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moon, as the old ballad sings, seemed to shine blithe in my face,' as I bounded homewards; and, as despising the opinion of the world, I rejoiced in the prospect of obtaining at last my yet lovely and blooming Mary Ogilvie.' "

There is another story called "the Love Match," which is less sentimental, but hardly less entertaining. The rest of the volume is made up of a well written essay, depicting the changes in society and manners in the west of Scotland during the last half century. It is of a more readable kind than Scotch essays generally are, and creditable to the writer's philosophy and patriotism. Indeed the whole contents of the volume are calculated to reflect credit on the literature of the country to which the writer belongs. We have only to regret that the typographical execution is not of a higher order.

And love, within the heart and eye,
May bloom, but no return may meet;
Like Noah's dove, may wandering fly,
But homeward will at last retreat:
Hopeless it leaves upon the cheek

Of blooming health, Death's pale decay,
And preying on a mind too weak,
Wastes heart, and frame, and life away.
Oh Life! thy joys are but a dream,
And scarce deserve a smile or sigh;
They fly us like the minstrel theme,
That lives, but leaves the bard to die."

The Highlanders, a Tale. By the Author of "The Hermit in London," &c. 3 vols, 8vo. London: H. Colburn. 1824.

Myrtle Leaves; a Collection of Poems, chiefly Amatory. | respect to authors. A man must not hope to write spiritBy T. W. KELLY.

64

London: Sherwood and Co. 1824.

"The

It is well

"Non omnia possumus omnes," is true enough with ed and clever dissertations, and at the same time to be able to construct intricate and probable stories, and fill them THE poems in this little volume are manifest imita- up with real, living and interesting personages. tions of the amatory effusions of Moore. They have the Hermit" has been very successful in his essays, but we same burning spirit and voluptuous expression about suspect his novel will not be so fortunate. them, and every stanza is full of "Paphian Goddesses," enough written, so far as language is concerned, yet it rosy cheeks," ," "humid lips," "dovelike eyes," kisses, wants interest, probability, and dramatic character. blisses, &c. &c. and all the other small artillery of erotic The story turns upon the fortunes of the orphan daughpoetry. We are no great admirers of this kind of writ-ter of a highland chief, who is obliged to struggle ing, even in its most successful form. Not that it is through a series of difficulties, doubts, and suspicions very perilous reading except to persons of the feeblest which embitter and try her feelings to the extreme. intellects and the strongest passions, but because it is Her betrothed is imagined to be dead, she is exposed generally the result of spurious and extravagant feel- to much temptation, and the strength of her friendship ing. What can be the worth of a sentiment which is and fidelity of her nature subject her to the most fatal scattered about with the most liberal and indiscriminate doubts even of her lover, who appears at last, profusion? Can there be any heart in the passion though in disguise. The situations are well conceived, which embraces a whole tribe of Julias, Rosas, Phillises, but there is not much skill in their management. Mabellas, &c.? So far as the sentiment is concerned, There is a cousin of the heroine who falls a victim to we dislike the thing altogether, but a pretty thought, a the arts of a titled seducer, under whom it is evidently delicate expression, or a happy conceit sometimes oc- intended to delineate some of the imputed characteriscurs, which is worth admiration. Mr. Kelly is smooth tics of Lord Byron. The story of the sufferer is melanand easy in his versification, and rich in his diction. choly and affecting; the character of the seducer is It is not a difficult style of writing, and the old phrases too much in the style of his sect to excite much attenserve very well to express the old notions. We will ex- tion. Part of the scene is laid in the highlands, and tract the following "Stanzas" as a specimen. They we are furnished with copious descriptions of the counare a fair average of the merit of the rest :try and manners. The author deals occasionally in "the 'Ercles' vein," as in the following passage:

"How oft, without or help or guide,

We stray in life's uncertain path! Receiving in our hour of pride,

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Men's smiles, their favours, and their wrath!
For pleasures spring with new desire;
The page of learning, ah, how bright!
What joys are kindled by the fire

From beauty's eye of beaming light!
A snow-white hand, a flush'd warm cheek,
But oh! they but our passions feed;
They but deceive the heart, and break-
They but our wayward youth mislead.
Ambition holds the nectar'd drink,
It, in the golden vase, looks fair,
But what fond lip can touch the brink,
Nor quaff a sea of sorrows there?

"The rock rises to the height of at least two hundred, feet, and close by its base, the restless waves of the Atlantic, green and transparent as that stone which is named after them, alternately ripple and thunder among the clean and variegated pebbles. On the rock itself they make no impression. It stands like a man, whose story and whose centre are in himself; and who, like the long line of chieftains, of whom the castle has been the dwelling, dares all external powers to do their worst. You gaze upon it,-it carries you back to the beginning of time, and forward to the end. It says, it was an integrant part of the globe, ere the waters of Noah covered the earth; and seems to give promise that it will be an integrant part of the renovated globe, after the organized remains of this one shall be, like those of the former, enshrined in the rock, and entombed in the bowels of the antient hills."

But there are much better descriptions, though we have no room for them. The part which relates to London society is tolerably well executed. And here too we can give but an unfavourable specimen, because it is the only passage short enough for our columns:

"But,' continued her Grace, 6 my second footman shall order any refreshment you may choose to have, and your Highland Hottentot shall be taken care of. 'Pon my rank and honour, she puts me in mind of a goblin waitingwoman. Good bye, child-good bye.'

"Flora, taking her Highland Hottentot with her, withdrew, somewhat at a loss how to interpret the language of the Duchess. She rose in the morning little refreshed; and had paced the breakfast-room for two full hours and a half, at the end of which period the Duchess made her entree, en robe de chambre, and rather more en deshabille than

Flora had been accustomed to.

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*. I must really take some ether,' said her Grace on entering; the racketings about in the grande monde quite knock me up; I shan't be sorry, that I shan't, when we go to the Priory.'

I am sorry to find that your Grace is indisposed,' said Flora, at a loss for a corresponding answer to the words in which the Duchess had addressed her.

"Ola! a trifle, child, a mere trifle; 'twill go off with some of the genuine green tea. But a-propos, here are my three Graces;-the first, you must know, is Grace by name as well as Grace by nater; she is my eldest daughter; Lady Grace the Grace; this next is Lady Mary, the wit; and yonder third is Lady Susan, the sentimentator. Lady Grace dances like a very divinity; Lady Mary sings like a cherub; and my youngest writes well enough to make a fortune. Entre nous, she is a poet; but you may well suppose that the daughters of a Duke disdains to have any thing to do with printer folks.'

so Flora was again permitted to retire into her own apartment, until eight o'clock should summon her to the dinner party."

Though we are not inclined to speak very highly of any part of this tale, yet we can say that as far as our knowledge in these matters extends, it is equal to the majority of the productions which furnish out the shelves of circulating libraries.

TO THE

EDITOR OF THE SOMERSET HOUSE GAZETTE.
SIR,

THE general interest excited by the panoramic view of the ancient city of Pompeii, which had been buried for the space of seventeen hundred years, induces me to send you some selections from Sir W. Gell's account of his researches among the ruins of that spot, trusting that they will serve to illustrate certain passages in that well painted scene to amuse your readers, and help to recommend to notice a work beautifully illustrated with prints in line engraving, truly descriptive of the interiors and exteriors of the temples, theatres, and domestic structures of antiquity, which renders this site, to the philosophic mind, the most interesting spot in the world.

"The city of Pompeii, distant about thirteen miles from Naples, stood originally upon a rising ground, overlooking a fertile plain, which stretched on one side towards Nola, and on the other to Nuceria and Stabia.

"The young ladies shook Flora coolly by the hand; the green tea was poured out, and the Duchess, catching inspi-mass of volcanic matter poured upon this ill-fated city by ration from it, continued:

"My eldest daughter is the very image of the Duke; Mary is thought like me;' (here Mary turned on her mother a look composed of one-third doubt, and two-thirds denial;) and Lady Susan-why I really don't know whom she is like, unless it be my uncle, who was twice Lord Mayor of the city of London.'

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6

"The eminence is at present much increased by the Vesuvius; for while the cinders, which fell upon the fields, have been either decomposed and carried away by subsequent rains, or have only caused an encroachment on the sea; the walls and habitations of the city have served to retain within their circuit all that was discharged upon the spot by the volcano; so that the extent of the buildings is very distinctly marked by the hill, formed of pumice, and the gradual accumulation of vegetable earth which covers it.

Pompeii was however always upon a height, as the ascent by the street of the tombs sufficiently proves; and the apparent elevation of the city above the sea must have been anciently much the same as at present; for, as the soil is generally raised but little higher than the top of the lower stories of the houses, the upper apartments and the public buildings might have nearly equalled the trees which now clothe the summit; this eminence seems to have been formed at some very remote period, and is connected with the foot of Vesuvius, from which it may be considered as a sort of promontory stretching into the plain.

La! what stuff,' said the poetess, tossing her head; this cannot be very amusing to a stranger.' "You are a saucy puss, replied her Grace, patting her on the cheek, and thereby indicating that the three Graces sometimes made inroads upon the throne and power of old Juno herself; and Flora, anxious to give a new turn to a conversation which was neither profitable nor pleasing, respectfully inquired into the plan of instruction for the day. Why, to-day, child,' said the Duchess; let me You must not see, mamma,' said the Lady Grace; 'for at three, my miniature is to be taken.' And at half after four you have company to practise a quadrille,' said "It is surprising, that with such a testimony of former her lady mother. And I,' said Lady Mary, am engaged devastation as the city of Pompeii before their eyes, and the to ride with Cavendish Comsey.' Yes, and I,' said Susan, frequent recurrence of similar ravages, the people of the 'promised to finish a sonnet for the old Duke, and must country should have ventured to erect two large and popuafterwards show myself in the Park, for fear we should all lous villages three miles nearer the crater of Vesuvius, be forgotten.' That's impossible,' replied mamma. I especially as they invariably evince the greatest alarm mean, resumed the third Grace, forgotten at Lady Gol-when the mountain exhibits any symptoms of an approachbourn's fancy ball, for Tuesday. That we wont, quothing eruption. the Duchess; she knows what's what better than to leave out a Duchess Dowager and her three daughters.' "Thus ended the deliberation; and, as the deliberations of more sage and solemn personages sometimes end, it closed with a resolution, that nothing should be done; and

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6

An idea has prevailed, that the sea once washed the walls of Pompeii; but though it is said that rings have been. found, to which it has been supposed vessels were anciently. moored, close to the ruins; yet there seems great reason to believe, that the trade of Pompeii was carried on, as

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"The gates of the city now visible are five in number; they are known on the spot, by the names of the gate of Herculaneum or Naples, the gate of Vesuvius, the gate of Nola, that of Sarno, and the gate of Stabia; but as these names have been applied since the discovery of the ruins, they must be considered merely as modern appellations; for neither the ruins themselves, nor any existing authority, afford any document for determining their ancient designations.

There may have been other openings of less consequence, communicating with the great streets by little passages, which descend to the walls in a part now covered by the rubbish of the excavations; for from the gate of Stabia to that of Naples, a space nearly equal to half the circumference of Pompeii, the city could scarcely be without a considerable outlet; unless the sea, as before mentioned to have been supposed by some, had anciently washed the walls: but none has yet been discovered.

"The excavations afford an opportunity of observing, that the ruin of Pompeii was not effected by an uniform shower of cinders or pumice-stones. A section near the amphitheatre gives the general proportions of the mass under which the city is buried to the depth of about twenty feet. Separating the whole into five portions, we shall find the first three to consist of pumice-stone in small pieces, resembling a light white cinder, and covering the pavement to the depth of twelve feet: the next portion is composed of six parts, beginning with a stratum of small black stones, not more than three inches in thickness; to this succeeds a thin layer of mud, or earth which has been mixed with water, and appears to have been deposited in a liquid state; upon this lies another thin stratum of little stones, of a mixed hue, in which blue predominates; a second stratum of mud, separated from a third by a thin wavy line of mixed blue stones, completes the fourth portion; while the fifth or highest division, consists entirely of vegetable earth, principally formed by the gradual decomposition of the volcanic matter from the date of the eruption to the present day.

"Pompeii is thus made twenty miles distant from Naples, and if no better guide than these very inaccurate tables was consulted, it is not surprising that its true site should have been unknown, even to Cluverius; though a very "The gate of Nola is the only one of which the arch is slight examination of the spot, where a considerable quan- preserved: from which circumstance, on a superficial view, tity of Roman brickwork was always visible, ought to have it has sometimes been imagined to have been of more conenabled him to ascertain it: a peasant who sinking a well sequence than the others, whereas it is in fact of smaller in his garden, found some fragments of marble, by accident || dimensions. brought to light Herculaneum, which, buried under accumulated beds of lava, to the depth of above sixty feet, might possibly have remained for ever undiscovered, whereas the ruins of Pompeii might have been observed by any traveller || along the road. "No one, however, could have suspected how rich a mine of antiquities existed here, until a labourer, in the middle of the last century, found, in ploughing, a statue of brass; which circumstance being reported to government, was one of the causes which led to the first excavations; and subsequently the accidental discovery of the temple of Isis, while some workmen were employed in the construction of a subterraneous aqueduct for the use of the manufactory of arms at Torre dell' Annunziata, contributed not a little to confirm the expectations which had been excited. Since that period the operations have always been carrying on, with more or less activity, so that by degrees the whole will be cleared. In the mean time, notwithstanding the great attention which has been bestowed on the preservation of the monuments first found, they are beginning to suffer from the effects of that exposure which has taken place since their second birth. In the short space of time which has elapsed since their discovery, the|| alternations of winter and summer have generally effaced the paintings, and in many instances entirely stripped every trace of stucco from the walls; the winter months, though mild in comparison with the same season in the north of Europe, are generally accompanied by torrents of rain, which gradually insinuating itself between the bricks and the plaster, loosens and forces off, first indeed small portions, but eventually detaches the whole; so that we are not permitted to hope that the theatres, houses, or temples, constucted as they are of the most perishable materials, can remain for the satisfaction of posterity; and although, in this point of view, it may be considered fortunate for the succeeding generation that the operations proceed so slowly; I still too much cannot now be done to preserve the memory of what exists. The fortifications, however, which are in some parts built with solid blocks of stone, may yet remain for many centuries, as the doric temple would have done had it not been destroyed by external force; whereas a short period must suffice to destroy every vestige of the rest of the city, which is built of bricks and rubble work, without any pretension to durability or excellence of construction. The streets are curiously paved, with irregularly shaped pieces of black volcanic stone, well put together, and generally exhibiting the tracks of wheels. The town was originally founded upon an ancient bed of lava, though there exists no record of an earlier eruption than that which destroyed it.

"From the evident agency of water, observable in some of these strata, a theory has been published, which attempts, in spite of history and Vesuvius, to account for the depositions at Pompeii as the effect of alluvion; the natural inference, however, to be drawn from an inspection of the spot seems to be, that the hot pumice-stone fell in successive showers, and not in one mass. Had the latter been the case, the city must indeed have become the tomb of its inhabitants; whereas, comparatively, few skeletons have been found. The strata of mud were also discharged in a very liquid state from the mountain, an event by no means uncommon during later eruptions; and it is from this circumstance that vaulted passages, of which the covering still remains entire, are usually found as completely full of the deposition as the open courts, or the chambers where the roofs have been consumed.

"It will be easy to account for the general disappearance of the upper story, of which the traces often exist, not only in the staircases, but sometimes in the paintings and remaining walls; for the volcanic matter does not appear to have been discharged in sufficient quantity to have buried the whole of the walls of the ground floor, throughout all parts of the city; consequently, whatever rose to a greater height remained a ruin accessible to the surviving proprietors, and liable to the same destruction from time, or removal of the materials for conversion, as any other neglected building. In many parts of the city, the upper stories still remain; but they seem to have been of very inferior consequence to those on the ground-floor.

"Many circumstances observable in Pompeii would appear incomprehensible, did we not recollect that the destruction of the city was the work of two distinct periods of calamity; and that the restoration of its buildings, after the great earthquake, was only taking place at the moment of its final extinction. This earthquake, by which Pompeii was almost destroyed, happened, as we are informed by Seneca, in the ninth year of the reign of the Emperor Nero. about sixteen years previous to the eruption; and the unfinished state of the repairs in many of the buildings attests the fact.

"We are led by one of the sepulchral inscriptions to look for the discovery of a temple of Ceres, as the learned seemed disposed to refer that of the Grecian doric order near the theatre to the worship of Neptune.

"It appears to have been sometimes the practice during the first excavations at Pompeii, to throw into that relinquished the materials drawn from the next explored, after the paintings, mosaic pavements, and other articles considered valuable, had been removed; but a contrary system was subsequently adopted, and is now acted upon.

"Although their better preservation was the end consulted in thus transferring these monuments to form a part of a distant collection; still it is much to be regretted that means could not have been devised for their preservation on the precise spot at which they were originally found, and where locality would have thrown around them an interest which they entirely lose when crowded with other curiosities into Museums of Portici or Naples."

THEATRES.

"The theatres of Rome, for a long time of wood, were commonly open at top: and the scenic representations took place in open day. The seats were occupied at random by the first comers, until the time of Scipio Africanus: but by the Roscian Law the lower fourteen were reserved for the dignified orders. Under Pompey they first became regular structures; and subsequently Augustus undertook to regulate the disorder which continually arose amongst the spectators in a space so undefined, and of which every part was easily accessible to any individual who had once made good an entry.

"When Augustus assigned to each order its place, he distributed the military distinct from the populace. Separate cunei and cinctions were allotted to the priests, the vestals, and various distinguished orders. To the senators were reserved the seats in the immediate vicinity of the orchestra, and amongst them sat the ambassadors of foreign nations; while women and strangers were withdrawn to the galleries, which ranged around the upper part of the cavea. Julius Cæsar had before extended to children and grand-children the privileges of their fathers.

"Three great divisions are distinguishable in the theatre at Pompeii. In the lowest near the orchestra, the seats or steps of greater width, mark the place whence the civil magistrates, the college of priests, and those distinguished by the offices they held, or the honours they had received, saw the performances, placed in their curule chairs, and bisellii, or privileged seats. The middle seats, less ample in their dimensions, had cushions; while the gallery above, considered effeminate, was covered over.

"The stage, or proscenium was considerably elevated, and the scene was richly decorated with ornaments of architecture and paintings. Behind this was the postscenium, for the actors to retire into. Near the theatre was usually a portico, to which the audience withdrew in the event of unfavourable weather."

podium, or basement, upon which they where elevated. In the religious edifices of an early age, no such character appears: they were placed upon two or three steps only, if steps they should be termed, when evidently not proportioned for convenience of access to the interior, but calculated rather with a view to the general effect of the whole structure.

"In the temples of Greece, we view architecture in its purest and most simple form: in the age of Titus we see that it had already reached the last period of complication and decline. To trace the connecting links is not the intention of this work, though perhaps, or rather certainly, the same causes operated throughout the chain; namely, the progress of society, and the changes of religion. The founders of cities invariably chose the highest ground for the Hiera of the deity; while, in the crowded lanes of the lower town, artificial means were requisite, to give to the temples of the imported gods that dignity which the Athenian, Eleusinian and Delphic structures acquired from their natural sites."

This in the original tables must be an error for vi.

MUSICAL NOTICE.

HAVING already experienced the most flattering testimonial of the public approbation of our plan, a rapidly increasing circulation, we feel desirous of making our exertions commensurate with the kindness of our friends by extending the objects of our miscellany. Considering the progress of music an important feature in the Fine Arts, it is our intention in future to give brief analytical reviews of such musical productions as we shall consider worthy of public notice, on the same independent principles we have adopted with regard to the other departments of the Fine Arts. We trust that this extension of our plan may prove acceptable to our readers, particularly to those of the fair sex, as it will present them with a weekly journal of all the musical novelties, under the form of Chit Chat Intelligence.

In the pursuit of this department, we shall not become. the advocates of any exclusive system or school of music Opera will of course be a principal feature in our new arwe entertain no prejudices on the subject. The Italian rangement, and we propose to offer some brief comments on the productions of the celebrated composer, who is the present director of that establishment, as well as on the comparative merits of the vocal performers.

We shall also take notice of the performances at such of our concerts and oratorios, as present any novelty or great superiority of talent. In short, we shall endeavour to make our columns a condensed gazette of the present state of music in England; and as our endeavours will ever be to promote the advancement of this delightful art, we hope sign, by favouring us, through the medium of our publishers, that professional gentlemen will harmonize with our dewith the inspection of their production.

DRAMA.

King's Theatre.-After a sufficient quantity of preparatory announcement and collateral puffing, Madame Pasta has re-appeared upon the boards of this theatre. Seven or eight years ago we recollect her as a very young, and very promising singer, but without any remarkable merit at the time. In Le Nozze di Figaro she was distinguished by the archness and vivacity with which she represented the part of the amorous little page, and her tasteful execution of the "An essential feature in the temples of Pompeii, as dis-music allotted to the part. But Madame Pasta was not tinguished from those of Greece, is to be observed in the so successful as to induce the public to augur any exceed

TEMPLES.

ing triumph from her future improvement, and when she quitted us there was no great regret for her loss. In Paris, however, she has since made a rapid and extensive stride into fame and favour. Golden opinions hang upon her toils, and she is generally rated as the first prima donna (Catalani always excepted) in Europe. The managers of our Italian Theatre have long been desirous of engaging her services, but in Paris the theatre is a government concern, and there has been a great deal of coquetting on the part of the administration des theatres before they would allow the transplantation of this lady to our scene. It is at length effected, and she made her first appearance in Otello on Saturday, and has repeated it since. It is impossible to deny the great merit, and the deserved success of Madame Pasta.

There is one respect in which the Desdemona of Madame Pasta commands the greatest praise: she is perfectly original in her style of singing and mode of acting. The last is no tenth transmission" of an old, worn out manner; but a lively, fresh, and faithful representation of natureat least of so much nature as can possibly be exhibited in the Italian Opera. Perhaps her action is somewhat too redundant, but the grace and elegance of all her movements more than compensate for their multiplicity. Her features are singularly well adapted to the stage. They are flexible, expressive, and pleasing; and her face altogether is what may be termed a fine theatrical face. The Italians would say that she sings con bocca ridente. Her voice is a mezzo soprano, inclining to the low: the lower tones are rather voiles. What we observed of Madame Pasta's acting, we may repeat of her singing: it is beautifully original. Her cadences, roulades, and all the graceful trickery of the art, are in a style peculiar and delightful. We do not recollect any one at all to be compared to her in these points. It is in the andante that she is particularly excellent. Nothing could be more affecting and simply beautiful than the air Deh calma, O ciel, in the last act: it was ardently encored. In the second act, Madame Pasta made a great impression by her tender and touching execution of that sad out-pouring of an afflicted heart, Se il padre m'abandona. If we had not been bound by our office to be hard-hearted, we should have been more deeply affected than it is fitting for us to confess. In short, Madame Pasta was completely successful, and promises to retrieve the declining fortunes of the Opera.

The larger theatres have been toiling away during the week, to amuse the holiday folks. The melodrames, and such pieces as most resemble melodrames, either in their nature, or the mode of their representation, have been liberally presented to the public. They have not, however, been remarkably successful. The "dumb shew and noise" has lost its attraction. Wherefore we will not again examine after our disquisition of last week. But the managers may rest assured, that a re-action has taken place in the general mind, and the old system will no longer do. Davis's Amphitheatre. - We cannot bear to call this house by any other title than "Astley's." That name is wrought into all our old associations, and must not be wrenched away by the rude authority of play-bills and proprietors. Having omitted to notice the performances here last week, we shall supply the deficiency now. There is a melodrama founded on the battle of Waterloo, which is worth seeing. The groupings of dying and dead in the opening scene which represents the night of the battle of Jemappe, are very picturesque and striking, and so is the concluding battle-scene. It is an extraordinary example of the perfection to which the art of stage management has arrived in this country. We were quite satisfied with the "view" of a battle, and have no desire to be present at one. The smell of villainous gunpowder is quite enough for us. The horses are as clever as the scene managers, and seem to be as "infinite in apprehension" as their riders; and in their " form and moving" still more

66 express and admirable." The dialogue part of the melodrama was almost as bad as any thing one could meet with at Covent Garden or Drury Lane. There was one particular in which we could not but admire the happy audacity of the author. He brings Bonaparte and the Duke of Wellington on the scene, to the great delight of the galleries, and the amazing discomfiture of the pit. Bonaparte is made to do very generous things, and utter very magnanimous sentiments, which the galleries applaud, and which the pit does not.

We have always observed that the former are Whigs, and the latter Tories. The reason of this it is difficult to conceive, but so it is. Bonaparte at Astley's does not exactly suit our ideal of that celebrated personage; but the representative of the famous Velauinton outstrips the original. In the one case, we have a "vision of our own;" in the other, the vision which we had has long since evanished. The whole thing, however, was, in one way or other, extremely gratifying.

TO THE

EDITOR OF THE SOMERSET HOUSE GAZETTE. SIR,

ONE of your correspondents having some time since asked for information relative to Dance the painter, I send you the following account from my MS. collections. Your's very truly.

J. C.

"Memoranda of the Arts, No. 2. "Sir Nathaniel Holland, R. A. historical painter, whose name originally was Dance, was the third son of Mr. Dance the city surveyor, who erected the Mansion House, and who died in 1768. He was also brother to the gentleman who succeeded his father in that situation, and the author of a series of etched portraits: and also to the late James Dance, who under the name of Lowe, performed as a comedian on the boards of old Drury. The present Sir Nathaniel Dance is the nephew of the architect of the city Mansion House; he, it will be remembered was knighted for his gallantry in beating a French vessel which had attempted to take that commanded by this venerable officer, then in the service of the honourable the East India Company.

The subject of this memoir was the pupil of Hayman, from whom it is said he imbibed a heavy manner of drawing and colouring, which all the advantages of an Italian education did not entirely eradicate. During his stay at Rome, he became acquainted with the late Angelica Kaufman, with whom he roamed over Italy, and for whom it was said he felt a tender passion; but the course of true love never did run smoothly; for the lady, smitten with the superior attractions of Sir Joshua Reynolds, failed to return his penchant with equal warmth. During the time he studied in Rome, he derived his chief support from making excursions to the sea ports to draw fortuitous portraits, and on his return to this country became the particular friend of Mr. and Mrs. Garrick, with whom and with the study of music he soon forgot his inexorable fair. Sir Nathaniel was more justly famed for his professional talents as a painter, than for the borrowed splendour of the immense wealth which he obtained by his marriage with the (Hampshire) Yorkshire Mrs. Dummer, whose good will he obtained while painting her portrait, whose late husband left his estates to his wife (who survived Sir N.) for her life, and the remainder to the late William Chamberlain, Esq. solicitor to the Treasury, whose son enjoyed the bequest on the demise of the widow Holland. Mr. Dance also became eligible to the title which his wife's estate commanded.

"This accession of fortune and rank it is said he ostentatiously displayed in endeavouring to purchase in order to distray all the pictures which he had formerly painted,

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