already gone far beyond the sphere allotted to me. My views, however, of the subject are almost without exception in coincidence with those which our countryman, Goede, has given in a particular section of his celebrated work upon England. In England itself, too, people are pretty generally of an uniform opinion, that the taste for any thing noble is partly corrupted by the equestrian exercises and such like, which are exhibited indeed with wonderful dexterity in the theatres of Astley and Sadlers' Wells, and partly that the theatre is no longer that which it was at the zenith of its fame. This fame which it enjoyed, it is particularly indebted for to the two rare geniuses in their art, Shakspeare in the sixteenth, and Garrick in the last, century. The former was a man who was acquainted with, and depicted, mankind better than any who had gone before him, who was possessed of a mind inexhaustible in ideas, and a fancy rich in the greatest, as well as the most endearing, pictures, with a language which took possession of the human heart, both from the lofty tones in which it was written, the tenderest feelings it displayed, and was a man who was at once an endless fountain, from which, as the Greeks formerly did from Homer, innumerable British and German poets have drank. Garrick, who, according to the general opinion, gave the most perfect idea of the rare spirit which animated Shakspeare, is still frequently mentioned. He has always served as a guide to the most respectable of his successors, such as Kemble, Cooke, and Mrs. Siddons, who once both heard and saw him. I know not how greatly the latter may be indebted to her pattern for the talent she has ever displayed; I only know that the reading of some of her principal parts, such as Lady Macbeth, Queen Catherine, of Arragon, readings which I attended in Cambridge, appeared to me to surpass every thing I had heard from other actors. This far-famed actress, (who was born in the year 1749) whose stately figure and dignity of features are little injured by time, preserved also, when off the stage, (from which she has some time since receded, as well as her brother Kemble, into domestic life) that power whereby she commands all the various cadences of tone, and is so perfect a mistress of the manner of preserving the fundamental principles of the character in which she speaks, that she adapts every expression to it with the most perfect harmony. She was not only loudly applauded by the whole company, but by the most impressive tranquillity, and that silent irresistible proof of a deeply felt admiration ensued, which Iffland used to say he valued far more than the repeated thoughtless tokens of approbation, evinced by the clapping of thousands of hands.. RETURN FROM LONDON TO HAMBURGH. Fragments from my Journal. "Farewell, Britannia, where the queen of arts Walks through the land of heroes unconfined, Harwich, 27th July, 1819.-The tumult of the metropolis is silenced. We have been borne, as it were, upon wings, fifteen German miles in a rather dark night. I am now once more upon the coast of that country which, a short time ago, lay before me enveloped in a mist, and which now floats before my eyes like a magnificent and brilliant picture. For a long time to come, I shall have no occasion to sigh for fresh impressions, and may the more tranquilly reflect upon all that I have seen and heard. If we should be enabled, upon our landing upon the shores of another world, after our last journey in this, to carry with us as lively recollections of all that the earth has afforded us, we shall there too scarce stand in need of new matter to occupy our minds; and when our curiosity has been satisfied, gratitude and admiration will continue to warm our hearts, and to strengthen our memory. The prospect of a good voyage is very unfavourable. The winds refuse us our departure. An unwelcome leisure is, therefore, afforded me to call anew to my recollection the last hours I passed in London. The inconveniences attendant upon getting ready my luggage, the settlement of my debts in the house where I lived, and other necessary matters, were over. Before I took leave of my room, I cast another glance upon the noble Thames, and the incessant bustle which prevails upon it. My amiable hostess appeared unwilling to let me leave her. Her daughter entreated me to play another German air upon her piano, the execution of which appeared to afford her great pleasure. With a heavy heart I took leave of my companion, the Baron de Geer, who had gained my sincere esteem. I parted no less reluctantly from the amiable families of Messieurs Bohte and Ackermann. On board of the Henry Freeling, the 29th July. We went yesterday evening on board the packet. By singular coincidence it was the same which had brought me to England. I greeted the narrow abode which was so well known to me; nor was I become a stranger to captain Hart and the crew. The sky was cloudless, but there was not the We were enabled to remain on the deck till a least wind. very late hour. I wish the night had not only afforded us sleep and rest, but brought us further on our voyage. But we are still too near the English coast. The good company we have on board affords us some recompense. July 30. Almost every body is sea-sick. No one feels a desire of entering into conversation. The hours, which lately passed as minutes, we wish we could accelerate with wings. They creep on so slowly, that we are frightened when we look at the watch, and hold it to our ears, in doubt whether it may not have stopped. Sleep appears to be the only friend of those that are well; it deserts the sick like a false friend. July 31. We have now lost sight of England. The Dutch coast stretches itself out before us, but we are obliged, from contrary wind, to be continually on the tack, to gain a little way. Thus the 300 English miles of sea may be made 900. At a distance we get a sight of the Texel, where the East India ships used to rendezvous. The company on board are getting better. We begin to laugh at our own impatience, and to rebuke ourselves for wishing to change what is unalterable. I myself become more accustomed to the sea, and am already somewhat envied by my sick companions. I have begun to read the Mazeppa of Lord Byron with the English gentleman who is on board. He is very attentive to the errors I make, and, although he is unacquainted with the German language, he endeavours to explain in writing all the words I do not understand. Aug. 1. We have passed a very solemn and quiet Sunday. The sea resembled a plain, over which green corn was waving. The sun shone down upon us with all its brilliant splendour from the beautiful azure sky. The ships bound to a contrary direction slid slowly by us in this perfect calm. All kinds of animated little forms were playing in the bosom of the ocean. The crew were dressed in their best clothes, and appeared well pleased at the returning tranquillity of the Sabbath. The sailors were laying upon the deck, either reading or in conversation. I saw the Common Prayer Book in the hands of many of them. Aug. 2. We are beginning a fresh week. We thought we should have passed it upon our native soil. The captain does not appear in the best humour. The clouds, which are contracting together, bring us some hope. A storm arises; lightning flashes around; the motion becomes greater; the labours of the crew are redoubled, and the lead is never still. We avail ourselves of some quiet hours for fishing, which costs several fine turbot and mackarel their lives. Aug. 3. This morning brings us better tidings. We are opposite Heligoland, before the mouth of the Elbe, and near enough, without assisting our eye-sight, to get a clear view of the whole island, which suddenly grew so rich, during the war between England and France, as the Depot of Colonial produce. At breakfast a pleasing emotion arises in my breast, when I recollect that this day, nine and forty years ago, gave birth to one of the most respectable of monarchs. There is no person around me who can participate in my feelings. To make them generally known appears to me throwing them away. But different, however, as might be the political interests and sentiments of individuals, none refused to fill his glass, and all paid homage to the bravery, constancy, and domestic virtues which distinguish our prince and father of his people. God save the King. Aug. 4. The inviting Holstein village of Brunsbüttel, lays before us; but as the wherry can not approach it, and we can hail no boat, we are prevented landing. A violent storm comes on, with torrents of rain, which drives us all into the close cabin. It clears up, and we repeat our hailing of a boat; fishermen draw near us, and bring us over the river, which is still sufficiently rough. The ease, cleanliness, and comfort, which, in my former travels, I had found in all the villages of Holstein, are here confirmed. Houses, rooms and furniture, are all superior to what we are accustomed to see in our part of the country. Hamburgh in the Stadt London, 5th August.-About three o'clock in the afternoon we came before Blankenese. Who is there who is not acquainted with this favourite resort of the inhabitants of Hamburgh and Altona ? The travellers were now all of one accord to dismiss our boatmen, and to finish the remainder of our way upon a couple of Holstein carriages, which are always standing in readiness. Every thing on this road bears marks both of opulence and increasing cultivation. The elegant and tasty country seats and gardens continue in an uninterrupted line to Altona. I hardly knew again the short road from thence to Hamburgh, so greatly was every thing changed, since I had first seen it in the year 1776. We stopped at Ottensen, where Charles of Brunswick took refuge after the unfortunate affair of Auerstadt, and finished his days, and where Klopstock reposes; we took a view of the tomb and monument of the sacred songster. FINIS. |