The Sun.
London, England, 1845-05-02 00:00:00

DUBLIN UNIVERSITY.

As might be expected, the Maynooth Bill has not
failed to arouse the University to a sense of what it
conceivet to be its duty, and accordingly we have a
very lugubrious article on the effect of the " passing"
measure, upon the efficiency of the Protestant Estab-
lishment in Ireland, written by some twaddling par-
son, who is evidently given more to political disqui-
sition than the " cure of souls." Many a " holy
text" is pressed into service by the writer, and
though we felt it rather hard work to get to the end,
we confess that at the close we enjoyed a hearty
laugh. The benighted Irish, according to him, are
just now on the point of being converted. He con-
tinues :

" Never since the connexion of this country with Eng-
land, was there a period of which it might be more truly
said, 'Lift up your eyes and look upon the fields ; they
are white already for the harvest ;' and' in which the
prayers of the righteous might be more fervently ad-
dressed to the Majesty on high, Pray ye, therefore,
the Lord of the harvest, that he may send forth labour-
ers into the harvest ;' for ' the harvest truly is plen-
teous, but the labourers are few:"
" The labourers few," with a revenue of over half a
million ! ! It would be superfluous to say another
word of the value of the institution. " Tales of the
Trains" is an amusing and well-written sketch, not
very complimentary to railway management„ on the
Continent. " Spanish Romances and Songs is the
fint of a series of translations from the Spanish. They
appear to be happily and faithfully rendered. The
following from the poems of Luis de Camoens is
pretty :
Look, mother ! the mariner's rowing
Ilis galley adown the tide ;
I'll go where the mariner's going,
And be the mariner's bride !
I ,saw,him one day through-the cricket,
I opened the gate and we'met.
As a bird in the fowler's net
Was I caught in my own green thicket.
Oh, mother, my tears are flowing,
They've quenched my maidenly pride—
I'll go, if the mariner's going,
And be the mariner's bride !
This Love, the tyrant, evinces
Alas ! an omnipotent might.
lie darkens the mind like Night,
Ile treads on the necks of princes !
Oh, mother, my bosom is glowing,
I'll go, whatever betide,
I'll go, since the mariner's going,
And be the mariner's bride
Yes, mother ! the Spoiler has reft me
Of reason and self-control •,
Gone, gone is my wretched soul,
And only my body is left me I
The winds, oh mother, are blowing,
The ocean is bright and wide ;
I'll go where the mariner's going,
And be the mariner's bride !
In " Personal Recollections of Thomas Campbell,
Esq.," we have some revelations of the private life of
the late poet, which, if true, exhibit him in a most
unamiable light—cold, selfish, and ungenial. Can
we believe that he ever thought—much less avowed
—as the writer of this article asserts, that Byron was
a liar, a blackguard, a ruffian, a writer of low satire
and a dunce—a very speller of Virgil. A second
article on the Italian poet' discusses points connected
with the life of Tasso, with which every one is
acquainted, but throws no new light on the subject.
" The Nevilles of Garret ,town increases in interest
as the tale proceeds. The review of " O'Connor's
History of the Irish Brigade" we have perused with
great interest and satisfaction. It is a temperate and
well-considered article. What irresistible evidence
does it not afford of the supreme folly of governing,
or rather trying to hold Ireland on any other tenure
than that of doing her full and complete
,justice. On
the whole, the articles in the University for this
month are of a fair average quality.

-._____.--_-_—_-- ----- ~.,
THE PENNY DUKE OF DUCKINGLIAM.—At the
Buckingham Sessions—as we learn from the Aylesbury News—the
chivalrous, the magnificent, the battue-loving Buckingham, pro-
secuted
amount
of on
one Ce parry!"alebßlackwell, for "having damaged a fence, to the
Blackwell, it appears, was a poacher, and
had twice before been summarily convicted. Whereupon, for the
thatite the Duke of ly
third offence, he was sentenced to " four months' imprisonment
whipped!" And yet
therewith haarred falsifying labour, anpde 0
it,ol
el,)e whoonceo
a, privately ,
Bucking-
ham is not beloved by the peasantry. Scandalous malignity! Do
is beloved; and henceforth, let his reputation, like the namesf
Whittington, go down to posterity, for ever associated with a cat,—
Punch.