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correct.

BREAKING THE LINE.

The American Mechanic's Magazine and Journal of

sulted the original authorities, and availed himself of the

His style is in general Public Internal Improvement. 8vo. No. X, for November criticism of modern historians. 1830. Boston : S. N. Dickenson. Glasgow : John

We can recommend this work with a safe

conscience. It has already reached a second, and we hope Reid. The American Annals of Education and Instruction. to see it reach a third, edition.

8vo. No. II. September 1830. Boston : Carter and

Hender. Glasgow : John Reid. The American Monthly Magazine. No. IX. Decem- The History of the Reformation and Church in Scotland, ber 1830. Boston: Pierce and Parker. Glasgow :

till the General Assembly of Glasgow. By T. Stephen. John Reid.

12mo. Pp. 259. Edinburgh. John Boyd. 1831. The first of these scarcely falls under our notice, yet of day, we can scarcely, with all our liberality, conceive

An ingenious piece of special pleading. At this time deserves the attention of every one the least interested in mechanical improvement; the present number is in a

a mind so constituted as seriously to entertain the views

propounded in this work. great measure filled with communications and tables concerning rail-roads, canals, &c., from which may be gleaned much important information regarding the success of

MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. rail-roads on the other side of the Atlantic.

We scarcely imagined that the Americans were making such extensive exertions in the cause of education, until

MILITARY MEMORANDA. we read this number of the American annals of education.

By an Amateur. The attention which the subject seems to meet with both from the legislature and the country at large, will not fail of producing most important results in the rising ge- Some time ago a mighty fuss and hubbub was made on neration. The work before us is entirely filled with the subject of breaking the line, as it is called; and a great essays, papers, and letters, on education. The second gun of the press, charged to the very muzzle, with all article is a review of the system of Frederick Thiersch, as manner of quibbling and sophistry, was let off in defence sanctioned by the King of Bavaria, and gives a tolerable of the claims of the late Mr Clerk, of Eldin, as the good analysis of both the work and the system. The third alleged discoverer of this celebrated maneuvre. We have article is on the philosophy of language, in which we have no intention to revive the discussion as to the pretensions language traced not only to its first roots, but even to the of Mr Clerk, and the probability or improbability of his cause of these roots, in a manner that could be understood having communicated, or caused to be communicated, to by a child of ten years of age. The fourth article is a Lord Rodney the idea of breaking the line, and thus review of Hall's Lectures on Schoolkeeping, which demon- cutting off a portion of the enemy's force; firstly, because strates very clearly, how absurd it is that, when an ap- the principle of this operation was familiarly known prenticeship is required for all other trades and profes- long before either Mr Clerk or his pretensions were heard sions, that none whatever is required for a schoolmaster. of; secondly, because it has not been unfolded with scienIn America this idea is exploded, and we are told of one tific precision, and with the necessary limitations, in that school (for teachers) that manufactures fifty dominies gentleman's treatise on naval tactics; thirdly, because per annum. The article is very well written, and we there never has been a decisive battle fought, either on wish to see it, as well as the lectures of Hall, in the land or on water, where the general principle on which hands of every Scottish schoolmaster. In the seventh this manæuvre is founded, was not more or less reduced article, we have an interesting account of the progress of to practice. To satisfy ourselves that the principle was deaf and dumb institutions in that country, a place where, familiarly known, we have only to read the annals of until lately, the idea of teaching “ deaf mutes" was reck- war, and, not to go very far back, to turn, in a particular oned almost as Quixotical as sailing in a balloon. The manner, to the history of the campaigns of Frederick. The tenth article, on the progress of female education, is wor-whole secret of this great monarch's success, consisted in thy the notice of all who are opposed to the practice of operating, with the greatest mass of his force, a combined giving females an extensive and varied education ; in fact, effort on the decisive point. This is the fundamental we cannot do better than quote the words of the Western principle, by the application of which all military operaReview. “ If this world is ever to become a happier and tions are good, and without which they are vicious ;—this is better place, woman, well educated, disciplined, and prin- the principle, by the application of which Frederick gained cipled, sensible of her influence, and wise and benevolent the decisive victories of Leuthen and Rosbach, and Daun to exert it aright, must be the original mover in the great defeated the Prussian monarch himself at Hohenkirch; work."

-this is the principle, by the application of wbich, at a Regarding the third of these Transatlantic magazines, later period, Bonaparte destroyed three successive armies of we think the style exceedingly flippant and vague ; there Austrians, with a force numerically inferior to any one of is not a good paper in it, if we except the review of Galt's the three;—this is the principle, by the application of which, Life of Byron. The first article in the number is “ The in a greater or less degree, all decisive victories have been Wife's Appeal,” and we will give it entire the first time we gained, in ancient as well as modern times ;-and this is have room for it, as being the best piece of fugitive Ame- the principle which, applied to the tactical combinations rican poetry that we have lately seen.

of feets, has rendered naval victories in recent times so much more decisive than they ever were at any former

period. It is, in fact, of universal application. Jomini, Historical Memoirs of John Knor ; containing a Sketch speaking of the battle off Cape St Vincent, says, “ Les

of Scottish History from the Earliest Times to the Period Anglais remportèrent cette victoire, comme celle d'Ouesof his Death ; with an Account of the Reformation in sant, pour avoir percé la ligne ennemie; car, nous le Scotland. Second Edition. Leith. James Burnet. répétons, le premier talent d'un général est de paralyser, 1831.

une partie des forces de son adversaire, pour tomber, avec

toutes les siennes, sur le point qui lui offre de plus grandes This is an excellent little book, of modest pretensions. chances de succès. Jervis triompha par l'application du It professes no more than to make the history of our principe qui guida Bonaparte à Montenotte et à Castiggreat Reformer more patent than could be hoped for if lione ; sur mer comme sur terre, les memes resultats sont proit were confined to publications so expensive as that of duits par les memes causes. (Hist. Critiq. et Milit, des Dr M'Crie. The author has thought for himself, con- Guerres de la Rérol. tom. x. p. 198.)

maneuvre.

Clerk, however, even when, in a later edition of his work, having pointed out a new application of an old and wellhe comes to discuss the manœuvre of breaking the line, does known principle. We are free to confess, however, that not perceive the universality of the principle on which it we have as yet met with no evidence to induce us to depends, nor state the conditions necessary to ensure its award to our countryman even this secondary bonour. success. The manœuvre of breaking the line is, per se, of no | On the contrary, our opinion is, that the revolution in avail whatever : it is, in fact, just as broad as it is long : naval tactics, which proved the forerunner of so many for if the headmost ships of the line, part of which is in- triumphs, was in a great measure, if not altogether, attritersected, are immediately wore and tacked, the ships butable to a fortunate accident an opportune shift in the which have pierced the line, may be doubled upon in their wind, and a tempting opening in the enemy's line. If turn, and overpowered by the repetition of their own Rodney had left England impressed with the importance

In judging of the expediency of having re- of this manæuvre, would he not have tried it in the precourse to this manœuvre, the first question to be settled, vious battles off Martinico and St Lucia, on both of is a question of time alone. Before the headmost ships of which occasions he had the advantage, as it was then the enemy's line can wear and execute the inverse ma- considered, of the weathergage? And, if he had undernouvre, will there be sufficient time to disable and subdue stood it, even when he did attempt it late in the action the ships which have been cut off ? And this can only of the 12th April, 1782, would he have contented himbe solved by the assailant having his fleet so disposed as self with merely passing through the French line, and to enable him to fall upon a portion of the adverse line engaging their rearmost ships to leeward? But be this with the whole, or at all events the greater part, of his as it may, Rodney's practical exemplification of some of force; in other words, to operate, with the greatest pos. the advantages of the manæuvre directed the attention of sible amount of force, a combined effort on a decisive point. naval men to the subject, when all the theoretical speculaThe conditions essential to success in every case, are time, tions of philosophers would have been disregarded ; and it and a superior force capable of being immediately directed was reserved for his illustrious successors pot merely to reap against the point of attack. To neglect these conditions, the full benefit of the discovery which he had opened up, is to expose one's self to almost certain destruction; while, but likewise to show within what limits, and upon what on the other hand, when duly calculated and observed, the conditions, it could safely be executed. These, we repeat, result can scarcely fail to prove decisive. It has been said, are time, and a disposable superior force ready to act that there is nothing invariable in the art of combats. against a given portion of the enemy's line. Villeneuve's But this is a great mistake. Circumstances change, and skilful disposition at Trafalgar shows, however, that even the modes of application vary along with them; but the these conditions may, in certain circumstances, be in a principle is immutable; and no great result can ever be great measure neutralized ; and that superior discipline, obtained where it is departed from. Compare the battles courage, and pertinacity, are, after all, among the surest which have proved decisive, and influenced or determined guarantees of victory. the fates of nations and empires, with those bootless butcheries which have produced no other result but carnage and bloodshed, and it will be found that, in the one case, the principle was more or less acted upon, and in

THE FLOWER-GATHERER. the other totally neglected. In the early campaigns of the French Revolutionary war, for instance, the most sangui

No. II. pary combats were fought, and the contest was carried on with the utmost acharnement and ferocity ; but no decided

RESUMING our delightful avocation, we feel inclined to

loiter a little longer in the gardens of the sunny south, advantage was gained on either side, because the true

There is a warmth of passion in the natives of these principles of military tactics were not then understood. Instead of concentrating their masses for a great effort on

regions—less enduring perhaps than what is felt by us a given point nearest to the enemy's line of communica- Northmen—but so intense while it lasts as almost to be

stow a moral chai cter upon the mere promptings of tion with the base of his operations, generals then divided

sense. and dispersed their forces into cordons, penetrable at every mastery is to pass away like a summer's cloud.

We cannot fancy that a thing of such sovereign point, or into detached portions, equally incapable of giving involuntarily attribute to it " strength and length of

We or receiving timely support; and hence battles at this period were nothing more than a series of affairs of posts, in which days.”. Alas! the same glowing temperament which success generally alternated from side to side-one part gave it birth destroys it next moment, by yielding to

a new innpulse. It is only in the passionate outpourings of an army perhaps pursuing while the other was retreating,—and of course were productive of no definite or deci

of the poet that these visitings find the eternity which sive result. But when Bonaparte appeared upon the scene, breathes the very fever-fit of love, and communicates its.

seems their due. Here is at least one strain which and at once modelled his operations on the true principles

own heat to the cool atmosphere : both of strategies and tactics, war assumed a totally different character, and victory seemed to attend upon bis standards. O, balmy air ! Thou murw.urer, In like manner, while the old system of fighting at sea Flitting, sighing everywhere ! continued to be followed, and fleets met and passed on Through those elms with sweet accord, opposite tacks, battles had no result, and victory was little Gently sound to mine idol adored. else than a name. But when the principle of operating a combined effort, with a superior force, upon a decisive Go, balmy air, and gently blow, point, was once recognised and acted upon, then com- And on her to-night bestow, menced the epoch of our naval glory, and then naval

Who to sleep will soothe my woe, battles led to important results.

Thy divine repose now. The principle was not new in military tactics ; for both Marlborough and Frederick were familiar with it, and O seek that I her favour share; obtained their most glorious successes by its practical ap- Since thou Aittest everywhere, plication. But it was new in its application to naval To her window go, and there tactics at the period of the change of system to which

Let thy pinions, close now. we have already referred; and if Clerk had really any share in bringing about this change, he would be entitled Weary wind, who wand erest to the distinction of having deserved well of his country; Through the leaves and mine unrest, for, assuredly, next to the merit of original discovery, Joy long past and love vunblest, which was here wholly out of the question, is that of

Mournest ths ough yon willow

Cease thy sorrow! cease, oh, cease!

We knelt imploring those who did us spuru ; Lest thy song my sighs increase ;

Who o'er their captives scoffing said—“ Arise,
Whisper nought but calm and peaco

Sing unto us a song of your Judea."
To her lowly pillow.

Land of my soul, when I forget thy cries,

Oblivioni detur dertra mea !
Gentle, wanton, frolic air,

Our readers will think by this time that we are me-
Flitting, sighing everywhere,

lancholy to-day-something in Master Slender's vein. Through those elms with sweet accord,

We rebut the accusation, and sing them, in our least Gently sound to mine idol adored.

croaking notes, a light and graceful "To judge from a great proportion of the poems of Italy

MADRIOAL. which have been translated into our language, we might

Madonpa! whoso looks on almost be led to suppose that this passionate earnestness

Thy divinest beauty, was their sole characteristic. Even the stern Dante

Needs must feel devotion he who had more of “ the ancient Roman honour in him

Strongly war with duty. than any he that breathed in Italy"-yields to the “ soft

If it cause emotion, impeachment.” What a glow there is in the following

Gazing but one day, sonnet! and withal what a gentle and stately grace! It

Who is safe, I pray ? is like the silver swan gliding majestically along the surface of the lake.

Would it not then be, “ Negli occhi porta la mia Donna Amore."

In such doubtful war,

Prudence greater far Love in her eyes enthroned my lady bears,

To guard and not to see, So gentle makes she all she looks upon.

Than to see and guard ? Passing, all turn and bless her unawares

To see, but be prepared No heart but beats. If she saluteth one,

That the heart must rue it, All colour leaves his downcast face,—he sighs,

Best of all would be. Grieving for all his own unworthiness.

But, ah, the youth could do itAll pride or anger swift before her flies.

Lady, where is he?

M. C. Aid me, bright dames, her homage to express ! All gentleness, all thoughts of love, all kindness, Spring in the hearts of those who hear her speak.

MAGGIE ROUAT.
So to bebold how fair her virtues shine,

A TRAGEDY. IN THREE PARTS.
And to adore not, must be very blindness ;
But when she faintly smiles, all words are weak,

Part I.
So wondrous is that miracle divine !

By R. G. Mayne. But even in these hot climates there are cool shades, where refreshing sentiment, and more lofty reflection

Margaret Simson was the daughter of humble parents, flourish luxuriautly. In our last number we showed in the county of Ayr. With a comely figure and pretty Calderon, in stately verse, moralizing the stars into ephe face, she had her share of vanity; and, like her betters, ineral existences. To-day we show him, with the beau- could mock at the pains and anxieties of her rustic suitors. tiful perversity of imagination, endowing with enduring In the bloom of womanhood, however, but gay and light life the flowers which bloom and wither in a day.

of heart as in her most girlish days, she was united to John Rouat, a thriving fisherman. John's fortune con

sisted of his coble, three oars, his fishing gear, a moderate These flowers which now their glowing pomp unfold,

sum gradually saved, and the health wherewith ProviWaking beneath the eyelids of the morn,

deuce had blessed him. Margaret's former gaiety gradually Shall, when day sets, with drooping leaves forlorn,

subsided into a cheerful care for her husband's com iort, Sleep in embraces of the midnight cold :

and John's habits of industry became strengthened by These gorgeous tints, which shine like heaven adorning

increasing occasion for their exercise. Contented with Bright Iris, freak'd with purple, jet, and gold,

their allotment of worldly substance, all things went well. Shall be to mortal life a symbol warning

Johu's musings, however be might have been engaged, were How much of chinge doth one brief day behold.

turned homewards. The wind might blow, the rain pelt, The rose, she greets the morning but to bloom,

or fish be scarce,—he thought of the clean blazing hearth And blooms, but soon to fade in lonely bowers,

of his home, with the beaming faces around it, and cared A tomb and cradle for her brief perfume One bud :-And such, man's fleeting fortune towers,

Twenty years had passed away, leaving John Rouat Which in a day is born, and meets its doom

somewhat less active, with here and there a broad furrow In woe-for ages pist were once but hours.

traced by time or care, but still vigorous, and assisted by

two stout, well-favoured youths, his only surviving childCamoens saddens yet more his melancholy imaginings, ren. The lads were of restless dispositions, thoughtless, by calling to his aid the recollections of the Jewish cap- and self-willed. They early evinced dislike to their tivity.

father's calling, often hazarding, while yet mere boys,

their lives in some crazy yawl, with rude sail and rudder, Em Babylonia sobre os rios cuando

far upon the waters in the most boisterous weather. De ti Siað sagrada nos lembramos."

Their father looked upon their frowardness with painfal In Babylon, by streanis unknown forlorn

anxiety, and strove to check its growth; persuasions We sat, and wept when Zion we thought on, failed-hot expressions were used, and blows bestowedSad captives from our own sweet country torn;

yet all would not do. John, the oldest, was the first Our harps we hung the willow-trees upon,

openly to throw off his obedience. A revenue cutter, And strains that once in Zion sweet did glide, stationed on the neighbouring coast, was in use to anchor

In other measures pow were made to mourn; at stated periods in the bay; and, despite of his parents' Ah! other days indeed! when shall the pride remonstrance, be engaged himself as one of its crew. His Of Judah see those happy days return ?

father, provoked at his obstinacy, struck him when they Our cheeks upon our hands, with dowpcast eyes, met, and angrily forbade him ever to return home. The

THE FLOWERS.

not.

cutter soon sailed on her accustomed cruise ; and father south-west, were gradually swelling into thick murky and son parted in bitterness.

volumes, that drove heavily athwart the firmament. А James Rouat, because of his brother's behaviour, and stiff gale set in; the sun emitted a filmy light, and interas having often betrayed similar inclinations, was treated mittent half-formed waves lashed along the beach. These with greater rigour than before. It happened about this were succeeded by greater, spurting their spray high over time, that a young man belonging to a war-brig came, opposing fragments of rock; and soon the white surf of after three years' absence, on a visit to his mother and a thousand heaving billows speckled the dark waters. All friends in the village. James and he had been intimate appeared gloomy and sad, save the sea-birds careering on from earliest boyhood, and now their old acquaintanceship the blast, as if delighted with the conflict of elements. was warmly renewed. Robin told him

The storm arose so suddenly, that it had attained its “ How sailors lived like kings,"

greatest violence ere any of the fisherboats could be de

scried on their return to the bay of the village. Wives what sights they saw, and wonders they performed, how and mothers watched for their coming, crowded together happy at sea, and how jovial on shore ; till his enraptu- upon a little eminence. At length one boat was seen red friend resolved to go and be a sailor. When Robin striving through the deep, and the sight was hailed with Blair, therefore, returned to his duty, Jaines Rouat, with something like joy, although they knew noc whose it out his parents' leave, and scarcely with their knowledge, might be. Others were soon observed rising and falling bore him company, with the intention of entering into on the distant waves. By much exertion, they succes the same service.

sively but slowly neared the shore; their little parties John Rouat became morose and fretful, and his coun- were recognised and welcomed by hearts bounding with tenance wore an expression of settled gloom, while a sulky gratitude, and for a space all seemed joy and giadness in reserve in his whole demeanour made his acquaintance the hearty expression of mutual congratulations ; but one shun though they pitied him. He pursued his occupa- boat was still awanting-it was John Rouat's. tion as formerly, but without the same spirit, and his Margaret had stood apart, no one speaking comfort, so fishing seemed never so successful as it used to be when busy was each bosom with its own fears and emotions. his lads were with him: the thought of their desertion, Often she strained her gaze over the turbulent waters, just when increasing years most required their help, shed but her eyes were dimmed by the breeze, and deceived a deadening influence over all his efforts. His wife saw her. When the last boat touched land, and she saw not his unhappiness, and, stilling her own sorrow, strove to the old coble with its single occupant, a feeble cry broke inspire him with that comfort which she herself did not from her throbbing breast, and rushing to those who had feel ; but John Rouat would not be comforted.

escaped from peril, she wildly demanded her husband. One day, while he sat on the stone bench at his door, | The poor fellows she addressed, wet and worn with mending his lines, a saip letter was put into his hands fatigue, were stunned by her call, as if it brought some by the village postman. At first he thought it must be dreadful occurrence to their recollection. Some answered from one of his sons; his heart softened, and in the mo- not, and others spoke evasively, or made signs to their ment their disobedience was forgotten : but it seemed not companions. Margaret riveted her eyes upon the men the writing of either. Entering into his house, be open- -she knew that her husband was lost. ed the letter and read, in large uncouth characters, as John Rouat had that morning, before daybreak, rowed follows:

off to the accustomed fishing-place, distant about threo

miles, whither he was gradually followed by the other “ Mr Jhon Rouet,

boats belonging to the village. In his sad humour, John “ Fusber Man Scotlan

beld no communication with the rest; when the sound * in Beut.

of voices, or morning's dawn, informed him of their “ From our ship the Brothers Merchntman, proximity, he rowed farther away. Lonely and abstract“ 10 Jun 180—,

ed, he thought not of the gathering storm, nor of danger, “I rite this opertunity to let you kno as how your poor till the waves lipped over his boat's edge. As the threatjack is ded of' a teribl yellow tiver which he catshed soon ening aspect of the heavens became more apparent, the as our ship left Jamekamand axed me for to rite to let different fisherboats moved together, that they might rethe old peepl kno as how he dyd thinkng and Ripenteng turn in company for mutual protection. John Rouat sat of them.

unmoved. Again and again they ballooed, and called “I hav no more to say at presen but remains Your him by name; at last, seeing him raise his grapnel, and afekshonate jack's Friend,

Jhon Dempster."

dip his oars in the water, they steered for the bay.

In returning, the chief danger lay where the Frith is The wretched father read the letter aloud; towards the open for more than a mile to the swell of the broad ocean. close his voice became tremulous; as he finished, a heavy John Rouat's boat was the last that essayed to cross this groan escaped, and he covered his face with his hands. “ wild commotion." The storm continued to rage, and Margaret listened with that pain which only a mother huge frothy billows swept fearfully along. Awhile ho can feel. She watched in silence the motions of her hus- succeeded—but by efforts that exbausted his strengthband, but without venturing to speak ; for of late he had in keeping to the wind. He felt his coming weakness, been unkind even to her. He sat for hours gazing on and fear assailed his heart,still he clutched the oars, the embers, his rough hand pressed against his cheek; and and, by habit, drew them through the brine; but his no sound, but the shivering burst of sorrow, passed his strokes were nerveless, and suddenly his boat wheeled lips.

round, exposed to the influence of the tempest. BareIn a few days, John Rouat again plied his fisherboat; headed and aghast, he gasped for breath. His grizzled but the death of one son, and uncertainty as to the other's locks stood erect, and wildly he stared upon the waves fate, bowed down his spirit. He became more sullen and dashing over his frail boat. Still he tugged; till one distant in his manners than ever; the condolence of kind whelming billow, “ mightier than the rest,” came hea neighbours was hardly acknowledged, while their offered ving onward, now rising in a turgid mass, now subassistance was uncourteously rejected.

siding deep and hollow, to rise again with added force. Autumn had nearly reached its close, when one day He knew his doom-his bloodless lips quivered—the cold the sky became suddenly overcast, and to those accustom- sweat of agony stood upon his wan forehead--the oars ed to judge of such signs, portended a storm. The day escaped his grasp, and he clung convulsively to his bark, had been beautifully calm, but already could be traced on now cumbered with water. There was brief but awful the smooth surface of the bay, the rippled course of shift- suspense. Heavily man and boat descended in the deeping gusts; and long streaks of Acecy clouds which lined the ening gulf-rising, it encountered the briny wall-a gushi

of waters broke over it-one gurgling yell was heard, unrelenting hatred at his successful rival, who stands louder than the storm. The billow rolled onwards. over him, directing his sword point for the last deadly

thrust. How easy with a poet is the transition from

sternness to gentleness ! Did ever even Sbakspeare's mind EDINBURGH DRAMA.

conceive any thing more lovely than that sweet and gen

tle girl, who stands gazing heavenward in her sorrow, We have passed many

a delighted your within the allowing her last floweret to drop unremembered from her walls of our Edinburgh Theatre, but never one of deeper hand ? “ They all withered when my poor father died." feeling than was spent in witnessing the animated Tab- But more startling yet is the transition when, from the leaux from Shakspeare's plays, introduced into the slight depths of woe, we pass in an instant to a subject provodramatic sketch entitled “ Shakspeare's Dream."

king the most side-rending mirth. See there, beneath Let our readers who have not yet witnessed this spec- the oak of Herne the Hunter, Falstaff, with antlered tacle, fancy to themselves the stage, and the body of the brow, sinking in terror to the earth, at the shouts of the house, reduced to a kind of mysterious twilight. You Welsh fairy and his goblin crew, while the Merry can scarcely distinguish the company, but you are kept Wives of Windsor, two portly and comely dames, huddle aware of their presence by a low anxious murmur of their biting jeers upon him“ with the most impassable expectation. At the extremity of the stage is seen the conveyance.” What! is the base-string of humanity to glittering of a large, massive, richly-gilded frame. But be sounded yet deeper ? See the overstrainedly careless within it, there is only a black space. Two shadowy mien of Gadshill, as he seeks to persuade the carrier to figures-Oberon and Titaniaare fitting about the stage, lend him his lantern. One of the “hempen homespuns" waving their magic wands in mystic circles. Titania draws back in stupified astonishment at his forwardness, evokes the phantasm of Juliet. Low, tremulous music but the other, of a “prettier wit,” points with his finrises on the ear, gradually swelling to an expression of gers at the unreasonable beggar, as if replying with the intense passion; the black space disappears, and in the biting sarcasm, “ Lend thee my lantern, quotha ? Marry, bright but uncertain light of the moon, we see the gentle I'll see thee banged first." We wonder whether a man girl leaning on her balcony, with upturned look, absorb- could ever hold up his head again after such a retort ed in love's reverie. The first impulse is a hushing sense Last scene of all is Romeo dead beside Juliet's bier, and of wonder—the next is to give vent, in clamorous applause, the distraught maiden impatiently waving off the importo our feelings of admiration, and the whole house re- tunate friar. sounds with clapping of hands, bravos, and loud hurrahs. Nay, not the last scene; for, at the waving of King But the blackness creeps again over the beatific vision. Oberon's wand, the whole crowd of phantasms which

The music is changed. A less passionate and some have passed before our eyes troop together upon the stage what stately air is heard, and the enchanted island of the black curtain disappears—the statue of Shakspeare Prospero bursts upon the view, The fair Miranda is stands bathed in light, and all the shadowy beings point seated before a globe, upon which she rests one hand, to him as theirs. Pritchard has made us his own for while with the other she endeavours to raise a huge book. ever by the manner in which, in his character of ShakHer look is bent upwards, as if following the direction speare, he greeted this apparition on the first night of the of her father's band, who, propped on his wand, points representation of the Tableaux. He rushed forward, and to the skies. Ariel, with folded wings, reposes in a cor- prostrated himself before the image of his future self. ner. What a severe grandeur there is in the arrangement We know that these pieces of dumb-show are generally and attitudes of the group !

left to the actor's discretion; and we believe that this The music now expresses horror and dismay. In the action was basty and unreflected on Pritchard's partuncertain glimmering of a huge hall stands the guilty but it was exactly what he ought to have done. It was queen of Macbeth, essaying to wipe from her hands that the passionate yearnings of youth bowing down, in no blood which never can be hid from the mind's eye. Scarce- ignoble idolatry, before its own perfected genius. It was ly visible through the thick gloom, we see the anxious like frail mortality paying the homage of mingled awe and faces of the attendants infecting the spectators with con- delight to that more glorious state which itself is aftertagious horror. The white drapery of the agonized wards to attain. dreamer has a spectral and unearthly appearance.

But the green curtain has fallen, the lamps are rekinHark, to "the startling burst of the trumpets' blare!" dled, and the audience are either departing, or busied in Amid a glare of light, and elevated on the kingly dais, the momentous arrangement of shawls and cloaks. All the princely Edward and his brother York are enfolded are busy exchanging remarks on the delightful vision in the warm embrace of boybood's affection. Their dark they have seen. Have we indeed been slumbering among uncle, in feigned humility, and devotion to their service, so much good company? We felt as if in the dim cavern bends the knee before them. The scene needs but the of the weird sisters, beholding the dim phantasmata of applause of surrounding multitudes to make it right royal, future and contingent existence floating before us; and and there with a wish it comes thundering from pit, here we are in a moment, amid a gay and brilliant assenboxes, and gallery at once.

bly. But the impression left by these transitory glimpses “ A solemn, strange, and mingled air,

of beauty shall not thus pass away. By fits 'twas sad, by starts 'twas wild.”

Among the performers in the Tableaux, Miss Jarman

is entitled to our warm thanks for her Juliet-Mrs ScanWhom else could it herald but the moody Prince of Den- ley for her Lady Macbeth and Statue of Hermione, Miss mark? There he stands," as Kemble stood and Law- Turpin was the truest Ophelia we have seen, either on rence drew," wrapt in his inky cloak, and inkier thoughts, the stage or upou canvass_delicately beautiful, and overin a dim and blasted light, which seems as if it were a flowing with feeling. The Manager's Garrick, in the parcel of his fortunes. That pensive, upturned look, that tent-scene in “Richard III.”—a representation which has finger pointing at the skull in his hand, betoken the since been replaced by one of more bustle and incidentlong-drawn, shuddering sigh with which he exclaims, was the most startling piece of personation we have seen. Alas, poor Yorick !" How well does the picture har. It was the very picture. We have here specified a few monize with Shakspeare's poetry! At first all seems of those who did best where all did well. Our best darkness and woe, but there are gentle silvery glances of thanks are due to Murray, and to the eminent artist who the moon, which steal soothingly over us as we gaze. assisted him, for this rich treat. It is introducing an

But it is in vain that we endeavour, within our narrow entirely new source of delight upon the Edinburgh stage, limits, to do justice to them all. See there, amid the din and one which is susceptible of infinite variety. We and confusion of battle, Richard casting his last look of should like to see some of the best works of the Italian

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