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"Then that must be the coast of Norway afore us,' said Away, thou bonny witch o' Fife, the Shepherd; 'anà a curious and romantic country it

On the foam of the air to heave an' Ait, is, whilk I'm very fond o' seeing. Gin it hadna been An' little reck thou of a poet's life, James Wilson, the great naturalist, wha lives out at Ca For he sees thee yet ! he sees thee yet! naan, that mistrystit me aince, I had seen a' the Dophvines

• Aha, Doctor, I ken where we are now! This is nae lang syne

But I hardly trow that we hae been a night Norway, but the Western Isles of Scotland. We hae au' a day swinging alang the floors o' heaven, for I haena been half-way ower the Atlantic, an' brought back again ta'en aboon a dozen noggins o'the whisky yet, an' I think by the changing o' the wind. Weel, this is really grand! ye hae only gotten fourteen, whilk wad hae been but an

-to see sae mony islands, a' like dark spots o' ebony on unco scanty allowance in twenty-four hours in sic a cli

a sheet o' silver an' gold! This is a scene that's worth mate as we war in.' • But then, sir, we know not how long we slept,' said for I hae been ower them a' an' ower again. Yon far

the living for! Weel do I ken a’ their shapes an’ sizes, 1; "for above a certain altitude the human frame is sub- thest away ane is the Lang Island, stretching frae Barra ject to torpidity, and I remember that mine was such,

to the Butt of Lewis 166 miles, an' containing about as that if you had not awakened me, I think I should never many inhabitants. A waefu' wretched country as ever my have awakened again.' An we had fa'n baith in the sea sleeping, we wad hae nalds ; but, alak! they'll soon no hae as muckle land on the

fit was in, aince the inheritance o' the M‘Leods an' M‘Dogotten a terrible gliff,' said he; ‘and really, if we had been haill island as to bury the hinder-end o' them. Then, near the land or near a ship, I wad hae likit to have seen it, for the fun o' the thing. But the truth is, that I hae yonder is Sky; a fine island, an' maistly theirs yet. Then

here, the fertile Isla, the barren Jura, the bonny little nae inclination ava to light as lang as our provisions last, Colonsay, and the inhospitable Mull. Oh, but my heart for I think it a grand ploy to swoop through the heavens is light at flying ower them in this style !-ay, beyond wi' plenty to eat an' drink. Na, na, I hae nae wish to

the flight o' the Hebridean eagle hersell! See how they light this lang time yet, an' least of a' in the open sea.

scour away frae aneath us, as if borne by an irresistible Think ye there's nae way o'tickling her to gar her spring flood of an ocean river! And then, here come the valup again? "Why, there is one certain method,' said I;' which is, leys and gentle hills of Lorn, with the towering cliffs far

beyond them. But how insignificant their appearance by throwing out our ballast.' Ballast! where is't ?" said the Shepherd, in astonish- from this point! Ah, auld Scotland, how my heart

warms to thee! Wha could look on sic a scene, an' no

turn a poet ? Why, all that superfluous stuff of victuals, wines, and spirits,' said I.

“ Man never look'd on scene so fair * The deil be in your fingers gin ye touch them as lang As Scotland, from the ambient air; as I hae the pith of a man in my fore-spaulds,' said he. On hills in clouds of vapour roll'd, * Ballast! My truly, billy, but ye ballast weel! Sic bal On vales that beam with burning gold ; last as this winna dunt at our doors every day. No, gin Or, stretching far and wide between, Fe were trailing ower the waves at our grey yaud's tail Her fading shades of fairy green ; like a dolphin, wad I suffer ye to throw out these precious The glassy sea that round her quakes, benefits ; sae ye may fit on your cork jacket an' prepare for Her thousand isles, her thousand lakes, the warst, for that resource disna await you.'

Her mountains frowning o'er the main, * Finding it in vain to reason with this thirsty and ra Her waving fields of golden grain ; venous son of the mountains, I began to look about me

On such a scene, so sweet, so wild, for some other resource, assured that there would be some The radiant sunbeam never smiled.") way of letting the gas escape, should we perceive a ship or

* That is very good, James, and very appropriate,' said proper lighting place. I had long noted a small brass handle, attached to a tube which seemed to connect our

I;'who in the world can have written that?' tent and the balloon, but I did not understand it, for at

Ay, what need you speir, Doctor,' returned he ;'wha the handle was written, If like to alight, turn this. But

writes a' the good sangs an' ballads in our keuntry, an' seeing that we approached nigher and nigher to the

never ane either kens or thanks him for it?' sea, I now watched for an opportunity of turning it and letting the gas escape ; and accordingly, perceiving a large

O for an angel's pencil new, ship at a due distance before us and some small craft far

With canvass of the ocean's span! ther on, I tried the handle with all my might, but it would not budge. I tried it the other way, when it instantly

For such a panoramic view

*Neler met the eye of mortal man: turned with a jerk and a spring; and thereby letting forth

There flies Loch-Awe, like silver zone, a supply of gas, away mounted the balloon once more in

She's speeding to the south away ; the most beautiful slanting style imaginable. The Shep

And there's Cruachan's clifted cone, herd was actually, delirious with joy. He clapped his

Less than Mount-Benger coils of hay. bands, waved his bonnet, took a queich of whisky, and then sung out

Now speed, now speed, our wondrous steed,

Though now thou’rt skiffing on the sky,
In kind Glengarry's snuggest bed

We'll find a shelter by and by.
Hurray! hurray! The spirit's away,

There goes Ben-Nevis' sovereign head,

Soon o'er the Border will he be ;-
A racket of air with her bandelet;

Ha, speed thee! speed ! my wondrous steed,
We're up in the air on our bonny grey mare,

The world's on wing from under thee!
But I see her yet ! I see her yet!
We'll ring the skirts o' the gouden wain,

• We were very near the top of that broad unshapely Wi' curb an' bit, wi' curb an' bit,

hill that you call Ben-Knaves,' said I;' we might have An' catch the bear by the frozen mane,

cast anchor on it.' An' I see her yet! I see her yet!

Ay, but how wad ye haè gotten aff it again?' said the Away again o'er mountain and main

Shepherd; ' I was very feared for a game at hardheads To sing at the morning's rosy yett,

wi' some o' his rocks, but the current o'wind that streeks An' water my mane at its fountain clear

up his ravines carried us safely over. And now, hey for Bat I see her yet! I see her yet!

Glengarry! It is straight before us as the crow Aies."

SONG FOURTH.

SONG THIRD.

EDINBURGH.

garry ?'

He is spoken of as a wild savage chief that,' said I, tertainer, and haste to Edinburgh, being distressed about • and one who will account very little of cutting off the my lawsuit, but I could not make Hogg budge ; so there heads of two Sassenachs like you and me.'

I left him, sitting drinking and singing with Glengarry, * An' that's nae lee neither—but only if we were gaun and, for any thing I know, he is sitting there to this day.* to cross him or bully him; whilk we hae nae call to do, for a mair kind an' ceevileezed gentleman I never crossed the door threshold o'.'

LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC SOCIETIES OF • Here is a fine house, like the castle of a chief, on our left hand,' said I; ' I suppose that is the castle of Inver

ROYAL SOCIETY.

Monday, 14th January. • No, no,' said the Shepherd, that is Lochiel's castle, bonny Auchnacarry. I have seen it a ruin, all black as ink

Sir Walter Scort in the Chair. wi' the flames that Cumberland's brutal soldiers raised in Present,—Sir George S. Mackenzie; Professors Hope it-sae mean and grovelling was the malice they bore against Russell, Wallace, Brunton, Pillans, Graham; Drs Hia man that had frightened them sne aft on the field. Lochiel bert, Knox, Borthwick, Gregory, Russell; James Skene, has now renewed it in mair than its primitive splendour.

John Robison, Thomas Allan, Charles J. S. Menteith,

Patrick Neill, Esquires, &c. &c. But he's a gouk; for instead o' leeving at that lovely romantic mansion, and spending his income amang his Ca. This was the most crowded meeting of the Society, both merons, he'll be snowking about the vile stinking shores in respect to the number of members and of visitors, that o' East-Lothian. When I think o'the gallant, matchless has been held this season. Sir George Mackenzie read the heroism o' their forefathers, the very thought o' sicean first part of a paper, entitled " An Elucidation of the Fur chiefs as Clan-Ranald and Lochiel is aye like to turn my communication professed to be no more than an expositica

damental Principles of Phrenology.” The learned Baronetu heart. Fient a ane o' them a' has the true an' proper of those first principles upon which all Phrenologists are feelings of a chief but Glengarry himsell, let them a' say agreed; and as these have been already repeatedly laid beo' him what they like!—And now we are coming very fore the public, we do not see any necessity for troubling near the bit, Doctor, for as soon as we cross the corner o' our readers with a recapitulation of them. No member that ugly black hill, then Invergarry is plump below us.' offered any remarks upon Sir George's Essay. The Secre. . Then over it we must go,' said I, ‘for how are we to

tary announced the reception of communications from Dr bring down that inexhaustible machine? Hogg, you are

Hibbert, on the Geology of the Volcanic district Laach, iu

the Prussian Rhine Provinces; from Dr Knox, on the accounted a powerful fellow; take a bottle and throw at

Dentition of the Cetacere, with at attempt to fix the rauk it with all your force, perhaps you will be able to burst which the Dugong holds in the animal kingdom ; and from it.'

Dr Edward Turner, a Chemical Analysis of Wad, * Hand me up a bottle then, Doctor,' said he ; ' but od, be sure it be a toom ane, else I winna fling it.' He then set himself firm in his basket, and holding with the one

THE DRAMA. hand, he flung a bottle at the balloon with all his force, which only rebounded away into the air. He tried an

CHARLES MAThews is the intellectual comedian of the other, and another, all with the same effect; and I think present day. Liston is too much of a buffoon, and there I never saw aught so ludicrous as the Shepherd standing is no one else to be named. Yates is clever, but he wants biting his lip, pelting the balloon with one bottle after the original genius of Mathews. What we enjoy about another, and cursing her for a muckle unpurpose swine's Mathews is, that he does not need to wait till some one blether. At length, perceiving the chief himself at his has conceived a grotesque and humorous character, before side, Hogg, with a voice like a trumpet, shouted out, he can be grotesque or humorous himself. He is bis own • Help, Glengarry! help, help! for the love o' M‘Don author. Not that he writes comedies and farces; but nell's name an' the Jacobite Relics o' Scotland, bring us

that he sees them written in human nature, and reads down, bring us down!'

and studies them in everyday society. Mathews is de“ Glengarry ran for his rifle, but when the Bard saw lightful, not because he acts what is humorous, but be. it cocked and pointed towards him, he roared out,“ Tak cause he feels it. Besides, his appreciation of the ridicu. care what ye're about, ye deil's buckie, an' dinna baud at

lous is delicate and refined. He has the mind of a genthe basket ! Crack went Glengarry's rifle, and before tleman, and consequently pleases the boxes more than the one could have said Mahershallalhashbaz, we were plash- gallery. His representations are full of minuteness. ing in Loch-Garry. Still the intractable machine, not

The little nice shades of character--its outs and ins—its withstanding her wound, was dragging us on, whiles be- sınall tortuosities—its oddities—its distinguishing pecuneath the water and whiles above it ; but always as the liarities, which more obtuse spirits never think of_he Shepherd's head came above, he uttered a loud Hilloa ! in sees at a glance. Yet, there is seldom much bitterness a half-choked style, while Lady Glengarry and her Misses in his mirth. He is too sensitive and social, and full of were screaming with laughter at the miserable flounder- kindliness, to tolerate the vulgar caricaturist. He rejoices ing figure we made in the loch. Glengarry was all ac

in tickling the fancy, but not in wounding the feel. tivity; he manned a boat to our rescue, but before it ings. Most of his favourite portraits swim in a rich could reach us, we were dragged ashore and bumping up

essence of bonhommie ; we laugh at them, without being the hill, away for Inch-Laggan ; and I firmly believe, either ill-natured or losing our time. This is the that if we had not fastened tirm among the branches of great test of an actor's powers, and of the value of an elm-tree, we had been taken to the heavens a third mirth—has it any thing improving in it? We laugh at a time.

scene of bustle in an ordinary farce,when chairs and tables “ So much unaffected kindness and hospitality I never are thrown down, and the dramatis personæ run knockexperienced as in the house of Glengarry, but we never ing against each other in all directions. But this is idle told him how we were set off, nor does he know till this laughter, called forth by seeing our fellow-creatures make day but that we took the jaunt out of good-will and en- preposterous fools of themselves

. As soon as the exciting thusiasm. Hogg even told him that he was engaged to cause of the merriment ceases, we almost regret that we another jaunt with a literary friend. He gave us £100 lost our time in giving way to it. There is more philofor our balloon, in which he proposed to go a-eagle-shoot-sophy, and a much deeper substratum, in the mirth exing, and take some jaunts to his estates in Knoidart and cited by Mathews. He opens up to us new views of huMorrer. He was delighted with this mad aerial visit of man nature,—he reads us a moral lesson in the midst ot the Shepherd's, and the two sung Jacobite songs the our cachinations,—he shows folly her own image, and whole night over. I was obliged to leave our kind en- smiles her out of countenance,—he puts things in a new

light, and as soon as we see them in that light, we obtain Spirit of Beauty ! may thou still prevail, new ideas concerning them,—the more he makes us laugh, And o'er both Time and Ruin keep thy sway! the better it is for both our head and heart. Mathews, Though man's divinest works these may assail, moreover, is rich in thoughts. His mind continually over And with defacing fingers work decay, dows with them. He always seems to us, if we may so speak, Thou bast a power more mighty yet than they to move in an atmosphere of jocund conceptions. His face, Pervading nature, and enlivening all ;deeply marked, as it now is, with a thousand lives and Thou mak'st more beautiful the ruins grey wrinkles, is a study for a Shakspeare. There is in it Than princely palace, with its stately hall; the faces of a multitude. It is like a series of palpable Witness the ivy'd tower, the garland-cover'd wall. and visible mental operations. His eye is full of all kinds of light. His nose twitches about, up and down, Spirit of Beauty! Woman's lovely form new to this side and now to that, like a merry mischie Is thy fit temple, and thy fairest shrine ; vous imp, half buried among the dimples and little knolls Thou mayst take shelter there 'mid every storm and crevices of his cheeks, in which a thousand racy ima That darkens o'er this earth, no more divine. ginations lurk. It is to us also matter of great consola Although in worlds above thy light may shine, tion that Mathews is lame, and halts in his gait. It takes The brightness that thou giv'st to woman's eyes bim at once out of the common class of men, and hangs Eclipsetb all those heavenly orbs of thine ; up his picture indelibly over the chimney-piece of our To view the radiant son) that in them lies, memory. There is more humour in either of his legs, 'Tis said that angels have been known to leave the skies. than in the whole body of any other man. We have fancied to ourselves that we saw little roguish faces hiding under his stockings, and peeping out from his shoes. Of

STANZAS TO A LADY. All the comic aetors we ever saw, Mathews is our favour. ite. This is little to be wondered at. He was admired

By Lawrence Macdonald. by Lord Byron, and is esteemed by Sir Walter Scott. A three-act piece, called “ Monsieur Mallet, or My

“ She walks in beauty like the night Daughter's Letter," was produced on Wednesday even

or cloudless climes and starry skies,

Where all that's best of dark and bright, ing, to introduce Mr Mathews to us as the Frenchman.

Meet in her aspect and her eyes, He, of course, sustained the part admirably; but the

Thus mellowed to the tender light drama is a very poor affair, and turns upon an incident

That heaven to gaudy day denies." which, though it does excellently for an anecdote, is wo

THERE is a pensive sweetness in thine eyes, fully diluted when made into a whole play. Besides, the thing is ill written, and gives but little scope for good

A mystery and a depth, like that of heaven

When viewed by night without the day's disguise ! acting.-Murray, as a stage-struck negro, was amusing ; and Miss Pincott, as Monsieur Mallet's daughter, was

Though 'gainst this world my spirit e'er hath striven,

Yet there be deeds of mine to be forgiven ; simple and natural. If this young lady would act with

And, fair Madonna, I would pray to thee a little more energy, we think she might make herself

For solace to a heart all wrung and riven; well liked. We expect to owe to Mr Mathews several

To features less divine men bend the knee, exceeding pleasant evenings next week.

And lovelier in the realms of fancy none may see.
Old Cerberus.

Though I have gazed on faces where the eye

Sbone forth in beauty like the star of morn

That ushers in the day so tranquilly,
ORIGINAL POETRY.

And struggleth not as doth the babe new born,
When first it wakes to life 'mid passion's storm;

But steals all gently o'er each earthly bower,
TO THE SPIRIT OF BEAUTY.

As if it meant to keep the angel form

It thus assunies, in that most heavenly hour,
By Lawrence Macdonald.

When it comes forth to wake the world with gentle power: [We have pleasure in introducing to our Teaders as a worshipper of the Muses, one of the most successful and eminent of our Scottish

Yet, there is something like a nameless feeling Sculptors.--Ed.)

Of which we're conscious, but know not the cause

That hovers round thee, like the daylight stealing "Who hath not proved how feebly words essay To fix one spark of beauty's heavenly ray!"

O'er Nature's face-ere man infringed her laws,

Or earth beheld the curtain sin still draws Spirit of Beauty! were it not for thee,

Between high Heaven and this inglorious spot; I would not gaze one hour on Nature's face,

Where, if one blessing falls, it is because How great soe'er her wondrous works might be ;

Lost virtue never can be all forgot ; Nor yet desire to traverse boundless space,

And if it brings eternal bliss, 't will be thy lot.
Exploring all things, wheresoe'er a trace

Of wisdom, power, or goodness, meets the eye. 'Tis this all nameless thing that dwells in thee,
Thou hold'st the universe in thy embrace !

The essence of thy being, thy mind's light,
The rolling earth!--the burning spheres on high! Thy soul in more than infant parity,
And all those worlds of light that wander through the sky. That makes both eye and star set to the sight,

When thou art near, with something still more brightSpirit of Beauty! in a foreign land,

Shining in silence like the pale moonbeam, I've seen thee mingle with the noontide sun,

When it reveals the glories of the night, And o'er both earth and ocean wave thy hand ;

And makes this earth to me seem like a dream, And when that glorious orb its course had run,

Aud thou the fair pervading spirit of the scene. And night's more silent, solemn reign begun,

I've seen thee with the pale moon mount the skies, Speed on thy journey through this world below, As if mankind, and earth, thou sought'st to shun,

Thou loveliest of thy kind, and most divine ! So high in azure heaven thou seem'st to rise ; Though I would kingdoms for thy sake forego, Du back again thou can't to dwell in woman's eyes ! I would not link thy destinies to mine,

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As Scotia stood musing on days that are past,
Her eye all around her she pensively cast,

O'er her land of red heather and thistles so green :
A sigh came unbidden, when, far in a wild,
She Coila descried softly tending a child,
Whose looks beam'd with rapture, through ringlets p!

fuse, As conn'd he the Legends of Wallace and Bruce,

Entranced 'mong the heather and thistles so green.

“ Hail, Coila, still dearest! whom now dost thou nur A statesman or warrior ? a blessing or curse

To my land of red heather and thistles so green ?"“ A child,” she replied, “ who is doom'd to inspire The sons of thy heather with patriot fire; And yet no Belhaven, to combat thy wrong, Nor Wallace of war, but a Wallace of song,

Awakes to thy heather and thistles so green.

An' «

“ From the thousands his spirit, resistless, shall lead, As follow'd thy Wallace, a Bruce* may succeed

Our bard of the heather and thistle so green. Though far hath the fame of thy heroes been heard, Still farther the fame of thy Patriot Bard : While roams the proud peasant thy mountains and pla So long shalt thou, Scotia, exult in his strains

While blooms the red heather and thistle so green.

A' ye wha bow at friendship's fane,

Or own the Muse's sway;
A'ye, within whose tingling veins

Warm Love's soft pulses play ;
True Scottish hearts assembled here,

This night to toast and sing
Deep Mem'ry o' the Bard o' Kyle,

In friendship's social ring!
An' sure frae out our isle ne'er sprang

A worthier wight than he ;
Nor, frae the North, has pibroch rang

In strains mair bauld and free:
Though spurned at Fortune's venal ha',

His genius rose sublime,
To hail our honour'd “ Land o' Cakes,"

days o' langsyne."
He sang auld Coilas haughs and streams,

Her leafy woodlands gay,
Her flowery straths and airy bens,

Where winsome lasses stray :
Frae his wild harp bauld strains he struck,

'Neath hoar Lincluden's shade ;* In bonnie Doon's romantic neuks

He mourn'd his Highland maid. His harp, was heard on rocky Dee,

Where Aird's green forest grows;
At Beauty's glance on Catrine lea

The voice of Coila rose. +
When Gallia shook her threatening crest,

He woke that matchless strain,
That roused in every patriot breast

The Bruce's martial flame ;
For echoing wide the slogan flew

All Scotland's vales alang,
And freedom waved her borinet blue

The mustering ranks amang.'
Though doom'd mid Zaara's deserts wild

The dread Simoom to brave,
Or where nae simmer breezes fan

The far antarctic wave,
Still memory should our bosoms charm,

And wake, o'er Robin's lay,
Remembrance of our native land,

In life's ecstatic May.
Though warldly cares our steps should trace,

When wintry eild is near,
Or puirtith shaw his weezen'd face

To twine us o' our gear,
Ev'n then, forlorn and “tempest driven,"

His precepts sage and true,
By star-eyed Independence given,

Shall proudly bear us through.
Come, then, a toastlet's pledge it fain,

“ May a', frae Tweed to Spey, Fast link'd within the Muse's cbain,

True brothers be for aye;

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" The Vision, a Fragment," which, in Dr Cunie's opinion, is the most sublime of all the compositions of Burns,

The Lass o' Ballochmyle.

• Prophetic of Sir Walter Scott,

Blending thy mother's playful charms

Marion de Lorme, comprising the reign of Louis XIII.; and the With beauties all thine own;

Mémoires du Marquis de Dangeau, from the original manuscripts in

the King's Library. Thou hast her dimples and her smile ;

Sir Thomas LAWRENCE-Sir Thomas Lawrence had been a Her buoyancy and mirth;

member of the Royal Academy for thirty years, and succeeded to the And, blest inheritance ! thy heart

Presidency on the death of Mr West. He is supposed to have derived Reflects her modest worth.

an income of about 1.10,000 a year from his profession. On the

day previous to his death, he had worked on a splendid portrait on Ay, hide thy blushes there, my sweet,

which he was engaged, of the King in his robes; but the last finished In the bosom where thou'st lain,

work which left his hands is the exquisite portrait of Miss Fanny

Kemble, which has been drawn on stone by Mr Lane, and is just In years long past, in many an hour

published. It is a very remarkable fact, that no portrait whatever Of restlessness and pain.

exists of Sir Thomas Lawrence, either on canvass or in marble: he 'Tis bliss to feel thy cheek once more

having never sat for one, nor painted one of himself; which latter Thus on my breast recline

almost all the great masters of former times did. The Royal Aca. Thy cradle once-and now thy home

demicians who are now most in the public eye, after Sir William Would it were pure as thine ?

Beechey, and Messrs Northcote, Thomson, Stothard, and Westall

who are all at that age when it is not likely that they would willingly, Edinburgh, 9th Nov. 1829.

W. B. H. enter upon the active duties of the Presidency-are Howard, Etty,

Turner, Westmacott, Chantrey, and Wilkie. The President is chosen

by ballot, and the day of election is the 25th instant. Every acaTHE CIGAR.

demician has a vote, and the choice is determined by a second ballot

on the two who have the highest number of votes; the object of elecMy spirits, confound them ! had sunk below par, tion is then recommended to the approval of the King. It is said So I said to myself--I will smoke a cigar ;

that Wilkie has the best chance. We learn that Mr Thomas CampFor I knew that if any thing earthly would do bell has undertaken to prepare a life of Sir Thomas Lawrence, for For curing those devils by men called “the blue," which he is to receive one thousand guineas. "Twould be an Havannah, to me dearer far

FINE ARTS.- There is now in course of publication at Venice,

a collection of the Statues belonging to the Imperial Academy of Fine Than Persian, or Russian, or Turkish cigar.

Arts, and of other classical sculptures which are the objects of public

admiration in that city. They are of a large quarto size. Whenever I meet with the crosses of life

PROFESSIONAL SOCIETY'S CONCERT.-The first Subription ConA bill from my tailor-a scold from my wife cert for the season took place in the Assembly Rooms last Tuesday. A riot in Ireland, a murder in France,

It was respectably, but not crowdedly attended, a good number haI take out my herb with a calm non-chalance,

ving been kept away by the intimation that none but subscribers could And, fragrantly whiffing, look grave as a czar

be admitted. of the instrumental music, the gem of the evening

unquestionably was the Overture to “Semiramis," upon which Ros'Tis a noble specific, a genuine cigar!

sini has exhausted all the richness and variety of his genius. It is full

of striking and beautiful movements, and, notwithstanding its length, Some live upon books, and some live upon beer, was'enthusiastically encored. We observe that some critics have atSome with racing and gambling can run through the tacked this overture ;-it may be scientifically defective in one or two year,

points, but it is full of genius, which, we regret to observe, the said criSome dote upon beauty, and would not resign

tics do not appear to have found out. The three vocalists of this

concert were, Miss Inverarity, Miss E. Paton, and Miss Louisa Jar. A fair woman's smile, or for gold or for wine ;

Each of these young ladies sung two songs; but Miss InveraBut a queen might pass me in her glittering simar

rity's “ Il braccio mio” was the only one which obtained an encore. Unregarded—if I had my tranquil cigar.

Miss Inverarity, who upon this occasion made only her second pub

lic appearance, has an amazingly powerful voice, which, under the To the doctor a patient gives highest delight,

superintendence of Mr Murray, she has evidently cultivated with no To the alderman turtle's an exquisite sight,

little assiduity. There is still, however, a considerable want of

sweetness and refinement in her style:—if she can acquire these, we At tithe-time a fat bishop's joy is complete,

doubt whether she will have a rival in Edinburgh. Miss E. Paton is A lady loves jewels, a client's a treat

always lady-like and pleasing. Her songs were “Fra tante angoTo the gentlemen flocking in crowds round the bar,— scie," and " There's a tear.” Miss Louisa Jarman is as yet new to But the purest of pleasures is in a cigar.

an Edinburgh andience; but from the two appearances which she

has now made, we hesitate not to pronounce her a decided acquisition It brightens the genius, it softens the heart,

to the musical world here. Her voice, though not of very great voIt goes to the brain by a wonderful art,

lume or power, is sweet and ciear, and her style chaste and elegant.

In her “ Una voce poco fa," on Tuesday evening, there was perhaps It makes you a poet in spite of yourself,

a little want of brilliancy; but the ballad of “ Alice Gray” was full It changes to china what erst was but delf,

of pathos and expression, almost reminding us of Miss Noel. You look at your candle and think it a star,

MUSIC-M. de Solomon, a musical professor at Paris, has just in. You lisp in soft numbers and bless your cigar!

vented a little machine, by which, it is said, all instruments may be H. G. B.

tuned without difficulty, even by the youngest musician.-The musical intelligence from Germany is wholly on the subject of Paganini,

the celebrated violin-player. The sums he is said to have accumuLITERARY CHIT-CHAT AND VARIETIES.

lated since his departure from Frankfort, that is, in the space of

three months, are enormous. He is reported to be fond of moneyUNIVERSAL MECHANISM, as consistent with the Creation of all a pardonable weakness, when it is considered that the wealth he Things, with the appearances of Nature, and with the dictates of amasses is for an only child, a boy of four years of age, to whom he Reason and Revelation, by G. M. Bell, Esq., is nearly ready for pub- is anxious to ensure an independence before his own health, already lication.

precarious, is entirely broken. Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry, designed to illustrate REMARKABLE SPECIES OF PETTY LARCENY—THE ATLAS their peculiar Modes of Thinking and Acting, will shortly be pub- versus THE LITERARY JOURNAL.-We were not a little amazed lished in Dublin.

to observe, under the notice “ To Correspondents" in last week's A new novel, entitled Forester, will appear immediately.

Atlas, the following paragraph :-" There has been, for some time' The Pacha of Egypt, besides sending young men to Europe to pur- past, a species of petty larcely carried on by our provincial contemrue their studies, has commenced a newspaper at Boulaq, the port of poraries, which we are surprised to find committed by a respectable Cairo, which is to be published twice a-week. It is entitled News of paper, the Edinburgh, Literary Journal. Our articles are weekly Egypt, of the common folio form, fand in two columns, the one copied wholesale without acknowledgment. (!) As the Journal does Turkish, and the other Arabic.

not require aids of this kind, we hope it will have the courtesy, in fuAmongst the anomalies of the day, we observe a Treatise on Boxing ture, to give credit to the source from whence it derives its intellipublished by Virtue.

gence.”—There must be some mistake here. We have no desire to Among the numerous volumes of Mémoires announced at Paris, quarrel with the Atlas ; but really the accusation contained in the ve notice the continuation of Mémoires d'une Femme de Qualité, above passage is one of the coolest things we have seen for a long from the death of Louis the Eighteenth to 1829; the inedited Me while. With the exception of a single line or two of literary gossip, moires de Madame la Duchesse de Chateauroux ; the inedited Mé- which we take indiscriminately from the Court Journal, the Literary nares de Madame la Marquise de Pompadour; the Mémoires de Gazette, the Spectator, the Athenæum, and, it may be, the Atlas, and

man.

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