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'Midst tow'ring cliffs and tracts of endless cold,
Th' industrious path pervades the rugged stone,
And seems-Helvetia, let thy toil's be told-
A granite girdle o'er the mountain thrown. (b)
No haunt of man the weary traveller greets,
No vegetation smiles upon the moor,
Save where the flow'ret breathes uncultivated sweets,
Save where the patient monk receives the poor.
let not these rude paths be coldly traced,
Let not these wilds with listless steps be trod;
Here fragrance scorns not to perfume the waste,
Here charity uplifts the mind to God.
His humble board the holy man prepares,
Extols the the treasures that his mountain bears,
And simple food and wholesome lore bestows,
For while bleak winter numbs with chilling hand,
And points the perils of impending snows.

Where frequent crosses mark the traveller's fate;
In slow procession moves the merchant band,
And silent bends, where tottering ruins wait.
Yet 'midst those ridges, 'midst that drifted snow,
Can nature deign her wonders to display ;
Her Andularia shines with vivid glow, (c)
And gems of crystal sparkle to the day.
Here, too, the hoary mountain's brow to grace,
Five silver lakes in tranquil state are seen,
While from their waters many a stream we trace,

That, 'scaped from bondage, rolls the rocks between Hence dows the Reuss to seek her wedded love,

And, with the Rhine, Germanic climes explore; Here-stream I mark'd, and saw her wildly move Down the bleak mountain, through the craggy shore. My weary footsteps hoped for rest in vain,

For steep on steep, in rude confusion rose; At length I paused above a fertile plain

That promised shelter and foretold repose. Fair runs the streamlet o'er the pasture green, Its margin gay, with flocks and cattle spread; Embow'ring trees the peaceful village screen,

And guard from snow each dwelling's jutting shed Sweet vale, whose bosom wastes and cliffs surround, Let me awhile thy friendly shelter share! Emblem of life; where some bright hours are found Amid the darkest, dreariest years of care. Delved through the rock, the secret passage bende: And beauteous horror strikes the dazzled sight; Beneath the pendent bridge the stream descends, Calm-till it tumbles o'er the frowning height: We view the fearful pass-we wind along

The path that marks the terrors of our way; 'Midst beetling rocks, and hanging woods among,

The torrent pours, and breathes its glittering spray. Weary, at length serener scenes we hail,

More cultivated groves o'ershade the grassy meads; The neat, though wooden hamlets, deck the vale, And Altorf's spires recal heroic deeds. But though no more amid those scenes I roam, My fancy long each image shall retainThe flock returning to its welcome homeAnd the wild carol of the cowherd's strain. (d) Lucernia's lake its glassy surface shows, (e)

While nature's varied beauties deck its side; Here rocks and woods its narrow waves inclose,

And there its spreading bosom opens wide. And hail the chapel! hail the platform wild!

When Tell directed the avenging dart, (f) With well-strung arm, that first preserved his child, Then winged the arrow to the tyrants heart. Across the lake, deep embowered in wood, Behold another hallowed chapel stand, Where three Swiss heroes, lawless force withstood, And stamp'd the freedom of their native land;

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Their liberty required no rites uncouth,

No blood demanded, and no slaves enchain'd ;
Here rule was gentle, and her voice was truth,
By social order formed, by laws restrained.
We quit the lake-and cultivation's toil,

With nature's charms combin'd adorns the way;
And well-earned wealth improves the ready soil,
And simple manners still maintain their sway.(g)
Farewel, Helvetia! from whose lofty breast
Proud Alps arise, and copious rivers flow;
Where, source of streams, eternal glaciers rest, (h)
And peaceful science gilds the plains below.
Oft on thy rocks the wond'ring eye shall gaze,

Thy vallies oft the the raptur'd bosom seek;
There, nature's hand her boldest work displays,
Here, bliss domestic beams on ev'ry cheek.
Hope of my life ! dear children of my heart!

That anxious heart, to each fond feeling true, bard To you still pants each pleasure to impart,

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And more-oh transport!-reach its home and

EXPLANATORY NOTES.

(a)" To thee, a parent, sister, I consign,"

The Duchess left Lady Spencer, and Lady Besborough at the baths of Lucca, intending to pass the winter at Naples.

(h) "When, source of streams, eternal glaciers rest,"

The glaciers are formed probably of such an accumulation of ice, that the summer's sun only melts what is sufficient to supply the rivers, without diminishing the original stores which are there congealed. These, however, vary their forms, which are sometimes very beautiful, in waves, arches, pinnacles, &c. and the light of the sun gives them prismatic colours. The glacier of Grindelwald, in August, presents a wonderful phenomenon, the ice may be touched with one hand, while the other gathers strawberries that grow at its foot.

FALL OF THE GLACIER OF THE
WEISSHORN.

The village of Randa is situated about six leagues above Vispach, commonly known under the name of the Valley of St. Nicolas. The village is about 2,400 feet from the right bank of the Visp, on the steep declivity of a hill composed of fragments, the stony ground of which has been converted, by the industry of the inhabitants of Rauda, into pastures. Opposite to this hill is another of the same nature, above which you!are the rocks covered by the Glacier of Randa, the highest summit of which, called the Weisshorn, is elevated about 9000 feet above the village. The breadth of the valley at the height of the village (nearly 250 feet above the river) is about half a league. On the 27th of December, 1819, about six o'clock in the morning towards the eastern and very steep side of the highest summit of the Weisshorn, a part of the glacier became loose, fell with a noise like thunder on the mass of ice below, and announced, by the most dreadful crash, the ravages with which the valley was threatened. At the moment when the snow and ice struck on the lower mass of the glacier, the clergyman of the place, and some other persons, observed a strong light, which, however, immediately vanished, and every thing was again enveloped in the darkest night. A frightful hurricane, occasioned by the pressure of the air, instantly succeeded, and in a momentspread the most tremendous devastation. The fall of the glacier itself did not hurt the village, but the hurricane which it occasioned was so powerful, that it threw mill-stones several toises up the mountain; tore up by the roots distant larch trees of the largest size; threw blocks of ice four cubic feet over the village a distance of half a league: it tore off the top of the stone belfry; levelled several houses with the ground, and carried the timbers of others more than a quarter of a league beyond the village into

(b)" A granite girdle o'er the mountain thrown." Mr. Cox's editor (Mr. Raymond) calls it a granite riland thrown over the mountain. This wonderful work is a road of nearly 15 feet in breadth, paved with granite, and executed even through the most difficult part of the mountain; sometimes supended on the edge of a preeipice; sometimes pierced through the rocks, where no other passage offered; sometimes forming bold and light bridges, from rock to rock.

(c)" Here Adularia shines with vivid glow," No mountain is more rich in its mineral productions, at least with regard to beauty. The Adularia is a beautiful variety of the Feldt Spar, and is thus called after the ancient name of the mountain. The crystals of St. Gothard are very much celebrated; in it is also found the blue Shoerl or Seppar, and also a marble which has the singular quality of bending and being phosphoric; it is called Dolomite, from the name of its discoverer, Dolomieu.

(d)" And the wild carol of the cow-herd's strain." The circumstance alluded to, practised every evening by the cow-herds, in the mountains of Bern, and in all Swisserland. At evening, a flock of goats return to the village from their pasturage; immediately each goat goes to its peculiar cottage, the children of which come out to welcome and caress their little comrade. The Rans des Vaches, sung by the Swiss cow-herd, is a simple melody, intermixed with the cry which they use to call the cows together.

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(f) " When Tell directed the avenging dart,” The circumstance here alluded to, is almost engraven upon the mind of every one who reads; and would be here useless to introduce the narrative. A Chapel is built upon the very spot where Tell stood when he slew the tyrant Geissler, it is surrounded with picturesque wood, and the simple story of Tell, in the appropriate - dresses, is painted within the Chapel.

(g) “And simple manners still maintain their sway." The domestic society and simple gaiety of most parts of Swisserland exist in spite of the inroads of strangers; indeed it seems impossible not to seek rather to join in their happy amusements, than to wish to introduce the dissipation of other countries among then.

the forest.

Eight goats were whirled from a stable to a distance exceeding 100 toises; and it is remarkable that one of them was found alive. More than a quarter of a league above the valley, the barns opposite the glacier are seen stripped of their roofs. On the whole, nine houses in the village are totally destroyed, and the other thirteen more or less damaged; eighteen granaries, eight small dwellings, two mills, and seventy-two barns are destroyed, or irreparably injured. Of twelve persons who were buried in this catastrophe, teu are still living; one was taken out dead, and the twelfth has not yet been found. The avalanche, formed of a mixture of snow, ice, and stones, covers the fields and the pasturages situated below the villages for the length of at least 2400 feet, and extends in breadth about 1000 feet. The mass which has fallen measures on an average 150 feet in height. The damage is estimated at about 20,000 francs. It is remarkable, that some barns on the other side below the glacier, which were almost covered with the fragments, were thereby protected from the hurricane, and escaped uninjured; but what is much more extraordinary, is, that only two persons lost their lives, though some families were carried away with their houses, and buried under the ruins and drifted snow. The prompt assistance afforded by the clergyman, who did not suffer personally, and of the two sextons, who escaped, contributed to save several persons. It is not the first time that such a disaster has befallen the village of Randa. In 1656, it was destroyed by a similar avalanche, when thirty-six persons lost their lives. It is said, that at the time the whole glacier of the Weisshorn had fallen down. Two other less consideradle falls happened in 1736 and 1786, but not precisely in the same place.

There is a new method practised in Paris, of joining mirrors so perfectly as to make the seam, or line of junction, invisible. By this art mirrors may be extended to an immense size, at a trifling cost.

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How fresh the air! what fragrance from the ground Steams upwards as the cloudless orb of day Sinks to the west, and all the landscape round Basks in the splendour of his parting ray! This is thy magic pencil, AUTUMN; thine These deep'ning shadows, and that golden glow, Rich as the gems which, in some eastern mine, Athwart the gloom their mingled radiance throw. autumn has a tendency to revive the natural The general state of the weather toward the close spirits of those whose constitutions have been debilitated by the preceding heats. A great part of the day during the summer is too sultry for exercise; but, as autumn advances, the air becomes more temperate, and the evenings, particularly, are serene and pleasant.

of

The groves now lose their leafy honours; but, before they are entirely tarnished, an adventitious beauty, arising from that gradual decay which loosens the withering leaf, gilds the autumnal landscape with a temporary splendour, superior to the verdure of spring or the luxuriance of summer. See yon huge oaks, bathed in the amber flood;

See, through its brightness shines the mellow green, Telling how long those reverend forms have stood,

And what their strength and beauty once have been. They wreathe their roots, they fling their branches wide O'er yon smooth meadow, as in ages past: Assailed in vain, and shattered, they deride, Deep anchored still, the fury of the blast. Some are uninjured yet:-their leafy heads

Shelter the flocks, as they recline, or graze O'ercanopied, what time the Dog-star sheds

Full on the withered turf his fiercest blaze. Now to the dust, in ruins down they go,

Verdure above, but canker all beneath; As o'er some couch hangs poised th' uplifted blow, Where ebbing life contends in vain with death. Since these were acorns, since their course was run From youth to age, from vigour to decay, What deeds have in the busy world been done! What thrones have sunk, what empires passed away! Hips, haws, sloes, and blackberries, now adorn our bedges; and the berries of the barberry (berberis vulgaris), bryony (tamus communis), honeysuckle, elder, holly, woody-nightshade, and privet (ligustrum vulgare), afford a valuable supply of food for many of the feathered race, white passing their winter with us.

About the middle of the month, the common martin disappears; and, shortly afterwards, the smallest kind of swallow, the sand martin, migrates. The Royston or hooded crow (corvus cornix) arrives from Scotland and the northern parts of England, being driven thence by the severity of the season. The woodcock returns, and is found on our eastern

coasts,

Various kinds of waterfowl make their appearance; and, about the middle of the month, wild geese leave the fens, and go to the rye lands, to deYour the young corn. Rooks-sport and dive, in a playful manner, before they go to roost, cougregating in large numbers. Stares assemble in the fen countries, in vast multitudes, and, perching on the reeds, render them unfit for thatching, and thus materially injure the property of the farmer.

The appearance of the gossamer, in this and the preceding month, leads us to speak of its cause in those wonderful spiders which produce the gossamer webs, by the buoyancy of which, it is conceived, they are enabled to sail in the air, and to mount to prodigious elevations. These webs, which so frequently cover the surface of fallow and stubble fields, or form a delicate tracery upon our hedges, strung with the pearl-like drops of the morning dew, are most common in the autumn. In Germany, their appearance is so constant at this period, and so closely connected with the change of season, that they are popularly denominated by the expressive name, Der fliegender sommer,-the flying summer. The production of these webs was, with the naturalists of former times, a subject of strange speculation. Spenser alludes to the vulgar idea of their formation, when he speaks of "The fine nets which oft we woven see of scorched dew!" Robert Hooke, one of the earliest Fellows of the Royal Society, and an eminent philosopher, gravely conjectures respecting the gossamer, "'tis not unlikely but that those great white clouds, that appear all the summer time, may be of the same substance!" In France, where these webs are called Fils de la Vierge, it has been imagined that they are formed of the cottony envelope of the eggs of the vine coccus.

Lovers who may bestride the gossamer
That idles in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall

but spiders, who, long before Montgolfier, nay, ever
since the creation, have been in the habit of sailing
through the fields of ether in these air-light chariots!
This seems to have been suspected long ago by
Henry Moore, who says

The Drama.

TO THE EDITOR.

SIR-Some of the Liverpool critics having recently manifested a disposition wholly to under-rate, or entirely over-look, the merits of our highly respect. able corps dramatique, I trust, should no one better qualified for the task undertake to remove, at last in some measure, the effects of such injustice, you will permit me to enter the lists, as their champion; an inefficient one, perchance, but willing, if such should be the fortune of the fight, to fall in their defence.

As light and thin as cobwebs that do fly In the blew air, caused by the autumnal sun, That boils the dew that on the earth doth lie, May seem this whitish rug then is the scum; Unless that wiser men make't the field-spider's loom. Where he also alludes to the old opinion of scorched dew. But the first naturalists who made this disWhile a variety of writers, whose effusions I peruse covery appear to have been Dr. Hulse and Dr. with no inconsiderable degree of pleasure, are de Martin Lister; the former first observing that spi-voting all their forensic talents, either to the exaltaders shoot their webs into the air; and the latter, tion or degradation of one individual, relative to besides this, that they are carried upon them in that whom there exists a vast difference of opinion, it element. This last gentleman, in fine serene wea-has been matter of surprise to me, that none hare ther in September, had noticed these webs falling from the heavens, and in them discovered more than once a spider, which he named the bird. On another occasion, whilst he was watching the proceedings of a common spider, the animal suddenly....darted forth a long thread, and, vaulting from the place on which it stood, was carried upwards to a considerable height, Numerous observations afterwards confirmed this extraordinary fact; and he further discovered, that, while they fly in this manner, they pull in their long thread with their fore feet, so as to form it into a ball, or, as we may call it, air-balloou of flake. The height to which spiders will thus ascend he affirms is prodigious. One day in the autumn, when the air was full of webs, he mounted to the top of the highest steeple of York Minster, from whence he could discern the floating webs still very bigh above him. Some spiders that fell and were entangled upon the pinnacles he took. They were of a kind that never enter houses, and therefore could not be supposed to have taken their flight from the steeple.” There are several questions connected with the formation of gossamer, which still remain open for the researches of naturalists. Whether the terrestrial and aerial gossamer be formed by the same animal, though highly probable, is yet undecided. The purpose for which these nets are spread over the surface of the fields, is not less a matter of doubt. The present writers adopt the opinion that the meshes are intended as bridges, by which the little animal may pass with facility from straw to straw, or from clod to clod; and that they also serve to collect the dew, which spiders drink with avidity. We think that they have too easily doubted that they are chiefly designed to catch the flies when they rise in the morning from the surface of the earth. What, again, is the purpose of the lofty excursions of spiders into the upper regions of the atmosphere? It appears scarcely rational to doubt that these are predatory voyages, and that spiders sail among the clouds of gnats, and the swarins of flies, which sport in the more elevated strata, the exuvia of these animals being frequently found in these filmy balloons, when descending to the ground.

TO THE INSECT OF THE GOSSAMER.

Small, viewless aeronaut, that by the line
Float'st on a sun-beam-Living atom, where
Of Gossamer suspended, in mid air
Ends thy breeze-guided voyage? With what design
In æther dost thou launch thy form minute,
Mocking the eye? Alas! before the veil
Of denser clouds shall hide thee, the pursuit
Of the keen Swift may end thy fairy sail!
Thus on the golden thread that Fancy weaves
Buoyant, as Hope's illusive flattery breathes,
The young and visionary Poet leaves
Life's dull realities, while sevenfold wreaths

yet appeared to vindicate the injured party; for such I consider those, who, occupying less protal nent situations in the business of a play, though often by no means less praise-worthy on that ac count, are either assailed by the supercilious grin ef malignant scorn, or, what is sometimes nearly as bad, passed over with silent contempt. Thus a co temporary print, not much celebrated for veracity it is true, after hespattering with fulsome panegy. ric the resplendent Star, that recently illuminated our theatrical hemisphere, unblushingly, declares, that " with regard to the other actors who appeared in this tragedy we have little to say, and that little is not to their advantage." This knowing scribe might, surely, for once, have condescended to speak the truth; had he done so, I positively aver, that however "little" he had said, "it would have bees to their advantage.” Oh, oh! says he, "but Virginite, like another Atlas, sustained the whole weight of the piece, in a manner that not only did honour to his talents, but contributed in the highest degree, to the gratification of his audience." Tudeed! Pray Mr. Courier, what other character is there in the whole play calculated" to do honour to the talen of its representative? Now, only suppose "the other actors who appeared in this tragedy," in re venge for the contemptible parts assigned them, had thought proper to damn " the piece," and thereby have rendered the exertions of your mighty "Atlas" of none effect? What think you, O worthy Courier would then become of him? With all his repeted ability, without their strenuous co-operation would have cut but a sorry figure. Without cent derable assistance from them, he could have det, comparatively, nothing; and had they withheld the aid which he required, neither the audience nor the author could justly have blamed them. With all this power at their disposal, they generously refused to exercise one iota of it; and yet we are i re impudently told, that to speak of them, even a "little," would "not be to their advantage!" "Why? Because, forsooth, they contributed greatly to the success of both Virginius and his author. I contend, therefore, that, to a certain extent, they were equally as desert. ing of praise as the sapient Courier's Magnus Apollo. If he questions the truth of my assertion, let him ask his "accomplished" friend, in what provincial theatre he ever played with a more respectable Appius Claudius than Mr. Younge-a more creditable Nunictorius than Mr. M'Gibbon-a better Dentofus than Mr. Andrews-an Icilius preferable to Mr. Bass-a finer Caius Claudius than Mr. Mercer, or a Virginia equal to Mrs. M'Gibbon? Let Mr. Macready be thus interrogated, and I am satisfied his answer will be "to their advantage."-As a general actress, Mrs. M'Gibbon has now no superior; and there are some particular characters, in which she is unequalled. Her conceptions are mostly remark. fault is more attributable to nature than to herself. She possesses the felicitous art of converting an indifferent part into a good one, or at least of turning

Messrs. Kirby and Spense, in whose work on Of "Entomology" these opinions are enumerated, give of rainbow light around his head revolvercams dissolve.

the following natural account of this phenomenon. "These webs (at least many of them) are air-balloons, and the aeronauts are not

(To be concluded in our next.)

C. Smith.

to the best possible account, and on this score our | odern authors especially are much indebted to her : ith her, a good character seldom suffers any loss, da bad que invariably acquires celebrity. I have But lately enjoyed the pleasure of seeing her in the higher walks of tragedy, but have been considerably gratified with her Virginia and Desdamona, in the righ lower. The chaste and elegant simplicity of her attire, added to her prepossessing appearance aud remo parity of acting, rendered ber a very interesting Roman dame, and a most fascinating Venetian lady; teach excited alike our admiration and our pity. The eyes which for a short time sparkled with heart. felt delight, were soon moistened with the genuine tears of unaffected sympathy.

da

Actuated by no other motive than an ardent desire to promote the welfare of the theatre, I have taken

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SIR, The great celebrity of Mr. Kean at

Though the features were much collapsed, the face was no where divested of skin. The skin itself was of a chesnut-brown colour. The brow was well-shaped, though, if any way defective, narrow; and to some it may be interesting to learn, the organ of Music was prominent. The nose, though slightly compressed, retained enough of its original shape to be recognised as Roman. The cheek bones were prominent. The mouth, most likely from the shrinking of the muscles attached to it, was wider than accorded with the general good proportion of the face. The space between the nose and the chin, especially between the nose and mouth, was also proportionally too distant. Independent, however, of these exceptions, the face was decidedly handsome. There appeared upon the chin, not the slightest vestige of hair, but that upon the eyebrows was distinct and finely arched. Upon the scalp there was a profusion of silky golden hair, about two and a half inches in length. A small portion of the scalp acciness of recent bone. Having separated the lips about

leave to revert the order complained of above; and, tracted me to the Theatre on Monday evening,dentally removed, showed the skull with all the fresh

One circumstance must have struck all who had an

instead of adopting Mr. Macready for the burden and I must confess the superior talents evinced by the eighth part of an inch, the fore teeth could be seen, and sum-total of my observations, to the exclusion of every one else, have selected others, and almost im, although his performance in many parts of remarkably white, and regularly shaped. fended me, might have caused me to overlook the excluded Mr. Macready; who, though not a great, imperfections of the other actors; yet the blunders of opportunity of seeing the above interesting examination; certainly a good actor. Such au arrangement Mr. Bass, who played Welborn were so palpable that namely, the dissimilarity of the features to what we are may not perhaps be palatable either to himself or his friends, but of that I care not a rush: for if it if your correspondents are all silent upon the subject, taught to believe were those of the inhabitants of Egypt, I hope you will yourself point out to him how very existed in that country. A moment's reflection will sutat the remote period at which the custom of embalming lae just to put on record his excellencies, it is reprehensible such conduct appears in the eyes office to convince us, that this circumstance can in no way equally so to register with them those of his fellow-those who go to the play, expecting to hear the lan-throw discredit on the antiquity or genuine character of guage of some favourite author, and not that of an the Mummy. It is sufficiently well known that at all idle or assuming performer.

labourers.

Lerpool, Sept. 25, 1820.

Yours, truly,
DRAMATICUS.

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TO THE EDITOR.

Mr. Tayleure last night, in the first soliloquy of Launcelot Gobbo addressed himself altogether to the audience, which is most unpardonable. There is no practice more common than this amongst vulgar actors, and none which should be more discountenanced. I wish our performers would copy the Sin-So deeply am I impressed with a convic-example set them by Mr. Kean in this respect.-I on of the folly of disputing upon matters of taste, am, Sir, t when I formed the determination of sending On occasional notices of our theatrical amusements, determined also never to engage in controversy especting them. To this resolution I have hitherto thered, and from it I do not feel in the least dissed to recede.

Your humble servant,

Friday, September 29, 1820.

T. K.

The following article is transferred to the Kaleidoscope
from the Mercury, at the most earnest request of a
valuable correspondent.

EGYPTIAN MUMMY.

times the conqueror has adopted, in a greater or more partial degree, the customs of the conquered. We should therefore naturally expect that the Grecian settlers whom Alexander left in different parts of Egypt, after its conquest, would imitate the habits of the Egyp tians in this and other respects; or we have, perhaps, a more direct solution of the difficulty (if so it can be considered) by supposing, what would in many instances take place, the intermarriage of an Egyptian with the daughter of a Greek.

Mr. Millar, portrait painter in this town, is at present finishing a likeness in oil, of the face and surrounding parts, as they appeared immediately after they wer exposed; and was completely successful in the accuracy of the likeness before the exposure to the air had converted the face from a brown to a sable hue, which it did in the short period of three hours.-Glasgow Herald.

THE LIBRARY.

There was once in a certain part of India such a voluminous library, that a thousand camels were requi site for its transport, and a hundred Bramins had to be paid for the care.

The King felt no inclination to wade through all this heap of learning himself, and ordered his well-fed librarians to furnish him with an extract for his private use. They set to work, and in about twenty years time they produced a nice little Encyclopædia, which might have been very easily carried by thirty camels. But the monarch found it still too large, and had not even patience enough to read the preface. The indefatigable Bramins began therefore afresh, and reduced the thirty cargoes into so small a substance, that a single ass marched away with it it in comfort: but the kingly vants wrote at last on a palm leaf

My present object is not to dispute with you on r respective estimates of the merits of an actor, ut to offer an explanation to your readers, which is alled for by the notice you have taken of my two ast communications. To do this it is necessary to State, that when I sat down to pen my first notice of Mr. Macready, I intended to record in in your ages, the prominent beauties and defects of his The Hunterian Museum at Glasgow has just been enFirginius. Before I compleated my task, I had riched by the acquisition of an Egyptian Mummy, the ransgressed the limits you proscribe for communi- donation of Mr. Joshua Heywood, jun. of this city; ations of this kind. I therefore, after giving a which, from its high state of preservation, may be coneneral opinion of his merits, and quoting a few sidered as the most interesting addition, in the antiquasages of peculiar beauty, in his performance, rian department, made to that very valuable collection dferred until your next, to notice the faults by since it became the property of the University. The which it was disfigured. In the mean time, certain body, shrouded in from fifty to sixty folds of rather coarse pale brick-red coloured linen, is deposited in a considerations induced me still further to delay this strong wooden coffin, fashioned so as to bear a rude reunpleasant part of the duty I had imposed on my semblance to the human shape. At the upper extremity self, which considerations I stated to you in a letter is carved a face, the features of which (as is the case containing a few further general remarks on Mr. with all Egyptian sculpture) are very much of the Macready, I requested that if those remarks were Negro cast. The coffin, along the entire length of its objectionable, you would not print them, but to pub-outside, is richly ornamented with a profusion of hiero-dislike for reading had increased with age, and his serlish only the last paragraph, containing my reasons glyphical characters, of various colours, all in a state of for postponing the conclusion of my observations on the most perfect preservation. Mr. Macready's Virginius. Now, Sir, after receiv-inclosed in a second, similarly shaped, but more spaThe case inmediately containing the body is again lag such an intimation, was it liberal or correct in ringly ornamented, and exhibiting a greater appearance you to give the objectionable part of that communi- of antiquity. cation to the public, and to suppress the only part about which I was in the least anxious? Does such Conduct shew a proper feeling of respect for your Correspondents? Or does it form any part of your editorial duty, thus to give publicity to a communiA dervise had entreated the favourite of a Sultan for cation, which, if it met with your disapprobation, A longitudinal incision was made through the cover-charity; but the haughty courtier threw a stone at him. you were requested to suppress? I must be pernitted to add, that however far I may be from callings immediately over the face, which were evidently This the dervise preserved, resolving to hit the man in continuous folds of the same web. Those in immediate his turn, whenever an opportunity should occur; ing in question your right of commenting on any contact with the skin were soaked in liquid asphaltum, learning soen after that the vizier had been disgraced, article, you insert in your miscellany, I may never-substance of highly antiseptic power, and said to have and would be dragged through the streets, the derthe less doubt its necessity, after you have distinctly been employed by the Egyptians in embalming. The vise immediately fetched his stone, and threw it-in a disavowed any identity with the opinions of your head was completely denuded of these coverings, showing well; saying, at the same time, "None but a fool would respondents. a face, apparently female, in an astonishing state of revenge himself on a powerful enemy, and none but a rascal on a fallen one.' Having thus freely remonstrated with you, I preservation.

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It was on perusing the manuscript from whence this is taken, that a young lady presented me with the following verses, which, though not strictly to the point, it is hoped contain nothing unbecoming female sensibility.

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To Correspondents.

The lines of HENRICUS, addressed to the YOUNG BACHELOR, were given into the hands of the prin ters, when we discovered that there was a point or two upon which it was desirable to consult the writer, who is requested to revise that part of his composition where the following lines occur,

"When love is o'erwhelmed with distresses,

They flow from our folly alone;
But of all the joys he possesses,

Are tender delights of his own."

The two latter lines are unconnected and not very in
telligible; one of them is also imperfect in measure
-The two concluding lines of the piece contain a
bull, if we mistake not. At all events, is not rather
odd to require a lady to love in return, when she i
not aware that the swain loves her, in the first i
stance? and yet such is the import of the lines to
which we allude, and which shall speak for them-
selves, to wit:

"Ere they love, proper care should be TAKEN,
That somebody love in RETURN."
These little anomalies excepted, the verses possess
some merit; and when the author has re-considered
them, we shall be glad to hear further from him.

G. N. shall not have to complain this week of the sup
pression of any part of his letter, although we are
this instance the subject of his criticism. Not having
the MS. of the former communication to which he
alludes, before us, we are at a loss to comprehend the
full extent of our editorial crime. We shall, bor
ever, examine it, and if we have been even uninten
tionally guilty of any violation of propriety, or in-
partiality, we shall not hesitate to make our confession
Feeling unconscious, however, of any such offence
we must suspend the period of our humiliation. We
frequently suppress or abridge some portion of the
communications of correspondents who rank rather
high in the literary and political world; and w
maintain our right so to do, provided the sense or
consistency of the composition is not thereby compro
mised. If G. N's critique has suffered on this store,
it was an oversight on our parts; but we must, as we
before observed, consult the original before we shall
concede that point. As for the privilege of an a
to comment freely upon the reasoning or taste of sty
of his correspondents; it is so clearly within
province, that it needs no vindication. Perhaps
we may be falling again into error, in alluding
to any thing stated in the postscript to G. X.
letter, as the writer may turn short upon us at
week, and say that such postscript was confidential
We shall venture however to ask G. N. how could
he take upon himself to say, that we prefer M
Macready to Mr. Kean? We know that we n
said any such thing ourselves either to him or toy
one else.

We feel particularly obliged to some unknown friend for the loan of the splendid edition of the poem LEONORA, which shall have a place in our colum when previous engagements with other correspondents will admit. In the mean time, the greatest care shall be taken of the original.

A person who styles himself A SUBSCRIBER, 29 Sep writes in so impertinent a style, that we shall make no other reply, than that it is a matter of total indifference to us, how soon he carry his threat into execution. We will thank an unknown friend to inform us who is the author of the Essay on Laughter, with which he has favoured us.

We have further to make our acknowledgments to B -CYRUS,-A. L-FLEUR DE LYS,-W. T READER, B.-Lines to a Rose, by K.-The Scrap of a Tour,-E. J. Potteries.

Printed, published, and sold

BY EGERTON SMITH AND CO.

Sold also by John Bywater and Co. Pool-lane; Mers
Liverpool Mercury Office.
Evans, Chegwin and Hall, Castle-street; Mr. Thos
Smith, Paradise-street; Mr. Warbrick, Public
Library, Lime-street; Mr. G. P. Day, Newsman.
Dale-street; Mr. Lamb, Hanover-street; and Mr.
John Smith, St. James's-road, for ready money only

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