The Sun.
London, England, 1841-01-02 00:00:00

TAI7'S MAGAZINE.

Miss Martineau's late romance, " The Hour and
the Man," wherein she has shadowed forth the
destinies of that extraordinary neglo soldier and
statesman, Toussaint L'Ouverture, forms the sub-
ject of one of those sensible critical notices for which
Tait has always been celebrated. The Reviewer
justly condemns Napoleon for his conduct towards
this illustrious black chief,who achieved the independ-
ence of St. Domingo, in the face of a thousand diffi-
culties ; but the condemnation might have been
more severe, and still not have been more so than

the circumstances of the case warranted. Tous-
saint was secretly murdered in a remote Swiss pri-
son by the express orders of the First Consul, for
no other reason than that he was an inflexible, dis-
interested, high-souled patriot, whose example
might in time have become dangerous to the system
of despotism which it was sought to establish in
France. Dazzled by the splendour of his renown,
we have long held the character of Napoleon
in admiration ; and it is not without reluctance,
therefore, that we have lately been brought to the
conviction that it is one which will not bear too
close an investigation, It shows to the greatest
advantage at a distance. With many great and
good qualities, the French Emperor combined
abundant paltry ones ; he was jealous, heartless,
and vindictive ; and when we desire to think as

highly of him as we once did, truth stands between
us and our admiration; and we scarcely acknowledge
even the long dreary imprisonment of St. Helena,
to be a sufficient retribution for the murders of the
heroic Hofer, and the still more heroic deliverer
of St. Domingo. " France, England, and the Pal-
merston Policy," takes the people to task for not
being sufficiently alive to the rumours of impending
war. Why should we be ? Surely the pompous
vapourings of M. Thiers are not such as should
throw us into convulsions We are content tran-
quilly to bide our time, prepared for war, should
war take place, but by no means anxious to pro-
voke it. We consider the present calm attitude of
England to be, not the result of indifference, but
the repose of a giant conscious of his strength, and
careless, therefore, of making a premature parade of
it. The " Biographical Sketch of Beethoven" is an
article which will give infinite delight to all readers
of musical tastes. " Violet Hamilton" runs its
course rejoicingly. We subjoin a specimen of our
friend Tait's poetics :

Old year, good by ! with bumpers glowing,
Around the couch of death we stand !
Thy coming once, as now thy going,
We chanted, joining hand in band !
In draughts of punch we welcomed thee,
And, pledging, sang Crambambuli !
;Crambimbambuli, &c.
Faithfully through thy short life by thee,
Warm-hearted Burschen, firm we stood ;
Nor in thy hour of death will fly thee,
Although thou wort not over-good.
But still thou gav'st some moments bright,
For which here's thanks in punch tonight !
True Crambimbambuli, &c.
Sometimes our hearts did nearly fail us,
You let such jilts upon them seize!
Sometimes an empty purse did quail us,
No cash to pay for our degrees !
But now 'tis ever, we'll forget,
Nor for such fleeting sorrows fret!
But drink Crambambuli, &c.
Freely we grant thou host had troubles
To bother the cabroad, at home !
British fl ire-ups and Yankee bubbles,
The Kirk, too, in a froth and foam !
And monarchs at their ancient tricks,—
Egyptians blowing up like bricks!
Without Crambambuli, &e.
But, go ! for here comes thy successor !
Shout out, ye Burschen ! shout out, Mail!
For our Princess, new-born (Gad bless her !)
Of candle see he brings a pail !
But ammunition for the kings,
And grog for us he also brings!
The true Crambambuli, &c,
New year, come on !—we gladly hail thee,
Our glasses lifted up on high ;
Nor shall our cheers a moment fail thee,
If with good luck our fates you ply :
Be good to us, and we will be
As kind, as fond, as true to thee !
With Crambimbambuli, &c.
Bring out life's bowl to brew the measure,
New Year! which thou for us bast planned ;
Pour in the spirit strong of pleasure,
With wisdom's water make it bland,—
Love's lemon with joy's sugar link,
The punch is made—we drink ! we drink !
This grand Crambambuli, &c.