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"Tis not her air, for sure in that
THE POWER OF WINE.
wine! above all earthly things,
The heart enrich'd nire keenly burns;
VARIETIES. An old woman, who had been sacrificing ANSWER TO CONUNDRUMS. with a neighbour very liberally to Bacchus, in returning to her home, a little below
Q. Why is a washer-woman like a church Greenock, fell fast asleep within the water
bell ?-A. Because she wrings. mark. Feeling the water, some hours
Q. Why are man and wife like two afterwards, on the flowing of the tide, fre- large rivers in Scotland.-A. Because quently washing over her mouth, and con
they have been connected. So is the Forth.
with the Clyde. ceiving from the taste, that her neighbour,
Q. Why is lemon juice liko a good say with whom she supposed she was still in company, tras adulterating her drink, she
ing.--A. Because it has been expressed. exelaimed, with some acrimony and indignation, .No! no! curse me if I do ; I shall
EPITAPH ON NEIL GOW. not taste another drop, if you change the Gow and time are even now; liquor upon me.'
Gow beat time; now time's beat Gow. NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. Extract from my Journal, and the Sailor's Journal, are under consideration We advise R. M. to keep his verses until Valentine's day, they may then be useful. Ainicus Virtutis will appear soon. The Demon of the Storm cannot find a resting place ; Poverty, by the same author, will, The communication from Maiden t all in our next. Vinter is received. We do not like to meddle with J. A. C's letter. Letter to Miss Nancy Crabb in our next.
We are of opinion that our correction, in Miss Crabb's letter, was requisite to make sense. We advise the lady to compare the original with our page, and she will find us right.
Atlas, we are afraid, wants strength to bear his burthen. We never see the name, but we think of, him who bore the heavens on his shoulders. We believe he will find his own head as much as be can move under.
We thank our correspondent for the sum he sent us to defray future postages. We do uot wish to pocket any of it We would like to know to whom we are indebted, for fear of imposition.
We will treat our readers to Pies and Porter next week.
Nemo's letters we never received. If his baits are good we will not readily disgörge them. We wilt be glad to hear from him in prostor verse..
The fate of Glasgow will be decided next weck.
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Sold also by Mr. Grithin, l'ublic Library, Hutcheson Street; at the Shops of the Principal Booksellers Glasgow. Also of the following Booksellers, John Hislop, (Frecnock; Jobu Dick, Ayr; Thomas Dick, Paisley; Robert Mathie, Kilnvarnock; Malcolm Currie, Port. Glasgow; D. Conde, Rothesay; James Thomson, Hamilton ; and M. Dick, Irvine; for ready money only,
a speaker, for the purpose of reciting ON THE
or acting a story. When the drama ANCIENT THEATRE. assumed its regular form, these songs
were still retained, and made an inConcluded.
strument of introducing some of the The Chorus is the last, and most finest passages in the ancient plays. remarkable peculiarity of the ancient The form of the theatre itself detheatres. This was a body of men or serves some attention. In Rome women, supposed to be spectators of there were two kinds, the simple what was transacting; and who inter- theatre, and the amphitheatre : the mixed, from time to time, with the one of a semi-circular, the other of speeches of the actors, their own re- an oval shape, both were uncovered marks (which were chaunted in verse) at top; though the rays of the sun on the conduct of the characters. were generally excluded from the auHorace tells us, that it was the duty diences by a covering of canvas. of the Chorus, to forward, in some There were three rows of boxes for measure, the plot, to be favourable to the different orders of the people ; the good, restrain the unruly, praise (though the number was less in temperance, and pray to the gods, Greece, on account of the constitu that fortune should desert the proud, tion being more democratic, and not and return to the humble, &c.* In admitting of such a numerous division comedy, the remarks of the Chorus, of the citizens ;) and their general size upon particular characters, arose to may be conjectured, when it is stated, such a pitch of severity, that it was, that some of them were capable of at last, thought necessary to abolish containing eighty thousand spectators. it as offensive. It is said, that the The scene, that necessary decoration cause of its introduction was, that of a theatre, was at one end of the during the festival of Bacchus, the building, extending from side to side, songs which were sung in his honour and was, I believe, almost, if not altowere broken into distinct parts, be- gether immoveable. tween each of which was introduced From this general and imperfect
Art. Poet. 189.
account of the ancient dramatic re-on the spot where the scenes were presentes dans of the difference which the open air—that these would hear
be able to form transacting, whether in a house, or in some subsists between it and our own. the phot—stratagems laid—and crimes The iminense size of the theatres resolved uponyet take no part in the stateliness which the Cothurnus what was passing before them, farther added to the actors, and the beautiful than to break out, at times, into moral music and poetry, which sometimes reflexions—is a conception, which burst from the band of the Clwrus, does not appear to add much to the must have added to the native digrity reality of the scene. Besides, if their of the drama, an air of grandeur to office was merely to express and apply which we cannot aspire. In this, the advices and cautions, which natherefore, the ancients probably sur-turally arose from the conduct and sipassed us ; yet, we think, we can dis-tuation of the characters, might this cover, attending them, some disad- not have been left to the minds of the Vantages' which do not attach to the spectators ? confident, that if nature
were poetically and truly represented, 1. The Persona, or mask, and the they would have been overwhelmed Cothurnus; or boot, with which the with the feelings and 'sentimenits inactors appeared, must have had the tended to be produced. effect of taking away all the pleasure 3. The strict unity of action, both
which might be derived from the vivid in time and place, which was faithfally and true representation of the feelings preserved by the ancients, seems to
on the countenance ;' and from the be another disadvantage. This they natural and easy gestures of the body. were obliged to do, by the presence True, indeed, the great comparative of the Chorus--the difficulty of madistance, at which the actor stood naging their scenery, and perhaps, by from the body of his audience, might their taste. It has become a question, have prevented them from distinguish- in latter times, whether our own, or ing the play of his features, even had the Grecian mode, is more according he been unmasked: yet this only te nature ?
The truth secmis to be, gives additional force to our objec- that neither of them have this advantion ; and we must conclude, that the tage. If it is unnatural, that the 1 Romans were deprived of a pleasure, scene should be laid, now in this - the extest of which those only can country, and again in that, it surely is
appreciate, who have witnessed —how, also unnatural, that' a great many by the glance of a Kean, the senti- events should not only be crowded ments, even of a Shakespeare, are into a small space of time, (which is heightened and enforced.
the case with both modes,) but that 2. Though we readily admit the all these should happen upon one semany benefits which literature has lect spot. Who can believe, that one derived from the beautiful effusions, set of actors will regularly succeed to which the dramatist delighted to put another—that each will luckily happen into the months of the Chorus ; yet to stop and discourse in the same we are constrained to acknowledge, place --hatch their plots—and accomthat we consider its introduction on plish their designs, and do all this in the stage, as both unnatural and un- the presence of the Chorus ?. An necessary. To suppose that a band example of a play in our own lanof spectators would always be placed Iguage, modelled upon the ancient
drama, may make our meaning intelļi
171 gible to English readers. Addison,
To the Editor of tủe Helange.se in his Cato, makes counsels be held
':!? -stratagems be resolved on -skir- THE BRIDAL OF DEATHI mishes and murders take place --his
A THUR STORY.st. hero make a long and learned oration
Elizabeth M--and finally, the çatastrophe be de- prettiest girls in the middle ward of La
was one of the neloped, in the great hall of Cato's narksluire, and possessed a sweetness of house-a succession of events, in temper which made her universally loved. such a place, as impossible to be Her father was a gentleman of some pro- credited, as the wildest and most im- perty—she was the only relict of his family, probable fiction. In fact, there does and consequently drew to herself all his
affection. Indeed, she may be said to not appear to be any great necessity have been the only human being he tared for the preservation of the unities. any thing about; for he had a sullen, moIt is impossible that the most credu- rose temper, which repelled intimacy, and lous audience can have more than a
drove almost every ac
nce from his
house. But the sable locks, lovely coma momentary feeling of belief, in the plexion, and elegant eyes of Elizabeth, reality of the scenes before them. It overcame the obstacles which his sulten is not as if we ourselves were engaged, disposition offered to visitors. As she we come merely as spectators and entered on her fifteenth year, his house what is necessary to interest ? an ac
began to be more frequented, his visitors
more complaisant; and even those who quaintance with the characters, and a
were little likely to stoop to his caprice, connexion in the plot. I venture became wonderfully accommodating. to affirm, that our minds are not di- In short, the house of Mr. Masrected to the probability, or improba- sumed quite a different air-there was bility of being now in this place, and something like sociality in it. The laird
himself relishing the flattery of the young the next half hour in another : we men, stroothed over bis ruggedness, and give our whole attention to the cir- every one who knew him began to admit
, cumstances and the acting ; and if that he was a better man than he seemed these be interesting and according to to be, if he was only humoured a little. I nature, we must be affected, as far as she was certainly a lovely girl-none of
remember of seeing Elizabeth at this time; fiction can affect us.
your quiet prime sentimental damsels, but # In general, if the ancient drama* a brisk, rompish, hearty creatures full of · possessed more dignity and state, and mirth and animal spirits, A smile seemperhaps, more probability in the plot ed to repose naturally upon her countenmaurs, on the other hand, displays beneath full-atched, and graceful eye
shining more, vigour, more freedom, more na- brows, sparkled with life and intelligence. :: ture in the particular acts. The Her hair, of the deepest black, hung gracegenius of Shakespeare bas enabled fully, in ringlets, over her temples; and us to surpass those who are our mas- her complexion possessed that beautiful, ters in all the other polite arts, and warm, Italian hue, which glows in the pic
tures of Titian. But, if her tempor was has given a distinct character to our brisk and airy, she inherited, atthe sametime, national school,
a depth of character, which, at first sight, no
The learned reader will observe, that the preceding account is confined exclusively to the Roman stage, and that no mention has been made of the Mimus, or Pantot" trithe, another kind of ancient plays.
gne could imagine her to possess. When athema if she saw him mores I
This con any situation which called it forth, she mand went like lightning to her heart. It exbibited the workings of a retined feeling, was the first time slie had met with ca and could throw off the manners of a fan- lainity« Her fabric of bliss fell in an in ciful girl, to assume those of an intelligent stant to the ground. Her visions of hapwoman. I have seen her weep at a tale of piness floated away, like a summer cloud, distress, I have known her enter the and she felt herself a pilgrim in the midst huts of woe to relieve the needy. I of dispair. have heard her name re-echoed aflection- Immediately on this interruption, Wilately, fitty times, by the poor. In short, liam's destiny led him to Jamaica, to look to use the words of our divine Shakespeare, after his afinirs, which had been unfortu.
She had a heart for pity, and a hand nately inpeired by some misfortunes on ppen as day for heaven-born charity.' that island. But ere he departed, perhapa
No wonder the laird's house began to for ever, be met with Elizabeth on the be frequented more than usual : no won- banks of the Aven. By the borders of der that the youngsters were contented to that lovely stream, in the evening of a coax him--to laugh at his witless jokes, summer day, they met together. Grief and put up with bis bad humour. But was depicted in each countenance, They of the suitors of Elizabeth, there was one looked on each other silently, for the ful, on whom alone her affections fixed. Wilness of their hearts denied them utterance, liam , indeed, was a noble fellow, At last the feelings of Elizabeth, found not that he was merely handsome in his vent in a flood of tears. She sobbed and appearance, and elegant in his manners- fell into the arms of her lover. The winged, but he possessed a franknessman ingenu- hours flew by—the moon was up-the ousness, and, at the same time, a modesty, voice of the songsters had ceased along the wbich brightened lis, other qualifications, Aven, and the river poured its silver tide and constituted him, in the strictest sense at their feet, with a melancholy murmur. of the word, a gentleman. Elizabeth had At last thic hour of separation came.mi scarcely attained her eighteenth year, when Elizabeth,' said William, 'we part now, she fell deeply in love with this young man, and we may never meet again. The broad and he was about four years older. But Atlantic must soon roll between us, but she knew laird's dispositionshe knew can its waves washi dut our mutual ree that with him money was every thing, and membrances, or tear our soul asupder? personal merit nothing; and felt convinced A flood of tears, which glanced in the that his everlasțing displeasure would at- beams of the moon, was her only answers, tend any union, withe However, No,' he continned, • I can see that the she could not root out the passion which vows which are graven on your heart, Elie had taken ground in her soul-nør quench zabeth, cannot be effaeed that the words the Promethean fire which burned within you have uttered in affection, shall never i it por unelaşp, the stems of affection which be retracted that your soul, pure and clung around her heart.,, By a sacred constant, shall cling to mine, But ere, we sympathy, she felt that her own happiness part wear this ring for my sake :, wben. centered in him. At the same time, shie you look upon it, think that you are my tried to disguise this from the laird, by an affianced bride-my guardian angel-my, affected coldness to L- and by be best beloved. 0! Elizabeth, when you stowing all her vivacity, wit and smiles, look upon it, Think on me, and if ever the upon her more wealthy, and, consequently messenger of death arrests your joy, and with the the laird, more favoured lovers, says, William is no more,' wear it next But love cannot be concealed. The sigh your heart as the token of one who, loyed which stole from her bosom ; the Aush you better than life.', No William,' said that suffused her cheek; the swimming she, returning him the ring, which he had softness of her eyes, as they glided almost put upon her finger, kuep that pledge till unconsciously on her lover; the confusion, another time. The day, may yet come and eloquent silence which ensued, on a when you will be able to bestow it under mutual glance-spoke volumes. By these happier auspices, when our countenances tokens, the laird discovered that his daugh- slali shine with smiles, instead of being dar, ter loved L His sullen temper re- kened with tears, and when you may call
me vived, He forbade him his bouse, and something else than your betrothed bride threatened Elizabeth with his perpetual an- Keep it
, William, till fhat happy day, when