The Sun.
London, England, 1851-01-03 00:00:00

DEATH BY CHARCOAL.

The day before yesterday (says the Gazette des Tr
bunaux) the inhabitants of a house in the Faubourg
St. Germain were alarmed by a strong smell of burn-
ing charcoal proceeding from a room occupied by
aM. de C—. The Commissary of Police hav-
ing been sent for, had the door broken open,
when M. de C— was found as if engaged
in writing. He was seated in an armchair,
before a table, on which were books and papers ; his
head was slightly bent down on his breast, and he
still held a pen between the fingers of the left hand.
M. de C-- was about 30, possessed a considerable
fortune, and occupied himself in literary pursuits.
The following writing was found on the table :
" Lara about to die—to die while writing. It is mid-
night—the fatal hour, to use the language of romace
writers. I hear the charcoal crackling, and I shall
continue writing until the shades of death veil my
sight. It is in the full possession of my faculties that,
without any cause but my own pleasure, I commit
suicide. I feel my ideas flowing, and I shall give free
scope to them. Yesterday I was walking in the Bou-
levards smoking, I think a cigar. I saw a crowd of
passers by, without fixing my looks on one person more
than another. I must have appeared very deeply ab-
sorbed in thought to all those whom chance or idleness
threw into my way, and nevertheless to ides, no
feeling, occupied my mind. These fits of total absence
of mind frequently happen to me, and they are not, I
assure you, my happiest moments. I was suddenly
arrested in my walk by a friend of my youth, who
told me that a great misfortune had happened to him.
He commenced the recital of it, when the soft mur-
murs of a running stream which flowed at our feet
threw me insensibly into a reverie. I was :seated at
the foot of a tuft of tre,s, the thick foliage of which
protected me from the sun, and in my rspid couse
on the vigorous steed which my well-beloved had
presented me with, I flew as far as the camp of the
Arabs, thinking to sow there affright and death. I
was well received, and, what is very surprising, I was
not at all astonished at it. 1 jumped lightly off—l
feel an insupportable smell of charcoal—l jumped off, I
say, like a young fawn, to take part in their repast I
had the greatest difficulty in the world to make my left-
band neighbour, who was a retired grocer, under-
stated that, having paid for my place at the bureau, I
had as much right as he had to express my opinion—
I breathe with difficulty, I accustom myself to the
smell of charcoal—the quarrel between the grocer and
me became warm, and I was at length compelled to
put up my umbrella to protect the hat of my wife,
for the rain fell in torrents. My head becomes
heavy—l feel some dimness. At length this scene
of carnage was transformed into a race in the Champ
de Mars. I considered that it would be impossible
for me—l am suffering—and then the water was
transparent, and our umbrella was unable to resist it,
and that is why we determined to go and dine in the
Palais Royal—my dimnesss increase—my respiration
is stopped—l can scarcely see to write."—(At this
point the writing of M. de C— is scarcely is scarcely
legible.) " I think the hour advances—my strength
—J. M." It is presumed that the writing of this
paper, which betrays such evidence of insanity and
delirtum, occupied about three quarters of an hour."

THE POPISH AGGRESSION AND ITS RESULTS,
TOGETHER WITH THE MINISTER' AL CRISIS
OF APRIL, 1851.
(G. T. F. SMITH'S PREDICTIONS.)
The broils, commotion, tumult, burning of effigies, dis-
astrous excitement and peril, never perhaps became more
universal in this country than the present period evinces,
cud all within one short month verging upon the year
1851—the year in which the matured results remain to
be determined.

I would briefly rc fer to the prediction of the above
scenes, as published in the second edition of her Mojesty's
Horoscope in the }ear 1848. The prediction is dated
from the commencement and holds to the Autumn of 1851,
as loilowa: