intervals in one's pleasures,-there is the satiety of books, and the fatigue of writing, against which a resource is wanted; and which, we will venture to say, is found in nothing so complete as in music. The piano-forte is an instrument always at hand, and it depends neither upon friends nor the weather, but solely upon our own fingers. If men of intellectual occupation, who would gladly at times exchange their overworking thoughts for sensation, knew the complete relaxation and renovation of mind which music affords, they would all become players. We might quote the authority of Dr Priestley on this subject, who advises literary persons, even with a bad ear, to persist in the practice of music. The phi. losopher might have remarked, that the utterly bad ear is the anomaly in our constitution, and that, if the elements of music were imbibed as a school exercise with the rudiments of grammar, there would be few who in after life would not soon be in a capacity to please themselves and others.-Foreign Quarterly Review. LEITH PHILHARMONIC SOCIETY.-This praiseworthy and rapidly strengthening institution gave its first public Concert for the sea. son, on Wednesday evening. The attendance was full, and the auditors as they well might be-highly delighted. A symphony by Haydn, and overtures by Romberg and Mozart, were perform. ed with great spirit and effect. Webbe's glee-"The Mighty Conqueror" was deservedly encored. Cunningham's "Mariner's Song," with Graham's delightful accompaniment, had scarcely justice done it. Messrs Kenward and Currie delighted their hearers in a duet, and would have been still more pleasing had they mutually accommodated their styles, Mr Maclagan, in "Dear love, while thee possessing, " displayed his excellent judgment and powerful voice to great advantage. Mr Rogers, master of the band of the 3d Dragoons, showed a perfect mastery of the clarionet. Others there were, but our limits do not admit of our particularizing further. May the Leith Philharmonic go on as it has begun!

CHITCHAT FROM GLASGOW.-There is literary agitation here now as well as political. The Lord Rectorship of the University ought to be a literary honour. It has lately been often made a political distinction. For it there have this year been started-Joseph Hume, Henry Cockburn, and John Gibson Lockhart, besides others, now withdrawn. Were it'purely a literary matter, even the Whigs would not hesitate to give the palm to the scion of our own stock-the author of "Reginald Dalton," As it is, Hume is likely to carry it off."The Republic of Letters" is "crowned" with success." Brown's Animated Nature" goes off with a vivacity worthy of its title; and his "Quadrupeds" with the speed of all-fours. The "Literary Museum" preserves many valuable specimens. The "Chamelion" is waiting for a skin like Joseph's coat-of many colours;-and such are our Glasgow publications. THE COMPETITION FOR BURSARIES IN ABERDEEN. The last Monday of October is a day memorable in the life of the schoolboy-it is the momentous day of the Competition for Bursaries. On no day in the year does the College present such an interesting appearance. At the outer gate stand a bevy of third and second class Grammar-school-boys, laughing and shouting as the various candidates bustle through their ranks. A lad from the country is a perfect treat to them. The poor fellow is dressed in his best clothes-but the shears that fashioned them were not the shears of a Stultze. His green corduroy trowsers, naturally enough frightened at his gigantic tackety shoes, recoil in terror to his knees-while the sleeves of his blue coat hang far over his hands, as if anxious to conceal his horny fists. His waistcoat, of a flaming red pattern with blue spots, comes down nearly to his knees, and contains two vast pockets, well stuffed with bread and cheese. On he comes clattering on the pavement with a face full of desperation, and an immense armful of books-he plunges among the crowd, and before he has made two strides, his hat is dashed over his eyes. The wicked urchins celebrate their triumph in a hurrah-and before the rustic has recovered his eyesight, and is ready to take vengeance, they have disappeared-and he strides down the court, muttering over the Construction rules. The honest face of George, the Sacrist, grins horrible a ghastly smile at his uncouth appearance-mistaking him for a Professor, the rustic endeavours to honour him with a salaam-and in the attempt slips his foot and tumbles headlong into the public school. Notwithstanding his awkward entrance, 'tis odds but he makes a good version, and gains a bursary. The hall during the competi. tion presents a strange spectacle. Such a crowd of anxious faces -such a scratching of puzzled heads-such a desperate thumb. ing of dictionaries! There is a dead silence, broken only now and then by the solemn tread of a Professor leaving the hall-or the strange unnatural laughter of their black-robed conclave round the fireside. Candidates of all ages are there-from the cherrycheeked genteelly-dressed boy of ten-to the yellow-faced famished-looking country dominie of thirty-clad in a suit of rusty black. Nor is the appearance of the court-yard without less in

Later information speaks of Mr Cockburn as most likely to be the successful candidate.-E, L. J.

teresting, especially towards nightfall. The last competitor has by this time left the hall-the Professors are met to award the prizes -and the candidates and their friends are waiting to hear the result.-Below the lantern dimly gleaming, you may see some Buchan schoolmaster standing in the centre of a group of his pu. pils, carefully perusing their versions, and criticising them"that's a maxie, Geordie,"-(groan)-" well dune, Tam, that's eleganter,"-" Robie Smith, ye widdifu', ye have mispelt twa words in ae line,"-(groan), &c. &c. In another corner of the court, a crew of the more giddy and thoughtless are playing at hide and seek-and occasionally a stout birkie from Cromar is belabouring some of the "town's deevils," who have been carrying their practical jokes against him a little too far. After waiting till past midnight, the hall door opens-and forth stalks some good-natured Professor with a list. Then comes the chuckle of success, and the groan of disappointment-bright faces and heavy hearts. In a few minutes the court is cleared, and the door sternly closed in the staring face of some poor country fel. low, who can scarcely believe that he is not even in the list of merit-and that he must labour for another busy year, before he can don the red gown, and attain the honoured distinction of being a "Colliginer."-Aberdeen Magazine.

Theatrical Gossip." Henry VIII." has been re-produced at Covent-Garden.-Fanny Kemble as Queen Catherine: The Spectator is in ecstasies with her performance-the Atlas laudatory -the Literary Gazette dubious-and the Examiner downright abusive. This young lady was preposterously puffed at first, and will soon be as preposterously undervalued. Whether she shall be made or marred, is in her own hands. The stage requires a long apprenticeship, and hers is only commencing. If, awakened from the intoxication of her first applause, she break loose from the trammels of a school, and rely upon the feeling and judgment she possesses, there is no actress on the boards comes near to what she may one day become.-Miss Inverarity stands accused of having latterly displayed an ill-directed ambition in her style of singing. Drury Lane offers nothing new, save a Miss Field from Bath, who has appeared as Lucinda in "Love in a Vil. lage.". At the Adelphi, they have had a skirmish with the "Lions of the Mysore" already. Reeve is the hero-lion, Wil. kinson the tiger, Buckstone the ghost of the kangaroo, Mrs Fitzwilliam the wild cat, and Yates the manager and boaconstrictor, embracing the menagerie in his ample folds-At the Olympic, Madame Vestris has been treating the pit to an extempore scold. The critics are threatening to get up "The Taming of the Shrew."-Now that the great theatres give nothing but melodramas-" dumb show, and inexplicable noises for the groundlings "the minors have received the legitimate drama within their sheltering arms. Dowton is at present at the Coburg, and, with his assistance, the "Rivals," "John Bull," and the "Hypocrite," have been well got up. At the New City," Douglas," and some operas, have been produced with success. The Pavilion has pitched its tent in the "far east," and the Garrick occupies the haunts of "the last of (London) men." There is said to be considerable talent and correct acting among the performers-well-conducted machinery-and tolerable plays. What is more to the purpose--the audience are well pleased.The Cheltenham establishment, long in a declining condition, is defunct at last. About a week ago, the principal comic actor took his benefit, and had about L.20 in the house. This was too great a bait for the manager's honesty, so he gulped it down, and, like a huge salmon, darted off-rod, line, hooks and all. He was pur sued and overtaken; but he again effected his escape, and has not since been heard of. The inhabitants are endeavouring to console his disconsolate company.

WEEKLY LIST OF PERFORMANCES.

October 29-November 4.

REVIEWS in our next of "Kennedy on Cholera Morbus," "Taylor's History of the Wars in Ireland," "Gray's Social System," &c.

"Poets Omitted by Southey. No. L," "Prospectus of a Gram. mar and Dictionary of the Unknown Tongue," "Old Hallowe'en," "Interview with Hamilton Rowan," &c. &c. next week, if possible.

The Tribunal of Three, commonly called the Court of Decorum, are ready to receive all complaints respecting such injuries as fall within their jurisdiction.

LITERARY CRITICISM.

The History of the Contagious Cholera; with Facts explanatory of its Origin and Laws, and of a rational Method of Cure. By James Kennedy, member of the Royal College of Surgeons, London. 8vo. Pp. 291. London. Cochrane and Co. 1831.

THE Cholera, like a stage king, does not seem disposed to make his appearance on our boards till after a sufficiently impressive flourish of trumpets. In addition to the regular orchestra, all the prompters, scene-shifters, and call-boys, have been put in requisition, and thus the whole musical strength of the company, applying their instruments to their lips at once, have blown a blast so loud and dread,

"Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe!" His majesty, however, still lingers rather unaccountably behind the scenes; the audience begins to get impatient; and in this dilemma the "musical strength" magnanimously repeat the flourish of trumpets, and then-" one flourish more."

In common, we presume, with every man of the most ordinary capacity, we read with mingled feelings of astonishment and anger the official proclamation issued in the Government Gazette by the authority of the Board of Health. That a few old women, before a single case of cholera had appeared in the united realm, should plunge into all the chronicles of the plague, as it has developed itself, either in the swarming hotbeds of Egypt, or in the unwholesome huddle of old London, and, selecting the most obnoxious and semi-barbarous enactments to which it has given rise, should intimate that they were again to be put in force, not only in the crowded and dense metropolis, but in every town and village throughout the country, is a matter which calls for the most indignant reprobation. Is it to be tolerated, that half a score grey-headed wiseacres should thus presume, not only to "fright the isle from its propriety," but to cut asunder at one blow all domestic charities, and all social amenities? Is man, at their bidding, to look with suspicion and aversion on his brother man? Is the business of life to stand still,-and is the unhappy individual who may happen to be seized with a few spasmodic affections, to be shut out at once from the influence of all other affections? We are to be fed, too, like dogs! Our meat is to be laid down before our doors, and we may carry it in if we can! Guards are to be stationed round our habitations, and the red mark of the plague written legibly on their front! All egress and ingress is to be alike forbidden; and hope, the cherub that for ever flits round the curtains of the sick-bed, will, "for a season, bid the world farewell!" We should like to see the magistracy, or the civil or military force, that would attempt to carry a scheme like this into execution. There may be such a phenomenon as a few antiquated physicians without hearts, but the men and women who inhabit the land still possess these things.

Now,

Besides, all this extravagant barbarism takes for granted not only the introduction of the cholera into Great Britain, but its introduction in the very worst and most virulent form which it has yet assumed. there are many skilful and sensible men who doubt, for various reasons, that it will ever come here at all; and there are a still greater number who believe, that if it does, it will be of a mild, and, generally speaking, by no means dangerous description. One thing is clear, that hitherto its ravages have always been most formidable where it found great masses of human beings congregated together in highly unfavourable circumstances. Thus, when it fell upon armies exposed to all the fatigue of tedious marches or unhealthy bivouacks,—when it entered the close narrow streets of Eastern cities, choked up with every phasis of squalid misery,—or when it got among the thickly-hung hammocks of an overcrowded ship, its breath was fatal, and the touch of its finger death. But in more healthy situations and happier climates it has trod lightly, and excited little or no alarm. It is, moreover, unquestionably true, that the nearer it has come to our own shores, the milder have been its operations. It seems to be exhausting itself. In Hindostan, its devastations were greatest; in Persia, it was much less felt; in Russia, the armies marching to and from Warsaw, of course, suffered severely, and spread the disease over the whole country; at Vienna, it was not so bad as at St Petersburg; at Berlin, it was milder than at Vienna; and at Hamburg, it seems to be scarcely more felt than a common influenza. The cholera may thus be likened to a cannon-ball, which is most deadly when directed against a crowd, and travels with a rapidity and force, diminishing in exact proportion to its distance from the starting point.

In yet stronger confirmation of the absurdities which the soi-disant Board of Health declare themselves ready to perpetrate, it must not be forgotten that the very best authorities are still at issue as to whether this disease be contagious or epidemic. Nay, we may go farther, and state that the very best authorities have never been able very clearly to define what the precise difference is between a contagious and epidemic disease. In its original and most limited acceptation, the former epithet applies only to such bodily ailment as can be communicated by touch; but with the exception of one complaint, generally supposed to be peculiarly Scotch, and another more widely known, and most incident to the young and thoughtless, we are not aware of any with regard to which the application of the word contagion is confined within so narrow limits. The Egyptian plague, smallpox, typhus fever, and other diseases, are not communicated by tact alone, but, as is now allowed on all hands, may be transmitted through the medium of the atmo sphere. It is generally supposed that in these cases the disease infects the atmosphere by the poisonous particles which it infuses into it, and that it is likely to be caught by a third person, when a sufficient quantity of these particles are inhaled by him, or attach themselves to his body. But the degree of subtlety possessed by these noxious exhalations, human ingenuity has hitherto vainly

tried to discover. It is maintained by naturalists that the germs of plants are carried through the air, and over the sea for hundreds of miles, and falling at length on remote islands, account for the similarity of the vegetable productions there existing to those of the nearest continent. Why may we not suppose the transmission from place to place of minute poisonous particles to be regulated by similar laws? And thus every disease which is contagious in the place where it originally occurs, may break out as an epidemic in other places nearer or farther off, according to circumstances. It should also be remembered, that whenever a new disease starts up, marked by a diagnosis which sufficiently distinguishes it from all those formerly known, it cannot, in the first instance, have arisen from contagion. It must have been the operation of some atmospheric influence on the peculiarly constituted frame of the first patient that gave birth to it in his person. Afterwards, his presence may so impregnate the air in his immediate vicinity, that all who pass through it may run an imminent hazard of sharing his malady. But if it has come to one without contagion, why may it not come to a hundred-to thousands? By allowing some weight to this supposition, we should be the better able to account for the rapid spreading of certain diseases which multiply themselves in a mathematical as well as an arithmetical ratio.

We suspect, after all, that the controversy is one more of words than of facts. We venture the assertion, that most contagious diseases will, sooner or later, become also epidemic, in consequence of the quantity of contagion which will infuse itself into the air; and, on the other hand, that many epidemic diseases are, in their nature, likewise contagious. In as far as regards cholera, we conceive there is sufficient evidence to show, that at certain times and in certain places it is contagious, and that at other times and places its origin cannot be traced to any contagion, except that which must have been communicated through the air, in which cases the disease is of course epidemic. To this statement, however, we must also add, that in as far as the documents yet given to the public enable us to judge, we are inclined to think that the disease, in the great majority of cases, is to be attributed to the state of the atmosphere, rather than to what is commonly called contagion. By admitting, nevertheless, that it possesses both an epidemic and contagious character, we get rid at once of all the difficulties in which we should otherwise be involved, by the extremely contradictory evidence of responsible medical men, who have themselves watched its rise and progress, and reported concerning it, according to the best of their belief.

In Mr Kennedy's interesting work, which we have just perused with much attention, one of the most important sections consists of " Abstracts taken from the Medical Reports compiled in India, by order of the Government.' Of these there are a great variety, and it is almost ludicrous to observe how completely, upon the point of contagion, the doctors differ from each other. "I have had no reason to say that the cholera has been contagious at this place," says Surgeon Jukes. "Neither myself nor any of my assistants, who have been constantly amongst the sick, nor any of the hospital attendants, have had the disease. It has not gone through families here when one has been affected." tagious character of cholera," says Surgeon Chapman, on the other hand, "seems to have been observed by the natives themselves, and therefore it commonly happens that the sick are generally avoided by those who are not called upon as an act of duty to attend. The village where cholera prevails, is usually evacuated for a short period, that the contagion may be destroyed." Again, "It strikes me," says Surgeon Mitchell," that the cholera must have been propagated through the atmosphere, much in the same way as intermittent and remittent fevers. When cholera was most virulent, the

"The con

We

weather was close and sultry, and during the day the sun was obscured by whitish clouds. Had contagion been concerned in the production of cholera, we should have looked for it in the direction of the roads. should also have expected to meet it in our hospital; as at first I was obliged, for want of room, to put the cholera cases among the other sick." The result of the whole is, that cholera exists; but whether it be a contagious or an epidemic disease, or both, is not yet ascertained.

Leaving, then, these less profitable enquiries, we come to the question, whether, supposing cholera once fairly introduced into this country, it will turn out a highly dangerous disease? We have no hesitation in stating our belief that it will not. Its nature seems now to be pretty well understood, and if taken in time, it is commonly cured without much difficulty. "Among the better classes," says Dr Taylor, in his Report to the Bombay Medical Board, many individuals have been also attacked, but a very small proportion has died where assistance was timely procured." "The following is an illustration," says Surgeon Daw, "of what care and temperance can perform in the way of preserving Europeans from the attacks of the cholera. Two bodies of men, one amounting to 300, the other to 100 persons, were located in adjoining situations when the cholera arrived. smaller body immediately determined to live temperately, and, by avoiding the night air and the other predisposing circumstances which were obvious, to endeavour to escape the distemper. The plan succeeded so well, that only one individual was seized of the one hundred. The larger body adopted no precaution. They lived in their usual way, and one-tenth of their whole number perished.”— "I am led to consider the disease infectious," says Surgeon Coats. "Taking this opinion, however, to be well founded, it ought not to occasion much alarm, for it is only under some peculiarity of constitution the poison is enabled to act, and that peculiarity is fortunately very limited; in our camp about one in forty was infected; and I believe this is above the common proportion."

The

The treatment which has hitherto proved most successful consists in bleeding, either preceded or immediately followed by a pretty strong dose of calomel, and from forty to sixty drops of laudanum. To these more important medicines are added ether, and hot-spiced drinks, together with counter-irritants to the region of the stomach. Mr Kennedy has also pointed out, with great distinctness and sound sense, the different stages of the disease, in which the application of the medicines must be modified according to circumstances. We recommend this part of his volume to the mature consideration of all practitioners. There could scarcely be a grosser error than to treat a patient in the last stage as if the malady were just beginning, or vice versa. There is another error to which Mr Kennedy does not allude, but which is also, we conceive, to be particularly guarded against. It must not be taken for granted, that the cholera will attack every one with the same degree of virulence; and that, consequently, the same quantity of blood must be drawn in every case, and the same quantity of calomel and laudanum administered. The doses which should be given in severe cases, would be enough to destroy the patient who was more gently affected.

That our readers may have some notion of the usual symptoms and treatment of the cholera in India, we extract, from the volume before us, a part of the report of Mr R. Orton, surgeon:

"I am extremely happy to have it in my power to bear testimony, in the strongest terms, to the efficacy of blood-letting in the treatment of cholera. In four cases it failed, but in all of these the severe symptoms had been established, from five to thirteen hours before admission. In thirty-two others, I have seen bleeding followed by rapid cures, though in fifteen of these the second stage had commenced. In none has it been

Catherine II. Having detailed the events of their lives, she sums up the evidence on either side, and states her conclusion with due gravity in the preface. There is something at once novel and delightful in this Irish ἕτερον προτερον. We know perfectly the end of our drive before we set out, and are, therefore, quite at our ease on this score, and prepared to loiter with delight among the wild and varied scenes through which Mrs Jameson guides us. What an improvement it would be upon some tragedies we could name, were the denouement thus placed at the beginning! How often have we been rendered insensible to the very best starts and gestures of the actors by our anxiety to know the upshot!

66

In regard to the conclusion at which Mrs Jameson really arrives, it is briefly and pithily expressed in her motto," Nous sommes faites," it is la Citoyenne Roland who speaks, pour embellir le monde, plutôt que pour le commander." We cannot assent to this. Even our young remembrance bears indelibly the impression of more than one female who was useful as well as ornamental. And as to commanding, we can scarcely recall to our recollection one establishment, certainly no wellregulated one, in which, to use the elegant language of the fancy-the hen-bird is not cock of the walk. Jameson has coloured the cases highly upon which she founds her theory, and, after all, they do not bear her out. The catalogue of weak and vicious female sovereigns which she has scraped together, does not prove the sex incapable of rule-it only shows that they must wield the sceptre after a different fashion from men.

Mrs

Candidly speaking, our opinion-an opinion which nothing can shake-is, that female ascendency is the order of nature. The petticoat is the ensign of awful rule and right supremacy, which floats triumphant from pole to pole. To say that a lady wears the-inexpressibles, is a foolish and inaccurate figure of speech; her own petticoat is a much more expressive symbol. We remember at this moment a case strictly in point. One Petruchio married a lady named Catherine, who, not content with ruling her spouse, wished the world to know it. This was contrary to etiquette, and he, of course, rebelled; but his victory cost him a hard struggle. It is not, however, to this part of his history, but to a subsequent event, that we refer, which may be found written in Shakspeare's choicest English. Some of his friends presumed one day to jeer him upon his wife's ascendency, when, for a slight bet, he proved that their neat shoes pinched their corns more grievously than his loutish sabot.

The German expression for female rule has a more imposing sound than ours. They say of an obedient husband, that he is unter dem pantoffel-he is under the slipper. There is something picturesque and graphic in the notion of a wife whipping off her shoe, to hammer wit into her husband's head with the heel. But vivid images may not be confounded with truths, otherwise Idolatry must be held the true religion. Woman's power lies in the intoxicating influence of an invisible emana

tion.

We cannot sit beside her, and look in her eyes, and listen to her voice, and refuse her any thing. If she assume command, the spell is broken-nay, absence has been known to endanger her supremacy-but inert resistance to the husband's desire, and frequent iteration of her own wish, insure her all she wants. Beneath the glance of Omphale, the strong-strung sinews of Hercules thawed, and he tumbled down unnerved on his Nemean hide. Woman witches us to her will without our being aware of it. Oh, no; it is not in the rude application of the slipper that the spell lies-it is in the petticoat in seeming helplessness-real power.

"But this does not prove that woman is fit to govern empire!" Has empire ever been governed but by woman? Every man and mother's son is governed by Every emperor is a man. Argal, every empire is governed by woman. And so of minor dignities,

woman.

Mrs Jameson's catalogue is a catalogue of exceptions, and the reason of their failure may easily be pointed out. Misled by a foolish figure of speech, the ladies in question assumed the breeches, and with their petticoats their strength left them, as surely as Samson's departed along with his hair,

THE NOVELIST.

The Romance of History.-Italy. By Charles Macfarlane. In three volumes. London. Edward Bull. 1832.

The Affianced One. By the Author of "Gertrude." In three volumes. London. Edward Bull. 1832. The False Step. And The Sisters. In three volumes,

London. Edward Bull. 1832.

And

THE novel season having commenced, it will be impossible for us to clapperclaw each individual novel for the rest of the winter in true critical fashion. yet, as our Journal is chiefly addressed to those respectable and philosophic members of society, who, like ourselves, never make any exertion which they possibly can avoid,-who are consequently not unfrequently the slaves of ennui, and always on the look-out for something to pass the time,—we should ill discharge our duty did we not take care to give them the earliest information of every new appearance in that class of books, the perusal of which Coleridge has, with equal ceremony and politeness, likened to an intellectual swinging backwards and forwards on a gate. Under the head of "The Novelist," therefore, the reader may in future look for brief notices of all such novels as do not, by their internal merit, stand out from their caste. We have appointed half-a-dozen of the oldest and most indefatigable novelreaders in town-chosen after a rigid impartial scrutiny of the books of all the circulating libraries-to be our caterers. Their lucubrations are submitted for our editorial approval, pruned, condensed-your novel-reader generally affects a diffuse style-and, when there seems any danger of mistake, revised. Our critiques, therefore, however short, must be regarded as dispassionate and approfondis. Our "Novelist" will be found to be the best catalogue raisonnée of British novels " and the allied species" yet published, and applicable to every circulating library in the empire. We have no room to-day to expatiate upon the characters of our doctores legentes, or the principles which guide us, or our ideal of a library, but shall illuminate the reader by degrees on these points as occasion offers. At present, we must turn to the three novelties which have just been reported by the Masters in our literary Chancery. We flatter ourselves, that in rapid despatch of business, we are not behind our esteemed brother on the woolsack-while in suavity, and careful avoidance of rash speeches, we are immeasurably his superior.

"The Romance of History" is a work constructed upon a principle much in vogue in the present day, and which may not unaptly be termed "writing made easy." A gentleman has travelled in a country not generally known, or he has read an old book with which few are acquainted; and conscious of the barrenness of his own imagination, he dresses up what he has seen or heard repeated," in the form of a work of fiction. Travellers of this class, are the moral antipodes of old Mandeville. He told lies with the solemn face and majestic bearing of history. They, with an attempt to assume the gay and riant air of fable, overwhelm us with a profusion of dull and melancholy facts. The romancers again are a sort of literary resurrection-men, digging up works that have solemnly been consigned to the tomb of all the Capulets, -or worse, pseudo-sorcerers, pretending to resuscitate, to animate with some spectral spell the ghastly and grinning corse. It is only hocus-pocus, however "there is no speculation in those eyes which it doth glare withal,"