The Sun. — 1848-10-03 (London, England)

FROM A CORRESPONDENT.)  Monday, the 10th April, 1848, a day for ever memorable in the history of the country, is a day to which every Englishman will recur with heartfelt exultation. It was a day which instantaneously dispelled the long-gathering mists of apprehension, and (as Mr. MACAULAY has it), amid the crash of empires, and the fall of thrones, attested the security of the British Constitution. Such were the happy consequences of Monday, the 10th April; but very different are the feelings with which we shall recur to Saturday, the 30th September. In our opinion, the events of the latter day for ever tarnish the glory of the preceding. On the 10th of April the Chartists met with the fate their folly well deserved ; on the 20th September, on the contrary, they have been visited with a severity most uncalled for and most unjustifiable. The Chartists have been condemned to transportation for life ! to transportation for life, all but the severest penalty which the law can inflict—te transportation for life, which is now generally deemed severe enough for the murderer ! The severity of the sentence fills us with astonishment ; with astonishment and sorrow—and, we might add, with indignation also—but that we cannot believe that it will be really carried into effect. We cannot, we will not, believe it possible that under the auspices of a Liberal Government—of a Russell Government—such an act of unnecessary tyranny will really be carried into execution. Of unnecessary tyranny, we say advisedly, for nothing can ever justify or sanction tyranny but necessity. The legitimate objects of the Chartists are progressing towards their attainment in a manner more consonant with the dignity ;of the interests they concern. The National Convention has done its worst, the monster petition is forgotten, or only remembered to be ridiculed. The triumph of peace and order throughout the British dominions is assured. Is this a time when arbitrary measures are sanctioned by expediency ? Not so. A worse moment could not by possibility have been selected. In the universal triumph  of liberal principles, when thrones sacred by age, and Monarchs and Ministers, venerable for sagacity, are overthrown and annihilated because they presume to infringe upon the popular liberties, this inauspicious moment is seized upon by the liberal Government of England—a Government, be it remembered, which came into office by opposing Sir ROBERT PEEL'S Coercion Bill this moment is seized upon for the execution of an act of injustice, which, were they in opposition, that minority would be the loudest to denounce and the most vehement to oppose. But we are loath to bring ourselves to such a belief—it will not be so. The sentence has been passed, why we will not pretend to say ; but the sentence is not yet carried into execution. There is yet time for the extension of the saving hand. There is yet time for the exercise of mercy and of justice also, and that mercy and that justice will not fail to be exercised if the Government but recal to mind the liberal principles to which they have pledged themselves—if they will but ask themselves how they would act if in opposition now. And, by the way, we would advise them not to let the acts of a Whig Ministry be always so much less liberal than the acts of a Whig Opposition, or the country will begin to reflect that, to all intents and purposes, the latter is productive of more public benefit than the former.