1827.] 



Domestic and Foreign. 



647 



at Rome and Naples, sometimes very good ; 

 but as a novel again it fails, and of neces- 



hide and seek. Miss Sternheim colours 

 scarlet ; she takes the letter, puts it in her 



sity fails. It moves at too slow apace. The bosom, and implores Myrvin to conceal 



breaks are frequent and provoking. The 

 interest, were it of a much keener kind, 



the circumstance from her aunt. This is 

 death to his hopes, and dispersion to the 



with such interruptions, must flag. The high conceptions he had formed of her 



novel reader will pursue the thread of the 

 story, and cut the rest as all de trop that 

 is, he will read about a third of the vo- 

 lumes ; and the reader, who wishes for 



character and integrity she had, on dis- 

 missing Vanderville, expressly said, her 

 affections were free. The intercourse 

 is, however, kept up ; and the charms of 



the description he is taught to expect, does the lady overpower the lover's suspicions. 



not want to be encumbered with new 

 acquaintance. 



As to the story, we have an aunt, a 



She conquers and triumphs in spite of 

 the dark appearances, and exults in that 

 triumph. He makes a tender of his af- 



peeress of the realm, touring in quest of factions and she, without rejecting re- 

 antiquarian lore, an ignorant pretender, minds him of Sir Willoughby-tells him 

 nothing but a stiff, stupid, prejudired, Sir Willoughby is the arbiter of her fate, 

 foolish old woman with a niece, entirely hut promises to explain all the next day. 

 dependent upon her and her humours, That night, however, Myrvin learns more 



young, lively, accomplished. These are 

 first met with at an inn on the Appenines 

 At the same place arrive two young men 

 of high family, and one of them of higher 



of Sir Willoughby enough to convince 

 him of Emily's duplicity. He renounces 

 all further connection with her ; flies from 

 Naples in agony, and leaves the poor 



expectations, who happens to know the lady in despair. All, however, as the 



, _ j in M j.i H 4 A t~*M**MAll >T.I^.^IL- 



aunt very well, and something of the niece, 

 though nothing of their relationship. The 

 parties travel on to Rome together. One 



reader will anticipate, eventually clears 

 up. Willoughby is her own brother. He 

 had offended the aunt, and had been pro- 



of the young men, Lord Vanderville, makes hibited all intercourse with his sister. 



violent love to the niece, Emily Stern- 

 heim; the other, Mr. Myrvin, something 



Myrvin is satisfied ; the parties are hap- 

 py; he in due time succeeds to a duke- 



very like love, but soberly, respectfully, dom, and she becomes a duchess 



remotely. The young lady, who is of a 

 gay and frank spirit, is pleased with the 

 open attentions of the one, and struck 

 with the implied admiration of the other. 

 The young men had been going forthwith 

 to Naples ; Mr. Myrvin to join his cousin, 

 a young lady of brilliant endowments, 

 for whom he is supposed to have a pen- 

 chant de cceur ; and Lord Vanderville ac- 

 companies, for want of something better 

 to do. Miss Sternheim proves to be metal 

 more attractive. Lord Vanderville suffers 

 his friend to proceed by himself, and re- 

 mains behind to press his suit upon Emily. 

 He soon comes to terms with the wealthy 

 aunt, and the young lady herself has no 

 very decided dislikes she only begs time 

 for better acquaintance. By and by the 

 parlies all go on to Naples. Here the 

 young lord meets with his friends, feels 

 at ease with regard to Emily, and grows 

 careless. She takes fire, and perempto- 

 rily dismisses my lord. 



Now come Mr. Myrvin and his fair 

 cousin the cousin, to whom he was sup- 

 posed to be engaged on the scene. By de- 

 grees it appears no such engagement exists. 

 Mr. Myrvin's admiration for Miss Stern- 

 heim becomes now more conspicuous ; and 

 he is almost on the point of declaration, 

 when, unluckily, a veturino delivers to her 

 a letter in Myrvin's presence from one 

 Sir Willoughby Martin. This Sir Wil- 

 loughby is known to Myrvin; he is just 

 now under a cloud ; has been extravagant, 

 fa deeply in debt, and obliged to play at 



The writer has power enough to set a 

 tale on its own legs. He may take our 

 experience ; no body will read his topo- 

 graphies or his antiquities. 



Reminiscences of Thomas Dibdin. 2 

 vols. 8t-o. ; 1827. Once more and pro- 

 bably, not positively, for the last time 

 have we the story of the stage and its 

 votaries for the last thirty years, neither 

 better nor worse than Kelly's, O'Keefe's, 

 and Reynolds's, but a mixture of them all, 

 eternally and intolerably the same. The 

 same names are perpetually recurring, the 

 same circumstances, the same subjects, * 

 all but the same events the whole po- 

 pulation of the scenes, from stars and 

 sweepers to scribblers and proprietors, 

 with their pitiful quarrels and jealousies, 

 their successes and failures, enlivened by 

 nothingof any universal int erest the stage 

 has long ceased to be a matter of general 

 regard and presenting nothing about 

 which any soul breathing beyond the pre- 

 cincts of the green-room cares a straw. 

 The style and cast of the sentiments are 

 still of the same fatiguing description 

 the same inflictings of quotation, the same 

 torturings of jokes, and scrapings of Latin, 

 the same laborious pursuit of a pun the 

 same tuft-hunting propensities, with the 

 semblances of lofty pretensions, exhibit- 

 ing altogether a taste and spirit, neither 

 intelligible nor congenial to any but a 

 brother of the sock. 



And yet, though all we have said be 

 true to the letter, we may be too severe 



