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Jm 5, 185?. THE _ STAB OF FREEDOM. 3
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IITERATURE. floetrg.
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THE MAN WHO SLEW WAT TYLER. tl rte dinne...
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SOXG OF THE SERF. i. Revel on! revel on ...
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ftcln'etos.
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Ia an age when independence of principle...
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A BATCH OF BOOKS ! The Mystery of the Da...
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Verdicts. London: Effingham Wilson. Cole...
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A Life of Xicolo Paganini. By Giancarlo ...
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Poems and Songs of Pierre Dupont. Second...
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Zdtgba the Girsr. By Annette Maria Maill...
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The Triumph! or the Coming Age op Christ...
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A Grammar op the Hungarian Language, wit...
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Confessions of a Workman. By Emile Souve...
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The Bedouin and other Poems. By T W Wood...
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ClARET AND OlWES, FROil THE GrARONNE TO ...
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BOOKS AND PERIODICALS RECEIVED. Thb Fobi...
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OUR $ett*»ttte$jtt& fortvait &altoj>.
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SHORT SKETCHES. Richard Cobdbn, M. P. Co...
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WlLIUM AVIOUN . Though not so generally ...
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George Dawson. This popular lecturer was...
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Gottfried Kinkel. Kinkel, tha German pat...
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THE COUNTESS OP RUDOLSTADT. [Sequel to "...
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Opening of tub Sudsiarine Tblkoraph Betw...
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Transcript
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Jm 5, 185?. The _ Stab Of Freedom. 3
Jm 5 , 185 ? . THE STAB OF FREEDOM . 3
Iiterature. Floetrg.
IITERATURE . floetrg .
The Man Who Slew Wat Tyler. Tl Rte Dinne...
THE MAN WHO SLEW WAT TYLER . tl rte dinner of the Worshipful Company , of Fish . At « on May 26 , his Excellency , the American Mmjn ° S Alimented that " ancient corporation" fornnro-»?• ° , mK membera " The Man who slew Wat Toler . " j ^ rmg a u " s ___ , The peop le's leader faced the kino . The Commons * right he pleaded ; i 5 Curry knave broke through the ring , * j ^ nd stab'd him , basely he did . Here EishmouRer ' . a word with you ; Sow , man ! don't burst your biler , But own a gallows was the due Of him who slew Wat Tyler .
Let ' s hope that your fishmongrel Co . Dare other ground of glory ; For W alworth ' s was a coward blow , — Read e en Hume ' s courtly story . You Yankee Xigger-driver , yoa Just barken to a riler ; And conscience flog you not a few : Tour fellow slew Wat Tyler . Let honest freemen scorn the slave , Why stabb'd the people ' s leader ; But double loathing brand the knave , Who plays assassin ' s pleader I When slavering lies can damn the True , And Vile be saved by Viler , Then , Yankee Snob ! we'll praise , with you , Tho man who slew Wat Tyler . Spabiacbs
Soxg Of The Serf. I. Revel On! Revel On ...
SOXG OF THE SERF . i . Revel on ! revel on in your old stone tower , \ nd smile as you will at your ancient power . Aye ! pour oat the wine and blaspheme God , While you crush his image to the sod ! In Tain do you lift the serried steel , For the thunder roars with a bursting peal , And the lig htning Sashes in and out , With a laugh and a groan and a giant shout , Do ye think tbat the steel shall destroy iu power In the fearful tout of the coming hour ?
ii Eevel on ! revel on ! we hare waited long , And writhed like a worm under feudal wrong , We hare fed your veins with tbe strength of ours , We bare built with our groans your iron towers : Bat a stern , deep voice comes rushing down Like the voice of God with a " Woe to the Crown j * We have heard the mighty music roll Like a surging sea through the Vassal ' s soul ; And an answer sweeps through tbe troubled night , With a shout for the voice and a shoot for tbe Right
Kevel on ! revel on ! while yet you may ' . Glitter on I glitter on . ' in your bright array I Hear ye not ! hear ye not through your marble arcb , The iron tramp of the Million ' s march ? See ye not tbat the flame of our vengeance plays . In your hall like a Volcan ' s lurid blaze-When the earthquake wakes in a giant-start , And breaks the chain which has bound its heart !
IV . Revel on ! revel on ! in your olden power , For we bide with a smile the coming hour ! Oh ! God-like soul ; you may struggle long And wearily wrestle—through woe and wrong-Bat tho rainbow bright of hurrying years Will be woven at last from a nation's tears—When the storms bave rolled and the fire o God Hath blazed in its might o er tbe darkling sod .
Ftcln'etos.
ftcln ' etos .
Ia An Age When Independence Of Principle...
Ia an age when independence of principle consists in having no principle on which to depend , and free-thinking , not in thinking freely , bat in being free from thinking;—in an age when men tnB held any thing except their tongues , keep anything except lheir word , and lose nothing patiently , except their character ; to improve such an age mast be difficult , to instruct it dangerous ; ana he stands no chance of amending it who cannot at the same time amuse it
A Batch Of Books ! The Mystery Of The Da...
A BATCH OF BOOKS ! The Mystery of the Daxube . By David TJrquhart , Esej ., M . P . London : Bradbury and Evans . Whatever may be thought of Mr . Urquhart ' s sentiments , his talents , and the earnest sincerity with which he has devoted them to advance his views , must command respect . He is pretty generall y known as the zealous opponent of Russian ambition , and ia the work under notice , he reviews our dip lomatic , commercial , and political policy , with regard to that srim and g igantic power , the barbarian of the 2 ? orth f This is becoming a question of most vital import , even to those who are not the advocates of Democracy , and who sink the idea of Humanity's advancement in that of the progress and profit of Trade . Russia is laying her mighty hands
on the strongholds of Europe , with such alarming swiftness and subtlety , that England may well fear her constant advances , and wonder what will be the next aggression . Poland , so rich and fertile by nature , is like a wilderness ; her golden grain and luscious wealth of fruits , are trodden and trampled beneath the grinding hoof of Eussian oppression . Hungary lies crushed and bleeding ; the Danubian Principalities are fettered ; and the export trade of Turkey arrested ; and unless England comes out of the unholy pact , gathers up her strength , and joins the warriors for Freedom , she herself will fall before . this Mammoth Tyranny . This book of Mr . Urquhart ' s is another warning . Will she take heed in time ?
Verdicts. London: Effingham Wilson. Cole...
Verdicts . London : Effingham Wilson . Coleridge relates that he was once standing gazing on a glorious scene of the mountains of Scotland . All around was solemn and grand ; the silver mists of morning were rolling up like a crown of glory on the lofty brow of an old mountain that stood in the magnificence of morning , worshi pping in its reli gion of silence ! At some distances waterfall came leaping over the rocks in sparkling splendour as of a thousand lightnings , and dashed down in thunderdown , down , from ledge to ledge—until , its bubbling gurgling merriment , ran through the green grasses and the mosses of the glen with endless laughter . With an adoring spirit he silentl y drank inas with
, a myriad senses , the rich draughts of pleasure which nature gives with such silent magnanimity , when , suddenly , the wondrous charm was broken by a voice at his side , exclaiming , ' It ' s werry pretty , ain't it , sir ? It proceeded from a Cockney Tourist , who had thus criticised that scene . Some such feeling as Coleridge must then have experienced we felt on reading these' Verdicts' on the Poets . In both cases , the heroes are nameless , and their critical powers are on an equality . This author has not the remotest sense of rythm nor melody ; and yet he dares to croak like a very raven about divinely melodious Shelley , Hear him!—
This was Truth ' s moat true follower , and dared to obey , AH bis thought dreamed it e ' er heard ber holy lips say ; So he swept , in her name , all foul things from bis path , With a love for all right that to all wrong grew wrath , That drove him strange frenzy and wild words to deal On deceits , with a fierceness 'twas strange be could feel ; Yet not strange . He has neither wit , sarcasm , nor analy tical power ; and yet he presumes to judge of the great Poets of this century , and award his 'Verdict . ' There are geniuses who cannot move without making music , and there are animals who make a clatter with tin kettles tied to their tails ! Reader , draw j our own inference .
A Life Of Xicolo Paganini. By Giancarlo ...
A Life of Xicolo Paganini . By Giancarlo Conestible . Perugia . 8 vo . Who has not heard of Pagauini and bis marvellous performance on the violin ? Doubtless some of our readers may remember the / wore which he created in England , and some will bave seen that weird figure , £ ith its long black hair , skeleton-like hands , and bird-like fingers , and those eyes , lighted with such strange fire . For ourselves we have onl y heard of these things , and of the wondrous effects of his playing . How the amateur tympanum and catgut torturers went home from listening to his passionate performance to smash their instruments and give up 111 despair , while others averred that it was some
wailing spirit they heard in the unearthl y sounds * bich he could evoke . We learn from this work ™ t Paganini was born at Genoa , in the year 1 / 84 . ¦ His mother is said to have been a lover of music , and ° o one occasion addressed her son thus : — « M y son , "ion shaft become a great musician ; for an angel , jj tiiant with beanty , appeared to me this ni ght , and ft 15 tened to tue prayer I made him . I prayed him JJat thou mayst become the first of violinists , and 2 ° has promised it shall be so . * At the end of hn « . concerts in Paris , Rossini waa asked what wL ^ Pa ganim , when he replied , 'Ihave ept omy three times in mv life ; the first time when
A Life Of Xicolo Paganini. By Giancarlo ...
my first opera fell to the ground on the first repre * sentation ; the second , when being out in a boat with some friends , a truffled turkey we were to have eaten fell into the water ; and the third when I heard Paganini for the first time . ' Paganini was very superstitious , and it is said that he believed the soul of his mother to be shut up in his instrument . It was at Lucca that he first played on the immortal one string . He was director of the opera at that place , and was frequentl y called upon to play before the court . The Princess Eliza always retired before the conclusion , because , as she said , the harmonious sounds of his violin agitated her nerves too keenly .
Here he fell in love with a lady whom he promised to surprise , and on the day of the conceit , he entered with an instrument which had but two strings . Ho played a brilliant scena , which was wondrously successful . The Princess Eliza said to him' You have done the impossible with two strings , would not one suffice ? ' He promised to try , the idea haunted his mind , and at length , having composed a sonata , he attempted the one string , and his success far outstripped his own expectations . We shall not have space to follow him through his marvellous career . He was once asked how he produced his wonderful
effects , when he replied , smiling , 'Every one has his secrets , my dear sir . ' He came to England in 1831 , and his tour throug h the country was a series of astounding triumphs . Tha most exorbitant prices were paid for admission to his concerts . This magic tickler of the Cremona also managed to tickle immense sums of money out of the people wherever he went . He died May 27 th , 1840 , leaving a large fortune . This book , beside its value as a biograph y and a full and complete collection of Pa amniana , contains a good account of the state of music in Ital y at the period oi which it treats J
Poems And Songs Of Pierre Dupont. Second...
Poems and Songs of Pierre Dupont . Second Edition . Paris : Gamier Brothers , 1851 . We noticed these poems and lyrics in the « Friend of the People ; ' but , as many of our readers were not subscribers to that serial , we would make a few remarks here respecting this poet of the people . Dupont is a workihg man and a Socialist . He shares the love and admiration of his countrymen , even with Beranger himself ; indeed , he is next of kin to tbat poet , and sits at his rig ht hand on his proud eminence in the heart of his nation . Dupont is a singer of nature ' s own grand crowning , and is essentially the poet of the hour . He sings , and France listens !
Pierre Dnpont is the Burns of France , and fills the position in its literature which the glorious Mossgiel ploughman so nobly fills in ours . He is as yet but thirty-one years of age , having been born in 1821 . His father and mother were hard-working people , and he ia proud to own his ancient and honourable pedigree of Toil . His first songs were rural and love lyrics—he is devotedly attached to the country . His song of' The Oxen' first made him famous ; but he has written some of the finest political songs of onr epoch ; he soon began to yearn to work , and do his part in the redemption of the time , so his Republicanism and Socialism burst into song . Before the Revolution of 1848 , he had written his celebrated ' Song of Bread' one day when bread was dear , also his splendid ' Song of the Workers . ' With the Revolution his voice rang ont clear and melodiously in its
tyrant-quailing demand for Freedom and Right-Liberty , Equality , and Fraternity . Pierre Dupont is very popular amongst the workmen . He frequently sings his own sosgsS o his own music amcag ^ , them with marvellous and electrical effect . Lately , M . Achille Jubinal , of Paris , gave a soiree to celebrate the release of the poet , whom he had been successful in freeing from the prison where Bonaparte had cast him . Here Dupont sang his latest compositions—the ' Sapins , ' the Tonneaux , ' & c , which are said to be marvellous poems . All who know him speak of him as a true and fiery-hearted man , and a high-natured , generous fellow . A friend of ours promised us to render into English , for the benefit of our readers , some of the beautiful and melodious ly rics of Pierre Dupont ; may we here remind him of his kind offer , and express a hope that he will redeem his promise ?
Zdtgba The Girsr. By Annette Maria Maill...
Zdtgba the Girsr . By Annette Maria Maillard . London ; G . Routledge , 2 , Farringdon-street . To any person who may be fond of reading a tale of stirring interest , fall of warring passions , and not tedious with attempts at description , and hysterical clutches at the sublime , we can promise a rich treat in the reading of this Zingra the Gipsy . Zingra , the heroine , is a glorious creature ; we never saw such a g ipsy , and are glad to have met with such a one as
we find here drawn , living with fleah-ana-blood distinctness , a magnificent child of nature ! Wild as the woods , pure as the sky , and noble as love can make those on whom it drops ita crown of all Humanity She is the central sun of attraction in the novel , and the other characters are naturally made to revolve around her naturally . We do not think so much of Kendall Field—he is too imbecile ; we could have almost wished that some brave true heart had borne
her out of his hands , and revenged ns on his weakness and lazy procrastination . Julia Aldridge is a character from the life , with her shallow babbling beanty , which , like a shallow river , arrests the impetuous plunge of the daring lover , and leaves him stunned on its cold stoney bottom . Brunt is finel y drawn—how noble and radiant his unrequited eternal love shines out through the great and g lorious spirit of self-sacrifice . Altogether , the work is full of motion and vitality , and one of the very best issued by Mr . Rootledge in his shilling library . The name of the authoress is quite new to us . If this be her first work , we can only say it promises well .
The Triumph! Or The Coming Age Op Christ...
The Triumph ! or the Coming Age op Christianity . Edited by J . M . Morgan . London : Longman , Brown , Green , and Longmans . The work , rejoicing in this magnificent title , consists of selections from authors , chiefly religious and philosophical , illustrating the necessity of early and consistent training of children ; also the necessity of an undivided interest amongst all the members of society , and is collected by Minter Morgan . Among other authors Shakespeare , Cowper , Shelley , and Baxter are largely drawn npon ; and Mr . Morgan himself contributes a considerable portion of the work . It is not calculated to advance the fame of the
author of the * Revolt of the Bees , ' and * Hampden in the nineteenth Century ; ' but , he has himself castrated his own works , and made an Eunuch of his Socialism . Mr . Morgan is now a Church of England Socialist ! We cannot help thinking that established Socialism and the Established Church will not be in existence on the same day . There are some good things in the book , a few of which we may quote hereafter .
A Grammar Op The Hungarian Language, Wit...
A Grammar op the Hungarian Language , with Ap « propriateExercises , a Copious Vocabulary andSpecimens of Hungarian Poetry . B y Sigismund Wekey . Late Aide-de-Camp to Kossuth . London : Trelawney Saunders , 6 , Charing Cross , This , we believe , is the first Hungarian Grammar published in England ; and a friend assures us that it is clear , concise , and luminous—in every way a trustworthy guide , and a firstrate book . This will afford a splendid opportunity for those who wish to learn the noble Hungarian language , as there are Hungarian
Refugees competent to teach it , and with the aid of this grammar it might speedily be spoken . Even where this is impracticable , the student might acquire a knowledge of the language , which would enable him to converse with its master-minds , and open up to him rich stores of au unexplored and almost unknown literature . The Hungarian tongue is wealth y in traditions and poetry , and would gloriously repay the outlay of time in learning it . The book is perspicuously arranged , beautifully printed , and contains some cap ital specimens of Hungarian poetry .
Confessions Of A Workman. By Emile Souve...
Confessions of a Workman . By Emile Souvestre . Paris . Our readers will have heard of that favourite illustration of the' Times ' regarding Communism , in which it relates how a patriotic French workman , calling a company of . oucriers round him , tore up his blouse into strips , and distributing them to the crowd , remarked , triumphantl y , 'that my friends is Communisim . ' Somewhat akin to this logic , is the
moral of this book which is directed against Socialism . The author would have us to make the best of things as they are , in order that they may remain so , and seems to think that honest pushing industry may do pretty well in the world , bad as it is . H $ reminds us of John Cassel , who would have men become Teatotollers for the purpose of eking out their means , to make ends meet , and thus become contented with our present state of societary . Wh y , our taskmasters
Confessions Of A Workman. By Emile Souve...
could wish for nornrog oewer . *' or ourselves w would not lend a hand to prevent an explosion of th whole system to-morrow !
The Bedouin And Other Poems. By T W Wood...
The Bedouin and other Poems . By T W Wood , Esq ., !! London : Hope and Co . ' , ' Poetrt . must be exquisite , or it is nothing . If a man can throw up two or three i deas , or even half a dozen , as the Jugg ler does his brass balls , be , now-adays , sets up for a Poet ; but this slei ght of hand is not poetry . Poetry is something which could not have been uttered in prose , it bubbles from the soul into music an naturally as rich notes flow from the sky lark . It speaks in no other language than that of song fulness . Now , there is nothing in this volume which mig ht not have been uttered in prose . There is no orig inality— -nonew ideas—nor combinations of ideas , and neither inspiration nor aspiration , Mr . Wood is not a Poet , only a Poetaster ! There are thousands such fring ing wretched prose with indifferent rhyme at this moment in . England . Melanchol y thou g ht I
Claret And Olwes, Froil The Graronne To ...
ClARET AND OlWES , FROil THE GrARONNE TO THE R h one ; or , Notes , Social , Picturesque , and Legendary by the Way . By A . B . Reach . Bogue , Fleet-street . Angus B . Reach is a merry , witty , interesting writer , somewhat of the Albert Smith school , and is sure to write an interesting book , no matter what the subject may be . He has written in all kinds of literaturefrom the magazine article to the drama for the stage . Some few years since be joined the ' Morning Chronicle' newspaper , and was engaged to write that portion of 'Labour and the Poor ' consisting of the manufacturing and mining districts of England . He also wrote thirty letters on the state of Agriculture , & c , in France . The present work consists of some of those letters expanded and reprinted , together with other interesting notes , observations , and descriptions ,
which remained in his mind for future working up . He is a frank , honest , and pleasant fellow , who tells you what he has seen , and gives you his real impres . sions without any cant , rant , or ' throwing the hatchet . ' He has a quick perception of the picturesque , happy traits and touches , shrewd insight , and a searching spirit of observation . His book abounds in naivo humour and p ictorial descriptions , and is rich in anecdote and legendary lore . He visited Jasmin , the provincial Poet , that fine specimen and g lorious remnant of the old Troubadours , and his description of tbe Bard , his manners , and his poetry , is one of the best chapters in the book . He visited the Poet Reboul , who is a baker at Nianies , and lives by selling rolls , but he was from home . He translates the following characteristic couplets of the Poet ' s , on that city of the crusades , Aigues-Mortes : —
See , from the stilly waters , and above the sleepy swamp , Where , steaming up , the fever-fog rolls grim , and grey , and damp : How tbe holy , royal city—Aigues-Mortes , that silent town , Looms like the ghost of Greatness , and of Pride that ' s been pulled down , See bow its twenty silent towers , with nothing to defend , Stand up like ancient coffins , all grimly set on end ; With ruins all around them , for , sleeping and at rest , Lies the life of that old city , like a dead owl in its neat » Like the shrunken , sodden body , so ghastly and so pale , Of a warrior who baa died , and who has rotted iu his mail-Like the grimly-twisted corpse of a nun within her pall , Whom they bound , and gagged , and built , all living , in a wall .
Our author was considerably disappointed with the vine districts , and the following does certainly take the poetry out of tho vintage : — The process of wine-making is universal in France . Now , very venerable and decidedly picturesque as is the process of wine-treading , it is unquestionably rather a filthy one ; and the spectacle of great brown horny feet , not a whit too clean , splashing and sprawling in the bubbling juice , conveys at first sight a qualmy speoies of feeling , which , however , seems only to be entertained by those to whom the sight is new , I looked dreadfully askance at the operation
when I first came across it ; and when I was invited—by a lady , too—to taste the juice , of which she caught up a glassful , a certain uncomfortable feeling of the inward man warred terribly against politeness . But nobody around seemed to be in the least squeamish . Often and often did I see one of the heroes of the tub walk quietly over a dunghill , and then jump—barefooted , of course , as he was—into the juice ; and even a vigilant proprietor , who was particularly careful that no bad grapes went into the tub , made no objestjJB Wewist conclude with the following comic descri ption of a whole population on stilts : —
The novelty of a population upon stilts—men , women , and children , spurning the ground , and living habitually four or five feet higher than the rest of mankind—irresistibly takes the imagination , and I leant anxiously from the carriage to catch the first glimpse of a Landean in his native sty le . I looked long in vain , At last I was gratified ; as the train passed not very quickly along a jungle of bushes and coppice-wood , a black , shaggy figure rose above it , as if he were standing upon the ends of the twigs . The effect was quite eldritob . We saw him but ns a vision , but the high coniole hat with broad brims , like Mother Red-cap ' s , the swarthy , bearded face , and the rough , dirty , sheep-skin , which hung fleecily from the shoulders of the apparition , haunted me . He was come and gone , and that was all .
Presently , however , the natives began to heave in sight in sufficient profusion . There were three gigantic looking figures stalking together across an expanse of dusky heath . I thought them men , and rather tall ones ; but my companions , more accustomed to tbe sight , said they were boys on comparatively short stilts , herding the sheep , which were scattered like little greyish stones all over the waste . Anon , near a cottage , we saw a woman , in dark , coarse clothes , with shortish petticoats , sauntering almost four feet from tbe ground , and next beheld at a distance , and on tho summit of a sand-ridge , relieved against the sky , three
figures , each leaning back , and supported , as it eeemev , not only by two * , daddy long-legs'' limbs , but by a third which appeared to grow out of the small of their backs . The phenomenon was promptly explained by my Moused cicerone , who seemed to feel especial pleasure at my interest in the matter . The third leg was a polo or staff the people carry , with a new moon-shaped crutch at the top , which , applied to tbe back , serves as a capital prop . With his legs spread out , and his back stay firmly pitched , the shepherd of the Landes feels as much at home as you would in the easiest of easy chairs .
Books And Periodicals Received. Thb Fobi...
BOOKS AND PERIODICALS RECEIVED . Thb Fobibiss op Komarou ( Cohosh ) Daring the War of Independence in Hungary in 1848-49 . By Colonel Sigismund Thaly . London : James Madden , 8 , Leaden * hall-street . Sokos _*» Poems ot Pibbbh Dupour . Second Edition . Paris : Gamier Brothers . Glaum ahd Oiivbs . By A . B . Reach . London : Bogue , Fleet-street . Thb Roman . Second Edition . London : Bentley . Lowell's Poems . Boston : Tioknor and Co . Songs op Labour . By Whittier . Boston : Tioknor and Oo . London : John Chapman . Thb Triumph ! ob the Coming Aob op Christianity . London : Longman , Brown , Green , and Longmans . Thb Mtbkry . op thb Dan obb . By David Urquhart , Esq ., M . P . London : Bradbury and Evans . Lira op N . Paoanihi . Perugia , 1851 . The Bedouin and other Poems . By T . Wood , Esq .
London : Hope and Co . The Bible and the Working Classes . By Alexander Wallace . Edinburgh . London ; Hamilton , Adams and Co . Da . Skbltos ' s Fami ly . Medical Adviser . London : Watson . The Republic , edited by W . J . Linton . London : Watson . Sermons by the Rev . Charles Kingsley * London , Griffin , Baker-street . Db . Skbltos ' s Botanic Record . London : Watson ; -
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OUR $ ett *» ttte $ jtt & fortvait & altoj > .
Short Sketches. Richard Cobdbn, M. P. Co...
SHORT SKETCHES . Richard Cobdbn , M . P . Cobden was born at Midhurst , Sussex , in the year 1800 ; his father was a small farmer , and Cobden left home early in life to serve in a London warehouse ; if we are not mistaken , it was that of the Messrs . Lyddiard , Friday-street , City . Here he rose rapidly , and by his energy and skill was soon enabled to commence business for himself . This he did in partnership with Messrs . Sherriff and Foster , Lancashire . In this concern he soon won a reputation for producing more tasteful styles in printed cottons than moat of the Manchester houses , which brought great prosperity of trade . In his leisure hours he found time to write a pamphlet entitled
" England , Ireland , and America , and one on * ' Russia , " which attracted some attention at the time . These contained the rudiments of his " Free Trade , " and when the struggle for the abolition of tbe Corn-laws began , he was looked up to as the chief . Though , we believe , that both Colonel Thompson and Ebenezer Elliott , did more than even Mr . Cobden in fighting tbat battle with the land monopoly . The first place which returned Mr . Cobden was Stockport , which he represented in 1841 , and afterwards sat for the West Riding of Yorkshire . After the contest for Free Trade , the friends ot Mr . Cobden got up a subscription which amountsd to more than £ 70 , 000 , and was handed over to him as a testimonial to his services . He is essentially the representative of the spirit of trade and the middle classes . No man so well understands them ; be is just tbe measure of their ideas ; just the level of their aspirations ; just the orator for their exponent ; this is the secret of his success . He will be remembered as one of the prominent actors in
Short Sketches. Richard Cobdbn, M. P. Co...
humanity s passage through the terrible phase of unlimited competition ; but not for largeness of heart , brain , or aim nor will his name be written on the page of history side by side with those of tbe martyrs , saints , heroes , and saviours of humanity .
Wllium Avioun . Though Not So Generally ...
WlLIUM AVIOUN . Though not so generally known as Mr , Cobden , we cannot do better than place Aytoun here following him , as he is the very antipode of that Free Trader , and one of the greatest opponents of Free Trade . He is a member of the Edinburgh bar , and has been for yearsa contributor to " Blackwood ' s Magazine , " and now occupies its editorial chair , so regally filled for years past by Professor Wilson . At the jtime of tbe railway mania , he wrote a series of papers descriptive of the doings at the Edinburgh Capel Court , full of felicitous fun and broad Scotch humour . In many a page of stinging prose , and satiric verse , has he hurled bis shafts at the
Manchester School ! but that is not to be pierced by the arrow of wit or the sword of sarcasm , it—like Achilleshas but one vulnerable spot , and tbat is the breeches pocket ! Pathless , Aytoun dashes at it with a bravery worthy of a better cause than that of the old Protection . He is the author of a biography of Richard Cour de Lion ; but his principal work is the " Lays of the Cavaliers , " in which he proves himself one of the greatest masters of rhythm , indeed , he is unequalled , save by Maoauley , in the artifices of verse . About three years since he married one of the daughters of glorious old Christopher . He is now the Professor of Belles Lettres in the Edinburgh University .
George Dawson. This Popular Lecturer Was...
George Dawson . This popular lecturer was born in 1321 , in the parish of St . Pancras , London . His father was the conductor of an academy on an extensive scale , and from him he received bis early education , after which , he went to the University of Glasgow , and after the usual course of study , took tho degree of Master of Arts . He was intended for the ministry of the Nonconformists , and was early a dissenter , as the congregation can testify , before whom he once oxpounded rank heterodoxy to their pious horror ; this was when he was a very youthful aspirant for theological honours , we think at Bushey . At length an opening occurring , he became the minister of Mount Zion Chapel , Birmingham , in 1844 . Since that time there has been » split in the old congregation , and the majority having seceded with the preacher , a subscription was commenced for the erection of a new chapel , and in 1847 , the Church
of the Saviour was opened , for Mr . Dawson ' s ministry of tho beautiful . George Dawson has written comparatively little , but is well known as a literary lecturer ; perhaps no man of the present day has attained so early and so general a fame . He was for sometime a writer in the " Binning , ham Mercury . " As a lecturer , George Dawson is unap . proachable . His brilliant wit , his conversational style , easy manner , and rich proverbial lore , combine to make him the most popular of our preachers . His voice is not musical , yet has it a peculiar homely charm ; his eyes are fine , deep set , dark , and piercing ; his head is large and well-formed , but does not show to advantage , as he wears the hair parted in the middle ; nevertheless , it is a feast for a Phrenologist . He boldly avows himself a Chartist , and is getting on towards Socialism . If the middle classes do not profit by the teachings of George Dawson , then are they lost indeed .
Gottfried Kinkel. Kinkel, Tha German Pat...
Gottfried Kinkel . Kinkel , tha German patriot , was born at Oboroassel , near Bonn ; he was ] one of that country ' s glorious student band , so celebrated for their love of the fatherland , and their devotedness in its defence , He was originally destined for the church , and having distinguished himself in various branches of learning , he was appointed professor of Theology in the University of Bonn . But the revolution of 1848 came with its uprising of tbe long oppressed peoples , and with it wreck of thrones and dynasties , and Kinkel joined the Democratic party . He was elected a member of the Prussian National Assembly , and took his seat on the extreme left . After its dissolution , he joined the insurrection at Baden , which , by this time , had become the theatre of a sanguinary struggle . He fought at the battle of Muggensturn , where he was wounded , and we have heard that the person who picked him up when wounded , was Joseph Moll , the German Democrat who
was well known some time since as a member of tho Fraternal Democrats . Unhappily , poor Moll , than whom a braver man never trod this earth , was himself slain . It is known that he was badly wounded ; but it is doubtful whether he died of his wound , or was subsequently mur . dered by the Prussians , who brutally butchered great numbers of wounded prisoners . Kinkel was taken prisoner , but being a man of mark , was brouhgt before a court martial and condemned to death . His sentence was commuted to hard labour for life in a common workhouse . He was afterwards shut up in the fortress of Spandau , from which he was enabled to escape b y the aid of his noble wife and a gallant youth named Charles Sohurz , who ventureo his own life , heroically to save Kinkel , and fled with his family to England . He has since resided at St . John ' s Wood , save tbe time occupied in his American tour , with the object of proselytising and obtaining monies for the future revolution . Kinkel is popular as a poet in his own country , and an author of considerable fame ,
The Countess Op Rudolstadt. [Sequel To "...
THE COUNTESS OP RUDOLSTADT . [ Sequel to " Consuelo . " ] Bv George Sand . TEE DOCTOR ' S REVELATION'S . Such was the fatigue and hunger which Consuelo duuu was me iaiigue ana nunger wnicn uonsuelo
experienced that she had scarcely reached her owu apartment when she fainted . When she recovered , she found herself attended by the little doctor with the black mask , who had formerly been her travelling companion , Tho doctor intimated to Consuelo his intention of supping with her . When supper had been served , he , to the consternation of Matteus , removed his mask , and laid it on the table , saying"To the deuce with this child ' s play , which hinders me from breathing , and from tasting the flavour of what I eat !"
Consuelo started , on recognising Dr . Sopperville , the physician who had attended Count Albert on his death bed . Without being at all disconcerted , he proceeded to satisfy his gluttonous appetite . When he had accomplished this feat , he drew hie « hair near to that of Consuelo , and told her , in a low voice , that he had some important facts to communicate to her . Fearing a snare , Consuelo replied that sho had no desire to know them ; but her reserve only provoked Supperville ' s laughter . There was , he said , a conspiracy organised for tho purpose of making Consuelo believe that Albert do Rudolstadt was really living ; and for inducing her to receive as a husband a certain Trismegistus , who resembled Albert , in order to obtain possession of the Rudolstadt estates .
" The 'Invisibles , '" added the doctor , " are the conductors of this conspiracy ; and they will leave no means untried to persuade you that Count Albert has grown two inches , and has acquired a fresh and florid complexion in his coffin . But I hear Matteus coming ; he is an honest fellow , and suspects nothing . I will now retire ; I have said all ; and having nothing more to detain me here , I shall quit tbe castle in an hour . " Thus saying , he replaced his mask , bowed profoundly , and departed . Agitated by what she had heard , Consuelo retired to her chamber ; but it was long before she found repose in sleep . THE ROBIN AGAIN ! CONFESSION .
Consuelo could not , on the morrow , bring herself to believe that the mysterious men , of whom she had imagined and hoped such great things , could be the ignoble plotters Bupper ville had reported them to be . Was it absolutely impossible that Albert could really be alive ? This reflection gave riso in Consuelo ' s mind to a train of melancholy thoughts , from which she was aroused by a slight noiso , and the brush of a light wing on her shoulder , and she uttered an exclamation of surprise and joy as she saw a pretty robin fly into her room and approach her without fear . After a few momenta of reserve he consented to take a fly from her hand . "Is it thou , my poor friend , my faithful companion »" said Consuelo , with tears of childest joy . «• i 8 it possible that thou hast sought and found me here 1 " AU her woes were forgotten in her joy at again finding her little friend of Spandau . For & quarter of an hour she
continued to play seriously with this little creature , when she heard a shrill whistle , upon which the robin darted through the window and disappeared . Consuelo looked out to see from whom the sound came , and saw Gottlieb walking on the banks of the rivulet . She waved her handkerchid to . attract bis attention to her ; but he departed without observing it . A whole week elapsed without the occurrence of any important event ; and which Consuelo passed in studying the choice books that had been placed at her disposal . The robin visited her every morning . One ( toy she discovered that he had something tied under his left wing . It was a very small bag of brown stuff , containing a billet from her beloved unknown , bogging her to return a note by the winged little messenger . Sho felt violently tempted to do so ; bat remembering her pledge to tho "Invisibles , " restrained herself .
In the evening she forced herself to read a score at the harpsichord , when two black figures presented themselves at the entrance of the music saloon , without her having heard them ascend . Sho could not restrain a cry of terror at the appearance of these spectres ; but one of them said to her , in a voice more gentle than at the first time , " Follow us I' And she rose in silence to obey . They presented her with a bandage of silk saying , " Cover your eyes yourself , and swear that you will do it conscientiously . Swear also that if the bandage should fall , or become disarranged , you wiu shut your eyes until we have told you to open ttUGin *
11 1 swear it 1 " replied Consuelo ; " Your oath is accepted , " replied the conductor . And , as upon the first occasion , Consuelo walked through subterranean passages ; but when they had told her to stop , an unknown voice added' ¦ Take off the bandage youraolf . Henceforth no one shall raise a hand to you . You shall have no other guardian than your word . " Consuelo found herself in a vaulted cabinet , lighted by a small sepulchral lamp suspended from the key-stone in the centre . A single judge , in a red robe and a livid mask , was seated upon an antique couch near a table . He was bent with age ; a few silver locks escaped from beneath his skull-cap . His voico was broken and trembling . This appearance of old age changed into respectful deference the fear from which Consuelo could not divest herself at approaching an Invisible . He desired her to be seated , and to open to him her whole heart , or to re ject him if she chose . Consuelo could not distrust him ; she owned her love for the unknown—for Liyerani .
The Countess Op Rudolstadt. [Sequel To "...
"That is tho name of no one in particular , " said the Confessor . " However , he whom you mean is well worthy of your love ; but you must renounce him . Albert de Rudolstadt is living . " ... ' " Ob , my dear Albert ! " cried Consuelo , raising her arms towards heaven , " I shall come out of it victorious . " Then kneeling be / ore the old man , " My father , ' said she , " absolvo me , and assist me never to see tins Liverani again ; I will no longer love him ; I do not / ore Jura now . ' The old man spread his trembling hands over the heal of Consuelo , but when ho withdrew them she could not rise . She had stifled her sobs in her bosom ; and overcome by a conflict beyond her strength , sho was obliged to lean upon tho arm of tho confessor to leave the oratory .
THE RUINED CASTLB . Aextday Matteus brought her a bunch of flowers . JPhen i ^ l ^ th era a lottei * fel 1 fl ' om their m [ m > cal ' cfullv sealed , but without address . It was an impassioned lettec from the unknown , imploring an interview—nay , announc-™! , u ~ ora l f tadieu ' What could Consuelo do' She lSA mcethl - ' and sh could not avoid him . Sho determined to write to the kind old man who had revealed - «„ m Ii ? ex , 9 J ? <* Albert . He * ould protect her , and Zu ff / 'JnS i ? ^ pu Dish her dear chevalier . But how SMm ^ 'fJ" Matteus would not stirafoofi wfnl'i F Tf i b f 0 re midniSht . Such , he said , were » r i , i f ' f' * , Consuelo determined to seek tho old man herself , She set about seeking tho mysterious en ranee to the subterranean phages which was in the itself resolved
pavilion to take refuge in it , and present herself at all risks before tbe Invisibles . She supposed gratuitously enough , that the place of their meoiines waa accessible , once the entrance to the caves was gained and tbat they met every evening in the samo place . She did . not know that upon the day they were all absent , and th t Liverani alone had retraced his steps , after having feigned to follow them upon some mysterious excursion . But all her efforts to find the secret door , or the trap 0 f the subterranean passages , were useless . She no longec possessed , as at Spandau , the coolness , tbe perseverance , tha necessary faith , for discovering the smallest fissure in a wall , the slightest jutting of a stone . Her hand trembled as she sounded the woodwork and the tapestry , and her sight grew confused ; every moment she thought she heard
the step of the chevalier on the gravel walk of the garden , or upon the marble of the peristyle . Suddenly she seemed to hear them beneath her , as if he were ascending a secret staircase under her feet , as if he were approaching by an invisible door , or as if , after the . manner of familiar spirits , he were about to break through the wall and present himself before her eyes . Sho let fall her taper , and fled to tho bottom of tbe garden . The pretty rivulet which crossed it here arrested her course . She listened , and heard , or thought she heard , some one walking behind her . Then , somewhat losing her self-possession , she threw herself into the boat which the gardener used for fetching sand and turf . Consuelo imagined that by detaching it she should drive to the opposite shore ; but tha current was rapid , and found an outlet from the premises
under a low arcb closed by a grating . Drifting with tha stream , in a few minutes the boat would strike against tha grating . Consuelo saved herself from a serious shock byrushing to the prow and extending her hands . A child of Venice , and a child of the people could not be much embarrassed by this manoeuvre . But , strange chanee ! tha grating yielded beneath her hand , and opened solely by tha impulse which the current gave the boat . Alas , thought Consuelo , perhaps this passage is never closed . I am a prisoner upon parole , and yet I fly , I violate my oath ! But I do so only to seek protection and refuge among my hosts , not to abandon and betray them . She sprang upon the bank , whither the current of the mer had borne her skiff , and plunged into a close thicket . Consuelo could not run very quickly beneath their dark shade ; the avenue wound more and more as it narrowed . Every moment the fugitive struck against the trees , and several times fell upon tho turf . Still sho felt hope returnto her soulthese
ing ; shades reassured her ; it seemed to her impossible that Liverani should discover her in them . After having walked for some time at hazard , she found herself at the foot of a hill covered vutb . rocks , whose uncertain outline was defined against a gray and cloudy sky . A fresh , stormy wind had risen , and the rain began to fall . Consuelo , not daring to retrace her steps , lest Leverani should have followed her , and was even now searching on the banks of the river , ventured upon the somewhat rough , path of the hill . She imagined that upon arriving at the top she should discover the lights of the chateau , whatever mi g ht be her position ; but when she arrived , the lightning , which began to glare in the sky , showed before her the ruins of a vast edifice , the imposing and melancholy remains of another age . The rain obliged Consuelo to seek for shelter , but it was with difficulty she found it . The towers were cracked from top to bottom on the inside , and clouds of tiercels and gerfalcons , startled by ber approach , uttered sharp and savaga
cries . In the midst of rocks and briars , Consuelo , crossing tha roofless chapel , whose skeleton proportions were displayed in the bluish glare of the lightning , gained the court , the surface of which was covered with smooth short grass . Tha mass of ruined buildings which surrounded this abandoned court presented the moat fantastic appearance , and at each flash of lightning the eye could scarcely understand those attenuated and distorted spectres , all those incoherent forms of destruction . It was a frightful yet poetic spot , and Consuelo felt herself seized by a sort of superstitious terror , as if her presence had profaned a place reserved for the funeral conferences or the silent revises of the dead . On a calm night , and under less exciting circumstances , she might have admired the severe beauty of this buildinir : she
would perhaps have been moved to moralise upon the rigour of titne / and tho destinies which overthrow , without pity , the palace and the fortress , and lay their ruins in the dust beside those of tho hovel . The sadness which tho ruins of those formidable abodes inspires is not the same in the imagination of the artist and in the heart of the practical man ; but in tbat moment of trouble and of fear , and in that night of storm , Consuelo , not being sustained by that enthusiasm which impelled her to serious enterprises , felt herself on the instant again become a child of the people , trembling at the idea of seeing appear the phantoms of the night , and fearing above all those of the ancient chatelains , savage oppressors during their lives , desolute and menacing spectres after their death . The thunder raised its voice , the wind brought down the bricks and mortar of the
dismantled walls , the long branches of bramble and ivy wound like serpents among the battlements of tho towers . Consuelo , still seeking a shelter from the rain and the falling ; fragments , penetrated beneath the vault of a staircase , which seemed better preserved than the others ; it was that of tbe great feudal tower , the oldest and most solid building of tho edifice . After ascending twenty steps she found a great octagonal hall which occupied the whole inside of the tower ; the winding staircase was constructed , as in all buildings of this kind , within the wall eighteen or twenty feet thick . The vault of this hall had the interior shape of a bee-hive . There were no longer either doors or windowsashes ; but the openings were so narrow and deep that the Wind could not rush into them . Consuelo determined to await the termination of the tempest in this place ; and
approaching a window she remained more than an hour contemplating the imposing spectacle of a blazing sky and listening to the terrible voices of the storm . At last the wind subsided , the clouds dispersed , and Con * suolo thought of retiring ; but on turning she was surprised to see a light more permanent than that of lightning prevail in tbe ball . Tbat light , after having hesitated , so to speak , increased and filled the whole vault , while a slight crackling was heard iu the chimney . Consuelo looked ia that direction , and saw under the half-arch of the ancient chimney an enormous throat yawning before her , a fire of branches which had kindled as of itself . She approached it , and remarked half-consumed brands and all the remains of a fire formerly kept up and recently abandoned . Terrified by this circumstance , which revealed to her tha
presence of a host , Consuelo , who could see no furniture about her , quickly returned to the staircase and prepared to descend , when she heard voices below and the crackling produced by men ' s steps upoa the rubbish scattered over it . Her superstitious terrors were then changed into real apprehensions . That damp and devastated hall could be inhabited only by some ranger , perhaps as savage as hia dwelling , perhaps drunken and brutal , and most probable Jess civilised and less respectful than Ernest Matteus . The footsteps approached quite rapidly . Consuelo hastily ascended the staircase in order not to be met by these problematical visitors , and after having cleared twenty steps more , found herself on tho letel of the second story , where thera was little probability that any one would come , as it was entirely uncovered , and consequently uninhabitable : Fortunately for her tho rain had ceased ; nay , she could even distinguish a few stars through the wild vegetation which
crowned the tower about a dozen feet above her head . A ray of light from the flooring beneath was soon cast upon the gloomy walls of the edifice , and Consuelo , cautiously approaching , saw through a large crevice all that was taking place in tho room below . Two men were in tbe apartment one walking up and down and stamping on the ground to warm himself ; the other , stooping beneath the ample chimney , was occupied in raking the fire together , which began to blaze on the hearth . At first she could distinguish nothing but their dresses , which announced the high rank of the wearers , their hats concealing their faces but tha light of the fire increased , and the man who was stirring it with the point of his sword having risen to hang up hishafe on a projecting stone , Consuelo perceived a mass of black hair and the upper part of a face , and could scarcely repress a cry of mine ed tenderness and terror . He spokef and P , ° " , i ! ^ could no lon 2 er doubt that it was Albert da Rudolstadt . ( To be Continued . )
Opening Of Tub Sudsiarine Tblkoraph Betw...
Opening of tub Sudsiarine Tblkoraph Between Eno « l & kd and Ireland . —On Tuesday evening the electric communication , by submarine telegraph , was completed between England and Ireland . ' Mr . ffewall , aided by Mr . Statham , of tbe Gutta Peroha Works , City-road , with a staff of assistants , began to sink the wire—wniob . is seventy miles long—at two o ' clock on Tuesday morning , and iu eighteen hours tbe work was complete . Three other submarine telegraphs are , it is stated , in progress betwen *
England and Ireland , at different points , but Mr . NewalTs between Holyhead and Kingstown , enjoys the enviable distinction of being first in actual operation . The next news of this kind that may be looked for is the completion of an electric communication between England and Rn " giumufoOstend . ^ na ° " Indisposition of Mb . Waklbv , M . P . — We re « r <* . fc » hear that on the return of Mr . Wakley to his 2 mb « i from the House of Commons on Saturday moraine last between three and four o ' clock , he was seized with a snddon faintness , which caused much alarm to big relative * t ? E satisfactory to BteMwwew , that the ^ genH 2 i * « n w 2 so far recovered by the afternoon as to ahfe to iu «™» for his residence at Harefield . We t 0 l € aTe ^ n
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Citation
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Northern Star (1837-1852), June 5, 1852, page 3, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/ns/issues/ns2_05061852/page/3/
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