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notonrly surmised, " God will yet reveal this in his own proper time."

Thus abruptly and briefly closes this cautious relation. The event is also still fresh in the traditionary annals of the neighbourhood, which are far less scrupulous in explaining the closing circumstances of this melancholy occurrence. It is said that a man and his two sons, a small farmer near the spot, who had discovered the accident, hastened to the beach, where they found the master and another of the crew, who had reached the shore, but to expire; that they barbarously stripped the bodies, on the former of whom they found a purse of money, and buried them in the sea-sand! Such at least appears to have been the story very generally surmised; and, upon one occasion, it is added, this person having quarrelled with his neighbour in the change-house, the man laid his hand on his knee, and pointedly enquired, " Weel, Sanny, is thir the plush breeks thou took'st aff the dead man?"

THE ORIENTAL TATLER No. III.

BY JAMES NOBLE, A.M.,
From the Hindooatanee.

THE TENDER HEARTED MOTHER.

There is a story that a certain old woman had a daughter, by name Moohustee, extremely handsome and beautiful. By predestination, through the turning of fortune, she became sick, and quite powerless by the burning of the fever. The old woman kept going round about her, and, with prayer and supplication, was continually saying, "oh, life of your mother! would that my life might become an offering for thee I As far as regards myself, I would willingly make the sacrifice on thy account?" Perpetually at the time of dawn, making wailing and lamentation, she would say, "oh, God I do spare this fresh young creature, and take, by way of exchange for her, the life of this faded old woman, who is indeed satiated with the time she has lived." In short, with motherly affection, the old woman, night and day, kept on making prayer and supplication.

By chance, one of her cows had come from the pasture, and, having gone into the cooking place, being enticed by the smell of the soup, she thrust her head into the inside of the pot, and eat up whatever was there; but when she attempted to take her head out, she was not able to accomplish it. Being without resource, therefore, and, having got the pot in this very manner upon her head, she went forth from the cooking place, and was in the act of wandering about from this corner to that corner; when, at all at once, the old woman's eye-sight fell upon that dreadful appearance. She was excessively frightened, and, since people are in the habit of saying, that there is an Angel who comes and makes seizure of tbe soul, she imagined that this must indeed be he, and that, without doubt, he must have come for the purpose of making seizure of the soul of her daughter Moohustee. She screamed out, and with much entreaty and supplication, began to say—" oh, Angel of Death! I am not Moohustee; I am, in fact, & poor laborious old woman; if thou hast come for the purpose of making seizure of Moohustee's spirit, she is, without doubt, in the inside of the house, go there then, and do make seizure of her spirit, and let me alone!"

LITERARY CRITICISM.

Adventures or A Pair or Spectacles.—By Mrs. M'Gregor, Authoress of " Maternal Duty," &c, Glasgow, 1832.

The writer of this little volume is one of those intrepid ladies who come forward boldly, to vindicate the claims of their sex to the possession of intellect; and, without regarding the sneers of envy, dare to proclaim themselves bas blues to the admiring world. It is no small triumph for Glasgow, that, while a Hemans, a

Norton, and an L. E. L. are enjoying the rewards of their genius in the English metropolis, a soaring swan has taken her flight upon the banks of the Clyde, and has determined to hand down the name of our city to posterity, in connection with that of a M'Gregor. It is more in the department of an Edgeworth or an Opie, however, that the classical authoress of the " Adventures of a Pair of Spectacles" is entitled to rank, as she seems to indulge only in prose works of fiction; and we learn, by the distinction appended to her name, that she has already rendered herself conspicuous as a moral tale writer. The little volume which has been sent us for review, and the title of which is placed above, denotes an imagination of no ordinary power. Out of materials which, in themselves, possess nothing classical, Mrs. M'Gregor has contrived to spin a web of fancy, and has attempted to impart to the wanderings of a pair of spectacles something of the romantic interest which envelopes an adventurous hero. To heighten the poetical tendency of her work, she has even called in the aid of machinery, as her spectacles are attended with a familiar spirit, who has the privilege of diving, like Asmodeus, into the secrets of every house, and who possesses the attributes and titles of the gnomes and sylphs of Pope's celebrated poem. This glorious creation of the mind will be properly estimated, when we add farther, that the scene of its action is the police office, the principal character the sitting baillie, and the subject matter the punishment of petty cases of larceny!!!

ORIGINAL POETRY.

ON THE DEATH OF A YEAR

Stop by the grave of the departed year,

And pause a moment o'er the moments fled; Nor deem it theme of contemplation drear,

That bids thee stay, and ponder o'er the dead. The dead! what death is buried in that mound,

The charnel house of youth, and hope, and love; Where riot ne'er may revel, nor a sound

Break nn the ear of him who weeps above. And is it so! that thousands dwell below,

In damp and blackness, till the day of doom— Thousands who, but an hour or two ago,

Might write their end upon a distant tomb; Nor think that, worn out, they would slumber here—

Would leave the green earth and the gates of time— To woo the worm, when good was smiling near,

And blooming prospects bright'ning to their prime. O! it is well at times to turn aside,

To seat us on the tombstone of the past, And there to mark that wide uncertain tide,

Upon whose wave our barque of life is cast. Is thy skiff riding on a summer sea,

Its glancing streamers dancing in the sun;
And does it wanton on right merrily,

As it disaster and disease would shun.
Ah ! falsely fair, how bright soe'er the scene,

That ocean-calm is like to beauty's smile;
When she puts on a bland and winning mein,

And Syren-like, betrayeth all the while.
Believe not, thou, in this thy rosy hour,

The pleasing vision far from future ill;
For darksome clouds upon the sun shine lower,

And hidden dangers wait to work their will.
That fairy barque, which now appears so gay,

Where laughing pleasures lasting pleasures seem,
Is but the glimmer of a dying ray,

The very shadow of a passing dream.
It sinks, and thou art dead to mortal eye—

A clod of earth upon this earthly sphere—
Thy schemes and thee to quick oblivion hie,

And, shrouded, look not on the gazer here. But O, if Reason and Religion guide,

Let Tempest dash his fury on thy sail; 'Tis all the same whatever may betide,

Wrecked on the rock, or shattered in the gale.
These, like the Phoenix, shall nprear its form,

Renewed in beauty of unfading dye;
A thing to live where never breathes a storm,

A thing to skim the sunny seas on high.

GLASGOW GOSSIP.

It is currently rumoured, that many of our worthy citizens, who, some weeks ago, resorted to the celebrated German Anti-Cholera Plasters, are beginning to feel them rather uneasy. Several ineffectual attempts, it is said, also have been made to remove them, and it is hinted that the Doctors will obtain as much employment in taking the Burgundy Pitchers off, as the Apothecaries had in manufacturing them. A hot iron has been found to be the most serviceable instrument for the purpose of either smoothing these plasters down, or of removing them altogether. Several bulky men, now be-plastered, are in horror at the prospect of the operation, which they must inevitably undergo, e'er their kind friend will permit himself to be torn from their bosoms!

A wet Sunday is a day of misery to many a fair face, and a day of destruction to many a fine bonnet, pelisse and tippet. We are sure that it would be found a good remedy against these evils if the belles of Glasgow would introduce the fashion of wrapping themselves in cloaks of a more water-proof quality than the silks which they generally wear. Perhaps it would be an inducement for them to adopt some measure of this sort, if they were to reflect, that it is a severe tax upon a gentleman's gallantry, to give himself a walk home in the rain when he is obliged to part with his umbrella to some female friend. We may mention, that these remarks are made from commisseration of some of our bachelors' acquaintances whose politeness we lately saw put to the proof.

ANTI-CHOLERA KAIL.

The following is the Recipe of a Gentlemen who has been lately most usefully employing himself in the establishment of Soup Kitchens for the poor.

To make 130 Gallons of Broth take the following Articles :— 10 lb. Fine Orkney Salt Beef, 40 lb. Houghs of Fine Beef, 10 lb. Neck Pieces of Beef, 1 large Bullock's Head, 50 lb. Fine Barley, 24 lb. Peas, 6 lb. East India Rice, 2 stone grated Carrots, 1 stone Turnips, 18 Heads of Leeks, 3 lb. Onions, 12 Stocks of Savoy Greens, J Peck of Potatoes, ^ lb. Black Pepper, 6 lb. Salt.

The above materials if carefully laid in will cost £\, 8s. and, if judicously manufactured upon the most approved principles, set forth in Meg Dodd's Cockery, will produce upwards of 600 quarts of excellent Broth: then add to this the expense of the Establishment, namely,—Manager's salary, 2s. 6d. Head Cook, Is. Under Do. 9d. and for small charges, viz. :—coals, candles, saw-dust, and sundries, Is. The whole cost will be then .t'l, 13s. 3d. which is little more than per quart.

BATTLE OF THE BARBERS,

OR BARBERISM EIGHTY YEARS AGO.

For the following strange Advertisements, connected with Wigs, we are indebted to an Antiquarian friend. Duncan Nivien was the original of Smollett's Strap.

To the Intent that Merchants and Wigmakers may be compleatly served with every Article now made use of in Peruke-making; FERGUS KENNEDY, at the Hair Chamber, a little above the Cross, Glasgow, sells the following Goods, viz.— All Sorts of live human hair in the sweat.

The same ready curled by the best approved Hands from London, for Tye-wigs, Bobs, or Naturals, and warranted to be the first rate in Quality.

All Sorts of fine Horse-hair, Goat and Moy-hairs, for Tyes or Crowns, Horse-hair crap'd, or Roundabouts.

Great Choice of Peruke-ribbands and Cauls, sewing and weaving Silk, mounting Thread, Frame-Sticks, and Screws.

Fine polished Steel and Iron Cards, with Brushes and drawing-cards, pinching Tongs and Toupee Irons, Wig-Springs, hollow Blocks made by the best Hands in London, Block Pins, Curling Pipes, Vizes, Scissors, Razors, Hones and Strapes, Powder Machines, Combs, Peruke Bogs and Roses.

Note, Those who correspond with him may depend on having all these Articles of the best Kind, and the most of them far below the London Prices: or any thing else he can be serviceable in,

that may be here omitted, by sending or writing as above directed, he being determined that none shall underset him, who expose Goods to sale of the same Goodness and'Quality, either for home or foreign Markets.

That JOHN M'KECHNIE, in the third story of the Old Coffee House, keeps a constant supply of all kinds of WIGS; of the neatest FASHION, and best MATERIALS and WORKMANSHIP; where all gentlemen, who want a parcel for exportation, and are pleased to apply to him, may be ready furnished with an ASSORTMENT, as also for private use, at the lowest rates: where likewise may be had, on reasonable terms, the different kinds of HAIRS, used for WIGS, either raw or curled.

DUNCAN NIVIEN, Wig-Maker in Glasgow, Takes this opportunity to return his hearty thanks to those who have been pleased to favour him with their custom and orders, which he begs leave to ask a continuance of. And, as he hopes his work has given satisfaction both at home and abroad, he is resolved to do all in his power to deserve further encouragement.— For this purpose, he has procured the best materials, and most skilful hands, whereby he is enabled to furnish a large quantity of good and fashionable Wigs in a few days warning, and at the lowest prices.—He also continues to sell all kinds of Hair and furniture for wigs.

He would willingly overlook a late advertisement from John M'Kechnie offering to serve gentlemen with Wigs in the newest fashion, but cannot help observing, That there is at least a greater probability of being better served by such as have been bred to, and followed the,employment from their infancy with close application, than by one, who, while he pursued the business, was very far from excelling, and, now after an intermission of ten years, 'tis not to be easily credited that he has made any great improvement, and consequently he can be but an indifferent judge of the newest fashions or neatest work.

ODDS AND ENDS.

A Costly Suit For A King—William the Second was taxed no less for being prodigal, than for being incontinent; and yet for his prodigality there is not so much as one instance recorded, unless we take this for an instance, that when his Chamberlain brought him a pair of hose, which because they were new, he asked what they cost? And being told they cost three shillings, in a great chafe, he threw them away; asking him, if he thought a pair of hose of three shillings to be fit for a king to wear? Get thee gone, saith he, and let me have a pair of a mark. His Chamberlain went, and bringing him another pair scarce so good as the former, and telling him they cost a mark; ay marry, saith the king, these are something like, and was better satisfied with hearing what they cost, than with seeing what they were wot th; and yet was this no imputation to his wisdom, for, to say the truth, it is no defect of wisdom in a king, to be ignorant what hisclothesare worth. —Baker.

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

"L. S. S. G.'s" Stanzas have been received, and have as been put into the hands of our Poetical Critic

"C. A. M." is rather deficient in rythm for our columns. "W. M.'s Antiquities of Largs" are under consideration.

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

HIGH WATER AT THE BROOMIELAW.

Morning. Evening.
h. m. h. m.

Tuesday, — 4 5 4 24

Wednesday, „„4 44 j 2

Thursday, „....-,5 30 5 55

Published, every Morning, Sunday excepted, by John Finlay, at No. 9, Miller Street; and Sold by John Wylie, 97, Argyle Street; David Robertson, and W. R. M'phun, Glasgow; Thomas Stevenson, and the other Booksellers, Edinburgh: DaVid Dick, Bookseller, Paisley: A. Lain, Greenock; and J. Glass, Bookseller, Rotlisay.

PRINTED BY JOHN GRAHAM, MELVILLE PLACE.

THE DAY,

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

CARFE D:

GLASGOW, WEDNESDAY, MARCH 7, 1832.

A MATRIMONIAL DOCTOR.

The following epistle will speak for itself. Let us merely say, that we gravely suspect that the peculiar species of philanthropy of its author might be traced to some concealed unphilanthropic conduct practised on him in his early days. But, let him speak for himself:—

To the Editor of The Dat.

My Dear Sir,—I am a bachelor of forty. It is a thousand chances to one that I remain so while I sojourn on this side of the grave, and, I presume, there is no marrying on the other side. I am not, however, and never was, averse to being married. The time has been, when I was admired by more than one handsome woman. This is no egotism, for every man, at one time or other, has been the object of some female's attachment. I, too, have loved, at least more ardently, than many who daily push their necks into the matrimonial noose, but the blasting of all my matrimonial prospects may be attributed to procrastination.

From twenty-five to thirty, it was my daily resolution to set myself down with an elegant little wife in some very comfortable small-sized house. Ever and anon I meant to break off from my jovial companions. I was to quit all my evening clubs, all the theatres— and never more visit any public place of amusement. I was to be quite a new man from top to toe, and, to have no other object in view, but getting "locked in the balmy arras of marriage." Time, however, passed on—nothing was done—no change made, and I proceeded no farther in my endeavour to get a wife, than holding a little innocent flirtation with this and that pretty girl, who chanced to cross my path.

Here, then, do I at length find myself. I am now 40 years of age with a constitution of seventy, and am still so far from the harbour for which I was originally destined, as to put it beyond every fair calculation that I shall ever reach it. Perhaps it is better as it is. I have had my share of all the corporeal comforts of good eating and drinking, and of laughter and of frolic. These I take it, whatever philosophers and divines may say, form the principal item in what is termed happiness, and probably I would not have enjoyed so much, had some ugly woman been able to call me husband, and some dozen of urchins to call me papa. Marriage is something more than "chargeable." It is a lottery. An ill-tempered wife and ill-behaved children are the blanks.

"What a delicious breath marriage sends forth,
The violet beds not sweeter;

But, had the poet lived as long in the world as I have done, he would have coupled his exclamation with certain provisos. There are many things to keep in view: age, temper, principles, manners and appearance. When the parties differ from one another in these, there is nothing but certain misery. I have always had this view of the matter; and I always have been, and will continue to be, a complete Marplot in preventing marriages amongst parties, betwixt whom there are obvious disparities. If you can listen, my dear Day, for five minutes, I will tell you one or two of my adventures in this way.

The first matrimonial match I prevented was Tom Martin's. Tom and I were fellow-students. He was a rare, fine, handsome young fellow, with a free and generous soul. He was a good scholar; but, in all the lighter departments of a young man's education, he surpassed his companions. In music, poetry and painting, and every thing, except " woman, lovely woman," his taste was exquisite; but, as to her, he was a perfect fool; for his warm soul admired the whole sex so ardently, that he could make no distinction betwixt a " barn-door" beauty, and one of the first water. Tom, however, was ordered to a distant part of England, previous to his leaving for India; and, the night before his departure, he and I had a social and a happy meeting. He confessed he would leave behind him a beautiful young lady, to whom, perhaps, he would occasionally request me to deliver a sweet epistle.

Away he went, over land and sea, to the end of his journey; and soon came a letter to his adorable fair one. I hastened to deliver it; but, good heavens! what were my sensations when I beheld the intended wife of my elegant and accomplished friend! Had he searched the globe round and round, he could not have found a more unseemly damsel. She was dumpy in appearance, and I have ever " hated a dumpy woman." She had resorted to all the means that extravagance could afford to hide the ravaging marks of time, which had played havoc with her very slender charms. She was rouged all over—false hair, false teeth and false colour. She attempted to look coy and winning; and sighed, and sighed again, as she, with head aside and clasped hands, inquired for her dear Martin and his safe arrival. Her right shoulder was about half a yard broader and higher than her left; and she carried this additional burden so much behind, as to make her walk sideways, with one leg almost always foremost. How strange it must have been to have seen Martin caressing, toying and walking with such a woman; for he was tall, handsome, erect and firm as a pillar.

I was not two minutes in her company, until I wished to be off. When, for an instant, I contrasted her with Martin, I felt unhappy and sick at heart. I left the house without uttering one word, not so much as "good morning, MadamJ' and, when I had so far recovered to be able to use pen, ink and paper, I forthwith indited an epistle to my friend. I cannot tell what I said, but it had the desired effect of shewing him his folly. It is now upwards of twenty years since I last saw him. He was then one of the handsomest men in England, and he has married a French lady, of great beauty and of great fortune.

My next exploit was this :—A gentleman, a worthy, upright man as ever lived, at whose house I visited some dozen of years ago, had two lovely daughters. The elder was nineteen ; for beauty, modesty sweetness of temper and elegance of deportment, no one all around the country where she lived ever surpassed her. Her mother had died while she was still an infant, and now, since she had grown up to womanhood, the charge of her father's mansion devolved on her. If she was to be admired for her personal appearance, she was to be admired more for the anxiety she evinced to discharge, with accuracy, all her duties as her father's housekeeper. Every time I beheld her I esteemed her the more highly ; for,

"She had a shape, and, to that shape, a mind Made up of all parts, either great or noble; So winning a behaviour, not to be Resisted, Madam." At length it was whispered she was about to be married; and, to my astonishment, I learned it was to a hale old man of fifty. This " old fool" I had frequently seen. In appearance he was unprepossessing, and in manners uncouth. He Was thick-set and broad, vulgarly made, and "fit for carrying burdens." He walked with a swagger at the rate of five miles an hour. Dressed uniformly in sables, with brown wig, combed plainly over his narrow forehead. You would have taken him for a workman in his holiday attire. Still, he was wealthy, and this was a great charm. He had accumulated, as common report said, immense stores of riches; and it was said he meant to fix a jointure of no less than a thousand a-year on his beauteous intended. Yet, with all his wealth, he was an old, rude-minded man, who had already been four times married. How so young a lady, one so sweet, so gentle, so well-informed, so every thing, could think of such a man, for her husband, appeared to me, in those days, one of the most extraordinary things that could possibly happen.

I cannot tell how her father felt on the subject: my observation never having enabled me to discover any thing on his part, from which I could draw any conclusion. But her sister who was some months younger, and who was gifted with a great share of talent, wit and frolic, entertained quite a proper notion of the ridiculous nature of the proposed engagement. With her assistance, I commenced the attack on the young lady herself. She bore all we said with exceeding good nature. Night after night we continued to harp again and again on this never-failing topic. We drew the most fanciful pictures of her lovely intended, and we delineated the pleasures of her widowhood, when, in the round of a few short years, her sweet young husband would of necessity, and in the regular course of nature, be carried to " the tomb of all the Capulets."

This raillery and teazing had the desired effect. It sickened her of her would-be lover, and she rejected the hand of the " old fool." No one can conceive the pleasure this afforded me. Soon afterwards, I left the scene of these happy and innocent days for a distant clime, and I know not who was the happy man that

got the hand of the lovely E . One so beautiful

and so good, would not be permitted to remain long unmarried, and whoever he may be,

"May their days

Like a long stormless summer glide away,
And peace and trust be with them.

My next adventure afforded me equal pleasure. Isabella, the daughter of an early friend, was obliged from ber father's misfortunes, to become governess in

the family of Lord G , a Judge in the Supreme

Court of Scotland, where M'Leod, a young clergyman,

officiated as tutor. The parish church of S about

this time became vacant, when his Lordship as patron gave the living to this young man. Soon afterwards, a friendship arose betwixt him and Isabella, which ended in marriage.

No one ever ascended a pulpit better fitted for his holy avocation than M'Leod; for he was mild, and gentle, purely pious and disinterested. Fortune for a time seemed to smile on him; for not long after his installation, he succeeded to a large fortune, left him by an uncle, many years an extensive proprietor in the West Indies. Riches however were not necessary to the happiness of him and his amiable partner; for they had "that within which passeth show." In his manse, the same air of simplicity and repose reigned as formerly, and his large fortune was only useful as it enabled him the more effectually to cheer the humble dwellings of the poor, and to alleviate their miseries and their wants.

It was seldom M'Leod went from home, but he visited Edinburgh on one occasion, during the sitting

of the General Assembly. The parish of S was

in one of the most remote North West Islands of Scotland, and in reaching it, he had to cross a ferry of some fifty or sixty miles. The sea was calm as he entered the passage boat, but, e'er long, one of those sudden and dreadful storms so usual in the Highlands arose, which the boat was unable to withstand, and she sank with every one on board to rise no more.

The whole island deplored the loss of M'Leod. Poor Isabella, who experienced the deepest anguish, had the sympathy of all who heard the distressing event. She had no relations in this country; for her brothers were far distant, and her father and mother were numbered with the dead. She had no family, and she had been left sole mistress of the large fortune to which her husband had so recently succeeded.

Soon after this occurrence, she took up her residence in Edinburgh. She met with great kindness and attention from her old and venerable friend Lord

G and his family. By them she was introduced

to the first circles, and, as her fortune was now known to be large, she soon attracted the notice of a numerous pack of fortune hunters. Of these, the eldest son of his Lordship was, perhaps, the keenest in the chase. He met Isabella frequently at his father's house, where he uniformly paid her the most devoted attentions. His manners were easy and elegant, with all the soft blandishments of one who had seen the best society. He had travelled and had been in the array, and, if his appearance was not prepossessing, it was not repulsive, while his conversation was lively and engaging. His habits however were, as I thought, rakish, and his principles loose and feeble. Somehow or other, I could not, with every disposition to think favourably of him, believe that Isabella would be happy with him, and as I, from my earliest days, had loved her as a brother, I determined to have some conversation with her on the subject.

I soon took a fitting opportunity for this, when I

found that G had made an impression on her

mind. Here and there however, I threw a little light upon some points of his character, and I continued, with unremitting industry, to keep the portrait, as I had drawn it, constantly before her eyes. At length she was forced to admit, that it did not seem so very pleasant as formerly. Constantly on the watch, I took care, by the regularity of my visits, to interrupt their tete-a-tetes, and, at last, my triumph was obtained. She declined the attentions of T , and, shortly afterwards, the result of some gambling speculations forced him to leave the country, ruined and disgraced.

But I am afraid, my dear Day, I have more than exhausted your patience. If, in what I have stated, (and they are only a few of my achievements in that way) I have been too officious, and too busy in other people's matters, set it down to naught, I beseech you, but my zeal to do it service to those whom I loved. I have (do not think me vain) proved right in all my conjectures, and, although I say it myself, I do not know any person better qualified to giveadvico to those who are about to pass from a single to a double state. I have some thought, indeed, of publicly announcing my intention to serve the world in this way, and as we have "Doctors of Law" and "Doctors of Medicine," I see no reason why there should not be " Doctors of Matrimony" too.—I remain, my dear Day, yours, ever truly,

Running For The Plate A bell was, formerly, the prize

run for; hence the expression of "bearing away the bell." Subsequently a silver cup was given to the winner, which was the origin of the word "Plate;" a word still used even when money only is given.

London Drinking It is calculated, that not less than 65,000

pipes of wine, 10,000 gallons of spirits, and 2,000,000 barrels of ale and porter, are annually drank in the metropolis. (What a rich field for our friends the Temperance Society exerting their prowess !]

THE PICTURE COLLECTOR DUPED.

Di:m Nfan-, well known as a collector and dealer with every advantage of consulting and comparing, was himself the dupe of an artist's skill in imitating the works of a celebrated painter. The discovery was made by the artist himself in rather a curious way. M. De Loutherbourg took an opportunity of introducing Ibbetson (a very clever artist,) to the notice of Mr. Desenfans: on this introduction, and, while at breakfast, the collector pointed out to the attention of the young artist several esteemed and valuable pictures, among them a highly finished Teniers; when, to the utter confusion of the possessor, Ibbetson declared himself to be the painter of the much-esteemed Teniers.

It was an awkward business, and it may be supposed the parties did no sit very easy on their chairs after this confession, which policy in many would have suppressed; but it belonged to more forbearance than Ibbetson possessed, to withstand the praises which had been lavished on the performance, or to forego the opportunity of proclaiming his own talents, and, as he might imagine, of removing the prejudice which has ever prevailed in favour of foreign names and old masters. But prejudice will prevail; and the manufacture, whether of pictures or of china, will continue to be preferred, if foreign, to the same articles if the produce of our own country.

LONDON FASHIONS FOR MARCH.

Hats And Bonnets.—Velvet still continues to be the favourite material for bonnets, they are still made close, but the murmetle shape is more in favour than the bibi. They are trimmed as last month, with the exception of the plumets Passes, which are no longer fashionable. A few spring hats have just been introduced by Mrs. Bell, they are of moire, and of light colours; low crowns and small brims, between the capote and chapeau shape. They are trimmed in a very simple stile with broad satin striped gauze ribbon; these hats are remarkable for that elegant simplicity which Herbault so well knows how to give to the plainest head dress. Pale rose colour, celestial blue, and blue capes are the favourite colours for hats.

Make And Material Of Out-door Costume.—A few pelisses have just appeared both in velvet and satin, ornamented down the fronts of the skirts in a showy and complicated style, but they are not so much in favour as those without any other trimming than the nwuds which fasten them. The pelerines are always very large. The gigot shape is most fashionable for sleeves, which have lost nothing of their extravagant width at the top. We see also some high dresses with velvet pelerines; they are of grot de Naples, or tuisu de Pondicherry, and are of dark colours, particularly feuille d'acantlie and avanturine.

Make And Materials or Full Dress.—Velvet, moire, crape, and various kinds of gauze are all in favour. We shall select a few ensembles of dresses in which ladies of high rank and distinguished taste have lately appeared. A ruby velvet dress, the corsage was plain before, cut low and square. Ceinlure a la Grecque, that is, forming a point in front. The armholes and back of the bust were trimmed with broad blond lace, which stood up round the back of the bust iu the fan style. Velvet sleeves of the double bent, form the upper part excessively large, the under moderately so. The sleeves were enveloped in superb blond lace, retained by diamond bracelets in the following manner: one bracelet was placed between the two beauffants, into which the sleeve was divided, the other above the elbow; the lower part of the blond lace sleeve was left loose, and extremely wide, it fell over the arm almost to the hand. The trimming of the skirt was an embroidery in two shades of green silk, of oak leaves, intermixed with acorns worked in gold thread, and highly raised. The head dress was a velvet toque to correspond, the front a la Henry IV. was looped with diamonds, and ornamented with a bouquet of five ostrich feathers, disposed in different directions. This dress was worn by the beautiful Duchess of K The Marchioness of

L— appeared at the same party in a white crape dress, with a Grecian corsage cut very low, and ornamented round the bust and shoulders with blond lace disposed a la Medicis, the folds of the drappery in front were edged alternately with rose colour and

silver. Beret sleeves ornamented with nauds de pages of rosecoloured gauze ribbon edged with silver. The front of the dress was trimmed with three wreaths of red larkspur, with silver foilage; each wreath was of a dilferent size, they were arranged en triangle, one above the knee, the two others lower. The coiffure was a white and silver turban d la Moabite. Features less lovely and regular than Lady L 's would not have appeared to advantage in this head-dress.

Ball Dress.—Crape and gauze seem equally in favour for ball dresses; those composed of crape are very frequently tr irnmed with gauze ribbons, edged with gold and silver. We have seen several ornamented with three ribbons to correspond in colour, and spotted either with gold or silver, attached on one side of the ceinture, and turning in a spiral direction, one within the other. This kind of rouleau traverses the dress diagonally, and makes the top of the hem, where the ribbons separate, and form three different rouleaus that encircle the bottom of the dress, and terminate as high as the knee, under a knot of ribbon, opposite to where they were divided.

Other dresses are trimmed with three ribbons placed at the ceinture, which descend in the form of a tablier on the front of the dress, each ribbon terminates by a knot, the ends of which float over the hem; the sleeves are trimmed with a knot, composed of five ends and two bars, so voluminous that it nearly covers the sleeves.

A singularly beautiful ball-dress is composed of white crape. A Grecian corsage, with double beret sleeves, ornamented with a Provins rose, with very little foilage, placed before in the division of the sleeve. The only ornament of the skirt was a bouquet arranged in the form of a palm, and composed of roses of various colours, intermixed with wild flowers; it was placed a little below the knee, and attached by a nceud of satin-striped-gauzed ribbon.

Another very pretty ball-dress is of cherry-coloured crape, ornamented with five knots of ribbon to correspond, edged with gold; they are placed diagonally on the front of the dress, and disposed from above the knee to the bottom of the dress at equal distances; each nccud was attached in the centre by a cameo. The sleeves were drawn up on the shoulder by a ribbon, which formed a beret upon the shoulder, also ornamented with a <

ORIGINAL POETRY.

A PARAPHRASE ON THE FOLLOWING COUPLET.

Sex horas quivis poscit, semptemque scholaris; .
Octo viator habet; nebulo quisque novem.

Six hours for sleep, the human frame requires;

Hard students may, to seven incline;
To eight, the men whom toil or travelling tires;

But lazy knaves will all have nine.

MISCELLANEA.

Presence or Mind Under Suffering A Spanish gentleman,

who had but one eye, used frequently to attend a tennis-court, whenever any match of skill was played there. One day the ball was so violently struck against the other eye, as in a moment to deprive him of the use of it. He bowed to the company, and, without apparent emotion, left the court, saying, 11 Buenos noches! (Good night, gentlemen.")

The celebrated German critic, Augustus William von Schlegel, whose Lectures on Shakespeare have eminently contributed to render the works of the great English dramatist understood and admired in Germany, is now in London, and was presented to His Majesty at the Levee.

Origin Of Cards.—About the year 1390, cards were invented to divert Charles IV. King of France, who had fallen into melancholy. The inventor proposed by the figures of the four suits or colours, to represent the four states or classes of men in the kingdom.—Anon.

When a mere child he strayed bird's nesting from his mother's house, in company with a cow-boy: the dinner hour elapsed, he was absent and could not be found, and the alarm of the family became very great, for they apprehended he might have been carried off by the gypsies. At length, after search had been made for him in various directions, he was found. "I wonder," said bis mother, "that hunger and fear did not drive you home." "Fear I" replied the future hero, " I never saw fear, what is it?" —Southey's Life of Nelson.

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