Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

are twice bairns, and that there is nae fule like an auld fule, otherwise I canna conceive how I lippened mysell to the leading of that mad callant. I make nae doubt the refection in the boat-the gude news about my wife's sillar and the blackamoors in the wood, as weel as the wine and toddy after dinner, all helped to elevate me something abune my ordinar on that night. We may shape our bairn's wyliecoat, but we canna shape their wierd, says the proverb, and, as little can men, come to the years of understanding, at all times calculate the propriety of their footsteps. Hech! if I had foreseen what was about to befall me on that occasion, it wudna hae been in the power of a fifty-horse steam engine to gar me rax a tae that night. But man proposes and God disposes-and it was ordained that I should witness fules, and be a fule for a'e time in my life-sae it is needless to channer ony mair on what cannot be helped.

With this Diels' buckie, as I said, I took my way, and, before I weel kent where we were, intil the court-house of the burgh of Kilsyth, we found oursels stewing, like potatoes, in the heart of a batch of weavers, and siclike clamjamffery, all gabbling and smoking or chewing tobacco, and trying to look as wise as Solomon or the twelve Judges of Israel. The room was wee in size, laich in the roof, and desperately ill lighted up with twa penny candles and a cruisy, and a sconce at the back of the chair that was set apart for the preses. My young freend seemed to enjoy the company wonderfully weel, and was straiking and turning up his whiskers, and clavering wi this ane and that ane, speiring when the chairman was expected to come forward with a statement of his mission to Glasgow, on the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill-the new charter of the people's liberties. Hearing that this was about Reform, my heart just began to grue, having, for the reasons advanced, determined to steer clear of politics, and kenning weel that meetings of this sort were not countenanced by government, when I was in office as a magistrate. Howsomever, I thought naebody would ken me, and just snooled as far back intil a corner as I could weel do, without whitening my good coat on the wall. My pouches, I took special care to button up, as weel as to see if the safety chain of my watch was quite right and tight. Having eased my fears on these points, I determined to haud my wheisht, and hear how

matters went on.

Weel, in due process of nature, in comes a man with a Kilmarnock cap upon his pow, a cutty pipe in his mouth, an apron tucked up round his waist, without a coat, but with stocking sleeves on his twa arms, and takes the chair, while cries of order, order, raised a din in the house that was quite unbearable. Some of the company, too, who had been wearying for the appearance of their directing spirit, were not slack in expressing displeasure at the slowness of his move

ments.

A calm at last occurred, and then the chairman snuffled out, like a Cameronian precentor-Mr. Secretar, ye will read, to the members of the union, the minutes of the last congress, which being done, the chairman rose, and spoke as follows, in thir individual words; for I had all my lugs about me, and can keep mind, baith of speeches and sermons, when I like:

"Gentlemen,-Members of the Kilsyth Union, and freends of ceevil and religious leeberty all over the world, ye have heard Mr. Secretar read the minutes of our last congress, at which I was appointed delegate till proceed to Glasgow, for to attend the grand assembly of delegates that sat there, in the Trades' Hall, upon the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill, which secures to us, for ever and ever, amen, our inalienable rights, and overthrows despotic oligarchists and. corrupt boroughmongers. My freends and constituents, depend upon't, I will tell you every thing concerning my mission, depend upont. [Jock Blooter, mak less din, blawin your nose, and I'll thank you, Edie

Morrison, no to boast as if a meally taty had gane doun your wrang hause.]

Blooter-Haud your snash, Rab Tamson, I'm as gude as yoursell, ony day, and can blaw my nose as loud and lang as I like.

Secretary.-Seelence, gentlemen-seelence, confound ye, and let business purceed. The preses is in possession of the house, the whole house, and nothing but the house.

Eddie Morrison.-Aye, and a gill besides, that we'll hae to pay for but I'll vote for nae supplies. Many Voices.-Order-order-quastion-quastion. Tam Blooter.-We wad understan' him better if he cleared his ain snotty nose, instead o' scartin at mine. President. If I am to be assulted and interrupted in this way, the house must be adjourned.

Many Voices.-No-no-no-go on-go on-quastion-quastion.

President-In continuation-After this unpleasant interruption till the business of the evening, depend upon it, me that has laboured morn and een, late and early, in the glorious cause of freedom, and the elective French cheese can have little pleasure in laying before my constituents, the tremendous and prolific results of the Glasgow Senate. It was an assembly, worthy of the palmy days of Greek and Roman liberty. The saviours of their country, the delegates from the various Unions, scattered over the face of this wretched and enslaved country, sat there, clothed with the burning aspirations of unconquered and unconquerable liberty. Depend upon it, in the bosom of your delegat, the sacred spark lost none of its brightness. I felt myself one of the chosen Spartan bands that left their bones and blood to manure the glorious field of Thermopylae. Depend upon it, gentlemen. You saw me take my departure from Kilsyth-you saw me ascend the sides of the trackboat, you heard my adieus, and you marked the form of your delegate melting away in the azure distance of cerulean indistinctness. You now see me amongst you, depend upon it, once more with the same feelings, but more exalted hopes than those, which were mine, when I departed for Glasgow, to advance the cause of freedom, and carry the suffrages of a united and determined people, in favour of the Bill, the whole Bill, and nothing but the Bill. Here you know nothing of poleetics; but I have learned poleetics since I went to Glasgow-oh, we are blind, you are blind depend upon it, but the scales have fallen from my eyes, and I will teach you the divine study of poleetics. The day of the bloody sabreing boroughmongers is at hand-the knell of corruption is rung out. We shall be free to do as we like, when the people are represented in a reformed House of Commons, depend upon it. There shall be no taxes, nor greedy tax gatherers then. Meat and maut, gentlemen, we'll have then, depend upon't, and nothing to pay. Every man for his own hand then, according to the imperscriptible laws of nature and natural reason."

A good deal more of such unconnected discourse was blethered, the only pairt of which that was intelligible, was when the chairman gave his account anent being desired at the meeting in Glasgow, to cash up the subscription from Kilsyth, and his admission that there was not a rap in their exchequer. But this afforded to the secretary a handle for proposing, that a subscription should be set on foot for the exigencies of the Union, which being carried by acclamation, a greasy hat made its devious progress through the meeting. To my astonishment, Mr. Robert flung intil it half a crown with the air of a nobleman, but when it came to me I said naething, though the coppers were jingled in my face twa three minutes, in fack, as if it had been an elder's ladle in a landward kirk. I, however, muttered something about having nae loose change, thinking to mysell that my saxpence would be better waured niest Sunday upon my ain parish puir,

than at ony sic gatherings. For this, however, I got some unco fierce girns, and ae dirty thin chafted hauflins callant had the impudence to blaw some pluffs o' tobacco reek direckly in my een.

Weel, the meeting was nae like to skail, and me being anxious to get out to the cauler air, was making my way to the door, when the cry got up-“ He's a Tory-he's a boroughmongering spy," and I felt my coat tails pookit, and a gude wheen of the lovers of freedom dunching me with their elbucks in the ribs sae devilitsch hard that my corruption began to rise; but ye may guess what kind of a tirravee I was in, when a lump of a chield came ahint me, and, with ae dunkle on the crown of my split-new thirty-shilling hat, drave it clean ower my face, and shaved the skin aff my unoffending nose at the same time. Seeing my dilemma and confloption, and that the bloody rabeatours were set upon insulting and abusing me, up springs my young friend on the table, kicking ower ane of the twa penny candles, which brought its lowe richt into the peery e'ed secretary, and burned half a thin whisker that the creature had on its chafts, and then putting himsell in a grand attitude like a playactor, to my utter astonishment roared out: "Mr. President and gentlemen, I am grieved and mortified at the conduct of my countrymen this evening. Some ruffians have dared to lift their unhallowed butcherly fists against my illustrious friend, the great Attwood of Birmingham-the father of the Unions, the friend of Earl Grey, and the instrument in the hand of providence that is to effect a regeneration in our system of Parliamentary representation."

Scarcely were these words said, when there got up a wonderful rampaugin, huzzaing and confusion. The chap that nearly foundered me was kicked out of the room-and a cry got up for a speech from Mr. Attwood, and here again my Deils' buckie got in a word to the effeck, that, considering the manner in which Mr. Attwood had been insulted, he would not consent that Mr. A. fatigued with his long journey, and irritated in his feelings by those whom he regarded as his own children should do any such thing, but he would beg of him to address them publickly next day on the Barwood.

Here deafening cheers got up-and a still louder cry that Mr. Attwood should be chaired home. With that, before I knew where I was, I found myself stuck into an arm chair. The arm chair was placed upon a hand barrow, and its spokes elevated upon the shoulders of four stout fellows, and in this guise was I parauded like a show after nightfall through the hail toun, with a band of women and weans and men rampaging about me like wild cats or hyænas of the wilderness. For a while I was in a state of perfect bewilderment, and was not sure whether the savages meant to head, hang or burn me, but at length when I gradually came to my senses I could distinguish the sounds of a base drum, a wee drum and twa cracked flutes or fifes bumming and skirling before me, and twa cotton shawls stuck upon rake shafts, with some devices painted on them with red ochre and lamp black, flapping at ilka side. Sic a bizz I am sure was never heard in the village in a moonlight night, and the cries of Attwood for ever, and the sovereignity of the people were clean dumbfoundering. I was sure some judgment was to light on me for my innocent pairt in this wicked affair, and sure eneuch my apprehensions were fully realized. Just as we were in the middle of our parade, it came to pass, that some horned nout, great big Angus shire stots, unfortunately met us full in the teeth, being on their way to the South to some cattle tryst, and the brute beasts, half in fricht and half in desperation, charged us right in front. Ane carried the base drum off on its horns, and dang the bow-leggit drummer ower a feal dike. My body guard, with the twa flags, roared lustily, "stand fast in the cause of freedom-they're no bills, only stots," but at that mo

ment, anither shaggy deevil that had been maddened with a poke in its ee, and wi a tail swirling about like a flail, came roaring against us like a bull of Bashan, that rather than stand the shock, my body bearers flung me, chair, barrow and all down, and magnanimously, like reasoning animals, betook themsells to flight. For me, I lighted something saftly in a sappy midden, that in the mercy of providence was near at hand, but mair dead nor alive. In fack, the beast contented itself with demolishing the flag, and as for the ensigns, they had run like leeries, leaving neither hilt nor hair ahint them. Having sank in this bed, no certainly ane of down, something abune the shoe mouth, it was five minutes or mair before I got mysell fairly gathered thegither, nor did I like to budge till I heard the rumours of war dying away far down the town. With a heavy heart and sair soiled raiment, I hirplit on to the laird's, where I found his freends waiting on me for supper, but his neer-do-weel nevoy, or whatever he was, that brought me into sic awsome peril of life and limb, didna show his impudent face that nicht. I am thinking he had fancied I was murdered, and no wanting to face the Lords of Justiciary, got into hidings, for he was not heard tell of for a fortnight or mair; but I was sae desperately mischieved, that it took sair prigging on the part of his respectable and afflicted parents and freends, to prevent me frae publishing an advertisement in the papers, offering a reward for his appre hension and punishment. What befell me in the anld castle after this bluidy mischanter, will afford matter for my next chapter.

"PUT THE PIPES IN THE POCK." "He kens muckle wha kens when to speak, buat far mair wha kens whan tae haud his tongue." HENDERSON'S PROVERBS.

ONE beautiful morning, in the early part of summer, while proceeding on foot from Falkirk to Stirling, the writer chanced, at a turning of the road, come upon a man busily engaged in forcing a pair of bagpipes into the mouth of a sack. Conceiving the circumstance rather odd, I stopped to enquire the rea son for his thus wishing to conceal from view the instrument of his calling. The man raised his head, and, with that sly, sarcastic tone, peculiar to the Scottish peasantry, when questioned on subjects which can only be of importance to themselves, thus replied to my query:" Since you're at the trouble o' speerin', nae doubt it's but right you should ken. The pipes dinna belang tae me, but tae a neiber o' mine wha gat himsel fu' at Doun fair and left them in the house whar he had been playing. Now, am just takin them hame to him, and I was thinking tae mysel, as I ken naething about music, if I were to carry them openly, I wad only be exposing myself, for the folks that dinna ken me wad be asking me to play, and they wad tak' it amiss if I didna play, while the folks that ken me wad be thinking I was wishing tae get the credit of being able to do what I ken naething about, sae I think the safest way is just to put the pipes in the pock." I thanked the good man for thus satisfying my curiosity and passed on.

I have frequently since, in the course of my perigrinations through life had occasion to remark, that, if conduct similar to that of my friend with the pipes, were in more general practice, we would have fewer men exposing themselves or imposing upon others. For instance, when Cicero Snivelarius presents his awkward and ungainly figure in the Trades' Hall, and endeavours to enlighten the audience on the state of the nation in a strain of oratory, which, though heard from one end of the room to the other, yet, from cer tain nasal variations in his tones, defies the powers of the most dexterous and intelligent reporter to commit to paper, I have invariably thought he had mistaken the bent of his genius and that it would be much better for him when he feels the cacoœthes lo

quendi coming on to follow the example we have mentioned, and just put the pipes in the pock.

I have also met with people who display a longing after distinction, though in a different way from that which forms the ruling passion of our friend Cicero. Their great ambition is, to be considered people of family, and, presuming on the quality of their broad cloth, the extent of their cash account, and, above all, the short memories of their early but less fortunate acquaintances, attempt to push themselves forward as the magnates of society whose countenance is to be considered as a passport to genteel life. These people are particularly partial to antiquated china, and reliques of the olden time, not because they are embued with the spirit of old Monkbarns, but that they may have it in their power to shew off the nick-nacks as heir-looms, or as what once adorned the " old fashioned cupboard of my great-grandmother." Now only think what a feather it is in the cap of a Glasgow man to have had a GREAT-GRANDMOTHER who could afford such fine old china!! The novus homo, to whom it is shewn, is lost in respectful admiration of the antiquity of the family; but, by-and-bye, he gets a little insight into matters and finds no great difficulty in supplying himself with a great-grandmother, and a stock of as antiquated china as his neighbours. This is all very well and harmless enough in itself, but, as old acquaintances tend to spoil the sport, I would advise all such magnates either to cut old cronies a (thing, by-the-bye, they are ready enough to do) or when they feel an inclination to prose about great-grand-mama and her old china in their presence, either to tip them the wink confidential, or put the pipes in the pock till a more favourable opportunity.

When I happen to hear of a reverend incumbent, who has got a call to a more lucrative charge, endeavouring in his farewell sermon to arouse the sympathies of his simple-minded flock, by describing the unbounded attachment he entertains for them, the distress which he suffers in contemplating the approaching separation, and even giving way to his feelings so far as to call forth tears of regret from the eyes of himself and every one present, I have thought, while reflecting that a sacrifice of a few pounds on the part of his Reverence would have averted this awful calamity from himself and his people, that, in place of becoming lachrymose on the subject, he would have acted with greater propriety if he had said nothing about it, but just put the pipes in the pock, and retired, in silence, to enjoy the advantages of his call. Or when I have heard some one of the learned professors of our university, in returning thanks for the honours done him at a public dinner, extolling the seminary to which he belonged as the fountain of learning, the storehouse of wisdom, the conservative depository of unpublished lore, the patron of science and the hot-bed of genius; and, though I might have been almost inclined to yield assent to the eloquence with which these high sounding pretensions were urged, yet when the ruins of an observatory, dedicated to the study of the heavenly bodies, but now neglected by our present faculty of earthly bodies, passed in review, followed by the immense piles of books (the compulsatory donations of authors) rotting in sheets, which our parsimonious guardians of literature will not deign even to put in boards-not to mention the disgraceful roll of bursaries stripped of their funds to augment the salaries of men, who, according to their pretensions, ought to have been the nursing fathers of such patriotic endowments-the manuscripts, also, of their great but ill-requited patron, Zachary Boyd, mouldering to dust* without a single effort being made to preserve

Perhaps it may be information to some of our readers to know, that two volumes of the MSS. of Z. Boyd, in the keeping of the University, are now past recovery. How many poor students, for a trifling consideration, would have gladly engaged in the renewal of the Work?

what may still be intelligible-I have thought that the learned Theban would have shewn a much greater degree of wisdom, if, in place of attempting to bolster up the credit of himself and his brethren, by such illtimed pretensions, he had just followed the example of our friend with the pipes.

The same reflections, though of a more painful na ture, have occurred on seeing certain of our Reverend and enlightened instructors, forgetful of those heavenly precepts, which they are in the habit of inculcating, leaving the peaceful round of their duties, and entering the arena of popular discussion, where, owing to their ignorance of the formalities of public meetings, they have placed themselves in positions where they have been laughed out of that equanimity of temper* which they so earnestly enjoin. We have unconsciously heaved the sigh of regret as we thought, how much more respectable they would have appeared had they just "put the pipes in the pock," and attended to their sacred avocations.

If I may be allowed, after alluding to such venerable characters, to hint at one grievous, and, I fear, irreclaimable sinner, against propriety and good taste-I mean the all-sufficient personage who regulates the histrionic amusements of our city. The absurdities of this would-be factotum has already drawn upon him the critical attention of a considerable portion of the press; yet the mind of our manager seems, like Hodge's beard, to be "made of opposition stuff," and scorns to yield either to the censure or the advice of his friends. -Like manager Strut, he conceives himself a fixed star in his own theatrical hemisphere, round which all wandering stars may revolve if they please, but there must be no exclusive brilliancy on their part. If they shine, he must shine along with them-the applause as well as the profits must be shared. This peculiarity in his system of management was most strikingly illustrated a few evenings ago, when he came forward to put his queer-looking mug in trim for accompanying Mr. Sapio in the duet of " All's Well." Displeased at the reception he met with, he came on again, a-la-Strut, and informed the audience that he had sung along with Braham and Sinclair. Now, really, I think our manager must have been humming, when he said he was singing in such company. However, be that as it may, I would advise him in future, when his ears are assailed by a hurricane of hisses from all parts of the house, just to put the pipes in the pock, and slip off to the adjacent, with as little noise and as much expedition as possible.

In short, there are many situations, both in public and private life, in which the example of our unsophisticated friend might be followed with advantage. You can mingle in few companies where you will not find occasion to remark that some individual or other, when putting forth his pretensions, would be much benefitted by attending to the lesson. Least, however, my readers may conceive that I am encroaching too much on their time, and that I stand myself in want of the advice which I am thus bestowing upon others, I will, with their leave, put the pipes in the pock till some other occasion.

For a man to lose his temper is by some considered a misfortune, but really there are tempers so very bad, that the sooner they are lost the better for the individual. There was a temper of this kind went amissing on a recent occasion, which we would not advise the owner to be at the expense of advertising for,

LITERARY CRITICISM,

SCOTTISH PROVERBS, Collected and Aranged by ANDREW HENDERSON, with an Introductory Essay by W. Motherwell, (unpublished.)-Edinburgh, 1832.

THE Compiler and collector of this volume of Scottish Proverbs has long been known to the inhabitants of this city as a respectable artist, and as a gentleman deeply embued with the philosophy of proverbs. Many indivi. duals have previously laboured in this wide field of tra

dition, and have caught and given permanence, by a few drops of ink, to the odd, curious and instructive Scottish proverbial expressions of the past, but it is only justice to say, that Mr. ANDREW HENDERSON has outstripped them all, and now gives to his countrymen, not only the best and fullest collection of our national proverbs, but that in a form at once valuable to the man of letters and the man of the world.

The introductory essay, by Mr. Motherwell, is replete with the Bibliographical lore for which that gentleman is so justly celebrated. In this learned treatise, he has not only shown us what has been done by all the previous Scottish collectors, for the purpose of rescuing the proverbial "wisdom of our ancestors" from oblivion, but likewise what has been accomplished by Greek, Roman and English Antiquarians. As a Bibliographical Essay it is equal to anything that we have seen from the pens of either D'Isreali or Dibdin. Mr. Motherwell, after discussing the bibliographical history, enters at some length into the philosophy of proverbs, and proves satisfactorily, that "in relation. to changes in the manners of a people, their customs, and various minute incidents connected either with places or persons," these quaint sentences, or picturesque aphorisms, like traditionary lyrics, frequently preserve particulars which contemporary history has failed to record. We agree also with the ingenious writer of the treatise, that the "domestic habits of a people are best known by their proverbs," and it is perhaps a matter of regret to perceive, that from the number which Mr. Henderson has arrayed under the head of "Dirt," there exists no fewer than fifteen sayings, one half of which at least, have been contrived to excuse filthiness! Mr. Motherwell next enters upon the antiquity of proverbs, and in treating the subject makes the following judicious observations:

Ere letters were invented, wisdom was abroad in the world. Proverbs are the germs of moral and political science, and they not unfrequently constituted the compendious vehicles for the transmission of the dogmas of religion, and the first principles of philosophy, of arts and sciences. In this shape, oral tradition preserved among primitive ages the knowledge of times still more remote; and, what marble, and brass, and other devices of human invention have allowed to perish, proverbs, floating upon the living voice, have perpetuated. It would form no incurious speculation to analyse the various ingenious aids resorted to in the construction of these short sentences, to give them currency, and furnish aids to the memory. Brevity is a distinguishing characteristic of them all. Weight of sentiment, and justness of metaphor, ought to be another, to justify the eulogy of Tillotson, where he says, "the little and short sayings of wise and excellent men are of great value, like the dust of gold, or the least sparks of diamonds." Antithetical point recommends one class; alliteration, or consonance of letters, another. Some excite attention by a witty and unexpected combination of ideas, and others, by a caustic or sly humour; while not a few, and these, perhaps, not the least numerous, nor least ancient, can be no otherwise described than as an old writer expresses it

Rymes, running in a rattling row;

which class, we are inclined to affiliate upon our Scandinavian ancestors. To rime a rat to death, is an English proverb, and, with Sir William Temple, we concur in thinking it a vestige of Scandic superstition, referring to the magical powers ascribed to the Gothic

runes.

Proverbs are, to the vulgar, not merely a sort of metaphysical language, but a kind of substitute for philosophical principles. A man whose mind has been enlarged by education, and who has a complete mastery over the riches of his native language, expresses his ideas in his own words; and when he refers to any thing beyond the matter under his view, glances towards an abstract principle.

A vulgar man, on the other hand, uses those proverbial forms which tradition and daily use have made familiar to him; and when he makes a remark which needs confirmation, he clenches it by a proverb. Thus both, though in a different way, illustrate the observation of Lord Bacon, that--" The nature of man doth extremelye covet to have something fixed and immoveable, and as a Rest and support of the mind."

Cervantes, in painting the characters of Don Quixote and his sapient squire, the inimitable Sancho, has excellently well brought out the distinction to which we refer. The Don is a gentleman of education—a man of fine fancy and feeling, whose mind has been embued, not less with classical ideas than romantic notions, and who, on all subjects except that on which his madness turns, is the most refined, the most disinterested, generous, and rational of human beings. Sancho, on the other hand, is a personification of the vulgar mind: low, selfish, and cunning, and also so far mad

Before quit

as to give credence to his master's wildest fancies, in as much as they seemed to chime in with his own hopes and wishes. On all occasions the Don ever expresses himself like a scholar and a gentleman, Sancho like one of the vulgar herd. The knight uses his own words to express his own ideas; but the vocabulary of the squire is the inexhaustible proverbs of his country. ting this subject, we may refer to the admirable rules laid down by the knight for Sancho's guidance in the use of proverbs, before assuming the government of Barateria, as of general application. They relieve us from dogmatising upon that point, and they agree with the rules laid down by Aristotle in his Rhetoric with regard to epithets, namely, that in discourse they ought to be used as mere condiments, not as food.

Our limits forbid us entering at greater length into any of the other valuable topics which are discussed in the preliminary essay by Mr. Motherwell. Suffice it to say, that it will be found a most valuable contribution to the literary history of Scotland.

Mr. Henderson, besides exhibiting much industry and ingenuity in the collection of Proverbs now before us, has enriched his work with some most characteristic etchings. The volume is beautifully printed, and well got up, and is, upon the whole, one that is highly creditable to all connected with its publication. We wish it every success, convinced as we are that it is the best collection of Scottish Proverbs that has ever been offered to the public, and one which ought to be in the library of every literateur and every Scotchman.

LONDON FASHIONS FOR MAY.

HATS AND BONNETS.-Moire, crape, rice straw, and pagne are the materials in favour for hats and bonnets. Both have the brims reduced almost to the smallest possible dimensions. Bonnets are still of the capote form, several of those composed of moire are lined with crape, and ornamented with a sprig of lilac placed on one side. Those of lilac moire lined with white crape, and ornamented with a sprig of white lilac are very pretty. Snow balls of a small size are also employed for trimming bonnets. The most elegant of the crape capotes are those of rose or straw colour, trimmed on one side with a knot of white gauze ribbon, edged with blond lace; the ends of the knot fall low upon the brim. Morning bonnets are generally worn over a cap, trimmed with a blond niche, much narrower than those worn in the winter. The most part of the half dress bonnets have the brides dressed with blond lace. Hats composed of pagne are always either grey, or the new colour called ecru, they are lined with cherry colour, and rose of different shades, and are trimmed with gauze ribbon to correspond. A single flower of the colour of the ribbon, is inserted in a knot on one side, and drops from it upon the brim. Several new straw hats are of the capote form, the brims are short, and sit close to the ears. The basolet is of ribbond to correspond with the trimming. The brim is lined with coloured crapes, cherry is frequently employed. Gauze ribbons are frequently figured in colours. NEW MATERIALS.-Gros de Naples of different kinds, and gros d'éte are the materials in request for pelisses; they are also in favour for morning dresses. Chaly is fashionable in morning, dinner, and evening dress; there is a perfect rage for that material. Plain chaly particularly lilac and écrue are extremely pretty for negligé. Those that are flowered have the grounds either green, straw-colour, marsh mallows, or different shades of very light brown. The colours of the bouquets are extremely vivid, and very varied. There are also chalys with broad stripes, one white, the other coloured, both shaded with small and delicate patterns. The new undress muslins are of white grounds, with small woodcoloured patterns, or brown or black grounds strewed with bouquets of roses or other flowers in vivid colours. We see also some covered with branches of foliage, intermingled.

OUT-DOOR COSTUME.-Pelisses are very much in favour, they are closed in front, and ornamented on each side with rouleaus in

a very light and simple style. A good many are worn with pelerines of the same material; they are of a large size and with square ends. There is no alteration either in the shape or size of sleeves. Several high dresses are made with the corsages en guimpes, those that are of striped patterns have the material placed in such a manner as to form chevrons on the bust before and behind. Several of the new scarfs are of mousseline de laine, with very well covered patterns, upon amaranth, brown, or green grounds. The most elegent carriage scarfs are of white mousseline de laine, embroidered in coloured silk.

MORNING DRESS.-Gros de Naples, cachemiriene, and chaly are the materials most in favour at this moment, but the printed mus lins above cited will probably be worn before the end of the month. Morning dresses are invariably made high, some are partially open, and draped across the bust, others plain. Almost all have have a pelerine of the same material. Some few are round, but the greater number have long ends that cross before under the ceinture; they descend very low upon the shoulder, and there førm three or four points, which form a finish to the sleeve. Dresses of light materials have a double pelerine, and a square collar which

falls over, and makes a third row: it is in this manner that the few printed muslins that have already appeared are made.

HALF-DRESS.-Chaly of the new patterns, and Gros de Naples à lignes are most fashionable. The redingote form, very open in the bosom, is preferred; the dress must also be partially open in front, in order to show a richly embroidered muslin petticoat. The fichu should be of clear cambric, small plaited, with a falling collar, trimmed with Valenciennes lace. The under dress should have the sleeves finished with narrow ruffles, also edged with narrow lace, they fall over the hand.

HEAD-DRESSES IN HALF-DRESS.-Hats of the chapeau bibi form are very much in favour, they are of moire, or crape, and are trimmed with blond lace, gauze ribbons and flowers. The most fashionable of the latter are the mimosa, the flowers of the alve, and parias; the latter are most in request. Turbans are also in favour; they are frequently worn without any ornament. Caps of embroidered tulle, trimmed with gauze ribbons, arranged in a very novel manner, are also very fashionable.

MAKE AND MATERIALS OF EVENING DRESS.-Moire continues, and is likely to continue fashionable during the summer, particularly that which has coloured lines upon a white ground; they are of a middling breadth, lilac and white, green and white, wood colour and white, and Mousseline Sylphidi, with moire patterns, is a light and very elegant material, which promises to become very fashionable. Evening dresses are ornamented with ribbons and flowers, which are more frequently disposed upon the front of the dress than round the border; we still, however, see some ornamented in the latter style. There is great variety in corsages, some are plain, others are in crossed drapery, and a good many arranged á la Sevigné, but all are cut low. Sleeves have not altered in their form or size, but are worn something longer.

COIFFURES IN EVENING DRESS.-Head-dresses of hair are most fashionable. The hair is parted, or disposed in bends upon the forehead, that is to say, either in soft braids or platted bands. If curls are worn they must be much lighter than those worn last year. Ribbons and flowers are the ornaments generally employed. Fashionable colours are écrue, wood colour, green, dust colour, various shades of grey, brown, rose, and some fancy colours.

THE PLAY-GOER.

THE performances of the present week have been marked by a constellation of talents seldom witnessed in a provincial Theatre. Miss Jarman and Mr. Ternan of Edinburgh, Mr. Williams of the Haymarket and Weekes, have all lent their power to please, and contributed to enliven the scene. Of Miss Jarman we need not speak particularly. Her powers and reputation are too well known to require any encomium of ours. Her Rachel, in "The Rent Day," is another gem in her range of characters, and will transmit her name to posterity as one of our most feeling actress

es.

It is the most splendid piece of acting we have ever met with; indeed it is too much both for the audience and herself; for we observed, that she entered so completely into the interest of the piece, that she was almost convulsed in the mimic agony of the scene. Miss J. besides being the present elegant lady of the stage, is the most popular representative we have of fashionable comedy. Of Weekes need we speak particularly? His talent as a vocalist, and his successful personation of broad Irish comicality are, as they ought to be, highly appreciated.

Mr. Ternan is a young performer of very considerable talent. He knows his profession and understands, perfectly, what its requisites are. He also understands his author, and delivers his language according to its meaning, apart alike from the stiffness of a formal elocution, or the monotony of an unmusical ear and unmodulated voice. He is a sensible actor-forms a correct estimate of his character-is not destitute of power-and, possessing the ambition to excel, is likely to rise rapidly in his profession.

He opened in Shylock, which we, by no means, think his best effort. It wanted the years, and, with them, the features and malevolence of the Jew. It partook too much of ordinary life, was not sufficiently unique, and might, if separated from the dialogue and gabardine, have stood for Iago, Macbeth, or any of the same villainous genus. We have always viewed Shylock as a character particularly individual-surpassing every other in sordidness. Whether this arises from the peculiar acting of Kean in that character, we know not, but of this we are certain, that his is the only representation we have been accustomed to think natural. Ternan is no servile copyist; but we could discover not a few points which he seemed to have borrowed from the great prototype of the inhabitant of the Venetian Ghetto.

Ternan's Martin Heywood is a much greater performance-so is his Joseph Surface. In these he exhibits a more correct estimate of the character, some genuine feeling and a subdued taste. He does not, as some, exhaust his energies by an extravagance of effect, labouring to effect what cannot be effected, or to make something where nothing can be made-but, which is more natural, he singles out the principal features of his character, grapples with these, and holds them up prominently to his audience as the points which are to form the character.

His performance of Martin was, in fact, truly fearful. As we have seen it played before by Mr. Alexander, it conveyed too much the idea that the wretched Heywood was a passionate, vindictive and revengeful man; but with Mr. Ternan there is no such idea

conveyed. In him is perceived the honest and upright man driven to despair, by sudden and unaccountable misfortunes, and by the vile insinuations of a villain as to his wife's inconstancy. At the same time there was none of that rant, or loud vociferation, which too often is considered by actors to be requisite for bringing out the force and meaning of the author, but that calm, subdued, and fearful determination which in such situations are so appalling.

We cannot avoid noticing the part which Mr. Wallace sustained so very creditably: we can perceive seeds of genius in this young man, that if properly nurtured may yet yield him a goodly harvest. The Bullfrog of Lloyd is the best thing we have ever seen him in; indeed we do not think there is a man on the stage could do it more justice.

Mr. Williams, a native of our own city we believe, is also a clever performer-a man, we think, of decided genius. Every thing we have seen him in evinces this. His Symon is a perfect picture of the Scottish peasantry of the olden time. His Old Dozy, his Mark Chase and Sir Peter Teazle, are the productions of a superior actor. We are astonished we have not seen and heard more of this gentleman before this time.

HOGG'S FIRST INTERVIEW WITH GALT.

"I first met with this most original and most careless writer at Greenock, in the summer of 1804, as I and two friends were setting out on a tour through the Hebrides; so that Galt and I have been acquainted these twenty-eight years.

"That was a memorable evening for me, for it was the first time I ever knew that my name had been known beyond the precincts of my native wilds, and was not a little surprised at finding it so well known in a place called Greenock, at the distance of one hundred miles. I had by some chance heard the name of the town, and had formed an idea of its being a mouldy-looking village, on an ugly coast. How agreeably was I deceived, not only

in the appearance of the town, but the metal which it contained. "My two friends and I, purposing to remain there only a night, had no sooner arrived, than word had flown it seems through the town that a strange poetical chap had arrired there, and a deputation was sent to us, inviting us to a supper at the Tontine Hotel. Of course we accepted; and, on going there, found no fewer than thirty gentlemen assembled to welcome us, and among the rest was Mr. Galt, then a tall thin young man, with something a little dandyish in his appearance. He was dressed in a frock-coat and new top-boots; and it being then the fashion to wear the shirt collars as high as the eyes, Galt wore his the whole of that night with the one side considerably above his ear, and the other flapped over the collar of his frock-coat, down to his shoulder. He had another peculiarity, which appeared to me a singular instance of perversity. He walked with his spectacles on, and conversed with them on; but when he read he took them off. In short, from his first appearance, one would scarcely have guessed him to be a man of genius."

ORIGINAL POETRY,

LOVE'S FIRST QUARREL "Whar shall I get another love,

Since Johnny's ta'en the gee?
Whar shall I get another love,

Tae speak kind words tae me?
Tae row me in his cosie plaid,

When wintry winds blaw snell;
Whar shall I get another love?
Waes me! I canna tell.
Yestreen I quarrel'd wi' my love,
'Cause he behav'd unmeet,
And rubb'd my cheek wi' his hard chin
Till I was like tae greet.

I flate upon him lang and sair,
At last he took the huff-

I tell't him ne'er tae see my face,
If he kept his baird sae rough.
But a' nicht lang I lay and sicht,
Wi' the warm tear in my ee,
An' I wish'd I had my Johnny back,
Though his baird were tae his knee.
It's harsh tae use a maiden thus,
For her simplicitie,
Wha scarce can tell what loving means,
Or kens what man should be."
The youth ahint the hallan stood,
And snirtled in his sleeve;
It's cordial to a love-sick heart

Tae hear its true love grieve.
He slipp'd ahint her--eer she wist
He baith her een did steek;
"Now guess an' tell whose weel-shaved chin
Is press'd upon your cheek?"

Her lips sae rich wi' hinny dew,

Smiled sae forgiving-like,

That Johnny crook'd his thievish mou,
To herrie the sweet byke.

« ZurückWeiter »