The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1819-11-13 00:00:00

THE FEVER AND THE THEATRE

Lord CASTLEREAGH lire issued car& of invite-
Lion to a numerous party of Members of Parliament,
to a valid d,i,urr on the 22J inst., et his residence
au St. James's-Norte.
The apemen/ of the French Legislative Chambers
is postponed till the 29th of ibis mouth. in copses
quessre, it is thought, of the KING'S indisposition.
The French loud* hove been dechigiug for some
days past, aud the fall embus a fortisiglit is very
'warty e per rem. By she letters of Mondays the
price is quoted 69. 70. with 21. 95 for the rate of
exchange. Our 111111111 fell 11 per cent. below the
first price of the morning, we the report of the
ilbess of the Kum of Faascs. but subsequeutly
recovered, stud lett of t nearly as tiny begau.

AT NEW YORK.
...ra

Extract from a private letter, dated New Yorki
October 9. 1819 :
" I presume ere this reaches its destination you
have heard of the calamity that has befallen this
city, • visitati,.n of the yellow fever, in conse.
quence of which the managers have been under the
necessity uf closing the Theatre for near three
week,. The lower parts of the town are entirely
evacuated, and the greater part of the inhabitants
and offices has been removed to the upper part of
Broa;way and Greenwich. ties great was the con•
sternation a fortnight since, the whole city had the
appearance of a place besieged, carts, goods, mer.
chandler, and people, moving in every direction.
I am happy, however, to are the alarm subsiding
daily. families returning to their deserted homes,
and New York once more resuming its usual
tranquil aspect.
" The theatre re-opened last Wednesday night.
Mr. and Mrs. BA RTI.EY are announced for Monday
next.. Wat. Lace was one of the company previous
to the close ; he (lid not finish his engagement, but
proceeded on to Norfolk. Mr. BARNES and his iu.
serrating wife, Mrs. BARNES. are great favourites;
their professional talents sod private worth entit?e
them to the most liberal patronage. Mr. and Mr.
Baown are engaged for the ensuing season at Ow
Boston theatre; they commence there on the 11th
of this mouth. Miss LEE SIJGG is monied, sod
quitted the profession—so much for theatricals.
" To return to the yellow fever. We have had
us
cases of yellow fever for the last two days, and only
four cases in the three preceding. We consider tit
city as now perfectly free from this unsvticomt
IP

visitor.

A letter from Windsor. dated November h
says:—" On Wednesday evening the Duches.
YORK and suite left the Castle fur Ostlands.
Royal Highness drove the curricle herself, %sal
her beautiful grey horses."
The Duchess of CLARENCE went on Wed..
from Rochester. to see the noble mansion of ti
Earl and Countess of DARNLEY, at Cobham-100
Kent. Her Royal Higlinet4 remained er uiP
wards of two hours. His Royal Highnessth did
accompany her. as he inspected the dock-yard
Chatham on that day.
The Duke and Duchess of RUTLAND and fernil
left their seat, Cheveley, Newmarket, yestercis:
for &Noir Castle.
A Noble Family. moving in the very first circl
.f polite life, is thrown into a state of rest
di
tress. in cousequence of the elopement of an
son with a married lady. What adds to the NO
lion ta• that the gentleman has also deserted a wir
almost in the honey-mom The parties have

eluded all search:
A separation has taken place between a Peer
the realm and his Lady, which it is hoped ".111
long continue, as the friends of the partici are.
dearouriug to bring about a reconciliation.
rlirracter of the female is irreproachable: the
union arises solely from caprices

Hackney. To consider of the unfortunate events ---"---' -- --:
iudividuals to the country who entertain similar
which occurred at Maticherter on the 16th of
froTnaheßDocoi
her besuldni grey nurses:-
notions with Major CARTWRIGHT upon the extent
August, was the object of the meeting, hut it wars
of the power of Parliament. We admire their 1 ciehsestesr.ortoCLseeAgsthil
T at Cobham-hal
not attended by the numerous body of Noble- ignorance of the first principles of social order, but Earl and Countess of DARNLE ~
men and Gentlemen who ivad signed the Re. our admiration it raised much higher when weecenwobeniet
monanledlinorsdi
tti i.
Highness did"
wardsof two hours. H.l Royal
edthed it Ind
quisition to the Sherith, on the ground, we roe- find such persona advocatirig ail alteration in our I lient. Her Royal Highness remained there vp
accompany her. as he inspected O4. 1
some, that the object proposed by the Requi. asset iiiiportent institution', under the name of 1 gNi
.....illila.g. dln on that day.
sition had been already attained by the PRINCE ikibral• The Duke and Duchess of RUTLAND and fenii
- •
REGENT'S proclamation for convening Podia- Lord CASTI.EREAGH has issued cards of invite-
I left their seat, Clieveley, Newmarket, yesterds
meat. Mr. BYNO, one of the Members for riots to a numerous party of Members of Parliament, far Belvoir Castle.
the county, appeared at the meeting, where he to a valid thiiiirr on the 22J inst., et his residence
avowed this opinion. and we have much pleasure in in St. Jame" '"1""e• of polite life, is thrown into a state of great d .
1.1
The opening of the Frolic i q
h Legislative Chambers tress, in cons' uence of the elopement of an r,...
A Noble Family, moving in the very first circl
adding. that hie manly, temperate. and judicious
is postponed till the 29th 0f this saintoth. in come- ; an" with a to"ffled 11417- Whet adds to the "M.
'Pee* although opposed to the purport of the queues., it is thought, of the Imo's indisposition. I tion is. that the gentleman has also deserted a Mile 1
Resolutions moved by those who convened the as-parties have lush
The French loud* have been dechniug for some I almost in the honey-moon. The
trembly, was heard with respect and attention. The days pop*. mud the fall within a fortnight is set), eluded all search.
Honourable MeMber lamented Site occurrences at nearly e per cent. By the letters of Monday. the A separation has taken place between a peer '
Manchester, as we sincerely believe do the Ministers
price is quoted 69. 70. with 24. 95 for the rate of ' the realm and his Lady, which it is hoped "
exchange. Our limits fell i per cent. below the I long continue, as the friends of the parties are
grit"
price of 'he morning, on the report of the! deavouriug to bring about a reeoneiliali"'
theatselves, and every honest man in the country.
He also admitted the necessity of a furl and ion- illness or Ilse Kelm of FRAN. but subsequently co a
om
deter of the female is irreproachable: the
. ' partial inquiry into the circumstances connected • recovered, and left of nearly as they began. I union arises solely from caprices
I-.. • __ --_ ~.www.o.owsuarramasisawaittkishmalo..:woGishaillelifillhheiliMlNNew _ . • a.— - '_. ---'1" _ • dri

CLASGO Fr CATIIEDIUIL

(nom" Peter's Letters bib rinefelA.l

#1 The situation of the Cathedral of Glasgow h s
been so exquisitely described iir Rob Hoy, that it
would be quite useless to do any thing more than
refer you to it—only the fine pine trees which, in
she vowel, are represented as covering the whole of
the opposite bank of the ravine, and extending
their funereal shade quite to the beck of the crate-
we—these (miserobik dieter!) have been mai•
fic;ql to the /sari 'sacra fumes, and that bank is
now bare and green, as if black pine had never
grown there. The burial-ground, with which the
Cathedral is on all sides surrouuded, is certainly
one of the largest and one of the most impressive I
have ever visited. The long end flat grave-stoms,
their endless lines, seem to form a complete
psvenient to the whole surface—making it a per-
fect street of the dead—the few knots of tall wiry
gran end clustering nettles, which find room to
shoot from between the layers of stone-work, being
enough to increase the dreariness, but not to
turb the uniformoy of the scene. The building
stands on the declivity of a slight hill, at the hot.
tom of which. a brawling rivulet tumbles along
with a desolate roar of scanty waters—but it would
seem the ground had been dug up originally, so as
I. give the Cathedral an uniform and even bile of
foundation.. Yet—such in army succeeding cen-
turies has been the enormous accumulation of the
And, that their graves have literally choked up the
one rod of the church altogether—so that of a tier
01' windows which are see° entire at the east, at the
west time tops only can he traced, sculptured and
ornamented like the rest, just peering above the
surface of the encroaching tomb..
The feelings one has in 'visiting a Gothic cathe-
dral, are always abundantly melancholy, but the
grand and elevating accompaniments by which this
melancholy is tempered in a Catholic, and even in
an English cathedral, are ainissing—sadly amiss-
the rase of a cathedral that has fallen into
the bends of the Presbyterians. When one enters
one of those antique piles in Southern Germany, or
in Spain (for there only can a Catholic Gothic ca-
thedral be seen io all its glory). I know not that it
is pos-ihle for the heart of man to desire any addi-
tion to the majestic solemnity of the whole scene.—
The tall narrow windows, quite dark with the long
purple garments of pictured martyrs, apostles,
tied kings, tinge every ray that ',asset through
them with the colours and the memory of a thou-
rand years of devotion. The whole immeasurable
.pace hdow—nave, transept, and sounding aisles—
nre left glowing in their bare marble beneath these
floods of enriched and golden light—no lines of
heavy pews are allowed to break the surface—it
steins as if none could have any permanent piece
there except those who sleep beneath. You walk
from end to end over a floor of tomb-stones, inlaid
in braes with the forms of the departed—mitres and
crosiers, and spears and shields, and helmets, all
mingled together—all worn into glans-like smooth-
ness by the feet and the kness of long-departed
worshippers. Around, on every side—each in their
separate ehopel—sleep undisturbed from age to age
the venerable Wits of the holiest or the loftiest that
of 1,1,1 came thither to worship—their images and
their dying prayers sculptured and pointed above
the resting-places of their remains. You feel that
you are hot a visitor amidst the congregation and
home of the dead—and walk with gentle steps along
the precious pavement, that answers with a clear
prophetic echo to your living tread.
" The rich old tapestries which sometimes cover
the walls of there cathedral., mingle better with
the storivtl windows than even the finest of pointing,
llosaics—for the exhibition of perfect art throws
discredit on rude art. however impressive, and dis.
nobs the uniform eloquence with winch the whole
should be made to teem. But the greatest of all
our wants is, that of the long processions of kneel-
inir" priest., which carry the eye onward to the steps
of some high inseminated altar—where the blaze of
the antique cimillesticks comes faint and dim
through the clouds of perfumed smoke, swung
ever and anon, show and solemn, from their waving
censera. It is, I sometimes think, a thousand pities
that error. and corruptions, its far different mat-
ter., should bare made Protestants part with so
Thuds of the old hereditary ceremonial of the
church. Even the sacred music of our forefathers
has latest abandoned, as if poison had been breath-
td front its most majestic notes. Whn, that ever
heard the grand simple airs to which the Latin
Psalm,' ere demoted in the Catholic cathedrals,
Galt doubt that iii them we still hear the very sounds
which kindled the devotion of the Origins, the
A ugustines, and the Gregoeies ? They bear nu re-
seinhlaiice to any mime of modern days;—they are
the eel/to:4We relics of that Greek music which con-
ri-ted only iu melody. And why should we have
discarded them ?—Or why, having discarded them
f. o a time, ihool.l we punish our ears and hearts by
reluone to reiurii to them ?
" Lot if t‘rll we have olone somewhat wrong—
sila. ! how tutu greeter have teen the errors of our
Sivottiih brethren, The line which we have drawn
hr tweet' ours, Ives awl many of the ideas of our fa-
thers, has been stretched by than into an impala.
guY. It is, indeed, true, that they have se-
',hired what they have lost by many things of 'arse
other riesetlimoii ; but it is not alien walking
the melancholy aisles of a deserted or pro-
faned caihrural, that one is must likely to do juts.
tire to the tame of their substitutes. It is more
mowed, in such a scene, to hope, that corruptions
lilt the one ride teeing amerided, reweave on the
either may i.e restored—that the Christian North
tory, in some alter day, acknowledge that the faults
were not all on the part of that South to which she
owed arts, lonia, sod religion; and, is the words
of flit poet,
---" all 'beekersiel driven
Roll the b..rhariew tide, and sue to be forgiven."

"'The Cathedral of Glasgow, however, with all its
nakedllCl.4 and all its desolation without, is
a very valuable instil; in Scotland; for it is one of the
very few of the great ecclesiastical buildings in this
country which escaped from the demolishing tiny of
the first disciples of John Knox. You have
ay read, in some of tlw historians, the anecdote of
the mode of its preservation—indeed, if my revel-
faction ser►es isle, it is mentioned in the novel of
146 Roy. Witbnr, there is only the centre of the
choir, which is left in a cathedral-looking style,
witl► pillars, And scutcheous, and monuments; and

here one sees thsit the whale t'itilding, when in its
original state, must have been a noble and imago'.
ficent specimen of the Gothic 'architecture, in its
helot and purest, not it, gaudiest ages At either
extremity of the Cathedral, spaces loa‘oe been par-
titioned off from the nave, sufficient to form large
and commodious places of Presbyterian worship;
and One of these is fitted op with some taste, is
well, perhaps, as the eastern end of a cathedral
can be, where the site of the grand altar is occu-
pied with a pulpit—where the lofty pillars and
windMvs are cut by heavy wooden galleries—anti
the floor loaded with rows of snug pews boxed
in, and lined with green cloth, for the accom-
modation of sitting, not kneeling worrloippers.—
The transept seems never to have been finished,
for it closes abruptly at either side, so as to of.
ford lout a faint idea of the shape of the cross.—
It runs nut at one side, however, for n considerable
spaces in the shape of u low aisle, with a flat soul, on
which, in the old times, a garden had been formed,
and where a few very ancient apple-trees may still
be seen lingering and drooping along the edge of
the atone-work. This aisle has the name of •' the
dripping aisle," derived, no doubt, from the water
which finds its way through the crinonier of that
crazy roof—a name which, 1 think, Mrr. Radcliffe
would have borrowed for some of the scener of her
horrors, bad she heard of it. It is the sepulchre of
some particular family of the city or neighbour-
hood."