burghs to be adjusted, the land-tax allocated, and the constitution of certain burghs revised; a clerk and officer were, therefore, necessarily appointed, and a small sum laid on each burgh, to defray the annual expence, known by the name of Missive dues. This expence continued reasonable, with little variation, even for some time after the Union, till at last, the Convention finding that the trade of the country had very much increased, thought proper to extend the duties, and increase their expenditure. The missive dues, which, at the Union, were equivalent to a fair remuneration to the office-bearers, and for stationery and correspondence, have very ra pidly increased. In 1710, Provost Aird paid L. 14, 10s. as the missive dues for the burgh of Glasgow. In 1754, the sum of L. 111, 8s. 4d. was paid by Provost Brown. In 1813, the missive dues, on the whole burghs, amounting to L.1000; and in 1818-19, they were increased to L. 1400. Of this sum, L. 556, ōs. 10d. is charged for what is called the fixed establishment, notwithstanding that the salary to the conservator ceased at the Union; and the balance is for grants, in aid of improving the harbours and jails of certain burghs, &c. on the principle that such improvements are of great national advantage. As the mode of raising and distributing the sum, known by the name of missive dues, is by no means generally understood, the following explanation will give some idea of it. The Convention consists of 67 members, viz. one from each burgh, and two from Edinburgh. In consideration that the burghs are not all able to pay an equal proportion of the missive dues, the Convention have allocated the sum, which each is to pay, conformable to the undernoted scheme." "At the annual meeting in July, the Convention usually receives petitions from small burghs, craving assistance for building and repairing their harbours, jails, &c. and as the commissioners from the burgh.s have all an equal vote in conventional matters, however insignificant the burgh which they represent may be, it frequently happens, that those who are obliged to pay by far the greater part of the tax are left in the minority. The Convention ex Brought up Irvine, Anstruther Wester, 0 1 0 010 For every hundred pounds, which the Convention chooses to lay on the burghs annually, in name of missive dues, the respective burghs are subjected to pay the sum opposite to their names. Edinburgh, L. 33 6 8 Crail, Glasgow, 2 15 0 Kilrenny, 2 0 0 Lochmaben, Dumfries, New Galloway, 0 0 1 0 010 0 1 0 0 1 0 010 0 1 0 0 1 U 0 224 Cleland's Rise and Progress of the City of Glasgow. erts this extraordinary and unconstitutional power, on the sole principle of long continued practice; whereas, it is evident that the principle originated in feelings of friendly liberality, and amounted, in former times, to nothing more than voluntary aids or gifts, agreed to by all those who were to pay nearly an equal share, but which, in the course of time, have been insisted on as a matter of right, by a majority of the votes of the commissioners of particular burghs, who have almost nothing to pay. Example: For every hundred pounds of tax which the burgh senate chooses to lay on their constituents, Glasgow pays twenty-seven pounds five shillings, while the burgh of Inverary, and seventeen other burghs, pay only one shilling each; and the powers assumed by the Commissioners are such, that a charge of horning brings immediate submission from the refractory. In 1816, the Convention was so arbitrary and exorbitant in its grants, that the missive dues for this city, and the expence in Edinburgh connected therewith, amounted to L. 606, 19s. 8d. For the last twenty years, the missive dues alone have averaged L. 337, 12s. 8d. per annum. This state of things constitutes a grievance, which should no longer be submitted to. The practice is altogether unconstitutional, in as much as it amounts to the imposition of a tax without the authority of Parhament. The tax is also unjust in its principle, because it is laid on, without due regard to the means which the burghs have for paying it. It is also oppressive, because if the power exists at all in the Convention, it may be exercised to an indefinite extent. As the experience of past years leaves but little hope of relief from the Convention, the burghs of Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen, Dundee, and Perth, should apply to Parliament, for redress from a tax, which, in a burgh like Glasgow, is a public grievance, as the sum exacted for missive dues would otherwise be employed in local improvements; and from the foregoing considerations, it is presumed, that the Legislature would grant relief from that part of the tax which relates to levying monies for building, or improving harbouts, jails, &c. in particular burghs, leaving all such to the wisdom of Government, and the exertion of the local authorities. With regard to the necessary sum for conducting the legitimate duties of the Convention, the burghs should be entitled to vote in proportion to the sums they pay, and the power of the Convention in delegating authority, to a Committee of their number, to act with conventional powers, after the Convention has been dispersed, should be considerably restricted. "Among other grievances, the mode of nominating the Commissioners and Assessors should not be overlooked. At first, [March and for a long period after the Convention met at Edinburgh, the Representatives resided in the burghs which they represented; and in 1743, the better to strengthen this practice, the Convention enacted, That the Commissioners and Assessors should be men fearing God, and of the true Protestant religion, without suspicion to the contrary; Burgesses and Guildbrethren expert in the common affairs of the burgh; Merchants or Tradesmen, being inhabitants within the burgh, standing on the tax-roll of the burgh, and bearing part of the public burdens, who could tine and win in all their affairs;' and it was farther enacted, That if any person was sent to the Convention without these qualifications, the burgh who sent them should be fined in L. 10 Sterling, and the acceptor in L. 5, besides being disqualified.' These regulations, however wise and salutary, were set aside in July 1778. At that period, the Convention did statute and ordain, that persons living at a distance from the burghs they wish to represent, may be appointed Commissioners or Assessors on their subscribing the following declaration, viz. I, A. B. do solemnly declare, that I am really and truly proprietor of lands and houses to the value of 3000 merks Scots, (L. 116, 13s. 4d.) lying within the royalty of the burgh of C., for which I am chosen Commissioner, or have a superiority within the same to that value, and that my right or title is no ways nominal or ficti tious, and am willing to make oath to the truth of this declaration, if required.' By this flagrant alteration of the Constitution of the Convention, it is competent to the managers of distant burghs to send annual commissions to persons, residing at or near Edinburgh, to vote and act for them. At first sight, this alteration does not seem to affect or compromise the interests of the larger burghs, which send legitimate Commissioners to the Convention; but the matter assumes a different aspect, when, as is sanctioned by this system, a small, fishing, and otherwise insignificant burgh, at a great distance from Edinburgh, which has little or nothing to pay to the Convention, and still less to spend at the annual meeting in the metropolis, and therefore would not probably attend, nominates two gentlemen, very likely of some learned profes sion, to act as their Commissioner and Assessor. As these gentlemen may be, and are usually retained in office for a considerable time, they become expert in the laws of the Convention, and being qualified to collect and quote decisions, by which the burgh taxes have been sanctioned by the Court of Session, on the principle of inveterate usage, they naturally inHuence, against the larger burghs, the plain country Commissioner, whose burgh, like their own, has little to pay." pp. 44-50. 1 I AM MY BROTHER; A COMEDY, IN ONE ACT, TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF C. W. CONTESSA. [THE following translation of a little German after-piece will, we hope, be entertaining to our readers. We cannot but think that it places the genius of Germany in a more agreeable light than the horrific tragedies and mysterious tales of fatalism, with which the poets of that nation have been so long inundating the world. We are glad to find, indeed, that there is any one writer among them who will condescend to laugh in broad farce. What is the reputation of the author of this piece we cannot tell, nor has the ingenious friend who has so agreeably translated it, favoured us with any account of him. He shows himself, in some passages, particularly in the picture of Jealousy, which is very powerfully drawn, capable of a higher class of composition than he has here presented us with. But we should be very well pleased if the German authors, in general, would, for a season at least, follow his example, and endeavour to excite the mirth rather than the madness of their readers. The German mind is at this moment so moody and "highfantastical," and its fancies are so productive of extravagance and disorder, that the best thing to be done for it is to pinion it down, if possible, to common life, and to occupy it with the little eccentricities and humours of daily occurrence, rather than to give it its full flight in those fields of mysticism and metaphysics, in which it throws all the principles of plain morality aside, and, in the gloom in which it is enveloped, comes to brood upon nothing else but "treasons, stratagems, and spoils."There is too much of this cloudy character over all Europe at this moment. is the fit habitation for "the Prince of It the power of the air," and, while he reigns uncontrolled over them, he can persuade even perfidious assassins that they are acting the part of noble and heroic characters. This seems to be the feeling not only of that enthusiast Sandt about himself, but of a great portion of his raving countrymen concerning him; -he is their Brutus, forsooth! The wretch Louvel, too, in France, appears to have pretty much the same notion; and we have no doubt Thistlewood and his gang are at present solacing their prison-hours with such fine demoniac sentiments as these, -What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge-immortal hate, &c. There are too many Cassiuses in the world at this time, as Cæsar describes VOL. VI. that character in Shakespeare-men who would probably have been of a very different cast of mind, and much better members of society, if they had thought less, and laughed more. But we shall not detain our readers any longer from this little drama,-only adding, that we think it might have success upon our own stage; and we leave this hint to Mr Murray, who, after our reprobation of the spare Cassius," will not set us down among those who "love no plays."] 66 Dramatis Persona. ALBERT. N. B. SIRILLO wears in the First Scene a powdered wig; from the Eighth Scene onward a black one, resembling the natural hair, and a coat of the same colour with HEIMFELD's. SCENE I. The Scene a Drawing-Room, with two doors opposite to the spectators, and one side-door. In the fore-ground stand two tables, opposite to each other, and hung with cloth down to the floor.-ALBERT, and SIRILLO in a travelling-dress, are sitting and drinking at a table, on which there are some bottles. ́Al. Another glass, my worthy friend, to your good journey. Si. Yes, one more; but then it will be time to stop-my horse is standing at your gate. I wished to see my little bride once more, and you and these good friends upon the table have kept me here so long. Al. What nonsense! a dry parting never does there must be wine or tears, Sirillo: tears for lovers in their teens; for aged friends, old wine. One other glass-the autumnal air we have at present bears some drink;we're not to drink so soon again. Four weeks you think to be away? Si. Yes, three or four, just as my business lets me off. I'll make what haste I can, my friend; for all is fixed, you know, when I come back. Al. Yes, yes, my niece is your's, or I pay down three thousand dollars. All is fixed-you have my note of hand in your possession; it shall stand, and that in spite of all objec◄ Ff tions, for in every thing we do these women find objections; but for me, thank Heaven, I'm master in my house. Si. Another thing I have to say before I go. My brother writes me that he wishes to be present at my wedding, and knows nothing of the journey I am forced to take so much against my will; he, therefore, might arrive while I am absent Al. Well, my house is his till you come home. Si. That would be highly pleasing. True, indeed, my own Al. No, no, he lives with me: You only need to leave your orders that they bring him here when he arrives. Si. I have not seen the oddity for several years. There was a little dryness between him and me; but now he makes the first advances to a reconciliation. Al. That I like in him. Si. But if my worthy brother do not put a check upon his tongue, the peace will not be lasting. Al. Ah! how so? Si. O, it has always been his way to play the master. What does he advise me to in this same letter?-to delay, i'faith, my wedding for a week or two, and hold it on the day I'm fifty-one. Such silly stuff displeases me. (He drinks.)-What does that lordly brother mean? How? does he think a person turned of fifty is too old to marry? Al. All confounded nonsense, friend. When he comes here, he soon shall see, by my example, how foolishly he talks. I, too, was bordering on forty, when, at last, I ventured on the perilous spring into the married state; and, though I'm twice my Cary's age, you must confess I have no cause to rue the spring I took. But one must understand to train his wife, as I do. Si. What! I think I understand it just as well; and, with your leave, my friend, I seem to have observed a little low-toned jingle-jangling in your house at times. I know what women are-I know the sex. What will you wager that I beat you in the training of my wife? Al. Stop there, my friend; let wagering alone': if not, you won't succeed, and just because you wagerthere you're known to be unluckyha ha ha! Si. Dear fellow, do not give your self such airs, because you won our former bet. Your plan was far from being good, and it was rather complaisance in me than Al. Pshaw! pshaw ! it was no complaisance. Complaisance? the devil! No. Be pleased to recollect; the bet was Si. Well, yes, the bet was, which of us should most surprise the other. Al. Yes, and I surprised you soha! ha! ha!-I so surprised you, that your eyes gushed out. Si. Dear Mr Albert, you did not surprise me in the least-I only did not wish to spoil your sport-I am not caught with so much ease. Al. A trifle, dear Sirillo; yes, the easiest thing in nature. Si. No, the deuce! it is not, Mr Albert-'tis no trifle-it is not so easy. I am ready to renew the bet this moment-then it will be seen, if it is such a trifle. Al. You will lose again, my wellbeloved lamb. Si. My well-beloved lamb!-that will be seen. 1 now insist upon it that our wager be renewed. Al. Don't do it, pray; you will repent it. Si. Nay, I must insist upon it; and I bet, into the bargain, you will lose. Al. Well, if you will not change your mind, I'll let you have your way. But, still, to let you see how sure I am no art of yours will stand its ground with me, I bet, that, at the very moment you are ready to play off your fine surprise, I shall prevent you by a greater. Si. Ha ha! ha!-Friend Albert, you are bold; but I accept, to punish you. And now the stake? Al. I'll go for pen and ink; all the conditions shall be written down, that no evasions may find place hereafter. Si. Very well, do so. SCENE II. (Exit Albert.) SIRILLO, (alone.) Aha! a most delightful thought has just occurred to me.-(Lifting up his glass.)-Hail, thou inspiring li quor! How, if I delay my journey for another day, and, while they think me at a distance, play my brother here? That would give occasion for an excellent surprise. A change of dress,-a change of voice,-another wig, and then a little rouge upon SCENE III. Al. Well, then, sit down, and your defeat shall now be rivetted, (speaking and writing at the same time.) We, whose names are underwritten, have agreed upon a bet of―(aloud) bet of? Si. Twenty Louis d'or. Al. I think the half might do. Si. No, write down twenty Louis d'or, I tell you. Al. Well, with all my heart, (writing,) a bet of twenty Louis d'or, which shall be paid to him who shall the other most surprise, by him who suffers such surprise; and further, Albert binds himself, just at the moment when the undersigned Sirillo's ready to play off his great surprise, as may think it, to prevent him by a greater, and, if he (Albert) should fail, he will acknowledge he has lost. The space allowed to each to execute his plan shall be-? he Si. As I am going on a journey, you must give at least five weeks. Al. (writing,) It shall be so, five weeks from this day reckoned, (reads it over to Sirillo.) There now, sign your name. Ha, ha, ha. The twenty Louis d'or will relish well, (takes his glass.) Much luck, my friend Sirillo. Si. Ay, much luck and understanding too, to Mr Albert. (He drinks, they touch glasses, and both begin to laugh. ) Si. And I'll do it. Car. Tell us, pray, what have you wagered then? Al. Come here and read, (gives her the paper.) Si. (to Sophia) My sun is risen then at last; long have I hoped and waited. So. I am sorry for it-Tis so dark to-day! We shall have rain. Si. That does not signify, my little bride. If it is dark abroad, there's love within, and that keeps warmer than a cloak of fur. Al. (to his wife) Now, sign your name as witness. So. (to Sirillo) When do you set off? Si. This moment. I but wished to bid my bride once more adieu: Now that I do most tenderly, and shall delay no longer, for the sooner gone the sooner back. (to Albert) My dearest friend, 'tis now high time I most obedient. (to Sophia) In three gc-Farewell. (to Caroline) Your long weeks, my lovely angel, or, at most, in four, we'll meet again, if God permit. So. (with a sigh) Ah! yes, yes. Si. (kissing her hand Don't let the time seem long. So. Ah! no. Si. Once more I take my leave of all. (goes up again to Sophia) And listen, lovely pout, a few, few thoughts bestow on me. So. Ah! yes. to Albert) My worthy Sir, I almost Si. Adieu, adieu. (on going away feel as if my legs were doubtful. (turning once more about) All of you, once more adieu. Al. Dear fellow, I might almost say the same-the bet, I think, has mounted to our heads. (Exeunt, both laughing.) SCENE V. So. O that I never saw him more! Car. Poor man! I verily believe you would be pleased if Heaven, in mercy to you, sent upon him some misfortune. So. Aunt, you must confess my situation is most dreary. Car. What? A dreary situation! when you have a lover? So. It would seem my uncle is determined not to be gainsaid.. |