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specting the authenticity of which we decline giving an | The bair, moustaches, and beard, are of the softest texopinion, until further examination. Four portraits, by ture ; and their beautiful arrangement is evidently naSpagnoletto, are characterised by an exaggerated contrast tural and involuntary. The face is all thought and feelof light and shade, that would almost lead us at first view inġ-all repose, and full of enjoyment--yet indicating a to set them down for mere daubs. A closer inspection capability of exertion far beyond ordinary mortals. shows, however, transparent colouring and fine drawing, with occasionally (as, for example, in the portrait of the starry Galileo and his woes) great nobleness of expres
THE WRECK OF A WORLD.-A DAY-DREAM. sion. A landscape, near the Bathsheba, is said to be by
By H. G. B. Salvator Rosa; and, whether genuine or not, is valuable,
Some say that gleams of a remoter world for its mellow tone, and admirable disposition of light
Visit the soul in sleep-that death is slumber, and shade. The lover of broad and rich humour will And that its shapes the busy thoughts outnumber
or those who wake and live.--I look on high; find a high treat in the Flemish Epicure of Jordaens.
Has some unknown omnipotence unfurl'd His face, broad and round, literally shines (under the in
The veil of life and death? or do I lio fluence of music, rich dishes, and noble wines) with the
In dream, and does the mightier world of sleep
Spread far around and inaccessibly oil of gladness.
Its circles ? The Saloon contains some pieces of sculpture, which
SHELLEY. do not afford much room for remark. There are two
The impression it left upon my mind will never be able paintings, of which I could neither learn nor guess effaced, yet I cannot describe it. It was a vision of fearthe subjects, nor the master ; for they are evidently from ful, but glorious sublimity. I know not whether it was the same band. Not the least interesting portion of the a waking or a sleeping dream ; it came upon me for the contents of this apartment, are some drawings by Sir Ro. moment with all the overwhelming force of reality. bert Strange.
There are mysteries in the unfathomable soul of man, We now come to the drawing-room. The Vertumnus over which, either in the calm of noon, or the solitude of and Pomona of Rubens is a fine painting, but requires | night, we may well brood with awe, starting even from one far gone in the love of the art, not to be startled with ourselves, as if we carried within us a spirit to whose the homely, though characteristic, features of the pair, omnipotence we were forced to bow, and over whose and the anachronism of their dress. Near this is “ a wild and wayward will we in vain attempted to assert composition"-fruit and game by Snyders, figures by Ru- an influence. bens-worthy of a longer perusal than I could afford it. It was Sunday, and I was up by myself among the There are two Murillos--one, the flight into Egypt—the mountains. Not a human habitation was in sight, not other, St John, the good shepherd. Both have the artist's a human sound was floating on the hushed atmosphere. warm colouring and delicacy of tint. The figures in the But, through the deep stillness, a low thrilling voice former are exact copies of every-day life-there is no ele
appeared to fill all space, a voice that seemed an inherent vation about the expression. It would have been a gem, part of the creation, for ever ringing on the finer nerves had it merely undertaken to represent “ peasants rest- of sense, like the distant and dying hum of bees, or the ing ;" but there wants that dignity and grace which we far-off murmur of the summer ocean. The more you require in the incarnate Deity and his mother. The St listened to convince yourself of the profound quiet of John is more ideal, and betrays a finer feeling of the animated nature, the more you were aware of a certain poetry of the art, than any other work of Murillo's that rushing noise, the whirl, perhaps, of a revolving world, we have seen. The “ Elijah, fed by ravens,” of Teniers, or the audible breathing of every living blade of grass, is chiefly valuable, on account of the beautiful clear land- and humble flower, and majestic tree, and primeval foscape which we see through the mouth of the cave in rest. Or might it not be the invisible passing of ten which the prophet is seated. There is also in this room thousand souls, eternally moving on and on in two unina landscape by Claude Lorrain, of which I could speak terrupted currents—the one towards the heaven they “ from morn till dewy eve;" but my limits will not ad | have gained, and the other to lighten up for a wbile the mit, and he must rest unnoticed, till I can devote a whole purc shrine of infantile bosoms? It matters not; it is a essay to himself.
sound to be felt, not reasoned on. I threw myself down There now reinain only two paintings, of which I in- at random upon a spot unshadowed by a tree, green and tend to say any thing; and they are both portraits. There bright, under the immediate eye of Heaven. I lay like are, no doubt, paintings of this class, which have an in- a swimmer afloat upon his back in the blue solitude of dependent value of their own : but their chief interest some favourite bay. The mighty skies seemed rolling arises from the completeness which they give to our ideas on above me, with their gorgeous cavalcades of cloud, of distinguished characters. The pictures, at present tier after tier, in every great and fantastic shape that alluded to, are a portrait of Masaniello of Naples, and imagination coins,-palaces with domes of diamond and what is said to be an original portrait of Shakspeare. gold, immeasurable pyramids, thrones radiant with chryThe former is a full-length. Masaniello stands with a solite, leviathans of the deep, monsters of the air, gloinatcblock in bis hand, and a silver sword by his side, in a rious and colossal forms of bards, and silver-haired prodress of many and strongly-contrasted colours. His body phets, and monarchs on their majestic steeds careering is not bent-only slightly inclined forward. There is “a across the sun. listening fear in his regard”_his eyes have the ferocity and Suddenly a change came over the face of the firmakeen watchfulness of the cat--his mouth wears a vacant ment. Its rainbow lights faded away. Its blue fields animal smile. The brow is lofty and commanding. The seemed to wither in the poisoned air. They grew pale, upper part of the face indicates capacious and powerful and yet paler ; a filmy veil appeared to have been cast intellect--the lower, strong animal passions. His story before them ; and when I looked again, they had died forms the comment on it. He rescued his country like away into a wan and sickly white. The whole firma. a hero : he fell into habits of excess; and his followers ment was in rapid and tumultuous motion. The winds had to kill him, like a mad dog, lest he should do mis- were still speechless; the same dead repose pervaded nachief. I would give a good deal to know, upon good ture ; but far, far above me, the stormy rack was wheelauthority, that the other really is an original portrait of ing round and round in its inextricable confusion. The Shakspeare. It is just such a face as I could fancy him brightness of the sun-lit empyrean had passed away for to have had. The brow is broad, high, and beautifully ever. Darker and darker ;-every thing was quickly formed. The clear eyes bencath it swim in quiet delight. lapsing into gloom. Along the whole horizon my eye The mouth is rather large; the verınilion lips lie apart, rested on the inelancholy edge of a rising canopy of işdicating a quick perception of all pleasurable sensations. black. It spread upwards with a slow, regular, ominous motion ;-upwards, still upwards, across the whole arch with a fierce and fiery glare. The solid earth heaved in of heaven. The light fled before it, but it pursued, and convulsive throes. The pyramids were rent asunder, and buried it up in its sullen folds. Not a ray, not a single the buried dead walked out. They were still dead, but ray was left; not one luminous particle floated through their glazed eyes rolled horribly in mysterious meaning. infinite space. But a change had been wrought upon Their cerements fell spontaneously from them, and their my sense of sight. I could now distinguish objects in livid carcasses looked yet more horrible in the gloomy and the darkness, as well as I could do before in the light. dismal light. Their features were those of every nation
I turned towards the earth, and looked round. I and tribe that the sun had ever shone upon the brown scarcely knew it to be the same as that on which I had Arabian, the black African, the red Indian, and the white lived. I could see for miles,-for leagues,-away through Frank. They formed themselves into a long, an interthe deep obscurity that overshadowed it; but it was only minable procession, and in the middle I could distinguish one vast, urbroken, barren, lifeless waste. Its moun- a bier covered with black. Upon it lay the body of one tains, its woods, its streams, its cities, its moving and who had been alive for four thousand years—the wizard breathing things, were gone-gone like a cloud from the Time. He had witnessed the world's birth, and he bad surface of a lake. Of all the human race, I only survi- ceased to exist on that very hour in which it had been ved. The desolation had been complete—too complete, destroyed. They were carrying him to his tomb in etertoo terrible for tears. I felt that a curse was upon me nity. They passed me, but I heard not the tread of their
-the curse of loneliness. And the silence-that dread many feet; their lips moved, but the funeral chant came ful silence-worse, a thousand times worse than the roar not to my ears. Perhaps it was the imperfection of my of earthquakes, still continued. There was nothing to senses which cabined the powers of my sou). The meteor break it. The air had lost the attribute of motion; the in the east moved on as if to meet them, flinging down at instinct of life had perished, and there was not even the intervals a shower of dying stars. They journeyed away stirring of a growing flower to relieve the ear, though | beyond the limits of sight, and all around me became again but with the mockery of sound.
dim and uncertain. I saw no more. It was now evenWhither was I now to flee? Was I doomed to a ing—a thunder-storm was gathering on the mountains, wretched immortality, wandering over a shipwrecked and I bastened homewards. and deserted world ?--All at once a disembodied shape These wild fancies, they say, are often the prognostics passed by me. For the first time fear fell upon my soul. of coming madness. If so—the decrees of destiny must The curtain of immateriality was withdrawn, and I be fulfilled. stood in the visible presence of the mysterious dead, whose nature was different from mine, and in whose
" WHAT'S A' THE HURRY " feelings I had no sympathy. Perhaps they were the
A REMINISCENCE OF THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. evil spirits of the former world, who, now that it had
My excellent friend, now generally known as the Etbeen changed into a charnel-house, were condemned still to
trick Shepherd, was, some fifteen or twenty years ago, a flit along with it as it rolled its spectral and rejected form
member of the Forum, then a popular debating society. through the remotest regions of chaos. I was left in
He had taken it into his head that be was an orator, and, doubt, in ignorance, and I trembled. Shadow after sha
in order to give greater effect to his speech, had planted dow appeared in the distance, came rapidly through the
himself in a conspicuous and commanding situation in the dim air, and glided by me. All were of gigantic magni
gallery. The church (in Carrubber's Close) was crowded tude, and frequently a wild unnatural expression was on
to excess. The President had proposed, and I had opened, their unsubstantial countenances. Their numbers, too,
the question ;-it was, as I well remember, upon the comseemed perpetually increasing, and the speed at which
parative happiness of the Married and Single State. Hogg they went was becoming greater. It was a tremendous,
was then unmarried, and a stanch antagonist. I had but magnificent pageant. Some were mounted upon vi.
espoused the side of matrimony, and found that the cause sionary steeds, black as ebony; others moved on in cha
I advocated was not unpopular. Hogg rose in reply. riots and triumpbal cars, like Roman generals at a tri
For a space, his appearance, though somewhat doric and umph ; unreal ships came sailing through the abyss above
uncouth, was rather imposing, and he dwelt amongst me, with all their white sails set, and apparently full in
“squalling weans and scolding Kates” with all the address the wind. Noiselessly they came, and noiselessly they of the Gudeman of Auchtermuchty. I began, in fact, to again vanished afar off. They were followed by prodi
fear that the audience was disposed to go along with him, gious birds, larger a thousand times than the South Ame
when, all at once, he paused, and, after some instants of rican condor, who soared in solitary pomp away into the
breathless suspense, pulled from his pockets the contents darkness.
of his seemingly extempore address. A gentleman, who I wandered over the illimitable desert, and these
occupied a situation in the body of the church, having obshapes and sights of awe grew familiar to me. Unex
served the pause, without seeing the occasion of it, and pectedly, like flakes in a snow-storm when its fury is imagining that the speaker had stopped as a mill pauses wellnigh spent, they became less frequent and less con
from the want of an encouraging moving force-exclaimed, fused. At length I saw no more. A faint red light, as in
in a tone and manner ludicrously resembling those of the
tone and if diffused from a few glimmering lamps that hung far
orator_“Go on, honest man!" Hogg coolly snuffed the up in the black concave, spread a dim sepulchral glare
candle, which was attached to the adjoining pillar, and, around me. I looked, and found that I was on a bound
opening out his papers slowly and deliberately, said, with less plain of ruins, stumbling over huge fragments hid
the utmost composure, “ What's a' the hurry?” among the rank and withered grass. Heaped together in When I see the whole world agog, and a-drive, and strange overthrow, I recognised the fallen towers of
a-push, and a-struggle, in every direction into which perAthens, of Tyre, and of Balbec, the crumbling fanes of | verted genius has sent it a wool-gathering, I am ever and Jerusalem and of Babylon, the eternal pyramids, the anon disposed to exclaim, with my old friend Hogg, sculptured obelisks, the mutilated sphinxes, and the jasper “ What's a' the hurry ?" tombs of Palmyra, of Memphis, and of Thebes. They were all cast from their once immovable bases, and like the statues and images of a sacked city, they lay prostrate
LORD BYRON AND MR MOORE. along the earth, disfigured, broken, dishonoured, and ne- In the last Number of the Westminster Review, there glected. It was a world's churchyard, and these were is an article, not very well written, on Moore's Life of the monuments that were piled upon the grave of man. Byron. It contains, however, the following passage, in I could see them all in the dim lurid light.
which there is a great deal of force, because it attacks Mr Suddenly a meteor broke forth, far away in the east, Moore on the most vulnerable part of his work. We heartily agree with the sentiments of the Westminster Assist my quill! Assist my labouring muse, Reviewer in this particular :
That, like the sovereign trout of Tallo's flood, “We find, in the letter's of Lord Byron to Mr Dallas, Mr Struggles as dragged out by the rude horse hair, Hodgson, and Mr Gifford, replies to expostulations and ar- | Assist me all, to hurl the vengeance due guments which these gentlemen had addressed to him on the On Hegg's audacious and devoted head ! subject of his infidelity. Now, if any of these gentlemen, Was it a little thing to take the name after his death, had lamented his infidelity in writing of of one h
senior in the vale of life him to the public, it would have been consistent with their
And lists of fame, and tie a fiery brand conduct towards him during his life. But in his letters to Mr Moore, and in all Mr Moore's account of their inter Unto his tail to set the world on flame, course, there is not a vestige of any expostulation or argu
As Samson with the foxes ? To bring all ment on the subject addressed to him by Mr Moore. He, The host of poetasters on my head, therefore, comes forward now with a very ill grace, saying | Who of them nothing knew? And, worst of all, that of Lord Byron, after his death, which there is no evi- | My best and warmest friend the Borderer, dence to show, and not the least reason to believe, he ever
He of the nut-brown hair and hollow voice, said to him during his life. We think it quite of a piece
Whom I esteem as brother. with Mr Moore's general system of acquiescence with the
I have fish'd
| With this same Hogg in Tweed, even to its fountains, influential in all its forms, to conclude, that, having first courted the favour of Lord Byron by silence, at least, on the Core water, Froode, and Tallo's sluggish stream, one hand, he now courts that of the public by talk on the Yet nothing knew of him more than I saw other. The staple commodity of the present age in England,'| A rash and inconsiderate plunging blockhead, says Lord Byron himself, 'is cant : cant moral, cant reli- | And a most awkward handler of his lister. gious, cant political; but always cant. How much of this I've prick'd the salmon out by tens and dozens, staple commodity there may be in Mr Moore's lamentations,
While Hogg stood scratching his audacious pate, we shall leave our readers to judge. Lord Byron's letters to Mr Moore contain not a syllable of replication to any And cursing his bad luck.- Alas! how oft shadow of an expressed solicitude on the subject of his inti- Misconduct so is term'd! But, at the last. delity. It was assuredly very unkind in Mr Moore not even | I parted all and equal with poor Hogg, to offer his hand to extricate him from the labyrinth in | Because I liked the lad. Nay, I have sat which he was bewildered,'--'the eclipse in which he was Till midnight, teaching his unwieldy fingers labouring; more especially as, from the confidence with | To touch the tuneful chords. Plague on the wight! which Mr Moore ascribes error to Lord Byron, he must be À.
And this is my reward! With doggerel rhymes himself in the possession of something very nearly approaching the infallibility of the Catholic church. A man cannot
To charge my guiltless name! Well, after all, say, unhesitatingly, that another is grossly wrong, unless in I grieve for Hogg, and wish be had not done it. the confidence that he himself is perfectly right. We think | For I would rather be ten men's warm friend it. therefore, a very unfriendly measure on his part to have | Than one man's enemy. I charged him with it, withheld his short and easy method'from bis deistical friend, | And, like an honest man, he did confess while he was yet living and able to profit by it; and now The perver
The perverse deed. He wanted some home-thrusts to come forward shaking his head over him, and pelting his
At certain poets, and he chose to place infidel memory with a hailstorm of metaphors, by way of
Old David of the Lin 'twixt them and him. making a good orthodox presentment of himself in the eyes of the religious community. And we do not think that any
I call upon the literary world direct-dealing man, be his religious opinions what they may, | To say if this was fair? But having now can admire the figure which Mr Moore makes on this occa- Clear'd up this matter, here I let him see sion."
How an old man can write with his own pen :
This is my own, and freely I subscribe it. LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC SOCIETIES OF
Linhouse, March 31.
GEM OF MY SOUL.
By Laurence Macdonald.
Gem of my soul! my thoughts are still with thee A very able and interesting account of the internal structure of the Sturgeon was read by Dr Craigie: in the course Where'er my steps may wander,near or far. of which he exposed several errors that Dr Munro, secun
O'er the blue mountains, or the trackless sea; dus, and Sir Everard Home, have committed in their ana 'Mid life's high revelry, 'mid this world's war, tomical details of this fish. In the absence of preparations Thou art the light-the solitary star and drawings, it would be a vain attempt to render Dr That gleams in beauty spir
That gleams in beauty spiritually bright, Craigie's paper intelligible to the public.
Shedding a ray divine 'mid things that mar
The harmony of life, till to my sight
Thou seem'st the soul of day, the spirit of the night!
LINES FOR THE EYE OF MR JAMES HOGG, SOME- Gem of my soul ! the ocean's pearl, though pure,
UES TERMED THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. Sinks into dimness on that neck of snow! [Our readers will recollect, that we some time ago published some And I've beheld that spotless brow obscure
highly poetical lines on the living bards of Britain, which were The brightest jewels that earth's mines can show; s0 contrived that they appeared to come from the pen of Mr David | And when thy soul, deep in those eyes, would glow Tweedie. We have since ascertained that they were the produc. With glowing thought with eloquence with love! tion of our friend the Ettrick Shepherd, and that Mr Tweedie has
They more than match'd the fairest things below, been in a state of high excitement and most just indignation ever
And even outshone the brightest things above, since he saw them. He has at last, however, forwarded to us a reply, in which he certainly gives the Shepherd a Roland for his Mingling in one wild glance the eagle and the dove! Oliver, and all we wish is, that he had paid the postage from the Crook Inn. But poets continually forget these minor details. Gem of my soul ! be ever what thou’rt now, Ed.]
By genius polish'd, and by nature fair ; Ye powers of retribution! Dark avengers
Were aught like thee accorded to my brow, Of innoceace and genius degraded,
'Twould never be again the seat of care,
But heaven and love would rest for ever there! Light would illume my path, and the lone hour
Would never more be mine, my life t'impair; The darkest clime on earth would be a bower Of heavenly bliss, with thee its light-its love—its flower!
31st March, 1830.
We'll speak not much, but in joy I'll fold thee
Close to my beating breast, And there is not an eye in the world shall behold thee,
But the eye that loves thee best.
THE COMING OF SPRING,
Not in the manner of Mrs Hemans. Spring comes in with pinks and parties
Night is forced upon mid-day; Every cake, and dish, and tart is
White with sugar--green with bay. Cold and headach-cough and hoarseness,
Sometimes coach'd, and sometimes drown'd, Wealth and beauty-wit and coarseness
Oh ! the everlasting round ! Laughing, dancing, Airting, speaking
Horrid nonsense all the night; Lovely dark-eyed damsels squeaking
Songs,-enough the French to fright;
Fiddlers libelling dying cats,
Puppies marching in with hats.
Negus, ices, smiles, and cakes-Love, and pride, and long flirtations
Silly girls and heartless rakes. Harps, guitars, and huge pianos,
Grauder than their empty sound, Blent with songs of Julianas
Oh! the everlasting round! “ Will you valtz with me, Miss Tiptoe?"
“ May I have the pleasure of Drinking wine with you ?"_“ I'm up to
All your tricks, my lord, by Jove !" “ May I trouble you, Miss Lily?”
“ Have some goose, sir?”—“ If you please."“ Pray, do take a little jelly."
“ Ices always make me sneeze."“ Were you at young Jewson's concert ?"
“ Let me read that motto, dear ;”— “ Where's the creme rouge ?”—“ Here is one sort;"—
“ Drink wine, Monsieur?"_" Tank you, sere."“ When Miss Wrymouth sings, just watch her
Shocking faces !"_" Oh ! tremendous !"“ I've lost my bat!”-“ Bring up your coach, sir!"
" How it rains!”—“ Good heaven defend us !"Thus the spring comes into fashion,
Where the gay and glad are found : Gods! it puts me in a passion
Oh! the everlasting round !
When by its winding course I roam'd, and twined its sim
ple flowers, A joyous, thoughtless, merry heart, in childhood's rosy
hours ! 0! what would I not give once more upon its bank to be, A wanderer by its waters blue, as careless and as free!
The gentle stream! the bappy stream! that through the
green wood sings! Time passes noiseless o'er its head, nor change nor sha
dow brings; How many a tear bas dimm'd my eye, how many a cloud
has past Across my brow, since on its breast I fondly look'd my
last! How many rainbows youth calls forth, how many hopes
I nurst, Like bells that float upon its tide, have glanced since then
and burst !
The gentle stream! the happy stream ! that through the
greenwood shines ! When falls the suplight through the trees in rich and
fairy lincs! I see it dancing on its way, I hear its voice of song, I feel the summer breeze that plays its bordering flowers
among ! Alas! 'tis but in memory now, its devious course I see, It shines, it wanders, and it sings, in vain--in vain-for
To-night! to-night! when the moon's in the sky,
And the owl hoots from the tree,
Will gently shine on me;
And the foolish fly dips his wing, Alone we'll stray by the secret way
That leads to the elfin ring.
The gentle stream ! the happy stream! though sad and
worn my heart, Methinks, at sight of it, once more, all sorrow would de
part; And calm and holy thoughts would shed their moonlight
o'er my mind, And, wandering by its course again, lost happiness I'd find ! Away, fond dreain! youth cannot come in freshness back
to me, I'll never roam, as once I roam'd, as careless and as free!
The stars! the stars! will twinkle above,
And the flowers will twinkle below; The birds! the birds! will be dreaming, love,
And the night breeze will kiss thy brow ;
ROYAL INSTITUTION.-We observe that the Exhibition of Ancient LITERARY CHIT-CHAT AND VARIETIES.
Pictures is to be closed on Saturday the 17th, and a Modern Exhi
bition to be opened early in May. The author of The Kuzzilbash has in preparation a new work, de
CHIT-CHAT FROM GLASGOW.-The “ Bazaar" for the sale of La
dies' Work, in behalf of the Orphan Institution, was held last week, scriptive of Persian life and manners, under the title of The Persian
in a very handsome suit of apartments recently built, and called St Adventurer.
George's Rooms. There was a prodigious turn-out of beauty and The author of Flirtation will speedily publish a tale of fashion
fashion on all the days, and £500 was realised for the charity. One able life, under the title of The Separation
family of young ladies alone contributed what brought a twentieth A novel, entitled Clifford, by the author of Pelham, may be ex.
of the sum thus levied, chiefly on bachelors. Many celebitaires were pected in a few days.
tempted out of half-a-crown by the taking appearance of a sealed Shortly will be published, Memoirs of the late Right Reverend J.
packet, labelled “Indispensable to a Gentleman." If they broke the T. Jaines, D.D., Lord Bishop of Calcutta : gathered from his Let
seal in the room, another half-crown was the penalty of their imitaters and Memoranda, by E. James, M.A., Prebendary of Win
tion of Eve, and their reward, on unclosing the mysterious parcel, was chester.
A Wife-of gingerbread-value twopence. Some of the fair contriThere is in the press, Tilustrations of the Exodus-consisting of
butors used their pens, as well as their needles and pencils, on this oc. six views, from drawings taken on the spot, during a journey casion, with great effect. A catalogue, in verse, of the articles exhithrough Arabia Petræl, in the year 1828, by W. H. Newnham, Esq., bited for sale, was particularly piquant and elegant, as you will judge and engraved on stone by J. D. Harding. The scenes pourtrayed by the following specimen : are those in which the principal events recorded in Exodus occurred “ Here are drawings and paintings, that jointly convey,
Proposals for publishing the Wycliffite versions of the Old Testa. What the Artist may learn, and the Moralist sayment have been circulated, under the sanction of the Royal Society
That Taste, Talents, and Time, in such service employ'd, of Literature. The editors are the Rev. J. Forshall and Mr Madden,
Are most by ourselves, and by others, enjoy'd. both eminent scholars, and connected with the British Museum.
And these butterflies-look at their beautiful hues ! The author of Rome in the Nineteenth Century, and of Conti
Their hazels, and crimsons, and brightest of blues, pental Adventurcs, is preparing a new work.
Yet, 'tis certain, that she, who imparted these dyes, Mr Ferrari, one of the oldest musical professors in London, an
Put their brightness to shame, by her lips and her eyes. nounces Memoirs of his Life, and Anecdotes of his Musical Contem
That her fairy productions were sent to this place, poiarics. Ferrari was the intimate friend of Paesiello and Haydn,
Only proves, that her heart is as good as her face. the preceptor of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette, and of Madame
“ Here are Card-racks, assuming the form of the Lyre, Catalani.
Which, with rapture, might even cold Dulness inspire. Miss FANNY AYTON'S CONCERT.-This concert, which took place
For a purpose more noble, no Lyre was e'er framed, last Monday evening, was thinly attended. Miss Ayton particularly
In the days when the fiercest of passions it tameddistinguished herself in “ La Biondina," “ Rise, gentle Moon," and
By the boy who first found it, a shell on the shore, a "Scena from Der Freischutz." She also sang very sweetly Mrs
That charm'd into music the ocean's wild roar. Alexander Kerr's very pretty song, “This is the hour.” She principally excels, however, in Italian music. Miss Ayton was assisted by
“Here are Screens to defend blooming cheeks from the blaze, Messrs Horncastle, Boyle, Murray, and Platt. Mr Horncastle must
Which the hearth of their home in its comfort displays. have had a cold, for his singing produced no effect whatever. Mr
Will you buy them and thus by their presence be told, Boyle was encored in “How blithely the pipe." Mr Murray played
of the Orphans who ask to be screen'd from the cold." a fine solo on the violin, and Mr Platt a very pleasant one on the
-T. P. Cooke has created a sensation amounting to enthusiasm here, flute.
and drawn excellent houses. His benefit was quite a bumper, and MR KNOWLES's LECTURES.-Mr Knowles concluded his course of | deservedly so, for his William, in Black Eyed Susan, is unique, and Lectures on Dramatic Literature on Wednesday. He was attended " albeit unused to the melting mood,” it drew tears into my " lee on that day by a highly respectable and numerous audience. We are scuppers."-Miss Jarman is expected with impatience, and we are glad to perceive that he is to deliver one other lecture this evening, well pleased to hear she will play in "Aloyse," which, although by a on the interesting subject of Elocution-hitherto too much neglected talented lady who has many friends in Glasgow, and is, we believe, a in this city-in the course of which he will introduce some favourite
townswoman of our own, strange to say, has never yet been perforined specimens of recitation.
here. MR Dick's SUSPENSION RAILWAY.The exhibition of Mr Dick's CHIT-CHAT FROM LONDON.-The great topic of conversation at ingenious invention closes, we believe, this day, and the models are present is Thomas Campbell's Defence of Lady Byron, and Castiga. about to be taken to London. A good deal of attention has bcen ex. tion of Mr Moore in the last Number of his Magazine. The preva. cited by this new species of railway. Cheapness and rapidity of con-|
Icnt opinion seems to be, that Mr Campbell has thrown away a great veyance from place to place are of the greatest importance, and any
quantity of excellent indignation, and lest the matter very much invention which has these objects in view, is well entitled to the mi
where he found it. One thing is evident, that Moore was ignorant nute investigation of scientific men. If Mr Dick's plans were once of the real or alleged cause of separation, and endeavoured to acreduced to practice, there is no saying what advantages might ulti
count for it in as favourable a manner for Lord Byron as possible. mately accrue from them. Traders and manufacturers would then That he should have done so, was natural enough, and no defence be able to send their goods from one extremity of the country to the which Lady Byron bas yet made proves the biographer deserving of other, in nearly as little time as it now takes to transport them from the opprobrious epithets heaped on him by Mr Campbell.Leitch one end of London to the other. The whole kingdom would thus Ritchie has published a book, called “ The Gaine of Life;" it is be added to the tradesman's shop, and of course a great reduction well written, but heavy.--The Foreign Literary Gazette, which has would take place in the price of goods. The demand for them existed for three months, has stopped at the 13th Number, for want
d consequently increase; the revenue would benefit accordingly; of sufficient encouragement. This is to be regretted and the public burdens would be gradually reduced. This is a splen ducted with much ability, and in an enlightened and candid spirit. did prospect, and it may be realised if Mr Dick's plans are ever put -A new weekly periodical, called Le Representant des Peuples, in into practice.
French, has made its first appearance. Another French paper has THOMAS CAMPEELL AND M193 CEUMPE.-We have been a good been for some time established in London, called Le Furet de Londeal amused with the following little disclosure, which is made with dres.-The indefatigable Mr Owen is about to hold a public meeting the utmost naïveté in the New Monthly Magazine for April. A re- l in the City of London Tavern, for the purpose cent musical publication, entitled, “Hours Past, Present, and Fu. once more of his new system of morals.-The “ Panorama of the ture, the words by Miss Crumpe, the music by T. Cooke," is thus Maine and the adjacent country, from Mayence to Frank fort," which reviewed:-"A very charming little morceau of composition, the has just been published, is a rery useful addition to Mr Leigh's trawords by the fair author of the novel of Desmond. While the music, velling guide-books. It is a bird's-eye view, combining the map and we are persuaded, will be admired, the words are already familiar to panorama in one, and will be found a very acceptable companion to our readers, having been published with the name of Mr Campbell the English traveller.-A paper on the Siamese Youths has been read affixed to them. This may seem to demand explanation. We be- at the Royal Society, and the interest was much increased by the Jieve the secret to have been, that their fair author, diffident of her young men being present.--The Literary Union have decided, by a poetical powers, submitted the lines to Mr Campbell's judgment, who majority of 7, that cards shall not be admitted into their club. expressed himself highly pleased with them. Whether the lady had Theatrical Gossip.-Covent Garden cioses for the season about the still her doubts as to the sincerity of the commendation, we know 14th of June, when Fanny Kemble and her father will proceed upon not; but she so far probed it, that Mr Campbell, saying he should a provincial tour.-Mrs Davenport is to terminate with the present not object to publish then with his own name, he thought so well or season her professional life of thirty-five years' duration.-The new them, was instantly put to the test, and fulfilled the truth of his de | Easter picce at Drury-Lane is written by Planchè, and is upon a claration with becoming gallantry. This may account for the lines Chinese subject. At Covent Garden Peake is the author, and his appearing at present under another, the real authorship." We do not drama is foun
drama is founded on Cooper's novel of the Pioneers.-An English know whether to admire most in this instance the good faith of Miss version of Rossini's “ Cinderella' is almost ready for representation Crumpe or of Mr Campbell.
at Covent Garden,-Miss Paton to play Cinderella, -Young has been