Chapter XX

THE BLIND GIRL.

_(For the Mirror.)_

As fair a thing as e'er was form'd of clay.

BYRON.

Sweet wanderer--we have known her long!
And often on our ear,
Has gush'd the cadence of her song,
As if some stream were near.
Her path was through our tranquil dell,
When breezes kiss'd the curfew bell.

We gaz'd upon the golden hair,
That o'er her white brow shone,
And beauty's tinge had cluster'd there,
A grace unlike its own.
We call'd it beautiful--that brow!
But rayless were the eyes below.

Those pale dim eyes, we would have given
Our flowers to see them glow--
They slept, as sleeps the summer heaven,
When the sun waxeth low:
And soft her glossy lashes were,
As stars within the crystal air.

Oh, call her not a phantom form,
Of deep sepulchral spells;
Her maiden lips with life are warm,
And thought within her dwells--
Thought, holy as the light that lies
In the rapt martyr's lifted eyes.

Her home--'tis far away from her,
Its quiet porch is lone,
And the sunny wind no more shall stir
Its streamlet's silver tone.
The zephyrs there, their incense wreathe,
But, o'er her hair they shall not breathe.

Her sire reposeth in the wave,
Beneath an Indian sky;
The violets fringe her mother's grave,
And there, her sisters lie!
And we will waft to heaven our prayers,
When her pure dust is mix'd with theirs.

_Deal_. REGINALD AUGUSTINE.

* * * * *

WINE.

_(For the Mirror.)_

Sir,--I am induced to send you the following, in consequence of reading an article upon _wine_ in No. 352, page 45 of your interesting work.

The article appears to have been written with a view of inducing a more frequent use of that wholesome and invigorating beverage by adducing a host of respectable names of antiquity. But I am somewhat inclined to believe, that notwithstanding the classic lore and learned style in which the article appears, that many there are, whose adverse temper, and whom the present "march of intellect" has so far rendered callous to _authoritative_ conviction, that they still remain sceptics of the extraordinary good qualities and virtues, which the ancients believed this beverage to contain; only because they have thought fit to adhere to the common adage, that no opinion ought to be received upon men's authority, without a sufficient reason assigned for its correctness. It is with this view of the subject then, that I venture to make the few following observations. In the first place, we will briefly consider the nature and chemical properties of wines, and then their tendency and action upon the constitution.

The characteristic ingredient of all wines is alcohol, the proportion and quality of which, and the state and combination in which it exists, constitute the essential properties of the numerous kinds of wines. The colour of the red wines is produced from the husk of the grape, they being used during fermentation; on the contrary, the colourless wines are those where the husk of the grape is not used during the process of fermentation. The colouring matter produced from the husks is highly astringent, consequently the red and white wines are very different in their qualities, and very different in their effect on the stomach.

All wines contain more or less acid; for British wines are considered less salubrious than those of foreign, from their having an excess of malic acid, which our fruits contain. The foreign wines are reckoned superior in quality, in consequence of their containing an excess of tartaric acid, their fruit containing a greater portion of this acid than does ours. Wines during fermentation, if improperly managed, will produce _acetic acid_, which will greatly deteriorate their quality.

Various have been the opinions of eminent men on the effects of wine upon the constitution. It would be needless to enter into a detailed account of all those who have written for or against its utility; the following, from a modern eminent writer _against_ the use of wines will suffice, and serve to show that the opponents to wine-drinking have at least some reason on their side. Mr. Beddoes, states, in his "Hygeia," vol. ii, p. 35, that an ingenious surgeon tried the following experiment:--He gave two of his children for a week alternately after dinner, to the one a full glass of sherry, and to the other a large China orange; the effects that followed were sufficient to prove the _injurious tendency_ of vinous liquors. In the one the pulse was quickened, the heat increased; whilst the other had every appearance that indicated high health; the same effect followed when the experiment was reversed. This certainly is a formidable objection, but let us before drawing a final conclusion, examine the opposite arguments.

Wines, and, indeed, all fermented liquors have an antiseptic quality. They act in direct opposition to putrefaction, and in proportion to the quantity of alcohol which they contain, so will be their value and beneficial tendency. Now the circulating fluids of our system have a continual tendency to putrefaction; and the food we take, both animal and vegetable, tends to produce this effect; if, therefore, something of an antiseptic nature, or of a nature in direct opposition to this principle be not received, the fluids would ultimately become a mass of corruption, with the extinction of life. If we meet with an individual whose habits are abstemious, as regards the drinking of wines or fermented liquors, we generally discover him to have a great predilection for that valuable commodity _salt_, which article being in its nature antiseptic, answers the same purpose as wine. Therefore, the labouring man, whose narrow circumstances prohibit him from the advantage of a daily use of wine, by taking with his food a sufficient quantity of salt, and his apportioned quantity of malt liquor, retains his vigour and strength of body equally with those whose more ample means render them capable of acquiring the necessary quantity of wine daily. Doctor Barry mentions an experiment made on a soldier, who was hired to live entirely for some days on wild fowl,[3] with water only to drink; he received in the beginning his reward and diet with great cheerfulness, but this was soon succeeded by nausea, thirst, and disposition to putrid dysentery, which was with some difficulty prevented from making further progress, by the physician who made the experiment. Again, he remarks, "I knew a person who, by the advice of his physician abstained for some years entirely from _salt_, drank chiefly _water_, and used freely an animal diet, and by that means acquired a violent scurvy; he was, after some time, relieved by a strict regimen of diet and medicine, and as he afterwards used salt and vegetables with animal food, and drank wine more freely, never had a return of the disorder." It is therefore evident, that a _moderate_ use of wine tends to promote health, and keeps off the numerous train of disorders, to which the constitution of man is subject, thereby lessening the evils incidental to human nature. We can then exclaim with Virgil of wine,

"Deus ille malis hominum mitescere discat."

S.S.T.

[3] It must be recollected that wild fowl in consequence of
their living on animal diet, give more readily a putrid
disposition to the fluids.

* * * * *

THE SKETCH-BOOK.

* * * * *

MY FIRST LOVE.

_(For the Mirror.)_

She was amiable, accomplished, fascinating, beautiful; yet her's were beauties which description cannot heighten; fascinations which language were vain to embellish. There was soul in her deep hazel eye as its flashes broke through their long, dark, encircling fringe; her jetty locks waved harmoniously, contrasting with the virgin snow of the forehead they wreathed in glossy luxuriance, the unclouded smile played on her lip like the zephyr over a bed of gossamer, or a sunbeam on the cheek of Aurora.

Scarce eleven summers had passed over my head when I first saw Annette. She was by about three years my elder. Young, though I was, I was not insensible; she rivetted my gaze, I felt an emotion I could not comprehend--cannot describe--as it were love in the germ just beginning to expand, waiting but for the genial warmth of a few summer suns to nourish and bring it to maturity. We parted, still her image pursued me, the recollection was sweet, and I loved to cherish it.

Four years had elapsed; we again met. My soul thrilled with delight in beholding, in contemplating, her perfections! How was that delight increased when I saw her countenance shed its loveliest smiles, her eye pour its heavenliest beams--on _me_--happy presumption--I loved. _We_ loved; but words spoke not our love. No, each read it in the burning glances that were reciprocated--in the spirit-breathing sighs that would ever and anon steal forth--spite of suppression. Let me shorten the tale of rapture. She was mine; Annette was mine--mine undividedly. SHE IS MINE NO LONGER. Ask not the cause. I was infuriated, befooled, infatuated; my own "hands threw the pearl away;" my own lips gave, sealed the sentence, that robbed me for ever, ay, for ever, of a heart--a treasure, it had been heaven to possess. SHE IS MINE NO LONGER--yet a pleasure it is, a melancholy pleasure, how I love it, to recall those moments of refined, of voluptuous enjoyment, my sole remaining happiness, that they _were_, my bitterest pang, that they _are not_--moments, when amid the busy circle--scarce could the eagle glance of surrounding observation control the bursting emotions of the soul, or, oh, more blest--moments of solitude--where those motions broke forth, unobserved, unrestrained. SHE IS MINE NO LONGER. Yet Annette sleeps not in the sombre grave. A blast, not of death, but more dire, hath scattered those hopes, too unsubstantially fond to be realized: a chill not of the grave, but more piercing, hath nipped those blossoms of happiness, too ethereally delicate for earth. Still Annette lives, beautiful as ever, enchanting as ever, lives, but for another. Stay, let me recall that word, I wrong her; it must not, cannot be; her _heart_ is not, never shall be his; with mine it hath lost its _one_ resting place, and like the dove, seeks not another. Cruel fate, but I have ceased to repine--ceased to regret.

IOTA.

* * * * *

Select Biography.

* * * * *

MEMOIR OF BOLIVAR.

_(Concluded from page 213.)_

Early in 1818, the supreme chief, after concentrating his forces, marched rapidly to Calabozo, and arrived before Morillo was aware that he had quitted Angostura. The Spanish general effected his retreat to Aragua. The supreme chief came up with him at La Usirrael, but could make but a slight impression on the enemy, on account of the strength of his position. Another rencontre occurred at Sombrero. Morillo retired to Valencia; and Bolivar took possession of the valleys of Aragua. Thence he detached a strong division to take San Fernando de Apure, in order to complete the conquest of the Llanos. Upon this the Spaniards advanced. The two armies met at Semen. Morillo was wounded, and the royalist army put to flight. The pursuit being indiscreetly conducted by the patriots, and a fresh royalist division arriving to support Morillo, the fortune of the day was changed. Each party was alternately defeated, and both rallied their dispersed corps to reengage at Ortiz.

The division which succeeded in capturing San Fernando had an indecisive affair at Cojedes. Others of the same character took place at El Rincon del Toro, and other places. At the close of this campaign, the Spaniards held Aragua, and the patriots San Fernando. Thus the former possessed the most fertile provinces of Venezuela, and all New Granada; while the latter were reduced to the Llanos and Guayana. Arms were sent to General Santander, who was endeavouring to raise a division in Casanare.

In 1819, the various corps united in San Fernando, where the supreme chief devoted his labours to the regulation of civil affairs. He invited the provinces to send deputies to Angostura, to form a general congress, and then delegated his powers to a council of government to act in his absence.

With four or five thousand men, the supreme chief opened the campaign against Morillo, who had six or seven thousand. Twelve hundred British troops arrived at Margarita from England. They had been engaged in London by Colonel English, and were equipped and sent out by Messrs. Herring and Richardson; besides these, eight hundred others also arrived at Angostura. The latter were engaged by Captain Elsom, and sent out by Messrs. Hurry, Powles, and Hurry; the greater part were disbanded soldiers from the British army, reduced on the return of the troops from France.[4] These volunteers were equipped in the most efficient manner. With these expeditions large supplies of spare arms were sent to assist the cause of independence. Bolivar, in his speech to congress, thus expresses himself on this subject:--

[4] Colonel Macirone also sent out above two thousand men, who
were employed in the capture of Porto Bello and Rio de la Hacha.
This caused a very favourable diversion for Bolivar in Venezuela,
as it distracted the attention of the royalists, and but for the
pusillanimous conduct of Macgregor, who commanded the expedition,
might have proved of lasting advantage.

"For these important advantages we are indebted to the unbounded liberality of some generous foreigners, who, hearing the groans of suffering humanity, and seeing the cause of freedom, reason, and justice ready to sink, would not remain quiet, but flew to our succour with their munificent aid and protection, and furnished the republic with every thing needful to cause their philanthropical principles to flourish. Those friends of mankind are the guardian geniuses of America, and to them we owe a debt of eternal gratitude, as well as a religious fulfilment of the several obligations contracted with them."

Bolivar, leaving the army in command of General Paez, repaired to Angostura. As Morillo advanced, Paez, agreeable to orders, retired towards the Orinoco, detaching a few guerillas to harass the Spaniards in the rear.

General Urdaneta was appointed to command the recently arrived British legion in Margarita, which was to act on the side of Caracas, in order to draw off the attention of Morillo from the Llanos.

On the 15th of February, 1819, congress was installed at Angostura. The supreme chief pronounced an eloquent discourse, and resigned his authority. Congress immediately, and unanimously, elected him president of the republic.

Early in March, the president rejoined the army, which was very much reduced by sickness. On the 27th, he defeated the vanguard of the Spaniards. Adopting a desultory system of warfare, he obliged them to recross the Apure, having lost half their original numbers.

While Morillo remained in winter quarters, the president traversed the vast plains of the Apure and Casanare, which are rendered almost impassable by inundations from the month of May to the end of August. In Casanare, the president formed a junction with the division of Santander, two thousand strong. Santander had, from the commencement of the revolution, dedicated himself with enthusiastic constancy to the cause of his country. He now expelled the Spaniards from their formidable position of Paya, and opened the way for the president to cross the terrific Andes, in effecting which, nearly a fourth of his army perished from the effects of cold and excessive fatigue.

On the 11th of July, the president attacked the royal army at Gamarra. After a long engagement, the Spanish general Barrero retired, and did not again offer battle, except in positions almost inaccessible. Bonza was invested by the patriots for some days in sight of both armies. The president, by a flank movement, brought the Spaniards to action on the 25th of July, at Bargas. The Spaniards, though superior in numbers, and advantageously posted, gave way, and the president obtained a complete victory. His inferior forces, however, and the nature of the country, did not allow him to make the most of this glorious success; but he obtained a thousand recruits, and marched to interpose between the defeated Barrero and the viceroy Samano, who, with all the disposable force south of Bogotá, was about to support Barrero. The result of the president's daring and masterly movement was the battle of Boyaca, fought on the 7th of August, and which has been called the _birth of Colombia_. In this battle, the English troops, under the command of Major Mackintosh, greatly distinguished themselves. The gallant major was promoted by the liberator on the field. In three days afterwards the president entered Bogotá in triumph, and, within a short period, eleven provinces of New Granada announced their adhesion to the cause of independence.

Bolivar repaired to Angostura, where he once more resigned his authority to the representatives of the people, and laid on their floor the trophies of the last campaign. On the 25th of December, 1819, congress, at the suggestion of the president, decreed that thenceforth Venezuela and New Granada should form one republic, under the denomination of COLOMBIA. At the same time it conferred upon Bolivar the title of LIBERATOR OF COLOMBIA, and re-elected him president of the republic.

In March, 1820, he arrived at Bogotá, and occupied himself until August in the organization of the army cantoned at various points between Cucuta and San Fernando de Apure.

The Spanish revolution, which originated in the Isla de Leon, inspired the South Americans with new hopes. These were raised still higher by the solicitude of Morillo to negotiate an armistice; but Bolivar, refusing to treat upon any other basis than that of independence, marched to the department of the Magdalena, reviewed the besieging force before Carthagena, and reinforced the division of the south, destined to act against Popayan and Quito. The president drove the Spaniards from the provinces of Merida and Truxillo, and established his winter headquarters at the latter town. On the 26th of November, the president concluded an armistice of six months with Morillo, who engaged that, on the renewal of hostilities, the war should be carried on, conformably to the practice of civilized nations.

In the beginning of the year 1821, the liberator went to Bogotá, to attend to the affairs of the south; when hearing of the arrival at Caracas of Spanish commissioners to treat for peace, he returned to Truxillo; but no terms were then agreed upon. In the meanwhile, the province of Maracaybo shook off the Spanish yoke. Morillo having departed for Europe, General La Torre, a brave and very superior man, succeeded to the command of the royal army, and made strong remonstrances against the movement in the province of Maracaybo, which he deemed an infraction of the armistice, and hostilities in consequence recommenced. The liberator concentrated his forces in Varinas; he detached a division to the coast under General Urdaneta, and another to the east, under General Bermudez, to divide the attention of the enemy, and marched himself against Caracas. On the 24th of June, the liberator attacked and defeated the Spaniards, who had taken up a strong position at Carabobo. The numbers on both sides were nearly equal. This battle decided the fate of Colombia. The victorious liberator entered Caracas on the 29th. On the 2nd of July, La Guayra also surrendered to him.

Leaving a besieging division before Puerto Cabello, the liberator went to Cucuta, where he resigned once more the office of president of the republic, which, in admiration of his disinterestedness, instantly re-elected him.

When the province of Guayaquil declared itself independent, it solicited the assistance of Bolivar against the Spaniards in Quito. A small division was accordingly sent there.

The liberator, having signed the constitution sanctioned by congress, obtained leave to direct the war in the south. In January, 1822, he put himself at the head of the army in Popayan, and sent a reinforcement to General Sucre in Guayaquil.

In the month of March, the liberator moved against the province of Pasto, the inhabitants of which country are surpassed in bravery by no people in the world, but who adhered with blind attachment to the ancient regime. The liberator, having overcome the obstacles presented by nature in the valleys of Patia, and the formidable river Guanabamba, arrived in front of Bombona. The _Pastusos_ (inhabitants of the province of Pasto) had here taken up a strong position, supported by the Spanish troops. They were vigorously attacked; but every charge made in front was repulsed. It was not until the rifle battalion, commanded by the able Colonel Sands, outflanked the _Pastusos_, that victory declared for Bolivar; but his army had suffered so severely, that, instead of immediately following up the fugitives through a hostile country, it fell back a short distance.

Whilst these operations were going on, Sucre liberated the provinces of Loja and Cuenca, and, on the 24th of May, gained the victory of Pinchincha, which gave independence to Quito. In the same year Carthagena and Cumaná, surrendered to the liberating forces in Venezuela.

The liberator entered Quito on the 16th of June. His attention was soon attracted to the discontents which had arisen at Guayaquil, where the Colombians had become unpopular. His excellency proceeded to that town, and, under his auspices, the provisional government annexed the province to Colombia.

One of the results of the interview which took place between the protector of Peru and the liberator of Colombia was the sending of an auxiliary force of two thousand Colombians to Lima; but the junta, which proceeded to the protectorate, ordered the Colombian troops to return to Guayaquil. The president Riva Aguero, who succeeded to the junta, applied for an auxiliary Colombian division of six thousand men, and invited Bolivar to take the command of all the military forces in Peru. The Colombian troops were sent to Lima. General Bolivar obtained leave from the congress at Bogotá to go to Peru--the grand scene of his subsequent triumphs.

The person of Bolivar is thin, and somewhat below the middle size. He dresses in good taste, and has an easy military walk. He is a very bold rider, and capable of undergoing great fatigue. His manners are good, and his address unaffected, but not very prepossessing. It is said that, in his youth, he was rather handsome. His complexion is sallow; his hair, originally very black, is now mixed with gray. His eyes are dark and penetrating, but generally downcast, or turned askance, when he speaks; his nose is well formed, his forehead high and broad, the lower part of the face is sharp; the expression of the countenance is careworn, lowering, and sometimes rather fierce. His temper, spoiled by adulation, is fiery and capricious. His opinions of men and things are variable. He is rather prone to personal abuse, but makes ample amends to those who will put up with it. Towards such his resentments are not lasting. He is a passionate admirer of the fair sex, but jealous to excess. He is fond of waltzing, and is a very quick, but not a very graceful dancer. His mind is of the most active description. When not more stirringly employed, he is always reading, dictating letters, &c., or conversing. His voice is loud and harsh, but he speaks eloquently on most subjects. His reading has been principally confined to French authors; hence the Gallic idioms so common in his productions. He is an _impressive_ writer, but his style is vitiated by an affectation of grandeur. Speaking so well as he does, it is not wonderful that he should be more fond of hearing himself talk than of listening to others, and apt to engross conversation in the society he receives. He entertains numerously, and no one has more skilful cooks, or gives better dinners; but he is himself so very abstemious, in both eating and drinking, that he seldom takes his place at his own table until the repast is nearly over, having probably dined in private upon a plain dish or two. He is fond of giving toasts, which he always prefaces in the most eloquent and appropriate manner; and his enthusiasm is so great, that he frequently mounts his chair, or the table, to propose them. Although the cigar is almost universally used in South America, Bolivar never smokes, nor does he permit smoking in his presence. He is never without proper officers in waiting, and keeps up a considerable degree of etiquette. Disinterested in the extreme with regard to pecuniary affairs, he is insatiably covetous of fame. Bolivar invariably speaks of England, of her institutions, and of her great men, in terms of admiration. He often dwells with great warmth upon the constancy, fidelity, and sterling merit of the English officers who have served in the cause of independence, under every varying event of the war. A further proof of his predilection towards England is that he has always had upon his personal staff a number of British subjects.

--_Memoirs of General Miller_.

* * * * *

Fine Arts.

* * * * *

EXHIBITIONS AT THE BAZAAR,

_Oxford Street_.

THE BRITISH DIORAMA.

On Saturday, the 11th, there was a private view of four new pictures, by Stanfield and Roberts, at this very interesting lounge. They consist of

1. _The City of York, with the Minster on fire_--a picturesque view of the cathedral, with a mimic display of the conflagration, the accuracy of which will make the property-man of the Opera tremble.

2. _The Temple of Apollinopolis, in Egypt_, a magnificent picture of Egyptian architecture--"noble in decay." The splendid leaved capitals of the pillars reminded us of the following, which we had that morning read in the _Journal of a Naturalist_:--"No portion of creation," says the author, "has been resorted to by mankind with more success for the ornament and decoration of their labours, than the vegetable world. The rites, emblems, and mysteries of religion; national achievements, eccentric marks, and the capricious visions of fancy, have all been wrought by the hand of the sculptor, on the temple, the altar, or the tomb; but plants, their foliage, flowers, or fruits, as the most graceful, varied, and pleasing objects that meet our view, have been more universally the object of design, and have supplied the most beautiful, and perhaps the earliest, embellishments of art. The pomegranate, the almond, and flowers, were selected even in the wilderness, and by divine appointment, to give form to the sacred utensils; the rewards of merit, the wreath of the victor, were arboraceous; in later periods, the acanthus, the ivy, the lotus, the vine, the palm, and the oak, flourished under the chisel, or beneath the loom of the artist; and in modern days, the vegetable world affords the almost exclusive decorations of ingenuity and art."

3. _Entrance to the Village of Virex, in Italy_--a pleasing picture of what may be termed _an architectural village_; for some of the dwellings almost approach to palaces, and others have a conventual character, which harmonizes with the sublime beauties of nature which rise around them.

4. _Interior of St. Saveur, in Normandy._ As an architectural picture we are not disposed to rate this so highly as the two preceding.

The alternations of light and shade are admirably managed in all of them, among which a flood of light streaming through one of the cathedral windows will be much admired. The size of each picture is 70 feet by 50--and the four may be seen for _one shilling!_

Below stairs, the fine group from Reubens's Descent from the Cross, and Albert Durer's Carvings of the Life of the Virgin Mary, still continue open.

Another exhibition, _Trepado, or Cut-Paper Work_, to use a vulgar phrase, "cut out" all the work of the kind we have ever seen. We have a sister very ingenious in these matters; but her productions, compared with the cuttings of the Oxford-street Bazaar, are as John Nash with Michael Angelo. These cuttings are in imitation of Line Engraving, comprising sixteen pictures, cut with scissars, among which are the Lord's Supper--Conversion of St. Paul--The Battle of Alexander--A Portrait of his Majesty George IV., &c. They are almost the counterfeit presentment of pencil-drawings, such as Varley and Brookman and Langdon could not excel. Yet these are cut with scissars! A greater exercise of patience, to say the least of it, we scarcely know. Every one who wishes to cut a figure in the world ought to learn this art; and certain fair cutters may by this means spread even stronger meshes than these paper nets. We mean to see them again, although we have too many _cuttings_ to make for the gratification of our readers to allow us to enter into the _Trepado_ study _con amore_--and so with this recommendation, we _cut_ the subject. We, however, expect to meet scores of our Easter friends in the Bazaar; and there is no similar establishment in London where so much may be seen for so little money.

The Bazaar has lately been extended for a suite of rooms for the exhibition of Household Furniture, for sale. There are already several handsome specimens--many of them fit for the splendid palaces building in the Regent's Park. If the reader be one of those who "meditate on muffineers and plan pokers," he will enjoy this part of the Bazaar. In all the Parisian bazaars, there is an abundance of _meubles_ and you get accommodated with a newspaper and a chair, as the Street-publishers say, "for the small charge of one penny:" might it not be so here, or is an Englishman obliged to read and drink (not think) at the same time?

The counters of the Bazaar are abundantly stocked with _bijouterie_ and nic-nacs, the _Nouveautes de Paris_ and Spitalfields--Canton in China, and Leatherlane in Holborn--toy-carts for children, and fleecy hosiery for old folks--puffs and pastry, and the last new song--inkstands, taper-lights, pen-wipers, perfumed sealing-wax, French hair-paper, curling-wheels--and all the fair ammunition of love and madness. If you leave your purse at home, or, what is worse, if you have left your money, you know not where, remember Bishop Berkley, and console yourself with the reflection that all these things were made for your enjoyment, and that all around are striving to please you. This will be no trifling source of pleasure--it will fill your head and fill your heart with joy--leave the _pockets_ to grosser minds.

* * * * *

SOCIETY OF BRITISH ARTISTS, SUFFOLK-STREET, PALL-MALL, EAST.

_By a Correspondent_.

The sixth exhibition of this society is now open to the public, and the display of talent fully equals, or, perhaps, excels, that of former seasons. The society, since its commencement, has realized twelve thousand pounds from the sale of the works of British artists, who, thus stimulated by the disposal of their performances, have exerted their utmost ability in contributing specimens of their art to the present exhibition. We can, however, only notice a few of those artists who have been particularly successful; our limits not allowing us to extend justice to _all_.

The most splendid painting in the gallery is No. 7, _The Departure of the Israelites out of Egypt_, by Mr. Roberts. In the performance of this work, the painter has evidently endeavoured to imitate Martin's compositions. The picture, viewed at a little distance, is certainly grand and imposing; on a near inspection, however, we look in vain for the exquisite finish, and the characteristic expression so universally admired in Mr. Martin's works. We advise Mr. Roberts, if he pursues this class of painting, to unite finish with his bold effects--for attention in this respect will prove the _denouement_ of his pictures. No. 188, _Erle Stoke Park, the seat of G. Watson Taylor, Esq. M.P._ by Mr. Stanfield, is a very delightful picture, being remarkably chaste and clear in the colouring. No. 404, _Mattock High Tor_, by Mr. Hotland, and No. 440, _A Party crossing the Alps_, by Mr. Egerton, are works of high merit; as are the performances of Messrs. Wilson, Blake, Glover,[5] Knight, Nasmyth, Farrier, Gill, Novice, Stevens, Turner, Holmes, and Pidding.

[5] _Apropos_, three are twenty-three pictures by this gentleman
in the gallery.

The engravings and sculpture are likewise very creditable to the institution this season. Mr. Quilly has executed an excellent print from Stanfield's fine picture, _The Wreckers_, which was exhibited last year at the British Institution.

Among the busts in the sculpture-room we notice those of Lord Eldon, Sir F. Burdett, Sir H. Davy, the late Lord Bishop of Salisbury, &c.

G.W.N.

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

* * * * *

(_Concluded from, page 254_.)

"_N'importe!_" exclaimed Stubbs, gaily; "there are more admirers, in this world, of the ridiculous than of the true, that let me tell you. But I must to my studies, for the night approaches. Next Monday--and this is Thursday--and I am by no means _au fait_ yet in my part. So good morning--let me see you soon again--and meanwhile adieu! adieu! remember me!"

Mr. M'Crab departed; and Mr. Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs prepared to go through the soliloquy of "To be--or not to be," before a mirror which reflected the whole of his person.

Monday came, and oh! with what a flutter of delight Mr. Stubbs cast his eyes upon that part of the paper, where the play for the evening was announced, and where he read, "_This evening will be acted the tragedy of Hamlet: the part of Hamlet by a gentleman, his first appearance on any stage._"

* * * * *

His carriage was at the door--and he told the coachman to drive down ---- street, that he might see in passing along, whether the crowd at the pit and gallery doors, would obstruct his progress. It was not quite so large as to stretch across the carriage road; but he was sure there were some hundreds, though so early, and he thought they must have heard who the "gentleman" was, that was then rolling by. He would not be positive, too; but he could almost swear he heard an huzza, as he passed along. There were above a dozen persons collected round the stage door; and he plainly perceived that _they_ drew back with respectful admiration, as the new Hamlet stepped out of his carriage.

He hastened to his dressing-room, where he found his friend, the manager, Mr. Peaess, who shook him by the hand, as he informed him that they had an excellent box-book. Stubbs smiled graciously; and the manager left him with his dresser, to attire himself in his "customary suit of solemn black." Mr. Stubbs had kept his intention of stuffing the character a profound secret, fearful lest any technical objections should be made by Mr. Peaess, and desirous also of making the first impression in the green-room. When he entered it, therefore, in the likeness of a chubby undertaker, ready for a funeral, rather than in that of the "unmatched form and feature of blown youth"--in short, the very type and image of poor Tokely in _Peter Pastoral_,--his eyes and ears were on the alert to catch the look of surprise, and buzz of admiration, which he very naturally anticipated. He was a little daunted by a suppressed titter which ran round the room; but he was utterly confounded when his best and dearest friend, Mr. Peaess himself, coming up to him exclaimed,--"Why, zounds! Mr. Stubbs, what have you been doing? By ----, the audience will never stand this."

"Stand what?" replied Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs.

"What!" echoed the manager; "why this pot-belly, and those cherub cheeks."

"Pooh! pooh!" replied Stubbs, "it's Shakspeare's, and I can prove it."

"You may pooh! pooh! as much as you like, Mr. Stubbs," rejoined the manager; "but, by ----, you've made a mere apple-dumpling of yourself."

"Do you think so," exclaimed Stubbs, glancing in one of the mirrors--"Well; I do assure you it is Shakspeare, and I'll prove it. But what shall I do?" and he looked imploringly round upon the broad, grinning countenances of the other performers.

"Do?" ejaculated Mr. Peaess; "you can do nothing now--the curtain has been up these ten minutes; Horatio and Marcellus are coming off, and you must go on."

At this moment the ghost of Hamlet's father entered the room, but before he had time to look upon his son, the call-boy's summons was heard for the King, Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, &c., to be ready, and forth sallied poor Mr. Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs, to prove, if he could, to the audience, that his rotundity was perfectly Shakspearian.

The awful flourish of drum and trumpet was sounded;--their majesties of Denmark, attended by their train of courtiers, walked on. There is a pause! All eyes are bent in eager gaze to catch the first glimpse of the new Hamlet--all hands are ready to applaud. He appears--boxes, pit, and gallery, join in the generous welcome of the unknown candidate. He revives--hastens to the foot-lights--bows--another round of applause--bows again--and again--and then falls back, to let the business of the scene proceed. He looks round, meanwhile, with the swelling consciousness that he is that moment "the observed of all observers," and tries to rally his agitated spirits; but just as he is beginning to do so, his wandering eye rests upon the ill-omened face of M'Crab, seated in the front-row of the stage-box, who is gazing at him with a grotesque smile, which awakens an overwhelming recollection of his own prediction, that he "would be horribly laughed at, if he did make Hamlet a fat little fellow," as well as a bewildering reminiscence of the manager's, that, "by ----, the audience would not stand it."

It was soon evident they would not, or rather that they could not stand it. But it was not alone his new reading in what regarded the person of Hamlet, that excited astonishment. Mr. Stubbs had so many other new readings, that before he got to the end of his first speech, beginning with, "Seems, madam! nay, it is," they were satisfied of what was to follow. When, however, Mr. Stubbs stood alone upon the stage, in the full perfection of his figure, and concentrated upon himself the undivided attention of the house--when he gathered up his face into an indescribable aspect of woe--but, above all, when, placing his two hands upon his little round belly, he exclaimed, while looking sorrowfully at it,

"Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt,
(Pat, went the right hand,)
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,"
(Pat, went the left hand,)

the effect was irresistible. One roar of laughter shook the theatre, from the back row of the shilling gallery to the first row of the pit, mingled with cries of _bravo! bravo! go on, my little fellow--you shall have fair play--silence--bravo! silence!_--Stubbs, meanwhile, looked as if he were really wondering what they were all laughing at; and when at length silence was partially restored, he continued his soliloquy. His delivery of the lines,

"Fye on't oh fye! 'tis an unweeded garden
That grown to seed: things rank and gross in nature," &c.

was one of his new readings--for holding up his finger, and looking towards the audience with a severe expression of countenance, it appeared as though he were chiding their ill manners in laughing at him, when he said, "Fye on't--oh, fye!"

He was allowed to proceed, however, with such interruptions only as his own original conceptions of the part provoked from time to time; or when any thing he had to say was obviously susceptible of an application to himself. Thus, for example, in the scene with Horatio and Marcellus, after his interview with the ghost:--

_"Ham_. And now, good friends,
As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
Give me one poor request.

_Hor_. What is it, my lord? We will.

_Ham. Never make known what you have seen to-night."_

"Let him, if he likes," exclaimed a voice from the pit--"he'll never see such a sight again."--Then, in his instructions to the players, his delivery of them was accompanied by something like the following running commentary:

"Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, (_that is impossible!_) trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, (_laughter_,) I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. * * * Oh, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious, periwig-pated fellow (_like yourself_) tear a passion to tatters, &c.--I would have such a fellow whipped (_give it him, he deserves it_) for o'erdoing Termagant. * * * Oh, there be players that I have seen play, (_no, we see him,_) and heard others praise, and that highly, (_oh! oh! oh!_) not to speak it profanely, that, having neither the accent of Christians, (_ha! ha! ha!_) nor the gait of Christian, Pagan, nor man, have so strutted (_bravo! little 'un!_) and bellowed, (_hit him again!_) that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, (_who made you?_) and not made them well, (_no, you are a bad fit_,) they imitated humanity so abominably." (_Roars of laughter_.)

It was thus Mr. Henry Augustus Constantine Stubbs enacted Hamlet; and it was not till the end of the fourth act that he suffered a single observation to escape him, which indicated he thought any thing was amiss. Then, indeed, while sitting in the green-room, and as if the idea had just struck him, he said to Mr. Peaess, "Do you know, I begin to think I have some enemies in the house, for when, in the scene with Ophelia, I said, 'What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven?' somebody called out, loud enough for me to hear him, 'Ay! what, indeed?' It's very odd. Did you notice it, ma'am?" he continued addressing the lady who performed Ophelia. "I can't say I did," replied the lady, biting her lips most unmercifully, to preserve her gravity of countenance.

This was the only remark made by the inimitable Mr. Stubbs during the whole evening, and he went through the fifth act with unabated self-confidence. His dying scene was honoured with thunders of applause, and loud cries of _encore_. Stubbs raised his head, and looking at Horatio, who was bending over him, inquired, "Do you think they mean it?"

"Lie still, for God's sake!" exclaimed Horatio, and the curtain slowly descended amid deafening roars of laughter, and shouts of hurrah! hurrah!

The next morning, at breakfast, Stubbs found all the daily papers on his table, pursuant to his directions. He took up one, and read, in large letters--"THEATRE. FIRST AND LAST APPEARANCE OF MR. HENRY AUGUSTUS CONSTANTINE STUBBS IN HAMLET."

He read no more. The paper dropped from his hands; and Mr. Stubbs remained nothing but a GENTLEMAN all the rest of his life--_Blackwood's Mag_.

* * * * *

LINES WRITTEN AT WARWICK CASTLE.[6]

BY CHARLES BADHAM, M.D. F.R.S.

_Professor of Medicine in the University of Glasgow_.