return was settled by an English Ministry.

He was invited to England and there caressed, and escorted by British ships to the revolted land; and, even after the reins of Government were put into his hands as Constitutional Regent, as soon he began to shew the cloven foot. The Patriots, alarmed, would have seized him, but for the support of a British Ambassador, who declared, that the British army, then in Lisbon, would protect him.

The details of this transaction would encroach upon the limits of " THE DAY;" but they will be found fully recorded in a book, "The Last Days of the Portuguese Constitution," published by Lord Porchester, who was not only an eye witness, but a party to the explanations which took place.

A baser conspiracy against a country's rights was never planned than that which has been described, and those who did all this in the name of the British nation, are the men who now in parliament advocate the cause of their protegée, and would construe into unwarranted intervention, the slightest sympathy shewn by their successors, for a cause as just as any in the annals of history.

THE NEW EXCHANGE.

"Where Merchants most do congregate."

We should consider ourselves altogether unworthy of " the large space we occupy in the public eye," did we not occasionally, in our own mild and gentlemanly way, discuss subjects, the decision of which may involve the character of our city for good, bad, or indifferent taste.

On such occasions, we shall be found as independent of party feeling, as we shall be careless of the mere authority of names; and, guided by the safeguards of principle and example, we shall candidly offer our opinion for the adoption or rejection of our fellowcitizens, as they shall consider best.

The question which we now propose to discuss is, simply, whether the handsome inclosure, or iron railing, which now bounds the sunk area on the north, west, and south sides of the New Exchange, in Queen Street, shall be continued around the open por.. tico at the east front of that building?

What light do the classical works of antiquity afford upon this subject?

The public buildings of the Greeks and Romans-the Gymnasium and the Basilica, the Palaestra, the Temples, and the Thermæ of the ancients-were generally surrounded by an open area, of greater or smaller extent, as circumstances or situation permitted; the building itself, standing upon a solid podium or basement, more or less elevated above the ground of the surrounding area, upon which, and opposite the pronaos, or front portico, sculpture was frequently placed, and occasionally votive and sacrificial altars; the latter only, from their sacred character, being sometimes fenced around, and thus, as it were, standing insulated in the open space. The locality of the Acropolis was fenced with olive trees, and fortified with a strong wall; whilst within it stood the Parthenon and the other temples. The term fortified is important-the walls of the Acropolis, or citadel of Athens, being evidently reared for the purposes of defence.

The general use of iron railing, and similar barriers, seems rather an introduction of feudal than of classical times, agreeing better with the exclusiveness of modern habits, than with the genius of an age, when the object of conquest was to possess the means of constructing such places for gratuitous public resort, as would propitiate that mighty influence which proclaimed

"Vox populi, vox Dei."

Of" modern instances" we have abundance of examples on both sides; and, for this cause, we avoid alluding to any of them. We shall therefore confine ourselves to the original question.

It will be allowed by every person competent to form an opinion, that the east façade of the New Exchange is perfect in its proportions, and, as considered in itself, it is, in every respect, what we are entitled to expect from the acknowledged talents of its architect.

From circumstances however, which could not be avoided, it is uncommonly low. We do not mean from its base to its apex, but from the ground to the base of the columns.

The effect, from Ingram Street, of a railing in front, will be to induce the spectator to believe that the base of the column is lower than it really is; because the eye will lose the perspec

tive of the base line in front, and thus, in some situations without, the columns will seem to spring from the top of the railing, or, as he may imagine, from the ground at the level upon which he stands; and thus the lower portion of the shaft being obscured to the eye, the beautiful proportions of the pillars will inevitably be destroyed.

The effect from Ingram Street, should the plan of inclosing be adopted, will be that of restraint; or, to use an expressive word, cageing, sufficiently illustrated by the effects of the enclosure around St. Andrew's church.

Had the Exchange been a church, in a different situation and under different circumstances, only occupied once in seven days, and, consequently, altogether unprotected, and exposed to unhal lowed depredations, then, although the effect of a railing would have been the same, still it might have been supposed allowable. But when, at least, six days in seven it is thronged by our Princely Merchants, constantly visited by strangers, and at all times forming the great commercial resort of Scottish wealth and enterprise, were the railing system adopted there would be an unhappy jarring betwixt its appearance and its purposes; and we think that our merchants, whose unfettered enterprise embraces all quarters of the globe, would be inappropriately situated within such a boundary; satirizing, as it were, their pur. suits, and continually reminding them of John Bunyan's two pilgrims imprisoned in an iron cage at Vanity Fair.

What, then, ought to be done? We recommend, that the present railing should terminate with the cella, or body of the building, by returning it at a right angle against the side walls, nearly in a line with the front wall of the building; thus leaving its noble portico entirely free and unobstructed, and also affording con, venient access to the Exchange, from every quarter from whence it may be approached.

Glasgow, W. R. M'Phun. 1832.

OUR accomplished townsman, Mr. MacNish, has presented the public with a new edition of this interesting work. We may say, that it makes its appearance at a time when it ought to be peculiarly acceptable, as the vice, which it is one of the best instruments for correcting, is now become a greater subject of alarm than ever. The connexion between Cholera Morbus and and an addiction to spirits has been so well established, that the latter ought always to be guarded against as a cause of the former; and Mr. MacNish's book, as it is a preservative against the one, may, therefore, be regarded as a preservative against both. It is impossible for any professed bacchanalian to glance at the long list of terrific consequences which ensue from habits of intoxication;-diseases of the brain-of the stomach or of the liver-hysteria, delirium tremens, and self-combustion—without comparing them with the appalling symptoms of the spasmodic disease which the London Board of Health lately promulgated in such awful terms--suspended pulsation, pinched extremities, and blue countenance. question, indeed, if any drunkard ever read Mac Nish's Anatomy, without feeling serious qualms, and forming the resolution to abandon the intemperate use of liquor. But the mischief is, that drunkards are afraid to read it, or wont read it; and we therefore think, that Temperance Societies would do more to accomplish their end by making this their text-book, than by any moral exhortation which they can compose. By the way, there are some very judicious Remarks on Temperance Societies contained in this edition of the Work before us, besides many improvements which recommend it to the particular favour of the public,

We

GLASGOW GOSSIP.

Ar a dinner party which took place lately in Glasgow, and where among others, a few of the Town- Council were present, the conversation happened to turn upon the subject of the City ARMS. A popular gentleman, who stands high in the Council and in the estimation of his fellow-citizens, remarked "that it was rather extraordinary that the City of Glasgow Arms had no supporters, while so many other towns in Scotland of far less importance, can boast of them." Why it does seem strange," responded immediately one of the company, "and I need hardly add that the sooner the city can get them the better, since the corporation never stood in more need of them!"

WEST COUNTRY REMINISCENCES.

EVERY one who is deeply read in the annals of the bottle is well acquainted with the famous galraviches of the Kilpatrick Lairds, and, especially, on the night when they congregated to have a "pooring" over certain parish business in the wee clachan of Law, and, when one of them, about the morning's dawn, fixing his eye on the Laird of Garscadden, remarked, that he was looking unco gash, and to which Kilmerdinny coolly replied, "Deil mean him, since he's been wi' his Maker these twa hours-I saw him slip awa' but I didna like to disturb good fellowship." But there are few, perhaps, who know much more about the Laird. Now, we happen to have received, from a valued correspondent, the Epitaph of that celebrated bacchanalian, and, although it indicates that he was in no great odour among his neighbours, we present it to our readers :—

Beneath this stane lies auld Garscad,
Wha loved a neebour very bad.

Now, how he fends, and how he fares,
The deil ane kens, and as few cares.

As we are in the way of giving Epitaphs to-day, perhaps we cannot do better than add the following, which catches the eye of every one who chooses to examine the gravestones of a neighbouring Scottish Burgh :

THE First Part of a new and important work is announced to appear, under the editorship of Drs. FORBES, TWEEDIE, and CONNOLLY, entitled the Cyclopædia of Practical Medicine; comprising Treatises on the Nature and Treatment of Diseases, Materia Medica, Therapeutics, Medical Jurisprudence, &c.

An enlarged, improved, and corrected edition, (being the seventh,) of the "Cabinet Lawyer," is in the Press, including all the recent legal alterations.

On the first of February will be published, to be continued in Weekly Numbers and Monthly Parts, "Pierce Egan's Book of Sports, and Mirror of Life;" dedicated to George Osbaldiston, Esq.

MISCELLANEA.

ANATOMY OF A BALL.-It is a fact, as melancholy for the historian as it is true, that though balls are very important events in a young lady's career, there is exceedingly little to be said about them; they are pleasures all on the same pattern,-the history of one is the history of all. You dress with a square glass before you, and a long glass behind you; your hair trusts to its own brown or black attractions, either curled or braided, or you put on a wreath, a bunch of flowers, or a pearl bandeau; your dress is gauze, crape, lace, or muslin, either white, pink, blue, or yellow; you shower, like April, an odorous rain on your handkerchief; you put on your shawl, and step into the carriage; you stop in some street or square; your footman raps as long as he can; you are some time going up stairs; you hear your name, or something like it, leading the way before you. As many drawing-rooms are thrown open as the house will allow,--they are lighted with lamps or wax-lights; there is a certain quantity of china, and a certain number of exotics; also a gay-looking crowd, from which the hostess emerges, and declares she is very glad to see you. You pass on; you sit a little while on a sofa ; a tall or a short gentleman asks you to dance, to this you reply, that you will be very happy; you take his arm and walk to the quadrille or waltz; a succession of partners. Then comes supper; you have a small piece of fowl, and a thin slice of ham, perhaps some jelly or a few grapes,-a glass of white wine, or ponche à la romaine. Your partners have asked you if you have been to the opera; in return, you question them if they have been to the Park. Perhaps a remark is hazarded on Miss Fanny Kemble. If you are a step more intimate, a few disparaging observations are made on the entertainment and the guests. Some cavalier hands you down stairs; you re-cloak

and re-enter the carriage, with the comfortable reflection, that as you have been seen at Mrs. So-and-so's ball, Mrs. Such-a-one may ask you to hers.-Miss Landon's Romance and Reality. PETTICOATS AT A PREMIUM.-A journal, printed in the State of Alabama, asserts, that a most deplorable and alarming scarcity of young ladies exist in that quarter of the globe. The young men are a hundred to one of the fair sex; and every respectable female found there, native or stranger, is as soon as possible hurried to the hymeneal altar. What a capital spec. Alabama Bonds would be in the market-if this be not all-a-bam.]

Marriage is like money-seem to want it and you never get it. -Miss Landon's New Musical Instrument.

BESSIERES.-The Colonel for he had then no higher rank, became att his period one of Junot's friends. Of the same age as his comrades, he was taller than Lannes, and like him, he was from the south, of which his accent left no doubt. He had good teeth, squinted a little, but not disagreeably so, and his appearance rather pleasing than otherwise; but, like Lannes, he had the mania of wearing powder. The difference in their coëffure was in the cut of the hair, which in Bessieres fell in a small dog's ears on each side of the head, and a long and thin tail à la prussienne replaced the cadogan worn by Lannes. He was then, jointly with Eugene Beauharnois, colonel of the guides, or chasseurs à cheval of the consular guard. They lived together, and report. says, that they were fond of all the joys that fortune and youth can procure.-Duchess of Abrantes.

MR. MURRAY, the chemist, in his book on pulmonary consumption, tells us that Mr. David Badham has set to music, the palpitations and irregular beating of the diseased heart, of a female patient in the Royal Infirmary of Glasgow. It forms a pathological waltz. Dr. Johnson observes, that the bars, crotchets, quivers and demi-quivers, are carefully arranged, and form one of the greatest curiosities in morbid anatomy, that was ever witnessed. This is certainly bringing a bad heart to good account. The poor lady little thought what kind of overtures the Doctor was making, when she gave him her hand to feel, and permitted him to lay his head on her bosom, to listen.-New Monthly Magazine.

MEMOIRS OF A PAISLEY BAILLIE.

OF A RATIONAL AND REFLECTING PUBLIC.

The packet was addressed "Mr. Every Day, Esq. Glasgow," and the stout wrapper of calendar paper in which it was carefully swaddled, had these precious directions:-" with care and dispatch" on one corner, "and be sure to deliver on arrival" on the other. The erudite Mr. Pirnie must have been grievously alarmed at our silence respecting his valuable labours; but the truth is, they could not be examined much sooner, though we had had as many eyes as Argus, and as many heads as we have fingers and toes, which, we believe are now only nineteen in number, having in our younger years lost a finger, volunteering.

Of Mr. Peter Pirnie's sober thoughts, (he surely is president of some Temperance Society) we cannot well, even yet, deliver an opinion, nor can we pledge ourselves further than from time to time to transfer such portions of his volume to our columns, as, in our opinion, have some claims upon the attention of a "Rational and Reflecting Public." He is, with grief we confess it, somewhat too prosy and circumlocutory for this smart age; but, in so essential a particular as style, we never like to take any very extraordinary liberties, more especially as our worthy and dignified contributor has, in a postscript to " a letter of directions," informed us that we are welcome to his "leeterary effusions, free gratis, for nothing," and having retired from business, he does not expect to realize any thing from the manufacturing of books.

We wish our one thousand and one sharp wits who write for the "DAY" were equally considerate and obliging. But no-if they possess the cleverness of eels in the use of their pens, they at same time possess the rapacity of sharks in their demands upon our exchequer. Let that pass however, and now for a concluding word to our Paisley Baillie, who, in the evening of his days, has devoted himself to the cultivation of polite letters. We cannot promise to our valued correspondent that we shall publish all his "Thoughts on Men and Things," nor even publish them in the order in which his wisdom has arranged them. From his work we shall select only what suits our own purpose, and pleases our own fancy. This to be the rule hereafter; but, for the present, we think it no more than an act of justice, as well as of common civility, to give Mr. Pirnie's opening chapter:-Our readers will perceive that he, like every other sensible man, has a very elevated opinion of himself.

CHAPTER I.

Some of the Reasons which induced me, Mr. Peter Pirnie, Baillie, &c. &c. &c. to commit my Thochts to Paper. THERE will, no doubt, be an uncommon clatter amang the Corks of the Causeyside, as weel as upon the plainstanes at the Corse, and amang all the members of the pap-in clubs that forgather in the Water-Wynd, now called St. Mirren Street, or in the Towns-House, where the Baillies and other ostensible and sponsible persons meet at orra times to weet their whistle, when it is known and understood that I have tane pen in hand to write my ain life, and to enlichten all and sindry anent my manifold experiences of men and things, seasoned with suitable reflections upon passing occurrents. I am as sure, as I have a head on my twa shouthers, that though the Sneddon Brig had faun down likea rickle dyke intil the Cart, (and that's no that unlikely-for its sair bursten in the wame,) or the haill shipping of the toun, including the wee steamer and the big luggage-boat that plies between the Sklait quay and the water neb, had been wrecked past redemption; sic awfu' calamities could not mak' a greater stir, nor set mair idle feet a-ganging, or mair souple tongues a-wagging, than the fack of me writing a book with my ain individual hands, and getting it set furth in print for the behoof of a discerning public. But, stir here, or stir there, my mind is made up; and, like Earl Grey, I will noo declare, that I mean to stand or fall by my Bill. It's clean ayont the power of mortal man to change my resolution after it has been ance tane. The Cart may as weel think to ding doun the Hamel's Head in a spate, as for freend or foe to drive me out of my ain opingyon; for the fack is, it has ay been allowit, at the Quarter Sessions or in the Police Court, that when I was a Bailie, and a J. P. ex officio, I was as douce as I was dour, and would have a mind of my ain, come of the lave of the Court what likeit. And sic stubbornness in upricht thinking and honest action stands to pure reason; for it is a very remarkable, but certain fack, that in every plea where I was ower-ruled by numbers, as was no that unfrequent, yet, when it was appealed to another and superior tribunal—sic as the Lords of Session, the Barons of Exchequer, or, aiblins baith Houses of Parliament-it was commonly found by their judgments that Bailie Pirnie was straucht as a plumb-line in his notions, and the lave of the Justices as thrawn as a cow widdy. The whilk it would be the heicht of hypocrisy to conceal, was unco welcome for me to hear in the club whenever the thing became causey-talk; as the feck of things, whether great or small, are sure soon to be in our intellectual community. A hen winna break its leg in fleeing down fra its baulk; but we are sure to hear tell of the accident next morning at the Corse, as weel as whether it was a good layer or no. But I dinna mention thir things out of vanity, but just to make apparent, to the meanest understanding, that I am perfectly correck in my notions anent undertaking to write my ain life.

I ken that it will be objeckit by some of our wise folks in the West, that, for a man to speak of his ain havins, is naething better than stark vanity; but it must be allowit, on the other hand, that though it be vanity, it's natural for us to rooze oursells, and furthermore, it is to be observed, that the number is unco few that prefer to hide their candle aneth the bushel in place of stick. ing it abune it, where it may appear as a burning and a shining licht in the eyes of all men. From these observes it will be seen, that I am an outspoken and hamely free aff-hand kind of a man, caring neither for good report nor bad report, sobeit that my conscience is satisfied of the richteousness of its motives, and the cleanness of the actions, whereby thir motives were brocht to

Wherefore I can

bear upon the grand concernments of social life. easily find an apology for now and then saying a good word for mysell when I deserve it, and my warst enemy, if I have an enemy at all in this world, I am sure will neither, afore my face nor ahint my back, daur to say, or insinuate, that I ever took mair credit than I was fully enteetlit to tak for honest deeds done and performed, without fee or reward, as we Baillies say when we purge witnesses at a proof, and put them upon their great aith, whilk is a very solemn proceeding, and has a grand effeck in a court of justice.

But, to continue the threed of my argument, I am obligated further to remark, that naebody, man, woman, or wean, can say, or allege, that I ever socht, in the lang course of my useful and busy life, to rooze mysell and my actions at the expense of my neibours. Backbiters and sicklike garbage of humanity, I hold in great detestation. They think, puir born fules that they are, that, by pulling anither doun, they will rise themsells. They may be as illdeedy as a twa hornit deel, and yet, after all, they are but sumphs and gomerils. A backbiter or cat witted creature, that spends his time in picking out and railing against the faults and frailties of others, may jalouse that, by spitting upon their character, he is bigging up a bonny bield of goodly thochts for himsell in the minds of his hearers, but he is out of his reckoning as far as ever Captain Parry was when he thocht to tumble the wulcat at the North Pole. They will, no doubt, hear the body till an end, and some, nay I may say a good wheen, will relish his sklander, (for, after all, man's heart is desperately wicket and naturally a gayen black ill-faured concern, when it's no thoroughly purified thro' the soul-searching influence of religion and godly conversation,) but nevertheless, and notwithstanding, 'they never can, nor will like the sklaunderer. He'll aye be suspecket and keepit at arms-length. Sweet is the treason, but foul is the traitor. The backbiter is like a leper, he has aye a clapper to warn others of his infection, and that is, his ain ill scrapit and venomous tongue. Now, we have just put down this bit caveat for the good of the Ettercaps, that will be clishmaclavering and shooting out their tongue and winking with their ae e'e and scartin their nebs with their forefinger as if it youkit, and thrawin' their mouths as if they were gaun to tak' a dose of salts, when they behold that I have turned author in earnest, and in the course of the narrative of my moral campaign may have occasion to say, this I said, and this I did, and so it even fell out as I said it would do, and as every individual of sense must have foreseen, had he been similarly situated and enjoyed the same opportunities as me Mr. Peter Pirnie, Baillie and what not, had of judging correckly of the incomings and outgoings and ongoings of men and things in general, and particular, in public and private life. But one must lay his account with receiving very indifferent treatment at the hands of the unthinking and the malicious, and learn to put up with much injurious misconstruction, especially if like me or a Minister of State, he has had great public duties entrusted to his care and guidance. When I was in the Magistracy at a very troublous time, I was sair fashit with the dounricht lies that were told against me, but I had just to put a stout heart to a stey brae, and do my duty, in spite of man or deevil. Hech, Sirs, what an awsum weight of duty and dignity is sometimes laid upon the head and shouthers of ane efficient Magistrate in perilous times! But on this point I have a word or twa to say when in due course of time and of nature I was eleckit a Baillie, and took upon me the discharge of the duties thereunto effeiring, as the Town Clerk said when he clapt a cocked hat for the first time on my beld pow, and, shaking me by the neive, added, that I was the fountain of all justice and a ruler in the land, which was naething mair than a simple condescendence of facks.

THE DAY VICE THE EDINBURGH LITERARY

JOURNAL.

We have lately received some very flattering letters from different quarters, complimenting us upon the success of our paper. These, of course, have been extremely grateful to our feelings, but a circumstance, which has tended more than anything else to encourgae us in our undertaking, is the ruin which our appearance has

occasioned to a number of competitors. If anything could make us vain of our success, it would be that, while our daily paper of literature, fashion and fine arts, has already obtained, and is constantly extending a circulation which our fondest hopes could not have anticipated, our weekly contemporary, which occupies the same department in the Scottish capital, is obliged to retire from the walk which we are pursuing, and to attach itself, for security, to a Political Newspaper. The Edinburgh Literary Journal was formerly the Scottish prototype of the London Literary Gazette, but it has now announced, that, from inability to prolong its existence in a separate state, it is henceforth to be incorporated with "THE EdinBURGH WEEKLY CHRONICLE." Whether this failure is to be attributed to the respectable subscription list, which our paper has obtained both in Edinburgh and Glasgow, or whether it has arisen from the circumstance, of our pages opening a more convenient receptacle for the talents of writers in this part of the country, who constituted no insignificant support of our quondam rival; it is at least certain, that The " DAY" has now the merit of sustaining alone, the character of the Northern Periodical Press in its particular line, and is able to entitle itself, not merely the only daily paper, but the only purely Literary Journal in Scotland.

This is a proud distinction for a paper which has been little more than a fortnight before the public, but it is only one among many proofs which we have received, that the public are looking with an indulgent eye upon our efforts to contribute to their amusement. It is a remarkable fact, that since our labours commenced, no less than three Periodicals in this town have struck their colours. The Literary Cabinet has been smothered beneath our competition; The Thistle, through terror of our censure, has ceased to innoculate the public with its scurilities, and The Germ has not ventured to push a second number into comparison with any of ours. Besides these, there are no doubt a few publications,

of different sorts, which still offer themselves as literary treats to unsuspecting purchasers among our townsmen; but these, as a correspondent remarks, contain in general nothing original except the day of the month, and the notices to correspondents; and we cannot in justice, either to ourselves or to them, regard them as rivals in our department,

We have uot mentioned other organs of criticism and the belles lettres, which claim the support of the public in a higher line, not only because we are unwilling to place them in connection with the paltry productions to which we have just attended, but because we do not conceive that our circulation, will in the least interfere with theirs. Magazines and Monthly Reviews, we honestly confess, are above our mark, and the only paper which claims to be called a Scottish Literary Gazette, viz.-The Edinburgh Evening Post, though marked by great ability, only pretends to justify its cognomen in the department of criticism. In fact, The "DAY" is now the only supplement of general literature which either Edinburgh or Glasgow can boast of, and as it has been by its own endeavours that it has acquired this title, so it will be in future conducted with such activity and care, as it is hoped, will render it deserving of the favour which it has experienced. Its criticisms will be only exercised on such books as merit the marked approbation or disapprobation of impartial readers, and they will be conducted as heretofore, without serving the interest of any advertisement, or the party of any publisher. It will keep up its character for originality, by preserving the labours of gentlemen, already known to the world in the capacity of authors, and it will secure a channel that can be depended on, for receiving intelligence from the principal Seats of Scottish Literature. With these recommendations, The " DAY” only requests of the public a continuance of their past favours, and it asssures them, that these will be sufficient to make it suit its exertions to the higher station, which by their indulgence, it has come to occupy.

MUSICAL INTELLIGENCE, MEYERBEER'S OPEEA, Robert le Diable,' the scramble for which ended in favour of Mr. Mason, the lessee of the Italian Opera House, is, nevertheless, about to be produced somehow at Drury Lane and the Adelphi. Should it prove successful, we suppose that, as in the the case of Der Freischutz,' the other houses will follow with it; and then the majors and minors, who have long been trying to play the devil with one another, will all be playing the Devil together.-Athenæum.

THE "SCOTSMAN'S" OPINION OF

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

IN a late Number of that Journal, the following criticism appeared on Sir WALTER SCOTT as a Novel writer, which we have much pleasure in transferring to our columns :

"It will scarcely be denied by any one who is acquainted with the literature of Europe, that in the history of fictitious writing, there never was an individual whose works produced so boundless an influence upon the hearts and minds of the whole world, as those by the Author of Waverley. From the days of Smollett and Fielding, till those of Scott, the field of English fiction had been occupied by writers of the most ordinary talent-individuals who wrote, but who wrote not to the hearts of their fellow-men, for how could they when they spoke not the language which nature dictated? With them, Romance was the opiate dream of a mind governed by the freaks of Fate and the gloom of Superstition-the bugbear of children, and the solace of fools. With them, a Novel was a tissue of mawkish sentimentality or maudlin melancholy-a collection of caricatures of society as outrè in their outline, as they were absurd in their up-filling, while a Tale was nothing more than the untoward story of two love-sick swains, with whose sorrows or with whose feelings the world at large could feel no sympathy. In this species of literature it seemed absolutely necessary that the beau ideal of perfection should belong to every hero, and the beau ideal of angelic purity to every heroine; but though both generally boasted of this beauty of the statue, they had, alas! its coldness also. The world was weary gazing on what was altogether imaginary. It longed for something in sympathy with every-day feeling and observation. It yearned for material of a heartier and of a more expressive kiud than it, had for years possessed. And, perhaps, we are not saying too much, when we state, that Sir Walter Scott discovered, and gave the desideratum to his country and the world. True it is, that when Waverley appeared, it seized the hearts of all men, and from its popularity and influence upon literature, seemed to utter the very language which men every where felt eager, but knew not how to express.

"In the novels of Scott, we find their author invariably casting his eye back upon the past with a melancholy fondness. There he found materials with which every heart could sympathize; for they touched a chord of historical association to which every heart responded. The prosaic common places of the present hour he exchanged for the glorious fancies which spring from the contemplation of Eld. In thus seeking out a period of past history for his imagination to revel in, Scott read a lesson to the world, that in Eld lay a mine from which the mind of man might extract valuable ore for ever, and upon which the fancy of man might ceaselessly speculate; and men in England, and throughout every land that boasts a national literature, listened to his voice with delight, and followed his example.

"Sir W. Scott, while by his own writings he acquired a European reputation, has, in fact, also created every where a new school of novel, tale, and romance composition. By leading the literary eye to the mysteries of antiquity, and showing the rich materials which lie hid among the dust and the cobwebs of departed centuries, he has had the honour of being the parent of that ianumerable progeny of chivalrous tales which eke out the modern multitudinous fictions of Germany-the late feudal novels of France the middle-age romances, which have lately characterized the almost extinct literary energies of Italy-and, in fine, the graphic fictions of the Indian's past story, which have emanated, and are still emanating from the infant, but prolific press of America. At this moment, the fictions of the Author of Waverley may be justly said to be the property of the world; and the heroes of his imagination are as well known by those who live on the banks of the Elbe, the Seine, and the Arno, as they are over the land that is watered by the Thames or the Tay. In Germany, for example, we were told by Dr. Menzel, that there are no fewer than five different translations of Scott's collected novels, besides innumerable translations of individual tales; and that of the former, or "Sammtliche Werke," there had not been fewer than thirty thousand copies sold. In France, the "Contes de mon Hôte," in spite of such singularities as "a Stickit Minister being traduced un Pretre assasine," are the talk of every fashionable saloon. While in Italy, the fate of Fergus M'Ivor, on the one hand, and the filial affection of Rebecca, on the other, divide, with the modern fictions of Manzoni, Rosini, and Bazzoni, the luxurious idlesse of the voluptuous Casino. Like Cervantes and Boccaccio, Scott has gained a notoriety among every people whose language chronicles the thoughts and fancies of cultivated man. By wielding his pen, not for a circle, a party, or a period, he has gained the highest pinnacle of human ambition-that of ruling the hearts and regulating the imaginations of mankind. The curse of Babel proves only a momentary obstacle to the diffusion of such genius and talent as he possesses-the variety of tongues, merely a mean of rendering a name like his more remarkable and more enduring."

"It is probable that the Tales before us will be the last that

Sir W. Scott will produce a probability which, we fear, is increased almost to a certainty, after perusing the short and touching valedictory address that is appended to these volumes. From this, it is easy to gather, that health has long eschewed the study of the Master of Abbotsford, and that "had he continued to prosecute bis usual literary labours, it seems, indeed, probable, that at the term of years he has already attained, the bowl, to use the emphatic language of Scripture, would have been broken at the fountain." Whether the balmy breezes of that fair climate to which he has gone may obtain for him "such a restoration of health as may serve him to spin his thread to an end in his own country," is known only to Heaven. The ashes of one of Scotland's immortal novelists already repose in the soil of Ausonia, and we can scarcely afford her the honour of possessing those of another! But whatever may betide the Author of Waverley, during his Italian pilgrimage, he requires not to mount the Capitol to receive his crown of laurel. His brow already is bound with the deathless chaplet. Like his great contemporary and only rival--Goethe, Scott has attempted every species of literary labour, and, like the German Nestor, he has in all been singularly successful. He has gone over the whole garden of the Belles Lettres, and has planted in each parterre a perennial flower. Let him only now picture, like the Author of Faust, his own doings, with his own magic pen, and only give the world an insight into the machinery of his mind and feelings, by becoming his own biographer, and the coronal of his literary fame will then be complete. We hate leave-taking with most men, and particularly with so old and so amiable an acquaintance as the Author of Waverley.

Since our first meeting, we have travelled many rough stages towards the “green background of life,” as Jean Paul so emphatically terms our last resting place, and during that journey, some of the happiest and most profitable hours has been occupied in listening to his lyre and studying his multifarious intellectual labours. It seems, however, that our regularly returning tete-atete is now destined to cease. We must henceforth look out for other music to soothe us, other mental magic to stimulate us. In calling our readers' attention to the new-born twin tales before us, left by their grateful parent as a last legacy to the public, we feel something of the melancholy which Gibbon experienced when he had just put the last touch to his Roman History. On reading the concluding "adieu," we feel, as far as Scott, at least, is concerned, that our occupation as critics is gone. In that vocation, whatever may have been the political differences which existed between us, we were never blind to the transcendent literary talents which belonged to our political opponent. Though his sentiments on government, like his Romances, belonged to the policy of the past, we felt impelled to pardon the one, for the pleasure we derived from the other. The genius which can procure for itself the command of all the great vehicles of thought from the Wolga to the Mediterranean, is one that we cannot but venerate, and sure are we that no SCOTSMAN who contemplates what Sir Walter Scott has done for the literary glory of his country, will refuse to join us in the sentiment:

Palmam qui meruit ferat."

ORIGINAL POETRY.

YES AND NO..

LOVE, little blind urchin, went shooting one day,
And madrigals chaunted so pretty;
While ballads he sold as he went on his way,
With Valentine's verses so witty:

Love's burden was "maids," ne'er away your hearts throw,
Till Prudence prompts "Yes," always answer, “Oh! no."

Love, little false urchin, advice didn't spare,

Yet his arrows at random he shot 'em; And a dart aim'd at Prudence, who chanced to be there, But thus wounded, their hearts she forgot 'em. Left by Prudence, the maids turned out silly, and so They often said Yes, when they should have said No.

MISCELLANEA.

Not

CONTRADICTION OF PROVERBS.-"The more the merrier." so; one hand is enough in a purse." Nothing hurts the stomach more than surfeiting." Yes; lack of meat.--" Nothing but what has an end." Not so ; a ring hath none, for it is round." Money is a great comfort." Not when it brings a thief to the gallows. "The world is a long journey." Not so; the sun goes over it every day." It is a great way to the bottom of the sea." Not so; it is but a stone's cast." A friend is best found in adversity." Not so; for then there is none to be found." The pride of the rich makes the labour of the poor." Not so; the labour of the poor makes the pride of the rich.