The Sun.
London, England, 1844-03-01 00:00:00

of exarnining its priwisions;'-Wihonld support the nio-
Tiiicof the NOBreLOA:Ire: hiiit lseen much pleased to
hear the allusion of the Hon. -Baronet, the Member for
Sissex, to that great constitutional principle, that no
man's property should be' taken from him, and given to
another. He trusted that at a subsequent period of the
session, when the proprietorship of land was the subject
of discussion, the lion. Baronet Would keep that princi-
ple in view.

Colonel SIBTHORP withdrew his opposition to the
motion.

Leave was then given to bring in the BilL
At a subsegtient period of the evening Lord WORS-
LEY brought in the Lill, which was read a first time,
and ordered to be read a second time On Wednesday
week.

-
BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE.
Major Harris's late work on the highlands of
2Ethiopia forms the subject of a criticism or rather
essay, in this Number; the writer has skilfully ex-
tracted all the most relishing passages in the Major's
volumes, and produced a very readable article. Speak-
ing of the prospects of African disco Very, he tells us
that it is not likely that that great. continent will ever
be extensively explored, unless it be entered famtrthe
Abyssinian side. '" All attempts," he adds, "to enter
it by the western coast • have failed. The heat, the
swamps; the rank vegetation, and the Unhealthy at-
mosphere, have proved insurmountable barriers. The
north is fenced by a line of burning .Wildeineis. But
the east: is. open, free, fertile, and .beautiful." This
is a suggestion well worth being attended to, should a
taste for exploring ..kfrica:again find favour in the eyes
of our enterprising travellers. "A Word or Two of the
Opera-tive Classes ", furnishes us with some amusing
particulars respecting some of the mosteminent execu-
tioners and dancers—strange conjunction a=ofthe past
century; But singularly enough,. the. Writer makes
no.mention. of Samson, the expertest and politest ex-
ecutioner on record, who went through his trouble-
some dUties so :Scientifically that it. must haie been
quite a pleasure to have been guillotined by him.
There were three, we believe, of the name, but the
elder brother was the Samson. He. invariably made
a most deferential• obeisance to' his victims before
proceeding to business, and sometimes even offered
them a. pinch of snuff; ..but 10, .before .they had time
to sneeze, their heads were rolling in the basket ! If
a man is to ,be beheaded; it must be:a:great comfort
to him .to be beheaded by one who understands and
practices the gentilities. Speaking incidentally of
the fame acquired by opera-dancers, we are told that
it is often as " European,' nay, as universal," as, the
fame won by a Wellington, a Talleyrand, or a Met-
ternich. This is but too true, and what is worse, it
is a truth as old as the hills. As in past, so :present
times, the world neglects its instructors, and pays
court only to those who amuse it. A learned and
philosophic Coleridge dies in comparative neglect and
destitution, while a Taglioni lives in affluence, is
patronised 'by mighty Sovereigns, courted by rank
and fashion, and sees all her movements chronicled
from day to day, just as though she were a crowned
head! Truly, this is a great
,encouragement for
people to wear away life in the effort to instruct
their fellow-creatures ! " Belfront Castle" is an
agreeable tale, illustrative of some of the social enor-
mities of those days of chivalry which' Burke has
praised so highly. " Free Trade and Protection,"
contains a diverting theory or two. The Roman
empire, it seems, fell a victim to the destructive prin-
ciples of, free-trade! The mistress of the world
might have been alive to this day, had she been go-
verned by a monopoly Executive, with a Peel at its
head; but she chose to put faith in Cobden and Bright
councillors, and the consequence was, that' she went
off in a gallopping consumption. The irruption of
the Goths and Vandals, the luxury and recklessness
of her. patricians, and the slothful, degenerate habits
of the vast mass of her effeminate citizens—no longer
what they were under the Republic, or .the earlier
days of the empire—these combined circumstances
had nothing to do with the matter; Rome died of a
free-trade in corn ; and the inference which Blackwood
would 'wish to 'establish is this—that England will
die, too, if she wantonly exposes herself to the same
mortal malady. " A Roman Idyl" is a more chaste
and thoughtful pee* than is usually to be found in
magazines, and accordingly subjoin it :
friend,g with scoff unfeeling,
grief and wrong, •
OhT !
he blamegentl not,
ot ,
tale of
Which, all the pains of life revealing,
Yet teaches peace by thoughtful song.
The land Scape round us wide expanded
AS ere Was heard the name of Rome ; -
And.lteme, though fallen, our souls commanded,
In this her empires earliest home.
Her brightness beamed on each far mountain,
Her life made green the grass we trode,
Her memory haunted still the fountain,
And spread her shadows o'er the sod. •
Her ruins told their tale of glory,
Decreed to that eternal sky ;
And through that ancient grove, her story
With sibyl whisper, seemed to sigh.
The pile her wealthiest mourner builded,
In glimpse we caught through ilex gloom—
Metella's Tower, by sunshine gilded,
That beams alike on feast or tomb.
And on this plain, not yet benighted,
'Mid awful ages mouldering there,
Young hands in new-blown flowers delighted,
Young eyes look'd bright in sunniest air.
Till we, Viterbo's wine-cup quaffing,
Which fairer lips refused to grace,
Could win by jest those lips to laughing,
And veil'd in folly wisdom's face.
But say, my friend, thou sage mysterious,
What nymph, what muse disown'd the strait
Which bade our heedless mirth be serious,
And woke our ears to nobler pain ?

That region grave of plain and highland,
With Rome's grey ruin strewn around,
Is not a soft Calypso's island,
Nor fades at Truth's evoking sound.
High thoughts in words of quiet beauty
Accord with visions grand as these,
And song's imperishable duty
Has holier aims than but to please.
By word and image deeply wedded,
By cadence apt and varied rhyme,
To rouse the soul in sloth embedded,
And tune its powers to life sublime.

By loftier shows of man's large being
Than man's dim actual hour displays,
To clear our eyes for purer seeing,
And nerve the flagging spirits gaze.
By strains of bold heroic pleasure,
And action strong as thought conceives,
By many a doom-resounding measure
That best our selfish woes relieves ;

By these to stir, by these to brighten,
By these to lift the soul from earth,
The poet dares our joys to frighten,
And thrills the dirge of lazy mirth.

Ye Ruins, dust of empires vanish'd,
Ye mountains, clad with countless years,
From your great presence ne'er be banish d
Sad songs that live in earnest years :
Sad songs, the music of all sorrow,
Profound and calm as night's blue deeP
Accurst the dreams of any morrow
When man will feel he cannot weep.

BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.
This periodical reached us at so late an.hour yes-,
terday that we have scarcely had time to do more
'
than just glance at its contents. It is, on the whole;
an amusing Number, and opens with Albert Smith's
story of the " Fortunes
of the Scattergood Family,"
which, SO far.as it has yet proceeded, is an improve-,
ment on his former tale. The description of Mr.-
Glenalvon Fogg's . Coburg melodramßl and . its re-
,
hearsal at the theatre, in the presence of the enrap-.
tured. author,- abounds. in sly -touches of. humour,
which are the7tnoreeffeetiire inasmuch as they seem to
be based on truth. There .is also a spirited sketch of
a young :boy's first Iday at a public school—an im-
portant epoch in their lives which few school-boys
everforget: "Eve of St. Andrew" refers to the pe-
riod of 'Napoleon's. invasion of Russia, when all Ger-
many was in- astate. of high political ferment, and
secret Political. societies Were spreading in every di-
reetiont; The -heroine of the narrative is Herman.
Mallet "art-cothiiiiiiitie.yoiing German, who 'falls in.
love ,with 'Louise-Palm; the daughter of the President
Of one of thesaCietia. in question. Now it chanced
that the father .of this girl, tho Ugh a staunch patriot,
.....
wasakioa -confirmed: monomaniac, and this malady
shoiied itself- in-the strange means which `he adopted
for proCiiiing: tire. editions..of. old books. . He would
call at the-houseof-some-gentleman or'lady who he.
understood' tali a rarity of this sort, and, While en-
gaged' in conversation; • would suddenly knock their
brains Ont:.withAnieo little hammer which he always
kept concealed •-about his person, - and then walk
coolly 1 Off. :with 'his'. trastire, as ,if nothing
Of .moment had happened. He 'had thus
.dispatched
several respectable gents folks Without. 'creating the
least-suspicion, for nOonesupposed -that so staunch a
patriot TaS.,Falin;::o;iid Ond.V.O.:.F.O.:gentle in his nature,
could' be- a wholesale umrderer •;, -when - unfortunately
onEfine,day he. too) of .a countess,
whose: track was turned towards him ; and being Ills-
coverectin: the 4.6C.b.y.Heiii-Mtiller;:wlio happened
to beentering.the: room . at:. the moment, he was of
course2airestedv.found-gOty,Tand debapitated. By a
note:attnuhed to thelTale,welearp that :if is -strictly
founded striking illustration- of Lordßyron's famous. •iilage, that, .truth: is strung* than
fiction..
..The present- part -of -Mr, Fisher Murrav's
" Physiology. of .I.4ondotatife”: opens with -a descrip-
tion,- as minute :as• an —auctioneer's• catalogue; of the
first .daY of ::term iiithe.tbridonlitw• courts, anti closes •
with a-story illtistrative of the 'troubles and difficul-
ties and vexations that beset. the path of the. young
and briefless barrister. The "Death-. of Joachim
.Murit" details the last days .of'.,the late exAcineef
Naples—Napoleon's brother-in-law, a brave, gene-
rous, but rash man, and the finest cavalry officer in
Europe. Melancholy as was his fate; we can 114r41y
say that it was altogether untherited, for-Murat had
in -succession betrayed all parties who trusted him ;
and was warned beforeliand What would bq the con-
sequence should he again set. foot on the shore of
Naples. But he disregardedthe well-meant warning,
and 'rushed headlong. on . his destiny. The ." Gaol
Chaplain" relates an interesting anecdote of the late
Edmund Kean, which we subjoin :
" As to Kean, his transit from the *depths of obscurity
and penury, to fame and' wealth ;was altnoSt instanta-
neous, Poor fellow 1 I have seeil'him at YaiiPP4 phws
aho has Iptlintis played 'in his finest
Sadly and
of his chaqueredotoney. At Exeter more. than once I
styleari it~
hay
to
beeaitilussp:
spectator
ivdh noton

-sorely dispirited-did-he rluitit. At-Drury;-after his -hit,
I have:stood behind _the Scenes, "andhave Witnessed Peers
and Members of Parliament rushing to his dressing-
room to eltpress their unbounded delight at his, perform-
ance) and have been amused more. than once by seeing
members of the committee of management jostling against
each other, in_ their eager haste to presentmegns, lemon-
ade, and .orgeat, to the favoured and flattered actor, And
mine was the sorrow—saddest spectacle of all !—to view
hith in hiS. decline.: He was crossing the Tyne, a few
miles.beloW Newcastle, in iisteani ferry-boat, that plyed
between the opposite shores,, so contrived that a carriage
could be driven on and Off it Without requiring the ee-
' cupanti to alight. A large, heavy travelling-Chariot
drevir-iip; and-in it sat a thin,-.feeble-looking, little man,
muffled up in cleaksand fur. With the face I;was sure
I was. familiar. I bent forward, and caught the profile.
It was Kean. A woman of colour sat by his side. On
the crishions and floOr-of the'carriage were strewed va-
rious plapbooks ; torn, dirty,. ,dogs'-eared, and disfi-
gured enough. He-was to act that evening in a neigh-
bouring country town
_; and thither, impelled by old as-
sociations, I hollowed him: Alas ! I gazed oh 'a wreck
—a prematare bid thorough wreck. Voice, memory,
strength, all. were gone., The bOx I at in was, near
the stage—too near—it commanded so completely the
exit and entrance of each actor as greatly to dispel the
illusion. But on that night its positicin was invaluable
to me. It enabled me to watch • my, former favourite
closely and throughout. Whenever he quitted the
boards it was in a state of thorough , exhaustion. But
every gesture was most . anxiously .observed. His com-
panion,- the woman of colour, was' in close attendance on
him ; had evidently her fear as to the result of the even-
ing, and gave him continually small quantities of what
appeared to me, strong spirit-and-water, as a temporary
but fatal' -stimulus. - I-could 'have choked her,'" cried
Pounce, 'for her assiduity -The, play was the Iron
Chat, and he, .of,eourse, 'Sir Edward Mortimer. Long
before it closed he was voiceless from exhaustion.'
•

" Fit 'suliject,' said I, for the moralist ; health,
talents, energies, all profusely drawn upon, and all pre-
maturely spent r -
" I would do battle with ye'on that point too,' cried
Nunce ; time presses. In truth everything con-
nected with that- man was unprecedented, and Out of
course. His friends, his haunts, his liosts, all were ro-
mantic and out of keeping. Was there ever anything so
droll as the contrast afforded to him and his habits by
his host, Miss Hake, 'the little feather-dresser, with
whom he lodged at Exeter ? Imagine a punctilious, pre-
cise; correct, and rather timid old maid, of a certain age,
of very staid demeanour, and matter-of-fact habits.
Imagine her, I say, the host of an erratic genius like
Kean ; and yet he lodged with her for a very con-
siderable period. She, staid and timid as she was, liked
him, and they parted with reluctance and regret.'
" Droll enough certainly

" And instructive ; for it showed the power :Kean
possessed of kindling strong feelings of personal attach-
ment at a.period when 'those prepossessions must have
been wholly disinterested? "