side of the dark pit, which the priests were sanctifying with prayer and incense and holy water, the rosy glow of the setting sun flushed over her face; it was so like the glow of infantile health when in repose, that again I could not understand she was sleeping for ever; but they lowered her into the grave, laid the pillow under her head, placed the cross on her breast, and hid my child from my sight. Even then, so near did my state of mind approach to madness, that, had I not been restrained, I would have torn up the cold earth and the hated boards that concealed her, to attempt, if yet the warmth of a father's embrace-a father's heart-could not recall her to light and life!"

As is jocularly said in the preface to these volumes, many a more unsatisfactory" Budget" than this may be opened, and we therefore recommend it to the attention of all literary diplomatists.

Reasons for the Hope that is in Us. A Series of Essays on the Evidences of Natural and Revealed Religion, the Immortality of the Soul, and other Important Subjects, adapted to the Understanding of Young Persons. By Robert Ainslie, W. S. Edinburgh: Henry Constable. London: Hurst, Chance, and Co. 1831.

Its

The

THIS is a good book in every sense of the word. design is excellent-its spirit is amiable-its subject is important-its execution is successful,-the reasons are sufficing-they change the hope into certainty. author has convinced us that there is a contagion of good, as well as an epidemic of evil. The collision into which his enquiries have brought him with the mighty theme of his work, has made him imbibe the spirit of those important truths which it is the object of his labours to illustrate and establish. His treatise emulates that simplicity which is the great exponent of truth, and which forms so prominent a feature in the aspect of the sacred volume, of whose divine inspiration he is so able an assertor. The work is a popular exposition of the evidences of religion; and we have no doubt that the demand for a second edition will show that it is popular in another sense. It makes no pretensions to oracular wisdom-no assumption of metaphysical profundity-no arrogation of extraordinary originality; but it is learned, without being pedantic-solid, without being tedious discursive, without being impertinent-various, without being irrelative. It will not lay the grim and perturbed spirit of unbelief, but it will convince the impartial, satisfy the rational, and fortify the humble Christian in cherishing the "hope that is in him." It is particularly addressed to the young; but it is not unworthy the attention of the old. It is, indeed, that "gift of a father to his children," which forms the best and dearest token of genuine affection. It displays an anxiety for their eternal welfare, and points their attention to those objects by whose contemplation they will not only be prepared for another world, but become better adapted for being ornaments to this. It is strictly a book of evidence—sifted by a lawyer who cross-examines his whole subject with a degree of severity which is alike distant from professional bigotry, and blind intolerance of opposite opinions. He tries the cause of Infidelity versus Christianity, like an upright and impartial judge-anxious only for justice -solicitous to afford the litigants a fair hearing-and charging the public to return their verdict, not according to their mere feelings, but to the evidence laid before them.

The arrangement of his subject does the highest credit to the author. It is natural, judicious, and logical. By a treatise on the theory of natural religion, he irresistibly leads the mind to the reasonableness of revelation. After

demonstrating the evidences of that faith which brought immortality to light, he most felicitously illustrates the corroboration which this sublime doctrine receives from an examination of the nature of the soul itself. Perhaps the most original and happy idea which adorns his work,

however, is contained in the fourth essay, which consists
of an "Enlightened Heathen's supposed reflections in
Judea in the time of Christ." It has afforded him an
opportunity of putting the question of the Truth of
The arguments on both
Christianity fairly at issue.
sides are suggested with the utmost candour, and with
great force and spirit; and the conclusion to which he
brings the mind, is legitimate and irresistible. The
essay, which will, perhaps, be read with most interest, is
the last, on the "Improvement of Mankind through
Christianity." It displays great learning, anxious re-
search, and consummate skill in the application of exten-
sive knowledge. It is a direct appeal to facts, and dis-
plays a just neglect of more abstract theory. It is pecu-
liarly entertaining, as well as deeply instructive. The
appendix of Scripture readings is judiciously selected, and
highly useful. They give an excellent systematic and
condensed view of the Scriptures. We are sorry that
want of room forbids us to give extracts, and yet, in one
view, this is perhaps fortunate for the author. He has
treated his subject so logically, and given it in a view so
connected, that an extract would hardly be intelligible
without making it of an entire essay. We need not,
however, say how earnestly we recommend the work to
all those (and we hope they are not a few) who repeat
the injunction of the Apostle, to " be ready to give to any
that shall ask, a reason for the hope that is in them.”

Fitz-Raymond; or, The Rambler on the Rhine: A Metrico-Political Sketch of Past and Present Times, written during an Excursion in 1830. By Caledonnicus. 8vo. Pp. 200. Edinburgh: Adam Black, London: Longman and Co. 1831.

THIS is the metrical diary of a gentleman and scholar, kept during a summer excursion up the Rhine in 1830.

The author starts from Rotterdam, on board the steamboat, moralizes in an amiable strain on the affairs of Europe, as he sails past Dordrecht, Nimuegen, and Dusseldorf, to Cologne. He conducts us through the magnificent architectural relics of that city; then, at the request of a fair companion, weaves into song some legends of the Rhine, and here breaks off abruptly. The patriot

ism of the author is as fervent as his fine moral sense.

Courtship A-la-Mode. A Comedy. In Three Acts.
Translated from the French by Gilbert Bethune, Esq.
Edinburgh. Printed for the Author. 1831.

THIS Comedy, we learn, had a run in Paris of upwards
of sixty nights. This will scarcely be believed by the
mere English reader, so little of wit, spirit, or stage effect
appears in the translation. This, however, is owing to
no fault in the translator. The interest of the piece
hinges upon those sentiments of repulsion between the
old noblesse and the roturiers, which still continue to
agitate the Parisians, if no longer in political, yet in
social arrangements.
Every person runs (even with
ourselves) to see the portraits of himself and friends in
an exhibition, although the counterfeits should be as dull
and homely as the amiable originals.

indeed overshadowed the institutions of empires for ages. We know him to be every way qualified for the task, and owe him this ready acknowledgment of his abilities, as some small reparation for the anxiety our thoughtless boyhood often occasioned him, in the careful and conscientious discharge of his magisterial functions. Mr Thomson is one of the many excellent scholars scattered through the land, whose merits are unknown, merely because they were never fortunate enough to find a proper field for their display.

MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE.

TRADITIONS OF ITALY.
No. II.

Our last specimen of Italian tradition was rather of the Raw-head and Bloody Bones order; because we wished to show our readers that spectral terrors formed pretty much the same important element in the popular fictions of that country, as of all others. In a future number we shall make some extracts from the only two collections of Italian tales which can be considered as of any importance in the history of popular fiction: The Notte Piacevole of Straparala, and the Pentamerone of Giambattista Basili; to which, unconscious as we may be of the obligation, we are indebted for the interesting histories of Fortunio, Puss in Boots, Cinderella, and many others of our nursery acquaintances. It is true, they reach us only through the medium of Perrault, Madame D'Aulnoy, and the other laborious and deserving redacteurs of the Cabinet de Fées; but these were the sources from which that miscellany was principally compiled; and both writers, Straparala and Basili, assert, and apparently with truth, that their tales were written down from the verbal narration of the peasantry. Before proceeding, however, to these collections, we may throw together a few of the scattered traditions connected with particular districts or scenes in Italy. The reader who has dabbled a little in popular lore, will at once perceive their resemblance to those fictions with which we are familiar in our own country.

THE FRIEST BURIED ALIVE.

An avaricious priest of Milan used to overcharge the people very much for burying their dead. The Duke of Milan happened, in riding by, to observe a woman standing before her door, wringing her hands, and in tears; and enquired what was the cause of her distress. The woman said her husband was dead, and the priest would not bury him without a large sum of money; and although she had offered her house for sale, in order to raise the sum, nobody would buy it, and, in the meantime, the dead body was mouldering before her eyes.

The duke immediately dispatched a message to the priest, ordering him to bury the body, and assuring him he should have his proper reward; and, at the same time, he gave instructions to the grave-digger, to make the grave wide and deep. The priest immediately made preparations for a sumptuous funeral, set the bells a-ringing, and expected to be most handsomely rewarded for his zeal. No sooner, however, was the coffin lowered, than the duke, who was present, ordered the greedy priest to be thrown after it into the grave and covered with earth, and presented the poor widow with his fortune.

THE UNDINE.

she followed; at last he laid hold of her by her long
streaming hair, held her fast, pulled her to the shore, and
As she
asked her who she was, and whence she came.
made no answer, he covered her with his cloak, and con-
ducted her to his house. Here the nobleman made every
effort to induce her to speak, but in vain ;-suppressed
sighs, tender imploring glances, and a pressure of the
hands, were the only answers she made to his questions.
He took her to wife, and lived with her a long time hap-
pily, till one of his servants unfortunately suggested to
him that his wife was an evil spirit, a mermaid, who in-
tended to destroy him. Irritated by this thought, he
went to her, taking with him her little child, and swore,
that if she did not immediately declare her name and her
descent, he would put the child to death before her eyes.
Agitated beyond measure, after attempting in every way
to calm her husband's rage, but in vain, she spoke thus,
with a melancholy voice:-" Alas! now that I must
I am of the race of
speak, our happiness is at an end.
the water nymphs, who love the depths of the sea; but
now I can love you no longer, and live with you no more,
but must leave you even this hour." She threw her arms
about his neck, kissed him, and vanished, never again to
And when the child was grown up, and was
return.
walking one day on the sea-shore, his mother suddenly
rose from the waves, pulled him in with a strong arm,
and sunk with him to the bottom.

POPE SYLVESTER THE MAGICIAN.

When Pope Gregory V. died in 998, the Romans announced his death to the Emperor Otho, and desired Gerhard, Archbishop of him to elect another pope. Ravenna, was chosen to that dignity, and took the name of Sylvester II.

Sylvester had been a monk in the Abbey of Orleans, in France, from which he had removed to a Spanish university, where he became a proficient in magic, and entered into a compact with the devil, that he would be his property, provided he would raise him to high honours on earth. He laboured hard to get hold of his master's magic book, (from which his lessons in the black art had been delivered,) and succeeded by means of his daughter, No sooner whose affections he had contrived to engage.

The

had he got hold of the volume, than he determined to
make off with it; and accordingly he told the devil, that
if he would carry him safe and sound to France, he
would be his, body and soul, some years sooner.
devil carried him thither immediately; and there, by
means of his arts, he succeeded in ingratiating himself
with the Emperor Otho and King Rupert, and at last
in being appointed to the popedom. This pope had a
small copper head concealed in his chamber; one day, he
addressed the head, and asked it how long he should live
and enjoy the popedom. The devil answered through
the head, that he should not die till he had read mass in
Jerusalem. Thereat the pope was rejoiced, thinking
that he would take very good care not to go near Jeru-
salem. There happened, however, to be a church in
Rome, where the pope was required to perform mass at
certain periods. While he was one day in that church,
and performing mass, he was seized with a violent fever.
He immediately recollected the name of the church, sent
for the chief priests, complained bitterly of the devil for
having deceived him, and directed them, since he must
die, to have his tongue, hands, and feet, cut off, and his
body placed upon a car, then to leave the horses who
drew it to go where they would, and to bury him where
they should stop. Shortly after he died in great agony,
and the horses carried his body to the church of St John,
where he was buried, in 1003.

During the time of King Roger of Sicily, a nobleman of Sicily went to bathe in the sea, by moonlight, near Messina. While bathing, he observed near him a water maiden, of a beautiful appearance, who was singing and This ruse of the devil as to Jerusalem, resembles the floating over the waves. Wherever he attempted to turn, concluding incident of Shakspeare's Henry IV. (Part I.

Act IV.) as to whose death a similar prophecy appears he had frequent opportunities of meeting with her. He to have been in circulation.

THERE is no more delicate step in life than the operation designated by the elegant phrase I have selected for the title of my present lucubration. Much winding and caution, and previous sounding, is necessary when you have got a favour to ask of a great man. It is ten chances to one that he takes it into his head to consider your request exorbitant, and to make this the pretext for shaking off what he naturally considers a cumbersome appendage to his state-a man who has a claim upon his good offices. But this hazard is nothing in comparison with the risk you run in laying yourself at the mercy of a young gipsy, fonder of fun and frolic than any thing in life. Even though she love you with the whole of her little heart, she possesses a flow of spirits, and woman's ready knack of preserving appearances; and though her bosom may heave responsive to your stammering tale, she will lure you on with kind complacent looks, until you have told " your pitiful story," and then laugh in your face for your pains.

gazed and sighed incessantly-a very Dumbiedikes, but
that he had a larger allowance of brain; he followed
everywhere; he felt jealous, uncomfortable, savage, if she
looked even civilly at another; and yet, notwithstanding
his stoutest resolutions-notwithstanding the encourage-
ment afforded him by the lady, a woman of sense, who
saw what his lordship would be at, esteemed his cha-
racter, was superior to girlish affectation, and made every
advance consistent with womanly delicacy-the winter
was fast fading into spring, and he had not yet got his
mouth opened. Mamma at last lost all patience; and one
day, when his lordship was taking his usual lounge in
the drawingroom, silent, or uttering an occasional mo-
nosyllable, the good lady abruptly left the room, and
locked the pair in alone. When his lordship, on assaying
to take his leave, discovered the predicament in which he
stood, a desperate fit of resolution seized him. Miss
sat bending most assiduously over her needle, a deep
blush on her cheek. His lordship advanced towards her,
but, losing heart by the way, passed on in silence to the
other end of the room. He returned to the charge, but
again without effect. At last, nerving himself like one
about to spring a powder-mine, he stopped short before
her-" Miss
will you marry me?"" With the
greatest pleasure, my lord," was the answer, given in a
low, somewhat timid, but unfaltering voice, while a
deeper crimson suffused the face of the speaker. And a
right good wife she made to him.

Some gentlemen, equally nervous, and unaided by such a discriminating and ingenious mamma, have recourse to the plan of wooing by proxy. This is a system which I can by no means recommend. If a male agent be employed, there is great danger, that, before he is aware, he begins to plead for himself. Talking of love, even in the abstract, with a woman, is a ticklish matter. Emotions are awakened, which we thought were lulled to sleep for ever, and we grow desirous to appropriate to ourselves the pretty sentiments which she so well expresses. A female go-between is less dangerous; but I cannot conceive with what face a man can ever address a woman as his wife whom he had not courage to woo for himself.

Day, the philosopher, had a freak of educating a wife for himself. He got two orphan girls intrusted to his care, on entering into recognizances to educate and provide for them. One proved too mulish to make any thing of. The other grew up every thing he could have wished. And yet he gave up the idea of marrying her, because she one day purchased a handkerchief more gaudy than accorded with his philosophical notions. Of course, it never came to a declaration. I wish it had, that one might have seen with what degree of grace a man could divest himself of the grave and commanding characters of papa and pedagogue, to assume the supple, insinuating deportment of the lover.

It is not this either that I meant to express. Men are not cowards because they see distinctly the danger that lies before them. When a person has coolness sufficient to appreciate its full extent, he has in general either self-possession enough to back out of the scrape, or, if it is inevitable, to march with due resignation to meet his fate. In like manner, it is not that poor Pillgarlick, the lover, has a clear notion (persons in his condition are rarely troubled with clear notions) of what awaits him, but he feels a kind of choking about the neck of his heart, a hang-dog inclination to go backwards instead of forwards, a check, a sudden stop in all his functions. He knows not how to look, or what to say. His fine plan, arranged with so much happy enthusiasm, when sitting alone in his arm-chair, after a good dinner, and two or three glasses of wine, in the uncertain glimmering of twilight, with his feet upon the fender, proves quite impracticable. Either it has escaped his memory altogether, or the conversation perversely takes a turn There are a set of men, whose success in wooing-and totally different from that by which he hoped to lead the it is unfailing-I cannot comprehend. Grave, ema fair one from indifferent topics to thoughts of a tenderer ciated, sallow divines, who never look the person in the complexion, and thus, by fine degrees, (he watching, all face whom they address-who never speak above their the time, how she was affected, in order to be sure of his breath-who sit on the uttermost edge of their chairs, a full bottom, before he makes the plunge,) to insinuate his con-yard distant from the dinner-table. I have never known fession, just at the moment that he knows it will be well one of these scarecrows fail in getting a good and a rich wife. How it is, Heaven knows! Can it be that the ladies ask them?

received.

The desperate struggles and flounderings by which some endeavour to get out of their embarrassment are One thing is certain, that I myself have never been amusing enough. We remember to have been much de- able to " pop the question." Like the inspired writer, lighted the first time we heard the history of the wooing among the things beyond the reach of my intellect, is of a noble lord, now no more, narrated. His lordship" the way of a man with a maid." By what witchery was a man of talents and enterprise, of stainless pedigree, he should ever be able to induce her, "her free unhoused and a fair rent-roll, but the veriest slave of bashfulness. condition" to "bring into circumscription and confine," Like all timid and quiet men, he was very susceptible and is to me a mystery. Had it been otherwise, I should very constant, as long as he was in the habit of seeing the not have been at this time the lonely inmate of a dull object of his affections daily. He chanced, at the begin-house-one who can scarcely claim kindred with any ning of an Edinburgh winter, to lose his heart to Miss human being-in short, ; and as their families were in habits of intimacy,

AN OLD BACHELOR.

MAGGIE ROUAT.

A TRAGEDY. IN THREE PARTS.

PART III.

by degrees gained her confidence; she soon not only received her visitors without fear or dislike, but became familiar with all in the village, to which she regularly repaired for such provisions as she required. Nor was she altogether an encumbrance; for the herd-boy by whom she was discovered, being soon after put to other employment, Margaret creditably supplied his place.

AMONG Some sand-hills on the coast of Bute, and behind the same fishertown where John Rouat and his Margaret, or as she was now called, " Maggie Rouat," family once resided, stands a dingy hut, invisible till lived in this state of solitude many years. Through all closely approached. It is remote from any other dwellseasons she was the same cheerful and simple creature ; as ing, and has an air of utter comfortlessness, being partly far as devotion could be exercised by an understanding so Her sinfallen to decay, without even a footpath to its entrance, frail, she was strictly observant of its duties. and girdled in by a low broken fence of ragged whinstone. gular mode of life attracted the notice of strangers resortOne-half is in ruins, the other consists of a single aparting to the village as a watering-place, and from them she ment, with one small shapeless aperture for a window. The interior is as miserable as the outside denotes. A narrow passage leads to the door-way of the apartment -a heap of ashes in the centre of the earthen floor show where a fire has been, the smoke of which, long undisturbed by any outlet, has encrusted the clumsy rafters and thatch of the roof with soot and tar. A press and sliding-door contained, at the time to which our tale now adverts, a bed and bedclothes, in wretched condition; and on one side lay a strong sea-chest, which, with a few dishes and one or two other paltry articles, made up the furniture. Here, fearless alike in the gloom of winter, and in the longest and brightest days, dwelt Maggie Rouat, not wretched, though amid utter loneliness.

It was the evening of a summer's day, and everything looked calm and sweet. The children sported on the village road-old men sat or stood at their thresholds, mending their nets and lines, while one read aloud some well-thumbed newspaper to greedy auditors; and housewives talked together of all but their own affairs. Margaret moved past them; and years and suffering had wrought such a change, that she was unrecognised by those who had been her associates. With that extreme timidity which the indistinct notion of her sorrows shed over a disordered imagination, she shrunk from contact with any one. In her progress, a low-roofed building, having a stone bench near its entrance, and on either side a small window, arrested her glance; she looked intently on its tiled roof and whitened walls; a crowd of strange thoughts crossed her brain. A young woman stood in the door-way, fondling her infant. Poor Margaret still anxiously gazed, and repeatedly raised her hand to her brow, as if to clear the confusion there. In that moment, she half-remembered the scenes and happiness of former days, when the habitation now before her was hers the children began idly to collect around her—she The urchins burst into tears, and hastened on her way. followed and mocked at her, till night gradually coming on, her thoughtless persecutors dropped behind.

All that night she wandered among the hills,-when early day dawned, the miserable hut above noticed appeared within a short distance of where she stood.

It

was even then untenanted and ruinous. Cautiously venturing in, she lay down upon the earthen floor, athirst, hungry, and worn with fatigue. Nature was wearied, and she fell into profound sleep. Chance led a herd-boy to the hut, who, finding a human being motionless in such a wretched place, and at such an hour, fled to communicate his fears. The place was soon visited by several persons, who, perceiving that she only slept, gently awoke her. Many questions were put; and, notwithstanding the incoherency of her replies, and her altered appearance, they discovered in the unhappy being they had found, their former afflicted neighbour and compa

nion.

When the circumstance became generally known in the village, all hearts were moved with pity-the men willingly lent their aid to patch up the miserable hovel, (from which no persuasion could induce her to remove,) and each family contributed something, till Margaret's new dwelling was rendered at least habitable. Kindness

|

usually received some small pecuniary gift, which, with anxious care, she put together in the old sea-chest. Ere long, she enjoyed a plurality of offices, being on the sudden demise of the former official, appointed to ring the parish-kirk bell on Sundays; and this yielded her another source of revenue.

Maggie hoarded up her wealth with the most scrupulous exactness, from some indistinct notion, perhaps, of providing against a day when she could no longer watch upon the hills, or attend to her duty at the kirk-door; or, probably, from a half-consciousness of that curious pride, under the influence of which, many of the Scottish poor will forego the comforts, the very necessaries of life, in order to save a sum sufficient for a "dacent” burial. But the plunderer spared not even the scanty store of one so helpless;-poor Maggie, on her return from the kirk one day, found the bottom forced from her box, and her whole riches gone. She wept childlike for her loss, and did not long survive it.

It was her custom to descend to the village on the evenings of stated days twice in the week. Shortly after the occurrence just mentioned, both these days passed without her appearing. Her absence for so long a period was quite unprecedented, and on the evening of the next day, two persons sauntered up to her dwelling to ascertain its cause. No smoke issued from the roof, and the door was half open; within, all was still, and apparently deserted. Near the bed-press stood a wooden tripod supporting one stale crust of bread, and on the ground lay the fragments of a jug, broken, perhaps, in the last effort to appease a burning thirst. They approached the rude pallet-there lay the poor solitary, stretched out and distorted, but now free from suffering and sorrow.

By the Rev. Hamilton Buchanan.

Nor always in the poet's page we find

A faithful picture of the poet's heart:
Sometimes he acts but the observer's part,
And draws not from himself, but from mankind.
Not so with thee-Delighted, here I trace

The flash of wit-the starts of fancy wild,
With which, of yore, in sportive playfulness,
Summer and Winter hours thou hast beguiled.
Still more delighted, trace in every page

The generous feelings of my early friend—
Where stainless honour and reflection sage,
With genius' dazzling light harmonious blend.
Oft as I turn these faithful pages o'er,

I love thee better still, and still admire thee more!

LITERARY CHIT-CHAT AND VARIETIES.

THE Lives of Scottish Worthies will form the subject of No. XXII. of the Family Library,

Sir Henry Halford has prepared for the press the Essays, &c., read by him to the College of Physicians; and has added thereto an account of the opening of the tomb of Charles L., at which he

assisted.

Family Dramatists, No. IV., Eschylus, with Flaxman's designs, carefully engraved by Finden, is just ready. Ford will follow.

In the press, a new History and Description of the Town of Woburn, its Abbey and Vicinity. A Biography of the Russell Family; and a Guide to Woburn Abbey, with an account of the Paintings, Sculptures, and Conservatories. By J. D. Parry, M. A. FINE ARTS.-The Exhibition of the Royal Academy is now open. It is said to be unwontedly strong in sculpture.-The exhibition of water-colour drawings opened on the same day. The paintings are on a larger scale than was customary in former exhibitions; and a greater number of artists have come forward.-There is an excellent article on Turner in a late Number of the Athenæum. In the exhibition of the works of foreign and Italian artists, at Rome, the French and English schools have this year decidedly the ascendency. The native artists hold back most unaccountably. Report speaks highly of " The Judgment of Socrates," by a young English artist of the name of Salter. This work has gained for its painter the distinguished honour of being elected a Professore della prima classe of the Academy at Florence.-At home here, Allan has made a masterly sketch of Hal of the Wynd sleeping, while Catherine advances to give him the Valentine kiss.-John Syme is painting the Solicitor-General-an excellent likeness; and has painted Dr Inglis-a masterpiece of portrait painting. PROJECTED SCIENTIFIC MEETING AT YORK.-Arrangements are now making for holding a meeting of cultivators of science from every part of the British islands, at York, in July or August next. The sittings will continue for a week. The Lord Mayor and authorities have offered to charge themselves with any preliminary arrangements which may be necessary. Scientific individuals who propose to attend, or to become members of the Association, are requested to communicate their intention to John Robison, Esq., Secretary to the Royal Society of Edinburgh.

POPULAR LECTURES.-On Saturday last, Dr David Boswell Reid delivered the last of his Popular Lectures on Chemistry, in the George Street Assembly Rooms. The subject of the day's lecture was Galvanism. At the conclusion of it, the Rev. E. B. Ramsay, of St John's, in the name of the ladies and gentlemen attending the lectures, presented Dr Reid with a handsome silver salver, bearing a richly chased coffee service of the same metal, as a token of their estimation of the excellent manner in which the course of lectures had been conducted. The rev. gentleman eulogized Dr Reid on his success, and the great delight which all had experienced from attending the course. Dr Reid is an excellent chemist, and a most successful experimenter, and delivers his lectures in a very distinct and intelligible manner. We hope that he will again gratify his townsmen by delivering another popular course. We learn that Mr Cheek has found it impossible to carry out the necessary arrangements for his proposed course of lectures before next winter. A slight inaccuracy has crept into our announcement of Mr C.'s projected course. It is his intention to read on Comparative Anatomy. The error arose from some confusion on the part of our collaborateur who furnished the paragraph, arising from his having heard that Mr C. intended to open practical rooms for comparative anatomy, for the use of such gentlemen as might wish to master the science entirely.

last year was twenty-four feet high; this is some feet lower. The umble is about two feet diameter, and carries nearly one hundred flowers, about the size of an orange lily, which they very much flower is filled with a honied liquid. The anthers are covered resemble, only the petals are of a pink colour, and the cell of each with a light green pollen-the plant is one of the most majestic of our exotic productions, and its successful treatment reflects great credit on Mr Henderson's talents as a horticulturist.

THE UPHOLSTERER SCHOOL OF POETRY.

LINES ON WINDERMERE.

Here lies great Windermere, in princely state,
With mountain basis for its royal bed;
Their variegated sides form curtains great;

And splendid sky 's the canopy o'er head.
Grand furniture, beyond the reach of man!
'Tis Nature's self-the workmanship Divine!
The living landscapes, numberless and grand,
Peep out (as you advance) on every hand.

Not Greece, nor Rome, these northern lakes outvie,
For mountain prospects we them both defy;
And now invite the noble tourist down,

To take this splendid walk, and feast thereon.
CHIT-CHAT FROM Glasgow,-Our Dunlop Street Theatre is at
present filled every night; the attractions are, Miss Jarman and
"The Bailie." The lady is becoming a great favourite here,
though the style and quality of her excellencies are of a kind that
win their way too slowly with us. She is too refined, elegant,
and chaste, to command vulgar applause by a coup-de-main.
Seymour and Young, too, make an appeal in the way of a benefit,
which is likely to meet with a hearty response.-We are pre-
digiously proud of the admirable way in which our congregated
mass of a quarter of a million of human beings behaved themselves
on Monday, as well we may. Show me any other city in the
world, where the same number of people would have assembled
on any occasion, and not one case have occurred which called for
the intervention of the police! The spectacle the assembled
throng presented on our Green was morally as well as physically
sublime. Talk of the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and the proudest
displays of chivalry forsooth! When had these four hundred flags
and banners of great beauty, flaunting in the sun, and fifty thou
sand bold and true-hearted men beneath them, to show as we had
on Monday? But I must curb my pen and come to gentler themes.
A Society Volume of Melody and Poesy has appeared with us,
I may whisper to you, that it is from the pen of Mr R. J. M'George,
although it appears anonymously, and that it is already on the
pianos of all the finest women of the West-rather an enviable
distinction that!--and it deserves it.

Theatrical Gossip.-Signor and Signora Rubini have made their first appearance before an English audience at the King's Theatre, in "Il Pirata." The signor is esteemed one of the best tenors and purest singers of Italy. The signora is a French woman, of scarcely more than mediocre talent. She is reckoned a tolerable Rosina. Knowles" "Alfred," as the reader will see in our review of that play, has been completely and deservedly successful. Some of the London critics seek to insinuate that the author has con. descended to clap-traps based on the popularity of the king. Un fortunately for these wiseacres, the passages in question were com posed long before his majesty's accession. As friends of Mr Knowles, however, we rejoice that the chapter of accidents has effected for him what his proud spirit would never have stooped to solicit. The success of " Alfred" makes us regret more than ever that we are not PORTRAIT OF SIR DAVID BAIRD.-Mr Alexander Hill, in Prince's to have a visit from Macready this year-Don T. de Trueba's co Street, has obligingly sent us a sight of a proof print of Hod-medy has been brought out at Covent Garden. It is called "The getts' engraving from Raeburn's picture of Sir David Baird. We do not remember to have seen anywhere such a masterly piece of mezzotint. It is Raeburn all over. The bold firm attitude of the gallant warrior-the fire of his charger, are given in a manner that shows the engraver has entered with a kindred soul into the feelings of the painter. Raeburn's broad, massive lights and shadows are there as in his picture. The print is the painting itself in every thing but colour-and as we at present write with the work placed at a convenient distance, we cannot persuade ourselves that colour would be any addition. Sir David positively stands out in a round embodied form. We did not think it in the power of any professor of the art to have produced such a power. ful work by unaided mezzotint. This engraving will place Hodgetts, in the eyes of the world, where he has long stood in ours at the very head of his profession. Edinburgh has good reason to be proud of her engravers. Burnet, Stewart, Miller, Horsburgh, and Hodgetts, are her own.

DORYANTHES EXCELSA.-This rare and majestic plant is at present in blossom at Woodhall Gardens, the property of W. F. Campbell, Esq., M.P. It is the third that Mr Henderson has succeeded in flowering-we know of no other successful attempt save that of Mr Cunningham of Comely Bank, near Edinburgh. It is of the Hexandria monogynia order, and rises to an immense height, upon a stem of about eight inches diameter. The plant of

Exquisites." Its reception seems to have been of a dubious cha racter. There has been a strike on the part of the performers at both of the great theatres, on account of a resolve of the lessees to perform only on alternate evenings, but the theatrical ministry have abandoned their system of policy as the Duke of Wellington abandoned his opposition to Catholic Emancipation because they could not help it: and every thing is going on as smoothly as cali be expected in establishments that don't pay.-It appears from a list of the dramatic pieces played at Paris during the two last years, that no less than 3558 have been performed.-From Glasgow we learn that Alexander's house, which was pretty before, has been made larger, and mightily improved. Seymour has made his snug and neat.-There is at present an entire cessation from theatrical labours here at home.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

A NUMBER of books stand over for judgment till next weekamong others, Mr Moir's erudite work on Ancient Medicine, and the whole host of periodicals,

Of the contributions received this week some shall have a place, but want of room forbids us to particularize." J. B. T." and a Correspondent from Oban, are in types.