The Sun.
London, England, 1847-05-31 00:00:00

MAY 31, 1847.

the juvenile band of the institution, who, during the
evening, played several national airs. Mr. Angus
Mackay, and Mr. Donald Mackay, the Queen's
piper, and the piper of the Highland Society, also con-
tributed to the hilarity of the evening.
The company did not separate till a late hour.
Mr. Harker was the toastmaster.

LITERATURE,
MAR iIIADUKE HERBERT ; or, THE FATAL
ERROR. A Novel. By the Countess of Blessing-
ton. 3 vols.
To say that "Marmaduke Herbert" is what is techni-
cally termed a well-written novel, that the style is easy
and elegant, the descriptions animated, and the story
interesting, appears to be hardly necessary, when we
say that itis written by Lady Blessington. Her readers
must be already acquainted with that vivacity of
manner and truthfulness of narration which impart a
great charm to her writings, and invest them with
such an air of vitality. In these attractive qualities,
" Marmaduke Herbert" is in no wise deficient ; its
chief feature, however, is a very powerful delineation!
of some peculiarities of temperament and unfortunate,
circumstances consequent thereupon. The chief in
cidents of the story are of a striking, and, indeed,;
startling character ; the plot is well conceived ands
well contrived, admirably calculated to effect what
we presume to have been the object of the writer,,
namely, the analyzation and exemplification of the;
peculiarities of a nature at once affectionate, proud,l
reserved, and morbidly sensitive—a nature which, by
causing its unfortunate possessor to dread the impu-i
tation almost as much as the commission of a fault,l
rendered him morally and mentally a coward and in-;'I
volved him in a series of " fatal errors," exposing him,ii
moreover, to a remorse andsqumir (Adorn 41'.
41,0*besseene faults; for bavingcanurdtted-whatTailey-
,
rand has described as being worse than faults—mis-
takes. The example and instruction of his parents had
tended to develope his more affectionate and better I
qualities, but their good effects were destroyed by I
the pernicious counsels of a guardian to whom he
was at an early age consigned, who taught him to avoid
all intimacy with his companions, and to look on all -
with suspicion and consoled him, when by such
conduct he foun'a himself an object of dislike, with
the assurance that all popular persons were either
dupes or dupers. This counsel so far increased the
natural defects of his character, that with real good
feelings he kept up an appearance of evil, Without
friends in his childhood, shrinking from sympathy,
although of a most ardent nature, the consequences
of his own unfortunate conduct, raised up a wall of
separation even between him and his wife; and, in
speaking of his affection for his child, he observes,
over this burning lava of love was a deep and har-
dened incrustation of reserve that concealed the fire."
such is the character of the hero of these volumes;
his feelings and his failings are most effectively por-
trayed, and his story must interest all who read it,
though some only may experience pleasure in the
perusal. Among these we certainly cannot count
mrselves, for while we admit the whole story to be
well written, interesting, and full of feeling, and
while we admire the talent and acknowledge the
merit which it displays, we must also admit that
its perusal has afforded us little pleasure.
En the close contemplation of such a history as Mar-
maduke Herbert's, a series of secret sorrows, heart.
turnings and apprehensions, in the picture of his
miserable domestic life, though both he and his wife
were tenderly attached to each other, above all in the
story of her sufferings, as detailed in a private
journal of her own—all of which, because described
with much truthfulness and feeling, are only in con-
sequence more heart-rending—we should feel a sort
of pleasure somewhat akin to that afforded by a close
inspection of the dying agonies of a battle-field.
"'here are some, nevertheless, with whose sensibility
we have no wish to find fault, who experience much
,lelight in the contemplation of fictitious sorrows, and
to these the story of " Marmaduke Herbert" will ne-
cessarily be most interesting. The journal of the un-
happy wife is perhaps the most beautiful and natural,
and also the most painful part of the whole book.
Written in a style of exceeding simplicity and ten-
derness, it presents a very accurate picture of the
emotions of a young and ardent heart. Without
attempting to give any description of the plot, it may
be as well to men' 'on the main incident, which gives
a colour to the whole story, the " fatal error" which
gives its name to the book. Marmaduke Herbert,
summoned to his mother's death-bed, arrives only in
time to attend her funeral, and obey her last wishes.
In these she commends to his care her constant com-
panions' and dearest friends, a widow lady and her
two daughters, one of whom it is her anxious hope
that he may choose for his wife. Marmaduke, not
having as yet seen any of these ladies, is wandering
on a steep and precipitous path, overhanging the
sea, when he perceives a young girl sleeping on a
rustic seat—struck by her great beauty, rightly
divining her to be the maiden intended for his wife,
he, yielding to the impulse of the moment, proceeds
to commence the acquaintance by pressing his lips to
her brow. The young lady aroused and alarmed,
hurries away, anxious to explain and apologise, he
pursues her—terrified and bewildered, she loses her
footing, falls over the precipice, and is killed. Nothing
can exceed the agony and horror of Marma
duke, unless, perhaps, it is the madness of his
subsequent conduct. Instead of leaving the
body where its appearance would at once sug-
gest a very probable accident, he is terrified,
lest his foolish conduct may be discovered, and con -
ceals, and afterwards inters it. The consciousness of
having occasioned so terrible a calamity, and more
especially the concealment of it, for, not to a single
individual does he confide his secret, preys upon his
mind and embitters his life. His subsequent mar-
Live of mutual happiness. His natural reserve
trhiaogueghwtihteh
rtehsueltsiostfermuotfuarelovuen, unhappy
ot gpirrolduacl--
is naturally much increased by the gloomy thoughts
ever present in his mind, or ever recalled by the most
trivial incident, and this reserve, as a natural conse-
quence, imposes a restraint upon his wife, destroys
all interchange of confidence or expression of sym-
pathy, which is rendered doubly painful to both by
their still enduring affection. All this is most power-
fully described. Innumerable incidents or accidents,
so unimportant in themselves, so momentous in their
consequences—those trifles which " make the sum of
human things"—are detailed with a fidelity and
naturalness which give an air of probability to the
whole. In speaking of the troubles of Marmaduke
we have omitted to mention one which caused him
no little embarrassment. During the ravings of a
brain fever, he snakes mention of much relating to
the most ten ible event of his li;'e ; the man hired to
nurse him, imagining him, in consequence, to have
been guilty of a murder, makes use of the information
he had obtained from his delirious wanderings to ex
complies, and having once done so, the fact of hi.
and
dt s
emnos
intei
vy
nfromman,
himdreading on his y
th
eretchoreveartnn.
edThe exposure,
weak
having purchased silence is taken as a proof that he
has something terrible to conceal. From what
we have said, those who take pleasure in such
things will see that here is a delightful combination
of perplexities, and anxieties, and troubles : evasions.
and plots, and counterplots ; a story boasting of r,
hero surrounded by as many difficulties, and oppressed
by as many griefs as ever fell to the lot of any hero ol
romance—a heroine possessed of the three qualities
most necessary for all heroines, being in the superla-
tive degree beautiful, affectionate, and unhappy. The
admirers of " Marmaduke Herbert " will, conse-
quently, we doubt not, be very numerous. The style
is at once graceful and vivacious, and many parts are
written in a very feeling and natural manner.

A WHIM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
A Novel. Three Vols.

With some inelegancies of style, and other minor
imperfections, this novel contains a story of con-
siderable interest. The beginning led us to expect
very little, but it is not fair to judge from a begin-
ning, unless the author be one of great experience,
and, even then, either from his not quite feeling hi;
way, cr from our not being as yet quite familiar to
him, there is a sort of formality generally apparent
which in inexperienced writers degenerates into
awkwardness, while in others it is only manifested by
a little elaboration of description, or some similar de
fect. The commencement of almost every work,
of almost every description, is only another verifica-
tion of Sir Walter Scott's very appropriate compari-
son, doubtless written from experience, of the hesita-
tion of an author at the beginning of his task being
changed into confidence as he proceeds :
" As shallop launched on river's tide,
That slow and fearful leaves the side,
But, when it feels the middle stream,
Drives downward swift as lightning's beam."
And so, apparently, the author of these volumes found
it, when he reached the midd'e strestream, and entered
into the interest of his story, his hesitations and diffi-
culties apparently much decreased, or at all events
they are less manifest to the r.eader.
.The style, too,
teemed to improve; perh.aps in the. interest of the
story the author forgot his mannerisms, and perhaps,
from the same cause, we forgot
to pay much attention
to them. The plot, we have said, is interesting, and is
moreover very effectively arranged. The " Whim,"
whereby hangs the whole tale, is certainly somewhat
improbable and unaccountable, but that its very name
would imply, the "Consequences" which form the chief
part of the story follow from it naturally enough.

PRICE SD.

Without entering into the details of the plot we will
briefly state to what these terms " Whim" and " Con-,
sequences" apply. Chandos, the hero of the tali .
finds himself on his father's death left almost de-
pendent on his elder brother, with whom he is on
unbrotherly terms; he resolves in consequence to
carve out his own fortune, and being desirous of
learning somewhat concerning the mode of living
of the poorer orders, or' as he himself expresses it,
having hitherto looked down on the valley from
the mountain, being desirous of feeling what it was
to look up to the mountain from the valley,
he begins his independent career as one of
the lower classes, and accepts a situation.as a garde-
ner—that is the " Whim." We pass over many of
the Consequences, as, for instance, his finding in the
daughter of his master, a young lady whom he has
met with in better circumstances, and who, of course,
recognises him, we will only allude to the principle
one, the main feature of the story, which is hi
arrest and trial for murder under the most suspi-
cious circumstances. 'We do not much approve of
the introduction of murders in that lighter species of
literature which is chiefly intended to amuse ; by
frequently meeting with such terrible themes, we
become almost habituated to them, and they fail
in creating that impression which they should.
" Vice is a monster of such hideous mien, &c."
But, in the present instance, there is little or nothing
of a disagreeable character ; the murder is only, as it
were, incidentally introduced ; the interest does not
dwell upon it so much as upon the close chain of cir-
cumstantial evidence that seems to hem the prisoner
in. The friend and counsel of the hero is evidently
intended to represent some real character—Sir
William-,Follett apparently. He appears here asyire-
aetha-.8 ouirm- nulon ox prowss4oned. sum,„and private
goia=nateraite Thii"-defieription of his unremitting
labours is perhaps not inaccurately portrayed ; work-
ing on incessantly, and then taking some refreshment
instead of repose ; trying, as he expresses it, every
day the cause of "Wine versus Weariness?' The
whole details of the trial are given fully, perhaps too
fully, but they are sufficiently interesting. We must
object, however, to the somewhat censorious remarks
respecting trials by judge and jury. One object, in-
deed, of this history of a trial is epparently to
show how in spite of the much approved system a
man may be condemned on evidence utterly false,
and also acquitted on evidence equally without
foundation. The inelegancies of style to which we
have alluded arise apparently from the author's anx-
iety to express himself in a forcible and natural man-
ner, hence he occasionally degenerates into vulgarity,
and occasionally from making too much effort to
appear natural falls into the opposite extreme. More
especially are these defects apparent in his compa-
risons or metaphors, which is peculiarly unfortunate,
because, in such cases especially, elegance is desirable,
and truthfulness is absolutely essential. But our author
has in some cases forgotton these essentials in his
manifest desire to appear natural and unrestrained.
For instance, can anything be more inelegant, and
what for a simile is far worse, more inappropriate
than his describing to us his hero pursuing hisjour-
ney in stormy weather, with a sleety wind blowing
his face, poking its icy fingers into his eyes."
Again, at the conclusion, he describes to us how
the happiness of his hero and heroine, though, of
course, exceedingly great, was nevertheless like all
human felicity, subject to temporary variations " as
a hefithy man may have a cold now and then?' We
must confess that these comparisons are not to our
liking, and we mention them here because they are,
in our opinion, calculated to reflect little credit on
the writer, and they may be in future so readily
avoided. Notwithstanding these blemishes, as we have
already said, the story contained in these volumes is
full of interest, and although there are many novels
better written, and evincing more of talent, there art
many which will be found less amusing, and less
agreeable on perusal, than this history of " A Whim
and its Consequences."

TRACE Y ; or, The Apparition. A tale of the lass

century. By Air's. Thomson. 3 vo/s.
We must confess that the second title of this work
did not lead us to enter on its perusal with any very
favourable anticipations ; not that we are so unro-
mantic as to object to all mention of the " millions of
.
spiritual creatures" that " walk the earth," but we
prefer meeting with them in some legend or ballad, or
traditionary tale ; a novel should, to our thinking,
treat rather of the world we live in than the world of
shadows. Consequently, as we have said, we did not
commence the story of " Tracey" with any very fa-
vourable expectations. It proved, however, to be far
better than we had anticipated. The whole work, in-
deed, gives abundant evidence of the talent of it-
writer ; it is in many respects greatly superior to
many recently published novels. The story, though
perhaps not of a very pleasing character, is on the
whole sufficiently interesting. We did not find it so
much of a ghost-story as we had expected ; the " ap-
parition" hardly plays a sufficiently prominent part to
warrant the introduction of its name on the title-
page, and yet, partly perlillps, from that very introduc-
tion, and partly from other causes, a sombre hue is,
as it were, thrown over the whole scene ; the entire
tale is invested with a degree of solemnity and gloom.
This is perhaps partly attributable to the epoch of the
narrative, " the last century," when the variouf•
minutiae of social life were so different from what
they are at present ; and it is also partly,
and indeed particularly attributable to the
peculiar style employed by the authoress,
in order to make it appear that the events
which she narrates, veritably transpired. Many
little artifices have been employed, and very skilfully,
to favour this illusion ; some events are spoken of
with a degree of reserve, as if it was quite certain
that they had occurred, but it was unnecessary for
us to dwell upon them, while of others no explana-
tory mention is made; they are briefly referred to,
as if we took it for granted they had transpired, in
the same way in which we might speak of events of
history. All this is exceedingly well contrived and
tends to increase the interest of the story, and to
impart to it an air of reality. The dramatis per-
sona presents an infinite variety of characters, some
very interesting, some not very natural. The most
conspicuous is, of course, Tracey, or, as he is gene•
rally called, Lord Ravenspur, " the bad Lord Ra-
venspur." His character is one not very uncommon
in novels, or, perhaps, in real life, an unequal com-
pound of good and bad ; one object of the volumes
of which he is the hero, is to show how much of evil
may be effected by a rich and powerful man, espe-
cially one who, like Tracey, was gifted with the
most attractive and captivating qualities of mind and
manners, to such an extent that years after his
death most virtuous persons spoke of him chiefly
as being "so pleasant." It is to this Lord
Itavenspur that the " apparition " makes its
appearance—an apparition of a young girl, wh
in consequence of his ill-conduct towards her, had
committed suicide, she comes to tell him that his days
are numbered, and to inform him of the hour of his
death. This is no very uncommon incident in stories of
ghostly visitations, and had it been omitted altogether
the interest of the book would have been but little
diminished. The love-story—and what is a novel
without a love-story ?—is not a very satisfactory or
very attractive one. The heroine is, of course, very
beautiful and very amiable ; the hero appears not verb
well qualified to enact the part of a lover, being
greatly deficient in that trustfulness or confidence
which is about as essential to the existence of love as
is the keystone to the arch, consequently during the
whole of these three volumes we find them, more
especially the lady, perpetually in incertitude, suffer-
ing all the tortures of suspense which those vifh?, have
experienced it ackno.wledge to be -Worse than the
certainty of sorrow. ' From 'these and similar cir-
cumstances the story is not, as we have said, of a very
pleasing character; it possesses, however, many.
attractions; more especially, and for a work of this
character it is no small recommendation, there
nertain degree of novelty or freshness in many of
incidents, and indeed, to a certain extent in thy' wh 16
story, added to which it is related in a very vigorous-
and effective manner, and is calculated-on the whole
to interest its readers, and to add to the reputation of
its authoress.

BOGUE'S EUROPEAN LIBRARY.
!lISTORY OF SPANISH LITERATURE. By
Frederick Bouterwek.

HISTORY of the ROMAN REPUBLIC. DU J,
Michelet. -

HISTORY of the NORMAN CONQUEST 0
ENGLAND. By Augustin 7 hierry.
CINQ MARS. An Historical Romance. By Alfred
de Vigny.
We admire the taste and discrimination with which
the component works of this serial are selected.
Excellence of binding, of ;typography, and of embel-
lishment, compactness of form, and cheapness, im-
portant considerations as they are in the book trade,
are, of course, wholly subordinate to the character of
the publication, the merits of which they are only
intended to enhance. Mr. Hogue is manifestly aware; this, and so likewise is his general editor Mr. Wil-
liam Hazlitt ; and the consequence is a periodical of
extraordinary and almost unique value. No ,
compo-
sitions are allowed admittance into the collection buy
those of acknowledged excellence and
fopropthe
larity. Nor is there any apparent favourittios
ranother,
literature of any one country beyond,tha
unless, indeed, it be visible in a
literature
• of the prolific
trans-
lation from the masterpiecesfrequent more

. ,
. of modern France. In the tour 4anslatlois iitivesati
under notice, the Utmost exactitude and faithfulnes $
are apparent, but this advantage is-accompanied by a
peculiar elegance and felicity. of language. The
books read more like original- works than transcripts
from a foreign tongue. ' They are accompanied, more-
ove:, by judicious. and sometimes elaborate explana-
tory notes ; with biographiei PrefiXtd, and these
biographies are enlivened- by eautifull enraved
portraits. Thus, for example, in b
the first of the four
volumes there is a characteristie , antique medallion
of Cervantes,._with his --slaShed doublet, his fluted
at,
ioaiint
ihyffdok
sfreiclol,ndhitshesroellisegye
seb:da
'elsatunronstieiThisittgehe
of Michelet,-with . his obli_que head, his prolonged
chin, and his bloodless and- ...v ous lips. .' In'the third
is a melancholy representation of _that eloquent-blind
man and paralytic cripEle, -AnFustin" Thierry, with
- biograpber`passionately
exclaims—" -the noblest blind faee that 'can be con-
ceived!" In the fourth is a picture which we take to
be a very uncomplimentary likeness of Count Alfred
de'Vigny, with a capacious forehead, hilt: by :no
means a "noble and melancholy" countenance, such
as he is described as possessing. From the Celetii•ated
" Geschichte des netieren Poesie-und Beremsamyrit "
of Bouterwek, the translator (ThOmasina 'Ross) has
selected the portion descriptive of the ":11istory,of
Spanish Literature," with an incidental preliminary
mention of theauthor, Frederick Bouterwek, who was
born on the 15th of April, 1766., and died on the 9th 'of
Anguat, 1828. The work is an invaluable summary
of the progress and development of a vgry fruitful
and very glorious literature Miehelet'l " History
of the Roman Republic," as it is among his earliest
productions, so it is among hishest—before his imagi-
nation had become deranged and his judgment dis-
torted. Of the magnificent " History of the Norman
Conquest of England," by Thierry—noble, wonder-
ful, unfortunate Augustin Thierry !—what shall
be said ? No praise could, scarcely be' excessive.
the work has been placed among the phenomena
of historical compositions by . the _ acclamation
not merely of France bat of Europe and of the
world. May the applause.from so many countries in
honour of Thierry carry consolation to him in the
depths of his hodily woe! may the light of his fame
which is now burning brightly, and cannot be eitin-
5 y..-..,1,,y 1., LA 6 w 414 i+te v.,x,w QC LAW. , vt..2.11ii 2auggßge,
pensate hiagreat'heitit-16r -the . dark/lei-S. of his
Solemn eyes ! Those who can sympathise with
genius in calaMity will assuredly be fain to weep
over the subjoined description of the great French
historian as he, now, lives, and breathes, and suffers in
the valley of Montmorency. The biographer describes
his making a pilgrimage to the cottage- of Thierry
for the purpose of seeing that sublime spectacle, " a
great soul struggling with physical pain." He
arrives there, with some friends; they are seated
together in the parlour with the historian's wife, and
nis brother M. Amedee Thierry, "in whose melan-
choly countenance we may read the depre,sion of his
fraternal heart." The writer cannot join in the con-
versation : he is impatient for the advent of the illus-
trious man he had come to see :

" At length I heard the soundof approaching steps; a
door cn my right opened, and a domestic appeared, car-
rying on his back a man, blind, paralyzed, incapable of
movement. We all arose :my heart was penetrated
with emotion, of a being so powerful in intellect, so
dowerless in body; the domestic in his every motion
exhibited a respectful solicitude that sensibly affected
;ne; he seemed thoroughly to appreciate the value of him
le bore. He bent gently towards an arm chair, in which
he deposited his charge, enveloping the lower part of the
motionless frame with a wrapper. This done, in an in-
stant the scene changed, and I at once recalled a
Jassage in the Essai sur la literature des Anglaise,
vhere M. de Chateaubriand describes the visit of
A contemporary to Milton. " The author of
Paradise Lost,' attired in a black doublet, reclined
n an arm-chair ; his head was uncovered, his silver hair
ell urn his shoulders, and his fine dark eyes shone
flight in their blindness upon his pallid face.' It was
!;he same head, with the exception of the white hair, that

I now saw before me ; the same face, more youthful and
vigorous, the noblest blind face that can be conceived
rhe head was firmly set upon broad shoulders ; glossy
'lair, of the deepest black, carefully parted over an ex-
pansive forehead, fell in curls bride each temple ; be-
neath their arched brows opened the dark eyes ; but for
the vagueness of their direction, I should have imagined
'hem animated with sight ; the nose was of the purest.,
Greek form ; the mouth, with lips fine, delicate, and ex-
pressive, seemed endowed with all the sensibility of
which the eyes had been deprived ; the finely turned
chin had a slight dimple at its extremity ; there was in
the contour of the face, and in the general expression
of the physiognomy, a remarkable corn bination of energy,
subtleness, and sedate tranquillity; the tones of his voice
were clear, well poised, and distinct, though, from his
feeble health, not sonorous; his bearing was, in the
highest degree, elegant; the lower portion of the frame,
as I have said, was paralyzed, but the movement of the
bust and of the arms was free; the hands, of which only
the forefinger and thumb appeared capable of action,
were gloved.

" then the name of the lady who had introducecks
was announced to him, the handsome blind man smiled,
and like the smile of Chactus in Rene, " that smile of
the mouth. unaccompanied by the smile of the eyes, par-
took of the mysterious and of the celestial." The lady
approached him, and Thierry kissed, with a chivalrous
air, the fair hand placed in his own.

"Conversation once fairly begun, that fine bead seemed
as it were radiant in the light of the intellect still finer
within. I have been in the company of many persons
who have the reputation of good talkers, and who do talk
admirably, but I have perhaps never heard any-
thing comparable with the colloquial language
If M. Augustin Thierry, in facility, perspicuity,
elegance. It is, doubtless, the habit of dictation,
that has given so much of style to his conversa-
tion; but whatever the cause, it may indeed be said of
him, that without any effort, without any affectation
whatever, he really 'speaks like a book.'
" One of oar party, M. Amr4re, was preparing to de-
part for the East; he had no sooner mentioned the cir-
cumstance, than M. Augustin Thierry discoursed to us
of the East, in what, for thought and language, was an
absolute poem; this blind man knows everything, recol-
lects everything; that which he has not seen with the
yes of the body, he has seen with the eyes of the spirit.
Like Milton, he is acquainted with nearly all the Euro-
pean languages. One of his friends told me, that he has
sometimes hard him iu the evening, seated in his gar-
den, beneath the pale ray of the setting SUR, singing,
with his feeble voice, a love song in modern Greek; and
at such moments, added my informant, he seemed to
me finer than Homer, or than the unknown Klepht, who,
himself, perhaps also blind, had composed the verses he
was reciting.
" Throughout the conversation, to which I was a silent
and attentive listener, I could detect in M. Augustin
Thierry not the slightest trace of selfishness, and the
least self-reference ; on the contrary, on the contrary,
::e who had been so cruelly tried by fate, spoke of the
sufferings and infirmities of others with the most un-
affected and touching commiseration. And thus, from
'lay to day, does this martyr to science intrepidly pursue
the task he has imposed upon himself ; at times only,
when his pains are most racking, he is heard to murmer :
Oh, that I were only blind Except in such moments
of depression, which are short and far between, and

discernable only by his most intimate associates, M. Au-
gustin Tbierry seems more a stranger to his own_ con-
dition than are those who .urroundamn de Ilisserseeunnetecso h
of im
the
science, history, poetry, anecdotes,
re
youth—he applies to these and all othern
b? jts
same r elegant,efl
reflected on
nobleoisl i
ps
dt.ctioAnt; every
shade times,
when an idea of a more peculiar grave and lofty cha-
racter arises in his mind, you can discern a movernont in
the muscles of the eye ; those blind eyes, the dark pupil
of which stands out in bold relief from the corners, open
wide ; the thought within seems essaying to make its
way through the opacity of the ball, and, after vain
efforts to effect this, returns within, descends t o the
lips, which receiving it, give it forth, not only 5n lan-
guage, but with the expression of the look ; trout time
to time, the blind man passes his poor weak har,d over
those, in every.sense, so speaking lips, as if cherishing
the precious organ, enriched for him with all the, facili
ties-tfieOlie oThernrgans have lost. The two hours we
spent with him seemed not a moment."

Alfred de Vigriy's historical romance is ,tot) well
known, and too generally appreciated, to require any
detailed expressions of approbation. The .4'n.ropean
Librizi-y will be a treasury of knowledge and enter-
tainment.

LEICESTER TRAnR.—We have no Alteration to re-
prices of
ucattinmtionotnhethheigh- the'
bpecirnrz.
rrlLlv4.rve
and'
tl6earetiiofin_anxevemrioitsree foofrAihgeßaeonirclaLn.rds
dr ktiecte ins gtrheen.
ia
.11 r f
manufacturers. It being holiday week, thei) —1
, :mills are
closed, and some of them are not expected to resume
cicorrnlic'eonhtoinnieee,mieu
working at full time. Wools : and 3'arria are but 'little,,
affected, and it is thought no 'ilia
take. lace in them. The numb tartar. alteration. will
employment is very grPat.—/ • number of workmen out of
MANCHE&I'Eft .elcestershire' Mercury.
. , FRIDAY,. 11
the holidays haveAY 28.—Since Tue.! day,
put almost an
entire stop to buSiness;
but we understand that the few
sales Etta& have a ppea red
to indicate a rather better
feeling in the:market than has
been experienced f
Guardian. - or some time previously-.—Manchester

Trade operations have been nearly suspended this
week, partly, no doubt, in consequence of the holidays;
though we fear had not these occurred, very little busi-
ness would have been transacted. Our prospects Tip-
pear a little more cluering; provisions are
giving wajr in
price, the weather is very propitious, anti there :TN ars
every probability of a good harvest. We hope, [hurt-
fore, shortly to see indications of improvement.—A of.
tingham Review.
REPRESENTATION or LEEDS.—The Liberal el
ec-
tors of Leeds are still in correspondence with Joseph
Sturge, Esq , who has taken time to deliberate on the
proposal made to him. The hope is entertained, tilt ,t in
about a week Mr. Sturge may visit the town for the:pur-
pose of addressing the inhabitants.— Leeds Mercury.
REMARKABLE CIRCIMISTANC E.—As the children of
a gentleman residing in Larne were playing along the beau h
near that town their attention was attracted to the neck of a
bottle projecting out of the sand; and, upon its being in t-
corked, a document was found inside, of which the following
is a verbatim 'copy :—" September 1, 1843.—1, Willian
Carson, was born in a small fishing village in Coynwall..
When" a I Went to sea. contrary to the wishes of my rtarents.
Whilst making Otaheite, we ran upon a coral rest The
boats were staved, and I alone escaped to land. -Let those
who find this short account try, (or God's sake, to 'tree a potax
Wretch who has now been in banishment three years,'. „
Cornwall Gazette.