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figure at the Coburg. Of their deserts and doings, how-
ever, both great and small, we must delay writing farther
until we can do them all justice.
Peregrine Somerset.

THE EDINBURGH DRAMA.

But in the twinkling of an eye, the Bell Inn evaporates, and, Mother Bunch only knows how or why, but we are all at once in the vicinity of the Bell Rock Lighthousea delicate transition, no doubt, from the Bell Inn to the Bell Rock. It is a stormy night, full of thunder and lightning, and particularly high waves, so Mr Edmunds walks in and sings, "The Bay of Biscay," and then Har THE man who does not love a Christmas Pantomime, Morayshire floods upon them all the time. lequin and Columbine dance a pas de deux, though it rains is fit for "treason, stratagem, and spoil.” "Let no such is as it should be; but, by Our Lady! down all at once The whole man be trusted." In the Christmas week we think of goes both the Bell Rock and the ocean itself, and all the nothing else. We dream of the pantomime; we break-thunder and lightning, into the solid earth, and our old fast, dine, and sup on the pantomime; we give up all our acquaintance the town and port of Leith, with its ships, ordinary pursuits, and do not care one farthing for the sailors, fish-women, and fish, some of them queer enough, state of Europe. "The pantomime's the thing by which starts up before us. At length Leith too goes the way of to catch the conscience of"-OLD CERBERUS ! It makes all flesh, and the best scene of all-a country fair, opens us young again! and only think what it is to be young! 'Tis to be unsuspicious, confiding, romantic, joyous! 'Tis his "pavilion of fancy," inviting the ladies and gentlemen upon us. That strolling player on the platform before to be full of rosy health, and never-failing spirits! 'Tis to walk up, with a je-ne-scai-quoi in his manner which to believe that the world is what it seems, and that all the Talma or John Kemble could never have copied, is a felmen and women are not "merely players." O! to be low particularly dear to our affections. He plays on the young again is to know nothing of criticism, and the sour fiddle too! But mark the uncertainty of all human harsh thoughts which criticism brings along with it. 'Tis things! Just in the midst of one of his most exquisite to go with papa and mamma, and three or four brothers flourishes, Harlequin waves his sword, and in a moment and sisters, and half a dozen cousins and second cousins, his pavilion of fancy is changed into a menagerie of wild all crammed into one coach by a process quite inexplicable; beasts! and the clown and the pantaloon, and the strolling 'tis to rattle along with them through streets, all brilliant tragedian himself, are under the paws of lions, byenas, with lamps and shop windows, till we stop at that palace leopards, orang-outangs, boa-constrictors, sea-horses and of young delight—the Theatre! Then, for five blessed polar bears, who break out of their cages, and swarm over hours, what looks of rapture! what peels of merriment! the stage, to the imminent danger of the whole audience, what thrillings of delicious emotions! "Time! Time! though they have as yet limited their ravages to seventeen Time!" how thou dost change all these things!-but, individuals in the orchestra. Leaving this too agitating thank Heaven! "Mother Bunch” is greater than thou; scene, and led by the silver moon, we come to a rural and when she comes to our aid, we defy thee, wrinkled cottage, where we ourselves could spend all our lives with cynic! See! the curtain goes up, and Awl the cobbler Columbine; but, presto! Mother Bunch slides down on refuses to give his daughter to Colin as he should do, and wishes the girl to marry that nondescript booby. Colin bower and pearly fountain, where, amidst a brilliant disa lunar rainbow, and transports us all at once to her fairy is dismissed in sore dejection; we'll follow him. Being play of fireworks, every body is made happy, and then, a woodcutter, he goes to the forest to cut wood; but, to alas! the curtain falls and shuts out Paradise from our put the finishing stroke to his misfortunes, he breaks his view. Nothing lasts for ever, and even a Christmas panaxe, and immediately determines to hang himself. He is just about to carry his intention into execution, and wished that it had no end, but went on through the whole tomime must come to an end, though we have often really it would have been a pity to have done so in so lovely a part of the country, for we never saw a more year, for ever and for ever! We can see it again to be romantic woodland scene,-when Mother Bunch comes sure, that's one comfort! To-morrow and to-morrow. to his assistance, and presents him with a golden axe, on condition that he won't tell whom he got it from. The golden axe is a golden key to old Awl's good graces, and he consents to give Colin his daughter; but the young lady is determined to know how he came by the axe, and he soon finds it impossible as every lover would have done to keep his secret in opposition to her entreaties. He blabs, and instantly Mother Bunch comes down like a flash of lightning, and the cobbler's household vanishes into thin air, and the nature of all his establishment is changed. Colin is Harlequin, the lady of his heart is Columbine, Awl is Pantaloon, and the opposition lover is Clown. Off they go, like velocipedes down an inclined plane, and it makes one almost giddy to follow them. Lo! they have all got to a barber's shop, and the Clown plays the barber, and of course the poor Dandy, who comes to have his hair dressed, suffers in the cause. What an essay might be written upon the dandies of pantomimes! They are a race by themselves, always looking pleasant, and carrying a jaunty air, but used in a manner that seems to set at defiance Mr Martin's bill against cruelty to animals. Pantomimic dandies are delicious creatures! But even the dandy in the present instance does not suffer so much as the pantaloon, for he gets his head chopped off, and the clown, with his usual complacency, puts it in his pocket, leaving pantaloon to run after him in search of it. The barber's shop disappears, and here is the exterior of the Bell Inn Tavern and Hotel. The clown and pantaloon's head sup together, and perform many more equally wonderful experiments.

Jones has played once this week. We were unable to next Saturday, partly in the hope of making it apparent be present, but we shall say something good about him to Mr Green, that the blue silk waistcoat he is continually wearing is of all other waistcoats the most odious and anti-classical. A bitter bad piece, called "The National Guard," represented in the too flattering bills as a has been bitter-badly played. But we have the Christ"comic opera," has been brought out, and on the whole mas Pantomime-we have Mother Bunch, and we are happy-yea, we are in good-humour with all the world. Old Cerberus.

LITERARY CHIT-CHAT AND VARIETIES.

THE First Number of The Edinburgh University Magazine, to be week. The Editors wish to make this Magazine a vehicle for the continued monthly during the session, is announced to appear next general talent of the University.

Dialogues on the Rule of Faith, between a member of the British Society for promoting the religious principles of the reformation and a Catholic Layman, to be inscribed to the Office Bearers of the Society, are in the press.

The first Number of The Edinburgh Law Journal will appear speedily. The attention of the Conductors of this work will be directed to two great objects,-the improvement of Scottish Jurisprudence, and the promotion of a thorough knowledge of its principles and practice among the members of the legal bodies. British Melodies, or Songs of the People, by H. S. Cornish, will

appear

this month.

Professor M'Culloch is preparing for publication a Theoretical and Practical Dictionary of Commerce and Commercial Navigation.

The Life and Death of Lord Edward Fitzgerald, by Thomas Moore, Esq. is forthcoming.

Messrs Oliver and Boyd are preparing a second edition of the first volume of The Edinburgh Cabinet Library.

The Incognito, or Sins and Peccadilloes, a Tale of Spain, by the author of the "Castilian," &c. is announced.

OUR STUDY TABLE.-Having again presented our readers on this the first day of the year with a Number containing nothing but original contributions in prose and verse, the new works destined for our reviewing department—a department of the greatest consequence, and which we rarely or never omit, except during the holydays-have been multiplying upon us.-First of all, there is the second volume of Moore's Life of Byron, as replete with interest as the first;-then there is Hood's Comic Annual, far the best of all the comic annuals in point of literary merit ;-then there is the History of Chivalry, by Mr James, a work we have not yet had time to read, but the reading of which we anticipate with pleasure;-then there is the Exiles of Palestine, by our friend Mr Carne, worthy of the author of "Letters from the East;"-then there is the Dictionary of the Gaelic Language, compiled by Drs Macleod and Dewar, and a most valuable addition to philology;-then there is Songs of Solitude, by William Bennet, the ingenious author of " Pictures of Scottish Scenes and Character," and the editor of that well-conducted newspaper, the Glasgow Free Press; and then there are many more which we have as yet scarcely opened, but the merits of all of which shall be brought to light in our next and succeeding numbers.

| penny pamphlet or two, are our chief productions: then, too, the Perth Magazine was appearing as regularly as our worthy landlady announces, that there is "ane o' thae byeuks wi' the picture o' the king's fule lying on the table," (alluding to the outward man of our well-beloved Christopher); lately, there have been several attempts to establish a literary periodical, and always without success,-the Amateur reached one number! and the Miscellany shared nearly the same fate. Still we are not without some redeeming points. Our Literary and Antiquarian Society is prospering, and corresponding with many similar institutions both at home and abroad; its next report is expected to be very satisfactory. Our School of Arts is fairly established, and surpasses the most sanguine expectations of its patrons, thanks to the able exertions of Dr Anderson. Both of our Newspapers are considered among the best provincial ones in Scotland. We have also our own share of debating societies, rhymestruck youths, and some few blue-stockings, though of the last many are sadly out at the heels. But what is the best of all, we have many sincere admirers of the Edinburgh Literary Journal.

Theatrical Gossip.-The King's Theatre opens on the 22d of January; the names already announced are-Pasta, Lalande, David, Lablache, De Begnis, Santini, and other old favourites. Mademoiselle Schauberlerkner, ("Phoebus! what a name!") from St Petersburg, and Mademoiselle Unghner, (another pretty name,) from Rome, are engaged. Those eminent composers, Auber and Meyerbeer, are expected to visit London in the spring.-A petition from Mr Arnold, signed by numbers of the nobility, has been presented to the King. It prays for an extension of his limited season in his new theatre. His Majesty has commissioned Lord Brougham to decide on the question of the patents and their privileges. The question is to be argued on its merits on the 10th of January. The Lord Chancellor and two common law judges to constitute the Court, and only one counsel to be heard on either side.-Raymond, late manager of the Leicester circuit, and said to be an excellent light comedian, is to be one of Madame

CHIT-CHAT FROM ELGIN.-One of our newspapers, the Elgin and Forres Journal, and Northern Advertiser, ceased to exist soon after the Wellington administration.-A general meeting of the Elgin Ladies' Society, for promoting industry among the most necessitous poor, was held in the new assembly rooms, North street, on Tuesday last. Although this benevolent society of" the daughters of charity" has existed only for little more than a twelvemonth, it has already been productive of much advantage to the poor of Elgin.-Vestris's company at the Olympic.- Watson, late chorus-master at CoThe suspension bridge over the river Spey, at Boat o' Brig, in the parish of Boharm; and our iron bridge over the Lossie, at Bishopmill, are now opened to the public, and are both reckoned very handsome structures of their respective kinds.-The library connected with the Academy of Elgin, which was lately established for the benefit of the scholars attending that institution, is increasing. Such an appendage to our excellent seminary deserves every encouragement, and cannot fail to prove highly advantageous to the youthful students, for whose improvement it was instituted.-Very handsome contributions have been given by our respectable neighbours of the town of Forres, to aid in the erection of the Elgin Pauper Lunatic Asylum, which is to be placed near Gray's Hospital, within the grounds attached to that edifice.-It is generally expected that, by the new-year, the streets of the Morayshire metropolis will be lighted with gas; this will add another to the many improvements which the good town of Elgin has experienced of late years.

vent Garden theatre, opened, a short time ago, the Fishamble Street theatre, in Dublin, in opposition to the theatre-royal; but it closed after a season of four nights! It is thought that on the Marquis of Anglesea's arrival, his excellency, from his love of the drama, will give a fillip to theatricals.—Miss George, about three years since the prima donna of the Haymarket theatre, has returned from a very successful American tour.-A strolling player has become the purchaser of the late King's coronation robe and star, which were knocked down at L.7, 5s. The rose-colour satin may yet be sported by a barn-door Richard-Sic transit gloria mundi.-The Christmas Pantomimes are at present the chief novelties in the metropolitan theatres. -The following letter has been received, it is said, by Miss Paton, at Brighton :-" MA'AM-Unless the gemman wot you're always a walking with, don't shave off his Mustashers before next Sunday, we'll set fire to your Wood. SWING."-Jones's reappearance, the Pantomime, and Miss Jarman's return on Monday, are the matters of most moment in the theatrical world here.

CHIT-CHAT FROM BERWICK.-On Wednesday, the 15th instant, agreeably to a requisition, signed by 114 highly respectable individuals, a meeting was held in the King's Arms Assembly Rooms, to take into consideration the propriety of petitioning Parliament on the subject of Reform; the Right Worshipful J. B. Orde, Esq. SAT. Mayor, in the chair. It was unanimously resolved to petition both Houses of Parliament on that subject.-We have sent four congregational petitions to the Commons, praying for the total abolition of

Negro Slavery. We have lately got an accession to the religious

establishments of our good town, in the shape of a New Jerusalem Temple, and a Primitive Methodist Chapel, or Ranter's MeetingHouse. Our Barracks and our Theatre are shut up; all the old pensioners have been sworn in as special constables, to act under the direction of the magistrates in case of riot.-Our Jail is completely crammed with smugglers, who have been apprehended by the excise while in the act of transporting a little aquavitæ over the Border.!

CHIT-CHAT FROM GLASGOW.-Miss Jarman drew good houses and gained golden opinions here. She is succeeded by a Master David Bell of Dundee-not Mr David Bell of Glasgow-who, it seems, is to astonish'us in "The Weathercock."-A tavern has been opened here lately, quite equal to your Rainbow or Royal Saloon, and has been crammed every night.-A Philharmonic Society is about to be established, under the auspices of Bailie M'Lellan and other able and influential amateurs, and our music-sellers are all on the alert since young Mr Fadyen's success in publishing. I see that Horne, who certainly ranks next to Bishop as a composer, has set the "Right | Loyal Song" that appeared in your pages to spirited music, and has published it, and "The Standard of England," by the same author, in London.-Weekes's admirable collection of Irish songs, under the title of "The Shamrock," is on the eve of publication.-Stockhausen is to be with us this winter.

MON.
TUES.
WED.

WEEKLY LIST OF PERFORMANCES.
DECEMBER 25-31.

Theatre closed.

Poor Gentleman, & Mother Bunch.
National Guard, & Do.

THURS. The National Guard, & Do.

The Clandestine Marriage, & Mother Bunch.

FRI.

Cure for the Heart-Ache, & Do.

TO OUR READERS.

WE this day present our readers with an Index and Title Page to the Fourth Volume of the LITERARY JOURNAL. They who have not hitherto been regular subscribers, but may think of becoming so, will no doubt see the propriety of commencing with a new Volume and a new Year. We have already been nobly supported, but we are making new proselytes every day.

TO OUR CORRESPONDENTS.

SEVERAL interesting articles are still unavoidably postponed, among which is the paper read by Mr Laing to the Antiquarian Society, and the communication relative to the new Gazetteer of Scotland.

We request the Editors of various newspapers in different parts of the country to accept our thanks for the handsome manner in which they have spoken of our CHRISTMAS NUMBER, the sale of which has been prodigious.

"Christmas Day in Rome" reached us too late for our last Number, and it is now unnecessary to publish it.-The tale entitled "The Deserter" will not suit us.-Poetical contributions from the following persons lie over for probable insertion in our next SLIPPERS, which will appear in a week or two-John Nevay of Forfar, "N. C." of Glasgow, Jed. Cleishbotham of Gandercleuch, "T." of Stonehaven, and "T. E." We do not remember having received any commu

CHIT-CHAT FROM PERTH.-"There is a tide in the affairs of men," says the poet; so is there, say we, in the affairs of cities; and we fear this tide is far in the ebb here in literary matters. About half a century ago, the Morison press was coping with the Edinburgh ones in producing many standard works, of which the Encyclopædia Perthensis will long remain a lasting proof; now, the Reports of Missionary and Bible Societies, the County Register, and perhaps a six-nication signed "Pictor."

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LITERARY CRITICISM.

Letters and Journals of Lord Byron, with Notices of his
Life. By Thomas Moore. Vol. II. London. John
Murray. 1831. 4to. Pp. 823.

THE interest excited by this work, at the present moment, makes every body much more anxious to know what it contains, than what is said of it. Were a reviewer to stand prating at the threshold, as is the wont of such persons, his tittle-tattle would be considered little short of an impertinence, seeing that his readers are thinking all the time not of him, but of Lord Byron. To escape this odium, we propose presenting to-day a selection of the most interesting extracts we can find,-reserving for next week our own opinions, which we shall then deliver with the gravity due to the "wise saws and modern instances," to which we are in the habit of giving birth.

The second volume of this noble piece of biography commences with Byron's final departure for the continent, carries us through all the events of his continental life, and finally closes the scene with the premature extinction of all his hopes and aspirations at Missolonghi. We shall commence our quotations with Moore's account of a visit he paid to Lord Byron in Italy, in which there is much interesting matter:

MOORE'S VISIT TO BYRON IN ITALY.

"Having parted, at Milan, with Lord John Russell, whom I had accompanied from England, and whom I was to rejoin, after a short visit to Rome, at Genoa, I made purchase of a small and (as it soon proved) crazy travelling carriage, and proceeded alone on my way to Venice. My time being limited, I stopped no longer at the intervening places than was sufficient to hurry over their respective wonders, and, leaving Padua at noon, on the 8th of October, I found myself, about two o'clock, at the door of my friend's villa, at La Mira. He was but just up, and in his bath; but the servant having announced my arrival, he returned a message, that, if I would wait till he was dressed, he would accompany me to Venice. The interval I employed in conversing with my old acquaintance, Fletcher, and in viewing, under his guidance, some of the apartments of the villa.

"It was not long before Lord Byron himself made his appearance; and the delight I felt in meeting him once more, after a separation of so many years, was not a little heightened, by observing that his pleasure was to the full as great, while it was rendered doubly touching by the evident rarity of such meetings to him of late, and the frank outbreak of cordiality and gaiety with which he gave way to his feelings. It would be impossible, indeed, to convey to those who have not, at some time or other, felt the charm of his manner, any idea of what it could be when under the influence of such pleasurable excitement, as it was most flatteringly evident he experienced at this moment.

"I was a good deal struck, however, by the alteration that had taken place in his personal appearance. He had grown fatter, both in person and face, and the latter had most suffered by the change-having lost, by the enlargement of the features, some of that refined and spiritualized look, that had, in other times, distinguished it. The addition of whiskers, too, which he had not long before been induced to adopt, from hearing that some one had said he had a faccia di musico,' as well as the length to which his hair grew down on his neck, and the rather foreign air of

Price 6d.

his coat and cap-all combined to produce that dissimilarity to his former self I had observed in him. He was still, however, eminently handsome; and, in exchange for whatever his features may have lost of their high, romantic character, they had become more fitted for the expression of that arch, waggish wisdom, that Epicurean play of humour, which he had shown to be equally inherent in his various and prodigally-gifted nature; while, by the somewhat increased roundness of the contours, the resemblance of his finely-formed mouth and chin to those of the Belvedere Apollo, had become still more striking.

"His breakfast, which I found he rarely took before patched his habit being to eat it standing, and the meal three or four o'clock in the afternoon, was speedily disin general consisting of one or two raw eggs, a cup of tea, without either milk or sugar, and a bit of dry biscuit. Before we took our departure, he presented me to the Countess Guiccioli, who was at this time, as my readers already know, living under the same roof with him at La Mira; and who, with a style of beauty singular in an Italian, as upon my mind, during this our first short interview, of inbeing fair-complexioned and delicate, left an impression telligence and amiableness, such as all that I have since known or heard of her has but served to confirm."

We cannot better follow up this extract than with the following curious occurrence, which Byron describes in his own powerful and original way :

AN ADVENTURE AT VENICE.

"Venice is in the estro of her carnival, and I have been up these last two nights at the ridotto and the opera, and all that kind of thing. Now for an adventure. A few days ago, a gondolier brought me a billet without a subscription, intimating a wish on the part of the writer to meet me either in gondola, or at the island of San Lazaro, or at a third rendezvous, indicated in the note. "I know the country's disposition well,'-in Venice they do let heaven see those tricks they dare not show,' &c. &c.; so, for all response, I said that neither of the three places suited me; but that I would either be at home at ten at night alone, or be at the ridotto at midnight, where the writer might meet me masked. At ten o'clock I was at home and alone, (Marianna was gone with her husband to a conversazione, ) when the door of my apartment opened, and in walked a well-looking and (for an Italian) bionda girl of about nineteen, who informed me that she was married to the brother of my amorosa, and wished to have some conversation with me. I made a decent reply, and we had some talk in Italian and Romaic, (her mother being a Greek of Corfu,) when, lo! in a very few minutes in marches, to my very great astonishment, Marianna S * *, in propria persona, and, after making a most polite curtsy to her sister-in-law and to me, without a single word seizes her said sister-inlaw by the hair, and bestows upon her some sixteen slaps, which would have made your ear ach only to hear their echo. I need not describe the screaming which ensued. The luckless visitor took flight. seized Marianna, who, after several vain efforts to get away in pursuit of the enemy, fairly went into fits in my arms; and, in spite of reasoning, eau de Cologne, vinegar, half a pint of water, and God knows what other waters beside, continued so till past midnight.

"After damning my servants for letting people in without apprising me, I found that Marianna in the morning had seen her sister-in-law's gondolier on the stairs; and, suspecting that his apparition boded her no good, had either returned of her own accord, or been followed by her maids or some other spy of her people, to the conversazione, from whence she returned to perpetrate this piece of pugilism.

I had seen fits before, and also some small scenery of the same genus in and out of our island; but this was not all. After about an hour, in comes-who? why, Signor S**, her lord and husband, and finds me with his wife fainting upon a sofa, and all the apparatus of confusion, dishevelled hair, hats, handkerchiefs, salts, smelling bottles-and the lady as pale as ashes, without sense or motion. His first question was, 'What is all this?' The lady could not reply-so I did. I told him the explanation was the easiest thing in the world; but, in the meantime, it would be as well to recover his wife-at least, her senses. This came about in due time of suspiration and respiration.

"You need not be alarmed-jealousy is not the order of the day in Venice, and daggers are out of fashion, while duels, on love matters, are unknown-at least with the husbands. But, for all this, it was an awkward affair; and though he must have known that I made love to Marianna, yet I believe he was not, till that evening, aware of the extent to which it had gone. It is very well known that almost all the married women have a lover; but it is usual to keep up the forms, as in other nations. I did not, therefore, know what the devil to say. I could not out with the truth, out of regard to her, and I did not choose to lie for my sake:-besides, the thing told itself. I thought the best way would be to let her explain it as she chose (a woman being never at a loss-the devil always sticks by them) only determining to protect and carry her off, in case of any ferocity on the part of the Signor. I saw that he was quite calm. She went to bed, and next day-how they settled it, I know not, but settle it they did. Wellthen I had to explain to Marianna about this never-to-besufficiently confounded sister-in-law: which I did by swearing innocence, eternal constancy, &c. &c."

close to them in public as in private, whenever they can. In short, they transfer marriage to adultery, and strike the not out of that commandment. The reason is, that they marry for their parents, and love for themselves. They exact fidelity from a lover as a debt of honour, while they pay the husband as a tradesman, that is, not at all. You hear a person's character, male or female, canvassed not as depending on their conduct to their husbands or wives, but to their mistress or lover. If I wrote a quarto, I don't know that I could do more than amplify what I have here noted. It is to be observed, that while they do all this, the greatest outward respect is to be paid to the husband, not only by the ladies, but by their Serventiparticularly if the husband serves no one himself (which is not often the case, however); so that you would often suppose them relations-the Servente making the figure of one adopted into the family. Sometimes the ladies run a little restive and elope, or divide, or make a scene; but this is at starting, generally when they know no better, or when they fall in love with a foreigner, or some such anomalyand is always reckoned unnecessary and extravagant.”

After their final separation, Byron had rarely any correspondence, either direct or indirect, with his wife. One letter, however, is given, dated "Pisa, Nov. 17th, 1821," addressed by the exiled husband to his wife, upon an interesting and touching occasion. It is written not altogether coldly, but with the dignity and determination of a man who was resolutely fixed in the line of conduct

to which he had been driven. It is not the letter of one

it.

who had ever attempted conduct so gross, that his surviving spouse, to guard herself from the charge of callousIt appears that Byron was requested to write a workness, can only hint at it darkly, as if ashamed to divulge on Italy, but this he declined doing, on good grounds. In the following hasty remarks, however, on this subject, there is more substantial thinking than is to be found in one half of the flimsy books of modern tourists and travellers :

REMARKS ON ITALY AND THE ITALIANS.

The letter is the manly and straight-forward composition of one who felt he had been harshly used, although, at the same time, not ignorant of the imperfections of his own temper. It is as follows:

LETTER FROM THE CONTINENT TO LADY BYRON.

"Pisa, November 17th, 1821. "I have to acknowledge the receipt of Ada's hair,' which is very soft and pretty, and nearly as dark already as mine was at twelve years old, if I may judge from what I recollect of some in Augusta's possession, taken at that age. But it don't curl-perhaps from its being let grow.

"I also thank you for the inscription of the date and name, and I will tell you why; I believe that they are the only two or three words of your handwriting in my possession. For your letters I returned, and except the two words, or rather the one word, Household,' written twice in an old account-book, I have no other. I burnt your last note, for two reasons:-1stly, It was written in a style not very agreeable; and, 2dly, I wished to take your word without documents, which are the worldly resources of sus

"You ask me for a volume of manners, &c., on Italy. Perhaps I am in the case to know more of them than most Englishmen, because I have lived among the natives, and in parts of the country where Englishmen never resided before (I speak of Romagna and this place particularly); but there are many reasons why I do not choose to treat in print on such a subject. I have lived in their houses and in the heart of their families, sometimes merely as amico di casa,' and sometimes as amico di cuore,' of the Dama, and in neither case do I feel myself authorized in making a book of them. Their moral is not your moral; their life is not your life; you would not understand it: it is not English, nor French, nor German, which you would all understand. The conventual education, the cavalier servitude, the habits of thought and living, are so entirely dif-picious people. ferent, and the difference becomes so much more striking the more you live intimately with them, that I know not how to make you comprehend a people who are at once temperate and profligate, serious in their characters and buffoons in their amusements, capable of impressions and passions which are at once sudden and durable, (what you find in no other nation,) and who actually have no society, (what we would call so,) as you may see by their comedies; they have no real comedy, not even in Goldini, and that is because they have no society to draw it from.

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"Their conversazioni are not society at all. They go to the theatre to talk, and into company to hold their tongues. The women sit in a circle, and the men gather into groups, or they play at dreary faro, or lotto reale,' for small sums. Their academie are concerts like our own, with better music and more form. Their best things are the carnival balls and masquerades, when every body runs mad for six weeks. After their dinners and suppers they make extempore verses and buffoon one another; but it is in a humour which you would not enter into, ye of the north.

"In their houses it is better. I should know something of the matter, having had a pretty general experience among their women, from the fisherman's wife up to the Nobil Dama whom I serve. Their system has its rules, and its fitnesses, and its decorums, so as to be reduced to a kind of discipline or game at hearts, which admits few deviations, unless you wish to lose it. They are extremely tenacious, and jealous as furies, not permitting their lovers even to marry if they can help it, and keeping them always

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"I suppose that this note will reach you somewhere about Ada's birthday-the 10th of December, I believe. She will then be six, so that in about twelve more I shall have some chance of meeting her-perhaps sooner, if I am obliged to go to England by business or otherwise. Recollect, however, one thing, either in distance or nearnessevery day which keeps us asunder should, after so long a period, rather soften our mutual feelings, which must always have one rallying-point as long as our child exists, which, I presume, we both hope will be long after either of her parents.

"The time which has elapsed since the separation, has been considerably more than the whole brief period of our union, and the not much longer one of our prior acquaintance. We both made a bitter mistake; but now it is over, and irrevocably so. For, at thirty-three on my part, and a few years less on yours, though it is no very extended period of life, still it is one when the habits and thoughts are generally so formed, as to admit of no modification; and as we could not agree when younger, we should with difficulty do so now.

"I say all this, because I own to you, that, notwithstanding every thing, I considered our reunion as not impossible for more than a year after the separation—but then I gave up the hope entirely and for ever. But this very impossibility of reunion seems to me at least a reason why, on all the few points of discussion which can arise between us, we should preserve the courtesies of life, and as much of its kindness, as people who are never to meet may pre

serve perhaps more easily than nearer connexions. For my own part, I am violent, but not malignant; for only fresh provocations can awaken my resentments. To you, who are colder and more concentrated, I would just hint, that you may sometimes mistake the depth of a cold anger for dignity, and a worse feeling for duty. I assure you that I bear you now (whatever I may have done) no resentment whatever. Remember, that if you have injured me in aught, this forgiveness is something; and that, if I have injured you, it is something more still, if it be true, as the moralists say, that the most offending are the least forgiving.

"Whether the offence has been solely on my side, or reciprocal, or on yours chiefly, I have ceased to reflect upon any but two things-viz. that you are the mother of my child, and that we shall never meet again. think, if you also consider the two corresponding points with reference to myself, it will be better for all three. Yours ever, "NOEL BYRON."

Some readers will perhaps be disappointed that Moore has scarcely alluded at all to the charges which Lady Byron and her friends have recently advanced against the deceased poet. He has given Lady Byron's "Letter," or "Remarks,” at the end of the volume, without any comment; and he carefully abstains from entering the lists with Thomas Campbell. This may be prudent in so far as he himself is concerned, but we doubt whether it is generous towards his departed friend. This duty, we think, became more imperative on the biographer, when we see him giving a place in his work to such a passage as the following:

BYRON'S ACCOUNT OF THE CAUSES WHICH LED TO HIS

SEPARATION FROM HIS WIFE.

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BYRON'S RULES OF LITERARY CONDUCT.
TO MR MURRAY.

"Ravenna, 24th Sept. 1821.
"I have been thinking over our late correspondence, and
wish to propose to you the following articles for our future:
health, wealth, and welfare of all friends; but of me (quoad
"Istly. That you shall write to me of yourself, of the
me) little or nothing.

"2dly. That you shall send me soda-powders, toothpowder, tooth-brushes, or any such anti-odontalgic or chemical articles, as heretofore, ad libitum,' upon being reimbursed for the same.

"3dly. That you shall not send me any modern, or (as they are called) new publications, in English, whatsoever, save and excepting any writing, prose or verse, of (or reaCampbell, Rogers, Gifford, Joanna Baillie, Irving (the sonably presumed to be of) Walter Scott, Crabbe, Moore, American,) Hogg, Wilson (Isle of Palms man,) or any especial single work of fancy which is thought to be of considerable merit; Voyages and Travels, provided that they are neither in Greece, Spain, Asia Minor, Albania, nor Italy, will be welcome. Having travelled the countries mentioned, I know that what is said of them can convey nothing farther which I desire to know about them.-No other English works whatsoever.

"4thly. That you send me no periodical works whatsoever-no Edinburgh, Quarterly, Monthly, nor any review, magazine, or newspaper, English or foreign, of any description.

"5thly. That you send me no opinions whatsoever, either good, bad, or indifferent, of yourself, or your friends, or others, concerning any work, or works, of mine, past, present, or to come.

"6thly. That all negotiations in matters of business between you and me pass through the medium of the Hon. Douglas Kinnaird, my friend and trustee, or Mr Hobhouse, as alter ego,' and tantamount to myself during my absence-or presence.

"Some of these propositions may at first seem strange, but they are well founded. The quantity of trash I have received as books is incalculable, and neither amused nor instructed. Reviews and magazines are at the best but ephemeral and superficial reading-who thinks of the grand article of last year in any given Review ? In the next place, if they regard myself, they tend to increase egotism. If favourable, I do not deny that the praise elates, and if unfavourable, that the abuse irritates. The latter may conduct me to inflict a species of satire, which would neither do good to you nor to your friends: they may smile now, and so may you; but if I took you all in hand, it would not be difficult to cut you up like gourds. I did as much by as powerful people at nineteen years old, and I know little as yet in three-andthirty, which should prevent me from making all your ribs gridirons for your hearts, if such were my propensity; but it is not; therefore let me hear none of your provocations. If any thing occurs so very gross as to require my notice, shall hear of it from my legal friends. For the rest, I merely request to be left in ignorance.

"The chief subject of our conversation, when alone, was his marriage, and the load of obloquy which it had brought upon him. He was most anxious to know the worst that had been alleged of his conduct; and as this was our first opportunity of speaking together on the subject, I did not hesitate to put his candour most searchingly to the proof, not only by enumerating the various charges I had heard brought against him by others, but by specifying such portions of these charges as I had been inclined to think not incredible myself. To all this he listened with patience, and answered with the most unhesitating frankness, laughing to scorn the tales of unmanly outrage related of him, but at the same time acknowledging that there had been in his conduct but too much to blame and regret, and stating one or two occasions, during his domestic life, when he had been irritated into letting the breath of bitter words' escape him words, rather those of the unquiet spirit that possessed him than his own, and which he now evidently remembered with a degree of remorse and pain, which might well have entitled them to be forgotten by others. It was at the same time manifest, that, whatever admissions he might be inclined to make respecting his own delinquencies, the inordinate measure of the punishment dealt out to him had sunk deeply into his mind; and with the usual effect of such injustice, drove him also to be unjust himself-so much so, indeed, as to impute to the quarter to which he now traced all his ill fate, a feeling of fixed hostility to himself, which would not rest, he thought, even at his grave, but continue to persecute his memory, as it was now embittering his life. So strong was this impression upon him, that, during one of our few intervals of seriousness, he conjured me, by our friendship, if, as he both felt and hoped, I "The same applies to opinions, good, bad, indifferent, of should survive him, not to let unmerited censure settle upon persons in conversation or correspondence. These do not his name, but, while I surrendered him up to condemnation interrupt, but they soil, the current of my mind. I am senwhere he deserved it, to vindicate him where aspersed. sitive enough, but not till I am troubled; and here I am How groundless and wrongful were these apprehensions, beyond the touch of the short arms of literary England, the early death which he so often predicted and sighed for except the few feelers of the polypus that crawl over the has enabled us, unfortunately, but too soon to testify. So channels in the way of extract. far from having to defend him against any such assailants, an unworthy voice or two, from persons more injurious as friends than as enemies, is all that I find raised in hostility to his name; while by few, I am inclined to think, would a generous amnesty over his grave be more readily and cordially concurred in than by her, among whose numerous virtues a forgiving charity towards himself was the only one to which she had not yet taught him to render justice." The last two sentences of the above extract are to us rather unintelligible. If they mean any thing, they imply a sneer at Campbell, and a compliment to Lady Byron,

"All these precautions in England would be useless; the libeller or the flatterer would there reach me in spite of all; but in Italy we know little of literary England, and think less, except what reaches us through some garbled and brief extract in some miserable gazette. For two years (excepting two or three articles cut out and sent to you by the post) I never read a newspaper which was not forced upon me by some accident; and know, upon the whole, as little of England as you do of Italy, and God knows that is little enough, with all your travels, &c. &c. &c. The English travellers know Italy as you know Guernsey; how much is that?

"If any thing occurs so violently gross or personal as

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