Times of Trial; being a brief Narrative of the Progress of the Reformation, and of the Sufferings of some of the Reformers. By Mary Ann Kelty. One vol. 8vo. Pp. 470. London. Longman, Rees, and Co. 1830. THIS is a very sensible book, displaying good feeling on the part of the author. It is a connected history of the sufferings of the Reformers, from the time of Wickliffe, down to the accession of Elizabeth. It will be read with pleasure by all who take an interest in the subject. MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. MY FIRST FEE. A CHAPTER FROM THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A BARRISTER. "Fee him, father, fee him." SEVEN long yearning years had now elapsed since, with the budding anticipation of youthful hope, I had assumed the lugubrious insignia of the bar. During that dreadful time, each morn as old St Giles told the hour of nine, might I be seen insinuating my emaciated figure within the penetralia of the Parliament House, where, begowned and bewigged, and with the zeal of a Powell or a Barclay, I paced about till two. These Peripatetic practices had wellnigh ruined me in Wellingtons and, latterly, in shoes. My little Erskine was in pawn; while my tailor and my landlady threw out most damning hints of their long bills and longer credit. stand them; but consoled myself with the thought, that the day would come when my tailor would cease his dunning, and my landlady her clamour. The old fox was plan I commenced my machinations. Often have I looked with envy upon the more favoured I had gone the different circuits, worn and torn my gown, seated myself in awful contemplation on the side benches, maintained angry argument on legal points with some more favoured brother, within earshot of a wily writer. In fine, I had resorted to every means that fancy could suggest, or experience dictate; but as yet my eyes Alas! this was had not seen, nor my pocket felt a fee. Pondering on my griefs, with my feet on the expiring embers of a sea-coal fire, the chair in that swinging posi denied. I might be said to be, as yet, no barrister; for tion so much practised and approved in Yankee Land, what is a lawyer without a fee? A nonentity! a sha--the seat destined for a clerk occupied by my cat, for I dow! To my grief, I seemed to be fast verging to the latter; and I doubt much whether the "Anatomie vivante could have stood the comparison-so much had my feeless fast fed on my flesh! I cannot divine the reason for this neglect of my legal services. In my own heart, I had vainly imagined the sufficiency of my tact and subtelty in unravelling a nice point; neither had I been wanting in attention to my studies; for heaven and my landlady can bear witness that my consumption of coal and candle would have sufficed any two ordinary readers. There was not a book or treatise on law which I had not dived into. I was insatiable in literature; but the world and the writers seemed ignorant of my brain-belabouring system, and sedu.. lously determined that my feeling propensities should not be gratified. Never did I meet an agent either in or out of Court, but my heart and hand felt a pleasing glow of hope and of joy at the prospect of pocketing a fee; but how often have they turned their backs without even the mortifying allusion to such a catastrophe! How oft have I turned round in whirling ecstasy as I felt some seemingly patronising palm tap gently on my shoulders with such a tap as writers' clerks are wont to use; but, oh, ye gods! a grinning wretch merely asked me how I did, and passed love every thing of the feline species,-my cogitations were disturbed by an application for admittance at the outer-door. It was not the rat-tat of the postman, nor the rising and falling attack of the man of fashion, but a compound of both, which evidently bespoke the knocke unaccustomed to town. I am somewhat curious in knocks I admire the true principles of the art, by which one may distinguish the peer from the postman-the dun from the dilettante the footman from the furnisher. But there was something in this knock which baffled all my skill; yet sweet withal, thrilling through my heart with a joy unfelt before. Some spirit must have presided in the sound, for it seemed to me the music of the spheres. A short time elapsed, and my landlady “opened wide the infernal doors." Now hope cut capers (Lazenby, thou wert not to blame, for of thy delicacies I dared not even dream!)—now hope cut capers within me! Heavy footsteps were heard in the passage, and one of the lords of the creation marched his calves into the apartment. With alacrity I conveyed my "corpus juris" to meet him, and, with all civility, I requested him to be seated. My landlady with her apron dusted the arm-chair, (I purchased it at a sale of Lord M -'s effects, not causes,— expecting to catch inspiration.) In this said chair my man ensconced his clay. I had commenced my survey of his person, when my eyes were attracted by a basilisk-like bunch of papers which the good soul held in his hand. In ecstasy I gazed characters were marked on them which could not be mistaken; a less keen glance than mine might have discovered their import. My joy was now beyond all bounds, testifying itself by sundry kickings and contortions of the body. I began to fear the worthy man might think me mad, and repent him of his errand,—I calmed myself, and sat down. My guest thrust into my hands the papers, and then proceeded to issue letters of open doors against his dexter pocket. His intentions were evident; with difficulty could I restrain myself. For some minutes "he groped about the vast abyss," during which time my agitation increased so much that I could not have answered one question, even out of that favourite chapter of one of our institutional writers, "On the Institution of Fees." but let me describe the man to whom I owe so much. He was a short, squat, farmer-looking being, who might have rented some fifty acres or so. Though stinted in his growth upwards, Dame Nature seemed determined to make him amends by an increase of dimension in every other direction. His nose and face spoke volumes-ay, libraries of punch and ale; these potations had also made themselves manifested lower down, by the magnitude of the belligerent powers. There was in his phiz a cunning leer, in his figure a knowing tournure, which was still further heightened by his dress; this consisted of a green coat, which gave evident signs of its utter incapability of ever being identified with Stultz; cords and continuations encased the lower parts of his carcass; a belcher his throat; while the whole was surmounted by a castor of most preposterous breadth of brim, and shallow capacity. But in this man's appearance there was a something which pleased me-something of a nature superior to other mortals. I might have been prejudiced, but his face and figure seemed to me more beautiful than morning. Never did I gaze with a more complacent benevolence on a breeches-pocket. At last he succeeded in dragging from its depths a huge old stocking, through which "the yellow letter'd Geordies keeked." With what raptures did I look on that old stocking, the produce, I presumed, of the stocking of his farm. It seemed to possess the power of fascination, for my eyes could not quit it. Even when my client (for now I calculated upon him,) -even when my client began to speak, my attention still wandered to the stocking. He told me of a dispute with his landlord, about some matters relating to his farm, that he was wronged, and would have the law of the laird, though he should spend his last shilling, (here I looked with increased raptures at the stocking.) On the recommendation of the minister (good man!) he had sought me for advice. He then opened wide the jaws of his homely purse-he inserted his paw-now my heart beat-he made a jingling noise-my heart beat quicker still-he pulled forth his two interesting fingers-Oh, ecstasy! he pressed five guineas into my extended hand—they touched the virgin palm, and oh, ye gods! I was FEED!!! Edinburgh, 16th March, 1830. ANDREW THE PACKMAN. AFTER THE MANNER OF WORDSWORTH. By the Ettrick Shepherd. P. R. IN vale of Bassenthwaite there once was bred A man of devious qualities of mind; Andrew the Packman, known from Workington, And its dark and uncomely pioneers, Even unto Geltsdale forest, where the county Borders on that of Durham, vulgarly Called Bishoprigg. But still within the bounds Of ancient Cumberland, his native shire, Andrew held on his round, higgling with maids About base copper, vending baser wares. Not unrespective, but respectively, As suited several places and relations, Did he spread forth muslins, and rich brocades Of tempting aspect; likewise Paisley lace, Upholden wove in Flanders, very rich Of braid, inwove with tinsel, as the blossoms Of golden broom appear in hedgerows, white Then his store With flowers of budding hawthorn. Andrew knew well, better than any man But I forgot, Thus wisdom should be earn'd. Now this same look had something in't, to me Now it must be acknowledged, to my grief, Of the old serpent's speech, the tree, the fruit, In which fell human kind! The man went on, Roused into opposition at this mode Yet sapping the foundation of the structure The Earl of Lonsdale. On the right hand side, For hanging hats upon. Have I beheld it cover'd o'er with hats. Of that most noble fabric, which I have In majesty of matter and of voice Aroused me to defend. "Sir, hear me speak," That one stone-one small pin-the most minute, Our beacon of Eternity, shall fall In one occursion, one fermenting mass, It sunk before me like a mould of snow He look'd three ways at once, then other three, He went away-he gave his pack one hitch In both his hands held firm across that part In horses call'd the rump, he trudged him on, How happy mightst thou be through these thy rounds Shining on Nature's breast? Nay, what to thee -Even go thy ways! But, when thou com'st at last, DR KNOX concluded his paper on Hermaphroditical appearances in the Mamalia. Professor CHRISTISON read a paper, which he intimated to the Society was the first of a series of experimental essays on the physiology of the blood and respiration. The only order of delivery he could prescribe for these papers, was that which the progress of his experiments might suggest The present communication related to the much-agitated question, whether the change effected upon the blood in its transmission from the veins to the arteries, was susceptible of explanation upon chemical principles alone; or whether the additional aid of some vital process must be assumed in order to account for it? Priestley, Girtanner, Berthollet, and other physiologists, had shown that venous blood, agitated in contact with atmospheric air, assumed the bright arterial red; that oxygen disappears, and carbonic acid is formed, during the process-in short, that the same effects are produced as by the process of respiration in the living body. But the correctness of their experiments and inferences had lately been called in question by Dr Davy, who maintains that no change is effected in the colour of the blood; that the change produced in the composition of the air, is the result of incipient putrefaction; and that in experiments instituted by himself, with blood recently drawn from a vein, no change had taken place. Dr Christison had been induced, by this statement of Dr Davy, to repeat the experiment with the utmost care and nicety of which he was capable; and his conviction was, that the change from venous to arterial blood is effected by mere mechanical agitation of the fluid, in conjunction with atmospheric air, after being drawn from the body, as completely as if subjected to the influence of the air inhaled during the process of respiration in the human frame. Dr C. then proceeded to detail the nature of his experiments, premising that the operator required to be on his guard against deceptive results, proceeding from two different causes. In the first place, in some states of the system, the venous blood was found of such a bright red as to be with difficulty discernible from the arterial. He had known cases where the surgeon, on opening a vein, had been led for some moments, by the appearance of the blood, to fear that he had by mistake opened an artery. When the blood was in this state, it was evident that little change in the colour of the blood or composition of the air could be expected. In the second place, in the blood of persons labouring under certain disorders, the colouring bore an unduly small proportion to the serous matter. In such cases, the change effected in the composition of the air, would necessarily be so small as to be apt to escape detection, unless very nicely measured. He mentioned these circumstances to show that the failure of one, or even more experiments, was not fatal to the principle he maintained. His first care was to procure a vessel, in which all ingress of the external air could be prevented, and the quantity left in contact with the blood before and after agitation accurately ascertained. The blood was obtained so as to avoid as much as possible all previous contact with the atmosphere, by allowing it to flow in a full stream into a bottle, which was closely stopped as soon as full, with a grooved stopper. Into this bottle several small pieces of lead had been previously introduced, as nuclei round which the fibrin might collect, and thus be separated from the colouring matter and serum. The colouring matter and serum, thus prepared, were then transferred to the vessel above-mentioned, between one hour and three hours after the blood was drawn; and care was taken to admit the least possible contact with the external atmosphere. As soon as the due proportions of blood and air were in the vessel, its aperture was closed, and the agitation commenced. Care was also taken to keep the blood-vessel at the temperature of the room in which the experiment was conducted, lest the expansion or contraction of the volume of air within, should affect the application of the method by which it was poposed to ascertain whether it were diminished in bulk. After agitating the vessel for some time, the blood, from a dark purple hue, assumed the bright arterial red. The application of a curved glass tube, opening under a graduated tube which was filled with air, and vested in a saucer of coloured water, showed by the ascent of the fluid into the tube, on opening the stop-cock of the bottle, that the volume of the internal atmosphere had diminished during the process by which the colour of the blood was changed. Afterwards, by a particular contrivance, the internal air was expelled from the vessel, and received under mercury in one of the receivers usually employed for that purpose; it was found, by the application of chemical tests, that the quantity of azote remained unaffected, that the oxygen had been diminished, and a quantity of carbonic acid gas had been formed; but that the carbonic acid did not nearly equal the oxygen which had disappeared, because carbonic acid being very soluble in serum, the greater part of what was formed was absorbed. It would appear from these statements, Dr C. continued, that the result of his experiments differed materially from that announced by Dr Davy. The absorption of oxygen by ten cubic inches of venous blood, varied in different experiments from about half a cubic inch to nearly a cubic inch and a half. At the close of his paper, Dr C. repeated his experiment before the Society. He pointed out that the transition of the blood from purple to bright red was not caused, as Dr Davy alleged, by the formation of air-bubbles, and the consequent greater diffusion of the colouring matter; for it extended, after the vessel had remained at rest, to the lower portion of the air-vessel, where there was no admixture of air-bubbles with the fluid. [ERRATUM.-We are requested by Mr James Wilson, to correct an error, which inadvertently crept into our report of his paper on the American Grouse, read before the Wernerian Society. At p. 153 of the present volume, col. 2, 1. 17, Mr Wilson is made to say Ptarmigans seem to prefer comparatively temperate climates." Mr Wilson's statement was,-" Ptarmigans seem to prefer in comparatively temperate climates, such as that of Scotland, the bare and stony sides and summits of the highest mountains; but under the rigorous temperature of Greenland, and the most northern parts of North America, they are chiefly found in the vicinity of the sea-shore, by the banks of rivers, and among the willow and other copse-woods of the lower and more sheltered vales."] THE DRAMA. SINCE we last wrote, certain occurrences have taken place in the dramatic world, which we must not allow to pass unchronicled. Vandenhoff took his leave of us in the character of Damon. It is the best part he plays, and ought to have been performed at an earlier period of his engagement. On the fall of the curtain, the audience took it into their heads to vociferate loudly for him; and Vandenhoff, of course, came forward to assure them, that it was one of the happiest moments of his life, and that he would never forget them. We should have liked him better, had he expressed himself somewhat to the follow- hurry."Whatever Vandenhoff said, we know he felt thus. For ourselves, however, we wish to part friends Miss Fanny Ayton sang and acted to us for three even- different. On Thursday evening, Mr Wilson, a native of Edinburgh, and a gentleman who has already distinguished himself at the Professional Concerts here and elsewhere, made his first appearance on the stage, in the character of Henry Bertram. He was very enthusiastically received, and had evidently a number of warm friends in the pit. In the course of the evening, he sang four songs, all of which were encored. Mr Wilson has a clear powerful voice, and a distinctness of articulation particularly well adapted for stage singing. As an actor, he has, of course, much yet to learn; and probably never expects to rise very high in that department of the profession. But his vocal powers, if carefully cultivated, will carry him successfully through. He reminded us in some respects of Sinclair, and is already decidedly superior to Thorne, or any singer we ever remember to have had resident here. Of what we may consider his faults and imperfections, we shall not at present speak, being always willing to treat a debutant leniently. One thing, however, we must ask,—where did he get his boots and his white inexpressibles? Mrs Henry Siddons, previous to her final retirement from the stage, is about to appear in five of her favourite characters, commencing to-night with the part of Julia Melville, in "The Rivals." Little more than a week has elapsed, since she formed this resolution, the uncertain state of her health having led her to fear that the exertion might be too much for her. We rejoice, however, that she is now so convalescent, as to be able to present herself once more to the Edinburgh public. We have, for some time back, intended to pay a tribute to the well-merited success which has attended Mrs Siddons's theatrical career. When we see before us an actor or actress, in the heyday of health and popularity, we are too apt to forget how much of amusement and delight we owe to the ex task. The Editor of that paper will also seriously endanger his reputation if he gives his imprimatur to many assertions like the following:-" Mrs Cummins" (the ertion of their talents; and selfishly availing ourselves of it all, enjoy it in silence, and seek to display our own ingenuity, by the discovery of faults, real or imaginary. But when the irrevocabile tempus has flown past, bring-chief female singer at the Caledonian) "is possessed of ing change and absence upon its wings, it is then we come to know how much we have lost; and a pang of regret arises within us, that in a light and careless mood we should have ever spoken harshly, or wounded the feelings, of one, whose genius was in former days so fruitful a source of our own pleasures. It is thus that, at the present moment, we are inclined to think of Mrs Henry Siddons. A long line of beautiful representations crowd upon our memory, in all of which we see the features of her truly graceful and feminine mind strongly stamped; and, in the trite but touching language of Hamlet, we begin to doubt whether we shall ever "look upon her like again." One thing we do not hesitate to say, that we are not aware of ever having seen upon the stage, one who united so much the elegance and refinement of the lady, with the accomplishments of the actress. Do not let it be supposed that this is trifling praise. Our interpretation of the word lady, implies the presence of a thousand nice and delicate shades of character, which are too apt to disappear, in a profession so much exposed to public gaze as that of the stage, but which, when left, cast a lustre around the individual, which nothing else could give. It is impossible to describe the effect produced by polished manners; but it is felt, even by the vulgarest. Nor was it in this respect alone, that Mrs Siddons excelled; her histrionic powers have rarely been surpassed, and not often equalled. We ask any of our readers to recall to their recollection the most celebrated actresses whom they have seen, both in comedy and tragedy, and we are satisfied they will be prepared to own, that Mrs Siddons keeps her ground beside the best of them. Stars rose in the dramatic hemisphere, which for a time made a greater noise, and seemed to burn with a stronger light, but which, when fairly brought into comparison with the lady of whom we speak, outshone her not. Mrs Siddons never had an opportunity of winning for herself a metropolitan reputation; but this cannot alter the fact, that there is not in London at this moment, nor has there been for many years, an actress to be named beside her. We shall see her take her final leave of us with many feelings of deep regret; and can only hope, that though her retirement from public life be a serious loss to us, it will be a source of increased health, serenity, and happiness to her. The Caledonian Theatre has not been particularly well attended since it re-opened, and we suspect Mr Bass will not find the speculation a very profitable one. The truth is, as we have more than once said before, Edinburgh cannot, or will not, support two theatres at one and the same time. Were the Caledonian Theatre to open only when the Theatre Royal was closed, it might succeed, but not otherways. Nay, we go farther, and say that we should not wish it to succeed when the Theatre Royal is open; for, in that case, the latter would be more than half deserted, and the manager would be obliged to reduce his prices, and consequently to deteriorate the character of his performances, because he could then only engage inferior actors at lower salaries. If the public of Edinburgh would fill two theatres at once, we should be very glad; but as they never have done so, we stand by the Theatre Royal until we see a better. Certain of the newspaper writers, who proceed upon no steady principle in their dramatic criticisms, have been puffing the Caledonian a good deal of late. Not that we object to give this establishment all the praise it is fairly entitled to; but let that praise be judicious and discriminating, and do not let it seem to imply that the Theatre Royal, since the opening of its rival at the head of Leith-walk, must "pale its ineffectual fire." We would particularly caution the proprietors of one newspaper, the Editor of which knows something of dramatic matters, not to allow gentlemen to write criticisms for them who are totally unfit for the a beautiful voice, a chaste and simple style, and a great deal of feeling." Mrs Cummins possesses a well-cultivated voice; but we have seldom heard an individual so entirely destitute of animation, so completely sleepy in her manner both of acting and singing, as she is. Or again,—“ Mr Wilkins and Mrs Archibald particularly distinguished themselves by a vein of rich and chaste humour." Any body who understands what "rich and chaste humour" means, knows that the style of Mr Wilkins and Mrs Archibald is as far removed from it as can well be conceived. We refrain from mentioning farther enormities committed by this writer, and should not have alluded to him at all, had he not, in his zeal for the Caledonian Theatre, taken upon him to read us a lecture of a very suspicious kind, wherein he puts words in our mouth that we never used; and, what is worse, gives his readers the impression that we did use them; and wherein, moreover, he is obliging enough to insinuate, that unless we agree with him regarding the Caledonian Theatre, we are in all probability sacrificing our own judgment, in order to please the management of the Theatre Royal. We could get into a considerable passion at the impertinence of this insinuation, did we not feel obliged to hold our sides with laughter, at the bare idea of OLD CERBERUS writing to please any mortal being but himself. What say you, Mr Murray?—are we a very gentle and obedient animal, or have we a will of our own, think you? Let the Contributor to the Weekly Journal thank his stars that we are not disposed to argue with him, or with any newspaper, else we should have given him such a shake, that he would not have been able to crawl down to the Caledonian Theatre for the next month, and when he did, he would have been so much altered, that neither his friends Mr Wilkins nor Mrs Archibald would have known him again. -All that need be said of the Caledonian Theatre at present, was said in the LITERARY JOURNAL last Saturday;— it has an excellent orchestra, and one or two good singers; but the acting is very mediocre, and the things acted, as far as we have seen, are exceedingly dull. We certainly, therefore, shall not follow in the footsteps of certain wiseacres, and bestow upon it an egregious puff, "to the detriment of the Theatre Royal." Old Cerberus. LITERARY CHIT-CHAT AND VARIETIES. NIEBUHR'S ROMAN HISTORY.-Our readers will hear with pleasure, that since we intimated the destruction of Niebuhr's house and manuscripts by fire at Bonn, we have learned, by a letter from that city, that though the MS. of the third volume of his Roman History was amissing for several days, and was supposed to have shared in the general conflagration, it has, however, been since found unioju. red. The reported loss of so valuable a work occasioned much dis tress among the admirers of the distinguished historian, and we are happy to put them now in possession of the true state of matters. It is reported that Lady Byron is about to publish a reply to the Memoirs of Mr Moore, vindicating her family from any undue interference in the conjugal differences which existed between herself and her late Lord. The accomplished sister of Sir Thomas Lawrence kept a regular Diary of all the leading events and occurrences relating to her brother, during many years, including their private correspondence. These documents, together with his letters from France, Italy, Germany, and the Low Countries, principally relating to works of art, are deposited by the family with Mr Campbell, his Biographer, and are said to be highly interesting. The Life and Correspondence of Admiral Lord Rodney is in the press. The Game of Life, by Leitch Ritchie, author of "Tales and Confessions," is announced. Ranulph de Rohais, a Romance of the 12th century, by the Author of "Tales of a Voyager to the Arctic Ocean," is in preparation The Village and Cottage Florist's Directory, by James Main, A. L-S will speedily appear. Mr Woodford's Elements of the Latin Language, Part First, will appear in a few days. |