FOREIGN SKETCHES.-No. II.

FRENCH SPLEEN TOWARDS THE ENGLISH, AND ENGLISH OPINION OF THE FRENCH.

In

"C'est une belle et respectable nation que la Nation Anglaise" was the opinion of the French people in the days of Florian; but, how much has our national character fallen, in the same people's estimation, during the 19th century! An Englishman finds now in France but little which does not pourtray sentiments the most opposite to those of their favourite novelist. If he enters a theatre, instead of finding his countryman holding in the comedy (as he was wont to do,) the character of every thing that is amiable, virtuous and generous, he will meet with "Les Anglaises pour rire," or "Les deux Anglais;" if he enters the public promenades, he will find them decorated with caricatures of " Milord and Miledi Goddem," and crowds of most respect able Parisians searching through the vast collection, to find if there be any thing new to tell of "Monsieur Rosbif," at the restaurateurs. If he walks the streets, he will discover that politeness itself can hardly hide the envious sneer, and when that is awanting-which, however, is rarely the case-anger is too often exhibited in giving vent to a hearty sacre. Britain, if such feelings of animosity exist, they are confined to vulgar minds; but in France the spirit of envy seems to rankle in minds of a very superior cast, coupled with that innate feeling, that every Frenchman possesses, of undervaluing others, for the purpose of raising himself, and, steady to the egotistical idea, that no nation is so far advanced in science, in literature, and in manners, as his own-nor no individual more enlightened than a Frenchman-and, finding that the English, as well as others, are fast treading on their heels in many things, and far surpassing them in others, his politeness and his philosophy are too often sacrificed to that spirit of spleen and envy which a pride, injured by contemned genius, has engendered. We can well enter into the French feeling of hatred towards the English, on the ground of being conquered by their politics-dare we say, by their prowess? For, had a French army ever taken possession of our Capital, or had a regiment de la veille garde stood centinel on our palaces, and garrisoned our citadels, a spirit of hatred not only, but a spirit of extermination, would have burned in every bosom. This spirit of patriotism and nationality is so far commendable, that the want of it is the most degrading character with which a nation can be branded; yet why should it be carried so far, as to extend its influence over every branch of science, of politics, of life, of manners, and of general comforts? to that point indeed, of being blinded to every improvement in these, on the part of others, and, especially, of being sceptical to any thing like advancement on the part of the nation, which has, from its peculiar circumstances, been the object of its patriotic enmity. True it is, that an Englishman finds, every moment in France, something said in the shape of insinuation or actual assertion, upon each and all of these points, to hurt his feelings and provoke his resentment. He will find his country's military tactics held in derision, by those who have been defeated by their excellence. He will find our Spanish victories denied, and even the battle which, by one stroke, settled the fate of Europe, stripped of its honours by the sup

posed undeniable fact, that l'Empereur etoit trahi. He will be obliged to listen to the ridicule which the infamous Pillet has attempted to throw upon our customs, and be assailed by the jokes of the author of Quinz jours à Londres. He will hear English politics branded with every thing but Europe's advantage, and Britain, who alone stood out against tyranny, loaded with the charge of being hostile to the liberty of the world. Let an Englishman, in conversation with the generality of the individuals he meets in Paris, touch upon the arts, literature or philosophy, and the same enmity towards his nation's claim to any thing even like equality is combated. If painting, for instance, be the subject, and if any of our heroes of the pictorial art be brought forward in support of our pretensions to possessing that art, they too often receive the appellation of Barbouillers. The Wests, the Turners, and the Lawrences, because forsooth they have not figured in the Journaux de Paris, must be far inferior in every point to the Davids, Girodets and Guerins of France. If sculpture be treated of, it finds an equally biassed reception; and although Canova almost worshipped the statues of Flaxman and Chantry, their merits will most probably be held in competition with the petty sculp tor that has scarcely modelled any thing but the marble head of Louis XVIII. and Charles X. Talk of the theatre, our plays are accounted little better than melo-dramas, and Shakespeare, the mighty Shakespeare, is condemned unknown, subjected to the borrowed criticism of inferior minds, while Racine and Coreille are held up as the standards of the legitimate tragedy. Speak of poetry, Milton's sublimity of soul is insulted by wittlings, who attempt to mimic the flippancy of Voltaire. Touch on philosophy, our country is hardly allowed to claim Newton as her son, and the excellence of our manufactures is said to depend on foreign ingenuity. In a word, England is disliked and envied, and, excepting a few great minds, to whom the world is indebted, and whose understandings are above the paltry bias that their countrymen have submitted to, there are few found in France ready to acknowledge the glory which Britain is entitled to.

It requires but a very short residence, indeed, to discover that the French nation is at one in their opinion of themselves and others. Upon common subjects you hear the same string of observations, and upon higher topics, similar sentiments echoed and reechoed from every mouth. Anxious to know, without taking pains to understand-to appear wise, without traversing the laborious tract that leads to that elevated situation-and to know every thing of France, without wishing to be acquainted with the affairs of other countries-the knowledge of the whole nation in general is derived, not from their own observation, or from opinions formed upon data of their own, but by giving up their understandings to be guided by a few great minds, to whom it has looked up, and still regards as beacons, to guide it in their opinion; and whose powerful words have spread, and still spread, like electricity, throughout all the country. This will account for the universal similarity of opinion which is sported to the English in France.

Public opinion, in a talkative nation, is easily discovered, and may at once be decided on. With respect to the manners and peculiarities of the various ranks in

society, that is what a stranger will be long of forming a proper judgment of. To desceribe les moeurs des Salons, et les moeurs de Bourgeosie, would require a residence similar to the Baron de Grimmes, and, to trace the latent springs of these, would require the penetrating eye of a Mad. de Stäel. Enough of folly has been advanced on these points, from want of consideration, to warn others from falling into the same error, and too many opposite opinions have been sported by those who have made a journey to Paris, to warn others from trusting to what may meet the eye of the passing traveller. There are a few peculiarities, however, which must strike even the most careless observer, and upon which there can be little diversity of opinion. He will find the French generally more patriotic in sentiment than his countrymen the English, but less so, when brought to testify it by action. He will find them more clamorous about their national glory, but not so zealous to establish it-more skimmingly acquainted with various subjects, and less informed on any one in particular-more anxious to appear learned, with less pretensions to be called savans. In matters of literature, more united in opinion, and in the knowledge of their own country more intimately acquainted. In every day transactions, more interested, and in national politics, less informed and less anxious. In the liberal arts, more generally and technically learned, and in the useful arts less practically informed. In luxury more gaudy, but in comfort inferior. In manner more pleasing, but in friendship less steady. In religion more splendid, and in morality less strict. To strangers more affable, and in intercourse with the unknown less suspicious. In humour and wit more natural, but in argument less powerful. In temper more cheerful, and under difficulties and afflictions far more resigned. In defending national peculiarities more clamorous, while in fashion and manners more changeable. As acquaintances of a day infinitely more amusing, but as friends for life too volatile to be ever the bosom companion of him who confides his secrets to but one individual in the world. With respect to variety of manners, these must always be gathered from being placed in particular situations, and should not be laid down as parts of a national character, except a long resi dence has stamped them as universal. There is contrariety in the character and manners of every nation, but none more so than in the French, and, hence, a great difficulty for a stranger, and especially for an Englishman, who is almost looked upon as an intruder, to judge of what he finds under so very opposite aspects. We find, in Paris, the most frivolous and the most sage leagued together-the seemingly utter want of morality, conjoined with the greatest sensibility and tenderness. We see the motto of "enjoy the present hour" at every corner of the city, and the future moments inculcated, with all the earnestness of entreaty, in the garden of Pére la Chaise. We find the greatest apathy testified for lost friends, while affectionate regard, and kind remembrance of departed worth, are seen exemplified in the hundreds that weep over the tombs of Mount Louis. But, should such remarks, hurriedly made, and taken either separately or conjoined, at once make us judge of a nation's character, so as to brand it with immorality, or blazon it for peculiar sensibility? Yet, it is almost in this way that we hear French manners, and public opinion, decided on by English travellers. It is from considering what the stranger sees around him, to be the actual epitome of the feelings, the peculiarities, and the ways of the whole, when it is only that of individuals or families, that we can at all account for the vast variety of sentiment which we hear offered by Continental travellers. It is from this alone, that he, who has spent the greater part of his residence in the Palais Royal, who dined at Veris, breakfasted at Tortonis, attended No. 9, took a private box at the Theatre Français, walked the passage of the panoramas, and the galerie de bois, returns to England, raving against the expenses of France, and against the

immorality, licentiousness, and frivolity of its inhabitants; while he who has resided in the Rue d'Enfer, attended the schools of the Pays Latin, and made his stated appearance at the sittings of the Institute, returns home in extascy with the literary and philosophic delights he has enjoyed, and is apt to conceive nothing of Paris, but as the abode of the mathematician and the chemist. It is thus, we hear the cry of want of comfort, by the person who travels with his family and suite, and the pleasure of whose tour is alone to arise, from change of situation, finding comfortable lodgings and good fare; while he, on the other hand, whose object is information, who contents himself with the diligence, dines à la table d'hôte, in company with the natives, is praising France and the cheapness of French living. It is thus that the man, who attends court and parties of le grande monde, is in raptures with the luxurious and elegant pastimes of Paris, while a thorough-bred cockney sighs for the je ne sais quois of good old London. It is from particular situation alone, that we hear him, who has entered into the family circle, telling of the delights, the charms, les agrèmens, of French society, while another is whispering of Boudoirs, or raging against the total want of matrimonial felicity; and, it is from this, coupled with a wish not to be behind their neighbours, either in point of advantages, or in point of supposed ability, that we hear so many of our countrymen, return from the French capital, with the exclamation Goldoni has put into the mouth of Lord Ernold, in his comedy of Pamela :-" Parigi, oh il mio caro Parigi! per la galanteria, per l'amore. Bel conversare senza sospetti! Che bell'amarsi senza larve di gelosia ! Sempre feste, sempre giardini, sempre allegrie, passatempi, tripudj.—oh che bel mondo! Oh che bel mondo! Oh che piacere, che passa tutti i piaceri del mondo !

A TRIP TO B

As your little Journal is alike open to articles on science, literature, morality, poetry, &c. if the following sketch of a short excursion to B- be as interesting to your numerous readers, as it was to the friends who accompanied me, you are welcome to insert it in your columns. On one of those delightful days with which we were lately favoured with, a friend requested the company of a banker, a man of letters and a bibliopole, to enter his carriage and visit, with him, the village of B- and inspect the delightful and romantic policy of Lord D, which was no sooner suggested, than heartily agreed to, without ever dreaming of encountering a storm, or finding mine "hostess to be ane most original character"—a real Megg Dodds, a faithful description of whom would require the graphic and powerful pen of our country's boast, Sir W. Scott, to do her full justice. It would occupy too much of your valuable space to attempt a description of our feelings, excited by the admiration we all felt and enjoyed, as we passed along the winding streams of our own river the Clyde, that

"Pure stream! in whose transparent wave, My youthful limbs I wont to lave." Suffice it to say, that they were, in proportion to the varied and beautiful scenery through which we passed, and heightened as we drew up, and alighted on the grounds of the Nobleman already alluded to. We had but reached the famed B-castle, when we were arrested by heavy rain, which urged us forward to the village of B- to which we had sent a messenger to prepare dinner for four; but, ere we arrived, we were drenched, and in a state far from being enviable. However, we arrived and entered our hospitable landlady's house, whom we found to be advanced in years, and in strength decayed, yet cheerful and con-' tent, with a flow of animal spirits always pleasing in old age. She had a wonderful confidence in her looks, and her visage occasionally glowed with anxiety, "to

do every thing in its proper time, and to keep every thing to its proper place." Maxims she had long learned and practised-all around her was clean, neat and elegant, even to the most fastidious taste—

"The white-wash'd wall, the nicely sanded floor,

The varnished clock, that clink'd behind the door." From the condition we were in on entering more befitting her sympathy than her reproaches-to our astonishment we were hailed with, "Hoot awa,' gude folks, ye're welcome, but aff wi' yer coats, and dry them," evidently alarmed lest the neat and clean appearance of her parlour should be thrown into confusion, or the bright polish of her hardwood chairs and table be injured; "an' if you, Sir," addressing the banker, "will put on ane of my bed-gowns, ye're welcome, and gang your ways up stairs, an' take your dinner while 'tis warm; and, aiblins, ye may get dryer under it than o'er my fire, and no gie us any more fash ye now." The sternness of our lady hostess seemed to strike our friend the banker with awe and astonishment, and, after doffing our upper garments, we ascended her upper apartments, where we found the best fare and entertainment her establishment at the time had. After enjoying dinner, we were again hailed by our landlady, who did not appear to be troubled with too much ceremony-"just come yere ways down the stairs, now since you've got dry and warm inside, an' take your toddy, (which startled one of our friends, being a temperate member, but who had not courage to resist such a formidable entreaty, and remained mute,) at the fire-side, while your coats are drying." Our friend, whose carriage brought us thither, with a shrewdness and knowledge of human nature to which we were no strangers, discovered that our hostess would add much to our enjoyment did we but accommodate ourselves to her humours and freaks, to which we all agreed, remembering that, "if we would have the kindness of others, we must endure their foibles." When she appeared, our friend the banker inquired, "when the Kirk was to be finished in the repairs now going on? "Tweel à wat," she replied, "'twill be some time yet, but sic a loss I hae suffered by it you'll no guess. I have na, she added, had a sacrament in our Kirk for the last four years, which has been a gae sair heart to me." The banker seemed to enter into her feelings with much kind sympathy, regretting, at same time, the loss which, to her, under her advanced years, must have been very painful; "but, Sir," she replied, "ye dinna seem to understand me: do you no ken, Sir, that I used to draw twelve or fifteen pounds at each sacramental occasion, for refreshments; but, for these four years, as I was saying, all that is lost." This again astounded us in our good opinion we had formed of our hostess, when we discovered that she calculated her loss not so much in the want of her sacramental duties, as in her loss by profession since the repairs on the Kirk had commenced. This led to a gentle remonstrance, when she immediately shut our mouths by assuring us, that they who are most faulty are the most prone to find fault with others. As it was evident we could make no impression on her mind, or give her views a more correct turn, as, from her volubility, she was of opinion with the poet, that

"If no basis bear my rising name"

But the fallen ruins of another's fame,

Then teach me, heaven, to scorn the guilty bays,
Drive from my breast that wretched lust of praise;
Unblemish'd let me live, or die unknown,

O, grant me honest fame-or grant me none.

we suggested her preparing tea ere we departed, to which she immediately directed her attention, and much to our satisfaction, and, on the banker paying our "bill," we bade her adieu, she expressing a desire of expecting again an early visit, which, of course, we promised. Our reflections, on returning homewards, were of a varied kind, and it was agreed that an account of our perambulation of the day might be hand

ed over for some other "Day," perhaps to the amusement of others, as it had certainly been to ourselves -that task was shouldered on me, which I have thus so feebly attempted.

MISCELLANEA.

HINDOO OPIUM EATER.-Narayn-das became celebrated for his strength and prowess. He was one of those undaunted Rajpoots who were absolutely strangers to the impression of fear, and it might be said of danger and himself, "that they were brothers whelped the same day, and he the elder.' Unfortunately, these qualities were rendered inert from the quantity of opium he took, which would have killed most men; for it is recorded "he could · at one time eat the weight of seven pice." The consequence of this vice, as might be expected, was a constant stupefaction, of which many anecdotes are related. Being called to aid the Rana Raemull, then attacked by the Pathans of Mandoo, he set out at the head of five hundred select Haras. On the first day's march, he was taking his siesta, after his usual dose, under a tree, his mouth wide open, into which the flies had unmolested ingress, when a young tailani came to draw water at the well, and, on learning that this was Boondi's prince on his way to aid the Rana in his distress, she observed, "If he gets no other aid than his, alas for my prince!" "The umuldar (opium eater) has quick ears, though no eyes," is a common addage in Rajwarra. "What is that you say, rand (widow)? roared the Rao, advancing to her. Upon her endeavouring to excuse herself, he observed, "do not fear, but repeat it." In her hand she had an iron crow-bar, which the Rao, taking it from her, twisted until the ends met round her neck. "Wear this garland for me," said he, " until I return from aiding the Rana, unless in the interim you can find some one strong enough to unbind it."

MUSICAL PNEMONICS.-A Highland piper having a scholar to teach, thus initiated him into a knowledge of semi-breves, minims, crotchets, and quavers:-" You see that fellow with the white round open face (pointing to a semi-breve, between the two lines of a bar) he moves slowly from that line to this, while you. beat one with your foot, and take a long blast. If you now put a leg to him, you make two of him, and he'll move twice as fast. If you blacken his face thus he'll run four times faster than the first fellow with the white face. And what think ye? After blackening his face thus, if you bend his knee, or tie his legs, he will hop you still eight times faster than the white-faced fellow I showed you first. Now, whenever you blow your pipes, Donald, remember this; the tighter those fellows legs are tied, the faster they will run, and the quicker they are sure to dance.

The following is a literal copy of a hand-bill, actually circulated. by a French emigrant in Philadelphia :

I, Jean de Meriou, bein trou nécessité oblige to teach la langue Françoise to de peuple, I be glad you send your childs, and I dwelle toder ind, Second Street. All my oder hour I make Sausage a Vend.

POETRY.

A TALE.

THUS, saith the Prophet of the Turk,
Let Musselmen beware of pork;
There is a part in every swine,
No follower, or friend of mine,
May taste, whate'er his inclination,
On pain of excommunication.
Such was Mahomet's mystic charge,
And thus he left the point at large.
Had he the sinful part exprest,
They might, with safety, eat the rest;
But, for one part they thought it hard,
From the whole hog to be debarred.
Much controversy, therefore, rose;
These chose the back, the shoulder those,
By some 'twas confidently said,
He meant not to forbid the head;
Whilst others at that doctrine rail,

And piously prefer the tail :

Thus conscience, freed from every clog,
Amongst them they ate up the hog.

You laugh-'tis well-the tale applied
May make you laugh the other side.
Renounce the world, the preacher cries:
We do, a multitude replies,

While one, as innocent regards
A song and friendly game at cards,
And some, whatever you can say,
Can see no evil in a play.

Some love a concert, ball, or race,
And others, shooting, or the chace :
Revil'd and bor'd, renounc'd and follow'd,
Thus, bit by bit, the world is swallow'd;
With sophistry their sauce they sweeten,
Till quite from tail to snout 'tis eaten.

COLLEGE ADVERTISEMENT OF THE YEAR 1713.

THE honourable and worthy persons who have been pleased to subscribe towards purchasing instruments to be used in philosophical experiments and observations in the University of Glasgow, are hereby advertised, that, on Tuesday the 20th of this instant, January, the Masters of the said University will be ready to wait on such of them as will come to the Room in the College of Glasgow, where the instruments are kept, and there to lay before them an account of the money disbursed, and shew them the instruments. Immediately after which, the course of experiments for this year will be begun; at which the subscribers, or those substituted by them, shall be made welcome, according to the University's proposal formerly printed.-Scots Courant, Monday, January 12,

1713.

TREE PUZZLE SOLVED.

To the Editor of THE DAY.

SIR, Plant three of the four trees in the equilateral triangle, and raise a mound in the centre, so as the height may be equal to the sides of the triangle, on which plant the fourth tree, and you will have them all at equal distances from each other.

As I have relieved G. from the trouble of solving the above, I request he will not think it too much labour to give his own solution of the Horse puzzle, as Suriac's is any thing but satisfactory. Yours, &c.

C. P.

MARIA MERRYTHOUGHT AND INVERARY.

To the Editor of THE DAY.

"The flowers appear upon the earth, The time of the singing bird is come,

And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land." SIR,-Nobody has enjoyed the winter that is past more than myself. I have seen and participated in every variety of entertainment, spectacle, and amusement. Mine car has been delighted with the "wood-notes, wild," of Mrs. Wood; and my soul has been charmed away by the magic strains of the great Paganini. I have floated in the voluptuous waltz, danced to the lively airs of France, and capered it nimbly to the animated strathspeys of Mr. Cunningham. I have read all the new and fashionable novels; and "The Day" has been my daily bread. I have, now and then, beguiled an evening at chess with papa, and played a rubber at whist, with my sweetheart for a partner. I have beheld all "the stars" that appeared in the hemisphere of our pretty little theatre. I have been at all sorts of parties. In short, bon Monsieur le jour, I chatted, laughed, danced, and sung until this delightful weather came and all its beauty, and made me exclaim, "what are all these joys to me," compared with a two months' residence amid the grand and beauteous scenery of the Highlands. I'm all impatience to be out of the town-I cannot look upon the green tinge of the hedges and trees in the suburbs, and listen to the carroling of the birds, without wishing I were one of them, that I might flee away to some fairy glen, and kiss the first wild flower I met. Ma and I are very anxious that Pa would fix his tent, for the season, at Inverary, but he would not hear of it says it is far too distanttoo inconvenient for people in business-I hate that word "business." The unknown-tongue-people frightened him away from Helensburgh, and now he'll go no where but either to Innerkip or Largs. We are heartily tired of these places, indeed, I may say, of all that coast. O, Inverary! Inverary! how I do love thee! What splendid walks-what gorgeous trees-and, then a drive a few Highland miles, in any direction, carries one into scenes of such grandeur and solitude. Dear Mr. Day, as you are acquainted with my father, I really wish you would advise him to go to Inverary. One word from you, to him, would be worth a thousand from us. If he says anything about a young laird in that quarter, don't believe him. The young gentleman, to be sure, was very attentive to me at the last assembly-danced with me twice-asked me if I would like to live in the Highlands -and talked some nonsense about my "arm of snow," and my voice being "like the music of song;" but, surely, Sir Day, that does not evince that he was in love with me, or that I was in love with him-does it?—Yours,

MARIA MERRYTHOUGHT. (Miss Marryme that was) has never written to me yet-ma foi! c'est bien, drole!

P.S-Mrs.

ODDS AND ENDS.

GREENWICH AND CHELSEA HOSPITALS.-The very prisons in England are palaces exteriorly; the establishment of their hospitals and penitentiaries are quite royal, with nurses, physicians, committees, lecturers, &c. Two of these noble charities I cannot forbear mentioning, on account of their fine situations and princely origin; they are for decayed soldiers and seamen, and were endowed by King Charles the Second, at the suggestion of his mistress, Nell Gwynne; which good deed, together with her freedom from envy, avarice, and ill-temper, may plead in extenuation of her frailty. Chelsea College is a handsome building of red brick, with a colonnade on the side, looking towards the beautiful river Thames, which, at this part is broad, and handsome, in the extreme but, Greenwich Hospital is a still more magnificent building, and even more finely situated, being pitched in the midst of a noble park on this river's side, and was formerly a palace, belonging to the Protector of England, Duke Humphrey; afterwards a royal residence, in which Queen Elizabeth much delighted, and celebrated as the scene of Sir Walter Raleigh's gallant and politic prostration of his rich velvet cloak, for the preservation of her august Majesty's slipper, from contact with vulgar earth and water. In these pleasant retreats, it is delightful to contemplate the groups of veteran warriors reposing under the shade of their hard-earned laurels, where, free from every fear of poverty in their old age, they may set care at defiance, laugh and quaff, fight all their battles over again, and merrily enjoy what of life remains to them. There is a marked difference in the character of these two classes of men, which is more apparent, I suspect, in England, than in any other country. The soldier is always something of a beau; it is part of his professional duty to appear on parade neat and trim, his arms burnished, accoutrements complete, carriage erect, eyes, hands, and feet moving only by word of command. Not so the sailor; his costume is slack, his limbs active as a rope-dancer's, his feet are planted wide, and his rolling gait resembles the first outset of his national darling hornpipe. This marked difference maintains even in these retirements; the Chelsea pensioner looks thin, upright, and still at drill; the Greenwich veteran square-shouldered and bronze-faced, cocks his hat humorously, smiles knowingly, and looks secure that he is snug in harbour for life.

:

MERMAID. Christopher Colon affirms, that at Isabella Bay in San Domingo, he saw three Mermaids, which raised themselves far above the water; that they are not so handsome as in painting that they had something like a human face, and that he had seen others on the coast of Guinea. A naval officer (J. E.) was informed by the master of his Majesty's ship, Julia, that the negroes of Surinam had declared unto him, that they frequently saw mermaids on the banks of that river, far above the settlements, relating that they had never discovered any by daylight, but always during the bright moonlight; that when they emerge from the water, they commence a peculiar cry, not unlike the voice of a female in distress; and that at the least noise they plunge into the water again.

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.

"THE RULING PASSION" to-morrow.

"Parting Address to the Students" will not suit us.

No communications will be received except the Postage be paid: they must, also, be addressed "To the Editor," and not the Publisher.

Advertisements.

TOLET, FURNISHED, for 6 or 12 Months, that SELF

CONTAINED LODGING, No. 16, ST. VINCENT STREET, lately possessed by Wm. White, Esq. consisting of Dining and Drawing Rooms, five Bed-rooms, with Kitchen and Servants' Rooms in the Ground Floor.-Entry immediately.

The Furniture, including Bed and Table Napery, China, Crystal, &c. and comprehending every article requisite for a Genteel Family, is elegant and substantial.

Apply to GILMOUR & HALL, 63, Miller Street.

TR

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Apply to Mr. M'FIE, Writer, Rothesay, or the PROPRIETOR, 13, Stockwell Place.

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PRINTED BY JOHN GRAHAM, MELVILLE place.

GLEANINGS OF "THE FORTY-FIVE,” NOT HITHERTO PUBLISHED.

ALTHOUGH much has been written on the subject of the rebellion of 1745, and a great mass of materials, accumulated for the use of the future historian, by writers possessing not only talents, and the requisite spirit of research, but who had also access to very ample sources of information, yet, when it is considered how many thousands were engaged in the struggle, every one of whom had his own individual experience of the perils and hardships of that romantic adventure, it will not appear surprising, if there still exist among the glens and corries of the Highlands, much traditional narrative and other matter, which may have hitherto escaped the most industrious of our collectors. That the outline of the occurrences, we are already possessed of, is sufficiently voluminous for all the purposes of the mere common-place reader may be readily admitted; but, by those who take pleasure in examining the substratum of a nation's history, the minor details preserved by the inferior agents or actors in any of its great dramas, will always be regarded with peculiar interest, and, to seize and preserve the fleeting memorials of receding events, before they have become. irrecoverably involved in the mist of antiquity, will not, by such readers, be considered as altogether unprofitable labour.

Previous to the landing of Charles, our writers have given little or no information regarding the feelings and movements of the Highlanders, while waiting in expectation of the promised descent. It is, nevertheless, true, that various clans made certain demonstrations of their hostile intentions towards the existing government, and so early as August, 1744, rumours were afloat, of arms having been secretly landed in Lochfyne. Notice to this effect having reached Archibald Campbell, Esq. of Stonefield, Sheriff-Deputy of Argyleshire, an investigation was set on foot; but, so much prudence had been exercised in the affair, that no satisfactory proof could be obtained. The suspicions of the Sheriff were, however, awakened, and, in the following extract, taken from a letter addressed by him, to the Duke of Argyle, the reader may find sufficient evidence, that an extensive and well-organized insurrection was, in a great measure, formed before the Prince made his appearance; and the knowledge of this circumstance, with, perhaps, an over-rated account of its extent, might have the more easily induced him to venture on his hazardous enterprise with the slender means he possessed. "As the fact," says Mr. Campbell, speaking of the reported landing of arms at Lochfyne, "appeared improbable, I despaired of further discoveries, yet, thought it right to trace it all the length I could; at last it came into my head to write to a friend at Glasgow, to know if any arms were bought there for this country, and by whom. After some weeks, my friend returned for answer, that the Laird of M'Lachlan had commissioned a hundred broad-swords there-that, after they were made, the armourer happened to meet a gentleman that resides in M'Lachlan's neighbourhood, and desired him, upon his return to the country, to acquaint M'Lachlan, that the swords he had commissioned were ready, and that he might send for them. Some time

after this, a man came to the armourer, who told him that he was come express, from M'Lachlan, to let him know that he was provided from Ireland, with his compliment of swords, and an equal number of firelocks, and much cheaper. When the gentleman delivered his message from the armourer, M'Lachlan said he had some project of trade in view, when he commissioned these arms. Whether M'Lachlan judged it dangerous to take the arms, since his commissioning was discovered, or was truely served with them from Ireland, is uncertain, though I rather think the last more probable, as there was a surmise of arms being brought into the country, and from other circumstances, that shall be mentioned by-and-by: How soon I received my friend's return from Glasgow, I thought it were proper to lay the matter before some of the Deputy-Lieutenants, (most of them were absent from the shire at the time, as Ardkinglass, Lochnell, Inverraw, Carrick, and Skipness,) to consider if it was expedient to search for arms, in terms of the Act I, George first, entitled Act encouraging Superiors and Vassals in Scotland,' and the other act of the late King, Im. Anno, for the Effectually Securing the Peace of the Highlands,' believing these two acts to be still in their full force, though the disarming Act, in 1725, is expired, being only temporary. Some of the Deputy Lieutenants imagined that the disarming acts were of no force, now that such was the opinion of all the Highland counties to the northward, and that arms while carried openly, even in the view of the military, and that the officers of the army had doubts about it. They likewise thought it expedient to wait to see if more pregnant proofs would cast up, least M'Lachlan should have room to complain that he was treated in a singular manner, and that warrants were given out without any real cause, nor was it proper to grant warrants unless they were made effectual, which could not be done without a body of men well appointed with arms, and that an attempt of this kind without success, would rather contribute to lessen the authority of the Lieutenants, and that though we had arms to give to a party of men, yet the attempt might misgive, if he refused to give admittance, as he resides in a strong old castle. I told them if he refused admittance or opposed, he would be liable to the penalty, and that the government might take some further course with him. But, as doubts were started to the laws, it was thought best to have them first removed, and in the meantime, to employ some trusty person to watch over his conduct, which was accordingly done, and I wrote to Edinburgh to know people's opinion as to the law. My answer was not so satisfactory as I expected. The lawyer who was spoke to, on the head, fancied all the laws for disarming were of no more force. As I am now obliged to go to town, I find it more necessary to advise lawyers more deliberately upon the disarming acts, or searching for arms, for the reasons following: -I am of late informed, that he (M'Lachlan) has made some targets, and I am also informed, from another hand, that M'Lachlan has been at Paris and Rome within these eighteen months. For some time he has been in a course of trade to Ireland or the Isle of Man, and might be in foreign parts without being much missed. I am advised that the M'Leans were much elevated last summer by some letters or messages