The Sun. — 1844-11-21 (London, England)

STANDARD.—The month of November is generally, we believe, a month pleasant only to the lawyers —unless we are to except certain prowlers upon the public, to whom lengthening of the nights is convenient, whom uncharitable people might be disposed —but we forbear. To the lawyers, the thieves, and Mr. Daniel O'Connell (the reader may refer him to whichkelass his judgment shall direct) is November otherwise than a highly disagreeable month. But upon none, perhaps, does this inclement season fall snore heavily than the poor journalist. Campaigns commence in spring; we are therefore six months removed from wars both a park ante and a parte post. 'l4he sessions of Parliament commence about the beginning- of February, and end about the middle of August ; it is, therefore, too early to discuss future measures—too late to comment upon those already enacted. When to this severity of the season we add a continued state of peace and prosperity, we, surely place the journalist in a pitiable position' —a position "to move the hearts of barbarous peopleand make Tom Butcher weep." There is positively no topic of general interest at this moment, and it would seem to demand a foirteen-Whig-power of mischief—(there were fourteen in the deficit Cabinet)—to produce pkikugh of public calamity to create any sensaOh in this dreary month. In such a state of destitution, what are we to do beyond chronicling " accidents and offences," except we wear out the time in some such sport as roasting a Bishop or wrangling with brother journalists—amusements which may be innocent, but which are not always safe, as we may sometimes burn our fingers with the one, as is known at Printing House-square, or come off secondbest in the other, as the Arcadian twins, the Globe and.llforning Post, are able, if they were willing, to testify. Before proceseding to the subject which suggests these remarks, let us, in candour, say a Word for this same month of November, our enemy though it be. November is notoriously infamous for murders .and suicides, and other like crimes, but we believe the infamy to be, in part at least, unjust. It is not that many more crimes are committed in November, but that the newspapers have more room for the record of them ; and, to speak truth, are more in want of them. Many an atrocity of great pretensions is born to blush unseen, because committed in the heat of some important Parliamentary discussion ; or when the eyes of men are bent upon some anxious trial of foreign or domestic policy. Mr. Thurtell was no doubt a distinguished Whig, and a very eminent ruffian, but even he would probably be now forgotten, if he had not judiciously timed the murder of his friend in the dead season. " Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona Multi ; sod omnes illacrimabiles Urguentur, ignotique Nocte, carent quia Nate sacro." In other words, the newspapers were too full to record their achievements with the proper " penny a-line " emphasis and diffuseness. By the way the "peemy-a-liners" had a project of presentinga piece of plate to Mr. Thprtell, which they, no doubt would have carried into full effect but for an awkward event at Hertford. We now come to the oceasion of our recurrence to the peculiarities of this particular season. Within the last few days mostof the Opposition newspaper's have given intimation of approaching changes in the Cabinet. The Whig-Radical organs, indeed, are not sufficiently political affecting eaw3a • th cious to surmise any change charactert of the Administration ; burkhey Governtnenr.iselves with recasting the parts of the insupapliyewngditshtribiion of its offices. This besides went" of something to write about ff e "wicket some opportunity to insult and ab 11: orlds. a handof her Majesty's advisers in detail. eAl'el and each Niitousty removed from an office hasnlun grahimself wholly unfit for it ; the man as gilTatuitously promoted to the vacant department is of course so promoted because of his unfitness for every other. In this way a falsehood, in itself not very important, is made the occasion for filling a good many columns, with nonsense to be sure, but with nonsense that is sufficiently spiteful to gratify lVhig Radicals, and that other section of miserables whom we suppose we must call Morning Postists, since even Young England has cast them off. Now when any of our friends ask us whether there is any truth in these rumours of Ministerial changes, we reply, as the truth is, that we have no direct knowledge upon the point, but that we have the most firm conviction, short of direct knowledge, that there is not one word of truth in the reports. The first ground of our conviction is the complete harmony that, from the hour of its formation, has constantly prevailed in Sir Robert Peel's Cabinet—harmony so complete, that the Cabinet, we have reason to believe, has not divided as often as it has been years in office. Our second ground of conviction is the perfect satisfaction notoriously given by the head of each department to all his colleagues, and, we may add, to the country. Our third and not least weighty ground of conviction is that at which we hinted at the commencement of this article, the time when the reports take wing. Such reports always come over at this season with the woodcocks and the widgeon, and come from a quarter as uncertain and untraceable as that which serves for the summer abode of our feathered visitors.