The Sun.
London, England, 1840-11-21 00:00:00

A STRANGER. IN LONDON.

There is nothing the inaagination7can picture more
forlorn than the poor stranger who for the first time
treads the streets of the crowded city. Hope whispers
to him that what has once been accomplished may
again be renewed in his person, and already he rides in
a coach and four with gilded trappings, and has a host
of powdered lacqueys to attend upon his person. But
how many have entered the great city, full of high
hopes for the future, and sanguine in their dreams of
glory ? How few of these were heard of more,
or escaped being swallowed up in the crowds whose
portion is misery ? Everywhere they moved they found
a barrier to oppose them. Here, pride poured down
upon them, and spurned their modest talents,—there,
pleasure wooed them with her thousand lures, and
left them at last victims to despair. Deceit, fraud,
cunning, drew their coils around them, till, stunned
and perplexed, they sunk unresistingly into the snares
and vanished from the crowd of strugglers. Now and
then, alone, one emerged from the mass—pale, care-
worn, and unquiet. He has attained his object—he
has wealth, and he may sit down to taste of those
luxuries which haunted his young day-dreams. Alas!
he has no longer the taste for enjoyment—he hasgrown
cold and selfish—his old friendships have long ceased to
exist—he could not keep them in the world ; and,
though there are many round him, he knows they
envy his wealth and care little for the owner.
Riches have brought their penalty—he is sus-
picious, and his nights are spent in watching. He has
no joys, no pleasures, but he has a splendid funeral
when he dies, and a tombstocc that records that Peter
Jones raised himself by his ow❑ industry to be an alder-
man of this ward, and died at the age of seventy-two
full of infirmities, and (so says the stone) charity of the
world. Something is added by way of example to others,
but not a syllable of the feelings of the soui-,..tricken sin-
ner who, ere he died, reluctantly confessed that his toil
had been all labour ill-spent, and that he would willingly
have given up all his wealth to be the poor, happy,
honest lad who entered London with three penny-pieces
in his pocket, but a store of content at his heart worth
all the honours that ever devolved on care-bent should-
ers.—Brighton Herald.

-----
LARGEST VOLCANO IN THE WORLD.--FrOITI
communications just made to the Geographical Society, it
appears that Kiruca, a burning mountain in Owyhee, one
of the Sandwich Islands, has a crater of more than nine
miles ir circumference, and lately threw forth a lake of
liquid lays one mile long by half a mile broad, emitting
n
intense heat and glowing with extreme brilliancy.
THE FUGITIVE DIABLESSE.—We gave an
account of the elopement of two members of the Academic
Royale, who were arrested at Boulogne by the telegraphic
despatch, whose wings are swifter, unfortunately, than
those of love. The dill/Ae and diablecse in question _for
they
had doped after the ballet of Diable A_lnoureux_
vv ere sent back to Paris ; but, upon an inquiry into the
affair, the mother of the diablesse wto the! entrea-
ties of the amorous diable, and consentedga:lY to their union.
Miss Augusta Maywood, the
Arnberizan danseuse, is the
fair fugitive; and M. Charles Mai
his hour at her Majesty's Theatre,lle, who has pirouetted
is the impassioned
diable. They arc now in the
will,toeit,ertah,e eonclusionof their
desired, and . " United States," as they
at the French engagement
take a Transatlantic trip. Miss
Augusta Maywood isthe
sister of the young lady of that
name who appeared•some time since at the Hay mari:ot, in
Fazio, and the daughterket,
of Mr. Maywood, the proprietor
of an American theatre,Maesyeopliant. Theelwo'ho lately ietirif,i)trsin
red
romanticsr p x
antic result,
has been the latest event at ethnic' Frenchri Opera, and has
' oil .psed the Bergeron traces.