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of de eagle-winged genius, when it is impelled upwards by de mighty impulses of de glorious gushings of its heaven-born poetical imaginings, that come over de mind of de poet, like de grand cataract, and sweep away all de common-place ideas of little-souled men.

Doctor.-Fine words, Mr. Punch-but very obscure and much like a giblet pie-you have the odds and ends of ideas, the legs and wings as it were, but nothing distinct or intire―

Punch. Giblet pie! You are very bad judge, Doctor. De obscurity you speak of is like de vapour dat passes over de landscape-it is quite natural-it is like de black patch on de fair face of nature dat give grace and beauty to de countenance, it is de mist on de mountain, and though de mountain is not all seen, nor distinct, nor entire, will any man but a fool say dat de mountain is not der?

Doctor. I don't understand your logic, Mr. Punch; and I much fear, neither your oratory nor your logic will take in the Glasgow market.

Punch. Well, well, Doctor-I will give you a few more specimens of eloquence; for I wish my friends to judge for me, and tell me where my great strength lies, and what style I ought to follow, and what is my particular vein, and de bent of my genius; and I throw myself, at full length, on de kindness of my friends, to tell me all dis. Now, I shall give you a speech in a-noder style. [Punch ascends the chair, sticks his thumbs in his arm-pits, rears back his head, pushes forward his chest, and, shaking the curls of his brown wig with a dignity and gravity becoming the great Thunderer of Olympus himself, thus begins.]—Hear me for my cause, and be silent that you may hear-take your fingers out of your ears and put them in your mouts, that you may be de more silent and attentive to de simultaneous, spontaneous, and instantaneous burst of—

Doctor.-(Looking at his watch.)-Stop, stop, Mr. Punch, you must excuse me, my time is up, I am off, in the mean time our friend Boniface will give you your first lesson in punch making, and he, perhaps, will also teach you to rumble an egg, an excellent old dish just coming again into fashion, and patronized by the Rumblegumpy Club.

Publican. It's my wife that does that, Sir.

Doctor. Well, well, settle it among yourselvesI'm off. I will hear your specimens another time.[Exeunt Doctor, while Judy, Punch and the Publican, retire to the adjacent.]

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identity being the most evident and obvious of all things to a rational man; inasmuch as, asleep or awake, sober or intoxicated, a man may forget all things except his own being. Now, in what form shall any man produce an argument of his own being? for the nature of an argument is, to be a medium which shall lead the prover to his proof.

Now, if an argument be made use of to establish the existence of one's own being, the argument is a medium between a thing and itself: Hence-to argue the existence of self is absurd and impossible.

2d. For proof of the 2d, viz. That it is an essence: Every entity, except the Almighty, the self-existing, is either an essence or an accident; which may be thus illustrated. Every entity either exists of itself, or dependent on some other entity, which exists independently-as whiteness and blackness, which are accidents, or properties of a body; and the figure of a chair, which is dependent on the existence of the wood; for if the body did not exist there could be no blackness, and if the wood, or some substitute for it, did not exist, there could be no figure of a chair. And such entities are called accidents; for, were this not the case, they must have existed of themselves, without any dependence on other independent things: like body and wood, above exemplified, which are called essences.

This distinction being established, we affirm that the mind, or distinctive nature of man, cannot be an accident; for it is the nature of an accident to be borne and received by some other thing independent in itself, so as to admit of its bearing and receiving that accident. But the mind of man bears and receives ideas of external images, and intellectual inferences, and both image and inference exist together in the mind, and are again obliterated, a property which is repugnant to accident. The soul, therefore, cannot be an accident. Now, it having been proved that every entity is either an essence or an accident, it follows that the soul is an essence. Q.E.D.

be one.

3d. That it is a simple, is thus demonstrated :— Every thing that exists is either divisible or indivisible. What is indivisible, we here distinguish by the name of simple; and what is divisible, by the name of compound. Now we say that the soul conceives itself to For though it may affirm unity, and its opposite, with regard to other things, still it cannot apply number to itself, so as to admit of one being but a part of itself. Now, if the soul were divisible, by dividing the subject, the property would necessarily be divided also and unity, which is a property of the soul, would be divisible-which is impossible, for unity is indivisible. It therefore follows, that either the soul is indivisible, or that it does not conceive itself to be one. Now the futility of the latter being evident, the former, which was to be demonstrated (viz. its being a simple) is proved.

4th. To shew that it is neither matter nor material : We say all matter is compound and divisible, the proof of which is, that place a material body, admitted to be such, between two other bodies which are in contact with it, on each side,-of necessity that which touches it on one side, cannot touch it on the other, otherwise it would not prevent them from touching each other, and therefore could not be a body between them, but would be a part of these bodies; and as it is in contact, at two separate parts, with two separate things, it must itself be capable of parts; such body being therefore compound, the qualities borne and received by it must likewise be compound; for if the subject be divided, its property is divided also. Of course, nothing that is matter or material can be a simple; now we have shown that the soul is a simple-Hence-the soul can neither be matter nor material.

Again-No matter can receive a new figure or impression, until that which it possesses be removed: Thus, a triangular body cannot become quadrangular, until the triangular figure be removed; and a bit of wax, which has received the impression of a seal, can

not be conceived to possess another impression until the former one be removed; for if any thing of the former impression still remain, they are both confused, and neither complete-and this may be affirmed as a constant and universal property of matter. Now, the nature of the soul is contrary to this; for how many images soever are impressed upon it, whether from reflection or sensation, it receives them all in succession, without the necessity of removing one for the reception of the other, but the whole are completely and perfectly imaged upon it. Nor can it ever happen that, from the number of images impressed, it can be rendered incapable of receiving more; but, on the contrary, the greater the multitude of the images it contains, the greater is, in fact, its facility of acquiring more. And hence it is, that the powers of the mind, and its capacity to receive instruction and knowledge, are increased in proportion to our attainments in science and literature. Now, this property is opposite to the properties of matter-Hence-The soul is not matter. Again-No sense can have a notice of any thing that is not an object of that sense. Thus, vision has notice of no perception that is not visual; and hearing, of none abstracted from sound. Besides, no sense can be sensible of itself, or of its own sensitive organ. For example, the sense of vision neither sees the seër, nor the eye-nor can any sense perceive its own errors. Thus, the eye sees the sun, which is more than one hundred and sixty times larger than the earth, of the same size as the moon, and has no notice of this prodigious mistake. And thus of a tree on the margin of a lake the cause of its apparent inversion in the water can never be perceived by the sense of vision. And the same holds good with regard to the errors of the other senses.

Now, the soul perceives at the same instant the sensations of all the senses-and determines a specific sound to proceed from a specific object of vision, and that this sound is the produce of that object. In the same manner the soul comprehends the distinct power and particular organ of each sense, distinguishes their natures, their frailties and their errors; and of their notices, discriminates which are right and which are wrong; and, of consequence, credits some and rejects others. But it is evident that it does not derive this kind of knowledge from the senses; for it is impossible to obtain from any sense that which it does not possess, nor can it have received from a sense a decision which belies that sense. It is therefore evident that the soul is distinct from the corporeal senses, that it is of a more noble nature, and of more perfect comprehension.

5th. That it conceives by itself, and operates by means of instruments, is proved by its consciousness; for it cannot possibly be conscious by means of an organ or instrument, so as to admit of an instrument between itself and its existence. And it is on this principle that a thing which obtains notices by means of an instrument, cannot comprehend by itself; for, as we have said, the instrument cannot be between it and itself, nor can self, when made a medium, serve as an instrument to self. And this is the meaning of Philosophers in affirming that, with regard to reason, the agent, the thing acted on, and the act, are one and the


That the soul operates by means of instruments, is evident from its perceiving by means of the senses, and communicating motion by means of muscles, tendons, and nerves, the detail of which belongs to Physiology.

That it is not perceived by any of the senses is proved by the senses having no notice of any thing that is not matter or material. Now the soul is neither matter nor material-Hence, it is not perceived by them.

This is what we proposed to discuss regarding the nature of the soul, which may suffice as far as regards what we already affirmed on that subject.

But it is, moreover, to be understood, that the human soul continues to exist after the dissolution of the body,

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Moreover, any person who minutely considers the properties of bodies, has an accurate knowledge of their dependence on the laws of composition and association, decomposition and disjunction, and is well versed in the whole science of the world of corruption and decay. (Chemistry) must know, that no body, whatever, becomes entirely extinguished; but that accidents, modes, composition, association, figures, and qualities which subsist in a compound subject, may be changed while the amount of matter shall still remain the same. For example, water may become air, and air fire, but the matter which receives these three separate appearances will still subsist, otherwise it could not be said that water became air, and air fire; for if an entity should be extinguished, and another produced, so that no sort of junction subsisted between them, it would be impossible to say that one entity became the other entity, or that such matter bore the property of having its forms extinguished and varied. Now, seeing that material substances are not susceptible of annihilation, uncompounded essences, which are purer than base matter, will stand still higher touching the impossibility of annihilation.

The design of discussing this subject is, that every person who shall study this science may hold it certain that the body is a mean or instrument to the soul, as tools and instruments to mechanics and tradesmen, and not, as some have imagined, that the body is its subject or abode; for the soul is neither matter nor material, that it should be connected with subject or abode. Of course the death of the body, with respect to the soul, is no more than the loss of the instruments with respect to the tradesman.

And this position being amply and clearly established, in works of speculative philosophy, by undoubted proofs, what has been said suffice. may But God is omniscient. [This paper was found in the repositories of a late much-esteemed clergyman of this city.]


A QUEER BOOK. By the ETTRICK SHEPHERD. Edinburgh, 1832.

Or late the Ettrick Shepherd has been making himself more notorious by his eccentricities, than by his literary labours, and, among these eccentricities is the name which Mr. Hogg has thought proper to make choice of for this last child of his brain. To call a collection of ballads "a Queer Book," for any other reason than that of catching the public ear by a strange sound, we are at a loss to discover, and, if this be the cause of the baptism, we must be allowed to add, that we think the author of "The Queen's Wake" ought to have been above such charlatanerie. We lately gave our opinion, at some length, of Mr. Hogg's peculiarities as a ballad writer, and the volume before us only confirms us that we were right in what we said. The Ettrick Shepherd has a fine poetical capacity for the ancient Scottish ballad, but he has neither the merit of being a correct antiquary, nor an ingenious imitator, and hence the compositions, which chiefly fill the volume before us, must be regarded not as specimens of those strains in which our forefathers used to indulge, but merely as the powerful imaginings of James Hogg. Of the ballads before us, we are most in love with " The Growsame Carle," "The Witch's Dirge," and "Ellen of Reigh," the conclud

ing portion of which we give as a fair specimen of the volume :

POOR Ellen watch'd the parting strife Of her she lov'd far more than life; The placid smile that strove to tell To her beloved that all was well. Oh, many a holy thing they said, And many a prayer together pray'd, And many a hymn, both morn and even, Was breathed upon the breeze of heaven, Which hope, on wings of sacred love, Presented at the gates above.

The last words into ether melt, The last squeeze of the hand is felt. And the last breathings, long apart, Like aspirations of the heart, Told Ellen that she now was left, A thing of love and joy bereftA sapling from its parent torn, A rose upon a widow'd thorn, A twin roe, or bewilder'd lamb, 'Reft both of sister and of damHow could she weather out the strife And sorrows of this mortal life!

The last rights of funereal gloom,-
The pageant heralds of the tomb,
That more in form than feeling tell
The sorrows of the last farewell,-
Are all observed with decent care,
And but one soul of grief was there.
The virgin mould so mild and meet,
Is roll'd up in its winding sheet;
Affection's yearnings form'd the rest,
The dead rose rustles on the breast,

The wrists are bound with bracelet bands,

The pallid gloves are on the hands,
And all the flowers the maid held dear,
Are strew'd within her gilded bier ;

A hundred sleeves with lawn are pale,
A hundred crapes wave in the gale,
And, in a motley, mix'd array,
The funeral train winds down Glen-Reigh.
Alack! how shortly thoughts were lasting.
Of the grave to which they all were hasting!

The grave is open; the mourners gaze On bones and skulls of former days; The pall's withdrawn-in letters sheen, "Maria Gray-aged eighteen," Is read by all with heaving sighs, And ready hands to moisten'd eyes. Solemn and slow, the bier is laid Into its deep and narrow bed, And the mould rattles o'er the dead!

What sound like that can be conceived?
That thunder to a soul bereaved!
When crumbling bones grate on the bier
Of all the bosom's core held dear;
'Tis like a growl of hideous wrath-
The last derisive laugh of Death
Over his victim that lies under;

The heart's last bands then rent asunder,
And no communion more to be
Till time melt in eternity!

From that dread moment Ellen's soul Seem'd to outfly its earthly goal; And her refin'd and subtle frame, Uplifted by unearthly flame, Seem'd soul alone-in likelihood, A spirit made of flesh and bloodA thing whose being and whose bliss Were bound to better world than this.

Her face, that with new lustre beam'd, Like features of a seraph seem'd ; A meekness, mix'd with a degree Of fervid, wild sublimity, Mark'd all her actions and her moods. She sought the loneliest solitudes, By the dingly dell or the silver spring, Her holy hymns of the dead to sing; For all her songs and language bland Were of a loved and heavenly landA land of saints and angels fair, And of a late dweller there; But, watch'd full often, ears profane Once heard the following solemn strain.

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THE EX-PROVOST'S MAN, bearing a banner, on which is a full-length portrait of the late John Adams, architect of the condemned bridge, under which is inscribed the words, "Out o' sicht, out o' mind."

OPERATIVE LODGE of FREE MASONS in their working clothes, walking backwards, each bearing a mallet in his left hand, and his apron over his face, and laughing in his sleeve. The Wardens bearing iron crowbars instead of Batons, and the Bible Bearer in place of a Bible, carrying a quarto copy of Henderson's Proverbs, opened at the page, where may be seen, "It's an ill win' that blaws naebody gude."

PAISLEY COACHES COVERED WITH BLACK CRAPE. Three abreast, followed by an OMNIBUS, surmounted with sable plumes, in which sits the Lyon King at Arms.

The Engineers of the two Water Companies, each attended by four men with buckets, for the purpose of taking samples of the water, to prove that the water running up is better than the water running down,


City Watchmen, four and four, with their rattles muffled, lanthorns lighted, and without great coats.

Scavengers, four and four, each carrying a broom reversed. [This is meant in compliment to the Lord Chancellor.]

Officers of Police, three and three, with red coats and blue collars, with crape round their left arm.

Sergeant Major. Superintendent of Police. Commissioners of Police,

Three and three, preceded by John M'Larty, carrying a banner with an inscription,

"This is not our doing."


Officer bearing the Langside Banner, renovated for the purpose, and fully mounted with crape. Corporations in reverse order. The Convener with the master court, in an open carriage, expressly built for the occasion, under the immediate direction of the Dilettanti Society.

Two mutes arrayed as sappers and miners, each having a pair of jumpers, and followed by an unknown individual, closely masked and cloaked, with a five-pound canister of gunpowder in one hand, and a lighted match in the other.

CITY OFFICERS, with their coats turned and halberts reversed.
Band of Music, (with drums muffled,)
Playing "Dead March in Saul."

City Magistrates without their chains, and cocked hats reversed, in mud boots, and mounted on Mason's mares with wheels, and dragged by a Locomotive Engine.

CITY CLERKS masked, with a large bundle of Acts of Parliament under their arms. On their hats the words, "We live by Bills."

The Bridge Treasurer, bearing on his back a sack of sovereigns to be thrown into the Clyde, while he holds, in his left hand, the city purse, which is empty.

The Superintendent of Public Works, mounted on a majestic hobby horse on wheels, drawn by two piebald ponys, with his face to the tail, and his eye steadfastly fixed upon the 72d page of the "Annals of Glasgow," while ever and anon he is dropping a tear upon the passage which describes the bridge as one of the handsomest in the world!!!

THE RENFREWSHIRE LAIRDS, blindfolded two and two, led by the nose by particular members of the Town Council; Mr. W. of K- bearing a banner, on which is inscribed "Revolution rather than Reform."

The Bridge Trustees, with their heads shaved and their hands tied, supported by two individuals connected with the Upper Navigation.

* We have given a place to the above Jeu d'Esprit, with the best feelings towards the public functionaries named in it. By doing so, we beg leave distinctly to state, that we mean no disrespect to any one therein alluded to, while for many who may be supposed to figure in the programme, we need hardly add that we entertain the highest personal respect.

THE EDITOR OF THE COURIER, dressed as City Falconer, with two beautiful white Doves on his right hand, collared in crape.

THE LORD PROVOST, in an open barouche, with the regalia and clothing of the R. W. M. of the Grand Lodge of Scotland, reversed, with a gilt mallet in one hand, and a silver crowbar in the other; cocked hat reversed, under which is seen the MS. of the speech proposed to be delivered on the melancholy occasion.

THE REFORM MARSHAL, in a most gorgeous uniform, his baton and cocked hat covered with crape; followed by the citizens of Glasgow and Gorbals, six and six, and preceded by twenty powerloom maidens, chaunting "Hey, Bonny Brig," particularly the following verse:—

Were it not for the weir, no brig could be here,
Or, sunk in the mud, it would soon disappear;
And all the Trustees would look very queer,

When they missed the brig in the morning. transposed into a minor key by a member of the Philharmonic Society.


THE author of Monsieur Tonson, &c. "bade the world good night" last week, and was on Monday buried at the parish church of Bloomsbury. For more than forty years connected with the public press of London, and much with the theatrical world, few men were more generally known to the wide circles of society than Mr. Taylor. He was the son of the celebrated Chevalier Taylor, whose travels over the Continent as the curer of all diseases, boasted an éclat unrivalled in more more modern times. Early introduced by him to life, Mr. Taylor himself practised with considerable reputation as an oculist; but his vocation was for the drama, journalism, and light literature; and he almost entirely gave up his profession to follow these. Mr. Taylor, we presume, wrote a greater number of prologues and epilogues than any man that ever existed; and he also produced an immense multitude of compositions on almost every subject,-friendly tributes on happy, and consolatory verses on sad occasions, lines on pictures, (for he was attached to, and no mean connoisseur in the fine arts,) songs, epigrams, and in short every species of poetical production. Some of his humorous pieces are possessed of great merit: his Monsieur Tonson, for instance, is not surpassed by any thing of the kind in the English language. The small volume in which it appeared had several similar stories of hardly inferior point and merriment, including a story of Hayman and the Lion. In his later years Mr. Taylor published a larger collection of his miscellanies; but they were not deserving of being remembered beyond the period and circumstances which had elicited them. Mr. Taylor also wrote, we believe, a pamphlet on the dispute at the Haymarket Theatre (1791), and the brief biographical sketches which accompanied Cadell's British Gallery of Portraits. He was a clever and well-informed dramatic critic, and lived on terms of intimacy with all the principal performers of his day, being farther connected with the Kemble family by marriage,-his first wife and, we believe, Mrs. Stephen Kemble were sisters. In private Mr. Taylor was known to thousands as a most facetious companion. He was a punster of most invincible perseverance, but often said very witty things; and in his better days was, perhaps, as entertaining in conversation, with anecdote, playfulness, and satire, as any man within the bills of mortality. He was for a long period a proprietor of the Sun newspaper, to which he contributed every sort of authorship to which the columns of a periodical is open. Mr. Taylor was acquainted with many of the most distinguished individuals of the age. By his second marriage, with a Scottish lady of highly respectable family, he has left a son, whose amateur musical talents are of a delightful order. Infirmities and age had of late years withdrawn him much from his wonted places; so that his loss will not be so obvious as if he had fallen in his gayer era, when, indeed, few men could have been more missed, even from the wide society of the metropolis, than John Taylor. It is believed that he has left MSS. of his Reminiscences; and if they embody what used to be his conversation, they must be very amusing.

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This great master of harmony was born at Naples (Capo-diMonte), and educated at the Conservatory of Loretto, where he followed the school of the incomparable Durante. On leaving the Conservatory, he, like all other young composers, had to seek a patron, which he had the good fortune to find in Madame Ballante, whose immense wealth enabled her to afford liberal encouragement to the fine arts. She supported with her patronage the genius of the young musician, and she soon had the satisfaction to perceive that his growing celebrity conferred a considerable degree of honour upon herself. Madame Ballante had a daughter, who heard not with indifference the beautiful voice of Cimarosa giving utterance to his still more beautiful music. She soon loved him deep

ly; and Madame Ballante, with the feelings of a mother who had alone in view the happiness of her child, consented to their union. Its joys were, however, of short duration; for, after a few fleeting months of bliss, the young and tender wife was cut off in the midst of her happiness, and Cimarosa left the widowed father of a son. His grief was overwhelming: but he at length yielded to the entreaties of Madame Ballante to marry again. This lady had adopted and brought up an orphan girl as her child. She took her to Cimarosa: "This, my friend," she said, "is my second daughter." Alas! happiness seemed not destined for a man so peculiarly qualified to enjoy it as Cimarosa. His second wife died very young, leaving him a son and a daughter.

Cimarosa had a fine mind: his feelings were those of a being superior to the best of ordinary men. He had great powers of intellect, and an abundant store of general knowledge, independent of the fine spirituality of his transcendant genius. He sang better than the most celebrated artistes; and his manner of accompanying was beautiful beyond description. My brother, who was a passionate admirer of Cimarosa's compositions, as all must be who can feel music, told me that he once had a musical battle with this celebrated composer, which lasted a whole morning. It was who should first tire the other. Cimarosa was at the piano, and my brother at the harp. The former would give out a subject, and Albert would make variations upon it on his harp. Cimarosa would then sing it in every key, and in every measure, as barcarola, canzonna, polacca, romanza, &c. "These were the most agreeable hours," my brother has often said to me, "that I ever spent.' The facility of improvisation is an extraordinary and enchanting gift of nature, which Cimarosa possessed in rare perfection: and when, at a party, he sang extemporaneously a delightful song, to which he improvised words with marvellous facility, it was impossible to avoid bestowing upon him the epithet of divine, of which my personal admiration of him justifies the use in this work. He was a lively, pleasant companion, fond of laughter; and he possessed in the highest degree, that quality so generally the concomitant of superior genius,-I mean, generosity. How many unfortunate emigrants were succoured by Cimarosa! At Paris, when the beautiful finale of the "Matrimonio," "Pria che spunti," or "Quelle pupille tenere," elicited almost frantic applause, it is well known that the profit of these immortal productions was devoted to assuage the misfortunes of many of our unhappy countrymen. But we were then living under a government unable to appreciate the virtue of such a man. Instead of a civic crown in the name of the admiring country, persecution, fetters, and torture were the rewards bestowed upon Parthenope's brightest glory, for having exercised the most noble philanthropy. It is well known that the persecutions which Cimarosa underwent were the cause of his premature death.

Madame Ballante, also a victim of the troubles which divided their beautiful country, lost all her fortune. A mind like Cimarosa's could only utter accents pure and lovely as his thoughts. He had the happiness to receive his benefactress at his own house. "You are mistress here," said he; "for is not every thing I possess yours? Are you not my mother,-nay, more than mother, my best and dearest benefactress ?"

Cimarosa endeavoured to struggle against royal terrorism, but it was of no avail. Neapolitan terrorism was more exquisitely atrocious than any other, and its cruelty more permanently active; which is saying a great deal. The horrible crimes committed at Naples are generally unknown; but when the eye of historic research shall penetrate that page of iniquity-when it shall behold the murders, the judicial robberies, the religious persecutions-the mind of the honest historian will shrink back with horror. when he afterwards learns that a woman-aye, a woman-commanded the execution of all these horrors, what will he then feel? Cimarosa, scarcely fifty years of age, died on the 10th January, 1801. His name and works will be immortal.



La Coquetterie, a Tale; Sketches of Society in France and Belgium, will shortly appear.

A new edition of the first volume of Colonel Napier's History of the War in the Peninsula, with a Reply to various Opponents, &c. will shortly be published.

A History of the King's German Legion, from its organization in 1803, by Major Ludlow Beamish, is announced for publication.

The Fourth Volume of the Cornwall Geological Transactions will speedily apppear.

Mr. Thackrah, of Leeds, is, we hear, preparing an enlarged edition of his work on Employments as affecting Health and Longevity in general.

The Translator of the "Tour of a German Prince" is, we hear, now translating the Correspondence of Schiller and Goethe, which forms six volumes in the German.

An Introduction to Botany, by John Lindley, Esq. will shortly be published; as also,

An Introduction to the Knowledge of British Birds, for Young Persons, by R. A. Slaney, Esq. M.P.

Mrs. S. C. Hall is preparing for publication a tale, under the title of "The Buccaneer."


FRENCH CRUELTY.-M. de Rocca, of the Legion of Honour, says, on the 14th, we lay at Ocana; and, at three leagues distance from that city. On the morning of the 15th, we met the Spanish prisoners coming from Ucles, on their way to Madrid; many of these wretches sunk under their fatigue, others died of inanition; when they could march no farther, they were shot without mercy. This sanguinary order was given by way of reprisal against the Spaniards, who hanged such Frenchmen as they took prisoners. Such violent measures, taken at an unfavourable moment, against disarmed enemies, whose very weakness should have protected them, could not, in any case, be justified by the necessity of reprisal; besides, these measures, as impolitic as they were cruel, retarded the real end of the proposed conquest, which was the lasting subjection of the vanquished nation. It is true, that the Spanish peasants were thus prevented from joining the armies; but, the result was, that a war of ambuscades took place of open battles, in which our eminent superiority in tactics would probably always have given us means of conquering our enemies, and we might afterwards have subjected, by gentle means, men already half-reclaimed by military discipline. The French were destined, with only 400,000 men, to struggle against twelve millions of beings, animated by hatred, despair and revenge.






N AUTHENTIC REPORT of the PROCEEDINGS of the MEETING, held in the Assembly Rooms, Glasgow, on Tuesday the first May, 1832, "For the purpose of taking into consideration, a Motion for Petitioning Parliament, relative to the Measures contemplated for the Education of the Poor in Ireland." 12mo. Stitched. Price Sixpence.

BISHOP DAVENANT'S Exposition on the Epistles to the Colossians, translated, with a Dissertation on the Death of Christ, by the Rev. Josiah Allport, 2 vols. 8vo. cloth, 28s.

In the Press, and will be published on Wednesday, THE LITTLE GIRL'S OWN BOOK. By MRS. CHILD. Illustrated with many Wood Cuts. 18mo. price 4s. 6d. in extra cloth boards. 5s. gilt edges. 6s. 6d. elegantly bound in Mor


The Publishers, in offering this improved edition of Mrs. Child's book to the public, think it proper to state, that the work has undergone a complete revisal, and that all the Americanisms, so dangerous for Children, have been translated into English. Particular care has also been taken in excluding what, in this Country, is considered as not properly the Amusement of Girls.

To be Published on the 1st of June,

Dedicated by Permission to His Majesty. In one Volume, Octavo. Price 12s. extra cloth boards. A few copies on Imperial Writing Paper, £5, 5s. BIBLIOTHECA SCOTOCELTICA; or, an Account of all the Books which have been Printed in the Gaelic Language. With Bibliographical and Biographical Notices. By JOHN REID.

Just Received,

THE WESTERN LITERARY JOURNAL, (an Ayr Periodical,) No. 10, for April, 8vo. 6d. A few of the former numbers still on hand.

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THE letter, containing a poetical "Address to a Pair of Curling Tongs," has been, with some other M.S. S. handed to Auntie Pyet, to be used as papillotes.

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