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UNITED STATES' NAVY.-The republican navy, at present, consists of the following frigates:-Constitution, 44, Captain Hull; United States, 44, Captain Decatur; President, 44, Commodore Rogers; Chesapeake, 36; New-York, 36; Constellation, 36, Captain Bainbridge; Congress, 36, Captain Smith; Boston, 32; Essex, 32, Captain Porter; Macedonian, (late British), S8; the John Adams corvette; Hornet sloop, of 16 guns; Syren, Argus, and Oneida brigs, of 16 guns; Vixen, Enterprise, and Viper schooners, of 12 guns; 170 gun-boats, stationed at New Orleans; and the Vengeance, Etna, Vesuvius, and Spitfire bombs.

French Navy.—In the various ports of France, Holland, and Italy, the French have 65 sail of the line, and 61 frigates, ready for sea; and 32 sail of the line, and 26 frigates, building and fitting out; so that in a short time we shall have opposed to us, under French colours, a numerical force of 97 sail of the line, and 87 frigates: but even the ships which are pretended to be ready for a start, particularly those in the Scheldt, are very badly manned; an evil for which the enemy does not possess any practicable remedy.

18th January, 1813.

DRURY-LANE, JAN. 25.-A new Tragedy, from the pen of Mr. COLERIDGE, was performed under the title of " REMORSE." The scene is laid in Spain: and the events of the play are supposed to have taken place in the reign of Philip II., shortly after the close of the civil wars against the Moors, and during the heat of the persecution which raged against them.

The language of this play is poetic and impassioned: the incidents are sufficient to keep the attention alive during the representation; and some of the situations are strikingly calculated for dramatic effect. The characters of the two brothers are well drawn and finely contrasted. That of Teresa does not rise much above mediocrity; but the conception of the part of the Moorish woman is full of poetic imagination; and the opening scenes in particular are sublime and interesting. The moral is perfect, and strict poetical justice is done on the guilty. The style is, throughout, poctical and classical, and far above the common level. It abounds with fine touches of nature, and the tender feelings are almost incessantly appealed to. Many of the passages were received with loud, general, and prolonged applause. The tragedy was, indeed, heard from beginning to end with the most marked distinction, and announced for repetition amid shouts from every corner of the theatre.

Its principal faults were too great length; and an exuberance of passages merely descriptive.

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DANCE OF DEATHS.

THE French historians relate, that in the year 1424, the English Regent gave at Paris a show, or spectacle, after the manner of his country. The scene of this entertainment was the church-yard of the Innocents. Persons of both sexes, splendidly dressed, and representing the different conditions of human life, began to execute various dances. A number of figures personating Death, whose limbs were concealed in tight dark clothes, upon which were sowed the resemblance of dry bones, so that they seemed to be walking skeletons, came and mingled in the dance, and led away now one and now another into the chambers and cellars about, where refreshments were provided. This odd allegory was called La Danse Macabrée.

SCOTCH SALUTATION.

THE North Briton at Auld Reeky, frequently greets his friend with "Weel, Donald, is na this a fine cauld rainy morning?" Indeed it is, Sandy, a fine cauld rainy morning.

POETRY.

KING ARTHUR'S ADVENTURE.

[From the Bridal of Triermain.]

BENEATH the castle's gloomy pride,
In ample round did Arthur ride
Three times; nor living thing he spied,
Nor heard a living sound,

Save that, awakening from her dream,
The owlet now began to scream,
In concert with the rushing stream,

That washed the battled mound.
He 'lighted from his goodly steed,

And he left him to graze on bank and mead;
And sfowly he climbed the narrow way,
That reached the entrance grim and gray,
And he stood the outward arch below,
And his bugle-horn prepared to blow,
In summons blithe and bold,
Deeming to rouse from iron sleep
The guardian of this dismal keep,
Which well he guess'd the hold
Of wizard stern, or goblin grim,
Or pagan of gigantic limb,
The tyrant of the wold.

XV.

The ivory bugle's golden tip

Twice touch'd the monarch's manly lip,
And twice his hand withdrew.
Think not but Arthur's heart was good!
His shield was cross'd by the blessed rood,
Had a pagan host before him stood,

He had charged them through and through;
Yet the silence of that ancient place
Sunk on his heart, and he paused a space
Ere yet his horn he blew.
But, instant as its 'larum rung
The castle-gate was open flung,
Portcullis rose with crashing groan
Full harshly up its groove of stone.

The balance beams obeyed the blast,
And down the trembling drawbridge cast.
The vaulted arch before him lay,
With nought to bar the gloomy way,
And onward Arthur paced, with hand
On Caliburn's resistless brand.

XVI.

An hundred torches, flashing bright,
Dispelled at once the gloomy night
That loured along the walls,
And showed the king's astonished sight
The inmates of the halls.

Nor wizard stern, nor goblin grim,
Nor giant huge of form and limb,
Nor heathen knight, was there;

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But the cressets, which odours flung aloft,
Showed, by their yellow light and soft,
A band of damsels fair!
Onward they came, like summer wave
That dances to the shore;
An hundred voices welcome gave,
And welcome o'er and o'er!
An hundred lovely hands assail
The bucklers of the monarch's mail,
And busy laboured to unhasp,
Rivet of steel and iron clasp;
One wrapp'd him in a mantle fair,

And one flung odours on his hair;

His short curled ringlets one smooth'd down,

One wreathed them with a myrtle crown.

A bride upon her wedding day

Was tended ne'er by troop so gay.

XVII.

Loud laughed they all-the king, in vain,
With questions tasked the giddy train;
Let him entreat, or crave or call,

'Twas one reply-loud laughed they all.
Then o'er him mimic chains they fling,
Framed of the fairest flowers of spring.
While some their gentle force unite,
Onward to drag the wondering knight,
Some, bolder, urge his pace with blows,
Dealt with the lily or the rose.
Behind him were in triumph borne
The warlike arms he late had worn.
Four of the train combined to rear
The terrors of Tintadgel's spear;

Two, laughing at their lack of strength,
Dragg'd Caliburn* in cumbrous length;
One, while she aped a martial stride,
Placed on her brows the helmet's pride,
Then scream'd, 'twixt laughter and surprise,
To feel its depth o'erwhelm her eyes.
With revel-shout, and triumph-song,
Thus gayly marched the giddy throng.

XVIII.

Through many a gallery and a hall
They led, I ween, their royal thrall.
At length, beneath a fair arcade,
Their march and song at once they staid.
The eldest maiden of the band,

(The lovely maid was scarce eighteen)
Raised, with imposing air, her hand,
And reverend silence did command,
On entrance of their Queen,
And they were mute.-But as a glance
They steal on Arthur's countenance
Bewildered with surprise,

Their smother'd mirth again 'gan speak,
In archly dimpled chin and cheek,
And laughter-lighted eyes.

XIX.

The attributes of these high days
Now only live in minstrel lays;
For Nature, now exhausted, still
Was then profuse of good and ill.
Strength was gigantic, valour high,
And wisdom soar'd beyond the sky
And beauty had such matchless beam,
As lights not now a lover's dream.
Yet, e'en in that romantic age,

Ne'er were such charms by mortals seen,

As Arthur's dazzled eyes engage,

When forth on that enchanted stage
With glittering train of maid and page,
Advanced the castle's Queen.
While up the hall she slowly passed,
Her dark eye on the king she cast,
That flash'd expression strong

The longer dwelt that lingering look,
Her cheek the livelier colour took,

And scarce the shame-faced king could brook
The gaze that lasted long.

King Arthur's words.

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