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the enlarging of the upper gallery. Suffice it to say, that the alterations, all of which were made not from choice, but from necessity, are executed with plain good taste, and that the general appearance of the theatre, though not very showy or rich, is neat and comfortable, As to the reduction of the prices, we are inclined to think the system will work well. The upper boxes are now a good deal frequented; and the pit and gallery are com monly full.

tifying them excited in me; and I learned by experience, the colours of the roof,—the removal of the lower, and that it was better to dispense with superfluous things, than to be unable to remain in the tranquil enjoyment of any pleasure. The inhabitants of this city were polite, gentle, and obliging. I observed that they never spoke amongst themselves; they read in each other's eyes all that they thought, just as one reads a book; and when they wished to hide their thoughts, they had only to shut their eyes. They carried me to a hall, where there was a concert of perfumes; for they unite perfumes, as we do sounds. A certain assemblage of perfumes, some powerful, others sweet, form a harmony which pleases the sense of smelling, as our concerts charm the ear, by sounds sometimes loud, and sometimes soft.

In this country the women govern the men: they decide lawsuits, they teach the sciences, and go to the wars. The men paint themselves; they remain at the toilette from morning till night; they spin, they sew, they work embroidery, and they dread being beaten by their wives when they have not obeyed them. They say, that formerly matters were conducted in a different manner, but the men, served by the wishes, became so idle and ignorant, that the women were ashamed to allow themselves to be governed by them. They assembled to repair the evils of the republic; they established schools, to which the most talented persons of their sex resorted; they disarmed their husbands, who asked no better than never to come to blows; they released them from deciding on lawsuits, watched over the public order, established laws, and caused them to be observed, and saved the country, of which the supineness and levity of the men would certainly have occasioned the total ruin.

Afflicted by this spectacle, and fatigued with so many fêtes and amusements, I concluded that the pleasures of the senses, however varied, cannot give happiness. I left these regions, in appearance so delicious, and returning home, found in a temperate life, in moderate labour, in pure morals, and in the practice of virtue, that happiness and health which I failed to obtain when all appetites and wishes were at my own control.

THE EDINBURGH DRAMA. "LET sleeping dogs lie," is a good old proverb, but it seems not to be considered as applicable to our case. After a short nap of a few months, we are once more recalled to the world at the very commencement of the winter season, and are expected to watch as of yore over all the interests of that rather queer-looking building which stands at the north-east end of the North Bridge. It is hard that we cannot be allowed to remain quiet when we are quiet; but that we should be stirred up with the long pole of editorial anxiety and public curiosity, and forced, in spite of ourselves, to snap, and snarl, and growl, and show our teeth, instead of snoring down into the vale of years unenvied and unhated. But such is the invariable fate of genius;-mankind are unwilling that it should not be exerted for their sakes, and the moment that it is so, every puny whipster affects to sneer, and to curl up his contemptible epitome of a tail, in token of anger at the majestic animal who moves on unregardingly. Often have we wished that we knew nothing of dramatic matters whatever, for we are aware that we have made ourselves enemies for life by a few short sentences; and at the best, we are respected, but not liked-feared, but not loved. It is our destiny, however; and as the poor player struts his hour upon the stage, so must we strut out the time allotted to us for theatrical criticism, and then go down into the grave, and lie side by side perhaps with a candle-snuffer or a call-boy.

Well, here we are in the interior of the house again. It is needless to say that it is well fitted up, and "all that sort of thing." We have been sickened to death with newspaper paragraphs about the levelling of the pit, and the deepening of the stage,--the facings of the boxes, and

In reference, however, to what has been changed and what has not been changed, whilst we approve generally, there are four things which we do not approve. 1st. The gas lamps in front of the boxes are the same as formerly, and are not in good taste. If gas is an infinitely superior light to that of a candle, why introduce it under the shape and symbol of the latter? The jet of gas in the lamps alluded to is made to issue as if from a tallow, or perhaps a wax. candle, and in each lamp there is only one candle. This looks poor; there is plenty of light, but the whole of it seems to come from a dozen or eighteen candles, which is inconsistent and awkward. 2d. The new drop-scene is full of faults. The piece of sculpture introduced in the centre would of itself spoil it, being totally out of keeping with the rest of the painting; but besides, the New High School is terribly crowded, and the Castle Hill and Rock are not very like what they are in reality. It is a showy painting, but does not possess those higher merits which will bear examination. 3d. The new scenery, so far as has yet appeared, is of a limited and rather inferior description. We only recollect four new scenes, and two of these are but coarsely executed. The same scene occurs far too often during the night, and is occasionally brought on to represent what it does not represent at all. Does this not look a little like that parsimony to which the manager pleaded not guilty” in his introductory address? Cave, Gulielmus! 4th. With one or two trifling exceptions, we remark no difference in what are called "the properties." Chairs, and tables, and sofas, and dishes, of a very shabby description, are still brought upon the stage. We saw, the other evening, an old greasy red cloth covering a table, on which was placed one of the mest worn-out inkstands we ever beheld. Now, if we see that greasy red cloth again we shall growl most lustily. Does not this too look like parsimony? yet Gulielmus says he is not parsimonious, and Gulielmus is an honourable man.

With the new actors and actresses we are, on the whole, pretty well satisfied. Taking them en masse, the alterations are for the better, but there has been no one addition of a very striking and triumphant character. Miss Turpin is the acquisition of greatest consequence, and the people from the Caledonian of least. We are convinced that, in engaging them, Mr Murray sacrificed his own judgment to the vulgar clamour raised by a few nincompoops, who know nothing about acting, and have very obscure notions of what refined and elegant music ought to be. We have no desire whatever to persecute the poor people from the Caledonian, and it is with reluçtance that we speak severely of them; but this we must say, that unless they very greatly improve, they will cast an air of vulgarity over every opera performed this season, and will do any thing rather than elevate the musical taste of the Edinburgh public. Horncastle, who will have occasion frequently to sing with Miss Turpin, has not a voice that suits hers in the least. His natural tones are far too strong and husky, and his falsetto is, for the most part, flinty and harsh. Besides, he possesses little or no delicacy of modulation; and he sings with sa little feeling or expression, that though he rather engrusses. the ear, he never once touches the heart. His acting aud singing in the part of Captain Macheath, on the night on which Miss Turpin made her debut, were about as pont as could well be imagined. Reynoldson has a voice of very limited compass, but it may be turned to account in

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omé parts. ̈1 Edmunds has a rich mellow voice, but his tyle is so 'thoroughly Caledonian, that it is difficult to isten to him with any pleasure. Miss Horncastle is beyond the pale of criticism altogether.

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rigible. This drama is said to be the handiwork of Mr W. Barrymore; but as he has not yet publicly owned it, we presume he will now consider it wisest to remain silent.

Shakspeare's" Henry the Fourth," in which Dowton's Falstaff was most excellent, has been revived here, once with Macready as Hotspur, and once with Wallack. Both represented the fiery soldier with very considerable ability, though extremely unlike each other; and the whole play was marred by the etiquette, or whatever else it was, which precluded those two gentlemen from playing, Macready, Hotspur, and Wallack, the Prince of Wales, as they were originally advertised. In consequence of this punctilio, Frederick Vining was most injudiciously made the young Plantagenet, whom, as might have been expected, he rendered very unlike the royal Harry of our immortal bard; whereas, his brother James, who would have both looked the character well, and

Passing from these "peculiar people," we find Waldron is to play the first tragedy and comedy. He is very respectable, but will by no means produce the same effect in the male parts that Miss Jarman does in the female. He is a quiet judicious actor, with a face and figure that are by no means commanding, and a slight deficiency of enthusiasm and ardour.-Green, the comedian, is excellent in half-and-half comedy, but not in the highest kind. He has all the enthusiasm that Waldron wants, and is in constant danger, not of doing too little, but of doing too much. His notions of elegance are not chaste enough. He cannot stand still,- one of the great tests of an actor of genteel comedy." Nevertheless, he is an agreeable fellow, and though there is a je ne scai quoi about him, which prevents him from being exactly the gentle-played it respectably, ought most unquestionably to have man, he always puts life and bustle into the scene, and one is glad to see him come upon the stage. He has been said to be an Irishman in some of the newspapers, but we believe this is a mistake.-Mrs Pettingall is a clever, and rather a pretty little woman in the chambermaid line. She sings a good song too, either grave or gay.As far as we can yet judge, Brindal, who has come in Montague Stanley's place, is a better actor in comedy than ever Stanley was. We have not time at present to speak of any of the old familiar faces; and there are none of the other novelties worth mentioning, except perhaps Miss Adelaide O'Bryan, who is a very third or fourth-rate dancer, after the fashion of the opera girls, and who appeared for a night or two in what was called a petite ballet, but it was the most complete mock-crusade against the minors, it is certainly any thing but ery of a ballet ever witnessed. She is now more wisely made to recreate the audience with a pas seul.

On Tuesday evening, a new farce was produced, called "Perfection, or the Lady of Munster." One or two of the scenes are rather too lengthy, but on the whole it is a lively and amusing afterpiece. Miss Jarman played the heroine with her usual animation and spirit—a spirit which never flags. She was well supported by Murray, Stanley, Green, and Mrs Pettingall. Murray introduced the admirable ballad of "The Old Country Gentleman," to hear which alone it is worth while going to the theatre any evening.Diverse are the remarks we have yet to make, and numerous the sage apothegms we have to deliver, but Troy Town was not built in a day ;-"bide a wee." Old Cerberus.

THE LONDON DRAMA.

Regent's Park, London, Monday, November 22, 1830. "DRURY LANE's new melo-drama of the "Conscript" is certainly one of the worst of a very bad species; and that the hissing was not quite powerful enough to limit its performance to a single representation, was a lenity by no means laudable. Cooper had a tolerable part, which hé made the most of; but the other principal performer, the Dog, forgot himself sadly, and ran in all directions but the right one. If it were likely to produce any good effect, we could be most eloquently wrathful at this prostitution of the Theatre of Garrick, and Siddons, and Kemble, to the exhibition of quadrupeds; and that not merely in their proper place-if they ought even to have a place there at all-but in the first and principal piece of the evening, with a farce and opera played afterwards, and terminating, perhaps nearly two hours after midnight. Feeling assured, however, that it would be a mere waste of much valuable and virtuous indignation to he at all angry on such a subject, we must even take whatever the managers provide for us, and be thankful; seeing that they consider themselves to be infallible, and experience has long since taught us that they are incor

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been cast for it, and Frederick kept out of Shakspeare and blank verse, equally for his own sake and that of his auditors. A Miss Huddart, erst of the Surrey, the Coburg, and more recently of the provinces, is this evening to essay Belvidera; but, unlike some critics whom we could name, we must see her before we report upon her merits.

Covent Garden's long-promised comedy of the “Chancery Suit, or, Wanted, a Title," is to be produced on Thursday next; and this evening, to the disgrace of the management, is to be brought out Ball's-we beg his pardon, Fitzball's-most stupid dramatic adaptation of Cooper's "Pilot." Whilst our two great patent establishments are so exceedingly actively engaged in the

fair thus to adopt a piece positively written for one of those said minors, and actually played at all of them. The drama would, indeed, seem to be in its "lowest depth," when a dog proves the chief attraction in the first piece at Drury Lane, and Covent Garden borrows a worn-out absurdity from its inferior rivals ;—the simple elucidation of such disgraceful conduct being, that T. P. Cooke, having an engagement, must be made use of; and the last scene of the defunct" Blue Anchor" will do admirably for the " lee shore" scene with the "Ariel" in the "Pilot" Such is a specimen of dramatic Machiavelism. Miss Taylor has passed the ordeal of her first appearance, in Rosalind, most triumphantly. She is, indeed, a very clever girl, and though not critically beautiful, yet "the mind, the music, breathing from her face," infinitely more than compensates for the absence of beauty. As Quin said of, we believe, Mrs Abington, "she has the true spirit in her." SOMERSET.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

A REMEMBERED HOUR.

Ir was not an hour of sadness,
It was not an hour of mirth,
But an hour of pure and holy feeling,
More full of heaven than earth.

We sat on a mountain side,

As the golden evening fell;

We were only three, but we form'd a world-
We had loved so long and so well.

We were three, and yet we were one;
For our hearts were like jewels set,
All of the same high purity,

In one bright coronet.

The scene that before us lay

Was simple, wild, and calm;
And we felt its beauty steal
Upon our minds like balm.

Long time we gazing sat-

In mute affection long,

At length, far up among the hills,
We caught the shepherd's song.

So artless and so mournful

The strain fell on our ears,

My mother placed our hands in hers,
With eyes that shone in tears.

And he, my loved! and I
A kindred feeling took,
And wept for very sympathy
To see my mother's look.

It was a strange and dreamy thing
To sit upon the hill,
And hear that distant melody
When all around was still.

The very forms beside me,

The faces dear and kind,

The streams, the trees, grew vision-like To my fantastic mind.

O! many a year is wasted

By the idle and the vain,
In haunts of heartless pleasure,
Which is nought but gilded pain.

Ah! Happiness, the spirit!

Rules not the lordly feast,

But pours her light on quiet hearts
Who court her presence least.

That long calm hour of evening
I never can forget,

We pass'd upon the mountain side
When summer's sun had set.

It was not an hour of sadness,→→
It was not an hour of mirth;
But perchance it was the happiest hour
I am doom'd to know on earth.

THE FALSE ONE.

By Laurence Macdonald. DISTANT, Sever'd, though we be, Thou canst never all break free From that melancholy spell Now around thee, that shall dwell On thy brow, and in thy face, Showing some mysterious trace Of a soul not all at rest, As by secret thoughts oppress'd, As by sorrow none may know, As by something that will grow, Tinging all thy hours of joy With its poison and alloy; And to burst that viewless chain, Hope not, or thy hope is vain!

GERTRUDE.

Quicker than the Arab steed,
Winged like the lightning's speed,
When thine eye shall flash along
Countless images that throng
To thy memory of the past,
One shall haunt thee to the last!
Be the phantom of thy thought
Nearest to thee when unsought,
Disunited from thee-never!
Now about thee, and for ever.
Thou mayest mingle with the throng,
Take thy fill of dance and song,
Go the giddy round of fashion,
Where there is nor love nor passion,
But a false affected show,
Dizzy, dissipated, low,--

All will nothing thee avail;
All the powers of earth shall fail
To relieve thee from the thought
Of the madness thou hast wrought,
Of the suffering thou hast given,
Of the heart that thou hast riven,
Of the peace that thou hast slain,
Ne'er to be restored again!

ON THE FUNERAL OF A MILITARY FRIEND. By John Malcolm.

False the lights on Glory's plume,

As fading hues of even.-MOORE

How strange!-Scarce one brief year hath past
Since on this spot I met him last,

In noon of manhood's day,

And now-Oh! what a change is here—
The burial-train-the early bier—

The muffled drum and dead-march drear—

The cold and coffin'd clay.

'Tis borne by Albyn's plaided guard;

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Her old "Black Watch," with which he shared War's glory and its gloom.

The bonnet on the pall is placed,

His towering head that lately graced,
And shaded with its sable crest,

And waving blood-red plume ·
Now, o'er the dark unconscious dead,
In cadence to the mourners' tread,
'Tis nodding to the tomb.

And by its side the broad claymore,
Whose shine erewhile was dimm'd in gore,
Ingloriously doth rest;

That gleam'd upon Vimeira's shore,
And bleak Busaco's crest;

Flash'd o'er Ciudad Rodrigo's fall,

And many a breach'd and batter'd wall,
Where battle's brunt is borne,-
Where, sweeping through destruction dire,
And swathed in thunder, gloom, and fire,
Within the deadly gap expire

They of the hope forlorn;
That shone o'er Albuera's slain,
And Talavera's carnaged plain,
Fuentes' field, and Burgos' rock,

And, drench'd with crimson dew,
Amid the last wild thundershock
Of war on Waterloo !

He saw his friends around him fall
In battle and survived them all.
He died when Hope's fulfilment near,
Seem'd come to crown his red career-
On laurels won to woo repose,

In guerdon of his wounds and woes,
And point, his native scenes among,
To coming years, that bright and long
Would gild the evening of his day,
And smile its clouds and cares away.

False dreams!-From perils 'scaped in vain,

He met the yellow pest of Spain,

Which left him but the life to come;

From that far land, and, just when nigh

The very threshold of his home,

To lay him down and die.

Ah! thus its tale of turmoil past

The life of storm is still'd at last,

Like cradled infaney to rest,
And down, where glory is a jest,
Slow sinks the coffin-falls the clay-
Drops the curtain on the day-
And-by all on earth forsaken,
Resting at the final goal-
O'er the dead they cannot waken,
Thrice the volley'd thunders roll

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The Scottish Gael; or, Celtic Manners, as preserved among the Highlanders. Being an Historical and Descriptive Account of the Inhabitants, Antiquities, and National Peculiarities of Scotland, &c &c. By James Logan, Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries of ScotLondon. Smith, Elder, and Co. 1831. 2 vols. 8vo. Pp. 384 and 427.

land.

PRICE 6d.

tish Highlands and their interesting inhabitants, there is great lack of authentic information and dispassionate enThe Celts

quiry regarding both, particularly the latter. have been so much the subject of extravagant panegyric by one class of writers, as to provoke the equally unmerited contempt and wanton hostility of another. The vanity of the Celts made them extremely unwilling to relinquish any part of that arrogant claim of superiority over their Lowland countrymen, which they always affected; while the pride of the Goths, justly indignant THE study of national antiquities, though highly import at such an assumption, made them equally unwilling to ant and advantageous to the cause of literature, is generally admit the rea! merits of the Gaël, whom they pretended attended with little of either reputation or emolument to regard as downright savages. In this absurd contest, to the antiquary himself. His labours are a perpetual truth was unmercifully sacrificed to prejudice. Celtic drudgery. The subjects of his investigation are in their poetry, Celtic courage, Celtic dress, Celtic manners, and own nature little calculated to invite the attention of the Celtic language, were objects of panegyric or of blame, men of talents; while the length of time, the minute not according to their own merits, but according to party examination, and the laborious research, necessary to in- prejudices. Upon such subjects, it must be confessed, vestigate them with success, added to the unsatisfactory the Celts had the advantage in point of information ;— results to which, from want of sufficient data, even the the Lowlanders were necessarily very imperfectly acmost careful enquiry will sometimes lead, and the scanty quainted with the manners, the traditions, the language, harvest of fame which, even on the most favourable and the history of the mountaineers; but this was more supposition, this study yields, recommend it still less to than counterbalanced by the superior acuteness and lite-, those who are impatient to distinguish themselves in the │rary qualifications of the Goths. Such advocates as John career of popular literature. Fortunate it is, that, amid Lane Buchanan, a coxcomb, who would scarcely have all these discouragements, there are men—and these, too, hesitated, in his pedantic enthusiasm for his native High-' of no mean capacity-who seem to have a natural, disin- lands, to have placed the garden of Eden in the very terested passion for such enquiries; and who, without heart of Lochaber, and to have, converted Adam's figany discernible motive at least any motive at all adequate leaves into a tartan philabeg, were ill qualified to bear to such a sacrifice-pursue their dry and apparently the rude encounter of Pinkerton, who, notwithstanding trivial investigations, with an ardour always unaccount- his inveterate prejudices, possessed the learning of an acable, and often not a little ridiculous, in the eyes of ordi-complished scholar, and the acuteness of a practised critic, nary men. We make ourselves merry at the expense of together with extensive antiquarian knowledge. The the unfortunate antiquary, when accident discovers one natural consequence of such inequality between the chamof those mistakes into which, from the character of his pions, is a pretty general opinion, especially among the peculiar studies, he is so liable to fall; and even when we learned, that the pretensions of the Celts to any sort of are convinced that his discoveries are genuine, we are distinction, except as ignorant barbarians, is altogether, more apt to ridicule than sympathize with his enthusiasm unfounded. for a paltry coin or other trifling relic of antiquity, as if Under such circumstances, a work like the present, it were a discovery of first-rate importance to the present written by a man of sense and moderation, who is conhappiness or future well-being of the whole human race. tent to substitute patient enquiry for angry declamation, Yet, to the labours of the antiquary, insignificant as their was absolutely necessary, aud, is likely to he eminently results may appear in detail, almost every science is useful to the cause of the Celts. Mr Logan is not altodeeply indebted. From his stores, history draws largely,gether impartial, perhaps, but antiquarian research is the and philosophy more largely still; and the antiquary, amid the taunts and frequent disappointments to which his studies subject him, has the proud consciousness of knowing that he is laying the foundation, and furnishing **e rich materials, of many a splendid edifice. He conas himself to wash the sands and to labour in the mine, wh more fortunate workmen fashion the precious ore into a thousand forms, which dazzle and delight mankind. Sic vos non vobis mellificatis apes, is a motto singularly appropriate to all antiquarian societies.

best possible corrective of enthusiasm; and we must do our author the justice to say, that if his opinions are sometimes questionable, his facts are often curious, sometimes new, and, in general, most satisfactorily substantiated. We are not acquainted with any other work that contains more extensive information on Scottish antiquíties generally, and especially such as are more immediately connected with the history and language of the Gaël, than the volumes now before us. They are evidently the result of careful and varied research, and We have been tempted to offer these general remarks patient investigation. Dr M'Pherson's Dissertation is as an introduction to our notice of Mr Logan's "Scot- the only work upon the same subject, which we can think tish Gaël," a work of which we have been favoured with of comparing with the present, in point of literary excelan early perusal, and of which we are disposed to speak lence; but Mr Logan's plan is much more comprehensive in terms of very decided praise. Although much has than M'Pherson's;-it embraces a greater variety of subbeen written, particularly of late years, about the Scot-jects, and is less exclusively classical in its authorities.

It is enriched with upwards of sixty embellishments, illustrative of Celtic antiquities, from drawings by Mr Logan himself. These are very neatly executed, and they are highly useful, as well as ornamental.

Of a work like this, affecting to describe all that can be known of a whole people, in regard to their origin, language, arts, science, domestic habits, and foreign relations, it cannot be expected that we should give more than a very general notice. The description of the ancient Celts, extracted from the writings of Cæsar, Florus, Ammianus Marcellinus, Tacitus, &c., though not the least valuable part of the work, is to us the least interesting, as it contains little which we have not already met with, either in the originals, or in the extracts of more modern writers. It was, however, necessary to the completeness of the author's view. He is much more interesting when he descends to the peculiar dress, arms, and manners of the Scottish Gaël. In our own opinion, he has triumphantly vindicated the antiquity of that interesting (a Highlander would have said graceful) portion of dress the kill. His arguments in support of Ossian will perhaps be thought less satisfactory, but he has, at least, made out a plausible case for the old blind bard. But it is time that we should lay before our readers a few extracts from the work itself, that they may be able to judge of its spirit; premising, at the same time, in justice to Mr Logan, that it is not so much in striking passages, as in its combined mass of information, that the merit of his work consists. The following anecdote, and the verses which commemorate the heroism of Gillies Macbane, deserve transcription:

GILLIES MACBANE AT CULLODEN.

"In the disordered retreat at Culloden, an English cavalry officer advanced in front of his regiment to catch one of the flying Highlanders who had come rather close to the line. The fellow quickly brought him down with his broadsword, and having dispatched him, he deliberately stopped to take his watch, in front of a whole squadron of the enemy. In that disastrous battle, the heroism of Gillies Macbane was most eminently displayed, and worthy of a better fate. This gentleman was major of the regiment of Clan M'Intosh; and when the Argyle militia broke down the park wall, which enabled them to attack the Highland ers in flank, the brave Gillies stationed himself at the gap, and as the enemy entered, they severely suffered from the irresistible strokes of his claymore. As John Breach MacDonald, who stood beside him, expressed it, 'he mowed them down like dockins.' At last, finding himself opposed singly to a whole troop, he set his back to the wall, and defended himself with the fierceness of desperation, keeping the enemy long at bay, and killing an almost incredible number. Some officers, admiring his valour, endeavoured to save his life, but poor Gillies fell where he had slain thirteen of his foes. According to some accounts, the number was much greater. A descendant of this brave man, who has lost a leg, resides at Chelsea, and is remarkable for his fine stature and proportion. The following verses are said to be from the pen of Lord Byron ;

GILLIES MACBANE.

"The clouds may pour down on Culloden's red plain,
But the waters shall flow o'er its crimson in vain;
For their drops shall seem few to the tears for the slain,
But mine are for thee, my brave Gillies Macbane!

Though thy cause was the cause of the injured and brave,
Though thy death was the hero's, and glorious thy grave,
With thy dead foes around thee, piled high on the plain,
My sad heart bleeds o'er thee, my Gillies Macbane!
How the horse and the horseman thy single hand slew!
But what could the mightiest single arm do?
A hundred like thee might the battle regain,
But cold are thy hand and heart, Gillies Macbane!

With thy back to the wall, and thy breast to the targe,
Full flash'd thy claymore in the face of their charge;
The blood of their boldest that barren turf stain;
But, alas! thine is reddest there, Gillies Macbane!

Hewn down, but still battling, thou sunk'st on the ground

Thy plaid was one gore, and thy breast was one wound;
Thirteen of thy foes by thy right hand were slain;
Oh! would they were thousands, for Gillies Macbane !

Oh! loud, and long heard, shall thy coronach be;
And high o'er the heather thy cairn we shall see ;
And deep in all bosoms thy name shall remain,
But deepest in mine, dearest Gillies Macbane!

And daily the eyes of thy brave boy before Shall thy plaid be unfolded, unsheathed thy claymore; And the white rose shall bloom on his bonnet again, Should he prove the true son of my Gillies Macbane!" The devoted attachment of Highlanders to their chiefs is well known. The ties of real or supposed kindred between the meanest clansman and the head of the clan, joined to the absolute dependence of the former upon the latter, were strongly calculated to excite and cherish this feeling. The history of the Gaël abounds with such instances of attachment as the following:

HIGHLAND FIDELITY.

"At Glenshiels, in 1719, Munro of Culcairn was wounded in the thigh, and the rebels continued to fire on him when down. Finding their determination to kill him, he desired his servant to get out of the way, and return home, to inform his father that he had not misbehaved. The faithful Highlander burst into tears, and, refusing to leave his mas ter, threw himself down, and, covering the body of his chief with his own, received several wounds, and in all probability both lives would have been lost, if one of the clan, who commanded a party, had not seen their perilous situation. He swore on his dirk he would dislodge the enemy, and, by a desperate charge in the spirit of the oath, he did so.

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We are apt to be much amused with the pompous etiquette of small Italian and German courts; such, for instance, as that of the sovereign of Liechtenstein, whose entire principality, in regard to population, falls somewhat short of the good town of Musselburgh, but who nevertheless must have his officers of state, with as high sounding titles as if he were Czar of Muscovy. The Highland chief was not less particular in this respect than the proudest Goth that ever drank black beer, or traced his family to the blood royal of Decebalus. The regular establishment of a chief consisted of the following individuals:

THE ATTENDANTS OF A HIGHLAND CHIEF.

"The Gille-corse, or hanchman, who closely attended the person of his chief, and stood behind him at table. "The Bladair, or spokesman, "The Bard.

"The Piobaire, or piper.

"The Gille-piobaire, the piper's servant, who carried his instrument.

"The Gille-more, who carried the chief's broadsword. "The Gille-casfluich, who carried him, when on foot, over the rivers.

"The Gille-comhstraitham, who led his horse in rough and dangerous paths.

"The Gille-trusareis, or baggage-man.

"The Gille-ruithe, or running footman, was also an sccasional attendant.

"Besides these, he was generally accompanied by several gentlemen, who were near relations; and a number of the commoners followed him, and partook of the cheer, which was always provided by the person to whom a visit was paid. These large followings, or tails, occasioned an act of council to be passed, prohibiting the northern lairds from appearing at Edinburgh with so formidable and inconve nient a retinue. The tails of the Highland chiefs were, however, sufficiently imposing on occasion of his Majesty's late visit to Dunedin."

Our next extract is a quotation from Barclay's Contra Monarchomacus; it is the description of a great Highland hunting match:

A ROYAL HUNTING MATCH.

"In the year 1563, the Earl of Athol, a prince of the

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