The Drama. PLOT OF THE NEW TRAGEDY OF "CONSCIENCE," Lately produced with success at Drury-lane Theatre. Lorenzo, a young Venetian, of exalted birth and for tune, is left by his father's will under the guardianship of Rinaldo, who, principally stimulated by avarice, final ly succeeds in stripping him of all his property. A mutual attachment had previously been fostered into love between Lorenzo and Elmira, the daughter of Arsinio, Rinaldo's brother. All hopes of a union, however, are blighted by the ruin of Lorenzo, who is obliged to determine on expatriating himself, as the only refuge from the fangs of his creditors. In the mean time, Rinaldo suddenly dies, and Arsinio, as next heir, becomes possessed of his property. This accession of fortune makes no change in Elmira's affection; but, her father, who hates her lover for proceeding at law to recover some of his inheritance, commands his daughter to marry a suitor of his choice. Elmira considers compliance in matters of love no part of filial duty, but promises not to marry Lorenzo, if her father will consent that she may remain single. This request is denied; and Elmira, as the only resource, is secretly married to the man she prefers. Here the first act ends, the interest of the audience being judiciously awakened, and fancy sent in search of what is to ensue. Arsinio hears of his daughter's marriage, and allows her an interview, which she seeks with that natural confidence which a daughter ought to have of subduing her father's anger, and effecting a reconciliation. He is inexorable; turns her from his house, and she and her husband leave their native home together: That in the silver hour of solitude, Fashions for March. mies at liberty. During this part of the Play the situa- | And the pale foliage of the midnight scene is the banditti incident, and the incarceration of Arsinio HEAD DRESSES.-A bonnet composed of black du cupe: it has a low crown and a very large brim which is lined with pink zephyreen; the edge of the brim is ornamented with a wreath of black satin, disposed in scalloped folds. A full plume of black marabouts is placed at the right side of the crown, and a bow of the same material as the bonnet is at tached to the base of the plume. Black gros de Naples strings. A white satin hat: the crown is low, the brim is of a very novel shape; it is small, turns up, and is square on the left side, and rounded and much deeper on the right side, where a knot of white satin is placed just under the edge. A plume of white flat ostrich feathers, at the base of which is a full bow of white satin, is attached to the right side of the crown.. A bat composed of white figured satin: the crown is low, the brim turns up in front; it is shallow at the sides, but deep over the forehead. A plume of white flat ostrich feathers is placed on the right side, and droops as low as the left shoulder. This hat is worn over a cornette of tulle. over the forehead, with a bouquet of primroses `surrounded with foliage. A ponceau velvet bonnet lined with white satin: This plot (says a brother journalist) has been the sub- the brim is deep, but sits close to the face; it is ject of various criticism among our cotemporaries, who, edged with a roleau of ponceau satin; the velvet is as might be expected, only agree in thinking it more or laid in full folds on the crown, which is of an oval less exceptionable. One has ingeniously discovered that Rinaldo is killed in a feudal quarrel, and that murder by shape; a small piece of velvet falls into the neck: a bow of the same material is placed in the centre poison in a "feudal contest" ought not to be followed by remorse. The same critic thinks it highly improbable of the crown, and a wreath of full-blown roses goes and unnatural that extreme suffering should break a wo-round the bottom of it. Ponceau strings. man's heart on the stage. Another writer has judiciously observed that "the preparation of so base a crime as murder, and by so treacherous a weapon as poison, is objectionable in the high-spirited and affectionate Lorenzo. In this opinion we somewhat agree, and more particularly as his horror of a tarnished fame is Lorenzo's absorbing The world was all before them, where to chose passion. But what rather appears to us objectionable, A place of rest, and Providence their guide. They are accompanied by Julio, a friend of Lorenzo's. and Alfiero in the subterannean cave, which do not perhaps harmonize sufficiently with the prevailing elevation In passing through a wood, the party are attacked by of the Tragedy. It may also be remarked, that for such a banditti, who bear off Elmira to their den, whither pathetic and listless audiences as generally attend our the is followed by her husband and Julio, who deter-Theatres, a little more stage bustle, or spectacle, would mine to rescue her. As the conflict is about to com- be desirable. With these trifling subtractions, which mence the leader of the Banditti recognises Lorenzo, would easily be compensated by stage management, and and orders his followers to desist. At this moment excellent acting, the plot is, in our opinion, besides being the robbers are surprised by a party of soldiers, and A small round cap composed of British net, with that he holds a secret on which the life and fame of creasing anxious interest to the close of the catastrophe. bon is placed at the right ear, and a similar knot order full border of rich, lace; a knot of green ribLorenzo hang, makes himself sure, on that ground, of It is, however, comparatively easy to be the artificer of impunity from the State. a stage scheme; and Mr. HAINES is so wealthy in all He accordingly reminds Lorenzo that his fate depends upon the result. Elmira the real riches of genius, that he may throw the story of shocked and perplexed that such a ruffian could Croesus. It is on the expression, the thought, the feeling, pale pink soi de Londres, trimmed with pink zephyhis work to feed the poor in spirit, and still remain a EVENING DRESS.-A round dress composed of have any lien on her husband's conduct; and if Mrs. the deep and comprehensive poetic conception of the reen fluted in a scroll pattern. The corsage is cut WEST were fully equal to the situation, this part of whole piece, that he stands pre-eminent. The Thea- square at the bust, and so as to display the neck a the scene would be most effective. The banditti trical critic in The New Times has truly remarked, that good deal: the back is plain, and laced behind; the are finally led off prisoners which concludes the second act. Lorenzo now reveals to his friend Julio son has produced." We not only concur in this opinion, "this tragedy is, beyond question, the best which this sea-front is ornamented with a stomacher, broad at the the mysterious crime, of which he is conscious, namely, but are confident that it contains more genuine and fine top, but sloping a good deal towards the bottom, that in an unguarded moment Alfiero, the Bandit, who had been his servant, proposed to cut off Rinaldo, There is, at the same time, nothing gaudy or obtrusive corated with pearls. The sleeve is a fulness of net poetry than has been produced on the stage for years. and coming a very little below the waist: it is dehis guardian, by poison, and that he, in the phrenzy in the writer's ornaments. His sentiments are dressed over pink in soie de Londres; the fullness is confined of despair, consented. Julio is horrified at this con- in the richness, but with the taste and elegant propriety in the middle by a pink satin ornament. The hair is fession, but under all the circumstances, is induced to of high life. The jewellery of the dialogue is so skilfully dressed in loose ringlets on the forehead, and falling Alfiero. He is, however, excluded from the Senate- set; the most brilliant figures blend so well with the low at the sides; the hind hair is cut partly behind, house during the trial, and the criminal, finding him-language in which they are imbedded, that their lights so as to curl in the neck the remaining part is self on the threshold of death, offers to purchase life, are mutually reflected into a soft harmonious colouring. braided, and brought round the head. Head-dresses, by unfolding a secret, which he declares is of the last Besides this, the results of just and close observation importance to the State; to prove it so, he, in the first of moral life are condensed into pithy expressions, which a tiara of diamonds and a full plume of marabouts. place, requests leave privately to inform Arsinio, who will hereafter be often quoted to enforce or illustrate. Nacklace and earrings, diamonds. White kid gloves, 16 présent, of it. The request is granted, and the In short, there is but one thing to detract from the Au- and white satin shoes. parties retire, when Alfiero reveals, in exaggerated thors hopes the stage does not possess performers who terms, the crime of Lorenzo. Arsinio exults in the can play up to the parts he has given them, and this prospect of vengeance; but to save his own family from With these few remarks we must now dismiss the subis the highest praise which Mr. HAINES can obtain. the shame that Lorenzo's exposure would reflect on it, he seeks an interview with him, and after intimating ject. The following extract will give some idea of the his knowledge of the secret, offers impunity if he will quit Italy, and relinquish his wife. To aid his purpose Alfiero is introduced and confronted with Lorenzo. The latter indignantly rejects these terms, and being assisted by his friend Julio, compels Arsinio and Alfiero, by threat of instant death, to enter a subterraneous cavern, where he struts them up. The third act ends here. Lorenzo is immediately taken before the Senate to account for his disappearance, and not giving a satisfactory explanation is sentenced to the torture. This he despises; but being informed that Elmira is accused of conspiring with him to destroy her father, he commands Julio to let his ene promise his intercession with the Senate in behalf of 1 dressed to Elmira when she at first leaves her father's Lorenzo.--Lean on me, love; for we have far to go ENGLISH CARRIAGE DRESS.-Round dress of cambric, trimmed with embroidered mustin. Pewith Etruscan facings of the same, down the middle lisse of silver grey lavender figured gros de Naples, of which are Spanish slashes of grey lavender satin, The Etruscan points of the facings are edged with edged round with narrow rouleaux of pink satin. wire chain fringe of a pink colour, and each point terminated by a tassel. Pelerine cape, made to answer the facings; and a collar, partially pointed, finished by plaited satin à la Venitienne. Hat of white satin over a fine lace cornette, with a plume of white feathers: the hat and cap are in the style of those worn by Mary Queen of Scots. The favourite colours are ethereal blue, tea-colour, hermit brown, and pink, Poetry. [ORIGINAL.} LIVERPOOL. 1. The breeze had died; the moon with softest ray Heard mingling with the splash of distant oar, Not I; for I that night was not awake; But it was on a night not half so fine; (I pictured the above for contrast's sake.) Stop, stop! this romping Pegasus of mine, Regardless Scott's or Byron's rules to break, Has, in first stanza, leapt an extra line. We bards can't rein our steeds, lest others pass us; And mine, you see, strikes fire from steep Parnassus. 3. The Mersey on that night, in wild commotion, Threw up its crested waves in proud disdain. 4. When sable clouds quench every little star, And rush, the rocky shore in foam to wash : Compared with these in giant-might when warring, How pitiful were Crib or Belcher's sparring! 5. The wind did various damage on that night; Up borne balloon-like, from their clutches broke; And, if my mathematics serve me right, Reached France next morning, e'er the folks awoke. (You look as if this verse were not so well; ah! I could not find a good rhyme for Umbrella). 6. Where Andes to the skies his mountains throws 7. The storm recedes; now murmurs, now is mute; The tropic sun hath chased the clouds away. Now, child of fancy, seek the mountain's foot, The tempered vale where thousand streamlets play, And plant and tree are hung with luscious fruit, And nature sports in an eternal May. Hark! 'tis the song and lute of love-sick maid, The black-eyed brunette-girl, beneath the plantain's shade. 8. Methinks I hear some English dame declare, "The more the fellow writes the worse he grows; He passes us, whose necks are lily fair, Whose cheeks are vermeil as the dew-bathed rose: I think his tropic storms he well might spare; His tawney's eyes, be they as black as sloes: And, 'stead of wheeling us off to the Andes, Tell us of Britain's fair, and L'erpool dandies!" 9. Patience! a lady there I chanced to know, A brighter beam the sun did never fling Than burst from her blue eye, so soft, so big; I loved; 'twas long before I wore a wig. 10. I loved those southern countries, where the sun, I loved his beams in lady's bower to shun, If these, or wine, or friends, you love-go roam; 11. But to return on such a night as that On which I lost my wig, 'tis sweet to be At parlour fire, and mid the friendly chat, To list the hail, the wind, the roaring sea: 'Tis sweet, if out, to have a broad-brimm'd hat And a good cloak from chill to keep you free, But oh! there's something, then, that's sweeter farYour fifteenth glass at Mr. Crowther's bar. 12. I, there, that very night had ta'en a swig 13. "I am," it said, "the self and genuine ghost Of Shaughnasey O'Shaughnasey yclept, He told me where his Cantos four were tossed, 14. Thrice crew the cock: the barrel upwards sprung, TO THE ZEPHYR. Spirit of the whisp'ring breeze, Hither haste on viewless wing; Leave the gently-bending trees, Come and round me sweetly sing. Come and fan my leafy bower, Here no scorching rays intrude; Companion of the lonely hour, Tuneful lyre of solitude. Waft the soft æolian lay; Where at night thou lov'st to rest, Wafted from lips that sigh had pass'd; How sweet would be thy breath to me! And, Zephyr, I would answer thee. Oh! never, in thy rovings wild, Forget those lips thy sighs to bear; But still on ling'ring wing beguil'd, Give, and receive thy message there. Till the loved spirit freed from clay, Shall greet me with an angel's sinile, And lead me to those realms of day, Far from this land of care and toil. Sweet breeze, adieu! still freely play Around my cool and leafy bower; And often shall the summer's day, Lead me to ask thy tuneful power. Liverpool. MARRY, OR HANG. E. F. In Sir Walter Scott's account of Elibank Town, Peebles-shire, a very amusing incident is related of one of the ancestors of Mr. Walter Scott: ther "William Scott (afterwards Sir William) undertook an expedition against the Elibank, whose property lay a few miles distant. He found the enemy upon guard, was defeated and made prisoner in the act of driving off the cattle, which he had collected for that purpose. Sir Gideon Murray conducted his prisoner to the Castle, where his lady received him with congratul tions on his victory, and inquiries concerning the fate o which he destined his prisoner. The gallows, answered Sir Gideon, to the gallows with the murderer!' 'He na, Sir Gideon,' answered the considerate matron, in her vernacular idiom, would you hang the wins Laird of Harden, when we have three ill-favoured daughters to marry?' Right, answered the Bas who catched at the idea, he shall either marry daughter, Mele-mouthed Meg, or strap for it.' Upa this alternative being proposed to the prisoner, he, up the first view of the case, strongly preferred the giblet Mickle-mouthed Meg,' for such was the nickname f the young lady, whose real name was Agnes. But length, when he was literally led forth to execution, and saw no other chance of escape, he retracted his ungalia resolution, and preferred the typical noose of matrimary to the literal cord of hemp. Such is the tradition corded in both families, and often jocularly referred upon the borders. It may be necessary to add, the Mickle-mouthed Meg and her husband were a kapp! and loving pair, and had a very large family." Literature, Criticism, &c. PETER BELL. This work has been considered by the admirers of Mr. Wordsworth, as his chef-d'œuvre; and I have therefore selected it as the subject of my remarks. It is not without pain that I am necessitated, from the best of my judgment, to condemn it altogether; and to say, that although in some of the passages an ardent admirer of poetry may discern some slight germs of genius and traces of originality, yet, as a whole, I certainly consider it the most ridiculous attempt at poetry ever aspired to, were it even by one of mediocre talents. In the first place, I must, in common justice to the author, confess, that bis preface, in some respects, is well adapted, and consistent with the rest of the work: he there expresses a hope that it will not be totally unworthy of filling, permanently, a station, however humble, in the literature of his country." In this, he will not be disappointed; as I think the book will everlastingly be cited as a specimen of the dearth of genius among the poets of the 19th century. Mr. W. afterwards observes, that such "has always been the aim of all his endeavours in poetry." I cannot doubt the success of his laudable aims, from the reason above stated, though probably the author intended it in a different way. Ar the conclusion of his preface, which is dedicated to Mr. Southey, he alludes to the frequent occasions in which their names have been coupled together, "for evil and for good." Heaven knows, our reviewers have often enough conjoined the names of these worthies in the former; but, as to the latter, I must apologise for my ignorance, in confessing that I never heard a syllable in praise of their united efforts in any way. But, to commence with the poem. The first verse of what the writer terms the prologue runs thus: There's something in a flying-horse, Whose shape is like the crescent moon. Pursuing the description of this wild and savage out- At noon, when by the forest's edge, The witchery of the soft blue sky! On which they gaz'd themselves away. ́ This Peter, it seems, has very little idea of enjoying fine prospects, and not much leisure, one would think, even if he had the taste; for he had "a dozen wedded wives." To proceed with the tale :-One beautiful November evening, Peter was traveling by the banks of the Swale; and, after traversing the border of the river for some time, finds that the pathway leads to a quarry, where it ends, and his further progress is impeded. Looking around him, he perceives a solitary ass, and proceeds to take it as his lawful prize. The beast, however, feels no disposition to stir; but continually bends his head over the stream, as if surveying some object "of his doubt or dread." All, all is silent, rocks and woods, All still and silent, far and near; Turns round his long left ear. Thought Peter, what can mean all this? Some ugly witchcraft must be here! Turn'd round his long left ear. Mr. Wordsworth seems to take singular pleasure in observing each motion of the Ass's ears. I am sorry no other poetical idea could be produced to break the dreadful pause. What Lord Byron said of Coleridge will apply inimitably well to this wonderful bard: This may, no doubt, be very fine; but I must venture to say, that, though the poet has discovered something in these wonders, it grieves me that I can find "Yet none in lofty numbers can surpass nothing like sense or connexion throughout the whole The bard who SOARS to eulogise an ass; prologue. The author may, perhaps, laugh; and say, How well the subject suits his noble mind, Am I first to write poetry, and then give people A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind !” sense to understand it?" Certainly not; but let him write sense at once, and then the difficulty is obviated. After divers resolute attacks on the Ass (which, by There is no great hardship in composing incomprehen- the-bye, from the respect paid to it by the poet, one sible nonsense, and then calling it metaphysical. Whe. would be apt to mistake for the hero of the piece) ther Mr. W.'s poetry is the more incomprehensible Peter Bell stoops to seize and drag him away by viofrom being stupid, or the more stupid from being in-lence, but is suddenly struck by some startling sight in fumprehensible, I will not take it upon me to say; but the pool. After many sagacious conjectures as to what t often amuses me to hear those who pretend great ad- this frightful spectacle can be, the author proceeds niration for his genius, affirm, very coolly, that he is gravely to ask oo deep for the generality of readers. I wonder What Gray would have thought of it. At length, after wading through the prologue, we rrive at the poem: the ostensible hero is a wild rover, lamed Peter Bell; and we have a few pages descripive of his travels. In this place, I must observe, that, hough my animadversions have been thus pointed and Revere, I will not so far lose sight of candour and jusice (like most of our Reviewers) as to select from the poem those passages only, from the abundant specimens it affords, which may tend to accredit my asser. tions, and leave, unregarded, those parts which, like thinly-scattered gems in the mine, sparkle the more brilliantly, contrasted with the rubbish that surrounds them. Such parts indeed there are, and they plainly show Mr. Wordsworth to be a man of genius, and a deep observer of human nature. What can be more beautiful than the two following? In these few lines he has described what others could scarcely attempt in as many pages. He rov'd among the vales and streams, In vain, through every changeful year, And it was nothing more. Is it a party in a parlour? Cramm'd just as they on earth are cramm'd- All silent and all damın'd! laying hold of it; but if, in lying down, he clung fast to the earth to keep him up, he certainly then was completely done." But to return: The ass is a wondrous creature. The animation in his countenance when he endeavours to induce Peter to raise the body out of the stream; his subsequent wailings and grief; his bending on his knees (not very like an elephant) in order to prevail on Peter to mount; and his returning homewards with him, all bespeak a very superior intellect. The poet seems, for the moment, to have forgotten that the Christian, and NOT the Mahometan religion, is prevalent in England. This mistake, we may conjecture, originates in his ardent desire of displaying the marvelous talents of the ass: "the mosques change countenance" at sight of this wonder-working animal. While the ass pursues his way Along the solitary dell, As pensively his steps advance, The mosques and spires change countenance, The pair pursue their way through devious paths. never heard before that withered leaves were sent on earth for the punishment of the wicked, but here they are made the chief instrument of Peter's chastisement; one of them gives him a very long chase, and it is with difficulty that the potter escapes its clutches. The passage is so sublime that I can't refrain from quoting it in full. Mark the awful pause at the beginning: How blank! but whence this rustling sound So huge hath been my wickedness!" Some other agonies which an awakening conscience torments this man of sin with, are then depicted, and so closes part the second. At the opening of part third, the Spirits of the Mind are invoked, and invited to try their influence on the mind of Peter Bell. There is something noble and lofty in this invocation; and indeed the poet seems to have caught an inspiration from their power, far transcending his ordinary attempts. One more touch at the ass, and the author soars to what should be his proper region. Let them whose voice can stop the clouds- Tell to a curious world the cause Why, making here a sudden pause, The ass turned round his head-and grinned. The like on heath-in lonely wood, Independent of the striking beauty of this passage, and its absolute freedom from vulgarity, I may add, that, though I do not pretend to know in what kind of a circle Mr. W. moves, yet, from his poetical ideas, spectacle of the ass and Peter hideously grinning at Who can imagine anything more sublime than the (which are, of course, taken from the feelings which each other. The latter, however, is suddenly alarmed a man's society gives rise to) I may be permitted to imagine that his cannot be the most select; at any rate, from the centre of the earth, and his compunction is at a tremendous rumbling sound, seeming to proceed situated as I am, among the third or fourth class, it again awakened. The deep and tender feeling breathed has never been my fortune to visit any of these tea- through the following passage, would recompense one and-punch cramming parties; and, I feel rather sorry for more than even all the poet's nonsense. It is astonto find, that a gentleman of such refined taste as Mr.ishing that a man possessed of such powers should so Wordsworth should descend so low. The reader will hardly guess that this sight, so ap-only to weaken the effect of this episode, which is constantly misapply them. My remarks would tend palling to the rover, turns out to be a dead man's face, written in the very soul and spirit of poetry. Nothing luxury of the mind, with all its loftier enthusiasm, as I have ever read has so completely excited the tender which he sees in the stream! Master Bell forthwith falls into a trance, and so concludes part first. Languidly rousing from his death-like slumber, the potter looks around him, And feels the glimmering of the moon, And to stretch forth his hands is trying, &c. The last line reminds me strongly of what an old and dear friend used to say, "that he never considered a man intoxicated who could lie on the ground without these lines: But more than all, his heart is stung And she put on her gown of green, And followed Peter Bell. Had she; and, in the kirk to pray, Twice every sabbath-day. She droop'd and pin'd like one forlorn : She call'd her babe unborn. "And took it in most grievous part; And now the spirits of the mind Are busy with poor Peter Bell; ⚫ Distraction reigns in soul and sense, And reason drops in impotence From her deserted pinnacle! Not four yards from the broad highway; "My mother! Oh, my mother !” While he behelds by the furze brake The arrival of Peter at the house of the deceased, and the grief of the widow are described with much pathos ; and, to conclude, Peter Bell, who, till that night, Had been the wildest of his clan, I remain yours, &c. DFEMALE SYMPATHY. TO THE EDITOR. "Even in the deepest distress, when a sweet little woman turns up ber lovely face, and says, We will not despair, will we?' where is the heart which can resist the sweet, the soothing a few of the happiest moments of my life, and felt a conduct for the remainder of their lives; upon my little country girl with contempt; but the D. S. I. "Dear object of my love, too fondly dear, "I cannot express the anguish I feel, when pose conducive to your happiness, which the good my prayers and tears are all I can bestow." • "To teach the young idea how to shoot," and to give, as it were, a polarity to th mental needle. The male part of ou population, and particularly that part of which forms general society, has been sig matized as being below mediocrity in the scale of mental acquirements; and when does it arise? Not from choice, but from the difficulty which young men, engaged in commercial pursuits, have, to mix in such society as would tend to their mental im provement. When the business of the day is over, the mind requires relaxation, and that relaxation is sought in the various amusements and objects to which different tastes may lead; and if our young men do gene rally engage in frivolous or vicious pursuits, it is, in most cases, from circumstance rather than selection; and were the means provement of easier access, they would more generally embraced. Let us suppo a case: a young man comes from a distant part of the country, and is placed in office in Liverpool; how is he to spend "Let him evenings? It may be answered, go to his lodgings, and improve his min by reading and study." This may plausible enough in theory, but it requir more than an ordinary mind to apply it to practice; and, indeed, in youth it is not to be expected. What is the alternative? goes to the tavern and the ball-room; mises with the fashion of the day; acquires taste PRIVATE SOCIETIES FOR SOCIAL for dress, and is soon initiated into other DISCUSSION. TO THE EDITOR. In a former letter, I suggested it as a charm, or feels not a gleam of happiness wander on its throbs?" desirable object that the heads of our mer Ryley's Itinerant, cantile houses should have some regard to the Friendship, the radiant star which illumes the dark-improvement of their young men, in mental ness of distress, is no doubt the sweetest enjoyment of the human heart; particularly that friendship of the soul, that pure and gentle passion with which we are inspired, by the fairest and loveliest of created beings. I do not mean those votaries of fashion, whose accomplishments consist in a few superfluous frivolities, but rather a tender heart, on which nature or science vices, I need not describe. Now, if this young man had met with a fostering hand to have given a right impulse to his mind and had been introduced to proper society, what a contrast would he have formed to his present character! It is then surely de sirable, that some plan should be devised to remedy these evils, and to stimulate young men to the aequirement of useful know. ledge. as well as in mercantile concerns. It is a have implanted their loveliest blossoms; for it is a evinces either sentiment or taste. The following extract There is nothing tends so much to enlarge our minds and correct our prejudices submitting our opinions to candid liberal criticism; and upon a general ca only by social discussion this can be ments, and newly-erected edifices, I do so with very with greater certainty than the introduction of oue mplished; nor do I know any other peculiar pleasure; because, within the last few years of the metropolitan acts, which obliges the inhabi of my recollection, many of those spots, which were tants of London to build all their houses in one hod by which emulation is so effectually at one time so many useless blanks and vacancies, street of the same height. If this plan were adopted, cited. Let us suppose a youth of mo-in different parts of the town, are now beautifully and I see no reason why it should not be immedi occupied by some ornamental spire or other monu-ately, we should soon have that uniformity in all ments of our increasing wealth and splendour, which our streets, the want of which must, I am sure, be will serve, not only to distinguish this town over now too conspicuous to the most careless observer. almost every other in the empire, but will stand, If you agree with my observations, and consider most likely, for ages, as so many monuments of them worthy insertion, you will much oblige a conadmiration to future generations, when they reflect stant reader, on our industry and perseverance in the cultivation 24th Feb. 1821. of the liberal arts and sciences, and in the promotion and cultivation of the true ends of the enlightened and civilized world. Fine Arts. ON THE STUDY OF COINS. LETTER III. [Written for the Kaleidoscope.] TO THE EDITOR. OF THE CONSULAR COINS. T. J. C. SIR,-In my last I mentioned the three metals of which the Roman coins were principally struck, and their various sizes, with a promise to treat more largely on the consular coins of families. I also remarked those which bear the indented ROMA are the most ancient, and shall now in a few words assign reasons for the supposition. If we only consider the gradual rise of every art and study to perfection, and the rapid strides with which any of the most useful and general gain it, we must come to the natural conclusion, that it was the same in the art of coining; and it is this circumstance alone which leads medallic writers to place those with the double female head, the quadrigated car, and indented ROMA, at the head of the list; and on comparing them, even with others struck before the time of Julius, a certain rudeness is evident, though the bold and masterly execution defies the artists of the present time. rate education and abilities introduced society of this description: a question proposed for consideration; he hears his ers give clear and correct opinions upon subject of which he is entirely ignorant here is the mind so destitute of laudable bition as not to wish for the knowledge I shall preface my next remark with an old and all but himself possess?-The arguments true adage: "That what is done in a hurry can never be done well." Now, it seems to me, against debating societies, in general, are so that a number of our streets and public edifices puerile and untenable that it is unnecessary have been built in this way, and many of them in a or me to enter on their defence; but against great hurry, in order to afford room and accommodation to our fast-increasing population: this, perrivate and select ones, I think, even the haps, may account for the very slovenly and unfiLost querulous cannot raise an objection. but I think it cannot amount to an apology for it; nistred appearance of many parts of Liverpool; In order to place such societies upon a for, which ever way we direct our observation, we frmanent basis, it is desirable they should are continually annoyed with half-finished houses ⚫ connected with something to give its with the nuisance of all the building materials lying and streets, that have been in that state for months, embers an interest in their duration: the about in the most unpleasant manner; and we can archase, and distribution for perusal, of scarcely pass through a street, a little out of the common thoroughfares, without seeing an open space, joks generally, or Reviews and Maga- (that ought to be built upon to preserve uniformity) the receptacle of almost every thing that can be nes only, would effect this object. offensive to the eye. In a town of such magnitude The heads of our mercantile houses have as Liverpool, all this is allowable to a certain degree, much in their power to institute such but not to the extent I now complain of. Whilst on this subject, I must allude to the present neg. ocieties, not only by their countenance, lected state of Dale-street. When the Act was ut by allowing the use of their offices for granted to enlarge and improve this very public throughfare, we were promised one of the finest reetings; and indeed there are many esta- streets in the town, on the old one being pulled lishments in town sufficiently large to form down, and, with management, it certainly might be made so; and in the first place, from every appear ocieties in themselves; and what could be ance, we were led to expect this; but how we have nore gratifying to a man of generous mind, been disappointed! It is true a few shops have than to see his young men at the close of the the commencement of the street, near the Exbeen built, but not of a corresponding height with I shall now proceed to the Consular, commencing day shutting the ledger of commerce, and change; and the parapets have also been very neatly with a remark of Patin's, on this species of coin, opening an account with science? Surely agree with me here, and say, it is actually a pity to cette espece de médailles : Quoy que leur antiquité laid out but this is not all: I am sure you will" Je ne puis cacher ici la passion que jay pour such a mode of spending an evening is pre-behold so fine a site of street-ground unemployed, y contribuë, ce n'est pourtant pas la principale erable to those more generally adopted. At present it absolutely looks like the ruins of an aussi les noms de tant de personnes illustres, qui ne and adding neither ornament nor ertility to the town. raison qui me les fait considerer. Ce ne sont pas earthquake, or the effects of a dreadful conflagra seroient pas péris, s'ils ne s'étaient conservez dans tion. I am very glad to see the flagging system ces monumens, quoy que cela leur donne encore de introduced at last; but hope the Commissioners grands avantages sur les autres. C'est la descripof the highways will finish the public streets first, tion si exacte de tant de mystères, et de tant d'actions before they turn their attention to more unfrequent-¡particulières qui s'y rencontrent plus que dans les ed ones. autres espèces." Nor can I, 1 hope, do better than I have been induced to make these remarks from mention a few of those actions, which such an emithe result of strangers' observation, as well as my nent medallist has considered their greatest recomown; and I hope the taste of our enlightened in- mendation; I shall, therefore, select the most rehabitants will not permit them to neglect any longer markable from the Pembrokian collection, as illus the public appearance of Liverpool, which, in a com-trative of their great advantage to historians. mercial point of view, may justly rank as the second port in the world; and as we must be open to the observation of travelers, both of taste and experience, from all parts of the globe, we ought to put it out of their power to throw out any illiberal aspersions on the character of our inhabitants, when the remedy is so easy and the means so completely under our control. 22 TO THE EDITOR. W. SIR,--The great liberality with which your very interesting paper is conducted induces me to It may be said, that appearances of this species collect a few thoughts on the present state of Liver- are of no consideration, and too trivial to occupy pool, as connected with the many public improve-any of our attention from the great business of the ments now carrying forward; and as I am well port: but I think appearances ought always to be aware you are a warm admirer of every thing that has studied, as they add much to the respectability of a tendency to promote the interests of society, I feel character, and in this instance would supply much satisfied you will also prove, at all times, equally zea-harmony and regularity, which, I am sorry to relous în supporting every design that has the accom- mark, is now much waiting in many parts of Liver plishment of these ends for its object, pool. I think it would be an admirable thing, and In casting my eye over inany of our late improve-i know of no plan that would accomplish my wishes On one of the family of Omilia, we see the consul Lepidus, who was sent by the senate and people of Rome to govern Egypt, crowning the young Ptolemy, his pupil, and who qualifies himself in the office, TVTOR REGIS. We have the visage of the almost deified Cleopatra on those coins, struck by her devoted Marc Antony, belonging to the family of Antonia. And we see the boasted Ides of March, with the Cap of Liberty, vainly supposed to be restored, on the coins of Caesar's murderer, which are placed with the family of Junia. On another we have the representation of Eneas, who, after his long absence, is recognised by his faithful dog, who fawne at his inaster's feet. And many more I might mention. equally interesting and useful, but I shall leave them for other information. Patin but mentions having seen 42 consular gold coins, 741 of silver, and 254 of copper; the latter ex |