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an answer to the most illiberal and unfounded in, speaking of the sounding of trumpets, assertions in Mr. Malone's Inquiry: he is he had to exclaim: “ Let them bellow therefore induced to request that the play of on!” which words were uttered with such a · Vortigern may be heard with that candor that nasal and tin-kettle twang, that no muscles has ever distinguished a British audience.' save those of adamant [sic] could have re
John Philip Kemble, who was then stage- sisted the powerful incentive to laughter." manager at ury Lane, and had had the So far the Irelands and their adherents hero's part in the tragedy assigned to him, were scotched but not slain. Malone's Insaw at a glance that such rubbish as com- vestigation yas at length published, and was poses' Vortigern could never have emanated answered by George Chalmers, first in his from the mind of Shakspeare, even in his Apology for the Believers, and next in his baby-hood, and passed that sentence upon it Supplemental Apology, wherein he refuted, which he felt the public ought, and did after- to young Ireland's satisfaction, every position wards most effectually pronounce. He there- laid down by Malone. After the avowal of fore did his best to procure its representation the forgery, the author of Vortigern foron the first, instead of the second, of April warded two very humble letters to Mr. Chal1796, " in order to pass upon the audience mers, who, maintaining a prudent silence, the compliment of fools all.” Foiled in this never answered them. by the interposition of old Ireland and Mr.
This avowal was made from a stroke of Sheridan, Kemble, however, so managed that conscience. The forgery had been charged the farce of My Grandmother should follow upon the elder Ireland instead of the younger. the tragedy,“ intending that all the bear- It was argued that the latter's youth-he was ings of that production should be applied by but nineteen-precluding all possibility of the audience to the subject of the Shaks- the papers being his, the whole must have pearian papers.” He is also charged by the been fabricated by his father, who had made younger Ireland with having preconcerted a
the son the vehicle of introducing them to signal · when the opponents of the papers
the public. It seems, however, that the were to manifest their disapprobation. For former was a total stranger to every prothis purpose, the following line in' the fifth ceeding in the composition of the papers ; act was selected :
and George Stephens, who had been also “ And when this solemn mockery is o’er.”
suspected of participation in the fraud, is However this may be, no sooner had he
stated by Ireland to have been equally innoarrived at this line, which he delivered in an
cent. Urged by the imperious motive of exceedingly pointed manner, than “ deafen
rescuing his father's character from unmerited ing clamor reigned throughout one of the obloquy, he came forward with the truth, most crowded houses ever recollected in the having first abandoned the paternal roof, and atrical history, which lasted several minutes. relinquished a profession for which he was Upon a hearing being at length obtained,
« With the wide world before studying
” instead of taking up the following line of me,” he says, “ and a host of most implaca
, the speech in rotation, Mr. Kemble reiter
ble enemies at my back, ere my twentieth ated the above line with an expression the of life, without a guide to direct my steps, or
the eventful pilgrimage most pointedly sarcastic and acrimonious it
any means of existence save those which is possible to conceive. Added to this, the might result from my own industry and perlate Mr. Dignum was purposely. placed by severance.
Of his after career we know Mr. Kemble in a subordinate part where- nothing.
ETIQUETTE IN AFRICA.—“We had an op- | Makololo, who are accustomed to the most free portunity of observing that our guides had and easy manners, held out handsful of what much more etiquette than any of the tribes fur- they had cooked to any of the Balouda near; ther South. They gave us food, but would not but they refused to taste. They are very puncpartake of it when we had cooked it; nor would tilious in their manners to each other. Each they eat their own food in our presence. When but has its own fire, and when it goes ont they it was cooked they retired into a thicket, and ate make it afresh for themselves, rather than take their porridge; then all stood up and clapped it from a neighbor.”—Livingstone's Missionary their hands, and praised Intemese for it. The' Travels in South Africa.
From The Atheneum.
called “ Claudie," and the scene of the play CHARLES READE'S “ CLOUDS AND SUN- was laid in Berri. A small paraphrase of it, SHINE."
called “The Village Tale," (reputed at the COPYRIGHT is a fine thing, and the “re- time to be by Mr. C. Reade,) was produced served right of reproduction and translation” at Easter 1852 at "Punch's Playhouse," as is a protection which it is so pleasant to have duly noticed in your journal [Athen. No. lived to see wrung by Literature out of Law, 1277]. The paraphrase passed and made no that naturally enough men of letters are de- sign. Against these pre-pubļications it has. sirous to reconcile theory with practice.- now become necessary to protect “ Clouds Copywright, I assume, lies in a name on the and Sunshine," the third story in Mr. Reade's title-page, and in the magical words printed recent book,-since it is merely his “ Village betwist brackets beneath. If I am wrong, I Tale” written over again. Oxfordshire, a mere suckling of an author, am evidently about two miles from the Thames, and on wrong in good company; but I wish to be the skirts of the beech forest that lies bequite sure. To give you the example fresh tween Wallingford and Henley,” corresin my mind.
ponds exactly with“ La Métairie des BosMr. C. Reade, as your readers .well know, sons” of the French drama. This is not has lately published a small collection of all
. · Not merely has dame Sand anticismall tales (duly protected on its title-page). pated Mr. Reade's incidents one by one, but The book is entitled, “ The Course of True she has presented the very dialogue of his Love never did run smooth.” That it should novelized drama with a literal hardihood have been necessary for this English author which cannot be too distinctly exposed. to appeal to Law is a circunstance that will Here, by way of proof, is a scene following not surprise any one conversant with modern the farmer's settlement with the reapers, French drama. As the ancients stole nearly where the old man and the girl (in Oxfordall their best things from the moderns, so the shire Daddy Patrick and Rachael
, in Berri French dramatists of a dozen years ago ap- Rémi and Claudie) are paid as one for their pear to have stolen the good things of Eng-joint labor. Robert is the young farmer in lish authors of the present year. Mr. Reade England, Sylvain in France.is more than usually unlucky in having had
The English Tale. The French Drama. his subjects laid hold of by other writers. A few minutes later
CLAUDIE and SYLVAIN. How hard it is on him, for instance, that his Rachael came to the
Claudie approaches the tale of “Art” in this very
well, and began to draw volume, (which
a bucket of water. This well to draw water tale is a second edition of a small translated well worked in the fol- Sylvain has crossed to
lowing manner : A drama, played under two titles in two Eng- Chain and rope were
the right, taken his
fork, and is going out, lish theatres,) should have been thought- passed over a cylinder,
when he sees the pain lessly forestalled by a certain old “ Tiridate” and two buckets were that it gives Claudie to
attached to the several raise the bucket. on the opposite side of the water! But ends of the rope, so that S. How you are still Art” is not the only article to be cared for the empty bucket de- working, Claudie, inMr. Reade has been much complimented on
scending, helped in some stead of resting! Our
slight degree the full the grace and mastery and color shown in bucket to mount. This selves out; they don't his “ Clouds and Sunshine,” If one is ever cylinder was turned by reap. After a month's
an iron handle. The labor, 'tis to finish your.. proud and jealous of one's offspring it is well was a hundred feet self up utterly. when they are appreciated and praised by deep. Rachael drew C. (Sorrowful, but others. What resentment then must Mr. the bucket up easily calm, speaking 'in
enough until the last sweet, but firm voice.) Reade not feel against Madame Sand, who thirty feet; and then she Don't trouble yourself had the audacity, as your readers shall see, found it hard work. She about me, Master Syl
had both hands on the vain. · to use the whole of Mr. Reade's story <sce- iron handle, and was
S. (Laying, by his nery, dialogue, and characters in a work of panting a little like a fork, and going to the hers six years ago !
tender fawn, when a well, where he stops the It was in the month of January,in the year said in her ear, " Let go,
deep but gentle: voice bucket, and empties its
contents into a pail, which 1851, that a play by Madame Sand (whether Rachael;" and the hand is near the well.) Ex
cuse me, I do trouble dramatized or not from one of her novels, let dle was taken out of her
hand by Robert Ha- myself about you; others say,) was produced at the Porte Saint- thorn. “ Never mind when a man's heart is in Martin Theatre in Paris. The play was me, Master Robert," the right place there's DCCX LIVING AGE.
women never tire them
said Rachael, giving way no helping seeing yonr | admired Mr. Charles Reade: we have held reluctantly. Always good will, and how hard him to be a powerful, and above all an origiat some hard work or
you work. other," said he: you * * * She does not nal writer, a man not cut after the common will not be easy till you hear me! She goes on pattern, but made after a fashion of his own, kill yourself." And with as if she would not hear this he whirled the han- me! How old are you, unique, artistic, with no commonplace outdle round like light- Claudie?
lines, no mild conventional prettinesses. ning with one hand, and C. Twenty-two.
Hitherto we have treated all accusation of the bucket came up in S. And is this the a few moments. He first time you have been plagiarism against him with scorn, as the idle then filled a pitcher for reaping in this way? invention of envious rivals. When we were her, which she took up, C. I'is the third year, told that “ It is Never too Late to Mend” and was about to go into S. You must be in the house with it. great want.
was only a blue-book turned into a novel, we Stay one minute, Ra- C, True enough. chael," "-"Yes, Master
replied, “ Aye: but how splendid the transRobert."_" How old are S. Do you live far formation !" When we heard of “ White you?" Robert blushed from here?
Lies” being a double plagiarism from two after he had put this C. More than question: but he was leagues off, I think.
French authors, we scouted the notion, and alobliged to say some
most refused to hear evidence. Like Louis thing, and he did not well know how to be
Quatorze, when he was told that Moliere stole gin. —“Twenty-two,"
his comedies, he said to his detractors, "Go was Rachael's answer.
you and steal as good.” But we were wrong, -"Don't go just yet. Is this your first year's
deplorably in the wrong-alas, that it should reaping? “No, the
be so ! Mr. Charles Reade's delinquency has third.'_“You must be
been proved in a manner to which not even very poor, I am afraid.” “Very poor · indeed,
his most earnest admirers can refuse assent.. Master Robert."-"Dó
We are bound to declare, after a careful you live far from here?". -"Don't you remem
comparison, that the tale “Clouds and Sunber I told you I came
shine” is taken from the play " Claudie,” not twenty miles from
only as regards the incidents and characters, here?" -And so Madame Sand has had the assur
but even the very dialogues. The impudence
of plagiarism can no farther go. The charance to go on scene after scene and page
acters tally exactly. ter page, as any one curious.may satisfy him
CLOUDS AND SUN- CLAUDIE. By George self by comparing Mr. Reade's Oxfordshire
Sand. “ Cloud” with her Berrichon“ Claudie." By Mr. Charles Reade. Now, are we or are we not in a state of alli- Corporal Patrick, Remy, an old soldier ance betwixt England and France P-Are soldier” who had.''seen and reaper-an octogen
arian. we, or are we not, to be protected against Rachel, his daughter, Claudie, his grandour piratical French predecessors ?--that is who is “twenty-two." daughter, 21 years old.
Farmer what I want to know—that is my reason for “ Farms Mrs. Mayfield's Grande-Rose), a peasant
Hathorn.- Fauveau (farmer to writing to you—under the protection of laws acres upon some friendly in easy circumstances. more stringent than the laws of honor ? Till agreement."
Mrs. Hathorn, his Mère Fauveau, his these things can be answered—till these wife.
wife. doubts can be set at rest, till Madame Robert Hathorn, his Sylvain, his son, 25 Sand's " Claudie " be prohibited at home and abroad, what tale-teller will venture to pub- Richard Hickman, "a Denis Ronciat, a danlish? what publisher to buy P-I ask, having my
dashing young dified peasant, 30 years fellow.”
old. myself on hand a “ Battle of Gentlewo
Rose Mayfield, La Grandle Rose, a rich men,” the scene of which is laid in Hamp- young widow, fresh and countrywoman, proprio
free.' : shire during the Civil War; also a story of
tor of the farm, a fine
woman, 25 to 30 years genteel Belgravian life, called “ Half-and-half
old. Fashionables,” shall I not protect these sto- So much for the characters: the resemries against MM. Scribe and Dumas the blance is certainly very startling; but still younger, if I find that they have written more so that between the incidents of the something of the kind before P G.
story and the dialogue introduced. In addiFrom The Critic.
tion to the specimen given by the Athendum WE frankly confess that hitherto we have we give the following:
CHARLES READE. GEORGE SAND,
GEORGE SAND. “Let me see,” said Faureau.
And Robert came out and Mere Fauveau.Hathorn, "What are what do you ask for went to Rachel's side of When he called to you to have ?" that?
the waggon, but she Claudie for the last time, "Count yourself,” re- Remy. Count your- turned her head away. and she would not even plied Patrick ; 'you self; you know well “ Won't you speak to turn her head towards know what you give the what you give the me, Rachel?” said Ro- him, he said, Very others." others.
bert. Rachel turned well!" and he threw " What I give the Fauveau. What I give her head away and was himself under the others! but you can't the others; aye! but silent.
Waggon that he might have done the work.”- you two have not done “Very well,” said be crushed. Ask the work of
Robert quietly, 'very Thomas what he said “Not of two; no, we Remy. The work of quietly.
when he lifted him up don't ask the wages of two; therefore we don't “Go on!” cried old in spite of himself two." ask you to pay us as Hathorn.
What are you doing two.
The next moment there, master? Will “Of course you do- Fauveau. Diache! I there
fearful you displease the good n't.” suppose you don't ask
scream among the wo- God?" Ask Madame that.
men, and Robert was Rose, who said to him: " Where's the disRemy (animated), seen down among the
“ What are you doing pute," said the old sol- Well! What then! horses' feet, and the there, Sylvain? Do dier, angrily; "here are Where do you seek a carter was forcing them you wish to kill your two that ask the wages dispute? Here are we back.
mother?" You called of one; is that hard upon two who ask you the (Mrs. Hathorn.) out to Thomas “Go on you?"
pay of one, and do
" What did Thomas say go on!”. Sylvain find that unjust? who dragged him up said that his foot slipped * There is no dispute, Sylvain. No. There's from the horses' feet? ' as he turned round, and old man,” said Robert no dispute. Twenty- “I don't know," said made as if he would steadily. "Father, five times fifty sous old Hathorn, half sulki- smile at me. Ah! what twenty-five times five make exactly sixty-two ly, half trembling: a sipile, husband ! If shillings is six pound francs and sixty cen- " He said, “That is you had seen it, as I five; that is what you times.
flying in the face of saw it, you would not owe them.”
Heaven, young master.' sleep this night. Those who have read “ Clouds and Sun- What did Rose Mayfield shine” will remember the natural simplicity next minute?
say, as she passed him
" Would of the meeting between Rachel and her you kill your mother, seducer Hickman. No tragedy-queen act our hearts ?” You cried
Robert, and break ali ing, but quiet, simple, suppressed pain. out 'Go on, go on!' Well, let them judge to whom that is due.
Robert said his foot had
slipped, and made as CHARLES READE. GEORGE SAND. though he would smile (Hickman.) . . "be- Denis. I can assist at me. Ah! what a cause I could assist you you.
smile, John! If you had 100 may be."
been as near it as I
was, "And what right have Claudie (proudly.) you wouldn't sleep this you to assist me now?” Where did you get the night.'
right to assist
me, Denis Having thus stated the case as it stands
Denis ... how much against Mr. Reade, whilst we admit that his vide for him."
do you want for- conduct is all the more inexcusable because * For whom?” cried Claudie. For whom? he is too wealthy a man in a mental point Rachet wildly,
Denis. For ELE IS DEAD!"
Claudie. For whom? of view) to need such expedients, it should "Dead?”
When he is dead! in fairness be remembered that these tales "Dead!"
Denis. Dead! were written some years ago, before Mr. "Don't say so, Rachel; don't say so."
Reade had attained the reputation which he "He is dead!”
now enjoys. It is possible that, if he himself
had been consulted, he would have approved But Mr. Reade is occasionally more ingeni- of neither the issue of the volume nor the ous than this in making use of Madame hyperbolical strain in which it was announced, Dudevant's hints. There is the scene where and when we remember that a serious differRobert Hathorn attempts suicide by throwing ence of opinion has lately occurred between himself under the waggon-wheels. În Claudie him and the publisher, even to the extent of this is related and not represented; but Mr. appealing to the Court of Chancery for a Reade, in putting it in action, follows the remedy, we must say that the whole affair
looks very much like vengeance on the part narrative with wonderful accuracy.
of the latter.
From Punch. Edwin. Though, from her radiant bow no
Swarthy Demon. “Mend your kettles !” his Oxford Prize Poem. The Interlocutors are
Edwin. Though sad and silent is the ancient
Demon with Skewers. « Cat's me-e-et!'
Edwin. There is a spell that none can chase
Demon with Organ. Poor Dog Tray."
Edwin. There is a charm whose power must
Demon with rushes. « Chairs to mend!"
Edwin. And still unbanished falters on the Black Demon.
Demon with Can.
“Any Beer!" At thoughts of every joy departed,
Edwin. Still Pan and Syrinx wander through
She Demon. “Shavings for your
The spot, God visited, is sacred
ground, Edwin. And weave long grasses into lovers and echo answers knots,
Second Demon with Organ. “Bobbing ail And wish the spell had power to silence
around." Demon in Apron.
Edwin. Ay, and for ever, while this planet Edwin. What varied dreams the vagrant
To its sphere music
· Demon with Fish. “Mackerel or Soles !” Ragged Old Demon.
“ Matches !”
Edwin. While crushed Enceladus in torment
Beneath his Etna, shrieking
Little Demon. Stones, hearthstones!
Third Demon with Organ. “O, 'tis hard to
give the hand.” Edwin. Garments of which the fairies might
Edwin. While as the cygnet nobly walks the make habits,
So moves on earth the fair
Fourth Demon with Organ. "Ratcatcher's
Edwin. And the Acropolis reveals to man
" Onions !
Fifth Demon with Organ. “My Mary Ann.” Edwin. And prompted glowing utterances,
Edwin. So long the Presence, yes, the Mens to their's kin
inspired both Dirty Demon. “ Hareskin ! hareskin!” Sixth Demon · with Organ. “Vilikins and Edwin. In thoughts so bright the aching
Dinah." sense they blind,
Edwin. Shall breathe o'er every land whereIn their own lustrous langor
soe'er the eye shoots
Or ocean plays
“ The Overture to Freis. Six dirty German
(Edwin goes mad.)