with well-deserved applause.It is true, we may have bech instrumental towards frightening Vestris a little, but this was exactly what we meant to be, and we do not auticipate the downfall of the drama àmong us, though-we should never again behold the light of her counte nanceir bra! Jennĺs » POOR, reckless bird! you'll rue the hour**** Unfit on feckless wing to scour Though, like the lark, you hope to tower, I ferly sair you thought na shame To play the madly losing game, On Anna's lap you sat to rest, And sometimes fondly made your nest Sweets, might have made a monarch blest, Your comfort was their daily care, Left a' your friends wi' hearts fu' sair, Frae morn to e'en you blithely sang, The Edinburgh Theatrical Fund Society are to have ar public dinner early in the ensuing year, for the benefit of the Fund. This society, of whose plan and purposes we highly approve, has existed since the year 1819, but was remodelled upon a more comprehensive scale in 1827. Our readers will not have forgotten the splendid public dinner which took place upon that occasion, attended by upwards of three hundred gentlemen, with Sir Walter Scott in the chair. It was, perhaps, the most memorable public dinner which has ever been seen in Edinburgh, for it was there that the Author of Waverley" first spoke to his countrymen, and said, “ I am the man ;" and when the youngest who were present are old and grey, it will be something for them to tell their grandchildren that they themselves saw the iron-mask removed from the wizard's face, and heard from his own lips the confession of his immortality. To a certain extent this event was extrinsic to the occasion, but it is enough to hallow with delightful associations any subsequent dinner of the same society. We have no doubt, therefore, that whether Sir Walter Scott, or the Duke of Buccleuch, or Lord Elcho, or any one else, be in the chair, the meeting will be numerous and brilliant. We are glad to know that the affairs of the Fund are in a prosperous condition, supported principally by the annual subscriptions of non-resident members, and by many handsome donations which have been received from various quarters. The resident members do not exceed fifteen or sixteen, and consist of the most respectable portion of the company here, who contribute each one shilling a-week during the theatrical season. The affairs of the society are managed by a committee, consisting of Messrs Pritchard, Denham, G. Stanley, and Mackay, the latter acting as treasurer. Mrs H. Siddons and Mr Murray are the trustees, in whose hands are deposited the funds for behoof of the society. The annual subscription to non-resident members is two guineas; and the benefit to be derived from becoming either a resident or non-resident member, is thus expressed in the schedule* of “Rules and Regulations :”—“ Any Member of this Society who shall have regularly contributed to its fund for the space of seven years, shall, on being incapacitated by age, accident, or infirmity, to exercise his or her dus|21) ties as an actor or actress, be entitled to an annuity of forty pounds from the Society, unless his or her indepen-` dent income shall exceed forty pounds per annum, în which event the annuity given by this Society shall suffer an abatement equal to such excess. But should any part of that additional income be derived from the industrious exercise, by the claimant, of any faculty or talent, then the claimant shall be allowed half of the annual sum so saved to the fund." To this is added another rule:— Any Member of this Society who shall have regularly contributed for seven years, shall, upon attaining the age of sixty, if a male, and of fifty-five, if a female, be entitled to claim upon the ground of age," it being understood that no person who is above the age of forty-five at the time of application can be admitted a member. It is perfectly clear that the objects of the Society are in the highest degree benevolent and useful, and ought to meet | with every proper encouragement. In the words of Sir | et Walter Scott," It would be ungrateful and® unkind were those who have sacrificed their youth to our amusez | -titort to el ment, not to receive the reward due to them, but be reduced to every kind of hardship in their old age. Who can think of poor Falstaff going to bed without his cup of sack, or of Macbeth feeding on bones as marrowless as those of Banquo ?? We shall be glad on all occasions to lend our assistance towards forwarding the views of the Theatrical Fund Society. Did Cerberus, ས་སྐྱེས་ན་ When teeting out, in wanton play, *rj 1 When gay green leaves the woods adorn, And spread your plumes, On gowany braes to sit and sing, ....'. To hap the wild-rose wi' your wing,→ ́{" Poor, flighter'd thing! you little kenir i nerod Nae doubt you think your freedom sweet ; Your feathers daidle: Twad ill befit your slender feet... OUR readers will be glad to learn, that a third volume of the Cabinet, or the Selected Beauties of Literature, is in preparation. It will be published in monthly Parts; and, from the acknowledged taste of its editor, Mr Aitken, there is every reason to believe that it will be, if possible, a still more delightful volume than either of the two which have preceded it. One of our enterprising Edinburgh publishers has the following new works in preparation :-An Historical Account of Discoveries and Travels in North America; including the United States, Canada, the Shores of the Polar Sea, and the Voyages in Search of a NorthWest Passage; with Observations on Emigration. By Hugh Murray, Esq., F.R.S.E. Illustrated by a Map of North America. 2 vols. 8vo.-Political Economy; an Enquiry into the Natural Grounds of Right to Vendible Property, or Wealth. By Samuel Read, 8voMemoirs of Rear-Admiral Paul Jones; now first compiled from his original Journals, Correspondence, and other Papers, brought from Paris by his Heirs at the time of his Death, and from his Letters to his Relations in Scotland. Including an Account of his Services un der Prince Potemkin, in the celebrated Russian Campaign against . the Turks, in the Black Sea, in 1788. 2 vols. 12mo.-Studies in Natural History; exhibiting a popular View of the most striking and interesting Objects of the Material World. By William Rhind, Mem-, ber of the Royal Medical, and Royal Physical Societies of Edinburgh. Illustrated by Engravings. 12mo.-Oliver Cromwell, a Poem. In Three Books.-A Glance at London, Brussels, and Paris. By the same Author. There is announced, for early publication, a work, entitled Celtic Manners, as preserved among the Scots Highlanders; being an Aecount, Historical and Descriptive, of the Inhabitants, Antiquities, and National Peculiarities of Scotland, more particularly of the northern, or Gaelic parts of the country, where the singular habits of the aboriginal Celts are most tenaciously retained. By James Logan, Corresponding Member of the Society of the Antiquaries of Scotland. In one thick volume, demy 8vo, illustrated by numerous Engravings, and accurate Drawings of the Tartans, &c. of the various Highland ' Clans. Shortly will appear, The Home Book; or Young Housekeeper's Manual. A Complete System of Domestic Economy, calculated for. the guidance of persons having the management of a household of either great or small extent; and containing useful rules for the ge neral government of a family; with a simple and comprehensive system of Household Accounts, and valuable directions for effectually checking the many impositions practised upon respectable families, by servants, &c. The whole deduced from forty-five years' practical experience, by a Grandmother. The Athenaid, or Modern Grecians, a Poem; with Notes charac teristic of the manners and customs of the Greeks and Turks, by Henry J. Bradfield, is announced. Sir Walter Scott's forthcoming History of Scotland, from the ear Iliest historic records down to the union of the crowns, is not, like the series of the Tales of a Grandfather, avowedly selected and adapted for young persons, but was undertaken with a different view, and for a different class of readers. It is intended to form a part of the History of England, Scotland, and Ireland, in six small octavo volumes, which we have already announced-Sir James Mackintosh being engaged for England, and Moore for Ireland, which work he will com mence as soon as he publishes his long-promised Life of Byron, now nearly ready.. LITERARY CRITICISM. the piece is sent as a contribution to the Keepsake, where its demerits may be hidden amid the beauties of more valuable articles." of Aspen," may be stated in a few words. Rudiger, The plot of this tragedy, which is entitled "The House Baron of Aspen, an old German warrior, is married to Isabella, and by her has two sons, George and Henry. Isabella, when very young, had been married against her will to Arnolf of Ebersdorf, and it was not till his death that she was able to espouse her first love, Rudiger. At confined, by a recent accident, to his castle, while his sons, George and Henry, are in the field against their neighbour, Roderic, Count of Maltingen, the hereditary enemy of the House of Aspen. They give him battle, and return victorious, to the great joy of their father, and the no less joy of his niece, Gertrude, who is betrothed to Henry, the younger of the brothers. George, however, notwithstanding his success, brings back with him a heavy heart, for his attendant, Martin, having been severely wounded in the fight, and imagining himself at the point of death, had informed him that Arnolf, his mother's first busband, had not died in the common course of nature, but had been carried off by poison administered to him by Isabella herself through the agency of Martin. Laden with this terrible secret, and scarcely knowing whether to believe it or not, especially when he considered the character for sanctity and good deeds which his mo ther had acquired, George seeks an interview with her, and, after an interesting and well-wrought scene, becomes convinced of his mother's guilt. Meantime, Martin had been taken prisoner by Roderic, the hostile chief, who alsó, through this means, becomes acquainted with Isabella's crime. The knowledge at once points out to him a method The first article in the volume is a Tragedy in prose, by which he might be effectually revenged upon the House by Sir Walter Scott, which is of itself enough to secure of Aspen for its late successes. Roderic is an influential the success of the work. In a short prefatory notice, Sir member of the Invisible Tribunal—a secret association of Walter informs us, that this tragedy was written nearly a very dangerous kind, which then existed in Germany, thirty years ago, and was modelled upon the German and of which George of Aspen was likewise a member. school of dramatic writing, which at that time had be- One of the rules of this association was, that its members come fashionable, in consequence of the impression which bound themselves by most solemn oaths to conceal from the productions of Goethe and Schiller had made upon the the Tribunal no crime whatever which might come to British public. The story was partly taken from a Ger- their knowledge, though perpetrated by those who were man romance, but the scenes and incidents were much nearest and dearest to them. The penalty of concealment altered. It was at one time on the point of being pro- was death; and where there was no concealment, the duced at Drury Lane, when John Kemble and his sister, person accused was dragged before those secret avengers, Mrs Siddons, would have supported the principal parts; tried, and, if found guilty, executed on the spot. Roderia, but some doubts whether the plot was such as to secure therefore, loses no time in summoning a meeting of the its success with an English audience ultimately prevent- Tribunal, imagining that he would thus have both George ed its representation, and it has lain in neglect and obscu- in his power, who could scarcely be expected to denounce rity ever since. "Very lately," says Sir Walter," the his mother, and Isabella also, who, through the evidence writer chanced to look over the scenes of this work, with of Martin, could easily be convicted. As soon as George feelings very different from those of the adventurous pe- received the summons to attend the meeting, he perceived Fiod of his literary life during which they had been writ-its object, and that his only chance of saving his mother ten, and yet with such as perhaps a reformed libertine might regard the illegitimate production of an early amour. There is something to be ashamed of certainly; but, after all, paternal vanity whispers that the child has a resemblance to the father." "Being of too small a size or consequence," he modestly adds, " for a separate publication, THIS is the most costly of all the Annuals. It sells for a guinea, and the others for twelve shillings. It ought, therefore, to be superior to any of them, and this year we think it is. The embellishments, of which there are eighteen, including the presentation plate, are truly beauti-the commencement of the drama, we find the old Baron ful; and the literary contents, especially in so far as re⚫gards the prose, are highly interesting, and of much intrinsic merit. The illustrations we shall not at present stop to describe, being well aware that any description could but feebly convey to the reader the pleasure to be derived from the actual contemplation of works of art so splendid and select. Wilkie's picture, however, of the "Princess Doria washing the feet of the Pilgrims," we must barely mention; as also "The Bride," by Leslie, the" Widow of Ems," by Deveria, and the "Prophet of St Paul's," by Chalon, chefs-d'œuvre which would reflect credit on any age or country. With the last, in particular, we are charmed to an extraordinary degree. Much as we have admired some of Chalon's works, we did not think he was able to produce any thing so fine as this. The female figure is almost perfect in its loveliness, and contrasts with the Black Page and the old Astrologer, both exquisitely conceived, in a manner too delightful ever to be forgotten after being once seen. Charles Heath has bestowed all his labour upon the engraving, and every one knows, that when Charles Heath labours, it is with almost unequalled delicacy of touch, and invariably with an effect and a success correspondent. depended on his being previously able to get the witness Martin out of the hands of Roderic. With this view he dispatches a minstrel, who had lately come to the castle of Aspen, and who, by changing his dress with Martin, and remaining himself in his stead, succeeds in enabling the former to effect his escape. Roderic is, of course, ). Eldest Mem. Our voice is, that the perjured brother merits death. Rod. Accuser, thou hast heard the voice of the assembly; name the criminal. Accuser. George, Baron of Aspen. (4 murmur in the assembly.) much exasperated when he discovers the stratagem, and, venging the murder of his brother. It is here that the fourth act closes, and the catastrophe is wound up in the fifth, at the meeting of the Tribunal. We shall extract a part of this ably-executed scene: ACT V.-SCENE I. The subterranean chapel of the Castle of Griefenhaus. It seems deserted, and in decay. There are four entrances, each defended by an iron portal. At each door stands a warder, clothed in black, and masked, armed with a naked sworil. During the whole scene they remain motionless on their posts. In the centre of the chapel is the ruinous altar, half sunk in the ground, on which lie a large book, a dagger, and a coil of ropes, beside two lighted tapers. Antique stone benches of different heights around the chapel. In the back scene is seen a dilapidated entrance into the Sacristy, which is quite dark. Various members of the Invisible Tribunal enter by the four different doors of the chapel. Each whispers something as he passes the Warder, which is answered by an inclination of the head. The costume of the members is a long black robe capable of muffling the face: some wear it in this manner; others have their faces uncovered, unless on the entrance of a stranger: they place themselves in profound silence upon the stone benches. Enter COUNT RODERIC dressed in a scarlet cloak of the same form with those of the other members. He takes his place on the most elevated bench. Rod. Warders, secure the doors! (The doors are barred with great care.) Rod. Herald, do thy duty! (Members all rise—Herald -stands by the altar.) Herald. Members of the Invisible Tribunal, who judge in secret and avenge in secret, like the Deity, are your hearts free from malice, and your hands from blood-guiltiness? (All the Members incline their heads.) Rod. God pardon our sins of ignorance, and preserve us from those of presumption! (Again the Members solemnly incline their heads.); Her. To the east, and to the west, and to the north, and to the south, I raise my voice; wherever there is treason, wherever there is blood-guiltiness, wherever there is sacrilege, sorcery, robbery, or perjury, there let this curse alight, and pierce the marrow and the bone. Raise, then, your voices, and say with me, Woe! woe! unto offenders! All. Woe! woe! (Members sit down.) Her. He who knoweth of an unpunished crime, let him stand forth, as bound by his oath when his hand was laid upon the dagger and upon the cord, and call to the assembly for vengeance. Member. (Rises, his face covered.) Vengeance! Vengeance! Vengeance! Rod. Upon whom dost thou invoke vengeance? Accuser. Upon a brother of this order, who is forsworn and perjured to its laws. Rod. Relate his crime. Accuser. This perjured brother was sworn, upon the steel and upon the cord, to denounce malefactors to the judgment-seat from the four quarters of heaven, though it were the spouse of his heart, or the son whom beloved as the apple of his eye; yet did he conceal the guilt of one who. was dear unto him; he folded up the crime from the knowledge of the Tribunal; he removed the evidence of guilt, and withdrew the criminal from justice. What does his perjury deserve? Rod. Accuser, come before the altar; lay thy hand upon the dagger and the cord, and swear to the truth of thy accusation. Accuser. (His hand on the altar.) I swear! should it be found false? Accuser, I will Rod. Brethren, what is your sentence? (The Members confer a moment in whispers a silence.) A Member (suddenly rising.) I am ready, according to holy laws, to swear, by the steel and the cord, that George of Aspen merits not this accusation, and that it is a foul calumny. Accuser. Rash man! gagest thou an oath so lightly? of innocence and virtue. Member. I gage it not lightly. I proffer it in the cause Accuser. What if George of Aspen should not himself deny the charge? Member. Then would I never trust man again. Accuser. Hear him, then, bear witness against himself. (Throws back his mantle.) Rod. Baron George of Aspen! Geo. The same-prepared to do penance for the crime of which he stands self-accused. whom thou hast rescued from justice: on that condition Rod. Still, canst thou disclose the name of the criminal alone, thy brethren may save thy life. Geo. Thinkest thou I would betray, for the safety of my yoke of iron. A light beams on my soul. Woe to those. to judge and to avenge in secret, without favour and with- jured-the penalty of perjury is death! Rod. Father of the Secret Judges eldest among those eyes are dim, and my hand is feeble; soon shall I be called Eldest Mem. I am fourscore and eight years old. My to the throne of my Creator. How shall I stand there, stained with the blood of such a man? Rod. How wilt thou stand before that throne, loaded nal be upon us and ours! with the guilt of a broken oath? The blood of the crimi Eldest Mem. So be it, in the name of God! (He takes the dagger from the altar, goes slowly towards the back scene, and reluctantly enters the Sacristy.) Eldest Judge. (From behind the scene)Dost thou forgive me? Geo. (Behind)-I do! (He is heard to fall heavily.) (Re-enter the old Judge from the Sacristy. He lays on the altar the bloody dagger.) Rod. Hast thou done thy duty? Eldest Mem. I have. (He faints.) Rod. He swoons-remove him. (He is assisted off the stage. During this, four members enter the Sacristy, and bring out a bier covered with a pall, which they place on the steps of the altar. A deep silence.) secret, like the Deity, God keep your thoughts from evil, Rod. Judges of evil, dooming in secret, and avenging in and your hands froin guilt!" Isabella is afterwards brought in and acensed by Bertram. Finding that there is no hope of escape, she stabs ted by the Tribunal on the old Baron Rudiger, are interherself and dies. Further cruelties, about to be perpetrarupted by the arrival of the Duke of Bavaria, who ba|nishes Roderic and Bertram from the empire; and the reader being allowed to suppose that Henry will ulti mately be married to Gertrude, both of whom are subor- more. Athenian world. The circulars are arrived, and chculating like the vortices (or vortex's) of Descartes. Still I have As to the merits of this composition, it will be evident, a due care of the needful, and keep a look-out a-head. As my even from the brief sketch we have now given, that it is with all men's who have lived to see that every guinea is a notions upon the score of moneys coincide with yours, and entirely German, both in its conception and execution. philosopher's stone, or at least his touchstone, you will By this we mean that the truth and simplicity of nature doubt me the less when I pronounce my firm belief that are rendered subordinate to strong effect and strange situ- cash is virtue. I cannot reproach myself with much expeudation, and that, for the sake of presenting a sort of meta-iture, my only extra expense (and it is more than I have physical puzzle in the character of Isabella, whom we spent upon myself) being a loan of two hundred and fifty cannot help liking, though she is a murderess, all probabi- pounds to, and fifty pounds' worth of furniture which I have bought him, and a boat which I am building for lity is disregarded. There is a morbid gloom cast over the whole production, which is disagreeable, because it is myself at Genoa, which will cost about a hundred pounds not like human life. At the same time, we readily grant But to return. I am determined to have all the mothat this is the fault of the school from which Sir Walter neys I can, whether by my own funds, or succession, or Scott borrowed, and it was a fault which, under the cir- lawsuit, or MSS., or any lawful means whatever. I will cumstances, he could not avoid. In other respects, the pay (though with the sincerest reluctance) my remaining play is well conceived, and the individual scenes are spi- creditors, and every man of law, by instaliments, from the ritedly filled up. It would act well, and we are quite in Mr Hanson's letter, on the demand of moneys for the awards of my arbitrators. I recommend to you the notice sure that, considering the present reputation of its author, Rochdale tolls. Above all, I recommend my interests to any manager who brings it upon the stage, will find the your honourable worship. Recollect, too, that I expect speculation a highly profitable one. We believe it was some moneys for the various MSS., (no matter what ;) and, stated, in the case of Lord Byron's tragedies, that no in- in short, Rem, quocunque modo, Rem! The noble feeljunction could be granted against the performance of any ing of cupidity grows upon us with our years. published play; and why, therefore, might not the mana"Yours ever and truly, ger of the Theatre Royal here commence his winter campaign in November with this tragedy? He may depend upon it, it would have a run. There is abundance of melo-dramatic interest, and the fact of its being by Sir Walter Scott would fill the house for many nights. The parts, too, could be exceedingly well cast with his present company. Murray himself should play the old Baron, Rudiger; Miss Jarman or Mrs H. Siddons, Isabella; Vandenhoff or Barton, George of Aspen; Denham, Roderic; Montague Stanley, Henry, and the other inferior parts 'could be well filled up. This is worth thinking of either here or in London; but to get the start is the great thing. The article next in interest in the Keepsake, consists of nine unpublished Letters of Lord Byron, the three last of which are from Greece. We shall select the two we like most, which were written from Italy, and are principally upon literary topics: TWO LETTERS BY LORD BYRON. "Pisa, Feb. 6, 1822. "My Dear - Try back the deep lane,' till we find a publisher for the Vision ;' and if none such is to be found, print fifty copies at my expense, distribute them amongst my acquaintance, and you will soon see that the booksellers will publish them even if we opposed them. That they are now afraid is natural; but I do not see that I ought to give way on that account. I know nothing of Rivington's Remonstrance,' by the Eminent Churchman;' but I suppose he wants a living. I once heard of a preacher at Kentish Town against Cain. The same outcry was raised against Priestley, Hume, Gibbon, Voltaire, and all the men who dared to put tithes to the question. . ་་{; "NOEL BYRON." "Genoa, November, 1822. "My Dear—I have finished the twelfth canto of Don Juan, which I will forward when copied. With the sixth, seventh, and eighth in one volume, and the ninth, form two volumes, of about the same size as the two former. tenth, eleventh, and twelfth in another, the whole may There are some good things in them, as perhaps may be allowed. Perhaps one volume had better be published with one publisher, and the other with another; it would be a new experiment: or one in one month, and another in the What thinkest thou? Murray, next, or both at once. (guineas) a-canto for as many as I might choose to write. long after the 'piracies,' offered me a thousand pounds He has since departed from this proposal, for it was too much, and I would not take advantage of it. You must, however, use your own judgment with regard to the MSS., and let me know what you propose; presuming always→→ what may at least be but a presumption that the seven new cantos are, on the whole, equal to the five former. Suppose Hunt, or somebody else, were to publish one canto aweek, upon the same size and paper, to correspond with the various former editions? but this is merely as a vision, and may be very foolish, for aught I know. I have read the defence of Cain, which is very good; who can be the author? As to myself, I shall not be deterred by any outcry; your present public hate me, but they shall not interrupt the march of my mind, nor prevent me from telling those who are attempting to trample on all thought, that their thrones shall yet be rocked to their foundations. It is Madame de Stael who says, 'that all talent has a propensity to attack the strong.' I have never flattered-whether it be or be not a proof of talent. "I have just seen the illustrious, who came to visi"I have got 's pretended reply, to which I am sur- tate me here. I had not seen him these ten years. He had prised that you do not allude. What remains to be done, is a black wig, and has been made a knight for writing against to call him out. The question is, would he come? For, if the Queen. He wants a diplomatic situation, and seems he would not, the whole thing would appear ridiculous, if likely to want it. He found me thinner even than in 1813; I were to take a long and expensive journey to no purpose. for since my late illness at Lerici, in my way here, I have You must be my second, and, as such, I wish to consult subsided into my more meagre outline, and am obliged to you. I apply to you as one well versed in the duello or Mo-be very abstinent, by medical advice, on account of liver nomachie. Of course, I shall come to England as privately and what not. But to the point, or, at least, my point, în was possible, and leave it (supposing that I was the survivor) mentioning this new chevalier. Ten years ago I fent him in the same manner, having no other object which could a thousand pounds, on condition that he would not go to bring me to that country except to settle quarrels accumu- the Jews. Now, as Mr is a purchaser of bonds, will lated during my absence. he purchase this of me? or will any body else, at á discount? "By the last post I transmitted to you a letter upon some Rochdale toll business, from which there are moneys in prospect. My agent says two thousand pounds, but supposing it to be only one, or even one hundred, still they be moneys, and I have lived long enough to have an exceeding respect for the smallest current coin of any realm, or the least sum, which, although I may not want it myself, may do something for others who may need it more than I. They say that knowledge is power,' -I used to think so; but I now know that they meant money and when Socrates declared,that all he knew was, that he knew nothing,' he merely intended to declare, that he had not a drachm in the I have been invited by the Americans on board of their squadron here, and received with the greatest kindness, and rather too much ceremony. They have asked me to sit for my picture to an American artist now in Florence," As I was preparing to depart, an American lady took a rose which I wore from me, and said that she wished to send something which I had about me to America. They showed me two American editions of my poems, and all kinds of attention and good-will. I also hear that, as an author, I am in high request in Germany. All this is some compensation for the desertion of the English! Would you write a German line to Goethe for me, explaining the omission |