larly those of the divine Shakspeare,-(enthusiastic plaudits)-I entreat you to believe that all my labours, all my studies, whatever they have been, have been made delightful to me by the approbation with which you have been pleased constantly to reward them."-(After repeated applauses, Mr. K., hardly able to master his emotions, continued :)

"I beg you, Ladies and Gentlemen, to accept my thanks for the great kindness you have invariably shewn me, from the first night I became a candidate for public favour, down to this(here Mr. K. paused an instant)--painful moment of parting with you."-(It is impossible to describe the mingled feelings of the audience, at the close of this sentence. Mr. K. became totally overpowered, and was only able to add, in a smothered, but deeply penetrating tone :)

"I must take my leave of you at once: Ladies and Gentlemen, I most respectfully bid you a long and unwilling farewell."

At the moment of his withdrawing, a scroll, placed on a piece of elegantly ornamented white satin, to which a laurel crown was attached, was passed, by a gentleman in the pit, to M. Talma, with a request that he would hand it over to

Mr. K. This was not, however, effected in time; and the scroll remained on the stage. The chief purport of the scroll was, an earnest request to Mr. K., that he would not take his final leave that evening; but that he would consent to perform a few nights, in each season, when his health permitted. The audience caught its meaning, and the manager was loudly called for. Mr. Fawcett made his appearance, and, taking up the wreath and scroll, addressed the house as follows:

:

"Ladies and Gentlemen,-I can only understand these to have been intended as a compliment to Mr. Kemble: if it is your pleasure to depute me to present them to that Gentleman, you impose upon me one of the most delightful tasks it has ever been my lot to perform."

While those feelings of respect and regret were passing before the curtain, they were still more powerfully portrayed, on the countenances and in the hearts of Mr. K.'s professional associates behind the scenes. All were contending to be foremost in their expressions of kind condolence, and eager to retain some memorial of their long-cherished admiration for him, earnestly soliciting some trifling article of

his attire, which might strengthen the remembrance of this interesting occasion. Mr. Mathews, who, though in a different walk of the drama, is as well calculated, from his knowledge of the art, to appreciate the merits of a tragic actor as any of the most accomplished in the profession, and, with this discriminating quality, had ever been an unfeigned admirer of Mr. K.'s talents, received, from his hands, the gift of his sandals; which gave birth to this witticism: "Proud as I am," said he, "to have Mr. Kemble's sandals, I can never hope to tread in his shoes." Miss Bristow obtained the handkerchief Mr. K. had used that evening on the stage, which she playfully promised to keep more faithfully than Desdemona.

Many friends of Mr. K. attended him, in his dressing-room, in order to testify their esteem and regret, and to express their hope, that he had recovered from the fatigue of his performance, and the agitation of his feelings; among whom were, Earl Percy, Lord William Gordon, Sir Thomas Lawrence, M. Talma, &c. &c. And it must be added, that he never performed the character of Coriolanus with more animation, spirit, and strength, than on this occasion; as if

he was determined to leave a full impression of his merits on the public mind, and a model of his art for his successors.

JULIET'S TOMB, AT VERONA.

EVERY stranger, who visits Verona, is sure to have his sympathy moved, and his curiosity excited, by what is called the "Tomb of Juliet ;" and there is no man who has read Shakspeare, that will not hasten to the spot where it lies.

Contiguous to the church of San Francesco, in Cittadella, where Romeo and Juliet were married, is a small garden, formerly attached to the Franciscan Monastery, but now in private hands. In the midst of it is an old sarcophagus, which, from time immemorial, has been shewn as the tomb of Juliet. It is much mutilated, and has sunk considerably into the earth. It is exactly six feet long, and is just wide enough to hold two bodies. The mutilation of the sides of this sarcophagus is said to have taken place when it was first removed from the church of St. Permo Maggiore, where it had lain for ages. It was then placed in a garden adjacent to the old monastery, which was accessible to the public; and every stranger who came, broke off a piece of it,

and carried it away with him. In consequence of this, the Podesta gave orders, that it should be removed, for better security, to the place where it is now exhibited; and any person attempting to do it further injury, as a proof of his or her veneration, is liable to a severe penalty.

FIRST PERFORMANCE OF THE GENTLE SHEPᎻᎬᎡᎠ.

"A PRINTER in Edinburgh, of the name of Robert Drummond, who had been employed to print one of the editions of the 'Gentle Shepherd,' having, after the rebellion of 1745, published a satirical poem, called the Town Council,' containing a smart attack on Mr. Drummond, the provost of Edinburgh; Dr. Wishart, principal of the University; Dr. Webster, one of the ministers of the city; and several other eminent whig characters;-a prosecution was instituted against him before the magistrates, that is, before the very individuals who were themselves among the parties satirised and complaining. The judgment was such as might be expected from irritated men, deciding in their own

cause.