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Fine Arts.

LIVERPOOL ROYAL INSTITUTION.

that has descended to us from antiquity. Even the well-despise the effect of contrast of colour in their sculpt
turned limbs of the Apollo, and the graces of the Venus
de Medicis have been thought of a lower order of art than
these Athenian marbles.

The graceful flexibility and delicate roundness of the
We stand pledged to give a place in the Kaleidoscope to female form are, undoubtedly, given in the Venus with a
some selections from Dr. Traill's able address, delivered beauty and a truth that almost makes the contemplator of
the original statue forget that it is of marble. It appears
in February last, at the general meeting of the members to me, however, that in viewing the Apollo, notwithstand-
of the Liverpool Royal Institution. In proceeding to re-ing the beautiful contour of the limbs, the majestic bearing
deem this pledge, we find ourselves somewhat at a loss which of the head and trunk, it is impossible for the anatomical
to reject, as the whole is connected and valuable. It is eye to forget that it has the coldness of stone. By the pe-
necessary, however, to confine ourselves within reasonable dantry of criticism, its very defects have been converted
into positive beauties, and the want of due swell and
bounds, as we cannot, with propriety, appropriate the sharpness in the muscles called into action, and the absence
whole of a document, which has been published in a of those cutaneous veins, the prominence of which give
pamphlet of thirty-five pages. We shall, therefore, pass life to the Athenian Marbles, would, we are told, have
over those details which are interesting rather to the pro-
belied the god!
prietors of the establishment than to the public at large;
and we hope that the following interesting account of the
valuable casts which adorn the Institution, will prove ac-
ceptable to the great majority of our readers. We may,
perhaps, continue our notice of Dr. Traill's address in our
next or the succeeding publication.

The collection of casts from antique sculptures in our gallery is, as you all know, of great value, and presents an assemblage, almost unique in Britain, of some of the choicest specimens of Grecian art. To the Alcibiades, sometimes called the Fighting Gladiator, the Venus de Medicis, and the Belvidere Apollo, are added, by the munificence of his Majesty, casts of the mutilated but matchless colossal statues, from the pediments of the Parthenon, the trieze of the cella, and some of the metopes of that temple, once the pride of Athens," the eye of Greece."

Respecting the author of these sculptures, the opinions of the learned were divided when the British Museum purchased them from Lord Elgin. All admitted their high merit; the best informed referred them to the most plendid era of Grecian art; and many of them to the chisel of Phidias himself. It is not unworthy of remark, that, in the evidence adduced on that occasion, the value and importance of these precious remains rose in proportion to the practical skill and reputation of the witnesses

examined.

The arguments then brought forward by one or two connoisseurs, to prove them not the works of Phidias, have always, to me, appeared inconclusive. Their opinion was chiefly grounded on the silence of Pausanias on this head, the alleged exclusion of the hand of Phidias in Plutarch, and the doubt whether that great artist ever wrought in marble. Pausanias makes but slight mention of the wonders of the Acropolis, probably because they were most familiar to his readers; and it might as well be alleged, that the testimony of the historian is against Phidias being the author of the celebrated statue of gold and ivory, in the interior of the temple, because in Pausanias that statue is shortly described, without any notice of its author: and it is curious that this omission occurs in the very sentence in which the figures of the tympans are still more slightly alluded to. The very mention of them, together with an acknowledged work of Phidias, would rather imply the reverse of the conclusion drawn from the silence of Pau

sanias.

of this kind. Several of the figures had painted ments on different parts of their armour, or dress, appear to have been executed in a sort of encaustic. aegis of Minerva had, evidently, been painted to re scales; and the whole group was relieved by thes blue ground of the tympana. Some of the statues another peculiarity. The lead remained in the ho which detached ringlets were added to the hair figures; and the hands of the warriors, and their appear to have been furnished with weapons of This mixture of materials, in sculpture, was famil the Greeks; and it is rather surprising that the of the figures should have not only been wrought in ble, to the thickness of only half an inch, but a instances out of the same block with the statue. Viewed, as individual figures, and models for th dent, it is worthy of notice, that the limbs, in stance, are more beautifully proportioned than the or the bodies. The action of the limbs shows the escape from the stiffness and mannerism of inf There is displayed a familiarity with the attitude muscular action of the human frame, that touches very perfection of the art.

Visconti has given strong reasons for supposing the Apollo a copy from a Grecian bronze; his arguments are chiefly derived from the style of the hair and position of the mantle on the left arm, which are sculptured in a manner that would be natural and easy of execution in bronze, but beset with needless difficulties in marble, and which have very imperfectly been overcome in this statue In general, the bodies are somewhat too short, ande in the disposition of the folds of the drapery. There are is a slenderness about the abdomen and loins which two other circumstances which convince me that Visconti not exist in the finest productions of ancient stalp is right; the figure is defective in anatomical balance, does The hair of the heads is monotonous and dry; t not possess the æquilibrium of stability; a fault that a position of the hair, in small curls, carefully am first-rate Grecian artist would never have committed; and around the forehead, or descending, in parallel lin when I had the pleasure of admiring this wonderful statue the shoulders, formal and ungraceful; the great p at Paris, I satisfied myself that it is neither of Parian nor nence of the eyes deprives the faces of the expressi Pentilican marble, but sculptured from a block of the relief which the projection of the orbit of the eye, marble of the Roman Luna, now the quarries of Carrara. deep shadow, imparts to the features of other On the unequal merits of the several metopes, on the statues; a smile of the same character plays on the spirit of the Panathenaic procession on the frieze of the tenances of all the figures, giving them a strong Parthenon, on the bold relief of the battle with the Ama-likeness, and something of monotony. The contrad zons, of the Phigalian frieze, my limits, at this time, will tween the style of the heads and limbs, warrants the not permit me to enter. ference, that the heads of these curious figures t bably copies of some more ancient and revered org and the preservation of the likenesses may hate alike dictated by gratitude and piety. The fines of the group is that of the dying warrior, at t Minerva; in which the falling of the body, at the e mencing relaxation of muscular exertion, an marked.

Our gallery contains what I believe is still unique in Britain, casts of the marbles of Ægina, which we owe to the liberality of Mr. Foster.

Whether considered as works of art, or as objects of antiquarian study, the marbles of Egina are of no ordinary interest. In the first place, they furnish the only perfect example that remains to us, of that bold and magnificent adornment of their architecture, by historical groups of detached figures, which was peculiar to the ancient Greeks. The mutilated remains of the Parthenon first explained to us the grand effect of this practice of the best age of Grecian art: but, unfortunately, the ravages of time, and still more, of barbarian hands, had so deformed this effort of genius, that we were left to supply, by conjecture, the disposition and management of the groups.

The detached figures, in our gallery, belongin same collection, are from the eastern pediment Panhellenium, and are superior in size and exe those of the western pediment; but, unfortune, group was much more mutilated, and the fragments such as only to afford a guess at their position tympan.

The story represented in the groups, has been of dispute. The most probable supposition appe me, that it is a subject taken from Homer, 15 likely the contest for the body of Patroclus, which, its connexion with the history of Achilles and A grand children of Eacus, the original founder of the of Panhellenian Jove, might naturally find a place chief temple of a state where the family of the B was almost deified.

The figures discovered by the excavations at Egina, buried for ages in the spot on which they had tumbled from the pediment of the western front of the temple, enabled our ingenious countrymen and their German associates to ascertain, with precision, the whole disposition and management of this grand historical picture. Aware of the importance of this discovery, as soon as the casts came into our possession, your committee arranged, from Mr. Cockrell's sketches, the figures of that pediment in their Of the era of the sculptures we have no certain original position; and if any thing could add to their pre- ancient history; but so splendid a structure as the sent value, it would be to surround them with a copy of and its ornaments could only have been ere the original mouldings of the tympanum, and give them powerful state. Egina had been a flourishing The alleged exclusion of Phidias, by Plutarch, is not the deep effect of shadow which they must have had in wealth long before the Persian War, and she d better founded. In the life of Pericles, he states that all their pristine site. What this would have been you may rise to a school of celebrated sculptors, of whic the public works in Athens were under the direction of partly guess, by supposing them transferred to the pedi- the only certain remains. Her decay began b Phidias. and that the temple of Minerva was built by Cal-ment of the fine portico of the Chapel of the School for the years before Christ, her lustre faded before the r hcrates and Ictinus: but, though these architects may have Blind, a restoration of the Panhellenian façade. of Athenian greatness, and the remains alluded t built the temple, it does not follow that they sculptured The interest excited by this collection of casts, a collec-probably, date from the preceding century, the statues; which, from their high finish in every part, tion which the metropolis does not possess, is acknowledged The sculptures of Egina prove the absolute ider both what was seen in front and what was next the wall, by the numerous strangers who come to visit it. Last their style with what has been denominated Her from their complete detachment from the building, can- summer we had here the son of an eminent sculptor, who and they form an important link in connecting the not be regarded as mere architectural ornaments. came expressly from London to make drawings of these finished productions of Grecian sculpture with the Those who affect to doubt whether Phidias ever wrought curious remains on a large scale, for his father's use. of ruder ages. Their connection with Hetruscan in marble must be better informed than Pausanias, who The surfaces of the individual figures are often weathered, ture is proved, among other indications, by a comp enquierates several statues of marble by that great artist, but in almost every statue much of the original surface re- with a curious Hetruscan figure among the marble and, among others, mentions the statue of the celestial mains, and most of the figures required but little restora- Ince, in this neighbourhood, a cast of which ha Venus at Athens, which exists," says he, "at present, tion. They prove what we have already noticed, that the lately presented to the gallery by Mr. Blunde is formed of Parian marble, and is the work of Phidias ;" figures placed in the deep tympans of Grecian pediments discoveries of the still more ancient metopes of the sculptured by him out of a block of marble, which the when detached from the buildings they ornamented, and late companion, Mr. Harris, carry back Grecian art al as well as the famous statue of Nemesis, at Marathon, were carefully finished on all their surfaces, were perfect of Jupiter at Selinus, in Sicily, by Mr. Angell and presumptuous Persians had brought to erect as a trophy therefore are not to be confounded with mere architectural to the commencement of that progress by which the decorations. The figures, too, unlike academical figures of the Greeks rescued sculpture from the tramaci in general, are represented in energetic action, the muscles Egyptian formality. are thrown into natural contrasted play; and prove how well the artist knew how to give animation to the efforts of The originals teach another fact of great interest;-that the Greeks, at an early, yet vigorous era of art, did not

for their expected victory.

The weight of testimony inclines to the opinion that the Eigin statues from which our casts are taken were the workmanship of Phidias: but, to whomsoever we owe

them, there can be no doubt of their transcendent merit, his chisel.
and their value as studies to our sculptors and painters.
Many of the best judges prefer them as works of art to all

We have no written memorial of the ruin of the P hellenium. The first mention of the city of B after periods occurs in one of Cicero's letters; in which he sanias says, "the Panhellenian mountain contains nat

pt the Temple of Jupiter, worthy of notice, and this le is said to have been dedicated to Jupiter by Eacus." the sum of all the information on it in ancient auwhether it was ruined by the Athenian conquerors, slow hand of time, or by an earthquake, is unof more consequence to know, that to the enterprise British and two German travellers we owe the re. of these precious remains; while we have to regret lucky mistake of Mr. Coombe, sent to the Mediterexpressly to purchase them for the British Museum, ich our country is deprived of the possession of the

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THE EDITOR OF THE BRITISH TRAVELLER. the monopolies now existing, none seem so hard pressive as that of the great landholders against cr cultivating the waste land, as proved hereafter, by Courite converse proposition, so often urged in the tion Third Report, viz. :

te landowners contend that the bringing into cultilarge tracts of good, or moderately good waste land, not be beneficial to the public, to supply the in gpopulation with food, and to lower its price, the e proposition must be admitted, that the throwing cultivation the good, and moderately good soils, by cessive and cheap corn importation, would be of no injury.

the landowners contend, that the bringing poor to cultivation would not pay the expenses of work. em-the converse proposition must be admitted, le permission of merely so doing by any act of Part, would not be at all to their injury, if they were mpelled, by law, to cultivate the land. je landowners contend that the cheap labour of the Des not increase the value of the land, and that and provisions always keep upon a level, the conproposition must be admitted, that the high wages the farmer, as well as those allowed from the poor lo not decrease the landlord's rents, and the price of ons is of no consideration to them, whether high or corn importation.

le landowners contend that the present distresses of or are not incompatible with their wealth and comid that the country's prosperity is evident from all nd new buildings, enlarged parks, and extensive preof game, &c. &c., the converse proposition must be ed-that it is of no consequence to them to get rid of ve population by extra poor rates and charges on ddling classes of society by emigration. le landowners contend that the labour of our poor tion (though cheap) is not worth its employment, ply its own support from our waste lands, but is quired in Canada, where the land is so much more ive as only wanting to be scratched, the converse on must be admitted, that very little labour there, will be required, as well as the extent of produce; at the true value of cheap labour tells most in the where it is most wanted and used.

lastly, whether our manufacturers can be persuaded eve that the sending our poor population to Canada, of enhancing their employment and wages, and them at home, will increase the demand for ed not trouble you, Mr. Editor, with any further

manufactures?

e propositions.

SINCERE FRIEND TO ENGLAND'S PROSPERITY.

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NOTICE OF THE PROFILE MOUNTAIN IN NEW HAMPSHIRE;

BY GEN. MARTIN FIELD.

To Professor Silliman.

DEAR SIR.-On a late excursion, which I made among the White Mountains in New Hampshire, I visited Franconia and the Profile Mountain, which has long been considered a rare phenomenon. I there procured a sketch of the mountain, which I enclose to you, and if it meets your approbation, you will please to insert it in the Journal of Science, &c.* I am, Sir, very respectfully, yours &c. New Fane, Vt., Nov. 22, 1287.

MARTIN FIELD.

The White Mountain range passes through the easterly part of Franconia, and presents numerous elevations and sublime mountain scenery. But the greatest elevation, in that vicinity, is mount La Fayette, which forms the northern boundary of the Notch, so called, and is supposed to exceed four thousand feet in height. The Profile Mountain is nigh the road leading from Franconia to Plymouth-is five miles from the lower iron works, in Franconia, and about three miles south of Mount La Fayette. The elevation of this mountain, I understand, has never been accurately ascertained, but it is generally estimated to be, at least, one thousand feet. The road passes very nigh the foot of the mountain, from which it rises abruptly, at an angle of about 80° to the profile rock. The bare rock, on which the profile is delineated, is granite, and having been long exposed to the atmosphere, its colour is dark reddish brown. A side view of the projecting rock. near the peak of the mountain, in a northern direction, exhibits the profile of the human face, in which every line and feature are conspicuous. But after passing the mountain to the south, the likeness is immediately lost.

a

The sketch of the mountain, profile, &c. was taken by a gentleman of Boston, and the likeness is a good one. The mountain scenery is filled up from fancy. The mountain is covered with trees and shrubbery, except the profile rock. The timber is a mixture of beech, birch, rock maple, bass wood, &c. with hemlock, spruce, and other evergreens.

man.

seen, in which is naturally formed the perfect figure of a At Pisa, in the church of St. John, there is a similar natural production, which represents an old hermit in a desert, seated by the side of a stream, and who holds in his hand a small bell, as St. Anthony is commonly painted. In the temple of St. Sophia, at Constantinople, there was. formerly, on a white marble, the image of St. John the Baptist, covered with the skin of a camel, with this only imperfection, that nature had given him but one leg. At Ravenna, in the church of St. Vital, a cordelier is seen on dusky stone. They found in Italy a marble, in which a crucifix was so elaborately finished, that there appeared the nails, the drops of blood, and the wounds, as perfectly as the most excellent painter could have formed them. At Sneilberg, in Germany, they found in a mine. a certain rough metal, on which was seen the figure of a man, who carried a child on his back. In Provence they found, in a mine, a quantity of natural figures of birds, trees, rats. and serpents; and in some places of the western parts of Tartary, are seen, on divers rocks, the figures of camels, horses, and sheep."

There is preserved in the British Museum a black stone. on which nature has sketched a resemblance of the por-, trait of Chaucer.

There is a species of the orchis found in the mountainous parts of Lincolnshire, Kent, &c. Nature has formed a bee, apparently feeding in the breast of a flower, with so much exactness, that it is impossible, at a very small distance, to distinguish the imposition. Hence the plant derives its names, and is called the Bee Furwer. This is elegantly expressed by Langhorne, who thus notices its appearance:

"See on that flow'ret's velvet breast,
How close the busy vagrant lies!
His thin-wrought plume, his downy breast,
Th'ambrosial gold that swells his thighs.
"Perhaps his fragrant load may bind
His limbs; we'll set the captive free:
I sought the living bee to find,

And found the picture of a bee."†{" Another curious specimen of the playful operations of nature is the mandrake; a plant, indeed, when it is bare of leaves, perfectly resembling the human form. This object the same poet has noticed:

"Mark how that rooted mandrake wears
His human feet, his human hands;
Oft, as his shapely form he rears,

Aghast the frighted ploughman stands.” He closes this beautiful fable with the following stanza, not unapposite to the curious subject of this article: "Helvetia's rocks, Sabrina's waves,

Still many a shining pebble bear;
Where nature's studious hand engraves

The perfect form, and leaves it there."

In the Academy of Abbé Bourdelot, a work which, is written in dialogue, one of the persons shows a large flint, which appears to be a piece of oak; some of the assembly are of opinion that it is a piece of oak petrified; on which subject there arises a discussion, whether bones, wood, and other materials, can be petrified. Some maintain the affirmative, and others the negative, One of them says, that a friend had shown him a piece of wood petrified, with all its veins apparent; and what confirms its being wood is, that the piece is lighter than stone, but heavier than wood. Another informs the assembly, that he had seen in Auvergne a fountain of which the water became petrified in twenty-four hours. It had also formed The original sketch of the Profile Mountain, from of itself a petrified canal, which served as a bridge above which the above is copied, is on a much larger scale, and a stream of water which traverses it. He had also a the resemblance to a human head, of course, much more piece of bacon petrified so naturally, that it deceived the distinctly defined. Our sketch will, however, serve to in-eye. A friend observes, that this bacon is the settlement terest our readers, who may, at any time, see the original of stony particles in strata.

at our office, where a copy of Silliman's Journal shall be left for their inspection for a week or two.

Some persons may suspect that the profile has been one chiselled out, like the colossal figure of a horse, in the side of our English chalk hills, the precise site of which we do not now recollect. We think this doubt must be groundless, on account of the magnitude of the profile;

and we think the resemblance must be one of those coincidences of which there are many much more striking instances, as will be seen from the following article from D'Israeli's Curiosities of Literature, under the head NATURAL PRODUCTIONS RESEMBLING ARTIFICIAL

COMPOSITIONS.

Pliny mentions an agate in which appeared, formed by the hand of nature, Apollo amidst the nine Muses holding a harp. Majolus assures us, that at Venice another is

"I have seen (writes a friend) many of these curiosities, They are always helped out by art. In my father's house was a gray marble chimney-piece, which abounded in portraits, landscapes, &c., the greatest part of which was made

by myself."

This orchis is common near our sea coasts; but, instead of being exactly like a bee, it is not like it at all. It has a general resemblance to a fly; and, by the help of imagination, may be supposed to be a y pitched upon the flower. The mandrake very frequently has a forked root, which may be fancied to resemble thighs and legs. I have seen it helped out with nails on the toes, &c." I must remark, respecting the beeflower, that, in a matter where the imagination is so deeply concerned, what may appear a fly to the philosophic eye of my friend, may have appeared a bee to the poetical eye of Langhorne.

The same friend, who resides in Devonshire, writes,

The Drama.

[FROM A CORRESPONDENT.]

THEATRE ROYAL

-look, where my abridgments come."

The popular and rational recreations of the drama were resumed on Monday se'nnight, with an éclat, as respects the town, and a spirit of liberality on the part of the management, hitherto unknown amongst us. Not only have some judicious alterations been effected on the stage, yielding increased scenic facilities, and contributing largely to the pleasures derived therefrom, but very eminent artists, also, are engaged from London, and their respective talents put at once into active requisition, no less, it would seem, for the advancement of their own fame than for the gratification of the public. We must, however, take leave to protest against an improvement in the pit-the wells, one at each end of the orchestra. It would be difficult to ascertain, we think, why these pit-falls should be substituted for the even flooring that preceded them, when the orchestra was varied. They are clearly a loss of so much room, for a spectator might witness just as much of the stage from Williamson-square. If the audience part of the house is to be thus curtailed, the public should be advantaged in some other way; and the managers would have done well, we conceive, had they availed themselves of the space in question for enlarging the orchestra; thus evincing their determination to vie with the metropolis, as well in the quantity and quality of their music, as in other

respects.

The performances of the night were Coriolanus, and the legendary spectacle of Peter Wilkins, both "got up," as the phrase is, in excellent style, with scenery greatly amended to the one, and entirely new, beautiful, and appropriate, to the other. Mr. Grieve and his fellow-labourer (though in a different vocation) Mr. Wilmor, have not visited us in vain; nor can the plaudits lavished upon the result of their efforts on this occasion, fail to convince them that the people of Liverpool can appreciate ability with enthusiasm alike warm and merited.

Correspondence.

ON THE USE OF THE APOSTROPHE.

TO THE EDITOR.

SIR,-The various opinions respecting the proper appli. cation of the Apostrophe in several instances, induce me to ask the following question:-Whether proper names, such as Macfarlane, Mackenzie, &c. which are frequently contracted into McFarlane, McKerzie, &c. are proper when the small c is omitted, to place in its stead an inverted comma? It is the opinion of some, that instead of an inverted comma, an apostrophe would be more proper. Perhaps either you or some of your literary correspondents will favour me with a correct answer:-Yours, &c.

The Housewife.

COFFEE BOILING.

INQUIRER.

To Mr. J. M.,-Get a tin boiler, large in proportion to your family; put in what coffee you choose to afford, with as much water as will suffice, most probably, for all round, as often as they usually take it, and give it a single boil: all their cups will be thus of an equal strength. Is it possible for a receipt to be simpler or easier to understand? You have the candour to admit that the biggin or infusion method is an extravagant one, to make it equally good with the boiling way; and that is quite sufficient to condemn it, besides its raw uncooked taste. Do you know that scalding cream, in hot weather, makes it keep sweet' for a day after? I believe that this can only be done well by steam; that is, by putting the cream-jug on the top of a narrow-mouthed saucepan, or shaving tin, and letting the water boil for about ten minutes, or longer, till the cream just begins to bubble: still it will turn sour unless the cream-jug is washed in scalding water every day. If you have any more to say about coffee, please to take the brevity of this for a pattern.

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H.

take great care to avoid costiveness)" This was the golden
rule of Boerhaave, the greatest physician in modern, or
probably in ancient times; who concluded his advice by
observe these plain, simple rules, and would avoid a cur-
saying something to this effect:-" If people would only
rent of air as they would avoid an arrow, physicians would
be altogether a useless class of beings.'

RULES FOR THE PROMOTION OF HEALTH. Mr. Vandenhoff returns from his northern tour with an 1. "Rise early. Walk or ride for an hour or two, then accession of fame as well deserved as arduously acquired. eat a hearty substantial breakfast. Let your other meals Throughout Scotland the press and the people have vied be moderate, and use exercise freely (by walking, skipwith each other in awarding to this great actor the ably-ping, or in any other way,) before going to bed." This earned testimony of their approval, and in this they have receipt has been lately recommended in strong terms by done equal justice to themselves and him. His style of Sir Astley Cooper, and many others of the most eminent physicians and surgeons in London. acting" we quote the Paisley Advertiser-" throws more 2. Keep your feet warm (i. e. by exercise); your light on the old Roman character, than all the tomes pro-head cool (i. e. by temperance); and your body open (i. e. duced by all the commentators and antiquarians of Germany itself. The mellowness of his manner, and the truth of his conceptions, fit him particularly for the classic walks of the drama, for parts distinguished by moral dignity and power." He is the Coriolanus of the historian and of the poet; a thorough patrician, with a proper sense of his own high birth, and a becoming distaste for every thing plebeian; a great man, but no patriot. Majestic, heroic, impassioned, Mr. Vandenhoff combines in his delineation of Marcius all the uncompromising haughtiness, reckless impetuosity, and elevated enthusiasm of his nature, with a full development of the littleness and unamiability of the character. And in this he is peculiar. Kemble, of whom we never think or speak but with veneration, (it is useless to mention others,) represented Coriolanus through. out as something more than man, and little less than a god, ennobling his very vices; which, though magnificent to look upon, and of wondrous effect, we subunit, with deference, was incorrect.

of flannel; plenty of air; and let them have plenty of
3. For children.-" Give them plenty of milk; plenty
sleep; and they will seldom, if ever, ail any thing."
That is, milk is their best diet; they must be warmly
clothed; must be much out of doors; and must be always
allowed to sleep till they waken of their own accord.

Anecdote of Mr. Jefferson.—Mr. Jefferson, while President of the United States, passing a stream in Virginia, he was accosted by a feeble beggar, who implored his aid to help him over it. Without hesitation, he carried him over behind him; and on the beggar telling him that he had neglected his wallet, he as good-humouredly recrossed the stream and brought it to him.-Virginian. Mrs. Vaughan made her début as Volumnia. She was well received, and is an acquisition. It is highly com- Lord Norbury was travelling lately to Dublin, from a plimentary to Miss Eyer, who presented herself for the town in the neighbourhood, and, as usual, the takings up first time, to be told that she very strongly reminded us, and settings down were far from few. Just as the wheels in Virgilia, of Mrs. Vandenhoff, since whose time we have of the coach were touching the stones, the guard, clambeen altogether without an adequate representative for the | bering up behind, exclaimed for the fifteenth time, "Go truly amiable and interesting bride of Caius Marcius. on-all right!""Oh, the devil fetch them ;" cried his

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To Correspondents.

CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE. We have in pr for our next publication, the story of the Fair Mat from the new series of the Chronicles.

ESSAY ON CONTENT.-The essay of W. P., of Red Lion London, shall appear in our next. As our curre has paid us the compliment to consult us on the we do not hesitate to express the opinion that be the talents requisite for the task he has proposed self. There are, in his manuscript, a few in which, evidently, are to be ascribed to haste. O occurs in the second page of the essay, in the fol sage: "glancing o'er each light, elastic form, sty along," &c. We may, perhaps, be fastidious

but the

the substitution, in prose, of o'er for over; plural pronoun (they) in reference to a singsra is quite inadmissible. We have taken this ery correspondent with the view only of putting

guard against those lapsi pennæ from which w

acknowledged talents are not exempt; witness Scott, in almost every page of whose works we more palpable slips than those to which we ha adverted. These arise entirely from carelessness, b

are, nevertheless, great defects; and the too prev lect, on the part of our professed crities, to protes such slovenly habits, is, in our opinion, very reprehe An author of great celebrity ought to be especially lest his example be pleaded as an excuse by those wi

sess none of his redeeming qualities.

CAPTAIN CLAPPERTON. We have in reserve for rent some very interesting sketches of this enterprising fortunate African traveller.

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE.-The story we have take an American journal, and to which we have appendel editorial comments, will, we presume, be quite new great majority of our readers.

We are pleased to find Coriolanus announced for repe- Lordship, pushing out his head from the window, "had Printed, published, and sold, every Tuesday, by E

tion, the best commentary, after all, of the gust with which the play was received on Monday.

they been all left we would have been in Dublin an hour
ago."

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and Co., at their General Printing Office, Led Liverpool, and to be had of all Booksellers

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amiliar Miscellany, from which all religious and political matters are excluded, contains a variety of original and selected Articles; comprehending LITERATURE, CRITICISM, MENand MERS, AMUSEMENT, elegant EXTRACTS, POETRY, ANECDOTES, Biography, METEOROLOGY, the DRAMA, ARTS and SCIENCES, WIT and SATIRE, FASHIONS, NATURAL HISTORY, &c. forming adsome ANNUAL VOLUME, with an INDEX and TITLE-PAGE. Persons in any part of the Kingdom may obtain this Work from London through their respective Booksellers.

413.-Vol. VIII.

The Bouquet.

LIVERPOOL, TUESDAY, MAY 27, 1828.

we here only made a nosegay of culled flowers, and have At nothing of my own but the thread that ties them."

THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH.

adherents, is defeated by the brave Smith, who is her Valentine, and who, in the affray, chops off the hand of the luckless master of the prince's horse. Other scenes and revels succeed on Shrove Tuesday, or Fastern's E'en; when Proudfute, a good-natured boaster, who is always imitating the Smith, is mistaken for his prototype, and Walter Scott's Second Series of the Chronicles of the assassinated by Bonthron, in revenge for this wound. The Canongate.) corpse is found on the morning of Ash Wednesday, and the hardly appeased tumults in the city, occasioned by the gallant affair at Simon Glover's, are renewed against the reckless courtiers with greater fury than before. The rumour runs at first that Henry Smith has been murdered; which throws the Fair Maid, who had hitherto been coy and cold to his addresses, off her guard; and the following ensues:

selection which we are about to make from wand popular work, is as spirited a narrative proceeded even from the prolific and vigorous Sir Walter Scott, whose genius appears to be I of intellectual evergreen. He is as fresh, , and amusing now, as he was when he first dhis anonymous mask.

n seeing their fellow-creatures butcher each in the presence of applauding emperors and is, nobles, and canaille. As a highly-wrought te, however, it will be perused with deep inand in the delineation the hand of a master !prominently visible.

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cessation of breathing. Henry had remained at home, in spite of the general alarm which had reached his ears for a considerable time, fully determined to put himself in the way of no brawls that he could avoid; and it was only in compliance with a summons from the magistrates, which, as a burgher, he was bound to obey, that, taking his sword and buckler from the wall, he was about to go forth, for the first time, unwillingly, to pay his service, as his tenure all the town feuds, when the fighting work is so detestable bound him. It is hard,' he said, to be put forward in to Catharine. I am sure there are enough of wenches in Perth that say to their gallants, Go out-do your devoir bravely, and win your lady's grace;' and yet they send not for their lovers, but for me, who cannot do the duties who fights for the honour of his town; but this peevish of a man to protect a minstrel woman, or of a burgess Catharine uses me as if I were a brawler and bordeller !" Such were the thoughts which occupied his mind, when, as he opened his door to issue forth, the person dearest to his thoughts, but whom he certainly least expected to see, was present to his eyes, and dropped into his arms. His mixture of surprise, joy, and anxiety, did not deprive him of the presence of mind which the occasion demanded. To place Catharine Glover in safety, and recal her to her. self, was to be thought of before rendering obedience to the summons of the magistrates, however pressingly that had been delivered. He carried his lovely burden, as light as a feather, yet more precious than the same quantity of purest gold, into a small bedchamber which had been his mother's. It was the most fit for an invalid, as it looked into the garden, and was separated from the noise of the tumult.Here, Nurse Nurse Shoolbred-come quickcome for death and life-here is one wants thy help!" Up trotted the old dame. If it should but prove any one that will keep thee out of the scuffle-' for she also had been aroused by the noise, but what was her astopishment, when, placed in love and reverence on the bed of her late mistress, and supported by the athletic arms of her foster-son, she saw the apparently lifeless

"Catharine ran through the streets of Perth in a manner which, at another moment, would have brought on her the attention of every one who saw her hurrying on fancy, however, that his present work must be with a reckless impetuosity, wildly and widely different from the ordinary decency and composure of her step and red as an historical romance; in which the manner, and without the plaid, scarf, or mantle, which has taken very great liberties with plain mat-women of good,' of fair character and decent rank, universally carried around them, when they went abroad. act: we cannot suppose that such an exter- But, distracted as the people were, every one inquiring ng conflict as that here described, and which is, or telling the cause of the tumult, and most recounting it different ways, the negligence of her dress, and discom“Bellum ad internecionem," ever took place in posure of her manner, made no impression on any one; treated of by the author. It resembles rather and she was suffered to press forward on the path she had chosen, without attracting more notice than the other fesh main in a cock-pit, than a faithful record of males, who, stirred by anxious curiosity or fear, had come ing which was ever witnessed in Scotland in the out to inquire the cause of an alarm so general-it might be to seek for friends, for whose safety they were interested. f Robert III. There has been nothing like it As Catharine passed along, she felt all the wild influence e have ever read, since the bloody combats of of the agitating scene, and it was with difficulty she forbore from repeating the cries of lamentation and alarm man gladiators, when a half-civilized people, which were echoed around her. In the meantime, she e much too highly extolled, took a savage de-rushed rapidly on, embarrassed like one in a dream, with form of the Fair Maid of Perth. Catharine Glover!' she a strange sense of dreadful calamity, the precise nature of said; and, Holy Mother-a dying woman, as it would which she was unable to define, but which implied the seem!" Not so, old woman,' said her foster-son; the terrible consciousness, that the man who loved her so dear heart throbs-the sweet breath comes and returns! fondly, whose good qualities she so highly esteemed, and Come thou, that may aid her more meetly than I-bring whom she now felt to be dearer than perhaps she would water-essences-whatever thy old skill can devise. Hea before have acknowledged to her own bosom, was mur-ven did not place her in my arms to die, but to live for dered, and, most probably, by her means. herself and me.' With an activity which her age little "Without knowing what she sought, except the general promised, Nurse Shoolbred collected the means of restordesire to know the worst of the dreadful report, she hurried ing animation; for, like many women of the period, she forward to the very spot, which of all others her feelings understood what was to be done in such cases, nay, pos of the preceding day would have induced her to avoid. sessed a knowledge of treating wounds of an ordinary Who would, upon the evening of Shrovetide, have per- description, which the warlike propensities of her fostersuaded the proud, the timid, the shy, the rigidly decorous son kept in pretty constant exercise. 'Come now,' she Catharine Glover, that before mass on Ash Wednesday said, son Henry, unfold your arms from about my pashe should rush through the streets of Perth, making her tient-though she is worth the pressing and set thy arms way amidst tumult and confusion, with her hair unbound, at freedom to help me with what I want. Nay, I will not and her dress disarranged, to seek the house of that same insist on your quitting her hand, if you will beat the palm lover, who, she had reason to believe, had so grossly and gently, as the fingers unclose their clenched grasp.'book opens on St. Valentine's eve: King Robert indelicately neglected and affronted her, as to pursue I beat her slight beautiful hand!' said Henry; you low and licentious amour? were as well bid me beat a glass cup with a fore-hammer, ling his court in the Dominican convent at Perth; "At length, without any distinct idea of her own pur- as tap her fair palm with my horn-hard fingers. But the e become acquainted with the inhabitants of that pose, she stood before her lover's door, and knocked for fingers do unfold, and we will find a better way than beatho are necessary to the tale, especially with Katie admittance. The silence which succeeded the echoing of ing;' and he applied his lips to the pretty hand, whose r, whose rare beauty inspires all hearts, from that of her hasty summons, increased the alarm which had in motion indicated returning sensation. One or two deep Open,-open, sighs succeeded, and the Fair Maid of Perth opened her eir-apparent to Henry Wynd, the armourer, and duced her to take this desperate measure. Henry!' she cried. Open, if you yet live!-Open, if eyes, fixed them on her lover, as he kneeled by the bedchar, a Highland youth, apprentice to Simon Glover, you would not find Catharine Glover dead upon your side, and again sunk back on the pillow. As she with whose birth a mystery hangs, till he is discovered threshold!" As she cried thus franticly to ears which she drew not her hand from her lover's hold, or from his the only son of the head of Clan Kay. During the was taught to believe were stopped by death, the lover she grasp, we must in charity believe that the return to conatine revels, when chivalry bent at the shrine of invoked opened the door in person, just in time to prevent sciousness was not so complete as to make her aware that le loveliness with perfect devotion, though sometimes her sinking on the ground. The extremity of his ecstatic he abused the advantage, by pressing it alternately to his joy upon an occasion so unexpected, was qualified only by lips and his bosom. At the saine time we are compelled with perfect purity, the fair daughter of the Glover the wonder which forbade him to believe it real, and by to own, that the blood was colouring in her cheek, and an object of universal attraction. A midnight attempt his alarm at the closed eyes, half-opened and blanched that her breathing was deep and regular for a minute or rry her off, by Rothsay, and Ramorny and his other lips, total absence of complexion, and, apparently, total two during this relapse. The noise at the door began

shall, next week, continue our notice of the -as we must now proceed with the selection; together with the prefatory and intervening al notes, we copy from the Literary Gazette.

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now to grow much louder, and Henry was called for by
all his various names, of Smith, Gow, and Hal of the
Wynd, as Heathens used to summon their deities by
different epithets."
Simon Glover comes from the inquest upon Proudfute's

body to quicken his friend the Smith. hesitation which influenced others, he repaired to the par- father to the Highlands, and also of Simon Glover, who give me strength. Say yet-oh, say yet-shal, Unrestrained by the considerations of doubt and

66

the ingratitude of man. He hath given us the beauty this battle, you proffered even now to share your chi and fertility of the earth, and we have made the scene of with my daughter? Your power must depend his bounty a charnel-house and a battle-field. He hath you. You mistake, old man,' replied Eachin; fighting this combat, and in that Catharine can given us power over the elements, and skill to erect houses Catharine to look kindly on the earnest love for comfort and defence, and we have converted them into it would carry me against the front of the ene dens for robbers and ruffians." The flight of this holy the mettle of a war-horse. Overwhelming as of weakness is, the feeling that Catharine looked lour; and having overheard the bustling of Dame Shool- is accused of heresy, changes the scene, and brings us into mine if we gain the combat; and not the Gaz bred, he took the privilege of intimacy to ascend to the contact with the wild inhabitants of that wild region. himself, whose heart is of a piece with his a bed-room, and, with the slight apology of- I crave your The funeral of Gilchrist Maclan, the chief of the clan went to battle so light as I shall do! One strong pardon, good neighbour,' he opened the door, and entered is conquered by another.'- This is folly, Co the apartment, where a singular and unexpected sight Quhele or Kay, and the banquet which follows it, are awaited him. At the sound of his voice, May Catharine detailed with all the spirit of the author. The natural your kindred, do as much to stir your courage Cannot the recollections of your interest, your s experienced a revival much speedier than Dame Shool-panorama on Loch Tay, the boat procession, the wailing thoughts of a brent-browed lass? Fie upon your bred's restoratives had been able to produce; and the of the mourners, the harsh notes of the national bagpipe You tell me only what I have told myself, b paleness of her complexion changed into a deep glow of sweetened into music by distance, the installation of in vain,' replied Eachin, with a sigh. It is o the most lovely red. She pushed her lover from her with both her hands, which, until this minute, her want of Eachin, or Conachar, in his father's seat, are splendid the timid stag is paired with the doe, that he is consciousness, or her affection, awakened by the events of instances of graphic and descriptive powers. Here, how- Highland cailliachs will say, from the milk of t and dangerous. Be it from constitution-be the morning, had well nigh abandoned to his caresses. ever, the most important point is a midnight interview doe-be it from iny peaceful education, and the exe Henry Smith, bashful as we know him, stumbled as he between the youthful chieftain and his quondam master of your strict restraint-be it, as you think, from rose up; and none of the party were without a share of the Glover; in which the former, after having been re-heated fancy, which paints danger yet more ca confusion, excepting Dame Shoolbred, who was glad to and ghastly than it is in reality, I cannot tel make some pretext to turn her back to the others, in order fused the hand of Catharine, confides his fatal secret to know my failing, and-yes, it must be said!that she might enjoy a laugh at their expense, which she the astonished citizen. dread that I cannot conquer it, that, could I have felt herself utterly unable to restrain, and in which the consent to my wishes on such terms, I would a Glover, whose surprise, though great, was of short dura. make a pause, renounce the rank I have assuza, tion, and of a joyful character, sincerely joined. Now, retire into humble life.'- What, turn glove a by good St. John,' he said, I thought I had seen a sight Conachar!' said Simon; this beats the legend 5. this morning that would cure me of laughter, at least till pin. Nay, nay, your hand was not framed t Lent was over; but this would make me curl my cheek you shall spoil me no more doe-skins.'-' Jest pr if I were dying. Why, here stands honest Henry Smith, Eachin, I am serious. If I cannot labour, I wa who was lamented as dead, and tolled out for from every wealth enough to live without it. They will proc steeple in town, alive, merry, and, as it seems from his recreant with horn and war-pipe: let them du s ruddy complexion, as like to lively as any man in Perth. rine will love me the better that I have prete And here is my precious daughter, that yesterday would paths of peace to those of bloodshed; and father speak of nothing but the wickedness of the wights that shall teach us to pity and forgive the world, vas haunt profane sports, and protect glee-maidens,-ay, she load us with reproaches that wound not. I shal who set St. Valentine and St. Cupid both at defiance, happiest of men; Catharine will enjoy all that here she is, turned a glee-maiden herself for what I can affection can confer upon her, and will be f see! Truly, I am glad to see that you, my good Dame apprehension of the sights and sounds of he Shoolbred, who give way to no disorder, have been of this your ill-assorted match would have prepared fr loving party. You do me wrong, my dearest father you, Father Glover, shall occupy the chimneysaid Catharine, as if about to weep, I came here with far happiest and most honoured man that everdifferent expectations than you suppose. I only came Eachin-I prithee, hold,' said the Glover; there because-because- Because you expected to find a dead with which this discourse must terminate, bura lover,' said her father; and you have found a living one, and I would speak a word in my turn, and plain c who can receive the tokens of your regard and return them. best. Though it may vex, or perhaps enrage you Now, were it not a sin, I could find in my heart to thank end these visions by saying at once-Catharine can Heaven that thou hast been surprised at last into owning yours. A glove is the emblem of faith, and a u thyself a woman-Simon Glover is not worthy to have an craft should, therefore, less than any other, break zu absolute saint for his daughter.-Nay, look not so piteously, Catharine's hand is promised-promised to a man vi nor expect condolence from me! Only I will try not to you may hate, but whom you must honour-to den look merry, if you will be pleased to stop your tears, or Armourer. The match is fitting by degrees, agremi confess them to be tears of joy. If I were to die for their mutual wishes, and I have given my prems such a confession,' said poor Catharine, I could not tell best to be plain at once-resent my refusal as yo what to call them. Only believe, dear father, and let am wholly in your power-but nothing shall ma Henry believe, that I would never have come hither, break my word. The Glover spoke thus decided unless-unless Unless you had thought that Henry cause he was aware, from experience, that the could not come to you,' said her father. And now shake table disposition of his former apprentice yielded. hands in peace and concord, and agree as Valentines cases, to stern and decided resolution. Yet, releas where he was, it was with some feelings of far saw the dying flame leap up, and spread a fast while his eye rolled like that of a maniac inte on the visage of Eachin, which seemed pale a The light instantly sunk down and died, and a momentary terror, lest he should have to disp life with the youth, whom he knew to be capab lent actions when highly excited, however short a p commenced. He was relieved by the voice of a his nature could support the measures which bu who muttered, in a hoarse and altered tone,-Les we have spoken this night rest in silence for ever: bringest it to light, thou wert better dig thine own g Thus speaking, the door of the hut opened, adit crossed it for an instant, the hurdle door was then gleam of moonshine. The form of the retiring and the hut left in darkness."

·

"I understand your tale,' said Eachin; but I shall find it difficult to make you credit mine, knowing the race of which I am descended, and especially him whom we have this day laid in the tomb-well that he lies where he will never learn what you are now to hear! Look, my father! the light which I bear grows short and pale; a few minutes will extinguish it, but, before it expires. the hideous tale will be told. Father, I am a coward! It is said, at last, and the secret of my disgrace is in the keeping of another !'-The young man sunk back in a species of syncope, produced by the agony of his mind as he made the fatal communication. The Glover, moved as well by fear as by compassion, applied himself to recal him to life, and succeeded in doing so, but not in restoring him to composure. He hid his face with his hands, and his tears flowed plentifully and bitterly. For our Lady's sake be composed,' said the old man, and recal the vile word! I know you better than yourself, you are no coward, but only too young and inexperienced; ay, and somewhat too quick of fancy, to have the steady valour of a bearded man. I would hear no other man say that of you, Conachar, without giving him the lie. You are no coward; I have seen high sparks of spirit fly from you even on slight enough provocation.' High sparks of pride and passion!' said the unfortunate youth; but when saw you them supported by the resolution that should have backed them? The sparks you speak of, fell on my dastardly heart as on a piece of ice, which could catch fire from nothing if my offended pride urged me to strike, my weakness of mind prompted me the next moment to fly. Want of habit,' said Simon; it is by clambering over walls that youths learn to scale precipices. Begin with slight feuds, exercise daily the arms of your country in tourney with your followers. And what leisure is there for this?' exclaimed the young chief, starting as if something horrid had occurred to his imagination. How many days are there betwixt this Suspicion of Proudfute's murder falls on Ramorny and hour and Palm Sunday, and what is to chance then? A his people: the former is assoilzied on the testimony of poor bear that is chained to his stake. Sixty living men, list enclosed, from which no man can stir, more than the the Prince; but the latter are put to the ordeal of bier- the best and fiercest (one alone excepted!) which Albyn right, that is, to attest their innocency, by oath, in the can send down from her mountains, all athirst for each church, where the corpse is placed on the altar before other's blood, while a king and his nobles, and shouting them. This ceremony is well described: Bonthron re- thousands besides, attend, as at a theatre, to encourage fuses the appeal, and challenges single combat instead. thicker, faster, redder; they rush on each other like madtheir demoniac fury! Blows clang, and blood flows He is opposed by the Smith, as the widow's chosen cham- men; they tear each other like wild beasts; the wounded pion, and defeated. Upon this he confesses the murder, are trodden to death amid the feet of their companions! but is suborned by his master Ramorny and Dwining to Blood ebbs, arms become weak; but there must be accuse the Duke of Rothsay of having employed him: no parley, no truce, no interruption, while any of the he is then borne to execution, but saved from the gallows- ing behind battlements; no fighting with missile weaHere is no crouchdeath by the devices of the fiendish Pottingar. The Prince pons,-all is hand to hand, till the hands can no longer is, at the instigation of Albany, placed in ward of the be raised to maintain the ghastly conflict. If such a field Constable Errol. Of the unhappy state of the country is so horrible in idea, what think you it will be in reality ?' at this period, a reforming monk, whose discourses have The Glover remained silent. I say again, what think converted the beautiful Catharine, and led even her cau- It is hard to be the descendant of a lofty line the son of you?' I can only pity you, Conachar,' said Simon. tious father to speak rather irreverently of the church, a noble father-the leader by birth of a gallant array draws a hasty but striking outline. "When I behold," and yet to want, or think you want, (for still I trust the he says, "this rich and varied land, with its castles, fault lies much in a quick fancy, that over-estimates dan churches, convents, stately palaces, and fertile fields, these extensive woods, and that noble river, I know not, my daughter, whether most to admire the bounty of God or

should.' 999

maimed wretches remain alive!

ger,) to want that dogged quality which is possessed by
hound that is worth a mess of offal. But flow, every
every game-cock that is worth a handful of corn,
it, that with such a consciousness of inability to fight in

In a subsequent scene, where a doe is killed in bang Eachin also confesses his moral infirmity to Torqul, mancy, and turns all his thoughts to avert its effects, valiant and devoted foster-father, who imputes it to ne save his chief on the day of battle.

Meanwhile, Rothsay is induced by Ramorny to fy f Perth, and seek refuge in Falkland, whither Cathart a seduced, (charged with heretical opinions, as well as the father,) under the plea of being placed within the prote

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