LITERARY CHITCHAT AND VARIETIES.

"A MOTHER'S Conversations, or History rendered familiar to the capacities of Children," by a lady, will be published in a few days.

A translation of the Memoirs of the Duchess of Abrantes is announced. They are said to contain many curious particulars relating to the fortunes of the lady's husband, Junot, and other retainers of Napoleon.

A new edition of "Four Years in the West Indies" will shortly appear, containing a full account of the late dreadful hurricanes. Sharon Turner announces, "The Sacred History of the World, from the Creation to the Deluge, attempted to be philosophically considered, in a series of Letters to a Son."

Mr Ross Cox's Account of his Adventures on the Columbia River, contains striking pictures of the Aborigines of that district, and some as extraordinary adventures in the person of the narrator as have been told in those days.

Alice Paulet is announced with most thundering emphasis. Sydenham is now a married man, and enabled to make "his caustic remarks upon scenes and characters, which would necessarily have been excluded from his scrutiny as a bachelor." Are we to have a green bag against the ladies of famous London town en masse ?

SCOTTISH EPISCOPAL THEOLOGICAL INSTITUTE.-The Trustees of this lately endowed institution have, we understand, purchased a house in Hill Street, for the purpose of containing the library be queathed to the Institute by the venerable Bishop Jolly of Moray, and also to accommodate the students of the Episcopal Church in attendance on the prelections of Bishop Walker on Theology, and of the Rev. Mr Terrot on Biblical Criticism. We learn that arrangements are in progress for throwing open these valuable lectures to the public.

EDINBURGH.-Paganini is this week's theme, but the reader has no doubt heard enough of him already.-St Luke's Club held its first meeting for the season on Tuesday. So many of the members were absent from town that it was but thinly attended. The evening was spent, however, with much, though tranquil, enjoy ment. Roland, whose rooms are again beginning to fill, is bringing out a practical treatise upon Gymnastics. The lithographed illustrative drawings are executed by Mr William Forrester in a remarkably neat and precise style. The letterpress is by the master himself. The subscriptions are filling up rapidly-so much so, that he begins to contemplate the possibility of following up this work on some future occasion with a similar treatise on the small and broad swords.-We have it rumoured that a letter is forthcoming from new Sir John of Edinburgh to old Sir John of Eastcheap. The confidential communications of these kindred souls (and bodies) must be interesting in the highest degree.--The Leith Philharmonic Society celebrate their first public festival for the season on Wednesday first.

BLE

ELGIN. The free school of Anderson's Hospital, (the Elgin Institution for the Education of Youth and Support of Old Age,) was lately opened, when 180 scholars were admitted. A dome is now erecting to crown this handsome edifice; when completed, it will add not only to the beauty of our good town, but also to the lovely view which arrests the traveller near the pretty rural vil. lage of Lhanbryde, on the road leading from Fochabers, when his eye catches the first glimpse of the spire and cathedral of Elgin.-A meeting was held some time ago, for the purpose of taking steps towards the establishment of an Infant School in Elgin. The venerable Principal Baird preached a sermon in our parish church, a few days ago, in aid of the General Assembly's schools, on his return from his annual philanthropic excursion to the Highlands and Islands of Scotland.-Mr John Grant, bookseller here, has announced his intention of publishing, by subscription, two views of Elgin Cathedral, in its original state, from sketches taken by himself, with the assistance of an eminent artist. The one presents a view from the north face of the building, and the other of the grand entrance from the west.

ABERDEEN. The Rev. Dr Black of Tarves has been unanimously appointed, by the Magistrates and Town Council of Aber. deen, to the vacant Professorship of Divinity in Marischal College, Mr Robertson having resigned the contest on the evening previous to the election.—Mr William Rattray, of the Aberdeen Academy, has intimated his intention of delivering three courses of lectures on Chemical Philosophy, during the ensuing winter and spring.➡ A Sessional School, upon the plan of Mr Wood's celebrated esta blishment, has lately been founded here, under the superintendence of Mr M'Aulay from Edinburgh. An Infant School has also been erected in Prince's Street. Mr Wilderspin and his daughter are speedily expected to visit this city.-Mr Lewis Smith has an. nounced for publication, early in November, part second of " Original Songs," composed and arranged by a lady; the lithography of the first part of which reflected so much credit on Mr Samuel Leith of Banff.-The annual competition for Bursaries, at King's and Marischal Colleges, takes place on the last Monday of October, and the first sugh of " November chill," will summon the professors to their lectures, and the students to their nightly tasks.-The Report of the Royal Commissioners, upon the state of the Scottish Universities, is anxiously looked for here. From the circumstance of no principal being yet elected to Marischal College, and the appointment being in the gift of the Crown, it is thought that the Commissioners have recommended an union of our two northern Alma Matres.

THE LITERARY GAZETTE.-The character of this work, in regard to its criticisms, is too well known to call for any description. We confess that we have always felt less intolerant towards it than the rest of our brethren. Its praise was venal, it is true, and absurd, but then it made no pretensions. We tolerated it in the literary world just as we tolerate certain persons in society--they are indifferent characters, it is true, but amusing, and too well known to be dangerous. When, however, creatures of this kind become malicious as well as dirty, it is high time to kick them out of the room. In a notice of Mr Aitken's Cabinet-a book which we reviewed some weeks back-the Editor of the Literary Gazette, or some of his hacks, before entering at all upon the merits of the selection, as affording a specimen of the current literature of the day, turns round upon the Editor, and abuses him in the choicest Billingsgate for the dishonesty of his publication. It is unjust to the authors from whose works he has made selections. Quis tulerit Gracchos, &c.? This is a good joke from men who earn their bread by weekly repetition of a similar practice. Besides, none know better than they that authors are rather gratified than otherwise by acknowledged excerpts from their works-both as a tribute to their merit, and a means of extending the knowledge of them. If this do not satisfy the queasy consciences of these gentlemen, we must out with the truth to quiet them-there is not one tale, essay, or poem, of any consequence in the volume, for the publication of which Mr Aitken has not the express permission of the author. The critic despatches the selection by asserting, that one half of the volume consists of pieces which are" in the memory or library of every lover of polite literature, "while the other half is not worthy of preservation, "being by names whose insignificance might have preserved their obscurity." As to the former objection, works like the "Cabinet," do not address themselves to persons who are extensively acquainted with literature and possessed of libraries. As to the latter, we were well aware, though we scarcely hoped to see it so frankly avowed, that the Literary Gazette estimates a work, not by its internal merits, but by the name of the author. A titled or a fashionable author finds it all honey,

CHITCHAT FROM GLASGOW.-The absorbing nature of politics is such, that, like love, it must have the whole heart, or none. Judge, then, how glad the Glasgow readers of the Journal must be to get a breathing time, to turn to the humane letters. The circulation of the Journal will double itself. Apropos of humanity-in the Scottish sense-our chair of Roman literature is not yet filled. Every one out of the senatus says, that Carson is the man,-but it is feared that a casting vote will give it to a clever, unmarried youngster, as yet unknown to letters and the world, (there are sundry fine girls in the New-Court of the University yet husbandless,) who is quite like Vapid in the "Dramatist," "Tragedy, comedy, prologue, or epilogue-I am your man." In crossing the stream of promotion, it is sometimes prudent to trust to a Sand-ford.-All the commercial public expect a "No" decision as to the Oriental chair.-Brydson's sweet little volume is inscribed to the Countess of Wemyss. Has she any church patronage? In two years, a kirk and a manse might both be adorned by so amiable a poet.-Our Exhibition of Painting, like every elegant pursuit, languished in the malaria of political contention, but is now thronged. You have got our Graham among you. His portraits are the first in our Exhibition. One of the venerable Mrs Smith, sen., of Jordanhill, is perfect in its fine simplicity, and that of the excellent Mr Denniston is, in more ways than mere likeness-like himself-unostentatious, firm, dignified-yet challenging the utmost scrutiny, and justifying the warmest praise. It is to be engraved, and will form one of the ornaments in every citizen's house who appreciates worth in the original, and skill in the semblance. Graham, too, it is whispered, is likely to be dispatched on a mission from our princely-but mercy on the poor devil who is without money or influence, merchants to Majesty's self, to paint our King for the Merchants' Hall. A good bust of Henry Bell is in our Exhibition, and is a tribute somewhat tardy to the introducer of steam-boats. Casts from it are freely subscribed for.-Signor Blitz continues to attract the most fashionable assemblages at his soirées, and every body says, especially the ladies, that he is a dence of a fellow.

or who chances to be exposed for the moment to fashionable odium. We certainly have no intention of allowing ourselves to get angry at any thing so intellectually and morally insignificant as the paper we are speaking of, but we must turn up our nose even at a bug when its odour becomes offensive, or its bite teasing. As little do we intend to repeat the praise we felt ourselves called upon to

numerous enactments which it has extorted from an indifferent-a reluctant legislature. See that spirit which is fermenting and boiling over through all our West India Islands. And as to the question of our city-improve

ments

Long. The only rational improver I have known was the great fire. Our venerable friend N- was gazing on its smoking embers, after its course had been arrested, when Sir Walter called to him, " It's a pity it has been stopped, it was holding on in a grand direction!"

Ed. Have you read Sir Henry Halford's manifesto? Long. As cold-blooded a piece of ignorant presumption as ever the heart of a compound of courtier and bodysnatcher, and the brain of an ass, devised between them. This is the same soft, silken-spoken gentleman, (is it not?) who reconciled it to his conscience to publish bulletins of the health of dying majesty, (false as those of Napoleon's victories,) deceiving an anxiously-expectant nation, rather than shake one nerve of his master. But when meaner mortals are concerned, the consolation of mourning and assisting friends is callously denied to the sufferer-the

prescribed before we know in what form or character the
disease is to attack us.

Alf. "It's coming yet, it's coming yet,
It's coming yet for a' that."

Alf. And so it was; it would have effectually cleaned out those receptacles of typhus-I cannot think of them without shuddering. Go down any of the closes which branch off from the High Street. High, dingy houses, with dirty shattered windows, rise on either side of youseven, eight, and nine stories-the opposite sides so in-nation is converted into one great garrison-and all this clining to each other that the heaven can scarcely be seen above. Close and court communicate with each other by narrower veins. The unpaved, uneven surface, is covered with mud and dung, interspersed with pools of stagnant and putrid water. The air is loaded with a sour and sickly smell. The ground tenements have damp clay floors, and are pervious to every blast; the upper stories, to which you attain by dilapidated stairs, cumbered and soiled with every nuisance, have a musty smell, as if no breath of air ever penetrated into them. There you may see honest industry living next door to a den of thieves, or a receptacle of low and squalid prostitution. In one room, there is a clean sanded floor, and whitewashed walls; but the furniture, though tidy, is poor and scanty. A woman, dressed in shabby, outworn clothes, but with an appearance of neatness, is bustling Her husband, attired in dirty rags, is sitting at a table by the window, a block of beechwood and a drawing before him. He drinks all his earnings; and, even when sober, his whole frame trembles, and his head is confused. Go to the next door this room is tenanted by a whole family. The father, his son, and two others, are hammering away at their trade of shoemakers. His daughter, the wife of one of the workmen, lies in childbed in the apartment; another bed is tenanted by a little girl, sick of a fever. Now ascend the stairs-but I will not sicken you by describing the scene of squalor and vice that there presents itself. Ed. Horrible, horrible.

about the room.

Long. Now, to proceed with the somewhat extreme system of improvements I have suggested. As long as these houses stand, they will be tenanted. Although you succeed in convincing their present occupants that they will be more healthily and comfortably situated in wider streets in the environs, still these dens of filth will be hauntedand that by a race of more unmixed and unmitigated evil. It were vain to hope that the proprietors of these houses would give them up, as long as they can obtain a penny of rent for them. The actual cautery is the only remedy for such an ulcer in our city's frame. Oh, that night's blaze! I think I see it still. The huge waves of flame swelling and sinking, and licking with their tongues the neighbouring houses, ere they swallowed them, while mute thousands gazed in horror! How proudly it held its swift onward career! Had it not been stopped, we should now have had one fine broad street from St Giles's down to Holyrood. The church and the palace would have looked each other in the face, and conversed about the olden time.

Alf. The Typhus thrusts, every one or two years, its bloated and plague-spotted form from out these receptacles, as Scylla reared her hideous form from the waters, and gulps down a few inhabitants of the New Town. But in the dens of which we speak, she lies year after year in" lazily mumbling the bones" of such as venture to pitch their tents within the reach of her " sovereign sway and masterdom."

Ed. The religion of Typhus is an outworn superstition. A new and more potent deity is on the way to

Ed. Hold your tongue, you monkey. Alf. It's coming. With prophetic eye I see it. The ravages commence at the foot of the Canongate-near that filthy puddle at the bottom of the Salisbury Craigs. It runs in three distinct streams ;-one along the Cowgate, through the Grassmarket, and round to the West Church; another up the North Back of the Canongate, (taking Paul's Work in its way,) and loses itself among Peter Neill's plantations; a third down Leith Wynd, through Catherine and Union Street to the Canonmills, and thence All the low-lying parts of the up the Water of Leith. city are by this time infected. The hill-parts, which, of course, are the last to feel the scourge, lie like lonely islands girt in by a sea of living flame and fierce agony. The pestilence now walks abroad at noonday; it hurries up the closes on each side of the Castlehill, spreads over the Pleasance, attacks Great King Street, until the haughty Dun Edin becomes a fearful realization of its poet's "City of the Plague.”

Tait. What shall become of us, sinful men that we

are?

Long. Send for your " Father-Confessor" immediately. Ed. We will, the moment the epidemic (for such it is) appears, secure the highest land in that tall tenement have an apartment fitted up on the top of Nelson's Mofronting us on the top of the Mound-or, better still, nument. Round the entry to our domicile will we erect a breast work of huge puncheons of rum and hogsheads of porter. Our victuals shall be hoisted up by means of a crane, and duly fumigated and impregnated with chlorine, before they are admitted within the window. We will drink our way out through the fences, and by the time we have accomplished this the danger will be over. Alf. There shall we beside our blazing fireOur meteor-standard to the winds unfurl'd, Look from our throne of grog o'er half the world— through the long winter nights.

Long. The inhabitants of the doomed city will eye our beacon blaze, and feel a sad consolation in the thought that their race shall not utterly perish.

Ed. But when we again revisit our former haunts, how melancholy the change!

Alf. Mute may be the tuneful voice of Peter Robert