which the Emperor is decorated in his military trappings, that shine in dazzling lustre, in noble contempt of the chiaro-scuro.

It is amusing to see how the Government degrades, in its attempts to elevate and dignify, the military character. If a manufactory of mirrors be established, a general officer must be its overseer, and the driver of the" unwashed artificers." If the Government patronize a charity, or an establishment for dying broad-cloth, grinding cutlery, building ships, or spinning tapes and bobbins, a general officer must be the grand comptroller. If an English artist be engaged to paint the general officers of the whole army at "so much per head," they are ordered to attend his study in a certain dress, and at a prescribed hour, like schoolboys or lacqueys. In Napoleon's campaigns, the numerous and disastrous errors in time in Russian movements were attributed to the general and staff officers being destitute of watches; but we suppose, from their regularity in attending Mr. Dawe's study, they have been supplied.

Dr. Granville has thrown much light upon most subjects, and upon some he has left nothing farther to be known. But it is still difficult to estimate Russia. Is she a huge colossus, overstepping the pigmy world, or like the image of Nebuchadnezzar, of discordant materials, ready to fall to pieces at the first rude shock? When the veteran highly disciplined armies, and scientific generals of Austria were baffled by the Turks, the Russians under Suwarrow, in 1789, annihilated the victorious Ottomans with ease; and yet Suwarrow, in his Italian campaign against M'Donald, showed himself totally ignorant of strategy, and incapable of understanding military operations on a large scale. In the war against Turkey from 1805 to 1811, Russia reaped neither honour nor advantage; and yet, within that period, she was the hope of Europe, and fought the battles of Austerlitz and Friedland. In 1812, she resisted, single-handed, combined Europe, and the mightiest conqueror and the largest and most powerful force that the world ever beheld, and foiled, if not defeated them, in the sanguinary battle of Borodino. We need not dwell upon the savage grandeur of her subsequent sacrifices. And yet at this moment we behold this mighty power foiled, and rendered almost impotent by the rude and undisciplined hordes of Turkey-by a description of force which Napoleon drove like chaff before the wind. "All is not right; there's something rotten in the state of Russia." Great discontent prevails, and justly prevails, amongst the slave-ridden and the slave-riding aristocracy; and the disaffection throughout the southern parts of the empire is well founded, extensive, and rapidly progressive. The rivalry between Moscow and St. Petersburgh is alone a nucleus of future mischief. It is impossible for one Government to rule a country of such vast extent, with a population full of antipathies and rancorous prejudices, and possessed of the most opposite habits, wants, and interests. A few years will produce mighty changes in this empire; and Russia must always be at the mercy of England, and more especially of America.

Though our opinions differ from those of Dr. Granville, we are sensible of the value of his judgment, especially upon subjects which he has investigated with no ordinary powers of mind, and upon which he has collected the sentiments of so many eminent persons. We appreciate his work, not only as a luminous and elaborate, but as the most recent account of Russia, and which, in such a perpetually fluctuating

empire, is not a small advantage. His selection of facts is judicious, and he has brought an immense fund of information into a focus useful and entertaining to every class of readers. An amenity of disposition, and an appreciation of his talents and extensive acquirements in Russia, may have led to his too favourable views of some circumstances and objects; but his science and application have enabled him to take advantage of more than ordinary opportunities of knowledge, and his work is most valuable to the English public.

THE DEATH-BOAT OF HELIGOLAND.

CAN restlessness reach the cold sepulchred head?—

Ay, the quick have their sleep-walkers, so have the dead.
There are brains, though they moulder, that dream in the tomb,
And that madd'ning forehear the last trumpet of doom,

Till their corses start sheeted to revel on earth,

Making horror more deep by the semblance of mirth :
By the glare of new-lighted volcanoes they dance,
Or at mid-sea appal the chill'd mariner's glance.
Such, I wot, was the band of cadaverous smile
Seen ploughing the night-surge of Heligo's isle.
The foam of the Baltic had sparkled like fire,

And the red moon look'd down with an aspect of ire;

But her beams on a sudden grew sick-like and grey,

And the mews that had slept clang'd and shrieked far away—
And the buoys and the beacons extinguish'd their light,
As the boat of the stony-eyed dead came in sight,
High bounding from billow to billow; each form
Had its shroud like a plaid flying loose to the storm;
With an oar in each pulseless and icy-cold hand,
Fast they ploughed, by the lee-shore of Heligoland,
Such breakers as boat of the living ne'er cross'd;
Now surf-sunk for minutes again they uptoss'd,
And with livid lips shouted reply o'er the flood
To the challenging watchman that curdled his blood-
"We are dead-we are bound from our graves in the west,
First to Hecla, and then to -" Unmeet was the rest
For man's ear. The old abbey bell thunder'd its clang,
And their eyes gleam'd with phosphorous light as it rang:
Ere they vanish'd, they stopped, and gazed silently grim,
Till the eye could define them, garb, feature and limb.

Now who were those roamers ?—of gallows or wheel
Bore they marks, or the mangling anatomist's steel?
No, by magistrates's chains 'mid their grave clothes you saw,
They were felons too proud to have perish'd by law;
But a ribbon that hung where a rope should have been,
'Twas the badge of their faction, its hue was not green,
Show'd them men who had trampled and tortured and driven
To rebellion the fairest Isle breath'd on by Heaven,-
Men whose heirs would yet finish the tyrannous task,

If the Truth and the Time had not dragg'd off their mask.
They parted-but not till the sight might discern
A scutcheon distinct at their pinnace's stern,
Where letters emblazon'd in blood-colour'd flame,

Named their faction-I blot not my page with its name.

C.

WALKS IN ROME AND ITS ENVIRONS.NO. XV.

The Roman Theatres.

"Vacuam, Romanis vatibus, ædem."-Hor. Ep. lib, ii.

CHRISTMAS Opened the Roman theatres, and restored the people oncemore to one of their favourite amusements. The position of the ecclesiastical portion of the Roman Government on these occasions is amusing: the State likes the licence well enough; it brings money to an impoverished capital, keeps strangers, and prevents people from thinking of worse thingssuch as the high price of bread, Carbonarism, revolution, &c.; but the Church, par état, is obliged to protest and disavow. A sort of tacit compromise is therefore entered on, grounded on the "levius fit patientià" maxim of the poet, the head and front maxim of all modern Roman diplomacy. The Impressario of each company is allowed to come to Rome, and, in some instances, to negotiate with the Cardinal Secretary in person; and while the pulpits thunder, as a matter of course, against the abomination of abominations, the scandal, clipped of but a small portion of its horrors, is shrugged and connived at by the Vicegerent ("proh nefas!") della sua Santità himself.* This anomalous opposition of names to things, and of externals to internals, is, however, just as well understood at Rome as in most other countries. The decencies are nowhere more conventional. Every one agrees to take the stage for a stage, and has the good sense and taste not to give himself more trouble than he ought, about what is passing behind the scenes.

There are five theatres at Rome, to a population very nearly as considerable as that of Dublin. Each of these establishments is the property of one of the noble families in the city, who prefer doing by themselves what is usually done in England by committee. The Valle belongs to the Marchese Capranica, one of the four Roman Marquesses who have a right of canopy; the Argentina to the Duke Cesarini Sforza, the descendant of the celebrated ex-dynasty of that name; the Tor'di Nona, so called from an ancient tower near, to that universal man, the Duke of Bracciano (Torlonia). The Pallacorda is a joint concern; and the Aliberti has so often changed masters, that it is difficult to say in whose hands it ultimately remains. The Valle and the

Opinion on this subject, as on others, has experienced many changes in Italy. It was in the year 1600, when the popular comedy began to degenerate, principally through the introduction of masques, into absolute licence, that St. Charles Borromeo obtained, for the first time, from the government of Milan, the privilege of censorship, over every theatrical production. This privilege has since remained vested in the hands of the clergy, and extended from Milan to every other province in Italy. The first comedies and tragedies were, however, in many instances, performed before the Popes themselves. Nor is this to be considered a matter of astonishment or reprehension. Such productions, usually in imitation of the comedies of Plautus and Terence, were regarded as a portion only of the general literature of antiquity, of which the Popes deemed themselves the especial patrons and protectors. The Clizia," and " Mandragola," of Macchiavelli, were represented with the utmost magnificence before Leo X. and his court, the "Conquista di Grenata," before Alexander VI. &c. Many of the first ecclesiastical officers were themselves composers and contributors; we have the " Fernandus Servatus" of Verardo, Secretary to four successive popes, the "Calandra" of the Cardinal Bibiena, licentious even for the period of life at which it was written; and many others of minor importance. The first theatre known at Rome was erected by the Cardinal Riario, nephew of Sixtus IV.; and the most learned academics did not think it beneath their gravity and respectability to appear occasionally on such boards. The Intronati and Rozzi of Sienna, the Pomponiani of Rome, were in particular addicted to the cultivation of these amusements. The improvement of theatrical representation was one of the objects of their institution. The best performers of the two former were especially invited by Leo X. to Rome, who thus secured for his capital the first company probably in Christendom at the time. The first theatre just alluded to was erected some years anterior to this invitation.

Argentina are the two principal. The Valle opens immediately after Christmas; the Argentina succeeds in the summer, or after-season; the Tor'di Nona, considerably smaller, performs nearly at the same time with the Argentina. The performances in the two first extend to the entire dramatic circletragedy, comedy, pastoral, &c.; and as base and substratum of the whole, music. The Tor'di Nona follows, "haud passibus æquis." The Aliberti is almost a ruin; and from its extravagant size, reserved for the only use to which it is now applicable-the celebration of the Carnival Festini once or twice a year. The Palla-corda, as its name designates, is a kind of Astley's. The Romans have their old propensity for this sort of amusement; the "funabula" enjoy all their ancient celebrity; and no theatre at Rome has a more numerous or devout race of votaries than the Palla-corda.

The day after Christmas-Day the Valla opened, with the usual gala, and the new opera and ballet for the season. Every thing here must be new; new company, new orchestra, every thing but the faded drapery of the boxes, the painting of the theatre, and the tattered canvass of the scenery. This novelty, however, soon wears out; not more than two musical performances are usually given in the season, and these, such as they are-and they are often of the worst description—are, night after night, as in other parts of Italy, repeated ad nauseam. It is a matter not merely of curiosity, but of party, to obtain a good first hearing. The jury which decides on the first night usually seals the fate of the season. The crowd therefore on such occasions is more than usually tumultuous; every one is anxious to put in his claim to the only franchise which a modern Roman may be said to enjoy. They come, as of old, to sit in solemn Areopagus on the merits of the respective candidates, and seem ludicrously impressed with the high character of their critical functions. The choice divides all Rome: the struggle is carried on with the utmost strenuousness and decorum, and the triumph celebrated with an exultation not unworthy of the election of one of our members of Parliament. I remember seeing a tenzone of this kind between Pacini and Donizetti. Pacini was the conqueror, not without some imputation of secret and even unprofessional machination. He was charged with having bribed the Prima Donna, &c. The moment the piece terminated he was hurried from the theatre, and carried upon the shoulders of his partizans through the principal part of Rome, with flambeaus, music, &c. stopping from time to time under the windows of his fair protectresses (the Princess Borghese was at their head), and returning them thanks for their encouragement and patronage. The defeated party had their revanche; the Prima Donna was tried for corruption, on their appeal, before the Governor, convicted, and fined fifty crowns. In all this there was nothing considered either strange or odd; the people blamed or applauded, but no one stared or sneered.

In this spirit, and with the anticipation of a luxurious critical treat, I was hurried off by one of my theatrical friends, at about half-past six, to the Teatro Valle. We had to pass through a multiplicity of narrow and obscure lanes, in a very populous district of the town (the region of the Pantheon), before we could reach its difficult and encumbered entrance. It has since been repaired, but it was then without any external pretensions whatever. The front, in a town which is all architecture, was unworthy of a village barn. The interior had the great demerit of being perfectly consistent with the exterior. It was large and democratic-truly the theatre of the people; the best portion the pit; the boxes mere cachots, ill fronted and ill ventilated; the corridors, if possible, worse; so narrow, that you ran against the greasy wall and streaming oil, and were offended by the bare and rickety boards which trembled under you at every step. As to gallery, properly so called, there was none; but neither was there populace or rabble to fill it. Populace and people are here one, and conduct themselves with an attention and propriety which would shame our aristocracy. There was but one passage out, and that but ill calculated for a cry of “Fire!" Now all this had been endured for nearly a century in the country, and in sight of the monuments of the Cæsars.

It was not until the absolute risk attending upon the performances had directed the attention of the people and the Government to the nuisance, that it was deemed advisable to correct it. The present structure, raised after various efforts and accidents, by Valladier, is neat and convenient enough; but the description of the former is still applicable, in more than one instance, to the other theatres of Rome.

The first aspect of a Continental Theatre is discouraging enough; and in this particular the Italian exceeds the French. We err in another extreme. Our too much light has nearly the effect of no light at all; or perhaps it is worse it brings before us two spectacles, as many stages as there are boxes, and thus sacrifices to accessories, what, as end and principle, should stand alone. The theatre on the Continent has been much truer to the preservation of the illusion. It concentrates the light, and in a great degree the attention, upon the only object on which it ought to fall. The drawing-room vanities now and then may suffer a little by this improvement, though gallantry, and society, generally speaking, know very well how to repair their loss. This well managed, as at Milan, is admirable, but in the minor theatres it opens a door to every neglect. What is not intended to be seen, or is seldom seen, is soon abandoned. In the Roman theatres, besides, there is no superior police to interfere or correct; the Government, it is easy to perceive, is no shareholder; every thing is dimness and carelessness; the feeble efforts of the princely families to drape and tinsel a tier or two of boxes, make no atonement for the nakedness of the rest: and, as to the people's participation in the business, the people are entitled only to be amused; they pay their money, see the play, and are not so unreasonable as to think of comfort.

I was handed the play-bill on entering. Instead of a sober catalogue of names and characters as with us, I found it to be a puff, beyond the most extravagant magnificence of Elliston himself in that most useful style of writing. Every one was lauded from the public up to the actor himself. "Les pauvres diables sont sans nulle vergogne;" and what is worse, this self-eulogy is exacted by the public with the same punctiliousness as a mere stage bow.*

The opera of the night was Rossini's admirable "Tancredi." He was yet in the dawn of his fame, and had not been forced to that spendthrift and careless expenditure of his talent, which, at a later period, has made him even a plagiarist from himself. The Roman piques himself on his " emunctæ naris" style of criticism, and superciliously concentrates his enthusiasm; whilst the Florentine magniloquizes in guttural Tuscan, and the Neapolitan gesticulates away his overburthened spirit, with a fervour and rapidity which defies the feeble imitation of mere word. I shall not forget the reception of the Catalani: it was a good illustration of this temper. Her engagement at Rome was limited to three nights. The first, whether from fatigue or professional indifference to the anticipations of the public, was commonplace and slovenly. The Romans contemptuously pronounced on her merits, and on the succeeding night stayed away. The result was what might have been anticipated: she sung divinely; nothing was talked of on the morning but the admirable music which every one had missed. The third night the theatre was crowded to excess; expectation was on tiptoe: the stratagem

The following is an extract from one of those productions now before me: "Teatro Valle-Aviso-Per la sera di Sabato 10 Gennaio. A benefizio del caratterista Giovanni Boboli. Chi non sa che tutto è Maneggio nel Mondo? L'uomo in società l'a reso così necessario, che per vivere onestamente bisogna far uso di esso. Maneggiamoci dunque (dice il Caratterista della compagnia Blanes Giovanni Boboli) per fare nella Sera suddetta una buona serata di Benefizio, onde poter maneggiare anch' esso Gli effetti della Romana Prodigalità. Ma come farà egli per riuscirvi? Ecco come farà. Non farà torto al buon gusto di chi seralmente lo compatisce: ed esporra una commedia mai più comparsa su queste scene scritta dal Gran Maestro dell' Arte cioè dall' Avocato Carlo Goldoni, che porta appunto per titolo La Donna di Maneggio," &c.