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ever been more happy in the exertion of his talents, than in the pre CHIT-CHAT FROM ABERDEEN.-Two new periodicals are about 1 sent instances. The bust of Charles Kemble, besides being an ad to be started here, to be published monthly, and sold for sixpence mirable likeness, exhibits great power and spirit, and is full of life. each,--the one, intended for the refreshment of the sober part of the The bust of Miss Kemble, though in a different and more subdued community, is to be entitled the Christian Investigator. Those style, is one of the most striking likenesses we ever remember to gentlemen whose choler has almost got the better of their judgment have seen achieved by this art. They have been finished in an ama- respecting the hackneyed Apocryphal question, will adopt it, it is be zingly short time, and in every way refleet the highest credit on Mr hoped, as the vehicle through which to vent their vituperative viru. Macdonald. In connexion with this subject, we may mention that lence, and not cram our newspapers with the offspring of their fan. Lauder is at present engaged on a portrait of Macdonald, in the tastic brains, as they have been doing for some time back. The costume of a Greek sculptor, which bids fair to do all honour both other publication is to bear the rather radical-like appellation of the to the painter and the sculptor.

Aberdeen Independent, and is to be of most uncompromising liberal Chit-CHAT From London.-The second volume of Moore's Life principles, in proof of which, we suppose, it is advertised to make of Byron will be embellished by a portrait taken by Saunders, when its appearance on the 1st of August, which day unfortunately haphis lordship was only 19 years of age, and which is said to have all pens to be a Sunday. The Aberdeen Observer has waxed sarcastic the beauty, without the care, which the mental old age of 28 or 30 on the seemingly immoral conduct of the proprietors of the Indepen. • brought upon his features. It represents him in a sailor's dress, and dent, but the Christian conductors of the Investigator have also fixed Scotland, the land of his childhood, is the back ground. -An amu on the same day. A person of the name of Warden is to be the edi. sing advertisement appeared the other day in a provincial paper, con tor of the Independent. -The last volume of Lardner's Cabinet taining a pretty fair hit at trial by jury, as illustrated on some recent Cyclopædia is very unpopular here, in consequence of its taking 10 occasions. It is in these words :-" As law cases appear now to be notice of Aberdeen among the “Cities and principal Towns of Scutdecided more by the state of the stomach than of the conscience, a land." medical man proposes to take jurymen into training, so as to accommodate their stomachs to undergo any degree of fasting which may

LINES FOR A YOUNG LADY'S ALBtu. be required. When these jurymen shall be trained, they will be let

By H. G. B. out to hire, at various prices, according to circumstances."-An ex. cellent engraving of Miss Mitford has just been published. She is not beautiful, but there is a great deal of both sweetness and intellect in the expression of her face. It is to be regretted that we have no really good engraved portraits of either Southey, Coleridge, Wilson, Croly, Horace Smith, Charles Lamb, Hazlitt, Barry Cornwall, Allan Cunningham, Alaric Watts, Theodore Hook: and, unless we have met with the originals, we are also left to conjecture the phy. these lines, and yet they contain as much meaning as is generally

It would puzzle the most fastidious critic to point out a fault in siognomies of L. E. L., Mrs Hemans, Joanna Baillie, Miss Edge found in compositions of this kind. worth, &c. This should be remedied. CHIT-CHAT FROM DUMFRIES.-Our Exhibition has closed, and

Theatrical Gossip. The company of the English Opera-house our College is not yet open. The former contained really good pie- occasion Miss Kelly made her first appearance in London this year.

commenced their season at the Adelphi on Thursday last, on which tures from Richardson, Parker, Lauder, Graham, Bonar, Harvey, Scrope, Simpson, Colomb, Dobson, &c. The greatest favourite

-It is said that Taglioni, the dancer, cleared fifteen hundred guineas

by her benefit at the King's Theatre.- Vauxhall has opened under was Lauder's Quentin Durward, which unfortunately remained too short a time with us. Next in order came Graham's Saints and

favourable auspices.-A Miss Turpin has appeared at the Hay

market iu the part of Polly, in the “ Beggar's Opera'; " but she does Roman Ladies. But the pictures which sell best here are land.

not seem to have a voice of much power.-Charles Lee is said to scapes and scenes from domestic life. They are not the worse of being small, and a great deal the better of not being dear. This is be so rigid in his economy at Drury-Lane, that performers, who, only our second Exhibition, and its results have been, on the whole,

under other managements, received L.8 per week, are now offered

L.3. Morton, instead of Reynolds, the dramatist, is to have the promising. The county gentlemen have come liberally forward in

charge of the new pieces at this house.—Sinclair is performing in its support, both in allowing the gratis use of the Assembly Rooms,

Liverpool. -Jones, late of the Theatre-Royal here, is about to open and in the matter of subscriptions, and the taste will spread with time. Indced, Mr Dunbar, who took the principal management,

the Perth Theatre, of which he is the lessee. He takes with him a has had more reason to complain of over-assistance than of any lack

good number of the Edinburgh Company.--Miss Kemble and her of goodwill. So anxious were some of his friends to aid him in

father were to have performed with Alexander, in Glasgow, on Monfilling up the rooms, that showers of old lumbering family portraits, day last, but in consequence of the King's death, they did not appear coloured prints, and the paintings of lady amateurs, fell as thick

till Thursday. Their engagement was limited to three nights, and around the wondering artist, as ever the immortal and victorious

terminates this evening, after which they proceed to Dublin,-We shower of gold round Danae. Even Bailie M'George, as soon as he

observe that a corps de ballet is announced to appear speedily at the had ascertained that Dunbar was not a Kangaroo, and that Exbibi

Caledonian Theatre, among whom are Madame Vedi and M. Albert. tion did not mean a show of wild beasts, favoured them with his

Saturday's PERFORMANCE, JUNE 26. presence and advice. The Bailie-a learned natural historian, as you will infer from his doubts-is part-proprietor and occasional

The Grecian Daughter, & Scape Goat. editor of our Journal. The able criticisms on the paintings in that

(Theatre closed.) periodical are understood to have proceeded from his pen. They were composed, as Adam Rankine-the Cato and the Censor of our town-drily remarked, “in a very peculiar style of eloquence."

TO OUR CORRESPONDENTS. They certainly frightened M‘Diarmid from the field, who has scarcely hazarded a remark on this year's Exhibition in the Courier.-I We are reluctantly obliged to postpone the excellent article on expected to have been able to tell you something about our Col the “ Philosophy of Law” till our next. lege, but as I have hopes of official information, you must wait a

We are afraid we shall not be able to give a place to " A Night on week or two. There is not much stirring in the literary world here.

Benlomond." The sketch is well written, but is scarcely sufficiently Mrs G. Richardson is in daily expectation of being delivered of a new powerful or original. The essay on "Puppies" must stand over for volume. Bailie M‘Minn's long expected volume of occasional ora- nearly the same reason ; and we regret that we cannot think the tions has not yet appeared. The Bailie is a man of no common same author's recent poetical communication one of his happiest efrhetorical powers. He once told me in confidence, that "the laddie forts." The Exile of Eskdalemuir" seems to be a plain unvarnished Peel owed a' his succes to twa or three hints frae him on his mode of tale, told with frankness and simplicity. delivery, when he was visiting auld Sir Robert aincemafore he was We had every desire to give a place to “ The Poet's Feelings," by Sir Robert."-Palmer's Gleaner is going on, although, I fear, scarce “ W. M." of Glasgow, but on reperusal, we do not think the poem ly with the success so neat a book and clever a selection deserves. as a whole quite worthy of him.-We have received the communie John M.Diarmid is as full of wonderful stories as ever. The world cation from “J W." of Berwick-upon-Tweed. We are afraid that must not lose the instruction to be derived from his life. I have a his verses, with some others, must lie over till our next “ Editor in short memoir of him by me, which I propose sending to you some his Slippers." When he sends us the manuscript volume of which of these days. The new editor of the Journal strives hard to emu hc speaks, wefshall be glad to give him our opinion of it. The verses late John. He reminds one strongly of the clumsy German Baron by “ J. P. B." of Aberdeen, shall have a place. We cannot greatly jumping over all the stools and chairs in his room, "pour se faire encourage “Mejas Ceronam" to proceed with the manufacture of vif."-So much for the present. If you keep my secret, you may verses.- The ballad on the death of M‘Kay shall probably have a hear more anon; but if you let my name slip out, no more dare I place in our next.-" The Advent of Despair," by “ a Carmalite," venture into Sinclair's back shop, -no more be allowed to beat Adam and the “ Lines found written on an Elm-tree in Hawthornden," will Rankine at draughts.--no more gratify my palate with M‘Diarmid's not suit us.-The lines on the death of the King, beginning, superlative port; -the Commercial Reading Room will be closed

" While straying on Britannia's shore, against my approach, -and you may look in yain for more chit-chat

I heard a mighty lion roar," from Dumfries,

will not do.

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researches, Sir Thomas has not confined himself exclusively to incidents connected with the floods, but having

had occasion to traverse many wild and rarely-frequentAr Account of the Great Floods of August, 1829, in the ed parts of the country, he has lost no opportunity of

Province of Moray, and adjoining Districts. By Sir picking up curious traditionary reminiscences, which Thomas Dick Lauder, Bart. of Fountainhall, F.R.S E. give variety to his volume, and serve to throw light upon Edinburgh. Adam Black. 1830. 8vo. Pp. 431. the earlier habits and manners of the people. With these,

however, we cannot at present interfere, being desirons When tbis large and handsomely-embellished volume to present our readers with some of the very graphic was first put into our hands, we were afraid that it was and picturesque details of the effects of the floods. We out of proportion to the importance of the subject of which commence with an incident which occurred on the Nairn : it treats. Not having actually witnessed any of the floods in Morayshire in August last, we were not quite prepa

JAMES MACINTOSH'S ADVENTURES. red to understand how the mere circumstance of a few who, to add to his other misfortunes, is deat, a circumstance

“ I visited this poor man, now above 73 years of age, and Highland rivers baving overflowed their banks, should that rendered our conversation loud and long. He took edicit an octavo of 430 pages, embellished with maps and me into his house, a few yards from the foot of the bank I plans, and nearly a hundred engraved drawings. A have mentioned. It still exhibited wreck and desolation. perasal of the work, however, has put the matter in | The very smell of it was like that of a house newly disina different light; and though we still think that the wor- terred, after being buried for a century. The old man, thy Baronet is rather diffuse in some of his descriptions, drenched and woe-begone, Jooked down from the bank on and that though his narrative had been more condensed, his house, and all that it contained, horne away by the bi!

the utter ruin of his farm, with the expectation of seeing it would not have been less interesting, we are, at the lows. For two days were he and his family kept out of same time, glad that the book has been written, and are

their dwelling. At length circumstances permitted thein of opinion that its execution, on the whole, reflects no in to return to it, and thanking God for their personal safety, considerable credit or its author. We now feel as if we they set themselves to put matters about the premises in orrler. had indeed been present either on the Spey or the Find " They were beginning to recover from their panic, when horn, and that, so far from the floods having been of tri- the yet more terrible flood of the evening of the 27th visitrd fling consequence, even without taking into consideration their habitation, and filled the rooms to the height of five the immense loss of property which they occasioned, they feet, as I ascertained from the stain it had left on the plas

Being more quickly alarmed on this occasion, their exhibited as sublime instances of the power and the ma- flight was more precipitate. • But,' said Mr Macintosh jesty of the element of water, as can well be conceived, to me, as we stood on his damp and disconsolate floor, ' I and also placed human nature in so many new and strange minded me o' something I wad hae done ill wanting, sitnations, that an historian capable of fairly narrating and so I wade back again, and crap in at that window its feelings and conduct when under their influence, was there, and after grapin' aboot, and gettin' haud o' what I imperatively called for. Sir Thomas seems to have been

was seekin', I was gawin' to creep out again, when I beadmirably suited for the task. Himself a proprietor in thought me o' my specks.'- Speeks!' roared I into his car,

• how could you risk your life for a pair of spectacles? the flooded district, he thoroughly understood both the Trouth, sir,' replied he seriously, I couldna bae read my people and the country, and had facilities for collecting Bible without them, and, mair nor that, they were silver information of all sorts, which almost no one else could specks, and they were specks sent me hame in a praisent frae have possessed. We are not even sure but that the very my son, the yepiscopal minister in Canada. This was unminuteness of the details in which he occasionally indul- answerable, and I was glad to learn that the result of his ges, adds to their value as a whole. He presents us not

boldness was the salvation of his specks,' as well as the only with a full account, in his own words, of the rava

purse or pocket-book, into which I presume to interpret

what be called the thing he wad bae done ill wantin',' ges the flood committed, but by frequently introducing Not a particle of corn was spared to him, and even the the ipsissima verba of the people themselves, who were straw was so completely ruined, that he was compelled to exposed to the devastations, he makes us acqnainted with sell off his live stock, and to give up his farin. As he told all the emotions they experienced, and thus extends our me himself, he was three days on the hill looking over knowledge of character and of human nature. To many this disagreeable affair;' yet I heard no murmur of comof those “ moving accidents by flood and field," of which plaint escape him; and all his talk was of thanks to God Sir Thomas may say with Æneas, magna pars fui

, there for the preservation of himself and family.” is attached all the interest of the most highly-wrought The floods on the Findhorn were on a still larger romance ; and we are confident that many a future wri- scale, not only carrying away isolated cottages, and breakter of fiction will avail himself of the bints which they ing down bridges, but overflowing whole villages. The afford, to give additional attraction to his story.

situation into which one family was thrown will serve as Our anthor, in tracing the progress of the floods, com a specimen of the disasters which overtook hundreds : menees with the river Nairn, following its course from

OLD KÉRR'S ADVENTURES. the mountains to the sen ; and so on with the Findhorn,

« Old Kerr's account interested them all. Seeing their the Divie, the Lossie, the Spey, the Deveron, the Don, retreat cut off by the flood, they attempted to wade ashore. and the Dee, always branehing off, when any important But the nearer the shore, the deeper and more powerful tributary occurs, to discuss it also. 'In the course of his was the current. The moment was awful. The torrent

increased on all sides, and night, dark night, was spread wuz the feght and struggle she had for life! Willin' wuz over them. The stream began to be too deep for the niece, she to save that! An' her haun', your honor! hoo she a girl of twelve years of age ; she lost heart, and began to fought wi' that haun'! It wad hae drawn tears o' pity frae sink. At this alarming crisis, Kerr seems to have been a heathen! And then I had a dreadfu' spekalation for my gifted with preternatural strength and presence of mind. ain life, an' I canna tell the conseederable moments I was He seized the trembling girl, and placed her on his back, doon in the water, an' my aunty abeen me. The strength and, shoulder to shoulder with his wife, he providentially, o' the waters at last brak the bed, an' I got to the tap o't; but with the greatest difficulty, regained his own house. an'a dreadfu' jaw knockit my head to the bed-post; an' I Between eight and nine o'clock, he groped his way, and wuz for some time out of my senses. It was surely the led his wife and niece up into the garret. He could not death-grip I had o' the post ; an surely, it wuz the Lord tell how long they remained there, but supposed it might that waukened me, for the dead sleep bad cum'd on me, an' be till about two o'clock next morning, when the roof be- I wud bae faun, and been droon't in the waters! After I gan to fail. To avoid being crushed to death, he worked cam' to mysell a wee, I feelt something at my fit, an' I says. anxiously till he drove down the partition separating them to mysell, * This is my aunty's head that the waters bae from the adjoining house. Fortunately for him it was com torn 'aff! I feelt wi' my haun', an' tuk haud o’t wi' fear posed of wood and clay, and a partial failure he found in it, an' trumlin'; an' thankfu' was I fan I faund it to be naevery much facilitated his operations. Having made their thing but a droon't hen! Aweel, I climbed up, an' got a way good, they remained there till about eight o'clock in the baud o' the couple, an' my fit on the tap o' the wa', an sus. morning, when the strength of the water without became teened mysell that way frae maybe aboot half past ten that so great, that it bent inwards the bolt of the lock of the night till three next afternoon. I suppose it wuz 12 o'clock house-door, till it bad no greater hold of the staple than the o' the day before I saw my aunty again, after we had gane eighth-part of an inch. A ware that if the door should give doon thegitber, an' the dreadfu' ocean aboot huz, just like a way, the back wall of the house would be swept down by roarin' sea. She was left on a bank o' sand, leanin' on her the rush of the water inwards, and that they would be side, and her mouth was fou o' san'. Fouk wondered I crushed to atoms, be rummaged the garret, and fortunately didna dee o'cauld an' hunger ; but baith cauld an' hunger found a bit of board and a few nails, and, standing on the were unkent to me, wi' the terrification I wuz in wi' the stair, he placed one end of it against the door, and the other roarin' o' the waters aboot me, Lord save me !"* on the hatch forming the entrance to the garret, and so nailed it firmly down. At last the roof of the second house

A scene which occurred on the river Spey, though less began to crack over their heads, and Kerr forced a way for horrible, is not less forcibly told : himself and his companions through the thatch, as has been already told.

THE ADVENTURES OF JOHN GEDDES. “ • We syne crawled out owre the tap o' the neist house,' “ Alarmed by the rapid growth of the river, the people i said Kerr, in telling his own story, and on our way Jean's of the other cottages crowded, as night fell, towards that leg gaed throu' an awfu'gap atween the lumm and the roof. belonging to Geddes, firmly believing that they should be I then thocht to try Meggy Ross's winda in the front, but, perfectly safe in it. There nine men and women, and four Jean wadna let me, for fear I might fa' i' the water, an' children, sat shivering over the fire in their wet garments. syne she thought a' wad be lost. I then gaed to the back, and The fagots were heaped high, and, as John Geddes himself tried to get into Hugh's house, but I wasna fit to break the says, “We soon begud to grow braw an' hearty, when John kebbers o't

, an' it was as weel, for a pairt o' it soon fell. I Forsyth an' me gaed oot to big up the stable-door, an' saw then teuk for the grun', and drappit down on a wee bit the water growin' terrible! Ye're a' very merry, sirs, spot, where I fand an auld cupple-log which Hugh had said I, as I gaed in, ' but ye'll no be lang sae. Ye had betbought for fire. I heezed it up. There was a hunnin' pin ter stir your stumps, and put things oot o' the gate, an' look in't, and that was like a stap, and sae I got them doon, till your ain safety! The words were hardly oot o' my praised be the Lord!' Here the poor man gave a heartfelt mouth, whan in cam'the river on us. We lifted the mealsigh of gratitude.

kist, pat the wife an' her bit weene and the bairnies into *** I then brak Hugh's back winda, and we got in. Hugh's the bed, an' the rest got upon kists an' tables. We pat the twa kists war soomin' through the room like ony thing. fire on the girdle, hung the girdle on the crook in the lum, There was a cauf bed and sonie claes there, and that keepit an’ stuck the lamp upon the wa'. But the water soon huz some warm; and as soon as it was some clear, Jean drooned oot the fire, and rose into the bed. I then pat twa wadna bide in, for fear o' the house fa'in'. Whan we saw chairs i' the bed, and the wife sat upon them wi' the little the boat first, we thocht it was for huz; but what was our anes in her lap; but the water soon got up to them there. thocht, when we saw it whurlin'awa doon the water again!' Syne I cut the ceilin’aboon the bed, pat a door atween the

“ Did you pray at all?' demanded Mr Suter. «Deed, twa chair backs, laid a caff-bed on the door, set the wife an' sir, I dinna ken fat we did, but fan we heard the hooses little anes aboon that, and then gaed up mysell to the coufa'in' aboout huz, and it sae dark, troth we couldna think ple-baulk, an' held the door firm wi' my feet, an' had an axe o'ony thing but death.'

ready to cut the hoose-roof, in case o' need. The rest o' the

fouk stowed themsells awa frae the water as weel as they The following story is of a still more tragical kind. could, on chairs, on the tap o' tables, an' kists. We were Isabella Morrison was an elderly person, who lived with lang in this way, an' I cheered them the best I could, an' her aunt, Widow Speediman, an old bed-rid woman, in telt them the hours every noo an' than by my watch, that a hamlet, called the Broom of Moy. Isabella gives an I hung upon the couple-leg i' my sight. But the water account of the manner in which she and her aunt spent the lamp, an”left us a' i' the dark thegither. There was a

raise an' raise, till aboot twa o'clock, whan it drooned oot the night of the 4th of August, in these words :

groan, an'a cry that there was naething for us noo but w


• Trust in Providence,' says I till them; 'trust in

Providence, neebours. But dinna think that ye can be saved, “ It was about eight o'clock, an' my aunty in her bed, fan unless ye mak' use o' the raison an' the faculties that God I says till her, · Aunty, the waters are cumin' aboot 's;' has bestowed on ye. I'll cut the roof the moment I see that an' I had hardly spoken, fan they wur at my back. “Gang naething else will do.' But, in trouth, it was an awsome to my kist,' says she to me, and tak' oot some things that night, wbat wi' the roar and ragiu' o' the water, the howlare to be pit aboot me fan I'm dead.'. I had hardly tukken in o'the wind, an' the blatterin' o' the rain without, an oot the claes, fan the kist was floated bodalie through the the cries and prayers o' the terrified fouk, an' the greetin'o' hoos. • Gie me a baud o' your hand, Bell,' says my aunty, the bairns within, an'a' thing dark; an' me, as a body might * an” I'll try and help you into the bed.'— Ye're nae fit to say, bingin' atween the twa warlds, ilka moment expectin help me,' says I; . I'll tak'a haud o' the stoop, o' the bed.' the hoos to gie way bodily; an' the very tables an chairs And sae I got in. I think we war strugglin'i' the bed for the fouk war standin' on sbakin' an' foatin' aneath them. twa hours; and the water floatit up the cauf-bed, and she Auld Jean Stronach, fourscore years of age, sat the haill lyin' on't.' Syne I tried to keep her up, an' I took a haud night, amid a' the jostling, wi'a clockin' hen and a wheen o her shift, to try to keep her life in. But the waters war chuckens in her apron. Some ane said till her, that she aye growin'. At last I got her up wi' ae haun' to my might hae ither things in her mind than a hen an chuckens, breast, and held a haud o' the post oʻthe bed wi' the ither. when she was on the brink of yeternity.

• Poor things' An' there wuz ae jaw o' the water that cam' up to my breast, an'anither jaw cam' and fuppit my aunty oot o' my airms. 'Oh! Bell, I'm gane!' says she; and the waters

* This poor woman has since become a perfect cripple from tbewjust chokit her. It wuz a dreadfu' sight to see her! That matism.

quo' Jean, 'I couldna think o' lettin' them be drooned.' one of her daughters bad quitted the bridge only a few miA weel! when we war a' in the height o despondency, nutes before. She was sitting by the fire when she heard Maggy Christie heard tongues thereoot, an', wi' very joy, the terrible crash. • Oh, my son ! my son !' exclaimed she, she jumpit doon trae the kist she was stanin' on ; but, I starting up; he's gone! he's gone! iny son! my son! I trow, she got sie a gliff o' the water, that she gied a roar, shall never see him again! And, rushing out, she stared an' lap upon the hearth, gruppit at the cruik to save hersell, with a frenzied air on the frightful chasm, wildly repeating an' wi' that she clinbed up the lumm, and pat her head oot the same exclamations. Some of those about her would at the tap, wi' her face as black as a suttyman's. Oh! have persuaded her that her son was on the other side of the Jamie Mill, Jamie Mill,' cried she, 'ye're the blythest sight | river, but the awful truth was too apparent to permit so that ever I saw !'— Keep us a', is that you, Maggy?' quo' well-meant a fraud to take effect. Jamie Mill; ' weel, I've seen blyther sights than you are “I saw them running and waving their bats,' said Sive. at this precious moment; but, black though you be, I maun wright, when narrating the circumstances ; ' but before I hae ye oot o' that.' An' sae he crap up the roof, an' pu’ed could guess what they ineant, the parapet wall folded round her oot o' the lumm into the boat. When they cam'round before me, and parted from the roadway, which then seemed to the door, the hoos was sae deep wi’ water, that there was whole; but ere I had time to cry out, it was falling in a barely space to thrust our heads atween the stream an' the thousand pieces, cracking endlong and across from the door-lintel, so that I was forced to dip the bit bairnies i' the centre. I sprang sideways past Anderson and Cuthbert, water afore I could get them oot. That did gang to my and leaped from fragment to fragment of the falling roadvery heart! Poor Jean Stronach lost five o' her chuckens, way, as if I had been flying. When I reached the rock, I as they were draggin' her oot through the water into the was blind for a moment; and when I recovered and looked boat; an' we war a' sae benumbed wi' cauld an’ weet, that, round, Anderson and Cuthbert were gone. In my confu. I'm sure, she and the bairnies wad hae died had we been sion, I had not at first seen Cuthbert, who now appeared, muckle langer there.' The boat was so full, that, to pre- crossing the road. I congratulated him on bis escupe, and vent its sinking, some of the men were compelled to creep said he, "I made a jump to get past, but the shake jostled

• When the brig begud to fa',' on the house-top, and to wait there till it could return." We can

can afford space for only one other extract, which me ower to the tither parapet ; a stane struck me, and the is of a different and grander description. Sir Thomas my hands at the gravel. Luckily for him, it was nearly

road gaed awa beneath my feet. I then made a claught wi' warrates the incident as usual, graphically and well : as beard as a rock, though he did leave the mark of bis firiTHE FALL OF THE BRIDGE OF ROCHABERS.

gers in it. When I made the loup,' continued Cuthbert, "The Bridge of Fochabers consisted of four arches, two poor Anderson made a claught at the tail o'my coat. He of 95 feet, and two of 75 feet span each, making a total wa

missed it, and fell on his back. The parapet wall tumbled ter-way of 340 feet. The view from it on the morning of doon about him, an' I never saw him again. The poor the 4th presented one vast undulating expanse of dark youth's body was found in the evening, about a quarter of brown water, from the foot of the hill Benagen on the one

a mile below, lying on his back, his great-coat entangled haud, to the sea on the other, about ten miles in length, and among some brushwood, and his hands held up, as if to save

himself. in many places more than two miles broad. The Hoating wrecks of nature, and of human industry and comfort, were when the bridge fell, was loud and agonizing.. People ran

“ The shriek that spread along both banks of the river strewed over its surface, which was only varied by the ap- in all directions, clamorously enquiring for friends and repearance of the tufted tops of submerged trees, or by the latives. Signals and shouts were exchanged from either roofs of houses, to which, in more than one instance, the bank, to tell of the safety of individuals, and many were the miserable inhabitants were seen clinging, whilst boats were plying about for their relief. And still the elements raved joyous recognitions that took place. The Duke rode in with unabated fury, so that not a bird could dare to wing and Mr Grant on the opposite bank, he waved his bat, and

great anxiety to the bridge; but on seeing Lord Saltoun the air. * By eight o'clock, the flood was seventeen feet upon the gave them a hearty cheer. During the afternoon, the peobridge; but still its giant limbs magnificently

bestrode the ple crowded to the spot from all quarters, and many could Toaring stream, which, disparted by the opposing piers; until they beheld its ruins with their ain een.'”

not be persuaded that the · Brig o' Spey' had actually fallen, cosed around them in perfect vortices, forming a high curved ciest from one bank to the other. The Duke of Gordon, There is a concluding chapter written with much who was on the bridge several times during the morning, sound sense and good feeling, in which a general review had reined up his horse to the parapet, pointed out to bis is taken of the effects of all these devastations, and in the party the cauldrons that boiled about the pillars, and ridden midst of the distress which they have occasioned, a moaway,-Lord Saltoun, and Mr Macdowal Grant, younger ral lesson is inculcated of high import. On the whole, of Arndilly, had just crossed on foot,—the crowds of people we have no hesitation in characterising the work before who had been looking over the parapets at the wreck, carcasses of dead animals, and other bodies which were hurried us as one containing much curious and valuable infor. through, had all run off to the south end, to see the forester / mation, and likely to remain for centuries the standard and his men drive piles for the protection of the mound of authority upon all matters connected with floods in this approach, when Mr Gordon Macewen, a teacher of Focha- country. mi bers, and several others, were on their way back from the ja tell-house, on the red sandstone rock at the north end. It # was about twenty minutes past twelve o'clock; suddenly a crack, no wider than the cut of a sword, opened

across the Conversations on Religion, with Lord Byron and others : roadway, immediately over the second arch from the toll held in Cephalonia, a short time previous to his Lordship's house , about three yards before them, and backwards, paral Death. By the late James Kennedy, M.D.

One vobel with the parapet. "Good God!' cried Mr Macewen,

lume, 8vo. London. John Murray. 1830. Pp. 461. the bridge is falling; run for your lives!' With one cry

alarm, he and his companions sprang forward in the di. We entertain all possible respect for the precept, “ de rection of Fochabers. The crack yawned wide ere Mr mortuis nil nisi bonum ;" only we do not think that any Russell, one of their number, could step across it.


man is entitled to its protection, when, like the late James laped from the falling ruins, and alighted on that part Kennedy, he carefully prepares a large work for publica, which was yet firm, with one foot hanging behind him in vacancy. Down went the whole mass of the two arches tion, and then, just in order to muzzle the critics, and pent the left bank, falling with the loose, shattered, and out of sheer malice to them, dies before it is printed. We proud-like appearance of an avalanche into the foaming 'surge think, moreover, that, independent of this circumstance, below. For the fraction of a moment the furious stream we have a good plea in law for treating the Doctor's work

was driven backwards with impetuous recoil, baring its as if it were the product of a living author and we will eandel to the very bottom, and again rushing onwards, its be judged by the Dean of Faculty, or by Lord Gillies thundering roar proclaimed its victory, and not a vestige of himself, that model of a painstaking judge. Husband and the fallen fraginents was to be seen.

* At the time the alarm was given, William Sivewright, wife are one—such a unity in the moral, as the Siamese maon; John Cuthbert, slater; and John Anderson, a lame youths in the physical, world. Now, putting the case young man, only son of Widow Anderson, the toll-keeper, that these interesting foreigners had perpetrated a barwere beaning over the parapet wall. Mrs Anderson and glary, and that one of them died before they could be ap

prehended,—would it be any sufficient reason why the different ranks of society; of the causes which have hithersurvivor should not be arraigned at the Old Bailey, that to retarded, and the means which may in future promote, his umbilically-attached brother had to be trundled thither its progress. Now the first question that occurs is, what in a wheelbarrow alongside of him, like a lump of car has Lord Byron done to be pilioried in this manner berion ? Assuredly no. Mr Justice Best would in all pro-tween the second and the fourth head of discourse ? Or, bability tell him—and tell him truly—that he might es- supposing that the Doctor was entitled to dissect him in terteem himself happy that he had a natural make-weight rorem, and to take his back-bone, as some wag proposed to break his neck the sooner. Now this case is entirely of old Morton of Milnwood, to make a bridge from the in point. A husband and wife—who have been esta one section to the other, would any man of correct feel. blished to be exactly pari passu with the Siamese twins ings take advantage for this purpose of openings and weak-meditate and carry into execution a dirty and catch- nesses which he had spied out, in the confident intercourse penny publication. The husband dies when the job is of private life ? Indeed, Kennedy seems himself to have just all but completed, and his better half finishes it off. had some misgivings on the subject; and he admits, in a Shall she not be arraigned at the bar of public opinion ? letter to a friend, printed at the end of the volume now And shall not the corpus delicti, and the merits of the dear before us, that he was mainly determined to publihs, from deceased, who had a finger in the pie, be thoroughly sift- the circumstance of reports having gone abroad respecting ed ? The point is clear as the sun at noonday. We move his conferences with Lord Byron, in which he did not cut for judgment.

exactly the figure he wished. Well, at the Doctor's death, We have called the “ Conversations on Religion” a his relict found only that part of the work which related dirty publication ; and we do so on the ground that the to Lord Byron ready for the press ; and this was exactly same designation has already been most justly awarded to the portion best fitted for the market; so published it all its noble compeers—the books of Gamba, Parry, Bla- must be. It contained, indeed, besides her husband's four quiere, Dallas, Beloe, Medwyn, Hunt, and their innu- couversations with Lord Byron, a great many small anecmerable anonymous fellow-criminals. They are one and dotes, collected from all quarters, which had no referall of them guilty of prostituting their pens to the grati-ence to the subject of religion. But even this was not, fication of an idle and impertinent curiosity. They retail, enough ; for the lady, in her zeal to complete the charm, for the gratification of the great and small vulgar, anec has thrown into her cauldron letters from Lord Byron dotes, which the said vulgar have no right to know, and about shoeing horses—from Colonel Stanhope about Lanwhich every person, with the feelings of a gentleman, casterian schools—from Dr Meyer about communications would have felt himself bound to conceal. Stray jokes, to a Greek newspaper; and, though last not least, not an (bad as they generally are,) the free ebullitions of the so account of her own school, for the education of Greek fecial board, exclamations prompted by sickness, bodily or males, or of its success, but of the compliments paid to mental—all these are foisted in without any connexion her on account of it. The lady's friends got alarmed. among themselves, or any reference to the general habits One of them wrote her a letter, (printed the last in her ands tate of health of the individual, that could make them volume,) praying her in the most soothing terms to desist useful, as illustrative of Lord Byron's character. If we from her nefarious purpose. She received it (the late Doctor were to single out the late Dr Kennedy, or his disconso-admired Shakspeare) “ere yet these shoes were old,” in late helpmate, and tell all the little details of their do- which,“ with most wicked speed," she carried the "sheets" mestic menage, the curtain lectures the gentleman had to to her publisher; but the cry was still of Mr Moore's undergo, the lady's despair when a candle-end was wast- second volume_“ It comes !" There was no time to be ed, or the Doctor (before his conversion) chanced to visit a lost, so out starts her book; and thus we bid it welcome. pretty patient after her health was restored_God help Since the book, however, is here, and what is done canus, what a hubbaboo would be raised ! “ Calunnies"- not be undone, we may as well enquire into its merits. “ Fiendlike intrusion upon domestic privacy"—these are It is no true wisdom that would reject a pearl because of sugar-sops to the delicate rebukes we should have to en its being found in an unsavoury local. But, on the precounter. And yet we would just be doing to them what sent occasion, a short preliminary disquisition will matethey have done to one worth ten times themselves, and rially alleviate the difficulties of our task of criticism. all their generations; and doing it too with much less We forget the name of the reverend divine, who, on bechance of annoying them, for who the devil would care ing petulantly told by some fanatic of his day, that “ God to read about them ? We hold that every man, high or had no need of human learning," calmly replied, that “ he low, has a right to pass his private hours free from the had still less need of human ignorance." The class is not espionage of panders to a vulgar curiosity, and a man is yet by any méans extinct to which this monition was not to be put under the ban of society, and denied this applicable ; on the contrary, its numbers have, of late right, because he is one of those gifted beings whose works years, materially increased. These persons seem to be of can instruct or delight the nations.

opinion that religion is of no avail, so long as it is not puWe have called the “ Conversations on Religion” a rified from the smallest admixture of talent. Speak to catchpenny publication. Had Dr Kennedy lived to them of Taylor, Barrow, Tillotson, they turn up their complete it, and had he published it under its present de- noses, and refer you to the edifying lucubrations of “ Bos. signation, the work would have most eminently deserved ton's Fourfold State," and the savoury pages of the Tract this title ; for in that case Lord Byron's conversations Society's publications. They have the text, out of the would have constituted but a small portion of his intend-mouths of babes and sucklings" continually in their ed book, and bis lordship's name would have been hung months; forgetful that our divine Saviour only meant to out on the title-page, to lead the unwary to purchase. direct our attention to the lessons which a well regulated As it is, it stands upon a grade of the catchpenny mind might draw from the naïve remarks of the least inscale not much lower. Mrs Kennedy found among ber structeil- from the stammerings of an unperverted, though husband's papers the sketch of a work, with an outline half-awakened consciousness. We do not deny that true of which we here present our readers. The work was religion can diffuse its benign influence through the breasts to consist of four parts : In the first, he was to give a of the most illiterate. We merely say that all things else series of conversations, held with some friends in the good faith, conviction, and earnest zeal— being equal, a island of Cephalonia, on the subject of religion; in the man of native genius and learning is a preferable guide to second, a condensed view of the external and internal evi- a naturally coarse and uneducated mind--that a Hoadley dences of Christianity; in the third, an account of his is likely to prove a more trustworthy instructor than a conversations with Lord Byron on religious topics; and Whitfield. The time has not long passed when the fear, in the fourth, an examination of the extent to which real of misconstruction might have made us hesitate to avow Christian principles appear to pervade and influence the these opinions. In the revival of religious ardour which

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