plague was introduced into this house by a piece of finery which the shepherd's wife purchased from a wandering pedlar, and wore for some time upon her head. She was speedily seized with the dreadful distemper, and took to her bed. Some of the children also beginning to feel affected, the shepherd himself went to the nearest farm-house to seek assistance. The inhabitants of this place, alarmed in the highest degree for their own safety, rose in a body, and, instead of attempting to relieve the infected family, spread the intelligence to the neighbours, who, being equally apprehensive with themselves, readily joined them in the dreadful decision, that mercy to individuals should be postponed to a regard for the general health. With this resolution, and disregarding the intreaties of the poor shepherd, they went en masse, and, closing the door upon the unfortunate family, proceeded to throw up earth around and over the cottage, till it was buried at least five feet beneath the surface. All the time of this operation, about half a day, the inmates, aware of their fate, cried dreadfully; and it was not till a large turf had been laid upon the top of the chimney, and a deep stratum of earth deposited over all, that their wailings were heard finally to subside. The shepherd is described as having for some time gone round and round the place like one demented, uttering fearful cries, and invoking Heaven to save his family, till at last, being driven away by the people, he departed from the awful scene in a state of distraction, and was never more heard of or seen in that district. Whether it was customary, in the country, to resort to such cruel, though perhaps justifiable, measures as the above, I am unable to say. But spots almost precisely similar to that in Teviotdale are pointed out as the burial-places of the plague at Nether Minzion, in Tweedsmuir, where the shepherds are scrupulous to prevent their sheep from feeding within the little circle which enclosed the tomb of the plague; and near Prestwick, in Ayrshire, where are also shown the ruins of a house, built by Robert Bruce, for the reception of les pers, still called King Case. In order, moreover, to show that individual suffering was little considered in cases where the public welfare was endangered, it may be mentioned as one of the rules of a leper-house at Greenside, near Edinburgh, that the penalty imposed upon any inmate who should venture out of doors, was no less than death; and that, with a view at once to the prevention of such a misdemeanour, and its prompt punishment, a gallows stood constantly in terrorem at the end of the house. a At Peebles, a place is shown in the neighbourhood of the town where the plague was buried." It is a low mound, like a grave, but much larger, situated in a marshy valley, called the Gytes. Children designate this place Sampson's Grave, probably on account of its appearing to be such a grave as would hold that scriptural hero, whose bulk is popularly supposed in Scotland to have been of a piece with his strength. Besides, however, this place where the plague was buried," corner of the churchyard (the north-east) is also shown as the place where "the people who died of the plague" were interred; and that this was always regarded with the same sort of superstitious horror as that which usually invests unconsecrated places like Sampson's Grave, is proved by the circumstance of this department of the burying-ground not having been opened till within the last twenty years, when, it is said, there were not wanting people who had their apprehensions for the consequences of such a bold measure. There seems to be a sort of contradiction in the traditions of Peebles upon this equivocal point, which may, perhaps, be settled if we can suppose that the churchyard was used on the last occasion of the infection, when people had become enlightened enough to know that the pest, contagious as it was above all other diseases, ran no chance of spreading among, or injuring, the dead; and that Sampson's Grave was the burial-place at a former period, the tradition connected with which survived the latter occasion, unaffected in its more superstitious details. To explain further, it must be understood, that where solitary spots are pointed out as the grave of the plague, an idea seems to obtain that the last infected person or family was buried there, and, like the 'scape-goat sent abroad into the wilderness, took away all danger from the surviving community. Connected with the popular remembrance of the plague at Peebles, a curious circumstance is preserved, which, if others will believe in it as firmly as myself, may go far to settle the long-disputed question among modern physicians,-" Is the plague infectious and communicable by the atmosphere, or contagious, and only to be imparted by the touch?" When the distemper last visited the town, it is said to have extended no farther eastward than the Dean's Gutter, a water-channel which then intersected the High Street, like the celebrated boundary of the Sanctuary at Holyrood. All to the westward of this line was devastated by the awful distemper, while the very first house to the eastward, and all beyond, were perfectly uninfected. This will remind the reader of the infected and uninfected quarters of the Turkish capital, as described in the books of travellers; but whether such measures as those regularly taken in the foreign cities still subject to the plague for the prevention of contagion, were resorted to at Peebles, is not recorded. In the south-east corner of the old churchyard of Burnbank, in Perthshire, lie interred Margaret Drummond, wife of Sir George Muschet of Burnbank, and her three daughters, all of whom, according to a decay. ed inscription on the tombstone, fell victims to the plague, which, in the puritanical language of the period, is there styled, "the Visitation." A tradition of Kincardineshire favours the theory that the plague is popularly believed to have had a bodily form. On the farm of Mondynes, in the parish of For. doun, and at no great distance from the banks of the river Bervie, stands, in the middle of a ploughed field, a large stone, underneath which the plague is said to have been buried. At the last occurrence of the pest in Scotland, say the country people, there dwelt in this district a benevolent warlock, who determined to free his country for ever from the terrible destroyer. By dint of spells, he succeeded in drawing towards him the whole material of the plague, and winding it up round his fingers, as people wind thread. The clew reached the size of a man's head before every particle was collected. When completed, he took it in his hands to the spot mentioned, put it into the earth, and covered it with this large stone. All this was done by spells, the power of which ceased when the stone was laid down so that, according to the popular belief, if that were to be removed, the ball would burst forth, explode, and the plague would again overspread the country. When the plague occurred in Dundee, early in the sixteenth century, all the infected were compelled to retire from the town, and either reside in the suburbs or bivouack in the fields without the walls. A massive fragment of the ancient wall of the town, containing the gateway of what is called the East Port, still remains in one of the streets of Dundee. Upon the top of this, Wishart, the celebrated Reformer, is said to have preached to those infected with the pestilence, who lay upon the ground below. It has survived all the rest of the wall, and was lately repaired at considerable expense, out of reverence for the memory of Wishart. Amidst the ruins of the ancient Collegiate Church of Methvin, in Perthshire, it is popularly believed that a vast treasure lies concealed. This, it is said, would not have been permitted to lie so long, had it not been understood that the plague was also buried in the same place, and would burst out if any excavations were at tempted. Some excavations were once attempted by the country people; but, before they had got many feet beneath the surface, a suspicious-looking vapour arose, and a low terrible voice was heard to vociferate, as from some remote recess of the ground, "Let sleeping dogs lie!" whereupon the shovels and mattocks were instantly abandoned by the adventurers, whose task no one has ever since thought of resuming. At Linlithgow, there is preserved a curious relic of the plague-namely, a coffin or box, which was used in conveying all the persons who died of that distemper to their last abode. It possesses no peculiarity of appearance, except that it seems calculated to contain a body of the largest size, and that the bottom is a lid, moving on hinges, with a pin, which serves by way of lock. The tradition of the town bears that the bodies of the dead were conveyed to their graves successively in this general coffin, and, when brought over the hole, permitted to drop in, by merely withdrawing the pin. This indecorous mode of interment, so opposite to the ordinary customs of the Scottish people, presents us with a dreadful idea of this disorder, and of the hardening effect which its ravages gradually produced upon the feelings and ordinary sympathies of humanity. ("Traditions of the Plague in Edinburgh," in our next.) NATIONAL POETRY-ANECDOTE CONCERNING By Dr Memes, Author of the "Life of Canova," "Siedon le Muse su le tombe, e quando THE expression, National Poetry, is frequently, but without due discrimination, applied to designate the entire poetical literature of a country. The less extended import of the phrase marks that species of descriptive and sentimental poetry which embodies in a lore familiar and dear to a whole people-their peculiar customs, localities, traditions, feelings, emotions, and interests. To compositions of this class, which constitute not the least affecting of those ties that bind man to the soil that gave him birth, it is singular to consider how small a portion of the extant poetry of all ages can rightly be assigned. What is generally termed the National Poetry of Greece, is chiefly historical, or borrowing its incidents from distant tradition; in both instances, indeed, the poet seldom, if ever, travels beyond the interests and connexions of his country; but his scenes and characters are grand abstractions, in which there could rarely have been entertained an intensity of individual fellow ship. Every Greek was taught to venerate his country as the birth-place of unconquered ancestors as the land of genius; but seldom is he called upon to love it as the home of those charities, the sweets of which he himself was actually enjoying. dividually national. But we are not sure that, even in the poetry of England that native land of cherished homes and warm hearts-one entire work, or one writer, could be pointed out, welcome alike, and understood from the cottage to the palace. In contradistinction to this, the allusion we are about to make to Scotland and to Burns must have already been anticipated by the reader. Burns is the poet who, above most others, has succeeded in giving to his countrymen a language and imagery universally felt and appreciated-who has invested, with dignified and attractive influence over the affections, circumstances and characters whose very commonness makes their actual occurrence pass unheeded-preserving still their lowliness, their truth, and their simplicity. In this he has perhaps shown a more exquisite perception of poetic beauty and of natural feeling, than is required to array, in all suitable splendour, the most gorgeous scenes or spirit-stirring events-or even to rise to the highest heaven of invention." On this subject, however, abstract criticism or profound speculation would avail little in illustrating our principles. These are practical and let an example of practical influence tell of the power of the Scottish muse over the movements of the Scottish heart. The following anecdote is related on the faith of one-a soldier and Christian-who witnessed the circumstances, and who now fills a hero's grave. In the grenadier company of a Scottish regiment, forming part of the British army in Spain, were two privates, known among their companions as the "twa friens," from the steadiness of their mutual attachment, and otherwise much respected for propriety of conduct. In one of the last skirmishes which took place among the Lower Pyrenees, when our brave fellows drove their opponents from one intrenched height to another, to the very confine of the "sacred territory," one of the "friens" received a severe wound in the thigh. During the few weeks in which our troops were in cantonments previous to entering France, the wounded of the regiment in question lay in a church, and among them the indivi. dual now mentioned; his friend, in the intervals of duty, most affectionately watching over him. On one occa sion our informer, while visiting and cheering the sick of his own company, finding himself placed within a few feet of their bed, but in a position where he remained unseen, could not forbear stopping to admire the behaviour of the two friends; and, as he confessed, his heart melted, even to tears, on hearing their conversation. "Jamie," said the wounded man, "I feel sae strang the day, that I fain wad hear you read to me."_"I am most willing," replied his companion; "but I fear we can get nae books here, an' it is far to my quarters, and ye ken I dinna like to leave you."-"Look," was the answer, "in my knapsack, there is twa books there the Bible and Burns' poems! If ye read," continued he, looking up to his friend with a grateful smile, “I dinna muckle care which ye get.' But seeing his companion look grave and rather displeased, the patient immediately added-"Oh dinna think, Jamie, I undervalue the word o' truth, or wad compare the divine volume wi' ony human production; but what I mean is, that in my present condition, my mind, when ye read Burns, would be sure to turn upon something gude, for his descriptions are sae clear and sae sweet, that they bring In this particular aspect of the subject, Roman poetry ither days and ither places to mind-my pains are foris still more barren of nationality. Both in Greece and got, my thoughts wander far away, our ain hame Italy, the "rural muse," where her labours were not rises before me, wi' its green knowes, gowans, and glintmerely descriptive,-derived her themes from sources ing burn, and oh, Jamie, I think upon my mither, altogether artificial and unnatural. In all instances, and upon Jeanie, and my heart, a' the same as wi' the poetry was more the acquirement and solace of the Bible, rises to God, through whose kind providence I learned and refined, than the "household words"dope to return, never to leave them nor Scotland mair !!! the people. The soldiers mingled sobs and tears together.-To the reader we leave the inferences. Our limits do not permit us to extend these principles to modern poetry, nor to investigate how far the different nations of Europe are possessed of a poetry truly and in Seneca, De Benefic. 7. WERE one to make choice of a pocket-book of prudential maxims, of every-day use and salutary practicability, for the regulation of life, it should neither be the Enchirdion of Epictetus-nor the poetical precepts of Theognis-nor the Dissertations of Antoninus-nor the Golden Sayings of the Seven Sages of Greece-but the Proverbs of Solomon, the son of David, king of Israel. Familiarized as we are from infancy with this precious manual, seeing it vended at penny-cheapness by itinerant hawkers, and carelessly thumbed at old women's schools by the vulgarest of village children, we little consider that it contains within itself a treasure of wisdom, worthy of the name of the great Oriental prince it bears. It is King Solomon's proudest trophy; it would do honour to the greatest monarch, the greatest philosopher, that ever existed. It comprehends, in compendious space, all the most useful wisdom diffused throughout the voluminous dissertations, and moralities, and maxims of antiquity-the marrow, I may say, of the wisdom of all sages, and of all ages. Its rules for conduct are distinct and intelligible, without any sophistry; its observations on life strikingly just, without any refinements of speculation; its invitations to wis dom attractive, without any aim, artifice, or superficial embellishment. Even the memory, as subsidiary to the judgment, is assisted by the equally balanced and contrasted clauses into which each verse is, like the He brew poetry, for the most part regularly adjusted. So simple are the precepts as to be comprehended even by the child; so profoundly wise, as to command the reverence and sanction of the man of years and experiNor are they addressed to one sect of philosophers, or to one people; they are of universal application, and of immediate, obvious, reference to human conduct and affairs: there is not a day, not an action in our lives, to which they cannot be squared and adapt ed; they are accommodated to every country, every age and stage of life, every profession and class of society, every diversity of civilisation. The king and the beggar, the simplest rustic, the profoundest statesman, may draw from them excellent counsel. And it may with confidence be asserted, that any man that sallies out into the complicated business of life, deeply impressed with the influence of this little volume, and taking its rules for his regulating chart, will conduct himself gracefully in every possible situation, and attain that honour, happiness, and prosperity, which are the necessary fruit of that prudence which it inspires. ence. What a glory is this for the royal sage their author! for him, whose penetrating sagacity detected every winding labyrinth of the heart of man,-who, from the height of his throne, cast his glance downward into the diffusive mass of society that lay beneath him, discrimina. ting all the joys, and wearinesses, and pain, of human existence, and who, as an antidote to its sorrows, and an enlivener to its pleasures, presented us with this inestimable gift, the fruit of his meditations and experience! His personal glory, that of his wealth and his conquests, have disappeared; but the fame of the man "who filled the world with proverbs," is fresh in every land. How much higher a glory is this than that of the multitude of vulgar kings and oppressors! The memorials of Assyrian monarchs, their towers, their walls, gardens, and sepulchres, are extinguished, mould | ered down into the very soil that supported them, having left not a trace;-the monuments of Egyptian ty ranny exist only as immense encumbrances on the earth, testifying to future ages their enormous inutility, and recalling (if they ever recall) the names of their founders only to be execrated as the debasers of the human race to the rank of beasts of burden :-But the name of Solomon shall be ever uttered with admiration and blessing, as that of one who not only ennobled humanity by his splendid personal example, but still continues, by the influence of his heavenly wisdom, to refine, and elevate, and render happy, our nature;-a name imperishable throughout earth and her islands, so long as wisdom is "the principal thing!" THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY. WE mentioned in our last paper, that the Moderator of the Assembly has, for more than fifty years, generally been chosen from that party in the Scottish Church known by the name of the Moderate Party. It will be right to state what may probably be the causes of its almost exclusive possession of the Moderatorship. The truth is, that, if not the most talented, at least the wealthiest, ministers of the kirk attach themselves to the Moderate party; we do not mean those who may have private fortunes, for such ministers are doubtless to be found likewise among the Evangelicals, but those who are in possession of the best benefices. Now, situated as the kirk is,its ministers, neither as a church, nor as individuals, remarkably rich,-nay, the church, as a church, and three-fourths of its ministers, the very reverse,-it is of the utmost consequence to elect an influential minister to the Moderatorship. By many members of the Assembly, the office, which is one of great dignity, would be declined, as it is attended with very considerable expense, which a country minister, with a benefice of from £150 to £250, and with a large fan ily to provide for, could not afford. The Scottish clergy are all too poorly paid for the duties they perform, and are in general very unable to encounter extraneous expenses for the sake of a short-lived honour. All that the Moderator receives to enable him to support his rank, is £100 from the funds of the church, which is nothing at all in comparison with his necessary expenditure during the sit ing of the Assembly. If he be an Edinburgh minister (for the Assembly always meets in the metropolis) it is another thing, as he has his own house, in which he can entertain his brethren; but if not-and it is very rare that he is besides his other expenses, which are by no means trifling, he must live in an hotel; he must pay servants, &c. ; he must give a public breakfast every morning to the fifteen Synods of the Scottish church in rotation; and in short, the £100 from the funds of the church will be found not to clear him one-half, if he supports his station with respectability, as the highest ecclesiastical functionary in the church. This circumstance alone, therefore, would be a strong inducement to elect the Moderator from that party, the ministers of which are generally better beneficed than those of the Evangelical party. It is probably for this reason, together with another we shall mention immediately, that there is seldom a canvass for the Moderator's Chair. The members of the court do not seem to trouble themselves much about it: they know that there must be a Moderator, but they allow the leading members to manage the matter in their own way. Several great men have sat in the Moderator's Chair, and, generally speaking, the court has always shown due discrimination, and a just homage to piety and learning. There is one instance, however, to the contrary, which the Church of Scotland ought unceasingly to regret, and which, we doubt not, many of its ministers do regret, as a most unpardonable neglect of a great man, equally distinguished for his virtues as he was for his high birth, whose name will not soon be forgotten in Scotland, and to whose excellences his venerable friend, himself now also departed, and equally distinguished for his virtues and his high birth, has paid a noble tribute. We allude to Dr John Erskine, whose life has been so ably written by the late Sir Henry Moncrieff. Dr Erskine was brought from a country parish to the Greyfriars Church in Edinburgh, was of ample fortune, and connected with some of the best families in Scotland. He was a man of piety and learning, an admirable preacher, and a sound theologian; he was the correspondent of Warburton, Bishop of Gloucester, the colleague of Dr Robertson, and the leader of the Evangelical party. Yet this great man was refused the only honour which the Kirk of Scotland can confer on its members,—that of being Moderator in the Gene-ed in by mountains, and, in looking upon it, I felt as if ral Assembly. There is an anecdote told by the late venerable Sir H. Moncrieff, in his Life of Dr Erskine, which is not unworthy of being here mentioned. Dr Erskine was once proposed as Moderator, and, strange to say, the votes on both sides of the house were equal. Dr Robertson had the casting vote, and he gave it against Dr Erskine, his reason being, that his vote had been pre-engaged. A certain minister, a member of the court, (we forget his name, as we have not Sir Henry's work beside us,) on being asked by one of his brethren, when he came out of the court, if Dr E. was elected, shrugged up his shoulders, and replied, "Not this man, but Barabbas." came in my way without regard to the standard of utility or the fitness of things. Among the fairest and most curious of the pencilled tribe is the British Dioraina, painted by Roberts and Stanfield, and designed to show the various effects of light and shade. The mechanism by which the pictures are brought before the eye is very ingenious, and the general effect wonderful. There is an astonishing appearance of reality about every scene. Through the windows of a Gothic pile, in which the aspect of the long dreary aisles almost chill the spectator, streams in the actual sunshine, and, after shining upon pavement and pillar, disappears as if intercepted by the dusk wing of a thunder-cloud. One of the pictures represents the entrance to the village of Virex, in Italy. The painting is good, and the subject, to me at least, captivating. The little village is girth. I had been the discoverer of a retreat yet unvisited by sin or sorrow. In the disposition of light, the peculiar witchery of the Diorama is manifested;-the freshness of morning, the warm flush of mid-day, and the imperial purple of the best tints of evening, alternately impart novelty and truth to a scene in perfect harmony with the cherished fantasies of a romantic spirit. A view of the Temple of Apollinopolis in Egypt exhibits the effect of the fierce African sun upon a gigantic mo nument of the stupendous industry of the slaves of the chissel. The gloom of midnight is well imitated in a picture of the City of York, which is injured, however, by an attempt to mimic the firing of the MinBut there is another cause which materially influences stera lure for the herd, one of whom completely the election of a Moderator. The Moderates have overturned my enjoyment of the Diorama. The person been hitherto the leaders in the Assembly, and decided- of whom I speak was a well-dressed caitiff, about the ly exceed the Evangelicals in number; moreover, they age at which thrifty citizens grow rich. The man, I are well supported by the ruling elders, on the votes of have no doubt, was worth a plum. He had the visible three-fourths of whom they can always count. At what characteristics of an adept in securities, home and fotime the Moderates obtained the mastery, it is needless reign, and was accompanied by an unlovely female, to enquire; suffice it to say, that the influence of Prin- gorgeously decorated They placed themselves near cipal Robertson gave that party dignity and consistency; me, while the Egyptian temple displayed its massive and ever since his time, though the party was powerful symmetry in the immediate presence of "the god of in the Assembly many years before, they have retained gladness." I was wandering at that moment within their ascendency. These two parties are, of course, vio-sight of the everlasting pyramids. Suddenly the smoothlently opposed to each other they are like the Tories apparelled caitiff addressed the unlovely female: "Ha!" and Whigs in the House of Commons-the Ultras and said he, gaping at the picture," there's the York Minthe Liberals: nay, on some subjects, the Evangelicals ster, I calculate." More rapidly than the genius of the approximate to the Radicals or Cobbettites,-root-and- lamp ever transported Aladdín, did the villainous ob branc-men,—and, if they may be credited, the General servation of this execrable cockney hurry me from the Assembly has as much need of reformation as the House sublimities of Egypt to the abominations of Cheapside. of Commons. It is said, however, that the Evangelical party is on the increase in the Assembly, and that its adherents will speedily be the majority, and will materially alter the decisions of the court. Of this we have our doubts, for, notwithstanding the undeniable increase of the Evangelicals in the church, we greatly fear that they will never be able to keep their ground in the Assembly. We shall afterwards state the reasons which induce us thus to speak; meanwhile we may observe, that on the vigour of the proceedings of the Assembly at their annual convocation, a good deal depends. The Kirk is surrounded by numerous opponents. The Scottish Episcopal church is now rising with prosperity from her feebleness during the last century; the different sects of the Seceders are becoming every day more numerous; there are hosts of minor sectaries, such as Independents, Methodists, Baptists, Swedenborgians, Unitarians, Glassites, &c. who did not exist in Scotland a century ago, and who are now actuated, especially the Methodists, by the keenest spirit of proselytism. LETTERS FROM LONDON. No. X. I have seldom spent an hour more satisfactory than in inspecting the collection of portraits for Lodge's great work, in the rooms of Messrs Harding and Lepard. They are copies merely, but they are copies of authentic likenesses, by the best masters of English por traiture, and they have been executed so as to abate no jot of the resemblance. The collection contains about two hundred portraits of distinguished characters, whose names emblazon the page of British history during the most interesting epochs between the reign of Henry the Seventh and of George the Third. Of the illustrious array, none so fixed my attention as Graham of Claverhouse. The expression of the face is searching, and the nether lip is curled as in scorn, but there is nothing petty in his proud glance ;-one feels as in the presence of a man elevated by a sense of inborn nobleness, and the impression is confirmed by the shade of lofty melancholy, which gives a touching grace to the patrician features of "bonny Dundee." Sir Walter Scott has depicted him well, if this be a correct resemblance. I entertain a profound veneration for Italian genius, and it is, therefore, with reluctance that I express an unfavourable opinion of Signor Capello and his learned cats. The cats are certainly very comely and docile little quadrupeds, and betake themselves to their allot I HAVE been making a regular tour among the new-ted tasks with the most becoming alacrity; but, in my est sights of the Metropolis, inspecting every one that simple judgment, their dexterity is not worthy of com parison with the tricks of any Savoyard's monkey, or the feats of the many sagacious pigs educated at home. I must admit, however, that the learned cats display considerable tact at knife-grinding. The owl at Waterloo bridge, honourably mentioned in the Library of Entertaining Knowledge, is, I grieve to hear, removed from the scene of his useful labours. I entertained a high respect for the departed, partly on account of his personal merits, and partly from his wonderful resemblance to Lord Chancellor Lyndhurst. In a room in St James' street, there is at present a living phenomenon, who decoyed a matter of four shillings from my unwilling pocket. This prodigy of prodigies is announced as a female with a beard eight inches long, large whiskers and mustachios, aged 26, and a native of Piedmont. I was the sole visitor in the exhibition room, in a corner of which a monstrous dwarfish figure, in a costume of hateful yellow, beckoned me to approach a couch upon which it was perched. I advanced, not without some nervousness, when the odious wretch began to display its attractions, and to expatiate upon them in a vile mountain patois. It doffed its chapeau, and unrolled a long tuft of shining coal-black hair, pointed to its hirsute arms, and horrid grizzly beard, and perked forward its saffron-coloured chin, that I might convince myself tangibly that there was no deception. During these operations, the creature never ceased gibbering its patois. Looking upon its enormous head, which, with the exception of the Tartar lock, was completely bald, and marking the unnatural play of its extravagant mouth, I began to reflect that I, a solitary Christian, might have been wiled by some diabolical agency into a colloquy with one of the infernal imps; so, without fingering the patriarchal ornaments of the living phenomenon, I bolted from the place, and never breathed freely until I reached the Horse Guards. A Mr Thomas Motley has invented a new kind of wrought-iron arch suspension-bridge, of which an inge- | nious model is now exhibited in the Strand. It presents the appearance of a bow and string. A line runs along the top of the bow, parallel to the string, which line is connected with the string by vertical lines. The string of the bow represents the foot and carriage-way, and on the parellel line is raised a floor, with an arcade of shops, which is the great novel feature of the design. A bridge of this kind over the Thames, from Charingcross to King's Arms stairs, is in contemplation. The plan seems peculiarly suited to the erection of ornamental bridges. Another curious piece of mechanism is exhibited by Mr Young, who was sometime back a state prisoner in Portugal. It is a model of the prison of the Inquisition at Coimbra, and presents an appalling picture of the devilish ingenuity exercised by priestcraft and fanaticism for the affliction of mankind. Matthews and Yates have conjointly commenced a spring "At Home" in the Adelphi. The chief performance is from the pun repository of Mr Thomas Hood. It made the folk laugh immoderately, which was the principal object. Matthews gave another story in the character of the old Scotch lady, but I thought it a failure. The best of his new anecdotes is a real adventure the stage-coach near Carlisle, on his last journey from Glasgow to London. He hits off the peculiarities of a Yorkshire farmer, a Glasgow merchant, and a Northumbrian coachman, admirably. He also imitates Mr Brougham very felicitously. On Monday night, Miss Smithson reappeared before an English audience at Covent-Garden Theatre, after a long absence upon the Continent. The house was respectably filled, considering the lateness of the season, and much anxiety was evinced to ascertain whether or not the returning wanderer, by displaying new claims upon public approbation, would justify the unmeasured eulogy of the arbiters of dramatic taste in the lively capital of France. When she made her entry upon the boards, she was greeted with acclamations loud and reiterated. Miss Smithson's figure has gained something in round. ness by her foreign sojourn. Her action is more elegant, and her carriage more easy, than it was previously. With the graces of the French school, she has also acquired some of its defects. Her eye, which is brilliant, and frequently very effectively employed, occasionally plays truant with the business of the scene; and the peculiar turn of expression which pervades her countenance in the enunciation of animated passages would lead me to believe, if I did not know to the contrary, that she was a daughter of Gaul. Miss Smithson's features are regular and pleasing. If I might touch upon so delicate a theme, I would insinuate a doubt that the organ of eloquence was out of proportion large; perhaps to the latitude of a rosebud ere it enters on its teens. Her voice is mellow and of ample volume, and her articulation measured to monotony. Jane Shore was the part selected for her reappearance. The drama is a closet production-poetical, but unimpassioned, and an unsatisfactory touchstone of theatrical ability. Surveying at one glance the picture of the penitent minion of royalty presented by Miss Smithson, the effect was chill, and, as a skilful specimen of art, there was a general want of completeness. She made, however, some excellent points, such as where she rejects the addresses of Lord Hastings, and where, in the presence of Glo'ster, she advocates the rights of King Edward's offspring. Her last scene was managed with much judgment; and she deserves high praise for having throughout, in the face of strong temptations given by the author, and sanctioned by professional precedent, preserved herself almost from an approach to whining or extravagance. During the progress of the piece, and at its conclusion and announcement for repetition, the audience marked their sense of her deserts by thunders of applause. I heard some persons in the box I occupied say, that they preferred her style of acting to that of Miss O'Neil and they compared her directly with Mrs Siddons. For my part, although I consider her superior to her London compeers, I feel incompetent to pronounce a decided opinion, until I see her abilities displayed in a character more in accordance with nature than Rowe's Jane Shore. The Friendship's Offering for 1830 will be larger and more compact in its dimensions than its predecessors. I have seen some of the embellishments, which are beautiful specimens of art. One of them a group listening to a rural politician, dealing forth the contents of a newspaper is by Wilkie, and has the best characteristics of his quaint and graphic pencil. THE DRAMA. THE Benefits are now pouring in upon us, and the with flowers are the meadows of summer, than those monotony of the play-bills is over. Not more prankt small quartos, of one page cach, now are with brilliant and alluring promises. We know of no species of linovels of the De Vere class," personal narratives, terature more varied or more delightful. Fashionable all have become" auto-biographies, sentimental poems, cookery books,But look at the benefit play-bills! weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable.” |