MARIA DARLINGTON. they, by their condemnation, prevent her effectually being a member of that society she in some degree forfeited; but which she has now an opportunity of again entering. In doing so, he is influenced by no other than a compassionate motive; unknown equally to the lady as to the world, he can only consider her as an unfortunate woman, and, as such, deserving his and every one's cominiseration. The circumstances which clouded Maria's first entrance into life would be sufficient, in the eyes of a benevolent being, to exonerate her from the charge of wilful perversion from honorable principles. The offspring of parents in whose eyes the acquirement of wealth, as the means of obtaining the luxuries of life, was predominant to that praiseworthy and upright sentiment which in truth only exalt one man above his fellows, with a father whose course of life had not secured the good opinion of the world,-with a mother who, in consequence of her unfortunate marriage, had been too reckless of her subsequent reputation,-it cannot be said that Maria erred from a good example. If, in the dawn of her years, when her bosom was first susceptible to the impression of good and bad principles, she saw not encouragement from a virtuous course, more than ordinary credit is due to her for avoiding a contrary one, and preserving a spotless reputation and irreproachable character, which she did for the principal part of her life; till her unfortunate intimacy with the individual, the principal cause of her subsequent unhappiness. The character of this person is unfortunately too well known to the world to reqnire a description. The patron of prize-fighters, the encourager of every degrading sport that tends to brutalize and degenerate the mind, he still possessed, either from nature or fortune, sufficient recommendations for the success of more refined amusements; the theatre, the ballroom,-in short, in every sphere, high or low, in which pleasure reigned supreme, he was the living spirit. The profession which either necessity or inclination had compelled Maria to adopt threw her frequently into his society. From the bad example which had misled her at her home, where dissipation and splendor were greedily sought after, and the milder and more endearing qualities of her nature neglect ed and despised, Maria was too sensible of the admiration that he, in concord with a thousand others, lavished on her, concealing the baseness of his purpose 311 under the most sacred of pledges. Why was she wrong in listening to him? It was not the mere selfish desire of aggrandizing means which would procure her the possession of those luxuries she unfortunately had a zest for: he was the choice of her breast; and constancy to him, when stung by his meanness and neglect, is the best proof that her affection was disinterested. Did ever pity weep for a more deserving object? Exposed, by her situation as a public character, to every opportunity and temptation that could possibly weau her young heart from those principles of honour and virtue she cherished so fondly,-restless for the enjoyment of distinctions which Fortune had placed out of her reach, she is met by one who promises to realize the wildest dreams of her hopes. Under the most sacred of promises, he takes advantage of the confidence she unreservedly places in him; and she is left to the mercy of a misjudging world, and to those whose envy the superiority of her talents and her personal charms have awakened. Yet how does this truly erroneous, yet still amiable woman act towards the man who has showered on her head this dreadful visitation of deceit and cruelty? Does she forsake him? Does she think, because the first step is taken on the road of vice, that the paths of virtue are to be abandoned for ever? No: malicious as her enemies were, indefatigable as they shewed themselves in raking up every past action of her life, not a shadow could they produce, at a time when, above all others, it would most have weeded them-saving her unfortunate connection with the man who first betrayed her, that could in any way injure her otherwise unblameable reputation. The veil of deception does not long blind her sight: she soon finds, to her bitter disappointment, that the bosom in which she treasured up all her hope and confidence, she ought most to have avoided; that the being for whom she has sacrificed the good opinion of the world is the last in it to restore her to its estimation. Deceived, insulted, and despised, from the very quarter where she looked for truth and protection, she receives an offer which promises to restore her ta that station in society she has so unfortunately relinquished, in the appearance of a suitor of fortune, family, and rank. How does she act? Though her own bosom has been made the target for the arrows of deceit, she proves herself incapable of showing it to another, In the praiseworthy hope of being restored once more to those whose estimation she has forfeited, she relinquishes every hope of an alliance more honorable, and with an object she cannot help still regarding more dear her expectations are wrought to the highest; she places every thing on them, and she finds her She is once more speculation rotten. deluded; has become once more the sport of the heartiess and depraved. Her country, indeed, expresses satisfaction at her conduct, by awarding her a pecuniary compensation, which, had she been otherwise than what she is represented to be, it would not have done; and it only now remains for her fellow-countrywomen to regard her in the same light as if the man who had pledged his faith to her had fulfilled it: let not the punishment be inflicted on the victim of duplicity on those who have disappointed her, and deceived her, it should fall without reserve. The breach of a promise of that sacred engagement, under any circumstances, must be wounding and mortifying in the highest degree to a woman of the slightest sensibility; but when it falls on the head of a poor unfortunate being, who has lamentably lost the good opinion of the world, and has, through that means, an opportunity' of regaining it, the disappointment must be, beyond measure, rankling and severe: it is like depriving the shipwreck ed mariner of the last remaining plank which he has clung to, just as he has reached the shore, and sending him once more adrift on the co'd and pitiless ocean. Smiles and Tears, just published. THE PORTFOLIO. THE CONVERZATIONE OF THE EDITOR. CHESTERFIELD, whose consummate knowledge of mankind will never be disputed, observes, that the world in variably form their opinion of a man by his first address. If this be pleasing, they are disposed to think favorably of his pretensions; if rude, abrupt, doubtful, or in any way unpleasing, they form a corresponding opinion of his conduct as to the objects of his undertaking, The Editor is deeply impressed with this truth, and deems it both necessary and becoming for a writer to seek the favorab`e opinion of his readers in the outset, to present himself in such a way as to secure at least a patient, if not an attentive auditory, to say something at the first meeting of his friends of promise and of hope. The Editor, however, considers that to occupy any considerable portion of a short paper in what Johnson terms, "The vain expedients of softening censure by apology, or rousing attention by abruptness," would be not only out of place, but destructive of the very end he so seriously and unaffectedly desires to obtain. Immediately connected with the origin and establishment of the cheap periodical press, the Editor has its prosperity and public estimation seriously at heart; and, although at present little connected with its progress, he watches and regards it always with anxiety, and not unfrequently with the painful feelings of disappointed hope. He speaks thus of the periodical press, but in the way of pledge that the little nook he occupics in it shall be worthily filled; and with this, his bow of address, he proceeds. It will conduce to the ease of the reader, and to the general perspicuity of the paper, to observe that such articles or passages as have no signature are written by the Editor himself. This will in general appear also from the manner, chiefly with respect to the first person singular. The first person plural will probably be used only in such occasional sentences as refer to the Editor and the Reader in the joint consideration of any subject. The royal pronoun we will never be used in the same manner adopted by anonymous writers to denote the concealed individual. ACCOUNT OF THE ORIGINAL PHANTASMAGORIA. It was my intention to bave given in the present paper a sketch of a little imaginary circle of friends, young and old, whom I should have treated as the dramatis personæ of the piece, and through whom, and by whom, all its business will be conducted. A certain circle of real and substantial personages have, however, set forth their young wants and wishes in a strong petition to us, and have prayed in most loyal terms, that, in consideration of the present inclement, and (according to immemorial usage) very merry-making season, we would, at least for one number, forego such our intentions, and would graciously please to fulfil the promises held out and made in a certain proclamation (see Prospectus,) issued under authority, when they were very little boys. Supported (and as we shrewdly suspect instigated) by certain influence which such young rebels can always secure, and which is found to prevail in every well regulated court, they have prevailed. That the reader may judge for himself of the propriety of our condescension to the humble request of these petitioners, let him peruse the subjoined public promise, which the rogues had somehow or other procured, (for it was issued many years ago,) and inserted it in their petition, and I have little doubt but he will, as I did, wonder that the subject should ever have been so long laid on the shelf. Here is the document: "Preparing for the press a Descriptive Essay on the Instrument vulgarly termed the Magic Lantern, with plates and wood cuts, which will contain complete instructions for the more perfect management and the more extensive and rational use of this most curious instru ment in its present improved state; and an account of the various instruments and contrivances for exhibiting optical deceptions; a description of various simple and amusing combinations to be made with the Magic Lantern, and distinct instructions for the choice and management of the colours, &c. used in painting the slides, which enables persons who can draw in water colours, to paint very superior slides themselves; directions for fitting up portable theatres of optical amusement at a small expense, dissertations on the probability of optical deceptions having been used during the dark ages to overawe the ignorant, and the eligibility of now employing the same means to promote and simplify the objects of general education." 313 DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT OF THE ORIGI NAL PHANTASMAGORIA OF THE most striking and happy application of the Magic Lantern was made in the winter of 1801 by M. Philipsthal, an ingenious Frenchman. The novelty consisted in placing the lantern on the opposite side of the screen which receives the images, instead of on the same side as the spectator, in the old manner, and suffering no light to appear but what passes through, and tends to form those images; the sliders were therefore perfectly opake, except that portion upon which the transparent figures are drawn, and the exhibition is thus conducted. All the lights of the small theatre of exhibition were removed, except one hanging lamp, which could be drawn up so that its flame should be perfectly enveloped in a cylindrical chimney or opake shade. In this gloomy and wavering light, the curtain was drawn up, and presented to the spectator a cave or place exhibiting skeletons, and other figures of terror, in relief, and painted on the sides or walls. After a short interval the lamp was drawn up, and the audience were in total darkness, succeeded by thunder and lightning; which last appearance was formed by the magic lantern upon a thin cloth or screen, let down after the disappearance of the light, and consequently unknown to most of the spectators. These appearances were followed by figures of departed men, ghosts, skeletons, transmutations, &c. produced on the screen by the magic lantern on the other side, and moving their eyes, mouth, &c. by a well-known contrivance of two or more sliders. The transformations were effected by moving the adjusting tube of the lantern out of the focus, and changing the slider at the moment of the confused appearance. It must be again remarked, that these figures appear without any surrounding circle of illumination, and that the spectators, having no previous view or knowledge of the screen, nor any visible object of comparison, are each left to imagine the distance according to their respective fancy. After a very short time of exhibiting the first figure, it was seen to contract gradually in all its dimensions, until it became extremely small, and then vanished. This effect, as may easily be imagined, is produced by bringing the lantern nearer and nearer the screen, taking care at the same time to preserve the distinctness, and at last closing the aperture in which A A is a tin case or box, with a close fitting door at its back, and a high chimney B to convey off the smoke and heat from an argand lamp C. D is a lens of four inches diameter, and plano convex, of eight inches focal length, between which and the lamp is placed the painting to be exhibited. A long tube E (say of 18 inches,) proceeds from the large lens, and a smaller lens F of about two inches in diameter, and seven inches focal length, is fixed in a short cylindrical frame G, which is covered on its flat and circular edge with cloth, and is moved or adjusted back and forwards in the tube E by a rack H, as the figure is required to be produced larger or smaller. (To be continued.) CHRONOLOGY FOR THE YEAR 1824. MARCH. 1. MR. ABERCROMBIE Complains in the House of Commons of the conduct of the Lord Chancellor, for having noticed in open Court what had passed in the House, and for having declared a statement of Mr. Abercrombie's respecting the Court of Chancery to be an utter falsehood. The House refuse to interfere. 8. Lord Byron sells his valuable Manor of Rochdale, in Lancashire, at a very low sum, supposed to be 31,0001., in order to apply the produce to the assistance of the Greeks. 8. The House of Commons come to CHRONOLOGY OF 1824. a resolution that the duties and drawbacks on the exportation of silk shall cease on the 25th of this month, and that in July, 1826, the importation of foreign silks shall be allowed on the payment of 30 per cent. duty. The silk weavers surround the House of Commons in great numbers, and present a petition by Mr. Burton, inscribed on crimson silk, against the proposed alteration of the laws. 10. The niece of Lord Bathurst, while taking a ride on horseback by the banks of the Tiber at Rome, is suddenly thrown into the river by the fall of her horse, and drowned. 11. The officers of the 10th hussars ridiculed in a new Comedy brought out at Covent-garden Theatre, called, "Pride shall have a Fall." 12. The Dey of Algiers, intimidated by the declaration of war on the part of England, surrenders all the Spanish prisoners he had lately taken. 15. The Marquis of Lansdown moves, in the House of Lords, that an Address be presented to the King, praying him to acknowledge the independence of the Spanish South American colonies. Lord Liverpool moves, as an amendment, that the House is satisfied with the measures already adopted. The amendment is agreed to. The House of Commons refuse to abolish flogging in the army. 16. Mr. Canning obtains leave to bring in a Bill to render more effectual the Laws against Slave-trading, by gradually effecting the freedom of the blacks in the West Indies. 17. Mr. Hobhouse presents a petition to the House of Commons from Mr. Worgman, a jeweller, praying that Noblemen may be allowed to exercise their influence at elections openly, and that the proprietors of close boroughs may send their nominees to the House without the trouble of an election. 19. At Cordova the Exaltados succeed in murdering ten persons, in pursuance of a plot to assassinate all the Constitutionalists on this day, being the feast of St. Joseph. 20. One of the sons of Mr. Henderson, Consul-General at Colombia, destroyed by an alligator, whilst bathing in the river Magdalena. 21. Captain Sir George Ralph Collier, in a state of mental derangement, occasioned by some severe reflections on his conduct in "James's History of the late Naval War," puts a period to his existence by cutting his throat with a razor. Dreadful fire in the Arsenal Bar 315 racks at Cairo, which destroyed 0000 men, several powder magazines, a field of artillery, and an immense quantity of ammunition, which had been prepared for an expedition against the Greeks. 22. The collection of pictures of the late John Julius Angerstein, Esq., 38 in number, purchased by Government at the sum of 57,0001. as the commencement of a national gallery. Sir George Beaumont liberally gives his pictures to the public for the same purpose. A company formed at St. Petersburgh under the auspices of the Emperor of Russia, to unite the Black Sea to the Baltic, by canals from the Dnieper and Niemen. (To be continued in our next.) LETTERS OF TATE WILKINSON TO MATHEWS, THE COMEDIAN. THERE are kings who have never been crowned; and such, in his way, was honest Tate Wilkinson-the most morose of managerial monarchs. His person and manner are as familiar to the town by Mr. Mathews's personification of them in his "youthful days," s if they had not passed away. We shall, therefore, add to the interest and curiosity of the picture by connecting it with one or two of his youthful despatchesand the rather as they refer to the "youthful days" of other persons, about whom the town is, in the present day, still more interested. It will be seen by the following that there is no such thing as mounting the ladder of distinction without treading the lowermost steps of it, however soiled they may be. We here see the most successful actor of the day, at the beck and call of a man who now only lives in his personification of him. The address will remind the reader of what Mathews relates-that Tate ever called a person twice by the same name. To Mr. Maddox, or Mathews, Theatre, Carmarthen. 39 Hull, Feb. 10, 98. Sir-As a man in the mountains, and not known on change, added to your express desire of being here, convinces me you have misunderstood my meaning for engaging you in June next-I shall want a comedian that can strike the audience well, as to say, "this will do,' and then advance your situation. And as to coming out in a first situation, and the business you wrote for, no such thing can be complied with. Mr. Emery is in full possession of fame and characters so suit your convenience as to staying away. If you are with me at |
