Star.
London, England, 1830-03-25 00:00:00

ROMAN BEGGARS.

The mendicants of Rome generally exercise two
professions—they are beggars in the streets, and
models in the studio of the artist. Idlers—but not
thieves—insolent in the midst of filth—proud of
their rags—they have all the vices of indolence, yet
nothing of that busy, scheming, and dangerous dis-
position to intrigue, of which Lazarillo de Tormes is
the prototype. Rome alone affords such models ; and
Nature has bestowed upon them noble features, vigorous
bodies, with a commanding air and a majestic gait, which
at every step reveals their origin. To despise them is
impossible ; they are not only tolerated, but their inde-
pendence and pride have entitled them to a certain de-
gree of respect.
The celebrated Barbone is the chief of this illustrious
society ; in himself he is Saint Peter, Saint James, Beli-
sarius, Satan, Pluto, St. DominicouldJulius Cesar; he is
a sort of universal historian, who, in lieu of narrating facts,
personates them ; his reputation is great, and what is not
ooinmon, he deserves it; and he is, perhaps, the only hero
in the world whose fame will not suffer on a close ap-
proach. His head, Roman, admirably designed,
and of a character the most noble and expressive,
is crowned with a forest of hair, black as the raven's
win, and covering his shoulders ; fine sparkling eyes,
redundant with life, and indicating, as it were,
the presence and strength of terrible passions—his
height almost superhuman—and his attitudes such as
those in which a classic fancy would invest the forms
of a Coriolanus or a Brutus. His physiognomy is
ferocious—his address courteous—his language laconic,
and not without dignity. He begs—he basks in the
sun, and, when sharply pinched by hunger, he lends
himself to an artist as a model, at the rate of a
scudo s-day ; then he returns to the sun, to enjoy the
wages of what he denominates his labour; which, being
expended, he has recourse to begging; but never to the
artist's studio, excepting as a last resouce, and when
utterly destitute.—Foreign Literary Gazette.

TOTTENHAM THEATRE.—Miss GRADDON was to
have appeared at this little Theatre last evening as Addis in the
flaunted Tower end Apollo in Midas; but in consequence of
a letter received from her,stating that she was indisposed, Mrs.
Waeherr kindly gave ter assistance, and performed with her
usual excellence. The new farce of Speculation seems likely to prove
a good speculation for the management; it has made a great Mt.--
Viet sues performance in this piece is meet talented and effective.
GATTIE is also entitled to much praise for his genuine and hu.
morons delineation of the testy Frenchman.
DISTRESS OF THE COUNTRY.—The. following obser.
rations were made on Tuesday evening, in the House of Commons,
by Sir BUSIZY VTVTAX' la consestuenee of some allusions to
the sentiments uttered by him on a former occasion. He stated
that the Hon. Member for Clare had either very much misunder.
stood what had fallen from him in the course of the observations he
had made on a former night, or had strangely misinterpreted what he
had said (and he would not suppose it possible he could have done
the latter intentionally) ; but he had a right to complain of the
manner in which he had been referred to, and begged to assure
the honourable member, that so fax front in favour of low
wages in the manner represented by hlm,avrtginade it appear he
did not feel for the lower classes, he had never even made use of the
terms " low wages." The purport of his argument had been quite
the reverse of that attributed to him, and the whole course of it was
to show that low prices were in many respects advantageous, be.
cause they enabled us to compete with the foreign manufacturer,
and, consequently, employ the lower classes. As to wages be-
ing high ur low, he could not be ignorant that that was a mat-
terof comparison, dependent on the prices of the unease-
rim of life. He could not sit down without adverting to what the
honourable member had said in iespect to the army. The illustra-
tion the honourable member had recourse to was a most unjust one.
The army, he could confidently say, would at all times be Deter
perform do their duty to their King and country, and they would Deter
perform that duty better than by making cheerfully such sacrifices
as the necessities of the times might call for from them in common
with the rest of their fellow subjects.—Mt. O'Connell, in reply,
said: the honourable and gallant member has misunderstood me.
I did not say that he spoke of law wages ; but he spoke of low
ptlces, and 1 inferred that he contemplated low wages, which is the
necessary consequence of low prices.
Amanita ur Howouß.—At a late hour of Saturday
night information was given at the Police-office that, in consequence
of a horsewhipping match in Peteranreet, on the preceding day,
a duel was to be fought on Sunday morning last, between two'
of the fEsculapimi family, Messrs. P—T and o—o, and that,
the better to elude any unpleasant interference on the part of I
the authorities, one of the intended combatants, Mr. I'. had
changed his lodgings to a house in Capel.strect. The police,
Acting on the friendly hint, set a watch on the lodgings of Mr.
P. during Saturday night, and up to an advanced hour on Sun-
day morning. Their " man," however, did not show himself',
and, of course, escaped, while, in the mean time, his more
lucky opponent had the good jortune to make his appearance, and
to be arrested on the very ground, the " Fifteen Acres," toge.
ther with two friends, by LEONARD, a patrol constable, from
Chapelkod, who took his three prisoners to Arran-quay police_
office, where they were disposed of by the Magisuates in the usual
way—An anonymous letter was received at the head police-office
on Saturday afternoon, mentioning that the writer had that day been
witness to an altercation between a Mr. Cowie/ALL, of the Green,
and another gentleman, which led to the parties exchanging cards—
which circumstance gave the writer the most serious apprehensions
as to the consequences. The writer's fears, however, were, on re-
ceipt of this information, quickly set at rest by the o--riLd un-
called for hurry of peace-officer BRADSHAW, in taking Mr. C. into
custody, and detaining him till he gave bail to keep the peace.—
DeLlin Morning Post.
Busi NESS.—In the wealthy town of M— lived an
oitigentleman of that description of bipeds yclept bachelors, who
fey' many long rebellious years" had withstood tile earnest solicita-
tions of his (female) friends to enter into the state of matrimony.
lately, however, he seemed to regret his long celibacy, and one
evening, his frieuds finding him in an unusually pliable mood,
gathered around him, and at length prevailed upon Lies to "pop the
Tuition" to a neighbouring female, who, they had no doubt, was
LisPostsl to let slip no opportunity of exchanging single blessedness
.14 matrimonial felicity. To this lady, therefore, he " onward
Pease' his way," and knowing from experience the 1, shortness of
time," and having a decided aversion to any thing romantic, he re-
solved to adopt the most concise way of " despatching business."
On knocking at the door, the matron maid presenung herself,
Madins ascertained " her to be her," he proceeded to "explain."
"adah" said he, " my friends wish me to be manied—they
night to ainbider of it: good day, ma'am;"leaving the astonished
damsel to meditate on the proposition. On the eve of the day fort-
night, when she had proved that "hope deferred maketh the heart
sick," a genteel rap was heard at the door, and, with trembling de-
light, she proceeded to open it, when a
voice she had once heard
and never forgotten inquired, " Well, madam, have you decided
:about the business 1 named to you ?" She blushed, and, as la-
sandy sandy as she could, said something about "not wishing to &leo
!3.1!: friends, nor go out of the order of PIOTIDEXCE,
by lute time allowed her," &c. when the gallant suitor cut her short
replying, " Madan), 1 see which way your inclination turns—
this day week we will be married."

TO A CUP OF ALE.

Hy map of ale,--my ;Md. cup !
High sparkling the social drop,
Whos'er could view thy mending top
WP beast unmoved,
Nos long to pledge in one wee sup

- - -
The friends he loved ?
Whoe'er could see thy feathery fain,
Like snow-flake, on the bonnie broom,
Nor think upon the mountain-home

An' friends sas kind,
He left—far o'er the world to roam...

For aye behind ?
Not he—not be, who asks thee now,
Wi' all thy genial, generous glow,
To chase the shadows free his brow,

An' aye restore
The cheerfu' tempered spirits' Bow
He felt don.

To him thy pattering murmurs♦ tell
0' friends an' kindred cherished well ;
Yet sh I these echoes seem the knell

0' joy's decline;
And sadly on the past 1 dwell—
The dear " lang sr* !"
LI.

THE PUBLIC MONEY.