attempted opera and perpetrated tragedy, but still persists in giving us so much for our money, that the performances are very rarely concluded before what are facetiously designated "the little hours ;" and his playbills, to

The rector magnificus for that year was a celebrated classical scholar. I felt at once that I had to do with a different sort of person from him I had just left. A loose morning gown was wrapt about his tall emaciated person. A high black velvet cap surmounted a fine Ro-be accurate, instead of having merely the words-" this man profile, sunken cheeks, dark eyes, with rather a tender expression. He bowed courteously, but did not rise upon our entry. After some indifferent conversation, he recapitulated my chief duties as student-pointed out in energetic terms the folly and danger of secret associations -and concluded by telling me that a late enactment of the university required that every student, on matriculating, should, instead of taking an oath, pledge his hand and word of honour to the rector to abstain from such unions.

There was an earnestness and paternal benignity in the manner of this venerable man that affected me much. I gave the pledge with enthusiasm. Would to God that I had kept it!

He signed my matriculation ticket, and I was a student a BURSCH.

THE EDINBURGH DRAMA.

MAZEPPA'S "Wild Horse" has turned out but a tame

concern, as might have been expected. He is not to be compared with the worst of "the quadrupeds." He first

evening will be represented," should also contain, about the middle of them, "after which, to-morrow morning, will be performed a farce and an interlude!" To be serious, this is an evil which is so productive of other evils, that, if the chamberlain have the power to interfere, it is high time that his Grace of Devonshire deserved well of all play-goers, by teaching Mr Morris manners. Mrs Charles Gore's comedy of "The School for Coquettes" has been a complete hit; for though it has the common fault of all young writers, that of having too many characters, several of which must therefore, perforce, be given to very inferior performers, still the lead ing parts are all admirably sustained; and it has drawn excellent houses for nineteen successive evenings. Mrs Glover and Miss Taylor, and Messrs W. Farren, Cooper, F. Vining, and H. Wallack, par excellence, deserve every encomium. Of Poole's new "Semi-historical"— -as he affectedly calls it-play of "Madame du Barry," we cannot conscientiously speak very highly; it being to the last degree larmoyante and tedious. If in two acts, instead of three, it might have been endurable; but though there are some few good situations, and some characters of it are well acted, as a whole, it is very far from what we have a right to expect from the author of "Paul Pry." To make bad worse, indeed, the parts of some of the French noblesse, of l'ancien régime too, were allotted to gentlemen who looked "as if nature's journeymen had made them, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably!" The play is, however, already cashiered; having been acted four times only. A new farce, to be entitled "Fricandeau, or the Coronet and the Cook," is promised for Tuesday next, which, if it realize green-room hopes and predictions, will do wonders; but on such authority we augur not. The scenery at this house, both new and old, is so utterly unworthy of a theatre royal, that we decline alluding to it further, to preclude our using language which we are too polite to approve of.

walks on, rears once, and then stands still. He next trots up a sort of terrace, for all the world as we have seen an Irish hod-carrier perform a similar feat. Afterwards he stalks upon the stage as leisurely as the ghost in "Hamlet," stopping to allow Yates to deliver a melodramatic-Anglice, nonsensical-speech from his back, and then is with some difficulty hauled off again. Why need we pause to describe the whole of his progress? He completes his task by galloping down an inclined plane, which by a bad pun is called "the steppes (steps) of Tartary." In short, the thing is a failure, because the manager has attempted to represent the unrepresentable. What the playbills call "Tableaux," are not tableaux in any sense of the word. The dialogue is the worst that we have heard in any melodrama. We have expressed ourselves Mr Arnold's English Opera Company, at the Adelthus leniently, out of respect for Yates' feelings, who evidently prides himself on the spectacle. On the back of phi, is, we are truly happy to say, succeeding, because we honestly believe that the success is amply merited, the horse he certainly does look very like a whale." Bernard's The little ballet of " Patrick and Nora" is not exactly though we cannot eulogize all the novelties. "Old Regimentals" is an interesting trifle, as well writ-what the playbills call it-new; but it is somewhat ten as it is well acted; and little Miss Poole, in her more, it is good. Vedy danced in it more like her former namesake's bagatelle of "Old and Young," has played self than we have yet seen her. Baseke, too, was excellent-and D'Albert outdid himself. The dancing of the quite as well as her predecessor, Clara Fisher, in the trio in this piece might afford, what stage-dancing very English Paganini, is certainly a very wonderful fiddler, same part of the "Four Mowbrays." Mr Collins, the seldom does, admirable studies for a painter. Sanders's "Father Luke" was "the very moral" of a hedge priest: but, with all due reverence be it written, we think his and King, in Darby, was a broth of a boy-one equally Mr Fitzball's “ Haunted Hulk" is, in our private opiexhibition rather infra dignitate for our friend Arnold. at home jigging it on a barn-floor, or handling his alpeen.nion, a very poor affair; but, as the public crowd to see

ALFRED.

P. S. and N. B. We have heard some call in question the propriety of Mr Stoker's walking through one of the alances. Mr S. acted with his usual tact, discernment, modesty, and good taste. He was performing the part of a captain, and he has heard that" the Tenth don't dance."

THE LONDON DRAMA.

Regent's Park, London,
Monday, August 8, 1831.

DESPITE of our most valuable advice to the proprietor of the Haymarket Theatre, which advice has been urged and re-urged by all our respectable contemporaries, monthly, weekly, and diurnal, Mr Morris has not only

it, and applaud it when they do see it, we are far from wishing to press our sentiments in opposition to theirs. His last opera of "The Sorceress," though in prose, verse, and story, equally below par, by the aid of excellent music by Ries, and admirable singing, particularly by Miss H. Cawse and Mr H. Phillips, was completely successful, and will, we have no doubt, run. The scenery and stage appointments are all, and always, excellent. A new operetta is announced for Monday next; and Peake's melodrama of "The Evil Eye," including Misses Kelly and Poole, and Messrs O. Smith and John Reeve, in its very strong cast, will immediately succeed it.--Of the minor theatres, Astley's alone is very prosperous: the Surrey and the Royal Pavilion are doing tolerably; but the Coburg, Sadler's Wells, and the Little City Theatre, are any thing but crowded. Covent-Garden and DruryLane are already making active preparations for the approaching winter season, at a greatly reduced scale of

LITERARY CRITICISM.

The Speeches of the Right Honourable William Huskisson; with a Biographical Memoir, supplied to the Editor from authentic sources. In three volumes. 8vo. London. John Murray. 1831.

To us who have for years hung upon Mr Huskisson's expositions of financial and commercial policy, the most interesting portion of these volumes is the biographical memoir. Not that we are not happy to receive at the hands of their enterprising publisher an authentic collection of the deceased's masterly orations, but that, for the moment, we take greater pleasure in a connected view of the events of his industrious and influential life.

Canning and Huskisson are men to whom future ages will assign a more important station in the history of our country than even their warmest admirers have yet dared to attribute to them. This rank they will owe in a great measure to their undisputed superior powers of mind, but more to the part which the force of events obliged them to play. Would they, or would they not, they were obliged by the pressure of external circumstances, and by the counter-workings of their own minds, to be the chief agents in bringing about a gradual change of policy in this country. Inclined by feeling and conviction to the popular party in the state, bound by their connexions to that which, at the commencement of their career, they found in power, their whole political lives were busied with the attempt to reconcile such jarring claims. They were the means of bolstering up the old system of restrictions and opposition to popular will for a time, because their semi-liberal conciliatory policy won for them most of the less hasty and turbulent spirits of the opposite party. At the same time, as the additional support they thus gained for their own party was at the expense of constant concession, they were in reality sapping the foundations of that power which they seemed to support. Their political allies, dazzled with the genius of their advocates, relying on the strength of their position, did not awake to the knowledge that the whole course of their policy had undergone a gradual and insensible change, until it was too late to retrieve their former position. But for the aid of Canning and Huskisson, their power might have been more rudely assailed, but could not, in the long run, have been so utterly annihilated.

We unite Canning and Huskisson in this retrospect, because, as the biographer of the latter has well remarked, they form in reality but one statesman between them. It is uttering but half the truth when we say, that they clung through their political career inseparably to each other-it was impossible for them to do otherwise. Their union was based upon personal friendship, but that friendship rested upon the rooted conviction, that what the one wanted the other possessed-that together they might defy the world, while asunder each was lamed of more than half his power. In Huskisson, we recognise a pervading and comprehensive intellect a mind capable of evolving schemes of policy from a joint reference to first

principles and historical facts—a temperament to adhere doggedly and pertinaciously to his convictions; but we desiderate that commanding and overpowering passion which stimulates men to action, and bears down all oppo

sition. In Canning, on the other hand, we have the principle of action developed to a degree bordering on the mercurial. Quick in his apprehension of the subtilest arguments and most extended schemes of policy-fluent in his enunciation of what he had once conceived-adorning every thing by a gorgeous and redundant fancy, he was incessantly impelled to activity by an internal impulse, which would not allow him to rest, and by a craving after the excitement of public debate and popular applause. But his views were not the creatures of his own intellect -they were caught up as they suited his taste or temper, or the exigencies of the moment. Their plausibility was their chief recommendation-they were embraced with all the warmth but all the transitoriness of passion. To Canning such a man as Huskisson was indispensable, to infuse into him a consistent scheme of action, and to hold him to it. To Huskisson such an expounder and enforcer of his views was equally necessary.

In the eye of the world, which in general penetrates little below the surface-which listens to the voice without seeking to guess at the hidden workings which prompt its utterance-Canning necessarily occupied the largest share of attention. To such, however, as do not content themselves with a mere apprehension of successive events-who seek to discover the principle which binds them into one mighty whole-the character of Huskisson must appear a much more important object of study. He was one of that class of statesmen who have most influence over the destinies of nations—who, contented with effecting their purpose, care comparatively little for the credit of having done so. He was one of those who work in secret, but whose power is certain as it is unseen. He does not strike the blow, but he gives the impulse.

William Huskisson, the son of a gentleman of moderate fortune in Staffordshire, was born on the 11th of March, 1770. His mother died while he was yet young, and his father marrying again, her uncle, Dr Gem, physician to our embassy in France, insisted that the two elder children should be intrusted to his care. Mr Huskisson accordingly accompanied his great uncle on his return to Paris in 1783. Dr Gem paid great attention to the education of his young relative. Franklin, Jefferson, and most of the Encyclopædists, were his intimate friends. The period was one of intense political excitement. All these circumstances, co-operating with a natural predisposition of mind, naturally gave young Huskisson a bias in favour of finance and political economy, at that time the fashionable studies of the day. principles he then imbibed, matured and confirmed by long anxious practical study, adhered to him through life.

The

The speech which he delivered at the "Societé de 1789" is worthy of notice, merely as a proof of his early ripeness of intellect, and as it was the means of procuring for him first the acquaintance, and afterwards the friendship of the present Marquis of Stafford, at that time our

It was at this period that he first became acquainted with Canning. In 1795 he was promoted to the office of under-secretary of state in the department of war and colonies. In 1796 he was first brought into Parliament. Natural diffidence, and a just estimate of his own powers, withheld him from starting as a debater. He applied himself sedulously to the business of his own depart-portant branches of a state's economy-views, the fruit of a ment, laboured to complete his knowledge of finance, and the various bearings of our commercial interests, and silently mastered the forms of the House, and the mode f conducting debates.

A Family Tour through South Holland; up the Rhine, and across the Netherlands to Ostend. (Family Library, No. XXIII.) London. John Murray. 1831. after the fashion of " Dates and Distances." The principle MR MURRAY seems inclined to publish a series of works upon which our family party set out is thus announced:

"In the Autumn of 1828, a family party of six persons, with a male servant, set out from London, with the intention of making the tour of the Southern Provinces of Holland,--of ascending the Rhine as far as Mayence,— thence paying a visit to Franckfort,-returning by the Rhine to Cologne,-from thence crossing the Netherlands by Liége, Waterloo, Brussels, and Ostend, to London.

eight days, travelling very much at their ease in the carriages of the different countries (not diligences), in treckschuyts and steam-vessels,-saw whatever they considered to be interesting,-put up at the first hotels, dined sometimes at tables-d'hôte, and at others in their private apartments, and were finally set down from the Ostend steam-vessel on the Tower hill, having expended on the whole journey just one hundred and thirty-eight pounds."

The book itself is one which it is difficult either to praise or blame. It is sensible in the extreme, composed in decent English, and correct in its details. Having gone over the same ground more than once, we can vouch for its fidelity. But having said thus much, we have nothing left to say.

The description of Rotterdam is pleasing:

and windows, by means of small pump-engines, or with pails, mops, and scrubbing-brushes; and, when engaged in this operation, they are seldom deterred from pursuing their task of brushing, scrubbing, or dashing water, by the heaviest showers of rain that may happen to fall. In fact, a Dutchman's house, externally, is as neat as paint and water can make it; nor are they less neat and clean in the interior. The floors, in general, are so rubbed and polished, as scarcely to allow one to walk upon them with safety."

The country round the city, as it presents itself to the traveller's eye, is equally well described:

canal, the road branched off, and here commenced a con"After running for some distance along the side of the tinued succession of neat, and sometimes very handsome villas, on both sides, and at no great distance from it. "A smooth flowing river, as large as the Thames at Here and there an elegant château occurred, surrounded Westminster, and thrice its depth, bordered on the one by an extensive domain, well planted with patches of side opposite to the town, with a high green sloping bank, trees, but generally in straight lines; and for the most planted with trees, and on the town side with a noble, part the mansion was approached through a grand avenue. uninterrupted quay, of at least three-fourths of a mile in The boundaries also of these large estates are frequently extent; and on this quay a long line of fine old elm-trees, terminated by avenues of trees, each row belonging to of some centuries' growth, yet still in full vigour, such separate proprietors; but the division of property is are the objects that, on approaching Rotterdam by water, mostly marked by a dike and a ditch. Most of these first strike the stranger's eye, and, with the several tiers country-houses, whether large or small, have a ditch of of ships along the whole extent of the quay, are admirably stagnant water dividing the little front garden from the calculated to convey to his mind an impression of the road; and close to this ditch, generally indeed rising out wealth and importance of this commercial city. of it, and not unfrequently bestriding it, is sure to be "The name given to this fine quay does not at all found a small building, square or octagonal, called a lustcorrespond with its present description. It is called huis, or pleasure-house, with a window in each side, comBoomtjes, or the little trees,' which, like the new manding a complete view of the road. These little streets' of our towns, are frequently among the oldest buildings or pleasure-houses are so very numerous as to that are found therein. The Boomtjes' are now fully form a characteristic feature of this part of the country. equal in size to the largest trees in St James's Park, ha- They occur, indeed, as we afterwards found, by the sides ving been planted in the year 1615. of the roads throughout South Holland. In the summer and autumn evenings, they are the common resort of families, where the men enjoy their pipes with beer or wine, and the females sip their tea; and both derive amusement in observing and conversing with the passengers on the road. In any other country, these would be considered as just the seasons of the year, and the time of the day, when these ditch-bestriding pleasure-houses would be shunned, the effluvia from the stagnant water being then strongest, and the frogs, which are everywhere seen skipping about, most lively and noisy. But the same vitiated taste, which has selected the ditch for the site of the pleasure-house, may deem the croaking of the frog, when in full song, just as melodious to their ears, as the note of the nightingale is to their more southern neighbours.

"It is not very difficult to give a general idea of Rotterdam; but the effect which is altogether produced on a stranger, who, for the first time, has visited a Dutch city, is not so easily to be conveyed. The ground-plan of the city is that of a triangle, the base being the quay we have mentioned, stretching along the river, in its whole length about a mile and a quarter, according to the plan, the central portion of which is the Boomtjes,' occupying, as before said, about three quarters of a mile; and a perpendicular, drawn from it to the opposite extremity, may be somewhat less than a mile. Through the middle of most of the streets runs a straight canal, bordered by large, lofty, and healthy trees,-oaks, elms, and lime-trees, chiefly the latter; and all these canals are, or at least were, crowded with shipping of every conceivable size and form. They are crossed by numerous drawbridges, which, mixed with the shipping, the trees, and the houses, have a very picturesque effect. Between the trees and each of the canals is the quay, which is of a width sufficient for shipping, landing, and receiving all articles of merchandise; and within the row of trees is the paved street for carts, carriages, and horses; and between this again, and extending close to the fronts of the houses, is a paved footpath of bricks, or clinkers, as they are called, set edgeways, which, like our trottoirs, are for the sole use of foot-passengers, but, unlike ours, are not raised above the level of the street. It will readily be imagined, that in these canal-streets, with all the shipping, there will be an incessant bustle.

"The houses are generally on a large scale, and lofty; in many of the streets they are really elegant. But belonging, as they do, chiefly to merchants and tradesmen, their workhouses or magazines are sometimes on the ground floor, and frequently extend far behind, while the family is contented to inhabit the upper stories. With all this, however, nothing can exceed in cleanliness every part of the exterior of those houses. Here we observed, as in Antwerp, that the women were constantly employed in washing the walls, the doors, the window-shutters,

"As there is no want of water in any part of Holland, the flower-gardens attached to these villas have generally a fish-pond in some part of them; and when they happen to face the road, the pleasure-house is frequently placed on a hillock in the middle of the garden, and is accessible only by a bridge or a flight of steps. Each villa has its name, or some motto inscribed over the gateway, the choice of which is generally meant to bespeak content and comfort on the part of the owner, and they afford a source of amusement to the stranger as he passes along. Thus, among others, we read, ‘Lust en rust,' Pleasure and ease; Wel to vrede,' Well contented; ' Myn genegentheid is voldoen,' My desire is satisfied; ' Myn lust en leven,' My pleasure and life; Niet zoo guaalyk,' Not so bad; Gerustelyk en wel to vrede,' Tranquil and content; Vreindschap en gezelschap,' Friendship and sociability; Het vermaak is in't hovenieren,' There is pleasure in gardening. And over the entrance to one of the tea-gardens, near Rotterdam, was inscribed, 'Het vleesch potten van Egypte.' Some of the larger gardens abound with fruits and vegetables, and beds and borders of flowering shrubs and plants are laid out in all the grotesque shapes that can be imagined. It must be confessed, however, that an air of comfort presides over these