THE IDOLATRY OF JUGGERNAUTH.

THE usual influx of pilgrims at this epoch is immense: crowds of votaries are already assembled in the town, or are wearily plodding their way towards this Mecca of their hopes. But their numbers decrease yearly, and the sanctity of Juggernauth wanes in proportion to the progress of civilization in India. The mad fanaticism which formerly led hundreds of voluntary victims to immolate themselves beneath the wheels of the idol's car-an offering which is said to extract a ghastly smile of delight from the blood-loving Dagon-is now much sobered down. Sterling mentions that, during the four years in which he witnessed the ceremony, Juggernauth was only propitiated with three sacrifices; and that these wretches, being afflicted with some grievous bodily complaints, merely embraced that method of ridding themselves of a miserable existence, as preferable to the more common-place suicide of hanging or drowning. The average number of pilgrims annually resorting to Poree is said to be about one hundred and twenty thousand, many of whom are destined never to return. Thousands of these poor wretches die from famine, over-fatigue during the journey, or from the pernicious climate of the rainy season, and their corpses, thrown on the sands near the English station; are either burnt, or left to be devoured by the troops of Pariah dogs, jackals, and vultures, with which this place, so rich in food for them, swarms. The chaplain of the district assured me that he had himself seen, on the space of half an acre of ground, as many as one hundred and fifty bodies, with twice as many of the above-named scavengers fighting over their horrid feast,

"As they lazily mumbled the bones of the dead, When they scarcely could rise from the spot where they fed!" At the festival of the Rath Jattra, the idols are conducted in state to visit their country seat, one mile and a half from Poreea journey of three days. By all accounts, the method of inducting their worships from the temple to their raths or car, is not remarkably ceremonious. Ropes being fastened round their throats, they are dragged, "neck and heels," down the grand steps, through the mud, and are finally hauled by the same gallows-like process into their respective vehicles, where they are decorated by the priests, and welcomed by shouts of admiration and triumph from the fanatical multitude. The raths, on which the monsterdeities are drawn, are of lofty and massive dimensions and clumsy architecture: that of Sri Jeo is nearly forty-five feet in height, has a platform of thirty-five feet square, and moves upon sixteen wheels of solid timber. At first sight it appears even worse than strange and inconsistent, that the same government which encourages the religious endeavours of hundreds of missionaries to convert the Hindoos to the Christian faith, should virtually countenance (as the cavillers against the company on this muchcanvassed point insist that it does) the most revolting idolatry, by making it a source of revenue. It is certain that the E. I. Company, by the pilgrim-tax, secure to themselves an annual average amount of fifteen thousand pounds; that the collections are made by the Brahmins; and that in return for this extortion -startling fact!-a Christian government agrees to keep in repair, and adorn with silks and broad-cloths, a pagan idol: and to support, for the private use of the graven image, a stud of elephants and horses! The defenders of the system on the other hand, contend that the interference of the company is salutary in every respect; that it controuls a rapacious and unprincipled priesthood by depriving them of an immense revenue; and that the mode pursued is the one best calculated to bring about the final suppression of the idol. It is, indeed, manifest, that taxation is any thing but encouraging to the thing taxed; and it is obvious to every one, that open and violent opposition to a rite so firmly rooted in the religious prejudices of the natives might shake the allegiance of our Hindoo sepoys, and thereby involve even the loss of India.-Capt. Mundy's Indian Sketches.

M. ABEL REMUSAT.

THE republic of letters has lately sustained a severe loss in the death of M. Abel Remusat. As a general, and especially an oriental scholar, he had occupied a very distinguished place; but in the Chinese, that most interesting and least accessible branch of eastern literature, he was absolutely unrivalled by any who, like him, had devoted their talents to this difficult pursuit, without the enjoyment of any of those peculiar advantages which a long residence in China, and frequent intercourse with the natives, alone could confer.

His amiable manners and character, and his liberal views and conduct, saved him, in great measure, from participating in those degrading personalities and party differences which have too often injured the cause and impeded the advancement of letters in France; and he won his way to its highest honour, in the course of a distinguished literary career of above twenty years, with the most cordial approbation of every scholar who was qualified to appreciate his merits. The Asiatic Society of Paris, of which institution he was long secretary, and some time president, owes its existence chiefly to his exertions; and at the death, in 1825, of that distinguished orientalist, M. Langles, he was most deservedly appointed his successor in the charge of the Royal Library, with,

subsequently, the title of Chinese Professor,-an appointment expressly created in his favour.

It would be invidious to compare M. Remusat's attainments in Chinese literature with those of the Rev. Dr. Morrison, who is well known to possess, in addition to a degree of zeal and perseverance which nothing short of the superior motives of religion can inspire, advantages and opportunities altogether peculiar to himself, arising from his long residence among the natives of China, and his official station in the service of the East India Company. M. Remusat's early works in the Chinese language, although wonderful as the productions of an unassisted scholar in the retirement of his closet at Paris, are certainly not without their faults; but his chief and most elaborate work, his translation of a Chinese novel in four volumes, entitled "Iu-kiao-li; ou, les Deux Cousines," has been pronounced by competent judges in this country, who have read the work in the original, (and compared parts of it with M. Remusat's translation, with an express view to criticism,) a most able and faithful version. It is impossible to pay it a higher compliment than to state, that it is a worthy pendant to the elegant and accurate version of the "Pleasing History," another Chinese novel, of still higher interest, by our countryman, Mr. Davis.

At the period of his decease, M. Remusat was engaged in two very important works illustrative of the reigning superstitions of the Chinese, their first introduction from India, and their derivation from Buddhism. Both these works it was his intention to have transmitted to this country for publication, under the auspices of that very interesting institution lately established in London under the title of the Oriental Translation Fund. The specimens which were submitted on this occasion to the committee of management of the Fund, are alone sufficient to convey a high idea of the loss which oriental literature has sustained, from the circumstance of this amiable and distinguished scholar having been thus prematurely carried off, in the midst of his honourable and useful

career.

Besides several minor works, and numerous essays and criticisms under his signature in the "Journal des Savans," M. Remusat was the author of a very valuable and curious collection, in four volumes, entitled "Melanges Asiatiques, ou, Recueil de Morceaux de Critique et de Memoires relatifs aux Religions, aux Sciences, aux Coutumes, a l'Histoire et a la Geographie des Nations Orientales."

FOREIGN LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

ORIENTAL.-Von Hammer, the celebrated Orientalist, has lately published a Persian translation of the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, with the view of exciting the attention of Eastern nations to the literature of the West. The translator has selected the work of the philosophical Emperor, as better adapted to oriental readers than any of the classical writers of the Republic; and he has published it in Persian, as the language of a nation more free from prejudices, and more susceptible of scientific and literary culture than most other eastern nations. The work is printed in Greek and Persian, and we shall be glad to find it extensively patronized.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

THE JAGER'S SONG.

Translated from the "Leyer and Schwert" of Körner.

Arouse, ye Jagers, bold and free,
Your rifles in your hand;

To courage must the tyrant yield,
Rush on the foe-rush to the field,
'Tis for your Fatherland.

From east, west, north, and south, we come,
Revenge, revenge, to hail;

From Oder's banks, the Wesey-Maine,
From Elbe's broad stream, from father Rhine,
And from the Danube's vale.
Though distant, still we're brothers all,
That swells our valour's flood;
One language knits the hallow'd band,
We own one God, one Fatherland,

The same true German blood.
We have not left our Father's hearths,
For plunder or for spoil;
To crush a foreign despot's power.
Joyful, we court the battle hour,
That well is worth our toil.

To those who love us true and well,
The Lord shall be a shield:
Then why now spare our bravest blood,
Since Liberty's the highest good,
Gained on the gory field?
Come, gallant Jagers, bold and free,
Heed not your true love's woe:
God aids us in this honest strife,
Rush on to glorious death or life-
Up, Brothers, on the foe.

LONDON GOSSIP...

He

SIR WALTER SCorr has arrived in London, and is alarmingly ill. In descending the Rhine, he had another attack of paralysis, and, but for the presence of mind of his servant, who ventured to bleed him on the spot, it would, it is believed, have proved fatal. has quite lost the use of one side, and but little hopes are entertained of his recovery. We have heard this with more regret than surprise. Letters from Naples and Rome stated many painful circumstances, which we did not make public, because we knew that the constant reference to the subject was distressing to the family. At both places, it was observed, that, in the midst of his natural gaiety of heart and spirit, he sometimes became suddenly silent, and seemingly forgetful of the subject of conversation. Yet his presence diffused joy wherever he went. At times, and in the social circle, he threw a spell over every one. Among his friends at. Naples, was one gentleman well acquainted with all manner of Italian tales and traditions, and who took much pleasure in relating them; Sir Walter listened to the wildest with evident satisfaction, and then met it with a Scotch or English story and so the evening hours flew on. He there gathered many Sicilian traditions, and much relating to the popular disturbances in that fine island. Wherever he went, the honours paid to him and to Miss Scott, were little short of regal; she was handed out, before the ladies of foreign ministers, and he was the only person, besides the king, who was allowed to ride in a carriage through the silent streets of Pompeii. Let us yet hope that he will recover.

it

*

Painters, Sculptors, and Architects, are now holding jubilee. The King has sanctioned the erection of a splendid structure in Pall Mall East, capable of containing a National Gallery and accommodating the whole establishment of the Royal Academy, Including apartments for the Keeper and Secretary, as well as rooms for the exhibition of painting and sculpture. An address from the Academy has been presented to His Majesty respecting ty and a meeting of all the Members is summoned for the 20th, to take the King's gracious speech into consideration. The design, already prepared by Mr. Wilkins. Art may be said, Circumstance, to be reviving. We have seen an unfinished proof of a portrait of Wordsworth, from a painting by Boxall, which, from its fine mental likeness, we have, no doubt will please many. We have also seen a slight sketch of the painting of the Procession of the Flitch of Bacon," by Stothard, which has pleased us not a little. It is intended as a companion to the far famed "Canterbury Pilgrimage," and exhibits an equal if not greater variety of action and force of character; the activity of the minstrels who, with instruments of music, lead the procession, the beauty of the maidens who strew the way with flowers, the modest elegance of the happy pair, whose twelve months' abstinence from hard words or dark looks have won the rustic prize, and the air of gladness and joy which reigns over all, will, we have no doubt, make the engraving, which will shortly be published, a favourite with the public.

66

We hear that there is some chance of seeing one or two of the ancient Egyptian Obelisks in this country. The Viceroy of Egypt, -zómé-dozen years or more ago, offered us one then at Alexandria: we calculated and doubted till the French stept in, who neither calculate nor doubt, and obtained what we had delayed to take. -We are now offered two which stand on the banks of the Nile at Karnac, and several enterprising engineers have been consulted about their removal. It is said, that a certain official personage, who never aids any enterprise but what originates with himself, bas-torned hitherto a cold ear to the proposition, and doubts our ability to remove such stupendous masses. They are nearly fifteen feet sunk in the sandthey are almost a quarter of a mile from swater to float them, and there is no timber in the land to make rafts or form platforms :—but what of that? they can be removed, and we hope they will.

Those who delight in art should look in at Mr. Phillips's, in Bond-street, and get a sight of Mr. Emmerson's pictures-they are works of a very high class; among them are two beautiful Ruysdaels, some splendid Cuyps, Rembrandt's Father's Mill, the same mill which occurs in his celebrated etching, and numberless other fine things. We are also glad to find that modern pictures, selected with judgment, are not a bad investment.

We all re

member the high prices bid for Lord Mulgrave's Wilkies; and at the sale of Mr. Trant's pictures, by Mr. Foster last week, a small Coast Scene by Bonington brought 230 guineas! These things are encouraging to the patrons,

Though few works of much promise are announced, yet we can see by the increase of advertisements and certain stirrings in the trade, that literature is looking up a little.. Readers are beginning to lay the newspapers sooner aside, and books are now to be found in hands which lately touched only political tracts. There is some talk of the formation of an Academy of Literature; this could be accomplished in a week by a movement among influential men: no one will pretend that the Royal Society of Literature represents the genius of the nation; it contains many members who, except as readers of books, have no connexion with either verse or prose, and it has left out many popular writers-men who are likely to be heard of hereafter. We want a full and complete association of men of genius, and of men of genius only; the number of members should not be limited, as in the Royal Academy of Arts, but all should be admitted who can produce a work marked by original talent, or by great research or deep learning.

This week has been unparalleled in English musical history, for the number and variety of musical performances. Three French operas, two Italian, one German, and four benefit concerts, have been given at the King's Theatre alone-all crowded! and yet the English are not a musical people.

We are glad that we can quiet the nerves of our fashionable readers, by informing them that permission has been just received from the authorities in Paris, for the French company to remain a fortnight longer at the King's Theatre.-Athenæum.

FORTHCOMING BILLS, BY THE WOULD-BEMEMBERS FOR GLASGOW.

WHAT is this world to come to? We deemed it utterly impossible that any one man could conform to one tithe of the 25 articles of the Prentician Creed, by preparing bills for the better government of this ill-governed nation; but we have been mistaken: for lo! a candidate for Parliamentary Honours has sent us the heads of no less than 10 bills, all of which he means to bring forward whenever he has an opportunity of exercising his lungs in St. Stephen's. We can only give the titles of his legislative labours, but these are enough to convince the public of his great political capabilities.

2. A Bill for restraining the "aggressive impulse," and propagating political knowledge in a sextuple ratio, by means of steam acting retroactively upon brain railways....

3. A Bill for the universal "scatterment" of enormous unemployed masses of inert capital.

4. Another Bill for the expurgation of the words MINE and THINE from the English language.

5. A Bill for regulating all matrimonial connections upon the happiness-maximising principle of triennial marriages.

6. A Bill for the abolition of all Duns, and for an equitable ́adjustment of all scores, by scoring them out brevi manu,

7. A Bill declaring it to be the imperscriptible right of all men to enjoy the good things of this world in common, no matter by whose labour these good things were acquired.

8. A Bill declaring every man his own judge in his own cause, our present courts of law being so expensive and corrupt. 9. A Bill rendering it imperative on every member of Parlia ment to bring in at least 25 new laws each Session, for the purpose of cleaning the Augean stable of our General Statute Book. 10. A Bill declaring the annihilation of a Chameleon High Treason.

GLASGOW LITERARY NOVELTIES.

We understand that the author of the Ant and the Chameleon has in contemplation the following valuable productions: The LITERARY LEOPARD, Or Spots of Learning," in one volume quarto.

“THE ZEBRA, or Stripes of Intellect," an Epigramatic Annual.

By the same restless and indefatigable author, “THE DODO," or the Gigantic Remains of the Feathered Kingdom; an Epie Poem, in 84 cantos, to be elegantly printed, in 3 vols. elephantine folio, and illustrated with numerous cuts, This stupendous work, we believe, is to be dedicated to the worshipful Society of Trunkmakers.

On Castle Building, in all varieties, and the Progress of Modern Ruins, by J. E., L.L, D. D. M. M. C. G.

Views from the Fir Park, and Subterranean Explorations, by Necropolis Sawlie, Esq. author of an Essay on Sepulchres, and other lively and delectable works.

A new edition of the whole Art of Gull Catching, with a Preliminary Discourse, by the author of the Essay on Beauty; and Notes, Historical and Political, by The Complete Letter Writer" of Glasgow, addressed to the Working Classes.

An Essay on the True Theory of Squatting in a Chair, and presiding at Meetings, of whose objects we know nothing, by a Suffering Protestor, and Clerk of the Tolls.

How to Live, or a Treatise on the Art of getting up Public Subscriptions for Political Purposes, and applying them to Private Uses, by an eminent Hand.

An Essay on " Mites," by the same author.

A Treatise on the Habits of the Moth, by a Theoretical Member of the Temperance Society. On the Use and Abuse of Latin Noms de Guerre, by Lucius Verus.

PUBLISHED, every Saturday Morning, by JouN FINLAY, at No. 9, Miller Street; and Sold by JOHN WYLIE, Argyll Arcade; DAVID ROBERTSON, and W. R. M1PHUN, Glasgow; THOMAS STEVENSON, and the other Booksellers, Edinburgh : DăVID DICK, and A. Gardner, Booksellers, Paisley : A. LAING, Greenock and J. GLASS, Bookseller, Rothsay.

PRINTED BY JOHN GRAHAM, MELVILLE PLACE

No. 112.]

PRICE TWOPENCE.

[TWORK

HOWEVER painful it may be to bid those farewell with whom we have been so long on so agreeable and so familiar a footing, the task must be done. Since our last publication, circumstances have occurred which have determined us, for the present, to desist from our literary labours. The reasons of such a resolution it is of little importance to declare, since justification is unnecessary when no objection is made. Whether the cessation of our papers will raise any enquiry, will occasion joy to some, or give pain to others, are questions which a few days will shew, and a few more set at rest. For ourselves, we may only say, that having succeeded in our undertaking far beyond our first anticipations, we now lay down our pen with all the pleasure which a relief from the toil and anxiety of pleasing the public, must ever occasion. The unwillingness of mankind to admit of any merit is so great, that those who have obtained the least reputation, should be exceedingly careful not to run the risk of losing it. We have seen a single failure ruin the reputation of years; for weakness and error will be always remembered by that malice and envy which it gratifies.

When we commenced our little publication, we foresaw many difficulties which a purely literary paper like "The Day" had to encounter. The highly excited state of public feeling, relative to the Reform question, we were sensible was by no means propitious for a work which may be laid aside or resumed at pleasure, nor could we hope that much attention would be paid to pictures of private life or to dreams of fancy, at a time when all were so deeply alive to the momentous state of public affairs. But, besides this disadvantage with which "The Day" has had to contend, it had also a disadvantage arising from the place of its publication. To use the words of a celebrated writer, "there is a certain distance at which writings, as well as men, should be placed, in order to command our attention and respect. We do not easily allow a title to instruct or to amuse the public, in our neighbour with whom we have been accustomed to compare our abilities." In a place so narrow as Glasgow, home productions will ever be received with fastidiousness, and, although the literary manufactures of certain of her sons may be hailed with pleasure, on their being presented to them through the medium of metropolitan middlemen, the labours of the same individuals, when published in the city of their production, should they chance to be grave, will be called dull, if ludicrous will be termed low, and if pathetic will be pronounced unnatural.

own

Such disadvantages, and many more that might be enumerated, "The Day" had to struggle with; but, in spite of these, its conductors rejoice in the fact, that they have shown that a purely literary paper may be carried on to upwards of an hundred numbers, a circumstance, which they believe never before occurred in this city.

As we said in the first number, our Journal was VOL. II.-No. 9.

undertaken upon public grounds, and we willingly leave it to our readers to say, whether we have not fulfilled the principles and opinions we set forth with in that number. We know not what may be their reply, but we can say, that it has been our most earnest endeavour to do so, and if we have not been so far successful as to gain the approbation of those monopolists of public favour, who wish not only to enjoy but to guide it, we are in hopes, that even these will grant that our publication has at least done us no dishonour.

The merits and the demerits of "The Day" are now before the public, and to its fiat we must bow. We must be permitted, however, to say, that whatever its opinions of our labours may be, the publication of our paper has afforded, to each and all of its contributors, an amusement at once elegant and useful. In tracing the manners and sentiments of other men, they have done what may tend to improve, to cultivate and refine their own, and in that society which was formed by this publication, they "have drawn somewhat closer the ties of a friendship, which they flatter themselves they may long enjoy with a recollection not unpleasing, of the literary adventure by which it was strengthened and improved."

Courteous Reader! we find that we must now bid thee farewell; though not without the hope that we may yet be allowed through some other channel, more esteemed, because more distant, to hold another téte a téte with thee.

Desine Mænalios, mea tibia, desine cantus.

ONE WORD MORE.

As our citizens have always been fond of applying the principles of political economy to every subject, we cannot suppose that they will allow a favourite publication to sink into its grave without indulging their theoretical propensities. The announcement with which we this day terminate our labours will, no doubt, excite considerable discussion, and no questions can be expected to be more frequent than the following:-In what manner will the authors, who derived their subsistence from this useful periodical, find an occupation for their talents in future? Will the intellectual wealth which has been so long concentrated in this market be turned, like the capital of a merchant, into a new, channel? Will the hands which are now thrown idle by the cessation of their business resume, elsewhere, the literary manufacture? And, finally, will the supply of wit and industry which each of these individuals possesses, in addition to what he consumes in his family circle, accumulate upon his hands into a dead stock, or continue, by its active divulgation, to give vigour and health to a principal branch of the country's prosperity. Every one will see how important is this subject of consideration, as it deeply affects one of our principal interests, namely, that of literature. During the period which it has existed, "The Day" has furnished constant employment to a score or two of pens, and has been, in fact, the mart, when every one who had the commodity of learning or fancy to dispose of, might come and offer it to the public. This emporium is now shut, and it may be feared by some that the sonnet venders and story weavers who have been accustomed to resort thither, will find some difficulty in getting another market for their wares, and will thus be forced to withdraw their productive industry from the service of their country. Our apprehensions, however, do not reach to such an extent as to make us anticipate very disastrous consequences from this event: on the contrary, we have reasons for believing, that the blow will fall much less heavily both on individuals, and on the community at large, than will be commonly imagined. In the first place, no doubt, it will destroy the hopes of a large number of quill drivers, who are at present subsisting on the idea of obtaining a place in our poet's corner, or procuring an extensive reputation by the insertion of some ingenious enigma. Some thousand poetasters may mourn over their occupation gone, and several tribes of acrostic makers be ruined. But even these

disadvantages will not be without their palliatives, and we doubt whether, by closing our letter box, we shall not give to society the services of men who have been hitherto very little useful to it, and convert a generation of sonneteers into a sobered and sensible limb of the political body.

We have spoken of those sutlers and camp followers who, under the designation of anonymous correspondents, have sought from time to time to fill a vacant space in the bright array of our literary phalanx. Reader! in what terms shall we give thee the adieus of thy constant comrades the Council of Ten, and in what manner shall we assure thee, that the breaking up of their confederacy shall not seriously injure the comfort of any one of the individuals who have so long enjoyed thy affectionate sympathy? Assure thyself, that they enjoy opportunities which it is not the lot of every one to possess, and that they will find some outlet by which they may give vent to the superabundance of their faculties, even when they have ceased to labour for thy amusement in their corporate capacity. The sentimentalist may still awake thy finer feelings through the columns of a magazine, the antiquarian may imitate the merchant of Horace, and embark his wares for thy delectation in another bottom, and the theatrical critic may exercise his descriptive talent in composing paragraphs for a newspaper, and scattering the flowery rhetoric of smiling faces and golden skies over a steam-boat trip, while others who are in the sere leaf of age, or who prefer the dignified ease of retirement to the temptations of a busy life, may retire from public view, and, hugging to their bosoms the fond remembrance of thy smiles and tears, exercise for their own, amusement those light labours with which they have beguiled thy leisure hours.

NOTHING has amused us more, during our protracted editorship, than the complacency with which certain individuals have, in our presence, assumed the honour of having contributed to "The Day," and stated, with a nod of self-gratulation, the article, which was always the best in the number, they had sent to our publication. Whilst we could not but, at times, envy the smile which beauty granted their modest declaration, we felt it unnecessary to state the whole truth on the occasion. If such assumption can really gratify any person, let him assuredly have the benefit of it. We can, at any time, pluck off his borrowed plumes, and, under the disguise of the gorgeous peacock, discover the impertinent mag pie. Another subject of laughter has been to us the different excuses that have been invented to save the Croesuses of Glasgow, one penny per day, the expense of our publication, when in its most palmy state. "It has fallen off, of late," says one subscriber, “I shall give it up," it did not come till a quarter after nine, yesterday;" says a second, "I shall give it up;"" it contained a personal attack;" says a third, "I shall give it up." Now, had our work really been uniformly guilty of such misdemeanours, we would have "given it up" too, but, that a periodical which has extended to one hundred and twelve numbers, avowedly a receptacle for the light literature of the day, should only once, twice or thrice be subject to such accusations, is one of the most gratifying compliments that could have been paid to its conductors. But, whilst we thus laugh at the excuses made to save a paltry subscription of one penny, we have been tickled into a broader grin by the criticisms of our real well-wishers and steady friends. It was but the other night, when the merits and demerits of our work were kindly criticised in our company, "You are connected with 'The Day,' said an old friend. We bowed majestically. "It does you credit," he stated, "but why, wherefore, and for what reason do you admit such communications as those of Miss Matchless? Such flimsy trifling will not do, you must aim at higher game." We felt disconsolate when a lady in the company immediately espoused our cause, and declared "that the only things that induced her to read The Day' were, the papers-the delightful papers on the Assembly, the Fashions for the month, and the correspondence of Miss Matchless, and the Advertising Bachelor." Like the coffin of Mahomet, we suspended our own opinion betwixt the opposing ideas of our friends. It was an illustration of the truth that "it is impossible to please every body." We were now addressed by a vulgar-looking person, who informed us he had given up his paper in consequence of being considered by his friends as Baillie Pirnie, but, no sooner had he said so, than we recollected a letter received from an eminent literary character in Edinburgh, of which the following extract came readily to our recollection, " your little periodical thrives delightfully. Its blood and soul, however, are the admirable memoranda of Pirnie. I may add, too, that the letters from Hogg in London' are unique, and display antiquarian knowledge, as well as poetical power, indicating the production of no ordinary mind." Again, we exclaimed, "It is impossible to please every body."

"Who sends you that stuff about Goethe and German literature, who cares for it ?" said an indignant subscriber. We placed in his hand, a note we had just received by the foreign mail." Vienna, 1st April, 1832,--Your work is much admired here, we value your opinion on subjects connected with German Literature very highly, and trust you will continue to devote part of your columns to that subject." Again, we thought "it is impossible to please every body."

"These horrid stories of the Burkers," cried Amelia, and she

grew pale at the recollection, but her brother immediately added, "the most powerful and striking articles that have ever appeared." We added, "It was impossible to please every body."

"I have never seen a good article in the poetical department," said a gentlemen whose "sonnets” and “stanzas" have more than once been rejected; but, we felt quite comfortable under such a remark, recollecting the verses which had first appeared in The Day," and had gone the round of all the newspapers in the kingas dom. "In the poetical department even, we cannot please every body." * 150 gr Barel

We conclude with remarking that, in whatever way we pursue” fame, whether in Prose, Poetry, Painting, Science, or Patriotisin, those who criticise are far more numerous than those who reflect, and that, however honourable the motives, and however successful in general, the efforts may be, to deserve approbation, let the grand truth go abroad, for the benefit of future periodical literature, that it never will be possible to please every body.

THE ADVERTISING BACHELOR'S FAREWELL.

MR. EDITOR, The urbanity with which my communications have been received by "The Day" shall always be remembered with gratitude. I enclose the last communication I intend to write. I have been unable to achieve a single conquest in Glasgow, and, consequently, the object of my residence here has been frustrated. Such has been my fate before, as sufficiently illustrat ed in my courtship of Miss Ranger.

One morning, immediately after my attaining majority, my father called me aside, and informed me that it was his wish I should become a partner with him in business. He stated, that he did not doubt my acceptance of an offer so liberal, but that he could not fulfil it without a condition on my part. I was, of course, extremely anxious, to know what this condition might be, when he informed me, he disapproved of my attendance as an ama-s teur at the winter concerts, and that I spent too much - time in perusing periodical literature. My parent forgot the changes that.... occur in the long space of forty-five years. "Instead of concerts and fiddling," cried he, "you shall take a rubber at whist with. the parson, your aunt and myself, and, for your studies, I recom mend every thing in English literature, from the reign of Elizar beth until the publication of the Spectator." Whist I never could endure; but I bowed, in silent acquiescence, to my father's>-comi\/ mands. His proposed range of literature was sufficiently extensive, i and, in a few days, I discontinued my subscription to the European Magazine and the Cabinet, and commenced the writings of William d Shakespeare. I believe that, in selecting the particular period of¤ English literature that he did, my father never dreamed I would: select the poetry of the era, and much less the theatrical poetry of Shakespeare. His own tremendous prejudices led him away from even permitting such a suspicion. He could never name^, the play-house but in accents of wrath, and he often declared that nothing but the most urgent cause would ever induce him to honour a theatre with his company. As to the poetry of the ** stage, he could see no merit in it, and wondered how Shakespeare " had derived his fame. With such prejudices as these I did not ⠀ attempt to contend. I never had been a play-goer, but now that I was debarred from music as a resource in my vacant hours, and the squibs and amusement of the lighter periodicals was denied { me, I confess, after reading Romeo and Juliet, I had an invincible anxiety to see it performed. I shall never forget the pleas sure I derived from its first perusal, which was only increased by⠀ a second and a third. How immeasurably does its author leave every rival, as soaring with a flight, and on a wing, peculiarly his own, he imbibes, as it were, the brilliancy of the solar fount itself, /and breathes, in the most melifluous verse, thoughts which could -* only be derived from his high communings with the spheres! By frequently perusing the play I have mentioned, I at length could almost repeat its most eloquent passages. These I occasionally quoted in conversation, and the surprise that ensued when I averred that I had never seen it acted, was only equalled by the mortification I felt in being obliged to confess so awkward a truth.

My father, at an early period of life, had been elected governor of our city hospital, and never was a situation in any public institution more honestly or faithfully filled. Night and day, morning and evening, his thoughts and desires were bent on the surest mode of increasing its funds, and diminishing its annual expense. A letter arrived, at this time, from Cornwall, intimating, that an old gentleman was about to depart this life, and, as he had neglected the poor when he had the opportunity of relieving them, he had determined to leave a sum to different charitable institutions, and particularly named that over which my father presided. He lost not a moment upon receiving this intelligence, but hastened, that if possible he might add another cypher to the donation, and to represent the necessity, in the testator's case, of an extensive and liberal donation. The noise of his departing carriage was scarcely unheard, when I wandered forth, doubtful in what manner I should spend the evening, when my eyes were, arrested by a huge play-bill, intimating the performance of Romeo and Juliet "the part of Juliet by Miss Matilda Ranger, her first appearance in this city"—the temptation was too strong for me. In vain did I endeavour to banish all remembrance of it from my mind. I became irresistably impatient until the hour arrived, and hurried, as soon as it struck, to the third form

4

from the orchestra, where I might not only see the performance, but also the performers. Juliet at length appeared, and a more lovely creature I never beheld. She was tall, yet beautifully proportioned, her eyes were dark and intelligent, and, ere long, I observed them frequently look to the direction where I sat, and, at length, positively and undoubtedly, turned towards me. A person next me in the pit, noticed her love-glance and congratulated me on my conquest. A circumstance, so unusual, gave rise to a thousand tender emotions in my heart-I retired to my dwelling but not to sleep-I determined, if possible, to have an interview with a lady who was so decided in her attachment, and, as the most eligible plan of obtaining it, I called to my aid the Muse, and sent Miss Ranger the following sonnet, intimating, that I should wait upon her to request her opinion of it next day. TO MISS MATILDA RANGER, ON SEEING HER IN THE CHARACTER OF JULIET.-[By an admirer.]

How tranquilly thy mellow numbers fall,

On the rap't soul--as midnight voices seem

To poet's ear to hold a festival,

Of richest music, and in airy dream, Floating, luxuriant, on its gliding stream, The soul, rejoicing in the glorious sight

Of hill and dale, and distant stretching vales, As in ethereal azure now it sailsHow does it spurn away mortality While all the darker passions droop and die! And thus thy voice, soft as the breathing flute

Soothing, not sad-by bounteous nature given,
Forbids my humble Muse should now be mute-
Or fear to tell the gift your Bard would prize,
One gentle look from those benignant eyes!

A special messenger was appointed to carry this offering to the fair actress, and, next forenoon, I followed it myself. Our interview was most interesting-she narrated to me the history of her misfortunes-informed me that her father was at one time an opulent merchant, who was afterwards reduced by misfortune, and that she had adopted the stage, not as a profession, but as a resource. Our friendship continued during the whole time of her engagement. She very soon discovered I had first-rate talents for the stage; I indulged her with several specimens of recitation. When, one day, as I took leave of her, with a squeeze of my hand and a most impressive look, she informed me, that she was about to request a very great and particular favour, which, however, she would not state until we met. I could not imagine what this could be. Money, she assured me, she despised, and it was not without some anxiety, I waited upon her next day, to be enlightened on the subject. She then informed me her benefit was fixed for the following Wednesday-that she had witnessed with wonder and delight my histrionic powers, and that she hoped. I would not think her rude, in requesting, that I would act the part of Romeo at her benefit. The smiles of the ladies, the applause of the gen tlemen, the envy of the regular actors, and above all, the approbation of her I loved, decided me at once, nor did I feel hesitation in promising to lend her one hundred and fifty pounds, to assist in the necessary expenses, which were to be incurred, by a new melo-dramatic afterpiece, that was to conclude the bill of fare on the occasion. I shall pass over the hard study of several days, and merely state, that "The part of Romeo by a Young Gentleman” figured in all the bills, and that every box was taken. The night arrived I left my father's house, and proceeded to the Theatre. The preliminary scenes having been gone through, I heard the prompter call "enter Romeo"-I advanced, and the audience applauded to the very echo, but I could observe in one quarter, a person was rather obstreperous, I accordingly turned my back upon that part of the house, folded my arms and commenced, "Ah me, sad hours seem long.

Was that my Father that went hence so fast?" When a voice replied behind me, "Yes, sirrah, but he returned before you were aware," and I immediately received such a blow from a stick, upon the nether man, that all the attractions of the scene could not induce me to try the chance of its repetition -all the side passages were nailed up to prepare for the balcony scene, and three times, round the stage, did my indignant parent pursue me, adding, as he recovered his breath, epithets anything but complimentary. The audience during the whole of this scene, was convulsed with laughter-the manager in vain begged for indulgence the green curtain was at length lowered, and terminated forever my theatrical career, On arriving at home, I ascertained that my father had returned from his journey, in very bad humour; the sick gentleman having recovered, and refused to pay even the expenses incurred in travelling to attend him; that as soon as he alighted, he asked for me, and, finding a letter from the manager of the Theatre, adressed to me, and giving various hints concerning the dress I ought to appear in, he at once comprehended the occupation. I was engaged in, and immediately determined to act on the offensive..

Next morning, he obliged me as a man of honour to promise, that for five years I should never enter a Theatre. This promise I have kept, which is more than I have been able to do, with my one hundred and fifty pounds; for, on calling at Miss Ranger's former dwelling place the same forenoon, I was informed she had left town at six o'clock morning, in the mail, and although she had

not paid her landlady all that was due, she had neglected to leave her address. The landlady permitted this in consequence of her stating, that she had left a valuable letter for me, which was not to be given me, until the landlady was reimbursed. Matilda always said she had it in her power and would, certainly, one day or other, surprise me with a handsome present. I therefore paid the landlady five pounds, which discharged her account, and hastened home with the delightful idea, that all my sorrows would be atoned for, by an affectionate epistle from the charming Matilda-I broke the seal-opened the letter, and found it contained-My Sonnet.

LITERARY CRITICISM.

WHISTLE-BINKIE, a Collection of Comic aud Sentimental Songs, chiefly Original.-Glasgow, (Unpublished.)

WE have been favoured with a few of the proof sheets of this truly original work, which, in the words of its laughter-loving Editor, we are certain will be found adapted, either for " Bachelor's Hall or the Family Circle." It is, in fact, at once an offering to Momus and to Sappho, rousing the reader's risible faculties at one page, and melting his heart with love and tenderness at the next. This glorious Olla Podrida, which we hope soon will be found on every Drawing-room and Club Table in the Kingdom, the Editor has christened with the odd cognomen of WhistleBinkie, an appellation which, it appears, was wont to be applied to "men whose intellectual powers were either put forth in whistling, singing, or story-telling, or some other source of amusement that caught the fancy, and received the encouragement of their fellow-men, while engaged in their convivial orgies." The" "Scottish Tea Party," which leads the van of this curious and valuable collection of Comic and Sentimental Songs, we opine, will set many a table in a roar; and, if given with the characteristic spirit which it breathes, would make the individual who could do so, a Whistle-Binkie of the first order, and one, who, if he loved the pleasures of the table, might have his legs under foreign mahogany every day in the twelve-month. The author of this song will gain, we are certain, no little favour by this inimitable picture of a tea and scandal skittle; and he who can unite the imitative powers, which are requisite to give it due effect, will certainly be entitled to be called the Scottish Mathews. The exquisite contributions made by our friend Mr. Motherwell to this little Repository of Fun and Feeling do him the greatest honour. Some of them our readers have seen in our periodical; and, we are happy to find that they now appear in a more portable shape. Unlike the generality of Song Books, which are merely compilations, the pages of this pretty and chatty vocalist, are chiefly original, and original too in every acceptation of the We wish the work well, knowing it to be the production of fellows of "infinite wit, and most excellent fancy;" and we cannot offer a better cure for the head-ache or the heart-ache, or prescribe more effectual medicine for the "whipper-tooties or mulygrubs," than an afternoon's sip of our facetious Bibliopole's exhilarating "Whistle-Binkie."

word.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

REMONSTRANCE OF A MAN OF LETTERS ON THE DAY
BEING DISCONTINUED.
To the Editor of THE DAY.
Mr. Editor, I ne'er expected you'd B
So cruel as give up the D,
Although I am sure it was easy to C

That it ne'er its expenses would P.

In the morning at breakfast, or evening at T,
The readers oblig'd were to U,

Of politeness and breeding, to show them the K,
While amusement was still in your V-U.

In poetry, certainly you did X-L,

And your readers it will VX to C,

No new papers of Pirnie, all written H well,
And all read with such great XTC.

Yes, surely deep gratitude to you we 0,
As boundless and deep as the C,

And always we'll hail your magnanimous CO.
That has kept us so long on K, V.

No more Master ED, will your motto can C,
With propriety carpe D, M.

Nor can it be called now the every D, D,
For, alas! we shall never more C M.

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. WE beg leave to return the numerous Correspondents of "The Day" our best thanks for their many favours. We would willingly return the MSS. which we have not made use of, but our papers have accumulated so much on our hands that the task of doing so would really be Herculean.

To those who wish numbers to complete their sets, we beg leave to suggest an immediate application to our publishers. We have likewise to state, that any person who may be desirous to procure a complete copy of "The Day" should do so, without delay, as there are only TEN COPIES can be made up,

L