The Sun.
London, England, 1861-10-05 00:00:00

EMANCIPATION..

A SONNET TO AMERICA.
Half-hearted, double-minded, nerveless, aimless I
Thou can'st not conquer in this strife, until
Thou hast achieved High Judgment's awful will ;
Then, shalt thou quell Rebellion fierce and shameless :
There is one only way; one generalship :
Three million bloodhounds baying in its rear
Must check the front of insurrection here :
Let Justice triumph; give that leash the slip;
And thus, by their own crimes, thyself being blameless;
Thou shalt smite down the guilty, thigh and hip :
Let loose the slaves I bid but that word go forth,
And, by their freedom writ in blood and fire,
This mad Rebellion must perforce expire,
And the crusht South come truckling to the North.
MARTIN F. TUPPER.

The Princess Mary of Solms (nee Bonaparte) has
just died at Baden Baden, at the age of 27, of inflammation
of the brain, from which she bad suffered for a month. The
princess had not long returned from France.
FIFTY YEARS SINCE.—HaIf a century ago all the
great capitals of Europe, although then not half their pre-
sent size, were dangerous residences to their honest inhabi-
tants, and unmanageable in regard to police supervision,
owing to the difficulty of obtaining sufficient artificial light
during the long dark nights of winter. The growth of
population that has since taken place, and the development
of the resources of our own and other countries, would pro-
bably have been impossible without the discovery and rapid
introduction of some means of economically and effectually
lighting the streets and alleys, which had long served as
the haunts of thieves and dangerous characters of all kinds.
It is not too much to say that, in this matter alone, the
introduction of artificial light has been the main agent
employed in effecting a social improvement, compared with
which all others are secondary. The millions of cubic feet
of gas now burnt nightly in our streets are, beyond compari-
son, the best, the most permanent, and the least expensive
source of security that could have been introduced, and
have served, more than anything else, to check those deeds
of wrong and violence that darkness cannot fail to shelter,
and invariably fosters.—Popular Science Review.
The rioting at theatres when Italian singers first
attempted operas in London, in its violence, and its success
in banishing them for a time, might excite our doubt of its
truth, could we not remember similar scenes enacted a few
years ago when a company of French actors intended to
occupy Drury-lane. In the end, musical art triumphed;
but victory was not won without the battle. It was chiefly
due to individual energy, and that of the humblest class,
that concerts became fashionable and regularly estab•
lished in London. The first meeting deserving the
name was held in a remote part of the town, unfit for genteel
resort, and,when reached,deficientin proper accommodation.
"It was in the dwelling of Thomas Briton—one who gained
his livelihood by selling about the streets small-coal,
which he carried on his back—that a periodical perform-
ance of music took place, to which were invited people of
the first consequence. The house was in Aylesbury-street
Clerkenwell ; the room of performance was over the coal-
shop ; and, strange to tell! Tom Briton's concert was the
weekly resort of the old, the young, the gay, and the fair of
all ranks, including the highest order of nobility."—St.
James's Magazine.
THE FLITTING OF THE Sow.—The Laird of
Bargainy resolved to humiliate his neighbour and enemy
the Laird of Kerse, by a forcible occupation of a part of
his territory. For the purpose of making this aggression
flagrantly insulting, it was done by tethering or staking
a sow or female pig on the lands of Kerse. The animal was
of course attended by a sufficient body of armed men for
her protection. It was necessary for his honour that Kerse
should drive the animal and her attendants away, and
hence came a bloody battle about the flitting of the sow.
In the contest Kerse's eldest son and hope, Jock, is killed,
and the point or moral of the narrative is the contempt
with which the old laird looks on that event, as compared
with the grave affair of flitting the sow. A retainer who
comes to tell him the resnit of the battle stammers in his
narrative on account of his grief for Jock, and is thus
pulled up by the
Is the sow flitted ?' cries the eerie,
' Gie me my answer, short and plain--
Ts the sow flitted, yammering wean ?'
To which the answer is—
The sow, deil tak her, 's ower the water,
And at their back the Crawfords clatter;
The Carrick touts are cowed and bitted.'
Hereupon the laird's exultation breaks forth—
' My thumb for Jock—the sow's flitted.' "
—Blackwood's Magazine.
FOX-HUNTING EXTRAORDINARY.—A few days
since the Hon. G. W. Fitzwilliam's hounds were out.
They found at Mucklands, and reynard took across Castor-
field to Mr. White's grounds, at Castor. Here he got over
a high wall into that gentleman's shrubberies, which, by
his kind permission, were at once drawn, but without effect,
and George Carter, the huntsman, seeing Mr. White's
kitchen door open went in, and, having borrowed a candle,
found a fine cub " earthed" behind a quantity of bottles in
the cellar. George at once called his hounds, and down
rushed a number of young dogs and rather unceremoniously
knocked George (who had hold of the fox with one hand
and the candlestick in the other) completely over
out the candle and leaving filo= au in the, dark. To com-
plete the confusion, the girl, hearing a great noise and be-
coming frightened, locked the door, and shut the huntsman
with his hounds in full cry after the fox down in the dark
cellar without any means of exit. After some persuasion
the girl was induced to open the door, and up came George,
the hounds, and the fox, the two former none the worse for
their singular run, but poor raynard quite out of breath—
in fact defunct.—Stamford Mercury.
THE SUBLIME AND THE RlDlCULOUS.—lndepen-
dent of motives of humanity, we are glad that the end of
the Union seems more likely to be ridiculous than terrible.
To the American people we wish nothing but good. But
for our own benefit and the instruction of the world we wish
to see the faults, so specious and so fatal, of their political
system, exposed in the most effective way. The faults of a
system that expires nobly and pathetically are apt to be
forgotten in the romance of its end. Had the Union died
silent, resolute, devoted, grand, in future ages republican
poets and painters might have loved to depict Freedom
shrieking at the scene, as she did when Kosciusko fell. But
it is impossible to conceive that anything great or noble was
involved in the catastrophe of the grand army of the Po-
tomac, that the muse of history will seriously concern her-
self even with the Fire Zcuaves, or that any poet or
painter, whether American or European, will ever depict
Liberty as quitting the earth arm-in-arm with the last of
the Presidents. And the venerable Lincoln, the respect-
able Seward, the raving editors, the gibbering mob, end the
swift-footed warriors of Bull's Run, are no malicious tricks
of fortune played off on an unwary nation, but are all of
them the legitimate offspring of the great Republic.—Black.
wood's Magazine.
CATCHING SEA BIRDS.—The bird catchers of St.
Kilda frequently risk their lives in following the fulmar.
Two of them, provided with long ropes, proceed to the edge
of a crag. One of them fastens the strongest cord under
his arms, and holding the end of the other in his hand, is
lowered from the rock. His companion stands a little dis-
tance from the edge, holding the rope, which is fastened
round his waist tightly with both hands, while he allows
the signal end to slip away under his foot. So soon as the
fowler reaches a slope covered with fulmars, he collects his

harvest—ho picks up eggs and young, and kills the old

birds with a short stick, Or catches them with a noose fas:
tened to the end of a switch. He then fastens the birds

together, and seeks a new colony; till at length, richly
laden, he gives the signal to be pulled up. The skill of
these island cragsmen is astounding. The smallest surface

is sufficient for them to stand on ; and they crawl on hands
and knees, when loaded with birds, along the narrowest

ledges of rock. Their strength is so great that if the fowler

who has been let down makes a false step, and falls the
whole length of the rope into the abyss, his comrade saves
him and himself by his obstinate resistance. Such strength
reminds us of the heroic age. But even more wonderful
stories are told. One morning a fowler went out alone.
After fastening his cord round a rock, he let himself down
till he reached the stop where he hoped to have a good day's
work. By cleverly using his feet to swing himself from the
crag, he managed to reach the spot, but neglected to fasten
the rope round his body. While collecting the birds it

slipped from his hinds, oscillated a few times, but at last
hung motionless from six to eight feet from his hand. For

a moment the cragsman stood in mute horror, almost
robbed of his senses by the sudden awfulness of his posi-
tion. And it was, in truth, frightful ; the rock above him

was steep as a wall—the sea below was filled with jagged
rocks—there was no chance that, at the depth he was, his
voice could reach the ears of his fellow -men. There was
only one thing left him—a frightful leap might enable him
to seize the rope and save himself. If he missed death was
certain, but better so than to die of starvation on the crag.
He therefore formed a brave resolution, muttered a short
fervent prayer, collected all his strength, and sprang into
the vacuum. He lived to tell the deed, for he succeeded
in clutching the rope, and returning to his family.—Six-
penny Magazine.

Towards travellers who are not Turks the Monte-
negrins are always friendly. They rejoice to show kind-
ness to strangers. When Sir Gardner Wilkinson was jour-
neying in the interior, the poor ran out to meet him as he
passed, bearing little presents of fruit, or whatever else they
possessed and always refusing remuneration. On one
occasion, when he offered money, he was met by the re -
buke, "This is to welcome you; we are at home ; you are a
stranger. If we had known you would offer to pay us, we
would not have brought it." They have, however, two
modes of welcoming which did not quite please the traveller.
They show their pleasure by firing volleys of powder and
shot towards the visitor as he approaches ; and when ex-
postUlated with, as being likely to cause his death,
they answer that life and death are in God's hands,
and that no act of theirs can bring about a man's
end a moment sooner or later than is decreed. The
second objectionable feature is, that when the guest enters
the house, he has to kiss every man on the mouth, while the
welcomer lips of the fair sex are only applied to his hands-
Who will not sympathise with Sir Gardner when he laments
this barbarous invergs of the proprietivar--Onee a 117°*9