citizens, well-known in the said town and vicinity for his annual concerts, for his own pleasant voice, deep-toned and melodious, and for the numerous little airs of his own composition, with which he has long delighted the cognoscenti of the place. Sometimes, (though often too rarely,) circumstances enable him to take a bolder flight, and by the publication of his most successful efforts his genius becomes better known and more appreciated. Mr John Turnbull of Ayr is one of those whom we are glad to have it in our power to bring more widely into notice. His musical taste has been well cultivated, and his style of composition, without being destitute of cha. racter, is chaste and simple. The song before us, in B. flat, is a very pretty melody with an exceedingly appropriate piano-forte accompaniment; and, what is of importance in all songs, the music and words are well adapted for each other. We advise Mr Turnbull to proceed as he has commenced; he is following the footsteps of his deceased countryman, R. A. Smith, and it is not unlikely that he may be one of those destined to make up to us for his loss. MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. RECOLLECTIONS OF A PARSONAGE. THE MINISTER AT HOME. "You will never find yourself at home and comfortable," said one of my most respectable farmers to me on the day after my settlement, "unless you rent as much ground as, along with your four acres of glebe land, will keep a man and a couple of horses." So to it I went. bours (and good and kind they were) for the labouring of my glebe acres, which I still reserved to feed a cow, and keep at the same time, as my friend the farmer expressed it, "roughness" about the house. My glebe, to be sure, was ploughed, sowed, and harrowed, but at the convenience of those who gratuitously offered and gave their services; consequently, it was seldom laboured in season, or sufficiently. "Thistles grew instead of wheat, and cockle instead of barley;" every year my oats were shorter in the leg and thinner on the head than formerly, till at length, one very dry season, I could have carried the whol grain produce of my three acres home on my back. "A mouse might have sat on its hind legs eating the top pickle of it." My cow, too, gradually mistimed herself, or was mistimed by the maids whose duty it was to attend to her. She seldom was in milk till midsummer, and the blankets were car ied from the servant's bed, I could observe, to lift her, after the spring weather had returned; yet poor, and skinny, and feeble as she was, she cost me a great sum, under the general designation of fodder. Happily for me, she was fairly suffocated one evening on new uncut potatoes, and I shut the byre door for ever. I let my glebe to a neighbouring farmer, to him, namely, who had all along guided me in my measures took him bound to supply, at market price, my family with milk, cheese, and butter and immediately applied to the heritors for a garden-wall. This application, as I had not even the semblance of an enclosure, was immediately and effectually granted; and I saw, in a few months, a rood of good rich land around my front door, fairly enclosed with a stone and lime fence, from six to eight feet in height. I was now in my element; and I knew it, the moment that I saw the last stone placed over the gate of my garden. I felt all the force of that Eden happiness, which Adam exI rented a small farm, contiguous to the glebe, which perienced. I planned, dug, hedged, planted gooseber my predecessor, who was a sensible, well-doing man, had ries, pears, apples, cherries, plums, pease, beans, strawfarmed (but at a lower rent) successfully before me; berries, onions, leeks, carrots, turnips; together with and I contrived, at the very first market, by the assist- every assortment of border ornament, from the splendid ance of the said friend, to select a strong pony, for the sun-flower, to the sweet-scented wall-flower and mignodouble purpose of rising and farm labour, together with nette. Bees I procured, and they wrought, fought, an old grey mare and a curly-headed urchin of seven-hived, and buzzed about me. Arbours I constructed in teen, from a great variety of beast and human samples every corner. Seats I erected, stationary and movable. there produced. For a few weeks things went on pretty Laburnums, ivy, sweet-brier, moss-roses, all manner of smoothly. The maids and the man arranged pretty well, sweet-looking or smelling things, rose around me, as if and I saw the labours of the season proceeding without by the wand of enchantment. I locked my garden gate, much annoyance; but, anon, matters went otherwise. and, placing myself in a sunny corner, and under the My man quarrelled with the one maid, and became fully shade of shrubberies of my own planting, I read-Bosintimate enough with the other;-my ploughs, harrows, ton? No.-Picten? No.-Matthew Henry? No-no carts, and all manner of crooked and pronged utensils -no-I read Thomson's Seasons. were to pay;-the old grey mare became lame of the far leg (by this time I wished both her and her leg far enough); and my amphibious pony had twice nearly broken the minister's neck; in fact, his knees were now witnesses against him in any market, and he was of no service whatever in riding. Andrew found that he would not draw without the auld mare, and the auld mare again figured rather awkwardly on her lame leg. When a boy I had been enthusiastic, and, as my years ripened into manhood, I had walked with poets in my pocket, and joy, heaving, beating, springing in my heart-in glens, along steeps, and adown rivulets. I had grasped, and clutched the mist and the darkness in my hands, and almost imagined that I could bring the spiritual world into contact with my bodily perceptions. When more advanced in the fervid and fearful voyage Thus, things came to a stand; and, instead of enjoy- of life, I had whether the boat sprang to the wave, and ing myself, and my family, and my flock, and my various trode it downward, or seemed to sink beneath an overministerial duties, as I was wont to do, I was kept in powering, overbroken weight,-whether maddened with constant "hot water.' The smith's grim phiz and long hope or with disappointment still looked forward to a bill I will never forget; the carpenter was more modest future calm and quietude-to a fixed and a sunny resiand less importunate; yet still "caris were carts, and dence, where my heart might float onwards in peaceharrows were harrows." Another pair of horses would possessing a consciousness of its own internal capabilicost me a penny; and my old cattle were, in fact, ties, yet disdaining, as it were, and refusing to bring unmarketable. I fairly cut and ran.' I went to them into conspicuous and strenuous exercise. My life the laird-begged to be off-renounced my lease-paid dream had been nearly realized, when cows, carts, and one year's rent-sold the grey mare to an egg man, and all the trumpery of husbandry, had crossed my path, the brown pony to the gauger-rouped my plough, and had driven me out again to sea, when already in grapes, hows, and wheelbarrows-and commenced with the harbour. But at length and at last, as if by accident, the second year on a reduced establishment, and under and under the guidance of circumstances which I had In actual loss of more extent than I care to make public. not the sense or the management to direct, I passed una was now dependent on the assistance of my good neigh-consciously into the happy valley. I found myself sur rounded with mountains, with trees, with walls, with meditates-feels-raves-romps with his children, or fruits and fragrance, and in a corner of my own garden, reading "Thomson's Seasons." If life has any thing better than this to bestow, I should like to hear of it. If a country clergyman, in the first blush of his self-wrought happiness, could be better employed, I should like to know how. From the delightful repose of such feelings, so gently, so soothingly agitated, it is that the brightest thoughts, the deepest sentiments, the most convincing arguments proceed. You may drug the divinity student with gloss and commentary;-you may text-book his leisure hours to the last minute he can possibly appropriate ;-you may lecture him, question him, convince him, per domesticates with his wife. Here he listens to the song of evening and of morn, watching all the various stages of nest-building, and incubation; and here, too, he becomes acquainted with every tree in its bud-its blossom-its setting-its promise-its full-grown fruit; till autumn carry him again back into winter-and he be left to ru minate, in gleesome anticipation, on the snow-drops and daisies of returning spring. TERIAN CHURCHES. T. G. To the Editor of the Edinburgh Literary Journal. suade him, instruct him, in fact, and doctrine, and opi- THE INTRODUCTION OF ORGANS INTO PRESBY. nion; up to the very teeth you may cram him, with Mosheim, Clarke, and Paley, but, if you do not win and keep his heart,-if his soul is not spread like the gossamer of Autumn, over every moving and still object, if he has not, in short, a taste for nature, and a reverence for God, he will, in all probability, take up with the clerical farming and marketing at last. SIR, I crave your forbearance to a few remarks suggested by the letter of " X. Y. Z." in your last number, on the subject of the introduction of an organ into the Relief Chapel in Roxburgh Place. The writer talks of this as a "bold innovation upon the severe limits af fixed by ancient prejudice,-a pleasing proof of the progress made by true liberality and sound good feeling;" and he trusts that "the Established Church will not permit herself to remain behind her more rigid sister." Now, in my humble opinion, the Church of Scotland is behind no establishment on the face of the earth; and if it is wished to effect any innovation upon her modes of worship, let that innovation be based upon reason or Scripture, and not upon the practice of any other establishment, held out for her imitation. The Church of England came into existence at the fiat of a sanguinary and tyrannical monarch; while the Scottish Church was the fruit of the enlightenment and piety of her people, whose blood was cheerfully poured forth in its defence. There is then no reason for assuming, a priori, that the practices of the English Church, or any other church, are worthy of being imitated by us; and the letter in question affords no argument whatever upon the gene. ral merits of the question. The character of a Scotch clergyman stands deservedly and undoubtedly high-but let him beware of the consequences, if he devote himself to secular avocations of an engrossing character; and above all, let him avoid 66 farming" as he would keep clear of the pestilence. His previous habits-his education-his present employment, and the whole tenor of his thoughts are, or ought to be, at variance with such harassing and engrossing considerations, as farming involves. An aged or sick person is dying, and in need of spiritual comforting; but the minister is out-he is looking after the delivery of grain, or the covering of a drain. The text on Sabbath leads to a contempt of earthly, in comparison of heavenly possessions; such is the language, and the language of the pulpit exclusively, for it is well known to every old woman in the parish, that the minister never" sells his hen, mair than ither folk, on a rainy day." Forgiveness of injuries is inculcated strenuously, but by one who looks from the church door with somewhat of a sinister aspect upon the man who purchased his last thrashing of barley at a shilling a-boll below the market-price. The duties of a clergyman are confessedly sufficient to engross his whole thoughts and exertions; and yet" our minister" attends markets-buys, sells, speculates, and fights on, through all the turmoil of a farming life, with the most devoted farmer of the neighbourhood. No; "we cannot serve God and Mammon"-the law ensures every minister in the possession of a quarter of an acre of garden land, suitably enclosed and defended; and within this, assuredly, lies the proper sphere of his amusements and relaxations. "Kail yards," with all their accompaniments of Sabbath retirement, repose, and devotion, have been to me an object of reverential and pleasing regard from my youth upwards. It is in the corner of the "yard" that old grannie is to be found and to be heard at night-fall-when the soul of the aged ascends If then it is true that the simplicity of our country's in "groanings which may not be uttered" to God on worship be the indication of a regulating and pervading high. It is on a tanzied or green turf couch, in an- principle, and if we are asked to permit a departure other recess, that the labourer sits, with his children from it in any instance, it would seem that the proper around him, and that his careful partner narrates to him method would be, not to introduce a solitary infraction her in-door doings during the week-that all the roll- of the system, one anomalous violation of the harmony ing childhood spreads itself out in freedom and reli- visible in the whole structure, but to set ourselves to regious attention, whilst Scripture stories are told, chap- consider the principle itself, and if it be found erroneous, ters are read, questions are put, and psalms are repeat then to depart from it, not in this instance alone, but in ed. It is from this little neuk of property that kail- every point where its influence can be detected. If we blades or leaves are brought-when the pot is on-and can persuade ourselves to question and to revise this that a hungry and a numerous family are regaled with great fundamental feature of our national worship, and viands of the most wholesome and delicious character. to loosen what the wisdom of our ancestors has fixed, What his "kail-yard" is to the labourer, his manse- and the lapse of centuries consolidated, and if we ar garden, comprehending in it the character both of kit-rive at the conclusion, that this simplicity is unworthy chen-garden and orchard, is to the minister. It is his of being retained, then let us, at once, put the new dogstudy—his closet_his drawing-room. Here he reads ma in force to its full extent, let us not only have or Our venerated Church has been charged with rigidity in her tenets, and austere simplicity in her forms; but it has never been, and cannot be, denied that the institution, as a whole, exhibits one consistent character per vading it throughout. Her simplicity is not the result of accident or caprice, but the effect of a strong and guiding principle, attaching its distinctive traces to every part of her discipline. Of this principle, and of its applicability to ecclesiastical matters, the propriety has been questioned; and I am not now to enter upon its de fence; only I state my own opinion, that the Church, who fearlessly trusts her influence and her dignity to the naked majesty of truth, assumes a bearing of much more real loftiness than another who will not let herself be seen except in a holiday suit. S gans, but painted windows, glowing with imaged saints, let us have frescoes on our walls, and crucifixes in our hands, let us kneel at our public prayers, and bow at every mention of the name of Christ. All these are "adjuncts of devotion ;" and nothing can be said in favour of one, which does not equally support the rest. None of these things appear in themselves culpable or pernicious; but they are equally ready for the service of falsehood as of truth, and have been much oftener used, nay, seem more easily and naturally applicable, for the purposes of the former. The question then, I apprehend, comes to be, not "shall we have organs or no?" but shall we abide by, or depart from, that great and leading feature which has characterized for centuries the Protestant church of Scotland? I am for abiding by it. I am for defending it as the palladium of our venerable and bloodbought establishment, as the sublimest monument of the piety, the intellect, and the philosophy of our coun tively necessary, in order to remove the slur cast upon Your most obedient servant, SCIENCE. DERER BURKE. [We are happy to have it in our power to present our readers try: and even independently of its intrinsic merits, I PHRENOLOGICAL DEVELOPEMENT OF THE MURam for keeping it simply as one of the parts of that sacred edifice, whose minutest angle should be touched with reverence,—and as one of those strong distinctions between Protestantism and Popery, which, if the signs of the times do not lie, there is no cause to soften, and much reason to preserve, unimpaired, in order that the banners of eternal truth may be as different from those of falsehood, as their sources, and their natures, and their effects, are different. There is much more which I could wish to say upon this subject, but I cannot encroach farther on your va luable space, excepting to state a single idea with regard to the improvement of our psalmody. If my observations of what is going on in public opinion are correct, a change is at present taking place in the feelings with regard to religion. It had been long unfashionable, especially among the male sex, to think of or pay regard to religion: and one of the many indications of this sentiment was, its being considered unfashionable to sing in church. This silly weakness, along with the general feeling which caused it, is subsiding; and the present time seems to me not unfavourable for an attempt to render the vocal music of our churches more impressive than the strains that issue from any mechanical and inanimate source. The new church of St Stephen's affords an excellent field for the experiment I am about to propose; and if it were seriously undertaken by the excellent person who has been appointed its minister, little doubt could be entertained of its suc. cess. Let a first-rate precentor be got, part of whose stated duty it shall be to instruct the congregation in sacred music. Let a few hours in the course of every week be appointed for this purpose, and let the church be then open to the whole congregation. Let the precentor arrange the pupils according to the qualities of their ears and voices, and accustom them to sing the different parts of the psalm tunes in use,-in which employment the monitorial system might, perhaps, be usefully applied. Let the precentor's salary be sufficient to cover this part of his trouble, leaving zeal to be cherished by an occasional collection. The great difficulty would be to induce the congregation, or rather the younger part of them-for upon them the scheme would mainly depend, to attend the lessons; but were the subject kept in their view from the pulpit, and were the minister, by personal exertion, to induce a few leading persons to set an example, I think this obstacle would soon be surmounted; and let the system once be fairly established, its permanency, if properly cherished by those superintending it, would be completely ensured. To a certain extent this system has already been adopted in one or two churches; but a degree of anxiety corresponding to the importance of the object, has not been manifested for its success. Something of the sort, however, upon a great and established system, is impera with the subjoined interesting scientific and phrenological information, connected with a subject which at present engrosses so much of the public attention. Every reliance may be placed upon the accuracy of the statements, as they have been prepared with much care and impartiality. They will be followed up next Saturday with some additional facts, and a general view of the inferences to be drawn from the whole.] THE following Craniological Report was taken a few hours after the death of the criminal. The first table relates to the size of the head and absolute developement of the several Organs ;-the second expresses the gradations in size, or relative developement of the Organs. I. From the Ear to the Centre of Philopro- From ditto to Lower Individuality, II. Amativeness, very large. INCHES. 4 8-10ths. 5 5 4-10ths. 5 7-10ths. 5 5-10ths. 5 61-8th. 5 3-10ths 4 6-10ths. 5 8-10ths. 5 9-10ths. 5 5-10ths. Firmness, large. Form, full. Such is the developement of this notorious murderer, whose name has already become a byword for villainy, and will long be perpetuated in the Annals of Crime. On this report, however, it is necessary to observe, that the principal Organs, included in the genus of " Propensities," are here represented larger than they could have existed during life; because the measurement was taken over the cranial integuments, which, at the posterior and posterior-lateral parts of the head, are always found distended by congestion of blood, in consequence of the criminal being thrown upon his back immediately after execution. Our readers will easily understand this, when they are informed, that in cases of death by hanging, drowning, lightning, &c. the blood remains uncoagulated, and gravitates to those parts of the body which rest upon the floor. Hence, in cases similar to this, the integuments at the posterior part of the head, neck, and back, are invariably found in a very turgid state; and it is over this distension that the Phrenological casts and measurements are, after death, always taken. For example, in the Phrenological Busts of Mary Mackinnon and Haggart, the distance from Destructiveness to Destructiveness measures 6 inches ;-on the naked skull, however, the measurement is only 5 inches. In the case of Mary Mackinnon, also, from Combativeness to Combativeness, measures on the bust 5 inches 4-10ths, on the skull 4 inches 7-10ths. This circumstance in the case of Burke will affect the usual number of Organs, including Amativeness, Philoprogenitiveness, Combativeness, Destructiveness, &c.; and it should be also remembered, that on this account the moral and intellectual Organs,-Benevolence, Ideality, Comparison, &c. are made to appear relatively less than they actually are. On the whole, it will be seen from the preceding statement, that the Organs of the Moral Sentiments are more developed than was to have been expected from what we at present know of the character of Burke. The Intellectual Organs also are, perhaps, fully large; but from those in which we are most interested-the propensities at the back part of the head-we cannot yet draw any very accurate conclusions, for the reasons we have above mentioned. Nor, for the same reasons, can the bust, which was taken by Mr Joseph, on Thursday morning, be considered as any fair criterion, as it was taken over the distended integuments. Having understood that Mr Combe was to make some remarks upon this subject in his Lecture on Thursday, we attended at the Clyde Street Hall. Mr Combe began by regretting that it was not in his power to exhibit the east of Burke, as he had promised; two had been taken, one by Mr Joseph, and another by Mr O'Neil; but the former was not yet ready to be taken from the mould, and the latter having been taken over the hair, was less adapted to their purpose. He had himself seen it for a short time, but was not yet able to remark upon it. He hoped, however, to have it in his power to present a cast at his next lecture. In the meantime, he had been informed by an able Phrenologist, that the developement corresponded in every particular with the dispositions manifested by Burke. He said that the character of this individual, in consequence of his late atrocities, was somewhat obscured from the public eye; and that it should be remembered that he had, during a considerable portion of his life, refrained from crime, having been for some time in the Donegal militia, and not having committed murder till the thirty-sixth year of his age. No former theory of philosophy could explain the anomaly of these debasing faculties having remained so long inactive, excepting Phrenology. He might also add, that he had seen a gentleman who had witnessed the dissection of the brain, and who informed him that the cerebral organ of Destructiveness was enormously large, and that the bone under which it was developed was much attenuated, so as to be nearly diaphanous. It is not our intention to enter at present into any phrenological controversy; but we propose returning to this subject next Saturday, when we hope to be able to add some farther interesting particulars. As the Literary Journal goes to press early every Friday morning, the present remarks have been necessarily prepared on Thursday. ORIGINAL POETRY. SEVEN SONNETS TO E→→→→→ I. 'Tis not the flattering folly of rash youth, And oh! far less the voice of empty praise, In which so often I have dared to raise Thee above human parallel ;-Love is truth In speech no less than thought, and wanting this 'Twould forfeit all the purest of its bliss. Well may I deem thee something more than those Who pass and are forgotten hour by hour! By thoughts of thee light bursts upon life's woes; And when, escaping from its daily bounds, In thoughts of thee my spirit knows her power; The current of my soul turns all to thee; Strength not its own my buoyant heart surrounds, And light, which earth hath never seen, I see! II. SHOW me a world where duty undisturb'd And sorrow's discipline forsakes life's school Shall be to them a shadow or a form! Show me a world where Friendship never fails, III. BRING me a harp from Heaven, if thou wouldst hear Sounds that have never swell'd on land or sea; By thunder or by winds, to sway the soul; Strip her of beauty, and her nature's dower, And place the treasures under my control. Oh! human tongues were form'd for skulking fraud, To barter with, to cozen or conceal They have no words thy excellence tó láud,— 7 They have no power to tell thee what I feel: In Heaven alone, from which these feelings came, And in the songs of Heaven, they'll have a name. IV. On! for an eye of vision so intense, That matter gave no boundary to its ken; That heavenly songs could reach it in this den 'Mongst all that human natures must endure : I would be what my wildest dreams have thought Concerning beauty, excellence, and love; Oh! I would reach what but in dreams I've sought, So that thy spotless mind might view in me, V. As a sweet voice with unexpected song Comes floating through the stillness of the night, Till sense and soul sink the full tides among ;— From sea and land, the lake and rocky height,- Entrancing, heart-renewing thoughts of thee,➡ So can the light of thy dear memory, Call up, from out their undiscover'd home, Feelings of pleasure of so glorious dyes, I know they yet will shine in God's own skies. VI. PERHAPS thine absence, as some ocean isle Brightens through distance, sanctifies thy beauty; And my fond heart o'erworships thee the while, Making that love which else were only duty. Wert thou a creature of the world I see, Form'd by its crowds-though frowning on its folly; And flaunting with thy sex,-perhaps to me Thy form might be less fair, thine eye less holy! But as it is,-methinks that I have been Of other nature at that hour we met; And oft my dreams persuade me I have seen An angel who protects my pathway yet ;— Thou dwell'st among my thoughts like something nearer To Heaven than the best,-and than the dearest, dearer! SONG. THE LADYE THAT I LOVE. By Robert Chambers. I. WERE I a doughty cavalier, On fire for high-born dame, To win her smile, with sword and spear, I'd seek a warrior's fame; But since no more stern deeds of blood The gentle fair may move, |