The Sun.
London, England, 1842-02-02 00:00:00

NORTH- OF ENGLAND MAGAZINE.

We have here another first N umber of a
monthly periodical, which comprises, among other
contributions, an intelligent paper on the subject
of the " Manufacturing Population;" in which
the writer observes, " The question of juvenile
labour is one that concerns the parents infinitely
more than the employers of the children. Ma-
nufActurers have not created the system; it has
been fbrced on them." Most likely it has;
nevertheless, the manufacturers have it in thei r
power greatly to ameliorate the evils of th e
system, and we hope and trust they will combine
to do so. " Our Political Prospects" gives some
useful hints to the Reformers as respects their
future conduct in Parliament.

THE DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE
The intelligent countenance of Dr. Robert
James- Graves, Professor of the Institute of
Medicine, adorns the February N umber of our
Tory Contemporary's Irish Portrait Gallery. A
Memoir accompanies it, written in a - spirit
which must be highly flattering to the living
original of so spirited s'att etching. " Gas-
par the Pirate" is a clever continuation of a
very startling tale, as unlike every-day life,
even )11 the Indian seas, as possible. Besides
articles, clever in their way, about the Corn-
laws and the Repeal of the Union, there are
some well-written reviews of " Stephens' Ame-
rican Travels," and the latest volumes of " Ram-
bles in the Pyrenees." From the "Anthologia Ger-
manica" we quote the following extract from Bur-
betiad of the " Abduction of Lady Gertrude
Yin Hochburg,—a translation of which was never
before attempted in the English language. The
lady's father, a Baron of the Empire, had deter-
mined to bestow her hand upon a more powerful
suitor than the Knight to whom she gave her
heart. On the eve of her nuptials her lover carried
her off, was pursued by her intended spouse, whom
he killed in Iltir fight, but when ready to continue
his flight with his fair charge, he found himself
surrounded by her father's retainers, led on by
the Baron in person. What followed will be best
told by the poet : •
Alas, poor Gertrude ! Who can tell
Her agony of hope and fear,
As, like a knell, each full word fell
Upon her anxious ear•?
She cast herself in tears to earth,
She wrang her hands till blood gushed forth,—
She tried each fond' entreaty
To move her sire to pity.
"0, father, for the love of Heaven, •
Have mercy on your child ! Forgive,
Even as you look to be forgiven !
A guilty fugitive
I am not !—lf I fled from one
Whem still I cannot chuse but shun
As ruffian-like and hateful;
Oh, call me not ungrateful !
" Think, think how in my childhood's days
You used to take me on your knee,
And sing me old-romantic lays,
Which yet are dear to me !
You called me thenyourhope, your pride ;
Oh, father, cast not now aside
Those hallowed recollections !
Crush nut your child's affections !"
Oh, mighty Nature !—how at last
Thou conquerest all of Adam's race !
The Baron turned away and passed
One hand across his face—
He felt his eyes grow moist and dim,
And tears were such a shame in him, •
Whose glory lay in steeling
His bosom against feeling !
But, all in vain !—a thousand spears
Pierce in each 14 ord his daughter speaks—
In vain !—the pent-up floods of years
Roll down the warrior's cheeks
And now he raises up his child,
And kisses o'er and o'er her mild
Pale face of angel-meekness !
With all a father's weakness !
" My. child I I iiiay have seemed severe—
Well, GOD forgive me—as I now
Forgive thee also freely here
All by-past faults !—And thou, •
My -son, come hither !"—And the knight •
Obeyed, all wonder and delight—
" Since love bears no repressing,
Mayest have her,—with my blessing I
" Why carry to a- vain excess
FoATr ghrieev eel
,nn,
henasisti tjlai iisadnolo,
oLwr
eigfs'ee
lii(e)arsnts
.span ?
And to
m
I\vrrhoeurhgetal
ht;
nefhae Wrong,—since rsheo,
soonsi nost
What, though thy sire was long my foe,
lie
e
ll
ll
our
eai
clas‘, neve'lreeslase
nee
lsaoslre;
t
once
‘A' CnFdoomirh3 eee:a!eiv—teen has rich rewards in will
store
=this
is!— day
ends our For those who cherish Peace.
Come,strife—
Clasph
childrenan ds.l-
-!
T May your path of life
Be henceforth strewn with roses !"
And here the ballad closes.

11 a prt—zie- •
' ...• .
" .4 .