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No XII. .
Remarks on Frankenstein, or the Mo.
dern Prometheus ; a NoveL.......... 613 Elegy on the Death of an Infant .......620 Peace.
621 The Roses ( Inscribed to Miss T. Janam.ib. Further Anecdotes of the Shepherd's Dog ib. Buckhaven.co.no
-626 Letter of James VI.com.mm
-628 The Dampers.com.ar
ib. Narrative of a Fatal Event..
-630 The Battle of Pentland Hills
635 Extracts from Lettsom's Correspondence 636 Horæ Sinicæ, No I. Groo-loo-kri-tchi
(or the Brown-plumed Condor) Notices in Natural History, No II.....640
Changes in the Plumage of Birds...641
w... 642 Description of a Self-registering Hygrometer
m.643 Remarks on the Histories of the Kraken and Great Sea Serpent
.645 Letters of Timothy Tickler to various Literary Characters.
No II. to Mr James Hogg om....654 Analytical Essays on the Early English Dramatists
..656 Dr Nicol Jarvie's Letter to the Author of Rob Roy
662 Notices of the Acted Drama in London,
No III. Boxing Match at Wimbledon... 669 Remarks on the Periodical Criticism of
England—in a Letter to a friend......670
Notice of Mr Hazlitt's Lectures on
English Poetry, now in the course of
679 Lecture Fifth.On Thomson and
Cowper, and Descriptive Poetry
.681 Lecture Sixth. On Gray, Swift, and Collins
683 Some Account of the Life and Writings
of Ensign and Adjutant Odoherty, late
of the 99th Regiment (Continued )....685 Time's Magic Lanthern, No I. Machiavel's Death-bed ...www.
-689 Regalia of Scotland ...
691 Observations on the Antobiography of
Bishop Watson ( Concluded )..........692 Proceedings of the Royal Society of Edinburgh mora
„697 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC
INTELLIGENCE....... .699 Works preparing for PUBLICATION....702 MONTHLY LIST OF NEW PUBLICATIONS..more
noncommon 705 MONTHLY REGISTER. SCOTTISH CHRONICLE............... Promotions and Appointments ........ 713 Commercial Report.
vorana 715 Meteorological Report.
co.....com 720 Agricultural Report........ now.722 Births, Marriages, and Death S...mmm.723
To whom Communications ( post puid) may be addressed ;
(OLIVER & BOYD, Printers.]
The Review of Captain Tuckey's interesting Narrative shall appear in our next Number. The Letter from Berkshire has been received by us as a very particular fa
The practice of which our friend disapproves, has not, we assure him, been adopted without considerable reflection, and now that it is fairly established, we feel unwilling to depart from it.-The Essays on Italian Literature, and particularly on the Modern Italian Drama, which he expresses so much anxiety to see, are in an advanced state of preparation, and shall make their appearance in the course of our next Volume. Any communications from our respected correspondent will be most acceptable.
“ Cambria” is unavoidably deferred till next Number. We hope the promised communications from the same quarter may arrive in time to bear it company in our next.
The “ Critique on Mr Yates” (the new actor), and the “Remarks suggested by the Dinner given in this City to Mr Kemble,” have come too late for this Number.—Nothing would give us greater pleasure than to insert a regular account of the “ Acted Drama in Edinburgh," nor do we know any person to whom we could more willingly intrust it than our correspondent. We agree with him in thinking that the present condition of our Scottish Theatricals reflects great discredit, not on our actors (for these are good, and would become much better were their exertions properly stimulated or rewarded), but upon the corrupt and effeminate taste of the public, who seem to have pretty nearly lost all relish for the rational amusements of the preceding generation.
The “ Essay on Party Spirit” soon. Also the “ Testimonia.”
The Remarks on the Lyrical Poets of the Old Testament, if possible, in No XIV.
We hope the Author of the Account of the Kraken will pursue his interesting speculations.
We shall at all times be most happy to insert the communications of Y. whose abilities we highly respect, when they do not accidently interfere (as in the case of his criticism on Dryden's Dramatic genius), with arrangements previously made with other correspondents.
“ Answers to Queries on the Poor Laws, &c.” in our next. This corresa pondent's communications shall always meet with attention.
Want of room prevents us from noticing, at present, the communications of a vast number of other correspondents.
A friend whom we permitted, for a different purpose, to have access to our Cabinet of Communications, has amused himself by drawing up the humorous “ Notices” on the opposite page. We do not insert them, as he wished us to do, by way of serious answers to our correspondents ; but merely because we wished our readers to partake in a jeu d'esprit, which afforded so much pleasure to ourselves. Subscribers can either drop or retain the pages as they please, when they send their sets to the binder.
CONTRIBUTORS to Blackwood's Magazine, Tickler! thy letters, full of point and Namie, Our honoured Correspondents one and all, May do some good to boys with inky fingers ; Ye who in Blackwood's shop are never seen, Mysterious is the change from Hogg to Grahame And ye who once per diem use to call.
Yet not behind our next the paper lingers. When thro’ the following pages ye shall look,
We're glad to see that Hogg takes no offence Some will seem grim among you, and some gay; At Timothy ;- and why indeed should he ? Joyous the scribblers who have found a nook,
Genius is coupled well with manly sense ; Gruff those deferred till April or till May. Kilmeny's Bard may bear all jokes with glee. Necessity, quoth Horace, hath no legs !
We'll soon insert the letter, dated “ Humber," "Twould ruin Ebony to print the whole ;
But thee “ Philander” we with scorn dismiss. The veiled Conductor your forbearance begs;
“ Juridicus" has sent us perfect lumber ; We can't afford twelve sheets, upon our soul !
“ The Florist” does not suit a work like this. E., N., T. R., A. P., L., F., and H.,
We much suspect, “ Alpina,” in last Number, Each several man, we much approve thy article ; Was written by a Master-not a Miss. Welaugh'd at thine, friend S. (you wicked wretch!) Best thanks and compliments to Dr JarvieBut fear we dare not print a single particle.
We've two small questions, worthy buck, to ask ye: Last month we ventured on some savoury bits, Will fewer personalities not serve you? A few good things, exactly to your gout, Why do you always quiz our friends in Glasgow ? They threw the prudish back-shop into fits, And made even Cognoscenti to look blue.
Good " Civis Glasguensis," we must beg ye
To pay attention to our friendly hint, My lady swears she will no more take in
We can't insert your Life of John Carnegie, A journal which such tinker-stories tells ;
Unless he authorises us to print.
Y., of thine essays on the plays of Dryden ;
But H. M., all our English stage will do, man, From the exactest and most nice morale ; Even Constable's wise herd shall not preserve
Thou surely giv'st the Bard too sore a hiding. Such parlour-window ethics as we shall.
Of pimpled Hazlitt's coxcomb lectures writing, Nonot that journal, most unlaughable
Our friend with moderate pleasure we peruse. Decorous, issuing from that lordly shop ;
A. Z., when Kean's or Shakspear's praise inWhich gentle Bob, in vain attempts to sell,
diting, While in his trim boudoir blue stockings stop. Seems to have caught the flame of either's muse. (Divine boudoir, and kind obliging Bobby! Thanks to thee, Lauerwinkel, thanks Mein-herr, One moment on your charms we pause with joy; And thanks to thee, our young friend, who dost That back-shop is the Muse's airy lobby,
render him : And her most graceful usher, thou, my boy! It seldom happens, that, when Britons err, Let Musty Laing a pedant crowd convoke, Their German allies sapient counsel tender 'em. 'Mid the tall folios of his dungeon drear; Let shirtless students tolerate the smoke
Euphrastes, we declare, is in a phrenzy, Of grim Carfrae's putrescent atmosphere;
We send him back his papers with our thanks,
“ Scots Worthies, Number One, Kincaid Mac. Let prosing Gazetteer and smart Reviewer,
kenzie,” In Constable's dark den their fingers cool ; And Number Two, Sir John Marjoribanks. Let jocund Johnny's sale-room still secure The tea-pot buying, missal-gazing fool ;
Dear Cambrian friend ! you've heard a genuine Let solemn Dominies to Skelly run,
The ancient Editors have lodged their summons Let Theologians haunt the Bailie's still ;
'Gainst Blackwood (that devout and ill-used Tory); Dim Antiquarians croak with Jamieson,
'Mong wits such measures certainly are rum ones. And Dilettanti prate with Peter Hill.
Tho' thistles spring profuse on Scottish ground, But while the young, the beauteous, and the gay,
And few, few roses lift their heads among 'em, In circles sit where much-lov'd Miller bows ;
Yet where the lovely stranger flowers are found, There let us lounge the idler hours away,
V. P. believe us, Scottish eyes don't wrong 'em. And chase the wrinkles from our critic brows.) But to return--next month we mean to handle
We do request thee, MAKER, from our clay,
To mould us men: we do solicit thee,
From darkness to promote us into day,
The prayer is bold. Yet our Prometheus be! Take care, Guiseppé, times are altered much, A Berkshire Rector has been pleased to wonder Since charming Pulci and thy Lafontaine ;
Why we've dismissed the primitive arrangement, If the Suppression get thee in their clutch, He hates, he says, from verse to prose to blunder, Ne'er shalt thou sing Venetian Dames again.
Our quick transitions seem to him derangement. Of all the blockheads that have sent us verse, Begging our good friend's pardon, we prefer Sure thou, Philemon, art the most obtuse, To mix the dulce with the utile, Of articles our Blackwood must be scarce, And think it has in fact a charming air E'er we waste paper upon such a muse.
Such different things in the same page to see.
A sonnet there, a good grave essay here, We send our best respects to Dr Chiel,
But this is nothing to the purpose-Q, “ Repository,” “ Notice Analytical,”
Did you thinkwEshould not detect yourhumming? And whomsoever such omissions fret,
Why hear we not more frequently from you, We must say we esteem him hypercritical. D. I.? We hope Sir Thomas Craig is coming. The pompous airs of that exploded journal,
The “ Necromancer" is no witch, we fear, We own do most immensely tickle us ;
And the “ Young Lady” like an old one writes. We never saw, or Corporal or Colonel,
This Number of our Work completes the year, Make of such little things so great a fuss.
P. will observe. Pray where have prick'd “ The Touches original they say they give one !
Knights Some patch from Hazlitt's lectures (see our notice of 'em,
Errant? They should not stop with Number
ONE. Translations from French Journals, don't de
“ T. C. on Shakspeare" doth himself surpass. ceive one, We hope themselves are sensible, how low 'tis
B's correspondence we would wish to shun.
The man who writes “ On Baxter” is an ass. of ?em. Then comes some song from Albion's Anthology, Few things more sweetly vary civil life Copied per favour of our good friend Sandy ; Than a barbarian savage tinkler tale. Dry jokes by the great Author of Petralogy,
Our friend who on the Gypsies writes in Fife, And ballads to the tune of Jack-a-dandy.
We verily believe, promotes our sale. In all the Magazines for twenty years
From various quarters we have understood, The Old Bohemian Gypsey cuts a figure, A certain Baronet is waxing wroth, And now the hag in Constable's appears, So we incline, ere long, to cool his blood, And sits by Maga's side in youthful vigour. And give the Knight some salt unto his broth. We mention this, because it was not fair, Fitted to give an Editor the vapours, In D. from old wives tales this one to single,
“ Crito,” is, we frankly tell ye, To send it to us for insertion here,
Quite otherwise with three ingenious papers, And lest we smok’d him, to cheat Mr Pringle. Named “ Rembrandt, Galileo, Machiavelli.” The old Scots Magazine was, in its time,
The last of these our present Number decks ; A decent reputable plundering book ; We don't think Cleghorn's prose, or Pringle's Though things anonymous our tempers vex,
Unto its author we are grateful debtors ; rhyme,
On this occasion, thank ye, “MAN OF LETTERS. Will ever give the work a better look. But if they really wish to make a stir,
“ Bibliopola Londinensis,” deem What hinders them from taking in James Graham? Not fudge the whole of these appalling rumours; Malthus, Clieshbotham, Bentham can aver
A deep and bigot horror, it would seem, How great Helvidius heaped them all with
Some brethren have conceived 'gainst Blackwood's shame.
humours. Just here and there, in a few hundred years, The most are sadly under one huge thumbIf with keen eye the stream of time we scan, Even Pat, we hear, upon his last sale dinner, A Bacon, Newton, or James Grahame, appears Tipped Bill a hint in private, not to come, To renovate the intellect of man.
The pious can't eat salt with such a sinner. Illustrious youth, though envious dulness sneer
There are some things that do one good in hearing, At the bright radiance of thy rising day,
Some jokes that should on no account be lost; Pursue thy heaven-decreed sublime career,
What think ye of our Prince of Pisos, swearing Be not discouraged though thy works don't pay. That Blackwood should to Beelzebub be tost ? The midnight oil that wastes thy feeble body Trains and refreshes the immortal soul ;
And why ? O portent rare of matchless brass ! Far wiser ink consume than whisky-toddy
For publishing “ a parody profane."
How think ye will his own offences pass ?
Does the Review a Christian air maintain ?
Among those pamphlets stitched in blue andyellow;
How easily could he prove, my worthy fellow,
That all your wits against the Gospel sneer ! The “ Feræ" make sad work, but Dr Horn Maintains the thing's a sort of allegory. We burn'd to-day the “ Sonnet to the Morn,” And likewise made short work of a “Long Story.” And now, in the old business style to stop, “ Bess on Flirtation” is but sorry stuff,
Next Number shall grace April's 20th day, While Belles are beautiful, Beaux will be civil. By May the 1st they'll be in Baldwin's shop. “ Satan Avaunt” is humorous enough; But we much fear, would vex our printers' devil. To Correspondents Pray the postage pay.
To the Publisher.
WERE I A KING, MY BLACKWOOD, I WOULD RAISE
FAR IN THE WOMB OF TIME, THY BROWS SHALL CROWN
WITH LEAVES OF DEATHLESS LAUREL.
GAY AND SAGE,
AND YOUNG AND OLD, AND MAID, AND MATRON HOAR,
AND WHEN THE TWENTIETH OF THE MOON'S AT HAND,
ONE BREATHLESS HUSH EXPECTANT REIGNS FROM SHORE TO SHORE,