would exceed all reasonable bounds to enter into an analysis of them. The days of her Richard and Shylock are, it is to be hoped, over for ever, though there were many sensible things in both these parts -correct conceptions and original and spirited readings, which older heads might adopt with advantage; but it was vexing to see a young and beautiful girl in such a part as Shylock, and the better she played it, the more provoking it was. In comedy there is a glorious and boundless prospect before her, and it is there she appears most perfectly at home. To the high-flown fashionable dames of genteel comedy she cannot as yet do justice, though the time may come when she will do so. One thing is against her. In the lady of high life there is much that is artificial. Now Miss Fisher is too natural for such characters; her spirits are too wild and untameable to be "cabin'd, cribbed, confined, bound in," by the ordinances of a highly polished state of society. Her fine ladies are consequently full of brilliant points-excellent in detached scenes and sentences, but not in keeping as a whole. In parts where nature has fair play, such as Peggy in the Country Girl, or Phebe in Paul Pry, "none but herself can be her parallel." How different from these, yet how delightful in itself, was her Viola in Twelfth Night. We were never before so conscious

of the extreme sweetness of her "small, delicate voice," as when giving utterance to the exquisite poetry which Shakspeare has put into the mouth of "brown Viola." It was in truth "most musical, most melancholy."

The reputation of Clara Fisher has, in a great measure, been built on her representation of the more eccentric parts of the drama, such as the Mowbrays, Little Pickles, &c. and of their kind they are perfect specimens of dramatic excellence. Some may think these are at the best but trifling affairs; we do not. A delineation true to nature is a rare thing, and well worth looking after in whatever shape it is to be found. Miss Fisher has rather a penchant for male attire, which is not to be wondered at, for it becomes her well: all other women whom we have seen wear the inexpressibles in public, cannot forget their sex, but betray throughout a smirking consciousness that they are feminine, and are of course for the most part awkward and embarrassed; she appears to forget her dress and all other minor considerations in the character she is representing.

Before coming to a conclusion, a few words about her singing. Perhaps no one with such limited powers of voice, ever equalled Miss Fisher in the effect which she gives to a song. She

not only sings it, but acts it in the most arch and spirited or tender and impressive manner. Her face is a mirror where every sentiment of humor or feeling expressed in the verse is reflected. What a delightful piece of pleasantry is her "Fall not in love;" and how tame and vapid any of her little simple ballads sound when sung afterwards by vocalists of superior pretensions. But there is no end to her varied qualifications, and there seems to be scarcely any limit to her powers.

RONZI VESTRIS.

When you do dance, I wish you

A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that; move still-still so, and own
No other function:-Shakspeare.

WE were born upon a spot of earth where feet are used for prosaic rather than poetical purposes, and where they are looked upon merely as appendages which it would be singular and inconvenient to be without. Independent of the ordinary business of life, walking and running matches, leaping, or any other hardy and vigorous exercises, were the affairs in which their services were commonly required; though, to be sure, the people did at times assemble, and voluntarily undergo and perform a violent and eccentric motion, by them termed dancing; but, as regarded all the graceful uses to which feet, and the limbs to which they are more immediately attached, might be brought by scientific cultivation, not an idea was entertained, and not a glimmering of light

had been diffused on the subject. Dancing was there in a primitive state, or rather, it was worselike the Russians, hovering between barbarism and civilization, with all the bad properties of both, and little of the good of either. The freedom and untaught grace of nature were gone, without any of the beautiful combinations and surprising achievements of art being substituted in their place. To a spectator, it seemed as if the parties engaged (the men at least) were, without any perceivable reason, subjecting themselves to a rough and somewhat disagreeable exercise. By a violent exertion of the muscles, the body was forced bolt-upright into the air, whence, as soon as the impetus had ceased, it returned as speedily as possible to the floor, which it no sooner touched, than another desperate effort again propelled it upward, and so on, until nature was exhausted. We had indeed at times misgivings if this could really be dancing; an art that was said to consist of a series of the most skilful and picturesque movements; and as we read of the Asiatic girls, the Greeks, Herodias, Mercandotti, Deshays, and others eminent in that line, we marvel exceedingly; but any expressed opinion on the subject was instantly put down by a reference to the high professional character of the two gentlemen