FINE ARTS.

CAPTAIN HEAD'S EASTERN AND EGYPTIAN SCENERY AND RUINS.

In this splendid book, beauty and ornament are made subservient to utility. The patriotic object of the writer is to prove with what ease a steam-communication with India by a voyage of two months' duration, may be opened up. Late events in Turkey must give a new impulse to this national project, for the furtherance of which Captain Head has furnished many important facts and details; these we are prevented from noticing at present with the fulness which a matter that so nearly affects the interests of the empire demands, and defer till another month. The object is too important to be neglected, or lightly dismissed. As a work of art merely, this volume has first-rate claims to attention. The views selected are of the most striking and magnificent description; and were we Rosycrucians, we might believe in some secret sympathy between the ruins of stately edifices of stone, and the mode of representing them adopted by Captain Head. Nothing can be more beautifully soft, free, distinct, and full of the spirit of antiquity and orientalism than these masterly sketches They are also among the most splendid specimens we have seen of lithographic engraving executed in this country.

VIEWS IN THE PYRENEES. No. 2.

THIS is among the finest of the works of art which embellish this fa voured period. Though it cannot vie with some of its rivals in cheapness, it equals the best of them in the beauty and spirit of the designs, and the excellence of Finden's engraving. The first picture, a bird's-eye view of the Valley of Grip, is a fine subject, well handled ; but the second, the Pic du Midi, is a scene perfectly unique in its singular sublimity. Barèges, Luz, and its Church, are the subjects of the other three pictures. The descriptions are well-written, and beautifully printed; and the work, altogether, one to feel proud of.

VIEWS OF THE LAKES IN THE NORTH OF ENGLAND. Tilt, London; Brown, Penrith; Cockburn, Carlisle.

THIS is a work to be put into immediate requisition, and packed into travelling portfolios, and the bottoms of imperials, though it will be quite as useful to travellers who

"Run the great circle, and are still at home."

This first part gives us Ulswater, and two views of the Derwent water. The notes, the historical and descriptive illustrations, viz. are as good as the text, though that is written in the best hand of Nutter, Glover, and Hoffland.

PORTRAITS OF THE PRINCIPAL FEMALE CHARACTERS in the WAVERLEY NOVELS. Part 5. Chapman and Hall, London.

IN no one of Scott's novels, perhaps, does the mind feel a greater interest in tracing the development of female character than in that which records the eventful history of Minna and Brenda; for no two of his heroines are its sympathies more vividly awakened, and none with

whose facial identity we should be more pleased to be familiar. Here, then, they are-Brenda, by the hand of Mr. Leslie, and Minna, fresh from the conception of Mr. Etty-(and, certainly, two creatures more personally unlike never yet sprang from a common origin.) The one, indeed, a fairy-like, laughing, gentle creature; the other, a darkeyed, dark-haired, dark-souled, gipsy-favoured woman. with a more than woman's form, seated in a rocky recess, pensively watching the flickering bar of moonlight thrown across the gloomy waste of waters below of the true brigand stamp, a regular bandit's bride. Yet is Minna a fine study, nevertheless; but the shadows are so fearfully black, there is not a tint of difference between her raven locks and the ebon wash plastered over her neck and shoulders, black as night itself. The effect generally, indeed, is marred by the violent transition of light and darkness. We terribly fear that Judith will be the ruin of Mr. Etty. PHOBE MAYFLOWER is a charming picture of youthful, bashful, innocent, beauty. Pity Miss Sharpe has garbed her in so charity-girl a suit. But MARGARET RAMSAY is our favourite; we think Mr. Boxall has been as happy in his conception as Mr. Robinson in his engraving of the portrait.

WAVERLEY PORTRAITS. Part 6.

MR. WRIGHT's beautiful conceit of LADY AUGUSTA (Castle Dangerous) would have upborne this number had all the other portraits been deadweights. Pensive, without melancholy; charming, without affectation; the face and figure of this pretty creature invite "a lingering contemplation." But Lady Augusta is in brilliant company. There are Mr. Parris's GREEN MANTLE (Redgauntlet) with her arched brow and archer eye, and Chalon's ALICE LEE (Woodstock) "the beautiful and highborn," clad as it were in study and devotion—both meet subjects for attentive survey. What, however, shall we say of Mr. Howard's WHITE LADY (Monastery?) She is quotationized as being

"Beautiful exceedingly."

Now we have the vanity to imagine that, whether from long and attentive study, or from an exquisitely nice intuitive perception, it matters not, it were difficult for beauty to remain in any shape or shade undetected by our penetration, be it "in face, in feature, or in form;" but we are constrained to confess that the beauty of the White Lady is a baffler. In our poor discernment, she seems a personage about as ill-favoured, melancholy, and badly built as one might have the misfortune to scrutinize; we may be wrong, no doubt we are, and we hope the world may think so; but another gaze on Lady Augusta. Darling creature!

LANDSCAPE ILLUSTRATIONS OF SCOTT.
Chapman and Hall,

Parts 15, 16, 17, and 18.
London.

THERE are two pretty views in No. 15, by Copley Fielding, (after sketches by the Marchioness of Stafford,) of the Hill of Hoy and Stromness-Pirate; and, in No. 16, one, the prettiest of all, St. Cuthbert's Old Church-Fortunes of Nigel. The other illustrations, Kenilworth Castle, Kirkwall, St. Magnus Cathedral, and Whitehall, are each of them good; but either nature or art has failed to invest the scenes with the same quantum of the picturesque which the former possesses. The portraits given in the present two Numbers are, Minna, Phoebe Mayflower,

and Margaret Ramsay. No. 17, if not the best of the whole series, is one of the very best at least. To the portraits of Brenda and Lady Augusta, (both attractive,) are added views of Heriot's Hospital, Castle Rushin, and Peel Castle, all extremely pleasing effective pictures, and extremely well executed. The White Lady and Green Mantle, flourish in No. 18, concerning whom our emotions are already expressed. There is a view of Liverpool, as it was in the olden time, by S. Austin, with which we are much pleased. Roberts gives a drawing of the Tower of London in 1670, and Prout of the city of Tours in France; we can hardly repress a slice of villany on the occasion,-the latter gentleman has for once tried his hand at a bit of "distance" and failed-When was it painted?

LANDSCAPE ILLUSTRATIONS OF LORD BYRON. Part 14.

MR. TURNER'S vignette of Parnassus, and the Castalian spring, is—he can paint nothing that is not-exquisite; the other, "the Field of Waterloo," is not so pleasing; but that is Nature's fault apparently, not Turner's. The portrait of Percy B. Shelley disappoints us; there is a wildness in the eye and the Byronized shirt collar, and a certain look of abstraction, which indeed are not very common, but we see nothing of that intellect, that richness of spirit, that fulness of soul, which made his name famous. Stanfield presents us with a fearful picture of the Dungeon of Chillon, the effect much heightened by the introduction of two captives; and with an animated and bustling view of the Rialto, a scene not absolutely sickening from repetition, because coming from him. Hoppner's well-known painting of Petrarch's house, very sweetly engraved, and a drawing by Purser of Diodati, the residence of Byron, full of sun and summer sleepiness, form the whole of Part 14, with which the subscribers will have some difficulty in finding fault.

MUSIC.

THE RED ROVER'S SONG. The words by Edmund Smith, Esq. The Music by the Chevalier Sigismund Neukomm. London: Goulding & Co. This is a proper song-bold, joyous, and characteristic. The poetry is full of the thoughts that breathe, and the words that burn. The reckless daring of the Rover is vented forth with singular force and animation:

The skies may frown, or, be they fair,

We little look, and less we care;

And gaily sail our track to keep,
Upon the proud and peerless deep.
The land we loathe, the sea we love,

For joys it hath, all joys above.

With such a theme before him, Neukomm has aroused the best energies of his genius. The music is truly excellent. Simplicity marks the invention and conduct of the melody; but the strain is heartfelt and inspiriting, and the accompaniment bounds along in a spirit congenial to the sentiments.

OLD KING TIME! The words by Edmund Smith, Esq. Composed by John Barnett. London: George & Manby.

Here is a work of nerve and masculine vigour; but it must bend the knee to "King Death." "King Time" aspires to belong to the class which Neukomm has

so powerfully called into existence-and of which "King Death" is the founder, and, if we mistake not, the finisher also. That latter song is like to be the Alpha and Omega of all such attempts.-Mors devorat omnia.

THE BUCCANEER'S SONG. The words by Edmund Smith, Esq. Composed by John Barnett. London: George & Manby.

We are glad to see Mr. Barnett adventuring beyond the beaten track of Troubadours and Serenaders. The Buccaneer's is a fine manly song, with excellent words, and

well adapted music. MEET ME 'NEATH the Linden TREE. A Song, written and composed by John Barnett. London: Goulding & Co.

Here we have Mr. Barnett both as poet and musician, and his appearance in both characters is reputable. The words are prettily strung together, and convey, if not original, at least pleasing thoughts, which fall softly upon the ear, as we listen to the melody that bears them along.

THAT LONELY GIRL. The poetry by Edmund Smith, Esq. Composed by J. A. Barnett. London: Goulding & Co.

This Ballad is not much to our taste. The air is commonplace, and the poet is in ecstatics about a "heavenly creature," the Chloe, we suppose, of some Billy Lackaday of Vauxhall.

THREE PROGRESSIVE RONDINOS FOR THE PIANO-FORTE. Composed and arranged by J. T. Surenne. Edinburgh: Robertson.

These are clever and agreeable pieces. The themes are selected from popular composers, and are wrought up with considerable taste, and knowledge of effect.

THE DRAMA.

COVENT-GARDEN has closed its doors against the drama-for ever or for how long none can say. Laporte has philosophically ratted, and left it and his Majesty's servants to perish together if they like; he betaking himself wholly to the King's Theatre, they-partly to the Olympic, partly to the Poor-house. Laporte has been terribly abused about the matter; but the Frenchman deserves no blame. Why should he lose his money for the sake of the English public? There is not one individual in all the public that would fling him a shilling in his need, without being secure of his shilling's worth in return. What call upon him have the public to continue performances by which he lost large sums nightly? None whatever: and he would have been a fool or a madman to do so. Divers dunderheads are pelting away at him fiercely enough for seeking to palm upon the public "foreign mummery for native talent," and talk large nonsense of similar value. Yet what is it after all but an affair of private trading? The lessors of Covent-Garden Theatre accepted Laporte as their tenant and, so they had their rental, it mattered little to them whether he were a Frenchman or a Caffre, or whether he got his bread by selling summer cabbages or pulling puppets. Laporte naturally flies to the cheapest market; and if he finds that the public will not buy his wares, he, like a prudent trader, shuts up shop, and looks out for a better neighbourhood and a better business elsewhere.

At Drury-Lane, German operas and French ballets reign exclusively triumphant, and "the authorities" seem to care no more for the English drama than their neighbours. Where then are we to look for the Drama? Alas, the day! it has fallen clean comatose. The majors have spurned it, the minors may not peril its production, the privates find small favour with the Lord High Chamberlain, and—the drama is departed. Shall we repine, shall we lament, shall we predict, shall we hope ?-wherefore? Why repine at a loss for which a capricious public careth not one bodle? Why lament a bereavement for which a fickle public feeleth not one pang? Why predict events for the nature of which a callous public hath a perfect indifference? Why hope a change for which a foolish, false-hearted, reckless, novelty-hunting, foreigner-fostering, shew-loving, taste-perverted public seeketh by no manner of means? Alas, poor Drama, nothing now is left us but the minors, and what can they? Burle:tas, VOL. III.NO. XV.

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melodrames, vaudevilles, interludes, extravaganzas, nonsenzas, and "pieces," to which even the authors can give no definable name, may flicker a while in their penny-candle brightness, and then be snuffed out; but the Drama-the poor dear, entranced Drama-the regular, the legitimate, the true, the English-is left for the resuscitating care of a coming generation.

Sheridan Knowles, the only living dramatic writer anybody knows of in this country who does write, produced his "Wife" to reclaim the people from the meretriciousness of their ways; and a beautiful creature she was! Those who saw her, saw her worth, for she was a choice production; but even she was deserted. The public would none of her, and then neglected her. The portals of Covent-Garden were consequently closed, and she sought sanctuary in the Olympic. Thither, also, went "the company," Covent-Garden company! And who are they?—the Diddears, and Irwins, and Mears, and Matthews, and a troop of nobodies that nobody ever knew. There are Ellen Tree, and Knowles, and Warde, and two or three more, who are identified with Covent-Garden certainly, and may claim companionship with certain illustrious names; but when we behold an array of personages glorying in the name of Pain, Heath, Henry, and so forth, of whom the world is in deepest ignorance, the inquiry naturally arises of what is the "Covent-Garden company" at present composed? Liston, Power, and divers others of the exalted are out of the question, for they occasionally ⚫ come forward to do the charitable, and that is the extent of their association; but We cannot help smiling at the "Covent-Garden company," and their attempt to fan into activity the English Drama. The fact is, the play-going folks have outlived their liking for it, it is no longer the fashion, and novelty is the order of the day-novelty at any price; for money, even in these alleged days of pauperism, is of small consideration.

While nine-tenths of our English performers are starving or starved, foreigners are flourishing. Paganini, who ought to be yelled off the stage of an English theatre, and whom no Englishman should listen to, is again amongst us; and, such is the supineness and folly of the English people, will again filch a few thousands from their pockets, no doubt. Report says that Pasta and Malibran are severally to receive two thousand guineas for their "season" here. We all know what Taglioni and Schroeder Devrient will "fetch" in money; and thus are thousands of mortal English guineas showered down upon foreigners, and about to be withdrawn from English circulation, without one fraction deducted for the purchase of a travelling passport for the remainder (My Lord Althorp, why do you not have an eye to this species of excursionary property?) and our own poor devils of artists going to the dogs, pennyless and unpitied.

Bunn has been successful in his tender for the sovereignty of Drury-Lane, and, if rumour is to be credited, of Covent-Garden. In the name of all that is staggering, what is he going to do? The people of an oppressed nation can hardly await with more feverish anxiety the appointment of a new king or an amended constitution, than do play-going folks in their anticipations of the doings of a new lessee under ordinary circumstances; but this is a fact so especial and so inconceivable, that wonderment becomes mute, and prognostication madness. Let us wait patiently.

The Covent-Garden Company are going on swimmingly at the Olympic ; and we do hope that the patronage they have hitherto experienced will be extended and continued. "The Wife" is a crutch of no mean support to them. It is very creditable to the feelings of some of the Stars that they have proffered and are giving their gratuitous assistance. That barren-hearted Baron, the Italian fiddler, should be made acquainted with the circumstance, were it only to excite his measureless astonishment. Laporte, at the King's Theatre, is rapidly retrieving his losses at Covent-Garden. He has got an excellent corps, at the head of whom is Pasta, the incomparable; she is carrying all before her. At the Haymarket, the productions of Buckstone, and the acting of Mr. Yates, Mr. Humby, Mrs. Glover, Dowton, Elton, and the author have proved highly attractive. Mr. Arnold provides at the Adelphi such a palatable bill of fare, as secures him the nightly attendance of plenty of visiters; he and our old friend Matthews, (who is once more "at home" to every body, and every body is accepting the invite of course,) alternating throughout the week. Miss Kelly has closed her first season at the Strand, and we are pleased indeed to hear it has proved a most suc cessful one. With the enterprise to attempt so hazardous an undertaking, she brought, what few women but herself could bring, the talent by which alone it could be accomplished. At Astley's the indecencies of the clown preclude the presence of women; and at Sadler's Wells the house is nightly filled from the cleverness of the pieces and the excellent acting of the performers. "The Wife" has been produced there in a style we could not have supposed a minor capable of doing.