mata of Vaucauson, or of Albert the Great. The first is a small elegantly wrought gold cage, surmounting a musical clock work. In this cage is a fountain, and a bird not larger than a bee, which sings, flutters its wings, and flies from one part of the cage to another. The base of the second is also occupied by a musical clock work; it represents a group of quadrupeds around the basin of a fountain, where a goat drinks, and performs a variety of movements. In front is a basket with a pear in it: the moment the pear is touched, a dog on the other side gnashes his teeth, barks, and shakes himself till the pear is replaced, while a monkey behind threatens him with a stick, and in the mean time munches an apple. A butterfly rests on a pillar above the fountain, and moves its wings and feet. The back ground to this group is a mass of rocks, from among which, now and then, a fox makes its appearance. Above these rocks there is a small patch of blue sky, and the sun turning on his axis, and also accomplishing his diurnal revolution. This is a remarkably complicated piece of machinery, none of the figures being more than an inch in -length. the answer, which is always appropriate. a roar. The minute shades of her bye-play, and the The last is called a perpetual motion; although perhaps the power that it possesses is not strong enough for any application to extensive machinery. It consists of a large wheel, around the edge of which are placed at equal distances a certain number of moveable hollow cylinders, each containing an equal proportion of quicksilver. The weight of the quicksilver, which moves from one side to the other as the wheel turns, determines the horizontal or perpendicular position of the cylinders. By their horizontal position, in falling, the circumference of the wheel is continually enlarged on one side, and diminished on the other by their perpendicular position in rising; this creates two unequal semicircles, the one more eccentric than the other, and thus causes a perpetual rotation. THE DRAMA. MANCHESTER DRAMATIC REGISTER. Monday, Feb. 11th.-The Hypocrite: Cantwell, Mr. Tuesday, 12th.-John Bull; with Ways and Means: Job Thornberry and Sir David Dunder, Mr. Dowton. Dowton; with The Warlock of the Glen. The third is a cage, very large and high'ly ornamented. On the top is a black man who beats time to the chiming of several satyrs and two monkeys, one of whom grins quite ludicrously. But the most wonderful things are two Canary birds that sing the natural notes of these birds, flutter and flap their wings, and spring from one perch to another. In this cage is a fountain, which falls by several stories; and the artificial arrangeSIR. I trust to your candour for inserting the folments of pieces of glass represents so na-lowing in a corner of your entertaining miscellany, in turally the sound and glitter of falling water, that both the eye and the ear may be deceived. The fourth is a park with two country seats, out of which come two ladies, who exchange mutual salutations, and bow to the company. Attracted by the sudden flight and song of a bird in a grove beside them, they turn and listen. The bird, not larger than a bee, sings and flutters for some time, and then flies away among the trees. Upon this, the ladies repeat their bows and curtsies to each other and to the company, and withdraw into their houses. On the top of the dome above, is a large butterfly, which closes and expands its wings and moves its feet in a perfectly natural manner, This and indeed all the machinery play a variety of tunes. The fifth and sixth are two magicians, the French and the American. There is a set number of questions to each; and on any one of these being placed in a drawer for the purpose, the magician goes through a variety of ceremonies and gives TO THE EDITOR. answer to the very liberal and candid remarks signed How "After the excellent Comedy of John Bull, Lilliput followed; and the acting of the Child Miss Clara Fisher, may be considered, one of the most extraordinary intellectual phenomena that ever puzzled a metaphysician.”—(Times, Dec. 22nd, 1817.) The above extracts (out of the many that followed her first appearance in London, all equally favourable) will, I trust, convince nine-tenths of your readers of the fallacy and ill nature of the learned remarks of your Correspondent: and I have no doubt the greatest success will attend Miss C. Fisher's next appearance on these boards, and will again delight a Manchester Audience, whom "Jack Bunce," very politely terms "Barren Spectators." Craving indulgence for so long trespassing on your columns, I am, Sir, A FRIEND TO REAL MERIT. Manchester, February 12th, 1822. TO CORRESPONDENTS. R. B. G,'s. Essay, is particularly solicited. Patriarchal Chronology,'-' Mancuniensis,'- The J.'s Essay, On the Fate of Genius,' came too late derdash,' is under consideration. Letter-Box in the Door. In part of last week's impression the following errata appeared. Miss Clara Fisher, a child of apparently between The Brief Sketch of the Rev. Owen Owen Balsix and seven years of age, manifested an almost miraculous power of conception of character. ever degrading it may appear to some, that a number of grown Persons should submit to be amused by infants, in a part truly intellectual, the observer of human nature can never consider it a descent from his dignity, or even a deviation from his pursuits, to trace the first movements of the capacity in any course, to which nature, or education, may have directed its early bias.”—(Morning Chronicle, Dec. 11th, 1817.) "The little Richard, Miss Clara Fisher, was throughout admirable, and seemed, in more than one instance, to have a conception of her own, capable of furnishing readings, which a full grown Tyrant, need not blush to adopt."--(Morning Post, Dec. 11th, 1817.) Page 9, line 3, for those' 10 'the.' 'has.' 'power.' Printed, Published, and Sold, 'BY HENRY SMITH AND BROTHERS, "But we must record the brilliant success of the FOR THE IRIS. CAIN, A MYSTERY. SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1822. verts and misapplies his talents: all ranks of society This is not idle declamation, as every one who Oh would thou tak a thout and mend.' and dedicate his pen to the service of that morality IN pointing out the aberrations of a splendid intellect, and the self-degradation of genius, I disclaim all those petty motives of malice and envy which so frequently excite the anathemas of the critic. I admire the genius of Byron; I lament its degradation. But still it should be remembered, that he is so far above the host of petty scribblers who criticise his works, in intellectual greatness, that it becomes us to point out the excellencies and defects of his productions, with the utmost modesty, when they do not affect the cause of religion and of morality; but when they are assailed, every honest man, and every christian, ought loudly to enter his pro- There is very little of human action, or of human test against the assailant, however dignified his rank, feelings, depicted in this Mystery,' as it is not or exalted his genius. unaptly termed. All the personages, which the It must grieve every true admirer of poetry to inspired historian represents as virtuous, are here see the course which his lordship has lately taken;-depicted dull and insipid. Cain's own description of to see that genius, which had it been devoted to the them is a correct picture, as his lordship has drawn interests of religion and morality, (which even he them. himself acknowledges to be the highest aim of poetry), would have rendered the name of Byron, a blessing to the nation and to posterity, as it now is and will be-a curse! That genius might have produced images of purity and excellence, which would have been fondly cherished in the choicest recesses of our memories; which has been expended in administering to the basest and most degrading of passions, in a tale which can only he openly shewn and acknowledged in a brothel; and whose images can only be cherished by those whose every better feeling is lost in brutal sensuality; and in the production now before me, which can only excite unmixed feelings of pain in the mind of the christian, and of a sullen triumphant feeling of savage joy in the infidel. The attacks of such men as Hone and Carlile, upon the institutions which we venerate and adore, are puny and impotent, and can only affect the uneducated and uninformed; but when the Herculeanpowers of a Byron assail them, we tremble, not for fear of their destruction, for they are imperishable; but for the temporary injury which may be occasioned, by misleading the minds of the unthinking and unreflecting. It is a national calamity, when one of the great master spirits' of the age, so per 'My father is Tamed down; my mother has forgot the mind The piece opens with all the mortal characters of- "Oh, God! why didst thou plant the tree of know- CAIN. WEEKLY. PRICE 3 d. Before the gates round which I linger oft, If I shrink not from these, the fire-arm'd angels, A conversation ensues, in which the bold discontented spirit of Cain is powerfully wrought upon, by the subtlety of Lucifer, in whose character, all the metaphysical doubts and speculations, which have agitated the minds of men for ages, are concentred, and expressed with a boldness which startles, and with a subtlety which cannot fail very much to injure minds, which are not previously well fortified against such attacks. I shall only make one or two extracts of this nature, by way of shewing the justice of my remarks. Lucifer speaking of himself and Cain, says, that they are 'Souls who dare use their immortality- As he saith-which I know not, nor believe- Cain's feelings, on the subject of death, are thus forcibly and beautifully expressed. although I know not what it is, Lucifer leaves him, after having fill'd his mind with fresh matter for gloomy and discontented thoughts, which he communicates to his wife Adah, who endeavours to sooth him. A little glimmering of kinder feeling occasionally breaks out from the gloomy darkness of Cain's soul, for instance, speaking of his children. My little Enoch! and his lisping sister! Lucifer returns, and requests Cain to accompany him, on which Adah endeavours to prevent him, and Lucifer, to entangle her in the web of metaphysical speculations. In the course of this dialogue, Adah makes the following exquisitely poetical comparison, between the angels of the Lord and Lucifer. his angels, who are like to thee-And brighter, yet less beautiful and powerful In seeming as the silent sunny noon, All light they look upon us; but thou seem'st Like an etherial night, where long white clouds Streak the deep purple, and unnumber'd stars Spangle the wonderful mysterious vault With things that look as if they would be suns; So beautiful, unnumber'd, and endearing, Not dazzling, and yet drawing us to them, They fill my eyes with tears, and so dost thou. Thou seem'st unhappy; do not make us so, And I will weep for thee. The last sentiment is exquisitely feeling and feminine, and endears the character of Adah to us more than any elaborate description could have done. In the Second Act, Lucifer takes him through the abyss of space, and again enters deeply and painfully, into the often-agitated and never-settled question, of the origin of sin. He shews him worlds present, and the shadows of past worlds, and among others the world which preceded this, and was far greater, and more glorious; and when Cain asks, Wherefore did it fall?' He answers By a most crushing and inexorable Destruction and disorder of the elements, Which struck a world to chaos, as a chaos Subsiding has struck out a world: such things, Though rare in time, are frequent in eternity.' There are several poetical passages of the highest order, mixed with revolting blasphemy and infidelity in this act. I have selected only the following. Cain's feelings on viewing the heavens and their luminaries which is a favourite subject of his lordship's muse; he however always makes it interesting and avoids monotony. Oh, thon beautiful Oh God! Oh Gods! or whatso'er ye are! How beautiful ye are! how beautiful Cain's love for Adah is thus expressed by him. The sun's gorgeous coming His setting indescribable, which fills The forest shade-the green bough-the bird's voice The vesper bird's, which seems to sing of love. All these are nothing, to my eyes and heart, Like Adah's face: I turn from earth and heaven To gaze on it.' Cain returns to his family, and pours out the bitter moanings of his restless and discontented spirit over his sleeping child, and in the presence of his wife. I would fain transcribe many passages here of great pathos, but I have already far exceeded my usual limits. Abel enters, and proposes making a sacrifice to the Deity on two altars which are adjoining, and, after some altercation, Cain consents. Abel kneels, and with an humble prayer offers the firstlings of his flocks. Cain stands, and in a speech of insulting, sneering mockery, offers the fruits of the earth. Abel's offering is consumed in a bright flame, while that of Cain is thrown by a whirlwind to the ground. Upon which he resolves to throw down the altars, but is opposed by Abel, to whom he says, If thou lovest thyself, Abef! I pray thee, mock me not! I smote Adam, Eve, Adah, and Zillah, enter, and Eve with great and unnatural ferocity, taxes Cain with the murder, and curses him. It would have been more natural for the authoress of all this evil, to have mourned over the guilt of her first-born, than to have cursed him: (at least that is my humble opinion.) Adam's conduct is much more feeling and consistent. They all leave him but Adah, who still adheres to him whom she loves, though guilty, with a melancholy attachment. The angel of the Lord enters and sets a mark on Cain's brow, and pronounces the judgement of heaven on him. After a short dialogue with Adah, they prepare to depart- and Cain expresses his melancholy desponding feelings over the body of Abel, with considerable force. I Can never meet thee more, nor ever dare After a perusal of this strange 'Mystery' what painful feelings are left upon the mind, to think that a genius so splendid, should be employed to render mankind, as miserable as himself; to endeavour to wrest from them, that belief, which is their prop, their stay, their support, under all the trials and sorrows of this world; a source of happiness to many, of hope to nearly all. Does not every Father dread to hear of a new production of Byron's, for fear of the morals and creed of his children? does not every mother shudder, lest her daughters meet with some impure thoughts, or naked image of pollution? Oh! what a noble mind is here o'erthrown.' THE CLUB. NEMO. No. II.-Friday, Feb. 15th, 1822. At the meeting of the club this evening, most of the members were at the Green Dragon before seven o'clock; and when the president took the chair, not one was absent. As the sign, which hangs just below the middle window of our club-room, is above twenty years old, and has never been altered, (except to substitute the christian name of the present landlord for that of his father,) it has for some time been no easy matter to make out what animal it was intended to represent, and the Green Dragon has more than once been taken for the Brown Cow, or the Gaping Goose. For our parts, satisfied with the civil behaviour, and excellent liquor of our worthy host, we have never been very solicitous about his sign. Indeed one of our members, who is fond of antiquities, has repeatedly declared that the beautiful obscurity of the sign, was one great recommendation of the house; and that it was, in his opinion, far preferable to a tawdry picture, all green and gilding, which every ignorant fellow would know at first sight to be intended for a dragon. It is perhaps owing to the condition of the sign, that, although the lodge of odd fellows, at the George and Dragon has been subjected to some enquiries, only one person has yet succeeded in discovering the Green Dragon. This was a young gentleman whom the landlord, from something which he let fall about libels and damages, took to be an attorney's clerk, the deri 2-1 a hatter and who, after treating our host with sixpenny-worth of gin and water, ventured to ask him if there was not a sort of club held once a week in the house; and cautioned him, in a very friendly manner, as he valued his license, to beware what sort of people he permitted to meet and talk in his upper room. We laughed heartily at this little occurrence; and as our various avocations lead us into different parts of the town, and oblige us to mingle with people of every description, we soon found that every member had something to communicate respecting the Iris, A work so much read has of course been criticised. It is not our business to repeat the praises which have been bestowed upon the spirit of the publishers, or the wishes for their success which have been uttered by so many persons. We, of course, have been chiefly attentive to what was said of our Secretary's paper; and have been sometimes pleased, and sometimes, we will own, a little mortified by the undisguised opinions which we have heard on the subject. The reader, if he has ever written, will be able to judge of our secretary's feelings, when, on asking a neighbour, with as much unconcern as possible, what he thought of the Iris? he was answered that there were several good things in it, but the best by far was the account of the man who came over from France as near the Market-place, who has discovered that a As it is our determination not to be precipitate in no comments upon the various opinions which we have One thing, however, we must not omit to notice. assure them that their curiosity on this head will P. S. One of our members, who is still unmarried, a valley de sham, and made a fortune of two hundred but who does not affect singularity, is particularly thousand pounds!' Of the mortification arising from neglect, which all authors agree to be the least endurable, we have, however, experienced but little. The Club' has been talked of rather more than we expected, and as we have been amused by some of the opinions which have been formed of it, we shall communicate a few of them to our readers. desirous that so much of the first number as relates two others, seldom take more than a single glass in the course of the evening. He says that the explanation will give much satisfaction to a certain elderly gentleman, whose good opinion he is very desirous to We find that there is a great contrariety of senti- preserve; and who, as well as his amiable daughter, ment in the town on the subject of our religious and reads the Iris, and is aware of our friends connexion political opinions. Those who have heated their ima- with the Club. number or two, we shall give proof of our honesty and sound judgement, by openly declaring for them. Our political critics have not treated us with quite so much charity. About the Exchange our loyalty is suspected, because it is stated in our first number that some of us are friendly to reform; while in the neighbourhood of the New Cross, and especially amongst the female reformers, many are certain that no man of sound principles could have written two pages without mentioning Mr. Hunt, and the Northern Union. Caution. The gentleman in the brown coat and velvet collar, Green Dragon, is hereby cautioned not to make any TO THE EDITOR. M. M. SIR,-The following delineation of the forlorn state of a Bachelor, was written by a member of a juvenile society in the north of England, and havThese are the judgements of ordinary readers. But ing never appeared in print, I shall feel gratified by there is a gentleman of more than common sagacity, its insertion in your agreeable miscellany. Perhaps some of your correspondents who have not yet who is the oracle of the company at a certain tavern IN my wanderings amid the mountainscenery of nature, I was struck with the appearance of an aged tree, that stood singly, bending over the brow of a rocky steep. The ruthless hand of time had despoiled it of its foliage, save here and there a green leaf, that was scattered amongst its twisted branches; and which seemed to have been left, to denote that life still lingered in its tottering frame. The wind, as it rushed at intervals from between the hills, whistled round its hoary head, and not unfrequently snatched away a quivering leaf, or snapped off below. Alas! thought I, thus fares it a sapless bough, and tossed it to the vale with the man, who, in the morning of his days, says in his heart, behold! my strength is upon me-I will set my feet in high places; and like the bird that skims through the air, I will be unrestrained and free. My heart will I shut up, so that no daughter of the land shall age desires are the centre, shall become contracted and deformed. And as thou hast condemned thyself to tread the uncheering paths of solitude, the clouds of dejection and despondency shall surely encompass thee about; then shalt thou look back and lament thy unwise choice; and if thou shouldst have the courage to look forward, it will be with forebodings of greater evils than those thou hast already endured. The spoiler shall make a prey of thee; and the mocker shall point the finger, and say, behold the man, who loveth no But 'dark one save himself alone.' and unlovely,' shall come fast upon thee, and imprint her premature wrinkles on thy care worn brow. Then shalt thou lift up thy dim eyes, and look around thee for comfort and consolation, but alas! none shall be afforded thee. No son full of manly vigour to direct thy uncertain steps; no lovely daughter, to sooth with affectionate and endearing attentions thy declining life-to support thee during the day, and at night to smooth the pillow for thy drooping head. The hireling shall attend thy uneasy couch; and the stranger shall receive thy last sigh. Thus, like the mountain tree, thou shalt stand alone and unsheltered, friendless and deserted, thou shalt feel the full force of every adverse gale; and when thou fallest thou shalt fall unnoticed -thy name shall be forgotten among men; and the remembrance of thee, as that of a cloud which passeth away. POETRY. [ORIGINAL] WHAT IS LOVE? Love's not an idle giddy dream, A vapid empty sound, Nor yet like summer's bright sunbeam, No! love is wise, substantial, true, Which time nor change can ne'er subdue, Love's not a transient sudden rise, Nor like a meteor of the skies, Nor phantom that will flee. No! love's a lasting, heavenly day, A firm, a steady rock! Love knows no change, no wand'ring way, But braves each worldly shock! And when this tott'ring fabric dies, And when unchain'd the spirit flies, Feb. 22nd, 1822. T. T. L. [ORIGINAL.] TO MY INFANT. There is a charm which few can feel, When calmly sunk in welcome rest. Where little dimples love to dwell; To me have charms which none can tell. To trace the lustre of thine eye, I've ponder'd on thy future doom; To find a welcome in the skies. Salford, 12th Feb. 1822. [ORIGINAL.] THE ROSE. Fanning zephyrs gently woo thee, In praising thy sweet charms combine; The brilliant ruler of the day, For fear thy tender leaf should fade, And weeping bent to be thy shade. O ever gentle, ever kind! Still grace my cot, thou beauteous flower, A happy home with me you'll find, A happy home within my bower. Feb. 12th, 1822. IMPROMPTU, H. L. Y. after the signal victory of the Nile, Admiral Nelson having previously lost an eye and an arm. Frenchmen, no more with Britons vie, Nelson destroys your naval band, Sees your designs with half an eye, And fights and beats you with one hand. SONG, BY A MOTHER TO HER INFANT. Weepe not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, Last his sorrow, first his joy. Weepe not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, Like pearle drops from a flint, Tears of blood fell from his heart, When he left his prettie boy, Father's sorrow, father's joy. Weepe not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, Weepe not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, When thou art old there's griefe enough for thee. This beautiful song is taken from Greene's Arcadia, published in 1599. Robert Greene was a celebrated dramatist in the time of Queen Elizabeth, and author of many works to which Shakspeare was much indebted. They are interspersed with many short compositions like the above, which indicate much poetical taste and feeling. Considering that he wrote most of his pieces in quick succession, to supply his immediate wants, it is surprising to see how polished some of them are. Though, from their popularity, they must have gone through many editions, they are now very J. scarce. HELVELLYN. In the spring of 1805, Mr. Charles Gough, of this town, perished by loosing his way over the Mountain of Helvellyn. His remains were not discovered until three months afterwards, when they were found guarded by a faithful terrier, bis constant attendant during his frequent rambles through the wilds of Cumberland and Westmoreland. I climb'd the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn, Lakes and mountains beneath me gleam'd misty and wide, All was still, save by fits, when the eagle was yelling, And Catchedecam its left verge was defending, Dark green was the spot, 'mid the brown mountain heather, Where the pilgrim of nature lay stretch'd in decay, Like the corpse of an outcast, abandon'd to weather, Till the mountain winds wasted the tenantless clay; Nor yet quite deserted, tho' lonely extended, For faithful in death, his mute favorite attended, The much lov'd remains of his master defended, And chased the hill fox, and the raven away. How long did'st thou think that his silence was slumber? When the wind wav'd his garments, how oft did'st thou start? How many long days and long nights, did'st thou number, E're be faded before thee, the friend of thy heart? And oh! was it meet that no requiem read o'er him, No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him, And thou, little guardian, alone stretch'd before him, Unhonor'd the pilgrim of life should depart? |