The Sun.
London, England, 1838-06-19 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

ITALY, A POEM.
London, Saunders and Otley.
In his preface to this poem, Mr. Reado, with infinite dis-
interestedness, goes out of his way to pass a sentence of
condemnation on his " Cain, the Wanderer"—a drama,
'which made its appearance about seven or eight years
.since, and met with a very fair share of popularity. It was
certainly, as its author here assures us, a rough and unpo-
lished production ; but in the loftier and more essential
qualities of poetry—in vigor of conception, affluence of
imagery, quick and deep feelings, and, above all, freshness
and fertility of thought—it was far superior to the present
work, which has lost in spirit what it has gained in smooth,
elaborate polish. In " the WaMlerer" we recog-
nized a poet more solicitous about his matter than his
Manner ; in " Italy" the case is just the reverse ; here
attention is paid almost exclusively to style ; while
thought, and feeling, and fancy, are left, in a great
!legree, to shift for themselves. In this last poem there
a uniform caution exercised as regards expres-
sion; a wholesale surrendering manifested to the con-
'tentional notions of rhythmical melody, which we regret
to see ; first, because such exceeding care argues a want of
that becoming self-confidence, without which no really
great intellectual triumph was ever yet achieved ; and,
heeondly, because it tends to diffuse a fatal air of languor,
tameness, and monotony, over the poem. We suppose Mr.
Meade took fright at, and was spell-bound by, the word
' Italy and imagined that in treating on so classical a
theme, it was his duty to keep a constant check on the
free and easy play of his fancy, to distrust its first salient
Prompting's, and approximate as closely as possible, to the
Polished, still-life of sculpture. If this was his prevailing
notion while composing " Italy," we can only say that it
was a most erroneous one ; for healthful, natural impulses
-especially in professed works of imagination—are ill-
exchanged for the cold refinements and subtleties of art.
Gertrude of Wyoming" is by no means so fine a poem
as the " Pleasures of Hope"—yet it is finished with much
more care, and was no doubt produced with twice as much
labour. For the reasons we have alleged above, we prefer
Cain the Wanderer"—notwithstanding its author's deli-
berate condemnation of it—to the present production ; but
While we say this, we are far from implying that the latter
Is a failure ; on the contrary, it is full of grace throughout ;
has quite an ivory polish of diction ; is scrupulously cor-
rect, though rather too exuberant, in metaphor ;—in short,
is. deficient only in freshness and energy of feeling. It sa-
tisfies the understanding, but it sloes not touch the heart.
Occasionally there is an attempt made to open an impas-
tioned vein of sentiment, but it is made with timidity, and
consequently produces no effect. We have yet another
Objection to urge against " Italy." It dwells rather too ambi-
tiously on the same subjects which Lord Byron has already
handled in so masterly a manner in his Childe Harold.
Thus we have set descriptions of Clitumnus; of the grotto
Lgeria ; of the Dying Gladiator ; and, what is still
more equivocal in judgment, an apostrophe to the sea,
Which closes " Italy," just as it closed the fourth canto of
the Childe. By dwelling so pertinaciously on these themes,
!‘ir. Reade has provoked comparisons between himself and
Lord Byron, which cannot fail to redound to his disadvan-
tage—more particularly in his address to the Ocean, in
Which he has just missed the inspiration which his noble
Predecessor was so full of, and which is perhaps the sub-
brnest—certainly the most heart-felt—passage in his works,
But it is time that we turn from the shady, to the sunny,
tide of the question. " Italy," we have said, abounds in
Passages of uncommon grace and sweetness of versification.
Here is a proof of the truth of our assertion. The poet,
170 should premise, is gaziNg on Florence from the summits
of the Appennines

" Hark, on the air the goatherd's simple bell :
Oh ! how that Voice of Silence bath a charm,
Awakening with its more than magic spell,
All those affectionate memories that warm
The heart, which chilled by distance, peril, storm,
Bounds to the past, and welcomes hope and home!
How those fond wards can ill itself disarm,
Where'cr the way-worn wanderer may rolm,
Or scorched on desert sands, or rocked on Ocean's foam.

Athens of Italy! I gaze on thee
From Miniato's cypress-covered steep;
Florence! beneath me spread, how drowsily
Thou licst mid thy rich olive groves in sleep ;
Round thy grey towers the veil-like vapors sweep,
Making thy beauty indistinct, more fair—
Hark, sounds of life their equal measure keep ;
The deep toned bell throws music on the air ;
The pulse of one vast lift throbs audibly upwards there."
The lines marked in Italics, especially the image of Flo-
'ence-lying still and entranced among her olive-groves, ore
happily, characteristic of the scene, and full of true poetry.
41le description of the " Dancing Fawn' is not less in
Character ; the versification, in particular, is as buoyant and
mercurial as its subject ; indeed it is the most animated
Passage in the poem :
" The dancing Fawn—he cannot 'bide his joy,
The pubes of delight within bins bounding!
His foot pressed lightly on that music-toy,
Now soft, now full, the answering cymbal rounding ;
how is his rapture at each note redounding!
His arms are tossed In motion, like the tree,
When the wind thro' its joyous boughs is sounding!
Nis face, his eyes brimful, o'erflow with glee,
His is the very life of rapture's extacy !"
The epithet " joyous" is skilfully selected, and gives pecu-
liar appositeness to the simile, which without it would have
been a mere superficial common-place. The apostrophe to
Death, which immediately follows, is tame and elaborate—
as most such apostrophes arc, with the single exception
old Sir Thomas Browne's in his Urn Burial—but it con-
tains one fine line—namely, where the author talks of
Death as

" Felt, tho' unseen, the step of Life behind."
u e sketch_ of Guido's fine painting of Aurora is in Mr.
41eade's most felicitous manner.:—
• "Fling back the orient gates! behold, awaking
Aurora beautiful from tranced sleep;
While with her roscatefingers she is shaking
Nora from her starry hair The young hours keep
Watch o'er her car, and round its pathway sweep
• ' Roses, while scattering onwards as they flee,
Ray* of bright light like foam upon the deep ;
Downward they wheel in dance and revelry,
Waking ow earth's grey hills the choirs of melody."
The picture of Aurora " shaking morn from her starry
L
144jr," is complete in clearness and simplicity of expression.
.4 Mere versifyer would have elaborated it into a stanza,
"a stuffed it with tawdry epithet's, till he had reduced it
t° a bloated common-place. - But our author excels in
Producing little finished cabinet pictures like this, which
lye prefer infnitely to his more ambitious displays. His
?ocasional metaphysical flights are sad failures ; he has no
41ea of abstract speculation, which, after all, in nine cases
out of ten, is fatal to good poetry. Had Coleridge not
Necked himself on this delusive quick-sand, he might have
)°eonie the most popular imaginative writer of his age.
tat though we protest against Mr. Reade's metaphysics,
Ite have nothing to object as respects the tone of senti-
ment that pervades his " Italy." It is utterly devoid of any-
like lackadaisical sensibility. He does not fall into
"Ysterics at every fine painting or landscape he sees, but
tleseribes them in a chaste, manly, and unaffectedly eloquent
Bpirit, though a little more animation, and.a little less atten-
110n to mere expression, would not have been amiss, even
kl,ete• We sum up our notice ,by observing that Mr.
Meade is as far superior to Lord Byron as a moralist, as
he is inferior to him as a poet.
771.-

4E CONGRESS OF VERONA : COMPRIS-
ING A PORTION OF MEMOIRS OF HIS
trIV TIMES.--Br M. De CHATEAUBRIAND.
In 2 Vols.
London, Bentley, 1838.
is •
is.a work which none but a‘Frenchman could have
• tten, and' which few Frenchmen ever proved themselves
well qualified to write as the Viscount de Chateaubriand. •
Irwe were not-previously convinced that the noble author
Mr4l the divinest poet, the most admired novelb.t, the first
c, hristian essayi:it,and the most original critic-in the world,
the fact would only prove that our inef olul:ty, or rather
4ellendenee upon the soundness of our own judgment, was
t tr°llger than our faith in the correctness of M. de Chateau-
tfinnd's reiterated convictions of the merits of his. own
naumerous literary productions. If, by any chance we ever
weed M. de Chateaubriand's poetry not quite equal to
tiV ordsworth's—if we rated his Oriental Travels less highly
j 144 those of the learned Dr. Pococke—if we preferred
471 writings of Pascal and Fencion to the finest creations
....pi/genius, the error, if error. it were, originated in our in-
-41)4citY to believe all that the noble author h:ts, an hun-
dredw times over, told the world both of himself and his
41". And I ould we henceforth decline to rank M. de
that s
:eal, uur.and among the first statesmen and diplomatists
.tact the eighteenth century has produced—should we hesi-
or to be persualed•that he was the sole ant* of the war
.1823 in Spain, which delayed for nearly ten years the

CHURCH-RATES.

triumph of the Constitutionalists—should we doubt his
ability to outwit Prince Metterolch, to awe the Duke of
Wellington, to inspire Catming with jealousy, and Broug-
ham with envy of his transcendent political talents—we
freely confess we shall be acting contrary to the whole
spirit and tenor of these volumes.
In the autumn of 1822, M. de Chateaubriand left the
Court of St. James', where he had been filling the office of
French Ambassador, to attend, as one of the Plenipoten-
tiaries of France at the Congress of Verona. The principal
representative of France was the Count, afterwards Duke,
de Montmorency, and so little regard was paid to the pre-
sence of Chateaubriand by this haughty Peer, that he was
not permitted so much as to see one of the notes presented

in the name of France to the Great Powers assembled in
Congress. This humiliating fact is prominently stated by
the noble author of these volumes, in alluding to M. Mont-
morency's notes and negotiations in defence of the policy
of a war in Spain ; and yet with a modesty peculiar to him-
self, he claims all the credit of the actual authorship of
that war ! 1l sneers at the little part played by the
Duke of Wellington at this Congress of Sovereigns, who
after protesting against 'the invasion of Spain, the coercion
of the South American colonies, and proposing a treaty for
the suppression of the Slave Trade, which was nit adopted,
quitted Verona in disgust, leaving the Absolutists thunder-
struck by the energy of his counsels, and the abruptness of
his departure. We are certainly not among the political
admirers of his Grace ; but we will do him the justice to say
that we know at present of no Statesman, either in Eng-
land or France, who would have the moral courage to act
as M. de Chateaubriand acknowledges him to have acted
at the Congress of Verona. But the back-stairs represent
tative of France at Verona tested with a poet's perceptions
the labours and conduct of a Statesman.

But overlooking the egotistical spirit which pervades
almost every passage in these Volumes, in which the noble
author has occasion to refer to himself individually, their
publication cannot but be regar:led as an affair of gicat
moment to the future historian. M. de Chateaubriand has
dared to pull aside the veil in which diplomacy has so long
been shrouded from, vulgar observation ; and though his
own appearance behind the scenes is contemptible enough,
we must admit that he cuts quite as respectable a figure as
many names ten times more distinguished for their skill in
the management of political intrigue. It is a curious fact
that the secrets of the Congress of Verona were all but
wholly discovered by Cobbett, while neither Canning nor
his colleagues in the Ministry so much as guessed at them
till there was no longer a necessity fur affecting any con-
cealment on the part of the allies. The conduct of the
English Government was also based on a sounder political
principle than any of which either the Ministry or the op-
position of that day had themselves the remotest concep-
tion—at least such is the conclusion to which we arrive
from akexamination of the documents before us. M. de
Chateaubriand has given us, at great length, his conversa-
tions and correspondence with the Emperor Alexander,
who appears to have latterly entertained a sincere friend-
ship for him. His portrait of Alexander is the best yet
furnished by any writer. His correspondence with Can-
ning is a new feature in the received representations of of-
ficial intercourse. To throw each other off their guard, the
two Ministers mutually agreed to dispense with all official
etiquette, and to write in the language of the most subli-
mated friendship of the relations of two kingdoms in all but
a state of actual hostility ! The consequence was a tissue
of professions as ridiculous as the substance of their com-
munications was disingenuous.

Altogether this work is neither dull, uninteresting, nor
uninstructive. It will benefit Europe ; but greatly at the
expense of M. de Chateaubriand's remaining reputation for
modesty and sagacity. His character of the Spanish peo-
ple is full of vigour, and at the same time one of the most
faithful portraits of a nation on record. He promises the
world another set of memoirs after his decease. We sin-
cerely pray, nothwithstanding our many differences of opi-
nion with the noble author, that it may have many long
years to wait for so invaluable a legacy.

TO MR. SAMUEL SCOTT, CHURCHWARDEN OF

BUNGAY SAINT MARY.
Sir,-1 owe you no apology for addressing you on the sub-
ject of Church-rates. You were Churchwarden of this parish
in 1833, in conjunction with Mr. Mann, and you distrained
the goods of Messrs. Morris and White. Those goods were
privately sold and delivered to the buyers, and the balance of
cash was tendered to the parties distrained on.
You, the Churchwarden, knew the goods were sold, for an
account of the proceeds and expenses was delivered to the
parties in the handwriting of Mr. Mann. The transaction
was complete, and you recovered your rate.
The man who had secretly bought part of the goods on the
promise that his name should never be divulged, was after-
wards ashamed of his purchase, and returned them to Mr.
Morris, who refused to accept them, and ordered them to be
sold for the benefit of the poor.
The goods were then carried round the town with some
noise; but no assault or breach of the peace; sold by auction,
and the money distributed in coals.
In 1631-5, you were again Churchwarden, with the well.
remembered John Bobbif. You then, without summoning me
before the magistrates, cited me into the Ecclesiastical Court.
On my declining to appear, you did not, as you might have
done, and as the usage is, pray for a verdict as in an unde-
fended case ; but you held off, that the Court might declare
me in contempt for not appearing, and a warrant issued, with
the characteristic words " Take no bail," to place me in Ips-
wich
I remained there from the 12th to the 23d of May.
In June, the attention of Parliament was directed to these
unexampled proceedings, and Lord Henniker and Mr. Kelly
defended your conduct on the ground that having distrained
the previous year in the usual way, you had been prevented by
public tumult from selling the goods, and believed it would be
fruitless to make another attempt. Immediately I pointed
out to Lord Henniker that his statement was at variance with
the truth ; that you had in fact sold the goods, and accounted
for the money ; and that the '' tumult" which took place
several days (filet-wards, was a paltry matter, which even the
constable saw nothing to interfere with. His Lordship re-
plied that he knew nothing of the facts, and had only stated
what he was instructed to state.

I declared then, and I repeat now, that so much of Lord
Hennilcer's instructions as related to the sale in 1834, was a
wilful and notorious falsehood.

I did not then state what was however equally certain, that
the fear of popular tumult was a mere pretence, which furnished
no reason for leaving the accustomed path, and citing me to
the Ecclesiastical Court ; and that the real motive was personal
malice, the hJtre:l of bye gone associations, and the zeal of
proving a new attachment to the Established Church.

I have waited for demonstration to expose the pretence, and
is now afforded me.

In 1836 you. were again Churchwarden, but John Bobbit,
tired of the pleasure, forsook you ; and a kindred spirit was
found in the person of James Gower. A few churchmen had
subscribed to pay the Church-rates for 1835-6, and in the
new year; it was given out that the rates of myself and my
family had been secretly paid, with a palptble insinuation that
it was done with our connivance:

Archdeacon Glover, incumbent of the pa'rish, who selects
you as his nominee, afterwards avowed that he had paid my
rate, with the laudable object of promoting quiet. Strange.
notions of quiet a militant Archdeacon must have to lay the
owner of a score printing presses under the imputation of
flinching from a subject to which he was pledged by personal
conviction and public profession. However, you• distrained
on several other parishioners, and, as.if for the purpose of stir-
ring up resistance, and inviting illegal retaliation, the law has
been glaringly violated, and the goods have been retained
within a few days of a whole Year, unsold and unaccounted for.
In 1837 Mr. Scott was again Churchwarden of 13ungay St.
Mary, and I aril mistaken if the title be not too deeply burnt
into your name to be crazed for many a year.
For the rate of this year yon have again distrained on me and
my neighbours, and yesterday the value of ycur pretended
fears of 'a tumultuous sale was accurately tested. The goods,
and those of last year, were together offered to public auction.
and were quietly and peaceably sold. It is true the sense of
the respectable persons who stood round was expressed by
their silent abstinence from all participation in the proceed-
ings; but the goods were actually sold, (in the absence of
competition at one-third of their value) to a few low pople
who were present.

In few words, Sir, you recovered your rate by distraint in
1833, you have done the same in 1837 and 1838, and you
could have done the same in 1835. That you preferred to
carry your cause' to the Ecclesiastical Court, I now charge
you with this cyhienee before inc, on " the rancour of political
and religious into!cranco."

I am Sir, yours, &,e.
JOHN CIIILDS.
At the London Coffee House, Ludgate Hill,
June 16, 1838.

PLUMPTBE S- DlLL—Deputations of Li-
con Victuallers belonging to the National Protection Society, are now
in town for the purpose ofopposing Mr. Plumptre's most stupid and badly-
arranged Bill, from Manchester, Liverpool, Birmingham, Bristol, Leeds,
Bradford, Hull, Stockport, Rochdale, Warrington, and Portsmouth. We
are happy. to announce that they have met with strenuous support
from all classes in the House of Commons, as well as in the House
of Lords. We understand that it is their intcntion to wait upon T. S
Dun .oarbe, Esq., the Member for Finsbury, to request his vatuable as-
sistance, which, we doubt not, L will now, as upon all former occasions,
very cheerfully accord.

Asa proof of the manner in which priiate Bills arc
often smuggled through the Houses of Parliament, the Ay/tab:Qv Noes
states, that the frst intimation the inhabitants of Aylesbury and Thane
hal of the. Aylesbury and Thame Railroad Bill was the notice in the
payers or hot week, that the Bill h4d received the royal assent.

COURT CIRCULAR.

TI114: SUN, LONDON, TUESDAY, JUNE 19, 1838.

Ilcr 11Lijesty held a Court yesterday afternoon at the new Palace,

The Marquis do Itrignole, Ambassador Extraordinary from the
of Sardinia, had an audience of the Queen, to deliver his credentials.
His Excellency was introduced by Lord Menelg (ollietating fur Vise •un,
Palmerston). one o 1 her Moj-sty's Princiyal Secretaries of State, and
conducted by Sir Robert Chester, Master of the Ceremonies.
La Marquics de Brioole, Sardinian Ambassadress, had also an au-
dience of her. Majesty:

Baron de (Alto, Bavarian Minister, had an audience of her Maj,sty,
fn dAiver a letter. His Excellency was introduced by Lord Glenelg,
and conducted by Sir Robert Chester, Master of the Ceremonies.

His Excellency the Marquis de Brignole presented to the Queen the
five gentlemen attaches to his Embas:y—Count d'Os'ernoz, Count dr
Broglio, Chevalier de Sanburg, Count della Chieja de Cervignagro, and
the Marquis Durazzo.
The Court was attended by the Earl of Uxbridge, Lord in Waiting,
Vice Admiral Sir Robert Otway, Groom in Waiting, and Colone:
\Vemyss, Equerry in Waiting.
Viscount Me'bourne had an audience yesterday, of her Majesty.
Her Majesty took an airing in the Parks, between live and six
o'ci.•ck yesterday afternom, attended by the Countess of Mulgrave, Hon.
Miss Pitt, and the Baroness Lehzen.
Her Maj••sty the Queen Dowager took an airing in a pony phaeton
and four to Kensington yesterday.
The Duke of Cambridge visited the Princess :Augusta yesterday, at
Clarence House.
His Highness Prince Christian of Holstein-Gli!cksburg, accompanied
by Prince Ernest Phillipstall, and accompanied by M. lc Chambellan de
Bille, and le Comte de Blucher, arrived at Farrance's Hotel, Belgrave-
street, at half-past two o'clock yesterday afternoon, from the Conti-
nent. His Highness was received by Baron Biome, the Danish
Minister.
Madame Dedel has been very unexpectedly obliged to leave London,
in consequence of the alarming accounts of the health of her eldest son,
and she took her departure on Sunday, for Rotterdam.
Prince Schwarzenberg, the Austrian Ambassador Extraordinary,
and Princess Schwarzenberg, paid visits yesterday to their Royal High-
nesses the Princess Augusta, the Duchess of Gloucester, and the Duke
and Duchess of Cambridge.

Ills Excellency the Marquis de Brignole, Sardinian Ambassador
Extraordinary, after being presented to the Queen, went, attended by his
suite, to the midenees of the loyal Family yesterday.
The Earl of Gosford, Colonel Seale, M.P., Mr. Howard, M.P., Mr.
F. French, M.P., and Mr. Guest, M.P., had interviews with Viscount
Melbourne yesterday, in Downing-street.
The Earl of Gosford had an interview with Lord Glenelg yesterday,
at the Colonial Oflice.

Gentlemen, I cannot find words to express the satisfaction and gratitude
which I feel upon receiving from your Grace these reports of the pro-
eedings of yourself and of otheit distinguished individuals, and of.
the public at large, with a view to the erection in this Vali of the me-
tropolis of a memo: ial of the services in which it has been my lot to be
_.fig,ged. lam aware of the degree to which I am indebted to your
:iracc's friendship, kindness, and partiality in these proceedings, And
it is sati..factory td rteeire this communication in the presence of my
old Wends, companions, and comrades ; ifleti Itsith whom I have served
so long ; to whom I ant indebted for so much aSsistatin 1 thty d's.
'iuguished 0-.emselves on every occasion on which any service was per-
tUrmed which could attract the public attection, or merit their appro.
batio:s. I will give my attendance upon the artist fixed upon by the
Committee whenever he may think proper to require it.

REGENERATION OF THE DRAMA

[There is so much truth in the following oktervations of our
liberal contemporary, the Morning Advertiser, founded on a
luminous passage from Blachwood's Magazine, that we have
great pleasure in copying both into The Sun. The drama is
tot dead—it only sileepctli—to awaken into glory.]
The public have decidedly a deeper interest in the management of our
national theatres than they seem to imagine, if we may judge by the
apathy which is evinced at all times on the subject, whether the interests
of the drama be committed to the best or worst hands. Now, with a
thorough contempt for all Quixotic sallies or Utopian notions, we are
still firmly persuaded that it is possible to work a thorough change in this
feeling, and to rendet the theatres, as they might to be, not only a me-
dium for the highest intellectual excellence of the country, but also a
source to the public of solid, permanent, and supreme delight. One
part of the plan we hare in view for this purpose, is thus lucidly laid
down by a writer in Blaawood's Magazine, to which our atteution has
been casually directed:—
" We altogether disregard the ridiculous outcry raised against
theatres from their abuse: and, so long as we have Shakspeare, can re-
joice that we had a theatre to summon that alight), genius into action,
and still have a theatre to spread the splendours of his mind through the
people and posterity. The first step, as we conceive, would be to form
some public body for the express encouragement of the drama. Why
not establish a society for the direct promotion of dramatic authorship—
to give rewards for the ablest Comedy and Tragedy ; to spread dramatic
knowledge, to purify dramatic taste; to exercise the mild influence of
opinion over the conduct of actors, authors, and managers alike, and
without harshness or officiousness, have all the effect of a powerful
and salutary jurisdiction ? The object is certainly worth the trial,
and yLt we suffer the most brilliant, most effectual, and most perma-
nent, popular, and universal of all the efforts of genius to lie in
utter neglect ; struggling into an abortive existence under the difficul-
ties of bankrupt theatres and bitter criticism, wholly unprotected by
the natural patronage of the higher orders,almost wholly unknown to the
people, and thus absolutely decaying out of the land. To undertake
this duty and remove this stigma, should be the work of the opulent,
the intelligent, and the patriotic of the nobility of Emsiand. It would I
well become Lord Francis Egerton°, for instance, and individuals of his
tastes and opportunities. Many would join them ; and a society would
be formed, which mig'nt become rapidly one of the ornaments of the
c iuntry. We cordially hope that the experiment will be made. We
can answer for its success. llalf.a-dozen years would not elapse without
producing a total change in every matter connected with the national
drama, stimulating the latent poetry of England into vividness and
beauty, and repcopling the deserted bills of national literature with
6hapes not unworthy to move even among the colossal heroes and demi-
gods of Shakspeare."
Leaving this proposition, as we safely may do, to stand cc fall by the
eloquent terms in which it is stated, might not another Association
be formed to sanction and support the revival of old standard plays,
if brought forward in the classic and gorgeous style for which
Macready has immortalized himself, during the present season, by
Macbeth, Coriolanus, and King Lear I Speaking practically at once
to the point, let us suppose that a body like the Garrick Club
were to subscribe, on every such occasion, for five hundred
pounds worth of bow tickets, with the privilege of using them
whenever they pleased Curing the run of the piece it was their
object so patronize ; surely, if the wealth, :taste, and spirit of
their connexions be duly weighed, the tickets thus taken might
he circulated without imposing any serious sacrifice on the
itidivnluals who made themselves responsible for their sale.
Something of this sort was done just a century ago, to re-
store the works of Shakespeare to the Stage, from which they had long
been banished by the fashionable follies of the day, and the success of
the experiment proved so complete, that after raising the buried bard,
like another Lazarus, from his dramatic death, sufficient funds were
found to erect that monument which commemoredes him in Westmin-
ster -
B
Enough of us, who have not "bowed the knee to aal,"
are yet remaining,
8 we hope, to rebuild the broken altars that are crum.
Wing Lway through disorderly neglect or licentious innovation.
His
vigour to his judgment,
he would
Lordship has produced two or three dramas of considerable
merit, and now that time has given new grace; to his fancy, and fresh
ytliteurs,:laergesuacireists).±f
with fair chances
so tempted,
fet;
e certainly try
o more t
ED. M. A. ' ltan