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Society, and General Reid's bequest for the endowment more would have been sold, especially as the name is a of a Professorship of Music. tractive, and the contents interesting.

There are three little poems, all of which have alrea appeared in print; but which, for their intrinsic exc The first is e A Portrait of John the Baptist; or, an Illustration of his lence, we wish to transfer to our pages. History and Doctrine. By Henry Belfrage, Ď.D. titled Minister of the Gospel, Falkirk. Edinburgh. William Oliphant.

1830.

THE BRIDEMAID.

By Thomas Haynes Bayley.

THERE is no tendency more apparent at present, than" The bridal is over, the guests are all gone, a desire to publish religious memoirs founded on the The bride's only sister sits weeping alone; most absurd events, and filled with the most extravagant The wreath of white roses is torn from her brow, and disgusting details. In truth, this species of religious And the heart of the bridemaid is desolate now. hypocrisy becomes every day more and more intolerable. It With smiles and caresses she deck'd the fair bride, is principally exhibited, we are sorry to confess it, amongst And then led her forth with affectionate pride; the female part of the community-and that, too, not ex- She knew that together no more they should dwell, clusively amongst old maiden aunts or dotard grand-dames, Yet she smiled when she kiss'd her, and whisper'd farewell but even amongst the young, the beautiful, and what we had hitherto deemed the intelligent portion of woman-Nor send her sweet sister in sadness away: "She would not embitter a festival day, kind. We cannot, in fact, make a forenoon's call, with- She hears the bells ringing-she sees her departout the fear of being involved in a lengthened discus- She cannot veil longer the grief of her heart. sion on predestination, justification by faith, or some of

the other Lutheran and Calvinistic points-and with-" She thinks of each pleasure each pain that endears! out hearing simpering Mademoiselles whine, about what The gentle companion of happier years;

LINES

TO EDWARD LYTTON BULWER, ON THE BIRTH OF HIS CHILD.

By Thomas Campbell.

they term prevailing heresies, in the most pathetic lan- The wreath of white roses is torn from her brow,
guage and most doleful imagery ever engendered by fana- And the heart of the bridemaid is desolate now.""
tical cant, or sickly sentimentalism. Each little coterie, The next is some lines by Campbell:
too, has its peculiar standard of theology; for while some,
in the profundity of their ignorance, reprobate the dry
morality of Blair, or the turgid declamation of Chalmers,
others appeal to the Memoirs of that inestimable specimen
of modern conversionists, Miss Isabella Campbell, as re-
presenting Christianity in the most winning and attrac-
tive light. We hate quackery in every thing, especially
in religion; and we cannot on any occasion tolerate an
intermeddling spirit, particularly on Christian polemics.
The evil is sufficiently great when confined to private
backbiting associations, but it becomes more dangerous
when the press is made the instrument for promulgating
the most loathsome lucubrations.

We may revert, ere long, to this topic; but in the meantime, we have much pleasure in exempting the work now before us from the general censure. It delineates the character of one whose elevated sanctity, indefatigable zeal, and generous self-denial, are well calculated to interest and improve the heart. We question whether Bishop Horne-a previous writer on the same subjecthas accomplished his task with more taste and feeling than Dr Belfrage. Each divine, indeed, pursues a different mode of illustration; but we think that, without descending to unnecessary minuteness, our author has depicted the Baptist's life and doctrines with greater clearness and precision. His remarks are throughout candid and forcible; his reasoning altogether free from sophistry; and his diction, without being cumbered with ornament, uniformly chaste, and frequently eloquent. In short, considering the subject itself, and the ability with which it is handled, this little volume well deserves public attention, which we have no doubt it will speedily receive.

The Lady's Poetical Album.

Glasgow. Richard Griffin and Co. 1830. 12mo. Pp. 384. THIS is a good selection of fugitive pieces by the judicious Editor of the "Literary Coronal." Some original poems are also interspersed; but, generally speaking, we cannot bestow upon them very high praise. Neither are we well pleased with the external appearance of the book. In this age of crimson binding and gilt leaves, we should have looked for something more tasteful than light yellow boards on the "Lady's Poetical Album." The price is four shillings and sixpence; had it been increased to five shillings, and the quality of the paper and boarding improved, we venture to say that many hundred copies

a

"My heart is with you, Bulwer, and pourtrays
The blessings of your first parental days;
To clasp the pledge of purest, holiest faith,
To taste one's own and love-born infant's breath,
I know, nor would for worlds forget the bliss;
I've felt that to a father's heart that kiss,
As o'er its little lips you smile and cling,
Has fragrance which Arabia could not bring.
Such are the joys, ill mock'd in ribald song,

In thought, e'en fresh'ning life our lifetime long,
That give our souls on earth a heaven-drawn bloom;
Without them, we are weeds upon a tomb.
Joy be to thee, and her whose lot with thine
Propitious stars saw Truth and Passion twine!
Joy be to her who, in your rising name,

Feels love's bower brighten'd by the beams of Fame!
I lack'd a father's claim to her but knew
Regard for her young years so pure and true,
That when she at the altar stood, your bride,

A sire could scarce have felt more sirelike pride."

The third is the following little gem, which none but lady of true and delicate sensibility could have written:

I DO NOT LOVE THEE.

By Miss Sheridan.

"I do not love thee! no-I do not love thee!
And yet, when thou art absent I am sad;
And envy even the bright blue sky above thee,
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad.

"I do not love thee!-yet, I know not why,
Whate'er thou dost seems still well done, to me-
And often in my solitude, I sigh,

That those I do love are not more like thee!

"I do not love thee!-yet, when thou art gone,
I hate the sound (though those who speak be dear)
Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone
Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear.

"I do not love thee-yet thy speaking eyes,
With their deep, bright, and most expressive blue,
Between me and the midnight heaven arise
Oftener than any eyes I ever knew.

"I know I do not love thee !-yet, alas!

Others will scarcely trust my candid heart;
And oft I catch them smiling as they pass,
Because they see ine gazing where thou art.'

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We have pleasure in observing in this little volume a form, and communicating to it the expression of passion good number of pieces from the Edinburgh Literary Jour-and intellect. It is chiefly in the two attributes of beaunal; we are glad, for the sake of our correspondents, to ty and individuality of character that we are struck with see their contributions so very frequently extracted else- the difference between art in its infancy, and art in an where. advanced state. Susceptibility to the impressions of the beautiful must, like all our capacities, be refined and The Literary Gleaner, No. I. January, 1830. Dumfries. strengthened by habitual converse with its objects; and the same thing holds good in regard to the power of renR. Palmer. 8vo. Pp. 32. dering form. The first attempts at representing the THIS is the first Number of a work upon the plan of forms of external nature are rather rude hieroglyphical the "Cabinet," and other popular selections. The neat- indications, than imitations. A child draws a few strokes, ness and accuracy of the typography reflect much credit and calls them a house; a savage or an uneducated per. upon the provincial press of Mr Palmer, who, we be- son makes a rude outline, in which we can trace some lieve, is the Editor. He appears also to have made a distant resemblance to the human form, and are hence judicious choice in the articles he has fixed on to com- led to infer that it was meant to represent a man. The mence his labours with. They are "The Tall Major's knowledge acquired during a succession of generations Story," from that clever book, "Stories of Waterloo,"- must be accumulated in one person, before such truth in Helen Irving, a Domestic Tale," from the " Winter's all the details of the human figure can be obtained, as Wreath,"-" The Convict Ship," by T. K. Hervey, we find in the Laocoon or the Venus. The union of a "The Loves of the Learned," by Mr Macnish, from one greater susceptibility to the beauty of objects, with a of the Annuals, -"A Manuscript found in a Mad-greater readiness in creating exact counterparts of the house," by the Author of " Pelham," from the "Lite- forms we see, is that part of art which can be taught. rary Souvenir,”—" A Ballad about Love," by the Et- Passion must be inherent ;—a man must have naturally trick Shepherd, from the Literary Journal, and "The vivid and intense feeling, or he will never be able to comFirst and Last Dinner," by Mr Mudford, from Black- municate its expression to his works. Intellect is dewood's Magazine.

A Catechism of Arithmetic, for the use of Schools and Private Families. By James Whitelaw. Edinburgh. 1829. 12mo. Pp. 110.

veloped by a culture of its own, and must likewise be possessed by the artist if he would transfuse it into his ist; and in proportion as a man possesses them, in a creations. These combined powers form the perfect art

greater or less degree will his works advance to or recede from, perfection. Let us for a moment apply this stand

THE author of this work says, he has often had to re-ard to the works of Mr Greenshields. gret the want of interest which children generally mani- In regard to the power they evince of reproducing the fest towards arithmetic as a study. "This he has been forms of external nature, though our praise must be very inclined to attribute to the dull mechanical manner in limited, still we consider that they stand greatly above which the different rules are too frequently presented to the works of Thom. The feet of two of the female | them, without a single hint regarding either their prin- figures are really respectably executed. All the details, ciples or practical use." The system he now offers is however, are only hieroglyphically represented. calculated, he thinks, to arrest the attention, strengthen wrinkles of the brow, the insertion of the nails, the cross the judgment, and bring into repeated exercise the reason-lines at the joints, the representation of the hair, are not ing powers of the youthful mind.

The Polar Star of Entertainment and Popular Science, and Universal Repertorium of General Literature. For the Quarter ending at Christmas, 1829. Vol. II. London. H. Flower. 1830. 8vo. Pp. 421.

THIS is the best selection extant from the Reviews, Magazines, Journals, and new publications of the day.

Aa Apology for the Established Church in Ireland; being
an attempt to prove that its present state is more pure
than in any period since the Reformation By the Rev.
Henry Newland, B.D. Vicar of Bannon. Dublin.
William Curry, Jun. & Co. 1829. Pp. 264.
THIS is a book we have not read, but we are told it is
pretty good.
It is very fervent in defence of the Protes-
tant Ascendency.

MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE.

SCULPTURE-MR GREENSHIELDS' JOLLY

BEGGARS.

The

accurate copies of what we see in nature, but strokes hollowed out by the stone-cutter to indicate that nature has assumed certain forms in these places which he has not been able to represent exactly. In like manner, the rounding of the faces is not that exact counterpart of nature which gives a look of reality to the productions of the true artist. There is a squareness about them, producing the impression that "this is an inert mass, fashioned into something approaching pretty nearly to the human form." A still more serious objection is the want of proportion in the parts, and the resting contented with finishing the extremities, while no attempt has been made to indicate those parts of the form which are covered by the clothes. We may also add, as another fault, the want of keeping in different parts of the same figure. The female in the soldier's arms, and the Balladsinger, are striking instances of the fact that no attention is paid to give form to the clothed trunk, an objection which applies, in a greater or less degree, to all the figures. The

female in the soldier's arms is likewise an instance of want of keeping in the parts. The face is (as far as it can be said to be any thing) that of a matron-the legs and thighs those of a very young girl-body it has none.

So much of the individual figures;-let us now speak of their arrangement. Any thing like an attempt to group them has only been made in two instances ;—one We request attention while we endeavour to state cool-group consists of the Caird and the Fiddler—the other of ly and explicitly why we hold these graven images in the Veteran and his Doxy. The rest of the figures are all atter abhorrence. We know that what we are about to hewn out singly, and placed on square slabs, to be aray will be called by some the cant of criticism. We do ranged according to the pleasure of the possessor. The hat think it so; and it is perhaps worth while asking, outline which circumscribes the figures of the Caird and whether there be not such a thing as a cant of contented the Fiddler is pleasing enough. The attitude of the Caird norance, more despicable still? is bad-he seems falling forward upon the spectator. The

The art of sculpture addresses itself to the taste; it is grouping of the Soldier and his fair one has nothing to the embodying of what is beautiful and characteristic in recommend it. She lies in his arms, and he holds her as

stiff and lifelessly as we have seen two jointed dolls, wooden leg and the clouted shoe, are most elaborately a when placed in a similar position by the ingenuity of a obtrusively finished. Nay, even in this, the artist E child. overshot his mark. The patches are all carefully a recently sewed on, the straps of the soldier's knapsack a fresh from the hands of the saddler, and the letters on t same are carefully finished after the most approved grav stone fashion. Battle and blast have left no dints he The wardrobe of the whole squad is that of a set of ge tlefolk who have sewed together some remnants to pl at make-believe beggars.

Against Mr Greenshields personally we hope we ne scarcely say, that we have no ill-will. We know him be an acute, candid, and sensible man, and we think has a good deal of natural cleverness, though he is n much of an artist. We should have left him to reap t profits of the public gullibility without saying a WO) against him, but that we conceive the outrageous puffer which has lately been bestowed on works of this calibr demands that at least a quiet protest should be entered i the name of good taste and good sense.

Lastly, a word or two of expression. Passion is the only expression which the subject admits of, and that of no very elevated character. Passion, when properly brought out, expresses itself not in the features alone, but in every muscle of the frame. There is a tension, or relaxation, of the whole man, when under its influence. Apply this test to these figures. Look at the Caird. He frowns most ominously. So far good; but look at the rest of his frame. That extended leg is not stretched like one propelling its master to a deed of death;-it drags lamely after its fellow. The Fiddler, on his part, crouches like a man who has good-naturedly placed himself in that attitude, to show the artist the relative position of the limbs--certainly not like one shrinking in bulk beneath the withering frown of a brawny ruffian. Where is the jovialty of the Hieland Carline? She stands most dignifiedly upright, with a calm, self-possessed countenance. How lifeless the embrace of the couple opposite! Com- In conclusion, and apropos of these statues, we sha pare one and all of them with their counterparts in take this opportunity of saying a few words upon a sub Cruikshank's Points of Humour. There the smack of the ject connected with the moralityof sculpture. We hope tha armless hero quivers to the toe of his "toosie drab :" it may never be our lot to utter a syllable that can jar, i there the greasy personages of the Ballad-singer and his the slightest degree, on the feeling of the most precise two Deborahs glisten with the oil of gladness. Here, on But it is just because we are conscious of our respect fo the contrary, every thing is cold and wooden. true decorum, that we feel ourselves entitled to expose al What is the end and aim of these observations? Sim- cant on the subject. Cant is a substitution of hollow ply this that, viewed as works of art, these statues can words, which uniformly betrays a real want of the feel only be considered as entitled to rank beside the produc-ing it aspires to ape. We allude to some nonsense which w tions of a rude and early period. Mr Greenshields is a occasionally hear spoken about naked figures. There is no self-taught artist, and this is a sufficient apology, as far thing indecent in a necessarily naked figure ;-indecency as regards him, for the fact, that these works, although consists in wanton attitudes, and the associations thereby we find in them here and there a happy hit, are worth suggested. Where such things are, the thickest drapery nothing as a whole; but what excuse is there for that cannot confer decency. There is nothing indecent in the spirit of humbug, which seeks to bring them forward as Venus de Medici, the Apollo, the Gladiator, or in ou objects of public admiration? A self-taught genius, strug-friend Macdonald's Ajax. The impression which the gling without external aid, and against depressing cir- contemplation of such works leaves upon the mind is, the cumstances, is a noble object; but to produce without pure feeling of different kinds of beauty. The uncontuition, in an age when instruction may so easily be ob-scious modesty of the one, the sublimity of the other, the tained, works which are nothing when compared with power and daring of the two last, are impressions that what might be produced with tuition, is a most pitiful elevate every free mind above low sensual considerations. ambition. We are afraid that it, moreover, results from If we could attribute indecency to a work of art, we would the remarks we have made, that Mr Greenshields has say that there is more in the completely clothed Soldier not shown (in these statues, at least) that native energy and his Doxy, than in all the nudities we have enumeof feeling, from which we might augur great things of rated. We say, "if we could attribute indecency to a him, if subjected to proper training.* work of art," because the feelings and reflections awakened It will be observed that we have considered this matter in all rightly cultivated minds, by the contemplation of on the footing most favourable to the artist, without en-art, are very different from those which our pseudo moquiring into the competency of the art of sculpture to re- ralists would guard against. He who can gaze on the present such subjects as he has chosen. We shall not at Venus, or the Apollo, we will even say the Leda, and feel present discuss the question, whether sculpture is capable himself alive only to such associations, may rest assured of representing the low humorous. We only know, that that taste, one of our highest capacities, is yet dormant no successful attempt of the kind has yet come under our within him—that his mental culture is yet in its infancy. notice. Rags, weather-beaten and haggard countenances, and mutilated limbs, are not in themselves amusing, but painful or disgusting, unless as contrasting with something else. In Burns's poetry, we are rapt by the glow of intense passion and high excitement. All the disagreeable concomitants are forgotten, or, if remembered, it is merely to raise a smile at their contrast with the mirth of the moment. We enter into the merriment heart and soul, but the dirt and cold harm us not. So in Cruikshank. The grotesque countenances of the personale, the expression of feeling in their figures, is elaborately brought out; while their rags are barely indicated by a few hasty scratches. In Greenshields' statues, the very reverse is the case. The feeling is feebly and inadequately indicated, while the worn-out beavers and bonnets, the ungartered hose and ragged garments, the

It is but fair, however, to state, that we understand he executed these figures upon commission; and that, at the earnest recommendation of Lord Elgin, and others of his more judicious patrons, he is anxious to commence immediately something more classical and dignified.

LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC SOCIETIES OF
EDINBURGH.

ROYAL SOCIETY.

Monday, 4th January.
PROFESSOR HOPE in the Chair.
Present,-Professors Russell and Ballingall; Drs Knox
and Russell; Robison,
Gordon,
Esquires, &c. &c.

Allan,

THE business of the evening was a paper by Dr Knox, entitled, "Observations on the structure of the stomach in the Peruvian Lama."*

*The lama, the only beast of burden possessed by the ancient Peruvians, is, of course, known by name, at least, to all our readers. Its natural history is neither very full nor satisfactory. Blumenbach classes it along with the camel, (an arrangement which seems to us to receive confirmation from Dr Knox's researches,) and enumerates two kinds :-The lama which has a pectoral projection, and its back bald (if the expression is admissible);-the vicuna, which has no projec tion, and is covered with wool. The stomach examined by Dr Knox belonged to an animal of the latter species; the stuffed skin of which is either in the College Museum, or in the house of the College Janitor. We have ourselves examined the stomach in question, and

0

Sir

was not so decided as in the camel, had overlooked the entire diversity of their structure, which showed them to be as materially different in the one as the other.

The more immediate subject of discussion was prefaced abomasus. Baron Cuvier and Sir Everard Home were by some remarks on the vague habits of reasoning in which agreed that the lama had only four stomachs; but they difthe prosecutors of natural history occasionally indulge, and fered in their description of them. The Baron admitted the narrow inductions upon which they build their theo- the existence of the paunch, the reservoir, and the two last ries. Much error had arisen, and been perpetuated, by a receptacles, denying the existence of the reticulum. simple process. A man of distinguished reputation had Everard, on the other hand, admitted the existence of the hazarded a conjecture; another, imperfectly acquainted with three first, but maintained that the space occupied in the the matter, had repeated it more decidedly in the form of an camel by the echinus and the abomasus was supplied in the assertion; and a third, entirely ignorant of the matter, had lama by a single stomach. The truth was, that the former, propagated the opinion as an ascertained fact. The anato- having only examined the stomach of a foetus, had overmist ascertained, by painful and minute observation, the looked the very small space in the superficies of the stomach, structure of organs, and he inferred from their appearance, which had the same structure with the reticulum in rumitaken in connexion with what he could learn of the na-nants. The latter, because the contraction marking the sepature of the animal's residence, its manner of life, and, in ration between the echinus and the abomasus in the lama short, from its natural history, the use to which the organ was destined. But the anatomist never would infer from an inspection of one isolated organ, the structure and habits of the whole animal. He would not infer from a piece of The essayist observed in conclusion, that he had, in comhide or bone, the figure and habits of the creature to which pliance with the common use of naturalists, spoken as if it had belonged. Much less would he, because he found there were in reality quadruple and quintuple stomachs. a few fossil bones resembling, in some degree, those of the He was, however, decidedly of opinion, that the impressions hyæna, assume, without further data, that they had belonged conveyed by such language were erroneous. Although the to an animal of homogeneous structure and habits. His form of the stomach might vary in different animals, and whole experience taught him to beware of such hasty gene- although, from this circumstance, as well as from diversified ralization. In the science of abstract form, we could infer, structure of the surface in different parts, peculiar stages of without danger, that if certain parts of figures correspond- the process of digestion might be more easily referable to a ed, the whole would do so in like manner; but we were not certain locality in some creatures than in others; yet, in all, yet sufficiently acquainted with all the possible combina- the stomach was one organ, and discharged one definite tions of form in organic structures, to admit of such a pro-function. cess of reasoning. Far less were we entitled to limit to the No member offered any remarks upon this communicanarrow range of our experience, the purposes of an Infinite tion, and the Society adjourned. Being.

THE DRAMA.

MISS JARMAN and the Pantomime have been drawing

The Essayist proceeded to observe, that he had been led to make these general remarks, by having seen the dangerous tendency of such superficial and inaccurate inductions in the statement made by Sir E. Home, respecting the structure of the stomach of the lama, as compared to that of the camel. The Baronet had affirmed, that the stomach of the former differed materially in structure from that of the lat-exceedingly good houses to the Theatre for the last ten ter; but he had been led into this error, by overlooking the days. Miss Jarman has been playing principally in genfact, that the organs of the young seldom display the com- teel comedy, and with a degree of talent sufficient to put plete structure of the adult animal. The history of the the blind admirers of Miss Foote, Miss Ellen Tree, Miss theories respecting the stomach of the camel itself, was a cu- Love, Madame Vestris, et hoc genus omne, to the blush. rious specimen of that process of reasoning he had been re- She takes her benefit next Saturday, when, for the credit probating. It was known that this animal had the power of the taste of Edinburgh, we anticipate one of the best of subsisting a long time without water; it had been as-houses of the season. It is to us very incomprehensible sumed that it possessed a power of retaining water in its stomach; and an organ being found, on dissection, seem- that Miss Jarman should have been allowed to quit Loningly adapted for such a purpose, it had been taken for don; but seeing that we have had the good fortune to granted that it was so intended. The difficulty was entirely overlooked, which arose from the fact, that we knew of no muscular and vital, or, as anatomists term it, mucous surface, with which a fluid could remain any length of time in contact, without being absorbed. The belief, that the receptacles in the stomach of the camel could retain water for a length of time unabsorbed, rested on very slender data. There were only three instances recorded. One was narraThe happy family circles which have been visiting the ted by Bruce, who must be considered (the Essayist re- Theatre of late, it has done our heart much good to see; gretted to say) an indifferent authority. Another was an and impressed as we are with the conviction that no experiment, conducted rather in a coarse manner, at the amusement could be more innocent or rational, we have College of Surgeons in London. A camel had been pur-read with sincere pleasure the lively and pithy remarks chased in a dying condition. It had been forced to drink

secure her services here, it would be worse than ungrateful if we did not avail ourselves of the approaching opportunity of showing our sense of their value. We have already said, and we again repeat, that we question whether there is an actress equally talented on the British stage.

a considerable quantity of water, (a portion had even been on the subject which appeared in the last number of poured down its throat,) and had been immediately after Blackwood's Magazine. They occur in the review of a killed, by inserting a poniard into the crevice between the poem called "The Age," which the critic informs us is cranium and the first of the vertebræ. It was kept in an the production of a London tailor. In the course of his erect attitude after death by means of suspension, was open- poem, the said tailor thus speaks of the Theatre:ed in the course of two hours, and a considerable quantity "Among them, the most prominent appears, of water found in the stomach. And is perhaps productive of the most Depravity in man, the theatre; That den of thieves, that ultimate resource Of all the wanton, profligate, and vileThat haunt of harlots-nursery of viceGrand focus of iniquity, which draws Within its circle all impurity,

The camel was one of those animals which had, in the common language of naturalists, five stomachs. From the sophagus the food passed into the paunch; thence into a second receptacle, which, from its consisting almost entirely of those vessels in which the water was supposed to be retained, had been denominated the reservoir; thence into what corresponded to the second stomach (reticulum) of ruminating animals; beyond these lay the echinus and the

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Profaneness, gross impiety, and crime-
Temple of Satan".

Upon these lines the reviewer makes the following excel-
lent commentary:

"Stop, Snip. Do you mean that, you tythe, for a description of our Edinburgh Theatre? If you do, down with your trowsers, and take a taste of the knout. Look at the pit, you vulgar fraction. A more decent set of people never sat in a church. 'Haunt of harlots,' indeed! How dare

you, you nine-pin, to calumniate the citizens, the citizens' One spot of brightness in the gloom profound
wives, and the citizens' daughters of Modern Athens? Flings its pure flame upon the darkness round-
Nursery of Vice! Why, you Flea, every countenance One gleam of joy to drooping nature given
there is mantling with a harmless happiness, while Murray; Lights up its torch, and wide illumines heaven.
or Mackay, is diffusing mirth over the smiling semicircle!
Grand Focus of Iniquity! Confound your impudence, you
Louse, not a householder there who does not pay his taxes,

native element.

rity, gross impiety, and crime! You Bug, you must have dined to-day on poisoned cabbage, and the fumes have wrapt your brain in delirium. But list! You must keep a better tongue in your head, else even your profession may not save you from punishment; and with nice adaptation of instrument to criminal, some cit will apply the little toe of his left foot to your posteriors, and make you jerk along Shakspeare Square like a bit of Indian rubber.

God of our fathers!" thus the prophet cries,—

please his wife, educate his children, and go to church twice“ Omnipotent, eternal, only wise ;—
every Sabbath. Temple of Satan! Were Satan, you Thou, mighty Lord, at whose supreme command
Dung, to dare to show his face on the critic row, these I led this people forth from yon proud land!
two strapping students of divinity would kick him into his Oh! look upon them now, as thou hast done,
Within its circle all profaneness, impu- Ere yet thy great deliverance was won-
Ten times the pestilence came down from thee,
Thy might asserting and their vanity;
And yet once more, God of our fathers, show
Thy arm of might to impious man below!"
Then o'er the clamorous sea he stretch'd his hand,
And o'er old Ocean swept his potent wand;—
The waves, loud-roaring, knew the awful sign,
The prophet-priest, the Almighty voice divine;
Back from their gulfs indignantly they roll'd;
The briny deeps their cavern-glooms unfold;
Lo! on a sudden, to the astonish'd sight
The realms long lock'd in darkness wake to light;
The scaly monsters of the deep are seen
Struggling, affrighted, mid their meadows green;
And myriad wrecks lay scatter'd all around,
Calmly reposing on the wave-wash'd ground.
They mark the mariner's chill, cheerless tomb
Low in the rock-crags of the ocean womb,—
They see all strange and unimagined things
That dwell beneath the waves, the water's wanderings.

Or look at the boxes. Ultimate resource of all the wanton, profligate, and vile!' What do you mean, you miscreant? Why, that beautiful young bride is yet in her honeymoon, and the angel on her right hand is to be married on Thursday to that handsome hussar, whose irresistibles you yourself made, and they do you infinite credit. A hundred, fair and innocent as she, are all shedding such tears as angels weep for

'The gentle lady married to the Moor,' so gently personified by the gentle Miss Jarman.

'Fling him ower-fling him ower!'

Such is the cry of all the gods in the gallery, and Snip plays spin at half-price from heaven, and loses his life for sixpence."

To this highly original defence of our acted drama, it is unnecessary at present to add a syllable; but if any one north of the Tweed ever dares to question the morality of our stage, let him remember the tailor, and look for a similar castigation at the hands of

Old Cerberus.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

THE PASSAGE OF THE RED SEA.

By the Author of "The Opening of the Sixth Seal."
SILENT they stood upon the red shore sand,
That chosen race, the Heaven-directed band ;-
Outstretch'd immense, before them roll'd the sea,
Proud of its fathomless profundity,-
Behind, the regal ranks in long array,
With arms bright flashing to the cloudless day;
And upon all, the sun-god, flaming high,
Sent down his darts of fury from the sky.

Silent they stood upon the sands-for fear
Had traced her tale upon the pale cheeks there;
No arm of man could ward the impending doom,
Nor snatch their thousands from the threatening tomb;
No wiles elude the dread destroyer's dart,
Nor work a way for Israel to depart ;-
The waves before were gaping to devour
Behind, the king, with Egypt's arm'd power-
Below, the herbless sands-above, the sky-
Then what defence from coming tyranny?

The righteous ruler of the chosen race,
To heaven uplifts his hope-enkindled face;
Uplifts his hand to heaven, while, far behind,
His snow-white locks stream tremulous to the wind;
Bright beam'd the priest's pale cheek to Heaven upturn'd,
And in his eye prophetic rapture burn'd;
Mid the despairing ranks he stood alone,
Hopeful himself where other hope was none :
Such as, when through the shadows of the storm
The half-veil'd sun displays his glorious form,

Backward they went indignantly-with roar
More loud than billows breaking on the shore;
As if a mighty wind had swept them, they
Recoil'd, and wide was left the waveless way.
Oh! onward now, thou Heaven-protected band,-
The sea hath hearken'd to your Lord's command!
On either side, like a huge wall they rise-
The foaming waters to the sun-lit skies ;-
The tempest raves, the ocean rolls no more,
A path of safety summons you before;
Then onward now!—the dark dry deeps dare all,
The hand of God is on that liquid wall!

They rush-they run-the host, the chosen race,
Harmless and glad, tread Ocean's dwelling-place.
The tyrant-king, like baffled tiger, views
His passing prey, and fearlessly pursues;
Onward they haste upon the Red-sea shore,
And trace the pathway seldom trod before.

But now the trial of the true is done,

And down heaven's steep swift wheels the setting sun :
Safe from their pathway strange the chosen come,
Some chanting anthems, whispering prayers some;
And lo! bright glittering, behind them far,
In the last sun rays, shone the pomp of war;
One brief bright glance the prophet turns to heaven,
One heartfelt prayer to the deliverer given-
Then once again he waves his potent wand,
Wing'd with the mighty voice of God's command:
Old Ocean hears ;-the waters vast obey-
They rush impetuous on the trodden way—

Prone o'er the trembling ranks they haste-they sweep—
Dash on the hosts, and revel through the deep;
The proud array of battle scatter'd all,
Before the tumult of the storm they fall;-
Egyptia's gorgeous chivalry is gone,
And one vast waste of waves is seen alone,
Save where, at intervals, a struggling cry
Tells of some sinking wretch's agony,-

Or where some war-steed, in his fierce despair,
Fills with white foam the hot and breezeless air ;-

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