The tragedy, whether considered as to the choice of the subject, the plot, incident, or language, is not entitled to the slightest praise. What motive the author had in publishing it we know not. As he has concealed his name his reputation cannot suffer; but, as the tragedy is said to be printed for the author,' we will not answer for his purse. We should be sorry to be severe on any writer, but particularly on a young one, yet we cannot avoid censuring the vanity of those who attempt an effort so noble as that of writing a tragedy, without the slightest qualification for the task. Foreign Literature. 22222. ENCOURAGEMENT OF THE have been employed so many years. A copy of this work cost nearly 400 guineas, and was, consequently, beyond the reach of most purchasers. Government had furnished all the funds for it, and, to enable others to possess the most splendid work in existence, it has granted to the famous printer, M. Panckoucke, the privilege of publishing a second edition, which will only come to eighty guineas. An octavo volume of text, with twenty-eight plates, will be sold for 6s. and the grand Atlas, in numbers of five immense folio plates, at 8s. 6d.-the mere cost of paper and printing. I will, with your permission, send you an account of the contents of this important work as the volumes appear. Z. Paris, Jan. 10th, 1821. ARTS AND SCIENCES IN FRANCE. Original Communications. To the Editor of the Literary Chronicle. WELSH LANGUAGE. To the Editor of the Literary Chronicle. SIR, An article appears in your last number, under the head of English Language,' which is so inaccurate on one point, that I hope you will permit me to offer a few observations respecting it. And this I shall do with the less reluctance, as I am aware, that the mis-statement does not originate with yourself. The part of the article to which I particularly allude, is that relating to the Welsh tongue, upon which subject I feel myself qualified to speak with some degree of confidence, from having, for some years past, paid considerable attention to it. SIR, I do not know whether the great difference between the English and the French Governments has been stated relative to the encouragement afforded to whatever can conduce to the interest or fame of the country. In England, the government throws a damp on every effort of genius; and, unless proposed by one of its own creatures, the greatest discovery may remain dormant for want of the slightest encouragement. In France, on the contrary, the King, the royal Family, and the ministry, each in his department, not only encourage but invite the efforts of genius: and if a person has conceived a happy idea, likely to be of public utility, he has only to communicate it to the Minister, who refers to a Secret Com- In the first place, the number of mittee, not appointed ad hoc, but a English words derived from the Welsh, permanent one charged with the exa- stated to be 111 only, is exceedingly mination of all projects for the public under-rated, perhaps by some hungood, and composed of men the most dreds. The fact seems to be, that nueminent for their learning and practical merous words, traced by English lexiknowledge in every art and science. If cographers to the Saxon tongue, orithe project be found useful, govern-ginated in reality with the Welsh, from ment affords the means of carrying it into execution. M. De Cazes, if not the founder of this system, was at least the great encourager of it; he nominated several committees for commerce, agriculture, and manufactures, with salaries, and the system has been continued by his successors. The liberality of the government does not rest here: it is anxious the public should be in possession of every thing relative to the glory of the coun try. You know the grand work in Egypt, on which the most learned men and the most able artists in Europe whom the Saxons not only received their alphabet, but, most probably, also some part of their languge. But this does not rest upon mere conjecture, since a competent knowledge of Welsh enables us to discover the roots of many Saxon words in that tongue; and, had Johnson and others possessed even a moderate acquaintance with Welsh, they would not have committed the flagrant etymological errors, which at present disfigure their works. I agree with that part of the article in question, which states, that the Welsh tongue is the most uncorrupted in Europe. Of this there can be no doubt; and the circumstance may be ascribed both to the isolated situation of Wales and to the character of the language itself, which is of a principle so different from that of other modern tongues, as hardly to admit of the least intermixture with it. But, when the article proceeds to assert, that Welsh, because the most uncorrupted, is therefore the worst, I beg leave to deny the conclusion, as most lame and impotent,' inasmuch as the converse of the same proposition would prove the most corrupted to be the best. But the assumption, in this case, can only have been founded in a total ignorance of the Welsh language, which, whether for its copiousness, its expressiveness, or its poetical capabilities, has no rival in any living European tongue, with which I am acquainted. 6 After what I have now said, it is hardly necessary for me to notice the assertion, immediately following the last, which charges the Welsh with being harsh and guttural, and of a very limited range.' The truth is, that it is by no means a harsh language, and possesses fewer guttural sounds than most others. The sounds, most generally prevailing, are the lingual, labial, and palatal: even the dental, which are really harsh sounds, are not at all of frequent occurrence in it. And to this I may add, that it possesses an unusual proportion of vowels and dipthongs. With respect to its limited range,' I am quite at a loss to conceive upon what the writer of the article could found his assertion. The language comprises some thousand words more than the English, as a reference to Owen's Dictionary will sufficiently prove: and the faculty it possesses, of forming compound terms on the principle of the Greek, is illimitable. I beg, in conclusion, to notice, that the Welsh is presumed by the best scholars to be, in fact, the ancient Cimbric, or, at least, to form the most perfect remains of that venerable tongue now in existence. And it is rather a singular confirmation of this hypothesis, that the Welsh call their language Cymraeg, and themselves Cymry, a name, that is clearly to be identified with the Cimbri and Cimmerii of former times, all which terms imply, acserved in the Welsh name, a primitive cording to the etymology still preor aboriginal people. SOCIETY FOR RECOVERING ESTATES. process to recover their estates which as bricks, then, when it is worked all together very well, take four sacks of To the Editor of the Literary Chronicle. the dust of small coal, and with that used SIR,-Two or three letters having then cast the ingredient as you cast as they do the sand for casting of brick; appeared in a daily print, in reference to the formation of a society with the brick, but half so thick, and dry it as view of assisting individuals by legal in round balls, not so big, with charbrick is dried; or you may make it up have been enjoyed by others not enti- coal or smallcoal dust on the outside, tled to them, I would call the attention and so lay to dry; when they be thoof your readers and correspondents to roughly dry, burn them with a little Scotch coal or wood, or any combustithe subject, and, through your respect-ble matter to fire it; or with two or able pages, suggest an eligible plan, three wooden chips to kindle your fire in which I am desirous to unite; for I could enumerate several instances of withall, and to keep in the life of the families who have lived in a state of heat, and keep fire for any use, to roast, fire, and these cast a most excellent poverty, when, if they had had legal assistance, they might have shared the boil, or bake, for the richer short; but comforts of independence. be sure you lay them not too close on the fire, but as you see your pattern upon this paper, mingled with a Scotch coale or two. Your's, respectfully, Jan. 8, 1821. P. P. P. ARTIFICIAL COALS. To the Editor of the Literary Chronicle. SIR,-Although the present winter, so far as it has advanced, has not been so severe as to require any extraordinary demand of fuel, yet as some of the daily papers have, during the last week, given an account of a substitute for coals, I beg leave, through the medium of the Literary Chronicle, to make known to the public, a similar plan which was published nearly two centuries ago. In the course of my researches at the British Museum, for a very different purpose, I met with a tract entitled, Artificial Fire, or Coale for Rich and Poore. This being the offer of an excellent new Invention, by Mr. Richard Gesling, Ingineer, (late deceased,) but now fit to be put in practice. London, 1644.' This tract, which is printed on an open sheet, laments the want of fuel among the lower orders in winter, which it stated to be so great, as to make some turne thieves that never stole before, steal posts, seats, benches from doores, railes, nay, the very stocks that should punish them, and all to keep cold winter away.' The remedy proposed is as follows: 'First provide a piece of ground where the sun lies upon it, and for the better ordering, take a brickmaker or a labourer to do it: do thus : THE SALUTATIONS THE JEWS AT THEIR FEASTS. (FOR THE LITERARY CHRONICLE.) 'Come kiss me sweet and twenty.'-Shakespeare. 'Take three loads of red mortar, such as you make bricks with, double loads, half a chaldron of good sea coals, of the smallest and best, three sack fuls of the An engraved diagram of a grate, with the best small coal, four bushels of saw-thing remarkable, but that the bars of the grate bricks and balls piled up, in which there is nodast, four trusses of straw chopped; are perpendicular, and not transverse, as in the work all these together with water, stiff present day. THE salutations of the Jews were testified either by words or some humble gesture of the body. When by words, these were the usual forms: The Lord be with you!' or, the Lord bless is often taken for saluting. If thou you! From the last of these, blessing meet any, bless him not; or if any bless times they said, Peace be unto thee'thee, answer him not again.' SomePeace be upon thee' Go in peace,' and such like. When ye come into a house, salute the same; and, if the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it, but if it be not worthy, let your peace return to you.' 6 By Gesture. Their salutations were whole body; sometimes, by kissing the signified, sometimes, by prostrating the feet; commonly, by an ordinary kiss. Moses went out to meet his father-inlaw, and did obeisance and kissed him. Moreover, Joseph kissed all his brethren, and wept upon them. This Saint Paul calls an holy kiss; Peter, a kiss of charity; Tertullian, osculum pacis, a kiss of peace. These were kisses a Cato might give and a Vestal receive. Of this sort, the Jews had three kinds,-a kiss of salutation, a kiss of valediction, and a kiss of homage; or, as the Hebrew signifies, a kiss of state or dignity, to testify their homage and acknowledgment of their king's sovereignty. Samuel took a vial of oil and poured it upon Saul's head and kissed him, which is referred to in the second psalm, kiss thy son, lest he be angry.' J. R. P. : Original Poetry. THE NOSE. A TALE. 'Twas evening, and the setting sun His farewell glance was giving, When Hal and Joe, quite ripe for fun, And eager to observe the living, Tripping fast the pathway o'erSeated themselves outside the door, And soon began To mark each man That nature had mark'd before. Their converse past Now Joe, a curious one had got, To view his eyes roll to and fro, What think you now of that one's nose? He look'd and laugh'd-for you must know, It from his eye-brow stately rose Round as sickle. Then came one When people say-'tis full of eyes.'- " Before I go,- way." WILFORD. TO THE SUN. O! thou that from Heav'n's azure field, Dispellest all the mists of night, Round as the warrior's ample shield, Whence is thy everlasting light? When, from the portals of the east, Thou comest in all thy majesty, The trembling planets sink to rest, Fine Arts. ESSAY I. 'Whatever adorns The princely dome, the column and the arch, The breathing marbles and the sculptured gold.' AKENSIDE. Do you imagine that what is good is not beautiful?' Have you not observed that these appearances always coincide?' Such are the questions which Xenophon has recorded as those of his master, the divine Socrates; such too are the questions which we may be allowed to put to those, who But then, ha! ha!-'tis hook'd the wrong would degrade the Fine Arts to the base office of the panders of luxury and licentiousness, though they are in reality the graces who attire in fresh and attractive charms, the Venus of Virtue, and who, by the extraneous ornaments which they lend her, afford new motives to prompt the mind of man' to high heroic deeds and fair desires, They have, at times, indeed, been seduced from their allegiance; they have been bribed, to paint in more glowing beauty, the mask that conceals the deformity of vice; they have, by their syren strains and angel forms, lured the unsuspecting voyager of life over the ocean of excess to the rocks of misery and guilt. But let him, who, on this account, would discard them from po lished life, shew us the human good The stars before thy splendour fly, The moon, herself, grows cold and pale, And sinks beneath the western wave. But thou-O Sun!-shalt never fail, Till Nature sinks into her grave. And laughest at the empty storm; While yet thy youth knows no decay; Age is unlovely-dark as night,— And youth returns not, when away. Jan. 1821, Downing Street. J. B. O. M. that has never been abused, and we will acquiesce in his opinions.-Let the enemy of the polished elegancies of life, prove to us that the greatest gift of God to man, religion, has not been perverted to the anomalies of supersti tion and the cruelties of bigotry; and, if in spite of history and fact, he shall be able to prove this, then he may be at liberty to discard the arts of civilization, as liable to be turned aside to purposes for which they never were intended; then let the zahozayador of the Attenian philosopher be thrown aside, and the barbarous bigotry and ignorance of an Omar be planted in its stead. Then, too, let the palm be torn from the brow of our great delineator of human nature; for he has declared that he who hath not music in his soul, and is not pleased with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for murders, stratagems, and spoils.' But the world is not doomed to gaze with terror on the death-struggle of the arts, or the destruction of the Corinthian capital of society. The age of Cromwell is passed away-our country is not destined again to behold the softer elegancies of life crumble beneath the rude touch of prejudice and fanaticism; nor all the fairy frost-work of polished refinement to melt at the glare of the red torch of Gothic superstition and intolerance. The world seems rather to be inclining to the opposite extreme of infidelity. At any rate, the arts, we may venture to hope, will have nothing to fear; unless it is the perversion of their excellencies to purposes unworof our own glorious constitution will thy of their divine origin. The liberty not withhold its enlivening influence from those accomplishments of life which dignify, support, and adorn the national character of a powerful em pire. We will indulge in the hope that she will spread her protecting wings over the gerins of art, and the diffidence of genius; and that our country, which has already gained the wreath of naval glory, which was once the crown of Athens, may hereafter rival her in the developings of genius and the encouragements of art. nautical fame, the warlike achievelike the baseless fabric of a vision, ments of Athens have passed away, and leave not a wreck behind,' save the narration that they were.' Her arts, her sculpture, her architecture, still exist, in spite of cormorant devour The time.' The nations still send forth their pilgrims to the shrine of her Mitrace each record of skill, each bright nerva; with patient assiduity they animated relique of genius; where the marble still breathes life and vigour the application of Horace's remark on from each mutilated limb, justifying a sister art ; 'Raised To height of noblest temper heroes old Deliberate valour breathed firm and unmov'd, With dread of death to flight and foul retreat.' In Athens, the sculpture and the painter were employed to perpetuate the memory of illustrious men and illus trious feats; and the representation of whatever had been achieved for the service of the public by heroic virtue, was preserved in the public buildings and the monuments of the dead; and the encouragement of these arts, in the metropolis of Greece, with the effects which they naturally produced, fully indicate the necessity, or at least the utility which accrues to the state from the cultivation and fostering of taste and genius in its individual members. W. H. PARRY. The Drama. racter of Mandane, in the opera of Artaxerxes. Independent of this novelty, the opera presented great attractions: Braham in Arbaces, Horn in Artabanes, and Madame Vestris in Artaxerxes. Au opera thus cast gave a powerful aid to the fair debutante, who, on her entrée, was welcomed with a burst of ap curacy. MR. KEAN, IN AMERICA: [Although we have no very exalted opi markable degree, the power of ascending or descending the scale with rapidity and great distinctness; and, ocDRURY LANE.-MISS WILSON.casionally, she passed from one part of nion of the critical acumen of our transOld Drury,' had its triumph on the scale to another, omitting the inter- atlantic brethren, yet to gratify those of Thursday, in one of the most crowd-mediate notes, with quickness and acour readers, who, like ourselves, are ed and elegant audiences we ever witadmirers of Mr. Kean's talents, we innessed; and in the debut of a young sert from a New York paper, entitled Mr. Braham, whom we have often lady who is one of the greatest acquisi- seen and admired in Arbaces, never the American, a critical notice of two tions that the musical world has receiv-appeared to greater advantage. A colof that distinguished actor's best characters, those of Richard III. and Othello. ed for many years. Miss Wilson, for lision of talent is always favourable to -ED.] that is the name of the young lady, the best performers, and it was evident RICHARD III.-The character of Ricame forward with a royal imprimatur: on the present occasion. Madame Ves-chard, we might readily imagine from his present Majesty, whose knowledge tris sang charmingly in Artaxerxes, his history, must be extremely difficult of music is, perhaps, equal to that of and Miss Povey was a sweet Semira. to be represented in any manner comany of his subjects, having spoken in We must not, however, forget Mr. ing up to the peculia: traits that disthe highest terms of her talents. Ever Horn, who deserves much praise for the tinguished it; and though Shakespeare stuce she was announced, public ex-spirited style in which he acquitted found in the groundwork of his chapectation had been on the tiptoe, and himself in Artabanes: it was his first racter certain leading marks, in the dewe never saw an audience look so anxiappearance in that character, and was lineation of which he particularly exously for the rising of the curtain as on marked by the audience as a very suc-celled, yet that mixture of intellecThursday night, when Miss Wilson cessful one. On the conclusion of the tual vigour with moral depravity,' so made her first appearance in the cha-opera, the pit waved their hats amidst conspicuous in the features of his life, the loudest cheers of the whole audi-and the different passions that actuated ence. Miss Wilson's success was so him at times, must ever make the part great that Mr. Elliston has announced extremely difficult for a perfect execuoperas three nights a-week. tion, although the character has been Sheridan's truly inimitable co- most ably and happily portrayed. medy of the School for Scandal, Many performers, who were at the was performed at this theatre, on Tues- height of their profession, and who exday night, with the novelty of two first celled in characters in which it might plause which overwhelmed her; and appearances. Miss Chester, a young be supposed success was more unather trepidation was, for some time, evi- lady who, we believe, once played Por- tainable, have entirely failed in that of dent. Miss Wilson, in person, is ra- tia at this house, was the Lady Teazle Richard. The part of Macbeth has ther tall, but graceful and elegant; of the evening, and sustained the cha- been successfully personated by those her countenance is agreeable and ex-racter with much judgment and discri- who have entirely misconceived that of pressive; her voice is powerful, and, in mination. She was most successful in the crooked-backed tyrant. It was one compass, nearly equal to Catalini, of scenes which were serious and pathe- of those characters the late Mr. Cooke whom she often reminded us, as she tic. Mr. Cooper was the Joseph Sur- particularly excelled in; it was that in did, in other respects, of Mrs. Billing-face, and although, in some scenes, he which Garrick first appeared, and that ton. The character of Mandane is one acquitted himself well, yet we must which laid the foundation of the high in which the passions alternately swell confess that he is not a good hypocrite. standing which Mr. Kean has acquired in disdain, and melt into tenderness, Elliston's Charles Surface and Mun-in his own country, and the first in touching, occasionally, on both ex- den's Sir Peter Teazle are too familiar which he has appeared in our's. That tremes, and requiring a power of ex- to the public to need any remark. Mr. Kean's performance of the characpression suitable to these vicissitudes. ter is original, is indisputable; it was When she suug, If o'er the cruel Tyso in England when he first appeared rant love,' she electrified the audience, in it, and is clearly so to us. It is who testified how they had been enright, therefore, that we should throw raptured by an universal encore. In aside any dislike we might have, on the the beautiful airs of Fly soft ideas' ground of our being unaccustomed to and Let not rage,' she was equally COBURG THEATRE.-On Monday the execution of the character as done happy, but her greatest triumph was evening, a new melo-dramatic romance in the manner of Mr. Kean. Indeed, her bravura singing in The soldier was produced, entitled-Who owns the in England, on his first appearance in tired of war's alarms,' in which great Hand? or, The Monk, the Mask, and Richard, there were considerable doubts power, rapidity of execution, and pre- the Murderer. The piece has been got as to his merits, for no other reason than Cision were delightfully combined. Al- up with great splendour; the incidents that his performance was original. It though power is the predominant cha- are striking and well-inanaged, the is but justice to Mr. Kean, therefore, racteristic of Miss Wilson's voice, it scenery very good and appropriate, and that, if he has hit upon a happier conpossesses much softness and delicacy; the piece is interesting throughout. ception, according to his own belief, we She sometimes struck a low chord Mr. T. P. Cooke and Miss Watson should judge and criticise it with canwhich was quite melodious, and soon performed the parts allotted them ad- dour and fairness. Full of curiosity after raised her voice to a key where, mirably well, and, indeed, the whole and anticipated pleasure, we went to permitting it to rest awhile, it died away of the performers played with much witness Mr. Kean's first appearance on like an echo. She has also, in a re-spirit and effect. the American boards, and the follow COVENT GARDEN. Mr. Barry Cornwall's new tragedy of Mirandola has been frequently repeated since our last with increased success, and may be fairly said to be fully established in public favour. ing is the result of our observations: to speak generally, his figure and looks were well adapted to our ideas of the tyrannical Richard; his voice is not good, especially when he elevates it, when it breaks in the most disagreeable manner; and his delivery is new: every word comes forth as if it were measured in a slow method of speech he uses, which, as it was continued through all those scenes where it was possible to employ it, rendered it at length very tiresome, and by no means agreeable. We really thought, at times, that he was reading the part in his own closet, deep ly intent on the study of it, preparatory to his performance. We agree with a London critic, that the courtship scene, with Lady Ann, is an admirable exhibition of smooth and smiling villainy;' but we witness ed not only in that scene attempts at stage effect, but repeatedly in the denouement of the plot. The apparent uneasy delivery of the sentences, if original, is certainly not pleasing, not withstanding each word is expressed with great precision and distinctness; and although an English writer, (Mr. Haslitt,) cannot imagine,' as he observes, any character represented with greater distinctness and precision, more perfectly articulated in every part,' yet this perfect articulation,' distinctness, and precision, appear to us to be attended with a most uneasy way of delivery, there being too much an appearance of artificial manner. In repeated sentences, too, we observed a pause at the end of the word preceding the last, and after stopping a few seconds or so, pronouncing the last word. This was done, doubtless, in order to give effect to the whole. We took notice of this, we were about to say, in almost every scene he appeared. Another circumstance struck us, which more fully evinced the aim of the performer; it was those sudden transitions which were so strikingly displayed. It cannot be denied that some of them were powerfully and ably executed, where they were required; but in the words of one of his own critics. his delineation of it should have somewhat less brilliancy, fewer glancing lights, pointed transitions, and pantomimic evolutions, with more solidity, depth, sustained and impassioned feeling;' or, in other words, he seems to have at his command a variety of resources, in order to give a continual eclat to his performance, and he incessantly employed them, as in making those long pauses, quick transitions, and, among other things, as Mr. Haslitt, in his lectures, calls it, sown The tone here used, was nearly similar to that before mentioned, and appeared to strike us more as if it were delivered tauntingly, or so spoken from malicious delight at Brabantio's certain defeat and his own sure acquittal, than the observation of the dignified Othello, who, though sure of success from Desdemona's presence, yet does not manifest any eager anticipation, which would leave an inference, that if the decision of the senate were in his favour, he would evince more malicious pleasure at it than proud satisfaction. Othello.-One of the peculiar traits From not only the different passions in Mr. Kean's acting is seizing on the that take possession of the Moor, but imagination by frequent, sudden, and from their constant collision, the chastriking changes; as from the highest racter of Othello becomes one wherein key to which his voice is elevated, when the power of an actor can have full disin an ebullition of passion, down in a play. In the onset, we find him all moment to either a soft or familiar fondness for the beauteous Desdemona; tone, according as Mr. Kean conceives then the seeds of distrust are the particular passage requires. This, by the villain lago; Iago's continual it is true, is very often applicable and feeding of the fire he had kindled folhis surmise concerning conformable to the true spirit of the lows next; author, but that it is proper to make Cassio, his infernal scheme with the those pointed transitions' in all the handkerchief, and the warring conflicts particular places Mr. Keau has thought between doating fonduess and supposed right to employ them, can scarcely be dishonour, are inimitably delineated. allowed, when we once come to consider Although the character of Othello the propriety or correctness of it. Two possesses these great advantages for the instances of misapplication in this re- display of the talents and genius of an spect, we observed in Mr. Kean's per- actor, yet none can claim a perfect informance of Othello. The first, when fallibility in an accurate conception of it; Othello is before the senate, on the and that Mr. Kean does not enjoy this charge of Brabantio, that his daughter infallibility, and that he is by no means had been stolen, and corrupted by exempt from error, and those not unspells and medicines bought of moun-important or accidental, has appeared tebanks; Othello requests the duke to us on a critical investigation of his to send for Desdemona, and the duke merits and faults, and that, too, withgives orders to that effect; immediately out any nice acumen or determination after, indeed the words fetch Desde- to pick out every little mistake or inacmona hither' had scarcely escaped the curacy that may have been casually duke's lips, before Mr. Kean (Othello) committed. says to lago, in a hurried, quick, and unnatrual tone and manner, 6 'Ancient, conduct them; you best know the way.' Othello, without doubt, was desirous of transition may force an applause from the sudden way in which they were spoken, and the tone and manner above mentioned, but never can be quoted as a specimen of fine acting. The other star the conclusion of his defence beinstance occurred in the same scene. fore the senate, he observes, 'Here comes the lady, let her witness it.' In the third scene of act third, Othello and Jago enter immediately after Cassio had been importuning restitution of his lieutenancy. Desde Desdemona to procure of the Moor the mona begs of her husband to call back Cassio, and says, 'Shall't be to-night at supper? Oth. No; not to-night. Des. To-morrow dinner, then? Oth. I shall not dine at home; I meet the captains at the citadel.' The tone in which these answers were given, would lead to the belief that the previous exclamation of Iago, on seeing Cassio in entering the room, Ha! I like not that,' had already instilled into the mind of the Moor a distrustful conducive to such belief, or that would feeling towards his wife. Any thing in the least leave any suspicion of the sort, should be particularly avoided; |