The Sun.
London, England, 1847-07-02 00:00:00

L() N DON, int 'DANT Vii ,
tEdtd-
-4:-. Pal PAII
IFA,VI
)4. 4 r0,0•,..f
• 4.*-1 tAti

II EA- and PERRINS' WORCESTERSHIRE
SAUCE is universally allowed to be the most Piquant and
the Richest in Flavour of any Sauce in use, and for Fish, Gravies
for Roast Meat, Steaks, Game, &c., or a zest for Curries, Soup, Cold
Meat, it is entirely unrivalled.
The unparelleled success of this Sauce having induced imitations,
purchasers are particularly requested to see that the name of LEA
and PERRINS are upon the Label and the Metallic Capsules, as also
to read the •Testimonials (which are enclosed with every bottle)
from the resid.•nce of Royalty, the principal Club Houses and Ho-
tels in London, EjnburBh, &e., and from private FamilLti in
the country.
Sold by the proprietors, Lea and Perrins, 6, Vere-street, Oxford-
street, London, and 68, Broad-street, Worcester; Messrs. id: rclay
and Sons, Messrs. Crosse and Blackwell, and other Oilmen, London,
and generally by all dealers in sauces.

THE MAGAZINES-
BLACKWOOD.
After a deservedly favourable review of the " His-
tory of the Conquest of Peru," by the most eminent
of American historians, William H. Prescott, Black-
wood rejoices his readers with a sprightly description
of " Crossing the Desert," suggested by the recent
peregrinations or wanderings of " a young English
gentleman of family and fortune named Sydney."
These two contributions are followed by a glimpse—
a brief, but earnest glimpse—at the career and cha-
racter of Jean Paul Frederick Richter. Like the
writer of this biographic notice, we are disposed to
congratulate the public upon the late appearance of
the memoir of this extraordinary man, this man of
whom it is justly remarked—" A perfect Titan as an
author, in the common relations of social and domes-
tic life he is a god." As but few are acquainted in
this our England with the estimation, and admiration,
and even veneration which is due to Richter, we can-
not do better than give a few of the prefatory remarks
contained in the Edinburgh Magazine. After ob-
serving that in reading the work already alluded to
" we are plunging at once with bold, fearless swoop
into the very centre of the Fatherland, into the midst
of the untrodden fir forests of the Fichtelgebirge,
where many great hearts billow out sublime thoughts
—hearts that never saw that which is most kindred
to them in nature—the sea," the contributor con-
tinues thus—
" A G; Heaven ! ho liter-
ally strikes )ts and sunbeams
(almost - Shelley), and cir-
cunanavl dance of nebulous
Brocken loubt whether you
are not tan for kindliness

and simi
heart al,
thrown

-a man having his
arms ready to be
greeting every man
.

with ab. tg, , devil, ana—like
Robert Burns—scarcely him heartily : a German for
devoutness of heart, and purity of unadulterated evan-
gelic feeling, without the least notion, at the same time,
of what •in Scotland we call orthodoxy, much less of
what in England they call Church ; a rare Christian ;
a man whom you cannot read and relish thoroughly
unless you are a Christian yourself, any more than you
can the gospel of John. For Richter also is a preacher
in his own way—a smiling, sporting, nay a jesting
preacher at times, but with a deep background of earnest-
ness : his jests being the jests not of rude men, but of
innocent children ; his earnestness the earnestness not
of a sour presbyterian theologian, but of a strong-sighted
seraph that looks the sun in the face, and becomes in-
tensely bright. A German further is Richter, and better
than a German, in the profoundness of his philosophy
and the subtlety of his speculation : a speculation pro-
found, but not dark; a subtlety nice without being fini-
cal, and delicate without being meagre. A German
further, and specially, is this man, in his vast and various
erudition, and in that quality without which learning
was never achieved, hard laboriousness and indefatigable
perseverance. It is incredible what books he read : not
merely literary books, but also and principally scientific
hooks ; natural history especially in all its branches,
from the star to the star-fish quarto upon quarto of
piously-gathered extracts were the we'l quarried mate-
rials out of which his most light and fantastic, as well as
his most solid and architectural fabrics were raised : a
merit of the highest order in our estimation : an offence
and a scandal to many; for nothing offends cenceited
and shallow readers so much as to find i.. un imaginative
ork allusions to grave scientific facts, of which their
butt, rfly-spirits are incapable. Then, over and above all
this, Richter possesses a virtue which only a few Ger-
mans possess : he is a man of infinite humour; humour,
too. of the best kind; sportive, sunny, and genial, rather
than cutting and sarcastic ; broad without being gross,
refined without being affected. Then his faults, also—
and their name is legion—haw German are they ! His
want of taste, his mingled homeliness and sublimity, his
unpruned luxuriance, his sentimental wantonness ! But
let these pass ; he who notices them seriously is not fit
to read Richter. It requires a certain delicate tact of
finger to pluck the rose on this rich bush without being
pricked
and lime ; John Bull especially, with his
atone
his statutable religion and his
direct
understanding, is very apt to be exas-
peratedi
sthis
by h
jerking electric points of such
a railroad by t h
e tho r n
church,
capricious
ss
as Richter. On the pediment
of
temple we would place in large letters
tgenuinestrange
Germant
the cap
the cry of the Cumsaan Sibyl in Virgil—
" Procul, 0 procul este, profani 1"
Let no mere mathematician, no mere Benthamite, no
mere mechanist, no mere botanist,' no mere man of
taste, and trim man of measored syllables, enterVaere.
Procul, 0 procul eate, profanf It is enchanted ground.
We have no quarrel with you; we quarrel with nobody,
only keep your own ground, in Goct'sjnarne, and. don't
quarrel with us and our German fried Paul."
Then is transcribed the touching narrative of Jean
Paul Richter's death. Listen I.

" Noon had by this time arrived. Richter, thinking
it was night, said:=:-.*lt was time to go to rest!' and wished
to retire. He was wheeled into his sleeping apartment,
and all was arranged as if for repose ; a small table near
his bed, with a glass of water, and his two watches, a
common one and a repeater. His wife now brought him
a wreath of flowers that a lady had sent him, for every
one wished to add some charm to his last days. As he
touched them carefully, for he could neither see nor
smell them, he seemed to rejoice in the images of the
flowers in his mind, for he said repeatedly to Caroline—
' My beautiful flowers, my lovely flowers!'
" Although his friends sat around the bed, as he
imagined it was night, they conversed no longer be
arranged his arms as if preparing for repose, which
was to be to him the repose of death, and soon sank
into a tranquil sleep.
" Deep silence pervaded the apartment. Caroline sat
at the head of the bed, with her eyes immovably fixed
on the face of her beloved husband. Otto had retired,
and the nephew sat with Plato's Phaedon in his hand,
open at the death of Socrates. At that moment a tall
and beautiful form entered the chamber ; and, at the
foot of the bed, with his hands raised to heaven, and
deeply moved, he repeated aloud the prayer of his
Mosaic faith. It was Emanuel, and next to Otto, the
most beloved of Richter's friends.
" About six o'clock the physician entered. Richter
yet appeared to sleep ; his features became every
moment holier, his brow more heavenly, but it was col.l
as marble to the touch ; and as the tears of his wife fell
upon it he remained immovable. At length his respira-
tion became less regular, but his features always calmer,
more heavenly. A slight convulsion passed over the
face ; the physician cried That is death !' and all
was quiet. The spirit had departed!
" All sank, praying, upon their knees. This moment,
that raised them above the earth with the departing
spirit, admitted of no tears !
' Thus Richter went from earth, great and holy as
a poet, greater and holier as a man!"'
Alas ! for the deathbed even as beautiful as this, the
quenching of the life of the loved and loving I

DOMBEY AND SOIV o. X. By C. Dickens.

Lucretia Tox discloses her secret aspirations to the
hand of Dombey, to the sister of the said Dombey,
when visited by Mrs. Chick in Princess's-place. The
description of Miss Tox's sitting room and of the
tthis general
amusingaspect interview of irl i
n C eSse S.'place (by which sketch
prefaced), is one of those
odd pieces of minute drawing for which Boz is un-
rivalled. The breakfast of the fair Lucretia, saith
her faithful biographer, was composed of her cus-
tomary viands ; ~ to wit, one French roll rasped,
one egg new laid (or warranted to be), and
one little pot of tea, wherein was infused one little
silver scoop-full of that herb on behalf of Miss To;
and one little scoop-full on behalf of the tea-pot—a
eight of fancy in which good housekeepers delight."
Clothing her hands in a pair of antique gloves like
dead leaves, Lucretia proceeded to arrange her nick-
nacks as appeared to be her daily wont, among other
things attending to the comforts of her bird—"a very
—•
high-shouldered canary, stricken in years, and ~,,,,,A
r u mp.l 7,l,hrut.ciPiereing singer
."kneed"

a sew wilfrecolnies7thisrlinikeeesnesss-P, tiaheeeliwkeell-
ness unhappily
rather of a species than of an individual.
But Miss Tox hath a paramount duty above all
others in her domestic economy, namely, of snipping
here and there among her plants with a pair of scis-
sors " for some botanical reason that was very power-
she was slow in coming to the plants.
ful with Miss Tox." This particular morning, how-
ever,T he weather was warm, the wind southerly ; and
sigh of the summer time in Princess's-place,
wasturnedg
Miss Tox's thoughts upon the country. The
pot-boy
rbeo y attached to the Princess's Arms had come out
with a c
ane and trickled water, in a flowing pattern, all
over Pricss's-Place, and it gave the weedy ground a
a tiny blink of sun peeping in from
fresh scent into a growing scent, Miss Tox said.
street round the corner, and the smoky
sparrows bopped over it and back again, bright-
ening as they passed ; or bathed in it like a
stream, and became glorified sparrows, unconnected with
chimneys. Legends in praise of Ginger Beer, with pic-
torial representations of thirsty customers submerged in
tThheegrereat was
the effervescence, or stunned by the flying corks, were
conspicuous in the window of the Princess's Arms. They
were making late hay, aompwhere put of town i and though the fragrance had a long way to comet and many counter fragrances to coittend with among the dwellings
of oin poor (may God reward the worthy gentlemen
who stickle lOr the piagup as part and pareei, of the
wisdom of our ancestors, and 46 their little best to
miserable), yet it was wafted
Princess's-place, whispering of Nature and
her wholesome aiT, as such things will, even unto priso-
ners and captives, and those who are desolate and op-
fteineptlythinotsoe dwellings
spite of aldermen and knights to boot i
and how they nod I—the rolling
Lhougut 0/ hey good papa
" 4,iss ,2,_)" 43C CloWn upon the window seat, and
waptroevirsishdeod::eainsneag: eesrtyinuo
id
Customs Department of the patio servicaMF ; anci of her
childhood, passei at a seaport, among a considerable
clveeased—. Toy, of the
quantity of cold tar, and some rusticity. She fell into a
softened remembrance of meadows, in old time, gleam-
ing with buttercups, like ao many inverted firmaments of

t.ll LLS~
German in imagination—Oh, 11
ikes you blind with skyrocket
as madly at timmas our own
'igates your bra:* with a dt
n phantoms, till you seriously d,
a phantom yourself ; a Germ
)plicity and true4teartedness—:
lways in his bc-nt and his at
roLnd everyoar6fy's neck ; gre
blessing, and cursing only the