ePub 版


NO. I.


SIR,-I have long had it in contemplation to put forth a little work, illustrated with figures, descriptive of various feats of strength and activity, on the expert performance of which I confess that I was too apt to be vain-glorious in former days, when, like other hair-brained mad caps, I "carried more sail than ballast ;" and when to be tripped at foot-ball,-to be distanced in the race, or, in short, to be second-best in any gymnastic exploit, was held by me in more dread than a broken head or a fractured limb, the which that I should have escaped, I hold to be next to a miracle. As I entertain some little regard for the editor of the Kaleidoscope, I enclose you a specimen of a work from which I anticipate more renown than profit. You were the first to introduce to the British public the celebrated Geoffrey Crayon, whose Sketch Book first appeared in your little "utile dulci." I now make you the first offer of my Sketch Book, for such it may be called, as it will abound with diverse sketches, similar to that which accompanies this first section.

If you choose to usher my Gymnasia, piece-meal, into the world, I promise you that, whenever I publish the whole in one volume, as I mean to do, you shall " snacks," should any profit accrue therefrom. go


institution must of necessity lessen the quantum of human

The fatal occurrence, yesterday, at the Prince's Dock,
has afforded, and will afford, great scope for the display of
the utility of the society; and, as appropriate rewards
ought to be distributed to the brave fellows (particularly
to one courageous man, a seaman) who exerted themselves
so nobly in endeavouring to save the lives of their fellow-
mend, to a liberal public, that the funds of the society
creatures, I have thought it incumbent upon me to recom-
should receive such an augmentation, at the hands of the
benevolent, as will enable the committee to perform the
most pleasing part of their duty.
Yours, &c.

Monday morning.

this melancholy affair, state that the accident arose from a
* The penny papers which have been circulated describing
from the quay to a vessel, from which stage they were wit-
number of persons crowding upon a temporary stage, leading
nessing two boys endeavouring to draw up by a string a bot-
dock. Owing to the weight of the persons (20 or 30 in num-
tle, supposed to contain spirits, which had fallen into the
ber) the stage gave way, and the whole were precipitated
scription. The regular papers will no doubt give ample de-
into the water, when a scene ensued which baffles all de-
tails of this frightful occurrence, in which no fewer than six
persons are stated to have lost their lives!


to the French author.


INDEX TO THE KALEIDOSCOPE.-The Inde last, will be published immediately after the present nun of the Kaleidoscope, and as the proprietors wish to call public attention to this Index, as being the best possible gratis to every person applying at the Office. vertisement of the contents of their work, it will be deliv the Printers, and of the London and Country Agents: with a GROUND PLAN of the INTERIOR of that exten

the fourth annual Volume, which terminated on Tue

The following detached Publications may also be ha

A Perspective VIEW of the LIVERPOOL NEW MARK
Structure.-Price Sixpence.

An elegantly engraved VIEW of the LIVERPOOL TO
full Description of that admired Edifice.-Price Sixpenc
[This publication is adapted to binding with the Kaleidosco
A MAP and DESCRIPTION of the celebrated MAMMO
CAVE (several miles in extent) in North America-Pi

months, and 12 days.-Price Sixpence.
lately died in the Liverpool Workhouse, aged 110 years

pool ROYAL INSTITUTION.-Price Fourpence.
Mr. ROSCOE'S DISCOURSE on the Opening of the Li
A full Account of the Origin, Progress, and present St
particulars of its management.-Price One Shilhilg.


This Day (TUESDAY) the 6th instant, at NINE o'clock
Principal Vocal Performer, Mrs. CORRAN.


an English audience. Her Sister will assist in a Duet

formances, will this night make her first appearance bef Two Harps.


in discussing Le Sage's obligations to Spanish authors, SIR,—It is rather unfortunate that your correspondents, should not have consulted the Monthly Review, vol. 102, I shall commence my series with one of the most simple candid summary of "Llorente's Observations on the Ro-derful abilities have been the admiration of upwards page 535, where they might have found a very clear and A Child only three years and seven months old, whose w and least hazardous feats to be found in my copious col-mance of Gil Blas." The reviewer seems to agree with Twenty Thousand Persons, who have witnessed her P lection; one, in which, should the pupil fail, he will not endanger life or limb: but I give timely notice that I shall have to describe certain exploits which the weak or timid must not venture upon, as there is no little peril in their accomplishment. I shall, however, never fail to put your youthful readers on their guard on such points, in imitation of the learned author of one of our books on cookery, who, after describing certain dishes which make one's mouth water, informs us, by way of caution, that the gout will be the probable consequence of indulging in such dainties. But it is time to introduce you to my first figure, who is here at your service, going to perform a very simple


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SCHEME.-PART I. "Oh! softly Sleep, my Baby Boy.". GRAND MARCH, composed, and dedicated to The Scottish Air of "Roy's Wife," with Variahis Majesty George the IV. by Don C. Bruguera in which will be imitated the Bugle, Drum, and other Military Instruments tions, on the Harp, by the Young LYRA. Celestina Harmonic Waltz on the Guitar

"Ye happy Nymphs

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Grand Introductory March to the National Air
of "Patrick's Day," with a variety of much-
admired Variations on the Harp, by the
Young LYRA.

Llorente, who is said to have proved, " that only the
merit of skilful compilation and elegant version belongs
ing the work of Llorente, and am rather disappointed to
have no opportunity of consult-
find no mention of Le Sage's "Bachelier de Salamanque"
in the review; for, unless the manuscript of Solis,
which bears the same title, should be found to contain a
great deal more than the work of Le Sage, it cannot have
contributed very materially to the novel of Gil Blas.
character, for general accuracy and impartiality, than the English Country Dance, composed by Don C.Bru-
There is no periodical publication of more established
Monthly Riview; but, in the present instance, too much
reliance may have been placed on Llorente's laudable
partiality to the literature of his own country. I hazard
this conjecture because the reviewer states, that "Le Sage
translated, with little variation, the Diable Boiteux from
the Spanish of Guevra." Now, Le Sage dedicates every
successive edition to Guevra, and candidly acknowledges
himself indebted to the Spaniard for the title, the idea,
and a few pensées, observing, however, that, whilst he
passed for a mere copyist at Paris, and was only praised
there en second, the copy was translated into Spanish at
Madrid, and was become an original work: he acknow-
ledges other debts to Spanish authors in so fair a manner,
he is represented to be in the critique above referred to.
that I should be slow to consider him the mere borrower
Lancaster, June 28, 1824.

C. J.

THE INFANT LYRA.-Since we last addressed our rea




guera, and dedicated to a Lady in this town. BRUGUERA. PART II. Grand March for the Guitar, by Don C. Bruguera, "Coming through the Rye" Mrs. CORBA dedicated to the Grande Livertador of Spanish National Air on the Harp, "My Lodging is on America, General Don Simon Bolivar Cappricio, and Spanish Bolero, on the Guitar.. Bruguera. the cold Ground," by the Young LYRA. Duet for Two Harps, by the Young LYRA and her Sister," Begone, dull "The Maid of Snowdon"..... I care." "Robin Adair," "The Yellow-haired Laddie, and "God Save the King," by the Young LYRA. Mr. COHAN will preside on the Piano Forte. Tickets Five Shillings each, to be had at the Music Shops from Don C. Bruguera, at the Palace Inn, John-street. at the Courier and Mercury-offices; and at Mr. Gore's; an


To Correspondents.

THE HAUNTED CHAMBER.-The correspondent who has versifie this story will, we hope, excuse our postponing its appeal ance for another week, when he is aware of the reason which has obliged us to withdraw it after it had bee arranged in the type in our pages. As the present numbe of the Kaleidoscope is the commencement of our new ro lume, it was our wish to exhibit in its columns as muel variety as possible, in order to afford those who are no subscribers to our work a fair sample of its general nature Amongst other things it was necessary to give a specime of music; and, as the piece we have selected, short as it is spreads over three columns, it makes such inroad into ou pages as to compel us to exclude some article of moderat length. We were, therefore, obliged to sacrifice one of tw pieces of poetry we had prepared, and our arrangement made it necessary to retain the shorter piece.

ders on the subject of the extroardinary child, who is to ex-
hibit this evening (Tuesday) at Don Bruguera's Concert,
We have seen many displays of juvenile talent in our time,
we have twice witnessed her truly astonishing performance.
but we do not hesitate for a moment to award the palm to
this fascinating and matchless child, who, at the age of
three years and eight months, has acquired an execution
nothing but the testimony of our own ears could have led
upon that most difficult of all instruments, the harp, which
us to credit. Perhaps there is nothing in the scope of in-
strumental practice more difficult of accomplishment than
a shake upon the harp, and yet this infant has completely
mastered even that difficulty. Whilst her fairy fingers are
wandering amongst the strings of her instrument, her
sylph-like figure, and beautiful features lighted up and DUELLING.-The letter of P. N. already acknowledged, shal
inspired by genius, produce an effect that is so extraor-
dinary and indescribable, that more than one of her audi-
tors at our own house were affected to tears.
tion, added to others previously noticed, will be most re-
doubt that the Concert, this evening, with such an attrac-
spectably attended.-See adv.

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Literary and Scientific Mirror.


his familiar Miscellany, from which religious and political matters are excluded, contains a variety of original and selected Articles; comprehend ng Literature, Criticism, Men and Manners, Amusement, Elegant Extracts, Poetry, Anecdotes, Biography, Meteorology, the Drama, Arts and Sciences, Wit and Satire, Fashions, Natural History, &c. &c. forming a handsome Annual Volume, with an Index and Title-page.-Its circulationrenders it a most eligible medium for Literary and Fashionable Advertisements.—Regular supplies are forwarded weekly to the Agents,

No. 211.-VOL. V.

Men and Manners.


TUESDAY, JULY 13, 1824.

The observatory is much visited by astronomers from foreign countries, who go there to study the heavens, understood, no doubt, by them much better than the earth upon which they so seldom deign to look. The botanic garden is extensive, and contains many exotic plants, FROM L'RERMITE EN ITALIE, THE LATEST WORK OF MR. JOUY. which have become naturalized under the fine sun of Pisa. [Translated expressly for the Kaleidoscope.]


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The church, square, and buildings of the Chevaliers of the order of St. Stephen, instituted in 1561 or 1570, by the Archduke Cosmo, were the first objects of my attention the following day. The church contains fine pictures. The four corners of the vaults are ornamented with flags taken from the Turks and the states of Barbary by these Chevaliers, of whose order Pisa is the chief place. Their uniform is red, and they wear epaulets like those of the Colonels of the French army. The protection of maritime commerce against the states of Barbary is entrusted to this order. It is, like that of Malta, composed of high bailiffs, military commanders, priors, and other dignitaries; and, for the last four centuries at least, none but the sons of noble families have been admitted to it. The Chevaliers make no vow of celibacy. When Tuscany was united to France, they solicited from the Grand Duchess Eliza and her brother Napoleon, the support of their statutes and privileges, and the preservation of their domains; they even invited Bonaparte to wear, as their chief, their uniform and decorations; but this availed them nothing, and they were obliged to undergo the general suppression.

I remarked there a vine more than thirty feet high, and at least four feet in circumference, and took shelter under a wood of very thick laurels, from forty to fifty feet high. This town formerly contained a great number of Greek and Roman monuments. Ceres had her temple there, which is now replaced by the church and convent of St. Nicolas. The temple of Mars is now dedicated to Saint Michel.

The vestiges of the baths of Nero, now known by the name of Laconico or Sudatorio, are situated near the gate of Lucca, and excite greatly the curiosity of travellers. Their inscriptions merit particular attention. These baths were constructed at the time that Pisa was subject to the Roman empire, in the year of Rome 574. They are circular buildings with vaulted roofs, and are built against lofty rocks. They are now at the disposal of a charitable institution, and are let as dwellings to the gardeners and cultivators of the neighbouring lands. Vitruvius has left dissertations, which prove that the ancients understood much better than we do the art of making steam, and the different temperatures of heat, frigidarium, tepidarium, caldarium, and that sudatio contribute to the support and reparation of our physical powers. There were at Rome no less than eight hundred and fifty-six of these retreats of health, adorned with statues and inscriptions, and furnished with waters of all qualities, possessing, no doubt, all the properties ascribed to our fabulous fountain of youth.

The edifices of Pisa abound in Mosaic, Grecian marbles, pillars of granite, verd antique, porphyry, agate, and other precious stones, from the four parts of the world. The dome, to which Vitruvius gives the technical name of Deiptero, is interiorly supported by numerous pillars of the Corinthian order, of most varied and curious appearance. The wonderful illusion produced by the intercolumniations is rendered even more astonishing by the variety of the different objects discovered at every step, than by their stupendous magnitude, increased as it is by the imagination.

Strangers shudder as they pass a tower near the square of the Chevaliers, called Torre della fame, in which the Count Ugolino Gherardesca, with his two sons and his two grand-sons died of hunger. The Count and his children, after having been made prisoners by the party of the Archbishop of Pisa, were confined in this prison, and left there to perish. I never passed it without remembering the famous verses of Dante, who, in the thirty-third canto of the Inferno, records this tragical story in such a manner as to impress his readers with horror. He places the Archbishop Ruggieri in hell, and represents the Count Ugolino gnawing his skull. Michel Angelo has consecrated the remembrance of this frightful scene upon a marble placed in the palace of the Counts of Gherardesca, at Florence. Such has ever been, and ever will be the fury of party. On the outside is remarked a hippogriff, placed on the The church of St. Michel is celebrated for its subter-capital of a lofty pillar of white marble, at the eastern ranean choir. It encloses a marble tomb, containing another of cypress-wood, in which reposes the body of the blessed Dominican Vernagalli, a nobleman of Pisa, and the founder of the Foundling Hospital.

A small church, called Santa Maria della Spina, was built in 1230, and is famous all over Italy for its modern Gothic architecture, mingled with ornaments in Arabesque and Moresque. It possesses a twig of the crown of thorns, Worn by our Saviour. Time has caused this building to sink from fifteen to twenty feet into the ground. These two monuments, as well as many other buildings, both for cred and profane purposes, served formerly as temples to the Gentiles. The dome, of which I have spoken, occupies the site of a palace of Adrian, several parts of which have been preserved and converted into sacred buildings.

PRICE 34d.

fourth century, on the ruins of the palace of Adrian. This hippogriff, curious rather for its antiquity than its beauty, is a fathom and a third, high, and two fathoms long.

During the prosperity and opulence of the republic of Pisa, the inhabitants, in commemoration of the zone of the Holy Virgin, used, on the days of her festivals, to adorn the exterior walls of the church with a band enriched with dazzling gems, which is said to have been worth eight thousand florins of gold. It was stripped of its ornaments to supply the expenses of the republic in its decline.

I shall not leave the subject of the dome without speaking of the interior illumination of this vast church, which takes place every year, on the evening of the 14th of August. Eight thousand tapers are fastened to all the walls, and all round the pillars, and suspended from all the arches and vaulted roofs: these are lighted in the course of five minutes, so that the most dazzling brightness succeeding almost instantaneously to total darkness, the spectators imagine themselves in the midst of a vast conflagration. The tapers are disposed with so much art that they cause all the shadows to disappear, and, consequently, completely confound the distances. During this time, the spectators, crowded in the nave and collateral aisles, are delighted by fine chaunts mingled with the music of the organ, and express the pleasure they receive only by a profound silence. The illumination continues for two or three hours. The inhabitants of Pisa are, in general, so tenacious of their antiquity that they do not agree upon the origin of their rites and customs. The ceremony, however, of the illumination of their basilic is ⚫ so ancient that it is possible for it to have been transmitted to them by the ministers of the worship of Jupiter.

The magistrates of the town attend this ceremony in their robes of office. The French authorities, however, who were established there in 1809, were not deemed so far to belong to Pisa, as to be entitled to be summoned thither. The inhabitants of Pisa have, as well as the other people of Italy then united to France, always preserved the hope of maintaining their ancient customs, without confounding them with those of the French. They considered their neighbours as travellers but little disposed to return, soon or late, to the country whence they came, without being engaged to do so by the fear of new Sicilian vespers.

Besides the Roman temples I have already mentioned, extremity of the basilic, or dome. This fabulous animal there were, at Pisa, temples dedicated to Venus and Diana, has four feet, two wings, the head and talons of an eagle, and that erected by Adrian near his palace, on the ground and the gills of a cock. The neck is thick and high, the now occupied by the baptistry. The inhabitants of Pisa upper part being covered with tufts of frizzled hair, and maintain that their schools of painting, architecture, and the lower part with scales. The back is ornamented with sculpture are anterior to those of Florence and Scienna, arabesques, forming a sort of tapestry, like the covering whose inhabitants came to study the fine arts at Pisa. put on the backs of horses; the top of the thighs is also They call themselves the inventors of a style of painting plated with arabesques finer than the others. The breast denominated sgrafitte. This is a sort of fresco, known is rounded, and the head rises above the wings, which ex-also by the name of black and white, which the painters tend their points from the two fore legs to the height of execute with a paste of lime mixed with black earth, and the back part of the head. This antiquity was found in painted over with white, a sort of bluish water-colour be the excavations made in order to lay the foundations of ing made use of for the shadows and their projections. This the temple, which ascends to an exceedingly remote period, style of painting, which results from the effect produced as the church was constructed in the eleventh century, on by light and shade, recals to my mind a remark in the the foundations of that of Santa Reparatta, built in the ancient dictionary of the images of flat painting, composed

Piedmontese, the gravity of the Romans, the commercial
speculations of the Genoese, nor the gloom of the Neapoli-
tans; you will find little difference between their society
and that of the gay Parisian circles. They like, no less
than the French, company, plays, walking, dancing, and
parties of pleasure; but their favourite amusements are
gaming and music.

by Philostratus of Lemnos. "The inhabitants of Pisa | nances are darkened neither by the serious reserve of the
have," says he, "for a long time adorned Italy with the
works of their compatriots." In the island of Elba are
seen pillars inscribed with these words; Opera Pisana.
Among the numerous holy brotherhoods instituted at
Pisa, that of la Misericordia is particularly distinguished.
Its founders were, in 1053, twelve chiefs of the most noble
houses of Pisa, who united their efforts in order to afford
succour to their compatriots, taken by the states of Bar-
bary, to the needy descendants of good families, and to
orphans and young ladies without fortunes. The mem-
bers of the confraternity raise subscriptions for condemned
criminals, and provide for their funeral expenses, as well
as for those of the poor who die at their cottages, or in the
hospitals. They also extend their care to the sufferers of
unexpected and severe accidents, and assist in the extinc-
tion of accidental fires, being summoned to the scene of
danger by a bell, of which the number of strokes informs
them of the name of the street or gate whither they are to
repair. This establishment merits the applause of all
men and nations, as its benefits are extended as well to
foreigners as to natives.

I have already had the honour of seeing Monsignore
Alliata, the present Archbishop, a prelate of exemplary
piety, and a model of Christian virtue. He was extremely
reluctant to repair to the sort of council, summoned by
Napoleon, at Paris, in 1609; but the sister of Napoleon,
the Governess of Tuscany, succeeded in making him set
out for that great capital. He is, in reality, merely a
An inscription on the portal of the dome imports that Bishop; but since the eleventh century, the Bishops of
the inhabitants of Pisa freed Sardinia from the yoke of the Pisa have assumed the title of Archbishop, and have en-
states of Barbary, in the year 1034. Santo Rainieri, ajoyed a revenue of nearly two hundred thousand francs.
descendant of the noble house of Scaceieri, is the patron
saint of Pisa. The inhabitants proclaimed him the pro-
tector of their country in the year 1161, the period of his
death. On the day appointed for his festival, an immense
concourse of people from the town and territory of Pisa
repair to do homage at his tomb, which is placed under
the altar of his splendid oratory, and discovered through a
crystal, placed in front of the altar. It is composed of red
Egyptian marble, with cornices of yellow antique marble
of Sienna, and adorned with relievos of yellow and purple
Spanish marble. The superb urn of green marble of
Palsevera, surrounded by vases of flowers and gilt bronzes,
is placed upon the tomb, and within it is laid a figure of
the saint, as large as life, dressed in a monk's habit of
golden tissue, and adorned with a crown of precious stones.
The two princesses, Victoria della Rovera, the daughter
of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and Anna, his niece, the
Electress Palatine, thus invested his sacred image, and
composed the precious crown which encircles his head.

Great part of the dome of Pisa, and many of the curiosities and antiquities which it contains, were destroyed in the night of October the 25th, 1596, by a fire, occasioned by the negligence of a plumber. Ferdinand Medicis the third, Grand Duke of Etruria, caused it to be magnificently rebuilt, at his own expense, in 1602.

other; so edging up to the table where she stood, I seized
hold of a design for a screen; but what was my surprise
This was an opportunity not to be lost, and, without re
when I beheld an exact copy of the tree on the lawn!
flecting for a moment, I exclaimed, "Now, is not this
strange? who could have been so kind as to trace so beau
tifully this tree upon paper, to cheat us, perhaps, in the
hold!" said Emily, laughing, "it is hardly fair to notice
dull months of winter with the semblance of
such an humble effort in so very flattering a manner. Need
I remind you," she said, in a low tone, that too gress a
compliment is a downright insult."

Pardon me, Miss

The ladies are little seen, each being confined to her
own circle of admirers, a custom common to all Italian
women. To the Tuscans is attributed the origin of the
"I little thought, Miss F. that you were the artist,"
conditions imposed on husbands, at the time of their mar-mind it almost equals the original." I watched her thea
replied I; "but now, you must allow me to say, that in my
riage, to permit certain gentlemen to attend on their like a tiger about to seize on his prey, for I found I had
brides, not only in all the circumstances of exterior life, but her in my power. The blush which mantled on her cheek
even in the privacy of domestic society.
grew deeper and deeper, and suffused her whole face, but
without much. hesitation she said, "No, no, I have not
any false delicacy about me, but the original, in my esti-
F. but may I venture to inquire why you set such a
mation, is far preferable, and".
value on the original." I don't know why, but I feit
ashamed at the question, and would gladly have apolo
gized for my rudeness, but it was too late to retract.
You cannot, Sir," said Emily, "be acquainted with the
history of our family, or you would not thus wound my
feelings by pressing so closely a question which catnet
but be disagreeable to me. But as you seem so anxious
to force out the truth, I may, to avoid all future repeti
tion of this painful subject, inform you why I do prefer
the evening, (for I will not deny that I am the person who
this tree to any other in the world, and why I visited it in
did visit it,) and why I place such a value upon a tree
which, apparently, to a stranger, has nothing attractive
about it. It was, Sir, the gift of a dearly beloved mother,
der, then, that I should esteem it, and wish to cherish a
and during her life-time was a peculiar favourite; no won
relic bequeathed as a memento of her who is
gone. You.
perhaps, may think it foolish, but I sometimes fancy ba
pure spirit visits her favourite tree, and I can almost
imagine myself as holding converse with her; for if there be
is it not quite as reasonable to suppose that the spirit will
any foundation for the theory of the transmigration of souls,
dwell in a rose as well as in the body of an animal?
When misfortune, Sir, clouded our affairs, (here I eb-
served a tear break through her long dark eye-lashes,)
and my father was necessitated, by his sad reverse of for
tune, to forsake the home of his ancestors, I, too, was
obliged to leave it, and, lest any rude hand might destroy
my tree, I frequently visited it, and watched it with the
tenderness of a mother. Once I was surprised by you,
and have since neglected it: but one favour I may beg of
you;-do not let my mother's gift suffer from inattention,
be that hand," eried I, (for my heart beat high) "that
and for once humour, that you may oblige me."-"Cursed
would raise itself to destroy such a relic. If, Miss F.,"
I continued, "I have been impertinent, believe me, my c
riosity prevailed over my better feelings: would that I could,
by any action of mine, contribute in any degree to your
welfare! for one particle added to your happiness would
be a draught of bliss to me." Emily's brow darkened st
the language I had used; and if I were not mistaken, I
thought she threw rather a haughty glance upon me:
but before I had an opportunity of rectifying the mistake
I had committed, her father rose to wish us good night,
and, taking Emily with him, they returned home.

I have made acquaintance with Pignotti, one of the
fabulists of Italy, a native of Pisa, and a professor of the
university. He has enjoyed the favour of the governess,
who now takes the title of Grand Duchess. He is now
old and infirm. He has lately composed a little poem,
entitled la Treccia donata, in ten cantos, and having no
less important a subject than that of the Italian fair and
their attendant chevaliers. One canto is devoted to the
description of the temple of fashion; the second treats
of the origin of the cicisbeo; the third describes two rival
Italian beauties; the fourth an entertainment and ball;
in the fifth a chamber physician is brought upon the
stage; the sixth presents the picture of a casino, or re-
ceiving drawing-room, and gives the history of a challenge;
the seventh describes the temple of Folly, which ought,
indeed, to be vast, in order to contain all those who live
under the laws of that goddess; in the eighth canto, Pig
notti describes a repast; in the ninth a duel, and, in the
last, a reconciliation. Many passages of this erotic poem
contain excellent poetry; but a translation of it into a fo-
reign language would have but little attraction, as it turns
entirely upon Italian customs.

This prince also commenced, in 1601, the splendid aqueduct which furnishes the inhabitants of Pisa with water, and affords them the means of embellishing their villas and gardens. It was finished twelve years afterwards by Cosmo the Second, and cost a hundred and sixty thousand crowns. This aqueduct is supported by numerous arches, more than fifty feet high, and it is four miles in extent. The first arch is contiguous to an immense building or reservoir, built at the foot of the mountains of Pisa, and the last is close to the gate of Lucca. Some antiquarians are of opinion that its origin ascends to the time of Nero, and that Ferdinand and Cosmo only contributed to its reparation. The water which it conveys to Pisa is wholesome, and of an agreeable flavour, and is preferred at Leghorn, Florence, Lucca, and the neigh-do bouring countries, to that of the local fountains and rivers. At the two former places it is sold at the rate of four cratzes, or nearly sixpence a bucket.

As I was returning to my inn, I met, on the quay of the Arno, my friend the Imperial Attorney of Bobbio, who had been at Pisa for the last three weeks. We stopped a few moments to consider that demicircular quay, of which the view recals to the mind that of the quays at Paris. "You will be pleased," said he, "if you prolong your stay at Pisa. The inhabitants are, like all the Tuscans, affable, lively, and well informed. Their counte



(Concluded from our last.)


We were now comfortably settled in our house, my mother had all her novels, and my father had procured a whole heap of fishing tackle to amuse himself, so that with riding out and angling he managed to pass his time pretty agree ably. Our neighbours, too, began to flock around us, for though my father had been but a tallow-chandler, he carried about him that passport into every society-a welllined pocket. Amongst others came Mr. F. and his daughter Emily. My father received them with all that cordiality of feeling, that open warmth of disposition, which is the characteristic mark of an honest man; for, to him common justice, there was more good-will in his rough embrace than in the refined manners of more polished society.

I thought I perceived a blush rise on the cheek of Emily when I was introduced; but if this were not the case, crimsoned up to the eyes, for the similarity of the form, and the recollection of the rose tree rushed into my mind. After a few awkward attempts at a conversation I sat my self down, and uttered not a word. Emily seemed likeexplanation of her conduct, and busied herself in looking wise desirous of avoiding any thing that might lead to an over some drawings which by some accident had been left in the house., Aflast I began to inuster up my courage, and resolutely resolved to address her in some way or

As soon as they were gone, I retired to bed, and lay ruminating upon the occurrences of the evening. Hour after hour I wasted in this way, and the result only provid to me, what I could have guessed before, that I was i love. Now began the heart-achings and all the et cetera that follow in the train of engaged affections. Werks months I wasted thus; now and then visiting Emily father, where, of course, I had an opportunity of seei her; but still, though I grew on terms of friendship, nay intimacy, with Mr. F. I never could resolve to de clare my attachment to Emily. At last, I set forth o morning to - , the place of Mr. F.'s residence, d termined to explain myself, repeating, most valiantly, a I went along a faint heart ne'er won a fair lady." Th morning was delightful; the birds carolled their hymns praise to their Creator; the butterfly, in gaudy attire fluttered on the warm air, sailing on in the pride strength, quite heedicss of the setting sun; the fish lear in the ponds, shewing here and there their silvery bac above the rippling water; all nature laughed in th on the unjust :" but I did not join in the general harmo glance of that glorious orb which shines on the just an of nature, for my heart was heavy, and the thought losing Emily pressed upon me. "What is wealth," sal I, if I cannot compass my desires through its aid

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Here my reverie was interrupted by a shriek of distress,
and turning round I perceived a pony gallopping away
with a lady at full speed. God's! how it nerved my
arm, and added wings to my feet, when I beheld the
vicious creature fast hastening to the brink of a quarry,
and on its back, almost ready to faint through exhaustion, In a few weeks I became reconciled to my fate, sub-
my loved Emily! I rushed upon the creature, choak-mitted to the counsel of my best friends, and endeavoured
ing with desparation, and, grasping it round the neck to bear my affliction with fortitude and resignation: a
with an effort which made every sinew in my body crack lock of hair, a ring, and a letter were then given me: as
again, I succeeded in literally throwing the pony on his fast as my tears would allow me, I perused her last words
side; immediately catching hold of Emily, I drew her they were these.
from under, not much hurt by the fall, the pony luckily
being too small to cause any serious injury. I raised her
on the bank, and running to the first pool, I brought my
hat full of water, which I sprinkled on her face: signs of
returning animation quickly appeared, and she soon re-
covered sufficiently to walk home, leaning on my arm.
From that hour I became insensible to every thing but
her, and so much was I engrossed by my love, that I acted
more like a maniac than a reasonable man.

chilled, when I heard that Emily, my idol, my very heart's
blood had expired on the passage. I do not know how I
arrived home, all the recollection that I have, is, that on
my reason returning, I found Mr. F. standing over me,
with the tenderness of a father.

"My dear William,-Hear me for the last time: before
my spirit forsakes its tenement I wish to address you. 1
loved you, and had it pleased the Almighty disposer of every
event, would have been your wife; but it must be otherwise.
The lamp which lights my feeble existence waxes faint and
low; this world, its cares, and troubles are fading away.
You will receive with this a token of my regard; should it
call up one sigh for the past, it is sufficient.-Farewel


Literature, Criticism, &c.

The letter was feebly and indistinctly traced, but it left I will not trouble you with a detailed recitement of my an impression on my heart deep as the grave in which she courtship with Emily; these things are growing so common now, that every one may learn for himself; suffice it was laid. Time has, in a manner, blunted my feelings, to say, that I was accepted, and should have been married but, though "my life has fallen into the sear and yellow directly had not an event happened which I shall mention. leaf," I can never forget my first, my last, my only object Mr. F. had been a West Indian merchant, and once pos- of sincere affection. I am now grown old, my parents are sessed considerable property; but, owing to the villany of gone, and I am left alone in the wide world; but you, my his partner he had been ruined. This partner was then friends, will sympathize with me and share my griefs. I lying dangerously ill in Jamaica, and Mr. F. was advised only pray now that I may soon be permitted to share the by his friends immediately to proceed to Jamaica, and en-happiness of my departed Emily. Here he concluded. deavour to procure some tidings respecting the disposal of his property. More anxious on Emily's account than his own, Mr. F. consented, and as no inducement could prevent his daughter from accompanying him, he was obliged reluctantly to allow her to leave England with him. I, too, would have willingly joined them, but to this Mr. F. would not give permission: I prayed and intreated to call Emily mine before her departure, but in vain; from a motive of delicacy, her father would not allow his daughter to marry without giving her a portion; this he expected to be enabled to perform, if he should succeed in the affair of his partner. I thought my heart strings would have cracked when I beheld the vessel, which bore the being I loved above all on earth, fast receding from my view. I watched her as she gradually faded away, until I grew faint with the presentiments that crossed my brain: for I felt almost assured that to me she was lost for ever.

As soon as possible, I busied myself in my occupation, endeavouring to forget, for a time, that Emily was away; but every thing reminded me of her; and hour after hour would I wander on the beach, watching the red sun sink into his temporary grave, thinking that perhaps the orb that was disappearing from my sight was rising in splendour upon hers. How beautifully has Moore described the feelings of an absent lover or friend in these lines:

"How dear to me the hour when daylight dies
And sun-beams melt along the silent lea;
For then sweet dreams of other days arise,
And mem❜ry breathes a vesper sigh to thee.
And as I watch the line of light that plays
Along the smooth wave towr'd the burning west,
I long to head the path of golden rays


(From the Glasgow Free Press.)


which it cannot go. It must in time become exhausted-
original characters cannot be always invented.
that's bright must fade," and the brightness of the Great
Unknown has more or less diminished (with many a
coruscation intervening) ever since the Monastery and the

The Redgauntlet is a terribly prosing tale. The Bride
of Lammermuir and the Legend of Montrose, contain
more incident, in one volume and a half, than it does in
three. There is, moreover, no description-the salmon-
striking scene is nothing compared to a similar one in
Allan Fairford and his father are a
Guy Mannering.
thousand degrees beneath Paul Pleydell. Old Trumbell
is an unnatural and improbable hypocrite, not half so well
drawn as Gilbert Glossin. Redgauntlet, as a political
enthusiast, comes far short of either Calverhouse on the
the one side, or Balfour on the other. Foxley, the justice,
is a cipher compared with Justice Ingleby in Rob Roy,
as his clerk is to Jobson in the same novel; and Wander-
ing Willie must hide his diminished head before Edie
Ochiltree. The letters in the first volume are tedious
and wire-drawn. The narrative in the other two is dis-
connected and made up in the way of common novel
writers-leaving off just when the interest is excited, to
begin another long story. These are the main faults of
the work, and, in our opinion, they are sufficient to damn

But still there are redeeming beauties-flights which could only proceed from the bow of our great Northern Ulysses. The character and the tale of Nanty Ewart, the smuggler, are admirable and original;-a smuggler now, and a pirate formerly:-not the villanies of his present profession, nor the horrid barbarities of his late onenot continued intoxication, nor habitual blasphemy, can efface from his conscience one ever-gnawing feeling, arising from the seduction of a young female, who, her chastity gone, lost her remaining virtues, became a thief, and was sent to the plantations-her poor mother turned out of doors, and dying in a workhouse. Though there were no aggravating circumstances in the seduction-yet still her former innocence, and her present fate, her mother's happiness and her mother's end, were ever before the eyes of the drunken and blaspheming smuggler and pirate-he was dying of the worm within, and the cankerings of his heart are well delineated.

The Housewife.

"Housekeeping and husbandry, if it be good,
Must love one another as cousins in blood":

The wife, too, must husband as well as the man,
Or farewel thy husbandry, do what thou can."
To choose Butter, Cheese, and Eggs.-When you buy
butter, trust not to that part which will be given you, but
try it in the middle, and if your smell and taste be good,
you cannot be deceived.

Cheese is to be chosen by its moist and smooth coat; if old cheese be rough coated, rugged, or dry at top, beware of little worms or mites; if it be over full of holes, moist, or spongy, it is subject to maggots; if soft or perished places appear upon the outside, try how deep it goes; the greater part may be hid.

The man who adds another string to the lyre of human enjoyment, deserves well of his country-how much then must that man deserve who every half-year produces, from his fruitful imagination, a new store of delight, fresh as the dew drops of the early morn, and beautiful as the Iris that arches the azure sky? The Author of Waverley has contributed a vast stock to the fund of imaginative felicity. The creations of his fancy are pregnant with Vich ian Vhor, the eccentric and kind-hearted Baron enjoyment. The characters of the brave and devoted Bradwardine, with his bears and boot-jacks the poor idiot Davie Galletly, with his leal cunning, the two dogs Dan and Busker, with the glorious and soul-inspiring loyalty and self-devotion of Flora M'Ivor, are dear to our recollection in Waverley-then Dominie Sampson, with his learning and his simplicity-poor Meg Merrilies, with her supernatural energies, and her simply natural feelings (we could almost weep our eyes out at the exquisite pathos with which she laments the loss of her humble cottage) Dirk Hatteraick, with his stern, and Gilbert Glossin, with his sly villanies, Paul Pleydell, that prince of advocates, and Dandie Dinmont, that prince of honest hearts and iron frames-the living images of Guy Mannering-and Eggs-Hold the great end to your tongue; if it feel our good friend Monkbarns, with his veneration for the warm, it is new; if cold, bad; and so in proportion to the press, sanctifying, in our eyes, all his whims for preto-heat or cold is the goodness of the egg. Another way to riums, old coins and long laddles-the fisherman at the know, is to put the egg into a pan of cold water; the funeral, old Edie Ochiltree full of good-natured craftiness, fresher the egg, the sooner it will fall to the bottom; if the high-spirited young Highlander and the seal, together rotten, it will swim at the top. This is a sure way not to with the aristocratic Baronet and his cunning charlatan be deceived. As to keeping eggs, we have already given Dunsterswivel in the Antiquary. Then, in our opinion, receipts. In addition, if you place them all with the the chief production of all, Old Mortality, abounding small end downwards in fine wood-ashes, and turn them with incident and delineation-the period of the covenant, once a week end-ways, you will find that they will keep when Scotland would not tamely endure a corrupt Kirk good some months.-Economist. and an arbitrary King-Balfour of Burley, with his fearleessness and desperate fanaticism, the maniac Mucklewrath, the sonorous Kettledrumle, the gallant but bloody Claverhouse, the crafty clown Cuddie and his crafty helpmate-the old Lady Bellinden, with the eternal dejeuner -the unfortunate Calf Gibbie, Cuddie's mother, with her love for the cause, sadly battling in her mind with the "Adieu, adieu to grief; sorrow, for once I bid thee fears for her son, and the finest character of all, the young farewell: the white sails are swelling in the wind; the preacher Macbríar, dying in a consumption, yet still ani- Pepper. An artificial pepper is being hawked about for Vessel comes onward in gay and gallant trim: adieu to mated with divine energy in the cause of his God-but we sale, against which the public should be on their guard. It care, for the hollow oak that bears thy loved form will must not proceed, otherwise we shall fill the paper with a is brought from France, and consists of a composition of quickly bring thee before my aching eyes." I was apos- mere catalogue of portraits, painted with all the freshness of peraicious ingredients, viz.-brasica napers, over which trophising thus to myself, as the vessel in which Emily Teniers, all the richness of Rubens, all the colouring of Ti-a paste made of flour mixed with a little powder of and her father were coming home, came sweeping ma- tian, and all the splendour, power and boldness of Raphael. Cayenne pepper, or mustard seed, has been carefully laid jestically down the river. What were my feelings then? but We envy not the Great Unknown all the vast sums he is and dried. This is one of the mischievous consequences of grow sick,-the painful conclusion must be hastened. said to have realized-half the mines of Mexico would not the practice of smuggling: and another and a most dreadEagerly I jumped on board, and grasping the hand of give more happiness to his species than he has furnished ful one is, in the gin smuggled from Holland, which is alMr. F., who stood before me, inquired for Emily. Oh! for them. But mighty and teeming as the human ima-ways strongly impregnated with sugar of lead.-Lewes great God, how my brain whirled round, how my blood 'gination of our author is, still there is a point beyond paper.

And think 'twill lead to thy bright Isle of rest.” There is, however, even in the most callous hearts, a sickening suspense attendant on the absence of those we love, which paralyzes our faculties; but I, formed by nature, as it were, of a peculiarly sensitive feeling, experienced more than I can describe. Days, weeks, months, passed away and no tidings of Emily: but at last, a cheering ray broke through the gloom. A gentleman recently arrived from Jamaica had seen and conversed with Mr. F., and he said, they were then about to leave the island for England. Oh what joy for me! I could have hugged the narrator in my arms; but when he mentioned the vessel's name I was almost frantic, for I had been told that she was expected daily.

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Cheese-vending Impostors.-Some men are travelling about Sussex with cheese for sale, for which they obtain a good price by the following stratagem:-Into each cheese small piece, of exqusite flavour, is curiously dovetailed, and from which they invariably draw their tasters, while the article itself, upon being afterwards cut, is found to be scarcely worth 2d. per pound.




Oh, sweet on evening's spicy zephyr borne,
Sweet are the echoes of the mellow horn;
And sweet the murmurs of the summer sea,
Slumbering in ocean cave so tranquilly;
Yes, sweet,-yet, kindred feeling, who not owns
How sweeter far thy rapture-breathing tones?
Sweet is the hour of morn-the tranquil eve,
In which the heart forgets almost to grieve;
Sweet is the perfume of the musky rose,
And sweet it is with Fancy to repose;
Oh, sweet! but sweeter far, when ours to hold
Communion blest with hearts of kindred mould.
Sweet is the silver moon's reflected beam,
Upon the waters of a babbling stream;
And sweet, as meets the ear the voice of Time,
Sweet is the village bells' responsive chime;
Oh, sweet! but sweeter far the syren tone
Of kindred feeling, mingling with our own!
Oh! if amid this dreary wilderness,
Be aught resembling angel blessedness;
If to mortality be ever given,

On earth, a foretaste of the joys of heaven;

It is, when sympathy, with genial hand,

Binds heart with heart in kindred feeling bland!

And sweet with dark adversity to cope,

Though reft of joy, bereft almost of hope;

The figure was clothed with a robe all be-ruffled;
Her features were hidden, her face was so muffled;
She stalk'd to my bed, and the curtains undrew,
Then laid herself down; as I live, it is true.
But though a kind girl is my greatest delight,
I had no inclination to lie with a sprite;
So I moved further off, till I lay on the post,
And left my warm bed to this comical ghost;
While I crept, in a tremor, the bed-clothes beneath,

I fancied I heard my strange bed-fellow breathe.

I listened; the breathing I heard as before,
And louder it grew, till 'twas almost a snore.
Think I, for a phantom, 'tis funny enough,
It sure must be made of corporeal stuff;
So I softly extended my hand to the form,
And, touching it, found it substantial and warm;
And, by her respiring so loudly and deep,

I judged 'twas some lady who walked in her sleep;
I car'd not how long such a spirit should linger,
When, alas! I discover'd a ring on her finger!
I rais'd her soft hand, and removed it with care;
Says I to myself, "This will tell who you are."
That instant my bed-fellow threw off the clothes,
And though fast asleep, started up on her toes;
Then backwards and forwards she glided about,
And as she came in-she at last glided out.

I laugh'd at the spectre that made all the riot,
And after a yawn or two rested in quiet.
This curious event so disturbed my repose,
'Twas late in the morning before I arose.

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When I entered the breakfast-room, smiling and hearty,
Assembled I found the whole family party:
Their inquiries at once were directed to me,

With "How did you rest, Sir?" and "What did you see?" Said I" ere I speak of this wonderful thing

The lowly peasant's "ivy-mantled" cot;

I must learn who it is owns this emerald ring." None claimed the bright bauble, till Emily said, "Good Heavens! 'tis my ring; where was it mislaid." "Mislaid," said I, laughing, "where Miss laid herself, For you are the ghost, my fair cousin, yourself: And strange as it seems, now, good people," I said, "Last night Cousin Emily slept in my bed."

Oh, blest, thrice blest, beyond rude fate's control,

If ours the intercourse of soul with soul!

"You are joking," cried one; "tis too hard," said another, While Emily tried her confusion to smother;


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And sweet obscurity's unenvied lot,


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▲ POETICAL EPISTLE FROM A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN THE COUNTRY When a lady commits a faux-pas in her sleep;


Safe scated at uncle's, to promises true,

I send the good news, my dear brother, to you.

So cheerful the house of our worthy relation,

I never enjoyed such a pleasant vacation:

Good sporting, good neighbours, good living, good wine,
And the good of all goods, female beauty divine;
For all our fair cousins (don't envy me, pray)
Are handsome, accomplish'd, enchanting, and gay;
Though in all the attractions with which they are blest,
The elegant Emily soars o'er the rest.

But 'tis time I descend from heroics, to tell
The wond'rous adventure which lately befel:
Arrived at our uncle's old mansion, I found

A numerous party assembled around;

The chambers all occupied (so said our host)

Save one that was plagued with, what think you?-a ghost!

I thought they were quizzing, but all my fair cousins

Most gravely asserted that spirits, by dozens.

Were seen from this terrible chamber to come,
And nobody ventur'd to sleep in that room.
I laugh'd at the bugbear, and frankly declared,
I'd sleep in the room, tho' the devil appeared.
My courage was highly extolled, as you'll think,
And applauded by beauty, pray, how could I shrink?
I vow'd that I'd cheer with good spirits my heart,
And that should keep all evil spirits apart.
The gloomy old chamber was air'd for my birth,
And the evening pass'd gaily with music and mirth.
'Twas midnight! we parted; and I, nothing daunted,
Repair'd to the room so mysteriously haunted.
Here a fine blazing fire, with each comfort akin,
Warm'd my courage without, as good wine did within.
So I stept into bed, and, I speak without boast,
Felt no apprehension of little Miss Ghost;
For I must inform you, as gossips had talk'd,
'Twas a lady, whose sprite so appallingly walk'd.
Well; nothing appeared, and my eyes 'gan to close;
It struck three just as I was beginning to doze,
When I fancied I heard the door gently unclose.

1 started bolt up and conceive my affright,

I saw gliding in a tall female in white.

I own I felt queerish, and shivered, but hear

I shivered with cold. Zounds! it could not be fear.

At length, "my good uncle" observed, with a smile,
Faux-pas in a sleep-are faux-pas without guile;
And since she has taken the place of a wife,
Suppose, my dear nephew, you take her for life;
With her ten thousand pounds you may prudently wed,
And you must take care, boy, to keep her in bed.

I lik'd the proposal, to Emily turn'd,

Whose cheek with the pure blush of modesty burn'd;
And ask'd, as a sign of consent, for a kiss;
Her lips falter'd No, but her eyes implied Yes.
'Twas settled; fair Emily's mine, with her pelf,
And henceforth I'll keep the fair Ghost to myself:
The somnambulist shall not so favour another;
So vows, my dear Tom,


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The Drama.


"There are a multitude of people, who are truly and only spectators of the play, without any use of their understandings, and these carry it sometimes by the strength of their numbers. There are others who use their understandings too much;

who think it a sign of weakness and stupidity to let any thing

pass by them unattacked, and that the honour of their judg ments (as some brutals imagine of their courage) consists in quarrelling with every thing."-Cowley.

Addison's Cato was repeated on Monday last. This tragedy is much less esteemed on the stage than valued in the closet; for, though it may be justly pronounced a most finished standard for purity and elegance of diction, yet is it devoid of that general and diversified interest essential to the success of scenic representation. Of this, indeed, the celebrated author was perfectly aware: Pops, as we are told, having advised Addison "to print it without any theatrical exhibition, supposing that it would be more favourably read than heard:" counsel which Addison admitted the just force of, and would have com plied with, probably, but, as Johnson avers, for the importunity of his friends." "The emulation," adds the Doctor, of parties made it successful beyond expecta tion, and its success has introduced or confirmed amongst us the use of dialogue too declamatory, of unaffecting elegance, and chill philosophy."

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