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This parchment,' answered Ruthven, in the me tone of inflexible gravity, and unfolding the Instrument as he spoke,' is one by which your Grace stitutes your nearest in blood, and the most hoBourable and trust-worthy of your subjects, James, Earl of Murray, Regent of the Kingdom during the thermoority of the young King. He already holds the fare appointment from the Secret Council.'

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The Queen gave a sort of shriek, and clapping The ber hands together, exclaimed, Comes the arrow out of his quiver?-out of my brother's bow? Alas! I looked for his return from France as my sole, at least my readiest chance of deliverance. And yet, ➡hen I heard that he had assumed the government, drep 1 guessed be would shame to wield it in my name.' **I must pray your answer, madam,' said Lord sary » Ruthven, to the demand of the Council.*

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"The demand of the Council said the Queen; sty rather the demand of a set of robbers, impatient to divide the spoil they have seized. To such a desud, and sent by the mouth of a traitor, whose prescalp, but for my womanish mercy, should long since e at have stood on the city gates, Mary of Scotland has

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No answer.'

The Queen ultimately decides, and signs the documeuts.

"Thou knowest, my friend,' says the unhappy Queen herself, whether to make those who have served me happy, was not ever Mary's favourite maxim. When I have been rebuked by the stern preachers of the Calvauist heresy; when I have seen the fierce countenances of my nobles averted from me, has it not been because I mixed in the pleasures of the young and gay, and rather for the sake of their own happiness than my own, have mingled in the masque, the song, or the dance, with the youth of my household. Well, I repent uot of it; though Knox termed it sin; and Mortou, degradation. I was happy, because I saw happiness around me; and woe betide the wretched jealousy that can extract guilt out of the overflowings of an unguarded gaiety!"'

"

The Naturalist's Diary,

For SEPTEMBER, 1820.

(Concluded from Number 10.)

Various of the feathered tribe now commence

"My Lords,' said Mary, with inexpressible grace aud dignity, the evils we cannot resist we must submit to; I will subscribe these parchments with such liberty of choice as my condition permits me. Were I on yonder shore, with a fleet jennet and ten good and loyal knights around me, I would subscribe my sentence of eternal condemnation, as soon as the resignation of my throne. But here, in the castle of Lochleven, with deep water around me, and you, my Lords, beside me. I have no freedom of choice. Give me the pen, Melville, and bear witness to what I do, and why I do it.' ́ ́ ́ ́ It is our hope your Grace will not suppose yourself compel led, by any apprehensious from us,' said the Lord Ruthven, to execute what must be your own voluntary deed.' The Queen had already stooped towards the table, and placed the parchment before her, with the pen between her fingers, ready for the important act of signature. But when Lord Ruthven had done speaking, she looked up, stopped short, and threw down the pen. If,' said she, I am ex pected to declare 1 give away my crown of free-will, **I trust, madam,' said Lord Ruthven, my or otherwise than because I am compelled to reHerrings (clupéa) pay their annual visit to Eugbeing unacceptable to your presence will not add to nounce it by the threat of worse evils to myself and land in this month, and afford a rich harvest to the your obduracy of resolution. It may become you my subjects. I will not put my name to such an inhabitants of its eastern and western coasts. Exclu492 to remember that the death of the minion, Rizzio, untruth; not to gain full possession of England, sive of the various methods of preparing this fish out the house of Ruthven its head and leader. My France, and Scotland, all once my own, in possession for sale, in different countries, ap immense quantity father, more worthy than a whole province of such or by right.' of oil is drawn from it, forming a great and importvile vycophants, died in exile, and broken-hearted.' "Beware, madam,' said Lindesay; and snatch-ant commercial article among the northern nations. "The Queen clasped her hands on her face, and ing hold of the Queen's arm with his own gauntleted reating her arms on the table, stooped down her head hand, he pressed it, in the rudeness of his passion, and wept so bitterly that the tears were seen to find how you contend with those who are the stronger, more closely than he was himself aware of; 'beware their way in streams between the white and slender and have the mastery of your fate. He held his Sagers with which she endeavoured to conceal them. grasp on her arm, bending his eyes on her with a "My Lords,' said Sir Robert Melville, this is stern and intimidating look, till both Ruthven and 100 moch rigour. Under your Lordships' favour, Melville cried shame; and Douglas, who had hitherto we come hither, not to revive old griefs, but to find remained in a state of apparent apathy, had made a the mode of avoiding new ones.' 'Sir Robert Mel-stride from the door, as if to interfere. The rude vile,' said Ruthven, we best know for what purpose Baron then quitted his hold, disguising the confu we were delegated hither, and wherefore you were sion which he really felt at having indulged his pas somewhat unnecessarily sent to attend us.'Nay, sion to such an extent, under a sullen and contempt. by my band,' said Lord Lindesay, 'I know not whyuous smile. The Queen immediately began, with we were cumbered with the good knight, unless he an expression of pain, to bare the arm which he had somes in place of the lump of sugar which pothicars grasped, by drawing up the sleeve of her gown, and pat into their wholesome but bitter medicaments, to it appeared that his grasp had left the purple marks please a foward child; a needless labour, methinks, of his iron fingers upon her flesh. My lord,' she where men have the means to make them swallow said, as a knight and a gentleman, you might have the physic otherwise.' Nay, my Lords,' said Mel- spared my frail arm so severe a proof that you have wille, 'ye best know your own secret instructions. the greater strength on your side, and are resolved I cogfeive I shall best obey mine in striving to me. to use it. But I thank you for it; it is the most diate between her Grace and you. Be silent, Sir decisive token of the terms on which this day's busiRobert Melville,' said the Queen, arising, and her ness is to rest. I desire you to witness, both lords face still glowing with agitation as she spoke. My aud ladies,' she said, showing the marks of the grasp kerchief, Fleming; I shame that traitors should on her arm, that I subscribe these instruments in bare power to move me thus. Tell me, proud obedience to the sign manual of my Lord of LindeLords,' she added, wiping away the tears as she say, which you may see imprinted on mine arm.'” spoke, by what earthly warrant can liege subjects pretend to challenge the rights of au anointed Soveseiga; to throw off the allegiance they have vowed, and to take away the crown from the head on which Divine warrant bath placed it ?'

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Lady Mary Fleming says, "I trust it is impossible that we can, any of us, or in any circumstances, forget, that few as we are, we form the household of the Queen of Scotland; and that, in her calamity, all boyish mirth and childish jesting can only serve to give a great triumph to her enemies, who have already found their account in objecting to her the lightness of every idle folly, that the young and gay

Roland exclaims, " But, for betraying this unhappy Queen, God knows I am guiltless of the thought. Did I believe worse of her, than as her servant 1 wish; as her subject I dare to do; I would not be tray her: far from it. I would aid her in aught which could tend to a fair trial of her cause."

Madam,' said Ruthven, I will deal plainly with you. Your reign, from the dismal field of Piskiecleugh, when you were a babe in the cradle, fill now, that ye stand a grown dame before us, hath been such a tragedy of losses, disasters, civil dis-practised in her court." Fasions, and foreign wars, that the like is not to be add in our chronicles. The French and English Bare, of one consent, made Scotland the battle-field which 10, fight out their own ancient quarrel or ourselves, every man's hand hath been against brother, nor hath a year passed over without bellion and slaughter, exile of nobles, and oppressog of the commons. We may endure it no longer, nd, therefore, as a prince, to whom God hath reused the gift of hearkening to wise counsel, and whose dealing no blessing hath ever descended, te prav you to give way to other rule and governace of the land, that a remuant may yet be saved to this distracted realm.'"

Again: "This poor Queen,' says Roland, I know she is unhappy; but, Catherine, do you hold her innocent? She is accused of murder." Do I hold the lamb guilty, beacause it is assailed by the wolf? answered Catherine: do I hold yonder sun poiluited, because an earth-damp sullies his beams" "

their autumnal music; among these, the thrush, the
The phalana rassula and the saffron butterfly (pa-
blackbird, and the woodlark, are now conspicuous.
pilio hyale) appear in this month,
Flies (museo)
abound in our windows.

THE CAPTIVE FLY.

Seduced by idle change and luxury.
See in vain struggles the expiring fly,
He perishes! for lo, in evil hour,

He rushed to taste of yonder garish flower,
Which in young beauty's loveliest colours drest,
Conceals destruction in her treacherous breast,
While round the roseate chalice odours breathe,
And lure the wanderer to voluptuous death.
Ill-fated vagrant! did no instinct cry,
Shun the sweet mischief?-No experienced fly
Bid thee of this fair smiling fiend beware,
And say, the false Apocynum is there?
Ah, wherefore quit for this Circean draught
The bean's ambrosial flower, with incense fraught;
Or where, with promise rich, Fragraria spreads
Her spangling blossoms on her leafy beds?
Could thy wild flight no softer blooms detain ?
And towered the Lilac's purple groups in vain?
Or waving showers of golden blossoms, where
Laburnum's pensile tassels float in air,
When thou within those topaz keels might creep
Secure, and rocked by lulling winds to sleep?
But now no more for thee shall June unclose
Her spiey clove-pink, and her damask rose ;
Not for thy food shall swell the downy peach,
Nor raspberries blush beneath th' embowering beech.
In efforts vain thy fragile wings are torn,
Sharp with distress resounds thy small shrill horn ;
While thy gay happy comrades hear thy cry,
Yet heed thee not, and careless frolic by.
Till thou, sad victim! every struggle o'er,
Despairing sink, and feel thy fate no more.

C. Sueith. Rural scenery is now much enlivened by the variety of colours, some lively and beautiful, which are assumed, towards the end of the month, by the fading leaves of trees and shrubs. These appearances are very striking even in our own fine forests, but cannot be compared with the magnificent scenes presented to the eye of the enraptured traveller in the primeval woods which shade the equinoctial regions of Africa and America,

The autumnal equinox happens on the 22d of September, and, at this time, the days and nights are equal all over the earth. About this period, beavy storms of wind and rain are experienced, as well as in the vernal equinox,

As many of our readers will, probably, pass the month of September on the coast, we shall here introduce some reflections upon that most inagnificent of all objects" THE SEA."

With wonder mark the moving wilderness of waves,
From pole to pole through boundless space diffused,
Magnificently dreadful! where, at large,
Leviathan, with each inferior name

Of sea-born kinds, ten thousand thousand tribes,
Finds endless range for pasture and for sport.
Adoring own

The Hand Almighty, who its channelled bed
Immeasureable sunk, and poured abroad,
Fenced with eternal mounds, the fluid sphere;
With every wind to waft large commerce on,
Join pole to the pole, conscociate severed worlds,
And link in bonds of intercourse and love
Earth's universal family.

Mallet.

|lating the wisdom of ages, in commanding the earth, | we were talking upon the subject, we were suddenly wr
there is nothing so great nor so terrible. What a rounded by a swarm of bees, so thick that our carriage
poor contemptible being is the naked savage, stand- horses, coachman, my wife, and myself, were com
ing on the beach of the ocean, and trembling at its pletely covered. The furious insects attached themselv
tumults! How incapable is he of converting its ter- horse; the two animals seemed to be deprived of every
immediately to the nose, mouth, eyes, and ears of each
rors into benefits; or of saying, Behold an element sense, and, as if overcome with stupor, they lay down,
made solely for my enjoyment!-He considers it as and stretched themselves out, an unresisting prey to the
an angry deity, and pays it the homage of submis- bees.
sion. But it is very different when he has exercised
his mental powers; when he has learned to find his
own superiority, and to make it subservient to his
commands. It is then that his dignity begins to
appear, and that the True Deity is adored, for hav.
ing been mindful of man; for having given him
the earth for his habitation, and the sea for his

inheritance.

"As soon as we perceived this cloud of insect lessen around us, my wife threw over her hat the hd of her night cloak, got out of the carriage, went badk a little way on the road, and instinctively fled into da ditch, where she lay down with her face to the earth. I exerted myself in the meantime in endeavouring get over this disaster; I went also out of the carrage, and covering my face and neck with my handkerchief, I re-ascended the carriage, and with all my strength had all the while calmly observed my situation; ba neither by the offer of reward, nor by the most urgent entreaty, could I prevail upon them to render y assistance; they turned their backs upon us, and parad their way to the village. In this unhappy plight I'ralis on for half an hour, when I met the road-keeper, sans Daniel Arndt, and a carrier, named David Hery, companied by some labourers, and driving a car wi three horses. Still tormented by the bees, and passed by them with inconceivable bitterness, I breathed at last, and was relieved by this rencontre, as these good people had lighted tobacco pipes, and the smoke dipersed my disagreeable guests.

Some pertinent reflections on this subject we sub-cried out for help. Three peasants, a short distance of If we look upon a map of the world, we shall find join from M. Savary's entertaining Letters on Greece. that the ocean occupies a considerably greater sur- "We enjoy the finest weather imaginable; not a face of the globe than the land is found to do. This cloud obscures the sky, and a south-east wind wafts immense body of waters is diffused round both the us directly toward the port to which our wishes tend. old and new continent to the south, and may sur-We have now entirely lost sight of land, and, as far round them also to the north, for what we know; as the eye can reach, only view the immense abyss but the ice in those latter regions has stopped our of the waters, aud the vast expanse of the heavens. inquiries. Although the ocean, properly speaking, How awful is this sight! How does it inspire the is but one extensive sheet of water, continued over mind with great ideas! How adventrous is man, every part of the globe, without interruption, and who trusts his fortune and his life to this frail vessel although no part of it is divided from the rest, yet he has built, which a worm may pierce, or a single | geographers have distinguished it by different names; blast dash to pieces against a 10ck! Yet in this he as the Atlautic or Western Ocean, the Northern, braves the fury of the ocean! But how admirable is Southern, Pacific, Indian, and German Oceans. his ingenuity! He commands the winds, enchains In this vast receptacle, almost all the rivers of the them in the canvas, and forces them to conduct him earth ultimately terminate. And yet these vast and where he pleases. He sails from one end of the inexhaustible supplies do not seem to increase its world to the other, and traverses the immense liquid stores; for it is neither apparently swollen by their plains, without any signals to direct him. He reads tribute, nor diminished by their failure, it continues his course in the heaveus. A needle, which wonder constantly the same. Indeed the quantity of water fully points perpetually to the pole, and the obserof all the rivers and lakes in the world is nothing|vation of the stars, inform him where he is. A few compared to that contained in this prodigious reser-lines and points mark out to him the islands, coasts, voir. And some natural philosophers have carried their ideas on this subject so far, as to assert, in cousequence of certain calculations, that if the bed of the sea were empty, all the rivers of the world flow ing into it with a continuance of the present stores, would take up at least 800 years to fill it again to its present height.

Thus great is the assemblage of waters diffused round our habitable globe; and yet, immeasurable as it seems, it is rendered subservient principally to the necessities and conveniences of so little a being as man. Some have perceived so much analogy to man in the formation of the ocean, that they have not hesitated to assert it was made for him alone. This has been denied by others; and a variety of arguments have been adduced on both sides, in which we do not think it necessary to enter here: for of this we are certain, that the great Creator has eadowed us with abilities to turn this great extent of waters to our own advantage. He has made these things, perhaps, for other uses; but he has given us faculties to convert them to our own. This muchagitated question, therefore, seems to terminate here: we shall never know whether the things of this world were made for our use; but we very well know that we were made to enjoy them. Let us then boldly affirm, that the earth and all its wonders are ours, since we are furnished with powers to force them into our service. Man is the lord of the whole sublunary creation; the howling savage, the winding serpent, with all the uutameable and rebellious offspring of nature, are destroyed in the contest, or driven at a distance from his habitations. The extensive and tempestuous ocean, instead of dividing or limiting his power, only serves to assist his industry, and enlarge the sphere of his enjoyments. Its billows, and its monsters, instead of presenting a sceue of terror, serve only to excite and invigorate the courage of this intrepid little being; and the greatest danger that man now fears from the deep, is from his fellow-creatures. Indeed, if we consider the human race as nature has formed them, very little of the habitable globe seems to be made for them. But when they are considered as accumu

and shoals, which his skill enables him to approach
or avoid at pleasure. Yet has he cause to tremble,
notwithstanding all his science and all his genius!
The fire of the clouds is kindling over his head,
and may consume his dwelling. Unfathomable
gulfs are yawning beneath his feet, and he is sepa
rated from them only by a single plank. His con-
fidence might make us imagine he knew himself
immortal, yet he must die-die, uever to revive
again, except in another state of being."

The carrier being informed of the danger, in orde not to expose himself to it, would not stir one pace further and, as the bees began to surround us on all sides, br the road, and took a by-way, in order to place unharnessed his team, left his cart laden with goods horses under shelter in the village. Soon after the othe people accompanied me to where my horses were, and they brought with them an abundance of hay and straw. There we found my unfortunate coachman stretched in the ditch, his head and hands all covered with bees, # that the road-keeper was obliged to use a brush to get them off his face; his hair was matted with blood, a as the insects could not be extricated, they were crushed to the straw, and succeeded in driving away the bes to death. Whilst this operation was going on we set t

"As soon as the carrier had placed his horses in safety, he came back to us, having fortified himself in every way against the bees, and showed himself anxiou give all the assistance in his power to my horses. Bat one of them was so severely injured that he died the same day. The other was conducted to Schmogelsient; but though the veterinary surgeon exhausted all ha skill, the animal perished in 24 hours after.

"My coachman had brought his misfortunes himself, because, in endeavouring to succour the hors he had lost his hat. The bees fastened on his tak head, and deprived him of his senses, and for 48 h he remained in a state of suffering that threatenda terminate in his death. We were supplied with horses, and had him conveyed to Truenbrietzen, where he covered. He had at first cried out so vehemently for assistance, that the bees got into his mouth and throat I myself passed 24 hours in extreme pain at the same place, and was compelled to apply several poultices my head, neck, and ears, to appease the inflammation My wife, who, as if by inspiration, threw herself down into the ditch, came out again perfectly safe; and in a few days after, the coachman and I were at length entirely recovered.

When o'er the surface of the dark-green seas
With gentlest motion steals the rippling breeze,
While pleasing tremors agitate my mind.
The Muse I shun, to placid ease inclined.
But when the whitening surge like thunder roars,
And the curled wave aloft impetuous soars,
I flee the terrors of the troubled main,
And turn my eyes to fields and woods again.
Safe o'er the land I then delight to rove,
And seek the shelter of the shadowy grove;
Where the full gust a constant murmur keeps,
And thro' the pine's close foliage whistling sweeps.
Evil and toilsome is the fisher's lot,
The luckless tenant of a fragile boat;
Doomed o'er the deep to take his dangerous way,
And oft, in vain, pursue his finny prey.
Mine be the fate to sink in calm repose,
Where a deep shade the broad-leaved plane-tree throws; place, I now believe it was not a horse.fly that stung the

Near may a murm'ring fount my senses charm,
With sound too soft the rustic's breast t'alarm.

ATTACK BY BEES.

Moschus.

Some days ago the following singular narrative ap peared in the Berlin Gazette. It was furnished to that paper by M. Eulert, a merchant of that city, who was himself the party principally concerned:

"I was travelling," says M. Eulert, " on the 20th of July, at seven o'clock in the morning, in my car rage acto Berlin, betwen kroppstadt and the town of riage, accompanied by my wife. On my way from WirSchmogelsdorf, which is contiguous to the high road, I observed one of my horses rub himself with uneasi: ness against the other. I remarked to my wife that the animal, no doubt, was stung by a horse-fly. Whilst

66

"I attribute this accident to two causes. In the first

horse, as I at first supposed; but rather the queen-bee which must have been killed when the animal rubbed against his companion. I conjecture this to have been the case, from the natural history of these insects; it is very common to see a swarm of bees, when deprived of their leading queen, unite with other swarms, and fa with a species of madness upon the first objects they en counter.

"In the next place I attribute the circumstance to the fact, that contrary to the express prohibition of the magistrates, the commune of Schmogelsdorf, besides its proper number of 900 hives, takes in an equal nu ber from the neighbouring communes to tend during gardens which it contains, present a singularly rich pas the time of swarming, because the flowers, fields, and curage for such insects. Hence it happens that small space nearly 2000 hives are crowded together, that in the season of swarming it is dangerous to pas that way."

The Drama.

VIRGINIUS AND MR. MACREADY.

TO THE EDITOR.

It is as an acting drama we must consider its excel...lence. Viewed in that light, those defects appear less unglaring, and are in fact absorbed by the vivid interest

is couched, except it be the tone of plaintive ectasy in
which Mr. Macready gives it utterance.

Rugby may justly be proud of her son, who hath im. bibed from her bosom that polished taste and sound judgment, which are as it were the ambrosia that will T. Q. RUGBIENSIS.

nourish him to immortal fame.

Liverpool, Tuesday, Sept. 12, 1820.

Mr. Macready has a good figure, and a powerful voice, capable of great variety of intonation; his By such steady strides bas Mr. Macready attained to face, however, presents a formidable obstacle to his his present (according to my notions) unrivaled eleva- success in the higher walks in tragedy; his attitudes tion. Such an increase of vigour hath he gathered at each step, that he must inevitably grasp the diadem of are neither varied nor picturesque, they are sometimes histrionic talent. He has, however, a little yet to learn. excessively ungraceful and awkward, and his walk A little more nerve and experience is still wanting, to is more in the melo-dramatic style than in that of aid his guidance of the storm amid the whirlwinds of tragedy: His merit consists chiefly in a few happy Very little praise would be due to this tragedy if its impassioned elocution. He has also a little yet to un-conceptions in the unimpassioned scenes executed merit depended only on its poetic graces. The author learn. His imitations of other schools of acting are still with judgment, and in a style at once natural adopted a homeliness of language and a laxity of perceptible, though faintly so; for his towering spirit and original. Before I saw him, I understood versification, which verges nigh on an affectation of hath already spurned those servile, though for a time that he had made a successful stand in London as relessness ill befitting the majesty of the tragic muse.useful, fetters, and he hath gradually formed for him- Richard and Macbeth, in opposition to the powerful te What analogy can there possibly exist between the dig self a style purely his own. Ztified simplicity of the Elizabethan dramatis (which he party there, who conceive Mr. Kean to be the only vidently aims at) and such slovenly diction as the foltragedian of modern times; but I find, that instead wing: I shall be glad to see you at my house:" of having triumphed over that party, he has bent How d'ye du?" &c. &c. before it, and that he has adopted the worst mannerisms of Mr. Kean, while at the same time he is destitute of those brilliant powers which shed a glory over even the vices of that celebrated genius. Notwithstanding all this, Mr. Macready is a clever actor, and his Virginius has some brilliant points. For instance, nothing could be finer in its way than a part of his dialogue with Titus in the first scene; though even here his entrance being bad and out of character, is a drawback on the general excellency of the scene. The walk and tones of Mr. Macready were characteristic of calmness and contemplation: the text shows they should have been indicative of animated remonstrance. I ground this remark on the words of Cneius, immediately before the entrance of Virginius: "But bither comes Virginius, who interested himself so much in Carbo's affair. He looks a little heated." And on the first words Virginius utters, which are certainly those of remonstrance: "Why did you make him Decemvir, and first Decemvir too?" His interview with Virginia, in the second scene, is extremely happy.

and even freshness of novelty in which Mr. Knowles Nina ingeniously robed this well-known story.

renity of the home scenes.

Το

TO THE EDITOR.

On Monday evening Mr. Macready made his first appearance on the Liverpool stage. This gentleman has, for the last five years, been sustaining second and third rate characters at Covent-garden, with success. Last season, however, the managers, in the absence of superior talent, found it necessary to entrust him with a higher range of characters, and the writers for the stage have, accordingly, by warm and highly-coloured eulogiums upon his merits, excited in the public a considerable curiosity to witness his exertions.

eighten this interest, and to produce this colouring of Lasovelty, all the collateral incidents of the plo: blend most harmoniously. Indeed, it is in this skilful are ungement of the parts, that the beauty of the whole Thiefly consists; though I must admit, that the plain, olloquial familiarity of the style, which somewhat disats when applied to the expression of loftier sentigent, often accords very delightfully with the tranquil In this play, there is one flagrant violation of the Bities. I allude to the continuation of the action after in fatal catastrophe, in the fourth act, which each preloas development hath fully prepared the mind to rebee upon, as its termination. 1 question, however, hether the demand of our feelings, for the poetical The Loudon critics display so much keenness in stribution which the fifth act contains, would not the perception of the beauties and faults of an actor, rove much more imperative than the demands of mere and so much eloquence in portraying them, and the ypercriticism, for a more rigid adherence to its dog-various publications containing their observations ta common justice to Mr. Macready, we must attri. have a circulation so extensive, that it appears almost presumptuous to attempt, "in the country,” any thing like a critique on one whose exertions have been sanctioned by their high approbation, especially if the writer call in question the justice of their decision. As, however, we in Liverpool pay a little more attention to theatricals than do the inhabitants of most provincial towns, it is not to be supposed that, when we assemble in a theatre, at the announcement of a celebrated name, we do so merely to be filled with wonder and admiration, or to greet with loud applause, that, which if we had seen done by an actor of less notoriety, we should have passed over with indifference. And although we have no writers who, properly speaking, criticise the drauma, yet as the Kaleidoscope has in its new series recorded the exertions of our regular company of performers, and has freely stated in its pages wherein they have failed in a proper delineation of the characters they have attempted; and as the writer of this, perfectly uninfluenced by partiality for one more than another, has not been backward to publicly condemn in all, what he has been convinced was improper; it would be highly unjust to them, and derogatory to himself, were he to shrink from avowing the inipression made on him by an actor, merely because that impression happened to differ from the recorded judgment of others, more able than himself, it may be, to form a correct one, but of whose impartiality, integrity, or motives, he knows absolutely nothing.

sute the success which has crowned this drama in a great measure to his masterly conception and energetic Tecution of the main character. In truth, it is a dighly-finished piece of acting; full of delicate pathos; all of the most lofty passion. There is such a noble expression of dignity and grace in the countenance and Sigure of this accomplished actor; such a princely grandeur in his whole bearing, that he at one glance aways our sympathies; at one glance commands, and we cherfully yield to him, our implicit confidence: nor do we feel any inclination to enter upon the ungracious ask of detecting petty, venial errors, in his admirable performance. This imposing effect Mr. Macready brings about by the transmigration of his whole soul to the personification of the Roman centurion. Through all the rich diversity of parental emotion, which that character presents, he is ever, though perbaps not the Stoic historical truth might require, yet be is ever most classically Roman. Whether we contemplate his doating fondness in his peaceful home; his trembling rage, when told of the peril which hangs ever his darling daughter, or when he hears that his lovely Virginia has been dragged through the public streets of Rome to the tribunal of the tyrant of his country and murderer of his Dentatus; his agonized indignation when the horrible truth flashes conviction en his mind, that the miscreant who claims the freeborn Virginia to be his slave is only the pander of that merderous tyrant's lust; whether we eye him as the rage worse than death; or as the frantic avenger of her wrongs: in all these various attitudes of a father's love, we never for a moment forget that he is a Roman farber.

stern minister of his child's deliverance from an out

I cannot conceive a more magnificent voice for the purposes of the stage, than Mr. Macready's. Perhaps it may be rather too guttural when at its natural pitch; but, what power he has in its modulation! How it the inmost soul, when it swells to the highest burst of passion? How silvery it floats round the heart, when it adds melody to that sweet touch of pure

thrills

Bature,

If

be

to

I never saw you look so like your mother,
In all my life!"

I've seen this face! tut! tut! I know it

As well as I do my own, yet can't bethink me
Whose face it is!

may be quoted as one of the most prominent and
pleasing beauties of this performance. A beauty of
the same kind may be noticed in his felicitous man-
ner of asking Icilius,

Do you wait for me

To lead Virginia in, or will you do it?
Mr. Macready made his most successful attempt at
dignity also in this scene, in his appeal to Icilius;
Stop, Icilius!

Thou seest that hand? It is a Roman's boy;
'Tis sworn to liberty. It is the friend
Of honour.

Then you'll believe
It has an oath deadly to tyranny,
And is the foe of falsehood!

His action was also in this instance chaste and spi-
rited; more so, indeed, than in any other part of the
play.

I must give one instance more, in which Mr. Macready displayed much judgment and energy. It was in the third scene of the fourth act, when, after the reply of Claudius, "She is mine, then; de not look at you," Virginius exclaims:

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which received every requisite aid from the energetie style of Macready.

These are the principal beauties of this much extolled performance. Analyse them, and to what de they amount? To how much more than a proof that Mr. Macready can declaim well, and that if the language of the nursery and the drawingroom be translated to the stage, it will receive

It will be seen, from the general tenor of these remarks, that I do not receive "with rapturous applause" the exertions of Mr. Macready. On the contrary, I am free to confess my disappointment in the high expectations I had formed from the inflated accounts given in the London prints, of his hail an actor who had triumphed over the vices of every advantage from the fine talents and unrivalled superior talents. I went to the theatre prepared to Mr. Kean's style of acting, and who "united in him-powers of this astonishing performer? self the great and opposite qualites (not of poor As I am aware you allot only a certain space of Kean, who was in this instance passed over with your publication to dramatic notices, and as I supsupercilious coutempt, but) of Garrick and John pose it likely that you will have other communicaKemble, in the days of their glory." O temporations on this subject for your present number, i shall delay until your next my review of the faults

we only reflect how that little exclamation is ed, I think we must own that nothing can be more ing than the chaste simplicity of words in which it mores!

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TO THE EDITOR.

SIR,-As you have given some account in the Kaleidoscope of extraordinary feats of swimming, perhaps you may consider the following fact worthy a corner in your miscellany.

would oblige me exceedingly, if she would only men-
tion the street from whence she dates her communica-
tion, as I presume it is of considerable length, and no
danger of exposure can accrue from its being named.
And now, Mr. Editor, allow me to remark, that if
you could but prevail upon your correspondents on
may happen to reside, it would be a means of saving
this subject, en masse, to name the street wherein they
infinite trouble both to them and your humble servant,
A YOUNG BACHELOR.

St. James's-street, Sept. 13, 1820.
NEW SERIES OF THE KALEIDOSCOPE.

TO THE PUBLIC.

Several of the early numbers of the new series of the Kaleidoscope are now nearly or completely exhausted; in consequence of which, the original intention of the publishers, to lay by a certain number of copies, in order to form complete annual volumes for the London or foIn the month of April, 1793, a French sloop sailed reign market, is in a great degree frustrated. In order, from Porto Nova, on the coast of Africa, bound to therefore, to induce the puchasers to furnish themselves Whydah; and, at nine o'clock on the same evening, was overtaken by a tremendous tornado, when one of with copies, as soon as convenient after the day of pubthe seamen, in coming down from furling the topsail,lication, and also as a defensive measure against evenfell overboard. tual loss in repurchasing or reprinting, notice is now The poor fellow remained in the sea all night, without any support but what he derived from his own indi-respectfully given, that, one week after the day of pubvidual exertions, and was picked up soon after daylight lication, the price of each number will be ADVANCED at (about half-past five o'clock) the following morning, by discretion, and according to calculations made from the a pinnace-boat belonging to the ship Liverpool Hero. stock then remaining on hand. As this measure is the He was then about a quarter of a mile from the shore; and, as he afterwards informed me, had no doubt of only alternative left to the publishers, to guard against making it in safety, had the boat not come to his aid. any ultimate loss; and as they have an undoubted right From his account, it appeared that he divested himself to put what price they find necessary upon those numof his shirt and trowsers as soon as possible after he bers, they keep as a speculation beyond the ordinary was in the water, resting on his back and swimming occasionally; but the wind being strong off the land quantity, for which there is a regular demand, it is to be during the night, retarded his progress towards the hoped, that, after this notice and explanation, future shore. His escape from the sharks, which are very purchasers will not consider themselves aggrieved, nor numerous in this part of the coast, was almost as mi- taken by surprise, when required to comply with condiraculous as his presence of mind and muscular strength during the period of danger. He was a favourite with tions which will be strictly and impartially adhered to. Defaud and his crew. His return, therefore, to Why- At the foot of the regular Kaleidoscope advertisement, dab, where I saw him, excited in them the most lively some of the numbers are advertised for. joy and surprize. Yours,

NAUTICUS.

TO THE EDITOR.

SIR,It is impossible to find words that will convey an adequate idea of the gratitude I feel for your invaluable services on my behalf; and, as I have always an unusual appetite, whenever any thing occurs that has a tendency to elevate my spirits, I am sure you would suppose yourself listening to a romance from the celebrated Baron Munchausen, were I to give an account of the prodigious quantity of food consumed by your humble servant, together with a proportionate accompaniment of Barclay's brown stout, (my fa vourite beverage) since I became possessed of the information contained in your last Kaleidoscope; whether the effects of it will operate to my disadvantage, by rendering me so corpulent in a few weeks as not to be identified by the female object of my pursuit, remains yet to be seen; such, I trust, will not be the unfortunate result. To proceed to the delightful contents of that publication. I observe amongst the many engaging proposals made to me, through your kind medium, there is one from Ann B, to be opposite Park Church, at six o'clock in the evening of Friday Dext: to this I may reply, that the lateness of the bour, and at that distance from town, together with the masculine composition of the piece itself, convince me of its being the production of a wolf in sheep's clothing-The invitation of E. F. is too arduos à task. God help the shivering wight who would thus expose himself in so public a situation for a whole day, to the "pelting of the pitiless storm."-The young lady who intends to have a round up Duke-street, on Saturday next, at 4 o'clock, will be attended to.-L'INCONNUE is informed that she has missed the mark, in supposing J. S. to be the initials of my name; but I shonld feel a pleasure in becoming further acquainted with this fair unknown. The LADT WITH A PARCEL, from Toxteth-park,

To Correspondents.

THEATRICAL CRITICS.---
Some

say the Signor Bonnichinni
Compar'd with Handel's a mere ninny ;
Others aver, that to him, Handel
Is hardly fit to hold the candle ;-
Strange, such a difference there should be
'Twixt Tweedledum, and Tweedledee!

If it be subject of wonder that critics should differ
so diametrically from each other, on the comparative
merits of two rival candidates; it is still more singular
that such antipodean opinions should prevail as to
the merits of one and the same individual performer.
and that too in precisely the same character. This
critical phenomenon, however, is illustrated in the
letters of Q. R. and G. N. whose estimates of the
merits of Mr. MACREADY, are so strikingly in oppo-
sition to each other; the former placing that gentle.
man at the very top of his profession, whilst the latter
assigns him a very subordinate niche in the histrionic
temple of fame. The motto of Audi alteram par-
tem" is so obviously just, in matters of opinion, that
we make no apology for permitting both champions
to avail themselves of our arena to decide their meta-
physical dispute; uninfluenced ourselves by partiality
for either: although we feel much more disposed on
this occasion, to side with the Knight of Rugby, than
with his very severe opponent. Another champion
in favour of Mr. MACREADY has presented himself,
with the very prepossessing motto of FAIR PLAY in-
scribed on his shield; and should also have been in-
troduced, had we not been apprehensive that some of
of our friends might remind us that when they take
a peep into our Kaleidoscope, as in that of Dr. Brew-
ster, they naturally expect a variety of objects reliev-
ing each other in an endless and pleasing succession.
With the letter of the YOUNG BACHELOR, we must
for the present at least, take leave of a subject which

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if not checked, promises to engross the whole of our columns: it gathers as it proceeds, like a snowball, which our amorous correspondents will perhaps re gard as a strange simile on our parts. We find such interest excited by the proposal made to us to become match-makers, that were we not uncommonly disin terested, we should not fail to take up the affair in the true spirit of trade, and charge a brokerage upon ang matches brought about by our agency or intervention. A moderate per centage upon the jointure, if there should be such a concomitant convenience, would per haps be the fairest arrangement. If we ultimately determine to add to our present avocations that of CUPID'S BROKER, our youthful readers shall be apprised of the circumstance by an advertisement in the Mercury: which shall have a place adjoining the marriages, and may be recognised by a vignette representing a bleeding heart, pierced diagonally by one of Cupid's shafts, after the manner of our best r lentines. If we finally determine to undertake th delicate office we shall consider it imperative upon w, to be regularly sworn to secresy, as ordinary agents in less important matters are; and the public may depend upon it, that, as we shall enter on the business, amore, if we undertake it at all, we shall expect be regarded in a light more favourable than that in which other brokers are exhibited, in the following definition given by that surly old cynic, Dr. Johnson-File Lexicon.) "BROKERS, who having no stock of their own, t and trade with that of other men; buying here, and selling there; and commonly abusing bosh sides, to make a little paltry gain.-Temple."

The interesting moral tale of VAVAOO has occupied
considerable a portion of this day's publication, that
we have been obliged to change some of our precos
certed arrangements; in consequence of which, several
articles intended for present publication, have ben
subjected to a temporay postponement.

DELIVERY OF THE KALEIDOSCOPE.-A OT
pondent, who assumes five initials, which we cannot
distinctly decipher, and who wishes our publication
be delivered at three or four o'clock on the Mondays,
at the north end of the town; should recollect that
the Kaleidoscope is nominally a Tuesday journal
but as its contents are purely of a miscellaneous and
literary nature, without any of that ephemeral interes
arising from news or political events, the precise t
of its being issued is a matter of minor importance
As we never require persons in our employment to
work on the Sabbath, we are not enabled to get the
work to press and ready for delivery, even in all
numbers, before three o'clock on the Monday afur
noon; about which time we generally contrive to im
a few copies. If our correspondent wishes to have h
copy as his tea-table companion each Monday af
noon, he may be accommodated to a certainty, by
sending to the office about five o'clock, genually
sooner: those copies sent round by the newsmen
of course reach their destination later; and that in
proportion to their distance from the place of pubi

cation.

CLEAN COPIES-Whilst on this subject, we take the
opportunity to recommend rather more than ordinary
care to be taken to keep the copies of the Kaleidosc
in neat order, as we shall in all probability have
advertise soon for several of the numbers of our new
series, as well as others of the former volumes, before
the size was reduced.

We have also received the favours of YOUR READER
-R. S.-BOMBASTES. SAMBO.-J. E-A SUB-
SCRIBER.-W. T.-MILES GLORIOSUS.-B. P. D.
-D. J.-CLIO OPTICUS.-JACOBUS.-COM.

Printed, published, and sold

BY EGERTON SMITH AND CO.
Liverpool Mercury Office.
Sold also by John Bywater and Co. Pool-lane: Mer
Evans, Chegwin and Hall, Castle-street; Mr. Th
Smith, Paradise-street;
Mr. Warbrick, Puble
Library, Lime-street; Mr. G. P. Day, News
Dale-street; Mr. Lamb, Hanover-street; and Mr
John Smith, St. James's-road, for ready money only
AGENTS FOR DUBLIN:
Messrs. J. K. Johnson & Co. No. 1, Eden Qiany, Love
Sackville-stress

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Geoffrey Crayon, Gent.

No. XXI.

"UTILE DULCI.”

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 1820.

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ticular account of the very interesting region in which of hideous faces, unknown birds, beasts,
he resides; of which the following may be considered and fishes; and fruits and flowers which
merely as a foretaste.]*
it would perplex a naturalist. to classify.
There are also, in Aldersgate street, cer-
tain remains of what were once spacious
and lordly family mansions, but which have
in latter days been subdivided into several

What I write is most true.

I have a whole booke of cases lying by me, which if I should sette foorth, some grave auntients (within the hearing of Bow bell) would bee out of charity with me. Nashe

In the centre of the great City of London tenements. Here may often be found the lies a small neighbourhood, consisting of a family of a petty tradesman, with its trum-. It was with pleasure and surprise, in which we trust cluster of narrow streets and courts, of very pery furniture, burrowing among the relics readers will participate, that we found upon a second venerable and delapidated houses, which of antiquated finery, in great rambling xamination of the latter part of the Sketch Book, re- goes by the name of LITTLE BRITAIN. time-stained apartments, with fretted ceilently published in London, that two or three of these Christ Church School and St. Bartholomew's ings, gilded cornices, and enormous marble' masterly compositions had escaped us, at the time we nide the collection which appeared in the second voHospital bound it on the west; Smithfield fire-places. The lanes and courts also contain many smaller houses, not on so grand tume of the old series of the Kaleidoscope. Amongst and Long-lane on the north; Aldersgatėthe pieces still in reserve is the following most admirable street, like an arm of the sea, divides it a scale, but, like your small ancient gentry, Sketch, conceived in the happiest moments, and written from the eastern part of the city; whilst sturdily maintaining their claims to equal antiquity. These have their gable ends to hought to overrate, when we venture to express the the yawning gulph of Bull-and-Mouth

a the best style of an author, whose talents we may be

opinion that he is without any rival in the peculiar street separates it from Butcher-lane, and the street; great bow windows, with diaspecies of composition which distinguishes the Sketch the regions of Newgate. Over this little mond panes set in lead; grotesque carvBook of Geoffrey Crayon. What Churchill invidiously territory, thus bounded and designated, the ings; and low arched door ways.*

observed of Holland may be applied to America, as
identified with our favourite author-

Genius is of no country, her pure ray
Shines all abroad, as general as the day;
Festo restraint, from place to place she flies,
And may hereafter in Columbia rise.

great dome of St. Paul's, swelling above In this most venerable and sheltered lit-
the intervening houses of Paternoster-row, tle nest have I passed several quiet years
Amen-corner, and Ave Maria-lane, looks
down with an air of motherly protection.

This quarter derives its appellation from
It is indeed most singular, that an American should having been, in ancient times, the residence
have acquired a more intimate knowledge of English of the Dukes of Brittany. As London in-
habits, manners, and peculiarities, as well as of the cha-
racteristic features of the country itself, than we find creased, however, rank and fashion rolled
evinced by our own native authors. He alternately re-off to the west, and trade creeping on a
minds us of Goldsmith, Addison, and Grose, the humo-

rous antiquarian.-Edt. Kal.

LITTLE BRITAIN.

of existence; comfortably lodged in the
second floor of one of the smallest, but old-
est edifices. My sitting-room is an old
wainscotted chamber, with small pannels,
and set off with a miscellaneous array of
furniture. I have a particular respect for
three or four high-backed claw-footed
their heels, took possession of their deserted chairs, covered with tarnished brocade ;
abodes. For some time Little Britain be- which bear the marks of having seen better
came the great mart of learning, and was days; and have doubtless figured in some
peopled by the busy and prolific race of of the old palaces of Little Britain. They
booksellers: these also gradually deserted seem to me to keep together, and to look
it, and emigrating beyond the great strait down with sovereign contempt upon their
of Newgate-street, settled down in Pater-leathern-bottomed neighbours; as I have
noster-row and St. Paul's Churchyard; seen decayed gentry carry a high head
where they continue to increase and multi-among the plebeian society with which they
were reduced to associate. The whole.
ply even at the present day.
But though thus fallen into decline, Little front of my sitting-room is taken up with a

[The following modicum of local history was lately
put into my hands by an odd-looking old gentleman in
a small brown wig and snuff-coloured coat, with whom
I became acquainted in the course of one of my tours
of observation through the centre of that great wilder
first, whether it was not one of those apochryphal tales
often passed off upon inquiring travellers like myself;
and which have brought our general character for vera- Britain still bears traces of its former splen-
There are several houses, ready to

ness the City. I confess that I was a little dubious at

city into such unmerited reproach. On making proper dour.

inquiries, however, I have received the most satisfactory

It is evident that the author of this interesting communication has included in his general title of Lit

assurances of the author's probity; and, indeed, have tumble down, the fronts of which are mag-tle Britain, many of those little lanes and courts that been told that he is actually engaged in a full and par-nificently enriched with old oaken carvings belong immediately to Cloth Fair.

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