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Quick starting up, and seizing Michael fast, "So!" cries the man, " I've found you, then, at last;

Scatter'd in thousand hues and shadowy forms O'er all the heavens; then to my musing mind,

"There's no mistake—I've nabb'd you now, || From every change educing pleasures still,

by G-!

"Sly as you are, at length you're fairly bit, "I am a Bailiff,-this here is a writ,

"So Master Wiggey, come along to quod!"

TO THE GRASSHOPPER.

ERE yet September's suns, with powerless gaze,

Athwart the mountain's slow revolving mists, Try their expansive beams;-cre yet the dove,

Amongst the green and thick embow'ring brakes,

Ceases his plaintive coo,-soothing to him
Who in sequester'd solitude delights;
Ere yet the swallow from our colder chime,
When noxious vapours load the heavy air,
Distill'd from steaming lake, or marshy pool,
Across the ocean meditates her flight
To summer skies and fragrance breathing
groves,-

The short but simple note of one small minstrel,

Attendant on the reaper at his toil,

Its shrill unvaried cadence chirping near,
Still haunts the noon-day path along the field.
Oh! how I love to list that simple note,
As from my path I brush the bending corn,
And with inverted ear attend thy song
Monotonous, yet sweeter far to me
Than clanging bands of war-provoking strings,
Or the pipe's echo in the jocund dauce.
'Tis sweeter to me, in some low glen retir'd,
Far from the busy sick'ning haunts of men,
In solitude to hear no note but thine:
Oh! then methinks each scene more lovely

seems,

And every object charms me but the more:
"Tis then her flight-excursive fancy tries;
Homeward she flies, and thinks she views those
friends,

To all the heart's affections ever dear,
Treading the slope of some corn-waving hill,
To muse on the lone wanderer far away,
And greet thy song in measure like his own.

Low sinks apace the golden eye of day,
And evening comes, with purple vested clouds,

They speak of Him and of his boundless

power,

Whose breath directs their ever varying

course,

Whose bounteous hand, dispensing blessings round,

Spreads the warm dews, distils the fruitful rain,

And ever mindful of man's helplessness, Show'rs blessings on his night and morning

path:

I lift my thoughts to Him whose wond'rous skill

Arch'd the blue heavens, and set them thick with worlds,

Planets, and stars, and slow revolving moons; His hand too launch'd in air our pond'rous

globe,

Self-balanc'd in the interminable void:
There's not a sound that swells the summer

breeze;

There's not a breath of evening to the sense Imparting raptures; nor the rushing stream, In mournful cadence, echoing through his banks;

Nor village sounds of heart inciting mirth; The watch-dogs bay, the chime of vesper bells,

Floating through willowy brake, or up the steep

That overhangs the vale, o'erspread with flowers;

There's not a scene that greets the raptured sight,

But He is there, and from his wond'rous

works

One burst of praise to him alone ascends. From thoughts so high, from musings so

sublime,

The Grasshopper recalls my wand'ring strain;
Again I follow, and again the sound
Moves with my steps along the rustling

corn.

Sweet minstrel, emblem of the song of hope,
That tells of bliss and peace without a cloud,
But as we search to gain the promis'd boon,
The airy phantom still eludes our grasp,
And onward moving still repeats her song.

A. C.

PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS FOR SEPTEMBER.

HAYMARKET.

MR. YOUNG IN THE HONEYMOON.

But the resemblance which the Duke Aranza hears to these two characters is not so much in manner and style, as in the scenic action in which he is engaged; they all, equally, discover the happy art of reducing a termagant wife, but what Leon effects by simple dignity, and Petruchio by whim, the Duke Aranza effects by a gentle course of natural incidents which for n the plot of the drama.

On Friday, September 9th, for the benefit of Mrs Gibbs, Mr. Young made his first appearance in the character of the Duke Aranza, in the Honeymoon It is upon this character, perhaps more than any other, that the fame of Elliston, as a general actor, is conceived to rest. It was to this character that he first gave As a character, therefore, compared with its dramatic being, and his name is likely t the other two, he is nothing; he only becomes descend with it upon the records of stage his-teresting by his conduct of the story and tory. Mr. Young, by assuming the part of direction of the plot. the Duke, has thrown down the gauntlet, and in soine measure challenged us to a comparison.

We are not disposed, however, to assess with any formality the respective merits of these performers. They do not here meet upon equal terms-Elliston, as the first occupant to speak somewhat technically, has a kind of natural right to preference; his claim, next to the poet's, is almost that of creating the ch. racter-it is the issue of his own mind, as a actor, and his rights are those of a second parent.

But the adoption of Mr. Young, if it does not supersede, will certainly not disgrace the natural father. The Duke, if he has not gained, has suffered little under his hands. It may still remain a doubt which was the father of Hercules, Amphitryon or Jove.

The character of the Duke is not original-it is a compound of Leon aud Petruchio; but it has not the dignity of Leon, nor has it any thing of the beauty which results from the strong contrast in that character, between drivelling idiotism, and the sudden burst of a soldier's honour, and the vindication of a hushand's rights.

The Duke partakes still less of the nature of Petruchio; the rough whimr and boisterous oddities of Petruchio are entirely original, and constitute the chief merit of the character; it is not in the taming of the shrew, but in the mauner in which she is tamed, that we discover the genius of Shakespeare.

But that we may not wander from the actor to the character, we shall express briefly our opinion of Mr. Young.

In the serious parts of the character he Duch excelled Elliston; he has more taste ...d judgment in scenes that approach to tra gedy. Elliston swells himself with unnatural turbulence, and overacts the merest common. place with bombastic particularity; with Elliston, in parts resembling tragedy, every thing is acted he is always on the watch for a burst, and economising his wind for a sudden raut— he is always studying effect, and overcharging

nature.

Mr. Young, on the contrary, has a controuling taste in the wildest extravagance of passion-his judgment is upon the alert, and if he does not unexpectedly kindle us, he is sure always to satisfy.

But in the light and comic parts of the character of the Duke, Mr. Young was not so happy; he has a hard, unkindly flow of hu mour; there is no good nature in his mirthhis vivacity is the most distant from merriment of any thing we ever knew.

It is here indeed that Elliston was missed. Nothing upon the modern stage is more admirable than the performance of Elliston in the comic scenes of the Honeymoon.

Upon the whole, Mr. Young has raised his character by his performance on that night; he has confirmed us in an opinion that, in parts of the grave and serious drama, he is entitled to rank by the side of Kemble.

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