Bach, Handel (whose "Israel" was com- and the situations to be portrayed, as to justipleted in three weeks), Haydn (more of fy musical annalists in giving the Master a whose compositions are lost than live), Mo- high place in the records of his time; and zart, all men remarkable as discoverers in sincerely regretting his loss. Would and renowned as classics-held the vens of that any signs could be discerned of a sucready writers. Rossini's "Il Barbiere," cessor! But, for the present, the solitary again, which has now kept the stage for originality which Italian musicians manifest two-and-thirty years, was the work of lies in excess and exaggeration. A SCOTTISH SPORTSMAN.-The Inverness Jour thirteen days: the insouciant composer being spurred to his utmost by a disparaging letter from Paisiello, who had already set Beaumarchais' comedy. It was the empty nal copies from the Cape Frontier Times of FebruConnoisseur, who thought to gain reputa-ary 22, an account of the sporting exploits of a Mr. the second son of a northern baronet [whose tion by declaring that "the picture would name, put forward for distinction by the Scotch have been better painted if the painter had paper, we suppress in mercy to the hero, because we taken more trouble." Nor will it ever be gather a different moral from his deeds]; which exforgotten that the "Bride of Lammer-petuation in Africa of that skill which the Scottish ploits are, with evident pride, described as the permoor," ," the masterpiece of Walter Scott gentleman acquires from his pursuits at home. In (whose defence of fertility, apropos of Dry- a journey of eleven months, during which he is den, might have been quoted as germane to represented to have penetrated many hundred miles the matter), was thrown off when the No-white man, this chivalrous and intrepid' Scot shot beyond the highest point previously reached by any velist was hardly conscious of what he forty-three elephants and sixty hippopotami, "the finest wrote, owing to racking bodily pain. Those, troops to which they belonged having been singled we believe, on whom the gift of fertility has out for slaughter." "The rhinoceros, buffalo, been bestowed, run some danger of becom-buck, hartebeest, sasaby, black and blue wildbeest, cameleopard, elaud, gemsbok, roan, antelope, watering "nothing if not fertile." Their minds koodoo, pallah, zebra, rietbok, kilpspringer, &c., are impulsive rather than thoughtful-their were found by him in such abundance that he rarely fancies strengthened by the very process want of the flesh, or to get their heals as specimens to expended his ammunition upon them, except when in and passion of pouring them forth. In the grace his collection of sporting trophies-which is decase of Donizetti, at least, it is obvious that scribed as being now so extensive as almost to rehis invention was, year by year, becoming quire a small ship to send them home." It appears fresher with incessant use and practice. course of his brilliant campaign of extermination, that this gentleman has "had losses," too, in the There are no melodies in any of his early and that the victims of his thirst for sporting fame works so delicious as those of the quartett did not suffer themselves to be massacred for his and serenade in "Don Pasquale;' "" no glory without some attempt at resistance and retaliwriting so highly toned, characteristic, and manity should be added in fairness a large amount ation. To the reckoning of this gentleman's hudramatic as the entire fourth act of "La of incidental slaughter which is not formally insisted Favorite." His instrumentation too, al-on by his panegyrist as among the proofs of " the ways correct, became richer and more fanci- excellence of his sport." "He has lost all his horses ful in each successive effort. (15), all his oxen (30), and all his dogs (20), and his It has else- best wagon-driver. His horses were killed either by where been remarked (and the remark is lions or horse sickness, and the fly called txetse. All significant to all who are used to consider his oxen were killed by this insect. His dogs were the subject), that, considering Donizetti killed, some by the lions, some by the panther, crowas called to write for particular singers, an driver was carried off on a dark and cloudy evening codile, and by different kinds of game. The wagonunusual number of the Operas thus fashion- by a monster lion,-which Mr. Cumming shot next ed to order have become stock pieces: day." This is a very imposing bulletin-well dethereby proved to be essentially superior to of Cruelty to Animals. We suppose, from the triserving the notice of the Society for the Suppression the generality of works of their class. In umphant tone of the record, that this gentleman's short, it may be said that, though there be place in Scottish society will be a high one:-but no startling beauties in the Operas of Doni- we confess we have some difficulty in fancying the zetti, none of those electrical melodies hero "at good men's feasts," enjoying the gentle which, like "Di tanti," or "Largo al fac-faces of children. We should be unwilling to see ministry of women, or looking into the smiling totum," or Assisa al pie d'un salice," his rifle by our hearth. It has been said that exring through the world,-neither such in-tremes meet; and it is true that many of the exprestensity of sentiment as reconciles us to the what we should consider characteristics of the sasions of a very high civilization resemble greatly very limited alphabet in which Bellini vage. The American Indian who counted fame by wrote, they contain so much of what is scalps, and the man of Borneo who still counts it by agreeable, so many happy combinations and the heads which he takes, seem to us to be morally excellent opportunities for vocal display, is the shipload of carcases which his rifle has made. the near neighbor of him whose title to reputation such frequent harmony between the sounds-Athenæum. Was it for this I curb'd the lightsome play Of youth's high passions-its unburden'd mind? Was it for this I flung its joys away? And when the throes of wild ambition pined, Why did I learning's volumed stores unclasp, Why with rack'd brow pursue the chase for truth, To see it ever fly my toilsome grasp, Myself grown old amidst the wreck of youth? A creeping stillness fills my lonely room, To catch the light of one familiar face. My sister-my sweet sister's clear, glad voice, Oh, might I dream away into my rest, The garden is filled with their drowsy hum! Oh, where is a hive, for the bees are come? Whence have they wander'd? I cannot tell, Our garden now fills with their drowsy Oh, where is a hive, for the bees are come? Might lay my fever'd temples, all thrown bare, Warming my clay-cold cheek-to catch her Whisp'ring kind words, meet for a time like this, But I am here alone-all, all alone; None n-ar that loves me, none that I can prize; Strange voices o'er my tuneless sleep shall moan, And strangers' loveless hands shall close mine eyes. How drear and dark it grows! My faithful lamp, This chill all here about my heart ?-No more! Sweet sounds around it the drowsy hum! Oh, where is a hive, for the bees are come 1 have shrubs that have flourished the summer through The jessamine hanging like pearls on dew, They'll grow more fair with that drowsy Oh, where is a hive, for the bees are come ! The sun-flower's golden round shall yield Welcome, welcome, their drowsy hum! The Airs we breathe are made of human sighs,-Oh! doth it not soothe the worn mind to depart Nought in the world of jovaunce or of grief, The glorious Universe-of suns and moons, Were it not so, I were indeed alone, Hence, deeply thank I that Poetic Soul And now, though in the wilderness I stray, Yet still I yearn for what is less a dream,I would embrace another Soul than mine; I would that Truth should be, not only seem, Substantial Truth-or human or divine! From the Metropolitan. SONG OF THE BRIDEGROOM. BY MRS. ABDY. THE bridal veil is on thy hair, The wreath is on thy brow, Thy vows are breathed-why, dearest, wear From friends long tried and known? Still shall I prove thy friend and guide: Love shall direct my faithful breast, Thy wishes to prevent; Or, if a wish be half expressed, But Time, which weakens others' truth, mart, To pass from the city, its tumult and din, Yes, here to our view are the dwellings displayed, The troubles to lighten, the cares to assuage, And here dells the pastor, whose wisdom imparts And wins them to dwell on a kingdom above, THE MAIDEN FROM AFAR. FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER. WHEN the lark had trilled his blithest lay In a green valley far away A beauteous maiden did appear. That lonely vale saw not her birth, None knew from whence she wandered thereSo bright, she did not seem of earth So fleet, her footsteps died in air. Her presence shed a happy hue Of sunshine over every heart, But something in her beauty drew From her familiar looks a part. She brought wild flowers of radiance bright, Fresh with dews, by breezes fanned; Fruits that had ripened in the light Of some more genial, sunny land. These treasures of an unknown shore She gave-the fruits, the flowers, to someTo youth, to age-each of them bore His faery blessing back to home. Thus every guest was welcomed by This maiden, with a peerless gem; But when a loving pair drew nigh Her choicest gifts were showered on them Alter a little chat about the great dramatist, Alfirere, we fell to talking about Byron's séjour at Pisa. The professor knew him well, and seemed to have seen a good deal of him. He recounted at length the story of the assassination which led to Byron's being obliged to quit Pisa, and which has been so often and so differently related. His impression is and it seems clear enough-that Byron did not deserve the least blame in the matter. The deed arose from the misjudging zeal of an Italian servant, who thought that his master would of course be well pleased to have an insult so avenged. Her renown rapidly spread throughout Italy; and we find her visiting Bologna, Modena, Parma, and Venice,-and everyw ere reaping fresh laurels and praises from princes and potentates of all sorts. Of the worthy Signor Fernandez we hear nothing whatever the while. It is to be supposed tl at, like a good bird, he stayed at home to keep the nest warm. In 1765, his gifted spouse went to Inspruck, at the invitation of Maria Theresa, "per cantare le nozze di Maria Luiguia di Borbone" with Pietro Leopoldo. On her return from Germany, loaded with honors and presents of all sorts, she was made "reale poetesse" (a royal i. e. not a real, poetess, gentle reader), with a pension from the Grand Duke of Tuscany. In 1775, we find her once more at Rome,-where she became at once the passion of the "Arcadi." These gentle shepherds named her one of their pastorelle," and gave her the Arcadian name of Corilla Olympica, by which she was ever after known. "This honor," says the historian, "she, merited by two accademie, in which she treated twelve subjects in various ancient metres with exquisite poetical beauty, profound learning, and such rapidity that Nardini the professor, who accompanied her on the violin, was not able to keep up with her,"-con tanta velocità che dicono non averla potuta seguitare il Nardini, professore di violini, che con quello strumento l' accompagnava. In the following year she was crowned at the Capitol, on the 31st of August, 1776, after a fresh exhibition of improvi "Your recollections of that peried must include" Shelley also," said I. "Sicuro!" answered the Professor briskly, "mi deve ancora venti paolis." He then explained that this debt of twenty pauls, or about nine shillings, had been contracted by Shelley one day, as he was walking, asking him for that sum to give away, and that it had afterwards escaped his memory. He went on to remark that Shelley " had no beard, and a voice like a woman." He said that every body loved him. From Byron, Shelley, and "Tre-la-ouni," their riding parties and their escapades, the conversation, jumping a huge gulf of years, persons and associa-sation "su temi filosofici e teologici." This was the tions, lighted on the once celebrated Corilla; whose story, curiously characteristic as it is of Italian manners and society some sixty years since, I should perhaps have deemed hardly worthy of occupying your space were it not that it seems highly probable that she was the prototype of De Stael's Corinne, or at least that she suggested to the Swiss authoress such a character as illustrative of Italian life and society. Corilla died at sixty, in the year 1800. She must therefore have been an old woman, near the end of her brilliant career, when Rossini knew her among the frequenters of La Febroni's saloon, her real name was Maddalena Morelli,-and by marriage with a Spaniard in the employment of the government at Naples, Maddalena Fernandez. She was born at Pistoja, of parents in humble circumstances; and was adopted for the sake of her beauty and precocious talents by the Princess Columbrano, who took her to Naples, where she married. Her vivacity, beauty and talents, especially that for improvisation, made her at once "the rage" at Naples. culminating point of her glory. Cardinals, princes, and prelates vied in feting her; poets from all parts of Italy poured in their tribute of incense-" Mille poeti concorsero a cantarne arcadicomente le lodi." But in the midst of all this glory, as is usually the case, it began to appear to some that the Roman world were disproportionately lavish of applause to a lady who had after all but made some tolerably melodious verses.-such as hundreds of others could make in any desired, or rather undesired, quantity. This tone once taken, the revulsion is generally violent. The ridicule of the thing was felt,-and poor Corilla (tell it not in Arcady) was laughed at. Old Pasquin took up the cudgels, lampoons rained fast and thick, and Corilla left Rome,-in no want, however, of an honored asylum. For Paul the First and Catherine the second of Rus sia invited and pensioned her. Joseph the second of Austria invited her to his capital. But she preferred Florence; where she seems to have passed the remainder of her liie, admired, honored, and beloved, in the enjoyment of æsthetic eau sucrée (an Italian Countessa would in those days as soon have | derstand the boon which Mr. Lane has conferred Have I taken up too much of your space with poor Corilla? She is a characteristic excerpst from a social system which existed and can never exist again, and, as such, is as worthy perhaps of being preserved in your amber as any other fly. upon them? The common notion of welcoming a SUPPOSED RELIC OF THE GREAT PLAGUE OF LONDON.-On Saturday last, during the progress of an excavation in Union-street, Southwark, between High street and Redcross street, for the formation of a main sewer, about three feet below the surface of the roadway the workmen came upon a compact mass of human skeletons, all lying in perfect regularity and entirely free from any admixture of the surrounding earth, or remains of coffins; and these skeletons where piled one on the other to the depth MR. EMERSON'S LECTURE.-Mr. Emerson, the of ten feet, covering an area of 260 square feet. lecturer from Massachusetts, is delivering a course The workmen cut their way with pickaxe and of three lectures at Exeter Hall, the proceeds of shovel through this stratum of the last vestiges of which are to go in aid of the early-closing movehumanity, and upwards of three or four cartloads of ment. This is a movement peculiarly marked with bones were thrown into the public thoroughfares. the character of the times, one of whose grand This desecration of the dead caused observation, and distinctions it is to have at length recognized the the assistance of the police had to be obtained to general and unprerogatived man as something more protect the remains, some persons from the Mint than a mere machine out of which it is social ecohaving endeavored to sell the bones at the marine-nomy to get all possible working power. It is a store shops. At a late hour on Saturday the paro-truth which evaded the "wisdom" of many worthy chial officers of St. Savior's, Southwark, caused the men among "our ancestors," now-to the world's remains that had been dug up to be removed to the great gain; gone to their graves, that behind the counparish churchyard for interment, and on Sunday ter and in the workshop throbbed human hearts, and the excavation was covered over, to screen it from that the men who measure tape and weigh sugar and public view. Considerable excitement prevails from ply the needle had intellects; not to speak it profanely fear of contagion, it having been ascertained that as worthy of cultivation as their own. As for the this spot was used to bury the dead during the great good of the world, so is it for their own, that these plague in London. On Sunday night several cart-excellent persons have taken refuge from the docloads were piled up in Union-street, and still more trines now walking the earth in the shadow of their remain to be dug up. It is calculated that at the immemorial escutcheons; for, what they would have very least there are the remains of from 500 to 600 done abroad in a world of reading shopmen and persons.-Britannia. mechanics-of toil, like "leisure," taking its pleasure "in trim gardens," &c., we know not. The dangerous doctrine that mind is not the incident of rank would have greatly troubled their digestion. The lights of these revolutionary times would have been too strong for their vision. To the honor of that class of believers, however,—who have left here and there a single survivor to represent them at the court of the "coming man" and haunt the new era like an anachronism-it should be recorded that they bore their faculties meekly; exercising their prerogative of thought as little as might be, and not much intruding the wisdom which, like their old parchments, grew musty for want of air. But the day of monopolies is passing away. The franchise of thought is made universal:-and the Early-clos ing Association purposes to help the busy population of the metropolis to the means of exercising it. For their objects Mr. Emerson lectured on "Napoleon;" and will lecture on Wednesday next on "Domestic Life," and on Saturday on "Shakspeare,"a daring thinker even in the day of privilege. MR. LANE'S ARABIC LEXICON.-It is well known to Oriental scholars that no good Arabic Lexicon exists; and perhaps none but men of learning can fully understand how important it is to the world that it should have a good Arabic Lexicon; but it is evident enough to ordinary people that it is of consequence to our knowledge of history and ancient literature to have as good a key as can be found in the treasures of Arabic literature. There are, in the Mosques of Cairo, materials essential to the formation of a perfect Lexicon which can be had nowhere else; these MSS. are crumbling to pieces so fast that, if not used now, they will be lost for ever; and Mr. Lane is the only competent man who has access to these materials. He saw the importance of the object, felt the pressure of time, knew that he was the man for the work, and therefore devoted himself to it, in a generous negligence of his personal interests. He gave up a good literary income in Loudon, the comforts of an English home, and the society of family and friends, and went to live at Cairo, working, to the injury of his health, at an unremunerative labor which he well knew TESTIMONIAL TO THOM.-The fund subscribing the world would be slow to appreciate. And there for the destitute family of the poet Thom amounts he toils, day by day, with his sheikh, poring over now, we are glad to see, to a sum of 200.-includthe old MSS., which can scarcely be touched with-ing a donation of 20% from the Literary Fund. In out falling to pieces. And there he must toil for two years more, till his work is finished. And what Dext? How will our Universities, and the Government, and the India Company, show that they un Athenæum. London, the Caledonian Society have formed a |