happened that these professions were in accordance with their acts when in power. Some leading principles there may be, by which one body of men may choose to distinguish themselves from another; but they are generally speculative, and often worthless, because impracticable. A man who is responsible for nothing but his words, may resist an eloquent harangue on the beauty of virtue, and the deformity of vice; but he only is virtuous and wise, who feels that his principles of action are independent of the seductions of oratory, and are amenable to reason alone.

Of late years there has really been no great leading mark, by which the one party in the parliament was distinguished from the other, if the question of reform be excepted. The constitutional ground of difference died out, when time put an end to the disputed succession; and since that period, the chief distinction has been, that one class of men have been in place, and the other out of it. Attempts, no doubt have been made to introduce new and untried principles, in trade, and general policy, but these have not been the doings of any distinct party. They are rather the partial effects of partial coalitions among different parties, and cannot justly be considered as the acts of individual one. any In despite of all this, however, men-and sensible men too-talk of party, as if there were something talismanic in the word itself, though it be but the echo of a departed sound. Some allowance may be made for those who have always breathed in the turbid atmosphere of party politics, for perpetuating this folly. Since it is not very easy to disabuse oneself of early and strong impressions; but little can be said for the wisdom of those, who have neither hereditary, nor educational claims, to a participation in the prevailing delusion. If men would only remember, that perfection is unattainable, and that the spirit of the constitution is adverse to the pretensions of any faction, moderation might be looked for; and the stream of social life be undisturbed by the passing storm. But this is a consummation which we dare not anticipate. Having thus rapidly glanced at the origin and state of parties, we may attempt to ascertain, how the abolition of this kind of legislative counterpoise will affect the general welfare.

Our own opinion is, that it will operate beneficially. For many years the whole thing has been a fiction, and this men now begin to see. An obstinate adherence

to any party rules can only beget intolerance and political bigotry. The sooner, therefore, it is abandoned the better, since nothing good can ever result from fanaticism of any kind. We may, also, hope that the characters of public men will be judged by their actions, not by their words, and that the depositaries of a nation's happiness will in future be more sparing of speech, and more liberal of work. If much cannot be accomplished, let not much be promised, and, above all, let the odious practice of mystification be abolished, which has long rendered the language of statesmen a tongue of many meanings, which, like the effaced words of an ancient palampsest, may be interpreted in a thousand ways, according to the fancy of the commen

Tincle.-I mean to talk for two and take for two.
Sneerall. I hope you mean then to pay for four.
Tincle.-I'll pay for your supper if you'll let me order it?
Sneerall. What supper would you order me?

Tincle.-A glass of water and a toothpick, the fittest for such a foulmouthed critic-ha, ha, ha!

Sneerall. My dear Tiucle, your wit must indeed be true, for I perceive it always gives you the laugh on your own side. Your spear is both bright and sharp, but you generally port it by the wrong end, pushing not the point but the butt against your butt, to the manifest endangering of your own most portly and protuberant corporation.

Tincle.-Nay, nay, my dear fellow, in a very few words let me

explain.

Sneerall. Oh, for heaven's sake, no, let's have the fish first, don't be sulky, you know you can prove yourself the very quintessence of wits, while we discuss, what I think the quintessence of fish. (Enter Waiter with supper, tipple, tobacco, &c.) How now, Simple, what's the matter man, why are you gazing in the fire, and gaping like a cod in a creel broiling under a July sunare you calculating your probable gain by that very advantageous sale, to a retail tobacconist, of the copyright and copies of your dear defunct (alas, so early dead), dramatic attempt. Simple. I pray thee as thou lovest me friend, forbear

That dismal theme, which strikes my galled ear-
As keen, as doth the callous coachman's cord,
The recent raw his cruelty has caused,

On hide of hack, hacked by's inhuman hand.
Tincle.-Bravo, Bob-what, is cur friend dramatic?
Sneerall.-Aye, dramatic-epic-lyrical-and fugitive.
Simple. From his duns at least.

Sneerall. He's an orator, you know, so entitled to write tragedies after the manner of Shiel and Sheridan. Simple. Did Sherry write Tragedies?

Sneerall.-Falkland is a sort of one, and so deserved d- -n, that it has almost dragged down with it the noble Comedy, (the Rivals,) in which it is so awkwardly introduced.

Tincle.-Was this simple fellow's a Tragedy.

Sneerall.-A Tragedy to him and an opiate to me-I did hear some good words in the fourth Act, (for I happened to wake about that time,) but they were so oddly arranged, I could make no meaning out of them, however I believe the heroine went mad about that time, which accounts for it.

Tincle.-Well, was his Tragedy d—d.

Simple.-Alas, it never arrived at that distinction.

Sneerall. It was a "birth-strangled babe,." D-d, as the Hibernian hath it, ere ever it was heard of; it gasped itself into a paid notice from a trumpery newspaper or two, which proved the speediest road to a quiet oblivion-but, Simple, Simple, quiet, I see Tincle is threatening at least a three hours' essay on Dramatic Literature, to which Schlegel's 2 vols. were a triple. Stave him off with a stave-set him asleep with a song.

Simple. What shall I sing?

Sneerall. A chanson à boire, a drinking ditty to be sure. (Simple sings)

Tincle. Then what made you introduce wine?

Simple. For the sake of the rhime. Porter will not go with poetry. Ale, I could find no rhime for, but "fail" or "stale,” and as for whisky its only rhime-" frisky," is quite unworthy of the dignified deportments, which should ever distinguish our debauching. Besides, Burns is the only one who could write readable poetry on the blood of " Inspiring old John Barleycorn.” Sneerall.-Apropos of Burns, were you at the dinner given here about a month ago, in honour of his son, Captain Burns? Simple. I was not, but Tincle was, and made a speech too, I am told.

Tincle.-I did indeed, Sir, deliver myself with pride and pleasure, upon a subject, which, as I said to the ChairmanSimple.-Oh, we'll take the toast if you please, and spare you the sentiments which justified it.

Tincle.-Aside-Puppy. Aloud.-The toast, Sir, was spirit which makes the simple wise." Ha, ha, ha,

"the

Sneerall. A better hit this time-then it was not you who

toasted Quarterly Lockhart, as the man of the Aristocracy, who condescended to write the biography of the Peasant Burns?

Simple. Was such a toast really given, and before the son of Burns too?

Sneer all. Not exactly in so many words, but its meaning was unquestionably such.

Simple.-Who was the dire perpetrator of such enormity? Tincle.-Come, come, Gentlemen, no reporters were there, so we must name no names, indeed I remember it was my own suggestion, for, on rising, before I proceeded to the main topic on which I intended to dilate, I begged to be allowed

Sneerall.--(Aside.) Aye, we were doomed to hear how at least one goose cackled.

[Enter Waiter.]

Simple. The same.

Sneerall.-Poor Jack, he's been thirty years a Lieutenant, thanks to the Government that used to give frigates as the prizes for a fair attendance at the University.

Tincle.-How may that be, is he not a relative of my illustrious friend Sir Charles-the Horatius Cocles of the conservatives, who stoutly, and often singly, disputes every inch of the bridge over which

Sneerall. What bridge-the bridge of sighs from which flagitious statesmen were flung-eh, Tincle!

Tincle. I will not be interrupted, I demand to be heard, my Lords, I mean gentlemen. I say he ever stands undaunted against the fiercest efforts of a Radical mob.

Sneerall.-Oh! was that when he slip't away in an hostler's jacket, and left his supporters to the tender mercies of the Bristol ragamuffins?

Tincle.-Gentlemen, this is most improper conduct-if you abridge the liberty of speech, then "fie upon your laws" I say, and I will ever maintain that he is-

[Enter Lieutenant Weatherall, singing.]

An old bum-boat randy,

At scolding right handy,

Lay along side us, laden with slops;
Says Captain O'Curser

To Pare'em, his purser,

Duck the Jade, Jack, if longer she stops.

Aye, my hearties, still at your old tricks, smoking and soaking, my service to ye; may ye never want a wind nor a wind-pipe to whistle for't-here, waiter, a couple of tumblers, for I have much leeway and little time.

Sneerall. Here's t'ye, Weatherall, my gay fellow, may you live in commission, command in action, and die in victory.

Weatherall.-Ay, you know the way to a sailor's heart, you've a sailor's soul yourself.

Tincle (aside.)-Pity it has so unshapely a case, then-(aloud) Captain, don't you think I would make a capital sailor. Weatherall.-You!-Why the rigging ropes are but three ply.

(sings)

An old Admiral once, so fat, jolly, and large,

Used the capstan, to crane him on board from his barge-
One day the rope broke-as he fell in the main,
He bawled out, "I'll ne'er trust to three ply again."

Sneerall. By my faith, Tincle, he has the weather gage of you; now, don't be sulky-ask him after your great bell-wether, Sir Charles. Hark'ec, Jack, is he sib to you?

Weatherall.-What! the fellow that chatters like a whole roost of Senegal apes, when a Nigger comes near them, that won't take spell and spell about as others do-that sets himself up (d--n his consummate impudence) to run foul of a plan which the King, they say, has, of setting all to rights-no, no, I'd be keel-hauled before I'd own him.

Tincle. This shews the highly improper use which has been made of the King's name. I thought he had been your cousin. Weatherall.-He's neither kinsman nor namesake o' mine; I put the "A" to my name.

Sneerall. It would please a good many were he, too, to put the "AYE" to his name. By the bye, have you read Blackwood's Magazine for January, 1832.

Simple.-I have; average-three good stories, though two on the self same subject—a night-mare after a heavy supper-the third, poor as a tale, but well told-the politics, as usual; what a pity the clever fellow who writes them (the best on that side) does not know when to stop, but must needs ring over and over again without any changes.

Sneerall. What I most admire is the exquisite taste, modesty, and disinterestedness, displayed in Christopher North's enthusiastic eulogium of Professor Wilson's speech.

Tincle. Wherefore not, gentlemen; has not Majesty's self been delighted and edified by it; has not our gracious King William the Fourth perused it-been enchanted by its matchless eloquence; and is there not, therefore, now every prospect, that, 46 revolving in his altered mind the various tricks of wild reform," he may yet change his dire intents, and dismiss those evil counsellors who have brought us to so dismal a pass.

Sneerall.-Us

Weatherall. Avast heaving there-that craft wont carrythat cable wont hold; thof I doesn't know much about this reform, as you call it, (howsomedever, it would be no bad law, that would give the command of the prize to the jolly fellow that first hands down the foreign flag, instead of always giving it to some milk and water jack-a-dandy bastard of a Parliament man.) Yet mayhap, for all that, I know our true-blue sailor king, or, what comes to the same thing, a messmate o' mine sailed with him in many a cruize, and wasn't the fine fellow mast-headed, every now and then, for all manner of middy's mischief; and might not ha' been 's'cased again and again, becaze as how, he was no true middy after all, but only a Prince, and didn't he scorn to be a Prince-but e'en took what was going with his messmates -and will you go for to tell me, that now he's a king, he'll put about ship, at the slack-jaw palavering of a lubberly laudsman, who, mayhap, knows no more of a ship than the state cabin, and the puking basin; no, no, if he has run his ship into action, the colours are nailed to the mast, and ship, crew, and cargo may all go to Davy's Locker afore he'll sheer off; he'll fight to the last plank-bless his honest heart-and if he should fall as his friend Nelson did, I know one that won't be alive to make a moan for him so here's to his health, messmates, and success to all his undertakings, good, bad, and indifferent-he need never be ashamed of any of 'em-and he who wont stand to the pledge, may he walk the plank in a murky night, and be sharks-bait before morning-that's all.

Tincle. His Majesty-(drinks off his tumbler, being the 6th.) Sneerall. Reform Bill-(drinks off his tumbler, being the 3d.) Simple.-The King-(drinks off his tumbler, being the 4th.) Weatherall.-Join me messmates.

STANZAS TO A LADY.

Who marks the smile which plays upon thy face-
Like moonbeam stealing o'er the listening sea-
The modest mein, the unaffected grace,
The angel-look of piety-

And feels not in his bounding breast,
Enkindl'd there, a sacred fire,
May sigh, to think his soul's confess'd

That heaven is not his heart's desire.
I would not ask for Titian's glow,
His Maddelena's pensive tear-
I'd gaze not on the chisel'd snow
Of virgin beauty-wert thou near;
For in thy downcast azure eye

A hallow'd beam of light is given,
Which points the pathway to the sky,

Which tells that innocence is heaven.

EPIGRAM ON AN HONEST LAWYER, "Cheat," "Cheat," cries Lawyer Loopy to his CatBy Jas, there's a pair of you," cries Pat!

MISCELLANEA.

LOVE. No one person in a thousand is capable of a real passion —that intense and overwhelming feeling, before which all others sink into nothingness. It asks for head and heart-now, many are deficient in both. Idleness and vanity cause, in nine cases out of ten, that state of excitement which is called being in love. I have heard some even talk of their disappointments, as if such a word could be used in the plural. To be crossed in love, forsoothwhy, such a heart could bear as many crosses as a raspberry tart. -Miss Landon's Romance and Reality.

GLASGOW GOSSIP.

A STRANGE report has come to our ears, that upwards of 80 persons, connected with the Tontine Coffee-room, had actually signed a petition to the proprietors, beseeching them to banish all the Tory Journals from the tables. If this be the case, it speaks but little for the march of liberty in the East. Such individuals should remember, that, by so acting, they virtually declare themselves the enemies of a Free Press-the abettors of factions—not the honest inquirers after truth. To what a terrific species of tyranny-even the tyranny of mental slavery-would we be subjected, if the views and doctrines of only one set of politicians, philosophers, or divines, were permitted to pass current! This would, indeed, be a censorship worse than that which the weak and despotic ex-King of the French attempted to establish. What! Men to cry about freedom, and yet openly set themselves forward as the determined foes of free discussion! Shame, shame on such short-sighted politicians.

Among the many modes resorted to by the philanthropist, there is, perhaps, none that occasionally proves more successful than a Ladies' Charitable Bazaar. Glasgow has been much famed for these, and large sums have been hence procured for the poor and indigent. There has been some gossipping in certain circles about getting one up, to aid the many miserable wretches who are at present in want of blankets and clothing, and who are thereby most liable to the attacks of that cruel malady which now rages at Gateshead. The fair damsels of Perth have been before hand with us in this work of beneficence. It appears they have had a Bazaar which netted nearly four hundred pounds. As another mode of raising money, for the same beneficent purposes, the Officers of the 71st infantry condescended to assume, in that city, for one night, the Sock and Buskin, and, what is rather singular, produced exactly seventy-one pounds.

The good folks of St. Vincent-street were, t'other day, all put on the qui vive by the appearance of an American sleigh. The snow, however, was neither sufficiently deep nor sufficiently firm to exhibit the utility of this winter conveyance.

REMINISCENCES OF GLASGOW WORTHIES.

THE death of Provost Aird occurred about fourteen years after the erection of the Ram's Horn Church, which was built under his dictatorship. The Provost, with his brethren of the Council, were wont to assemble at the house of Neps Denny, at the head of Saltmarket, who kept one of the most comfortable hostelries which Glasgow could at that time boast of. At one of the meetings, shortly after the good man's decease, it was proposed that an epitaph should be composed by one of the members of the Club; but, whether it was, that the magistrates of those days were less poetical than their successors, or that this is an office not easily assimilated to the ordinary duties of a civic functionary, it was found that the assistance of the buxom landlady was necessary. Perfectly familiar with her subject, and under no fears of severe criticism, Nans produced the following lines:

Here lies Provost Aird,

He was neither a great merchant nor a great laird;
At bigging o' kirks he had richt gude skill;

He was twice Lord Provost, and three times Dean o' Gil'. Some forty years ago, when our good city began seriously to struggle with the world, and to amass the fortune she has since got, one of our burgesses, a person of some eminence in the Incorporation of Weavers, found it necessary to visit the city of London. Proud of the eminence he had attained among his fellowcitizens, and, like many others, who find wealth flowing on them faster than they could have ever anticipated, was not a lectle given to boasting. At the Blue and White, or some such club of citizens, he had cracked rather crousely of his London jaunt, and, among other things, had given his compeers to understand, that, as he intended to call upon His Majesty when he got to London, he would be no doubt asked to spend the day with him, and take his dinner. On returning from the metropolis, he was often heard enlarging at the club, on the wonders he had seen; but it was observed that he kept profound silence on his visit to the King. Finding that he made no allusion of what he had previously boasted so much, one of the club one night said, "But, my dear Sir, you have never yet told us, whether you saw the King, and if so, whether he asked you to dinner." The boasting manufacturer looked a little queer, but at last said, "Why, I saw His Majesty, and he said he was vera sorry he could na ask me to my dinner that day, for the Queen was thrang wi' a washing."

LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

A NEW Monthly Magazine, to be conducted on liberal and independent principles, is announced to appear in Edinburgh on the first of March. It is to be brought out under the auspices of Mr. William Tait, whose experience and enterprise as a publisher are well known. It is also said, that an Editor, who has already given proofs of a vigorous and versatile genius, has been secured.

FINE ARTS.

ARCHITECTURE.

Ir is an extraordinary fact that the Annual Gold Medal, offered by the Royal Academy, for the Best Specimen in this department of Art, is this year still in retentis. No individual, among the many who are at this moment employed in the surveillance of the mighty wings that are now adding to our modern Babylon, have thought it worth their while to enter the list for the golden prize. The fate of poor Gandy, being still only an Associate of the Academy, because he is poor, can alone account for genius deserting this course. This wonderful genius in his art may well say of the Academy, what Oliver Goldsmith said of his muse,

"She found me poor and kept me so."

Of all the branches of the Liberal Arts, there is not one which ought to be more sedulously caressed and patronized than the one by which Palladio and Sansovino have made themselves immortal, for it is the only one which strikingly combines beauty, taste and utility. In England, considering the enormous amounts that are yearly expended on building, how few edifices are there to which the finger of a pure and classical taste can point! In Scotland, notwithstanding its splendid materials, there was, till lately, little to claim the praise of the cognocenti in architecture, and in this city, abounding as it does with so many public buildings and princely mansions, how few are there, after all, among them that can be held up as worthy of imitation! This is a subject of great importance, and it is one to which we mean very soon to direct our attention.

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Several Communications relative to the Jamaica Street Bridge, have been received, and will be duly submitted to the consideration of the Board."

"CONFESSIONS OF A BURKER, No. 2," will appear in the course of the week.

"Lines on the Death of an Orphan" will perhaps have a place when our Poet's Corner is relieved from more urgent clains.

The Paper" ON STIRRET'S CASE" is not lost sight of. It will appear so soon as an answer is returned to the petition that was sent to London. We regret its delay, but justice must have its fair

course.

The letter of an "O in night" lies with our Publisher, and may be had by application to him. The best thing we can wish the writer, who seems to be mistified by the weight of his philosophy, is, that he may soon find an O in light.

LARGS REGATTA, No. 2, will appear on Wednesday. Several Literary Notices are in type. Among these are one on "Banim's Chaunt of the Cholera," and another on "M'Nish's Anatomy of Drunkenness." We trust to find room for these in

THE MEMOIR-MANIA OF THE FRENCH.

Revolve what tales I have told you

Of Courts, of Princes, of the tricks in war: This service is not service, so being done, But being so allowed.

SHAKESPEARE.

THERE is a sad itching in most people to have a peep behind the curtain of courts, but certainly there is no country where the mania of story-telling, connected with those heartless circles, in which

hate, deceit,

And deadly ruin wear the masks of beauty,

And draw deluded fools with shews of pleasure,

is so much indulged in, and patronized than in France. The fact is, our Gallic neighbours have always had a most happy knack of thus giving the world the little nuxances of character, and of pouring forth in a manner altogether peculiar and fascinating, the gossip and the tittle-tattle which characterize the grands et petits of the haut ton. soupers On perusing the vast collection of memoirs which have lately been issued from the Parisian Press, we have always felt as if we were holding a friendly tête-à-tete with the narrator-so unaffectedly and so easily does the story or anecdote drop from the pen. The history of France for the last forty years affords indeed a particularly fertile field for this spinster-like species of literary composition, and we consequently find that one tome has chased another across the bookseller's counter, with a rapidity unparalelled in any other country.

Among the last specimens of that species of writing to which we have alluded, are the memoirs now before us* of the Duchess of Abrantes, the accomplished wife of the clever Junot, who outwitted our council of sage wiseacres assembled at the convention of Cintra.

In these memoirs we are presented not only with an amusing key to many of the questions which agitated the leading society of Paris, during the eventful period of the Revolution, of the Consulate, of the Empire, and the Restoration, but obtain an insight into the character and demeanour of most of the leading personages, that have, since the execution of Louis XVI. more prominently figured in the field of Parisian politics; while, as a seasoning to the whole, there is every where strewed a goodly sprinkling of that scandal, which is alike the accompaniment of the court of a Consul, a King, or an Emperor. The gossip of the Duchess is particularly amusing, and her various anecdotes are told with a wit and vivacity which rarely belongs to any, save those who have been born and bred within the boundaries of la belle France. Perhaps the most striking, and most interesting, portion of her work is that in which she pourtrays the leading Generals, and those who were more immediately around the person of Napoleon. These no doubt are mere sketches, but it is perhaps questionable, whether they do not really give a better idea of the appearance and character of the individuals delineated than more laboured portraits. Like the simple pictorial outlines of Pinelli and Retch, the figures though only composed of a few touches

MEMOIRES DE MADAME LA DUCHESSE D'ABRANTES; OU Souvenirs Historiques sur Napoleon, le Consulat, l'Empire et la Restauration.

are instinct with life, and stand out before us in all their individual peculiarities. As an example of the Duchess's style, let us take the description of her husband's first stept in life.

"It was at this period that one day, at the post of the battery of Sans-Culottes, a young lieutenant-colonel of artillery arrived a few days before from Paris, to dect the operation of the artillery at the siege, (of Toulon,) under the orders of the intelligent Cartaux, begged the officer on duty to point out to him a young noncommissioned officer, possessing both courage and intelligence. The lieutenant called La Tempête; and forth with Junot appeared. The lieutenant-colonel fixed upon him that look which seemed already to know what men were. Take off thy coat,' said he, and carry this order there,' pointing out a spot at a distance from the coast, and explaining what he required of him. The young serjeant reddened, and his eyes sparkled: I am no spy,' said he; 'find out some one else to execute your order,' and he was retiring. You refuse to obey,' said the officer, in a severe tone: 'do you know to what you expose yourself?' 'I am ready to obey,' said Junot; but I will go where you send me with my uniform, or I will not go at all. It is honour enough for those cursed English.' The officer smiled, and looked attentively at him. 'But they will kill you,' said he. What is that to you?' retorted Junot: 'you do not know enough of me to be sorry for it; and as for me it is indifferent. Come, I will go as I am, shall I not?' He then put his hand to his cartridge box! Good? with my sword and these sugar plums, the conversation will not flag, should those gentlemen be desirous of talking;' and he set off singing. After his departure, What is the name of that young man?' said the officer. Junot.' He will get on.' The officer wrote the name on his tablets.-This was already a judgment of great weight; for the reader must have guessed that this officer was Napoleon.

"A few days after, being at the same battery, Buonaparte asked for some one who wrote a good hand. Junot stepped forward. Buonaparte recognized him as the serjeant who had already fixed his attention. After expressing the interest he took in him, he was ordered to place himself in readiness to write what should be dictated to him. Junot placed himself upon the eqaulement of the battery: he had scarcely finished his letter when a bomb, thrown by the English, burst within ten paces of him, and covered him and the letter with earth. "Good,' said Junot, laughing, we had no sand to dry the ink.' Buonaparte fixed his eyes upon the young sergeant, who was calm, and had not even started. This circumstance decided his fortune."

Let us see next what the authoress says of

LANNES, DURoc, eugene BEAUHARNAIS.

"General Lannes, then twenty-eight years of age, was five feet five or six inches in height, slightly, even elegantly formed, with feet, legs, and hands of remarkable beauty. His face was not handsome, but expressive; and when his voice conveyed one of the military thoughts which led him to those deeds of valour, by which he acquired the name of the Rolando of the Army, then,' said Junot, his eyes which you see so small, become immense, and shoot lightning.' Junot told me that he considered Lannes the bravest man in the army, without any exception, because his courage, always equal, received neither augmentation nor decrease from circumstances which operate upon almost all other military men. He possessed the same sang froid on coming into action, in the midst of the mêlée, and in the most difficult situations, as when he returned to his tent. To these advantages, inappreciable in an officer, particularly a general officer, Junot informed me, that he added a rapid coup-d'œil, an instantaneous conception, and a justness of appreciation, which he had met with in no one but the First Consul. According to Junot, it was Lannes who united the most qualifications necessary to form a perfect man of arms. He was, besides, a good man, a faithful friend, and a sincere lover of his country. He had a heart truly French, and in the beaux jours of the republic, or in the days of la belle république, nothing couples his recollections with blood, unless it be the blood of the enemies of his country."

"Duroc came next to Lannes, amongst those whom Junot mentioned to me. He was, I believe, a year younger, well made, of the same height as Lannes, slight like him, but with more dis

* French measure; about five feet eleven inches English.

tinguished manners. His face might please, but I did not think it agreeable His eyes were tolerably large, but too much on a level with his face for his look ever to be in harmony with either his smile or any other expression; which made those who did not like him, say he was wanting in candour. But I, whose dear friend he was, can say that I knew his heart better than anybody, and I can certify his goodness and the perfection of his character. Duroc had remarkable talents.. Bonaparte, who could judge men, in distinguishing him amongst his comrades, and in sending him to execute his orders at foreign courts, at a period when it was not in our power to content ourselves with saying, The Emperor, my master, orders you to speak or to hold your tongue,' understood what he could perform."

"Eugene Beauharnais was still a child, but was then what he promised to be at a later period, a charming and amiable youth, with the exception of his teeth, which, like those of his mother, were horribly bad. His whole person was an assemblage of elegance, the more attractive because he added a quality rarely found with it, frankness and gaiety in his manners. He would laugh like a child; but his risible faculties were never excited by anything in bad taste. He was amiable, graceful, polite without obsequiousness, and fond of jokes, but without impertinence. He was a good actor, sung delightfully, danced as his father had done when he obtained a surname; in short, he was a very agreeable young man."

These sketches are certainly both characteristic and clever, and exhibit a taste and a talent not frequently to be met with, in the ordinary run of French Memoirs. We have heard the Duchess's opinion of certain of Napoleon's Generals and Court, let us see what she says of the First Consul himself.

"One day, as the First Consul went down to review the troops in the court of the Tuileries, an event occurred of so singular a nature as to draw attention and excite interest. Amongst the crowd assembled there was a lad of fifteen, dressed in an old black coat very much worn, but clean, and indicating that its wearer did not belong to the lower classes of society. His countenance was interesting; pale, trembling violently, as his neighbours observed, and putting his hand frequently into his bosom, he seemed impatiently to await the arrival of the first consul. When the drums gave the signal, the emotion of the lad became so strong, that his chest was seen to rise from the beating of his heart. The first consul came down, and, when he was about the middle of the vestibule, the youth precipitated himself towards him, and offered him a paper. There were so many plots at this period-so many attempts upon the life of the first consul, that twenty persons, not belonging to his retinue, immediately seized the boy, who, with his hand raised, and casting a supplicating look at the first consul, still continned to offer his petition. 'Let the young man go," said Napoleon, I will speak to him;' and, advancing towards him, said, Who are you, my child?'-The youth could not answer; but falling upon his knees, presented his petition. The first consul read it with an expression of countenance which struck all who were near him: he then fixed his eyes upon the lad, who was still kneeling, and said, with an expression of the deepest sympathy, Rise, my good boy; you must kneel only to God. Is your mother still at Paris?' An almost inarticulate yes was the reply. Tell her that she has a pension of twelve hundred francs, and six months of arrears shall be paid to her.' On hearing these words, the poor boy fell again upon his knees; he raised at the same time his eyes full of tears and his hands towards the first consul, whose hands he endeavoured to take, but the emotion was too strong. On learning the favour conferred upon his mother, his paleness, which was before extreme, had redoubled: he soon became purple; the veins of his forehead swelled as if they were going to burst; his eyes closed, and he fell senseless at the feet of the first consul; but nature assisting herself, an abundant hemorrhage ensued, and Napoleon was covered by the poor boy's blood. " A surgeon,' cried he, a surgeon.' But it is said that joy is never fatal, and yet I have seen the reverse. Be that as it may, the youth came to his senses, and bursting into tears, forcibly seized the hand of the first consul, and kissed it with transport. You are a God for my family,' said he, I will pray every day for you.' The first consul smiled, and pressing the boy's hand continued to advance towards his horse, but, before he mounted, recommended the youth to Junot and to the war minister; then, giving him a friendly nod, said, 'If you will enter the service, apply to the commandant of Paris, he will speak to the war minister, and we shall see what can be done for you.' 'Yes, I will serve cried the youth, I also will be a soldier, that one ray of glory may fall upon my brows.' This young man was the son of Monsieur Delauney, the governor of the Bastille, who was massacred on the 14th of July, 1789."

The matter contained in these Memoirs is really so interesting, that we might go on extracting for pages. Our limits will not however permit us to indulge in any more except the following, which we present our readers as a sample of the authoress's descriptive talent. It is an anecdote of Buonaparte when in Egypt.

"The man having prostrated himself, called for two buckets of water. As soon as they were brought, he undressed himself, and remained in a state of complete nudity; then filling his mouth with water, and creeping on his belly like the reptile he sought, squirted it through his teeth, so as to imitate the hissing of a serpent. Having crept in this manner through the ground-floor, he placed himself before the general-in-chief, and said with a savage laugh,Mafiche, Mafiche;' which means, 'there is none.' The general also laughed, and said, 'How is this? Is the fellow, in good earnest, able to tell?' He then ordered the interpreter to explain clearly that the reptile had been seen. I know it,' replied the fellow; I smelt him as I entered the house.' Here we are,' said the general-in-chief, the acting is now going to begin. Well let the serpent be found, and I will give thee two sequins more.'

6

"The man immediately recommenced creeping, and squirted water on all sides. He ascended, in the same manner, a staircase, leading to an upper story, occupied by Bourrienne. A long dark corridor opened into several apartments. It was lighted by a sky-light at the further end, which gave a view of the country; and at the bottom of this sky-light was placed the water-fountain, this spot being the coolest in the house. The opening itself was sufficiently large to give, from the other extremity of the corridor, a view of the beautiful blue Egyptian sky. On attaining the landing-place of this corridor, the juggler paused, and betrayed emotion. He was closely followed by the general-in-chief and a number of officers, attracted by curiosity. The general did not lose sight of the fellow an instant, and was determined, if be discovered the least trick, to take him in the act. On seeing him shudder and close his eyes,Thy man is beginuing his part,' said the general to Junot. And, in truth, the snake-catcher was in a most extraordinary state. Habitually pale, as all swarthy skins are, he became every moment paler. He called for more water, washed his body, squirted and hissed as before, but produced another kind of hissing. He looked on each side of the landingplace, made a sign with his hand to keep silence, and still creeping upon his belly, advanced to the right side of the corridor, which was the darkest part of it. In a short time, after squirting his mouthful of water, he exclaimed, in a low tone, There he is!' 'I should be delighted to do him the honours of hospitality,' said the general-in-chief: but, my friend, I suspect thou art laughing at us. Do you know that this rascal, with his hissing, has been making fools of us for the last hour, in forcing us to The run, without umbrellas, after his imaginary serpent?' snake-catcher continued to hiss and creep. On a sudden, a black and round body, resembling the branch of a tree, appeared in re. lief upon pure azure, which was visible through the sky-light. It was a handsome serpent, real, alive, and about six feet long.— At this sight, the fellow redoubled his hissing and squirting; and the serpent, after uncoiling itself from around the fountain, hissed in its turn, but its note was much more piercing.

the

"Junot informed me that the eyes of the reptile shone, in this sombre corridor, with a blood coloured flame. It glided along the fountain, and stopped; then a slight noise was heard; it was the reptile rising upon its tail. The snake-catcher could not do the same, because he had no tail; but he raised himself half up, and made a slight motion. In an instant the reptile darted at him. He was waiting for this attack; and, at the very moment it was made, caught the animal with one hand round the throat, which he squeezed with such violence, as to force open its mouth, into which he spat. The effect was magical; the reptile seemed

to have received its death-blow. The man afterwards extracted its fangs, or rather the venom contained in small vesicles attached to its jaws. He then played with it, put it round his neck, made it dance, and at length devoured it alive. Well, General,' said Junot, what have you to say of this adventure?" • What can I say to an effect of chance? Thy snake-catcher is a lucky charlatan; that is all.'"

LARGS REGATTA, 1830, BY A LANDSMAN.-No. 2.

Now, surely, this is better far, than all your new parade Of rout, assembly, fancy ball, at home, and masquerade.

SONG.

AFTER the perils I had undergone, it may be readily supposed I enjoyed a comfortable dinner at Mr. Underwood's with no ordinary relish. My toilet in the morning had been somewhat of the hastiest, and both my hair and my chin required to be submitted to a professional artist. I enquired if Largs had such an appendage, and my kind landlord replied in the affirmative; adding, however, that as an eminent frisseur, from Paris, was also in the village, he thought it right I should be informed of it. There was a diffidence in my landlord's expression, which caused me to enquire if I could be attended immediately? and I then learned that the man of wigs was "drinking with some of his acquaint