now and then a little want of historical keeping by an involuntary allusion to some modern custom, which shewed it was an Italian of the Nineteenth Century and not a Greek of the heroic times, that was speaking. But this defect was more than compensated for by the extreme vivacity of the dialogue, which sometimes became so earnest, that the interlocutors interrupted each other, on which occasions a shout of applause arose from the audience. At the opening of the tragedy, the queen Erista is desirous of having Philisthene, the son of her husband by his first wife Temisto, assassinated, and for this purpose she applies to the high priestess of Bacchus, whom she charges with the execution of the foul deed, as she may easily accomplish it amidst the unbridled disorder of the Bacchanalian rites about to take place. Temisto, though filled with horror at the proposition of destroying her own son, affects to consent lest the queen may intrust the deed to other hands. Temisto then resolves to have an interview with her beloved son, and accordingly meets him in a wood consecrated to Bacchus. After some preliminary ques tions, she asks him in a tremulous voice" if he loved his mother?" "Love my mother!" repiies the young prince, "I think only of her, I live only to avenge her.' At this declaration Temisto can scarcely refrain from throwing herself on his neck. During the whole of this scene which is even a long one, the audience were in a flood of tears. In the second act, we find the young prince passionately enamoured of Ismenia, the daughter of Erista by a first husband. The grand priestess, without discovering to Philisthene that she is his mother, acquaints him that it was the queen Erista who contrived the ruin of Temisto, and had her sold into Egypt as a slave. This fatal disclosure plunges the young prince into a cruel dilemma, between his passion for Ismenia and the solemn vow he had made at the altar of Bacchus to avenge the wrongs of his mother, as soon as he should learn their author. In the midst of this struggle between love and duty Ismenia appears, and Philisthene, in his trouble and confusion, tells her that it is her mother the queen who has been the contriver of Temisto's ruin. Then ensued a scene of love and despair which drew forth abundant tears from the spectators. It would be too long to follow in detail the entire of the tragedy; I shall therefore come at once to the catastrophe. Philisthene to avenge his mother endeavours to poniard Erista, but through a fatal mistake pierces the heart of his mistress. On discovering his error, he plunges the weapon into his own breast, takes the hands of Ismenia, and after a few broken expressions of mutual tenderness, which could not be heard for the sobbing of the audience, the two ill-fated lovers die in each others arms. Not to dilate more upon a subject which may to you appear frivolous, I shall merely add, that at the last scene the emotion of the spectators was at its height, and that I have rarely, if ever, seen such plenteous and natural tears shed at a tragical representation by actors of flesh and blood. Having spoken to you of the tragic and comic Fantoccini, I shall terminate this rather too long letter by a few words upon the satirical Fantoccini. Having met here a charming family with whom I was intimately acquainted at Naples during the reign of Murat, I was invited to a private representation (they having had, and with some reason, an unbounded confidence in my discretion) of a satirical comedy, something in the style of the Mandragora of Machiavelli. In this piece

the actual manners of some of the leading characters in Rome are touched off with the most striking verity. From the very first scene it brought to mind the Proverbes Français of Carmontel, and the admirable truth with which that writer (too little known in England) has painted the manners of the French under Louis XVI. The piece I witnessed on this occasion was called Si farà si o no un secretario di stato? One of the characters in this piece is no less a personage than the reigning Pontiff, Leo XII, who abhors his pro secretario di stato, the Cardinal della Somiglia, an old man eighty-two years of age, formerly a man of much skill and address in the management of affairs, but now almost incapable from nearly a total loss of memory-a singular quality or rather absence of a quality in a minister of state. The scene in which this memoryless Cardinal is represented speaking to three persons, a curate, a cattle drover, and the brother of a Carbonaro, who have each presented different petitions to him, but which he continually confounds in replying to them, is delicious. The Cardinal, who perceives that he is confounding the petitions, still boldly makes head against his infirmity, and pretends to have a perfect recollection of them, which he proves by speaking to the drover of his brother, who has conspired against the state, and is suffering the just severity of the law, while he endeavours to convince the unfortunate brother of the Carbonaro of the inconvenience of admitting into the Roman territories two hundred head of black cattle from the kingdom of Naples. In listening to these pleasant absurdities, uttered by a little personage twelve inches high and clothed in the scarlet robes of a cardinal, tears were starting from every eye with excessive laughter. The company present consisted only of eighteen, some of whom directed the movements of the puppets and spoke for them. I remarked with pleasure, that the only want of respect towards Leo XII. on the occasion, was exhibiting him thus in miniature. The part assigned to him in the piece is not a ridiculous one-it may even be said to be a flattering one from its energy; for in truth this poor Pope, exhausted by long sickness, had lost all firmness of character. The way in which these comedies are got up is as follows. The outline of the plot or Ossatura, is agreed upon beforehand by the actors, or to speak more correctly, by those who speak for the puppets. The plot thus arranged is written out and a copy stuck up opposite each of those who speak behind the scenes, of whom there is one for each puppet. Those who speak for the female characters are young women. The last time I was at the Fiano palace, having gone late I could only find a place in the pit close to the stage, from which situation I could not avoid seeing the young girl who spoke for the heroine of the piece. This of course destroyed the feeble degree of illusion so necessary for the production of dramatic pleasure. I soon left the theatre, but before quitting my place, I could not help being struck by the gestures of the young girl who was speaking for the puppet, which were quite as animated and much more natural than if she had been upon the stage herself. In general the dialogue at the Fantoccini displays much more of natural intonation and richness and variety of inflexion, than the more measured and affected declamation of the regular theatres. The reason may be, that, besides the fervour of improvisation, the speakers have not to attend to the play of their countenances, or the management of their attitudes, not having the eyes of the audience upon them. This latter circumstance is parti

cularly favourable to satirical comedy, such as that in which I saw figure, Cardinal Somiglia, Leo XII. and his Confessor, the famous banker, Tourlouso, Duke of Bracciano, and other well-known Roman characters. The young gentlemen who spoke for the puppets, imitated not only the accents of these personages, but even the tournure of their ideas, so that the mimicry was admirable. Three or four of the company present had passed the early part of the evening with those grave and potent persons, whom they had then the delicious pleasure of seeing exhibited in little. This species of comedy, when it is not a caricature, but gay and good-naturedly comic and natural, is, at least to my taste, one of the most delightful of intellectual pleasures to be met with in a despotic country. Apropos of despotism; I forgot to tell you, that the principal actor, or more properly, speaker at the Fiano palace, is regularly sent three or four times a-year to prison for some breach of either moral or political bienseance, which escapes him in the fervour of improvisation. These sojournings in prison would be still more frequent, were it not that the manager of the concern takes care to pay the two or three spies charged by the police to watch the representations of the Fantuccini, and report any impromptu indiscretions they may be guilty of. This manager, who is wise in his generation, instead of paying the bribe to these Arguses after the performance, gives it to them beforehand; so that being generally half-seas-over at the rising of the curtain, though they may see double with their corporeal eyes, yet their intellectual optics are somewhat obscured. Another circumstance

characteristic of a despotic country is, that the manager of this theatre and his partner, who is a carpenter, make up their accounts every night and pay off all demands, as if the undertaking were at an end. I am told their net profit, one evening with another, is about forty francs each representation. Girolemo, the director of the Fantoccini theatre at Milan, died a short time back, after having amassed a fortune of 300,000 francs. For this he was in a great measure indebted to the excellence of his ballets. The degree of grace and möelleux, which he succeeded in communicating to the ronds de jambes and entrechats of the little wooden figurantes must have been seen to be credited. It was no unfrequent thing to hear said in Milan, that Girolemo's first puppet excelled the principal dancer at the Scala. The favourite comic personage of Girolemo's pieces was not, as at Rome, Cassandrino. In a country the government of which was not exclusively in the hands of celibataires, such a character would have been without zest. Gianduja,, the comic personage employed by Girolemo, was a Piedmontese valet, who, astonished at the manners and habits of the good people of Milan, makes the most droll observations upon them in his Piedmontese patois. There is not a little humour in the idea of such a personage, who, surprised at every thing he sees, either asks a reason for it, or else explains it to himself by the most ludicrous and caustic suppositions. In their impromptu comedies, these invariable characters, whose habitudes are traditional and known beforehand, are great favourites with the Italians. They obviate the ennui of an exposition or explanation: hence the vogue of Harlequin, Pantaloon, Bughelli, &c. It would appear from some antiquarian discoveries lately made at Naples, that similar personages of a fixed and invariable character were employed in the Pieces Attelans, which were played before the time of the Romans and under

them at Capua and the neighbouring towns. I shall terminate this long letter by recommending the English dramatic authors to try their pieces with puppets before venturing them before the public. Such an essay would be infinitely more seful to them than the counsel of ev en their sincerest friends. I can assure you that on the second time of witnessing the Fantoccini, you are no longer affected by the exiguity of their stature, and that the illusion is very nearly as perfect as upon the larger boards trod by living actors. At all events for satirical comedy the Fantoccini present an unique resource. I have just heard of a comedy of this kind lately played at Naples, of so dangerous a nature, that the actors and audience amounted only to six persons-three being spectators. On the second night's representation, the spectators changed places with the actors, in order that the latter might share in the amusement in their turn. The entertainment, I understand, was piquant in the extreme. I can only at present tell you the names of the characters, which were, the King of Naples, the Prince Royal making a formal complaint of his wife, and the Duchess of Florida, the left-handed spouse of Ferdinand. I can well imagine what a rich harvest of the ludicrous the buffoon-like manner of speaking of the king, who discusses even the gravest matters of state in the language and with the gestures of a lazzaroni, must have offered. This monarch, in his truly royal naïvetés, has said a hundred things equally as amusing as the Sansdot of Moliere's Avare, or the pauvre homme of his Tartuffe; but tempting as the subject is, I must halt here, for it is too dangerous a one to trust to the ineffectual guardianship of wafers or wax. Besides, my letter is already of too unconscionable a length, particularly as I fear that your incredulity will revolt against much of what I have been saying (though said most truly) upon the comedies, tragedies, satires, and ballets of the Italian Fantoccini. B.

INDIAN ANECDOTES.

SEVERAL attempts have been recently made to attract attention to the state of the North American Indians, both in our own possessions and those of the United States, with a view to ameliorate their condition and prevent their utter extinction. All that relates to the developement of the character of man in his savage as well as civilized state, is calculated to accelerate the progress of knowledge and must be generally beneficial to mankind. Mr. Hunter, it is well known, lately published a work of a very singular character upon this subject, calculated to throw light upon the habits and manners of the singular race, who scantily peopled the northern regions of America, prior to its discovery by Europeans, many tribes of which have altogether disappeared. Numberless peculiar customs and singularities of language distinguish this people from the Aborigines of every other known territory, and it is doubtful whether any offer a more interesting subject of research. The North American Indian stands in the highest rank of uncultivated man. His religious creed, at least that of many of the tribes west of the Mississipi, resembles that of the Jews, in being a pure theism. He is a lover of freedom, and nothing can bend him to slavery, being indissolubly attached to roaming the vast forests and beautiful savan

nahs of his native land. He exhibits great nobleness of character, singular magnanimity, strong parental and filial attachments, a love of truth and sincerity in his intercourse with his friends, and a degree of bravery and sagacity in war, almost incredible. He is a cruel and revengeful enemy, but he rarely becomes an enemy without adequate cause. Persecuted, belied, and cheated, by the whites, he has been represented as destitute of virtues, worthless, and ferocious; when in reality he frequently exhibits great generosity, elevation of spirit, and energy of address, which are not surpassed among the inhabitants of civilized communities. The Indian attacks upon the whites have rarely or ever been made without ample provocation; among themselves they have been encouraged by the colonists in their intestine wars, and have been paid by them per scalp, for the destruction of their brethren. The robberies and murders of Indians often perpetrated by backwoods-men, and the knavery of white traders, the continual encroachments of the colonists upon them, the sufferings they have undergone from the introduction of ardent spirits, and the feuds that have been carefully promoted between the different tribes, have rapidly diminished their population; and the time approaches very fast when in all the vast tract east of the Mississipi not a single aboriginal American will remain. The traditions of the Iroquois abound with touching relations of the injustice they have sustained from the whites, from their first settling in the country. "We and our tribes," say they," lived in peace and harmony with each other before the white people came into this country; our council-house* extended far to the north and the south. In the middle of it we could meet from all parts to smoke the pipe of peace together; when the white men arrived in the south we received them as friends, we did the same when they arrived in the east. It was we, it was our forefathers, who made them welcome and let them sit down by our side. The land they settled on was ours. We knew not but the Great Spirit had sent them to us for some good purpose, and therefore we thought they must be a good people. We were mistaken; for no sooner had they obtained a footing in our lands, than they began to pull our council-house down, first at one end and then at the other, and at last, meeting in the centre where the council-fire was yet burning bright, they put it out and extinguished it with our own blood!† with the blood of those who with us had received them!-who had welcomed them in our land! Their blood ran in streams into our fire, and extinguished it so entirely, that not one spark was left us whereby to kindle a new fire; we were compelled to withdraw ourselves beyond the great swamp, and to fly to our good uncle the Delamattenos,§ who kindly gave us a tract of land to live on. How long we shall be permitted to remain in this asylum the Great Spirit only knows. The whites will not rest contented until they shall have destroyed the last of us, and made us disappear entirely from the face of the earth."||

The introduction of civilization into America and the establishment of a mighty empire there, has not been effected without the committal

* Alliances.

+ Murdering us when assembled for pacific purposes.

Alluding to the massacres of the Conestago Indians by the whites. § The Thurons whom they so denominate.

|| Buchanan.