Page images
PDF
EPUB

ORIGINAL POETRY.

ate.

THE GRACES ALTOGETHER

(From an Old Manuscript.) All her good children, nature hath inclin'd, T'aspire to full perfection, in their kinde ; Therefore, she makes each thing, soine good to love, That being had, that good may better prove : Yet, in their choice of good, they often err, And seeing good, before time-good preferre. But, let us see, if we can choose the thing, That, to our sex, doth most perfection bring.

many others of their kind not less devoted, though more fortun

Foy's grave is covered with Admiration's offerings, and the death-bed of Ney is noted by want of note. He had a grave here a handsome one-but it was removed ; this is paltry. Some stone might have been awarded to his memory, with a fitting epitaph ; for, if he deserved death, he died nobly and like a soldier. His political offence had been punished, nor was it generous to with. hold from him, afterwards, the honour due to his military talents.

-Sketches by a Travelling Architect.

MISCELLANEA.

OF BEAUTIE.

Our perfect'st crown is made of beautie's flowers,
Which, of itself, supplies all other dowers ;
Women excell the perfectest man in this,
And, therefore, herein, their perfection is.
We, for the beautie, Heav'n itself admire,
Fair fields, fair houses, gold and pearls desire ;
Beautie doth always health and youth implie-
Beautie delights the noblest sense—the eye.

OF WIT.

Beautie delights the sense, but wit the reason,
Wit lasts an age, and beautie but a season ;
The sense is quickly cloy'd with beauties taste,
But wit's delight still quick and fresh doth last;
Beautie, weake eyes with her illusion blinds,
Wit conquers spirits and triumphs ovre minds;
Dead things have beautie, only men have wit,
And men's perfection doth consist in it.

OF WEALTH.

Wit will want matter, beautie ornament,
If wealth doe want which is omnipotent;
Wealth is a power which passeth nature farre,
W’ealth makes a goose, a swan, a spark, a starre ;
Wealth on a cottage can a palace build,
New paint old walls, and rotten timbers guild;
Not a faire face, but fortune's fair I crave ;
Let me want wit, so I foole's fortune have.

Nature had bestowed on Burke, a boundless imagination, aided by a memory of equal strength and tenacity. His fancy was so vivid, that it seemed to light up by its powers, and to burn, without consuming the aliment on which it fed; sometimes bearing him away into ideal scenes, created by his own exhuberant mind; and from which he sooner or later returned to the subject of de bate, descending from bis more aerial flights, by a gentle and im. perceptible gradation, till he again touched the ground.— Wraxall.

In this meane time, was guid peace and rest in Scotland, and great love betwixt the King, (Jas. IV.) and his subjects. So that he would ride out through any part of the realme, him alone, unknowin that he was the king, and would ligge in puir mene's huises, as he had bein ane travelloure through the countrie, and would require of them quhair the king was, and quhai ane man he was, and qubat they spoke of him through the countrie. So that by these answers, the king heard the common truth of himself.

There are many things tbat, in themselves, have nothing traly delighting : on the contrary, they bave a good deal of bitterness in them; and yet, by our perverse appetites after forbidden objects, are not only ranked among the pleasures, but are made even the greatest designs of life.Sir Thomas More.

There is a certain warmth of gratitude, which not only acquits us of favour received, but even, while we are repaying our friends what we owed, makes them our debtors.—Rochefoucault

. When thou sittest down to table, offer up thy prayers—when thou partakest food, pour forth thy thanks to him from wborn that food proceedeth. If thou callest in the aid of wine, to sustain thy drooping strength, oh, think on him who bade the vine to tourish, that it might cheer thy heart, and alleviate thy pains.St. Basile.

FINE ARTS.- Nothing can be further from striking or violent expression than the face of the Venus of Medici : but its physiognomy is so sweet, so intelligent; its beauty seems so perfectly the mirror of a celestial mind, that though at the first glance it apo pear mere corporeal beauty, yet, when accurately contemplated, it seems animated with the intellects of a superior being.- Sir J. E. Smith.

The Three EMBLEMS or UNCERTAINTY.-In some dull and ill written letters by one Wickford, a singular passage occurs. Speaking of English politics and the approach of the Princess from England to Holland, to espouse William the Stadholder, he observes, “ but this depends upon three things very uncertain, viz. : -the wind, a woman's will, and a British parliament.”

OF VERTUE.

Yet, these perfections, most imperfect be,
If there be wanting vertue's modesty;
Vertue's aspect wold have the sweetest grace,
If we could see, as we conceive her face.
Virtue guides wit with well affected will,
Which, if wit want, it proves a dangerous ill ;
Virtue gets wealth, with her good government,
If not, she's rich, because she is content.

CHURCH ANNOYANCES.”

Mr. Day,-I have read your “ Church Annoyances," and I am surprised at two being left out: the first, —-rising to let people above you ; second,-talking in church, not only to persons in the same pew, but in other pews, even after the minister has appeared in the pulpit, and again as soon as the blessing is pronounced.

D. L. D. Edinburgh, March 6.

PERE LA CHAISE.

EPITAPH IN A COUNTRY CHURCH.YARD. Life's like an Inn where travellers stay : Some only breakfast and away. Others for dinner stay, and are full fed ; The oldest only sup and go to bed. Long is his bill wbo lingers out the day : Who goes the soonest has the least to pay.

me,

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Mn.'s, “ Red Warrior,” according to the rules which Petrarch bas laid down, is misnamed a Sonnet, and at the bands of our Poetical Critic, in its author's own words, “an awful death bath found !"

" Mademoiselle MarryMe,” will grace our columns when we have rooin.

“ Cyrus's" Poem is excellent, but it is too long for our columns.

This,” said I tn a young French woman who accompanied

“is laid out in a manner much more coincident with our notion of good landscape gardening than your boasted Tuileries.” “ Doubtless,” said she,—"and the grave-stones, t00,—are they not objects more suited to your sober eye and pensive miod, than the fashionable and over-smiling demoiselless who so constantly intrude themselves upon your attention in the latter ?”—“ By no means," I replied,—" yet, surely you must allow that the dead inhabit the most beautiful spot in the suburbs of Paris.”

Shops for the sale of funeral wreaths and tomb-stones announce your approach to this charming cemetry, where every idea of the corruption working below, is suppressed by the sight of the fresh beauty which blooms above. The earth, inclosing the decayed remnants of mortality, is yet enamelled with the gayest flowers, and tufted with vigorous ever-greens. Here are elegant tombs, and sarcophagi telling us of their lamented inmates, chaplets, from the hand of surviving Affection, scattered around, with violets and heart's-ease springing from every grave.

An occasional walk in such a place, with all its just “appliances,” must do us a world of good. Here, we have hints, gentle and not to be misunderstood, with sermons given in a way the least hurtful to our vanity, the most salutary to our morals. The eulogies carved by Friendship’s hand on the monuments of deceased worth, in appearing before us, ask us to deserve them. Here are lessons, tending to make husbands constant, wives affectionate, and children dutiful; while an external pleasantness wins ús to the notice of them, and shrouds from our weakness, the terror of death. Abelard and Eloise are here enshrined, with, perhaps,

All communications for the Editor of The Dar" are requested to be left with the Publisher, Mr. John Finlay, No. 9, Miller Street.

Published, every Morning, Sunday excepted, by Joun Finlay, at

No. 9, Miller Street ; and Sold by John Wylie, 97, Argyle Street; David ROBERTSON, and W. R. M.Phun, Glasgow; Thomas Stevenson, and the other Booksellers, Edinburgh : David Dick, Bookseller, Paisley : A. Laing, Greenock; and J. Glass, Bookseller, Rothsay.

PRINTED BY JOHN GRAHAM, MELVILLE PLACE.

THE DAY ,

A MORNING JOURNAL OF LITERATURE, FINE ARTS, FASHION, &c.

CARPE DIEM.

GLASGOW, MONDAY, MARCH 12, 1832.

OLD NEWS.

be “out of our pale," especially since your unmerited

extrusion by these rascally French Radicals ;-which, [The following lively epistle, from a valued corres

by the way, puts me in mind, that M- had the pondent in the Modern Athens, we insert without a

good fortune to be acquainted with Charles X. and single syllable of comment. It will speak for itself.]

several of his suite, either he himself, or, at least,

some one nearly connected with him, had the honour, To the Editor of Tue Day.

during his first sojourn at Holyrood, of very unrestrictSIR,_"Was I to blame, 0, Athenians ! for having ed intercourse, and, of course, had a host of anecdotes given you one happy day?" was the reply which saved with which he used to amuse his friends : of these, the the slave who had spread the false report of a victory following is one which he did not tell, but which I shall The Athenians computed the day's enjoyment as take the liberty to communicate as eminently character. enough, at least, to detract from the cruel disappoint- istic of the author of the “ Ordonnances." He could ment he had caused; and, if this could take place amid get no sleep for a night or two in consequence of the the reckless gaiety of an Athenian democracy, how howling of a dog belonging to one of his neighbours much more, in this bleak north-western corner, do we, of the sanctuary “ce diable de chien," he said, Allez wbose every day brings the too sure tidings of defeats le tirer.” His servant went and demanded the dog for from sickness, poverty, old age, and, finally, from the

destruction, when the owner, a sturdy Scot, gave him “fell sergeant" death, who is sure to be a general,” this pithy answer—“Ye may tell the Count (D'Arbefore he dies; how much, I say, do we not owe to

tois) frae me, that if he was the King o' France, aye, those who come among us, as the cheering ministers of

or the King of England, he daurna lay a finger on mirth and laughter--loving gaiety, whose very coun

my doug.

This being duly reported, Ma foi," said tenances are, like the glad tidings of a victory over mis

the Prince, in amazement, “ Voici un royaume, qui chance and woe ; what, though care do come behind, s'appelle libre, on ne peut pas tirer sur un chien ;" they can bid him wait, and, imposing their own portly an admirable pendant this to Jonathan's, “a pretty land and well-endowed corporations betwixt us and the of liberty, where a man can't larrop his own nigger.” “ fell despiteous fiend,” can, at least, prevent our see

However, the old gentleman, like his respectable predeing him till their departure; and what, perhaps, is cessor, the Tyrant of Syracuse and Pedagogue of Cobetter than all, these worthies seldom take their leave rinth, however he may be thought to have acted in without asking leave to come again. Of such, among France, has, at least in Scotland, comported himself the foremost, was my friend Mr. M

Peace to with the quiet dignity of cheerful resignation in adhis ashes, and may his merry ghost preside, for ever, versity, and, although seemingly averse to old debts in some snug coterie of the “good society" at the and new duns, is, at least, by no means averse, to reBlythswood Hill end of the Elysian Fields; peace, I

new acquaintances of a less important nature. My say, and praise to his memory, for he, indeed,

friend M-was, therefore, early advertised, that “ Could cheat us of our griefs,

“ His Most Christian Majesty” would be rejoiced to And bid abasbed despondence stand aside."

see him presented at the Court of St. Germains, I He was, indeed, a hearty fellow; cracked a good joke, should rather say Holyrood. By the bye, I believe the sung a better song, and was the very best raconteur in

invitation was given about the same time that Mademoiour community ; his memory was most minute and re- selle, the only sister of Henry V. as he will be when he tentive, and his descriptions perfectly graphic, while he

“ Claims all his claims, and bas his claims allowed.” was so admirable a mimic, that you instantly forgot came into his shop in Street, and presented him the narrator and had before you the actual living, with a miniature of her mother, (the Queen Mother breathing, talking subject of the tale. Mathews might I was going to say,) the Duchess De Berri. I shall have learned, and I believe did learn, a good deal from never forget the smile of exultation with which M. him. I shall never forget the exquisite mode in which used to exhibit this picture, (a trumpery daub it was he pourtrayed the stiff, heavy, costive delivery of the too,) nor the joyous glee with which he used to mimic following clerical pun, which the perpetrator himself the infantine voice of the charming little Princess, as stared at, as an unwonted, unauthorized intruder :- the fairy tales say, in repeating her presentation adThe Rev. Dr. - had engaged a brother to dress of " Ah, Mr. M- -, you must not think this so preach for bim on a rainy Sunday morning ; the sub- pretty as mamma; it is very like inamma a long time stitute, a thorough moderate, in every thing but the ago, when mamma, very litle girl, far away in Naples ; duration of his discourses, arrived, dripping and de- mamma look far much better now ; when you shall see jected, and, meeting his brother in the Vestry, groan- her, you shall say so too." Well, as I was saying, to ed out, “ Och, Doctor! whare can I gang to dry me ?" Court he went, arrayed ap à pie, selon les regles, was “ 'Deed, Doctor,” responded the other, “ first gang admitted, marched boldly up stairs to the anti-chamyour ways up to the pulpit, ye'll be dry enough ber, and presented his card and credentials, (the card, there."

I believe, of the Duc de the Lord or lacquey in M-, like all other good hearted “sweet sooth- waiting, he knew not which, received them with the ers of our cares," was of the good old Tory school ; air of a Swiss “ Mousquetaire,” and with all the cerenone of your growling Radicals, or sulky Whigs; he monious civility of the ancien regime," requested him agreed with Sir Walter and all the other public men, to wait an instant, and he would communicate within. of whom Scotland really has reason to be proud, “ I now began to quake,” said my friend,

66 and still that, if Reform be a good thing, it should, like other more when his immediate return and obsequious bow, good things, begin at home. I beg your pardon, my announced my instant admittance. Bowing, be threw dear ex-Algerine Despot, but I am sure you cannot open the door, I could na but do the like, so I een

[ocr errors]

"

ને

booed in wi' my head down, like a ram in a butting seems in a happy mood, which no doubt in part rematch, and hardly kent whare I was, till a tall, hale, sulted from the circumstance of Mr. Douglas being a weel favoured old gentleman, .came from a table at person of superior address, gentlemanly manners, and so which he was standing with, ah, Mr. M- how do abounding in amusing anecdote, that he never failed you?' 'You are my very old friend :' Your friend-ah, to please and entertain those who employed him.

Several anecdotes are told of the happy exercise of recovered at his kind-hearted condescension, and paid his power of pleasing. Lord sat for his miniamy respects, I hope becomingly-after some more ture. The engagements of his Lordship were numerchit-chat of auld langsyne, I was taken notice of by ous, and his time limited. Mr. Douglas under such his son the Duc D'Angouleme, who introduced me to circumstances felt it impossible to do justice to this his wife by simply pointing towards her, and saying, picture, and put forth all his powers of entertainment.

La Dauphine.' He was a good natured looking man, His Lordship was so much amused, that he soon for. like, but not nearly so good looking as his father. I got his engagements, he laughed and listened and Dext renewed my acquaintance with the Duc de Polig- listened and laughed, until suddenly recollecting an nae, brother of the unfortunate Minister, then at Paris appointment, he pulled forth his watch, and was under trial for high treason. He also was an old astonished to find that instead of one, he had sat three acquaintance of mine, and, in going over some old mat- hours with the amusing artist.“ Douglas," he exters, I unwittingly mentioned the name of his brother, claimed, “this is really too bad. I have for three hours and shall never forget the dejection which for a mo- listened to your stories, instead of sitting I have been ment clouded the countenance of the hearty old French- laughing, and instead of painting you have been jestman, as he said, 'ah, my poor brother, but we hope ing:" but Mr. Douglas replied, “ my Lord, if I were for the best. This was my only drawback from a to allow you or any other person to sit for an hour most enchanting half hour, and, on taking my leave, without speaking, you would get melancholy and dull, the Ex-king himself said, 'well Mr. M-, you have but by conversation of an amusing kind, I keep up called on me, I shall see you again some day, as I take your spirits, the time passes pleasantly, and you shall my walk.'” The above is a feeble transcript from my now see, my Lord, I have not been idle.” unretentive memory, but no writing could convey the Mr. Douglas was deservedly respected by a numeadmirable style of the narrator, nor the tones in which, rous circle of nobility and gentry, from whom he had master of French himself, he imitated the broken En- many invitations; but these he generally declined, deglish of the illustrious exiles. However, not to exceed voting himself entirely to his profession, the more your limits, I must now constrain myself, my dearest, necessary, when we state, that he had frequently forty “ Sole cause that makes St. Mungo say,

or fifty miniatures, of different sizes, in progress. His He now is brilliant every · Day :'

industry was crowned with great success, and had To bid

death not snatched away the fair “ daughter of a royal farewell. you

line,” regal favor also would have awaited him, as he

was appointed miniature painter for Scotland, to Her FINE ARTS.

Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte and Prince
Leopold.

Mr. Douglas died of ossification of the heart, at the DEATH OF MR. DOUGLAS, MINIATURE PAINTER,

age of forty-nine. His early death has left his family By the death of Mr. Douglas, at his house, Hart Street,

in great affliction, but his early exertions and constant Edinburgh, in January last, the Arts have been de

attention to bis art, we rejoice to say, have enabled prived of an eminent painter, and society of an agree

him to leave that family in circumstances of comfort able, intelligent and useful member.

and independence. Mr. Douglas, at an early age, was apprenticed to Mr. Scott, engraver, and was employed by him in

LITERARY CRITICISM, making drawings for magazines, which at that time were generally decorated with views of ancient castles, and the more interesting delineations of Scot- The French Poetical Gift, or Cours Elémentaire de Litertish scenery. He began his career of miniature paint- ature, from Malherbe to Voltaire. Edited by Mons. L. Fering when a mere boy, his companions and relations WICK DE PORQUET. London, 1832. being in their turn the subject of his pencil, and, although some of these early productions were only The Editor of this volume is an individual who has been, for sketches, they generally indicated the likeness so some time labouring in London to establish a new and more powerfully, that no difficulty was felt in tracing the perfect system of tuition. Although, in our own experience of resemblance. At length one picture of our young studying languages, we have always found that there is no royal road artist was so good, that the gentleman who sat for it to a correct knowledge of them, we cannot refrain from award. insisted it should be incased at the jeweller's, and ing, to Monsieur De Porquet, that meed of praise which he deyoung Douglas hastened with it for that purpose to

The fact is, this foreigner's method is one of the very Mr. White's, with whom he had contracted a slight

best of the many which have been submitted to the public; but, acquaintance. This gentleman struck with the beauty

while we say so, we must, at the same time confess, that it is only of the work, and the correct likeness, immediately

by the greatest diligence and perseverance that an accurate knowrecommended the young artist to follow miniature

ledge of any tongue can be acquired. painting as a profession, nor did his friendship end in

The volume before us, as its name betokens, is a Poetical Readvice only, for he introduced him to a number of his

cueil, which, while it conveys to its readers some of the most acquaintance, and of these Lord Duncan was the first,

striking passages of the Gallic Muse, is, at the same time, intendwho agreed to put to the test the talents of his young

ed to give examples of those phrases which are either idiomatic, protegee. Fortunately, the picture was remarkable for

or used in a figurative sense, and by reading them not literally, its fidelity and success, and from that moment Mr. Douglas determined to devote his time and talents to

but, in the spirit of the original, acquire the various peculiarithe pencil. His range was at first extensive. He

ties of the poetical pbraseology of France. The work is well painted landscape, cattle and familiar scenes, whilst he

compiled; and what is, perbaps, its greatest charm and its greatest now produced in miniature an effect peculiarly his own,

merit, it offers nothing which the most innocent, guileless girl, by colouring the face and arms and working the other may not read with advantage. It, in fact, realizes the common parts, and landscape in pencil. But at length his busi- Apothegm of Bouilly, ness increased so much, that he was obliged to devote

La mère en permettra la lecture à sa fille, himself entirely to miniature on ivory. His portraits which is the highest of all compliments that we can pay to a have generally a pleasing expression, the sitter always book dedicated peculiarly to the tuition and instruction of youth.

serves.

THE SORROWS OF A SPINSTER.

The case of distress contained in the following letter has excited no small degree of sympathy in the bosoms of the Council of Ten. We trust the tender grievances complained of will meet the “soft blue eye' of her “jolly good-looking Bachelor," and have the effect of rendering his heart as soft as his “eye." Should this pot be the case, we fear our fair correspondent will be looking rather blue herself. We need not say 'she bas all our best wishes for the happy result of her intended experiment.

[ocr errors]

To the Editor of The Day. Sir, I would have you understand, that the person who now addresses you, has advanced pretty far up the hill of life. Every step I make, wrings a sigh from my sad heart; and, the recurring thought of fear, that I shall go down to the grave a virgin, makes me fret and weep most deploringly. This is the fourth leap year I have seen since the time I lept out of my teens, and I have been so silly, as to allow those periods of high privilege to our sexthese some leap years to pass away—as if I cared not for being married, or wasted a single thought on the best man that ever walked in a Wellington boot, or a Hessian either.

Some of my more fortunate companions, who may now be seen walking on the Sauchiehall road, of a fine day, with two— with three—with four, or peradventure with five-rosy smiling little cherubs at their feet, often chide me in a humorous way, for being too reserved — too pernickety—too much the fine lady for the rattling beaux of of Glasgow, else I might have been married long ago. They may joke and tease me as they please ; in my own opinion, such faults I do not possess.

At one time, Mr. Day, there was a great big booby of a grocer came a courting me, with half a dozen of rings on his fingers--I know not how many seals at the watch, and his head covered with tremendously busby red hair. Well, happening to be asked to a large dinner party, who should salute me on my entrée to the parlour, but the gallant grocer! He took good care to procure a seat next me at dinoer. Asked me to drink wine-said my hand was as white as loaf-sugar, and that my cheek looked very like an American apple. My glass remaining about half-full of wine, he seized it, drank it off, and made a low joke about it being as good as a kiss. This vulgarity I could not endure, and with some hauteur, ordered the servant to take away the wine glass and bring another. The Knight of the sugar loaf reddened to the temples, and never spoke to me more. The thing was noised abroad next day, and every bod y set me down as being shockingly proud, and the whole tribe of spinsters said I had used the young man very ill, and ought to be ashamed of myself. For • a long while no one ventured to sue me for his lady love. At length a spruce young Ensign bad the courage to pay his addresses to me; but, having declined to walk arm-in-arm with him along the Trongate, he took it in high dudgeon, and wrote me a very impertinent note next day, in which he hinted, that, had I been a man, he would have called me out. Pitiful creature ! thought I, and put his card coolly into the fire. Time rolled on, and one evening, while sipping my tea, a jolly, good-looking old Bachelor insinuated himself into my good graces. He has been a constant visitor ever since, and many's the good rub at cribbage we have had together. I love him, and methinks he loves me too ; but, in discoursing of love, the only organ he uses, is his soft blue eye. I often think in secret what a happy couple we would make, and have resolved again and again to use the privilege this year af. fords me of “ popping the question" myself ; but, as I don't like to be singular in anything, I hereby request, nay, beseech all damsels similarly situated, to join me in this mode of attempting to get a husband; and, if they be agreeable, let next Wednesday be fixed upon, to make a simultaneous charge at “popping.”-Your's respectfully,

W. L. U. MarryME. P. S.-I will be sure to let you know, good Mr. Day, whether or not I succeed.

M. Glasgow, 8th March, 1832.

about six feet. It is built of marble, and has stood more than six hundred years, without fissure or decay, baving been raised in 1174. It is supposed to have sunk, when built as high as the fifth story, and the architect had the boldness and skill to complete it in the directiou it had taken.-Anon.

CELERITY OF Cloth MANUFACTURE.--- In England, the fleece has been taken from the sheep, manufactured into cloth, and made into a coat, in the short space of thirteen hours and twenty minutes.

MUNDEN.—Soon after the death of Munden, an actor of the Surrey, meeting an acquaintance, who was well known to them both, accosted him thus :—“So, we have lost our old friend and relative, Joe Munden," It's true," quoth the other, “poor Munden is gone ; but where is the relationship?"

“ Psbaw, man,” said the player, looking gravely,are we not, all of us, mundane."

The nature of a journey to Siberia, is exceedingly misunderstood in this country, and by the world in general. Such a degree of banishment presents to our miuds the picture of every thing deplorable in the lot of humanity. When viewed a little bearer, this picture has no such frightful aspect, and a man must both see what the Russian bears, and have a detailed account of what he is devoted to in his new residence, to estimate fairly the extent of the sacrifice, which the caprice of his tyrant may at any moment, and without any reason compel bim to undergo. Dr. Clarke.

MODERN SCHOOL OF POETRY.—There is a small but peculiar class of versifiers—a select band of poetasters--men of some fancy, a little learning, less taste, and almost no feeling, who have invented a manner of writing and thinking frigidly artificial, while affecting to be negligently natural, though no more resembling nature than the flowers and shell-work of our grandmothers represented the roses and carnations they caricatured.-Montgomery.

Literary Frauds.—Leonard Aretino, a distinguished scholar, at the dawn of modern literature, having found a Greek Manuscript of Procopius de bello Gothico, he translated it into Latin, and published the work—but, concealing the author's name, it passed as his own, till another M. S. of the same work being dug out of its grave, the fraud of Aretino was detected. Barbosa, a bishop of Ugento, 1649, has printed, among his works, a treatise, which, it is said, he obtained, by having perceived one of his domestics bringing in a fish, rolled in a leaf of written paper, which his curiosity led him to examine. He was sufficiently interested to run out and search the tish market, till be found the manuscript out of which it bad been toro. He purchased and published it under the title De Officio Episcopi.

VICAR OF Bray.—The Vicar of Bray, in Berkshire, was a Papist under the reign of Henry the Eighth, and a Protestant under Edward the Sixth; be was a Papist again, under Mary, and once more became a Protestant in the reign of Elizabeth. When this scandal to the gown was reproached for his versatility of religious creeds, and taxed for being a turncoat and an unconstant changeling, as Fuller expresses it, he replied, “ Not so, neither! for, if I changed my religion, I am sure I kept true to my principle, which is, 10 live and die the Vicar of Bray!"

MADRIGAL. From the Spanish.

When stars bedeck the azure sky,

And shine the sparkling gems of night,
Oh, Lady! oft I wish to sigh,

And wander near tby chamber light,
Whose faintly glowing ray discloses
The spot where innocence reposes.
And, when the smiling moonbeams play,

In silver radiance on thy bower,
In loneliness I pensive stray,

To worship there its fairest flower ;
And hope so sweet a rose as thee,
May ever bloom for one like me.
But still thy image is the shrine

Where all my musings fondly dwell ;
Y et strange, this wayward heart of mine

To thee can ne'er its failings tell ;
And though 'twould dare a host in fight,
It trembles in a Lady's sight.
Then happy be thy hour of rest,

Though hopeless still my breast must swell; For one, within whose gentle breast

Resides each grace, I love so well ; Though, cbance, my only doom may be To love and to despair for thee.

MISCELLANEA.

LEANING TOWER OF Pisa.—In the city of Pisa, there is a round tower, of eight stories of pillars, 180 feet higb, inclining so much off the perpendicular that the top projects fifteen feet over the base. The base, on the lower side, appears sunk in the ground,

GLASGOW GOSSIP.

The want of a fashionable journal which might record the gossip of the highest circles, after the manner of the Court Journal, bas often been experienced in Glasgow; and, though we have sometimes attempted to supply the void, the scarcity of parties this season, bas given us opportunity for only a limited chronicle of such occurrences. The fact, that gaiety is carried in this city to a height which would furnish ample materials for our Spectacles to comment upon, is already beyond dispute, and a farther instance of it has lately presented itself. At this moment, all St. Vincent Street is busy in discussing the events of a dejeuner and ball, which were given in the beginning of last week, on occasion of the marriage of a young and handsome couple. The splendour of the entertainments is very much lauded by the different coteries, and will very probably furnish a su bject of drawing-room conversation for some weeks.

must know that, after the defeat of the Norwegians, they fled to Fairlie Bay, where their ships were moored, and hastily set sail. Soon after, a violent storm arose, which made dreadful havoc among their fleet, sinking some and wrecking others upon the then barren shores of the surrounding country. Amongst other places, a number were thrown on the bleak desolate shores of the Little Cumbrae Island, where they all perished from famine. Many years afterwards, their whitened and bleached bones were found on the shores and buried. The late Earl of Eglinton, to whom the island belonged, employed people, about the year 1813, to raise the ground in hopes of discovering some traces of these unfortunates, and he was amply repaid for his trouble, by finding many strange relics of the days that are now gone. Ad account of the success of the excavations was published at the time, under the direction of his Lordship.

ANECDOTE OF MADAME DE STAEL.

EAST COUNTRY REMINISCENCES.

At a pumerous supper party with the Duchess Amelia, I was sitting far off her, and chanced this time, also, to be taciturn, and rather meditative. My neighbours reproved me for it, and there rose a little movement, the cause of which, at length reached up to bigher personages. Madame de Stäel heard the accusation of my silence, expressed herself regarding it, in the usual terms, and added, “On the whole, I never like Goetbe, till he has had a bottle of champaigne.' I said half aloud, so that those next me could hear, · I suppose then, we have often got a little elevated together.' A moderate laugh ensued. She wanted to know the cause. No one could or would give a French version of my words in their proper sense; till at last, Benjamin Constant, one of those near me, undertook, as she continued asking and importuning, to satisfy her by some euphonistic phrase, and so terminate the business, Goethe.

The late provost C-, of E- -, though a very worthy man, and of no mean literary attainments, was generally reported by his brethren in council, who were, like all other town councillors, remarkably fond of good eating, and, its indispensible concomitant, good drinking, to be rigidly economical—nay, even parsimonious in the management of his household affairs; his economy extending even to the entertainments which, as Lord Provost, he had to give, and for which he received a pretty good allowance from the public purse.

Some of his “ drouthy neighbours" would allege that his winc-cellar exhibited only “a beggarly account of empty bins," and a few of the more noted topers among them, resolved to put this to the test, and vaunted that they “would drink the Provost dry." Accordingly, at his lordship’s next entertainment, they pushed such a rapid circulation of the bottle, that ere long the astonished chief magistrate was obliged, from a deficiency in his own stock, to send to purchase a dozen of wine! Not many days after this occurrence, a proposal chanced to be brought forward at the council-board, for draining a large meadow belonging to the city, then alınost a complete swamp. While the council were debating this important matter, the worthy Provost abruptly interrupted their discussion, and, with a look and tone of waggery, blended with irony, exclaimed :—“ Gentlemen, you may save yourselves all tbis trouble—just stave a purchon of rum into the stank, and the convener and baillie M— will drink it dry in a week."

ODDS AND ENDS.

ARISTOCRACY,—Not such, as conquest, or feudality might found, but such as great and illustrious qualities give birth to, and time fosters into dignity, is, indeed, a natural element of every society. It is wise to uphold its existence. -Crowe.

A POETICAL BARBER.— The following choice morsel was erhibited, a few weeks ago, over the shop door of a worthy tonsor, at Todmorden:

SHAVING DEPOT.
To all who has air, or beards to crop,
I recommend my shavin' shop ;
Cheape hand luxyurious does trim
The roughest beards of any chin ,
Cuts the air on the newest plan,
And charges littler than any man.

ANTIQUITIES AT LARGS.

From a Correspondent.

CURE FOR SEA-SICKNESS. “ The best of remedies is a beef-steak

Against sea-sickness : try it, Sir, before You sneer, and I assure you this is true, For I have found it answer—so may you."

BYRON.

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Half-way between Largs and Kilburnie, the eye of the traveller is arrested by the lofty conical top of the Knockbill. On the summit of that hill, did Alexander King of Scotland survey, in person, the camp wherein the Norwegians lay, previous to the battle of Largs, and tradition says, that, to commemorate that event, the rugged pyramid or cairn which now remains, was then first erected. About two miles nearer Largs, on the banks of the Kelburn, there is to be seen the remains of the Norwegian camp. Although not very distinct, still the eye can easily trace the outlines of an encampment. It is a large circular place, which has evidently been strongly intrenched, and has the appearance of having once been defended by walls and mounds of earth; but these are long since overgrown with moss and turf. Three miles farther on there is a high range of bills overhanging the village of Largs, on which the famous battle of that name was fought, between the Scotch and Norwegians, and which ended in the defeat and expulsion of the latter from this country. On the braes immediately above the mansion house of Hailie, beneath some stunted and withered trees, three large flat stones are shewn to the stranger, as the graves wherein the dead were buried after that memorable engagement. One in particular which stands apart from the others, and on which there are still traces of hieroglyphics and ancient letters, is pointed out as the grave in which the son of Haco, King of the Norwegians, and Dracobert the admiral of his fleet, were buried; and, in corroboration of this, there have been found at several periods, adjoining the graves, pieces of old armour, ancient coins, &c.

Every one who is at all acquainted with the History of Scotland,

We are surprised that our intelligent correspondent, Giovanni, should pay the least attention to rumours which only malice and envy could have put into circulation. Let only one overt act be committed by the slanderer, and we have a rod in pickle which will for ever silence him.

“ My Teacher” does not convey a lesson sufficiently moral for our readers.

Really our Poetical correspondents are a thin-skinned, waspish generation. We must, for their own sakes, entreat them to submit to the rejection of their pieces with a little more temper.

We are at a loss to know what obligation we have confered on “ A. B.” that he should feel himself so “ much oblidged."

Al communications for the Editor of Tue Dar" are requested to be left with the Publisher, Mr. Joun Finlay, No. 9, Miller Street.

Published, every Morning, Sunday excepted, by John FINLAY, at

No. 9, Miller Street; and Sold by John WyLIE, 97, Argyle Street; David Robertson, and W. R. M.Puun, Glasgow ; Thomas STEVENSon, and the other Booksellers, Edinburgh : David Dick, and A. GARDNER, Booksellers, Paisley : A. LAING, Greenock; and J. Glass, Bookseller, Rothsay.

PRINTED BY JOHN GRAHAM, MELVILLE PLACE.

« PreviousContinue »