is it ill-adapted to opera, where the incidents should be very simple, and obvious enough to require little explanation. In the intricate libretto there is no end of explanation, and hence the music is perpetually interrupted by long dialogue, uttered by persons who have as much notion of acting as a Wesleyan preacher. This, without any fault on Mr. Wallace's part, gives a patchy, straggling appearance to his opera, and we certainly regret that he has not had more congenial material to work upon, The new comedy of the Maiden Aunt, by Mr. Richard Brinsley Knowles, produced at the Haymarket, is a very difficult subject to speak about. Puerile and unsatisfactory to the last degree in the construction of the plot, there is that promise in the writing and in the conception of the characters, that one would be sorry to say anything to discourage the author, prominent as are his defects. The play is in blank verse, and the imitation of the Elizabethian peculiarities is precisely in the manner of the author's father. There is the same heartiness of feeling, the same warmth of expression, the same love of quaint repartee which has so often delighted in Mr. Knowles's comedies. All who go to see it must go in the spirit of allowance, or they will not be qualified to appreciate its merits. Let it be considered as the work of a very young man, a perfect novice in his art, and then the better points will be recognised. Out of half a dozen translations from the French, about one makes an impression. A little domestic drama, brought out at the Princess's, under the title of The Violet, forms one of the happy exceptions. The story is simple and touching, and treated with admirable skill, Wallack coming out as an old tender-hearted man of humble class, with a force and pathos that have created quite a sensation, At the French Theatre that gentlemanlike finished actor, Lafont, is at present the star, Cartigny, one of the finest, richest comedians that ever lived, is, as usual, a permanent member of the company. The theatre has been fitted up with great elegance, and the entertainments have been as varied as possible. END OF THE SECOND VOLUME. 3, no.16 The Phases of Love. A ROMANCE OF MODERN TIMES. BY THE EDITOR. Man's love is in man's life a thing apart- CHAPTER I. But truce with kings, and truce with constitutions, Let majesty your first attention summon ! Ah! ça ira! the majesty of wOMAN!-BURNS. Well ye know What woman is; for none of woman born Can choose but drain the bitter cup of woe, Which ever to the oppressed from the oppressors' flow!-SHELLEY. "To know that we know nothing"-at least as it ought to be known-has been so frequently asserted, and so constantly proved to be the extreme altitude of human acquirement on any subject, that even in these latter days of would-be-omnicience we venture to re-assert the truism. The mere tyro alone conceives himself to be wise as he advances in knowledge, he advances in modesty -one of the early virtues of the wise-until at length he is well contented to claim and to merit the appellation, "a lover of wisdom." Whatever be our favourite study, however unremitting and protracted our application to it, we still find it to be in some measure beyond our grasp. Parts we may master, the whole never! On commencing a pursuit we see before us some point, on arriving at which we shall, as we think, be perfectly satisfied with our acquirements, and be able to sit down contented, as having learnt all that is to be known in that branch of science. But one elevation gained after another only serves to show us how much yet remains undone; what toil, what patience, what untiring perseverance must still be ours, if we would attain the VOL III. B coveted height, until at length we ascend to the full conviction that the search after the Ultima Thule is in vain! The summits of the Andes are lost in the clouds, and far, far above them soar the tremendous peaks of Himalaya. In point of fact, the grand use of the ardent study of any subject whatever, is not so much to accumulate barren facts as to enlarge the general powers of the mind; to train it to the effort of protracted application, and to give a firmer and broader basis of general principles to its reasoning faculties; the greater, therefore, our proficiency in any study, the more confirmed is our conviction of the impossibility of attaining on earth that which was destined to exist only in heaven-PERFECTION. We venture to make these preliminary observations, because we are conscious of the difficulties that must ever attend a treatise on that most incomprehensible of all subjects, the human heart; and because we would willingly enlist the sympathies, and deprecate the too severe criticisms of our readers, while endeavouring to trace some of its workings. Although from the period when our venerable tutor first quoted to us the hackneyed aphorism, "the proper study of mankind is man," and we forthwith reduced his precept to practice (to our own infinite satisfaction), by consigning our Latin Grammar somewhat unceremoniously to its shelf, and betaking ourselves to an ancient gra'm'er* of the neighbourhood, whose lectures in that interesting study were illustrated through the medium of her "auld warld" stories up to the present time, when years, and sorrow, and the changes and chances of a wandering active life, have left their usual visible traces in the form of snowy locks and a furrowed brow, and convinced us, by bitter experience, of the truth of her cautions, and of the utter fallacy of all bright and happy visions if peopled by "man born of woman;" although (we repeat), we have studied both theoretically and practically, in a manner that few have had leisure, or inclination to do, that particular branch of knowledge so strongly recommended by Pope and our Dominie, ever making it the grand, nay, almost the sole object of our life, still we are far, very far from possessing the conceit that would lead us to say we know the heart of man-still less of woman. But we may admire yon rippling stream, winding as it does through the valley, fertilizing the adjoining meadows, and beautifying the landscape, although we can neither trace its source, nor analyze its waters; we feel the devastating effects of a volcanic eruption, although we comprehend not the laws which occasion it; we witness with wonder and awe a conflict of the elements, although we know not how or why the storm rages; and, though we presume not to arrogate to ourselves the credit of having sounded the unfathomable depths of woman's heart, we * A south-country contraction of " grandmother." have watched the outward evidences of inward working, until we have persuaded ourselves we can find no better, nor more universally interesting topic than the PHASES of her LOVE. We take the words in their fullest extent; for although the passion usually so denominated, does unquestionably mould, more than than any other event, the character of woman; although she is so constituted as to comprehend the full meaning of the poet who speaks of "the strong necessity of loving;" although in the exquisite faithfulness and fidelity which usually characterize it, and place so strong a line of demarcation between its development in her sex and our own, in the entire unselfishness, the deep devotion it calls into action, woman's love is the most lovely thing this world holds. I know not whether woman does not appear in a still more charming light under the influence of affections equally endearing, if less romantic ;-I mean as a sister, a mother, a wife, a friend, surrounded by the sweet charities and domestic duties of home. And though these affections are not usually considered (like the attachment of a maiden for her lover) as legitimate subjects of romance, it must be conceded that no work could be considered to possess even pretensions to completeness, which, professing to treat of woman's love, omitted those illustrations of its depth and purity, which are called into exercise by the occurrences of social life and every-day occupation The design of this work, then, is to exemplify the influence of that passion on a woman's life; to trace its good or evil effects through her whole history; to show the difficulties, the trials, the sorrows, which make up, for the most part, her catalogue of events from the cradle to the grave. A noble author has, during the last few years, described the position which Englishwomen once held. We will transcribe his account ere we pass to the present state of things. Then, too, was gallantry, in words and deed, The leading feature in our nation's creed; A humble plaything for man's idle hours But all unworthy of his higher powers. No; she was loved, and honoured, and revered; To every heart and sympathy endeared. And for her very weakness precious deemed. But England has greatly altered during the last half century, and in no respect more than in the position of her daughters. We speak not of the higher orders; of those whose lords are equally exempt by rank and wealth from the cares of the world and its fluctuations-we allude to the great body of the peoplethe middling classes of society. Here, amidst the general rage for accumulation, and the unparalleled distress which have from time to time visited our land, the greater number are expected to take as active a share in providing for the necessities of their family as do their fathers and husbands. The unmarried seek a home (oh! what desecration of the word!) among strangers, where their position is scarcely bearable even while health blesses them, and they satisfy the caprices of their employers; and the wives, (still more luckless!) toil from day to day, whatever may be the claims that family cares may have on their time and thoughts; expected frequently by their reasonable husbands to bring an equal sum with themselves into the public purse, and to save and spare in everything except the luxuries and necessities of their lords. On the condition of wives we will not dwell-it is past cure, if not past care-but on the position of those who are not so hopelessly bound we would say a few words. As long as they have a home of their own to which they can retire, the strong sense of duty may impart to them some degree of happiness; their servitude may be just bearable. But what pen can describe her desolation who is alone in the world, without any legitimate claim on the affection or tenderness of any human being, but those few who admit the universal claim which must exist among the children of men, as descended from one common parent, and equally under the guidance and protection of one Supreme Power. Apart from all the labour and anxiety, and care inseparable from such a lot, there is one privation which gentle woman is ill-calculated to sustain, and which, endured, is the added drop of bitterness which fills the already full cup to overflowing. It is the privation of affectionate and kindly intercourse. She has none on whom to expend the tide of warm and deep affections that centre in a woman's heart; none to whom she can confide her hopes, her fears, her love, and the weary existence which she drags out in chilled and heartless inanity, in vain efforts to provide honestly for the present, and lay up some little store for the winter of old age, when rest is no longer a luxury but a necessity; this existence is too often illumined only by professions destined to deceive or to betray. Solitary indeed is her lot; mournful her position; and, alas! the very causes which should operate to procure for her the respect and protection of the lordly part of creation, are only, according to the fashionable code of morals, so many reasons for cold neglect, or palliations for the criminality of insult. That a woman has no father, no brother, no protection, "save innocence and heaven," is a circumstance used by most of us to aid us in depriving her of innocence or peace. Has not woman enough to endure without this? Heaven knows the privations, the hardships, the trials, daily encountered by thousands of the softer sex, are such as would appal many a hardy veteran, whose pulse would not give one extra throb amidst the horrors of a battle-field or the dangers of a hurricane. For theirs is patient uncomplaining endurance, of days of toil and nights of anxiety; of bitter retrospection and cheerless futurity; of heartcorroding care, and all the cold anguish of the mental sickness |