Kelly was settled at Vienna for a considerable time. During his stay there, a circumstance occurred which strongly speaks the equal justice administered by the officers of the law, and the inflexible impartiality of the Emperor, in allowing its sentences to take place without regard to the rank of the culprit. Kelly having got into the intimate acquaintance of a young nobleman, the son of Prince P who had been governor of Gratz, a young man affable and accomplished, but wild and dissipated; he was returning with him from a dinner at one of the public gardens; they were stopped by the Lieutenant of the Police, and the Count was lodged in prison. . He had been guilty of a forgery, was convicted, and sentenced to a terrible punishment, namely, to sweep the streets of Vienna, along with other unfortunate wretches convicted of crimes. Often, as I have been walking, (says Kelly,) I have met this unfortunate man, with his head shaved, wearing a paper cap, and a jacket of coarse cloth, chained, with a large log tied to his leg, and a broom in his hand, actually sweeping the crossways with other felons. Those unfortunate wretches, after they have sweeped the streets for a limited period, as an example, are chained in couples, and compelled to drag barges on the Danube. Every interest was made to save him; the Princess Ln, to whom he was nearly related, then in a most critical state of health, threw her. self upon her knees before the Emperor to procure his pardon; but His Majesty was inflexible, and said, that “if he had a son who had been guilty of the same crime, he should undergo the same punishment." This event made an awful impression on me, and it was long before my spirits recovered the shock. He mentions a laudable propensity as universal at Naples, which, in this country, even now, when sobriety is more the fashion than formerly, will surprise the reader. It is remarkable, (says Kelly,) that not. withstanding the vices of these people, and the extraordinary cheapness of wine, I never, during my sojourn there, witnessed a single instance of intoxication. One extraordinary anecdote to confirm this, he tells of a nobleman, wno, having murdered another in a fit of jealousy, was condemned to death. But his life was offered him, on the sole condition of his saying, that when he committed the deed he was intoxicated. He received the offer with disdain, and exclaimed, that he would rather suffer a thousand deaths than bring eternal disgrace on his family, by confessing the disgraceful crime of intoxication. He persisted, and was executed! Among the theatrical anecdotes, he records the last appearance of Mrs Siddons, and a circumstance attending it is equally honourable to that great actress and the audience; Lady Macbeth divinely, and looked as The play was Macbeth; she acted beautiful as ever. After her sleeping scene was concluded, the audience unanimously called for the curtain to drop, and would not allow the play to finish a marked and just compliment to the most splendid actress the British stage ever possessed, and where private character has little less contributed to the ex altation of the profession which she her public talents. adorned than the unrivalled greatness of Kelly mentions the introduction of Miss Mellon on the stage; She was engaged at Drury-Lane, (he says,) and proved herself a valuable acquisition to our dramatic corps. She was a handsome girl, and much esteemed, and in gratitude I feel called upon to say, that both as Miss Mellon and Mrs Coutts, I have received from her the most mark ed and friendly attention, and am happy to have it in my power thus publicly to express my acknowledgments. It is indeed a commendable trait in this lady's character, never to forget, amidst her present elevation, either early days. the profession or the friends of her Of another well-known character he speaks with well-founded praise for his sagacity and acuteness; as 524 Additional Notice of the Reminiscences of Michael Kelly. well as for another quality which it is but fair to mention his benefi cence to a distressed order of persons whom the French Revolution made dependent on his bounty. We allude to the Duke of Queensberry, who fell upon an ingenious contrivance of giving the French emigrants, who dined with him, the entrée to the opera without which their unfortunate circumstanany expense, ces would not have otherwise allow ed, and, at the same time, with a delicacy for their feelings, which is always the best accompaniment of beneficence. He pretended that he had purchased the privilege of giving tickets, and gave as many as his guests required for the evening when they dined with him. Another trait of the Duke he states of a more selfish kind, but it strongly points out the sagacity of the Duke, and we give it as a hint to deaf people. He told Kelly at one of their tête-à-tête dinners, that, being by that time very deaf, he never invited more than one guest, who was thus constrained to talk to him, or to hold his tongue. When more persons were at table, they talked to one another, which his deafness made awkward to his Grace, who could not hear the conversation. We are glad to mention one musical dictum, sanctioned not only by the opinion of Kelly, but by that of some of the greatest musical companies of his time,-that melody is the principal charm, and ought to be the leading principle of musical composition. This flatters us from May the egotistic consideration of its be ing our own decided opinion, in opposition to the principle of some great counterpointists, and the performance of many of these scholars. I cannot here omit quoting, (says Kelly,) what the immortal Haydn has mentioned on the subject of melody; he said it is the air which is the charm of music, and it is that which it is most difficult to produce; patience and study are suffisounds, but the invention of a fine melody cient for the composition of agreeable is the work of genius; the truth is, a fine air needs neither ornament nor accessories in order to please;would you know whether it really be fine, sing it without accompaniments. Arne used to give as the surest test nefit of our fair countrywomen, an- If a continuation, or second edithink it would be an improvement tion, of this book be published, we if a good index were annexed to it, and a division made in the body of the title-page of each volume of the work, instead of separately, after chapters, with their subjects more particularly specified than they are in that prefatory table of contents. SHORT CHAPTER ON DEDICATIONS. YOUR Dedication is a marvellous piece of writing: it excelleth all other writings. It may travel back wards to the age of the Pharaohs, or it may anticipate the ninty-ninth century. It is confined to no spaceto no time, it is without limits. You may dedicate to the King, or to your own valet or washer-woman, -you may inscribe to your wife, (if you have one,) or to your monkey. You may be grave or gay, laudatory or satirical, lengthy or short, reasonable or nonsensical,-you may exhaust the vocabulary of human virtues, "and fancy more," or heap abuse upon abuse, till the bounds of mortal suffering are fairly broken down. Your Noble dedications, to titled boys or dotards, are generally poor read them what they contain. "His things. You can tell before you Lordship's high ancestry, and his Lordship's great virtues, and his Lordship's wonderful goodness.” Royal dedications are still worse,insufferably dull,-stiff, stately, stupid,-formal as a levee bow,-hearting as a state-paper. less as a royal friendship,-unmean Prose is more suitable than verse, -a rhyming dedication is a sad bore". To make the words jingle, consistency may be sacrificed, or a qualifica tion (a woeful qualification !) may be necessary. Sad is the state of a dedicator who ventures to qualify, 'tis to ruin his hopes for ever,it can never be forgotten nor forgiven. He must not know the word,-praise spurns it,-sarcasm abhors it. It is the only proscribed word in the Dictionary of a dedicator,-" pray you avoid it." The first rule in wit is an axiom in a Dedication. Brevity is its very soul. Our forefathers were great transgressors in this respect, espepecially if they were pious. They stickled not on fifty quarto pages, nay, they frequently inflicted a round hundred on the unfortunate dedicatee. Yet all this may be defended. 'Twas a trial of patience, and what better trial could prepare a man for digesting a learned treatise on polemical divinity? "Twas often more a summary of the work which followed it. This too was not without its use. The very devout reader secured a double dose, -he of gentler stomach lost little by confining himself to the Dedication. Sometimes its pretensions were of a more ambitious character; it started, and of course most satisfactorily refuted every objection which the most ingenious or the most malignant foe could possibly state to the work. To be sure, this was little better than forestalling the labours of the critics; but there were no critics in these days, and the reader was there fore obliged to the author for review ing his own work. Yet, sooth to say, notwithstanding all these advantages, a short dedication is much better than a long one; three lines, or, if possible, three words are quite enough. From the time of Cromwell to that of George the Third, a Dedica tion was frequently an author's passport to beg. The patron got praise according to his payment. This practice was attended with great inconvenience the praise was generally given on credit, and the patron's poverty or his dissatisfaction frequently rendered him unable or unwilling to pay. What then could the poor author do? If he abused the man he had loaded with encomium, who would believe him? If he remained silent, he was supposed to have received a payment he never saw. Besides, there have been many writers since, and doubt. less there were a few while it existed, who condemned the practice as disgraceful to literature. Perhaps these fellows are in the right; we have never heard, however, of any even of them refusing a present or a piece of good service from a patron. The excellence of a thing may be measured by its difficulty. According to this rule, a good Dedication must be excellent: it is the most difficult thing in literature. Hence also its rarity. The last century produced very few Dedications at all tolerable. Johnson alone could write a good Dedication, and he produced only one. Another good one did not appear. The same remark holds There are exceptions to this remark. I'll mention one, but it is a tickler. It is the dedication on the title-page of a MS. volume preserved in the Library of Glasgow University, and called "Christian Poems, for Spiritual Edification." This MS. volume was written by the famous Zachary Boyd, (who presented his Library to the College of Glasgow,) and must have cost him immense labour. It is corrected with evident care in almost every page, and seems to have been revised by its author more than once. Many writers have sneered at it-very probably they could not read it. I looked over many of its pages within the last six months, and was well pleased in various places. Zachary, to be sure, has a trick of calling persons and things by their right names, and modern refinement will not perhaps allow that this practice can be very conducive to "spiritual edification;" but is not his age more to be blamed than himself? That he was honest, seems to me certain-that he was bold, no man will deny who reads his dedication. true of the present times. Sir Walter himself, who can do every thing else, is but a bungler here. He has tried it in verse, but failed: his prose attempts will not pass muster. Moore can do nothing in this way Southey's Dedications are fit only for dishclouts Crabbe's for parish work houses-Wordsworth's for crazy pau- SIR JASPER GLENDEARN; A BORDER STORY. A FEW centuries ago there raged, between England and Scotland, almost perpetual dissensions and feuds, which had descended from the most ancient times, and were still deadly and unextinguished. The Borderers of both kingdoms could scarcely surpass each other in their deeds of lawless outrage, and shocking cruelty and inhumanity. When these ferocious freebooters had set out on their predatory excursions, they filled all the country around with terror and alarm; and scarcely any habitation, or trace of culture, survived their merciless ravages. Relentless, as they were, they spared none that fell into their hands; but all ranks, sexes, and ages whatever, in spite of their heart-rending supplications for mercy, were massacred in cold blood; while the war-cry of their savage foes was, "No mercy! no quarter! they are enemies." The times, indeed, were so stormy and perilous, that every one was in continual alarm and apprehension for the safe ty of his family and property. Travelling, too, was attended with excessive danger: the public roads were infested with vast numbers of marauders, who were roving about the country in quest of plunder, at the same time butchering all that fell into their power. Since none, therefore, had the rashness to meet them openly, they were compelled to travel in the most private by ways, and other tracts that were least known and frequented. But then the state of the times, and the manners of the people, may be best illustrated in the following short legend: gifts and devotions. They were both tall and athletic young men, and had already distinguished themselves by their feats of prowess in the Border fights, so that, being personally known to their enemies, they were always exposed to considerable peril; but they fearlessly pursued their solitary journey, reckless of every danger, or resolved to brave it to the utmost. It happened, once, that two Scotsmen, Hugh Latham and Roger Saxton, set out on a pilgrimage to St. Waltham's Priory, to offer at the shrine of that holy saint their pious their townland on They had set out from stormy December afternoon. Winter a dark and had set in with the greatest inclemeney; storms of drifting snow, and torrents of rain, accompanied with deep and rumbling peals of thunder, rendered travelling in such a season very disagreeable and dantwelve miles from the Holy Shrine, gerous. When they were about they were benighted on a bleak and lonely place, where they could disthem from the howling blast, which cover no cottage that could shelter still continued unabated in its violence. Every thing around, had a wild-like aspect. They were sur rounded on all sides with marshy tracts of heath, on which could not be seen a single tree, to screen them from the piercing cold of the north wind,-not even a shrub varied the tedious sameness of the barren landscape. As they wandered about, passing all the night amidst the very disconsolate at the prospect of a little distance. On approaching, snows, they perceived a small hut at they were much disappointed, when they found that it was only an uninhabited, wretched-looking hovel, in a very ruinous condition. The had almost uncovered the roof, and inclement storms of many a winter in several parts laid bare the walls, so that the place was filled with mud travellers was therefore by no means and water. The situation of our bettered, and they left the but, bit the old woman, in a tone of compasterly cursing their ill fortune. Ro- sion; "but I can't afford you shelger, who was far more patient and ter to-night, else I would be torn shrewder than his companion, re- piecemeal by my master, should he marked, that the farther they ad- discover that I opened his gates to vanced, the ground retained marks of strangers, and may hap his deadly culture, and was very much beaten ; foes." "Consider, my good dame," a sure sign, he added, of the neigh- exclaimed Roger, "how merciless is bourhood of some town or public the rage of the storm, and that we inn. He was not, indeed, mistaken, must doubtless perish, if we lie all for they soon found themselves traver night on this bare cold heath, amidst sing a deep glen, which was partly the deep snow: surely, if you have cultivated, and they had then the any compassion, and expect to die in heartfelt satisfaction of seeing at a peace, you must pity our hapless little distance a bright and stationary condition." "I do indeed pity you," light glimmering through some trees. replied the old woman; but were On making up to it, they found that I to receive you into the house, my it came from an old and stately master, who comes home early in mansion, turretted with small towers the morning, would certainly murder and battlements, but in a very dila- you, for he is a cruel, wicked man; pidated condition. It was obviously it would therefore be better to walk built more for security than comfort. on to the neighbouring townland, There were attached to it a great which is only three miles distant." many offices, which seemed, from "By my halidom!" cried Latham, their shattered, out-of-repair state," I have walked too much already, to have been frequently set on fire so that I am ready to sink under by the roving bands on the Border. fatigue and cold; admit me, then, I They could easily, however, have pray you, and you need not feel the been rebuilt, as they seemed to be least apprehension that we shall be new; but the proprietor was either discovered, for we shall proceed on too lazy, or else unable to do it. our journey as soon as we are reWhen they had come up to the freshed." The door was then opengate, Roger was prudently hesitating ed, and they could perceive, by the whether they should knock, as they light which the portress held in her might possibly fall into the hands of hand, that she was a very ancient enemies; but Latham, impatient of woman, of a pleasant and agreeable delay, and almost frozen with cold, countenance, but strongly marked without much ado, threw his spear with sorrow, and a settled melanchoat the portals with such violence, as ly. May all the saints bless you, he conceived would verily awake the good woman!" cried the warminmates, if asleep. Lights were seen hearted travellers as they entered; instantly flitting through the gal-"may you never experience what leries; and as they heard footsteps approaching, they fancied that every moment some armed men would be presented to their view. Their apprehensions were, however, soon set at rest, as they heard an old woman inquiring from within, "who they were? and why they disturbed her at such an untoward time of night?" They replied, that "they were two pilgrims, travelling to St. Waltham's Priory, but that, being benighted before they had gone half their journey, they would perish in the snows, if they did not obtain lodging for the night;" adding, "that she would be abundantly rewarded from their well-furnished scrip." * I don't want your money!” cried we have felt to-night, nor ever stand in want of relief!" The good dame curtsied, and led them into a large and capacious hall, well lighted, and warmed by a huge fire of wood. The walls of the room were covered with black tapestry, on which were painted a variety of figures, which had rather a gloomy tendency. Some parts of the cloth hung in tatters, and exposed to view the damp and naked walls, and the rest were covered with dust and cobwebs. The floor, which was laid with oak, was bloated with drops of the blood of a lately-slain anirnal. There was a large table in the midst of the room, covered for fifteen persons, and a fine haunch of venison |