The Sun.
London, England, 1829-06-01 00:00:00

NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

The " Swan River Settlement " is a homely
unpretending account of the character, local dis-
advantages, &c. of this just now much talked of
settlement. To those who wish for sound
practical information on the subject we recom-
mend it accordingly. " The Gallo-Irish " is
an animated dramatic sketch (from the pen, we
presume, of Mr. Sheil) of a late trial for libel, at
Wexford ; it is, however, of too restricted and
local a character to be generally interesting to
English readers. " A Private Sitting with a re-
toed Chancellor" is,—could it be otherwise ?
a welcome bit of gossip. We extract it for the
benefit of our readers, premising that the two
closing paragraphs are admirably in point, and
beautifully illustrative of a great man's faculty
of forgetfulness. To provide for an old friend,
seven years after he has died in a work-house,
is worthy of a great Anti-Catholic.

"While affairs were in an unsettled state, and I was hesi-
tating whether I should accept the chaplaincy to Sierra
Leone or not, I received a summons from the Chancellor.
Notwithstanding our relationship—for my mother was a
near connection of his Lmd4hip's—our intercourse had, of
late years, been so truly painful and humiliating, that I
hesitated whether I should expose myself to fresh mortifi-
cation by obeying it. But the mandate was peremptory,
and I went.

" I found him surrounded by papers, and alone. He told
me, without the slightest preparation or preface, that he
was on the point of quitting office, and was about to fill
up his vacant livings—one was to be mine. '
said he, pohiting to a wicker basket filled with biters of
all descriptions, sorts, and sizes, those are applic itions
for livings from hungry curates; the most numerous, the
most modest, and the most indefatigable class of corres-
pondence
a minister of state can be cursed with. Read
them, or burn them ; or stay, turn them over, and if,
among the signatures—those are always clear and intel-
ligible if all else be obscure—you recognize that of a friend,.
I will not hesitate, on this occasion, to fill up a presenra•
tion with his name.'

" He pushed the hasliet towards me as he spoke, resumed
his study of a large thick roll of paper, which he had
laid down at my entrance, and in an instant was absorbed
in thought.

"Err I entered upon my task, I could not help glancing
for a moment on him—so singularly gifted, and so singu-
larly fortunate—who fronted me. His countenance was
that of an exceedingly good-natured man ; though his
dark, full, deeply-seated eyes glancing from under his thick
bushy eyebrows, gave him at times an air of keen and
caustic penetration, not unmingled with sternness. Still
there seemed not an atom of spleen, or pride, or discontent
about him ; but on the contrary, a simplicity, an honesty,
a straightforwardness in his look and demeanour rarely pre-
served by those who are hackneyed in political life. Once,
and once only, did he look off his papers, when, with a
start, he exclaimed, Charlatan, Charlatan! I call God

. to witness I haie deserved from him very different treat-
ment. But I resign ! I resign !" He was evidently
thinking aloud, and 'unconscious of an auditor. The in-
terruption was salutary, for it recalled me to my task.
"'What mementoes were before me of bitter disappoint-
ment and protracted suffering! Flow he could resist stk.!,
appeals I know not. How he could rest in his bed after
reading such pithy statements of poverty and privation, of
si,,hnesi and sorrow,—conscious that be had made no
effort to mitigate the one, or assuage the wretchedness of
the other,—is best known to himself. He was a great
law lord ; and accustomed to weigh evidence, to detect
error where it had no existence, and to spy truth where
others saw only the grossest fa!sehood, was perhaps dead to
every finer, and softer, and kindlier emotion.

"For my own part, when I real some letters penned with
that simple touching e!oquence which only real suffering
can inspire, and fancied the hopes which the anxious writers
would fondly -cherish, and pictured to myself how, day by
day, the sickness of disappointment would steal upon the
overcharged heart, how eager expectation would become a
flickering uncertainty, and hope would darken into des-
pair, I pitied from my soul the anguish oF the writers.
" There were two letters which particularly struck me.
—One was from an old clergyman in Wales, who had
brought up a family of eleven children on an income never
exceeding sixty guineas per annum, had lest three brave
boys in his Majesty's service, had two in the navy still
fighting for him,'—who now, unable to labour as he had
formerly done in the vineyard, wished in the evening of his
days for ' a docent maintenance' and repose. It was I
thus curiously, but strongly, countersigned by the ede-
brated Dr. Watson :

" Mr. - has been a curate fifty years. I have
known him ten. He is one of the most efficient, zealous,
and pious clergymen in my diocese ; of any thing base,
mean, dishonourable, or discreditable, it would be as diffi-
cult to convict him as a Cardinal of fornication; for which
last purpose, by the canon law, no less than seventy-two
eye-witnesses are necessary.

" R. LLANDAFF.'
A hugellack cross was appeudeJ to this letter. It suffi-
ciently indicated its fate.

" The (tiller was from the Rev. John —. It recalled
to the Chancellor their early friendship—dwelt on their
close and intimate intercourse in their boyish days—told
him how sadly his own fortunes had been overcast—that
his wife was a maniac and in confinement—•that his eldest
daughter was an ideot—that he himself addressed him in
the full prce;pect of all the horrors of a gaol, front which he
conjured the Chancellor, by all the recollections of their
youthful hours, to rescue him. Strong testimonials were
annexed. They proved his penury to be caused by cala-
mity, not extravagance.
" Some exclamation I uttered aroused the great law-
yer's attention, and he looked up. ' What ! my school-
fellow, John —! Honest Jack, as we used to call him !
I remember him well at :Mime's. We have played truant
in company fought in company—been tiNged in com-
pany :—put his name down ; he is provided for.'
" Hers provided for, my Lord, lung since !'—' Indeed!
How He died nearly seven years ago, in lilingt.n
work-house.'—' Dead ? Honest Jack dead ! He was my
junior,' said he, with some appearance of real feeling, by
many years. He must have have died young. I wish I
had made a minute of his letter earlier. Poor Jack !
Many a happy hour we have passed together, and I es-
teemed him much.'

" Passages from a Poet's Dream Book" are,
as they should he, strongly provocative of sleep.
A Cockney miasma breathes over them : a
smooth ambling vein of prettiness permeates them.
Could we but understand them, we have no
doubt we should like them ! " Walks in Rome
and its Environs " are passable, but really the
subject is so hacknied, so very, very hacknied,
that no power on earth, however first-rate,

however versatile, can render it either novel or
entertaining. We are sick of the perpe-
tual small talk and still smaller scribblings
about the statues, the paintings, the ruins, and
the long list miscellaneous etceteras of
" modern Rome." It is as bad as the Catholic
Question. Nay, it is worse, for the one is ex-

tinet, while the other bids fair to be eternal.
" The Ruined House" is a solemn and touching
effusion worthy of the subject, by that orna-
ment of her sex and country, Mrs. Hemans.
We regret that our limits will not allow us to
extract it. " Sporting Scenes in India" is a
pleasant description of a pleasant but somewhat
hazardous •amusement, hunting the wild boar.
Country gentlemen will derive much gratification
from its perusal. " Proverbs" is a light and
flimsy article, short and readable. " Embassy
to the Court of Ava" contains some striking
events regarding a subject whose interest is now,
for the most part, passed away. " A word of
advice to the Anti-Catholics" is a most pointed
epigram. As it is short we will extract it.