The Sun.
London, England, 1845-06-06 00:00:00

OP
OA
1 04)
enlogs
otone.
Or th.

vtolla
!saes
tageg*

itio 61
ia to'
xedA,
dii
iteu'

00
a-

oe,
co"
00,4

CO'
1 01
r, sod
Oisi

td
oleo
iocc°'

DODS

SPORTING INTELLIGENCE.
(FRONT OUR CORRESPONDENT.)
eOaks was a right down sporting race, won by a good
B,i;etts, whose good fortune every lover of honest racing
tia-tiet be delighted to witness. I question if in any year so
h aY mistakes have been made by the proprietors of race
tberees, The Lancashire Witch cut up most disgracefully, to
47 ttetoniahment of her backers. Her condition was first-
ye:: and Yet she was beaten by animals which, were she to
tlen another day, I am convinced she would defeat with
-aline difficulty. Hope ran extremely well, as, indeed, have
thethe,.tags in Wadlow's stable. Had there, however, been
the ;lightest idea in the minds of certain parties
measures
Which
,errn in which she had been in, the same measu
leEt Were had recourse to, in order to prevent The Libel
Winnin
g, would have been employed against her.
The
Usid of Orleans found the hill too severe for her to
ilee%Plish in time to catch many others whom she would
hare
beaten on a different course.
ata.ior Yarbur h's Lady Sarah must not be lost sight of
ea rotate g
occasions.
,Lord Chesterfield's beautiful little animal Lady Wildair
s-haeusteither length nor speed for an Oaks winner; as it was,
illd
setn truggled very well, and showed that her backers ,
friereolewas:n for supporting her in the way they did. Her
Thqes.
are very numerous.
both Poleon of the turf this year made a great. mistake
14,...,_was one which all men speculating on races in which
reel'" are engaged are liable to fall into. His Lordship
Zdassnreil that his Miss Elis was the best of the Good-
e divilion, laid against the winner, and backed his mare
s
reoSIY• She went amiss the night before, and let h
,00(1
po
'P in for 2,2201.
as, the pet of the Irish division, was thought to be a
plied s, but
her
w I understand " the Old England game" was
ith .
winner's chance, previous to the race for the Coffee-
th
e ro^elStakes at Newmarket, was by no means a bad one.l But
and manner in which she was beaten by Pro ogude
When lons
, completely put her out of the. market,. and
t 1 `he character of those horses is taken into considehraer-
th:e one would have been justified in recommending
the t attention of the public. It is somewhat singular thatk
ea the of Richmond on this occasion, like Mr. Gratwic e
(len eietbY day, changed his colour and his luck. Why
kitr -,r_eter and Lord Glasgow take the hint, and follow
1 March and Lord Alexander Lennox having
sge.tofi, "wer in the winter at long odds, and being unable to
Who,-hOll a good stake. In conclusion, I must say that
is
Ls losing its attraction in the eyes of the fair sex,
Theketti afraid, will migrate to courtly Ascot.
711% nttling on Tuesday was the most amicable ever
'IN, at-than. For a wonder not a defaulter was to be
:,belierett,,Rll Old England was very nearly causing some.n-
Al qui " this horse had been treated fairly, and the atte
Illinatihe stables not been so much distracted withthethxeam •
to 44:eftlie Stebbing's Plot, as to have enableditis
jus
bPoli the given him his regular gallops,
When he cards that he might have won. As usual
044ids,t-sPtßip he favourite is beaten, the bookmakers have
-"Tie Profit on their ledger. The chief winners are
)li-4iggins, the Hon. Horace Pitt, Mr. Chichester,
kr r•SatherlancL
pthe owner of Foig-a-ballagh, and a friend,
IkehLulelled the winner for a trifling amount, and being
fer 44 7 get out as he was desirous of doing, was actually
Win rre‘tiees not:the reader feel for his painful position?) to
The ;111 ten to twelve thousand
pounds.
hit], ‘l,..ae lt Prince was only started to win a bet" of 5001.
AN%erter Mytton had laid that he would start. Mr.
3,1
1008, be had made the bet purchased the horse for
ktl
4 ".1 started him, and so got him for nothing.
bite s'e Poisoning of Bessy Bedlam and Plenipotentiary,of
tie pt. r, a more atrocious scheme to get money out
gale 1:!e has never been practised. Mr. Gully is deserving
n
Al% gighest credit for the spirited and able manner
thiee.ls,4'ught. the matter before the sporting world. It
j'et 4 --11gY to be regretted that more severe measures can-
Wookh,adePted against the scoundrels whose conduct has
ttheae-i: such disgrace on the turf. It is, no doubt, owing to
t• etthies that John Day owes the loss of Lord George
I,:ntbelt's horsesi, His Lordship suspected young John
414 : Person who gave information respecting his horses,
t4e Person
told his father he must get rid of him, but
khr, conscious of the integrity of his son, declined to
it Z,...nirn, and his Lordship removed his horses. The
intolc' cad have some idea of the reason Lord George
tre - 8 horses ranbadl during the last season they
Tot banebury so y
kotile.Ascosmartgramme is now out, and is very rich in its
1.147
TELEGRAPH.
en, June 5, 1845.
kb
'''IWORY OF THOMAS HOOD
IIY MRS. S. C. HALL.

---....---
~, i
',II!: Dist (From the
\,_ be,. winter has been one of dismal heaviness t,o, us, for
Lt.Ztli konnsto to
, many dear friends; a cold bleak _ "season"
'lflrteee,,,u Surpassing its predecessor in the nu,,mbetr of i
the ,rtOw ."81 until we have asked each other, Is he cup
*re,'„kil et unfilled ?" All through February and March
nth,...'a sed 111 of the death-bell min led with the snow-
41)te, the ,srl°Be above the storm, while the frost-bound earth
kW of ri, 'tank of the mattock and the spade. We do not
IteeLtest tnlsrtiple hearts, near and dear, whom death found
in ill° toil, itainortal i ty—ri pest for the sickle—but of others,
au% Ilovre: world about
;nands, who have been taken " home"
ee,4lßiktutt ~ their days
min,,,' gentle Spirit past away while nature was re-
wiitirs.s,,,N nalooinkg her leaves and flowers, and wearing once
l' n ' if lop'' ov„„ of plenteousness and peace.
kei,utati ,fltet eu.."‘ the sea, came news of the death of one
liti.rallinteStiret,lga_n_7l:n would have achieved a much higher
gth - bad yet won—for her mind was evidently
D441,$ thetelfere e,41n4 her views of life and knowledge of
er„3e;" r"-aryd-„Panding. One of our Contemporaries
,has
t°,"n vrimler-p, :ale Browne was " spoiled at first by ON er-t
°l ti,alre pa,lBed the she-hasirlpoet might have been, bu
/lilt.'" °e;'' ha a7,cl What
th:lit• aehl,nee v-
ueemed her "spoiled"—for all her later
°A.I; tru hereiltre and thought, and much genuine refine-
phr,,t. 11ee,,,,aq small volume of poems—. Sketches from•
net3,oBl°l•4lB than-4,131Y evidence of higher hopes and holier
hoof sh--„„Luelong to the " spoiled" children of the
ttln-..oineven ,"'Llife, though uneventful, was chequered
se" h."' she e,—nrse--as literary lives always are in Eng-
Orel;4° knew-4! a loving and a beloved wife, esteemed by
i7ll IP4unt . her as a kind and amiable woman, and one
ore ge (1.()' I found it hard to believe that death had
tb7l4,lthat tilli the new-born infant that nestled in her
ltiqt but ,„.° grave had closed over the laughing girl I
ktetiller throlf3'enterday—her rich brown curls clustering
elieria„.(t`!\ler 8,7 and her eyes luminous with mirth.
.-unted 4rows followed. There are few, indeed, who
iyz.,,th_ With the light and graceful literature of our
;INr.c4i, tterr:',l culle • 1
• ~,, _l/4, id the- simpie and natural flowers so plenti-
-014 ae td is tolitr paths—to whom the name of Leman
neitli Mast, poi,n?Wri : his ready and eloquent pen could in.
,1ti1,4-, edoi"L,an epigram, tell a story, or lend interest
N ,;t4 they o_,Blo`iver spirits were wondering and ponder-
otlNatitne wits', to write about.
N.L4i td was to a pleasant watchword, a guarantee that
Lrfh• "4 ea f.llloW—racy and fanciful. His wit, rather
04 leg it Ustic, and so abounding that it brightened
41144, tt'lvoid Pl;a:red about, was checked only by a sensitive
ill..tendt2Ting Pain; even where to censure became a
it' 4' 'reque mess in his nature was apparent in his w.rit-
kii it.rds_Woluid.Y stopped short of his object lest he might
sklllityZorks;
~ Of late, few articles bore his name in pe-
Olt teqnhaaird those who are unacquainted with the
(oldt.-...“ op.rn. that scatters . leaders," ~ criticism," and
Vtlilt°4lititicls" of all kinds en all subjects to guide
4, ore stream tle imagine what volumes have passed
'rte kale of time—written for " the day," by this
jit algbrY.laboura, but uponetl which the power of the
l'iti;llliyottretinye:rsin had been lavishly expended.
kl4t„lielealth and lir we knew him ; even as a poet, buoyant
'lle et--evith Pe—his purpose fixed, his independence
tlk Ikehild of the dreamy, ardent temperament of a
I„le,tty .1,,.. , song,,, yet tiring himself to the direst and
oittiaiuile theurk,and labouring at everything that did not
trip 41ora...Dri.nnIeles with which he set out in life,—
eeti11e.,4417 With a brave heart and a bright eye, known
yttLientote, fitand imparting as much pleasure to, as he
ir,stbfoura havew!ra rY society. Many are the happy and
Skil% `listing ' passed together ; his ready sym-
k,tereearue'Vonfidence that was never betrayed. Alas!
*re nerves oe victim of a distressing malady; and his
kr,t4,l4ileved
otiiwere ill able to endure long midnight watch-
iketwnt iithasejh hy Midnight labour—the coin with which
v„, ;,,.., her 'eacl. She died some months ago, and to
Net' bls lightU.!at,h seemed a mercy. From that time,
441, 14,t.1e 1.085 of life either blazed or flickered, as it was
ItottP letelleied 111), and went about, and wrote, when he
S eLdnee. '4,l,nd perhaps truly, that he could not write
, ATI% t• ne fact was, his mind required repose—a
!kn 44,neer r°,.111 labour—it craved rest ; but how is
Noeb`l vo„.°'„ Periodical literature to find rest ?
tk,q nielf; "not to be excited," " not to over-
ti dra • ki, ,
kitNt Sitt tSties , . " • they cannot see underneath
eit, t e
ek
.Ihat society folds around the form—they
t h`Lotild h`flina that bind us to the galley. A terror
14*11k;11' friend to provide for his children took hold
itn titettha heue"a seized him by the brain through the
ittlewto ot,ever, boutle affected—to all appearance they were
klltteryne at:4er inte___lle could not endure the light, and con-
-14 el_n of his ;4'e Y; his imagination appeared to retain
1;4 era eason had given way; and thus was the
liNNin t't Do txhaust
Ny, 41,,r t.....th ed at one-and-forty! The eloquent
~ tnio, hieh, ~.° man with many real friends, yet dying
gebitt 4111,eri41.1have hiee' onnlev ready hand had unbuckled for a
It tqt.ileh, Not I,_, worn after a brief `manage honour for
NI: tfluitdn, tiave‘ZL,l.le was difficult to g ; loath to
kb. lath pea,en, his own exertions; and proud—as all
N'pl ictt a 4 must be—of the independence that had
Ittk._ ant tem had friendship of the intellectual and the
when von saw his bright face or heard
4.41 *SR- 8' to th' ft • kpoitllliti, ottrilf. that h In of him and sorrow—the sure
1447,1,1°1110:n17er r:i' Q would be better by-and-by. Ah lit
trqdrhtle ‘,,,,,, Laittlon to such a life.
bilaitoto,ther
passeidn his grave, the bells tolled on;
.liehne.,l4. Smirks ,_ away—names highly honoured
ilAth, in wer] an no rnillips, the gentle and highly.
41t,,ne4a)., i.u,,, but ;17 one whose name has long been a
k'Rh the or year c,Te death has been anticipated for
ytto,yearee,,lni----,, the noble poet--yet, strange, better
li.
1/4NN, eoai af!.er ester":--Themas Hood! Truly, the
,14, i„ in.in.7a , furnished abundant food for mirth,
1t,1,110 i% ,:le bre &•Ine The Plea of the Midsummer
arn ..,, ,
?ii.katit ,The son
,"I e.ugene Aram," and depict such 1
01,11'irie 4 ',eve b f, of the Shirt" and " The Bridge of
L ealb hea.le orn formed in no common mould ! He,
0, ttatr the
thli.ll4
4.64
of first time I
loutln tUnt the p • met him was at one of the
4 iy h Painter
teti i, pq,t hay don Martin; for a moment I turned
le•,e 4,4 ernou,e2, Wa, of e--disappointed, for the counte-
on, the place,
e_'.., Inelancholy rather than of mirth :
.4,4phzeet
ilaace, which, even to solemnity, in the upper
.., 4:17,1"..ie1t. Yor th.,", In public, was seldom relieved by
lietnt
are ;
an'dfnouth, or the occasional sparkle of
ft.i,,ttilie: 448' that hlet Was a general remark among
~,fie_ , e 4 y wit...._e_was too quiet for " the world."
tloa°so4:, he
.11othid..at,_hers to be found in society, who
qt,ikm:theinake '' 'n a man, unless, like a sound-
-0.1 lie 4 takives great noise at a small touch—
' q °th ""olf aggrieved, unless an " author" open
to 4h 4i-ino:eol.32.haerisdansp:a as he writes.; this vulgar no-
t'M et t.. aOldered_
„_tamp, creeps into good society,
StiZt.ve \'Nies'ePninfe'r e'eutu I have seen both Hook and
441 -,Kttikti. shit, light s! a partridge, by persons who
ti0tt.%,4141 starr• Kook, ,ImPLIY by repeating what such
; 1, ofshiling, tYeroaps, liked this celebrity—
ue Ala P pai,, is lion hunt--so different from
toeise"h.l3. veritable greatness. Mr. Hood
"'"lver too refined, to endure it ; the

dislike to being pointed at as the " man who was funny" kept
him out of a crowd, where there were always numbers who
really honoured his genius, and loved him for his gentle and
domestic virtues. It was only among his friends that his
playful fancy flourished, or that he yielded to its influence ;
although, strictly speaking, " in all his feelings, he
never sought to stimulate his wit by the false poison of
draughts of wine ; nor was he ever more cheerful than when
at his own fireside he enjoyed the companionship of his dear
and devoted wife.. He was playful as a child ; and his imagi-
nation, pure as bright, frolicked with nature, whcm he loved
too well ever to outrage or insult by slight or misrepresen-
tation. And yet he was City born, and City bred,—born in the
unpoetic district of " the Poultry ;" though born as it were,
to letters, for his father was a bookseller ; and the son was
remarkable for great vivacity of spirits, and prone to asto-
nish good citizens, guests at his father's, no less than his
fellow-pupils when at school, by the shrewdness and bril-
liancy of his observations upon topics of which it was thought
he knew nothing. He finished his education at Camberwell ;
and, even at that early age being in very precarious health,
was advised to try the effect of a sea voyage upon his con
stitution. The sea suited him not. I can well imagine its
boiling turbulence—its fitfulness—its glittering brightness,
and its fedrful storms finding no sympathy in the gentle
bosom of the author of " The Plea of the Midsummer
Fairies."

He passed some years, on his return, with relatives in
" Bonny Dundee ;" and, manifesting a great talent for draw-
ing, was apprenticed to his uncle, Mr. Robert Sands, an
engraver. But he trifled with the pencil, while he laboured
with the pen ; his future destiny was pointed out by the
light of genius. And what rare talents did he not possess,
blended with the gentleness and kindliness of the sweetest
of poetic temperaments—how full his sympathies !—how
honest his heart—howgreat and true in all things Although
his existence was a long disease rather than a life, he
was free from all bitterness and harshness of spirit. feeling
intensely for the sufferings of others; be was in every way
unselfish ; prone to the very last to turn his own sad suffer-
ings into jests, and forcing those who wept over his agony,
fierce as it was (until the last dull sleep which continued
from the Tuesday to the Saturday of his death), to smile at
the wittiness of his conceits, mingling as they did with a
touching consciousness of his situation, and the solemn belief
i❑ that hereafter which, in all faith and humility, we believe
—to the full extent of knowledge—he now enjoys.

But what a sad picture—and by no means a'solitary one—
do the last months of this GREAT MAN'S life display " The

Song of the Shirt" was knocking at every heart in Great Bri-
tain, while its author was panting for breath, and trying to
enlist the forces of his friends in the launch of the Magazine
that still bears his name. And his friends stood by him:
. .

they gathered willingly beneath the banner which; had it
been raised by a strong arm instead of one trembling with
pain and the unsteadiness of departed health, would have
battled the breeze boldly and waved for years triumphantly
above—as a shelter to—his home. A little longer, and the
difficulties of his position increased ; one illness succeeded
another, and " l'Envoi" at the end of each " periodical la-
bour," induced the mingled smiles and tears of his admirers
lie wrote wit while propped by pill.ws; and the chapters of
a novel—doomed to remain, like his life, a great fragment—
were produced between the intervals and beatings of heart
disease.

Alas! what those endure who write for bread ! But it is all
over with him now: the gold has been refined and the cruci-
ble is broken; the toil-worn body has been bowed in death
that the soul might escape into life; the mortal cerements
have been burst; the winged child is borne into the true life
—the life of eternity ! Those who loved him best rejoice at
his release from labour—never remunerated in proportion to
the pleasure it gave—never in a way at all commensurate
with the enormous profit it produced seldom, perhaps,
thought of by those whose hearts it opened. Latterly his
dear friends had been agonised by his terrible lament, " I
cannot die—l cannot die !" Such friends were thankful to
lay him, on the 10th of May, in a calm grave at Kensall-
green. It will not, we are sure, be long before a monument
is raised to his memory; and there are hearts enough in
England to remember that his widow and two children have
but the hundred a year to subsist on—bestowed by Sir Robert
Peel, whose letter, in words which did him honour, con-
veyed the request that he might be permitted to make the
personal acquaintance of one whose works and whose cha-
racter he had long admired and appreciated. In this gene-
rous wish and hope he was destined to be disappointed—but
Honour and glory to a great statesman with a good heart I
Such men are worthy almoners of genius!

IRELAND.
(From the Derby Reporter, May 23.)
The whole population of Ireland is about 8.000,000
Of these it is reckoned that there are 6,427,712 Roman
Catholics 752,952 Episcopal Protestants 642,356
Presbyterians, and 121,808 voluntaries—including Bap-
tists, Independents, Methodists, and Quakers.

ESTABLISHED CHURCH, OR EPISCOPAL PROTESTANTS,
752,952 adherents, including men, women, and chi
lren-2 archbishops-10 bishops-300 dignitaries-
-1,385 benefices-2,348 parishes-1,534 churches, &c.
ANNUAL REVENUE OF THE ESTABLISHMENT.

X s. d.
Archbishoprics and Bishoprics ... 151,127 12 4
Deans and Chapters
Glebe Lands
Tithe composition
Ministers' Money

£807,533 12 4
Since the union in 1800 to 1835, Parliament has given
3,308,3692 to the Irish Establishment, besides advancing
a loan of 324,6231., part of which has not been repaid.
Of the 2,348 parishes 155 have no church, clergyman,
or Protestant Episcopalian ; 496 parishes have under 20
Protestant Episcopalians ; and 895 parishes have under
50 Protestant Episcopalians, including men, women, and
children. As so many parishes are without either a
church or a clergyman, 87 unions have been formed. In
Kilcooly, ten parishes are thrown together. In Bally-
makill, there are nine parishes, one of which is 27 miles
from the church. In the union of Burnchurch, there are
fourteen parishes ; three of them are at the opposite ex-
tremities of the county of Kilkenny.
In the 1,385 benefices, there are 99 in which there are
not 20 Protestant Episcopalians-124 benefices, with
between 20 and 50 in each. The following table, of
seven benefices, may give some idea of the state of things
in different parts of Ireland

Resident
Protestants. Clergymen. Church. Tithes.

.£ s. d.
Modeligo (Union) 4 0 0 440 0 0
Seskeinane.
Clenne
Eflin
Gilbertstown 8 0 0 250 0 0
Mahoonagh
Killeedy l2 0 0 484 12 0

0 2,889 11 0

In the Bishopric of Cloyne, there are eight parishes
in which the cost of each Protestant Episcopalian, adult
and infant, is 281. per head, as below:
Members of the Tithe.
Established Church. Composition,
13 £4OO
400
498
500
600
784
809
869

tiillatty
Ballybea •
Templeracarigy
Bally vourney
Ardagh
Whitchurch

Arogeesha
Clonfriest.,.

£4,860

Of the somewhat more than 300 dignities and pre-
bends, the returns state that there are 75 in which there
are no duties whatever to perform; 94 are mere sine-
cures except the duty of an occasional sermon in the ca-
thedrals. The Dean of Raphoe receives 1,4911.; the
Precentor of Lismore, 4481.; the Archdeacon of Meath,
723/i, without any duty to perform. In the eight
parishes above mentioned in the Bishopric of Cloyne,
the cost per head of the members of the Establishment,
adults and infants, is 281. In the union of I'aleroan,

it is 671. 10s. per head ; and throughout the Eta•
blished Church, it is 1/. Is. sd. In Scotland it is 3s. 4d.

PRESBYTERIANS.

642,356 adherents, men, women, and children-
-80,000 attendants on public worship-452 places of
worship—between 400 and 500 ministers—nearly 40,000/,
per annum granted by Parliament under the name of
Region: Donum.

About forty of the Presbyterian ministers aro said
have departed from the faith of their forefathers, and
the standards of their primitive communion, and have
mostly become Socinians ; yet they share amongst them
about 3,0001. of the Regium Donum, and about 2,0001.
the bequests of death-bed piety, or dying penitence
for the promulgation of doctrines alike opposed to the
articles and standards of the national statute. Such
has been the natural downward tendency of the Regium
Donum.

The Presbyterian ministers in Ireland are general
pensioners on the Government, for, perhaps, more than
a moiety of their stipends : on an average each receives
from the national purse 751. per annum. The effect of
the Regium Donum on political and religious society
is very apparent. It has produced in the Presbyterians
an insatiable thirst—give, give, is still their cry for
additional sums from the public revenue. Their sym-
pathies have evidently mingled with the abettors of mis-
government ; where their influence has been strongest,
the most illiberal and narrow-minded political repre-
sentatives have been returned to Parliament. The voice
of their ministers has not often been heard when cruel,
or sanguinary tithe affrays, have occurred ; dependence
on State patronage has produced servility to the Mi-
nister of the day, and intolerance toward all who differ
from their opinions.