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of a great man, equally distinguished for his virtues as

came in my way without regard to the standard of uti. he was for his high birth, whose name will not soon be lity or the fitness of things. Among the_fairest and forgotten in Scotland, and to whose excellences his ve- most curious of the pencilled tribe is the British Dionerable friend, himself now also departed, and equally rana, painted by Roberts and Stanfield, and designed distinguisbed for his virtues and his high birth, has to show the various effects of light and shade. The paid a noble tribute. We allude to Dr John Erskine, mechanism by which the pictures are brought before the whose life has been so ably written by the late Sir Henry eye is very ingenious, and the general effect wonderful. Moncrieff. Dr Erskine was brought from a country There is an astonishing appearance of reality about parish to the Greyfriars Church in Edinburgh, was of every scene. Through the windows of a Gothic pile, in ample fortune, and connected with some of the best fa- which the aspect of the lag dreary aisles almost chill milies in Scotland. He was a man of piety and learn the spectator, streams in the actual sunshine, and, after ing, an admirable preacher, and a sound theologian; shining upon pavement and pillar, disappears as if in. he was the correspondent of Warburton, Bishop of Glou- tercepted by the dusk wing of a thunder-cloud. One of cester, the colleague of Dr Robertson, and the leader of the pictures represents the entrance to the village of the Evangelical party. Yet this great man was refused Virex, in Italy. The painting is good, and the subject, the only honour which the Kirk of Scotland can confer to me at least, captivating. The little village is girthon 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 I had been the discoverer of a retreat yet uavisited by venerable Sir H. Moncrieff, in his Life of Dr Erskine, sin or sorrow. In the disposition of light, the peculiar which is not unworthy of being here mentioned. Dr witchery of the Diorama is manifested ;-the freshness Erskine was once proposed as Moderator, and, strange to of morning, the warm Alush of mid-day, and the impesay, the votes on both sides of the house were equal. Dr rial purple of the best tints of evening, alternately imRobertson had the casting vote, and he gave it against part novelty and truth to a scene in perfect harmony D. Erskine, his reason being, that his vote had been with the cherished fantasies of a romantic spirit. A pre-engaged. A certain minister, a member of the view of the Temple of Apollinopolis in Egypt exhibits court, (we forget his name, as we have not Sir Henry's the effect of the fierce African sun upon a gigantic mo. work beside us,) on being asked by one of his brethren, nument of the stupendous industry of the slaves of the when he came out of the court, it Dr E. was elected, chissel. The gloom of midnight is well imitated in a shrugged up his shoulders, and replied, “ Not this man, picture of the City of York, which is injured, how. but Barabbas."

ever, by an attempt to mimic the firing of the MinBut there is another cause which materially influences ster-a 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 pluin. 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 :: mes 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 smooth. lently 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 Aladdin, did the villainous obbranc :-men,—and, if they may be credited, the General servation of this execrable cockney hurry me from the

ssembly has as much need of reformation as the House sublimities of Egypt to the abominations of Cheapside. of Commons.

I have seldom spent an hour more satisfactory than It is said, however, that the Evangelical party is on in inspecting the collection of portraits for Lodge's the increase in the Assembly, and that its adherents will great work, in the rooms of Messrs Harding and Le. speedily be the majority, and will materially alter the pard. They are copies merely, but they are copies of decisions of the court. Of this we have our doubts, | authentic likenesses, by the best masters of English por. for, notwithstanding the undeniable increase of the traiture, and they have been executed so as to abate no Evangelicals in the church, we greatly fear that they will jot of the resemblance. The collection contains about never be able to keep their ground in the Assembly. two hundred portraits of distinguished characters, whose We shall afterwards state the reasons which induce us names emblazon the page of British history during the thus to speak; meanwhile we may observe, that on the most interesting epochs between the reign of Henry the vigour of the proceedings of the Assembly at their an- Seventh and of George the Third. Of the illustrious arnual convocation, a good deal depends. The Kirk is ray, none so fixed my attention as Graham of Claversurrounded by numerous opponents. The Scottish Epis- house. The expression of the face is searching, and the copal church is now rising with prosperity from her nether lip is curled as in scorn, but there is nothing feebleness during the last century;

the different sects of petty in his proud glance ;-one feels as in the presence the Seceders are becoming every day more numerous ; l of a man elevated by a sense of inborn nobleness, and there are hosts of minor sectaries, such as Independents, the impression is confirmed by the shade of lofty meMethodists, Baptists, Swedenborgians, Unitarians, Glass- lancholy, which gives a touching grace to the patrician iles, &c. who did not exist in Scotland a century ago, teatures of " bonny Dundee.” Sir Walter Scott has and who are now actuated, especially the Methodists, by depicted him well, if this be a correct resemblance. the keenest spirit of proselytism.

I entertain a profound veneration for Italian genius,

and it is, therefore, with reluctance that I express an LETTERS FROM LONDON.

unfavourable opinion of Signor Capello and his learned No. X.

cats. The cats are certainly very comely and docile

little quadrupeds, and betake themselves to their allotI 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 boards, she was greeted with acclamations loud and feats of the many sagacious pigs educated at home. I reiterated. must admit, however, that the learned cats display con. Miss Smithson's figure has gained something in round. siderable tact at knife-grinding. The owl at Waterloo ness by her foreign sojourn. Her action is more elegant, bridge, honourably mentioned in the Library of Enter and her carriage more easy, than it was previously. taining Knowledge, is, I grieve to hear, removed from With the graces of the French school, she has also acthe scene of his useful labours. I entertained a high quired some of its defects. Her eye, which is brilliant, respect for the departed, partly on account of his personal and frequently very effectively employed, occasionally merits, and partly from his wonderful resemblance to plays truant with the business of the scene; and the Lord Chancellor Lyndhurst.

peculiar turn of expression which pervades her counteIn a room in St James' street, there is at present a nance in the enunciation of animated passages would living phenomenon, who decoyed a matter of four shil. lead me to believe, if I did not know to the contrary, lings from my unwilling pocket. This prodigy of pro- that she was a daughter of Gaul. Miss Smithson's digies is announced as a female with a beard eight inches features are regular and pleasing. If I might touch long, large whiskers and mustachios, aged 26, and a upon so delicate a theme, I would insinuate a doubt native of Piedmont. I was the sole visitor in the exhi. that the organ of eloquence was out of proportion large; bition room, in a corner of which a monstrous dwartish perhaps to the latitude of a rosebud ere it enters on its figure, in a costume of hateful yellow, beckoned me to teens. Her voice is mellow and of ample volume, and approach a couch upon which it was perched. I ad- her articulation measured to monotony. vanced, not without some nervousness, when the odious Jane Shore was the part selected for her reappear. wretch began to display its attractions, and to expatiate ance. The drama is a closet production--poetical, but upon them in a vile mountain patois. It doffed its unimpassioned, and an unsatisfactory touchstone of chapeau, and unrolled a long tuft of shining coal-black theatrical ability. Surveying at one glance the picture hair, pointed to its hirsute arms, and horrid grizzly of the penitent minion of royalty presented by Miss beard, and perked forward its saffron-coloured chin, that Smithson, the effect was chill, and, as a skilful specimen I might conyince myself tangibly that there was no of art, there was a general want of completeness. She deception. During these operations, the creature never made, however, some excellent points, such as where ceased gibbering iis patois. Looking upon its enormous she rejects the addresses of Lord Hastings, and where, head, which, with the exception of the Tartar lock, was in the presence of Glo'ster, she advocates the rights of completely bald, and marking the unnatural play of its King Edward's offspring. Her last scene was managed extravagant mouth, I began to reflect that I, a solitary with much judgment; and she deserves high praise for Christian, might have been wiled by some diabolical having throughout, in the face of strong temptations agency into a colloquy with one of the infernal imps ; so, given by the author, and sanctioned by professional prewithout fingering the patriarchal ornaments of the living cedent, preserved herself almost from an approach to phenomenon, I bolted from the place, and never breath whining or extravagance. During the progress of the ed freely until I reached the Horse Guards.

piece, and at its conclusion and announcement for repeA Mr Thomas Motley has invented a new kind of tition, the audience marked their sense of her deserts by wrought-iron arch suspension-bridge, of whịch an inge- thunders of applause. I heard some persons in the box nious model is now exhibited in the Strand. Ii presents I occupied say, that they preferred her style of acting to the appearance of a bow and string. A line runs along that of Miss O'Neil—and they compared her directly the top of the bow, parallel to the string, which line is with Mrs Siddons. For my part, although I consider connected with the string by vertical lines. The string her superior to her London compeers, I feel incompetent of the bow represents the foot and carriage-way, and to pronounce a decided opinion, until I see her abilities on the parellel line is raised a floor, with an arcade of displayed in a character more in accordance with nature shops, which is the great novel feature of the design. than Rowe's Jane Shore. A bridge of this kind over the Thames, from Charing- The Friendship's Offering for 1830 will be larger and cross to King's Arms stairs, is in contemplation. The more compact in its dimensions than its predecessors. plan seems peculiarly suited to the erection of ornament. I have seen some of the embellishments, which are al bridges. Another curious piece of mechanism is beautiful specimens of art. One of them-a group exhibited by Mr Young, who was sometime back a listening to rural politician, dealing forth the contenis state prisoner in Portugal. It is a model of the prison of a newspaper-is by Wilkie, and has the best characof the Inquisition at Coimbra, and presents an appal. teristics of his quaint and graphic pencil. ling picture of the devilish ingenuity exercised by priestcraft and fanaticism for the affliction of mankind. Matthews and Yates have conjointly commenced a

THE DRAMA. spring “At Home" in the Adelphi. The chief perform

Tue Benefits are now pouring in upon us, and the ance is from the pun repository of Mr Thomas Hood. It made the folk' laugh'immoderately, which was the with flowers are the meadows of summer, than those

monotony of the play-bills is over. Not more prankt principal object. Matthews gave another story in the small quartos, of one page each, now are with brilliant character of the old Scotch lady, but I thought it a failure. The best of his new anecdotes is a real adven. and alluring promises. We know of no species of lifure- the stage-coach near Carlisle, on his last journey novels “ of the De Vere class,” personal narratives,

terature more varied or more delightful. Fashionable from Glasgow to London. He hits off the peculiarities of a Yorkshire farmer, a Glasgow merchant, and a Nor: all have become " weary, stale, fat, and unprofitable.”

auto-biographies, sentimental poems, cookery books, thumbrian coachman, admirably. He also imitates Mr Brougham very felicitously.

But look at the benefit play-bills ! On Monday night, Miss Smithson reappeared before

“ Ever varied, ever new, an English audience at Covent-Garden Theatre, after a

How does the prospect charm the view !" long absence upon the Continent. The house was re- All that is interesting in the dramatic lore of the counspectably filled, considering the lateness of the season, try swims before the eye ; and sterner than the mar. and much anxiety was evinced to ascertain whether or pesia cautés must that nature be who can cast a cold and not the returning wanderer, by displaying new claims repulsive glance on the tempting and insinuating docuupon public approbation, would justify the unmeasured ments put forth by those who“ beg to inform their friends eulogy of the arbiters of dramatic taste in the lively ca- and the public” that something is going to happen on a pital of France. When she made her entry upon the particular evening, which was never surpassed by any

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thing that ever happened before. “ Albeit unused to ruffled or unruffled, plaited or plain, which it would the melting mood," we confess we have a weakness to have been something to have worn but once during a wards benefit play-bills ;-We“ own the soft impeach. | long life, on one's wedding-day, when shall we see all ment.” We have caught ourselves actually stopping be these again ? They were worth a thousand homilies ;”. fore shop-windows to read them. They are an admi. and are they to pass away into the dreary obscurity of rable recreation for a lighter hour. Who prints the private life! For yet a little time we are to have Jones Edinburgh play-bills ? Is it not Mr John Stark ? among us ; let us make much of him. It would be They are admirably executed ; and we would rather be folly to request our readers to go to his benefit, for there the printers of these Fugitive Pieces, than of the Edin- will be no room. burgh Review or the Waverley Novels. There is much On Monday, Mackay prefers his annual claim, and genius in the Saxon capitals,—great talent in the surely he will have that claim allowed.” What! our Bourgeois,--and infinite variety of conception in the Bailie, our Dominie, our John Howison, “ deserted in Brevier. But let us descend from the species to the in. his utmost need !” We know “ auld scotland” belter. dividuals.

She will support her friends to the last, and cheerfully Four benefits have already taken place this season, will she pay five shillings out of her breeches poeket (is that of Mrs Henry Siddons, of Miss Noel, of Mr it a bull ?) on the benefit night of Mackay,_of her own Thorne, and of the Manager. The last was on Tues Mackay, -of Sir Walter Scott's Mackay !-On Tuesday, day; and, as Henry Cockburn says, was a bona fide Mrs Eyre, and on Wednesday, Miss Tunstall, appeal to bumper. Murray was called for when the curtain fell, us. May they both prosper ! We have three heads; and, in returning thanks for the patronage of the even- but we bark with only two of them, and they are sleeping, he said, with truth," I stand before you, after ing at this moment. We say gentle things with the twenty years passed in your service, with the pleasing third.–At this present writing, Denham's benefit has conviction, that so far from having retrograded in your not been announced; but we understand he is to make good opinion, every succeeding year has but added to a bold and spirited attempt on that occasion. He is to the kindness with which you honour me." Let it be play Virginius, and Sir Archy Macsarcasm in Love even so, for the Manager's deserts are great; but let à la Mode." This would draw a house, even though him beware of slumbering on his post. He is going to Denham's merits did not at any rate well deserve the take a trip to London and Paris during the approaching compliment. vacation, and we trust he will pick up something good

Old Cerberus. on his travels, to recreate us with next season.

We have had scarcely enough of stars this winter, or of spi. rited and striking novelties. We have had plenty of small things, but we should have had something more

ORIGINAL POETRY. brilliant and d.cided. Turning from the benefits which are passed, to those

THE INDIAN WIDOW. which are yet to come, the first which arrests our attention is that of Mr Jones, which takes place this even

By Mrs Grant of Laggan. ing. The “ Clandestine Marriage,” The Critic,' and « Paul and Virginia,” are the contents of the bill, Yet think not, kind stranger, my purpose to bend;

The looks speak compassion, thy language a friend, - sterling and judicious selection. But the pleasure we would otherways have in speaking of Mr Jones and Nouraddin's blest spirit awaits me the while, his benefit is dashed with a shade of melancholy, when And hovers around his pale corpse on the pile. we know that he is about to retire from the stage into private life, and that it is to be his last;

He whispers—he calls me he passes like wind,

Oh why should I linger in anguish behind?
" The last ! the last! the last !

Through this desolate earth should I wander alone,
O! by that little word
How many thoughts are stirr'd,

When my light was all quench'd with Nouraddin's last
Companions of the past !”

groan? Jones has all his life devoted himself to comedy, but Beloved and endear'd, in his shadow I dwelt there is little that is comic in the consideration that we

In his tender protection no sorrow I felt; are about to lose a gay and pleasant performer, who As our souls were united, our pleasures the same, walked hand in hand with mirth, and the very sound of So our ashes shall mingle and hallow the flame. whose voice was synonymous with enjoyment. A crowd of recollections come rushing on the heart, and we never Like a vine without prop shall I sink on the ground, suspected that the man was half so dear to us before. It is a solemn thing, the retiring from the stage of a poc While the beasts of the forest shall trample with scorn

And low in the dust spread my tendrils around ? pular actor. It is to all of us the visible pointing of the hand of time at an hour nearer the ninth hour ;-it The plant thus neglected, despised, and forlorn ! is like the tolling of a bell at midnight, startling the dull ear with the knowledge that a day is gone which You tell me my children forsaken will pine,– can never be recalled.

As to the more selfish question (What a wound to a bosom so tender as mine!) of how Jones's place is to be supplied, we shall not enter That their innocent cries shall ascend in the air, upon it at present. But when again shall we see upon And drown, with their clamour, my last dying prayer. our stage an outward man of such Parisian perfection, -when shall we again behold coats cut with a cut like Oh still, my loved babes, ye cling close to my heart; unto his, inexpressibles with so inexpressible an air of But, alas! with your father I never can part ; grace,-waistcoats which tailors went by hundreds to

Yet Bramah, in pity, my truth to reward, the gallery to see

, -neckcloths tied à la næud Gordien Unseen, will permit me my children to guard. in a style that made every puppy in the boxes turn pale with envy,-hats or chapeaus a bras, which must have been produced by the maker in a moment of rarely-oc- Adieu, gentle stranger! Oh linger not here, curring inspiration,-silk handkerchiefs at which mil. Nor force me my triumph to stain with a tear; liners looked and died,boots that out-Duncaned Dun- The flames as they kindle I view with a smile can,-stockings worth their weight in gold, --shirts, How blest when our ashes shall mix on yon pile !

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'Twas the head of a poet! He grew THE IRISH DEATH CHANT.

As the sweet strange flowers of the wilderness grow, By John Malcolm.

In the dropping of nature's dewThe evening sun, o'er the waters wearing,

Unheeded-alone Shed parting smiles from his sinking sphere,

Till his heart had blown Where, wending down the green vales of Erin,

As the sweet strange flowers of the wilderness blow; Slow moved the mourners around the bier ;

Till every thought wore a changeable stain,
From each bereaved and forsaken weeper

Like flower leaves wet in the sunset rain.
Came floating far on the west wind's sigh,
The wail that rose o'er the fair young sleeper,

A proud and a passionate boy was he,
In doleful chorus" Why did ye die !

Like all the children of poetry;

With a haughty look, and a haughty tread, “ Why didst thou fall in thine early blossom

And a something awful about his head; Of womanhood in the sweet May-day?

With wonderful eyes, Had love waxed cold in one trusted bosom,

Full of woe and surprise,
Or Hope's bright fairy dreams filed away?-

Like the eyes of them that can see the dead !
Ah no—thy youth had no grief invaded
No cloud had frown'd o'er thy morning sky-

Looking about,
No vernal bloom from thy spirit faded,

For a moment or two he stood, Nor friendship perished-why did ye die !

On the shore of the mighty wood,

Then ventured out“ With feelings pure and unsered by sorrow,

With a bounding step and a joyful shout! Thy heart's young mate by thy gentle side,

The brave sky bending o'er him!
In thee the dawn of the coming morrow

The broad sea all before him!
Had seen a young and a happy bride ;-
But death's cold shadow hath darkend o'er thee,

When days were bright and when hopes were high ;
And he who loved, can but now deplore thee,

By William Kennedy, Author of Fitful Fancies," And swell thy death-chant-why did ye die !

My Early Days," fc.

O think it not strange that my soul is shaken « Oh, still as twilight's soft star is burning,

By every note of thy simple song; When we at eve from our toil repair,

These tones like a summoning spell awaken (With weary steps to our home returning)

The shades of feelings that slumber'd long : We'll miss thy voice of glad welcome there ;

There's a hawthorn tree near a low-roofd dwelling But oft in dreams its lost music falling

A meadow green and a river clear, Upon our slumber shall seem to sigh,

A bird that its summer-eve tale is telling, Till morn shall break the sweet spell-recalling

And a form unforgotten,—they all are here. Our hearts to sorrow-why did ye die !"

They are here, with dark recollections laden,

From a silvan scene o'er the weary sea;

They speak of the time when I left that maiden
By John Neale, Author of Brother Jonathan," and a

By the spreading boughs of the hawthorn tree. series of Articles on American Writers," in Black

We parted in wrath ;-to her low-roof'd dwelling wood's Magazine.

She turn'd with a step which betray'd her pain; On a blue summer night,

She knew not the love that was fast dispelling
While the stars were asleep,

The gloom of his pride who was hers in vain.
Like gems of the deep,
In their own drowsy light;

We met no more;

and her faith was plighted
While the newly-mowu hay

To one who could not her value know;
On the green earth lay,

The curse which still clings to affections blighted
And all that came near it went scented away,

Tinctured her life-cup with deepest woe.
From a lone woody place,

And these are the thoughts that thy tones awakenThere look'd forth a face,

The shades of feelings which slumber'd long;
With large blue eyes,

Then think it not strange that my soul is shaken
Like the wet, warm skies,

By every note of thy simple song.
Brimful of water and light;

A profusion of hair
Flashing out on the air,

And a forehead alarmingly bright!

By E. B.

The Elf King sat in the greenwood tree, . We doubt whether sufficient justice has hitherto been done in And he was as merry as king could be ; this country to the talents of the author of “ Brother Jonathan."

For well had he quaffed the fairy wine, His book is full of vigour and originality, making you feel at every page that you have to do with one who thinks freely, boldly, That flings over all things a hue divine;and efficaciously. It contains descriptions of scenery, and illus- / The birds made music,—the leaves gave shadetrations of the natural passions of the human heart and soul, wor- And echoes with many a streamlet played, thy of that prodigious continent, whose hills are mountains, and Aud “ Ho!" cried the elf in the greenwood tree whose mountains are immeasurable,—whose streams are rivers,

“ Where is the mortal as happy as we?” and whose rivers are seas,-whose woods are forests, and whose forests are eternal. The verses we have now the pleasure of pre. Then Puck, who loves a prank full well, senting to our readers, do credit even to the novellist.-Ed. Lit. Jour.

Out-sprang he of an acorn shell !

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“ Be merry and drunk,” said he," as you will, Now, I mark the stars relume their lamps; I'll bring you a clown that's merrier still."

And the mountains belted with sinking damps; “ A merrier mortal unless you bring,

And the crescent moon, with a gentle light, Who'll force us to laugh," said the elfin king,

Silver the sable robe of night; “ Until we drop down from this good oak-tree,

And I hear the nightingale's plaintive lay, We'll bury you, Puck, in the Baltic Sea.”

Like the voice of an angel melting away ;Away went the goblin, nor tarried he long ;

But, beautiful though her music be,
But back to the wood with caper and song,

It brings no tidings, my love, of thee !
Through alley and glade both up and down,-
Merrily leads he a staring clown !

Oh! I will lay me down and weep,
Then up he went to him and offered him drink,

As a feverish child that can find no sleep; Nor ever the offer that clown would blink,

For my brow is hot, and my heart is crush'd, But he guzzled till every drop was sped,

And the spirit of life from my blood hath rush'd : And tilted the tankard at Puck's own head!

Little I thought though the pang was sore

That we parted to meet no more no more ! His nose was red as a lobster's claw,

Would that my soul like thine were free,
His shoulder was round as the Misty Law,

For death will bring tidings, my love, of thee!
And his gooseberry eyes on every side,
Squinted and leered like a peacock's in pride;
He romp'd with the fairies,—and flouted their lord,
And cuffed little Puck till the goblin roared,

And the Elf King laugh'd in the greenwood tree,
Till he lost his balance, and down fell he !

It has been proposed to Mr Hogg to take the Editors hip of a Down fell the elf, and down fell his wand,

new ANNUAL for Scotland, similar to those which have been so

fashionable in England of late years. We know of no man whom But soon it was up in the clown's right hand,

the genius of his country would rally round with more willing enAnd aye as each blow on his nut-helmet clatters, thusiasm than the Shepherd ; but we are afraid, that even though “ I'll teach you,” the clown cries, “ to laugh at your bet- the publishers were disposed to be as liberal and spirited as necesters!”

sary, Edinburgh affords much fewer facilities for the execution of And ever as down on the king came his wand,

the ornamental part of the work than the metropolis, and this

would be a considerable drawback. We confess, at the same time, Away went a fairy out of the band,

that we have often wondered why Scotland, rich as she is in taCrying," Lay it on well, and thanks to thee!

lent, should have no Annual of her own, and we should be exFor each blow of his rod sets a poor soul free!"

ceedingly happy to see the experiment made.

We learn with pleasure, and at the same time with regret,

that almost all the Ettrick Shepherd's works are out of print. STANZAS.

He has given to the public fourteen or fifteen volumes of most

amusing Scottish tales, and most of these have gone through By Charles Doyne Sillery, Author of " Vallery ; or

more editions than one. Would not a strictly corrected and rethe Citadel of the Lake.

fined cabinet edition of these tales be a safe and good specula(It gives us pleasure to add Mr Sillery's name to the list of

tion? If published in monthly numbers, neatly embellished, poets whose compositions have already graced our pages, and to

on the plan of the new edition of the Waverley Novels, they promise occasional contributions from his pen. When Abdulkari,

would not fail to accompany them to many a shelf. At all the poet, came to reside in Babylon, the wise men of the city to be found beside each other. The Queen's Wake, too, which has

events, Old Mortality and the Brownie of Bodsbeck ought always wished, if possible, to dissuade him from his purpose. They went to meet him, carrying with them a vessel filled with water, to

gone through seven editions of 1000 copies each, and two of which they directed his attention, in order to show him, that as

1500, has been long out of the market. This surely ought to

be remedied, the vessel was filled with water to the brim, and could contain no more, so was Babylon so filled with poets, that there was no room

We are glad to understand that Mr Alaric Watts, who has lately for him. Abdulkari at once understood this hieroglyphical mode met with a severe domestic affliction in the death of a beautiful of speech, and, stooping down in silence, he picked up a rose-leaf, child, has made considerable progress with the LITERARY Souwhich he laid so gently upon the water, that not a drop overflow. has always been one of the best, if not the best. We have seen a

VENIR for 1830. This was one of the first of the Annuals, and ed. The Babylonians were so delighted with the ingen uity of the poet, that they instantly led him in triumph to the city. We

list of the embellishments of the new volume, which are exceedshall be glad to see Mr Sillery turn out the Abdulkari of the Mo-ingly interesting, and will fully equal those of last year. dern Athens.-Ed. Lit. Jour.]

The Prospectus of a Collection of Ancient Criminal Trials, se

lected from original Records by Robert Pitcairn, W.S., has reI watch'd the moon with a straining eye,

cently been issued, and induces us to look for a very curious and Wither away from the silver sky;

interesting work, illustrative of the history, jurisprudence, litera

ture, institutions, language, manners, customs, and superstitions, I saw the blue of the atmosphere

of Scotland. The only portion of the Books of Adjournal and Laugh into light,-serene and clear ;

other Records of the High Court of Justiciary as yet given to the I mark'd the purple and pink-robed sun,

public, is to be found in the Collections of Abridged Cases, by ArTread out the pale stars one by one ;

not and Maclaurin; but both of these are very imperfect. Mr

Pitcairn's Collection is to be upon a more regular plan, and a But the op'ning day and the crimson'd sea

much more extended scale. He proposes selecting from the earBrought no tidings, my love, of thee !

liest Criminal Records now extant, which relate to the reign

of James IV., and continuing his researches down to the present Then, I saw the sun, from his palace of noon,

day. A striking picture will thus be presented of the most im

portant features of society, progressively delineated through a Feed with pure light the vault of June;

long course of years. The work is to be issued in Parts, and it is I saw the dew which had gemm'd the corn,

to be hoped that they will appear at regular intervals. The price In a mist of gold, on the zephyrs borne;

of each is to be fifteen shillings. I saw the wild flowers steal their dyes

We observe that the Encyclopædia Edinensis is now completed From the blushing cheek of the glowing skies;

in six volumes quarto. We look upon this as one of the most

comprehensive and cheap Encyclopædias which has been offered And I heard the murmur of bird and bee;

to the public. The price (£12) scarcely exceeds the value of the But they brought no tidings, my love, of thee! engravings, which consist of 182 plates by eminent artists.

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