The Sun.
London, England, 1848-09-12 00:00:00

Tllll SUN, LONDON, TUESDA Y EVENING, SEPTEMBER l2, INit,::

Additional .ArrivA4 Brocardo, Good Boy, and
Swallow.

awson's horses have nit arrived.

AQUATICS.
ROWING MATCH BETWEEN ROYAL AND MILLS
AND GOATLEY AND J. COOMBES.
The second match, for 101. aside, between these men
took place yesterday afternoon. They had previously
contended, about three weeks ago, when, in consequence
of the very squally state of the weather, Royal and
Mills were swamped, after performing above half the
distance, and their opponents, who were slightly astern
at the time, rowed the remainder of the course, in
order to claim. The distance in the yesterday's race
was the same as on the previous occasion, from Vaux-
hall-bridge up to a boat moored off Lentell's, the Old
Swan, Battersea, and back to Thames-bank. There
was plenty of money lai,i out at even, Royal and part-
ner for choice. Both boats were started at the same
instant, and after being scull and scull for a few strokes,
Royal and Mills began to lead, and off the Pimlico
Pie-r
had drawn their length clear. The race vtas a
severe one throughout, but notwithstanding the exer-
tions of Goatley and partner, their opponents rounded
the distance boat at Battersea 130 yards in advance.
From this point Goatley and Coombes began to gain
upon their opponents, and so rapidly, as they neared
the Red House, that it appeared very questionable
whether they would not overhaul them. Such, how-
aver, was not the case. Royal and Mills continued to
retain the lead, and won by upwards of half a length
clear, after as gallant a race as ever was witnessed.

C RICE ET.

IHE ELEVEN OF ALL ENGLAND v. TWENTY OF

RIPON AND DISTRICT.
This match, which, as is already known, commenced
at Ripon, in Yorkshire, on Thursday, and when All
England, with the loss of nine wickets, obtained 82 runs
ere the stumps were drawn for the day. On Friday the
play was resumed, and at the termination of the play for
that day, the score stood thus:—England, 82 and 22,
with three wickets down; Ripon, 71. On Saturday the
match was continued. The Eleven made up their second
hands to 65, by which they put the Ripon in 76 to
tie, or 77 to win. That number, however, the Riponites
failed in obtaining by 33, by which amount the Eleven
of England were the victors.
ELEVEN GENTLEMEN v. ELEVEN PLAYERS.

This match, which was for the benefit of Brockweil,
one of the bowlers to the Surrey Club, was played yes
terday, at the Kennington-oval, when there was a nume-
rous gathering of amateurs and professors in the game.
There was a large amount of first-class play, but strong
as were the gentlemen, the victory of the day was in the
end declared in favour of the players by a majority of
41 runs. One innings only was played. The players
having gained the toss, went in the first, which act was
very many chances in their hands.

LITERATURE.
T 1 EMINIS CEA CES OF FRI2,'CE TALL EY-
RAND. 2 Vels. By i,l. CoLnaci.e.
Very rt.cently we noticed the publication of a Mo•
graphical work on the Moloch of the Revelation.—
Honore Gabriel, the Count de Mirabeau. We have
now to comment upon the appearance of a biogra-
phical work upon the Belial of that same Revolution
—Charles Maurice, the Prince Talleyrand. Other-
wise than that both productions are printed in two
volumes octavo, and that they illustrate the modern
history of France by the memorials of two extra-
ordinary men, no books could scarcely exhibit more
striking dissimilarities. One was as repulsive in
manner as the other is fascinating ; one was a record
of debaucheries, the other is a collection of witticisms;
one breathed of the dungeon and the brothel, the
other is redolent of the boudoir and the drawing-
room. It is true that in some particulars there was
a resemblance between the incongruous character of
Mirabeau and Talleyrand. They were both of
ancient blood and noble families, they were
both tutored by the infidel philosophy of
Voltaire, and both intoxicated in some measure
by the seductive aspirations of Rousseau—that Rous-
seau who has been christened by Lamartine, "the
philosopher of love and the poet of politics." They
were colaborateurs with the Abbe Cerutti in the con-
duct of the Feuille Villageoise. They were both
treated with unnatural brutality by their parents—
Mirabeau by his father, because of his ugliness ; Tal-
leyrand by his mother, because of his lameness. They
were each of them nicknamed by an opprobrious
soubriquet Mirabeau was the Monster, Talley-
rand was the Diable Boittux. The career of the one
was marked by an astonishing variation of titles—
one while it was Peter Buffiere, another
Count Beaumont, another St. Mathieu, another
M. Gabriel, another Count Mirabeau. The career
of the other was in like manner rendered re-
markable—now it was M. de Perigord, now the
young Abbe, now the Bishop of Autun, now Citizen
Talleyrand, now the Prince de Beneventum, now
again Prince Talleyrand. Both occupied a conspi-
cuous position in the events which made
France the wonder of the nations and the
scourge of Europe ; and both died upon
their beds after receiving from their respective sove-
reigns tokens of an almost reverential solicitude.
Louis XVI. caused messengers to carry intelligence
of the progress of Mirabeau's disease from the resi-
dence of the dying orator to the palace of the
Tuileries, while Louis Philippe in person proceeded
from the Tuileries to the Hotel Talleyrand for the
purpose of paying a last homage to the veteran diplo-
matist. Here the superficial congruity terminates,
and the antithesis begins. Mirabeau was one of the
greatest orators who ever moved the hearts of millions
with the sound of a human voice. Talleyrand, on the
contrary, had no pretensions to eloquence, and even
in the ordinary powers of debating scarcely rose
above mediocrity. Mirabeau was all impetuosity,
Talleyrand all premeditation. Mirabeau was enthu-
siasm itself, Talleyrand the very incarnation of phleg-
matic frigidity. Mirabeau had a daring greater than
that of Danton and St. Just combined,
whereas the guile of Talleyrand surpassed
the craft of 011ivier and the calculation
of Machiavelli. If any more powerful token could be
desired as to the actual oppositeness of their intellects
and their dispositions, it might be found in the bare
outline of the facts which form the basis of their
biographies. Mirabeau was all candour, all openness,
all courage, all generosity—his mind never dreamt of
conciliating by flattery, his patriotism never dwindled
into selfishness, his valour never admitted of decep-
tion, his whole nature revolted from time-serving, his
genius was altogether too splendid to be blackened by
ingratitude. Such was not Talleyrand. With him
everything was deceit, reservation, cunning, mean-
ness, and egotism ; expediency became the watchword
of his life; self-aggrandizement was the beacon of his
fortunes ; and before the one indomitable idol SELF
everything—friendship, old affections, loyalty,
oaths sworn upon the Gospel and ratified by
the kiss of an anointed hand—were deemed
as little worthier than a heap of barley-husks, to be
blown away by the breath of his nostrils, or trodden
into the dust under his ignoble feet. In this respect
he has no parallel, if we except a man now living,
who, with a plastic allegiance, has successively de-
livered in the assurances of his homage and fealty to
the bloody Triumvirate of Terror, to the Directory,
to the Consulate, to the Emperor Napoleon, to
Louis XVIII , to Charles X to Louis Philippe, to
the moderate Republicans of February, and as he
would infallibly do to-morrow towards the Red Re-
volutionists, supposing Ledru Rollin were raised to
the Presidentship, and the guillotine again erected on
the Place de Greve. Is.it very difficult to conjecture
the man we allude to as a worthy companion of the
time-serving Talleyrand? Is it impossible to
detect under our insinuation the old Marshal-
General of France, Citizen Soult, once the Duke of
Dalmatia ? To speak, however, directly as to the
present contribution towards the future biography of
Prince Talleyrand. We are informed on the title-
page that the work consists of " Reminiscences,"
edited from the papers of the late M. Colmache,
private Secretary to the Prince, by Madame Col
mache. Having read the two volumes throughout,
and having already perused very many works relat-
ing to Talleyrand, not to speak of a distinct and
laborious " Life" of the diplomatist, in four big
volumes--we may be permitted to say that the pro-
duction, edited by Madame Colmache, is rather
amusing as a romance than instructive as a history.
If we except, indeed, an appendix comprising
" Prince Talleyrand's Maxims for Seasoning Con-
versation," a fragment.frem his autobiography giving
his " Opinion of Fox," and selections from several
of his letters and speeches—we might describe the
work as a brilliant compilation of exceedingly im-
probable but delightful and entertaining anecdotes.
We know no book recently published that has
charmed us so thoroughly, not only in the elegant
and florid style of its composition, but also
in its continuous and sustained interest, its
vivid
im
evidencessentent, a
of imagination,
itsimagination,
pervadingit
shupmioquura,ney. T
its grace,he
its
tendency of every chapter is, of course, to elevate the
statesman in our estimation—a feat which, in our re-
spect, is as entirely hopeless as the restoration of
Humpty-Dumpty to the garden wall in the nursery
song. Of the licentious youth of the Prince not a
word is whispered; of his heartless prevarications of
policy nothing ; of his ingratitude nothing ; of his
pliant flattery nothing. We only see Talleyrand
through the medium of these " Reminiscences" as
the wit, as the aristocratic revolutionist, as the cour-
tier, as the statesman. We will give a few examples
of the colouring of the work, and our first quotation
is the more amusing, inasmuch as it is the first re-
partee ever uttered in society by Talleyrand when
pre-
liminarysimply the Abbe de Perigord. It is his first repartee
a t mustion,
that
tobserve,he
incident
way of
occur-
red at a brilliant assembly in the salons of Ala-
dame de Boissiere. Talleyrand, with the slyness
of a young collegian, had retired with Philidor, the
celebrated chess-player, to a secluded corner of the
principal drawing-room to watch the celebrities who
were present without being himself observed—when
two officers of the regiment of Royal Cravatte ap-
proached with the determination of frightening the
novices from their chairs, simply to suit their own
convenience :
" They advanced straight to where Philidor and his
companion were seated, and, with an insolence which
can hardly be understood in our day, but which it ap-
pears was quite the mark of high birth an fashion at
that time, began to annoy, by their loud talking and rude
behaviour, the occupants of the two seats which they
coveted. Poor Philidor, whose meekness and patience
were proverbial, soon became alarmed, and sounded a
retreat at once without parley. He rose, with a fright-
ened look at the able, and, remarking that the room was
so insupportably hot that he was stifled, walked away on
tiptoe, not even daring to cast a glance behind. The
Chevalier de Boufflers, one of the gammons, immediately
seized the vacated chair, mad sat upon it soldier-fashion,
astride upon the seat, with his chin resting on the back,
staring with effrontery at the young able, who, nothing
dauntid,remained quietly in the same position that he
had maintained during the whole evening. He had over-
heard every word of the conversation which had passed
between the two friends as they approached, and was
determined not to move an inch. The Royal Cravatte
stood beside the hussar, and the abl é was thus com-
pletely hemmed in, save on the side next the door,
through which it was the evident intention of the two
friends to make him soon vanish. Finding, however,
their intention completely defeated by the cool manner
with which it was received, the Royal Cravatte lost pa-
tience, and asked the able, with a sneer, if the heat of
the place did not incommode him, at the same time ad-
vising him, with condescending kindness to seek the re-
freshing coolness of the second salon, as his friend had
thanwt
hi
that,
ht kabi
nebiglnacptnhdoe
fpo oaffil i
et ce rn
ratheref so sr peculiarhcihschilly
yt
attention,
ennt
aot
uho
rni se, mb
he
ent napesrrseuerervireng
preferred
already done at their approach. But the able answered
dt hhei nmre-
maining in the warmer apartment. Royal Cravatte
thereupon grew angry; he was a Cadet de Montigny,
not long arrived from Normandy, and had not yet lost
his miserable Norman drawl.
I)ites dent, mon cher abbe,' said he. Perhaps, as
you are just born, you may not yet have been to school;
you have yet to learn many things, Monsieur l'Abl é,
among which'— Pardon me, interrupted the able,
starting up, with heightened colour and with flashing eye,
and mimicking the lengthened nasal twang of the officer,
I have been to school, and have learnt my letters, and
know that an abbe (A B) is not made to ceder (C D),
and 'tis not your epee P) that can make me titer
(0 T).'
" The loud voice and insolent gesture of the officer had
caused a little knot of the assembled guests to gather
round, and this sally was received with roars of laughter.
Boufflers, who never could resist pleasantry, seemed
more diverted than any one present; and, while the dis-
comfited Royal Cravatto slunk away among the com-
pany, unable to bear the mockery e hich the witty retort
of the able had brought upon him, Boufflers shook him
heartily by the hand, and applauded the jest with right
good will.
By way of contrast here is the description of the re-

nowned Balsamso from the lips of Talleyrand himself,
who then first beheld the necromancer :
" Cagliestro was then a nnn in the very flower of his
age, of exceedingly prepossessing appearance. Hisperson,
persen, altheu;,,h smell, was so well and firmly knit that
its proportions seemed those of a much larger man. His
countenance was remarkably keen and penetrating,
being formed of a succession of sharp angular lines,
which gave him a look of cunning that he would wil-
lingly have disguised, and with which the solemn tone
and mysterious aspect were altogether at variance. His
sharp piercing eyes I shall never forget; they absolutely
seemed to light up the obscurity of the chamber, and,
as they flashed from the one to the other of his visitors,
they seemed to belong to some wild bird of prey hesitat-
ing between two victims which to devour first. His
beard and eyebrows were black and bushy, with here and
there a streek of grey amid their jetty blackness, telling
more of the hand of woe than of the passage of time.
When we entered, he had upon his head a velvet cap,
which, with gentlemanlike courtesy, he duffed w hen he
addressed us, and then I perceived that the summit of
his crown was alt.t ady bald, a!though his hair curled
downward upon his neck and shoulders in a thick and
silky mass. The hand which rested upon the table, and
upon which he seemed to be leaning his whole weight as
he stood in graceful and theatrical attitude, awaiting our
communication, was small and delicate as that of a lady
of the court, and shone out upon the dark green velvet
as white as snow; and yet it needed not any very pro-
found knowledge of anatomy to enable the beholder to
diceru at once that it was the hand.of a man possessed
of most herculean strength and power, so vigorous were
the firm knit muscles, so well strung the tightened, cord-
like nerves. I think he observed with some displeasure
the curiosity with which I gazed towards it, for ho with-
drew it suddenly, and let it fall by his side."
- - -

The Prince also beheld on one occasion a much more
wonderful man—Voltaire. Here is his sketch of the
philosopher:—
"M. de Voltaire was seated on the edge of his bed,
attired in one of those short loose dressing-gowns much
worn at the time, and which displayed his spindle legs
and shrunken feet in all their unveiled ugliness. Never
have I beheld a form so withered, so diminished; every
vein in his whole frame was visible and defined, like those
in an anatomical study. The later portraits of M. de
Voltaire give a very just idea of his appearance, but they
generally fail in expressing the singular look of the eyes
—an expression which I never have seen in any one since
that time—an anxious, unquiet, restless:look—a hungry,
thirsty, keenly-searching glance (hunger and thirst of
praise), and searching with avidity for admiration, which,
such was the Voltairian fever of the time, ho never
failed to obtain, and yet, as Cappeed vient en niangeant,'
never wholly satisfied his craving."

He says further on,—
Every line of that remarkable countenance is en-
graven on my memory. I see it now before me—the
small fiery eyes staring from the skrunken sockets, not
unlike those of a cameleon; the dried and withered
cheek traversed in every direction by deep cut lines; the
compressed lips and puckered mouth, round which
played a perpetual, sarcastic smile, giving him altogether
the air of a merry friend."
As a companion sketch here is M. Colmache's por-
traiture of the Prince himself:—
"It is, in fact, one of the most extraordinary qualifi-
cations of this great man, and forms a parallel to what is
told of the fascinating influence of Napoleon. llis power
of pleasing are so great, that he can with justice boast
of never having to combat enmity and prejudice. Those
who are accustomed to the bland and polished courtesy
of his old age can readily imagine that in youth his in-
fluence must have been all powerful. With this fascina-
tion of manner he must have also been possessed of the
most aristocratic and handsome person, from the dignity
of which, strange to say, the deformity of his foot never
detracted. lle was very fair, of most brilliant yet deli-
cate complexion, with eyes of a soft dark blue, much
covered by the lids, which contributed greatly to the air
of quiet recuillement, misconstrued by many into an
expression of cunning, which was habitual to him. His
hair has always been considered one of his greatest at-
-tractions, being of the bright golden hue, so uncommon
even in the north; and when he wore it loose over his
shoulders, neither discoloured by powder nor disfigured
by the torturing iron of the perruquier, it must have
been most beautiful. Even to this very hour, you can-
not fail to remark its rich luxuriance, It is not yet
wholly white, but merely grey, and its original golden
colour still shines bright amid the silver."
With this profile likeness, we must terminate our
remarks upon !the reminiscences of the Prince of
teneventum. The recollection of his ingratitude to
his Imperial master will survive with the remem-
brance of his diplomatic genius and with the memory
of the kindred ingratitude of the Prince of Ponte
Corvo, of the Duke of Dalmatia, of the Duke Ragusa,
of the Duke of Otranto, of the Duke of Castiglione,
and of the great arch-traitor the Prince of Wagram
and Prince of Neuchatel those men who had
received from the lavish hands of Napoleon, the
Emperor and King, dukedoms and principalities.

COURT CIRCULAR.
BALMORAL, SATURDAY.

The royal dinner party last night included her
Majesty and the Prince, the Countess of Gainsho-
rough, Viscountess Canning, the Right Hon. Sir
George Grey, the Hon. Captain Gordon, Mr. Anson,
and Sir James Clark.

This morning her Majesty and the Prince walked
out in the grounds of Balmoral.
The Princess Royal, his Royal Highness the Prince
of Wales, and Prince Alfred, accompanied by Miss
Hillyard, also walked out.
Her Majesty and his Royal Highness, accompanied
by the Countess of Gainsborough and Captain the
Hon. A. Gordon, drove out in a pony carriage on the
road to Braemar.

His Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, at-
tended by Baron Knesebeck, reached the Bishopsgate
Station of the Eastern Counties Railway yesterday
morning at a little after eleven o'clock. His Royal
Highness was received by Mr. David Waddington,
M.P. Deputy-Chairman of the Company, who con-
ducted him to the special train in readiness to start
for Norwich. It arrived at that station at 330 P.M.
On his arrival his Royal Highness was met by the
Mayor and Corporation, who conducted him to the
residence of the Bishop of Norwich, where he will re-
main during the festival.
Dispatches were received yesterday, at the Colonial-
office, from the Governors of West and South Aus-
tralia.

M. DE LAMARTINE.
TO THE EDITOR Of' 7'HE SUN.
SIR,—I consider that I would be living in neglect
of a duty which I owe to myself and the public If I
did not give expression to the unmingled delight
which I feel at the way in which you have vindicated
the character of M. de Lamartine; and also'at the way
in which he has acquitted himself from the foul ani-
madversions thrown upon him by so many
un-
grateful countrymen. of his
From the commencement of the revolution to the
present day I have both publicly and privately de-
fended the principles, the polic and the motives of
M. de Lamartine ; and I felt perfectly' satisfied that
when the whole affair was sifted to the bottom, that
he would come out of the furnace like the purified
silver " seven times refined." I am, therefore, glad,
Mr. Editor, that you have taken up your pen in vin-
dication of that truly amiable philanthropist, whose
great abilities seem to be so little valued by those he
is so willing to serve. By giving those few lines a
place in your journal you will much oblige,
A PHILANTHROPIST.
Liverpool, 9th Sept., 1848.

TO LAMARTINE.
Just as the breath on silver oft will stray,

Spreading awhile its polished surface o'er
With misty haze, then passing swift away,
Leaving the metal lambent as before,
So doth the breath of Envy on thy name—
Thou poet-statesman—cast its dimness now ;
So will it pass away, and leave thy fame
Fresh as the Muses' wreath that decks thy brow.
And as the rain-drops on the swan's white wing
No traces leave, but glance into the tide,
So shall the shafts that thy accusers fling
Fall, with their poison, harmlessly aside,
Leaving no mark of their attack behind,
No stain upon thy purity of mind.
Southwark.

J. B.

DEATH OF Mn. WOOTTEN, THE WEALTHY BARKER i
OF OXFORD.—liichard Wootton, Esq., banker,
Oxford,
died on Saturday last, after a short illness at his resi-
dence at Iflley, in the 85th year of his age, lie was a
, and attended to
u It raat
toerrdai n a
until
t fbusinessa haa bits
few
hours of his
mbdaeanantkhio.nrglie e x
is said to have amassed a fortune of 500,0001.
For many years he was a draper as well as banker, but
relinquished the former some time since. In many of
his economical habits he was not outdone by the late
"Jemmy Wood," of Gloucester celebrity,
THE NEW POST•OFFICE ACT.—The new Act of
Parliament for further regulating the money-order de-
partment of the Post-office (11 and 12 Viet. c. 88), re-
ceived the royal assent on the 31st ult. By this Act it is
provided that no money-orders granted under the statute
3 and 4 Vict., cap. 96, shall continue in force longer than
twelve months, and the liability of the Postmaster-Ge-
neral to pay such orders to cease after that period, ex-
cept in cases with the consent of the Treasury. Power
is now given to the Treasury, by warrant, to alter the
period fixed for the payment of money-orders, to be no-
tified in the London Gazelle. The Postmaster-General
may make regulations relating to money-orders, and he
may refund the amount of money orders to the parties
obtaining the same, or to other persons. An officer of
a money-order with a
of felony. For the more
effectual prosecution of offenders, it is declared, by the
fraudulent
Post-officedulent intent, grantingtobe or
guiilstsyuing
fifth section, that it shall be sufficient in indictments to
name " her Majesty's Postmaster-General," without any
other addition.
WEST INDIAN PRODUCE.—A vessel arrived from
Puerto de Taga, has brought 200 bundles of Cuba grass,
as a portion of her cargo. We are unaware of the exact
nature
o r t
a tf
oonf
tthis e
onearticle
considerable
called,aid e r
baleen
novelty,
0 v presumingti the
artrhier
arrival
of interest.

,SPITIT the .TOUhNALS.

THE 3100 NING PAPEKS OF' THIS D.Y.
TIMES.—Lord John Itussell Las just been in Ire-
land. Lord George Be-ntinck, as will t,e seen by fetters
we publiA to-day, has been entreated to fellow the
Prr example. We cannot blame Irishmen for
wishing that English statesmen should f) ova time to
time make a senatorial progress through their division
of the empire. Amongst the many hallucinations set
afloat by the inventive brain of Daniel O'Connell, one of
the most monstrous was the ignorance he imputed to
Englishmen of Ireland and all thin4s Irish. His was
pretty much the phrase in use among Spaniards, when
asked for an explanation of their Peninsular anomalies.
Cosas de Espana, be ignorant and be content. So with
the late Mr. O'Connell, " Irish peculiarities" were a
sufficient explanation of all that was strange or unsatis-
factory in his countrymen's proceedingr. Englishmen
knew nothing of Irishmen. Morally and fhysicaily
life in Ireland was developed upon anomalous principles.
Children were born upon anomalous principles. Cart)
ripened, bogs stood unreciaimed, pigs waxed in
stature upon anomalous principles. The brains of
Englishmen could not compass the mystery. Irelanu
was like one of those pictorial rebuses in the Charicari
that nobody ever yet guessed. O'Connell and his kind
alone held in their pockets the solution of the er.igwa.
These Hibernian Levites could alone stand as mediators
between Irish impulse and English calculation. They
were the only Pundits to translate the wants of their
countr) men from an unknown dialect into an intelligible
tongue. Never was a more monstrous fable invented
even by the deceased Liberator, and that is saying
much. Ile succeeded, however, in giving currency to
the opinion throughout his country, and in the resent
invitations to English statesmen to visit Ireland, and
imbue their minds with the true indigenous theory of
Irish misery on the spot, we see a result—certainly a
harmless result—of O'Connell's constant efforts to per-
suade his countrymen that Ireland was a great social
myster
can mystery.
Ith have added difficult
muchto se
to stock Lord
of
John
Russell ac-
quired knowledge upon Irish affairs by his jour-
ney, nor is it likely that Lord George Bentinck would
e h howis
have had a better success, even had he travelled through
the most distressed districts of the country. To see
potatoes rotting in the ground is merely suggestive of -a
crop destroyed. To be surrounded by a crowd of
wretched half-starved Irish peasants would tell one
nothing new. We should know that their case was very
pitiable indeed, and we knew that before. Such sad
spectacles may arouse the careless to forethought, and
the hard-hearted to compassion; but they cannot indicate
a system of relief where the experience acquired in two
years of starvation and all the efforts of an ingenious
humanity hare proved at fault. The character of the
people may be an anomaly, but there is nothing in
Ireland abnormal in the condition of earth, air, and
water—nothing beyond the fact that agricultural processes
which are well performed in the Lothians or in Suffolk
are badly carried out in Galway or the county of Clare.
The relations of master and servant, landlord and tenant,
employer and employed, upon which society must ulti-
mately depend, are, as we know too well, throughout a
great portion of Ireland in a state of hopeless disorder.
We have had blue books and commissions, and reports
upon Irish matters, until not a grievance or an inch of bog
remains unstabulated or unknown. We are full of informs-

Lion upon Ireland, and we have acquired our information
from nearly ever source but the one to which we had
most right to look—the speeches of the Irish Members
in the Imperial Parliament. Lord George Bentinck
brings a graver charge against the Representatives of
Ireland. He goes straight to his point, and tells his
correspondent that when any measure is proposed for
the real benefit of Ireland, the Irish Members are the
first to fall off at the slightest hint of favour from the
Treasury Bench. Lord George writes,—" It is not re-
peal of the union that Ireland wants; she wants men to
represent her who, understanding her material and sub-
stantial interests, are able and willing to promote and
maintain them, and will not, on the one hand, to gain
the shouts of the mob, divert public and Parliamentary
attention to phantom reforms that have no substantial vir-
tue in them; or, on the other hand, sell their votes to win
the smiles, or, may be, something more valuable in the
e,ift of the Minister of the day." We would gladly see
Irishmen taking these home truths to heart. They
should consider if their situation be now one in which
self-deception is any longer possible. Lord Clarendon,
the other day, in receiving a deputation at the Castle,
as appeared in our report, expressed himself indignant
beyond measure at the system of jobbery in the relief
funds which had prevailed from the: highest to the
lowest. Did not the millions which were diverted from
the sustenance of the English labourer or artisan, after
all, reach the Irish peasant ? Irish Members have
told us they did not. Is England, then, likely to con-
tribute a second time in the face of so terrible a prece-
dent? Send suitable Irish representatives to Parlia-
ment, says Lord George Bentinck. No more jobbing
amongst the gentry when funds are contributed from the
other divisions of the empire for the relief of the starv-

thoughts which
ct
tthgbaeaowfirtitvilni
ing poor, adds Lord Clarendon. This has been the
argument from time immemorial against the possibility
Of affording relief to Ireland. Lord Chesterfield, when
Lord-Lieutenant at Dublin, as nearly as may be a hun-
dred years back, in 1746, made the same strictures and
uttered the same complaints as his successor in 1848. If
the following representation was true in 1746, and
pretty much the same tale holds good in 1848, under
what guidance have the bulk of the people acted in the
interval? In September, 1746, we find Lord Ches-
terfield writing thus to Mr. Thomas Prior:--" The con-
dition of Ireland sufficiently proves that truth. How
different would the state of your lands, your trade, your
manufactures, your arts and sciences, have been now
from what it is, had they been the objects of general, as
they have been of your particular, attention! I still less
recant what I said about claret, which is a known and
melancholy truth; and I could add a great deal more
aaybgbeeeuo shouldsrviecurious,
theirdistinguishedof
u s
o me, and
the
ai
nannskad
upon that subject, 5,000 tuns of wine imported communi-
bus annis into Ireland is a sure, but indecent, proof of
the excessive drinking of the gentry there, for the in-
ferior sort of people cannot afford to drink wine there, as
are
eny chieflyo f them ee mm
employed
here;ed in destroying so that th etsheesc,ooonos
constitutions,
oonf
sw:i
thene
faculties, and too often the fortunes, of those of superior
rank, who ought to take care of all the others. Were
there to be a contest between public cellars and public
granaries, which do you think would carry it? I
believe you will allow that a claret board, if there
were one, would be much better attended than the
linen board, unless when flaxseed were to be dis-
tributed.
orfeh.
ri
r3bey.
favourites,
aeut
vsearhods
shallow
3.
larlaniotnwelus
manufactures,
ableemos tloui
ptLri sensiblesceoisfr:udnr
~and
der
eutmmhtt
Lord-Lieutenant
sa,innltn
ic rsaoehnuaaagsl
attentionl b
toe
such
triflinga
objects as the improvement of your langedhiston,fgttohe extension
eety:dahragianrtwreyl
government,
evionayaiuednistr he
tdaterhi
t, tnneeoigto
am:siicisauatoltthcolurti
heleefevelrasosoalrs.
ti
historically
d tvahHaarewneer ta
parties,
employ, trade,ahnland
fellow-subjects' liberties and properties. But these great
stlihrbael
than by
nbadyndt
besidesh wa that
with
f doingstah Saxon
o: it
Lord-Lieutenant
alldi
misrule. Some
engagingartseroe
mn t
remembered
should not go out of their depth. I will modestly be
It
rhies h good
Lord-Lieutenantthat is p o s -
tgeonsoaodnmtl
eoc
nfagenule;raseraltane
Ireland."
d,0.5:0 a weakcrie,iThe
thattu
rcen-
tury, ,
ot hr ere
even havehalf been een
century other
negvoi
,l influences the Irish a:2x::
reduced?ciißo
of the lives of the lords of the Castle-Raekrents, and who
thisu e was
fair work
picturein
shall wonder at the condition to which Ireland has been
NICLE.—We believe it was Burke who said
that if an unfounded statement, however improbable,
naohdpeople
ewj
theiro public;aoip nbnl
dsge
were confidently and continually repeated for a year, it
would begin to :pass current for a truth. This is the
only principle on which we can account for the partial
currency of the statement that free trade is confessedly a
failure, and that its principal advocates would gladly re-
trace their steps, and recal their measures, if they could.
The precise contrary is the fact. In their opinion, at all
events, the experiment has completely demonstrated the
soundness of the principle; and the evils inaccurately
attributed to the partial surrender of the prohibitory sys-
tem, are either owing to collateral and accidental causes,
such as bad seasons and revolutionary disturbances, or
may be traced to the relics of illiberality, by which our
commercial legislation is still unhappily disgraced. We
called attention the other day to the striking simila-
rity of doctrine which exists between the English
Protectionist and the French Communist; but, in one
important particular, the Communist is the more
enlightened of the two. If, for example, we have not
mistaken the argument of the famous Organization du
Travail, M. Louis Blanc's attacks were, almost exclu-
sively, directed against unchecked competition on ac-
count of its tendency to promote the unequal distribu-
tion of wealth; but he does not deny that production is
stimluated, and the aggregate wealth of the collective
people augmented by it. Our own opinion is, that the
free intercourse of nations is essential to the attainment
of the highest point of civilization and prosperity, at
which, in the natural progress of events, the human race
may be expected to arrive. The interchange of ideas,
1 as well as of products, accelerates the universal progress;
it is not simply our material comfort, but our moral and
intellectual culture, that is promoted; and even the gra-
dual disappearance of national prejudices, and rivalries,
which could hardly fail to come to pass, would be in it-
self of inestimable importance to mankind. At the same
time, we can perfectly understand a political reasoner
who prefers a less complicated, less luxurious, and less
refined condition of society. What we cannot under-
stand is the social theory (if they ever conceived
such a thing) of those who, making wealth, power, and
aggrandizement their main objects, and expecting
all others to follow in their train, perseveringly neglect
and discredit the only true, obvious, and available me-
thod of obtaining them. We will suppose, by way of
illustration, a man who, instead of remaining stationary
in his province, resolves to seek his fortune. He realises
his small patrimony, and embarks it in commerce. His
capital is doubled, trebled, quadrupled; and at fifty years
of age he finds himself at the head of a large and thriv-
ing establishment, with formed habits of liberality and
expense. Suppose, then, that, on the occasion of some
sudden reverse (the failure of a correspondent, or a tem-
porary slackness of trade), an early friend were to come
and say to him, " How much happier you might have
been if you had been content to live like your forefathers,
eating and wearing the produce of your farm, and igno-
rant of the very existence of the superfluities and habits
of indulgence which have now become a second nature
to you. It is quite possible that a speech of this kind
might meet:with a querulous assent. But if the monitor
had all along encouraged and applauded the enter-
prising spirit of the merchant, and knew that the busi-
ness could not be wound up without an enormous sacri-
fice, or the risk of bankruptcy, with what face could he,
on the strength of a few bad debts or unsuccessful ven-
tures, re commend immediate retirement into the plain-
ness, mediocrity, and obscurity of pastoral life? Great
Britain is the hitherto, and (we trust) still, prosperous
merchant; her insolvent debtors are the Irish; and her
failing customers are the disturbed nations of the coati-

neat. Tha ten millions auek In Ireland are so inuah
British capital wasted, _so much withdrawn from the
standing fund for the eriplo) meet of British labs ur; and
a very serious deduction from the annual demand for
British manufactures. This effect ought never to be lost
sight of, when advances for the relief of the sister king-
doking-
domare proposed; particularly in the pre,ent very
critical condition of our own labour market, and
with a population pressing on the very verge of
penury. It may be necessary to make ouch sacrifices
on very rare emergencies, but let it not be forgotten
for a moment that they are sacrifices, and that, for
every Irish filthily kept from starving, an English or
Scotch family will infallibly be pinched. To illustrate
the effects of the revolutionary movements of the last
eight months, it is enough to point to France, which,
instead of taking three millions and a half of British
exports, as she did last year, will probably not take a
million during this. That such a decline, UT ising from
circumstances over which we have no control, aleo illus-
trates one of the known and admitted disadvantages of
ea eign commerce, is undeniable. But the most rebid
Prot( ctioidet—even Colonel Sibthoi p or Mr. Newilee ate
—would not propose that we should give up French
wines es well us French silks, and be literally self-de-
pendant; and a little calm reflection will convince any
man open to conviction, that Greet Britain cannot break
off or materially lessen her commercial iclations, with-
out deeceuding rapidly in the scale of greatness, and
(what is worse) without passing through a series of ap-
palling struggles in her descerit. What is to Income of
the workinen and mechanics who are employed
in preparing our sixty millions of export,, if
we give up the notion of continuing an ex-
porting nation—which, by the way, we were essentially
long before Sir Robert Peel and his colleagues in-
curred the censure of that enlightened, unassuming,
and candid section of the Conservative party who
fight under the banners of Lord Stanley and Lord
George Bentinck. The great and characteristic merit of
Sir Robert Peel's statesmanship is to discover the pre-
cise wants and tendencies of the period, and adapt his
measures to them. He saw that the country was ripe
for an onward movement, and he made it; but it would
have been made not long afterwards whether he had
promoted or resisted it. It is a perfect chimera to sup.
pose that the corn-laws, or any class interest, could be
permanently upheld against the convictions of nine-
tenths of the most intelligent men of the day ; and, for
the same reason, the Protectionists may rest assured that
the knell of the ;navigation-laws has sounded. Far from
admitting that the measures of the last Conservative Ad-
ministration have failed, we believe them to have been
eminently successful, and most felicitously timed.
In fact, it is perfectly idle and paradoxical to contend
that the removal or reduction of import duties on arti-
cles of food, in times of scarcity, has done harm; and if
on the one hand the extravagant promises of Mr. Mac-
gregor have not been realised, let it be remembered, on
the other, that the equally extravagant alarms of the
protection prophets have proved false. These cannot
deny that, if losses have been incurred in any branch of
industry since the crowning act of Sir Robert Peet's
alleged apostacy, they are not of the kind anticipated.
Neither farmers nor landlords have been ruined whole-
sale, and it would be difficult to persuade the unem-
ployed workmen of Nottingham or Bradford that
their want of work arises from the admission of
American breadstuffs or French cattle. It is obviously
for the advantage of the manufacturing class, at any rate,
that we should exchange manufactured goods for food,
instead of growing it; and our best course, as regards
them (the chief sufferers from late events), evidently is,
to secure the largest possible vent for their commodities.
The United States take more than eight millions worth
of British goods per annum; more than is taken by the
whole of our colonies put together, exclusive of the East
Indies; and they are ready to take more so soon as we
are prepared to meet them on a perfect footing of mutual
confidence and reciprocity. We repeat, therefore, confi-
dently and advisedly, that sound policy requires us to
proceed steadily in the track indicated by Mr. Pitt,
opened by Mr. lluskisson, and trodden with unfaltering
firmness, and in an almost unparalleled spirit of stlf-ia-
crifice, by Sir Robert Peel.