THE MUSAEID. No. III.-THURSDAY, APRIL 4, 1822. It was one o'clock. My master is gone to town,, said the servant: But Mrs. Penlove is at home?' interrogated the Doctor. I will ask, gentlemen; will you send in your names?' said the servant. Panacey and Volatile gave their cards to the man and he carried them to his mistress. O! to be sure,' said Mrs. Penlove; but she followed the servant into the ball. I must really beg your pardon; but William is quite new, and thought, I suppose, that no one could be admitted when we were at breakfast.' We,' said Volatile, who have you with you? Miss Annesley!' ejaculated he, entering the room, who thought of seeing Miss Annesley!' Salutations of surprize and pleasure were now mutually given, and the party resolved itself into a morning committee of scandal. : pretty handsomely now Mrs. Penlove you seemed · if I were able,' walking across the room; 'It would These words his lips had scarcely pass'd, He wounded fell and breath'd his last. When she had finished, and the necessary compliments were paid, Volatile and the Doctor took leave and departed. The song, the singer, the music, the coy confusions of Miss Fanny and Miss Finnikin, the affectation of Miss Jane, the exulting looks of Mamma, the sarcastic glances of Miss Annesley, the reproving yet half laughing countenance of sweet Mrs. Penlove, altogether presented such a scene as they found it impossible to withstand. said Miss Annesley, if I had such a green and Why did we not see you last night?' said the Doctor, addressing Miss Annesley. I only came this morning I dare say that is the reason,' rejoined the lady. For my part,' said Volatile, I am very glad you did arrive a day after the fair.' After the fair Miss Annesley could not come,' said the Doctor. Condescending to pun,' said Volatile, its an odious vulgarity. At least a courteous retort to a proverb,' said the lady, but why do you rejoice at my absence, I pray you?' From pure motives of humanity I assure you, fifty people's characters will be spared at least two days to come.' If I possessed any wit,' said Miss Annesley, there was nothing to exercise it last night: Mrs. Penlove has given me a pretty clear idea of the party, and with the assistance of her hand and eye has described them tolerably well-though to be sure my sister's quizzing is the most innocent in the world.''Pray,' said the Doctor, pray Mrs. Penlove did you speak to Mrs. Pinsleeve? she was quite easy in her admiration of the various dresses and millinery of the ladies, but much more technical I thought than was perfectly consistent with her professed acquaintance with the King.' 'Bless me,' said Miss Annesley, is not that Brighton marvel exploded? I have the marks of her thumb and finger on my arm yet, which detained me listening to it last Christmas but one.' I saw poor Miss Dandle in a similar jeopardy last night,' said Volatile, and, knight-errant-like, I was going to relieve her, had I not perceived another fair damsel in the utmost distress from the vociferous encounters of Prattleloud, and my heart more relented towards her.' 'Is that noisy wretch in existence,' said Miss Annesley.'O! do let me hear something about him,' said Vola-ber we ask Miss Blinkhorne to put our names down tile, he's my utter antipathy.' Nay, my dear fel- for it to-morrow: mamma,' turning to Volatile, 'wont low,' said the Doctor, you can never hear any thing let us have novels from the common circulating liabout him, his own rattle drowns every other sound braries, because, she says there's no discretion in in his vicinity-'tis like striking the tympanum with the choice of them,' Miss Jane, if I remember, is a drumstick and a feather at once.' I pardon that a lover of poetry!' O no! that's Fanny,' said Miss pun from sympathy,' said Volatile. Do you know,' Jane. And writes verses too, does she not?' said said Miss Annesley, he fixed upon me as a proper Volatile. O yes!' said Mrs. Finnikin turning round object for his butt last winter, and his great boits were levelled at me during a whole evening-he would have resumed his condescension on the following night but I shewed a disinclination to his notice, which he thought proper to resent.' And how did you rebuff him, such impudence as his would not be easily abashed.' I suffered him to stalk after me for a while, and once, when he was thrusting his flat blank countenance over Eliza Ailsworth's shoulder, to utter something which he considered exceedingly witty, I addressed him in grave terms on the impertinence of his conduct, and told him, from the specimen I had of his ability, if ever fortune should raise me to a throne, I would take especial care to send for him to court as a buffoon.' Poor Frank,' said Mrs. Penlove. 'I am afraid,' said the Doctor, you'd find him but a sad blockhead for a merryman.' No more punning,' said Volatile,' we've discussed Frank quite delighted with Volatile's attention to her daughters, Fanny writes very pretty verses, she's sent a many to the magazines.' What magazine does she honour with her productions?' said Volatile. O! you know Mamma they were never put in,' said Miss Finnikin, You are always talking about my poetry Mamma,' said Miss Fanny, 'I really wish you would not be so foolish.' Pray,' said Miss Annesley with most malicious meaning, can Miss Jane Finnikin remember the song which her sister Fanny wrote and Miss Finnikin composed-if she can perhaps she will oblige us by singing it.' 'Jane love,' said Mrs. Finnikin, try to sing it for us, will you my love?' 'Let me prevail with you Miss Jane,' said the Doctor, opening the piano and appearing anxious for her decision, though he knew well enough she would consent. I can't,' said Miss Jane, at the same time half drawing her glove: I'm sure, I can't,' pulling it entirely off, and fidgeting with the other; the Doctor looked still more desirous; indeed you must excuse me,' rising from the sopha; I really would ing; can you see no moral appended to the relation be a lampoon upon propriety. Think upon this mornof such an idle gossip? The very truth is more ridiculous than any invention could suppose it, and shews how far people may ramble without their senses, before they return to recover them. I am sure I did not mean to be irrational when I went, and you see what a fool I shall appear.-Miss Annesley is a clever girl, but she gives herself up to the habit of ridicule, and her good talents seldom appear. The Miss Finnikins are only fools because they push themselves into situations which they do not naturally fill. But you and I Volatile are the worst because we join in what we feel to be wrong, and indulge in a vice which we are sure is contemptible. TO CORRESPONDENTS. We have had several angry letters complaining of personality in our sketch of the new Bonnet, and others from ladies who would have been evidently pleased by our notice. Such difference there is in the dispositions of mankind. Our wish is only to oblige, and we are sorry that we cannot consistently reply that we both did and did not intend to be personal. The simple fact is this, we meant nobody, and meant every body in our descriptions. 'Who can come in, and say that we mean her, When such a one as she, such is her neighbour?' Lucy says we treat our correspondents with too much contempt, and supposes her own communication will be passed into oblivion-we beg her pardon-we shall publish it next week' clara Luce.' If a Well-wisher would revise and polish his compositions, we should be glad to hear from him occasionally. The dramatic scene is not only too long but too carelessly written for our purpose. It is returned according to his wish. V. wants to know who we are.-Good! What could encourage Dorothea to send such poetry to us 'non concessere columna'-our columns have not endured it. WEEKLY DIARY. APRIL. REMARKABLE DAYS. end of the church. A long band of priests | the pavement,-assembled together to await advanced, loaded with still augmenting mag- the blessings of an old man, their fellow mornificence, as they ascended to the higher orders. tal, now tottering on the brink of the grave. Cloth of gold, and embroidery of gold and Not the least picturesque figures among the silver, and crimson velvet, and mantles of throng, were the Contadini, who, in every SUNDAY, 7.-Easter Day, or Easter Sunday. dant train-bearers, and mitres and crucifixes their distant mountain villages, to receive the spotted ermine, and flowing trains, and atten- variety of curious costume, had flocked in from Much difference of opinion prevailed in the glittering with jewels, and priests and patri- blessings of the Holy Father, and whose bright Eastern and Western churches respecting the archs, and bishops and cardinals, dazzled the and eager countenances, shaded by their long precise time of observing Easter; till, in 325, astonished eye, and filled the whole length of dark hair, were turned to the balcony where the Council of Nice declared that the feast St. Peter's. Lastly came the Pope, in his crimson the Pope was to appear. At length the two should be kept by all churches on the same chair of state (sedia gestatoria), borne on the white ostrich-feather fans, the forerunners of day. Easter is styled by the fathers the high-shoulders of twenty Palfrenieri, arrayed in his approach, were seen; and he was borne est of all festivals, the feast of feasts, the robes of white, and wearing the tiara, or triple forward on his throne, above the shoulders of queen of festivals, and Dominica Gaudií, the crown of the conjoined Trinity, with a canopy the Cardinals and Bishops, who filled the baljoyous Sunday. Masters granted freedom to of cloth of silver floating over his head; and cony. After an audible prayer he arose, and, their slaves at this season, and valuable pre-preceded by two men, carrying enormous fans, elevating his hands to heaven, invoked a solemn sents were made to the poor. composed of large plumes of ostrich feathers, benediction upon the assembled multitude, and A very singular custom formerly prevailed mounted on long gilded wands. He stopped to the people committed to his charge. Every at Lostwithiel, in Cornwall, upon Easter Sun-pay his adorations to the miraculous Madonna head was uncovered; the soldiers, and many day. The freeholders of the town and manor in her chapel, about half way up; and this of the spectators, sunk on their knees on the having assembled together, either in person duty which he never omits, being performed, pavement to receive the blessing. That blesor by their deputies, one among them, each he was slowly borne past the High Altar, sing was given with impressive solemnity, but in his turn, gaily attired and gallantly mount- liberally giving his benediction with the twirl with little of gesture or parade. Immediately ed, with a sceptre in his hand, a crown on his of the three fingers as he passed. the thundering of cannon from the castle St. head, and a sword borne before him, and re- They then set him down upon a mag- Angelo, and the peal of bells from St. Peter's, spectfully attended by all the rest on horse- nificent stool, in front of the altar, on which proclaimed the joyful tidings to the skies. The back, rode through the principal street in so- he knelt, and his crown being taken off, and Pope was borne out, and the people rose from lemn state to the church. At the churchyard the Cardinals taking off their little red skull- their knees.' stile the curate or other minister approached caps, and all kneeling in a row, he was supto meet him in reverential pomp, and then posed to pray. Having remained a few minutes conducted him to church to hear divine ser- in this attitude, they took him to the chair vice. On leaving the church, he repaired with prepared for him, on the right of the throne. the same pomp and retinue to a house previ- There he read, or seemed to read, something ously prepared for his reception. Here a feast, out of a book, and then he was again taken to suited to the dignity he had assumed, awaited the altar, on which his tiara was placed; and, him and his suite; and being placed at the bare-headed, he repeated-or, as by courtesy, head of the table, he was served, kneeling, they call it, sang a small part of the service, with all the rights and ceremonies that a real threw up clouds of incense, and was removed prince might expect. This ceremony ended to the crimson-canopied throne; and high with the dinner; the prince being voluntarily mass was celebrated by a cardinal and two SEA STORIES; disrobed, and descending from his momentary bishops, at which he assisted. During the Or, the Voyage and Adventures of Cyril Shenstone, Esq. exaltation to mix with common mortals. On whole of the service, it was observed that the the origin of this custom but one opinion can only part of the congregation who were in the be reasonably entertained, though it may be least attentive, were the small body of English, difficult to trace the precise period of its com- whom curiosity, and perhaps a sense of decomencement. It seems to have originated in rum rendered so. All the Italians seemed to the actual appearance of the prince, who consider it quite as much of a pageant as ourresided at Restormel Castle in former ages. selves, but neither a new nor an interesting one; But on the removal of royalty, this mimic and they were walking about, and talking, and grandeur stepped forth as its shadowy re-interchanging pinches of snuff with each other, presentative, and continued for many genera- exactly as if it had been a place of amusement, tions as a memorial to posterity of the princely-till the tinkling of a little bell, which anmagnificence with which Lostwithiel had for-nounced the elevation of the Host, changed merly been honoured. (Hitchin's History of Cornwall, 4to.) On Easter Sunday, the grandest Catholic festival of the year, the church puts forth all her pomp and splendour, which are seen to the greatest advantage in the noble church of St. Peter's at Rome. The Pope assists at high mass, and there is a very grand procession, which, as it took place in the year 1818, is well described by the indefatigable author quoted in our last. "The church," says our observer," was lined with the Guarda Nobile, in their splendid uniforms of gold and scarlet and nodding plumes of white ostrich feathers, and the Swiss guards, with their polished cuirasses and steel helmets. The great centre aisle was kept clear by a double wall of armed men, for the grand procession, the approach of which, after much expectation, was proclaimed by the sound of a trumpet from the farther Rome in the Nineteenth Century. the scene. Every knee was now bent to the The tops of the colonnades all round were, The pope's benediction this day, the Italians say, extends all over the world, but on Thursday it only goes to the gates of Rome. On Thursday, too, previously to the benediction, one of the Cardinals curses all Jews, Turks, and heretics, by bell, book, and candle.' The little bell is rung, the curse is sung from the book, and the lighted taper thrown down among the people. The Pope's benediction immedi ately follows upon all true believers. No. VII. BRABANTIO. Mark how a villain may awhile succeed (Continued from our last.) This was for longer stay excuse While round are hung, the walls to graee, There seated in that festive place, 1 Unnumbered crimes which I had done, As swift as when between the clouds, And while we chatted o'er the bowl, Than this there never could have been. I told them tales about the wars, XXII. SONG. FITZALBAN. In an ancient ball Fitzalban lives, He is a Baron bold, 'Tis open to the wanderer's call, Same as it was of old. By a silver lake, In a noble park, His ancient castle stands; And he both fish and game can take, From his own lake and lands. Fitzalban is bold, Fitzalban is brave, And not more famed for land and gold, So then may no traveller Without singing Fitzalban When I my simple song had ceas'd, XXIV. Quickly the tale had gone its round, 'Bold Robin Hood hated the friars and priests, Little John and Will Scarlet and more than I know, XXV. My tale would now be much too long, SONG CONCLUDED. Fitzalban's not plagued with such outlaws as he, But robbers and poachers his merry park flee; And in bis old hall mirth aud pleasure abound, While peace and tranquility reign all around. There thou art wrong,' old Edward said, 'Unto our Lord the man we took, I did, and learned the story o'er, When morning came I left the hall, (TO BE CONTINUED.) CORRESPONDENCE. TO THE EDITOR. -Desinant Maledicere malefacta ne noscant sua.-TER. Let the club of others cease to speak ill, Lest of their own misdeeds they hear 'gainst their will OBS. SIR,-I am as much pleased with works of ingenious fiction as any man, when they are used in the cause of virtue, or tend to innocent amusement: but when I find them employed in the diffusion of scandal, misrepresentation, and falsehood, then I conceive it to be the duty of every lover of truth, to step forward and unmask the pretender, to strip the lion's skin from his recreant limbs, and show the world the asses ears concealed beneath. Such was the object of my former letter, and I flatter myself, the success attendant on my endeavours, has been such as not to deter me from the prosecution of my plan. Let the Club' indulge themselves as much as they please in the works of imagination, but when they pretend to represent the manners of the age, or lash the follies of the day, let them then, at least, have some regard to truth, and though they nothing extenuate, let them not set ought down in malice. Let them reflect that they who live in glass-houses should not be the first to throw stones, for they who attack another, unprovoked, must expect retaliation, and if they are not quite so gently treated as they may wish, it is the natural result of their own conduct, and they are themselves only to blame. Whether I have a musical oddity of face, or recite with a northern accent,-whether I have married a blue stocking, or framed a foolish hypothesis, can make no more difference to your readers than if I was a spouting character of notoriety,-a frequenter of ale house clubs,-a self-created critic,--or a nodest Clubite, not sparing of self-praise, for they will still look at the Club' with the same merited contempt, with which the world in general treats those who are brought up in the school of scandal. They will still have the same reason to admire their vanity and egotism, their impudence and assurance. Though indeed my claim to praise, for my efforts to expose them, may not be so worthy of praise, if they arise from private feeling, yet it can make no difference as to the merits of the Club' in the eye of the world. As I am too modest to take praise to myself where it is not my due; it becomes me to admit, that I have neither generosity sufficient voluntarily to become a victim, nor courage enough to attack a windmill, lest your readers by my silence should think I laid claim to such distinction. No, indeed, those would be undertakings far too elevated for me, who ought only to meddle with humbler matters, such for instance, as the Club;' for though a worm may feel a pang as great as when a giant dies, yet the same degree of exertions or abilities is not required, to destroy the one as the other, nor is the destroyer of mean animals considered equal to the hunter of nobler brutes, or is he required to have the same extent of courage or capacity. I trust that I am equally as willing to receive as to give advice, and shall certainly avail myself even of that of the Club,' if ever I find any thing useful to myself; but am sorry to say, their labour is at present thrown away upon me, as they do not seem to understand the situation in which I am placed. The conduct of the members of the Club,' had already led me to imagine, that many other persons were connected with ridiculous clubs than those with whom I am associated, and I am pleased to have my ideas confirmed by their own acknowledg ment. like the characters in the Dunciad, only notorious for their folly and dullness. From such objects, however ambitious may be their views, the world can have little to fear, but has much to expect in the way of amusement from their assumed importance,— their egregious vanity, and their invulnerable egotism. If your readers can discover in the conspicuous display made of these qualities, by the Club,' the advocates of rational opinions and the cheerful encomiasts of real excellence, then ought they not to withold their tribute of praise, but if, on the contrary, they perceive that their aim is to misrepresent and to detract from whatever is useful or good, then, however much they may be amused by their futile attempts, they must hold them in sovereign contempt. If I had indeed been the first to utter the war whoop and lift the hatchet, then should I conceive myself in the wrong, but, when I merely take up my pen to expose slanderers, I feel myself perfectly justified in holding up to ridicule both them and their objects, and shall not shrink from the task, though tenfold the wit that enlivens and the elegance that adorns' their compositions, were arrayed against me; nor shall they find me in the least afraid either of themselves or the dragon, as I consider them both to be creatures better adapted for the meridian of a pot house, than the pages of the Iris, and each of whom I shall always treat with an equal degree of respect, and consider alike, useful, valuable, and estimable. If the laurel branches were the real object of my ambition, I certainly have shewn a want of judgment, in suffering my pen to dwell upon so mean a subject You have saved me the trouble of disavowing all connection with the Club.' The connection is, however, one of which I should have been proud; for to discover the superior talent of the author or authors of the papers in question, the mere ordinary reader need only to compare the essays of the Club,' with the learned letters by which they have been assailed. The genius evinced by the Club,' can neither acquire reputation by my praises, nor lose it by the feeling sneers of Ichneumon. Ichneumon is certainly very consistent, when he reproaches a supposed author of the Club,' for his personalities. The motive of Ichneumon's interference with the Club,' is, I think, very apparent. It is plain that he is quite ignorant of the source of the letters; for you, sir, have, with generous mildness, exposed his mistake: and I therefore think that the readers of the Iris have, from circumstances, a right to infer, that Ichneumon has meanly availed himself of this opportunity to attempt to wound the feelings of some individual, who has, for reasons best known to himself, found it proper to shun his society. Let him explain this matter as he may his readers will judge from facts which he can neither pervert nor conceal. This worthy member of a worthy fraternity seems tion respecting your partialities, as well as from his with inconsistencies. I fear that a little advice would be thrown away A CLUBITE. TO CORRESPONDENTS. for the exercise of its skill as is the Club.' With a Tis hard to say if greater want of skill Appears in writing or in judging ill: But of the two less dangerous is th' offence, To tire our patience than mislead our sense Some few in that but numbers err in this, Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss. and then proceed again to censure and criticise as much as they please, for the world must be made conscious of their own abilities, before they will take their censures or criticism upon trust.-I am March 22th, 1822. AN OBSERVER The Letter of A Friend,' in reply to the Philosophical We are under the necessity of apprising our correspondents, We wish Observer' would substantiate the charges which We have received P. L.'s letter: but as it consists merely of mistaken in the allusion he makes. We wish he would Further communications to acknowledge-Philomathes.- THEATRE-ROYAL, MANCHESTER. FOR EASTER WEEK ONLY! The Re-engagement of Mr. Lee's Magnificent Pageant of the Coronation. On Easter Monday, April 8th, will be Performed the popular Play of BRUTUS; or, THE FALL OF TARQUIN. After which, will be presented, for the 20th time at this Theatre, the Grand Pageant of the CORONATION OF HIS MAJESTY GEORGE THE FOUrth, Which still continues to be performed at the TheatreRoyal, Drury-Lane, to crowded and overflowing houses. The whole produced, at an immense expense, by Mr. Lee, from London, who is engaged for THIS WEEK ONLY!!! A Dramatic Performance will precede the Coronation Introduction and Grand March.-Composed and ex- Solo Flute.-Master Minasi, the much admired air, ...... Solo Flute.-Master Minasi, the much admired air, "O Dolce Concento," by Mozart, with variations, accompanied by Mr. Minasi and Mr. Bardsley. J. F. Burrowes and C. Nicholson. Solo Flute.-Master Minasi, "Oh! Nanny, wilt thon gang wi' me?" and the favourite Hungarian Waltz, with piano and flute accompaniments. "I have lost my love, but I care not," a favourite air, with introduction, and variations for the pianoforte. M: S... Bardsley. Italian Air." Sul Margine d'un rio," with an introduction and variations for the flute, composed expressly for, and dedicated to Master Minasi, by Lacy.. Lacy. Solo Flute-Master Minasi, the favourite air, "Yellow-hair'd Laddie," with new introduction and divertimento, composed expressly for, and dedicated to him, accompanied on the piano, by Mr. Bardsley....... Lacy. This will be the last time of Master Minasi's appearance in Manchester, previous to his departure, ADMITTANCE, THREE SHILLINGS. The Doors will be open at Six, and the Performance will commence precisely at Seven in the Evening. MANCHESTER: Printed, Published, and Sold, by FOR THE IRIS. VOLCANOES. THE opinion of the Philosophical part of the world respecting the cause of these awful phenomena could never be reconciled, yet, it is generally acknowledged that, though their effects may be prejudicial to some parts of the world, they tend to the well-being, if not the preservation, of the whole. Were it not for these vent holes of the earth, as we may justly call them, the accumulation of the internal fire, and consequent dilatation of subterranean bodies, would certainly produce earthquakes very frequently, which all must allow are (to the world in general) of much worse consequences than volcanoes. Thus, were it possible to fill up Etna, Vesuvius, and all mountains of the like nature, we should undoubtedly subject ourselves to earthquakes, which would in time break up the shell of our world, and destroy it, at least as a habitable globe. Some have endeavoured to account for the immensity of flame and heat which are given out during an eruption, by the decomposition of water and consequent production of inflammable air. There undoubtedly is in the interior of the earth, a large space filled with fire and water, the former of which, by the assistance of iron, charcoal, &c. resolves the latter into its constituent elements, viz. oxygen or vital air, and hydrogen or inflammable air; whenever this decomposition takes place it must be in large quantities, and a considerable volume of both these gases must be disengaged: oxygen is absorbed by all bodies during combustion, but hydrogen is itself a combustible body, the oxygen is consequently absorbed as soon as it is produced, and the hydrogen is united with the subterranean fire, but from its natural lightness and being now combined with a considerable quantity of heat, it has a strong tendency SATURDAY, APRIL 13, 1822. are caused by the expansive force of steam, | aided by fire; but from what has been before said respecting the decomposition of water, steam can have little or no power, as the water instead of being converted into vapour is reduced into air, therefore steam can have little A more modern, and agency in these cases. perhaps a more reasonable theory, supposes that eruptions are caused by the central fire coming in contact with large quantities of sulphur, nitre, and other substances, which have the property of detonating when mixed. That these exist in the earth, combined with other bodies, none can doubt; and it is clear from the examples which gunpowder, &c. give us, that the combination of these bodies with heat, is fully sufficient to produce the effects recorded of the eruptions of Etna. In answer to this explanation, however, it may be asked, why do not eruptions happen more frequently, for we may suppose the fire, sulphurous, and bitunot the eruptions continue until the whole inminous rocks to be stationary, and why do flammable matter is spent. WEEKLY. PRICE 3 d. beyond a doubt, by the extraordinary interest which his pictures excite, not only among the graphically untutored, but the most cultivated tastes. They are not only crowded about in the Exhibition-room, but are the after-subjects of charmed recollection and discourse. Like impressions of friendship, they exist in the mind, after the objects which first produced them are withdrawn from the sight; for without the aid of the Engraver and Painter, we carry away beautiful impressions of them upon our imaginations. They at once become interwoven in the finely-wrought texture of sensibility and thought. The fire of genius burns them at once into our memories. But the pure pictorial ore is not without alloy. Mr. MARTIN has a correct and elegant eye for the arrangement of his architecture, landscape, and figures, (of a mixture of which his works generally con sist,) and a strong and imaginative conception of his subject; but he wants a proportionate tion all its force. In the language of his art, power of proper execution, to give that concep he is inferior to his invention. In the latter, From this short view of the theories which he rises above common nature into the poetical; have been raised to explain these wonders of in the first, he is below it. His xecution is nature, we see that none of them are satisfac- indeed vigorous; but it is a mannered vigor. tory, they are all liable to objection, and pro- It has too little identification with the things bably will be so until our knowledge of elec- represented, for it wants that true exterior of tricity (which is yet in its infancy), advances, objects, that similitude to their surface in na for let the true cause be what it may, electricity ture, which, whether the subject be elevated or seems to bear a considerable part, as in a late common, ought to characterise every picture, eruption of Vesuvius the air was so strongly whatever some esteemed critics, with REYelectrified that it would charge a Leyden phial NOLD's at their head, may say to the contrary; when held out of the window. Thus as the--such a truth of surface as represented the science of electricity becomes better under-mist, the vegetation, &c. in CLAUDE's pictures; stood, we shall be more able to judge of the and the flesh, &c. in TITIAN's, as Nature's own. awful phenomena in a state of activity during the dignity of Nature, but imitates a portion of agent which keeps these extraordinary and --This true appearance never derogates from ercise our imaginations in forming theories, so many centuries, until then we can only ex- her rich and beautiful variety. which must, like their predecessors in every science, sink into nothing, as experiment and observation establish more certain grounds on which we may reason. FINE ARTS. LAPIS. observation, is in no small degree an excepThe picture, however, immediately under our tion to this animadversion; for its requisite volcanic luminousness is there not inappropriately represented by that clear and brittly look, which is mainly the erroneous surface we have been complaining of in this Artist's works. There has been also a want of more science and to ascend, and at the first vent rushes out in the state of flame, with an inconceivable force, bearing with it stones, earth, and whatever oppose its passage, which it sometimes melts, forming lava. This theory, however, is liable PICTURE OF THE DESTRUCTION OF an unconstrained air in this Painter's figures, to some objections, for the force which is manifested at Etna and Vesuvius in throwing stones 40 and 60 miles, cannot well be engendered in the inere tendency of the air to ascend; and as we are not to suppose a partition between the fire and the water, why does not this admixture oftener take place? POMPEII AND HERCULANEUM. "What thought can reach, What language can express, the agonies, The horrors of that hour!" E. ATHERSTONE's Last Days of Herculaneum. Whatever variety of opinion exists as to the It has been the opinion of others, that erup-kind and degree of Mr. MARTIN's genius, the tions and all the phenomena attendant thereon, fact of its being of a very high order is placed together with some of that deep but not externally agitated look of grief and despair, which Poussin, with so observant and various a knowledge of the human figure, physiognomy, and heart, intermixed among others of a strenuous character. With a diminished, and indeed a comparatively small portion of these defects, including also the size of the picture, which seems to limit the magnificent |