300

Porson's Επιτάφιον τοῦ Αλέξιδος.

a pin to the side of the scaffold. If it was a horse, an ox, or any other crea ture, that was stolen, it was brought along with him to the place of execution, and fastened by a cord to the pin that stayed the block; so that when the time of execution came, which was known by the jurors holding up one of their hands, the bailiff or his servant whipping the beast, the pin was plucked out, and execution done. But if it was not done by a beast, then the bailiff or his servant cut the rope."-He illustrates this description by a rough draft, which I do not think it necessary to copy, as the account is sufficiently perspicuous without it, and more particularly as the picture gives as an exact representation of the modern guillotine.

I would, however, remark that deca-' pitation appears to have been the specifis punishinent of theft, where the article stolen exceeded a certain value, which, if I mistake not, is the case in France at the present day, murder and other capital felonies being, in many instances, subject to the ler talionis.

[May 1,

Dryden, " delivers the meanest of his
ing the clods, and tossing the dung about,
precepts with a kind of grandeur, break-
with an air of gracefulness," has, in his
Georgics, given us a highly poetical de-
scription of a most unpoetical instru-
ment-the plough. Allow me to con-
clude the present article by an equally
poetical illustration of the guillotine,
extracted from that piquant morceau,
the Loves of the Triangles:
To the pois'd plank tie fast the monster's
back,

Close the nice slider, ope th' expectant sack;
Then twitch with fairy hands the frolic pin,
Down falls th' impatient axe with deaf'ning

din,

The liberated head rolls off below,
And simp'ring Freedom hails the happy
blow!
ARCHEUS.

Oundle, March 13, 1815.

MR. EDITOR,

YOUR correspondent, James Elmes, refers, in your last number, (March 1, 1815,) to Porson's exquisite Err T Αλέξιδος. The majority of your readers may not, perhaps, be displeased to see it transcribed from No. 5, of the Classical Journal.

Since, then, the antiquity of the instrument in question, as a British mode of inflicting death, is so undeniably established, and therefore our anti-revolu-, TOUT BOTAS BioDgãs TáQ01, tionary prejudices need not take alarm Ἴσθ ̓ ὡς τόδ' ἔνδον σῶμ ̓ Αλέξιδος νέου, at the suggestion, and since the ends of ψυχρόν παραγχάλισμα Ταρτάρου στέγει, penal justice are answered by the death Μολπης γλυκυτάτης αἱμυλώτερος φρενας, of the offender, without any prolonga- Οὐδ' ἂν πάρωσε τὸν φιλανθρωπον τρόπον, Οὐδ ̓ ἦν ἀθαλπος Κύπριδος τερπνῷ βέλει, tion of bodily suffering, I would earnestly Αρθμόν θ' ἑταίρων ἀλλ ̓ ἑκὼν ἄλσος κατα recommend, and were I gifted with the Εκουσαν ἠζήτησε Μοῦσαν Χρηστότης eloquence of Sir S. Romilly, I would ́Eyex magacraç' aiʼgerai re, xai nakai employ it to the utmost in urging upon Χάριτες συνωμίλησαν, εἶτα τὸν φίλον the consideration of our legislature, the ποθοῦ σ' ἐραστὴν δυσθράῳ μελωδία, re-adoption of this mode, instead of that Ov der bánλour" ngiva naige Blow now in use; as of all the ass id, it Edge Far' ́Adng" si0'ét' iv ¿wołowy hy! is, perhaps, that which least deserves the Εὐχὴ μάτην ἀς ̓, ὦ ξέν', ὧδε τὸ στόμα, character of πλημονεστάτη, (Eur. Med. v. 1063;) being both speedy in its execuΠέφευγεν· οὐ γὰρ οὐποτ ̓ εἰσόψει νέον· Τέθνηχ' ἰδή τάχιστα πάσχουσ' οἱ ἐγάθαι. tion, and unerring in its aim; infinitely more so at least than suspension by the cord, which in many well known instances (of which I might particularize that of Governor Wall) has lengthened out the dying agony to an extent that makes humanity shudder.

It is said that the tribunal of the Inquisition adopted the horrid punishment of burning alive, in order to avoid shedding the blood of the unhappy sufferer, and meriting the title of a sanguinary court;-but the spirit of English legislation revolts at the meanness of sheltering its decrees of death under such a quibble.

Virgil, who, according to the welldeserved encomium of his translator

ET

ful composition was produced during It ought to be added that this beautithe short interval allowed at the exami nation for a Craven scholarship, in the year 1781.

MR. EDITOR,

A.

of an article of mine, that you consider FEELING from your ready insertion the drama well worthy of your attention, I make no apology for again addressing to you the result of some observations on that subject, requesting their insertion in your improving miscel lany.

against our theatrical managers that It has been long a cause of complain¤ they have, with a blind incredulity.

1815.]

On the Revival of Shakspeare's Richard II.

real merit, served up the most ill-assorted fare, culled from ill-cultivated sources, to their benefactors the public; rather than take the trouble, and incur the expense, a revival would lay them under, of seeking in the strong-soiled and luxuriant fields of our earlier and never equalled masters of the British drama those bouquets of refreshing fragrance and invigorating quality with which they are filled. At length, however, the dream of folly, and waking thoughts of parsimony, seem to be dispelling by the sun of real taste and sound judgment, and we may venture to hope that ere long such ill-arranged things as for a long period usurped the prerogative of the regular drama, will sink into harmless nothingness, and their situations be filled by the treasures of Shakspeare, and of those like Shakspeare. Whether this regeneration arises from the managers, or whether the extraordinary talents of a performer in conjunction with the notto-be-mistaken taste of the public, have compelled them to the action, it does not materially affect us to inquire: we know our stage is improving: and however shrewdly we may form our ideas of the cause, it would not materially advance and advantage such improvements by stating them. The once unambitious, yet now improving school-boy, is not told he owes his advancement to the coercion inflicted upon him, but to his own instinctive and enterprising spirit.

The above ideas occurred on witnessing, on Thursday the 9th of March, the revival of Shakspeare's Richard II.; a play which has for a very long time been suffered to rest almost unnoticed and forgotten upon the shelves of our libraries, excepting by the discerning few who behold beauties where the careless man never would. At length, however, a better taste and more liberal ideas prevailing, it is recalled to use, to notice, to admiration; and it is really a great imputation on the judgment of those who fix our theatrical exhibitions, and who should be well qualified for the task, that this was not done earlier; for, notwithstanding a good deal of useless matter, and a general heaviness pervading the piece, it abounds in beauties sufficient to atone for ten times as many faults, and possesses interest enough to excite the curiosity and praise of any one boasting the slightest pretension to feeling and judgment. The Drury-lane Committee of Management having now thought the same, I eagerly employ myself in noticing the degree of commen

301

dation to which they are entitled for the manner in which their part of the task has been completed.

The pruning-hook and grafting-knife have been much handled, and generally with skill and effect; the ancient stalk wanted pruning of some useless branches, and, to render it sightly and productive, stood in need of some new and vigorous support: both the one and the other have been attempted with success by the literary gardeners; and the object of their skill, and (in some measure) experiment, I have no doubt, will produce fruit pleasing to all, and profitable to themselves. To drop the metaphor-The play has undergone considerable alteration, with but few exceptions, materially for the better; much unnecessary, and in no way connecting description and character, such as the personages of the Duchesses of York and Gloucester, are entirely abandoned; to make up for which, extracts from other performances of the same magic pencil are inserted, in themselves more inviting and appropriate than those whose situation they fill. The Queen, in the original but an insignificant personage, is now interesting, effective, noble; the character of Bolingbroke is also judiciously shewn, and prolonged to a greater extent; and, in fine, the predictions of many, that a total failure of the promised revival, from the dullness of the materials, would inevitably take place, have been rendered by the attention, management, and taste of the revivers, vain and nugatory. The managers have also, for once, shewn a just sense of the duty they owe to the public, and of the pleasure that public expects to receive from a representation like the present, by placing as much talent as their green-room would afford in the various personages of the drama: the consequence is, that palpable mistake, inefficient action, and ill studied delivery, do not so often occur. All that could appears to have been done; and although there is still something to be wished, there is little to be regretted. The characters of Bolingbroke, Norfolk, Gaunt, and York, received from their representatives all we could expect: Mrs. Bartley as the Queen deserved every commendation.

Here, perhaps, I ought to conclude; but though I may be usurping your office as a critic, I must beg a few more lines to thank Mr. Kean for the gratification he afforded me in witnessing the display of his wonderful abilities: it was, indeed, a feast for reason, an effort of excel

302

Boarding Schools-Pancras Church-Yard.

[May 1,

lence, an exertion of intellect, I despair of ever seeing surpassed. Had you seen, Sir, (as no doubt you did see,) the workings of contending passions of fading hope, of increasing fear, the struggle of príde, the shame of defeat, the air of studied courtesy, and the desperate look of fixed contempt in his countenancethe expansion of nature and intellect in the electric glance of his eye; and if you had noticed (as no doubt you did notice) with what earnestness the most prominent parts of the character were embodied and delivered with how much strength and judgment the nervous language of Shakspeare was studied and developed and, in fine, with what a correctness, and with how just concep tion, the whole was placed before our eyes and our ears-I do not fear the hazard of your telling me that the actor has" overstepped the modesty of na- On Mrs. SARAH GORDON, aged 36; died ture" by his exertions, or I the beauty of truth in recording them. March 21, 1815.

covered with clay. Bones of all descriptions, and fragments of coffins, are spread over the ground; a number of familytombs are either uncovered, or broken in such a manner, as to convince me, that the hand of carelessness alone was the despoiler. In fact, the whole place displays the most unseemly inattention to that decency and order which should always be observed in a place where rest the remains of the good and the illustrious.

MR. EDITOR,

S. W. X. Z.

AS the father of a large family, and anxious to give my children an education suitable to the circumstances of life in which I am placed, I confess that my wishes are seriously opposed by the growing, and almost unlimited charges at the boarding schools, alike for my girls, and my boys; and what is yet more aggravating, the frequent and extended holidays, of late years so looked for and encouraged by these seminaries. The former evil may rectify itself by competition; the latter is one of which the community at large has great reason to complain; so important indeed do I consider the subject, that I present it to your correspondents as one which, if ably discussed, could not fail materially to benefit the cause of virtue and national prosperity. I am, &c. C. I.

This church-yard must be an object of curiosity to travellers, as many unfortunate foreign noblemen lie buried there. What then must be the indignation of their countrymen, when they behold the disgusting and mutilated condition of their last earthly habitations! C. F. WEBB.

Dec. 8, 1810.

"O thou, with whom my heart was wont to share

From early dawn, each pleasure and each

care,

With whom, alas! I fondly hoped to know
The humble walks of happiness below,-
If thy blest nature now unites above,
Still o'er my life preserve thy mild controul,
An angel's pity with an angel's love,
Correct my views, and elevate my soul;
Grant me thy peace and purity of mind,
Devout, yet cheerful-active, yet resigned;
Grant me, like thee, (whose heart knew no
disguise,

Whose blameless wishes never aim'd to rise)
To meet the changes, time and chance pre-

rest,

Thy meek submission to thy God exprest;
When thy last look, ere thought and feeling
fled,

A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed,
What to thy soul its glad assurance gave-
Its hope in death-its triumph o'er the grave!
The sweet remembrance of unblemish'd
youth-

The still-inspiring voice of innocence and
truth!

If thou who view'st this humble stone,
The pangs of widow'd love hast known;
If thou with sorrow's streaming eye
Hast seen thy heart's fond partner die,
Palely declining to the tomb;
Hast witness'd beauty's fairest bloom
Worth such as heavenly natures share;
And love which sooth'd thy ev'ry care;
If thou, of such delights bereft,
Art sad and solitary left-
Thou pity's tear for him wilt shed
Who mourns these excellencies dead.

Original Letter of Sir Isaac Newton.

304

Rev. Mr. Scraggs on Reading and Recitation.

mind; and if well suited, they ought not to be too long, must be often read over in private to be well understood, and animate you by being felt. Hence it is evident, how highly necessary good natural sense and extensive reading are, in order to read properly, as a retentive memory is needful to recite well. Much pains must also be taken in the delivery, that it may be suited to every part, quite easy and graceful.-2. Nicely distinguish cach different part in a piece. On examination, observe not only its peculiar diction, and the figures of speech introduced, but how far it is intermixed, or whether only one subject and in one strain. If wholly narrative, deliver it in a deliberative easy way, as if you were telling a judicious story: should it be didactic, pronounce it distinctly, as if you were instructing a son: if pathetic, the feelings must be exercised, but they inust be kept in order, and affectation avoided. When the subject is descriptive, conceive it in your imagination, and endeavour to represent the different scenes before the mental eyes of your hcarers; if argumentative, reason with force and dignity, rather slowly, with proper pauses; and when humorous, deliver it in a pleasant manner, making the particular turns of wit or humour easily distinguished, by being well touched. Should the strain of the piece be any of the above intermixed, the modulation of your voice must be changed, and naturally varied accordingly.-3. Begin with easy pieces. To read, and especially to recite well, any passages from Milton, Young, or Thomson, in genteel company, requires a taste for blank verse, as well as extensive reading and much practice; so it may be also said of delivering extracts, in peculiar metre, from any lyric poet, and indeed of many pieces in prose by Dr. Johnson, and eastern tales in general: such, therefore, as are not complete English scholars, and well qualified as to their voice and delivery, had much better begin and continue some time with pieces from Murray's English Reader, or Pinnock's Explanatory Reader; as their examples are gradually progressive, and generally in good language. Very lately two judicious selection of pieces, with rules for recitation, have been published: one by Mr. Ewing, and the other by Mr. Wright. As to good readers who confine themselves to prose, they may find many excellent pieces in the British Essayists, 45 vols. 12mo., or in the Christian Classics, 2 vols. 12mo.-4. Attend strictly

[May 1,

to punctuation and pronunciation. The usual grammatical stops and marks must be observed, especially in blank verse; and persons of taste, in some parts of a piece, will make additional rests and particularly striking pauses. As to pronunciation, we ought to avoid that which is in the least degree vulgar or provin cial; also guard against that which is irregular; and likewise watch lest we get into a monotony, which is a dull uniform way of pronouncing and reading. As this is a very common fault in many preachers, public speakers, and readers, happy are those who by a nice ear can avoid it, or that have some wellqualified hearers to inform them when first getting into a monotony, before it becomes a habit. With respect to a proper accent, emphasis, and various inflections of voice, they may be acquired by hearing the best speakers in the senate, the theatre, or the bar. Also keeping company with genteel welleducated people is a considerable help towards attaining a just articulation and the management of the voice. But in the country, where all those helps are not to be had, a person of taste, with a delicate ear, by often consulung Walker's Pronouncing Dictionary, may in time become correct in pronunciation.— 5. Avoid all improper tones, and reading too fast or too slow. Some in reciting poetry use a sing-song tone, and others in reading religious productions get into that which is whining and canting, both of which are highly disgusting. There are many also, who either give an improper tone to the last word in most sentences, or altogether drop it. Many at the beginning of a subject or sentence pitch too high or too low, which they are not able afterwards to alter, and it leads to other errors in the delivery. These faults may be avoided by beginning and proceeding in your own natural voice, and reading or reciting no louder than is necessary to be distinctly and audibly heard by every one in the room. But previous to the recital of any piece, where there is not the assistance of a living tutor, the speaker ought to repeat it aloud to himself before a large glass: in doing this, he should pay attention to graceful attitudes of body, and expressive variations of countenance, and especially to avoid any unpleasant looks, which otherwise he might have inrecitation before company. 6. Save your breath in reading, but especially in reciting. This indeed could always be done by reading or reciting very slowly;