Drury-Lane, have produced nothing this month to call for observations, Fazio and the Bryde of Abydos having been repeated every evening, with the exception of the Oratorios, with increased, effect to crowded audiences. The Oratorios, the one under the direction of Sir George Smart, and the other under that of Mr. Ashley, have been honoured with the most distinguished approbation.

The principal attractions at Covent-Garden have been, Mr. Braham, Miss Corri, Miss Stephens, Mr. Thorne, and Mr. Yardley. This was the first appearance of the latter gentleman, and the second of the preceding one. The sweetness, taste, and expres sion, with which Miss Corri gave the celebrated" Angels ever bright and fair." were exquisite. The new duetto, for the first time, performed by Mr. Braham and Miss Stephens, did not give the degree of satisfaction which was expected. Miss Frith, Miss George, Mr. Thorne, and Mr. Yardley, exhibited talents, certainly far beyond the sphere of mediocrity-Miss Frith, indeed, promises to rank amongst some of the first rate singers. Mr. Braham was accompanied in a song by Mr. Lindley upon the violoncello, which was loudly applauded. The admirable selection gave, upon the whole, great satisfaction,

FEB. 21. This evening the new Opera, which has been long in prepara tion, was produced with the title of Zuma; or, the Tree of Health. The scene is placed at Lima, and the period is about the middle of the 17th century. Zuma (Miss Stephenson), a Peruvian lady, the wife of Mirvan (Braham), an Indian chief, being one of the attendants on the vice-queen (Miss Foote), and known to be greatly attached to her, is suspected by her countrymen, who, detesting the Spaniards, would keep the secret from them, of an intention to reveal the properties of the bark, which appears to be the only means left for restoring the health of her mistress. To secure her fidelity, her child is deposited as a hostage, and its life is to be the forfeit of the mother's treachery.

Distracted between her desire to save the vice-queen, and the terrors of maternal love, she resolves, at the suggestion of her husband, to infuse secretly the healing portion into the accustomed driak of the sick lady in the act of doing this she

is detected by the viceroy himself, and not daring, on account of her fears for her child, to avow her real motive, she is convicted, on the strength of some dubious expressions she was overheard to utter, of a design to poison the vicequeen, and is condemned to the flames. Picquillo (Liston), a young Spaniard, It hapens fortunately, however, that has in the mean time discovered the secret, and communicating it to the chief physician, Dr. Bonoro (Fawcett), the vice-queen is restored to health, and Zuma, with her husband Mirvan, who had resolved to share her fate, is saved, after the pile had been kindled, by an act of grace, on account of her mistress's recovery. The interest excited by the piece is compartively trifling, nor do we think it by any means as good as any of the author's other productions. The incidents, as may be seen, are few, and one so absurd as to excite merited disapprobation. We allude to Chinchilla's (Mrs. Garrick) project for l'icquillo's ception, is the composition of Bishop escape. The music, with a single exand Braham, and possesses considerable merit. The airs or single songs, in general, form the least successful part; they are not remarkable either for originality or distinctness of character, and some passages in them are obvious pla giarisms from well-known subjects. The concerted pieces are very good; we' particularly admired the opening trio, the septetto in the 2d act, and the chorus in the 3d, " hear." The introductory slow moveDaughter of error, ment of the overture also deserves non tice, as the evident work of a musician of taste and experience. The exception above alluded to, is the celebrated 'Marseillois Hymn, "Aux armes mes citoyens," so popular during the first years of the French revolution, and which produced in its day a greater sensation than any other. The words to which it was applied on Saturday night, are a parody on the original ones, and, admitting an application to some late uppopular ministerial acts, raíscú a considerable tumult in the house. It was

sung by Brabam. On the whole we anticipated a favourable result of its success, as the music is preity. The scenery is beautiful, and the dialogue replete with point-though, ou a better foundation, it might have produced better effects.

PERFORMANCES.

POETRY.

THE CHAPEL OF THE ISLE.*

A FRAGMENT.

TS it a cloud of fleecy white

bright?

A lone amidst yon glassy bed
A proud isle rears its silver head,
From Earth's imperial circle hurl'd,
The remnant of an earlier world :
Scarce Alpine summers deign to rest
On that lone island's frozen breast;
Yet lavish Nature there has strewn
With golden hands her fairest boon,
And richer bearts have ripen'd there
Than in Hesperia's gardens fair.
Gay Albine in her castle hall
Bat list ning to the clarion's call:
A wayward yet a gracious dame,
With lip of balm and eye of flame,
And spirit stubborn as the pile
Of column-rocks that guard her isle,
Bot bounteous as if round her roll'd
A jasper sea on sands of gold.
Too seldom on her ear in vain
The flatt rer pour'd his honied strain,
Then would that spirit fierce and wild
Beem, as the cradled slumberer's, mild.
Her love was fickle, and her smile
Might well the soaring heart beguile.
With such false light as pilgrim sees
On icy arch or precipice,

When diamond domes his fancy greet,
While gulfs unmeasur'd wait his feet-
Yet sages, bards, and chiefs, have striv'n
To win so bright yet brief a heav'n!
The Lady in her castle hall

Smil'd as she heard the war-horn's call;
With magic tales uncouth and drear
Her watchful pages sooth'd her care;
For tho' her breast no terrors mov'd,
Full well the wond'rous tale she lov'd,
While o'er her wheel of massy gold
Her hand the snow-white fleece unroll'd,
To many a wild lay sweetly trill'd
Her minstrel's harp the pauses fill'd.-
Unheard, unseen, the Wizard Sprite
Gaz'd with a Goblin's grim delight;
Yet 'twas not beauty's sunbeam stole
Thro' the dark windings of his soul,
But with desiring glance he view'd
The sparkling gems around her strew'd.
Her arm the pearls of Indus brac'd,
The leopard's spoils her shoulder grac'd,
Round her brown locks and taper waist
The silk of Persia clung:
And gums, of Araby the pride,
Barnt in rich censers by her side-
Nor prouder shone the eastern bride
By fabling poets sung.

"A wizard of France coveted the fair land of Albine, but therein dwelt the son of another magician, who ruled a rare engine called a Parlement, and could raise spirits."-Old Romaunt.

Europ. Mag. Vol. LXXII. Feb. 1918.

And oft his scowling eye explor'd
Her hall with massy treasures stor'd,
A steadfast, broad, and rev'rend pile,
Rich with a hundred ages' toil:
There cluster'd oaks, its columns proud,
Stood like a rude but loyal croud,
Supporters of the one-arch'd roof
Against a thousand tempests proof.
And wreath'd around those columns hung,
The theme of many a minstrel's tongue,
The pike and bow and jav'lin bright,
And banner hewn in deathful fight.
St. Cloud's with lilies silver'd o'er,
And pale Iberia's steep'd in gore,
Their faded honours twin'd:
Above, in sov`reign pomp unroll'd,
The Red Cross banner's starry fold
Wav'd in the western wind,
Which crept thro' windows blazon'd bigh
With pomp of gorgeous heraldry,
Where still the boast of ancient days
Shone in a rich but fading blaze.
Firm in the midst the Stone of Pow'r
Rose like the bulwark of the tow'r-
A name be dar'd not look upon
Was graven on that hailow'd stone-
"O! low shall be its fall," he cried,
"When Albine is the victor's bride !"
The foe his haggard form forsook.
And Albine's best-lov'd champion's took:
He deck'd his dark cheek with the glow
Youth and the laughing Loves bestow;
And such a smile as rosy mi th

Sends from the heart which gave it birth:
"Albine!" the traitor said, and sigh'd-
The fair dame smil`d with beauty's pride-
"Albine! by all to honour dear,
Give to thy faithful servant ear-
Or sacred is this lonely hour
To him who sways the Beacon Tow'r ?"
Her azure eye the fair-pne rais'd,
Where stern amaze and anger blaz'd-
"Think'st thou a vassal's love or hate
Can Albine's woe or weal create ?
Go, and revere her fate's decree,
The Will of Albine must be free!"
Low bow'd the crafty wizard's head→→
"Be Albine ever free!" he said;
"But is it love whose gentle pow'r
Sways him who rules the Beacon Tow'r?
Is it for Albine's love he drains
The riches of her smiling plains?
Nor wassail bowl nor lady gay
Tempts Willhelm from his lonely way;
Unheard, unseen, the hermit-boy
Pursues his dark and savage joy i
Beneath yon chapel's ruin'd wall
The goblin-race obey his call:
Eise wherefore from their mould'ring bed
Wakes he the spirits of the dead?
Lady! the warning voice revere !
Sleeps Albine when a foe is near?
Once Plata's gold her coffers lia'd,
And pilgrims from the farthest In I
Their treasures at her feet resign'd
X

JOURNAL OF THE PROCEedings of THE IMPERIAL PARLIAMENT
OF THE UNITED KINGDOM OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND..
Days omitted, no Business of Importance.
HOUSE OF LORDS.