The British Press; or, Morning Literary Advertiser.
London, England, 1826-10-12 00:00:00

DEATH'S DOINGS.

,
A volume, under the above title, has been published to
illustrate twenty-four plates designed and etched by ft,
Dagh y. In hie Preface Mr. Daglcy modestly states
that'
in his etchings he emit a soured to show how writings ofa
taro class may be embelliehed, without resorting to those
highly-finished engravings, which, however admirable as
works of art, are so expensive as to exclude the works they
ornament from general circulation. With this view, Mr.
Dagley has published a series of plates, in effect, greatly
superior to the best wood cuts, and but little inferior to the
most elaborate copper-plate engravings. The executiem
of
those plates, whilst it does credit to the artist, affords the
best assurance of the advancement of that particular branch
of the art, and displays the wide and promising field which
rltir e• ‘seoenattio tine " grim tyrant" labour-
, and, without respect for
it opens for perseverance and emulation. But, excellent's
is the execution of those etchings, we esteem the design,
mingueliiiii,nieofreat.igaTbil; ieyn
rank, age, sex, or circumstance, abruptly intruding when
least expected or desired, and affording a striking illustra.
Lion of that important and subduing truth, that "in the
midst of life we are in death." Personifications of what
is
superhuman or spiritual are seldom adequate: the exe.
cation rarely realizes the conception, and the attempt
usually gives place to disappointment, which consoles itself
with ridicule. The emblem which represents Death is sin
exception to this observation, and is, perhaps, of all others,
the most fitting and best conceived. 11e tee the King
I of Terrors in his works ; and what can imprew the mind
with a more forcible idea of his potency thou when we see
the effects of his power, and behold the skeleton form and
tnarrowless bones of that " w;lich once lived, and moved,
and had its bring ?" Yet, even in this form, Death having
become familiar, is no longer awful, and the pen and the
pencil have been busied in rendering it a subject of ridi.
cule, by conveying ludicrous noti ns to the eye, and hue
moroua associations to the mind, connected with it. In
the work before us the artist has avoided the beaten
track, and by endeavouring, in some instances, to give a
real solemnity to the emblem of Death, has evinced a thee
rough knowledge of his art. Ile is particularly successful
in that plate where the heartless mother is engaged by the
attractions of vanity, whilst Death, in the disguise of a
nurse, is poisoning her baby. The plates representing
Death trailing on the glutton, and drawing the last bottle
for the wine-bibbers, also afford very favourable specimens
of the artist's ability. The compositions illustrative of
thoze pieces consist both of prose and verse. They are
numerous, and, as they eae the work of many hands, evince
various degrees of merit. Amongst the contributors are to
be found the well-known names cf Barry Cornwall, W.
11. IVatts, J. F. Pennie, Mrs. Hofiand, L. E. L., W.
Jerdan, and mzny others of leis note. The following
anecdote of Hngarth appears in a tale entitled " DeoM
and Me Artist,' to illustrate a plate in which a young
painter is seen just finishing a picture of Time, what
Death steps in and finishes him:—
'• flogarele, who drew from the living that mortal drama which
immortalized hit genius aril his name, having accomplished his
gee t and muliitirious corks, took up his palette and his other
painting tools to make that last study—FlNlS, which, with his
usual fiinese, beinc about to bid adieu to Life, he dedicates to
Death. Where sill you name the hero who met the mortal enemy
like lie ?

" A few months before this genius was edged with the malady
which deprived society of one of its greatest ornament,, he proposed
to his matchless pencil the work in (plug:ion ; the first idea of which
is r,r.id to have been elicited in the midst of his friend., the
convivial glass was circulating round his own tweet hoa-d. ' My
rent subject,' said the moral painter, *hall be the END OF ALL
T

' • If that be your determination,' said one, 6 your busineu will
be finished ; for then will be the en., of the painter's self.'
" • Even so,' returned the artist ; • therefore, the sooner my
work Is done, so much the better.' Accordingly, he began the
next day, continuing his eles'gn with all chligerce' secs' !v rsith
an apprehension that Ire should not live to complete the cmtpo,i.
tint. This, however, he did, and in the most Ingenious manner,
by g'ouping every thing which could denote the end of all things:
a broken bottle—an old broom worn to the stump—:he butt.end of
an old musket-.a cracked bell—a bow unstrung—a crown tumbled
in pieces—tower, in ruins—the sign-post of a tavern, called The
‘‘'orld's End, tumbling—the moon in her wane—the map of the
g!ohe turning—a gibbet falling, the body gone, and the chain
which held it dropping down—Phoebus and his horses dead in the
clouds—a vessel wreeked--Time, with his honr-glass and tithe
broken, a tobacco-pipe in his mouth, the last whiff of smoke going
out—a play-book opened, with exam( wanes stamped in the corner
—an empty purse—and a statute of bankruptcy taken oat against
Nature. • .Ito far, so good,' exclaimed Hngerth: nothing remains
but this'—raking his pencil in a sort of ;sropbetie fury, and dashing
off the similitude of a painter's palette broken—• FINIS!' exclaimed
the painter; • the deed is done—all is over.' It is remarkable that
he died within a month after the rosmtletion of this tail-pieee, It
is also well known that lie never again took the pencil in hand."
The opening lines, in the poetical contribution entitled
" The Artist," afford a favourable specimen ai Air. Ren-
nie's talents. They arc as follow :
And what is genius?—'Tis a ray of Heaven,
'Burning dim mortality ; a gleans
Tat flashes on our glootninens by fits
Like summer lightnings, which, in radiant lines,
In wreath the midnight clouds with tints divine;
It gilds Imagination's darkest scenes
With splendid glory. like dime meteor gems
That spread their richnt es o'er the polar skies.
0, 'tie • straggling sunbeam, through die storm,
Flung 'on the eluster'd diamond. w*h reflects,
In burning brilliancy, the borrowed blase:
It is the morning light, outpouring all
Its flood of splendor sin the bloomy bowers
Of flare own Paradise !

Perhaps the best of the poetical contributions is that in-
tended to illustrate the plate in which Death is represented
as tntering to sot free the Captive. The writer of this
poem is stated to be the Rev. Henry Stehhing. The Cap-
tive is supposed to mistake the vision of D♦a:h for that of
Liberty, which he addresses in lines replete with warmth,
and sustained with force. We can only afford space for
the opening stanzas, which must for the present complete
our selections from this nucleating work:—

Lih::rty ! Liberty ! thou hut heard
My weary prayer at length,
But the plumeless wing of the captive bird
Is shorn of its buoyant strength;
lam too weary now to roam •
Through sumlight,and the air,
To hear me to my mour.taiu home,
Or joy if I were there.
Liberty ! Liberty ! thou hue been
The prayer of my burning heart,
Till the silent thoughts that were within
Into life and forts would start ;
And, oh 1 the glor;ou, .airs that roli'd,
Like scenes of things that he,
Ake voices of the night ii•a: told—
" The captive and the &aril are free !"
Liberty ! Liberty ! I have prayed
To see thy form again.
And borne, with spirit undecayed,
The Oungeon anl the chain ;
But darkling art thou come to me,
In siietice and in dread,
And round thee many a term I see
Of thine own tombless dead.
Oh ! altered is that glorious mien,
That burning brow of pride,
That shone before me in the scene
Where patriot thousands died ;
Oh ! chang,il since when I bore the Lraral
In glory :mil in youth,
And saw my leagued brothers stand
k'ur Freedom and the truth.
Long years of woe have chili'd my brew,
And faint my spirit grows,
• • • • •

Comma THEATRE.—A new version of the popular novel
of Guy Mannering has appeared at this Theatre, under
the title of the Gipsy's Proplacer, which bids fair to rival is
attraction any drama that has yet been produced on the
subject. In adapting the story to a minor theatre, it has
been judged expedient to embody all the earlier incidents
in what may be termed a preliminary act, which serves
effecttially to develop the characters of Meg Merrilies
and Dominic. Sampson ; besides the advantage of saving a
long narrative, always tedious on the stage. The greatest
attraction, however, is the performance of Mrs. Egerton
in Meg Mcrrilies—a character which her excellent perso-
nation has rendered exclusively her own. The rest of the
characters are very ably supported ; Davidge is exceedingly
successful in Dominic. Sampson ; and Bedford and Miss
Boden, in Harry and /.yelp Bertram, introduce some
pleasing melodies, which agreeably contribute to the ge-
neral effect. The whole of the scenery is new and effective,
and reflects credit on Mr. Danson, the artist. 'the Theatre
has overflowed on each representation of this piece.

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