taken place in which the music was made by the clashing of steel-in other words they had fought a duel; but they had apparently become reconciled. During the combat, however, which forms part of the second act of the opera, their former animosity became suddenly revived, and they thrust at each other in earnest the stage-fight becoming a real duel. The public, all the time, not in the least suspecting that the actors were doing more than displaying their " cunning of fence," applauded their empressement, and gave tokens of the most lively interest. An appalling cry was heard; and the actor who personated the master of Ravenswood suddenly fell to the ground. He had received a deep wound in the breast, and fell dead on the stage! His antagonist was immediately arrested; the company broke up on the following day; and the theatre has been closed since. Now, our comment upon this is, that no stage-manager should ever permit actors to appear upon the stage in " fighting parts" with out buttoned foils. We have known some very unpleasant scenes to take place on our own stage in consequence of the opposite practice being permitted; and in many instances have known hands and wrists to be very severely cut in consequence of the awkwardness of bungling fencers. We do not much apprehend an unpleasant imbroglio, carried to the sword's point, amongst our present opera company, but, as edged tools are dangerous," we are for the universal establishment of the rule of safety. By the way, were Grisi of a different sex, we should not much like to stand before her, had we incurred her resentment; and were she provided with a trenchant Toledo, we shrewdly suspect that her excess of soul would make her drive it home -at least if that disreputable person, Willis, were before her, with the cock-and-a-bull story which he has trumped up about her in his “Loiterings" (more properly designated Luttrelisms") of Travel. THE MANIAC MOTHER. By G. T. M. In two hands, so lean and thin, Oozing through the fingers came Wept and sobbed the time away; Will none dig a grave for me? On me since William went: I could not kill a thing so fair,- My heart will burst to see that blood; But, with wild and piercing cry Then, she sat her down once more, With many a bitter moan: Rocking slowly to and fro, As if her breast would burst with woe! Hot and thickly streamed apace Clasped her hands, how tightly, there,— And she breathed this prayer: "Father! Father! lend thine ear, Oh, in mercy, hear me, hear! And my babe"-a shriek most wild, Burst as she named her murder'd child; The lightning flash that scath'd her brain, Gleam'd on the broken links of memory's chain. 'My child! ah, what! my hand is red, I wish I could wipe out that stain— How came it there? I wish I could- The frenzy passed once more away, Stop! let me think! Ah, yes!-'tis sad- But yet I am not so: What was my fault? My fault was love: He died—my little babe was born; Then came the cold world's bitter scorn; My brain was racked, my heart was torn, To death my guiltless child I hurled; I snatched it from a cruel world, That would have spurn'd it for its mother's sin!" On the stream she bent her eye, Saw the light clouds sailing by, 'Mongst the dock leaves coarse and dank, Seemed, that, gazing on its breast, She had found a place of rest In the pictured tide : Rest it was, but of the grave- She weeping plunged beneath the wave, We beg to put in a claim in behalf of the ladies of the empire for a daily portion of agreeable literary matter to relieve the heaviness of the morning papers. Small as the French papers are, they are never published without a Feuilleton of this description; and we may truly exclaim with Sterne: "They manage these things better in France." Helas! et j'en rougis encore, Et s'il couronnait le calice, Taglioni has been quite cut out by Cerito, and retired from the Opera boards in dudgeon. Our only objection to Cerito is that her smile is rather too stereotyped. Her features are very charming, but if she could vary their expression a little more, and contrive to look un peu plus spirituelle (too much, perhaps, to expect from a dancer), she would be LAMARTINE. perfection itself. At the close of her engagement here, Cherry-toes (the name by which we love to call her) goes to the Académie Royale of Paris, which has been styled with much truth "the Elysium of dancers." The following very just reflections, recorded in most harmonious verse, we quote from the Hon. Mrs. Norton's "Dream": "Not for herself was woman first create, With years of sorrow for an hour of joy; Or only valued for her rosy smiles,-) That in the frank and generous heart of man, The place she holds accords with Heaven's high plan; He sees in her the angel of recall; Still, in the sad and serious hours of life, The Drama. NEITHER London nor Paris presents, at this moment, a flattering prospect to the well-wishers of the drama. In each capital three of the principal theatres are closed. In Paris the Odéon, which was created the second "Theatre Français," by a decree of the Emperor; the Renaissance, in which many serious pieces of sterling merit have been at various times produced; and the Porte Saint-Martin, the management of which invariably kept it in the van of the Boulevard Theatres. Against these is to be set off in London the closing of the DRURY LANE, COVENT GARDEN, and ADELPHI Theatres, while full treasuries have, for some time, been rarities at both sides of the channel. The interest which the romantic drama excited for the last ten years in Paris, is languishing to decay; and there, as here, music is in the ascendant. Every thing points to the pre-eminence of the lyric drama in both countries, and the only drawback is the dearth of meritorious composers. We look most anxiously for the opening of Drury Lane with English opera upon a magnificent scale, and on this we repose its only hope of success. The single refuge for the legitimate drama in this country is the Haymarket, and there we think it will be imperishable. Webster's spirited management, and Macready's transcendent powers, rally round this theatre whatever is left amongst us of love for the Shaksperian drama, and for the Washington. By M. GUIZOT, Member of the Institute, Ambassador of France. Translated by Henry Reeve, Esq. London: Murray, 1840. This is an introductory essay prefixed by M. Guizot to the French translation of the original collection of Washington's writings. It is interesting as presenting a continental view of subjects with which we are tolerably familiar. The political philosophy with which it abounds is luminous as well as liberal; and Washington's character and conduct are worthily appreciated. M. Guizot sustains with great force the disputed point, that Washington, having done his utmost, was right in retiring from the government. The translation is very well executed, and possesses the recommendation of having been retouched by M. Guizot himself. The Universal Tendency to Association in Mankind analyzed and illustrated, &c. By JOHN DUNLOP. Houlston and Stoneman. An able philosophical analysis of the causes and tendencies of that universally recognized principle which impels men to associate for mutual co-operationa necessity which arises directly from the peculiarities of our organization, higher order of tragedy generally. Yet even here we find Mr. Power's vis comica, so closely bordering on buffoonery that it is frequently impossible to draw the line of demarcation, more stimulating to the public, and, by consequence, more profitable to the management. This actor frequently takes gross liberties with his audience, grafting upon the coarse stock of the pieces in which he appears, passages of gratuitous and downright indelicacy. The modest blush, but the vulgar laugh; and this, we suppose, is all that the actor desires. Glencoe, upon the last night of its performance, met with a most brilliant reception; and we are happy to perceive that it is with great justice announced for a speedy repetition. Macready and Helen Faucit have at this theatre gathered fresh laurels in the Lady of Lyons. We learn with pleasure, that Mrs. Stirling presides, during the present week, over the Ladies' Club, in the Queen's Theatre, Tottenham Court Road. We have no more fascinating or accomplished actress. and which deeply affects the religious, political, and social destinies, not of the present alone, but of all coming generations. The Hand-book of Health. Mitchell, Red-Lion Court. This is another of Mr. Mitchell's charming little publications, whose utility vies with their neatness and moderate price. The preservation of health, the prevention of disease, and the attainment of a green old age, are the inestimable objects which the writer has in view; and the principles which he has established, with the view of placing every man's health in his own keeping, are deduced from the soundest axioms of medical philosophy. Those who rightly esteem health as "the brightest jewel of existence," will not fail to provide themselves with this portable panacea, and waistcoat-pocket physician. The Paris Sketch Book. By MR. TITMARSH; with numerous Designs by the Author. 2 vols. Macrone. An admirable diorama of Parisian life, sketched from nature by a bold English hand, to which every scene is familiar, with strong lights, but without one particle of exaggeration. |