The Sun.
London, England, 1845-09-01 00:00:00

Ms.

elusion than that he far surpassed Cicero in generosity
of mind, daring exploits, and in manly acquire-
meets. Cicero, iioWeetr: has the advantage in the eyes
of superfichil observers. Ilia elegenti °reticule, which are
read in every school ; his elegant taste for literature,
and his unsparing abuse of Antony, have raised him to
a piens-tele of fame litths merited by his other qualities.
Antony 'e speeches and general character are much less
ktaisen turd appecciatt d, and the writer, therefore, de-
serves prtiise, ease) at the present hour, for making them
more conspicuous to the general reader. However the
teataea was arranged among the Triumvirs, it cannot be
said that Antony proscribed Cicer3. His name was
placed in a different list, and possibly he would
not have been proscribed at all, if Antony had
ben supreme dictator. So much in Antony's
favour. " Yet," says " Morgan Rattler," " upon
the faith of the sotietrasns abuse heaped by the common
railer upon Antony, nine tenths of the world are satis-
fied to enter up judgment of utter condemnation against
him, and fiat this alone, but to accept his enemy as a
virtuous philosopher, A pure patriot, and a sort of blessed
martyr. But the truth is, that if no second philippic
had been written, if not one of the fourteen philippics
had been spoken, the deeds done by Cicero against
Antony fully justified him, according to the doctrines
and feelings of that day, in wrecking the severest
vengeance on his head. Twice, at least, Antony would
have been assassinated, if the advice of the gentle philo-
sopher had prevailed." These facts, about which there
can be no doubt, and others enumerated, throw a stain
on the memory of Cicero, and make the world less
regret his untimely end. In fact, his own timorous,
wavering, and cunning disposition brought on his fall,
for had he used common diligence in making his escape,
had he not lingered on the coast of Gaeta with the hope
of some change taking place at Rome in his favour, he
would have been allowed to leave Italy in safety. The
article altogether places the merits of the two statesmen
in a clear point of view, and if we except a decided bias
against Cicero, perhaps not unwarranted by history,
the contrast is not fir frora the truth. There are two
other articles in the present number not less entitled to
praise, one of which is entitled, " Greek and Roman
domestic affairs," and the other a review of Victor.
Hugo's Lyrics. The former is limited to the domestic
customs of the Greeks. those of the Romans being
reserved fur a future nnmber. It is founded chiefly
on a work of Becker, a German philosopher,
and gives a good idea of the manners and
customs and amusements of the lively and intelligent
people of Attica,. Their houses, their halls, sleeping
apartments, banking system, dinners, festivals, and fu-
neral cer monies are amply described, and give us a
much more favourable idea of Greek customs and re-
finements than of those which distinguished the masters
of the world. The other article which we have men-
tioned, does justice—perhaps more than justice—to
Baron-Hugo. for a great many of his writings are blow
mediocrity ; those particularly which aim at flights, like
those of Atlases, without the genius and prudence which
controlled the course of the elegant and fanciful Italian.
Many of his lyrics, however, deserve the highest praise.
Those on the rapid rise, the splendid career, and the un-
expected fall of Napoleon, are peculiarly spirited, and
show that Victor Hugo has the real soul of a poet. We
have room for only one extract, as translated by the
writer, which describes the former master of Europe
weeping on the barren rock of St. Helena, over the pic-
ture of his only child :
" 'Twas not the steps of that heroic tale
That from Arcola marched to Montmirail
On glory's red degrees ;
Nor Cairo's pacha's fierce Numidian steeds
Nor the tall shadows of the pyramids,—
Ah I 'twas not always these;—
" 'Twas nut the bursting shell, the iron sleet,
The whirldwied rush of battle 'neath his feet,
Though twice ten years ago,
When, at his breath, upon that sea of steel
Were launch'd the rustling banners,—there to reel
Like masts when tempests blow ;
"'Twas not Madrid, nor Kremlin of the csar,
Nor Pharos on old Egypt's coast afar,
Nor shrill reveille's camp-awak'ning bound
Nor bivouac couch'd its starry fires around,
Crested dragoons, grim, veteran grenadiers,
Nor the red lances 'midst a wood of spears
Swarming like purple dowers among the golden ears.
" N ! 'twas an 'infant's image, fresh and fair,
With rosy mouth half-oped, as slumbering there
It lay beneath the smile
Of her whose breast, soft-bending o'er its sleep,
Ling'ring upon that little lip doth keep
One pendant drop the while.
" Then, his sad head upon his hands inclined,
He wept ; that father-heart all unconfined,
Outpoured in love alone.
My blessing on thy clay-cold head, poor child !
Sole being for whose sake his thoughts, beguiled,
Forgot the world's lost throne."