The Sun.
London, England, 1845-03-03 00:00:00

DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE.

The contents of the present Number of this Maga-
zine are of a very varied and amusing character. It
open, with a quaint and amusing tale of "The Train
fur the Overland," by Tilbury Trump, Queen's Mes-
senger. We then have a notice of Baron de Bode's
Travels in Luristan and Arabistan, and then a
student's reminiscences of the "Quartier Latin," from
the pen of one who evidently thoroughly understands
the French people. We believe that in the following
passage the writer has explained the true cause of the
instability of all Governments in France, and the
secret of that constant yearning for change which is
the bane of the French people :

" Youth compressed, will burst like the boiler of a
steam engine. Youth has no vent in France, it accu-
mulates an avalanche of dezpised dimensions—of legiti-
mate and restless ambitions • it contracts few marriages,
families know not what to do with their children. What
may be the real storm that shall move these masses I
know not; but they will inevitably precipitate themselves
upon the existing order of things, and overwhelm it.
Louis XIV., Napoleon, England, were and are covetous
of intelligent youth In France, youth is condemned
by the new code; by the evil conditions of the election
principle—by the vices of the ministerial constitution.
In examining the construction of the elective chamber,
you see there no deputy of thirty; the youth of Riche
lieu aid that of Mazarin, the youth of Turenne and that
of Colbert, the youth of Pit and that of Saint Just, that
of Napoleon and that of Prince Metternich, would find
no place there; Burke, Sheridan, or Fox, could not have
taken a seat in it. Political majority should have been
fixed at twenty-one years, and eligibility levelled to all
conditions, the departments should noettive elected any
but bona fide deputies, not persons without any political
talent, incapable of speaking without maiming gram-
mar, and amongst whom, during ten years,
_ there has
scarcely appeared a single statesman. At this moment
the whole body of youth is driven to become republican,
because it desires to see in rvpublicani&m its emancipa-
tion. It recals young representatives of the people, and
young generals !"
This is succeeded by a continuation of the series of
articles on W,bert Burns. A pilgrimage to Caldaro is
descriptive of a 'Visit to the celebrated E.qatica, Frau-
kin Morl, who exhibits the phenomena of what the
writer calls spontaneous clairvoyance. She is re-
garded by some of the pious and devout Catholics as
a prophetess, while, by others, it is considered that

: -

her
IV-TOND
st.‘e,,ised by Al 0 R'N
she is p‘,. a dr. vil. The following is the de-
appearance during her extacy.
ay breathing ; motionles, as if the
directing spirit Wad already fled from the pale and ema-
ciated frame ; °so/ :t in body, yet, to all appearance,
scription-g, ."(t'n of
absent in spirit, 4:Jd unconschmi of all around her; near
me, yet so far, 60 in: accessibly, unapproachably far from
me; like one entran cep?, caught up to Heaven, seeing
and hearing things /IL utterable; Maria Morl impressed
me, I will confess, rs I stood there, alone in her pre-
sence, with to clings which I have not words to convey.
Her large fun eye, so bright, yet so evidently fixed on
something be yond the range of sensuous vision, directed
upwards us in earnest though submissive entreaty, her
hands gently joined together before her breast; the small
red spot or scar visible on the back of the hand next me;
her ;lead thr min slightly back, and turned a little to the
right; her kair, of a bright brown, falling in wavy
masses over her shoulders, and descending almost to her
knees, her white bedgown and petticoat, so clean, so be-
coming, so sculpturally simple, her posit:on—in a word,
her w!:010 i,ppearance, suggested the statue of a wor-
shipping sir ,gel, or of a praying Samuel, chiselled by a
master's h 5 ad in toe marble of Carrara."
She was roused from her extacy by her confessor,
and welceped her visitor by a friendly nod, present-
ing him with a small coloured. print, which gave him
the opportunity of observing tbestigmata on her hands.
The writer also visited three other patients who were
labouring under the; same disease of Maria Mori,
and who are also considered by the peasantry as
being subject to supernatural influence. The writer
seems perfectly convinced that there is no trick or
collusion in the matter, and if there be not, these cases
are an additional con:irmation of the theory of self-
hypnotism recently broached by Mr. Braid. " The
late Mrs. James Gray," is a kind, :feeling, and just
tribute to the talents and virtues of one who was a
constant contributor to the pages -of this Magazine,
and who, as Mary Anne Brown,-had acquired a fame
as a poetess, which will be enduring. She died near
Cork, the 28th of January last

•
THE 0' DONOGHUE. By Harry Lorrequer. No. 3.
The Number of The 0 Donoghue for this month is
not either as carefully written, or as interesting as the
first or second. The author has fixed unon a time
distant by fifty years from the present.;_ but he is
continually falling into the mistake of applying
phraseology known only in times much more modern
to the Irish peasantry ; added to which he falls into
Lady Morgan 's ridiculous error of putting into the
mouths of his best characters an odd jumble of low
vulgarisms and polite and polished sentences. On
the whole, however, this work promises to be less ob-
jectionable to the generality of .:Irish readers than
either of the last two. But the author should re-
member that it is not because the Roman Catholic
religion is now held so cheaply in France, that the
incident contained in the subjoined extract, as having
occurred fifty years ago, is likely to be a whit more-
acceptable in the sister kingdom than was his libelous
portrait in the person of " Father Tom Loftus." In
the present Number he introduces a fire, a stranger,
and a smuggler. The first is a sore perplexer to the
victim—a recent settler from England. The second
of course has the usual amount of mystery wrapped
around him. And the third—but he speaks for him-
self in the following song and dialogue :
Thus saying, Flahault pushed back his chair a little
from the table, and in a rich deep bass voice, which rung
through the high rafters of the cabin, chanted out the
followin rude verses, to a French vaudeville air—
giving the final e of the French words, at the end of
each line, that peculiar accentuation of a—which made
the word sound conteabanda !

Though this information as to Captain Jacques'
performance zeerns of little moment, yet such was the
fact, that any spirit the doggrel possessed could only to
attributed to the manner of the singer, and the effect
produced by the intonation we have mentioned :

LA CONTRABANDE.
A bumper, " mes enfans," to swallow your care,
A full bumper, we pledge, " a fArlande ;"
The land of " belles femmes—le pays de bonne there,
Et to:ijours de la Contraloande.
Some like to make love, and some like to make war,
Some of beauty obey la commande ;"
But what is a glance from as eye, " bleu," or " noir,"
Except it be " la Contrabande."

When a prince takes the cash that a peasant can't spare,
And lets him lie down " sur la lande ;"
Call it, as you like—but the truth is, I swear,
" C'est bien pire que—la Contrabande."
Stolen kisses are ever the sweetest, we're told,
They sink like a " navire qui fende ;"
And what's true of a kiss, is the same, too, of gold,.
They're both, in their way, " Contrabande !" • •

When kings take your money, they won't even say,
" Mon atni le Die,u vous le rende ;"

While even the priest fora blessing takes pay. -
" C'est partout et toujours, Contrabande."
The good things of life are not equal, I'm sure,
Then how pleasant to make the " amende ;"
To take from the wealthy, and give to the poor,
" Voila ! que j'appelle, Contrabande."
Yet, as matters go, one must not ►teem it strange,
That even " La France et L'lrlande,"
If good wishes and friendship they simply exchange,
There are folks who call that " Contrabande."

" Five la Contrabande, Ines ands," shouted out Jacques,
as he arose, glass in hand, and made the room ring with
the toast. And every voice repeated the words, in such
imitations as they were able.

" "ris an elegant song, any way," said Lanty, " if one
only understood it all—and the tune's mighty like the
Cruiskeen Lawn.' "

" Well, Harr.‘," said Flahault, slapping his friend on
the shoulder, " will the song persuade you to turn
smuggler ? I fear not. You'd rather practise your own
Contrabande' amongst the bright eyes and the. dark
locks of the capital. Well, there are worse metiers.'
I hare had a turn at it these fifteen years, and whether
on the waters of Ontario, or Champlin, or scudding along
under the fog-banks of the Scheldt, I n,-ver grew weary
of it. But 1:ow for a little business talk—where is the
Padre ? where's Father Luke ? Was be not to have
been here to-night?"

Mary whi.speted the answer in the captain's ear.
" Ah ! parbleu," exclaimed he aloud—" is it so ?
Practisir.g a little ' Contrabande' of his own—trying to
see a poor fellow safe over the frontier, into the next
world. _

Captain Jacques," said Mary, with
pis hor p, e,
That,snot the way to talk of the holy
offices."
pious Fie
forr horror. p, ha

wish I had old Maurice Dulang here, the priest of
Trois Rivieres, he's the boy could despatch them without
trouble." _

Neither Lanty nor Mary gave any encouragement to
Flahault's new turn of the conversation, and so, address-
ing himself to Talbot, he went on—
.' We were dining together one day, at the little inn at
Trois Rivieres, when a messenger came from Lach6gon,
for the Pere to administer the last rites to a mourant.'
Maurice promised to be there in half-an-hour, but never
stirred—and though three other messengers came for
him, the answer was all the same—until, at last came
word, C'est trop lard, ii e‘t
Trop tard said Maurice, ' not a bit of it ; give
me a pen and ink, and some paper.' With that he folded
a piece, note fashion, and wrote—

" MON CIIER PIERRE—Fais ton petit possible pour
cet pauvre diable, qui s'est glisso hors du monde sans
mes coins. Apparement ii etait bien presse ; mais to
I'arrangera pour le mieux.
" Ton viol ami,
" MAURICE DULANG.,
" St. Pierre, Ila Conciergerie au Paradis.'
" Put that in his mouth," said Maurice, " and there's
no fear of him."

" Twas a blessed gospel he gave him," said Mary,
who did not comprehend the French portion of thestory,
" and sure it's as hood as anything."
"We all thought so, Mary. Poor Maurice related the,.
story at Lyons, when he was led out to the guillotine—but
though the Commissaire laughed heartily, and enjo)ed
it much, they had found a breviary in his portmanteau,
and they couldn't let him otf. Pauvre To travel
--

bout the world with the piece de conviction' in his
possPssion."

Though every book from the pen of "Harry
Lorrequer," is looked forward to with pleasurable
anticipations, and read with interest, yet it is ad-
mitted on all hands, that his style savours less of
originality than as an imitation of Maxwell ; and
hence the inapplicability of this st3le, however attrac-
tive and amusing in itself, to a story, characters, and
incidents half a century o.d; yet it must be admitted
that some of the dramatis personce are true to life,
particularly the O'Donoghue and Laxity.

THE ILLUMINATED MAGAZINE.
We have read) with much pleasure, this month's
portion of Craven's tale "Father-Land." The writer
has thrown more thought into it than usual, and it
touches lightly, but effectively, on several points of
our social system that might be altered with improve-
ment—among them, two things that affect the two
extremes of society, prison discipline, and the educa-
tion of our public schools and colleges. As to the
first, he points out a difference that ought not to exist,
as it gives the balance of advantage to the convicted
felon.
" How long will it be a fact, credited by civilized
Christian people, that in England the treatment of those
suspected of crime was cnce more penal and severe, than
after conviction had taken place ? That such is the ear-
n ing out of the law at the present moment is past per-
adventure, not alone in remote and ill-cared-for districts,
but in the heart of our great metropolis itself. The New
Prison, at Clerkenwell, is the place appointed for the
safe-keeping of persons charged upon wholly ex parte
statements, awaiting evidence being adduced against
them, the arrival of witnesses, or, in short, anything or
everything that shall make such a case as would warrant
their committal for trial. Millbank Prison is the recep-
tacle of the convicted felonry, awaiting conveyance be-
yond sea ; of the worst of transports—villains of every
conceivable grade of atrocity : murderers, who have had
the luck to come within the loosest interpetration of
manslaughter ; in short, of vagabonds, ninety per cent.
of whom would have been hung at the Old Bailey a
dozen years ags. And in what relation of comfort and
convenience do these two gaols stand towards each other?
The board and lodging of convicts under sentence, at
Millbank, bears such comparison with that of the accused
under suspicion at Clerkenwell, as the meqage of the Cla-
rendon ( oes to that of Marylebone workhouse. Why
does not some Member of Parliament, with bowels, call