dofence, until she became fairly tired of them her- came early in the morning, and placed most costly self. Edward saw her home, and as they passed jewels before his bride: she started, but Sophia still the kitchen, he perceived Emma standing at the more, because the jewels surpassed her own. "They fire, to prepare something for her mother; her fea-are well enough," said Edward, "but nothing in tures, enlivened by the blaze, appeared to him as comparison to what I hand you now." "Emma charming as any he had seen this evening; and al- opened and found the wedding ring wrapt in her though her sister had thrown out some hints, that bill, which she recognised at the first glance. be was in a fair way for overcoming his rival, his Explanations ensued: the mother embraced her restacy had been considerably cooling since the last good daughter, and the sister tossed up her pretty dance, and a veil had fallen from his eyes: he would nose. perhaps have relinquished his conquest at once, had The sisters met but seldom after marriage, and not his vanity prompted him to fancy that Sophia there was a great disparity betwixt their two famihad only been unwilling to give over because she lies: blooming children were to be found in the one, was dancing with him; but he had the courage to and lapdogs in the other. bring her love to the test. He waited until the mother was quite recovered, and then he appeared with an assumed melancholy, and stated that his late father having been bondsman for an officer of the Treasury, who proved to be a defaulter, the family estate would be put under sequestration, and might be ten years in clearing itself, so that he had henceforth nothing to depend upon but his pay: yet, added he, let but Sophia's love be the same, and I shall have lost nothing. He had seen her change colour when he began his story, and it did not escape him how hard she now laboured to hide her emotion. An anxious period ensued; but she soon recollected herself, and laying at last her hand upon his, she said, in the most friendly manner," Hark ye, my good friend, I will not deceive you; I am a spoiled child, and have a great many wants: we are not living now in Arcadia, and we both know that the warmest affection will starve without the needful: I have a truly great regard for you; but one ought to be reasonable: let us henceforth live on terms of friendship." Edward certainly felt a painful sensation at this very candid declaration; but the effect was a good one, it cured him radically. He had perceived that Emma's eyes were bathed in tears during the whole of the transaction; and at the time he said that he was not so much grieved for himself as for his mother, he saw the needle tremble in her hand, whilst she looked at him with the most terader expression of sympathy and benevolence. Eaward continued to visit the house; but in order to give probability to his device, he sold his horses, and introduced retrenchment in every visible department. Sophia was not long in showing that she found now his frequent presence rather oppressive, and she appeared so much the better pleased with that of Charies, upon whom she now directed the whole power of her charms; indeed she drew the net so tight, that he was almost continually at her feet, imploring her to make him the most enviable of morials: she coquetted and plagued him yet awhile, bat gave at last her consent: he was in raptures, and the most magnificent préparations were made for the nuptials. Edward kept himself very quiet, but a singular occurrence soon brought him into action. He re ceived a letter from home, which included a bill of £59, that had been sent with an anonymous note requesting not to refuse the gift of a good heart. A spark kindled in Edward's breast; be flew to the drawer, and asked, "Is this your draft "" "It is." -"For whom?" I have value received."-"By whom?" "I am not to tell."-"But it has been sent to my mother." "That is no business of mine." -"Will you tell me if I guess?" "I will.""Miss Erama." "Aye." Out rushed Edward, and not five minutes elapsed before he was with Emma, eatreating her to become his wife. She hardly understood his meaning, and could not conceive what brought him to such a sudden conclusion: he had long possessed her esteem, but never had she indulged in any such expectation. Their marriage was, however, fixed for the same day on which the other couple should be united, and they prepared themselves with becoming economy. Emma's modest attire contrasted very much with the splendid dress of her wealthy sister, but Edward Emma lived only for her husband, Sophia only for the great world: in that she sought an intoxicating indemnification for reality, as long as her beauty made her daily surrounded by fresh admirers, and as long as her husband's riches offered the means for extravagance. But alas! her charms began to fade, and the treasures were exhausted: she contracted debts, and he lost her jewels at the gaming table; they avoided each other, and met only with mutual reproaches. At last Charles left her without taking leave, and was never more heard of. Poor and helpless, Sophia now came to her sister. She was cheerfully received, and treated with the utmost tenderness; but her conscience was less tender, and a hectic cough gnawed at her health: no vestige remained of her beauty, and bitterness had taken possession of her soul; incapable of enjoying happiness herself, she could not endure that of others; and after having in vain attempted to create dissension betwixt husband and wife, she did her utmost to torment the children and servants. When her cough was but heard at a distance, it would immediately produce a gloom on the merriest countenance, and her very name spread the alarm in the nursery: even the habes were hushed into silence with an exclamation of “Aunt is coming." HEROES IN DAYS OF YORE. ON THE EXPLOITS OF DE COURCY. "The day came, the place appointed, the lists provided, the scaffold set up, the Princes with their nobility of each side, with thousands in expectation; . forth comes the French champion, gives a turn and rests him in his tent. They sent for Courcy, who all this while was trussing of himself about with strong points; and answered the messengers, that if any of their company were to go to such a banquet, he would make no great haste. However, forth he comes, gives a turn, and goes into his tent. "When the trumpets sounded to battle, forth came the combatants and viewed each other.Courcy beheld him with a wonderful stern countenance, and passed by. The Frenchman, not liking his grim look, the strong proportion and feature of his person, stalked still along; and when the trumpets sounded the last charge, Courcy drew out his sword, and the Frenchman ran away, and conveyed himself to Spain. Whereupon they souuded victory; the people clapped their hands, and cast up their caps. "King Philip desired King John, that Courcy might be called before them, to show part of his strength and manhood, by a blow upon a helmet. It was agreed. A stake was set in the ground, and a skirt of mail, and a belmet thereon: Courcy drew his sword, looked wonderfully sternly upon the Princes, cleft the helmet, shirt of mail, and the stake, so far in, that none could pull it out but him self. Then the Princes demanded of him, what he meant to look so sourly upon them: his answer was: if he had missed his blow upon the block, he would have cut off both the Kings' heads. All that he said was taken in good part; and King Johu discharged him of all his troubles, gave him great gifts, and restored him to his former possessions in Ireland." "Some writers (Mr. Stewart observes) deny the truth of the above narrative, because it contains some improbable circumstances. However, an immense sword, said to have been used by De Courcy on the occasion, is deposited in the Tower of London; and the Lords of Kinsale are possessed of the right of wearing their hats in the King's presence, on account of the exploit, real or supposed, performed by their ancestor." "Now we," says an Irish journalist, "have some "De Courcy was accompanied in his adventurous means of corroborating this story. We have on our exploits in Ulster by the ancestors of the Savages, table an old History of the Grandees of Spain, the Yordons, or Jordans, the Fitz-Simonses, Ben-printed at Madrid in 1711, in which we find the sons, Russels, Andeleys, and Whites. Manmer gives the following curious account of an extraordinary action, performed by the heroic De Courcy: above anecdote of De Courcy confirmed in every essential particular. We shall translate from it at a future opportunity. It quotes several authorities "Not long after, there fell some difference be- for the facts narrated, and states, that the De Courcy tween Johu, King of England, and Philip King of of Kinsale, on being required by King John to ask France, for the right of some fort in Normandy, some special favour for his services, roughly dewho, to avoid the shedding of christian blood, manded that his descendants should have the privi agreed of each side to put it to combat. On King lege of keeping their heads covered in his presence, Philip's part, there was a Frenchman in readiness. and that of every future King of England. The King John, upon the sudden, wist not what to do French champion, it further states, was not more for a champion to encounter him. At length one rude and insolent than was De Conrcy himself, and attending on his person informed him, that there the privilege he obtained has been acted on by the was Courcy in the Tower of London, the only man De Courceys ever since, the new Lord always in his dominions (if he would undertake it) to an- coming to court wearing his hat, to vindicate the swer the challenge. King John joyful of this, seut right. The Spanish Grandees do the same, but the first year, the second and third time, promising they, however, assumed this right; it was not large rewards and rich gifts; and that it stood him granted to them by any of their Kings. Their poupon, as far as the honour of his crown and king-liteness, however, induces them sometimes to depart dom did reach, to make good the combat, Courcy from the custom, and they usually expect some answered, very forwardly, (the which was taken in good part, in regard of the urgent necessity) that he royal mark of favour for the exception, which the King as often grauts." would never fight for him, neither for any such as he was; that he was not worthy to have one drop of blood spilled for him; that he was not able toreIllegal Act.-A more flagrant outrage upon law and quite him the wrongs he had done bim, neither to restore him the heart's-ease he had bereaved him of; common decency we have seldom heard of:-Lately was yet, notwithstanding all the promises, he was willing, married at Bedminster, Benjamin Gay, of English batch, near Bath, to Elizabeth Hawkins, wife of David Hawand would, with all expedition, be ready to venture kins, late of Dunkerton, who sold her for five shillings, his life in defence of the crown and his country. and concluded the bargain by giving her to her new Whereupon it was agreed, he should be dieted, ap-husband, at the altar. On their arrival at home, the pareled, and armed, to his content; and that his bridegroom beat his daughters, and turned them out of own sword should be brought him out of Ireland. the house, to make room for his new purchase. FROM THE NEW SATYRE CALLED ADVICE TO JULIA. The following glimpse of Almack's with the disappointments arising from the inflexibility of its fair Directors, is very lively and amusing: O! Julia, could you now but creep Incog into the room and peep, Well might you triumph in the view Of all he has resigned for you!Mark, how the married and the single In yon gay groups delighted mingle! Midst diamonds blazing, tapers beaming, Midst Georges, stars, and crosses gleaming, We gaze on beauty, catch the sound Of music, and of mirth around;" And Discord feels her empire ended. At Almack's, or at least suspended. Here is the only coalition "Twixt Government and Opposition; The Whig for female power and glory As great a stickler as the Tory: For, mortals, happy you may be At Almack's, but you can't be free: Bent both in body and in soul To gentle, absolute control. Yet though despotic, why should any call... What form is that which looks so sinister? Midst fragrant flowers and shrubs exotic ;- Suppose the prize by hundreds miss'd The rule's so strict, I dare not stretch it," 'Cries Willis, pray, my Lord, go fetch it." "Nonsense," you cry, so late at nightSurely you know me, Sir, by sight." "Excuse me the committee sat This morning."-" Did they; what of that ??? .. An order given this very day, My Lord, I dare not disobey." "Your pardon." -Further parley's vain; So for your ticket in the rain, Breathless you canter home again. Thus cur'd (and can th' expense be less?) And say, do they abuse their powers Here once you walked your midnight round Perchance at home on tenter hooks, What sounds were those! O earth and heaven! So when a packet hurries over Such is the rule, which none infringes, Spite of persuasion, tears, or force, "The law," he cries," must take its course". And men may swear, and women pout, No matter, they are all shut out, "Friend, I'm the ministry, give way!" THE SOLDIER'S WISH. On the banks of the Ebro as oft times I wander, I think on my Mary, my sweet smiling infant; 1 King...4-5 2 King....4—4° 3 King....4-3 4 Castle from 3-3 to 4--3+MATE. DR. RADCLIFFE'S OPINION OF A COLD. 44 Doctor Radcliffe, of whimsical memory, was so truly sensible of the ill effects of a cold, that when he once met an old friend who he thought looked very ill, he eagerly asked him what was his complaint? "nothing of any consequence," replied the gentleman, I yester day was overtaken by a soaking shower, but I have only taken cold."-"Only taken cold?" said the doctor, "only taken cold! Why what the d--I would the man take, an ague, a fever, or the plague? A cold, my good sir, in this variable clime, is the parent of almost every complaint that man is heir to; and had the mass of society sense enough to guard against it, they would have so little occasion for medical advice, that three- " two upon a horse." ride "Love is independent of forms and ceremonies. These may establish affection, when it has once sprung up in the breast, but they cannot create it. Love is an affair of the heart, not of the head." Stecle. SIR, I have read the letter in your last Kaleidoscope under the signature of "A Young Bachelor," and as I am, I believe, the young Lady alluded to in the Postcript, I must entreat you will insert this in your next publication. TO THE EDITOR. to the EDITOR. SIR,-Having observed a degree of regligence in the exercise of your authority as censor; an authority which I was in hopes would have been exercised by you, to the correction and redress of grievances, and of unadvisable practices, new and old, I am induced to offer some strictures upon a practice which I deem unadvisable; with your permission, therefore, I will assume your discarded office, craving pardon for such presumption. Early to bed and early to rise, An I was in Duke-street on Saturday the 19th August, was a maxim of the "good old times," of which our at the time mentioned by the Bachelor with such nauti-grandfathers are continually reminding us: those times cal precision; and it would be only senseless prudery have passed away-the maxim also is slighted even in me to deny that I observed I was noticed by a gentle- from the first to the last among us. My observations, man on that occasion. The homage of man is always however, are not directed to the first or to the lastgrateful to our sex, and I cannot say that I am altoge- but to certain tradesmen, who, like their betters, are serious in his wish to become acquainted with me, he with their revels, but with their toils. A few years Indeed if your correspondent is in the habit of vexing the still midnight, not, indeed, may have that wish gratified on Friday next. On that ago it was the general practice to close the shops at day I shall be opposite the Park Church, at six o'clock eight or nine o'clock; now ten, eleven, or even twelve in the evening. The distance from Liverpool will be is discovered to be soon enough for apprentices of foursufficient to prevent the intrusion of impertinent curi- teen and upwards, and their masters to cease from their osity, but not too great for the zeal of ardent affection. labours. This modern scheme of becoming wealthy I must take the liberty of adding, Mr. Editor, that (health and wisdom being of minor importance in those if your correspondent meets me, I expect he will conduct enlightened times) is principally confined to a few of himself as a gentleman; for though with a woman's our younger tradesmen, who, it seems, hope, by this weakness, I have consented to, perhaps, an indiscreet means, to get up a name for more than ordinary diliinterview, yet I have sufficient spirit to check presump-gence and application, and for having something to do. tion, and too much self-respect to submit to insult. Accordingly one of these diligent Knights of the CounI am, Sir, your humble servant, ter may be seen, bustling about his shop with laudable perseverance, an hour or two after those respectable Liverpool, Sept. 9, 1829. ANN B classes, whose good opinion he is so solicitous to gain, have ceased to journey to and fro in the streets. acquaintance of mine is seized with this obliquity of intellect; it is not often, during the light of day. that I find him oppressed with business: his labour begins when that of others ceases-it is then that his troubles come upon him his hands are so full that he finds it hard work to get through-he is finishing off orders that he had not time to attend to in the day. It is not easy to make out the destination of these orders. I have reason to think that his labour. does soniewhat resemble that of Penelope; having caught him best left to correct itself, if it was equally harmless: the day. All this is sufficiently ridiculous, and were more than once, undoing at night what was done in but an ill-fated wight of an apprentice must share in this silly affectation of diligent attention to business. The poor lad just taken from school, when eight or nine o'clock was probably the latest time of retiring to rest, is now doomed to close confinement from an early hour in the morning till 11 or as often 12 at night, the consequence is that his health is undermined, and must soon sink under this excess of fatigue... How this plan predicted by Dr. Johnson, viz. “That trade will desis to get up the name of the shop I cannot conceive: it may perhaps have a tendency to put off the evil day troy itself in the end, by reason of competition; it may somewhat diminish the number of competitors, and in so far be in conformity to modern policy and expe SIR-It is, with no trifling regret, that I find the above remarks of a celebrated poet apply to some little circumstances which have occurred to me, since my arrival in this town, of far-famed celebrity and public spirit. As a stranger, I must apologise for the liberty I take, in requesting your insertion of the following re-ther insensible to it. marks in your paper. I am, Sir, one of those persons called a citizen of the world; and wherever my fortune leads me. I note, in my journal, all that is worth seeing, and particularly the manners, customs, &c. of the people I happen to be amongst. I had hardly satisfied the cravings of nature, at the hotel where the stage set me down, before I was roused from my lethargy by my accustomed curiosity; and, sallying forth, the first object that attracted my notice was your Town-hall. I had surveyed its external, and that of the adjoining buildings, in raptures of admiration: from the grandeur of these, I was justly led to expect that their interior must be of corresponding magnificence; and venturing in at one of the doors of that noble building, a few steps progress brought une into the company of a stranger like myself. After a few moments we gained admittance, and toge ther passed through the different apartments, mutually admiring the elegance of the furniture, &c.; and having had our curiosity amply gratified, we were endeavouring to make our retreat, but just as we were crossing the threshold of the outer door, we were accosted by a female of most respectable appearance, with, "Sirs, a Krall sum is usually paid by visiters." Without a moment's hesitation we each gave a trifling douceur, but at which she did not seem much pleased; conceiving, I suppose, that it was not sufficiently ample for her attentions. Now, Sir, allow me to ask a question; pray what is done with the money so collected; do your body corporate authorise the levying of such a tax? Allow me to remark, that if they do, in my opinion it is very disgraceful; but if this money is raised for a charitable purpose, it should be stated by those making the deand: it would then be given with pleasure, and without any parsimonious feeling. Having made our escape from this fair tax-gatherer, and being pleased with the society of my newly-acquired acquaintance, we agreed to prosecute our researches together, and with some dificulty found our way to your Royal Institution; which characterises so greatly institutions of the same here we expected to have found some of that civility nature on the continent, and latterly those in your own metropolis; but what was our disappointment, when, upon requesting admittance, we met with a blunt repulsion; and were told we could not enter, except in the iz company of a subscriber. Now, Sir, pray allow me to ask what opinion do you think two strangers, thus treated, would form of the liberality of your institutions. I had flattered myself that from the museum in your Royal Institution should have been amused, and might have thought it worth my while contributing to the same. Yours, &c. A FOREIGNER & NATURALIST. AFFAIRS OF THE HEART. ΤΟ THE EDITOR. SIR, The amazing powers displayed by M. R. in his calculation of the time employed by the German Schoolmaster in inflicting his punishments, brings to my recollection the calculation of as able a mathematician as himself. it was in the year 1809) an English groom was engaged TO THE Editor. SIR,-I understand it has been customary heretofore for the parish to afford relief to the wives and children of seamen, when they are absent, in case of real necesSIR,The lady that had the honour of attracting the sity. The money so paid, I am informed, is mostly retice of a "Young Bachelor," on Saturday afternoon covered by deducting it from their wages when they st, presents her compliments to the Editor of the Ka- arrive here; however, the late discussions having arisen doscope, and begs he will have the goodness to inquire, on economy, the parish-officers have thought proper, in his next publication, whether she is correct in guess-general, to refuse giving any assistance to the persons g the initials of his name to be J. S.; if not, the near semblance he bears to the person alluded to, will peak more in his favour with her, than all he has said n his candid description of himself. Liverpool, September 7, 1820. L'INCONNUE. diency." render every exertion necessary to the success of young It will be alledged that taxes, rents, and bad times tradesmen. All this is too true. Far would it be from lieve that this new system was the remedy for these me to cast reflections upon young tradesmen, did I bedifficulties, or that it was likely to afford any equivalent recompence for the sacrifices attendant upon it. It, instead of adopting this plan, the young tradesman would study economy rather than an expensive show in fitting up his shop, if he would suffer the like economy to pervade each branch of his expenditure, instead of weakly affecting an appearance above his means, he might safely sacrifice the profits of his late hours, (if indeed there be any profits); he might find his account in taking my text as his guide to health, wealth, and wisdom; he would find it to be wisdom, to secure to himself willing and faithful servants, a point of the greatest importance, one too, which a hard master never can secure. CENSOR. A robber, dressed in the shape of the devil with horns, tail, &c. lately made an attempt to rob a farmer at York, in Pennsylvania; but by the assistance of a pedlar, who happened to lodge there on the night ef the attempt, his satanic majesty was secured, and put in irons, to await his trial. Natural History. OBSERVATIONS ON FISH. Fish are supposed not to possess the senses in the same degree of perfection as other animals. Their sense of feeling appears not to be acute. Whether they can smell at all is doubtful; and that they do not possess the sense of taste, or have it in an imperfect degree is probable, because the palate of most fish is hard and bony, and consequently they are incapable of relishing different substances, and they swallow their food without mastication. Whether fish possess the sense of bearing is a disputed point. I am rather inclined to think they do not. Monroe, Hunter, and Cuvier, have claimed the merit of discovering the organs of hearing in some fishes, but observation seems to oppose their theories with respect to fishes in general. Mr. Gowan, who kept some gold fishes in a vase, informs us, that whatever noise he made he could not disturb them. He hallooed as loud as he could, putting a piece of paper between his mouth and the water, to prevent the vibrations from affeeting the surface, and the fishes still seemed insensible; but when the paper was removed, and the sound had its full play upon the water, the fishes seemed instantly to feel the change, and shrinked to the bottom. From this we may learn, that fishes are as deaf as they are mute, and that when they seem to hear the call of a whistle or bell at the edge of a pond, it is rather the vibration that affects the water, by which they are excited, than any sounds that they hear. The sight is the most perfect of their senses, and this seems to supply their want of others. They leap out of the water to catch the smallest flies in a summer evening, when it is so dark that we cannot discern them. The angler need not employ half his ingenuity either with respect to tackle, or baits, or of caution in fishing, if he had not their quick eyes to contend with. Yet it is probable fish can see objects only at a short distance, as the crystalline humour of their eyes is quite round, like that of persons who are near-sighted. You must have observed this humour: it is like a pea; it is hard when boiled, but in the natural state it is transparent and soft as jelly. Many fish live only on the vegetable productions of the water, but in general they devour their own species, other animals, or insects, or the spawn of other fishes. Crabs and other shell fish are often found in the maw of a cod, and rats and even ducks have been found in the stomach of a pike. The long apparent abstinence that some fish have been known to undergo, or rather the small quantity or the peculiar nature of the food they had to support them, have induced some persons to believe, that they can derive nourishment from water only; no kind of food is found in the stomach of a salmon, and no bait will tempt a herring or a char. But they may all derive considerable support from the in fresh and salt water, and which, taken in continually, myriads of minute insects, which we know to abound and digested almost as soon as taken, would discover little or nothing in their stomachs. Although the duration of the life of fish is not accurately ascertained, yet some are known to reach a great age. Gesner asserts, that a pike was taken at Hailbrun, in Swabia, in 1497, with a brass ring affixed to it, proving it to be 267 years old: and a carp has been known to live above a hundred years. If the scale of a fish be examined through a microscope, it would be found to consist of a number of circles, one circle within another, in some measure resembling those that appear upon the tranverse section of a tree. You must reckon one circle for every year of a fish's life. By this method Buffon computed a carp, the scales of which he examined, to be a hundred years old. You must not let the astonishing fecundity of fishes escape your observation. M. Petit, of Paris, found that the roe of a carp 18 inches long, weighed 8 oz. 2 drams, which makes 4752 grains, and that it required 72 eggs of this roe to make up the weight of one grain, which gives a produce of 342,144 eggs contained in this one fish. The tench is more prolific than the carp, and many other fish are remarkable for their fecundity. Statement of the comparative fecundity of Fish :--Perch.......28,323 Spawns | Roach......81,586 Spawns Pike........49,304 Tench.....383,252 above 500,000, the flounder more than 1,000,000, and the cod more than 9,000,000 of eggs. The design of the great Creator in such an amazing increase is certainly to furnish food for many of the feathered, as well as the finny tribes; and yet to allow enough of each species to remain for its preservation, and for the annual renewal of the same beneficent purposes. That mankind have their full share of the abundance produced by this vast propagation, the following facts may prove a vessel catches upon the great bank of Newfoundland from 30 to 40,000 codfish in one voyage. Sometimes 80 barrels of herrings, each containing from 5 to 800 fish, are taken by the boats of a single vessel near the western islands of Scotland. But this number will appear small, if compared with the following account of pilchards caught upon the coasts of Cornwall. Mr. Pennant says, Dr. Borlasse assured him that on the 5th October, 1767, there were at one time inclosed in St. Ives' Bay, 7000 hogsheads of pilchards, each hogshead containing 35,000 fish, in all 245 millions. Miscellanies. AMERICAN TRIBUTE TO BRITISH HUMANITY. in the vicinity of Preston; where they propose to pur sue the truly liberal system of philosophical education recommended by Dr. Darwin, and the first writers of the last century. For particulars, the public are referred to Dr. D.'s system of female education; and for terms, to the ingenious Miss ⚫. All sorts of masters are provided for the indispensible accomplishments of music and drawing. Botany and chemistry are explained to the young ladies by a very ingenious pupil of Dr. Beddowes. Mademoiselle G. herself will instruct them in the French, English, and Italian grammars; and Miss W. in writing, moral and experimental philosophy, geometry, and the use of the globes. Skating and swimming in all their various branches, will be taught, if required, by an emigrant from the Baltic. Every attention is paid to the health and appearance of the young ladies. Inflated beds and pillows for the use of the seminary at a proper distance from the walls: also oxigen and hydrogen gas, and cow stables, elegantly fitted, for the use of such scholars as may be subject of pulmonary complaints. Any form of religion which a parent may be partial to, will be taught, if desired, by a ci-devant General in the French service, who has resided nine months in England, and has impartially considered the subject in a philosophical and unsophisticated light. N.B.-Safe cosmetics to be procured for the use of the society and a fine bear killed once a quarter. Gowland's lotion and Olympian dew contracted for by the year or quarter, if required. Guitars, pandean pipes, Jews and German harps, castanets, fiddles, bassoons, viols, trumpets, and all sorts of wind and other instruments lent out on the most health from Dr. Climax, an eminent student from reasonable terms; and the society will receive visits of Aberdeen. Villa Albani, near Preston, LITERARY TRIFLING. Some Literary lounger with more enthusiasm pr bably than common sense, has been at the pains to make the following calculation: A Persian master is engaged to qualify young ladies sel lost at sea in January last, has published a nar-exportation, or to render them every desirable accom Capt. Courtois, who commanded an American ves- for the intense climate of India; and no efforts will be omitted, on the part of the teachers, to facilitate their rative of the circumstances that attended the loss of plishment suited to this country. the ship, which reflects infinite credit on the inhabitants of Poole, for their kind and humane treatment towards him and his crew. It appears that the American vessel, the Two Generals, sailed from Charleston in January, and on the 25th of that month, after encountering several successive gales, it was discovered at six in the evening, that a leak was gaining so fast on the ship, that she must sink in the course of an hour. At this moment, says captain Courtois, "A blessed Providence interfered; a sail was discovered about eight miles distant, which was not seen before from the darkness. We hoisted our signal of distress, and directed our course towards her; as soon as she perceived us, she backed her main-topsail and waited for us. She proved to be the brig George, of Poole, capt. Grossard, from Newfoundland, bound to Poole, capt. G. no sooner heard our tale of distress, than he not only offered to receive us on board his vessel, but he ran himself to assist us, humanely advising us to be quick, as another tremendous gale was then coming on. We then abandoned the ship, she having nine feet of water in her. The captain, passengers, and crew of the brig received us in a manner that will When arrived at Poole, we were received with much ever be remembered with the warmest gratitude. compassion by many gentlemen, particularly Mr. R. Slade, the owner of the brig George. Too much cannot be said in his favour. He conducted myself, wife, and daughter, to his house, and introduced us to his family. My wife having lost her trunk, she was supplied with every thing she stood in need of by Mrs. Bishop. The whole family were profuse in their kindness, and Mr. Slade requested us to make what use of his house we wished. A subscription was formed for our relief by this humane gentleman (himself and family at the head of it), and we soon were enabled to pay our expenses incurred at Poole, to proceed from thence to Portsmouth, and thence to Havre. My crew were put in a boarding-house by the officers of the Poor-house, who defrayed all expenses incurred for board, and also paid their passage to Cowes." CURIOUS ADVERTISEMENT. (From the Globe of Jan. 1799.) Mademoiselle Grignow and Miss Wilhelmina Winkins, having seen and lamented with regret the inade. Your astonishment will be increased, when you ex-quate state of education in this country, respectfully tend your observations to sea fish. Take the following inform their friends and the public in general, that they climax of increase as calculated by Lewenhoeck, a have removed their society of young ladies from Marvery accurate naturalist. The mackarel produces ket-lane, London, to a commodious and airy situation SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS, Containing the exact number of lines comprized in each of the admired Plays of our immortal Bard, who we must observe, was rather unfortunate in not living at a period when authors were paid by the line, is made from Bell's. Edition, we have not included or his rewards would doubtless exceed even those f the Ariosto of the North." In this calculation, whi of his Poems, which were, however, of considerable length. Part II..... 3092. Winter's Tale ......... 3343 King Henry IV Part II 3265 sor... ...... Two Gentlemen of Ve 3475 ................ 234! Antony and Cleopatra 3509 2829 King Lear. .............. 3442 Cymbeline .............. 3748 2306 Coriolanus............. 3767 King John.............. 2639 Julius Cæsar............ 2599 Richard 2d 2794 Romeo and Juliet..... 3057 Midsummer Night's Titus Andronicus. 2530 Dream............. 2182 Troilus and Cressida 3575 All's Well that Ends Well............... 3094 King Henry IV Parti. 3116 105,972 of Mr. Benjamin Ridout, three single stalks of what There are now growing at Odcombe, in the garden bearing respectively 22, 21, and 19 ears, each measuring from five to twelve inches in length, and they all proceed from the top part of the stalks. Scientific Records. (Continued from our former Numbers.) FURTHER PARTICULARS OF THE LATE OPENING The river itself was covered with different parties in boats, its northern banks exhibited lines of carriages, horsemen, and pedestrians, booths, and other places for refreshments, while the precipitous declivity on the south, occupied by numerous groups picturesquely scattered on its surface, produced the most delightful effect. A little after noon, Capt. Brown, the inventor, crossed and re-crossed the bridge in a tandem, followed by a number of loaded carts, amidst the loud cheers of the multitudes assembled, while the bands of the Berwickshire Militia, and the Northumberland Local Militia, played "God save the King." Soon afterwards, the Trustees of the Berwick roads, and a large party of gentlemen, with the Earl of Home at their head, preceded by the bands playing the King's Anthem, crossed from the northern to the southern end of the bridge, and returned, giving three cheers at each side of the Tweed. The ceremony, here ended, and the strength and fitness of the beautiful structure being thus ascertained, the barriers were removed, and the public permitted to pass. All the rank, beauty, and fashion of the borders, were assembled on this occasion. Amongst the gentlemeu present, we observed Professor Leslie, of Edinburgh, and several other gentlemen of science, who admired very much this curious specimen of the arts, so nicely adjusted in all its parts, while at the same time, they considered it in a national point of view, of much importance. This bridge is only to cost £5000; a stone bridge at the same place would have cost upwards of £20,000, and it possesses this superiority over a stone bridge that, from having no pillars or support in the middle of the water, it will not be liable to be swept away by the floods of the river. It is obvious, therefore, that bridges of this nature will become general throughout the island. slave to the strongest possible likelihood of being | matists. As a poem, Virginius has many genuine hanged. On Cedric's attempt to escape, Ulrica passages-such as the speeches of the father in the stops him, as in the novel; but with an appearance forum-the misgivings of the innocent girl-and the and language more in nature than that of the origi- whole courtship of the lovers, which is a rare innal hag, whose language and look are all through stance of the union of scenic effect with delicate demoniac. Front de Bœuf makes perpetual court loveliness of fancy. to Rebecca, perhaps too much in the style of lover The past season will be also well-remenihered by rather than of tyrant, and Rebecca seems almost the lovers of the drama, as having shown to the ready to accept him, but for some chance interrup-world the sources of Mr. Macready's genius, which tion. This we conceive heresy against the essentials before were hidden, or only guessed by a few attenof the story. In her danger, she is saved by the tive observers. No performer, within our memory, suggestion of Front de Boeuf to demand a champion, has succeeded in spite of such formidable obstacles. and the Templar himself offers to defend her, and His appearance had not the freshness of noveltyBut the he had often been seen in a variety of inferior and the oppressur is at least half a hero, stronger inspiration prevails, Front de Bauf stands often disagreeable characters-and, except in a very forth the champion of his Order, and the luckless few instances, had acted parts of mean malignity, Jewess is kept in formidable suspense until Ivanhoe not only beneath, but wholly unsuited to his powers. comes in with trumpets sounding, beats the cham- His performance of Rob Roy first showed the cordipion to the ground, and then spares his life at the ality and nobleness of his spirit, and that of Morintercession of the lady. The rest is clamour, fight- daunt in the Steward, the intensity of his passion. ing, threatening, the assault of a castle, and the ex- But these were prose parts at the best; and success posure of Ulrica on the summit of a blazing tower, in them was no proof of capability to succeed where it seemed extremely doubtful whether she was in Shakspeare's principal characters.-His attempt to be burnt up by the conflagration, or crushed to to play Richard was adventrous almost without atoms by the fall. Ivanhoe, after the assault, raises parallel-from the great excellence of Mr. Kean in his visor, is reconciled to his father, and receives the part, and from the violent feeling of exclusive the hand of his fair mistress. The heroines are two; attachment which so many cherished towards Rowena and Rebecca; but the former had only a that admirable performer. Yet he triumphed over trifling portion of the Drama's singing to sustain, prejudice and party; gave to this often-repeated which she did with the usual sweetness of Miss character the air of novelty; and necessarily withStephens. The greater share of the attraction must out aid from any other actor, rendered the play atbe divided with the scenery. The Moon-light forest, tractive for nine or ten nights, at a period when and the interior of Cedric's house, were excellent. theatrical enthusiasm was comparatively feeble. In But the master-piece of scene and pageant was the Coriolanus, the fresh recollection of past greatness convocation of the Templars for Rebecca's trial. presented almost as severe an obstacle, as the admiThe long procession of the Knights in their snowy ration of present excellence in Richard; for an atrobes and scarlet plumage, with their banners and tempt so soon after Mr. Kemble's retirement, to shields overshadowing and glittering round them, embody the part which the imagination identified the royal state of the Grand Master, and the splen- with him, was regarded as little less than sacrilege: dour of the seated court, were among the finest dis- Mr. Maeready, however, so skilfully brought out the plays of the stage. more human of traits of the character-the young partrician enthusiasm—the filial love-the swelling and noble contempt of base disguise—and the terrible struggle of affection with pride-that he gave a new striking idea of the part, whithout disturbing that which his great predecessor had bodied forth with equal vividness and majesty. His Macbeth also was an attempt of great peril; because he had Covent Garden Theatre closed on Monday the fame to cross his path, but was unaided by any supnot only the long shadows cast by Mr. Kemble's 17th of July, when an address of thanks-neatly port in Lady Macbeth which could heighten the delivered by Mr. Fawcett. There were at least two deur, is a fearful weight for one individual to susworded, but not very particular in allusion-was attraction; and the play, with all its unearthy grangrounds on which the managers might have built a tain. Yet here his bewildered air-his looks of a well founded claim to praise, for their conduct dur-haunted wildness-and his gallant bearing-preing the past season-the production of a genuine sented a picture of the character before but dimly tragedy, and the development of the powers of a great and genuine actor. Virginius is not, indeed, a revival of the dramatic style of our elder writers; but we do not, on that account, think the less of its beauties. It has no passages of strange power, no rapid succession of delicious fancies, like those which abound in the plays of the Elizabethan age; nor is it so rich in the materials of passion or of imagination as the works of that golden period. But it is more simple, more pure, more consistent; and more capable of producing a single and sweet impression on the heart; and infinitely better adapted for representation on the stage, than any of these, excepting the works of the first of all dramatists. We shall rejoice to perceive the spirit of our old writers imbuing all our literature with its rich tinges; but we freely confess that we do not desire to see our The following may be an acceptable addition to poets attempting to produce works exactly similar the account we gave last week, of İvanhoe of Drury-to theirs, nor do we think that such works would laue. The Musical Drama, from the Romance of succeed in the theatre. The exquisite grouping of Ivanhoe, was performed March 2, at Covent-Garden, all the persons-the pure, yet intelligible, beauty of in which the story of the novel was pursued much the domestic scenes-and the manly and sweet cast closer than at the rival house, and the aids of of the sentiments in Virginius, appear to us far more pageant and scenery were most largely given. Cedric calculated to delight, to move, and to refine a vast is taken prisoner, and rescued by the ingenuity of concourse of spectators, than the marvellous but illWamba, the jester, but with rather too great facility connected scenes, the wild luxuriance of language, on the part of the Saxon chieftain, who leaves his and the strange bewildering passion of our old dra The extreme length of the suspending chains from the point of junction, on each side of the Tweed, is 500 feet; from the stone abutments, or towers, 432. The platform or roadway, is 360. The height of the bridge above the surface of the river, is 27 feet. The weight of the chains, platform, &c, is about 160 tons; but the bridge is calculated to support 360 tons, a greater weight than ever, in any probability, it can be subjected to. Although twelve months have elapsed since the work commenced, we can state, on good authority, that the workmen have not been employed above one half of the time. lu the centre of the bridge, on each side, is the following inscription: "Visunita fortior.”—(Berwick Advertiser.) The Brama. (Continued from our former Numbers.) -IVANHOL, AS GOT UP AT COVENT GARDEN. VIRGINIUS AND MACREADY. (From the New Monthly Magazine.) seen even by the mental eye. His success in Virginius is less extraordinary, because he had less to overcome than in either of his other principal efforts; and assuredly never has there been exhibited on the stage a performance of more variety, yet more entirely harmonious. MR. MACREADY. The following notice of this gentleman appeared in a late number of the London Courier: Covent Garden, is the view of which it has afforded The principal characteristic of the last season, at the public of the gradual development of the gigantic powers of an actor, who seems destined to reach the highest pinnacle of histrionic fame. Mr. Macready has advanced by slow but sure degrees. That kind of modesty, which is the sign and concomitant of true genius, restrained him, rather too long we think, from attempting any of the great standard characters of successively in Richard the Third, in Coriolanos, and Shakspeare. At length, however, we have seen him in Macbeth; in all which he has met with the most triumphant success. We have heard those say, who have seen both Garrick and John Kemble in the days of their glory, that Macready unites in his person the |