The Sun.
London, England, 1847-05-03 00:00:00

PRE SUN,

strange adventures. 1:a tne latter, an extraordinary
instance is given of the summary course adopted by
Lord St. Vincent :
"'The ringleaders of the threatened mutiny were ina-
niediatey seized and tried directly, four of them were
sentenced to be hanged, and the rest to be flogged rounci
the fleet, which sentences were carried into effect the
very next morning, although it was Suncliy, and in op-
position to the remonstrances of Sir Charles Thompson,
the sc‘ aid in command. At eight o'clock the four un-
fortunate me.: ivcre hanged by the crew of the St. George
themselves, not by a man from each of the boats as com-
monly the case ; the other men were at the same time
undergoing. their punishment alongside the different ships
of the fleet. The signal was made to go to prayers; the
enemy's gun-boats came out at the same time and ours
sttaeked them. Thus, at the same instant, there was
he extraordinary spectacle in the same waters of hang-
ing, flogging, fighting, and praying going ~n together.
The prompt and decided conduct of Lord St. Vincent on
this eca,iol no doubt saved the fleet.*
" The Frozen Ship" is a petical version of a singular
discovery made by a Captain Warrens, towards the
latter end of the past century, of a vessel blocked up
in the ice for many years, the crew of which were
found apparently eng,!gerl in their ordinary duties,
although many years dead. The article on "
cruity and Recruiting" details the experiencn of a
medical staff officer, and gives many curious in-
stances i f:he tricks resorted to by tho,e anxious either
to get into or escape the trammels of the service.
There is also the usual quantity of information con-
tained in the Editor's Correspondence.

DUBLIN UAITEBSITY.
" Measures for Ireland," the political and the last
article in this number, appears to he a continuation of
" The Famine in the Land," which appeared last
month. Although we differ toto ccelo from the writer
in the views he expresses, the conclusions at which he
arrives, and the remedies he suggests, it is impossible
to deny the talent arid ability he has exhibited. Ile
is the unflinching advocate of the landlords, and sup•
ports them in all their theories. He clearly sees,
and forcibly depicts, the grievances and ills under
which that unhappy land is suffering ; but he obsti-
nately shuts his eyes to the causes from whence
these evils have originally sprung, and by which they
have been fostered and nurtured, until they have at-
tained their present rank luxuriance. He traces with
a graphic pen the fearful combinations that exist, the
agrarian outrages that have multiplied to such an ex-
tent as practically to deprive the landowner of that
power which he possesses, or rather is supposed to
possess, over his property ; but he doe-, not state that
the powers, which are now only nominal, once existed
in stern reality, and were exercised with no sparing
hands, and that it was probably to their abuse, and
the fact that there was no legal provision for the
poor man in the land of his birth, that, although
strong and industrious, and able and willing to work,
he might be left to perish in the midst of abundance,
that he could not claim by law a single meal to save
him from starvation—that the entire law of landlord
and tenant was a code framed by landlords for their
own purposes—that everything was thereby yielded
to the privileged class, whilst the humble peasant
was helpless and unprotected, and could only
shelter himself under the sanguinary lass's of
the secret tribunals—that the disturbers owed their
authority—and were enabled energetically and vigor-
ously to carry their fell behests into execution to
control the manner in which the rights of property
should be exercised, and to punish severely any
breach of their own regulations. Had the people
been sufficiently guarded in their rights, there would
have been no organised resistance to the rights of the
wealthier classes were they assured of a certain main-
tenance by any means other than those connected
with the possession of land, they would never have
so vigorously opposed the landlord's privilege of get-
ting rid of an unruly tenant and supplying his place
with another and more obedient—dependent—we
should not have seen such a state of things as that
described in the following passage :
" Emigrants are leaving the country in hundreds;
their produce disposed of, and their rents unpaid. The
savings' banks are filled to overflowing, with ineney
realist d by the sale of grain, which the tenant farmer
has appropriated to his own use, being either afraid or
unwilling to allocate at.y portion of it to the paym-ot
of his rent. The landlord is told to take, if he dare, any
legal steps to enforce his rights. His law process i,
answered by a death's head and cross bones; and he is
reminded, by a rude drawing of a coffin, of the narrow
space which his mangled remains may soon occupy,
should he persist in taking any vexatious step for com-
pelling either the surrender of the land, or the payment
of rent. Let English gentlemen make the case their
own, and then say what is to be thought of such a state
of things? Should a similar calamity visit England,
and a similar system of agrarian terrorism reduce them
to the condition of the Irish landlords, what would they
think of the demand upon them to sustain, out of their
own vanished resources, the famishing people. and that,
at the same time, no effectual measures were taken to
protect them against the plundering assassins by whom,
if they were not robbed, they would be murdered."
To the inquiry contained in the latter part of the
above extract, we would simply say, that in this
country such a result would be impossible. The
n
ri
tf eeeo peasanttareeti cel
tothei
hforher
life—thatrssao,
en,faloodttnfhhsgeeitdphl
e known
that
heet a
het
want h
cannote i
of the
t h eb entitledem ce arset
ot ou t
t neces-
sariestheo
lawe
oa fn dh
sw
privilegesh ich
property, guaranties
adt
connectedht oe
therewith, also secures to his humbler brother at least
a maintenance, and, consequently, no general conspi-
racy will be entered into, or even tacitly sanctioned,
against its operation. The power of the midnight
legislators should by every means be crushed, the
majesty of the law vindicated, and its efficiency esta-
blished, but the causes that led to the disturbances
should be ascertained and removed. There is again
an attack on the present Premier for not following in
the footsteps of his predecessor, and purchasing with
the Government funds a large quantity of the
grain of other lands. The means adopted by Sir
Robert Peel were certainly useful at the time,
and had the effect of keeping up a due supply
in the market, and acting as a check on exces-
sive prices during the spring and summer of 1846 ;
but it may well be doubted whether they had not
their effect in enhancing the difficulties to be encoun-
tered in 1847 ; whether they did not diminish the
supplies and increase the prices, and whether we had
not to pay a heavy interest for the temporary benefits
thereby obtained ; whether, if the principles of free
trade had then been rigidly adhered to, we would
not have had a sufficient importation in the earlier
part of the subsequent year, and found that, as is
usual in commercial affairs, the demand would have
regulated the supply ? Circumstances, too, differed
materially at these periods. The purchases made by
Sir R. Peel were in addition to the ordinary and
accustomed dealings of private speculators; but had
Lord John Russell pursued a similar course it would
have been in substitution therefor. The merchants
were terrified. They refused to enter into a compe-
tition with so powerful an opponent ; and had not
Lord John so promptly and wisely given the re-
quired pledge, the condition of the country would
have been fearful indeed, and not only Ireland, butthis
country would ere this have suffered from the effects of
scarcity. There would indeed have been " a famine
in the land." The sagacity of the Minister saw the
impending danger. He resolutely adopted the only
course by which it could have been averted; and,
thanks to his resolution and firmness, there is now an
ample supply, and every prospect of a general defi-
ciency, even in Ireland, has been removed.
There is a pleasing chapter of Continental gossip
from the pen of Harry Lorrequer. His sketch of a
German grand ducal city is written in his own pecu-
liar •style. He most happily pourtrays the dreary,
heart- wearying monotony of the scene. In the
" Bull Economical " he exhibits the different classes
of Continental travellers, he traces the three acts of
the drama from " Milor," with his travelling equi-
page, including every luxury that could be heard of, and
paying "en Prince" to the half-pay captain of Marines,
Niggling for a place with a John Kutcher, or bar-
gaining for a blue-legged chicken at the corner of a
street, from the easy, happy-minded, unsuspecting,
gullible John Bull of former times, to the shrewd
calculator of small reckonings—the man of little
economies—the seeker atter a place in the ratonde
or a lodging au cinquieme—in other words, " the Bull
economical," who rushed to the continent possessed
with two notions, first, that it was universally cheaper
than this country; secondly, that every foreigner
was an incarnate rogue, and that in combating his
tendencies to cheat was the only means of effecting
the economy in question. We must, however, let
Harry describe for himself the influx of visitors :
" Then came the third act of the drama, to which the
public were admitted as at half price, and the whole
populace of England flocked over in shoals; steam
boats could not land them fast enough; the shores of
Ostend, Dieppe, and Calais, were a Babel of bad English
and worse French. It would seem as if a plague was
raging at the other side of the Strait, and all were run-
ning for their lives; Lords of Parliament, levanters
from the Derby, city merchants run away, bank clerks,
diplomatists and defaulters, widows with marrying
dauAters; husbands escaping from actions for bigamy;
tourists, duellists, and economists, all pell-mell, rushing
madly on for that sanctuary which was either to screen
their iniquities or save their incomes. What a change
was here for the Continentals I It was no longer the
same people they had known, and cheated with so much
self-satisfaction;
acute
a alsot andi wide-awake
s facit
explainsiodnet thereawthake a
at it wass
w themselves."
oh a
would
newmldbe
se,
e s.,
well that
He nation, to the full as
per-
son who thinks of deserting Old Et
fully understand, viz., that the continent is really not
galtand every
should
h ou l
cheaper than this country, and that to accomplish the
r supposed economy, you must be foreign in your dress,
tastes, and habits, be contented to "breakfast on a
cup of coffee, dine on a potage, and sup on a salad ;"
this, we believe, is a truth that cannot be too earnestly
impressed. We have left ourselves but little space to
notice the other excelloit articles contained In the
~.tuber. Th History of the Sikhs" te read
with peculiar interest, now that-we have succeeded in
defeating the formidable attempt made by that extra-

ordinary ration to subvert the Anglo-Indian power.
The account of the Lion of Lahore, the sagacious and I
powerful Runjeet Singh, who gained suh extensive
dominions and never lost a single province he had
aa rEtE;li
and
, wßhoh 0 kwnaeswo u firm a
the r
real
end xtento consistentioufriendand
our power,
an
d
the impossibility. of any of the native Princes
succeeding in their efforts for our overthrow, will
attract much attention. There are some pleasingly
written stanzas to a " Snowdrop," and the two first
chapters of a new tale, " Neophytus the Monk, a tale
of Monastic Lite in Greece," that promises well. The
scene is laid in the sunny Grecian land during the
struggle for independence, while the oppressions of
the Turkish rule, exciting the indignation and stimu-
lating the Hellenic race to resistance, and arousing a
spirit of vengeance, as deep and deadly as that which
existed among'; the Spanish guerillas in the earlier
part of the present century. " Another Evening
with Poetry and our later Poets," is chiefly devoted
to the works of William Motherwell, to which it pays
a just tribute. It quotes some exquisite ballads,
written in the simple Scottish dialect. The expres •
sion of first love, fondly treasured in the heart,
beautifully given in " Jeane Morrison ;" and " My
Heid is like to rend Willie," exhUtits tie deep pathos
of the writer. There is t caeital likeness of Maclise
given in " The Portrait G:diery," accompanied with
a long memoir of the distinguished artist, whom it,
hails as the future Presdent or the Academy. The
Doctor of Southey forms the subject of another arti-
cle; and a contirmation of the Anthologia Hthrnica,
give:

!s some good specimens of native Irish songs in
by-gone centuri-s. "LF ayes from the L,fe of Prince
Tallevrand" commences a memoir of that extra-
ordinary person, who witnessed such extraordinary
changes and events in the course of his va,ri-d sal eer.
On the whole, we have a Number this month far
beyond the general averagi, and which contains
matter interesting to evorr description of readers.

DOMBE7 No. VIII.
By Charles Dickens.
Captain Cuttle has for a while superseded Major Bag-
stock in monopolising the interest of the narrative, or
rather in causing it to radiate from and revolve around
him individually. Captain Cuttle 'comes out in greet
style in the new chapters just published. Its is suffering
grievously from the household peculiarities of his land-
lady, when Florence Dombey, riecainpaniel by Miss
Nipper, pays him a visit a'. his lodgines. For—
" It happened by evil chance to be one of Mrs.. Mac Stinger's
great cleaning days. On these occa,ions, Mrs. Mac Stinger
was knocked up by the policeman at a quarter before three
o'clock in the morning, and rarely succumbed before twelve
o'clock next night. The chief object of this institution ap-
peared to be, that Mrs. Mac Stinger should more all the fur-
niture into the back garden at early dawn, walk about the
house in pattens all day, and move the furniture back again
after dark. These ceremonies greatly guttered those doves
the young Mac Stingers, who were not only unable at
such times to find any resting-place for the soles of their feet,
but generally came in for a good deal of pecking from the ma-
ternal bird during the progress of the solemnities."
The Captain is discovered sitting in his room very dis-
consolately, "on a very small desolate island, lyingabout
midway in an ocean of soap and water." On perceiving
his visitors, Captain Cuttle dauntlessly issues forth upon
the main, and having conveyed them to dry land, retires
himself beyond the confines of the island, and beams
upon them from the soap and water " like a new descrip-
tion of triton." The Captain's mortal fear of Mrs. Mac
Stinger is something beautiful in the ph) siologv of land-
ladies. But the Captain nearly eclipses himself, by
introducing us to another wonderful navigator, one Cap-
tain Bunsby, in command of the Cautious Clara, lying
hard by Ratcliffe. The said wonderful navigator makes
his appearance in the following manner:--
" Confng slowly up the bulk-head of the cabin, another
bulk-head—human, and very large—with one stationary eye
in the mahogany face, and one revolving one, on the principle
of some lighthouses. This head was decorated with shaggy
hair. like oakum, which bad no governing inclination to-
wards the north, east, west, or south, but inclined to all four
quarters of the compass, and to every point upon it. The
head was followed by a perfect desert of chin, and by a shirt-
collar and neckerchief, and by a dreadnought pilot coat, and
by a pair of dreadnought pilot trousers, whereof the waist-
band was so very broad and high, that it became a succeda-
neum for a waistcoat : being ornamented near the wearer's
breastbone with some massive wooden buttons, like back-
gammon men. As the lower portion of these pantaloons be-
came revealed, Bunsby stood confessed; his hands in their
pockets, which were of vast size ; and his gate directed, not
to Captain Cuttle, or the ladies, but the masthead."
This Bunsby proves after all an aSs—a greater ass than
Dogberry. He is summoned by his admirer, Captain
Cattle, to pronounce an opinion upon the probable fate
of the Son and Heir vessel, in which Walter had taken
his departure, and which has not yet been heard of since
his departure. When called upon for this opinion, in
the back parlour of old Solomon Gills, he proceeds in
this wise.—
" Bunsby, whose eye continued to be addressed to some-
where about the half-way house between London and Graves-
end, two or three times put out his rough right arm, as seek-
ing to wind it for inspiration, round the fair form of Miss
Nipper; but that youne- female having withdrawn herself, in
displeasure, to the opposite side of the table, the soft heart
of the Commander of the Cautious Clara met with no re-
sponse to its impulses. After sundry failures in this wise,
the Commander, addressing himself to nobody, thus spoke;
or rather the voice within him said of its own accord, and
quite independent of himself, as if he were possessed by a
gruff spirit :
" My name's Jack Bunsby!'
" ' He was christened John,' cried the delighted Captain
Cuttle; hear him!'
" And what I says,' pursued the voice, after some delibe-
tion, I stands to.'
" The Captain, with Florence on his arm, nodded at the
audit,ry, and seemed to say, ' Now he's coming out. This
is what I meant, when I brought him.'
" Whereby,' proceeded the voice, " why not? If so,
what odds? Can any man say otherwise. No. Awast then !'
" When it had pursued its strain of argument to this point,
the voice stopped, and rested. It then proceeded very
slowly, thu, :
" Do I believe that this here Son and Heir's gone down,
my lads? Martian, Do I say so? Which? If a skipper
stands out by'Sen' George's Channel, making for the Downs,
what's right ahead of him? The Goodwins. He is'ilt forced
to run upon the Goodwins, but he may.
og fo
Tyod l
hu duty. ukvtThe bearings of this
keep a bright look out for'ard,nn andar
observation lays in the application on it. That a' tno t
went out of the back parlour and into the
street, taking the Commander of the Cautious Clara with it,
and accompanying him on board again with all convenient
expedition, where he immediately turned in, and refreshed
his mind with a nap."
The first chapter contains an exqu:site scene, where
Florence heers a little girl commiserating her estrange-
, most trom her father; and the flowers which she has
just been gathering, drop scattering on the ground like
lust. From the opening chapter we select the following
passagt. s, remarkable for that minuteness of descrip-
tion, which is one of the many inimitable characteristics
voice
eyohuerle, Awast then,
of Mr. Dickens:—
" Florence lived alone in a great dreary house, and day
succeeded day, and still she lived alone; and the blank walls
looked down upon her with a vacant stare, as if they had a
Gorgon-like mind to stare her youth and beauty into stone.
"No magic dwelling-place in magic story, shut up in the
heart of a thick wood, was ever more solitary am' deserted
to the fancy, than was her father's mansion in its grim
reality, as it stood lowering on the street: always by night.
when lights were shining from neighbouring windows, a blot
upon its scanty brightness; always by day, a frown upon its
never-smiling face.
" There were not two dragon sentries keeping ward before
the gate of this abode, as in magic legend are usually found
on duty over the wronged innocence imprisoned; but be-
sides a glowering visage, with its thin lips parted wickedly,
that surveyed all corners from above the archway of the
door, there was a monstrous fantasy of rusty iron curling
and twisting like a petrifaction of an arbour over the
threshold, budding in spikes and corkscrew points, and
bearing, one on either side, two ominous extinguishers. that
seemed to say, Who enter here, leave light behind !"There
were no talismanic characters engraves on the portal, but
the house was now so neglected in appearance, that boys
chalked the railings and the pavement—particularly round
into
e se portraits
tthe corner where the side wall was—and drew ghosts on the
stable door; and being sometimes driven off by Mr. T
ont , made
owlim-
t horizontally
once
anictte a
si.
oonflwl
undermk ini n
histhe return,
hmaot
morning,
withNngo, ihissneeecvaeerarss
ebgdrrattiyoweid a
o
note in at those windows ; but all such company,
be,
g
within
0 the
the shadow of the roof. Tm he brass band that carne
down to a
poor little piping organ of Weak intellect. with an imbecile
party of automaton dancers, waltzing in and out at folding;
doors, fell off from it with one accord, and shunned it as
hopeless place.
" The spell upon it was more wasting than the ripen
that used to set enchanted houses sleeping once upon a
time, but left the waking freshness unimpaired. The
passive desolation of disuse was everywhere silently
manifested about it. Within doors, curtains. drooping
heavily, lost their old folds and shapes, and hung like
cumbrous palls. Hecatombs of furniture, still piled and
covered up, shrunk like imprisoned and forgotten men,
and changed insensibly. Mirrors were dim as with the
breath of years. Patterns of carpets faded and became
perplexed and faint, like the memory of those years'
trifling incidents. Boarth, starting at unwonted foot-
steps, creaked and shook. Keys rusted in the locks of
doors. Damp started on the walls, and as the stains
came out, the pictures seemed to go in and secrete them-
selves. Mildew and mould began to lurk in closets.
Fungus trees grew in corners of the cellars. Dust accu-
mulated, nobody knew whence nor how ; spiders, moths,
and grubs were heard of every day. An exploratory
black-beetle now and then were found immovable upon
the stairs, or in an upper room, as wondering how he
got there. Rats began to squeak and scuff, in the night
thee, through dark galleries they mined behind the
panelling.
"The dreary magnificence of the state rooms, seen
imperfectly by the doubtful light admitted through
closed shutters, would have answered well enough for an
enchanted abode. Such as the tarnished paws of ;gilded
hoes, stealthily put out from beneath their wrappers ;
the marble lineaments of busts on pedestals, fearfully
revealing themselves through veils ; the clocks that
never told the time, or, if wound up by any chance,
told it wrong, and struck unearthly numbers, whieh are
not upon the dial ; the accidental tinklings among the
the pendant lustres, more startling than alarm-bells ;
the softened sounds and laggard air that made their way
among these objects, and a phantom crowd of others,
shrouded and hooded, and made spectral of shape. But,
besides, there was the great staircase, where the lord of
the place so rarely set his foot, and by which his little
child had gone up to Heaven. There were other stair-
cases and passages where no one went for weeks to-
gether ; there were two cloaca rooms associated with
dead members of the family, and with whispered rec.il-
lections of them ; and to all the house but Florence,
there was a gentle figure moving through the solitude
and gloom, that gave to every lifeless thing a touch-of
present human interest and wonder.
"For Florence lived alorfe in the deserted house, and
day succeeded day, and still she lived alone, and the
cold walls looked down upon her with a vacant stare, 114
it hey had a Gorgon-like mind to stare her youth mei
beauty into stone.
"The grass began to grow upon the roof, and in the