his acting. Miss Grant's Louison, although inferior | in the piece put together. The former ought to be
in archness and vivacity to that of the charming seen by every one who admires stage machinery, and
Miss Tree, is nevertheless an excellent performance. if that were the case, the managers would be well
Repeated plaudits testified the decided approbation repaid for their expense and spirit. Amongst all the
of the audience, which is no light compliment after novelty of the season, how is it that these gentlemen
the recent interesting personation of this character have not brought out Virginius? Surely it is not
possible they can be waiting for the London repre-
by ber predecessor.
sentative, after the success which this season and
the last attended the exertions of their own company.
Liverpool, Friday Noon.
G. N.

TO THE EDITOR.

she grows peremptory in her turn, and says that she will ot make such idle haste against her father's wish. The Tempyre now grows wild in his turn, for the moment of the going down of the moon is approaching. He seizes her hand, draws his dagger, and is about to carry her of by force, when the attendants prevent him; the father, communicating his eagerness to all about him, looks eagerly at the sky; a supernatural noise is heard; the Fane pyre, shrieks and crys out he is lost; and the It affords me considerable pleasure to record the moon dipping down at that minute, he is struck with improvement in the sugene de Biron of Mr. Bass. Hightning, and spirits appear at the window, beneath The notorious faults pointed out in my last no lonwhich, he rolls into a sudden gap. This is certainly one of the best melo dramas that ger disfigure this performance, which is now a chaste have been seen for a long while, and will undoubtedly be and favourable specimen of Mr. Bass's dramatic popular. The interest of it is very striking; and it is powers. Mr. Davis's D'Aumont is still deficient in naturally so, and may be accounted for upon other prin- dignity, and the humour is too low: the particular SIR. Having observed in the Liverpool Adrerciples than that of a mere survival of the tastes of our vulgarism, however, noticed in a late Kaleidoscope, tiser, of Tuesday last, a paragraph animadverting childhood. The liking for stories of a supernatural turn is considerably softened, if not entirely eradicated. upon the impropriety of introducing a song and has long been one of the signs of the times; and whether If these judicious alterations have originated in the duet in the new Opera of the Antiquary; and being ein its highest or commonest shape, originates in that re- strictures which have appeared in your pages, it one of the individuals liable to be affected by the vived sense of our nature and its mysteries, which great proves the usefulness of such strictures, and a desire charges contained in the accusation, I shalt, I trust, convulsions of the world always press upon the human to profit by them. I hope your theatrical corres- escape the imputation of presumption, if through be a mind. An inclination for supernatural stories is thus revived, not in the shape of actual belief as of old, but in the pondents will be stimulated to make their observa the medium of your interesting miscellany, I take Aspirit of that very liberality and enlargement of think-tions still more worthy of attention; and that, by the an opportunity of stating, that the music of the ing which allows every one his own belief: which finds correctness, spirit, and good temper of their criti-piece as performed here, is precisely the same as out the cause of their excitement; and which has dis- cisms, they may become powerful auxiliaries to the that now sung at Covent Garden: the duet "Subcovered that there may be "more things in heaven and rational and elegant amusements of the stage. due the hopeless flame," the poetry of which has earth, than were dreamt of" by the drawing-room phi- The Antiquary, which has attracted attention by been adapted to the vulgar although popular air of losophy of a hundred years back. The self-satisfaction the just celebrity of the novel from which it is taken," Miss Bailey's Ghost," which was found to prowhich some persons exhibit in finding out that scepti.. cism itself can enjoy an old wife's story, and even be is from first to last a dull insipid piece, and the duce a ridiculous association of ideas, very injurisuperstitious, is very idle and shallow. Scepticism, acting I am sorry to add, is by no means such as to ous to its effect as a serious production, and in confrom its very nature, has a wider range of imagination increase the fame of the Liverpool company; or of sequence, the substitution of "Go where Glory than superstition itself; for the latter fixes what we are Mr. Blanchard, who enacts the part of Curon in an waits thee" took place, which latter duet has been to believe; while the former does not pretend to be able unnatural and baby like style. Mr. Tayleure's sung by Miss Stephens and Mr. Duruset ever since to fix any thing except the general kindness of nature, Oldbuck is a strange compound of some six or eight the first or second night of performance. and would only make the best and pleasantest both of of his other characters, and bore no resemblance omission of the Ballad " Adored and beauteous this world and that which is to come. whatever to the satirical and humourous original. Isabel," arose from its having been found totally To return to the melo drama. We do not mean to Mr. M'Gibbon, whom for his general propriety of ineffective, and the song "Adieu my native shore," horrify any of our readers, old or young, with saying that our spectre in a hat and boots is at all in the most acting I admire, commits himself egregiously in was introduced in its stead; the name of the au probable taste of the improbable. Though appaling the the character of Sir Arthur Wardour. It is thor of which (Lord Byron) will prove a sufficient from his singularity, and from that mixture of the fa.excessively coarse and vulgar, and he deserves the attestation of its merits; and to shew that such miliar with the unaccustomed, and death with life, which severest castigation for the buffoon-like and farcical innovations are not without precedent, it is only is the most ghastly of irrational fancies, we only speak of manner in which he conducts the quarrel with Mr. necessary to refer to most of the modern Operas, him as awakening the feeling above mentioned in a ge- Oldhuck. I confess that Mr. M'Gibbon perfectly viz. Guy Mannering, Rob Roy, The Slave, &c.; need neral point of view. And yet we are not at all sure he confounded me by his gross departure from cha-1 adduce the alterations made in all the acting is not to be met with. If there are not Vampyres who suck racter in this particular instance. He could Plays of Shakespear, Massinger and Beaumont, the blood there are Vampyres who waste the heart and bave thrown a caustic severity into this scene, which and Fletcher, &c. 1 am, Sir, happiness of those they are connected with. There are Your obedient servant, Vampyres of avarice, Vampyres of spleen, Vampyres of would have made it very effective. Why he did not debauchery, Vampyres in the shapes of selfishness and it is impossible to say, but assuredly his performance Sprinfield-street, Aug. 18th. domestie tymany. What is the seducer and abandoner is at present altogether beneath what might be exof a trusting young girl but a Vampyre, not sufficiently pected from a man of his judgment. alive to the harm of his own cruelty? What is a husband who marries for money and then tramples upon his wife, but a Vampyre? What is the poisonous basom-snake," of which Milton writes so much, but a female Vampyre, wearing a man's heart out by holding him without loving him?

34

It has justly been objected to the author of the melo drama that he has laid his scenes in the Isles of Scotland, which, though a country of superstition, has not particularly given into this. He had better have put it in the cast, among our old Arabian-Night acquaintances, the Goules; or in Germany, where the Vampyre came to his ghastliest estate; or in Greece, where it is first traceable as the Lamia-a creature which Mr. Keats has just turned to such fine account. But in calling his production a mele drama, and sprinkling it with the occasional music of that class of drama (which he need not have done) he seems to have purposely made his pretension as modest as possible, and a perfect propriety is not to be demanded of him. With little that is worth serious mention in the writing, he has contrived to produce a dramatic action of much interest and suspence.

Mrs. M'Gibbon is an actress of considerable
merit, she does nothing very ill, and her per-
Her Lady
formances are occasionally very fine.
Mucbeth and Queen Katharine cannot be excelled
by any actress now upon the English stage. 1, how-
ever, differ from those who lavish praise on her for
the truth or power with which she depicts the "old
decrepit care-worn Elspeth." Her performance is by
no meaus equal to what I had expected. She en-
tirely overlooks the fierce and vivid wildness of the
character, and there was an unnatural dissonance
between her voice and action: this was weak and
tottering; that was round, full toned, and forced.
It is but fair to add, that many good judges give
great praise to her entire performance +

The storm scene and "the offspring of Apollo
and Euterpe" pleased me more than every thing else

Not only do we differ from G. N. on this point, but inform him, that we have seen a very well written critique of the Antiquary, in which the acting of Mr. Blanchard is highly eulogised. The fact is, the character itself is so insipid, that it requires sauce piquant to render it palatable.

The

W. P. LARKIN.

SOCIAL GENEALOGY.

It is a curious and pleasant thing to consider, that a link of personal acquaintance can be traced up from the authors of our own times to those of Shakspeare, and to Shakspeare himself. Such of us as have shaken hands with a living poet might be able, perhaps, to reckon up a series of connecting shakes to the very hand that wrote Hamlet, Falstaff, and Desdemona. With some living poets, it is certain. There is Thos. Moore, for instance, who knew Sheridan. Sheridan knew Johnson, who was the friend of Savage, who knew Steele, who knew Pope. Pope was intimate with Congreve, and Congreve with Dryden. Dryden is said to venant; and to have been saved by him from the revenge of the restored court, in return for having saved Davenant from the revenge of the Commonwealth. But if the link between Dryden and Milton, and Milton and Davenant is somewhat apocryphal, or rather dependant on tradition (for Richardson, the painter, tells us the latter from Pope, who had it from Betterton the actor, one of Davenant's company) it may be carried at once from Dryden to Davenant, with whom he was unquestionably intimte. Davenant then knew Hobbes, who knew Bacon, who knew Ben Jonson, who was intimate with Beaumont and Fletcher, Chapman, Donne, Dray

have visited Milton. Milton is said to have known Da

Shakspeare.

In our opinions G. N. had a much greater score for criticism in the character itself, than in its very ableton, Caniden, Selden, Clarendon, Sydney, Raleigh, and perhaps all the great men of Elizabeth's and James's representative. We are surprised that any dramatic time, the greatest of them all undoubtedly. Thus have author could venture upon so hazardous an experiment on public patience and public taste, as to introduce we a link of "beamy hands" from our own time up to upon the boards the revolting spectacle of a miserable decrepit old wretch, withered alike in body and in mind; whose occasional glimmerings of intellect serve only to render her still more wretched, by the recollection of dreadful and unexpiated guilt.

The Death of Action, by Titian, which sold at the late Mr. West's sale of pictures for seventeen hundred guineas, was, it seems, purchased by the late venerable President of the Royal Academy for thirty pounds.

BY EGERTON SMITH AND CO. Liverpool Mercury Office. the beauteous Eliza had sat in the deepest meditation, Sold also by John Bywater and Co. Pool-lane; Messrs. she was now lying in the whirlpool below, a wretched victim of sorrow and despair.

If, therefore, we take into account the great dif. ference in the temperature of the water, and I assure you, from the idea I have of it, I would much rather he immersed for an hour and ten minutes in the for assistance; but all remained still, save the hoarse "With trembling anxiety I began to look and call Hellespont, than for thirty minutes in the Mersey, murmuring of the waters; and I was left to the meit leaves the feat of his Lordship and his friend ra-lancholy task of dragging this unfortunate being from ther in the background, in comparison with that of her watery grave. When this was accomplished I be "these modern Leanders," gan to examine if there were any traces of lingering life; but alas! I was too late; for the fatal act seemed

OR,

Literary and Scientific Mirror.

“ UTILE DULCI,”

5.

No. 9.-NEW SERIES.

stuf."

The Gleaner.

WOTTON.

The following singular and pathetic story is taken from the first number of a recently published work, called the Literary Miscellany, for the loan of which

we have to thank a friend.

smote their ears and startled their secret | thoughts. If this be nothing more than sorrowing with its measured and obstinate womanly timidity, bear with it, dearest, for my sake, and give me courage by staying by my side through the night.”

"Be comforted, my love," replied her husband. "This weakness is common

“I am buts gatherer and disposer of other men's recurrence? The glad colour of the grass and of the leaves was not in harmony with their mourning garments; and the vital sun could scarcely be rejoiced in, shining as it did on their tears, and on that dark, slow- enough. You will be better in the mornmoving hearse. ing; and in the mean time I shall not stir from your bed. You will talk to me in á different manner, when, after you have had a good sleep, I shall show you the cheerful sun-light stealing on the dawn. I see, even now, your eyes are closing; compose yourself therefore, dear one, and sleep."

THE DISINTERMENT,

A SKETCH.

The service for the burial of the dead is not easily endured by even an unconnected auditor; so oppressive is the obscure and

BỸ THE AUTHOR. ÓF "ALTHAM AND HIS WIFE" gloomy imagination in which it is written.

..........My late espoused saint

Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave,

Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint. 1. Milton.

What then must our mourners have felt
(their loss being unexpected and sorely
afflicting) when the priest, meeting the dull
coffin at the church-porch, walked on before
it repeating his solemn words? Then the
agony of grief burst forth in sobs and hys
terics; and then did the dreary thought
arise, that there was nothing but corruption
and mortification

The chamber was hushed: the patient lay still, and seemed in so profound a repose, that her breathing was not heard. The curtains were softly adjusted round her On a fine day in the month of June, a bed; and Sir William, happy and full of funeral procession issued from the park favourable omens in the idea that his wife gates of Woodley Hall, in the county of had at length a remission of pain, took a Gloucester. The poor inhabitants of the But we are slaves of circumstances; for book, and fixing as much attention on it as neighbouring village hovered about the these ideas, which seemed to lie down im- he could command, wore the night-hours train with mute reverence; paying the last moveably in despair, were soon lifted into away. Every thing within and without sad testimony of respect and affection to happy aspirations on the swell of the organ's continued in deep stillness, broken only one who had been endeared to them by sounds; and the cottagers who stood towards the morning by the pleasant sounds many acts of kindness and solicitude. They moodily in the churchyard while the silence of awakening nature, which might be heard were following to its cold home the corpse continued, were also relieved by the music, in so removed a place, the shrill birds, the of Eliza, wife of Sir William Fanshaw. and blest it as it trembled out into the sunny wheeling hum of the bees darting from their Never was there a lovelier summer-day air. hives in the garden below, and the leaves than the one appointed for this dismal cere- When the lady of whom I write was dallying with the morning breath. These, mony. The trees looked proudly in the stricken with illness, which was only a week together with the strong white lines which Justiness of their. young green; the dark before her death, she begged her husband intersected the shutters, admonished Sir blue of the sky was unspotted by a single to bring her the gold chain and locket en-William and the nurse of the time their cload; and the sun shot out his sultry closing his hair, which he had given her patient had slept. The light was therestrength, making the birds wanton and before their marriage. This she hung noisy with the exuberance of their joy. round her neck, and solaced her weary and Alas! what was all this glory of nature painful hours with contemplating it, and by "How is this?" said Sir William. to the sad company who were moving along force of the association of ideas it excited, has not moved a hair's breadth since we saw the road, thinking of the tomb and the living again in times gone by. One evening her last night. Good God! how pale her premature death of that young, beautiful, she beckoned Sir William, who was sitting face and lips are! Heaven grant all may and virtuous one whom they were conveying in her chamber, to her side, and said:-be well; but I tremble under my fears. thither? How could they enjoy the quick"Reach me your hand, my dear husband. Go instantly, and bring the physician." carols of the birds, when the death-bell, I am growing much worse. I feel a perilous The physician came; he was alarmed at gaining in strength as they proceeded, sinking in my frame, and death is in my her appearance; a feather was placed on

fore admitted into the room, and they looked into the bed.

She

4

her lips, and Sir William bent with keen from the genial air without, and the vacant | derment, the first thing which met his eyes eyes over it. It did not move. Alas! alas! pews standing in deep shadow like melan- was the great moon lifting itself in the un her spirit had passed away, while her hus- choly and drear recesses. The nature of abated power of its light over the horizon's band, sitting close to her, was congratu- his office had given him a familiarity with the edge. It shone right opposite, and seemed lating himself on the prospect of her re-building, but had not worn away the idea looking at and coming to expose him. He covery. in his mind of its sacredness, and he quaked did not dare to lift his eyes again; but, to think that it should be the spot where he without stopping even to lock up the church was to perpetrate the first deed in his life he flew over the fields pursued by his fears. which he would be ashamed to own. As he went along the aisle with his lamp, the white tombstones on the walls glared, as it were, reproachfully upon him one by one, and his perturbation was increased by the dart of a bat close to his face. He almost regretted he had come, but he went on nevertheless, and passed into the lady's sepulchre.

She must have stirred once in the night, though it was done with such gentleness as not to be perceived; for one of her hands was found inside her garment pressing the locket, of which I have spoken, on her naked breast.

I will not attempt to describe the swelling of her husband's heart, and the gush of his tears, when this touching instance of her love was made known to him. His soul brooded over it night and day. He saw in her action the wish she had not strength to utter in words, and determining it should not be violated, he gave directions that she should be placed in her coffin without disturbing the locket or her hand.

It will be readily imagined that so affecting a circumstance could not escape being much talked of, and as in these cases no particulars are ever omitted, the value of the trinket, which was set round with brilliants, found a place in the story.

It was at this time about eleven o'clock, The domestics at Woodley Hall had not yet retired to rest. Their minds were agitated and unsettled by the funeral; and they found relief in sitting up together and talking over the circumstances connected with their lady's illness and sudden death. With hearts so full, they could not endure the silence of their chambers, and it would have been vain to try to sleep; therefore about the time I have just mentioned, they left their room and dull candles, to go out under the portico of the house and enjoy the balmy night air and the bright moon.

Having laid down his lamp upon a coffin close by, he proceeded with his instruments to take off the lid of the one he sought, which was soon effected. This was the first moment of real irresolution and terror. The sight of the corpse lying there by that The subject of their talk continued the dim light in the heavy stillness of death same: the youth of their lady, her gentlewith its white and placid countenance, made ness, her unaccountable illness, the sublime his heart swell and his nerves powerless. testimony she gave of her love even in the The sublimity of the sight made him feel grasp of death; and then of what would the meanness of his action with double become of their heart-broken master who The sexton of the church containing the force; he almost fainted, and with the had been secluded in his room all day, family vault was one of the persons to whom intention of abandoning the business he scarcely admitting any one even to bring this anecdote became known, and he was returned into the body of the church. not long in conceiving a plan by which he There he supported himself for a time while might possess himself of the buried jewels the coolness of the air refreshed him, and which glittered so temptingly in his mind's he was at length about to depart, when eye. I do not think he would have medi- recollecting that the lid of the coffin should tated a common theft, a theft capable of be replaced, he summoned a strong effort, injuring any living creature: nay, although and went again into the vault for that purhe was in business, he was never known to pose. practice any of the usual tricks or decep- But the sight of the corpse was not now tions of trade. He was a charitable, well-so awful to him as before. The consternameaning man; but he could not comprehend tion had done its utmost. There was an the sentiment which ordained those love-imperceptible return of the original intentokens to lie in hallowed immoveability on tion in his mind, and by a quick effort he a dead breast. It was in his opinion a silly lifted the body, drew the chain over the waste of treasure: no harm could come of head, disengaged the locket from under his appropriating it; and he therefore de- the hand, and then lowered the corpse termined that on the night of the funeral again into its place. As he did this, the he would enter, the vault, open the coffin, arm which before lay upon the breast fell They did not stop to see any more; but, and remove the jewels. The church was with a strange flexibility over the side of bastening to their master's room, told him well situated for his purpose; it stood apart the coffin, and a faint sigh came from the what they had witnessed. from the village to which it belonged, and body.

him needful refreshment,-when one of them with a low voice said:" What can that white thing be which is fluttering about the beech trees there at the farthest end of the long walk?". They looked and nothing was seen. It was however only leaf-hidden for a time, for presently it emerged altoge ther from the obscurity of the trees, and they saw it plainly enough.

The walk was about a quarter of a mile in length. The object advanced down it, and soon a fearful sight was seen by the company under the portico; an apparently human figure with long trailing white gar ments, staggering and stumbling across the open park at that solemn hour, and under the keen moonlight.

He answered them with his faint voice was a solitary edifice in the midst of fields. Had a thunderclap broken in upon the from within :-" Go to rest, my friends, go Behold him then in the darkness of the silence, the man would not have been more to rest. Your minds are disturbed; and, to night with his lantern at the lone church-staggered than he was at this little sigh. tell you the truth, my own is too much door. He unlocks it and passes in. He He rushed hastily forth, left the sepulchre subdued just now to bear the hearing of was at first rather awe-struck by the dead unclosed, and opened the church-door to such things. Shut up the house; good stillnesss, the sudden cold smell so different go out; when, as if to increase his bewil-night."

But they all persisted so strenuously in dreary, dark place, and was startled there "I received," says he, " on the evening before the avuching the truth of what they had by a sudden rush of cold wind. I seemed remarkable day, a note, or invitation ticket, from sta zed, that Sir William came from his to fall many times and to bruise myself gilded flowers, and folded up in the form of a fan: my patron, which was on red paper, strewed with chamber, and said he would go with them exceedingly in endeavouring to struggle I had to return an immediate answer, but was again into the park and see whether the apparition out towards the light. This must have been written to on the following morning, for fear I might was yet visible. Poor man! he was at this a dream; but I am certain I have been have forgotten the invitation: I replied however, as time ill calculated to dissipate the terror wandering out of doors in my sleep, for I directed, that I had rather forget the name of my which had taken hold of his servants. thought I should have gone mad when my evening a third message, stating that all was now father and my own; and received therefore towards by Sorrow, want of food, long privation of perceptions came to me and I found myself ready, and that Kraghao expected me with the most eve sleep, the dismal business of the day, and alone, barefooted, and the wide and silent lively impatience: I sent him word, that his imthen this phantom story, had almost bewil- park stretching far around me. I have patience could not possibly equal my own, and dered his faculties, and he descended the endeavoured, but it is in vain, to recollect that was now on the point of setting out on the stairs trembling and uncollected, any circumstance connected with my leaving happiest journey of my life. Before they had reached the bottom, one the house." er of the servants cried out with a wild voice, Look, Sir, look!"

I am afraid I have done wrong," it said, "but I must have been in a dream; do not be angry with me."

"I then stept gravely into my palanquin, having on each side a servant, who held a large fan in such a manner, that I could not see a step before me in the street, and, arriving at the mansion, I issued from under my fans, and proceeded slowly through the first court into the second, where I perceived before the large double door two richly-dressed porters, holding the parasol and the large fan of their master, that one might not be able to look into the room; but all at once they withdrew their imple. ments, and the great man stood before me. "Now began a series of compliments, which any uninformed spectator would take for mere jokes, notwithstanding the gravity with which they are performed: we bowed and courtisied from one side to the other, pushed each other from the right to the leftbecause the right hand is not always the place of honour in China-we kneeled sometimes on one knee and then on the other; in short, I danced with mine host a kind of pantomime, whereby the number of motions was exactly prescribed. After that followed the spoken civilities, the fine phrases and the ho nourable titles which we bestowed upon each other: at last, the master of the house invites his guest by dumb show to advance, but this is in the like manner declined, and when the landlord repeats his request in words, the stranger replies for a long time-Lucan-I dare not; until he gives way in the end to a soft compulsion.

Her husband shook from head to foot at this. The coffin and the hearse swam inSir William cast his eyes downwards, stantly in his eyes. He was sick at heart and lo! there, upon the cold stone-floor of with the oppression of a mystery; but he the hall, lay a figure entangled in unseemly looked at his wife again and blessed heaven. dclothes, moaning and sobbing naturally. Having addressed a few cheering words The face was partially exposed. Sir Wil- to her, and promised not to leave her side, liam saw it. His faculties seemed suddenly he exhorted her to be composed and to scattered, for in a confused manner he endeavour to sleep. dropped on his knees by the side of the In the morning the whole thing was exfigure, and there remained a few moments plained. Some rustics passing by the with clasped hands and vacant and im- church had observed it to be open, and, moveable looks. At length a weak falter-going in, saw that one of the family vaults ing female voice was heard: was unclosed, and that there was an empty coffin in it. This information they carried forthwith to the sexton, who, alarmed at the probability of being detected (as some God! God! my wife!-How is this?- one might have seen him escaping by the No, no, no; it cannot be. She is in her moonlight) and fearing that his guilt would tomb! And yet this countenance and seem greater than it was, went to Woodley these grave-clothes strike away my senses Hall, and confessed the whole business, with wonder-Eliza! Eliza!-She cannot making a restitution of the locket, but despeak again. Yet she is not quite cold. claring that he knew nothing whatever of What can this mysterious visitation portend? the removal of the corpse. -Eliza! Let me once more hear that He was readily enough forgiven, and I voice-Silent! silent!-Lift her up. Look! believe rewarded. It was plain now that it is herself, her own self; her lips move; Lady Fanshaw had been buried in a trance. and see, her poor face is wet with tears. It was of the utmost consequence that the God alone knows how this has come to subject of the interment should be kept pass; but I will thank him for it for ever from her knowledge. The sexton was serve it afterwards to all the new comers. Kraghao There, gently, move her gently; lay her in enjoined to silence; but it was not so easy conducted me to the chair which he had destined for my arms, and some one go before me with to quell the tongues of the village. Besides, me, bowed towards it and wiped over it with a cora light." when the lady recovered sufficiently to go down, and, according to rule, kept myself as straight ner of his dress, as if to clear it from dust: I sat out, every object she saw in the direction as a fir, with downcast eyes, and both hands upon of the church perplexed her with some the knees, which were to be only three or four inches dim and uncomfortable reminiscence. She asunder. Tea was served, until all the invited were might some day stumble on the truth, and arrived, and then the governor of the household or Sir William in the fear of this sold his estate, mediately we rose from our seats, and went in the chief butler announced that dinner was ready: imand purchased another in a distant part of same order as we had sat into a large yet more the country. In this latter place Lady splendidly decorated room. Here we found a table Fanshaw gave birth to a large family, and spread for every individual, but in such a manner, lived many years with her husband in health that there were always two opposite to each other and comfort.

It was indeed his wife whom he embraced. He carried her to his chamber, laid her in the bed, and ordered warm restoratives to be prepared. These he administered himself, and she slept for two hours. On awaking she said:

"Are you there, my dear? let me hear you speak. Something strange has happened to me, I am sure. Have I been delirious? I wish they had watched me better; for I am certain that I have been Wandering out in the open air. It terrifies The to think of it. The dream I have had since I saw you, dear husband, last night, Presses-on me with an intolerable sense of Feality. It must have been those ghastly isions which scared me out of the house

in my sleep. I am full of pain. My feet

re sore and bleeding. Reach me your hand, and comfort me with your voice. I ancied that I was just now staying obstiately and yet unwillingly in a painful,

A CHINESE DINNER.

"I stept into a great hall, which rested upon immense pillars, covered, like the walls, with a shining varnish, spangled with gold: here and there were sweet-smelling flowers in fine vases, various pictures, and costly jars of earthenware. There were already several guests assembled, and they all rose from their seats to meet me a few steps: this civility had to return to every one singly, and also to ob

I

along the wall.

"A small silver cup was now brought for the master of the house, and he seized it with both hands, saluted the guests all round, proceeded then a few steps forwards, directing both the cup and his eyes towards heaven, and shed the wine upon the

Translated from the German of Kotzebue, for the ground, to signify, that he owed every gift to hea

Kaleidoscope.

An European, having rendered a service to a Chinese officer of consequence, was invited by him to a feast, and being aware how important the observation of the most minute ceremony would be in such a case, he took care to get properly instructed, that he might enjoy himself in comfort.

ven.

"A second cup was then brought to him, which he placed, after much resistance, upon the table of the principal guest; who replied immediately to this civility, by asking likewise for a cup, and placing it on the master's table, notwithstanding all protestations. At last the servants brought the little ivory sticks, laid out with gold, of which the Chinese make use instead of forks : another quarter of an hour was