1829.] Theatrical Matters. 195 



the Seraglio to the pre-eminence of British merriment ; and from the sea of 

 Marmora, nothing will be simpler than to step into the steam boat^ touching 

 at Gibraltar for a night, and leaving their cards for Don Miguel at Lisbon on 

 their way home. 



The last intelligence of the theatrical world is, that Sontag is not Countess 

 Clam, the singer having altered her ideas as to the title, which her Oxford 

 correspondent told her meant in Latin something of privacy. Nor is she Lady 

 Clanwilliam, nor the Marchioness of Hertford. The only approach, we are 

 told, that she will now suffer to discovery, is the " enigmatical declaration" 

 that she is privately married, (very privately indeed, we should suppose) 

 to "& prince of her own country, residing in London, a very poor man, 

 but very proud ; very much shocked at the idea of his being allied hi matri- 

 mony to a singer, but very much pleased with her salary." This may be 

 called an enigma by those who are fond of puzzling themselves, but to our 

 apprehension, as Lord Ilutton says, " Stop my vitals, it is as plain a'descrip- 

 tion of a plain person as any plain gentleman in England would desire." 



NOTES OF THE MONTH ON AFFAIRS IN GENEUAL. 



The Turk and the Russian are still tearing each other in pieces ; and 

 ■whether the bear or the tiger rips up the flank, is the grand question of 

 our politicians. The Vizier has been beaten among the mountains, in a 

 general affair, on the 11th of June, and the Russians laid hold on his 

 cannon and baggage in the flight. Man is man after all, and we cannot 

 rejoice in the wretchedness and agonies that follow the triumphs of the 

 bullet and the bayonet ; but if war must be somewhere or other, let it be, 

 we say, between Russians and Turks. If slaughter were to sweep away 

 the generations of both for a century to come, probably not one human 

 being worth saving would be extinguished. Neither science nor arts — 

 neither philosophy nor freedom, would lose a single champion ; and the 

 only difference would be, that instead of plains covered with sullen and 

 furious barbarians, we should have plains covered with sheep and horsesj 

 that might be turned into some use to the world, and that certainly would 

 not go to war with each other, nor any body else. The character of the 

 Russ differs from that of the Turk in little more than in the quality of his 

 barbarism. The Turk loves blood ; — the Russ loves craft ; — the Turk 

 takes at once to the dagger ; — the Russ begins by the snare ; but when 

 the matter presses, he will use the steel as readily as any Turk on earth. 

 The ferocity of the Turk flourishes in the streets, in his own house, in 

 the seraglio — every where that he has a victim within his reach, and that 

 it pleases him to destroy that victim. The Russ knows something more 

 of the law, and is by no means so domestic a cut-throat ; but his mercy 

 in the field or in the stormed city, is massacre. 



There are rumours of peace ; and if the battle bring it to bear, then we 

 rejoice that the Vizier has taken to his heels ; that his squares were 

 turned into circles, and his kettles, the only rational point of honour that 

 war ever exhibited, are boiling buffalo hides, and stewing pack-saddles 

 for the dinners of the Russian staff. But if Sultan Mahmood shall think 

 fit to fight it out, the youngest born of our cabinet politicians may have 

 all the sagacity that at least another half century can give him, before he 

 sees the Emperor Nicholas within a hundred miles of the city of the 

 Crescent. 



Earthquakes have been lately practising upon the sensibilities of the 

 people of Jamaica. One of the newspapers imputes them to Lord 



2 C 2 



