REMARKS.

The Child of Nature.

It is the opinion of some philosophers that man has no innate ideas that the phenomenon called the mind, is nothing more than an association of ideas, derived from education and intercourse with the world. This was the foundation upon which Locke built his system, but, as he proceeded with it, he became so entangled amidst the briers and thorns of controversy, so lost and bewildered in the maze that he had planted for himself, that he went round and about till his head turned giddy; and, without making any satisfactory progress in unravelling the labyrinth of the mind, he was fain to escape at the point from whence he had first set out. An hypothesis involving one grand contradiction, requires innumerable lesser ones to support it as a disciple of Major Longbow adopts fifty supernumerary lies to give credence and authority to the original! Locke's theory neither convinced himself nor his disciples. We may, perhaps, say of it, that (like the Mussulman's hog) "from tail to snout 'tis eaten"-but no one swallows it entire

"Say what he will,
'Tis a pill,

Bitter to swallow, and hard of digestion!"

Indeed, any system that requires so many words to demonstrate its truth, may be reasonably suspected of fallacy. It is a saying of antiquity, that we willingly believe what we wish to be true-could Locke desire the truth of a theory so humiliating to human nature? We think better of him: hence, we are equally sceptical of his belief in it but your philosopher, like ordinary folk, will have his freaks. The greater the sophism, the more he bethumps it with argument: be uses it, not according to its deserts, but after his own honour and dignity-considering that, the less it deserves, the more merit is in his giving! Doctor Johnson was sometimes an amusing example of this philosophical ingenuity. he would hum and ha between two questions; upon which, Garrick slyly remarked, "Aye, now he is considering which side he shall take!

We are not for circumscribing to such narrow limits the glorious instincts of man:

"Tis the divinity that stirs within us!"

That raises our nature high above the brute level, to which it has been the pride and ambition of some philosophers to reduce and degrade it. Do we deny the influence of education? Certainly not. Man is happy or miserable, inasmuch as he is virtuous or depraved; and virtue and depravity are, for the most part, the fruits of precept and example, be they good or evil. It is only when philosophy proudly erects its head above infinite wisdom-when it would be the first instead of the second cause, that we pull it down and put it in its right place. The infant mind has been compared to a sheet of paper, that is pure and unsullied, upon which we may inscribe whatever we please—-Amanthis is an illustration of this comparison. Secluded from the world from infancy to womanhood, and educated in so peculiar a manner as to prevent her from being aware of it corruption, even through the never-failing medium of books, her heart retains its original innocence and simplicity; and she grows up an almost perfect being, unsophisticated, intellectual, and pure. How delightful to contemplate such an object! How melancholy to reflect that it should ever know sorrow, even from beholding it in others! The character of Amanthis is tenderly drawn: she is frank as one unconscious of evil; affectionate, without any other feeling than that of gratitude; and, when a softer emotion is awakened in her bosom, her gentleness and truth only take a more animated turn, and claim a still higher place in our regard.

The Marquis is endued with true nobility of soul-his fidelity to the sacred trust reposed in him, renders him every way worthy of such a treasure as Amanthis. The Count and the Marchioness are just such a couple as we desire to see united, that their fickleness and caprice may torment nobody but themselves. And the Duke is one of those headstrong, choleric old gentlemen, whose eccentricities serve to amuse us during the progress of the plot, and whose good humour comes in time to wind it up, and conciliate all parties.

The Child of Nature is taken from the Zelie of Madame Genlis and in many respects bears a strong resemblance to "The School for Lovers." It is the production of Mrs. Inchbald. The language is easy and elegant, and the little humour it contains sprightly and natural. We have seen various ladies of different sorts and sizes in the character of Amanthis

"Pretty, ugly, black-hair'd, red-hair'd,

Six feet, three feet-"

And Miss Foote among the rest; but no real Amanthis did we ever see, but Mrs. Jordan.

DG.

STAGE DIRECTIONS.

The Conductors of this Work print no Plays but those which they have 1 een acted. The Stage Directions are given from personal observation, during the most recent performances.

EXITS AND ENTRANCES.

R. means Right; L. Left; R. D. Right Door; L. D. Left Door; C. D. F. or M. D. Centre Door in the Flat; R. D. F. Right Door in the Flat; L. D. F. Left Door in the Flat, or the Scene running across the back of the Stage; R.S. E. Right Second Entrance; R. U. E. Right Upper Entrance; L. S. E. Left Second Entrance: L. U. E. Left Upper Entrance.

RELATIVE POSITIONS.

R. means Right; L. Left; C. Centre; R. C. Right of Centre; L C. Left of Centre.

R.

RC.

C.

LC.

L.

The Reader is supposed to be on the Stage facing the Audience.

Costume.

DUKE MURCIA.-Puce-coloured velvet coat, and breeches; white satin waistcoat, richly embroidered with star, &c.

MARQUIS ALMANZA.-Brown cloth coat and breeches; white satin waistcoat, very richly embroidered with silver.

COUNT VALANTIA.-Blue regimental coat, laced with silver, and pair of epaulets; white cassimere breeches, silk hose, &c.

SEVILLE.-Plain blue coat, white waistcoat, and

breeches.

GRANADA.-Mixed coat; striped waistcoat; buff

breeches.

ALBERTO.-Brown suit, with steel buttons; and plain large disguise.

PEASANT.-Slate-coloured jacket and breeches. MARCHIONESS MERIDA.-Very rich silver tissue dress, trimmed with satin and silver. AMANTHIS.-Plain white leno.

Cast of the Characters at the Theatre-Royal, CoventGarden, 1825.

THE CHILD OF NATURE.

ACT I

SCENE I.-A Saloon.

Enter SEVILLE, L., followed by COUNT VALANTIA and GRANADA.

Sev. My lord, it was very fortunate the accident happened so near this house. Please to rest yourself in this apartment, while I give the necessary orders about mending your carriage. But I am afraid it cannot be refitted before to-morrow.

Count. No matter; besides, I shall be extremely happy in seeing your lord, the Marquis Almanza. Did not you say, you expected him home some time to-day? Sev. Yes, we expect him every hour. Has your lordship any further commands?

Count. No; only be so kind as to see to the repairing my chaise.

Sev. I shall. Bows, and exit. Count. Well, here I am in the castle of Almanza, and so far success has crowned my adventure.

Gran. And what the design of that adventure can be, am at a loss to guess. All this stratagem and mystery looks very much like some scheme contrived by love; and, if not directed by love, is something like madness.

Count. I have for many years tried thy fidelity, and will now confide in it. Love is the source of all my schemes.

Gran. Do you then not love your intended bride, the beautiful Marchioness?

Count. The Marchioness Merida is a charming crea