against one John Jones, a native of Britain, for debt, and that they had reason to believe he was in the vessel. The captain said he did not believe he had any such passenger on board, but informed them that they were perfectly at liberty to search the ship. During this conversation the other officer kept his eye fixed on Johnny Armstrong, and when rejoined by his comrade, seemed to inform him-for their language was not understoodthat there was something about that person well worthy of his attention. They now both looked at Johnny, and appeared both convinced that he was a fit subject for further inquiry. Accordingly, one of them addressed him:

"Your name vas John Jones, Mynheer."

"No, sir," said Johnny," my name's John Armstrong."

"Ah, a small shange-dat is all. You vas John, and he vas John, and you be both John togidder; so, you must come to de shore wid us."

"Donner and blitzen!" shouted out one of the men passionately, "but you must go!"-at the same time seizing Johnny by the collar, and drawing a pistol from his bosom.

In utter amazement at this extraordinary treatment, Johnny Armstrong imploringly called on the captain and the other passengers for protection; but, as none of them were in the least acquainted with him, and therefore did not know whether he was John Jones or not, they all declined interfering-the captain saying that it would be more than his ship and situation were worth, to aid any one in resisting the laws of the country; that he could not, dare not do it. His appeals therefore, to those arouud him, being vain, he was eventually bundled into the cutter, and conveyed on shore, placed in a temporary place of confinement for the night, and next day carried before a magistrate to be identified. To effect this, several witnesses were called, when one and all of them, after examining Johnny pretty narrowly, pronounced, to the great disappointment of the officers who apprehended him, that he was not the man! They however, asserted that the resemblance between the real and supposed John Jones, was very remarkable. On the discovery being made that the prisoner was not Jones, the magistrate apologized to Johnny in the most polite terms, for the trouble he had been put to, and expressed great regret for the mistake of the officers; but said, that as the witnesses had stated that there was a strong resemblance-an unfortunate one, he must call itbetween him and the real defaulter, and seeing, moreover, that they were both natives of Britain, the officers were perfectly justified in doing what they had done, however much the hardship of the case might be matter of regret. The magistrate having thus delivered himself, Johnny Armstrong was dismissed with great civility, and wished by all present, safe home to his own country-a wish in which he most heartily concurred, but which seemed to him more easily entertained than gratified. Ou regaining his liberty, the first thing he did was to endeavour to find out when the next ship sailed for Scotland; he, having of course, lost that in which he had first embarked; and to his great consternation and dismay, learnt, that there would be no vessel for a fortnight. This was sad intelligence to Johnny; for, to add to his other distresses, his funds were now waxing low, and he felt that it would require the utmost economy to enable him to spin out the time, and leave sufficient to pay his passage to his native land. This economy he could very easily have practised at home, for he had a natural tendency that way, but he did not know how to set about it in a foreign country. His unhappiness and anxiety on this point were very great. In this dilemma, he bethought him of again seeking out and quartering on his friend, Vander Dunder, of Slootzsloykin, till the vessel should sail; but not having, of course, a word of Dutch, he could make no enquiry on the subject of his route, or indeed

of anything regarding his friend at all. This idea, therefore, he ultimately abandoned, principally through a fear that he should, by some mistake, be dispatched upon a wrong scent-a species of disaster to which he was now so sensitively alive, that he would neither turn to the right nor to the left, without having made himself perfectly sure that he was about to take the right course; and as to conveyances of all kinds, of which he now entertained an especial suspicion, he had prudently determined that he would know every particular about them and their destinations, before he would put foot in one of them; for he had found, from dear-bought experience, that if he did not take this precaution, the chance was, that he would never reach the place he desired to get at, and might be whisked away to some unknown country, where he would never more be heard of.

Under this wholesome terror, Johnny made no attempt to find out his friend, Vander Dunder; but chance effected, in part at least, what his limited knowledge of Dutch put it out of his power, with set purpose to accomplish. On turning the corner of a street, who should he have the good fortune to meet with but Vander Dunder? The astonishment of the good Dutchman on seeing Johnny was great-so great indeed, as to overcome the natural phelgm of his constitution. Holding up his hands in amazement

"Mine Got, my friend! are you shipwrack agen?" he exclaimed.

"No, no," quoth Johnny-" bad aneuch, but no just sae bad as that." And he proceeded to inform his friend of the real state ot the case.

The good natured Dutchman was shocked at the recital, and felt ten times more than ever for Johnny's unhappy situation and complicated misfortunes. When he had concluded his affecting

story

"I tell you what you do, mine goot friend," said Vander Dunder-" you go vith me to Slootzsloykin, and you remain vith me dere till your ship sail. You do dat mine goot friend." "Wi' a' my heart," said Johnny, "and muckle obleeged to ye for yer kindness "

"No, no; no obleege at all," replied the kind hearted Dutchman, impatiently, "You do the same to me in your country, if I was shipwrack and in misfortune, and put to trooble for an innocent thief."

"Aweel, maybe I wad; but, nevertheless, it's kind o'you to offer me the shelter o' yer roof," replied Johnny.

Dunder Vander Dunder, now took his friend into a tavern and treated him to a glass of schnaps. Shortly thereafter the two embarked in a canal boat for Slootzsloykin, where they finally arrived in safety. Here Johnny met with the same kind treatment as before; and of that kindness there was no abatement during the whole fortnight of his sojourn, At the end of this period, Johnny Armstrong once more set out for Rotterdam, on the day previous to the sailing of the vessels, in which he now hoped to reach his native land without further molestation or interruption. And certainly everything had the appearance of going right on this occasion. The vessel with Johnny on board sailed at the appointed time, and before embarking, he had read distinctly on the ticket—a large black board with yellow letters, which was fastened to the shrouds-that she was bound for Leith, and was the identical vessel he had had in his eye. So far as this went, there could be no mistake whatever. There was indeed one little circumstance that startled Johnny, but which he had not discovered till the vessel had been some time at sea. This was, that all the crew were Dutchmen, there not being a Scotchman amongst them. The circumstance did not indeed, greatly alarm Johnny, but he certainly did think it a little odd; for he naturally expected that as she was a Leith vessel, her crew would be for the most part at any rate, natives of Britain. However he made no remarks on the subject, thinking it, as it really was, a matter of perfect indifference whether they were Scotchmen or Dutchmen. There were two or three

passengers in the vessel besides himself; but they were all foreigners too, so that he could hold no converse with any of them; and thus debarred from intercourse with his fellow voyagers, he sat by himself gazing from the deck of the vessel on the waste of waters with which he was surrounded, and musing on the strange series of mishaps of which he had so simply and innocently become the victim. It was while thus employedthe vessel having been now a good many hours at sea, and at the moment scudding away before a fine fresh breeze-tbat the captain approached Johnny, and in very polite and civil terms, demanded his passage money. As he spoke in Dutch however, the latter did not understand him. The captain observing this and now guessing what countryman he was, addressed him in very good English, and in that language repeated his demand. With this demand Johnny instantly complied; and finding that he was a civil, good-natured fellow, began to open up a little conversation with him. His first remark was, that he hoped they would have good weather. The captain hoped so too. His next remark was, that they had a fine breeze. The captain agreed with him-said it was a delightful breeze-and added that, if it continued to blow as it then blew for four-and-twenty hours, he expected they would be all safe at Rouen!

"At whar!" shouted out Johnny, looking aghast at the speaker.

"At Rouen, to be sure," repeated the captain, wondering at Johnny's amazement.

"Gude's mercy!" exclaimed Johnny, with dreadful energy, are ye no gaun to Leith ?-is this no a Leith boat?"

"Oh, no," said the captain, smiling; "this is the Rouen packet. Weré ye not aware of that, sir? You have got into a sad scrape, my friend, if you were not," he added, and now laughing outright at the dismal expression of Johnny's countenance. "Heaven hae a care o' me!" said Johnny, despairingly. "Did I no read distinctly on the ticket that was fastened to yer shroods. that ye were bound for Leith?"

"Yes, yes," replied the captain, "you may have seen such a ticket as you speak, and there was certainly such a ticket on our shrouds, as you say, but it did not refer to this ship, but to the vessel outside of us. We allowed the board to be exhibited on our shrouds merely to accommodate our neighbour, as it could not be read from his-he being on the outside, and we next the quay. That, my friend, is a piece of civility very commonly practised at seaports by one vessel to another, when similarly situated as we and they were. You will see it at all quays and wharfs?"

Johnny Armstrong groaned, but said nothing. At length however, he muttered in a tone of Christian-like resignation"The Lord's will be dune! I see it's settled that I am never to get hame again; but to be keepit gaun frae place to place owre the face o' the earth, like anither wanderin Jew. Gude hae a care o' me, but this is awfu'! It's judgement like."

It certainly was very remarkable, but not in the least mysterious. This new mistake of Johnny's, like all the rest, was a perfectly simple occurrence; and, like them, too, arose as plainly and naturally out of circumstances as it was possible for any effect to do from a cause. But, however this may be, the captainalthough he could not help laughing at the awkward predicament of his passenger-really felt for him, seeing the distress he was in, and was so much influenced by this feeling as to offer to convey him back to Rotterdam, to which, he said, he would return in two days, free of any charge; adding, with a smile, and with the kind intention of reconciling Johnny to what could not now be helped, that it was nothing. after all-that it would make a difference of only a few days-and that it would be always shewing him a little more of the world.

"Mony thanks to ye," said Johnny, perceiving and appreciating the friendly purpose of the captain; "and I'll e'en tak advantage o' yer kind offer; but, as to seein the world, by my faith, I've seen now about just as muckle o't as I want to see, and maybe

a trifle mair-a hantle mair, at ony rate, than ever I expected to see. Then, in a soliloquizing tone and manner-" God keep me, whar's Brechin noo! A' that I wanted, and a' that I intended, was to get to that bit paltry place; and, instead o' that, here am I within a stane cast o' the north pole, for aught I ken to the contrar, and, to a' appearances, no half dune wi't yet. Heaven kens whar I'll be sent niest!-maybe be landed on Owhyhee, or on some desert island, like another Robinson Crusoe. Na, it's certain, if things gang on muckle langer this way."

Of the drift or scope of these remarks, or, at any rate, of the feelings that dictated them, the captain could make nothing, not knowing Johnny's precise circumstances; nor did he seek to have them explained, but contented himself with repeating his offer of conveying Johnny back to Rotterdam, and renewing his well-meant efforts to reconcile him to his fate, in so far as his present voyage was concerned. In the meantime, the wind continued to blow in a manner perfectly satisfactory in every respect to all on board the Jungfrau of Rotterdam and Rouen; and, in about the space of time mentioned by the captain, the vessel reached her destination in safety. Johnny Armstrong, whose whole mind was absorbed by anxiety to reach that hame which he yet seemed destined uever again to see. he took no interest whatever in the scenes presented to him in the part of the world he was now in. Indeed, he never left the vessel at all, for fear she would slip through his fingers; for, if he was afraid of accidents of this kind before, he was ten times more so now; and, with this fear upon him, that the packet might, by some chance or other, escape him, he determined to stick by her never to loose sight of her for a moment, till she had conveyed him back to Rotterdam; and his vigilance ultimately secured the end he had in view. The Jungfrau sailed from Rouen with Johnny on board, and, in due time, deposit him once more at Rotterdam. But what was Johnny's surprise, what Dunder Vander Dunder's amazement, when they again encountered one another, aud that within ten minutes of the former's landing! The amazement of the latter, however, was, on this occasion, evidently mingled with a degree of suspicion of the perfect uprightness of Johnny's character. He began now to think, in short, that there had been more in the circumstance of Johnny's apprehension than he had been informed of. He did not like these frequent reappearances; he thought them very cdd-and he did not hesitate to say so.

"Mine Got! vat you here again for, man? Vat is de meaning of all dis, mine goot friend?" he exclaimed, with a somewhat dry and doubtful manner, quite at variance with the cordial tone of his former greetings.

Johnny Armstrong explained to him, but seemingly without obtaining implicit credence for all he said. When he had done"Tis veree odd," said Vander Dunder, coldly; verce straunge. But, you really vant to go to Scotlan, dere is vessel going to sail for Leet now, and I vill see you on board mineself."

It was very questionable whether Vander's civility, in this case, proceeded from a desire really to serve Johnny, or from a wish to get fairly rid of him. However this might be, Johnny readily accepted his offer, and at once accompanied him to the vessel he alluded to, which was, indeed, on the point of sailing. Vander, taking care that there should be no mistake in this case, conducted him down into the cabin, and waited on the quay till he saw the vessel fairly under weigh.

Having brought the disasters of Johnny Armstrong to this point, we proceed now to finish what we assure our readers, is an "owre true tale."

As we were strolling down the pier of Leith, with a friend, one afternoon in the year 18-, we saw a vessel making for the harbour. It was high water, and the scene altogether was a very pleasing and a very stirring one. But, amongst the objects of interest that presented themselves, there was none that attracted so much of our attention as the stately vessel that, with out

spread canvass, was rapidly nearing the pier. We asked a seaman who stood beside us, where she was from.

He replied " Rotterdam."

On approaching the pier, the vessel shortened sail, and, by this process, enabled us deliberately to scan her decks from our elevated position, as she glided gently along with us. During this scrutiny, we observed amongst the passengers, a stout little man in a brown greatcoat, with a large red comforter about his neck, and his hat secured on his head-for it was blowing pretty hard-by a blue pocket handkerchief, which was passed beneath his chin, and gave him, in a very particular manner, the peculiar air of a traveller or voyageur. There was nothing whatever in the appearance of the little man in the brown greatcoat which would have led any one to suppose. a priori, that there possibly could be anything remarkable or extraordinary in his history; but I was induced suddenly to change my opinion, or at least to take some interest in him, by my friend's exclaiming, in the utmost amazement, and, at the same time, pointing to him with the red comforter

"Gracious Heaven, if there is not Johnny Armstrong! Or it is his ghost?

"No ghost at all, we warrant you," said we; "ghosts do not generally wear greatcoats and red comforters. But who in all the world is Johnny Armstrong?"

"Johnny Armstrong," replied our friend, greatly excited, "is a person, a particular acquaintance of mine, who has been missing these six weeks; and who was supposed, by everbody who knew him, to have perished by some accident or other, but of what nature could never be ascertained, on his way to Brechin, where he had gone to visit some relations."

We felt interested in Johnny, by this brief sketch of his mysterious story; and, not a little curious to know where on earth he could possibly have been all the time; we readily closed with our friend's proposal to run round to the berth for which we saw the vessel was making, and to await his coming on shore. "But how, in all the world." said our friend, communing with himself during this interval," has he got into a vessel from Rotterdam? He could not have been there, surely? It's impossible."

As to this we could say nothing, not knowing at the time anything at all of Johnny's adventures; but of these we were not long kept in ignorance. On his stepping on shore, our friend seized him joyously by the hand, and expressed great satisfaction at seeing him again. This satisfaction appeared to be mutual; for Johnny returned his friend's grasp with great cordiality and warmth. The first salutations over

But where, on all the earth, Mr. Armstrong," said our friend, "have you been for these three months back?" Johnny smiled, and said it was owre lang a tale" to tell where we then were; but, as he meant to stop either in Leith or Edinburgh for the night, it being now pretty far in the evening, if my friend and I would adjourn with him to some respectable house, where he could get a night's quarters, be would give us the whole story of his adventures. With this proposal we readily closed; and on Johnny asking if we could point out such a house as he alluded to, we at once named the New Ship Tavern. Thither we accordingly repaired; and in less than two hours thereafter, we were put, good reader, in possession, by Johnny himself, of that part of his story to which the preceding pages have been devoted. What follows-for Johnny's misfortunes had not yet terminated-we learned afterwards from another quarter.

On the next day-we mean the day succeeding the evening we spent with Johnny-the latter proceeded to Edinburgh, with the view of taking coach there for Carlisle. But in making his way up Catherine Street, and, when precisely opposite No. 12, Calton Street-we like to be particular-Johnny found himself suddenly accosted by one of his oldest and most intimate friends. This was a Mr. James Stevenson, a fellow townsman and fellow shopkeeper of his own.

The astonishment of the latter, on meeting with Johnny, and indeed, of finding him at all in the land of the living, was very great; and he sufficiently expressed this feeling by the lively and highly excited manner in which he addressed him.

Having put the usual queries, with that air of intense interest which they naturally excited, as to where Johnny had been, what he had been about, &c. &c., and, having obtained a brief sketch of his adventures, with the promise of a fuller one afterwards, Mr. Stevenson, in reply, asked Johnny what course he was now steering.

"Hame to be sure," said Johnny with a smile. "It's time noo, I think I'm just sae far on my way to tak oot a ticket for the coach."

"Ye needna do that unless ye like," replied Johnny's friend. "Ye may save your siller, and no be abune an hour langer tarried, by takin a seat wi' me in the gig I hae in wi' me. I'm sure ye're welcome, and I'll be blythe o' your company."

"Hae ye a gig in wi' ye?" said Johnny, looking pleased by the intelligence.

"Deed hae I, Mr. Armstrong, and ye'll just clink down beside me in't."

"I'll do that wi' grea. thankfu'ness," replied Johnny, "and muckle obleeged by the offer."

The friends now went away, arm in arm together; and in about two hours afterwards-Mr. Stevenson having, in the mean time, dispatched what business he had to do in the city-they were both seated in the gig, and birring it on merrily towards Carlisle.

Neither Mr. Stevenson nor Johnny, however, were great whips a deficiency which was by no means compensated for by the circumstance of their having a rather spirited horse, although blind of an eye. He was, in truth, a troublesome animal; bog

gling and shying at everything that presented itself to his solitary optic. Notwithstanding this, the travellers got on very well for a time, and were whirling over the ground at a rapid rate, when an unlucky cart of hay came in their way at a narrow turn of the road. How this simple occurrence should have acted so unfavorably as it did for them, we shall explain.

A cart of hay is not a very alarming object to rational creatures like ourselves, but to the one-eyed horse of the travellers it appeared a very serious affair; for it had no sooner presented itself to his solitary organ of vision than he pricked up his ears, snorted furiously, and began to exhibit sundry other symptoms of disquietude. By dint, however, of some well directed punishment from Jamie Stevenson's whip, which Johnny increased by an energetic application of his stick, the restive animal was brought up to the waggon of hay; but, for some time, the inducements just mentioned failed to prevail upon him to pass it. At length, however, Johnny having added greatly to the vigour of his blows with the stick, and his neighbour to that of his strokes with the whip, the horse did pass the waggon, and that with a vengeance. Taking heart, or rather becoming desperate, be bolted past it with the rapidity of a cannon shot; and not only this, but when he had cleared it, continued the velocity of his movements with unabated energy, to the great discomfort and no small terror of Johnny and his companion, who now found themselves going at a rate which they had neither anticipated nor desired. Indeed, this was so very great that both directly saw that something was wrong. Both saw, in short, what was, indeed, too true, that the horse had run away with them; for he was now going like the wind, with fury and distraction in his looks. It was a shocking and most dreadfully alarming affair; and so Johnny and his friend felt it to be, as might be distinctly seen by their horror-stricken looks and flushed faces.

On discovering the predicament they were in, both the travellers the one dropping his whip, and the other his stickseized on the reins, and began pulling, with all their might, in the desperate hope of checking the animal's speed by main force; Johnny, in his terror, exclaiming the while, distractedly—

"Mair o't yet! Lord have a care o' me, but this is awfu'! This is waur than onything I hae met wi' yet. Waur than the Fifteen Sisters, Dutchmen, and a'. God be wi' us! are my misfortunes never to hae an end, till they hae finished me outricht? Am I never to get safe to either ae place or anither?—either to hame or to Brechin? surely ane o' them micht be permitted to O Jamie, see hoo he's gaun! he doesna seem to fin' us at his hurdles nae mair than if we war a pair o' preencushions."

me.

This was true enough. The horse in his fury did not seem to feel either them or the vehicle they were seated in, but pushed madly onwards, till he came to where the road divided itself into two distinct roads-the one being the right one, and the other of course the wrong-when, as if inspired by Johnny's evil genius, he at once took the latter, and in little more than twenty minutes, had him and his friend fully half as many miles out of their way. Now, however, the catastrophe was to be wound up. A milestone caught one of the wheels of the gig, canted it over, and threw Johnny sprawling on the road with a broken leg; his friend, although also thrown, escaping wholly unhurt.

"Aweel, here it's at last," said Johnny, sitting up in the mud amongst which he had been planted, and fully believing that his injuries were fatal. "Here it's at last. I'm clean dune for noo, after a' my escapes. It may be noo plainly seen, I think," he went on, "that some evil spirit has had me in its power, for these six weeks past, at ony rate, and has been growfin me aboot the world like a fitba,' to kill me wi' a gig at last."

Luckily, Johnny's injuries did not prove so serious as he had feared they would do; and no less fortunate was it that the accident to which they were owing happened not far from a small country town in which there was a resident surgeon. To the latter place Johnny was immediately removed on a temporary bier, hastily constructed for the purpose by some labouring men who chanced to be near the spot when the accident happened, and there he lay for six entire weeks, when the surgeon above alluded to, and who had attended him all that time, intimated to him that he might now venture to return home. Delighted with the intelligence, Johnny instantly acted on it, and next day entered Carlisle triumphantly in a post-chaise-not looking nor really being, after all, much the worse for his unprecedented adventures, save and except a lameness in the injured limb, which ever afterwards imparted to his movements the graceful-up-anddown motion produced by that peculiar longitudinal proportion of the nether limbs, designated by the descriptive definition of "a short leg and a shorter." Having, with this last occurrence, concluded the story of Johnny's disasters, we have only to add that Johnny has never, to this good hour, got the length of Brechin-nor will, he says, ever again make the attempt.

THE TRUE DIAMOND.

There is a diamond might burn

Alike for each and all,

O woe betide the ones that spurn
That spark in hut or hall;

For it warms the heart, awkes the eye,
'Tis radiant ev'ry where,

And cold the home, however high, if that lustre be not there!

Then O to make all voices wake,

In one accordant quire,

To sing the hearth-the warm bright hearth,

The homefelt, household fire!

That diamond spark, that bids the dark

Of moral evils flee

That can impart, to ev'ry beart,

The thrill sympathy.

Proud man, put by your pageantry,
Your mitres, sceptres, seals,
And look on wide humanity-
Each breathing atom feels.
Behold the universal beam,

That daily burns on high;
Behold the thousand stars that stream,
Along the orb-lit sky:

O spread a glow as bright on earth,
Which all alike require;

O kindle upon ev'ry hearth,

Sweet home's own household fire! That diamod spark that bids the dark Of vice and woe departThat, like the sun, warms ev'ry one, Who wears a human heart.

Be broken batons-sceptres cast
Into one general fire;

Let all the follies of the past,

In one wide blaze expire.
Give each the culture bumankind
Should ev'rywhere command,

The throbbing heart, the thinking mind,
The active foot and hand.
Not gaudy domes, but happy homes,
Bid men to truth aspire:
Let altars fall, above them all

I hold the household fire!
That diamond glow, that all might know,
If men were wise, were free,

To turn from kings and courtly things,
And raise HUMANITY!

THE THEATRES.

M. L. G.

DRURY LANE.-Old Drury is itself again-is once more what it ought never to have ceased to be-a national theatre. The legitimate drama has resumed its reign on these boards under the auspices of Mr. Macready, who has added immensely to the heavy debt of gratitude which is already owing to him from every lover of our national draina. The house opened for the dramatic season on Monday last, with Shakspeare's play of The Merchant of Venice, and "the new grand epicurean and gastronomical comic Christmas Pantomime, called Harlequin and Duke Humphrey's Dinner; or Jack Cade Lord of London Stone,” and an excellent pantomime it is, albeit it hath neither diorama nor panorama to recommend it. It is what a pantomime ought to be a running commentary on the follies of the preceding year and accordingly here we have the more prominent of them. First of all we have the promenade concerts; a band of fiddles entering bodily, each playing upon itself, a Mons. Jullien (excellently hit off) directing, and ultimately the whole squad ejected by Goodcheer, a merry Christmas sprite, who tells the fiddles

"To cut their sticks,

As much more proper-a,

And be off at once to the English Opera." Then there were sundry useless wooden blocks, removed from Parliament-street, transformed into most sapient and block-looking heads; a photographic drawing apparatus, from which came out a little harlequin, columbine, pantaloon, and clown, who capered about in emulation of their larger prototypes; and a ruinous inn haunted by the ghosts of innumerable ostlers who had ceased to be, in consequeuce of the march of railroads. These and many other hits were all received with shouts of

laughter and applause.

The harlequinade was well supported by Mr. C. J. Smith, as Harlequin, Miss Froode, as Columbine, and Mr. Montgomery, as Clown. Our old friend Howell has resigned the Harlequin's wand, and appeared last night as Pantaloon, and good as he is as Harlequin, his Pantaloon is better; he reminded us not unfrequently of poor old Barnes. Mr. Stilt also took a most active part in the Pantomime as Jack-aDandy, a sort of tiger to Harlequin, and by his marvellous posturing contributed essentially to the success of the Pantomime. This gentleman's joints must be made of India rubber, no mere ligament could stand the wear and tear. Since the days of Parsloe his equal has not been seen. The Pantomime was announced for repetition every evening by Montgomery, amidst loud applause.

COVENT GARDEN.-The announcement of the new Pantomime, as a matter of course, drew a great crowd to this house, which at half-price was filled to overflowing. The first performance was Colley Cibber's comedy of She Would and She Would Not, the plot of which is so well-known that it would be superfluous to analyze it. The play ended, a new Pantomime entitled Guy, Earl of Warwick; or Harlequin and the Dun Cow, was produced. It opened with a moving panoramic view of Warwick Castle and its neighbourhood, and the return of the hero Guy and his squire from the Holy Land. With some difficulty Guy, who was personated with infinite drollery by Mr. W. H. Payne, gets admission into the castle, when he finds that his lady has given all the servants a holiday, so that be is compelled to act as his own cook, housemaid, shoe.black, &c. This part of the Pantomime was received with much impatience; and not undeservedly so, for it was greatly spun out, and the fun of the incidents was by no means obvious. The audience, however, were soon put into a more favorable mood, by the uncommon splendour of the moving panoramic scenes, illustrative of Guy's expedition to the enchanted castle of the Danish King of Eskeldered, where the Dun Cow is kept, which bas caused great destruction in the vicinity. After encountering divers difficulties, Guy contrives to force his way into the enchanted abode of the Dane, kills his majesty and eke his Cow, and delivers the Lady Phoebe, the daughter of a Warwickshire nobleman, who had heen enveigled from home by the artifices of the royal magician. The usual transformations now commence. Harlequin, Mr. J. H. Ridgway,—Columbine, Miss Fairbrother, -Pantaloon, Mr. Garden, and Clown, Mr. T. Ridgway, throw off their respective disguises, and set forward on their merry ceaseless whirl through life. The Albert Gate at Hyde Park, "as it is to be," gave rise to some ingenious tricks. Patent Telescopes are brought on the stage, and the spectators as they look through them, see clearly Windsor Castle in the distance, which suddenly rises up between the pillars of the gate; and also the young Prince of Wales, fast asleep in his cradle. This trick was managed with uncommon adroitness, and was welcomed with shouts of applause. The Toy Shop was also a clever bustling scene, particularly that portion of it, when, by a single wave of Harlequin's wand, all the toys became suddenly animated, and the boa constrictors, stretching out to an immense length, threaten to crush the affrighted Clown within their scaly folds. In this scene, Mr. J. H. Ridgway exhibited extraordinary pliability of muscle, and immediately afterwards with equal effect, the stiffness and rigidity of death. In the view of Greenwich, and the Railroad, as seen from New Cross, the Clown suddenly enters and blows out the moon with a pair of bellows-an idea which seemed to occasion the galleries a world of diversion. But perhaps the cleverest conceit in the pantomime was where the Clown turns quack doctor, and proposes to cure a fat elderly gentleman of gout, by administering arsenic pills every ten minutes. The remedy, as may be surmised, was admirably efficacious, for the invalid was speedily cured of gout, as well as every other of earth's maladies.

The last scene was

a view of Woolwich dockyard, and the Launch of the Man-ofWar, Trafalgar, which was, without exception, one of the most splendid spectacles we ever witnessed at any theatre. Altogether, the pantomime may be considered a fair enough average one. It is not remarkable for the humour or ingenuity of its tricks, which have seldom novelty to recommend them; but the scenery throughout is uncommonly splendid, and no expence seems to have been spared in the getting up. It was most favourably received, and will, we doubt not, have the usual run of such entertainments.

HAYMARKET.-The holiday entertainments at this elegant and commodious house, commenced with Sheridan's play of Pizarro. The play was followed by what the bills denominated "a New, Grand, and Original Romantic, Legendary, Fa ry Spectacle, in two acts, called The World of Dreams; or, The Man of the Moon; and as a spectacle, nothing could be finer. The first scene opens with a view of the Elf-King's Oak, near which is the cottage of an old blind widow (Mrs. W, Clifford), and her beautiful daughter Violette (Mademoiselle Celeste). Now, pretty girls, from time immemorial, have been troubled with a super-abundance of lovers; and therefore, as a matter of course, all the bachelors in the neighbourhood, from eighteen to eighty, are running after the charming Violette. But Violette is as good as she is handsome; and the village bell-man, Peter Hoop (Mr. David Rees), and old Hans Braunwig (Mr. Strickland), and the youthful nephew of this last veteran wooer, are outbidding each other for the heart of the sweet Violette. She refuses them all that she may take care of her blind parent. Wearied however with the rejoicings on her birthday, she lays herself down to slumber under the Elf King's oak, regardless of the following pithy legend, which had long been attached to itIn the month of May, be warned by me,

Sleep not beneath the Elfin Tree,

For then the spirits that haunt the air,

Have power o'er the mortal that slumbers there." No sooner is she asleep than Andgrim the Spirit of Troubled Dreams (Mr. Mitcheson), and a host of imps assail her. Serena, Spirit of Happy Dreams (Miss Mattley), and a host of her nymphs, and the female warriors of the moon, come to the rescue of the sleeping mortal, and of course, after rather an ungallant engagement on the part of the male wicked spirits, they are defeated as they deserve to be. Fazenheim, the Man in the Moon, and Prince of the World of Dreams (Mr. J. Webster), next made his appearance, and falls desperately in love with the slumbering mortal. But on her birthday Violette's mother had suspended a cross round the neck of her daughter, and this proves now her talisman. She is returned to earth with Andgrim to attend her, but not before she reciprocates the Man in the Moon's passion. Her venerable lover, Hans Braunwig, however resolves to have, and to compel her acceptance of his hand, bargains with her mother's landlord to expel the old woman from her cottage, and sell her furniture for rent. Violette cannot bear to see her mother houseless, and to protect her accepts old Hans. While the settlements are preparing, Andgrim plays all manner of pranks upon the bridegroom, who, on his way to be married, is conducted through a morass, loses the bride, and falls asleep under the Elfin-Oak. So much virtue and filial piety do not always go unrewarded, and Violette is favoured with another interview with her super-human lover. To him she explains the cause of her apparent breach of constancy, returns to her mother whom a legacy makes rich, hnd having obtained from old Hans Braunwig her marriage settlement, to all appearance dies, and is received by the Man of the Moon, who carries her to. "That land of joy

Where bliss is every heart's employ :

Where all is beauty, love and light,
Within the valley of delight.

In this piece there was a good deal of very amusing bye play, of