   

" The substitution of the power of steainfor the
strength of"'herses in propelling carriages, coach.
es, and wagons, has now been the subgect of gen.
oral and sustained interest for more than twenty
years; the expectations, even of the less sanguine,
have been raised periodically, and after intervals of
nearly equal duration, to the full assurance of per.
fact conﬁdence, by the reported and apparently en-
tire success of some fortunate projector in effecting
the complete solution of the grand problem; expecta.
tions that have only deepened the total disappoint-
ment by which they have been invariably succeeded.
There is not at this moment, in this country or in
any other, a single instance of a regular land com-
munication satisfactorily sustained by steam. On
common roads we have never seen any thing better
than short—lived and unproductive experiments : on
railroads (clcemine defer) they can scarcely be said
to have been more successful. On the Liverpool
and Manchester line they are only retained by an
enormous sacriﬁce of money, and of the interests of
the proprietors. The steam engines used on it are
huge, disproportioned, clumsy masses ofmechanism,
better adaptcdin their size and structure to the staid
and sober pace of an elephant, than to_the rapid
ﬂight for which they are used; and though by being
urged to the uttermost‘, they have attained velocities
approxiniating. nearer to aerial ﬂight than earthly
trudge, yet, like" a cart horse goadedto a gallop,
they founder themselves, and knock the road to
pieces. From all that has yet been made publ'ic,‘we
are only warranted to deduce this one conclusion-
that every attemptyct made to render steam carriages
the means of econmnical and regular inland commu-
nication has totally and absalutelyfailed.

—“ Reduced to this condition, it may be well to in-
quire into our prospects. In there, we may ask, any
peculiarity in the nature ofland locomotion, to pre.
vent that power which turns the wheels of a boat,
from propelling with similar effect, the wheels ofa
britchkal? Is there any thing inthe nature of a car-
riage so peculiar, that while a steam engine can do
the work ‘of a hundred horses, it cannot do the work
of ‘four-in-hand ‘I’ Have we attained the ‘ hitherto
and no further’ of the power of steam? Knowing.
as we do, that the proposed substitution would
bring’ about agreat and beneﬁcial change in the mo-
ral, political, and commercial state of the empire,
are we at last, after hopes so long and so fondly che-
rished, so long pregnant with apparent fruition,
doomed to discover that we have only been tanta.
lized? Are we to ﬁnd that we have been hunting
alter nothinginore attainable, than an.alchymist’s_
stone for converting steel and steam into oxen and

' corn, and baking the bread ofthe poor from the dust

of the highway ‘I Is all the mechanical skill of Great
Britain at last foiled? Is all her science, all her
ingenuity, unequal to the evolution of this small pro-
blein,—-‘ with an eng’ne of sixteen horse power, to
popel a four horse coach ?' VVhere is the present
race of the Bells, the Boltons, and the Watts? Can
the government do nothing to foster the invention
and bring it to maturity 7 These questions are seri-
ous : the answers to them weighty, all-important to
us-—to Great Britain. We think they can be an-
swered fully and satisfactorily, so as to show, that
not in the nature of the thing to be done, but in the
mode of setting about it,. is the cause of failure to
be discovered. We may be able to detect in each in-
vention omissions and elements of self-destruction
necessarily involving total failure, and these not in
more details, but in the great principles of structure
and arrangement.” a .. i’ G ‘ ‘

Then follows it long and interesting account of
the several steam engines which have been tried in
England, with -an account of their defects; and the
reviewer proceeds: . I

“ Here then we arrive at the conclusion ‘hr the
whole matter. We find that the failures which have
hitherto attended all attempts at the steam carriage
have arisen, not from any necessary incompatibility
between the nature of steam and this particiilzir ap-
plication‘ of its power, but from the delicieney of
the inventions that have been produced in some of
the great elements of structure which we have
shown to be essential to success; that it would
have beeneasy. from the construction of these en-
gines, to_,,predict their failure, as we now predict the
failure of‘ all, constructed on the same or on similar
principles‘; th"a't,it.was an error to suppose that they
were deﬁcient merely in practical details which lur-
ther experience would supply; that every one of
them contained elements of self-destruction; that
they attained all the perfection of which they were

MWOCATE on INTERNAL iiiiiriiovniiriaivéiss.

pected from such as may be constructed in coin-
pliance with the requisites we have pointed out."
These requisites are:—1. A light and strong
boiler, exposing a large surface to the fire. 2.
Such an application of the power of the steam as
will not waste it——it is said that in consequence of
the bends in the pipes, &.c., alarge part of the
whole power ‘is lost. 3. A different arrangement
of the cylinders; or rather, a single cylinder‘ should

be used, as it is difficult to make two keep time, and’

the greater surface causes more rapid cooling. 4.

An arrangement for siipportingﬁhe. carriage-body‘

and the whole of the moving machineryiupon per-
fectly ﬂexible springs, sov.as to vibrate, freely in

every direction, and yet admit of being impelled’

forwards with uniform power and velocity‘. -5. To
construct an engine of variable power like‘ that of
a horse, which shall proportion its exertion to the
resistance to be overcome.

In another part of the Magazine, an article upon
Taylor’s “ Records of My Life,” supplies some on‘.
tertainingextracts from that work. The anecdotes
of John Kemble, particularly, with whom‘ poor
Jack Taylor", as he was. called,was upon terms of
intimacy, afford tliefollowing amusing gossip z--—

‘ I was in the habit of constantly visiting Mr.
Kemble‘ on a Sunday morning for many years, and
if I saw Vhimin the intermediatedays,’ he always
said, ‘5 Taylor, rememberthe liebdomadal.’_’ I found
him generally with some book or manuscript before
him relative .to his art. Sometimes he was cold,
negligent, and less courteous than «at others; and
then feeling disgusted, I resolved to forbear my visit
the next week; but the pleasure I always found in
his company overcame my temporary spleen. He
was fond of Dryden, and sometimes read to me pas-
sages from that admirable post. I do not think he
was a good reader, for he gencrallyrread in a tone
either too low or too high. There is obviously but
one tone in reading or acting that excites the sym

patliy of the hearer, and that is the tone whichfeel.
ing suggests and expresses; andksuch was the charm
of Garrick, which rendered his acting in tragedy or
comedy impressive’ in the highest degree. There
were many of Kemble’s visitors who made court in
him by telling , him of faults in Garrick’s acting, or
of the unsuitableness of his person for some of the
characters which he represented: for instascc, Sir
Charles Thompson, afterwards Hotham, a respecta-
ble old baronet, told Kemble that Garrick always
gave him the idea of a little butler. Kemble gene-
rally told me what was said to him of this kind, not
as appearing to believe such remarks, but to know
whether they received a confirmation from me. On
such occasions. I never abated my reverence. for
Garrick, but always discountenancecl such insidious
ﬂattery, and, to the best of my recollection and
ability, asserted the wonderful powers of the do.

12?

should hardly be
I'll go home and
, possible to con.
ceive so grave a character contemplating new tricks

him. I was positively engaged, and
In time. “ Well, then,” said he, “
““d.l' 3- Pﬁflloniimel’. It is hardly

and escapes for harlequin,
clown. _ p

1 He had determined to act Falstaﬂ’; and I was? in
t ie green-room at Covent Garden Theatre om Sap
urday, when, after. his performance of some charac.
tcr which I do not- recollect, three beards were
brought to him, that he might choose one for F,;]_
—staﬁ'. , We were invited to dine thenoxt daywiih
the late Dr, CharlesiBurney, Rector of Deptford.
Kemble took me in- his chariot, and we talked on
the road of his fintended Falstaff. He said that he
had resolved to attempt the part, but was afraid
that when “he came to the point, his heart would
fail him.” A ludicrous incident happened at this
dinner._ The Doctor, in helping Kemble to part of
a pudding, gave him a very large portion; which
induced me to say, “Burney, you do not observe
Kemble's rule in your ample allotment to him.”--
" What is that?” said the Doctor. “ Why," said I,
“when I last dined with him, I was as lavish as

‘ Taylor, _don’t help so much to an individual, for if
you do it will not go round the table.” Being

these words in his ; manner, forgetting that he was
before me. “Now,” said Kemble. “he thinks he
15 imitating mo—-I appealto the lady.;” and these
words he delivered so much in the manner which I
had assumed, that Mrs. Barney and the Doctor could
not help laughing; Kemble gave way to the same
impulse, and I was relieved from embarrassment.

I was one night in a box with him when the then.
tre was illuminated preparatory to the opening for
the season, and a Mr. Rees was employed to give
imitations. in order to try the eﬂ'ect of the voice.
Kemble was one of the persons imitated; and while
the man was delivering an imitation of him, Kern.
bla, in a little above a wliisper,-knocking his stick
on the ground, said, with perfect good humor,
“Speak lender, you rascal, speak louder)’; The
man did not hear, nor did Kemble intend he should.

POETRY.

The following lines, expressive ofdeep and well-founded imlig-
nation against the projected “improvement" through Trinity
Cliurcli-Yard, are softened down and modiﬁed from some which
under the title of “The Curse ofthe troubled Dead," we object
ad to on Tuesday, as “_zmchrz‘sti'a.nJ’ In using that epithet,
Iiowever, we beg the unknown writer to understand us as re-
ferring not to the poet, but'.tn the painful impressions produced
by the wrath ofthe.nialcdictions.ascribcd to those for whomihe
grave ivasnot permitted to be a place of rest. Even as now gi~
vcn, these forcible lines will make strong natures shuddcr:—
[Fen THE Naw.Yoni:,AMsiucAN.]

parted actor. Kemble always listened to my pane.
gyric on his great predecessor with apparent con.
viction; but I cannot help believing that he would
have liked me much better if I had never seen Gar.
rick. «

Kemble, with all hisprofossional judgment, skill,
and experience, like all other, mortals, was some-
times induced to mistake the natural direction of
his powers, andto suppose that he was as much pa-
tronized by the comic as by the tragic muse. When
Icalled on him oneimorning, he was sitting in h-is

great chair with his night-cap on, and‘, as he‘ told A '

me, cased in ﬂannel. Immediately after-the cus-
tomary salutation, he said, “Taylor, I am studying
a new-part in a popular comedy, and I should like
to know yeiir opinion as to the manner inlwbich I
am likely to perform it.” “As you tell me it is a
comic part,” said I; “ I presume it is what you style
intellectual comedy, such as the chief characters in
Congreve, Wycherley, and Vanburgh.” “‘ What do
you think,” said he. "of Charles, in the School for
Scandal?” “ VVhy,” said I, “Charles is a gay, free,
spirited, convivial fellow.” “ Yes,” said he, “ but
Charles is a gentleman.” , He tried the part, but his
gaiety did not seem to the town to‘ be of "the right
ﬂavor.” It was said by one of Mr. Komble’s favor-
able critics in a public print, that his performance
was “Cliarles’s restoration,” and by another, that
it was rather “‘ Charles’s inartyrdorn)? . ‘

Another time he attempted a jovial rah

ish cha-

racter in one of Mrs. Behn’s licentious. comedies, i.

from which, however, he expunged all the offensive
passages; but he, was not’ successsul. I met him
one day asI was hurrying home to dress for dinner,
abroad; and he strongly pressed me to go and dine
with him, alleging that as I’opi(Mrs.~Kemble) was

capable; and ﬁnally, that successniay yet be ex:

THE ORACLE OF THE TO1\IB—'l‘O THE SAICRILI}
GlOUS Vl0LA’l‘Ol{ OF ITS SANCTI’l‘Y—

“ It is as ifthe dcail could feel

The icy worm around them steal,

VVitliout the Pbivcr to scare away

The cold consumers of their clay."-—Bvitoiv.

Hyena, hence ! break not the hzillow'd sod,

That covers those whose spirits are with God;
There is a deep unearthly awe imprcss’d
Where’er the “ dead”. in solemn silence rest, I
And black the hand, and hard the heart that dai-
Intrude like an apostate J iidas there. .

Should the *Lex Talionis in wrath-be sped ’

With justice stern on the monstei-’s head,-—

The dust of the parents who gave him birth,

-Will hesavagely trampled with common earth;

Their boncs—ouce the pillars oi‘ temples so dear,

E’cn_lu.- on their ruins 1llllSi.'lO0k with a tear,

'Wﬂl bcrudely uiicolliifd, and tess'd to the wind,
. Tillnot their least trace can his agony find 2- '
: When the wife of his bosom in death shall sleep,
‘On her rest will the vile Itesurrectionist creep,
And rending her curse from its liallowld mould,
Uncartli it and sell it to Surgeons for gold.
Her form, just an-ay'd in the drapery of death,

_ And her lips, scarcely cold from their last warm breath,
VVill be torn in the lingering" beauty of life,

And mangled, unwept-—liy the incrciless knife :-

’ Nay, his sweet little babe, in its waxen repose,
VVhile yet with the smile of a cherub it glows, ‘
From its grave by the spade of the slave will be thrown,
And its ringlets of gold o'er the pavement be strewn ;
Then its delicate limbs will the cartinen drive oler,
And laugh him to scorn if he fc1T.r,rn. to deplore,

Till his heart, if he have one, is broken with grief,
And sliiiildcrs to death as its only relief.

'1‘/um, will he he left on the cold earth to rot,
Ulll‘llll‘lCtl,1ll‘lSlll'0ll(ll3lI, umvept-uatforgat I

‘For the marble will brand, with its-mem’iy ofyears,

The wretch whose corruption mocked picty’s tears,
And, hiiscr than heathen l)l1l‘l‘)}ll‘l.’lllS of old,_

Tliroiigli the graves of his foi-e~i‘axJiei~s quarried For gold.

\ TRINITY CHURCI-I—YARD.
* I‘ An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a teeth.” In connnon
arlan I3 .RetriImtinc .Iustice. _
P ‘ C ’ The pit;/Ito others SHOW."

out of town, he should be lonely and dull. I told

.. Li Tn.-npz'ty show to me-’’_

i

and blunders for the b

you in distributing a similar dish.‘ Kemblecsaid, .

somewhat in the habit of imitating Kemble, I spoke I