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ORIGINAL POETRY.

THE SOLEMN SONG OF A RIGHTEOUS HEARTE. (After the Fashion of an Early English Poet. J

There is a mightie Noyse of belle,

Rushing from the turret free;
A solemne tale of Truthe it tells,

O'er Land and Sea,
How heartes be breaking fast, and then

Wax whole againe.

Poor fluttering Soule! why tremble see,

To quitt Lyfe's fast decaying Tree;
Time wormes its core, and it must bows ,

To Fate's decree;
Its last branch breaker, but Thou must soar*,

For Evermore. .

Noe more thy wing shall touch grosse Earth,

Far under shall its shadows flee,
And al its soundea of Woe or Mirth

Growe strange to thee.
Thou wilt not mingle in its noyse,

Nor court its Joies.

Food One! why cling thus unto Life,

As if its gaudes were meet for thee;
Surely its Follie, Bloodshed, Stryfe,

Liked never thee?
This World growes madder each newe dale,

Vice hearts such sway.

Couldst thou in Slavish artes excel,

And crawls upon the supple knee—
Couldst tbou each Woe-worn wretch repel—

This Worldes for Thee.
Not in this Spheare Man ownes a Brother:

Then seek another.

Couldst thou bewraie tby Birthright sot

As flatter Guilt's prosperitye,
And laude Oppressiounes iron blowe,—

This Worldes for Thee.
Sithence to this thou wilt not bend,

Life's at an end.

Couldst thou spurn Vrrteue meanly clad,

As it were spotted Infamy,
And prayse as Good what is mos

This Worldes for Thee.
Sithence thou can't* not will it *oe

Poor Flutterer goe!

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Couldst thou smyle swete when Wrong hath
The withers of the poore but prowde,

And by the rootes pluck out the tongue,
That dare be lowde

In Righteous cause, whate'er may be—
This World's for Thee.

This canst thou not! Then fluttering thing
Unstained in thy purity,

Sweep towards heaven with tireless wing-
Meet Home for thee.

Feare not—the crashing of Lyfea Tree
Gods Love guides Thee.

And thus it is : these solemn bells,

Swinging in the turret free,
And tolling forth their sad farewells,

Oer Land and Sea,
Tell how Heartes breake, full net, and then

Growe whole again.

LITERARY NOTICE.

Nights or The Rodkd Table. By the author of " Diversions of Hollycot," "Clan-Albln," "Elizabeth De Bruce," &c he. Edinburgh, Oliver & Boyd. 1832.

PaiNTEa's Devils are sad fellows for putting Authors to the blush, for they will make mistakes in spite of every precaution to the contrary. We have but too frequently experienced their unkind ness towards ourselves, and, more than once, when cheated out of our propriety, by their indomitable stupidity, have uncharitably wished them with their horned and baboon-tailed parent !* Think not, however, fastidious reader! that the imp of the Long Primer has, on this occasion, cheated the title of the volume before us of an initial letter, that he has, out of ignorance or design, robbed Night of its K, when found in such company. There Is here, in fact, no mistake, for the volume has, except in sound, nothing at all to do with the brave King Arthur and his celebrated Knights of the Round Table, that it breathes not a single allusion to his minstrel-sung Ginevra—to his fierce conflicts with the Saxons, Scots nud Picts, or to the mortal wound which he received from his revolted nephew Mordred. The plain matter of fact is, that the authoress appears to have been in want of a sounding title for her book, and she has fixed upon the conceit of the " Nights of the Round Table," as the masque under which she gives the public a string of stories from her aunt Jane and her friends. The work is a species of Juvenile Decameron, where a set of amusing story tellers are seated round a table who attempt to b .-guile a winter's night with tales, which convey not only historical facts, but useful moral lessons, in the same manner that the more lively groupe of Italian dames and their lovers were supposed by Boccaccio to have occupied themselves in a summer's bower to forget the plague that raged in Florence. As the book only reached us yesterday, we have only dipped into one or two of the stories, but they appear to be written in a very easy and agreeable style, and have the peculiar advantage of being, in a great measure, founded on fact. The authoress is well known to the novel reader as the writer of Clan Albin and Elizabeth Da Bruce, and to many of the rising generation from the amusement and instruction which they obtained from the perusal of the "Diversions of Hollycot." The tales and conversations in this volume are intended, in fact, as a development of the latter, and, as such, are fitted for readers of a more advanced age.

* (AsideJ—More than one half of the errors alluded to is solely owing to the unreadable manuscript furnished by our employers.— Printer'i Devil.

FOREIGN LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

The Russian chamberlain, Dimidov, in order to promote the interest of literature and science in his native country, has resolved to set aside every year till his death, the sum of 2,000 rubles, to be awarded in sums of 5,000 rubles to such writers as shall have enriched Russian literature, during the preceding year, with some work of distinguished merit. M. Demidov has also, by a subsequent act, conferred the 20,000 rubles for the same purpose, for 25 years after his death, and added a further sum of 5,000 rubles for the printing of the MSS. that may be judged worthy of the prize. The Academy of Science will decide on the merits of the proposed works.

"A Dictionary of Marine Terms" has lately appeared at Madrid, with translations in French, English and Italian, of all the Spanish

LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

Ms. Andrew Hendehsok, our resident Artist, has at present a volume of Scottish Proverbs in the press. From Mr. H.'s intimate knowledge of the manners and customs of the peasantry of Scotland, we look forward to its publication with a considerable degree of interest. The classification of the work we have heard spoken of in terms of high commendation nous verrons.

TO OUR READERS.

We have to-day completed our first week's labours, and we now beg leave to return our best thanks to the public, here and elsewhere, for the patronage which has been bestowed on our undertaking. From a variety of causes, incident to the establishment of every Journal, many little mistakes have occurred, which, it is hoped, will be avoided in future. During the week several important hints have been given us by valuable correspondents, of which we mean to avail ourselves, and we doubt not that each succeeding number will still more strikingly prove the claim w« have to public favour and support. We have also received several highly complimentary epistles upon what we have already done; but these, instead of making us vain, or satisfied with our labours, will, we trust, rather tend to make us redouble our exertions.

In order to Insure this Publication being on the Breakfast Table every morning, it is requested that intending Subscribers will leave their names and addresses at the Publisher's

SIGNAL PRESERVATION OF LIFE.

The following account of the Signal Preservation of an Officer's Lady, at the Mutiny at Vellore, has just appeared in a little volume entitled "Excitement," and as it is of rather a sober hue, we present it to our readers as a Saturday's contribution :—

With my beloved husband I spent nearly four years of uninterrupted felicity. Our dear Charles grew up a lovely scion from the parent stem, and his infantile prattle often drew from bis fa* ther expressions of tenderness, which suffused my eyes with tears of joy. Our affections flowed and mingled towards this object of mutual endearment. I was too happy.

The last evening we ever spent together was one of peculiar satisfaction. We conversed of England—happy England; and by a natural transition, our minds were carried upwards to that better country—the Christian's heaven—the Christian's home. The Bible lay before us, and I read the last chapter of the Revelations. We then knelt down, and my husband offered up a prayer, remarkable for its calm solemnity and fervour. With pathetic earnestness he prayed for me and our little boy. It was love, Conjugal paternal love, heightened and hallowed by a sublime and exquisite devotion. As we rose, I pressed his hand to my heart with a rapture which I never felt before; nor shall I feel it again till I behold his welcoming smile on the shores of immortality.

About nine o'clock we retired. At two in the morning we were awakened at the same instant by a loud tiring. The Colonel hastened to the window, which was open, and demanded from the crowds of sepoys that were assembling at the main-guard, the cause of the disturbance. No answer was returned; but the rapid continuance of the firing left us in no doubt of the perils which threatened us. I had not power to articulate, and I dreaded, even by a look, to agitate my husband, whose countenance I perceived was already pale and troubled. With his characteristic coolness and self-command, he wrote it note to be forwarded to Arcott for reinforcements, and gently urging me to seek safety in my chamber, he rushed into the thickest of the danger; hoping by his presence to reclaim the less desperate to a sense of duty, and either to vanquish the others, or to bring them to terms.

Instinctive terror induced me to close the doors of my apartment, and to seek for my child and attendants the best retreat in my power. I endured two hours of excessive alarm. The thunder of the cannon, and the loud volleys of the musketry, which, with slight intervals, continued till four o'clock, shook my nerves, and I almost died with apprehension. Once, when the firing ceased at the main-guard, I imagined that I heard the footstep of my husband. I ran to the door, but before I could open it, he was gone. New dangers awaited him at the European barracks, where the conflict was renewed, and where the disaffected were making their last desperate struggle. It was too successful, and in a few moments a scene of dreadful carnage and plunder ensued. I had ventured twice from my apartments down to the hall, to ascertain, if possible, the fate of my husband. The last time, as I stood in a situation open to the veranda, a figure approached me. A flash from a distant musket discovered to me a military uniform. I trembled for my safety, and that of my dear infant. I had courage, however, to ask, who was there? The reply was— "I am an officer of the main.guaid—my brave comrades have all been murdered—the rebels are advancing—fly for your life." I rushed back to my chamber, but, before I could reach it, this unfortunate man experienced the doom of his companions. He was cruelly butchered in Colonel Wilmington's dressing-room. Every moment increased the horror of my situation. Day-light reveal- ed a shocking spectacle. The parade was covered with soldiers of the sixty-ninth regiment lying dead. Sepoys were running in all directions, shouting and yelling with the ferocity of demons.— Some with savage brutality were insulting the remains of their hapless victims, while others, intoxicated with success, were ransacking the houses, intent only on rapine and murder. At this moment I gave up all for lost. My husband's miniature was in the drawer of my dressing-table. I took it with convulsive agony and placed it in my bosom. It was an involuntary act of tenderness. I was resolved to retain his dear image even in death.— Scarcely had I indulged this pardonable weakness, ere a loud noise in the hall adjoining my bed-room announced the crisis of our fate. I moved softly, and looking through the door, discovered two sepoys beating our furniture to pieces. At the suggestion of my ayah, we concealed ourselves beneath the bed. Scarcely had we taken this precaution ere the door was forced, and shots poured into the apartment. I have now in my possession a ball which fell close to me, and had nearly proved fatal to my child.

With the energy of despair, I resolved to make a desperate effort to save our lives. With my Charles in my arms, and the women following me, I presented myself from the back staircase to the sepoys who were on guard. It was a mother's appeal— the appeal of holy nature in its last extremity, and, though made to the hearts of barbarians, it was not in vain. We were permitted to seek refuge in the stables. Here we had not been five minutes, when we were visited by the sepoy, whom I instantly recognized as a man to whom the Colonel had shown many little acts of kindness, and who had manifested an unusual attachment to our darling son. He looked fearfully round, as if apprehensive of being discovered, and whispered to me in hurried accents to escape, pointing at the same time to a fowl-house, which had B

bamboo front, as the only asylum. I objected that there we should be exposed to the view of our enemies. However, I deemed it prudent to follow his suggestion, and he kindly covered our hiding-place with a large mat, and furnished my little Charles with half a loaf of bread, which he greatly needed. Here, famished with thirst, and full of the most dreadful apprehensions, I continued another three hours, every successive moment of which augmented my terror, lest the screaming of my poor boy, who was alarmed at the firing, should reach the ears of our blood-thirsty foes, and allure them to the spot. Through an aperture, I distinctly saw my house plundered, and frequently was chilled with horror when I heard the enraged murderers repeat my name, and threaten me with death!

But amidst all these horrors, fears for myself were absorbed in anxiety for my husband. I dreaded to hear of his assassination, and I really believe I should have braved death, and searched for him on the parade, had not the situation of my babe withheld me from the rash attempt.

Exhausted by fatigue and terror, nature was just sinking under the accumulating pressure, when the tremendous roar of cannon at the gates roused my attention, and inspired me with hope. What I conjectured proved to be true: the 19th dragoons, from Arcott, had arrived. My heart beat violently, and I almost fainted with the sudden emotion, as I heard the trampling of their horses on the draw-bridge, and the welcoming huzzas of the garrison. Still I was afraid to leave my place of concealment. My name was repeatedly called, but I knew not whether it was by a friendly or a hostile voice; till, perceiving several British officers, I imagined that one of them was my husband, and instantly sprang forward to meet him. But, alas! it was a sad illusion. In an agony of suspense, I looked round on all the group, but be was not there. They first told me he was wounded. In mercy, they would have deceived me, but my prophetic soul too surely foreboded the heart-appalling fact—I was a widow, and my babe an orphan! so soon passed away my dream of happiness!

Inconsolable at my loss, I could not pray. Even the resource* of piety seemed to fail. I felt as if utterly forsaken. I was ft stranger in a strange land. My hopes were crushed, and my poor weak heart was crushed with them. Grief is scarcely grief that is relieved by the luxury of tears. I could not weep. I have no doubt there was impiety in this sorrow. It was a virtual arraignment of the wisdom and mercy of Providence. I was charging God foolishly; and in this consisted its bitterness. But God was merciful. The chastising rod dropt from his hands, and he said unto me, " Live!" In the extremity of my auguish bis compassion visited me.

All the relief which sympathy and kindness could afford, I experienced from my friends. My sex—my loss—the delicacy of my situation —conspired to insure to me the tenderest offices of humanity, even from strangers. But it was the sacred page, the promise of strength, according to my day—the light of salvation irradiating the gloomy path of adversity—it was this which supported and cheered my heart. Now, indeed, I learned to appreciate the value of Christian principles, and the incomparable excellence of the Holy Scriptures. Under this, the heaviest calamity of my life, I experienced their mighty efficacy. When at ease, and enjoying all the comforts of life, I could only speculate on this efficacy, or believe it on the testimony of others. Now, I knew it for myself—speculation became confirmed persuasion, and faith arose to assured certainty. Thus, the advantages of my affliction greatly counterbalanced its suffering, and I was taught, in the sad school of experience, the uses of adversity.

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U. * .J l_A Penn

THE DAY,

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

VELUTIIN SPECDLO.

GLASGOW, MONDAY, JANUARY 9, 1832.

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None of the proposed Judicial Reforms or Improvements will be more advantageous to this part of the island than the contemplated abolition of the Exchequer Court. The mere saving of some fifteen or sixteen thousand yearly will not be the principal advantage, but the decision of Excise questions will then pass to another tribunal, better fitted for the administration of even-handed justice betwixt the Crown and the subject. We must not be understood as offering any disrespect to the present Judges in Exchequer, for they are all men of great legal knowledge, and of undoubted honour; but the forms and mode of procedure of the present establishment are essentially bad, inasmuch as the Officers of the Crown have many advantages in the conducting of their prosecutions over the unfortunate defendants, not allowed in any other Court of this country, and not allowed even to the Crown itself in any other description of cases.

Almost every mercantile man may be involved in questions which must be decided in Exchequer. Whether the offence charged has been committed intentionally, or is the result of some lapsus on the part of the dealer himself, or those for whom he is responsible— or whether there be an offence committed at all—the mode adopted in getting up these prosecutions is always the same. The crime, be it either real or imaginary, intended or not so, is generally first discovered by an Excise Officer, who reports to the Collector of the district. These persons frequently participate in the event of a conviction, in the sum exacted from the unfortunate party, in the shape of penalty or fine, and accordingly they have an interest in all the convictions which occur. But, whether they so participate, or no, is a matter of little moment; for, in proportion to the convictions happening in their respective districts, in proportion are they considered by their superiors in power, active and meritorious officers. Having, therefore, in one way or other, a strong incentive to action, these persons generally spare no toil in examining witnesses, and ascertaining facts, to fix upon the dealer the stigma of a charge. From the facts so collected, they often draw, and state inferences perfectly erroneous; to the witnesses, they in the hurry of their zeal, impute a knowledge of circumstances beyond what the witnesses can vouch at the hour of trial, and this being the character of the evidence, not probably from intention, but from the persons who take it being uneducated and unable to conduct properly such legal investigations, the same is forwarded to the Solicitor of Excise at Edinburgh, who afterwards forwards it, either with or without his own remarks, to the Board of Excise, now removed to London, who, in the plenitude of their power, orders the dealer to be subpoenaed to Exchequer.

The subpoena is the commencement of a suit, which is terminated by a trial before a Jury and the Barons and it is extraordinary, that this writ, the first step of a process, which may deprive the defendant of his last shilling, does not state how, when, or where the alleged offence was committed, or hint at the manner in which liability is said to have been incurred. Upon these important and essential points the defendant is left in the dark; while in every other court in the kingdom, and in cases of the most trifling amount, he would at once be put in possession of the facts, on the strength of which he is said to be liable, and be thus enabled either to enter on a vigorous defence, or amicably to adjust the question.

The svbpana, while it is thus silent as to the grounds of charge, mentions the day of trial, which we believe may be either distant, or near at hand, as the Solicitor thinks fit, and the only thing probably which the party accused can do, is to apply to the Collector, who may, if sufficiently civil, give verbally some vague notion of the grounds of the accusation. But, though the defendant be able and willing to shew his entire innocence, and that the proceedings have originated through false or interested information, the Collector, while he refuses to listen to this, tells the party that he must apply to the Board. The Board is consequently applied to, generally by memorial, which is sent down to the Solicitor, and by him to the Collector, and the Collector, and his officers, report farther, but only as before on one side of the question, and without examining the evidence offered on the other. The dealer receives an unfavourable answer from the Board: he may apply to the Lords of the Treasury ; but with them the same thing is repeated. At length, the trial proceeds, and the first information which the defendant receives of the grounds on which he is charged, is in the opening speech addressed to the Court and Jury by the Counsel for the Crown I

Now, there is surely, in all this, a great deal of positive unfairness and injustice. It is clearly wrong to permit ignorant and interested Excisemen to get up such cases, which ought to be superintended, and the evidence connected with which, ought to be taken by persons properly qualified by legal education, to say what is, and what is not correct and substantial evidence. Or, if these Excisemen must report, surely they ought to do so on both sides of the question. If the question raised is one of a civil nature, then it ought to be tried by the same rules as are observed in all other Courts in civil questions betwixt man and man. The Crown should state all facts and circumstances on which the charge is made, and give defendants timeous opportunity for defence, by disproving, if they can, the grounds of accusation in the same way as other litigants in all other Courts. If the case is one for a Jury, the facts, to be proved on both sides, ought to be adjusted in issues after the same form as observed in the Court of Session; but, unfortunately by the present system, a party is kept in the dark, till the trial takes place, when, from not knowing the facts to be proved against him, he cannot explain them away, (although they admit of this,) because his evidence is not at hand.

If, again, the charge in Exchequer is of a criminal nature, such as having defrauded the Revenue—then, the same timeous information of the facts on which it is made, and the witnesses by whom it is to be supported, should be given, as is nJbrded by our Criminal Letters, peculiar to our Criminal Courts.

It frequently happens, (indeed in nine cases, out of ten,) from the rash and precipitate manner in which cases are got up, that the Crown is vanquished at the hour of trial, and, strange to say, the successful party is not allowed the expenses, which are always heavy, and incurred, too, in resisting an unjust and unfounded prosecution. The reason given by the Crown Officers for this, is, that they neither ask expenses when successful, nor do they give any when unsuccessful; but this reason, although it were otherwise a good one, is not true. The prosecutions are generally for payment of duties, and for penalties: and, if the Crown Officers are successful, they exact the penalties which, of course, covers their costs. Even in cases of peculiar hardship, where sometimes the penalties are abated, the abatement is never so liberal, as not to allow a handsome sum to defray expenses. By withholding costs from a successful party, the present system operates as the system of intimidation, because a dealer, as the least of two evils, is frequently disposed to compromise an unjust demand, rather than incur expenses, the amount of which he cannot calculate with certainty.

When the contemplated abolition of the Exchequer Court takes place, Excise questions will be discussed before our Supreme Court; when, it is hoped, that the forms of procedure will be the same, as in cases betwixt man and man—where a proper just and equitable mode of procedure is observable on both sides.

LARGS REGATTA—1830. Bt A LANDSMAN No. I.

Upon the gale she stoop VI her side,
And bounded o'er the swelling tide,

As she were dancing home;
The merry seamen laughed to see
Their gallant ship so lustily

Furrow the green sea foam.

Scott's Makmiok.

Ir my father, on his departure from this mortal coil, did not leave me a large portion of this world's goods, he left me several legacies of his experience. When, upon his death his repositories were opened, a paper addressed to me was found, and, after enjoining me to a number of duties, it concluded in the following words :—" And to you, my youngest son, I also leave these rules for your future guidance;" the first, which is the only one I require to allude to, was, "Never be upon water, when you might be upon land."

This advice, for years, had been rigidly followed, and, consequently, I was totally unacquainted with every thing connected with "the element," until a letter from my early friend and school-fellow, Richard Reef, Junior, Esquire, of Greenock, arrived one morning by post, about the end of July, or the beginning of August, 1830. It contained a kind invitation to accompany him to Large Regatta—it stated, that bis father and brother intended to go, and, as he supposed, we should be called on to trip with the light fantastic toe, recommended to me diligent practice of the "first set," for the occasion. It also directed me to leave this city on the following morning by the Largs steamboat, and, particularly, to have my travelling bag replenished with silk stockings and tights. The latter article of equipment was to be provided for immediately, so I hurried to Mr. B.... the tailor—informed him of my wants, and, the same evening, my dress was sent to my lodgings. I gazed with delight on my mirror as I felt my well shaped limbs encased in the cassiroere— I danced with joy and satisfaction—a floating vision of the smiles of the fair, and the envy of the other sex, passed rapidly before me, and on very pleasant terms with myself and at peace with all the world, although not before a sad struggle in denuding my nether man, I sunk into a sweet and profound repose. Next morning, at eight of the clock, I embarked in the good steamboat Largs, Captain Lapslie, and, having a favourable tide, the

beautiful panorama of villas, and grove*, and mountains, in their quick succession, delighted me. I sought for a congenial soul to participate in the splendid scene, and, having always found the ladies " Nature's fairest work" peculiarly susceptible of her beauties, I looked around and beheld a lovely farm.

"She seemed to stand, The guardian Naiad of the land!"

A figure so faultless must have a fine face, I said, and I thought the omen good, that the words glided so trippingly along my tongue—" Fair creature," said I, a* I approached her, " Nature seems to put on her fairest livery for thee!" she turned her face slowly towards me, and gradually disclosed to my wondering eye* the withered visage of my maiden aunt, with whom, for twenty years, at least, our family had no intercourse, in consequence of her unkindness to one of my sisters. She grinned horribly a ghastly smile, and, satisfied with romance for one day, I retired to breakfast, which had just been announced.

Richard Reef, Junior, Esquire, received me at Greenock with open arms. I was introduced to his father, a veteran seaman, who had left not a few of the enemy dead on the deck, at Trafalgar, and, to keep them company as a remembrancer, he had also left them his right leg. From him, too, I had a courteous reception.

Notwithstanding the lowness of their steeple, I love the people of Greenock, and all strangers will enjoy a visit to that stirring and hospitable town. Let young men, too, be warned, to take care of their hearts as they approach it, for there are more dark blue eyes and ruby lips within its walls, than in any other town of the same extent.

Our party, consisting of Messrs. Reef, Senior and Junior, two boatmen, and myself, embarked in young Reefs pleasure yacht, the Warbler, at two o'clock, bound for Largs. I did not experience sea-sickness in the steam boat, but now I was doomed to endure its pangs, at least the first stage of them. Massy grey clouds were hurrying across the sky, and the sea breaking into foam, was roaring dreadfully betwixt Dunoon Castle and the Clocb. I therefore went below, but all in vain; men bawling, sails flapping, and ropes ravelling upon deck, prevented me from enjoying any repose. I became, at length, alarmed, when these sounds encreased still louder, and hailed my companion—

"What is all this, Reef?"

He answered from above, "We are now beating down channel."

"Sealing down channel upon my head, whilst I sit quietly here! No, I cannot allow myself to be immolated in a pyramid of gravel!" So I flew upon deck; but there was little comfort for me there. One side of the vessel was altogether below water, whilst from the other, every half minute, a large body of spray was thrown into the air, and finally alighted on my person; but the callousness of sea-sickness prevailed—I became indifferent to every thing but my own situation.

•' Keep her full," cried Reef.

I found it impossible.

"Slack away the main-sheet—ease her away," cried Reef.

I availed myself of the order, and demonstrated, alas! too palpably, to my friends, the justice I had done to the sumptuous breakfast of the steward of the steamer. I was as uncomfortable as possible; but the wind diminished, and at length we arrived in Largs Bay. It forms a beautiful crescent, adorned with elegant houses, whilst its emerald beach displays all the fashion and flutter of a promenade. I felt that an impression was now to be made on the spectators who witnessed our arrival, and I lounged rather carelessly at the bow of the Warbler. Reef suddenly called out " Mind yourself"—and it was time. I had got within the ranges of the cable, and in a moment my heels were tripped up, and I was over the side. How powerfully did my father's advice return at this moment to my remembrance!

I suddenly discovered a large body travelling downwards, like myself, and involuntarily caught hold of it; at length it rested, and I found it was the anchor of the Warbler. Not wishing a closer intimacy, in my present circumstances, I collected all my decaying powers, and placing my feet at the bottom, whilst at the same time I assumed a position nearly erect, I sprang upwards. By this exertion I ascended to the surface, where a kindly boathook picked me up, to the inexpressible joy of our party—and my own. We hastened ashore ill a boat that had come to our assistance. I rubbed my eyes, and enquired " What large building is that?" I was told that there I could have a bath for two shillings; bat Reef slyly informed the boatmen I would never pay that sum, as I knew where to get one for nothing.

I cannot record that I received a dry reception at Largs. On the contrary, it was very much the reverse. One gentleman hastened with a cordial, another presented me a glass of wiue; even dry clothes were volunteered ; nor did I think it necessary to reraise any one of these acts of kindness, more especially the latter, as the reader is already acquainted with the contents of my travelling bag, and how very unsuitable they were for my use at this time.

"Go as fast as you can to the Inn," said a kind-hearted Glasgow gentleman.

I enquired the Landlord's name.

"You cannot go wrong—take the nearest; Mr. Strahan's." "And the other?" said I. "Oh, Mr. Underwood's"

I told him I would prefer the latter, as I always liked consistency, and I had been under water already.

GLASGOW THEATRE.

As we are bound, in our capacity of Critics, to give particular attention to the Drama, we should have been very well pleased to present our readers with a regular account of the performances in what is called the Royal Theatre of Glasgow. We have been discouraged, however, from undertaking this task, by the poverty of the materials, on which we should have to work; for there is, probably, no respectable town in Scotland so ill provided with an establishment of actors, as the boasted Capital of the West. Several reasons are commonly assigned for this deficiency; and the one most generally spoken of, is the aversion which our citizens are supposed to entertain for theatrical amusements. This charge has been so often repeated, along with the stale joke of the gentlemen of Glasgow liking to drink punch better than to escort ladies to the play, that it has grown into a stigma for dull wits to perpetuate against the taste of our townsmen. So far, however, is such a reproach from being true, that we believe if the subject be impartially enquired into, it will be found that the people of Glasgow have always shewn judgment in estimating true merit as often as it has appeared on their stage; and that when they have ceased to patronise the theatre, it has been because it did not deserve their support. To confirm tbis remark, it is only necessary for our elderly readers to recal to memory the times when our theatre was conducted upon deserving principles; when active managers were ever on the alert to procure amusement for the public, and when many of the rising geniuses were numbered in our established companies. We have only to remember the brilliant galaxy which wooed and won admiration, when Rock, Digges, or Jackson, were the patent lessees; and when Young, Macready, Brooks, and Duncan, drew, nightly, applause from our listening audiences. When our boards were trod by individuals like these, the Glasgow theatre was encouraged ; and it was by the approbation of a Glasgow pit that some of the first Stars were introduced to the notice of the English metropolis. Since those halcyon days, the sock and the buskin have attracted less interest among our citizens; but this diminution of favour has taken place in such a manner as to prove that it has not been the cause, but the consequence of a deterioration in our theatrical establishment. The grand scale on which the theatre which lately stood in Queen Street was built, involving the expense of its rent, repair, and other details of management, has al ways imposed upon its lessees a pecuniary burden, which they have usually endeavoured to lighten by diminishing the charges of their troops. This economy was in fact pursued so far by our late managers, who have been mostly men without capital, that talent has been for some time completely banished from our stage as a regular appendage, and, even when it has now and then made its appearance in the shape of a London star, it has been so entirely destitute of support as to make it an irksome task to listen to any of the parts except that of the principal performer. A rational period seemed to be offered to this retrenching system by the opportune burning of the late theatre, the absorbing vortex in which

large sums of money were annually swallowed; but this accident, instead of introducing any improvement into the state of our corps dramatique, served only to transfer the patent Into the hands of a manager, whose taste and liberality, we shall have another opportunity of discussing.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

TEMPORA MUTANTUR.

When at my Mary's feet I lay,

Imploring her to be my bride;
It seemed impossible one day,—

I could be absent from her side ;
But now, that she's been mine a year,

And bridal smiles are worn away,
The wonder is—it would appear—

How I could even spend one day!

FINE ARTS.

As lovers of the Fine Arts, it gives us much pleasure to learn that the Fourth Exhibition, under the patronage of the Glasgow Dilettanti Society has not closed, without our city and neighbourhood having obtained some of its most choice works, to improve their taste, and to encourage art.

We understand that the beautiful figure of the " Sleeping Boy'' by Ritchie, whose contributions this year, in Sculpture, have been invaluable, was purchased by, and has been transferred to the Gallery, of Sir Akchd. I'Amphi M , Bart.

J. ( 'ok in rr, Esq. has become the proprietor of Howard's charming picture of ** Rebecca."

A. M'lellan, Esq. has purchased the much admired model, in wax, "Fidelity," and several valuable paintings.

The "Mountain Watch," a first-rate picture,^by Harvey, was bought by Richard Jennek, Esq.

GENTLEMEN'S FASHIONS FOR JANUARY.

EVENING DRESS.

A Blue dress coat; the lappels are cut large at top, and the collar-ends square, to match, without flaps, aud cut so as to mark out well the wrist; the skirts may be lined with serge of the same colour; velvet collar, same colour, and gilt buttons, breast size. Waistcoat of plain green velvet, with turn-down collar, and white marsella under-waistcoat, to match. Trousers, half-dress, of black kerseymere, cut easy to shape, aud short at bottomi worn without straps or bottoms.

MORNING WAISTCOATS. Although there is an excellent variety of this article, the Thibet shawl is the most fashionable; they are always made doublebreasted, with broad square-end collar, aud calculated to button across. The best dressed gentlemen wear them open or turned back, with an under-waistcoat to correspond. Shawl waistcoats are not bound. Very few of the shawl borders are worn now for under-waistcoats; silks of blue aud silver, or purple, or crimson and gold, for dress, with other colours for morning, seem to have superseded them.

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

"A Symposium in the Edinburgh Rainbow," by a Modern Athenian, will appear immediately.

The Communication from our valued Correspondent in Gayfield Square, Edinburgh, will have a place as soon as we have room.

Miss Peggy Jones's hint wilt be attended to, were it for nothing more than the beautiful specimen of caligraphy which she sent us.

"The Miseries of a Governess" will shortly make its appearance.

»,* In order to insure this Publication being on the Breakfast Table every morning, it is requested that intending Subscribers will leave their names and addresses at the Publisher's

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