صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

THE TALES OF A TRAVELLER.

327

Madame Saqui's fireworks and Aesh I now, for ths first time in my thecoloured pantaloons; and Nature, Shak- atrical life, experience what true pleasure speare, the legitimate drama, and poor is. I have kvown enough of notoriety Pillgarlic, were completely left in the to pity the poor devils who are called lurch.

favourites of the public. I would rather When Madame Saqui's performance be a kitten in the arms of a spoiled grew stale, other wonders succeeded; child, to be one moment patted and pamhorses, harlequinades, and mummery of pered, and the next moment thumped all kinds ; until another dramatic pro over the head with the spoon. I smile digy was brought forward to play the to see our leading actors fretting themvery game for which I had been in- selves with envy and jealousy about a tended. I called upon the kept author trumpery renown, questionable in its for an explanation, but he was deeply quality, and uncertain in its duration. I engaged in writing a melo-drame or a laugh, too, though of course in my sleeve, pantomime, and was extremely testy on at the bustle and importance, and troubeing interrupted in his studies. How. ble and perplexities of our manager ever, as the theatre was in some measure who is harrassing himself to death in the pledged to provide for me, the manager hopeless effort to please every body. acted, accordiug to the usual phrase, I have found among my fellow subal« like a man of honour," and I received terns, two or three quondam managers, an appointment in the corps. It had who, like myself, have wielded the scepbeen a turn of a'die whether I should be tres of country theatres, and we have many Alexander the Great, or Alexander the a sly joke together, at the expence of the coppersmith-the latter carried it. I manager and the public. Sometimes, could not be put at the head of the too, we meet like deposed and exiled drama, so I was put at the tail of it. In kings, talk over the events of our reother words, I was

os enrolled among the spective reigns, moralize over a tankard number of what are called useful men; of ale, and laugh at the humbug of the those who enact soldiers, senators, and great and little world, which, I take it, is Banquo's shadowy line. I was perfectly the essense of practical philosophy. satisfied with my lot; for I have always been a bit of a philosopher. If my

Driginal Poetry situation was not splendid, it at least SKETCHES FROM NATURE. was secure; and in fact I have seen half How long that lonely arch has borne a dozen prodigies appear, dazzle, burst The tempest's rage, the wintry storra! like bubbles and pass away, and yet here A monument of splendour gone, I am, snug, unenvied and unmolested at That ruined arch remains alone. the foot of the profession.

No part is left of that proud pile,

No fretted roof, no lengthened aisle ; No, no, you may smile; but let me

No trace, save that lone arch appears, tell you, we “useful men” are the only To tell a tale of lengthened years! comfortable actors on the stage. We are All, all is changed—no matin hell safe from hisses, and below the hope of Now echoes through the woody dell;. applause. We fear not the success of No evening hymn of praise is heard, riyals, nor dread the critic's pen. So No beads are told, no pray'r preferred. long as we get the words of our parts, Once trod that cloister walk--but now

Those who had paid the holy vow, and they are not often many, it is all we

Far different footsteps echo there, care for. We have our own merriment, Far different objects claim their care. our own friends, and our own admirers. The cloistered monk, the baron proud, for every actor has his friends and Beneath the stroke of Time have bowed : admirers, from the highest to the lowest. Yet still that Gothic arch remains, The first-rate actor dines with the noble A restige of their old domains. amateur, and entertains a fashionable And when my feeble frame is laid table with scraps and songs and theutrical That ruined arch, so fair and lone,

Beneath the grave's eternal shade, slip-slop. The second-rate actors bave Will tell the tale of ages gone.

M. their second-rate friends and admirers, with whom they likewise spout tragedy Look at that star, that, rising bright,

Now
gems

the coronet of night, and talk slip-slop-and so down even to

And when away, my love, from thee, us; who have our friends and admirers Its rays shall bid thee think on me. among spruce clerks and aspiring ap. For like that star thine image seems, prentices who treat us to a dinner now Pure, gentle, lovely as its beams; and then, and enjoy at tenth band the And thy sweet smile, so calm and bright, same scraps and songs and slipslop that shines brighter still in sorrow's night. have been served up by our more for- Then, love, together we will gaze, tunate brethren at the tables of the Though severed far, our thoughts shall meet. great.

And mingle, in that calm retreat. M

The Cuts by the celebrated Bewick.

[graphic]
[ocr errors]

No. XI.-THE BISHOP.

No. XII.-THE COUNT. I will smite the Shepherd, and the sheep of Rebuke the company of spearmen; scatter the flock shall be scattered abroad.

thou the people that delight in war. MATT. xxvi. 31.

PSALM lxviii. 30. With an air of tranquillity and re Death here adds to his usual employsignation this worthy Pastor follows

ment that of avenger of oppressed vasDeath, who is leading him away laughing sals. He is throwing with violence at and dancing, whilst some shepherds for- the head of this Lord, his coat of arms, getting their focks, are wandering here the dear object of his pride, under the and theve through the country, in despair weight of which he is ready to make him for the loss of their chief. The sun, now fall. He appears trampling under fuot ready to set, is just about to leave in a flail, to mark his inhumanity to labourdarkness the ill-fated flocks, who, having ers, a class of society so necessary and no longer a conductor, will soon become respectable. On the ground also are to the prey of wolves and other ravenous be seen the remains of the helmet which animals.

formed the crest of his arms, with the

other ornaments that decorated, them. CURIOUS COURTSHIP.-A young gen

THE JEW'S HARP. tleman ayd lady happened to be in the MEN of genius are fond of paradoxes. same pew in a free church in America. Rousseau abounds with them, and a During the course of the Sermon, the celebrated German writer, a man of firstyouth read something in the eyes of the rate abilities and refined taste, has not fair, which made a deeper impression on hesitated gravely to declare it as his his mind than the pious lecture of the opinion, that the Jews' Harp is capable Preacher. As love, although blind, is of being carried to a high degree of pernever at a loss for expedients, he pre- fection, and of forming a great addition sented the maiden, whose charms had at- to the modern orchestra. He expects tracted his notice, with the following yet to see the day, when sonatas and vapassage, being the 5th verse of the riations may be produced upon it, and Second Epistle of John :

considers it as possessing the most “Now I beseech thee, Lady, not as though I delicate tones in the world. He thus wrote a new commandineat unto thee, but that concludes: “Perhaps some genius may which we bad from the beginning, that we love one another."

arise, who may be able to modify the After reading this passage, the lady, in melody of this instrument, and give it reply, promptly referred her suitor to laws at present unknown. Certain it is, another passage, in the Old Testament that there are some advantages which, -namely, the 16th verse of the 1st even now, it possesses over all other inchapter of Ruth :

struments, and on none can that modifica" Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return tion of sound, called the stuccato, be more from following after thee, for whither thou goest delicately given, or brought more im. thy, people shall be my people, and thy God mediately under the dominion of the shall be my God."

feelings.

329

The ANCE of DEATV.
Una The Cuis by the celebrated Bewick.

[graphic]
[ocr errors]

7

No. XIII.-THE ABBE. T focus No. XIV.-THE ABBESS. His own iniquities shall take the wicked him Wherefore I praised the dead, which are self, and he shall be holden by the cords of his already dead, more than the living, which are sins. No e o PROV. iv. 22. yet alive.

ECCLES. iv. 2. Death, not contented with stripping DEATH Judicrously hooded with sevethis fat Prelate of his crosier, which he is ral flowing plumes, and robed in a kind carrying in triumph on his shoulder, and of gown, carries out of her convent an his mitre, with which he is dressing bim- Abbess, whom he is dragging with all his self, is dragging him away without pity. might by her scapulary. The reverend Ile raises his breviary with one hand, and Mother with regret is leaving life and with the other is making some vain the honours she enjoys; and expresses, efforts to push him off.

by the alteration of her features and by her eries, the fright that Death has produced in her soul. Behind her, under the gate of the convent, appears a young Nun, strangely agitated with terror and grief.

to go.

[ocr errors]

A POET IN A DILEMMA.
ODE TOP-W - By T. F. C.

A poet on his high-bred nag,
[Found; in pencil, behind a window-shutter.] Was riding down a hill ;
Oh! why does my heart give such lots of up-

He could not much of couage brag,
heavings?

So made his bosse stand still,
And why does my bosom go up and down so!

While be inquired of a clown,
'Tis because, cruel maid ! you're so full of de-

In a neighbouring farm-yard.

Whether a little lower down
ceivings;

The bottom would be hard.
To perform all you swore, you ne'er come for

Aye, hard enough, I'll warrant you,"

The country fellow said;
When you passes our house, where I looks thro'

“ So ride along, you'll find it true;"
the winder-

Away the poet sped.
But, ah! not a look does you give in return; But at the bottom of the hill,
Cruel 'PEGGY! my hearis almost burnt to a

Into the mire he sank;
cinder:

Lay kicking, sprawling, lower still,
When I die, O pray let me be put in a hurn!

Beyond the horse's Hank.
You know I adore you, so pray don't exposem * Why, rogne," exclaimed the struggling bard

(Stul sinking farther down),
me;
And don't show my letters to nobody-con't;

" How could you call the bottom hard ?".
For perhaps you may show them to some one as Nay, patience ;' said the clown,"
knows me,

"The bottom's hard, I still aver; And I never will hear to be laugh'd at

" And truth alone I say ; won't.

But to the bottom, worthy sir,

You are not yet half way.' No, no! if you slight me, I'll go down to Pad

dington
And there, in despair, I'll no bones nuke of To give reproof in anger, to be sure,
Waterworks just where the pleasure-boats ply, ON THE RIGHT MANNER OF GIVING

REPROOP.
adding one
More to the number that's drowned-and

Whate'er the fault, is not the way to cure : die !

Yrs truly.

Would a wise doctor offer, dost thou think,
The sick his potion, scalding hot, to drink?

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

1

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

LEONORA; A SKETCH.

I remember nothing more until the

minute when I opened my eyes, and found Poor Alonzó ! he was the best friend myself in a pretty summer house, very that ever drank Xeres : he picked me out wet and very cold, with Alonzo and his of the Gandalquiver, when I deemed I sister leaning over me. « For the love had said my last prayer.

of heaven," were the first words I heard, It was a very conciliating introduction. * run, Alonzo, to call the servants." I never in my life made a friend of a “I wait,” said Alonzo, “to bear him man to whom I was introduced in a speak. If he be a Frenchman, he goes to formal kind of way, with hows from the bottom again." both parties, and cordiality from neither. The fates be thanked that I was born I love something more stirring, more in Derbyshire, and called Sir Harry my animated; the river of life is at best but a' father; if I had bathed in the Seine quiet stupid stream, and I want an instead of the Derwent, I had rued my ocensional pebble to ruffle its surface parentage bitterly. Alunzo detested the witbal. The most agreeable intro. French. duetions that ever fell to my lot were

From that time we were always these jo-my introduction to Pendragon, together. They were orphans, and had who was orerturned with me in the York searcely a relation in the world except an Mail ;-my introduction to Eliza, who annt, who had gone to the cloister, and contrived to faint in my arins on board an uncle who had crossed the sea, and a the Albion Paeket ;- and my introduction rich cousin who had betaken himself St. to Alonzo, who picked me out of the Jerome knew whither; bnt Alonzo, who Gaudalquiver,

had a much nearer coucern in the matter, I was strolling beside it on a fine seemed to know little enough about it. moonlight night, after a brilliant and They had travelled much, and Leonora fatiguing party, at which the lady Isidora was mistress apparently of the literature had made ten conquests, and Don Pedro of all Europe; yet they went rarely into had told twenty stories : I was tired to company, for they doted upon one another death of daueing and iced waters, glaring with a love so perfect and so engrossing, lights and lemonade; and as I looked on that you might have fancied them, as they the sleepy wave, and the dark trees, and fancied themselves, alone in the world, the cloudless sky, I felt that I could with no toil and no pleasure, but solitary wander there for ever, and dream of walks, and songs of tenderness, and poetry, and two or three friends.

gazings upon one another's eyes. If The sound of a guitar and a sweet ever perfection existed in woman, it 'voice waked me; I do not know why I existed here. I do not know why I did always associate the ideas of pleasant not fall in love with Leonora; but to be tones and bright eyes together ; but I sure, I was in love with five or six at the cannot help it, and of course I was very time. anxious to see the musician of the Gau. A few months flew delightfully away. dalquiver. I clambered, by the aid of Leonora taught me Spanish, and Alonzo cracked stones, and bushes which hung taught me to swim. Every morning to them, to the summit of a low wall; was occupied with romantic excursions and looking down perceived a cavalier by water or by land, and every evening sitting with, a lady under a grove of was beguiled with literary conversation or sycamores. The cavalier seemed to music from the loveliest voice and the most have seen hardly seventeen winters; he eloquent strings that ever l had the fortuge was slender and tall, with a ruddy com to listen to. And when we parted, we parted plexion, black hair, and a quick merry with warm hearts, and pleasant anticipaeye. The lady appeared full five years tions, and affectionate tears. In two older; her eyes were as quick, and her brief years those hearts were separated, ringlets as black, and her complexion as and those anticipations were blighted for warm, but more delicate: they were

ever; and those tears were exchanged evidently brother and sister; but that for tears of bitterness and mourning. was a matter of iodifference to me.

The troubles of Spain commenced ; I heard a Spanish song upon the fall and my poor Alonzo joined the Patriots, of the Abencerrage, and another upon and fell in his first campaign. Leonora the exploits of the Cid : then the lady had been not a heroine, for I hate began an Italian ditty, but she had not heroines,—but a noble woman. She accomplished the first stanza, when a

herself had decorated the young victim decayed stone gave way, and carried me whom she sacrificed to her country's through all the intricacies of bush and good; she had embroidered the lace on bramble into the cold bed of the river.

bis uniform with her own hand; she had I could not swing a stroke.

given him the scarf which was found

[ocr errors]

ELEONORA; A SKETCH. pompa turned round his arm of the field, and intimacy; inquiries about every rudy she had smiled mournfully as she bade or amusement we had meditated or him wear.it till some one more beautiful enjoyed togetheris -- whether I had bet. or more beloved had chosen him for her tered my fute-playing-whether I had knight, And when he had girded on his studied landscape, whether I had finishfather's sword, and lingered with his hand ed Calderon. She wearied herself with upon his courser's mane, she had said talking; and then leaning her head on 'farewell,' in a farm voice, and wept while the cushions, desired me to take up a she said it.

book from the table and read to her, that It was on a journey to Scotland that I she inight hear whether my pronunciapassed through the small village in which tion was improved, the Spanish lady had shrouded her fading

"I took up the first that presented beauty and her breaking heart. I sent itself; it was only a manuscript book, up my name to 'ber, and was admitted containing many scraps and fragments into her little drawing-room immediately. from different authors in her brother's Oh! how altered she seemed that day, hand writing. I said it down again, and All the colour had disappeared from her took up the next ; it was a Dante, which cheek, and all, the freshness from her I had given her I opened it at random lip; she had still the white hand and arm, and began to read the story of Francesca, which I had seen running so lightly over When I came to the celebrated liness the strings of her theorbo, but they were wasted terribly away; and though her.

maggior dolore

Che ricordaris del tempo felice long dark locks were braided as carefully Nella miseria, as they had been in' bappier days, they did ziot communicate the idea of bright

“I do not believe a word of it," she said, ness and brilliancy which they had been

“I would not lose my rccollection for wont to scatter over her countenance,

all Mexico." She endeavoured to rise from the sofa as

I took leave of her soon : for I saw ļ entered; but the effort was' too great her. When I had parted from her before,

that my presence agitated and wearied for her, and she sat down without speak. she had given me a miniature of herself ing. She was evidently dying; contrast between the parting and the which she had painted in all the glow of meeting, and the vague vision of the past, which then so well became her. Now

health and spirits, and ardent affections, and the melaucholy reality of the present, struck me so forcibly and so sadly, that I she gave me another, which had been her stayed with my hand on the door and burst task or pleasure in sickness and solitude. into tears.

I do not know why I turn from the first “We are not to weep thus,” she said with its fine hues and sparkling lustre, " he fell Kike a true Spaniard, and I only of the other, with a deeper feeling of

to gaze upon the paleness and languor regret that I was not born a man, that I might have put my rifle to my shoulder, melancholy delight and died with my hand in huis. Pray sit the lapse of two months, Leonora was

When I returned from Scotland after down; it is a long time since I have seen any friend who can talk to me of the old dead. I found the sextor of the village, days."

and desired him to point out to me the

There was a I suggested that she ought to endeavour spot where she rested to think less of the losses she had en

small marble slab over her remains, with dured, and to dwell more cheerfully on

the brief inscription “ Leonora-- Addio!" the tranquillity which might yet be in stood for a few minutes there, and store for her. “I should despise you began to moralize and murmur. now," she answered, “if I could think seems only yesterday,” I said, “ that she this advice came from your heart.

was moving and breathing before mely What! you would have me forget him, with all the buoyancy and beauty of her whose life was my dearest pleasure, and blameless form, and her stainless spirit; whose death is my greatest pride. Look and now she lies in her purity and her at this ring, and she took off a small

loveliness." gold one, and made me remark its

“ She lies in a pretty grave," said the motto, fel a la muerte ;' « he would old sexton, looking with apparent satisnot have bade me wear this in remem,

faction on his handiwork. brance of him, if he had not known that

She does, indeed, good Nicholas; and he was doomed to perish, if he had not

her loveliness is but little to the known too that should be happy purpose !"

1. M. afterwards in thinking and dreaming of him.” Then she began to recal minutely every scene and circumstance of our

« السابقةمتابعة »