The Sun.
London, England, 1850-04-23 00:00:00

APRIL 23, 1850.

ment. dated Novenabze. 30, 1849, with which we have
been from the Ordnance Office, will be read with some
interest:—
A memorandum states that all steamers having pad-
dle- box boats of 9 feet 4 inches beam (as they are ca-
pable cf carrying 24-pounder howitzers) are to be supplied
with the armament marked Class No. 1.
First-Class Boats—Fifth-rate paddle steamers, having
two boats capable of carrying ordnance, beside the paddle-
box boats—total, 5 pieces of ordnance, viz.:—
Two 24-pounder howitzer,,, 13 ca-t., for the paddle-box
boats with top and under carriages ; one 12-pounder
howitzer, 61- cwt. (light), for the barge, with top and
under carriages; one ditto for the pinnace, with field,
top and under carriages, one 6-pounder gun, 6 cwt.,
for short practice, &c., from the ship or boats, with
top and under carriages.
Second Class Boats-sth and 6th rate paddle steamers
and steam-sloops, having one boat capable of carrying
ordnance besides the paddle-box boats, 9 feet 4 inches
beam—total, 4 pieces of ordnance, viz.:—
Two 24-pounder howitz-rs, as for first class; one 12-
pounder howitzer, 61 cwt. (light), for the pinnace, with
field, top and under carriages; one 6-pounder gun as
for first class.
Third Class Boats—All steamers having paddle-box
boats incapable of carrying 24-pounders, but capable of
carrying heavy 12-pounders—total, 4 pieces of ord-
rance, viz.:—
Two 12-pounder howitzers, 10 cwt. (heavy) far the pad-
dle-box boats, with top and under carriages. One 12-
pounder howitzer, 61- ewt. (light), for the pinnace.
with field, tap and under carriages. One 6-pounder
gun as for Ist and 2d class.
Fourth Class Boats—lf, atter actual trial and official
report, the paddle-box boats of any steamer should be
found incapable of carrying 24-pounders, or heavy 12 -
pounders, light 12-pounder howitzers are to be supplied
—total, 4 pieces of ordnance:—
Two 12-pounder howitzers, 61 cwt. (light), for the pad-
box boats, with top and under carriages. One 12-
pounder howitzer 6i cwt. (light), for the pinnace,lwith
field, top, and under carriages. One 6-pounder gun as
for the previous classes.
Fifth Class Boats—When steam-sloops or gun-vessels
have no other boat capable of carrying ordnance beside
the paddle-box boats, then 3 pieces of ordnance as fol-

low:—
Two 12-pounder howitzers 10 cwt. (heavy), for the
paddle-box boats, with top and under carriages; one 6-
pounder gun, 6 cwt., as a field piece and for short prac-
tice, &c., from the ship or boats, with field„top, and

under carriages. •
Sixth Class Boats—When steam sloops or gun-vessels
have no other boat capable of carrying ordnance beside
the paddle-box boats, and those are unable to take the
heavy 12-pounders—total, 3 pieces of ordnance as
follows:—
Two 12-pounders howitzers, 6i cwt. (light), for the
paddle-box boats, with one field,;two top, and two under
carriages; one 6-pounder.gun, as for the Ist, 2d, 3d,
and 4th classes.

THE COMING OF SPRING—APRIL.
(From Eliza Cook's Journal)
Again the Spring, shedding soft dews from her
ethereal wings, sweeps over the earth, once more made
beautiful. The skirts of the departing winter have dis-
appeared, and already in fancy we feel the warm breath
of summer is our face. The earth is putting on her
garment of green; the meadows are thick with the
bright young grass—that perfect mark of the beautiful
season; the trees, the bushes, and the hedgerows, are
spreading out their crisp fans of foliage; buds are leap-
ing into flowers, which start up along the footpath!, to
beautify the feet of the wayfarer; and; colours, gay and
brilliant, everywhere coming out from the winter cham-
bers, in which they have been sleeping, towards the glad
light of the sun, which looks down upon them from a
sky of blue, wooing them forth to meet him.
The mornings are now clear, fresh, and joyous. Night
melts suddenly into day, and the stars wane gladly be-
fore the light of the sun, as he comes dancing up the
east, driving the fleecy clouds before him; all things
seeming to rejoice in the innocent brightness of the new-
born day. And towards evening, as the sun goes down
and the glowing clouds linger about his setting—when
the day's purple eye is closing with the flowers of the
spring—and the God-built sky, rising like a mighty
dome, is sparkling with its millions of stars—the gems
set by the Creator in the hour of night; then does a
silence seem to steal over the earth—a slumber so pro-
found, so deep, so vast, that—
" Even the motion of an angel's wing
Would interrupt the intense tranquillity
Of silent hills, and more than silent sky."
The great charm of Spring is in its sunshine—whether
as glinting down through the branches of lofty trees,
whose leaves are still young and fresh, or peeping in'o
the cool grots and caverns of the earth, or creeping in at
latticed windows through a framework of roses and
drooping woodbine, or throwing its long line of beams
upon the waters, making them to dance and sparkle
with delight, or shedding its magical radiance over bill
and dale, over stream and meadow, which drink in the
pure flood of light. Beautiful sunshine! we can feel it
as it beams upon us, and shines along our path. The
lark flies up in the early morn to hail it, and makes the
heavens ring with her carol. It lays its glorious pencil
on the meadows, and straightway primroses and lady-
smocks, columbines and red peonies, violets and butter-
cups, come out to gild the season with their beauty.
Even the April shower cannot pass withcut reading its
beautiful lessen to us from the clouds. How finely does
that true lover of nature, Leigh Hunt,- remark—that
there is a moral as well as a material beauty in colour,
an inherent gladness, an intention on the part of nature
to share with us a pleasure felt by herself. Colours are
the smiles of nature. When they are extremely smiling,
and break forth into other beauty besides, they are her
laughs, as in the flowers.
The mind cf man is, in spring, more than at any
other season, disposed to be gay and happy. The heart
leaps with joy at the beautiful aspect of nature. The
sense of joy passes into the soul at every inlet of feel-
ing. Man can no longer be sad : to be so would be out
of harmony with nature—like a mourner at a marriage
festival. Spring brings youthful and pleasant associa-
tions with it—makes us to feel young, and live our early
thoughts over again ; and the same spirit lives through-
out universal nature, it turns all creation to love—love,
the universal feeling. To see the buds and leaves come
forth, like light into the world—to hear the small birds I
singing to their happy mates—to watch the curling
smoke rising up from a far-off valley—to view
the gnats, thin (lancers on the air, tripping
it on a merry sunbeam—to admire the silver-
tipped clouds as they fleet along in the vaulted
azure—to walk along some secluded field-path or green
lane, decked with primroses and wild flowers, starting
the hart from her seat, and the partridge from her nest;
what can he more delightful than such occupations of
leisure at this season, trivial though they may appear
to be.
Now do troops of little children in the country betake
themselves to the fields, and gather daisies and prim-
roses, the elders filling their baskets to prepare the old-
fashioned cowslip wine. Now do the followers of Isaac
Walton drag out their fishing-rods, baskets, and nets,
from the closet, and dress up " flies, in prepa-
ration for the first fine morning following a shower of
rain. Now do the lovers of country in towns bethink
themselves of a pic-nic in the woods, and the omnibus
or car is bespoken for the first fine day. But, ah, fickle
April! a shower of rain or sleet, following these bright
sunshiny: days, damps their hopes, and forbids their
too sanguine expectations. April resembles the lover—
the tears succeed the smiles, the clouds the sunshine, in
rapid alternation. But the rain passes, the wind abates,
the rainbow spans the heavens, and spring is in all her
beauty again.
The birds are now fast returning from warmer climes
to their summer-home in England. The swallow sits
twittering in the eaves, or skims the river and the lake
in the evening, catching its food or picking up from the
banks the bits of clay and straw with which it builds its
wonderful nest. The cuckoo now makes the woods re-
sound with his notes; and the yellow wag-tail, the red-
start, white-throat, wry-neck, and black-cap, have all
returned. The blackbird's mellow, flute-like voice rings
in the covert. Who so gay as the lark now, which
springs up to the heavens, singing its love and joy with
full-throated melody? The less musical rook caws
away among the lofty trees, on the topmost boughs of
which it builds its nest. The wren is busy forming its
house in the stump of a decayed tree; the sparrow is
already laying her eggs in her nest, which she has con-
structed in the thickest part of a high hedge; the bittern
sits in her seat among thick reeds and rushes; the owl
lies snug in the hollow of a ruined wall; while the lin-
net, a true lover of nature, has found a retreat in the
midst of a snug green copse.
Gaudy butterflies begin to appear, and excite the
chase of the happy children, who thus begin the sport
of life. Flowers are blooming everywhere, in the gar-
den, in the fields, on the waters. The water-hen sails
about among primrose-coloured water-flags, and water-
lilies in clusters, almost buried amid their large, shield-
shaped leaves. Early and late is the cottage gardener at
work among his flower-beds and his kitchen-stuffs. He
watches the growth of his star of Bethlehem, lady-
smock, and virgin's bower, with an almost paternal soli-
citude. He boasts of his violets and narcissuses, praises
his anemoniee and lady's slippers, as if they wears part
of his family. He has an eye, too, to " the substantials."
He watches the blossoming of the fruit trees, and gets in
his cabbages, peas, and early potatoes. His soul is full
of hope, he labours with joy, for the prospect of another
abundant harvest is before him.
The spring has in it a power, more than perhaps any
other season, of attracting man from the mere material
earth, to rise up to the enjoyment of the spiritual beauty
in which the earth has been created. Wo feel a longing
to be away from the stir and fret of the busy world.
There is a thirst to be among the field-paths, a wish to
have the wings of the bird, to fly far away from the
fever:sh hum of the city, to find refreshment with nature
in the silent woods, and under the shade of green and
over-arching trees, to muse and meditate till the spirit of
peace and love flows into our soul like a gale from
away, yo pent-up denizens of crowded
Heaven. Away,
cities! Go out among the spring haunts, and see how
the earth and the sky aro now bolding jubilee. There
you .will observe the evidences of the perpetual youth
and beauty of creation; your hearts will be awakened to
a sense of deep joy, and your minds influenced for years
to come by a holy communion with nature.

CAPT. itIFLE RANG ERS." —Of this new
military work, the .1-Iritannia observes—" Since Mr. Bux-
ton's vivid scenes of adventure in Mexico, we have not met
with a work of such exciting interest as these adventures of
Captain Reid. The pictpicturesquescmery of the wild luxuri-
ous country in which his solaier's duties lay, the thousand
peculiarities of character, custom, and costumes of its inha-
bitants, his own personal experience of pleasure and danger,
as well as the stirring incidents of many of his comrades'
lives, are all worked into a tale replete with incident and
interest."
Baron de Menneval, formerly private secretary of
the Emperor Napoleon died at Paris on Friday evening, in
the 73d YOE 9f h Atie.

LITERATURE.
THE MARTYRS OF CARTHAGE.
Mrs. Webb. 2 Vols.

In perusing Mrs. Webb's very beautiful story of
" Julamerk," we regretted that her admirable quali-
fications for rendering a religious narrative attrac-
tive from its fictitious incidents, and valuable from its
serious reflections—qualifications which she possesses
in no mean degree—should have been devoted to the
commemoration of a particular sect (the Nestorian*
instead of relating to Christianity as a whole. The
theme of the volumes above-mentioned is more hap-
pily chosen. It is indeed a theme which must always
possess an especial attraction for Christians, for it re-
lates to the trials and triumphs of the early believers
and martyrs of our faith. Not only has Mrs. ,
Webb been felicitous in the selection of her subject,
but she has treated it with considerable skill,
and augmented, by her beautiful development,
its necessary fascination. The heroines of the
story are Vivia Perpetua and her friend,
Marcella, the daughter of Numerian, a Christian
minister. By the intervention of Marcella, Vivia be-
comes a Christian, while her husband, Marcus, a
young Roman officer, is absent in the service of the
Emperor. On his return an explanation necessarily
ensues. The heathen husband, although tenderly at-
tached to Vivia, is inexorable—she must renounce her
new faith, or she can no longer be his wife. The
young Christian is exposed to a worse torture than
that of martyrdom, but the love of heaven prevails
over the love of earth, and after a long separation
Vivia is rewarded for her sufferings by her re-union
with her, now, Christian husband. Their happiness
is not of long duration ; both ultimately attest their
faith with their lives, and obtain the crown of
martyrdom. This brief sketch is enough to show
the very interesting materials of the story. In addi-
tion to the interest attached to the history of Vivia,
the characters and adventures of her brothers, Julius
and Octavius (the lover of Marcella), of her parents,
of the time-serving and vindictive father of Marcus,
and the other Christians and heathens introduced in
the narrative, are all described and developed in a
very skilful and attractive manner. Very seldom have
we occasion to bestow such a cordial commendation
upon a new work, as we may very safely bestow upon
this most excellent and most beautiful story of the
" Martyrs of Carthage."

THE LIFE OF BARBARA HOFLAND.
Few kinds of literature are so attractive and so
useful as biography. Mirrored in the portraiture of
another, each reader may find, in some degree at
least, his own feelings and his own failings—happy if
he learn from the contemplation how to command the
one and correct the other. Mrs. Hofland is well
known, and generally esteemed as a writer ; by the
readers of this book she will not only be known, but
esteemed and loved as an individual. Left a widow
at an early age, almost wholly unprovided for, and
charged with the care of an infant son, her patience,
her fortitude, and her unwearying industry are worthy
of admiration and imitation. Not only by the labours
of her pen was she enabled to mainta►n herself
and her child, but by the excellent principles incul-
cated in her writings she was happily the means of
doing much public good, more especially to the young
generation of her day. Her industry was thus twice
blessed, and she had the happiness of seeing her son
an able and excellent minister of the Church. Such
are the most interesting features of the history of
Mrs. Hofland. To those who feel an interest in '' the
proper study of mankind" we recommend this de-
lightful biography : written in a simple but most at-
tractive manner, the many trials, the arduous exer-
tions, the hopes, fears, sufferings, and successes of an
excellent woman are here very admirably set forth.

A PIIYSICIAN' S HOLIDAY; or, a Illonth
in Switzerland, &v., e.c. By John Forbes, M.D.,
F.R.S.
We are glad to find, and for many reasons, that
this work has reached a second edition, and feel dis-
posed to congratulate the public (and above all that
large proportion of the public who like and counte-
nance travelling) upon the prospect of its becoming,
what we never doubted it would be one day, a gene-
ral favourite, and most deservedly so. A more use-
ful and entertaining guide we never chanced to see,
and can only say that we long to seek (the above-
named book under our arm as our guide and com-
panion) those highly interesting scenes which it so
ably describes ; not forgetful of our duty to the writer,
whose wise precepts we mean to treasure up with the
more willingness as they for the most part exactly
coincide with our ideas as regards travelling, and
whose experience, practical and otherwise, we
will gladly avail ourselves of, and whose very
mishaps, few and far between, it is true,
but always candidly admitted, shall be as a warning
to us, and a fair warning which we shall be far from
treating slightly. To those who may be now, or
hereafter intending to visit the land of the picturesque,
and who, with a short time to dispose of, are inclined
to make the most and the best of it, we say take with
you the " Physician's Holiday," and be sure that you
will benefit yourselves in a variety of ways. You will
find in it not merely the recommendations of a true lover
of the beauties of nature, but such liberal-minded direc-
tions as will insure you every advantage to be derived
from those great incentives to health—air, exercise,
diet—when judiciously and systematically courted.
There may, however, be some among our readers
who do not think of visiting those scenes and locali-
ties so vividly portrayed by the author, and to whom
the book might appear, as a guide, valueless—to
those we would recommend it as a well 'written,
amusing, descriptive work, which will supply a rich
fund of amusement for many an idle hour, and much
valuable information on subjects of deep importance—
a work, in short, which will be found incessantly
to pass
" From grave to gay, from lively to severe."
It is, moreover, calculated to remove many unfounded
prejudices • and we deem it to be one of the greatest
claims of the author to general sympathy and appro-
bation, that while alive to the positive faults and
demerits of men and things, he is lenient in his judg-
ments and just in his appreciation of whatever is fair
and good ; in other words, he is what education
should make us all, a citizen of the world, ever ready
to look upon his fellow-men as brothers, if their con-
duct entitle them to such consideration. To revert
again to the book itself, we would gladly impart to
others the gratification we have derived from
a perusal of its contents ; but here we are
confessedly at a loss, for, in a work so decidedly
consecutive as this is, how can: we select a part,
sufficiently episodical, not to suffer from the very cir-
cumstance of its being picked out ? Start-
ing, as we like to fancy ourselves, with the
writer, from the shores of England, and really landed
on the opposite coast, how can we help following the
well-directed course he has adopted to effect his ob-
ject, and stop, while he proceeds. We feel
with him, that our time is short, and must be
turned to good account; on, therefore, we go, and
crossing rapidly the intervening countries, Belgium,
Germany, &c., not, however, without duly appre-
ciating the beauties we view in our onward course,
we reach the Vosges Mountains, and first set foot on
Swiss ground. Much has already been seen, said, done,
to fix the attention, but we must on. We have hardly
started on our tour, with our knapsacks on our backs,
and nothing more in them than is strictly necessary to
men, whose wants are few, than we have the truth
of this precept impressed on our minds by a trifling
yet conclusive incident, proving—but here it is in the
author's own words :
" The day being hot, and the realms of ceremony
being far passed by (we are at Sakingen) some of our
party, after taking refreshment in the inn, very naturally
resorted to the fountain at its door, to make amends for
the absence of finger glasses within. One of our num-
ber availed himself of this luxury not only here but altso
a
village further on, Dogern by name, where we at
.ra-
stopped, and, being a wearer of rings—which no
yeller should be—ho laid them on the fountain brim,
and there left them ! The loss was not discovered until
we had advanced some miles on our journey beyond the
place of the last ablution, and then it could not be re-
collected at which of the two places the finery had been
left. Consequently, although the rings were of coml.
derable value, we made no retrograde step to recover
them, but contented ourselves with sending dispatches
to the innkeepers of the respective villages from the
small town of Thiengen, where we dined. But the ring-
bearing ring-loser, as might have been expected, heard
no more of bis property."
Had we time we might take this as a fair text, and
moralize ad infinitum, but we must on. Fair as the
temptation afforded us by the admirable description
of the great Rhine Falls at Schaffausen, we must re-
frain from inserting it, chiefly for this reason, such
descriptions being nearly as plentiful in the work
before us as the scenes we wend our way through.
Once entering on the path of extracts, we might
transcribe the whole, or be guilty of injustice, and the
views from the Riga, and many others which fol-
low in rapid succession, demand our immediate at-
tention ; not so exclusively, however, but that
we are right pleased to follow our guide in his devia-
tions from the tourist's path into the regions of
metaphysics, and admire his benevolent philosophy.
As an instance of which, we would advert
to his remarks on Conrad Escher, and the
dignified reward conferred on him by his
grateful fellow-citizens, page 76, &c. Again, as a
specimen of the writer's happy mode of bordering
upon the facetious without derogating from the dig-
nity of the man of taste, we would quote the follow-
ing (page 89) : •
We started on our return to Chur in one of the long
narrow chairs of the country, drawn by one horse,.hainchd
without springs, except the leather substitutesby
the seat is suspended. For this we paid twelve francs.
Oar horse turned out to be good, and our driver
. so
have
better.
At least, in all my experience, I never met wash
lute and fearless a charioteer. The road, as 4
we
seen, is all down hill from Tunis to Reich.bevautu d.;own t steeply
down hill indeed, and full of turnings ;
_he
steepest pitches, and round the sharpest angles, On we
went at full trot and full swing, as if there had never been
such an event as ovally& or such things as