The Sun.
London, England, 1846-06-25 00:00:00

r .1' int A-r u
THE ELE,VATIi:2I' OF THE PEOPLE'. 13y the:
Bev. T. Milner, ill A
The title of this wet kat acct 31S ur syrep,ally,
awl excites eur iteetest. The elevate:li of p. !-
what varied thoughts arc conjured up b) tba brat
phrase We see before us-the tivehty tied mete in
their einete eraittleur and actual degree:aim-. We see
before us the poeerfel sinews. et th, social e aeie ; the
blase or the nationel ; tete root, t:;e t
cause of all the greatneee and glory ot our cetintry—,-and
we see them, alas, in sorrow, in buffo; ieg, and in- shaate..
The bare twin of " the People" realm !r, us of th- it il-
limitable power; the thought of their " Elevadion" rceals
their sad position : it tells ns of what they sk uld be.
and painfully contrads elm they are; but a'se in tee
gentle voice of hope. it whispers, what they may, and:
what a strong conviction assures us, they shall be. This.
moment is peculiarly appropriate for such though.s—
this moment, %hot the beams of morning are dispelling
the darkness of night ; when hope is being merged in
certainty, sand the fulfilment of some of our met
anxious expectatiteis bids us anticipate the realise ion of
the whole. In all human affairs there is an inevttsble ten-
dency to advance, and not only o advance, but t o improve ;
for the apparent increase of evil only tends et its os
ultimate destruction. The pent up waters, restrained
for a time, acquire new force in their accumulation, and
rising at last, overthrow all bonds ; and so has all,
tyranny, temporarily triumphant, succumbed eventually
to the power of the oppressed. [lance all the revolu
tions of old, and hence ours of the present day. Hence
our rebellion, not with fire and sword against eome;cep-
tred despot. but a social rebellion egaint social tyranny
—a revolution._ operating in our . hearts. Let those, -if
any there are, who doubt this, but earnestly, regard the
signs of tile times ; the sorrows of the poor, once turned
from with contempt—the wkongs of the many, once re-
garded with indifference, are now the objects of general
investigation—are now the objects of an retention almost
" universal as its theme." We hear of them in the gen
tle voice from the throne, in the earnest language of the
. minister, in the animated debates in the Parliament-
house, or the impassioned eb.quence of the multitude.
We read them on every page, whether the pull
titian's or the poet's, portrayed with the terrible realities
of truth, or clothed in the earied. adornments of, ro-
mance. We learn them in various,. ways, but we do
learn them ; and all these ways, however differing in
themselves, are only parts of one great .movement—of
one simultaneous endeavour. Their object is to expose
evil, and thereby to remedy it ; to make us feel for the
suffering and think 'how to alleviate it ; and of such a
clues% the work before us. To recommend it to atten-
tion seems almost a work of supererogation. 'maim is
to promote the elevation of the people, " mot al, instruc-
tional, and socket." and it dies so in a inest sietele and
effective manner, alike free from enthusia‘m and preju
dice. The greater portion is deveted to education ;
various systems are anal.) seri, and various examples
cited. Commencing with a "glance at bs gone tits es,"
it furnishes us with a brief sketch o
d f the condition of the
country, or rather of the people, down to the present
day. In the chapter einphatically named " The Strife
for Life" we have a heart- ren ling picture of the terrible
struggles, daily and hourly endured by many theusands,
in every. part ot the kingeotn ; struggles ot which their
happier brethren, who " live at home in ease" can hardly
form an adequate conception. Not decked out in
plausible proottbilities, but, as learned by Commis-
owners and other
_inquirers on the spot, the Olin un-
varnished truth is here made manifest to us. We read
of the lace maker's children, not four years old, work-
ing twelve hours a day ; we hear the mother of six
children declaring "we never see such a this g as
butcher's meat—we never know what it is to get enough
to eat." We read of the -' morality of dens and wig-
wams" (nom- s mere apprepriate than cottages for our
wretched habitations) where many persons of all ages.
and both sexes sleep together in the sauna room, so me-
times in the same bed. Hew terrible, how awful is the
following p..ragraph, if it be tree. which we will
ardently hope it is not:—" Some years ago, Mr. Walme-
ley estimated the amount annually realised as the wage'
of crime (in Liverpool) at seven hundred thsusand
pounds. A subcommittee of the Town Council was ap-
pointed to examine this statement, and they revved
the conviction that the immense sum was not exaggeratear
The concluding chapter of this work enumerates the
"social improvements already projected asd commenced,
and dissiontes the gloom imseired by a retrospect of the
past in contemplating the better things which are at
hand, or which are even now being realia .d. For all
persons of all ages, and of all clases, this volume sh.
and will, be deeply interesting. The young will
more true wisdom and more practical knowledge, from
studying this present state of their own countrymen,
than from contemplating the deeds of the heioes of old,
however vividly or nervously depicted. And the very
impartial and general character of the work will prevent
it from clashing with political opinions, save in a few
instances, and its moderate and straightforward tone
must preserve it from offending any, save the selfish or
the prejudiced, whose censure will be preferable to com-
mendation. _ _ .

TJIORNBBRBY ABBEY. A Tale of the
dished Church.
s.Rasselas" sprang from the well of pure English
fiction, so did the " Vicar of Wakefield," so did the
Christma.! Carol." There is nothing meretricious in
the composition or the conception of either of them ;
of each might most truly be declared that "none btu
itself could be its parallel." Of the first the .prii:cipal
characteristic is thoughtfulness ; the second is e*sen-
tud..ly domestic ; the last is a combination of wit, medi-
c, pathos. domesticity, and drollery, th chief
charm of which is its spontaneOuriness ; everj, ser4:ment
is, as it were, the cushla ma three, "the pulse .f
toy
heart." But beyond the idealism of each story, one of
the rarest beauties of these three is the remarkable
purity of the language in which they are couched ;
they smack in ev, ry sentence of our insular literature ;
they could alone have been produced by an inhabitant of
"la per:fide Albion." For this same purity and nation-
ality of style, the little volume called. "
a Thornberry
er
Abbey " can put in a very fair claim ;
nd howev
much the imaginativeness of the narrative may he ham-
pi red and suppressed by its professedly polemical ten-
dency, we cannot but acknowledge that as a literary
composititai alone it possesses su.gular attributes of
attraction. We have not, undoubtedly, the temerity to
classify the writer with a Johnson, a Goldsmith, or a
Dickens ; the, thing would be a flagrant rebellion
against judicious taste and classical propriety ; but n'e
are assured that as a composition, the present volume
would nut have been disdained by those fine intel ects.
The tale is plainly but honestly tad ; it is simple, but its
diction rings well even upon the accustomed ear. Nor
is the purpose of the whole a deterioration of this
merit ; it is consonant with it for its gentleness, its
earnestness, and its truthfulness. There are none of
the hackneyed commonplaces of the habitual ,ontro-
versialist ; there are no gleams of acerbity, indicative
of the bigot ; no deprecations of this beautiful world.
or of society at large, such as furnish matter for vitupe-
ration to the fanatical mind. The doctrines are ad-
vanced. not disgracedogm, but meekly ; the controversy
is unaffecteilly an fully written. Many of the
characters introduced are singularly life-like and mid,
ex. gr. Lady Martin and Mrs. Hardy. 'lr., first inter.
view between these two .reil.oubtab e ladies is caid.ally
told.
James Eynon, again, is a faithful transcript from.
an original ;
his lamentations over imaginary ir-übles
form :good representation of a half-missothropo, half
form It would be rather ungracious to define
the plot,
of the story, as by so cliing we should deprive
the book of much. of its
. !attraction ; other w ad. we
should be destroyuig its interest. However much may
be our difference of. opinion, w•. can commend this
" Tale of the Established Church "as a pleasant, en,
tertaining, and thornuchiv Ann-lime, fiction.

LAMENTABLE MISTAKE A INDSOR. NJ ESD 4y EVEN.
yesteielay aftr-
'rm.— An unfortunate occurrence took place
noon at St. Leonard's-place, near Windser, which. leisi
feired, may prove fatal, to La Marquise d'Harcourt,
who is on a visit to Mr. W. Harcourt, at his resi-
dence at St. Leonard's. It appears that La Marquise had
been Attended for some time past by Messrs. Brown and
Andrews, of this town, surgeons to the royal house-
hold. By a lamentable oversight on tire part of a domes-
tic, a bottle containing an ounce and a half of a very
drone preparation of laudanum was administered ro
the unfortunate lady in mistake for a draught ot medi-
cine. Shortly afterwards the error was discovered, and a
messenger instantly dispatched to Windsor for medical aid
Within forty minutes of the discovery being made Mr.
Andrews was in attendance. and administered the proper
remedies to neutralise the effects of the poison; but from
the advanced age of th entertained is in her 76th year)
the greatest fears were of her not being enabled
to recover from the severe shock she has experienced. At 6
o'clock this evening La Marquise was considered to be in the
most imminent danger. Her medical attendants, however,
have still hopes that she may be restored, should inflamma-
tion, from the strong remedies which it.was eecessary to re-
sort to, not take place. La Marquise d'ilarcourt is the relict
a Major-General Charles Ameeee Harcourt Marquis d',Har-
court, a peer of France, who was killed by a tall from his
horse in 1831, at St. Leanard's, and was buried at Albury
- Church, Hertfordshire, in the family vault of the late Sir
Richard Harcourt.
DANGER OF BATHING IN TEE TEAMES.—On Sunday
morning, two young lads, the one about sixteen, and the
other about twenty. years of age, tailors, in the employ
ment of Mr. Hirris, Hare street, and Mr. glide, Powis-
atreet. Woolwich, were drowned while bathing in the River
!Thames, near Charlton Pier, and their bodies have not been
found, On Monday evening another lad about sixteen
years of age, named Lyne
I;as drowned' while ,bathing
nearly opposite Warren-lane,
found about an hour afterward., by and his body was
the use of the d; aw had been tri:dby employing a net, after
-wee prevalent that two other youth for
some time. A report
late been drowned while
while
ivererel
bathing at Plum stead Marshes.
that these numerous fatal accidents
swell in the riveirleobathing
impression le,
Thames arises from thein the
passing of
the water
large steam vessels, which causes an action the•
.contrary to the tidal current of the river,
ainiain
by bathers as throwing, there off their I. gs Is ("clibed
water, and drowning those who are not vial switOti
into deeper
PATRItaIC DRINKING.--" Now I ,ix t ..it fl. 1.-s
wog supp its the
best citterzen, tom as supports Guverment, or:hi h''''
doesn't? Why, him as does, in course. We suppot ts Gun‘l•ears
ment, we febers—every man as oriole-,
Guverment—that is, if be linkers at a licensed house. Every
blessed drop of ticker he *wailers there is taxed to pay the
salary of some of them ere great big wigs. 'Spose we was to
quit 'drinking, why, Guvermenteas must fall—it could
dn't help
kie
t
no how. That's the werre re I drinks. don' li
grog--Imortelly hates it. if I loitered my own incleraatior,
I'd rather drink buttermilk, or ginger pop, or soda water.
_But I tickers for the gool of my.coutitty, pop,
set an example
.a patriotism arid wirtus self-denial to the rising generatiou."
..American paper.
TOE BANKRUPT-LAW.—" Sala°, what your 'pinion
,ob dat bankrupt-law ;" "Tink him fuss-rate, Pompey ; I
imply for the application myself." "Just explain him prin-
.eiples." "Why, you see now; just lend me dat half-dollar
:yo got for whitewashing." (Pompey hands him the ,
meney,
And Senate) deliberately puts it into his pocket.) " Dere
den," says &mho. " new I owes de shoe Maker tree shillings,
and you half a dollar, besidegas; recer's bill ; now dis
dud you
is all de property I I diwides him uccording
to my debts." Fotopey—" I take that half dollar back."
Rambo (with amazement)—" Do you tink dis child green?
I'm 6 bankrupt; you gets your share wid do oder can