when he is unemployed, and which enables him to maintain with less inequality the fearful struggle of laborious poverty against exacting wealth. From this general state of things arises a degree of happiness not to be disdained even if attended with no other advantage."

We may here remind the reader, that on this principle the plan of the benevolent Mr. HALL is founded, which he is endeavouring to put in practice at Lindfield in Sussex. This philanthropist however relies so far on the industry and prudence of the labouring class, as to make it a part of his calculation, that every owner of one of his comfortable cottages, with an acre of land, shall pay a rent sufficient to remunerate the capitalist for the purchase and building; for unless that be practicable, it is obvious that no such plan will ever be adopted in Britain, where the tendency of things is daily to depress more and more the labourer. But if Mr. HALI. shall be borne out by experience in his estimate of the strength of the powerful stimuli-comfort, and a share of independence--which he proposes to apply to the minds of his humble tenants, the result will be invaluable, even if it only serve to place in the most convincing light the happy effect of a reasonable portion of domestic comfort and ease upon the industry and frugality of the labouring class. In contending, in opposition to the majority of the English political economists, that abundant capital is alone the creator of large farms, and that the law of primogeniture has not the same tendency, M. de STAEL finds as usual in poor Ireland a rich mine of evidence: "The law of succession is nearly the same in Ireland as in England: yet these two countries stand at the opposite extremities of the agricultural scale. Why is this, if not that in one large capitals have produced large farms, while in the other, capital having fled before the face of oppression, proprietors have been obliged to divide their land

into small farms?

The comparison between England and France in regard to population is not less forcible:

"The English economists, in general so able at observing facts and drawing just inferences from them, have their minds for the most part so warped on the question of the division of property, that the most palpable truths escape them. The population of France in 1789, according to the reports of the Constituent Assembly, was 26,300,000; it is now about 30.000.000. This certain English writers represent to us as an alarming fact; while they forget that the number of inhabitants of England and Wales has risen from 9.168.000 to 12,218,000. Thus the population of France has increased fourteen per cent, in thirty-five years, amounting to eight per ce. in twenty years; and during the same twenty years the increase of the population in England has been thirty-three per cent or four times as much. Such a rapid increase sufficiently proves, that the concentration of landed property has not all the efficacy that is ascribed to it, in keeping up a due balance between the quantity of food and number of its consumers. I will even go farther: I will venture to assert, that entails and the law of primogeniture have a tendency to increase the number of children in the higher classes, nearly in the same way as the poor rates tend to the augmentation of indigent families; namely, by preventing the father from cautiously looking forward to the lot that awaits his children. Under the system of equal division, a man would not have a greater number of children than he could make provision for: under that of promigeniture, he is sure that the splendour of his name will be maintained by the eldest son, and his vanity is satisfied. This sentiment, so common among the wealthy class, evea in England, ceases with him to operate in aid of prudence; and the age or health of

his wife alone limits the number of his children."

The present prosperous condition of agriculture (as a science) in Britain, proves nothing in favour of the law of succession and entail; since other favourable circumstances may cause a country to flourish in spite of a defect which is fatal to less fortunate states. M. de STAEL justly remarks→→→ "That England has risen above almost every other country in Europe, by the progress of its agriculture, is incontestable; but I have not here to inquire what are the different causes that, under the omnipotent ægis of liberty, have produced this result; neither is it incumbent on me to prove, that it is in no degree owing to entails, or the law of promogeniture. In fact, if we reflect, that in Italy, in Spain, and wherever else the system of irresponsible freehold succession has been introduced, it has occasioned the deterioration of land, and the impoverishment even of those for whose benefit it was invented, we shall be convinced, that the agricultural prosperity of England must be ascribed to other causes, If a tree abounding in sap be planted in a fertile soil, it may be subjected to a bad system of management perhaps with impunity, its natural vigour may triumph over the obstacles opposed to its growth; but we must not ascribe to the errors of the manager what is owing to its strength of

vegetation."

Besides, were this otherwise,-is not the happiness of the bulk of the population a better thing than a somewhat encreased produce from the land? Is not a state possessing a cheerful, contented, and virtuous labouring class, really richer, in what the true statesman

would deem national wealth, than one with larger revenue, greater exports, huge capitalists, and an immense number of drones, if at the same time it is cursed with an over-worked and ill-fed, a vicious and brutal, labouring population, a toiling and anxious middle class, millions of parish paupers, and crowded jails? We contend, however, that great capital, and a large aggregate stock of commodities conducing to comfort and luxury, are not incompatible with the ease and independence of the lower orders. With an economic expenditure, moderate taxes, a sound system of commercial freedom, the product obtained from agriculture and manufactures in Britain might be as great as at present, while the actual producers could be well paid by their employers.

But the immediate remedy for the evil of an excessive pauper popu lation?-Aye, that indeed may well puzzle the wisest heads: the mischief has grown so formidable, and increases so rapidly now by ite own impetus, that it will require the most vigorous as well as prudent tendency to make matters worse with our peasantry. The latter are measures to arrest its progress. The state of Ireland has a direc not yet reduced to that lowest grade of human existence,-the living always be a motive for swarms of Irish labourers to come over here at on the potatoe exclusively; and until they come to that, there will busy periods, and by more than supplying the extra demand, to deprive the natives of the little advantage (in higher wages) which the temporary scarcity of hands for harvesting, &c. creates. As soon as that activity is over, the Irish emigrants find their way back, either by the help of their own savings, or by parish aid, to enjoy in their own cabins, if not the occasional variety of food of the English labourer, at least more health, gaiety, and actual independence.

Certain writers, calling themselves "political economists," have hinted-for they have not yet ventured to do more-at some natural means, or we should rather say unnatural,-of checking the increase of the numbers of the poor. These suggestions we hold to be utter y abominable. The originators may be well-meaning men destitute of sentiment, who look upon the question of population as a mere question of arithmetic; but we are sure no civilized society will ever listen to propositions for tampering with its domestic delicacy and morals. It is a sign of great narrowness of mind, even to enterta the idea of degrading the sexual intercourse into a merely anima gratification, and of depriving it of the moral graces which constitu nine-tenths of the enjoyment,-in short, of inflicting an irreparabis injury on all mankind, for the sake of checking an evil in one nation, for which the only proper remedy belongs to the science of polities. We trust nothing more explicit will ever be proposed, of the disgusting and barbarous kind to which we allude: we are sure it would only irritate the public mind against the proposers.

The true remedies we have already indicated. Let the law of er tails, and that which gives all real property to the eldest sons, be abolished; let the landowners' monopoly, which makes bread dear, be put an end to; let the sinecures be lopped off, the Civil List reduced, the standing army cut down to a tenth of its amount; let eli the taxes which oppress the poor be either taken off entirely or very much diminished, and the deficit-if any-be made up of au incometax that would not touch the lower classes; let the liberal system recently adopted with such encouraging success in some branches s commerce, be extended to all, and the vice-creating trade of the singgler be destroyed; let the Church Establishment be reformed on the French or German, if not on the American, model; let the Game Laws be expunged in toto from the statute-book, and a body of regula judicial functionaries substituted for the irresponsible country magis tracy; and then the farmer or manufacturer would be able to give his workmen better wages,* to keep him at the plough or the loom only two-thirds of the time he now drudges there, and yet to realize the same profits as at present upon the produce of his farm or factory; the poor rates would dwindle to a mere trifle; the jails would be hai fortable; and a large population would be thought a blessing instad emptied; the poor would grow more provident, because more com of a curse. We may be told, that all this is very fine; but how shail we persuade the clergy, the sinecurists, the landlords, &c. to surren der their selfish advantages for the general good? We shall not persuade them; we must have a Political Reform before we can oblar these good things; for that Reform we must look to the natură! workings of our complex and embarrassed state machine; but whet can be a greater motive for the people at large to bestir themselves to

* That is, better proportionately to the price of food, though perhap no higher in nominal amount. The number of loaves of bread a labourer can purchase with his wages, is the real criterion of their high or low rate,

accelerate the overthrow of the Oligarchy, and the establishment of a real Representation, than a belief that the benefits we have enumerated would flow from the consummation of the efforts of the Reformers?

FINE ARTS.

Retsch's Illustration to the Fight with the Dragon.-There are two ways by which the beauties and defects of Art can be estimated,-by a comparison with the established works, and by the better comparison with common and select Nature, from which those works are faken. The power therefore of deciding upon the degree of beauty or defect in the Arts, is in a precise ratio with the power which Nature herself has bestowed of rightly apprehending her, and of the opportunities which have occurred of contemplating Nature and her best imitations in Art, or in other words, of cultivating the natural taste. Hence the great differences of opinion respecting it; for not only the opportunity, but the power of seeing Nature, and her representatives, Painting and Sculpture, differs in different persons. Some are all eye and sensibility in their presence; others have eyes and see not," and no sensibility. This is always strikingly evident in a walk with them abroad, or into a gallery of Art, We have frequently accompanied persons, who have not only been wholly indifferent to the usual aspects of inanimate Nature (which have always sufficient charm to the tasteful to prevent repetition from producing indifference) but who have even scarcely noticed its rarest beauties, a clear starry or moonlight night-a magnificent rainbow-a varied and extensive prospect-or a golden and all-coloured sunset. But even among those who really relish the beauties of Art and Nature, there are such diversities and degrees of opinion and feeling, that scarcely two are found exactly to agree about any given work; a difference that necessarily arises from the various temperaments of mind and imagination, mainly perhaps impressed at the birth, and varied by the innume, rable influences of domestic habits, education, &c. But though there are diversities of sentiment, there is seldom or never a very great or at least entire clashing of opinion among persons of taste, as to the existence of genius where it really does exist. No one with any just pretensions to taste ever denied, for instance, that SALVATOR ROSA had genius, though they may differ as to the comparative degree of talent glowing in his mind, and or in of NICHOLAS or of GASPAR POUSSIN. There is a power in genius which bends every susceptible mind to its homage; for genius in Art is the power of showing forth those beauties or energies of Nature, in which the susceptible mind delights. It is thus that there is but one opinion as to the existence of genius in EDWIN LANDSEER, as an Animal Painter; and in WILKIE, as a Painter of Familiar Life. It is the same, we believe, with the German Artist RETSCH. As far as we have observed and understood, his Illustrative Outlines, whether by his own hand or by the able one of HENRY MOSES, are universally attractive among the tasteful. They contain some of the best elements of design, composition, and expression; and are so much to the purpose, that we are reminded of the force of German and the grace of Italian design; as if a portion of the mind of ALBERT DURER, of DOMINICHINO and GUIDO. had passed into the sensorium, and moved the hand of the Artist. They have an occasional mixture of briskness like that of the awakening viol, with the fancy and heart-moving tenderness of the Eolian harp. Such are his Faust and Fridolin, and his just now published Illustration of the Fight of the Dragon. This consists of 16 outlines by the unequalled hand of Mr. HENRY MOSES, appended to the original text by SCHILLER, with a translation by J. P. COLLIER, Author of The Poetical Decameron. The story has the unvarnished simplicity and feeling of a legendary tale, and is highly chivalrous; for it tells of a Knight who rescues an island from the ravages of a Dragon by his stratagem and courage. Plate 1. exhibits a man with clasped hands, lamenting over the destruction and miseries inflicted by the Dragon, who is seen in the distance about to destroy two people. His female companion is fainting at the sight. 2. The Herdsmen in dismay, and a flock and herd scampering confusedly at the sudden approach of the Dragon.-3. The monster rushing from his covert and surprising two pilgrims.-4. Several Knights discomfited or killed by the Dragon.-5. A young Knight listening to the account of the Dragon's seizure of a child.-6. The Knight reconnoitring the Dragon. 7. The Knight superintending the making a mock Dragon, on whose vulnerable part he is to practice his mastiffs for the encounter with the real Dragon.-8. The mock encounter.-9. The Knight at his devotions previously to the fight.-10. His dismissal of his Pages before the enCounter.-11. and 12. The Fight.-13. His Pages lifting him from the ground to which he had been pressed by the fall of the Dragon.-14. The Knight's triumphal passage to the Cloister.-15. His trial before the Knights of St. John, for having fought the Dragon in violation of their orders.-16. His contrition, with the reconciliation of the Master of the Views in Provence and on the Rhone. The Messrs. COOKE are in the highest class of our engravers of landscape. This, in conjunction with great promptitude and industry in their publications, gives them a popu Tarity which brings their works in quick succession before the public, and a consequent demand for our frequent notice. This we have given to the five numbers of their and Mr. ALLEN's Views in Provence and on

Order.

the Rhone. The sixth and last claims the same aftention, for its accordance with them in sculptural beauty. Its four plates are by Mr. W. B. COOKE, whose style is the same as that of his brother, Mr. G. COOKE, a style essentially differing in its general execution and effect from that of WOOLLET and LANDSEER. Landscape engraving in line, the noblest species, (though the rest have their peculiar merits)-may be mainly divided into two kinds; that with a fineness of line which gives a more abundant touchiness, which is the Messrs. COOKE's; and the thicker and more open, which gives a more distinct gram. They are both extremely beautiful. This last number contains-1. Mont Blanc, from a height above Lyons. It commands a noble view of the valley through wirich the Rhone winds, bounded by mountains, over which Mont Blanc is distinctly seen, glittering in brightness, at the distance of near 100 miles."--2. Tarascon, a castle on the Rhône, in which is seen the talent of Mr. DeWINT, at giving interest to an indifferent object, by the charm of a lively light, like the agreeable lighung up of a plain face by a good-tempered vivacity.-3. The Bay of Marseilles.-4. Triumphal Arch of Marius at Orange; in its proportions beautiful, and though in decay, still rich in its ornaments of relievos, &c. The mixed profuseness and nicety of marking would become the graver of even the architectural LE KEUXS. The beautiful light of sunny nature upon this fine structure, and the structure itself, are not inapt denotings of the brilliant powers of Nature and Art which have combined to the production of this plate. [Notes of several Lithographic Prints in our next.]

THEATRICAL EXAMINER.

R. H.

ENGLISH OPERA HOUSE.

WITH a laudable spirit of enterprise, and encouraged no doubt by the success of Der Freischutz, the proprietors of this theatre produced for the first time, on Monday last, the operatic play of Turrare, from the French of BEAUMARCHAIS. Every student of the French drama is well acquainted with the singular, pertinacious, and intriguing character of that adventuring dramatist, who, on the production of the Marriage of Figaro, contrived to involve the whole world of fashion in France into parties, and with the most facetious adroitness to delude them into controversy on the subject of his theatrical morale. The subtilty of his finesse, the deep spirit of his intrigue, and his Mephistophiles-like appeal to the tendences of the minor legion of demons which more or less inhabit all human bosoms-the mere shadow of all which is presented in our operatic versions-might have discovered the secret; and so it did eventually, but then everybody had read and seen the play in the interim. Of this singular writer and character (for he was both) Turrare was another experiment, in which his object appears to have been, to strengthen the dramatic interest of opera by dialogue in musical French verse, and to claim for a species of romantic action the advantage of music. The composer, SALIERI, the musical disciple of GLUCK, happening to be his friend, agreed to aid him upon his own plan; and the result was the opera, or play, or both, of Tarrare, in five acts, which the English adaptation has comprised into two. French authors, like Bayes in the Rehearsal, have always felt a great inclination to insinuate the plot into the boxes; and in this instance BEAUMARCHAIS told a long story of his design. His object, it seems, was to contrast an unhappy tyrant who has everything in his power, with a virtuous hero who bears great misfortunes with fortitude yet with feeling. The happiness of the one exasperates the other; and the piece opens with a kidnapping of the wife of Tarrare, the principal source of his felicity, into the seraglio of Atar the tyrant. A rebellion takes place; and, to the confusion of Atar, and an intriguing chief Bramin who seeks for the advancement of his son, the oracle declares that Tarrare can alone succeed against the rebels. The latter meanwhile, having found out that his wife is in the seraglio, aided by a friendly Italian slave, gets within the walls in the disguise of a mute, but is disco vered, and condemned to execution, together with his wife Astasia, whet party of the soldiers mutiny, and rush into the temple to rescu them. Turrare, virtuous in every extremity, immediately chides the rebellious crew who dare to dispute the will of their sovereign,—an incident very French in sentiment in the time of BEAUMARCHAIS, but Tartar-like in practice at no time. It however succeeds; the repentant soldiers lay down their arms; and Atur, subdued, restores the virtuous pair to liberty, and promises to Turrare the second place in the empire. In the original, with much more consistency, the amiable monarch, intent upon poetical justice, puts himself to death with his own sword. We have very cursorily told the story of this drama, because in fact there is very little to interest in that respect. Nothing can be more tame and trite than the dialogue, in which we should not have recognised BEAUMARCHAIS for a moment, had-we not been

aware of the original; and even then only in a portion of the snipsnap between Calpigi, an adroit Italian slave, and Ninetto, his tart and intriguing wife (also a captive)-a supposed ci-devant actor and opera-girl. All the rest was very much in our own melo-dramatic style of dialogue, which it is altogether unnecessary to define. We at length therefore arrive at the music, which, independently of much splendid scenery and decoration, supplies the grand attraction in the present instance, both in regard to novelty and merit. It is spirited, and indicative of the style of SALIERI, who is said to have sought to combine the melody of Italy with the harmony of the German school, possibly to the abatement of both in their highest degree, but certainly not to the exclusion of a very great degree of attraction. Speaking generally, we encounter but few of those exquisite melodies and passages which haunt the delighted ear for ever afterwards, and mingle in all our musical reminiscences. On the other hand, the accompaniments, although fine, are deficient in fullness, and give little or no opportunity to the wind instruments. All this, however, by the way; for, if not to be compared with masterpieces which, like the Der Freischutz of WEBER, emanate as it were from a single overwhelming train of associations, Tarrare is still a considerable musical treat, rendered much more so by the extraordinary power and exertions of BRAHAM, the hero of the piece. We never saw this great vocalist more decidedly himself, that is to say, more excellent in his own comprehensive variety. In an interpolation,said to be from another opera of SALIERI, of a spirited march happily arranged to appropriate words on the subject of "Revenge," he was encored twice, and performed a task which few but himself could have adequately executed,with extraordinary energy and spirit. BRAHAM is serprisingly obtuse to hints; had he listened to friendly advice, he ought to have retired some time ago; yet he still remains the musical dramatic champion of England with unapproachable power. Miss PATON also appears to considerable advantage in this opera, and sang with great sweetness and variety of intonation. Her part in a beautiful terzetto-"To woman's charms surrender "likely to be the most popular piece in the opera-was particularly admired A young lady of the mame of HAMILTON, we believe, made her debut in the heroine (Astasia) Allowing for embarrassment, it was a respectable performance; but something more of variety and sweetness is wanting in the voice, and of facility in execution, which may possibly follow additional cultivation and prac tice. II. PaiLLIPS performed the tyrant, and sang occasionally very finely. A Mr. ATKINS, a pupil, we understand, of Mr. IAWES (who has arranged and superintended the production of this piece), also made a first appearance on this occasion. Ile possesses a powerful bass voice, which he displayed in the appropriate character of the chief Bramin to considerable advantage, and was very well received. THORN had but little opportunity in his very silly part, but executed the vocal share assigned to him pleasingly. On the whole, this get-up is likely to prove attractive through the season, although certainly not after the manner of Der Frieschutz. As a drama, it abounds in incongruities; for instance, worshippers of the sun, or Mahometans, we hardly know which, are found votaries in the temple of Brama; just as if a rogue of a chief priest (a part of the plot) would not have been found in a religions worship which a Persian or any one else might have attended. The opera was warmly applauded, although we have heard that many English professional musicians are dissentients. Speaking of the public at large, this will go but a little way; and we doubt not that the spirit of the proprietors in this species of revival, and the engagement of first-rate talent to support it, will be adequately rewarded. Q.

TO SIGNOR VELLUTI."

COMPOSED EXTEMPORE IN A BOX AT THE OPERA, ON SATURDAY, AUGUST 13.
THE voice of past sweetness has slept on mine ear,
Oh! no more 'twill awaken its lingering strain;
It has fled like a fond fairy vision, and here

There lives no soft Echo io tell it again.

When those tones which for us have just breathed their farewell,
Thou art waking for others, far, far o'er the sea,
Then how oft will regret on thy minstrelsy dwell,
And a sigh from this bosom je wafted to thee.
No! never, VELLUTI, oh! never shall fade

On remembrance that voice, though I hear it no more;
Like the bright smiling West, still in beauty array'd,
Though sun-set has faded, and daylight is o'er.

VELLUTI

METS.

WRITTEN IN REPLY TO THE POEM IN THE EXAMINER OF AUGUST 7.
AH! cease, VELLUTI, nor thus vainly try
To wake the world's cold narrow sympathy:
Hope not in Pity's silken wreath to bind
The heart ungenerons and the tongue unkind.
And though 'tis inhumanity indeed
That can resist when the defenceless plead,
Or moving eloquence like thine unheed
And tho' thy slighted wrongs demand redress,
As claims thy fate our gentlest tenderness-
Yet ah! while hearts are strangers to the name
Of mercy, what has wretchedness to claim?
Still, midst the taunts of our pufeeling world,
Midst each unmanly shaft around thee hurl'd,
And th' seorn that from th' unkindly spirit springs-
Reflect (tho' small perchance the balm it brings)–
Reflect, that 'tis unworthy bearts alone
Mock the unhappy-the defenceless scorn;
And deein, while to compassion you appeal,
That heart beneath regret, which cannot feel.
He in whose haughty and repulsive eye
Ne'er beam'd the hallow'd tear of sympathy-
He who with calm indiff'rence could behold
The trembling drop in thine, and yet with cold
Mute apathy and narrow selfishness
The voice of soft humanity suppress,
And from thy path of sadness harshly tear
The little boon that might shed comfort there-
Oh heed him not; so poor, so base a prize
Is 'neath invoking, nay, beneath despise.
And say not, 'mongst the rude and heartless throngs
That thus dublushing trample on thy wrongs,-
Midst looks of scorn and lofty arrogance,
There beams no eye of gentler, milder glance ;-
Say not, for thee there lows no pitying tear,
No soul to love thee, and no voice to cheer :-
One heart there is,-one heart at least, would bring
To Friendship's shrine its sacred offering.
Yes! here, VELLUTI, here thou'it ever find
Nor tongue ungen'rous nor reproach unkind;
Here beats at least one sympathizing breast,
Where thou mayst lay the weary head to rest,
And tell thy sorrows; and when the rude
Rough bitter blast of man's ingratitude"
Comes sweeping by ;-when on thy pensive mind
Rise friends far hence, and days long left behind ;-
When all around looks desolate and form,

And nothing meets thee save the cold world's scorn ;-
When from thy breast awakes the mournful sigh,
And the sad tear comes trembling to thine eye,-
'Ah! then to th' heart of gentle Friendship come,
And be that heart thy refuge and thy home.

THE "LIVING SKELETON."

M