The Sun. — 1841-09-01 (London, England)

MAGAZINE DAY.  BLACKWOOD' S MAGAZINE.  As usual, there are some amusing inconsistencies in Maga's political article this month. In .‘ Lessons from the Past," after assuring us that the " English Constitution, the boast of the patriot and the pride of the historian during so many ages, sunk to the dust" at the period when the Reform Bill was carried, the writer goes on to assure us that this defunct Constitution is just as well as ever, and as strong and hearty as.if nothing had ever ailed it ! Never was there such a phenomena as this same Constitution! It has actually as many lives as a cat. The Tories confess to its having been put to death not less than three times within the last twelve or fourteen years, yet now they tell us with all the gravity imaginable that it is in the enjoyment of excellent health ! Though we differ from the majority of the opinions put forth in " Lessons from the Past," here is one in the spirit of which we cordially agree :—" The Conservatives," says the writer," "have many lessons of wisdom to learn." They have indeed, for' hitherto they have shown themselves but indifferently furnished with political sagacity. Every great national question brought forward since the memorable year 1829 has tended only to bewilder, instead of to ett. lighten, their understanding. They have 'been standing in a state of stupid perplexity, while the world was in active, fbrward motion about them. Henceforth, they must either make up their minds to accommodate their ideas of legislation to those of the day, or elm consent to be shuffled aside as so much worthless lumber. There is no longer time fin-hesitation. They must decide Itt- oncei fbr, *bile they are considering; the Olden opportunity is passing, never to return. .The "World of London" is a lively, shrewd essay. HoW just is this 'reniark !—" There is no town's talk in. London ; your provincial lion is here a very tame beast, and let -him roar ever so loud, not a soul will think more of his roaring than of the rumbling of a cart." London is indeed the best of all places to cure a man's self-conceit. Here, he is sure to rise or fall to his proper level. The metropolis is no respecter of persons. It thinks no more of a duke than a dustman. We quote some amusing thoughts on suicide from this entertaining essay : When Saul Patch, the American, hanged himself, by way of a lark, upon Waterloo-bridge, (by the way, what, may we ask, became of the inquiry, whether or no the Directors sanctioned that 4isgusting exhibition ?) we happened to have occasion te walk up the Waterlooroad about ten minutes after--the untoward event ; the crowd had already dispersed, but some stray sentences dropped by the passers-by induced us to imagine something interesting might have occurred. Laying down sixpence to pay our toll, while waiting the change, we took occasion to inquire of the gate-keeper what was the matter. 11" Only a Yankee diver hanged hisself on the bridge, Sir—all right !" replied the functionary ; whether the " all right" referred to the propriety of Sam Patch acting as his own hangman upon this occasion, or to the correctness of the change tendered me by the gate-keeper, I cannot say ; however that may be, I could not help censuring the fully of Sam Patch in executing himself in London, where, not merely the manner of his death, but his previous existence, was forgotten in some seconds less than five minutes ; whereas, had he onl3 taken the trouble to strangulate himself in Edinburgh or Dublin,. he would have been talked of for a week, and remembered for a fortnight. Songs would have been sung, and sermons made, about him ; public meetings would have been called to petition Parliament against capital punishments. Patch would have become a household word, and his effigy would have been seen in every shop hanging in mezzotinto ; we would have had the Sam Patch quadrilles, and the Sam Patch magic strop, and the Sam Patch cravats ; in short, if Sam had any sense, he might have been not only notorious. in. himself, but the cause of notoriety in ushers: It is, therefore, sheer folly in intending suicides to think of creating a' sensation by performing their antics in London. Rhadamanthus Wakley, sitting in judgment on half a score corpses a clay, or thereabouts, cannot confer upon all an immortality : tumbling " from the monument" even has lost its novelty, and is now considered by the town a very "slow" way of cutting one's self off. No suicide, therefore, who cannot strike out a new line of bold; dashing, and original felo de ce has the chance even of seeing his inquest headed " Suicide Extraordinary." We therefore recommend all daring spirits, ambitious of immortality by hanging or otherwise, to take themselves off tOthe country, where a sensation is worth any money,. and where they will have twelve columns of inqUest in the county papers." The " Picture of Danae " is a translation from a German drama by Deirihardstein. We cannot vouch for the accuracy of the. version, as we are unacquainted with the original play; but the blank verse is spirited and melodious, and some of the imagery is far above common place. " Royal Academy, &c.," is a notice of some of the more prominent pictures in the late exhibition. The criticism on the whole is just—so far at least as our recollection serves us—but it is somewhat out of date. Instead of thinking of the past, the public is now looking 'forward to the next exhibition. " Biron and the Bastille " is an instinctive historiette, enlivened with sketches of character. The " Fowler" is a .poem by Delta. It is in his pleasantest manner. •In the article entitled " Sir Robert Peel's Position on next Resuming Power," we have-an elaboratelydrawn character of the Right lion. Baronet, which is not a little at variance with the account given of him in this very Magazine, immediately after the passing of the Catholic Emancipation. He was then a rat—an apostate. He is now a firm, upright statesman ; the very one to whom, of all others, may be most fitly entrusted the destinies of the empire. • " Good Bye to the Whigs" is a smart, satirical farewell to the displaced Ministry.