wife till the death of the Queen in her prison, at the age of sixty, on the 2d of November, 1726. of a wife and a mother. On the 30th October, 1633, the Princess gave her husband a son, who was named George; and four years afterwards she brought him a daughter, "It is very extraordinary, and little to the credit of the named Sophia Dorothea, who became the wife of Frederick times, that not the slightest notice was ever taken of the William of Prussia, and mother of Frederick the Great. unhappy Sophia by the English Parliament or people, after To account for the distance of time between the births of the arrival of her husband. If she was guilty, a legal di these children, it must be observed that Prince George vorce ought to have been called for, upon public grounds; Lewis, soon after his marriage, entered again upon the and if she was not, the honour of the nation, and the cause military career in Hungary, where he commanded the of humanity, required her liberation, and an establishment Brunswick troops in the imperial service, and soon after in circumstances suited to her high birth and royal station. took Neuhäusel, and raised the siege of Gran. In 1686, he Instead of this, though the mother to the heir apparent, and was at the taking of Buda; in 1689, he was at the capture actually Queen of England, she was suffered to linger out of Mayence; and the next year he commanded an army of her days in a dungeon, while the mistress of her husband eleven thousand men in the Spanish Netherlands, where, in shone as a peeress of the first rank at the English court. 1693, he bore a distinguished part in the sanguinary battle "One person alone ventured to incur the royal displea. of Neerwinden. Soon after this, the prince returned to sure, by advocating the cause of the afflicted and much-inHanover; but within a few months his temper was ob-jured Sophia Dorothea of Zell. This was the prince, her son; served to be much altered, and he either looked upon his who was so fully convinced of his mother's innocence, (and wife with an eye of jealousy, or his own affections were he was not ignorant of all that had been alleged against her,) estranged from her, and transferred to some other object. that on many occasions he reproached his father for his in"A young German count, named Philip Christopher justice towards her, and openly declared his intention of Königsmark, who held the commission of colonel in the bringing her to England, and acknowledging her as Queen Swedish service, happened to be then at Hanover, and upon Dowager, in the event of his succeeding to the crown while him the suspicions of the prince fell, but whether from she was living. secret information, or any particular observations of his "This virtuous resolution he was only prevented from own, has never been determined. His highness, however, carrying into execution by the death of his unhappy mois said to have entered the bedchamber of Sophia Dorothea ther, six months before that of her husband. The prince so suddenly, that Königsmark, in his haste to escape, left made several attempts to get access to his imprisoned pahis hat behind him, which confirmed all that had been sur-rent; but all his efforts to accomplish his praiseworthy obmised of an improper intercourse between him and the ject proved unavailing, by the vigilance of the guards. princess, and a separation immediately took place. Another account of a darker hue, which obtained currency, was, that the Prince of Hanover actually found Königsmark in the room, and in his fury ran him through the body. "Though this last story appears to be incorrect in the principal points, certain it is, that the princess was arrested, and sent off to the castle of Ahlen, where she lingered out a miserable life of two-and-thirty years in close confinement, without a trial, or being allowed to see any of her family. "The fate of the colonel was never exactly known, any farther than that a report of his having died at Hanover, in the month of August, 1694, was transmitted to his friends, who were too much accustomed to such calamities in their family, to make any stir about the affair. That the count came to a violent end, seems to be put beyond all doubt by the manner in which he disappeared; and it is remarkable, that some years ago, when the castle of Zell underwent repair, the skeleton of a man was found beneath one of the floors, which revived the name and story of the unfortunate Königsmark. "He was so sensibly affected upon this point, that he had the picture of Sophia Dorothea painted in her royal robes, long before he came to the crown; and this portrait he caused to be so placed as to attract the notice of all his visitors, which gave such offence to the King, that he not only declined going himself to see the prince and princess, but forbade his courtiers from showing them that respect. It was also owing to this sentiment of filial regard, that George II., when in a passion, always took off his hat, and kicked it about the floor, without considering the place or the company. Thus it is that early impressions once fixed in the mind, create habits; and circumstances, by an association of ideas with events long since passed away, excite either disagreeable or pleasing emotions. In allusion to this remarkable history, and the effect it had on the mind of the King, Dr Hoadly, the physician, wrote his comedy of The Suspicious Husband;' the plot of which turns upon an incident similar to that which proved so disastrous to the Princess of Hanover. With this play, George II., who had little taste for the drama, was much delighted." "With regard to Sophia Dorothea, her connexions prevented any severer measures from being pursued against her A very plentiful supply of anecdotes, and gossip conthan perpetual confinement; to justify which, a decree was cerning all the four Georges, is given, which will serve published at Hanover, asserting that circumstances had to make the book popular among a certain class of readbeen produced in evidence before the consistory, of such a ers. As the extract we have already made is long, we nature as warranted the belief that she had been unfaithful shall limit ourselves to one more, in which a rather inteto her illustrious husband. The strongest of these circum-resting question is discussed as to the extent of military stances, however, was that of the hat which the prince command that should be allowed to the heir apparent of found in the room; and the agitation which the discovery naturally produced in her highness was at once interpreted into a demonstration of conscious guilt. To those who have been accustomed to the consideration of criminal charges, and the minute investigation of evidence, this case will appear more like an occurrence of an iron age, when feudal oppression and military despotism prevailed, than an event of the seventeenth century, in a country boasting of its jurisprudence. "That no proof of adultery was ever brought forward, is certain; and, for the want of it, the parties could not be legally divorced, which they certainly would have been, had evidence existed of the criminality of the princess. Some there were, even in Hanover, who not only considered Sophia Dorothea as perfectly innocent of what she was accused of, but as being actually made a victim to the prostituted affections of her husband. This opinion may now be adopted, without any hazard of refutation, or of giving of fence; for neither before the accession of the Elector of Hanover to the British throne, nor afterwards, when such a proceeding became especially necessary, as a matter affecting the succession, was the conduct of the Duchess brought, as it ought to have been, under judicial investigation. Had Sophia Dorothea been really guilty of an adulterous intercourse with Königsmark, or any other person, the public interest required a trial; but nothing of the kind ever took place, and the parties remained in the relation of man and the British throne: CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN GEORGE III. AND GEORGE IV. ON THE SUBJECT OF THE FRENCH INVASION. Napoleon, indicating a design of invading England, the "In the same year, 1803, the military preparations of spirit of the people was roused in an extraordinary degree, which was encouraged by the proceedings in Parliament. Mr Sheridan, in the House of Commons, and Earl Moira, in the Lords, described in glowing colours the power and ambition of Bonaparte; and as they were known to be the particular friends of the Prince of Wales, it was reasonably believed that their sentiments did not materially differ from those of his Royal Highness himself. As soon as were formed with incredible rapidity throughout the counhostilities were actually renewed, volunteer associations try; some of the Ministers enrolled themselves as privates: the Duke of Clarence commanded a corps near Bushy, his speech to which, on its first assembling, deserves to be recorded for its manly and patriotic simplicity: friends and neighbours,' said the Duke, wherever our duty calls us, I will go with you, fight in your ranks, and never return without you.' On the 4th of December, the Prince of Wales presented a pair of colours to this corps, on which occasion he delivered a very animated address. My Prince of Wales was extremely desirous of having a more "Participating in the patriotic ardour of the nation, the distinguished station allotted to him than that of Colonel of "My dear Son,-Though I applaud your zeal and dragoons, and a most interesting correspondence on the spirit, in which, I trust, no one can suppose any of my fasubject took place between himself, Mr Addington, the mily wanting, yet, considering the repeated declarations 1 Duke of York, and his Majesty. The Prince first address- have made of my determination, on your former applications ed a letter to Mr Addington, on the 18th of July, 1803: In to the same purpose, I had flattered myself to have heard this he says, I am aware I do not possess the experience no farther on the subject. Should the implacable enemy of actual warfare; at the same time, I cannot regard my-succeed so far as to land, you will have an opportunity of self as totally unqualified or deficient in military science, showing your zeal at the head of your regiment. It will since I have long made the service my particular study.' be the duty of every man to stand forward on such an ocMr Addington (Lord Sidmouth) did not even answer this casion, and I shall certainly think it mine to set an examletter, and on the 26th July, the Prince again wrote to him, ple, in defence of every thing that is dear to me and to my saying, 'A week has now elapsed since the Prince of Wales people. transmitted to Mr Addington a letter on a subject of the highest importance. Though he cannot anticipate a refusal to so reasonable a demand, he must still express some surprise that a communication of such a nature should have remained so long unanswered. When the Prince of Wales desired to be placed in a situation which might enable him to show to the people of England an example of zeal, fidelity, and devotion to his Sovereign, he naturally thought he was only fulfilling his appropriate duty, as the first subject of the realm, in which, as it has pleased Providence to cause him to be born, so he is determined to maintain himself by all those honourable exertions which the exigencies of these critical times peculiarly demand.' "The next day, Mr Addington returned a brief reply, appreciating the Prince's motives, and referring to answers which the King had given to similar applications made by the Prince in former years. The Prince insisted that his letter of the 26th of July should be laid before the King; and, on the 1st of August, Mr Addington wrote a brief contemptuous letter to the Prince, saying, 'that the King's opinion being fixed, his Majesty desired that no farther mention should be made to him upon the subject.' "On the 6th of August, the Prince addressed a long and very beautiful letter to the King, of which the following is an extract: "I ask to be allowed to display the best energies of my character, to shed the last drop of my blood, in support of your Majesty's person, crown, and dignity; for this is not a war for empire, glory, or dominion, but for existence. In this contest the lowest and humblest of your Majesty's subjects have been called on it would, therefore, little be come me, who am the first, and who stand at the very footstool of the throne, to remain a tame, an idle, and a lifeless spectator of the mischiefs that threaten us, unconscious of the dangers which surround us, and indifferent to the consequences which may follow. Hanover is lost; England is menaced with invasion; Ireland is in rebellion; Europe is at the foot of France. At such a moment, the Prince of Wales, yielding to none of your servants in zeal and devotion,-to none of your subjects in duty,-to none of your children in tenderness and affection-presumes to approach you, and again to repeat those offers which he has already made through your Majesty's ministers. A feeling of honest ambition, a sense of what I owe to myself and my family, and above all, the fear of sinking in the estimation of that gallant army which may be the support of your Majesty's crown, and my best hope hereafter, command me to persevere, and to assure your Majesty, with all humility and respect, that, conscious of the justice of my claim, no human power can ever induce me to relinquish it. Allow me to say, Sir, that I am bound to adopt this line of conduct by every motive dear to me as a man, and sacred to me as a prince. Ought I not to come forward in a moment of unexampled difficulty and danger? Ought I not to share in the glory of victory, when I have every thing to lose by defeat? The highest places in your Majesty's service are filled by the younger branches of the royal family; to me alone no place is assigned; I am not thought worthy to be even the junior major-general of your army. If I could submit in silence to such indignities, I should indeed deserve such treatment, and prove, to the satisfaction of your enemies and my own, that I am entirely incapable of those exertions which my birth and the circumstances of the times peculiarly call for. Standing so near the throne, when I am debased, the cause of royalty is wounded. I cannot sink in public opinion without the participation of your Majesty in my degradation; therefore, every motive of private feeling and public duty induces me to implore your Majesty to review your decision, and place me in that situation which my birth, the duties of my station, the examples of my predecessors, and the expectations of the people of England, entitle me to claim.' "The next day the Prince received the following an swer: "I ever remain, my dear Son, your most affectionate father, GEORGE R.' "On the 23d of August, the Prince sent a most beautiful, admirable, and, it may be said, unanswerable reply to this letter, which seems to have closed the correspondence Duke of York, complaining that he had been wholly overwith the King. On the 2d of October, he wrote to the looked in the very extensive military promotions which had appeared in the preceding day's Gazette. The Duke replied at great length, merely urging the King's unalterable resolution, that the heir-apparent should not make the army his profession, or receive any higher rank than that of colonel." The present work displays little research, and still less intellectual exertion, but it is well adapted for steam-boat libraries, and for lying on the side table in the travellers' room of any inn or hotel. It is quite petrifying the number of clever novel-writers we have just now. When in town, one cannot turn a corner without coming plump upon a man (or woman) who can sit you down at a moment's warning, and, writing at an average forty pages a-day, send a novel to the press in three weeks, spiritedly conceived, expressed in tolerable English, with a story sufficiently interesting to prevent one from throwing the book away before it is finished, and a pretty considerable sprinkling of jokes, sentiments, and reflections. Our only objection to these works is, that, like the successive Numbers of the New Monthly Magazine, they are so excessively like each other, we never can tell which is which. At the hot season of the year we mean about Christmas, and call it so figuratively, from the incessant noise of novels exploding about one's ears-our waking dreams are positively more dreadful than the worst nightmare. For four weeks we review, and of course read, for we are very conscientious, keep floating about in our memory--nantes in gurgite vasto not fewer than six novels per week. Their incidents -as disjointedly scattered as the wrecks of the Trojan fleet; and the fever-excitement of our over-tasked brain continues heaving with as tremendous a ground-swell as Virgil's sea. Then a fragment of the plot of one gets entangled with an anecdote of another, and that with the intricacies of a third, and the dénouement of a fourth, and we sit and strive to unravel the tangled threads, and cannot acquiesce in our state of confusion, till the perplexity and discomfort become more than we can bear, and rising in wrath, we make one vast funeral pile of the luckless authors and their works,-Colburn, John Murray, Simpkin and Marshall, and "the rest.” hundred of his brethren, whom we have sent before him It is well for Norrington, that his similarity to three to the tomb of all the Capulets, has led our memory to recall the painful labour of threading the tangled brakes of that dire wood; for, on returning to ourselves, his calm, placid, and unmeaning face meets us with an effect soothing as that of green meadows after sickness, or the unaltering and eternal expression of rooted attachment in the eye of her who we last night fancied looked coldly upon us,—a fancy which made us toss and turn the whole long endless night. We feel almost inclined to fall upon Norrington's neck and weep aloud, seeing that it is the approved fashion for romantic murderers, after they have killed sixteen brothers, to conceive a strong affection for the seventeenth. sure the editor that he must take a little more pains with the future numbers of this series, for the impression it has already made is by no means so favourable as he of course desires. MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. TRUSTEES' GALLERY OF SCULPTURE AND DRAWING ACADEMY. Norrington thus commences his story:"Tired of existence, disgusted with the world, a prey to ennuichild of remorse-I, in this my hermitage, will, to while away time, dedicate my hours to the recalling of the past." This is a fine tragic commencement. But Norrington soon tires of it, and drops into a more rational style. His story is of a naughty schoolboy, who becomes ERRONEOUS MANAGEMENT OF THE EDINBURGH afterwards a lively young nobleman-flirts with half-adozen girls-receives as many heart-scratches, but no wounds-travels-returns home to celebrate his coming of age-manages to escape a lady, whom his defunct papa had destined for his bride-and concludes in a tone of gaiety not quite in keeping with his exordium :-" And now, as I have made more than one individual happy, I may even here lay down my pen, and rest awhile. My youth is passed, and I cannot yet intrude on manhood's hallowed precincts; but should all the beaux and belles, that have with many a yawn perused the events of my younger days, view with a favourable eye the adventures of Norrington's earl, all I can promise is, that the puppy' shall again do author, and give you his manhood and old age." We simply advise him to live them first. By the way, authors are contracting a bad habit of addressing epistolary remonstrances to their reviewers. To save the present gentleman the trouble of writing to us that the above is no proper review of his book, we beg to inform him that we do not profess to engage in microscopic dissections. Outlines of History, being Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopædia, Vol. IX. London. Longman, Rees, Orme, and Co. 1830. AN epitome of the history of the world, in one volume must of course resemble more a chronological table than any thing else. The present volume will no doubt be useful as a book of reference, but as we look upon it in no other light, we care not to confess that we have not yet read it, and cannot therefore speak of the merits or faults of its execution. We question the propriety of admitting into the Cabinet Cyclopædia works, which few will take the trouble of perusing consecutively, and which will be valued only on the same principle that we value dictionaries. One of these, to which Dr Lardner has already given his sanction, is an entire failure, and we take this opportunity of retracting some favourable expressions which we rather prematurely applied to it. We allude to the volume which pretends to give an account of the principal towns of Europe, which is nothing better than a hasty and most inaccurate compilation from old Gazetteers. The Cyclopædia, if it wishes to prosper, must be" made of sterner stuff than this." 1830. We believe there are but few even of the citizens of Edinburgh who are aware of the existence of a very fine collection of casts, from the antique, in the building on the Earthen Mound. It is the property, or, more correctly speaking, it is intrusted to the management, of the Board of Trustees for the Encouragement of Manufactures, &c. in Scotland. It contains, among other exquisite remains of ancient art, the Laocoon; the Apollo Belvidere ; the Capitoline, and the Medici Venus; the Venus of Milo, and the Venus Urania; the Fighting and Dying Gladiators, the Germanicus, the two Dioscobuli, Mars resting, &c. &c. In short, it is a collection at once extensive, and selected with admirable judgment and taste. When the Board commenced this gallery, they had no higher object in view than to assemble a few models for the use of a drawing academy, which they had recently established, for the instruction of such mechanics as evinced a taste for the finer branches of their respective professions. By degrees, however, the increasing value of the casts, and the high characters of the masters, who have at different times been appointed by the Trustees, rendered admission to the gallery an object even with young artists; and latterly, although a carver and gilder or upholsterer is occasionally to be found reaping the benefits of the instruction there dispensed, yet the main body of the students have in view the prosecution of the The Juvenile Library, No. II. Historic Anecdotes France. London. Colburn and Bentley. The number of students on the Academy's books is reWe cannot say that we feel quite sure that the Juve-stricted to forty. Applicants are admitted, upon petinile Library is not to turn out a humbug. The first tioning the Board, for the limited period of two years. volume was a compilation principally from the British During that time, they are allowed to draw, in the galand Juvenile Plutarch, and the present is an abridge-lery, under the superintendence of the master, two hours ment from any popular history of France. Nor do we see any thing in the style in which these compilations and abridgements are executed to make them peculiarly attractive. Concerning Charles the Tenth, with a brief notice of whom the present volume concludes, we find the following curious sentence:-" He is spoken of as a man of kindly habits, of amiable disposition, and as less inclined to arbitrary measures than any of his predecessors." (!) This is an unlucky mistake, which will of course be remedied in a second edition. It is not, however, a solitary instance of incorrectness, and we can as (from six to eight), on the evenings of the Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays of every week. At the end of the two years, if their attendance has been regular, and their proficiency such as to induce the Trustees to hope they may rise in the art, they may be readmitted for other two years. This is all very well. The permission to study such splendid works of art as grace the walls of the gallery, and under the direction of the eminent artists now at the head of the Institution, (Allan, and in his absence, Lauder,) is a generous boon to a young artist. But might not more be done? Except during eight hours of every week, these treasures are allowed to lie useless and unseen, under lock and key. None of our artists are allowed to study from them. The public cannot see them except on Saturdays; none even then, but at the price of kicking their heels for hours in the lobby of the assistant secretary, until the great man is at leisure to give them an order, and afterwards submitting to the petty impertinence of a spoiled domestic. It is not long ago since an attempt was made on the part of some of the artists to obtain admission to the gallery. With considerable reluctance their request was granted, but clogged on the part of the Trustees by a restriction of the liberty to a stated hour, and an attempt to impose a fine upon every artist who was absent at the hour allotted to him. There was something exquisitely ludicrous in this. Such restrictions are necessary in a school for boys; but do the Trustees not know that some artists are of as mature an age as themselves, and from the nature of their avocation, better aware of what will further their studies? To pretend to tie down an artist, who has his hours engrossed by the business of his profession, to a schoolboy's regularity, shows an ignorance of the world only to be equalled by that which could believe that men, actuated by an ardent love of their art, would receive an additional stimulus from the fear of losing a sixpence. We have not minced this matter, nor sought to use weighed and guarded words in stating these facts to our readers. We have waited long, in hopes that the gentlemen who took the chief management of this Institution upon them, would have of themselves adopted a more liberal line of conduct. But we have seen them charily, and with reluctance, yield occasionally an inch after repeated and urgent remonstrances, and if the insufficient boon was not accepted with servile adulation, immediately retracting it. Latterly, like spoiled children, who, because they cannot have their own way in every thing, will not consent to do any thing, they have retired within themselves, and refused to listen to further remonstrances. We know of what importance it is to our artists to have access to such a gallery of sculpture as that now in the possession of the Trustees. We know that at Paris, Rome, Dresden, and Florence, such access is at all times freely and cheerfully granted. We are of opinion, moreover, that the admission of the public to an habitual conversance with such works, is requisite to the formation of a just national taste. Lastly, we know that these works are not the property of the Trustees, to be locked up by them at their pleasure. They are purchased with the public money, and held by them in trust for the public use. The doors must be opened, and we call upon the press of Edinburgh, the public in general, and artists in particular, to join with us in insisting that this be done. It is as well on all occasions to have before us a distinct notion of what we want, and on this account we here specify our demands:That the Gallery of Sculpture, at present possessed by the Board of Trustees for behoof of the public, be open at least five days in the week, from nine o'clock A.M. to four o'clock P.M., at which time it has hitherto been inaccessible and useless;-That the public, during that time, have free access to see the casts; -And, that every artist be allowed, upon application, to draw or model from any of the figures. The Trustees will speak of the danger to which the casts may be exposed by promiscuous exhibition; but there are two or more functionaries, as it is, always in attendance at the building on the Mound, and a trifling annual allowance would obtain their services, or, if necessary, those of a person specially attached to the Institution, who might keep watch over the visitors. A very small deduction from the annual-expenditure of the Trustees would enable them to pay such a person; or a trifling sum exacted from every visitor, and from the artists admitted to use the gallery, would defray his salary. Besides, the class of visitors likely to be attracted by such a show know in general enough of the decencies of life to keep their fingers to themselves. We have never heard that the statues in the British Museum have suffered from the free admission of strangers. One day in the week would be sufficient for the cleaning of the gallery; and it might remain closed for a short period every autumn, during which any necessary repairs or new arrangements might be. effected. We repeat, that we trust these suggestions will. speedily be attended to. RECOLLECTIONS OF A PARSONAGE. ABUSES IN THE CHURCH. I SAY, what is the meaning of this? I have been a minister of the church of Scotland these twenty years, and I have never known any abuse so flagrant as the following: In many churches there are no elders!-In some the minister himself collects the offering, and then ascends the pulpit, tapping the precentor on the head, and proceeding with prayer. In others, there is only one elder, who collects the Sabbath offering-makes a jotting at his convenience, and renders an account to the minister after dinner on Sunday. In others, again, there is a legal session, three, four, or ten, who attend seriatim at the plate-see women rebuked-officiate at the sacrament— and are summoned, once in ten years, to the presbytery, to humour some of the clergyman's whims. Now, it is with this last set that I have to do. The former cases are the exceptions, but this forms the rule. When there is no session, there can be no sessional visitations; but when there actually exists the legitimate amount of elders-I say, in the name of Presbytery-why do not these elders do their duty? Is it the whole duty of an elder to collect half-pence, to dine once a-year with the minister, vote in session and presbytery as he bids, and be sent ten times in a century to the Assembly? or is it not rather the duty of an elder to consider himself as the hands or feelers of the minister-to perforate the district to which he belongs to communicate the vivifying influence of his spiritual instruction wherever his personal influence can reach, and to become the angel of consolation to all and every one who stand in need of it? In the times that have been, and of which our records speak with distinctness and delight, there were men called "Elders," whose Sabbath evenings were spent in visiting the sick, in comforting the afflicted for the loss of friends or means, in expostulating with the froward, and in building up the repentant in their new resolutions ; but how are our modern elders occupied? It were almost libellous or invidious to mention. In surveying their gardens and pig-sties,-in encompassing their fields, and ascertaining the ravages of the wheat-fly,-in discussing politics over a bottle of claret with a neighbouring laird, or in adjudicating betwixt master and servant in a law case. I once knew an elder of a very reverend Presbytery in the south of Scotland. He was regularly returned, and as regularly absented himself from the House of Assembly, unless when his vote might serve some "political purpose.' "I met him when I was going to church. He was sitting in his carriage, on a pleasure visit, alongside of a Lord of the Court of Session, and both of them were "playing cards!" By all that is decorous and proper, this was, and is, too much; and yet, I believe, he would have commanded his return, suppose he had maimed his father, and turned his mother's "king's hood into a spleuchan." There is much efficiency in the priesthood of our church, but our elders are rotten. They have ceased to wear their original aspect, and have become too frequently legal instruments to carry into execution the whims of the minister. Let us return to that healthy and vigorous state from which we have degenerated. Let the elders- read the Apostle's description of their indispensable duties, and, mingling with the hopes and the fears of the religious portion of society, let them lead devotion and stimulate zeal; let them moderate what is extravagant, and awaken into activity the sleeping energies of virtue. I have an elder before me of this character, on whom, except in the solitary instance of preaching, the minister could on all occasions rely. He was an elder indeed-his blue bonnet, and duffle coat of the same colour, are still before me. Nor shall I ever forget the prayer which I once heard him pronounce over the deathbed of a repentant sinner. There was that in it which learning cannot give, but which it too frequently takes away. There was the "unction" of the spirit. The spirit not indeed of selfreliance, and confidence of wild dreams and fanatic ecstasies, but of sober trust and humble reliance. T. G. o' this, an' resolv't to profit by it, in his needcessity. So I have caught you at last, neighbour,' said Cabtain MacBrocket, whan the vesshels had come near thegether. Then Jock remindet him o' his gran' boast, an' tell't him what oongentlemany conduc' it would be, to seize upon a vesshel at anchor. Od, sir, the Cabtain's corruption raise at this, an' wi' an awfu' oath he order't Jock, for a lubber, to hoist an' flee. Nae sooner said than done. Aff went the free-tredder, every sail set-and aff and efter her, in three minutes space, gaid M'Brocket's cutYe micht as weel hae sent a snail after a hare. Bang gaed a cutter's gun-but the day was lost. The crew o' the smuggler gied three hearty cheers, an' Divin' Jock cam forret to the stern an' made a boo, wi' his cocket hat aneath his oxter, as a fareweel salutation to Cabtain M'Brocket." ter. SOMETHING IN THE SHAPE OF A NARRATIVE. By Thomas Brydson. THE honest man- (honest is the general prescriptive title of a certain set of persons-just as disconsolate is the particular title of widows-and worthy, of knights and baronets)—the honest man having laid his pack beside him on the grass, and inflicted the rap consequential and preparatory upon the lid of his snuff-box, took therefrom an extra pinch, sneezed three several times, and, without more ado, proceeded with the following narrative—if, indeed, it deserve that dignified appellation. "There is, nae doot, a great deal o' the romantic, as ye ca't, in the character o' thae misguidet loons the smugglers-especially them that frequent the high seas. As for the sma' stell gentry, they hae the blackguardism o' the ithers, withoot the redeemin' qualities. What a difference atween them, for instance, an' Nanty Ewart, whom ye was describin' the noo oot o' Sir Walter Scott's novēlls? He seems to hae been a gentlemany-aneuch creatur whan he thocht proper to be sae, and pits me verra muckle in min', in some respects, o' Divin' Jock, the commander o' the Spit-fire, free tredder, a man weel kent on the north coast, whan I was a callan, herdin' at the Forth-head o' Gallowa. This Jock was a great fawvrite wi' the auld wives o' Reissleton; an' nae wunner; for mony a pickle tea, and mony a row o' tobacco did he distribute amang them, free gratis, as regular as the Spit-fire anchort i' the herbour. Them that saw farer ben than their neeburs, kent wha to thank for this kindness. Not a few o' the kintra lairds were hidlins partners in Jock's traffic, and fand their ain accoont in garrin him stap the mooth o' a bitin' dug, or in ither words, pleasin' the toon fock, to keep doon din ;-ye understaun' me? Reissleton becam' in this way the key o' the distrec' to the free tredder chaps, as Calais was langsyne the key o' France, whenever it pleas't the British to open the door.-Ye're takin yer lauch aff me, sir; but I hae read some i' my day, though I'm only a packman. Aweel, to cut a lang tale short, the Spit-fire had feenisht ane o' her maist successfu' trips, an' was lyin' beekin' i' the sun, an' waitin' for a landin' tide, afore the croodit pier o' Reissleton, whan a skreigh got up that the cutter was in sicht. Sure aneuch she was, and ye wadna hae coontit a penny's worth o' preens till she had Divin' Jock completely at her mercy. Cabtain M'Brocket o' the cutter was a little wee man, of a verra prood an' rather hauchty speerit-uncommon jealous of his courage and cappabilities as a seaman. He had often said that naething wad gie him mair pleesure than a guid breeze an' an open sea, an' the Spit-fire within a mile o' his bowsprit. Sae far had he carriet this boast, as to declare to Bailie Sneddie, as they were crackin' thegither on the plainstanes at the cross, that even were he to seize Divin' Jock's vessel unawares, he would let her try a run for her life, or words to that purpose. Jock had heard tell ORIGINAL POETRY. SPECIMENS OF TRANSLATIONS FROM VARIOUS LANGUAGES. No. I. DIDO FORSAKEN. From the Portuguese of Garzaon. Now glimmering in the purple orient sky, Carthage, her new-born Carthage, nought presents Of the exalted domes, Nocturnal birds sinister omens cry. From the marmoreal tomb, But, shuddering, sees around With frenzy fired, now burns ; And soon her tremulous footsteps near approach The asylum, once so blest, Where of her faithless hero She heard the impassion'd sighs and lulling plaints. |