GLASGOW GOSSIP.

THE cognoscenti have, for some days, been peculiarly pleased with the beautiful collection of cast-iron works of art, which are now displayed in Mr. James Lumsden's warehouse, in Queen Street. The various busts, figures, and particularly the equestrian statue of Frederick the Great, prove to what a high pitch of perfection the art of casting has arrived at in Berlin. The latter statue gives a most characteristic idea of the celebrated soldier and philosophe. It is, in fact, a masterpiece of art, and is well worthy of a place in any collection. We understand Mr. Lumsden selected the various specimens, now exhibiting, when, on a tour through Germany, he visited the Königl: Eisengiesserei, or Royal Foundry, in the Prussian capital. We recommend to our Dilettanti an immediate sight of these casts. They are well worthy of examina

tion.

LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

We understand that the Geology and Zoology of CAPT. BEECHY, is about to be published.

SISMONDI has in the Press "Histoire de la Renaissance, de la Liberté en Italie, de ses Progrès de sa Décadence et de sa chute."

Professor ROSSETTI is about to publish a Work, Sullo Spirito Antipapale che produsse la Riforma, e sulla segreta influenza ch' esercito nella litteratura d' Italia, come risulta da molti suoi Classici, e specialmente da Dante, Petrarca, Boccaccio, Disquisizioni.

REMINISCENCES OF FEMALE EDUCATION.

THE following Boarding School Circular, for which we are indebted to an antiquarian friend, will show the various items of education, that were thought requisite about sixty years ago, to form what was considered an accomplished young lady. We question, but in real usefulness the system of Miss M'Donald and her friend Miss Drummond will stand a comparison with those of many of our modern seminaries.

GLASGOW, 15th May, 1771.

To the PUBLIC.

MISS M'DONALD and MISS DRUMMOND think it Proper to inform the Public, that they have opened a Boarding School for Young Ladies, in a large and commodious house in the Gallowgate, where the Young Ladies under their care are instructed in the principles of the French and English languages, in Tambour Dresden and all kinds of fashionable Needle work, in the making up their own millenary things and in several instruments of Music, viz. the Harpsicord, Guitar and Psaltery, as likewise in Singing, Miss M'DONALD proposes teaching the Ladies to write, and they will be attended with a proper Master for dancing. Miss M'DONALD and Miss DRUMMOND are very sensible that the charge of Education is both important and difficult, and they flatter themselves that they are not altogether unqualified for it. They can at least promise that they will exert their utmost endeavours to discharge their trust with fidelity and care, and upon these grounds, do they solicit and hope for the friendly countenance of the public.

A HACKNEY COACHMAN'S LIFE.

THE following little sprightly sketch of a Metropolitan JarveyDriver, we extract from a weekly periodical called the PARROT :— One would believe that the life of a hackney-coachman is a very extraordinary one. Not at all; it is the life of the fashionable company.

In the intervals of his fares, he has all the manners of the world.

He rises at the break of day; on putting on his jacket he goes to the stable door, looks what sort of weather it is. "The deuce take such a day," says he, gaping, "it is beautiful weather;" or else," Success! it will be, all day, devilish bad weather." Does not the publican say the same when he reads the papers? if there be a prospect of peace, he is suffocated: if of war, he rubs his hands with delight.

:

The coachman rubs down his horses, swearing; puts them to, threatening and goes to the stand, whipping. But his coach, which has no feeling, he cleans it, whistling. So it is in the world furniture is respected; servants are killed.

A citizen arrives at the stand: it is soon seen that he wants a coach. Six coaches go off full gallop to meet him. He takes the one with the best horses; but he takes it by the time and the coach can hardly crawl on. In the same manner men run after places, and fall asleep when in office.

The citizen pays a visit. In coming out he finds the horses unbridled and the coachman in the public-house. Is it not the same in offices? If the chief is absent a single moment, the clerk is so

too.

The hackney-coach is run against on the right by a waggon, but on the left it runs against a cab; system of compensation. Observe well the jostlings you receive and give, and you will see whether you do not act as hackney-coachmen.

As to his fares, it is clear that he goes only where one goes, and that one goes only where he drives to.

At nine o'clock he has to choose between the candidate of the Royal Institution who goes to distribute, in one hundred and forty-four visits, not the books he has written, but the prospectus of those he intends to write; and the broker who runs to offer paper for money and who asks money for paper.

At twelve o'clock, other business: a rendezvous for an affair of honour; a duel with swords or pistols.

At five o'clock, dinners; now is the time for hackney-coachmen to be in the city; they are sure of a fare to the west end. At eleven o'clock, the theatres close. Visits continue till twelve. Balls till one.

Gaming-houses all night.

"O. L. O.'s" communication has been received, and will appear immediately.

We have put the "Adventures of a Pair of Spectacles" into the hands of our own "Spectacles," for his perusal, who will perhaps take a glance at it in the course of a day or two.

"HOURS OF LEISURE, No. II." will appear on Saturday.

We have not received "Lines to a Robin Red Breast," and we must inform our correspondent that, although we had, we could not return it.

Primus's "Wild Conjured Phantom of the Brain” would, we suspect, rather terrify than interest our readers.

TALES, SKETCHES, AND TRADITIONS OF THE GAEL.-No. III.

CAÖLCHAIRN.

THE traveller, who crosses the country between Inveraray and Oban, will observe a beautiful lake, called Lochawe, of twenty-four miles in length, and about two in breadth; its waters are the accumulation of a thousand little tributary streams, which may be seen gushing down the sides of the lofty hills, with which it is almost encircled; and were the scenery on its picturesque shores eulogised by the pen of a Scott or a Moore, it would at least share the admiration which is bestowed on the boasted grandeur of Loch-Lomond and Loch-Catrine: if the first view of it is obtained from Monadh Lacanach, a hill above Glenary, nothing can be more irresistably striking; numberless islets, covered with trees of most luxuriant growth, stud its bosom, and rise above its surface in clustering profusion; Cruachan, with his crown of mist like an aged monarch, throws a venerable halo over the perspective: whereever the eye lights upon it, it meets verdure and fertility. Rockhill on the one side, and Hayfield on the other, seem to vie in their elegant improvements: even the cottage of the peasant, with its whitened windows, gives testimony of the blessings of civilization and intercourse; before his door is seen his little garden, with its fragrant blossoms or ripening fruit, smiling upon his industrious labours, while the joyful countenances, blooming with health and beaming with contentment, which reconnoitre the gazer as honest "Bran" announces his approach, forces us to the conclusion, that happiness is in a measure dependent on ourselves, and is confined to the cottage of industry as often as the palaces of the great.

On a small island about half a mile from the shore, stands Caölchairn Castle, in mouldering sadness. Before the introduction of artillery, it might be possessed of considerable strength, and although its now cheerless halls and blackened hearth furnish matter of little interest to the mere spectator, the lover of antiquity will feel a sacred awe, while with noiseless step he enters the portals, from which have often issued "heroes bold and ladies gay," and will feel his mind reverting to bygone years, when might usurped the throne of right, when justice was often strangled on the threshold of power, and when our Highlanders, blind to the advantage of enterprise and independence, were left a prey to the bewildering horrors of despotism and anarchy.

Few who have traced the history of their country two centuries back, but will recollect the cruel persecution to which the noble Macgregors were for years subjected, from a wealthy and powerful clan. They were reduced to the extremity of wretchednes, their lands were forfeited to an unholy faction, who had leagued together to extirpate their very name; they were hunted from hill to hill, and from glen to glen, few daring or caring to aid or protect them, the heath became their couch, the canopy of heaven their covering, the mountain eagles their companions, and their swords their only friends; and, finding every ear deaf to their tale, every avenue to redress shut up, we need not wonder that their actions were at times characterised by cruelty, when they found an opportunity to retaliate on their barbarous oppressors.

Among this heroic, though proscribed clan, there was one, whose arm was seldom idle, and whose blade was often dim. Gregair Glun-dubh* had never led his followers but to victory, and even then, though a homeless fugitive, the well-known blast of his horn could summon together two hundred undaunted heroes, on whose unbending souls the rod of their tyrants had failed to make impression; but, finding force of no avail, he daily diminished their number. Some, under feigned names, sought shelter under those very men whose cruelty had deprived them of the means of using their own; while others penetrated farther into the recesses of the Highlands, and bade a lingering adieu to the hills of their childhood, and, at the time when the following incident commences, Gregair was wandering on the shores of Lochawe, with a retinue of twelve faithful adherents, who had served him in his prosperity, and from whom adversity could not sever

them.

Foremost among the ruthless association for the destruction of the Macgregors, stood the powerful Earl of Breadalbane.† He had been allied to the Colquhouns, on whose account the persecution began, and therefore felt an interest in avenging them; but there was another reason, which had equal weight with him. He had participated largely of the unhallowed spoil, and, in order to secure it, had added murder to rapine; consequently, he became an object of the fellest hatred to those who were entitled to look upon him as their deadliest foe, and the dread of his power. prevented them from taking any open measures. No private opportunity was left unimproved, in which they could wreak their hatred on his property or his partizans. Some cabinet business, of pressing importance, having forced the Earl to leave the country, as a greater security to his only daughter, who was betrothed to his kinsman of Argyle, he left her at Caölchairn Castle, in charge of a small party of confidential vassals, with strict injunctions not to leave the island, or admit a stranger, till his return. Gregair was apprised of the Earl's absence, and instantly repaired to Lochawe, where, for a day, he concealed himself in the woods, hoping that some of the inmates of the Castle would have the temerity to break through the commands of the Earl; but he waited in vain, and, impatient to finish his enterprise, he took the desperate resolution of swimming across, which, having accomplished, he unmoored one of the boats, landed his followers at night, and, as the inmates, from the precautions they had taken, dreaded no attack, they were easily surprised, and the Castle was taken and plundered with scarcely a blow of resistance. When the Earl was made aware of the loss he had sustained, he posted home in the greatest haste, breathing vengeance against the perpetrators; but his rage knew no bounds when he understood that Gregair's visit would, in a few months, probably, make an addition to his fading clan, that his family was dishonoured, that his daughter would soon be a mother. A price was set on the outlaw's head, every measure was taken, which ingenuity could adopt or power accomplish, to bring himself and accomplices to punishment; but the vigilance of the Macgregor baffled every pursuit. If they were a small

party, he attacked and routed them; if a large, he retired to fastnesses, where, to follow him was destruction, from which he often sallied against his pursuers, and few returned to tell the tale of their unhappy comrades' fate.

Ewen Roy Cameron, a noted freebooter, through some quarrel with his chief to whom he rendered important services, left his native Lochaber and settled in the wilds of Rannoch; to him the Earl was advised to apply under his distressing emergency. A messenger was instantly dispatched, and few days had elapsed when the "Cameron's gathering" announced, that he had arrived with twelve of his clansmen and waited the Earl's commands. The business was soon told him; countless wealth and numberless advantages were promised him, provided he accomplished the capture of Macgregor; he, on the other hand, set forth the peril of the undertaking. However, to satisfy the Earl, he would attempt the task, having first bound him under a promise, that if successful, whatever boon he would ask would, on no account, be denied. He instantly set out with his followers in search of his powerful adversary, and, after several days' fruitless labour, had notice, that, with a small party of men, he was lodged in a little inn near Callender, in Perthshire, at which he arrived and sought accommodation for the night for himself and his men. The only room in the house was in possession of the Macgregors. The landlord, therefore, went to inquire if they would object to additional company. Gregair instinctively grasped his dirk and sternly asked what their number was; being told there was thirteen, he looked round upon his men with a chieftain's pride, "we are the same here," said he, "admit them, the thirteen are not born whom the Macgregors need fear." For a time, the courteous manner of the strangers belied any hostile intention, and, it was not till after they had pledged each other repeatedly from the sligechreachainn, or drinking-shell, that Cameron laid his hand on Macgregor's shoulder and told him he was a prisoner. As may be expected, this step was instantly resented; however, with the exception of the leaders of the parties, the others kept their seats, each, with anxious eye, watching the different motions of their respective champions, in whose personal prowess both were equally confident, but the struggle did not last long, Gregair was obliged to yield to the superior strength of his rival, but, having pledged his honour that he would not attempt to escape, he was instantly unhanded, and, once more, seated beside his confiding conqueror.

Ewen Roy did not hesitate to inform him of the errand on which he had sped so well; a deadly paleness sat, for a moment, on Gregair's cheek, but it instantly gave way to a proud determination.

"I am

your prisoner," said he, "but I did not think that Scotland could produce the man who could master Gregair; fate has not ordained that he has fallen into the hands of Ewen Roy Cameron from Rannoch." "Then, replied the other, you see before you Ewen Roy, who never yet met a foe on dishonourable terms." Next morning both dismissed their followers and set out for where Gregair was ushered into the presence of the haughty Earl. "You are there, Macgregor," said he, gazing on him like the vulture about to pounce on his prey, "thou art seized at last, and thy weight of gold will not procure thy liberation." The proud bearing of the Earl seemed to give the prisoner little uneasiness; his glances of scorn were answered by a look of stern defiance, and the only emotion appeared was, the proud curl of his lip as the domestics were ordered to lead him away to execution. "Hold," said Cameron, "ere you remove him I first crave my boon." "Name it, my brave fellow," said the Earl, "and it is instantly granted." All present were fixed in breathless suspense; riches and distinction were at his command, but, when these are placed in the scales with honour, the High

lander shrinks from the unequal comparison! "Macgregor's pardon" was the boon, and the Earl, finding he could not retract his word, could only say, "'tis given," waved his hand to the parties to retire, and, with the weight of conflicting passion, he fell senseless on the floor.

Gregair afterwards distinguishd himself in the general turn-outs which distracted the country; he lived to old age, and it is hoped to regret the barbarous traits which stain the history of his earlier years.

LITERARY CRITICISM.

PROBATION, AND OTHER TALES. By the Author of "Selwyn in Search of a Daughter, "Tales of the Moors," &c.-Adam Black, Edinburgh, 1832.

THE tale which is announced in this title, by the name of "Probation," is certainly an interesting one; and, for that reason, it will please the generality of readers. We confess, for our own part, that we are a little puzzled to account for its power in affecting the mind, as we cannot discover any merit which it possesses, except the drawing of character. In this one respect, it certainly does excel in a measure which may be conceived, when we say that, with defects which nothing but the highest talent could redeem, this narrative is even rendered agreeable, by the interest with which it invests the persons introduced in it. The portrait of the warm-hearted old maid, Mrs. Sidney Hume, is one that no ordinary writer could have designed or painted with such nature and expression. Her social conversation and parental manner are so strikingly charac teristic, that the reader fancies her smiling before him in every page, and cannot help participating in the wish that he could testify his affection for her, by a filial embrace. The young and handsome Pauline Clitheroe, in like manner, pleases without any attempt to please; and her modest and winning behaviour enchants the imagination so completely, that it pictures to itself the graces of her person and the charms of her countenance, with very little help from the describer. The hero himself, Mr. Edmund Meredith, is a youth who claims the attention with no bad grace, and into whose success in love, we enter with an interest somewhat akin to his own. In pursuing him through life, however, we are too frequently struck with improbabilities, which jar with our sympathies, and remind us that the tale which we are perusing is no more than a faulty creation of the mind.

The author of "Probation" has certainly laid himself under great disadvantages, in endeavouring to make more of his story than it would warrant : for the incidents with which he has filled it up are far from being successfully connected. He probably thought that the history of a foundling, who inherits great riches, and, after being a spendthrift, is changed to a virtuous man, by the influence of love, was not sufficient of itself to furnish materials for a novel, and he has therefore endea voured, by collecting a number of extraordinary occurrences, to relieve the tameness of his narrative, and to keep the mind of the reader occupied with some strong excitement. For this purpose, he makes his hero be miraculously preserved from drowning, at a shipwreck, by a sailor, in whose house he is educated till he is again marvellously saved from death by a lady, who turns out to be his grandfather's widow. Through her he becomes rich, and requites his own escapes by similar good turns. First of all, he saves a lady, with whom he afterwards falls in love, from being killed in the upsetting of a coach. After that, he accidentally saves a mysterious old gentleman from being burnt, whom he accidentally finds to be connected with his family: And, finally, he accidentally saves from starvation the old sailor who had accidentally saved him from drowning. These are but specimens of the marvellous spirit with which the book is throughout embued. Many of the other rencontres are equally absurd; such as that which attends Mr. Peregrine

Palmer's arrival at Dover. It is needless, however, to be more specific, as the author seems himself to be aware of his blunder, when he talks of one of the adventures alluded to in this manner :

It is of a nature so uncommon and melo-dramatic, that, unless the reader good-naturedly proceeds on a principle long since adopted by myself, viz. that of setting down for facts all circumstances in a narrative too improbable for fiction, I don't see how I can expect to be believed.

What are we to think of a declaration like this, in what is professedly a work of fiction!

An objection, equally great, which lies against the unity of the story, consists in this-that several characters are introduced who have no connection with the fortunes of the hero, and who, after being paraded on the stage for such a short time as merely to excite curiosity, are dismissed without auy further notice. There is, indeed, a great want of an underplot in this tale, as those persons, who do not figure in the denouement, seem to have very little business in the book. We should be inclined, for this reason, to rescind that passage where the episode of the Rannoch cottagers appears; and if the author does not consent to give some account of the destinies of Roger Falconer and the heiress of Castle-Moray, we should be as well pleased to see these characters, amiable as they are, altogether omitted. To say the truth, the book seems so crowded with persons who have nothing to do there, except to claim a passing attention, and so overloaded with scraps of different stories-nay, so much increased, by narratives introduced without any connection with the principal one—that it seems to have been the great aim of the author to endeavour, by every means, to swell out his work into a bulky volume. If, instead of indulging this preposterous ambition, he had confined himself to simple details, like Goldsmith or Mackenzie, we are confident that he would have gained more upon the sympathies of his readers.

We are not inclined to attribute these defects to any want of talent; for we are convinced that the author of this volume is a man of very high powers. Some of his descriptions, which are intended to illustrate character, are exceedingly good, and the scenes which he has drawn at Glen-Falconar, as well as some passages in the dialogue, are apt to remind us of Waverley. The style in which the book is written is unusually free from the affectation so apparent in most modern writers; but, to oppose this, it is, in some instances, obscure, and occasionally ungrammatical. For the amusement of our readers we shall pick out a few sentences, which, either by their cumbersomeness or bad arrangement, will shew how liable even a practised writer is to fail in mastering the accuracies of our tongue.

We begin with the Introduction, which, as it is the first specimen of an author's powers that meets the reader's eye, is generally supposed to concentrate all his abilities. Does the writer of the following_sentences suppose, that the vague and metaphysical generalities in which they abound, are half as expressive as plain English?

If it be asked why, amid a redundance of fictions of the most splendid and spirit-stirring description, the following simple pages were written, criticism may be disarmed by the reply of affection, that they were written, because every effort of memory, however superfluous, and every touch of the pencil, however feeble, which recalled to the eye of fancy their delightful subject, was a source of positive gratification. Their publication has been dictated by a kindred motive, viz. : the hope that one whose element and vocation it was, during three quarters of a century, to do good-might perchance be made, even now when unhappily no more, to contribute indirectly to the same benevolent purpose.

If one flower, however dim and scentless, shall have heen added to the chaplet of departed worth, or one alleviation, however trifling, purchased for the ills of surviving penury, the author's unpretending object will have been attained.

We might produce one or two instances of awkward construction, or of sentences beyond the standard length, and we might ask the author what he meant by such phrases as "threatening a fever," (vide p. 76); but, as we do not wish to be hypercritical, we

shall merely take notice of those passages which offend against the statutes of Horne Tooke, or Lindley Murray.

At page 47, we remark the following sentence:—

The whole details of the single combat à l'outrance, waged by spendthrift heirs with Father Time, being as familiar to all classes of readers as, thanks to Sir Walter-they have now become with those of the joust and tournay of olden days, I spare myself a blush, and the reader a yawn, by leaving them henceforth to his imagination.

Any one acquainted with the rules of grammar perceives, that the pronoun they, properly refers here to the subject of the sentence, and that, in opposition to the author's meaning, it would read, if printed fully,

66

as familiar to all classes of readers, as, thanks to Sir Walter the details have now become with those of the joust and tournay of olden days," &c.

Obscurity is the predominant feature in our next quotation, which we make from page 75.

I rose at least two hours sooner than I had done since my accident, or than any usual habits when in health, and awaited in a state of great excitement the summons to change a scene, which had begun to pall grievously on my senses.

Who were his usual habits? we may ask. He might have risen earlier than his domestics, but, to talk of rising earlier than "his habits when in health," is absurd.

Again, what is the author's idea of time, when he says, two pages further on,

About an hour after breakfast, I heard on the stairs, the wellknown step and joyous prattle of Mrs. Clitheroe ; and when, with her usual foreign frankness, she tendered her arm to conduct me to the sitting room, I never was more excited by handing a celebrated beauty to the top of a dance at the race ball.

He means to say, that "he never was more excited by handing a celebrated beauty to the top of a raceball, than when Mrs. Clitheroe, with her usual frank. ness, tendered her arm to conduct him to the sitting room." But, instead of this, he has made the hero hand the beauty at the race ball and be conducted by Mrs. Clitheroe both at the same time; for, if the members of the sentence be transposed, they will stand in the same order, and convey a meaning just as good as this, "I never was more happy in Tartary, when I was in London."

By removing from her father's roof, while yet unable to travel, a pretext was at once afforded for a temporary residence in the town, without betraying my latent attachment.

In vain we enquire, where is the subject to which the participle removing and the adjective unable refer? It would have made sense in this way, "By remov ing from her father's roof, &c. I had a pretext, &c."

The volume contains, besides Probation, two short stories, in one of which Selwyn is at last fitted with a wife. They are written with considerable talent.

In concluding our notice, we beg those readers who may think that we have been less indulgent to the volume criticised, than the reputation of its author warranted, to consider, that it is only upon works, which indicate talent one way or other, that we bestow any attention, and that our strictures are intended to promote the object which we have always in view, the improvement and diffusion of taste in literature.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

CHARADE FOR THE LADIES.

My first, all ladies study much,
Tho' changing as the summer weather;
Yet always found in lofty halls,
Where beaus and belles may meet together.
My second-pray, excuse the theme-
Is where the animals reside,
Unseemly to the eyes of all,

Offensive to the Hebrew's pride.
My whole adorns the British fair,
The noblest jewel they can wear,
The ornament of all the sex,
Which ever lovely will appear.

CELEBS AND CLARISSA.

In our number of Monday last, we hinted that our friend Celebs was making interest in certain quarters, in order to obtain an interview with our fair correspondent Clarissa, and in consequence we have this day received the following polite card from the lady. Though she seems extremely indifferent as to the uneasiness she may have occasioned the gentleman, and very coolly (we would almost say unfeelingly) hands him over to any other lady who may be inclined to listen "to all he's got to say;" still there is a secret something, in the female heart, that strongly inclines it to the side of mercy. Before however hazarding our opinion, how

far Clarissa's heart may be of this description, we shall consult Aunty Pyet on the affair, as it was on her authority we ventured to give the report, respecting Cœlebs, a place in "Cupid's Register." Since writing the above, we have opened a parcel of communications, sent us by our publisher, among which we observe, a letter from the gentleman himself. We regret, however

that our limits will not permit of its appearing in our present number, as we have a respect for both.

To the Editor of THE DAY.

CLARISSA is happy to observe that her epistle has led Celebs to entertain such favourable sentiments towards one at least of her sex; and if it inclines him, "albeit, unused to the melting mood," to take compassion on one of the many fair ladies, whom his amiable manners and appearance has so deeply captivated, she will have reason to congratulate herself, on her labours not having been in vain. As to herself, she is so completely enveloped in "the mantle of indifference," that, even having touched the heart of the invincible Calebs, cannot induce her to throw it aside. She has every reason, however, to trust, that the impression she has made will have no serious effect upon him;

For Heaven be thanked, we live in such an age,
When no man dies of love, but on the stage.

Monday Morning.

DEATH OF GENERAL WOLFE.

THE following account of the last moments of this distinguished Officer is extracted from Mr. JAMES'S "Memoirs of Great Commanders," just published. We will probably take an early opportunity of noticing this interesting and pleasing work by the author of " Darnley."

"The enemy approached steadily and quickly, firing as they came up; but, according to the general order, the British troops reserved their fire till the distance between the armies was narrowed to forty yards, when pouring it rapidly into the French line, they threw the advancing columns into some confusion. At that moment Wolfe gave the order to charge, and was leading on the Louisburg Grenadiers to attack the enemy with the bayonet, when he received a wound in his wrist, to which he paid no farther attention than by wrapping his handkerchief round it. An instant after, however, a second shot passed through his body; and before he fell, a third entered his right breast. He dropped immediately, and was carried insensible to the rear. The troops

still pressed on, and General Monkton, the second in command, who was leading on another regiment of Grenadiers, fell severely wounded a moment after. The French wavered; and while their officers were making immense exertions to keep them to their ground, Montcalm was killed in the centre of the line. Nearly at the same moment each of the British regiments closed with their adversaries. The bayonets of the Grenadiers drove the enemy in confusion down the slope; the Scotch regiments threw away their muskets and drew their broad-swords; the French dispersed in every direction, and the cry, They run! They run echoed over the field.

་

"Wolfe had lain without speech, and he though apparently revived from time to time, yet he never raised his head, and scarcely had animation returned for an instant before he again fainted away. At the moment when the French were finally put to flight, however, he was lying seemingly insensible: but at that cry They run! they run!' his eyes opened, and looking up, he demanded eagerly, Who run?'

"The French!' was the reply; they are in full flight down the hill.' 'Then, I thank God,' said the General, I die contented; and with those words upon his lips General Wolfe expired."

LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

"PRINCIPLES of Astronomy," by WILLIAM BRETT, M. A. Fellow of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, is in the Press. "Richard of York, or, the White Rose of England,” an Historical Novel, is about to be published.

The "Adventures of Barney Mahoney, by T. CROFTON CROXER, Esq., will shortly appear.

DISCOVERY OF H. STEPHEN'S NOTES TO CICERO.

A FEW weeks ago we noticed the discovery of a valuable Greek commentary by Stephens, in the Vienna Library. Another discovery, equally interesting to the literary world, has been made in a library at Orleans, where a folio edition of Cicero, (that printed by Charles Stephens in 1555,) with a broad margin, full of notes, signed by Henry Stephens, has been brought to light. On one of its leaves appears the name of "John," which is conjectured to be the handwriting of John Scapula, the faithless clerk in H. Stephens' service, who plundered his employer of the Treasury of the Greek Tongue.' This curious book was obviously destined for a reprint of a complete edition of Cicero's works; the same of which Stephens makes mention in the preface to his Castigationes in quamplurimos locos Ciceronis,'-a work which, however, was never brought before the public. Sixty pounds have been already offered for the Cicero in question; but the owner demands ninety-six (2400 francs,) and intends to present a tithe of that sum to the hospital at Lyons, where Henry Stephens closed his eyes.-Athenæum.

MISCELLANEA.

CRABBE, the Poet, whose death we recently announced, left behind him, quite finished, a rural poem of great beauty and simplicity, which is now in the hands of Mr. Murray. Few poets, of the present or of the last centuary, have been more generally read or better understood than Crabbe. Surely it would be extremely desirable to publish an uniform, complete, and cheap edition of the whole, to appear periodically in volumes, after the plan of Lord Byron's works, especially if the edition was got up with equal neatness, both of printing and embellishments, and published at as cheap a rate.

Good breeding is indeed an amiable and persuasive thing: it beautifies the actions and even the looks of men.

But equally

odious is the grimace of good breeding. In comparison with this, bluntness is an accomplishment. The ape of a well-bred man is just as offensive as the well-bred man is agreeable: he is a nuisance to his acquaintance. I am frighted at the affected smile, and the apish shrug. When these foul copies of courtiers throw their civil grin in one's face, it is as much as one can do to avoid spitting in theirs. A starched rogue, forcing smiles, is a more hideous sight than a mummy. He is a fugitive from nature; and it is notable impudence in such a creature to pretend to be courteous. -Gordon.

THE HUNCHBACK FAMILY.-An individual at Antwerp gave a supper to 40 poor hunchbacks. He awarded a premium of 60 florins to him whose hunch was the most prominent, and who was also proclaimed "king of the feast." Carriages were sent to bring the guests from their residences, and convey them back again when the festivities were concluded. They enjoyed the dance till a late hour in the night, and returned home highly gratified with the kindness and generosity of their new Amphytrion. -Belgian Paper.

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

THE Stanzas on the Death of Lord Byron's Mary, subscribed "Z," were misdirected. They have now reached us; but, from the cursory glance we have given them, it is our belief, they will not do for The Day.

We will endeavour to find room in our Monday's number, for another Chapter from Baillie Pirnie's Memoirs.

"MORAL POETS OF GREAT BRITAIN, No. III. Jeremy Taylor, D. D." on Saturday.

"A SOLEMN CONCEIT," by the Author of "Wake, Lady, Wake,' will appear shortly,