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a formidable hammer of the law, to the ears of eunuch'swill be abolished; and we, shall probably soon forget the resemblance we bear to pigs; a number of which the Abbé de Baigne by the order of Louis XIVth placed in due order, and forced, by means of a bodkin, to grunt the musical gamut. Thus far concerning sacred-or ancient German WarMusic.

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From a letter of VICTOR to his friend EMANUEL, vid. Hesperus, Vol. 2.

-Cruel fate! why didst thou kindle a spark of celestial Jove in the heart of a mortal, which is doomed, sooner or later, to be extinguished within his own breast? Do we not all carry within our bosoms the enchanting picture of the beloved of our soul, for whom we weep, after whom we seek, and the sublime original of which we hope-but alas in vain!-to possess? Are we not like the turtle dove that coos after her lifeless picture in the glass, vainly flattering herself that it is the sister spirit of her beloved, to whom she utters her moans and complaints?-Why has the calm serenity of a vernal evening, the captivating charms of a simple air, and the lively enjoyment of every innocent delight continually repeat the anxious question, "Where is the beloved soul to whom thou canst impart, and with whom thou canst share the saphires of thy breast-Why does music like the bells of a steeple, which instead of dispersing only attract the clouds fraught with electricity, create more vehement billows in thy anxious soul, instead of allaying their rage?—And why does a voice resound within thy breast, when attracted by the soothing serenity of a fair sky, thou viewest the wide extended landscape before thee, and seest the immeasurable ocean of flowers which adorn the same, and the fainting shadows of airy clouds, which swiftly pursue one another from mountain to mountain;-when thou extendest thy view still further beyond these towering mountains, which like the shores of a wide expanded ocean enclose the bed of flowers beneathwhy does the same melancholy voice repeat within thy breast: "O'tis far beyond those cloud capt hills, where thou canst hope to find thy home, where thou canst hope to embrace the lovely object of thy afflicted soul, and where thou wilt assuredly find thy paradise!"-But alas! separated from thee by that insurmountable ridge, whose summit reaches to the sky, there dwells perhaps some neglected sister spirit, that wishfully looks towards thy station and often thinks" Oh! in those distant climes, I should perhaps be more happy!——— VOL. II.

X

Are

Are we not all happy?- -O answer it not, my Emanuel, tell me not than the few solitary sunbeams, which interrupt the dreary winter of this life, split and kill the noblest part of man, like plants in the garden-tell me not that each preceeding year diminishes our hearts, and that like the ice floating on the surface of a river, it grows smaller and its space more contracted, the further it proceeds down the stream of time:-O! repeat it not that the straying Psyche, tho' she hears the endearing voice of her second self resound within its prison, is unable to clasp the lovely object in her arms!—

But thou hast already said it.

Two bodies separate and inclose all the kindred spirits of our terrestial ball, standing as it were on the towering eminences of two distant hills parted from one another by an enormous gulph, equal to that which separates the heavenly luminaries from our globe. They perceive one another speak by means of steganography; and they hear at length the endearing voice proceeding from the distant hill;-but never do they approach one another, and their mutual embraces are but the ideal charms of their lively rapture.-But, alas! like the substance of a mouldering corpse, the flame of love is cherished, but to decay; and faintly quivers like the glimmering lamp of the vault, when its doors are thrown open.

Are we not all happy?

O answer it not!The poor mortal who sighed even in his childish days for the kindred spirit of an unknown friend, whose very existence was interwoven with his own-who was the darling object of his enchanting dreams and pressed tears of affliction from his eyes, when the return of morning dispersed the airy phantoms of his smiling slumbers-who sent nightingale's to him in spring, to remind him of her love and to encrease his affections-who kindly visited his soul in the placid hours of calm serenity with so much virtue and with so much love, that he would gladly have offered up his heart at the altar of love, as the purest sacrifice of gratitude to the adored object-who alas! never appeared; but whilst she reflected her enchanting picture upon the soul of her beloved, cruelly kept at a distance herself when at last the long wished for moment arrives; the lovers meet, and two kindred souls are lost in mutual embraces, never to be separated!in vain does he attempt to describe the raptures of his breast he is truly happy and beloved!

For

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For the German Museum.

SCHILLER'S MARY STUART.
A TRAGEDY,

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THE public will shortly be presented with a translation of a new Tragedy of Schiller's, founded on the History of Mary, Queen of Scots.

The Poet has viewed his subject from a new point. The action commences after the commissioners have sentenced Mary. Elizabeth has not yet signed the death warrant. In the short space of time between this and her exécution an astonishing variety of interest has been brought into action, and most of the circumstances, which constituted that of former plays on this subject, are only touched in the dialogue. The translator, whose name will at the proper season be revealed has communicated to us the following passages, which we submit to the judgment of our readers.

In the first act Lord Burleigh is dispatched by Elizabeth to communicate to the queen of Scots the verdict of the commissioners on this occasion, the queen defends her conduct with great spirit and animation, and after protesting against the jurisdiction of the tribunal which tried her, she addresses Lord Burleigh thus:

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-my Lord High Treas'rer

Tow'rds you I will be just-be you but just
Tow'rds me-'tis said that you consult with zeal
The good of England, and of England's queen→→→
I will believe it-you are not conducted
By private interest; the monarch's welfare,
The realm's advantage only governs you
Therefore, my noble Lord, you should distrust
The more your heart; should see that the advantage
Of government take not the place of justice.
I doubt it not, that by your side is plac'd
Full many a gallant man, among my judges-
But they are protestant's, are eager
all
For England's quiet; and they sit in judgment
On me, the queen of Scotland, and the papist.
It is an ancient saying that the Scots
And English are unjust toward each other;
And hence the laudable custom, that a Scot
Against an Englishman, an Englishman
Against a Scot cannot be heard in judgment,
Necessity prescrib'd this curious law-

Deep

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Deep policy of lives in ancient customs―
---My lord, we must respect them---nature cast
Into the ocean these two fiery nations
Upon this plank, and she divided it
Unequally, and bade them fight for it.
The narrow bed of Tweed alone divides
These daring spirits---often hath the blood
Of the contending parties dyed its waves---
Threat'ning and sword in hand, these thousand years
From both its banks they watch the rival's motions,
Most vigilant and true confederates...
With ev'ry en'my of the neighbour state---
No foe oppresses England, but the Scot,
Becomes his firm ally; no civil war:
Enflames the towns of Scotland, but the English
Add fuel to the fire---this raging heat
Will never be extinguished, 'till, at last,
One parliament in concord shall unite them;
One sceptre shall command throughout the isle.

**

BURLEIGH.

And from a Stuart then shall England hope
This happiness?---

MARY.

O! why should I deny it?
Yes!-I confess I cherish'd the fond hope,
I thought myself the happy instrument
To join beneath the olives shade in freedom
And lasting happiness two gen'rous nations.
I little thought I should become the victim
Of their old hate-their long liv'd jealousy,
And the sad flames of their unhappy discord
I hop'd at last to smother, and for ever-
And, as my ancestor great Richmond join'd
The rival roses after bloody contest,
To unite in peace the Scotch and English crowns.

Towards the end of the fourth act the people of London, are represented as urgent for the execution of the sentence. Burleigh and the Earl of Kent use all their eloquence to persuade the queen of England to sign the warrant.-She professes great doubts upon the subject and still hesitates.-The Earl of Shrewsbury enters with great emotion.

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SHREWSBURY.

Hold fast, my queen, they wish to hurry thee,

Be firm

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ANTA 16.

(as he sees the secretary Davison with the warrant) ent..
-Or is it then decided ?—is it
Indeed decided I behold a paper
Of ominous appearance in his hand-
Let it not at this moment meet thy eyes,
My queen.

ELIZABETH.

Good Shrewsbury! I am constrain'd.

SHREWSBURY.

Who can constrain thee? thou art queen of England, assert
Here must thy majesty preserve its rights-
Command these savage voices to be silent,
Who take upon themselves to put constraint
Upon thy royal will, to rule thy judgments.
Fear only, blind conjecture rules thy people,
Thou art thyself beside thyself, thy, wrath
Is grievously provok'd-thou art but morta!,
Thou canst not now sit in the seat of judgment, ac ascens

-I will not raise the voice

Of justice now, for now is not the season,
Thou canst not hear it in this storm of passion?-
Yet listen but to this,-thou tremblest now
Before this living Mary-fear not thou
The Mary who is living-tremble rather
Before the murder'd, the beheaded Mary.
She will arise, and quit her grave, will range
A fiend of discord, and a spirit of vengeance
Around thy realm, and turn thy subjects hearts
From their allegiance-as yet thy people
Hate her, because they fear her-but most sure
They will avenge her when she is no more.
They will no more, behold the enemy
Of their belief, they will but see in her
The much lamented issue of their kings

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A sacrifice

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