The Sun.
London, England, 1847-09-03 00:00:00

TtIE SUN,

GRA), LITERATURE.
-'T LEY MANOR. 3 Vols. By Lady Geer-
Because L giana Fullerton.
very bosun tidy Georgiana Fullerton has written a
ea_
_ful domestic tale, we are not, on that ac-
lii",.!_;ondisposed to make supercilious or depreciatory
!s to those novelists who have failed in their
delineationstbe_n of character, much less to derogate from
eott:_qaestionable genius of some of her literary
teitZsPnrariete The appearance of a romancist who
vsnstrurat natural capacity in the composition and
bemuse'Tß of a fiction by no means disposes us to
to te__cnurlish with the unsuccessful, or unjust
their e who have already acquired celebrity by
lehr,,narratives. The former have their own
ee„'"est in their failure ; the latter their own re-
eeect; in their popularity. The former are below
kieer nation; the latter are above praise. The
let !annot•be saved from oblivion ; the latter beea-l-
eery deprived of fame. We are conscious that
V I,,ireration has its defamers, be it a generation
kivelist °rsi or statesmen, or historians, or poets, or
iti 1(148' Dr• Smollett was so peculiarly disposed
tittrie n the credit of everything and everybody that
tv,„e under
tra.oelleetepropriately)
his inspection, that he was christened
Sme 1 'fungus. Each age has it
Seetceaeh country is cursed with its Smell-
Notild , '1"-e have ours. The political Smollett
Ellison"„rfa. w an invidious inference from the corn-
'elsore:' ~,anY class or profession with its prede-
Nee„, 11, e would protest to the Pitts and
'Ns eltnat they must " hide their diminished
Polk uefere the superior memories of the Wal-
tetepeaad the Bolingbrokes; he would in the same
l'itta7,hrrernind the Greys and the Cannings of the
4113 or the Chathams ; the Peels and the Rus-
Nite it the Greys and the Cannings ; and regard.
411, h.2t'sr the eloquence of a Sheil and an O'Con-
,tiee.-4,„,ase Grattan and Curran had gene before
ktt el, here we to take the estimates of the Smol-
iittelgtellee-ts°' critics as conclusive, we should view the
, et '" Progress of mankind as one of perpetual
1013 ea, nth decadence. We should put the
:18 Slibrinlll"a Shakspere because lEschylus
tenquel' uPen Turenne because Hannibal was
Nous roe, ~,...__
Ilk''n Watt because Archimedes was in-
ketifruopwoinedLgeeeerrier because Kepler was profound
of astronomy. According to this
list
abauy haferior to
kecei:bi of
Systematic depreciation the Present is
the Past--a notion of the grog-
tesli PtileerditY, and one, to our thinking, most con-
;Nei: Y' and
It was thus that, about the
, CIL Wit this this half•century, the public ear was
0:4 Doe,4tnentations over the degeneracy of Eng-
'Pe be "Ye-at the very time when Byron, and
Ng ii, and
Moore, and Shelley, and Cole-
14J1' V Crabbe and' Rogers were flourish-
the' beysees:: cried out, "0, for the days
te,Klish and Pope, and Goldsmith," when
e feu .e,rs were issuing such works as Cain, as
. "t'e," %mei,' as " Gertrude of Wyoming," as " Gene-
-1 4,iof 11'4 " Alastor." It was protested that the
011itgirl Rabelais was extinct, except in the pages of
h,a a 44 and Pantagruel," at the very time that
s wee,
1%74 of,,Z was startling the hearts and the imagi-
044`ne Million. Some exclaimed that. the true
i
Cop N °lily to be found buried in the Feliquary.o
I, !tit ,';ree3', when the whole land was ringing with
lioiltlet!'''
13 is Passion of the "Irish Melodies." And
saw-a-days. The jealous sarcasms of
111%.: are still audible. The literary Smell-
-441v is
ar, tio as rampant and as inexorable
leetin '—alas! that it should be so—that love of
oei. to 1.,$ from the credit of. contemporary intellect
itr:netie 7 'ecnining contagious. According to the
4Mead remarks which are made day after day,
.ely eel nauseam, there is nothing great, or good, or
e one ~
theTo eunos. us. There are no historians worthy
I,ftrii ree--vet look at Hallam, and Lingard, and
FYI, n Tliere is no poetic genius—yet there are
&I. -ss Beranger, and Tennyson, and Macau-
-4 100
There is no real philosophy—yet there are
1,,,, lede74'4, Lardner, and Faraday ! There is
fie, /2 eloquence—vet there are Ventura
Oket7Naire, and (only the other week)
h;,' There are no political reformers,
cg Vent there are Peel, and Cobden, aye,
'l,,tl4tejeetti! Such is the blindness, or, rather, the
Osi-tirtn(luced by that genius of discontent, which
l*L 4 4Ln:tanner peculiar to Tobias Smollett.
.And
t(itecee,,_ ntent that breaks out with the more viru-
kt Illky .41..nse very occasions which might be expected
de,' klieil" acrimony. Is Sir Harry Smith gallant
1 1,• :V*
1 116,- tie pitn 7 - • his gallantry affords a key-note for a
11title''ge partial disappearance of heroism. Does
tutlitt4l.Pait aseeneasonly Stanfield can paint it
ittl."3 4 sigh for the bygone glories of Lorraine
reta....,naletto. Is Hogan more felicitous than usual
tkile;lll7,2,ing his conceptions in marble —an allu-
itlieet.--'1! to the masterpieces of Roubilliac and
td ale Does Lady Georgiana Fullerton write a
Hee teat as a composition, thrilling as a drama,
'le theearal as every-day life—there is a lamen. or
ii . When Walter Scott is no longer penning. aq
IL, suer and a covert sneer at the genius
''it
men as Charles Dickens and as
'Zit of depreciation!
Away with this miserable
vit.ve ec. "ePreciation! The disciples of Dr. Smollett
till4ell titll3loPathy with us. The splenetic sentiments by
oh 1 6hohelY are actuated are more loathsome to us than
d:the bodies
the loups garoux—for the one feeds only
tee'ttoe',lies.ef the dead, while the other strives to
"I,..ete'e',,:ue fair fame of the living 1 We love and
Vitis -,feeethe memory of those who have appreciated
0 eee'e'rmg the existence of its possessors on earth
.4.1147°,:td with these feelings Maceenas for having
eettie e iegil audHorace ; Sir H. Woottonf
.orb a.vin dg
ele,, howtile Powers of Milton ; Allen for his filen -
me' ads Addison and Sir Richard Steele ; Sprat
Zit, affection for Thomson ; yes, and we could
'efla to Wii,,th, Mr. Macaulay, love and reverence Boa-
-1 ei‘tl'etet„„,--'ving attended Dr. Johnson like his shadow,
kir -4 sal,- him with the sycophancy that only the
Iv -ent toad-eater could evince. So rejoiced
tir e that those
Ittt men caught a glimpse of
11,,: b feet
through the admiration and.
7.1 --ee-t of their contemporaries. Hence it is
‘oe'„lliii, can full estimate the excellence of
ih,"Jnt 4 "Grantley Manor " without diminishing
Cieft.--tntir good opinion of the writings of those
Cntlii:""ed 'nen, with whom, as autbors—notwith-
kly d? all her unquestionable abilities and genius--
.15ra„PeeeePgialea Fullerton cannot for one instant be
aletiej„.-• It is impossible to regard with greater
all that
than we do the fruitful and almost Arabic
- 4 -cl° of Sir Walter Scott—and yet with
th° Itoreerthusiasm we are satisfied that he could
k Night
:ii L.'s, ye written such works as " Zanoni,:' or
-gilt -' tlaYs of Pompeii," or " Rienzi,' or
t°4l4 - and Morning," than Sir Bulwer Lytton
11 • bee
ettde f e Written " Guy Mannering," or " The
tees;lll. teee°- Lammermoor " or " Waverley," or the
re; cll4or -"If" Honouring with 'equal sincerity the
1 le t') ha $e Honouring
Fielding, we know that he could no
3' dove written " Oliver Twist," or " Dorn-
Cha c 1
ee „nee Dickens
or " Martin Chuzzlewit," than
e`pp A -yieltens could have written " Jo-
A„,ieli,•-trews," or " Jonathan Wild," or
-.14 if ''' or the " Journey to_ the Other World."
tee ige Scott b
.4 of as opened to us the pageants of the
titttoli hElizabeth in his " Kenilworth," Bulwer
Up the s depicted the voluptuous court of Edward
eililieet Tortanipity of the. great Warwick, and the
totLe lieee„"tnt our Thirdßichard,.in his " Last
I)."sterit "s• Or if Fielding has given to us and
b,litens Vile life of the bastard " Tom Jones,"
eji°l: pa as done the same by the posthu-
sueteutere w?t,of the " Pickwick Club." Sympathising
ra'-"ltt4l,_ 01Z,,tny one rather than with the Tobias
Plintlier.tueon,
nyina the ithou,
in;i'daY or yesterday, we can and do. ad-
delv‘%Plitabie powers of Lady Georgians
, , ' sneering at the peculiarities or
aomilteMPoraelains of her more illustrious literary
Wee art tr-8* The expectations which were raised
Tete'l idletet „1:?1e since, on the publication of " Helen
Sen: alltho'retnive been realised in i• Grantley Manor."br
1411,11,etiou 33 develops the remarkable graces of her
me .and the purities and elegances of
Poe - Nlsiti in a story which elevates her to no
co Pond thi..°n in the literary reublic of her age.tat
thenftreeeat'e' she evidences her familiarity with
r ur4rt which imparts to a fictitious history.
eat of slaws of the real and the enthralling inte-
- ef eh7et-,abulous. The plot of " Grantley Manor"
`linoscra toglllar simplicity, and yet sufficiently inge.-
irktred r"" the attention of the reader. It is
'• , tete,
0f moreover, by the rich and various atmos-
. ngs oe %Passion through which the imaginary be
. re,etage: novel are revealed to us. Among other
Pdered 'e, as a work of art its narrative is
. ... TWO eine_euversified by its duplex character.
iii ::- are introduced of the most opposite dis-
%nate lof the ..
I I.4ilar _ most contrary education, of the most
Zeslie, e:PPearance—Margaret Leslie and Ginevra
%the r, --argaret is as " the rose," and Ginevra as
tie:zl,;: Margaret is like a "summer morning,"
n'eatoe, 'Kee ' a moonlight night ;" Margaret is a
victim of nt undisturbed happiness, Ginevra the
ro_ . continual
ie wiling, and dreadful sorrows; and, as a
roteet;L contrast between the two, Margaret is a
Leal tale
Ginevra is a Catholic. The circutn-
e'enry tale maybe described shortly as follows:-
44°111g leee' a Young man of ancient lineage and
?°llletiee or Possessions in one of the most beautiful
tsn, the A_ England, marries his cousin, Mary Thorn-
::ic_liTieiterooff
tabvisillage clergyman. By her he
idler the `` birth Margaret— ' ut, the mother dying 90011
dikught!l_ deept ' ild, Leslie leaves Eng-
desponden y, consigning his infant
44087_ 0 the care of her grand-parents. He
and over the Continent to dissipate his grief,
riage With long afterwards contracts another mar-
j,eo
. , beed e sister of an Italian artist, named
- tell% 22. th
Ferrari. Twelve months ,of unut-
birth ofvuirnent at Verona, are followed by the
Bthceciend wife' Leslie
second daughter and the death of his
leeslie is again a widower ; he is dis-
ICeaetZirsattothe decrees of his destiny, and win en
by aetivit d rovvii the remembrance of his iifflictiot..
- With I,i_ Y. enterprise, and travel.- The story opens
IdtaZ 5'
rtturn t° l'' English home, Grantley Manor,
evitegn _ _ ..13
Years abysm. Margaret is by

this time nineteen, beautiful, accomplished,
self-willed, petted, and warm-hearted. She
has been fostered during this period by a college
friend of her father, Walter Sydney, and she repays
the almost parental fondness of " Dear Old Walter"
with the most unbounded affection. Meanwhile she
has remained profoundly ignorant of the very exist-
ence of her sister—the second marriage of Leslie
being what is called " a sore subject" with the
relations of his English wife. Suddenly, however,
that sister is summoned to Grantley Manor
a few weeks after the return of Colonel Leslie
from his adventures as a soldier in India and the
Peninsula. Colonel Leslie is resolved at last to have
his two children with him at the old home in Eng.
land. The meeting between Margaret and Ginevra
is one of the most exquisite passages in the work ;
it is, however, merely the introduction to the rea:
interest of the story. Among the guests at Grantley
Manor is a young Irishman named Edmund Neville,
the heir to a large property in Ireland. Margaret
imagines him to be in love with herself,
whereas he is in reality married to her sister.
It is in the secresy of this marriage that the whole
passion of the tale concentrates. During his journeys
in Italy Neville had s Pri Ginevra in a flower- garden
at Verona, when looking from the window of the
atelier of her uncle, the painter Leonardo Ferrari,
Naturally a being of impulse, and accustomed to
follow his own inclinations without restraint,
Neville marries Ginevra Leslie, although he is
aware that his father is so furiously bigoted
against Popery that he has declared he would
disinherit his only son should he ever
unite himself to a Roman Catholic. A rumour
of some such mesalbance elicits an indignant and
threatening letter from the elder Neville. A com-
munication. from Colonel Leslie calls Ginevra from
her seclusion at Verona; she is compelled to leave
her husband and the grave of Leonardo Ferrari, and
hasten, under the care of a Mr. and Mrs. Wrrren, to
Grantley Manor. There Neville is, as we have already
said, among the guests. The fear of ruining his
fortunes render himself and Ginevra silent as to
their nuptials ' • and as the readiest means of clear-
ing away all difficulties, Neville is solicitous that
his wife should change her religion, and thereby nul-
lify the prejudices of his father-in-law. The struggle
which Ginevra has for the preservation of her faith is
the moral of " Grantley Manor"—and it is a grand
moral, nobly and passionately treated. Lady Geor-
giana Fullerton writes here, doubtless, with the more
enthusiasm from her recent conversion to the Church of
Roman Catholicism, and it is impossible, even for the
most orthodox Protestant amongst us, not to
respect the sincerity with which she speaks of
that religion. The result of these plots and
counter-plots is that the marriage is at last
divulged by Edmund Neville himself in the
remorse of having driven Ginevra to madness and
her death-bed, as he imagines. She is saved, how-
ever, from the jaws of the tomb; and the future,
which had darkened around them from a cruel will
made by the elder Neville before his decease, is
brightened by a codicil restoring Edmund to the for-
tune which he seemed to have altogether forfeited.
Margaret meanwhile has discovered that Walter Syd-
ney—old-fashioned, wise, noble-hearted Walter— has
cherished for her in secresy a deep and beautiful affec-
tion. Feelings of honour—a sense of the disproportion of
their ages—respect for the sacred charge which had
devolved upon him of preserving the mind and
principles of the child of his old friend, Colonel
Leslie, from contamination—had alike sealed his lips
and concealed from his own thoughts the real nature
of his attachment. The truth, however, beams on
11Iargaret, and an exquisite scene ensues : she literally
pops the question herself to dear Old Walter ! Their
betrothal is nevertheless interrupted by a temporary
estrangement, for, being the truest of true loves,
you may be sure it didn't run quite smooth.
Walter imagines that Margaret repents their engage-
ment, and feels disposed to bestow her hand upon a
younger and comelier man than himself, and heir to
a title—Frederick Vincent, son of Lord Donnington.
On a sudden, however, his suspicions are dissipated,
on hearing that Vincent has been positively refused
by Margaret. This exhilirating intelligence is con-
veyed to him through a letter—
" Walter could scarcely command his agitation as he
folded this letter, and looked towards Margaret, who
was standing at the window gazing in a listless manner
at the Rhine, and at the picturesque old buildings
beyond it. He went up to her, and asked her to walk
with him. His voice and manner were altogether dif-
ferent from usual, and she looked at him with surprise,
though she complied with his request. They went to
the old cathedral, and then on to the alley of' horse•chest-
nut trees beyond it, and seated themselves on a low
stone wall which overhangs the majestic river. Walter,
after a short silence, turned to her abruptly, and said—
" Margaret, will you be very angry with me if I ask
you one question?'
" The expression of his eyes, and the tone of his voice
at that instant, were so unlike what they had been for
the last few weeks, that a sudden emotion overcame her,
but she tried to conceal her agitation by assuming some-
thing of her old manner, and she answered gaily—
"'Since when are you so afraid of me, and of my
anger, Walter?'
" Margaret,' he said in an earnest manner, ' Margaret,
can it be true that you have refused Frederic Vincent?'
" The colour mounted rapidly into her cheeks, and she
had a struggle with herself' before she made any reply.
"' I have been wrong,' he hastily exclaimed, as he
perceived her uneasiness. I had no right to inquire.
Never mind answering me.'
" • I have refused Frederic Vincent,' she said slowly,
with her eyes fixed on the ground. His were raised to
her face, and there was a vague hope in both their hearts,
They looked at each other, but neither of them seemed
able to speak. At last, in an almost stern manner, he
said—
" Margaret, tell me the truth. Is it possible that you
do not care for Vincent?'
" Pride and emotion struggled in her heart, and she
rose to go, but Walter imperiously detained her, and she
exclaimed, at last, in a tone of wounded feeling—
"' And is it possible that you care to know?'
" Margaret, do not trifle with me now,' he returned,
with agitation. There is a limit beyond which self-
control cannot extend. I have struggled long, but I
cannot restrain myself for ever. If you choose to force
from me the avowal that I have suffered more than I had
imagined a man could have suffered without betraying it,
and, for the sake of your peace of mind, patiently sub-
mitted to the pain you have inflicted, hear it now, and in
mercy spare the feelings you cannot return. I had hoped,
I had resolved, never to speak to you thus ; but it may
be better for us both that you should know the truth.
Forgive me, Margaret, that I could not be silent to the
end; forgive me that I could not hear you express such
a doubt and answer you calmly. This is the last time I
shall ever allude to this subject, or give way to these
feelings. Soon I shall leave you.
" Walter!' she exclaimed, while a bright smile flashed
through her eyes, lighting up their blue depths, like a
ray of sunshine on flowers—' Walter!' she again re-
peated, as she turned her face towards him, and half
kneeling on the edge of the bench, bent upon him those
radiant orbs— I love you with all my heart • but why
did you leave my letter unanswered, and make all titis
mischief between us?'
" A letter! I never received one from you since I
left England ; and mine, Margaret! mine was a letter
that should have had an answer!'
"' I wrote one, I sent one. I told you t' come hack.
I told you that I loved you, but it was not half so true
then as it is now, for it amused me then to be admired
by others • I took pleasure in Frederic Vincent's admi-
ration, and almost fancied I liked him. Now 100k—
here is his letter. He speaks of love—l believe he feels
it. I care not for it. I would not exchange one word
of affection from you, Walter, for all the love and all the
love letters which the whole world could lay at my feet.
There l'—(she tore poor Vincent's letter into bits and
threw it into the stream)—' there, let the Rhine take it
and bear it to the ocean; and do you take my vain, light
heart into your keeping, and carry it along with you
through the river of Life to the sea of Eternity! lam
yours, Walter—yours for ever! No more secrets no
cow,
Old Old Walter! No more trials ; you must take me,
as I am, for better and for worse ; or while we wait till
I grow better, I may only grow worse, and yet I shall
never release you again. I have been too unhappy; and
now, oh, now, I am too happy !'
" What Walter felt, what Walter said, cannot well be
described; but never in after life will he visit again the
horse-chestnut alley near the cathedral of Basle, with-
out an intense emotion, which will be mournful or sweet
according as Heaven shall appoint his future lot. The
dark cloud which had hung over their prospects gassed
away in that hour from the hearts of Walter and Mar-
garet; and the joy which filled its place was as pure
and as serene as the sky above their heads."
Margaret and Walter Sydney are left at the conclu-
sion of the novel in complete happiness; and poor
Ginevra and Edmund Neville are likewise restored
to a calm and placid enjoyment of life. The spirit of
the work is eloquently enunciated by the authoress,
where she depicts the generous instruction afforded
by Sydney to the elderdaughter of Colonel Leslie.
" Margaret," she says, "listened with a kindling eye
and flushing cheek when he recited deeds of heroism
and lauded acts of self-conquest, the real true
courage of the soul ; when he spoke of the honour
due to the martyr who dies for his faith, to the
patriot who bares his breast to a thousand foes, to
the missionary who confesses Christ with the
scalping knife before his eyes, to the sister of
charity who braves the horror of pestilence in
the loathsome abodes of disease ; and lastly, not
least, to those lonely martyrs—to those unnoticed
confessors—to those meek souls who, in the humble
walks of life, in desolation unrepining, go through a
fiery trial, with no witness but that God—
Who to the wrestlings of the lonely heart
Imparts the virtue of his midnight agony."
Such a martyr and such a confessor is Ginevra, and
l devo-
tionone to her
Georgianse heart,"hder ri agi
Fullerton.
lbaielenrl idtaonsnoet.fe 'o;
t
the conception of her character, of her fervent
1,3
ehbnneeysv
osat•
frheehstthol
wien.nregdgvsoee
unro;ifu
wshi
in-
spired sLadyust sustained,
spired by that faith which" fascinates the young
imassini t, ye. " bz:,l
the autliure.ss, very beautiful.y, sin: is el st, ii ril tle
gorgeous temples of her own land the riches of earth,
the precious marbles and the sparkling gems, the
told of the mine and the pearl of the ocean) lavished

in profusion on the shrines of the Almighty ; and she
had learnt, at the same time, that the precious things
of man's heart and of man's brain, its pearls of great
price, its treasures of deep thought, its gems of count-
less value, should be laid upon the altar of God, not
to he destroyed like the holocausts of old, but
to be hallowed and exalted by the light of the
sanctuary." The; intense affection with which
Lady Georgiana Fullerton speaks of the Catholic
church proves that she does not merely subscribe to
its peculiar tenets nominally. Her mind is evidently
convinced and her heart is warmed. Take these sen-
tences wherein she describes Ginevra in a convent

near London :
" When she entered her little room, its simple arrange-
ment, and its various religious ornaments, reminded her
of her Italian home; and the sacred Litanies chanted by
the nuns—the same which, from her infancy upwards,
she had loved to join in, wherever a humble choir of
,vandering p,u-Ants, or of home-bound children, i ecited
them before some wayside image of the Blessed Virgin
—carried her back to the days of her childhood, and
awoke in her heart a fervent gratitude. that her faith
had made no shipwreck in the midst of the storms which
had beset it. Who can describe what the language of
the Church is to a Catholic—the typo of its universality,
the badge of its unity I That voile, reaching unto all
lands, and speaking to all hearts! uttering the same well-
known accents in the gorgeous temples of the south, and
the Gothic shrines of the north, as in the ru,tic chapel or
i❑ the mountain cave, where persecuted worshippers meet
in secret. At every altar, in every sanctuary, each sacred
rite and solemn hour claim the words of sacred import,
which fall on the ear of the stranger and the wanderer, at
once as a whisper from his home, and a melody of

heavers.".
Through all the passion of the narrative, in the
animation of the incidents, and the earnest enthusiasm
of the dialogues, several of the thoughts sparkle
almost with the vividness of wit, as where it is said
(vol. i. p. 255) that " Christabel," " that extraor-
dinary poem," "is like a bad dream !"
The delineation of character, again, is sometimes
most inimitable and observant. Mrs. Thornton is
depicted as " a good woman; nobody could deny
that; but to her goodness she joined a profound con-
viction of her own wisdom ; a steady, simple-minded
conceit, which carried her through every circum-
stance of life with an amount of self-gratulation, and
through every conversation with a degree of authori-
tative folly, that was inexpressibly amusing." Mr.
Warren was said to be, " on the whole, a kind and
good-natured man, but (he) had fallen into the
grievous error of supposing that to be fastidious
was a proof of refinement, and to be impertinent a
mark of distinction." Lady Donnington is men
tinned as one whose chief characteristic was
civility : " She was civil, as other people
are literary, or professional, or F cien t ific —it was
the business the enjoyment the sum total of
her existence." Mrs. Fraser is spoken of as a lady
who " had the rare power of talking nonsense with-
out appearing silly, and of insulting people without
transgressing in the least the rules of good-breeding."
We know one or two Mrs. Thorntons, four or five
Mr. Warrens, half a dozen Lady Donningtons, and a
whole score of Mrs. Frazers. Before we conclude
our rather long notice of " Grantley Manor," we
must transcribe one thought—it is a majestic
one—new, full of wisdom and worthy of
being learnt by heart. The authoress is speaking
of the interval which elapses " between the thought
in the mina and the words on the lips."
" That interval! How it varies with different people!
—How much turns upon it! What a ruhicon it is—that
second, during which the impetuous impulse of the heart,
or the rapid conception of the brain, moulds itself into
words, and assumes a living shape!—During which,
some can deliberately close ' the barriers of their teeth,'
as the Eastern proverb has it, and force back the rising
flood—some, into the polluted dens they call their hearts
—some, into the secret shrines where self is sacrificed
and God adored!
" What• a strange power there is in silence. How
many resolutions are formed ; how many sublime con-
quests effected during that pause, when the lips are
closed, and the soul secretly feels the eye of her 11Liker
upon her. When some of those cutting, sharp, blight-
ing words have been spoken which send the hot indig-
nant blood to the face and head, if those to whom they
are addressed keep silence, look on wish awe, for a
mighty work is going on within them, and the Spirit of
Evil, or their Guardian Angel is very near to them in
that hour. During that pause they have made a step
towards heaven or towards hell, and an item has been
scored in the book which the day of judgment shall sue
opened. They are the strong ones of the earth, the
mighty for good or for evil, those who know how to keep
silence when it is a pain and a grief to them; those who
give time to their own soul, to wax strong against temp-
tation; or to the powers of wrath, to stamp upon her the
msrk of their withering passage."
Lady Goorgiana Fullerton has opened a mine rich
in gold and diamonds, but, as Dr. Johnson says in his
preface to " Shakspere," it is one which may be like
the lordliest one ever opened to the world, " clouded
by incrustations, debased with impurities, and min-
gled with a mass of meaner minerals." Let her dis-
card the dross, and make for herself a diadem.

FLANDERS MAIL. -
BRUSSELS, AUG. 28.—1 t has been affirmed for the last
few days that the assurances that have been given that
there will be no opposition to the election of Messrs.
Rogier and Veydt is a ruse, for the purpose of deadening
the zeal of the electors, and their opponents hoping to
profit by the remissness of these gentlemen, intend, by
means of stratagem, to bring in two candidates, whose
names are not yet known. The friends of these two
members, however, are fully persuaded that neither M.
Rogier nor M. Veydt have anything to fear.
The changes which the Ministers are making continue

to cause dissatisfaction.
L' impartial du Bruges, which is friendly to the Minis
ters, and cannot, therefore, be suspected, says as follows
" Till now the Ministry appears to be exclusively occu
pied by purely political questions, and by depriving
those functionaries who are hostile to liberal opinions.
L'lndependance tells us that these purifications are
necessary. We wish both for the public interest and
for the sake of the Ministry that these deprivations
which have been judged necessary, might have taken
place earlier. We hope that as soon as this measure is
taken the Ministry will occupy itself immediately with
the question of Flanders. Winter is coming on, and
some solution ought to be arrived at. The liberal jour-
nals have for a long time maintained that there are re-
medies, and have justly accused the Ministry of De
Theux with not doing anything.
RUSSIA POLAND.—FROM THE RUSSIAN FRONTIER,
Ana. 12.—1 f we consider the numerous secessions which
within the last year has taken place from the Roman
Catholic and from the Evangelical Church in Poland
and the East Sea provinces to the Russio Greek com-
munity, we might be tempted to infer that the latter had
considerably increased in numbers. This, however, is
not the case, for what she has gained on one side she
has lost on the other. The law of Nemesis has reached
the Greek Church, since she does not make her prose-
lytes through the moral means of conviction and in-
struction. An immense number of sects have now arisen
in her bosom, which greatly diminishes her numbers, the
pertinacity ;of these sects may be inferred from
the fact that every secession from the Greek
Church in Russia is punished by the severest cor-
poreal chastisement and loss of liberty, and that these
punishments are inflicted with as much vigour now in
the nineteenth century as they were in the Romish
church in the 17th century. The Greek sectarians have
therefore been obliged to fly iv m the the old Russian
Government, and to go to those parts of the country
g, he,
where Christians, Mahomedens, and Heathens live to-
viz., Caucasia. This Greek church, how-
-1 ever, cannot afford to lose them, and has issued an
invitation to the apostates to return to her bosom ; in
doing which she has again had recourse to material
measures, the promises to the sectarians are that on their
return they shall enjoy, not only perfect amnesty, but
a remission of all dues for three years. It is, however,
very doubtful whether they will be induced to return to
their relations and former places of residence, as it is
well known that these sects are exceedingly indepen-
dent, and pertinaciously retain their opinions.
BERLIN, AUG. 2a.—lt is now confirmed that our
Minister of War, M. Von Boyer, will retire from his
post, though not into a state of inactivity. He is to be
the chief of the invalids, a charge which has not hitherto
existed. General Von Nohr, who is now commanding
in Breslau, is to be Minister of War in his room. The
post of chiet of Military Instruction, vacant by the death
of General Ruble Von Lilieorsterm, has not yet been
filled up. The report which has so often been circu-
lated of the nomination of Von Bodelschiviaz to be
Chancellor of State is verified. His Majesty appointed
him to the office previous to his departure for Ishl.—
Flanders Mail, Aug. 29.
PRUSSIAN FUNDS.—BmiN, AUGUST 28.
Bills. Money.
St•Schnld Sch., 3% per Cent ••• • • 9314 92%
Pruss•English Bonds, 1830, 4 per Cent .•• • • •
Foreign Exchanges •.•••• • • • • • • ••••• • • • • •
Exchange on London, £1 Sterling, 3 Months 6 24% --

His Royal Highness Prince Waldemar of Prussia,
attended by Baron Lauer Munchhosen, Count Oriolla,
and Count Groeben, is to arrive at Mivart's Hotel to-
day from Wales. The illustrious Prince has, during the
last 10 days, been visiting the principal towns in the
north of England and the lake districts, and on Satur-
day reached Cheshire, on his route for a tour in Wales.
His Royal Highness departs for Berlin in the course of
next week.
His Excellency Major- General Sir Harry Smith,
the newly-appointed Governor of the Cape of Good
Hope, is expected to embark about the 16th inst., ac-
companied by Lady Smith, for the seat of his future
government. The Vernon is appointed to sail about the
12th inst.
TILE SYNAGOGUE IN GREAT ST. HELEN'S.—Yes-
terday afternoon the new synagogue in Great St.
Helen's, Bishopsgate, was re-opened for public worship,
after having undergone a complete repair. A very large
congregation attended, and the service was performed
with the usual ceremonies. The music, which was ex-
cellent, was composed by Mr. M. Moss, the master of the
choir. At the conclusion of the service the Rev. Dr.
Adler preached an arpropriate sermon. The offerings
subsequently proclaimed, and it appeared to be
werete
general
opinion that the repairs had beer.
`judiciously
c,ompletedt arid r, Cl,3kiit Oil til t:;,..3te and
of
We very much regret to bear that 11. B. Sheridan,
Esq., M.P., still continues very ill, at his residence,
Frampton House.