The Sun. — 1836-03-30 (London, England)

NAZARETH.  I perceived at my feet at the bottom of a valley hollowed out like a basin or a small lake, the white and gracefully grouped houses of Nazareth on the two side, and at the extremity of this basin. The Greek church, the high minaret of the Turkish mosque, the long thick walls of the convent of the Latin fathers, were all at once perceptible ; a few streets formed of smaller houses, but of an elegant and oriental shape, were grouped round these larger edifices and animated with the noise and the movements of life. All around this valley or basin of Nazareth were seen clumps of the high thorny nopal ; fig trees deprived of their autumnal leaves, with green and yellow light-leaved pomegranates—the whole giving a freshness and a grace to the landscape, like the flowers of the field round a village altar. God alone knows what passed at that moment in my heart ; but by spontaneous, and, as it were, an involuntary movement, I found myself on my knees, at the feet of my horse, upon one of the blue and dusty paths of the precipice we were descending. I remained, I suppose, several minutes in silent contemplation, wherein all the thoughts of my life as a Sceptic or a Christian, rushed upon my mind with such confusion, that it was impossible to class them ; these words alone escaped my lips :—" And the word was made flesh, and dwelt amongst us." I pronounced them with the sublime, profound, and trrateful sentiment they are calculated to inspire : the place,b indeed, suggests them so naturally, that I was struck, on arriving in the evening at the sanctuary of the Latin Church, to find them engraven in letters of gold on the marble table of the subterranean altar, in the house of Mary and Joseph. Having made this exclamation, bowing my head respectfully to the earth which had given birth to Christ, I kissed it in silence, and moistened with tears of repentance, of love, and hope, that soil which had seen so many shed, which has imbibed so many, and from which I invoked a portion of truth and love.—La Martine.  David Anthony, who was found guilty at Down Assizes on Thursday of the murder of William Ryan, at Newry, on the 15th of December last, was executed on Saturday in front of Downpatrick Gaol. Anthony, although young in years, was old in crime. He had been engaged in upwards of 40 robberies, but stated that he never had imbrued his hands in blood before the last fatal transaction, and that  be had no intention at the time of killing Ryan, but that be  was determined, in case of resistance, to take the life of his  victim.  He confessed the crime for which he was to suffer  some time after his condemnation.—lrish Paper.  The late mysterious affair in L-e, which has terminated so fatally, still continues an engrossing theme of conversation. The general statement seems to be that the unfortunate lady, who had been married but a few years, had suffered, uncomplainingly, extreme personal cruelty; and after her demise there were marks of injuries discovered, which tended to prove the assertion. Her father had at length resolved to withdraw her from this unfortunate union ; but it was then too late, as she died heart broken within five days after her removal. This is the form in which the tragic story has gone abroad, the accuracy of which none but the parties themselves can decide ; but we sincerely hope, when the first gi ief for her loss is over, that some statement may be made which will place the matter in ale is painful point of view than  at present.