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"I am but a gatherer and disposer of other men's stuff." WOTTON.

Years.

THE OLD MAID'S DIARY.

15. Anxious for coming out, and the attention of the

men.

16. Begins to have some idea of the tender passion.
17. Talks of love in a cottage, and disinterested affection.
18. Fancies herself in love with some handsome man,
who has flattered her.

19 Is a little more difficult, in consequence of being

noticed.

SIR, The principal magnet which has attracted me to the theatre during the past week, has been the chastened and beautiful recitations of Mrs. BARTLEY. This lady, a few years ago, was bailed, in Loudon, as the legitimate successor of Mrs. SID DONS; and was esteemed by the best judges, as the very first in her arduous profession. But the overwhelming splendour, and unrivalled talents of Miss O'NEIL, suddenly eclipsed all other luminaries, however brilliant, and Mrs. BARTLEY has never since been so prominent an object in the theatrical world. Still, her fame being built, not on the adventitious aid derived from symmetry of person, but on the superior qualifications of a sound judgment, and a cultivated mind; her performances 20. Commences fashionable, and dashes. have been always highly approved by the lovers of 21. Still more confidence in her own attractions, and genuine dramatic talent. Sorry am I to find that expects a brilliant establishment. in LIVERPOOL, a town celebrated for its liberality and courtesy to strangers, she has been subjected to attacks, which, for their pettiness, vulgarity, and apparent malice, must be loathsome and disgusting to every generous and feeling heart; and at utter variance with the principles of correct cri- 25. Rather more circumspect in her conduct. ticism, and good taste. Mrs. BARTLEY's former 26. eminence, her present capabilities, and that uniform propriety of conduct for which, in every situation of life, she has been distinguished, should have shielded her from the vulgar and persevering abuse (for it is not criticism) to which I allude, I am well aware that private virtues cannot be considered an equivalent for professional abilities; and if Mrs. 30. Rather fearful of being called an old maid. BARTLEY were destitute of those abilities, I should 31. An additional love of dress.

22.

Refuses a good offer, because he is not a man of fa

shion.

23. Flirts with every young man she meets.

24. Wonders she is not married.

27. 28.

29.

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The chief novelties we have been called upon to
notice, are the substitutes for VANDENHOFF, Tay-
LEURE, and Miss GRANT. The Shylock of Mr.SAL-
TER was really quite comical. This gentleman's per-
formances are too often disfigured by rant and gri-
mace: there are no indications of cool study, strong
feeling, or acute discrimination, about his acting. 38. Likes talking of her acquaintance who are married
His appearance is prepossessing; but this is a poor
substitute for those higher and mental endowments,
unfortunately, and finds consolation in their mis-
which are absolutely necessary to enable a tragedian
fortunes.

to command the respect of an audience, even in the 89. Ill nature increases.
tempest and whirlwind of passion. Except this be 40. Very meddling and officious. N. B. A growing pen-
the case, all that shouting and storming by which
chant.

the actor means to depict strong feeling, goes for 41. If rich, as a dernier resort, makes love to a young
nothing but stage trick and common-place rant, in

man without fortune.

the estimation of the judicious. I may, perhaps, en- 42. Not succeeding, rails against the sex. ter into more particulars respecting Mr. SALTER at

another opportunity: in the mean time, I recommend 48. Partiality for cards and scandal commences. him to enter upon a rigid course of study. Let 44. Severe against the manners of the age.

him pay more attention to the principles of human 45. Strong predilection for a Methodist parson.
mature and of a just elocution, and less to effect 46. Enraged at his desertion.

and stage-trick; and he will always find in a Liver-47. Becomes desponding, and takes snuff.
pool audience a sufficient number of judicious per- 48. Turns all her sensibility to cats and dogs.
sons to reward him with that kind of applause which
ought to be the highest object of an actor's ambition 49.

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SIR,-Through the medium of your paper, I wish to call the attention of our worthy Rectors to the shameful practice of allowing old coffin-boards to remain in heaps in St. Peter's and St. Nicholas's churchyards; although "their occupation's gone," these frail tenements should be either burnt or otherwise disposed of, as the sight of them must be very hurtful to those who have the remains of their dear departed friends deposited in those churchyards; and, moreover, as the parish has been put to much expense for iron-railing, &c. to adorn the outside, why not keep the inside of the churchyards in proper order 3-Yours, DECENS.

50.

We have been favoured by our correspondent PERE. GRINE, with a letter, which cannot be strictly consi dered as forming one of the regular series, which we have lately commenced in the Kaleidoscope. It is not the less acceptable, however, on that account, and shall appear as soon as possible. In the mean time, we shall thank our correspondent for a continuation of the series.

TIM BOBBIN'S LIFE, so often promised, is reserved for our second volume, which commences on the 3rd of next month; on which day we fully expect to have the index to the first volume ready for delivery.

A FORWARD MISS.-The circumstances disclosed by
M. in his letter, are of such a nature, that we cannot
abate one jot of the opinion we ventured to form of the
lady who leads him such a dance. There is a degree
of eccentricity about this dashing belle which is alto
gether inconsistent with our notions of female pre-
priety; and, although we are very far from being
prudes, we involuntarily startle at the thoughts of a
young lady paying a visit to her lover with the non-
chalance exhibited in M.'s description of the inter-
view; nor could we suppress the wish, that, whist
cooped up in the closet, the lady had been seized
with an irrepressible sneezing fit, which, by a
posing her indiscretion, might have had a salutary
effect upon her character for the future. If the lady
should, as in all probability she will, set us down as
uncivilized Goths, our only answer shall be, that our
estimate of the sex is somewhat more elevated than that
expressed by the celebrated author of LITTLE's Poems,
whose unrivaled beauties but ill atone for the moral
levity displayed in his early, and unfortunately too
popular, works. We cannot, with Lord CHESTER.
FIELD, degrade the sex to mere agreeable playthings;
still less can we regard their "weak sides" as the most
deserving of our esteem, as they are represented, in
the very reprehensible lines with which we conclude
these remarks.

"Sweet book, unlike the books of art,
Whose errors are thy fairest part;
In whom, the dear errata column.
Is the best page in all the volume!"

THE THEATRE.-B. W. W. of Manchester, who, is his favour of the 26th ult. expressed the hope that we should resume the Theatrical Critiques of the Kale doscope, is referred to our publications of this and the last week. We take the occasion to observe, that as the subject is of local rather than of general interest, and as the Kaleidoscope has now attained a very ex tensive circulation in the country, we must prescribe limits to this critical department, which we could wish not to see protracted in length beyond that of the communication of G. N.; who will, we trust, pardon our omission of some parts of his letter. We shall be happy to afford G. N. any further explanation, either personally or by note.

The YOUNG OBSERVER is welcome back again: think we may freely leave the length of his future communications to his own taste and discretion. The present letter shall appear in our next.

OBSERVER, whose communication we omitted to notice last week, is somewhat too scrupulous: the articles to which he objects were Advertisements, and as such, paid for at the stamp office.

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To Correspondents.

DEFERRED COMMUNICATIONS.-Several correspon-
dents, whose various favours (although they have been
noticed from time to time, with the intimation that

they were not unacceptable) have not yet appeared,
are assured, that, although they have been postponed
for various reasons, they shall not be overlooked, but
shall be included in our present volume, which will
terminate with the current month.

The notes of X. L. D. have been received, and shall be
appropriated on the very first opportunity.

The suggestions of A FRIEND are quite in the spirit of our work; and shall be taken into consideration. THE DRAMA. We regret that the letter of CRITICUS has only this instant reached us.-Monday noon.

Letters or parcels not received, unless free of charge.

Liverpool: Printed and published by E. Smith & Co.

54, Lord-street, Liverpool

Sold also by J. Bywater and Co. Pool-lane; Evans, Cheg win & Hall, Castle-st.; T. Smith, Paradise-st.; T.War brick, Public Library, Lime-st.; E. Willan, BoldM. Smith, Tea-dealer and Stationer, Richmond-row and J. Smith, St. James's-road, for ready money only.

OR,

Literary and Scientific Mirror.

"UTILE DULCI."

This familiar Miscellany, from which religious and political matters are excluded, contains a variety of original and selected Articles; comprehending Literature, Criticism, Men and Manners, Amusement, Elegant Extracts, Poetry, Anecdotes, Biography, Meteorology, the Drama, Arts and Sciences, Wit and Satire, Natural History, Monthly Diary, Fashions, &c. &c.; forming a handsome Annual Volume, with an Index and Title-page.-Regular supplies are forwarded to the following

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The Traveller.

LETTER IV.

(Written for the Kaleidoscope.) SIR,-We anchored, as my last informed you, in the harbour of Messina, late in the evening, and waited for the morning gun, with some anxiety, to receive our doom. The morning came, and with it our sentence, which, like Romeo's, was "not bodies' death, but bodies' banishment." The truth is, the plague was raging at Malta; and a mail had arrived, during the night, from Palermo, bringing the dismal tidings of the yellow fever having made its appearance at Cadiz and Gibraltar. All vessels newly arrived from any of those places were, therefore, ordered instantly to quit the port, without any previous inquiry being made as to the health of those on board.

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wanting; for sick men seldom have occasion | ceps, to the proper officer, who fumigates
for that important person's services. All, it in a stove of burning straw, after which
however, would not do; for it is known that your friend may receive it. The delivery
a hostile feeling to the British was one cause of provisions is made with equal caution.—
of our shameful usage; and I firmly believe The cargoes are discharged into the Lazza-
had it not been for the arrival and inter retto, and exposed to the air. The vessels
ference of Lord William Bentinck, of whom themselves are subjected to fumigation.
the Sicilians were sore afraid, and to whom It can scarcely be supposed you can long.
the whole business was represented, we resist the pleasure of society; visits, there-
might have remained in quarantine, I had fore, are often made, nay, dinners eaten, by
almost said, till doomsday. The whole parties, under various periods of quarantine,
period of this marine imprisonment was one
hundred and seven days; a more cruel,
vexatious, and unjust detention was pro-
bably never experienced.

As we experience, in England, little of the formalities of quarantine compared with those of the Mediterranean, I will give you some account of the regulations of Messina, which is, perhaps, of all others, the strictest port in Europe. As soon as a vessel is adYou may be sure we did not comply with mitted into the harbour, two men are sent this unjust order, evidently made for the on board, as guards, and whose business it purpose of inducing us to offer, what those is to watch day and night alternately, and in power would gladly have accepted, a prevent communication. If you should bribe. Being advised from high authority, wish to converse with friends on shore, we defied the whole body of magistrates, there is a place at the health-office for the health-officers, &c. by hoisting the British purpose. The space where you stand is flag, and positively refusing to move.- railed, and partitioned into small pens, not These worthies had not the temerity to put much unlike those at Kirkdale for cattle. their bullying threats into execution, well Indeed I can compare it to nothing better knowing the consequences that would arise than a Smithfield in miniature; when these from any insult to that passport of the pens are occupied by various groups, from ocean. Notwithstanding the enjoyment of vessels, of all nations, in quarantine; guards perfect health, and passing the ordeal of ever and anon pushing their pikes between examination, by a medical officer, twice a the rails, to keep you together, and making week, it was not until we had remained in the most discordant noises; you may imathis state of purgatory, if I may use the gine a scene which would have well suited expression, two months, that we were even our inimitable Hogarth. In transmitting a allowed to take exercise in the Lazzaretto. letter or note, it is first cut through with a It was in vain that I petitioned, appealing chisel on a block placed for the purpose, to our caterer, if proofs of appetite were and then handed, with a pair of large for

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who must not, upon any account, touch each other. The way to manage this, is as follows: you invite your friends to come alongside your vessel, in a proper boat; you descend into your own, each party having a guard, and in a third small boat between you, are placed the viands. Care must be taken to behave circumspectly, that is, not to attack a dish until your opposite friend has satisfied his claims, and withdrawn his hands. The same discipline is observed in respect to anything your table, if so it may be called, affords. Strange and ridiculous as this may be thought, I have many a time, and oft, on the glassy harbour of Messina, spent a pleasant afternoon, with a friend or two, over a bottle of old Faro. That it behoves the inhabitants of countries, which, either from climate or other causes, are particularly liable to epidemical diseases, to guard with great care against their introduction by strangers, no one will venture to deny; but when you witness particular instances of severity, in cases where there are no just grounds of alarm, and, at the same moment, those of an opposite nature less severely visited, by the powerful agent, money, being secretly employed; in short, nothing like impartiality, or the observance of a general or rational rule, you naturally reprobate the authors of such an inquitious

system, as they deserve; and my treatment | stranger, and executed the same sentence and a little planting will render it not only more previous to landing in Sicily, contributed, upon him, as that from which he had only interesting in its appearance, but really more proin no small degree, to alloy the pleasures just fled. The disappointment of the crew which a residence in that fertile and classic whose property the goose had been, was island affords. visible; but it was all in vain, to regain it was out of the question; and, indeed, the steward, who was an old tar, strongly protested against releasing a lawful prize, taken, as he quaintly expressed it, without register, pass, or papers.

ductive. Notwithstanding the objections of some agriculturists, that trees in this high, cold region will be injurious, by shading aud excluding the sun from the north-west side too much; yet the advantage of breaking the currents of wintry winds, and of shade for cattle in the heat of midsummer, and of enlivening and diversifying the face of the country, will certainly overbalance that evil, if it should really prove one. Little complaint, however, is made where trees actually grow, and the appearance of ash, elm, beech, and larch is such as to give every encouragement to the planter. It is curious to see, in what a variety of ways the jealous vigilance over new plans, amongst a people set. tled in old habits, evinces itself. Attempts al im provement are opposed as whimsical innovations, and the most ridiculous notions are propagated to render them abortive. The system of bone mannring has been introduced, and we found it a general opinion almost wherever we went, that one half of the bones were human. In some places, the poor people were almost ready to mob the farmers, whom they regarded as impious wretches for eucon

From my having dwelt so long upon the subject, you will, perhaps, be as willing to perform quarantine, as to read more about it; but as a circumstance or two occurred, during my detention in that state, which shows the ridiculous and capricious manner Not less laughable than the former, and in which this department is managed in equally absurd, are two circumstances, much Sicily, I will venture to trespass upon your of the same nature, which occurred at the patience. I took out with me a fine Cheshire same time. Amongst other articles, I had cheese, which I intended as a present to a a present from England of a pair of silver friend. Upon my arrival I took the cheese candlesticks, and also a few bottles of in question to the health-officer, to be de- Wheeler's incomparable, but extravagantly livered in the city; for provisions, if in good dear, chow-chow. The former had, as is order, as well as some other articles, are usual, a little green cloth fastened under not considered susceptible of infection, each; these were condemned to a quarantherefore not liable to quarantine. From tine of forty days in the Lazzaretto; and its own intrinsic excellence, a few little the pickles were only permitted after reanimals of the class vermes had generated moving the strings round the necks of the in the middle. The cheese was laid on the jars; and what is more extraordinary, the ground, and, we having retired a few paces, small bits of muslin in each, saturated with the clerk of the health-office, together with vinegar, and which would of themselves a gold-sticked M. D. looking wondrous have been preventives against the worst of wise, stepped close to inspect it; round the plagues. Mercutio cries, "plague o' both whole stood several of the guards, with your houses;" you, I already hear exclaim-church yards, and if the trade were permitted to go their pikes; one of these gentry, quickering, "plague o' your quarantines; say on, they seemed to have little hope of resting quietly sighted than the rest, spied a little fellow something about the dangers of famed skip out of the cheese, who was soon im- Sylla and Charybdis, the gay Parthenope, paled for his temerity; and the whole was the Imperial City, Arno's delicious vale, and pronounced unfit to be received, and accor- fifty other places which you have visited, dingly was conveyed back to our vessel.— all dear to the man of letters, and interesting Would you believe it, some time after, and when in worse condition, this identical cheese was allowed to be landed, a wedge of it being previously presented to the clerk, who before was vehement for its being taken on board.

Another of these ridiculous scenes occurred on Christmas eve. On board a vessel, not far distant from ours, but which was not in quarantine, a seaman was holding up a fine live goose, and expatiating upon its merits, no doubt when roasted, with apple sauce. The crew seemed to agree with him in opinion, and to anticipate the plea. sures of the feast. At this moment the sacred bird, whether understanding the conversation and wishing to enjoy the stubble. a little longer I know not, escaped, and, flying towards our vessel, was captured by our cook. The bird having communicated with a vessel in quarantine, there was no returning it; we, therefore, welcomed the

even to those who have not had that best of
gifts, a liberal education." I shall, in due
season, most readily accede to what I be
lieve to be your wishes, and, ere long, shall
transmit another epistle. In the interim,
I am, Yours, &c.

PEREGRINE.

A PEDESTRIAN PILGRIMAGE
OF FIVE DAYS,

aging so sacriligeous, and, in their opinion, cannibal a trade. The bones used are ground in a mill: this they thought was entirely on purpose to conceal the fact. They told us dismal tales of ship loads of them brought from the continent, from the different fields of battle'; one half of them from Waterloo.

When these sources were exhausted, their heads were full of resurrection men and ransacking of

in their graves. Attempting to laugh some of them out of their fears, one woman assured me, that though the bones were ground, Providence seemed resolved to detect the monstrous traffic, for that a field near her house, strewed with them, had grown turnips last winter all manner of shapes of men's faces, and hands with fingers and thumbs complete; and they had been taken to Ashbourn for a show. I told her, jokingly, that if it were true, it was of luk consequence: it was better to manure the land with

dead men's bones than with the blood of the living; and that if men thought little of cutting one a other's throats, and blowing each other's brains out, by ten and twenty thousands at once, no wonder at their strewing the fields with their ashes, and living en the fertility of their fellow-men; that if they would permit one another to be at peace and quietness while they lived, their thefts upon the dead might

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for about three miles, its appearance becoming con- | You are at once transported iuto a land of enchant-nately rests ou flocks and herds lying peacefully in tinually more impressive; its hills lifting up their ment. Every object that surrounds you, though the valley, and wanders from heights to heights that heads to a more stupendous height; its decorations of you have but just left the other most striking parts seem in silent majesty to bear the blue concave of wood and verdant declivities growing more animatedly of the Peak, is strange and wild, and wonderously heaven, while the ear catches, in the solitude of that beautiful; and its naked accumulations of cliffs unlike all other features of creation. The river, reposing scene, no sound but the whimper of the every moment presenting a variety of awful and about every quarter of a mile, takes a sudden turn falcon, hovering on the mountain tops, and the amazing forms. Our road at the bottom was full round the feet of the mountains, and throws open gush of the stream below. of huge gray masses of rock, that at some time had before you, as you follow it, another scene, different thundered from the heights above, and of lesser from the last, so that your mind is continually exstones, whose points, just peeping through the moss, cited by fresh emotions of astonishment and delight reminded us of the Jerusalem pilgrim with peas in which can only be felt in silence, and that make us his shoes. At length we reached the Dove, at the sensible how poor, how feeble is all human language. moment a most grand and bewildering scene of In such situations, who has not experienced a deep rocks and precipices opened upon us, that stood and labouring effort of soul, a struggling anxiety to like towers and spires and tremendous rugged | describe his feelings, till he has sighed to think how domes, some crowned with fantastic pinnacles; an impotent are the powers of speech! assemblage of shapes so strange and overawing, and piled amid such a deep and soul-pervading stillness, that, notwithstanding all we had seen of the Peak, we were almost persuaded to deem them unreal; -the lawless creations of a dream.

DOVE DALE.

* Thither he hied, enamour'd of the scene;
For rocks on rocks, piled, as by magic spell,
Here scorched with lightning, there with ivy green,
Fenced from the north and east this savage dell;
Southward a mountain rose with easy swell,
Whose long long groves eternal murmur made;

And towards the western sun a streamlet fell,
Where, through the cliffs, the eye remote surveyed
Blue hills, and glittering waves, and skies in gold array'd.
Along this narrow valley you might see

The wild deer sporting on the meadow ground,
And here and there a solitary tree,

Or mossy stone, or rock with woodbine crowned.
Oft did the cliffs reverberate the sound
Of parted fragments, tumbling from on high;
And from the summit of that craggy mound,
The perching eagle oft was heard to cry,
Or on resounding wings to shoot along the sky."
Beattie.

The first scene after leaving Milldale commences
with a mountain on the right or Staffordshire side,
terminating in a lofty bluff precipice, something re-
sembling the High Tor at Matlock. On the left is
a pile of naked, grey, and stupendous cliffs, that
have scattered their fragments plentifully into the
valley, where you pass along by the clear, swift river,
amidst a wilderness of tall, rampant plants; pestilent
wort, the bird's cherry, the elegant valerian, and
mountain cistus, springing from mossy banks,
amidst hazels, flowery cornels, and buckthorns.
This scene on the left side (on which you walk)
runs on for about a quarter of a mile, and returns
again nearly half way, forming a silent valley, sur-
rounded by a green circular range of hills, on which
round tower-like rocks project at intervals with
verdant slopes between them, dotted with sheep.
This glen, as you pass its entrance, which is con-
tracted by the hills, impresses you with a deep sense
of loneliness, and before you, at the turn of the dale,
"Midst the vast marble cliffs, a lofty cave
Rears its proud arch beside the rushing wave,"
F. Hemans.

and strikes you, as you approach it, every moment
with increasing awe; a smaller one, which is nearer,
but close adjoining the larger, would in another
place appear magnificent; but, by the side of that
mighty one, it loses much of its effect. A regular
arch of about thirty feet in height, and sixty in the
span, forms the entrance of the larger cave; within,
the roof rises with a lofty vault, and at the back
stands a massy pillar that seems to support it. In
the left corner is a steep recess, which you may
enter by some natural, but steep and rugged steps.
The entrance to this grand cave up a quick ascent,
almost close to the water.

"In such a scene the soul oft walks abroad,
For silence is the energy of God!
And when all nature sleeps in tranquil smiles,
What sweet, yet lofty thought the soul beguiles.
There's not an object 'neath the sun's bright beam,
There's not a shadow dark'ning on the stream,
There's not a mountain propping yonder skies,
Whose huge reflection in the water lies,
That does not, in the lifted soul, awake
Thoughts, that of love and heaven alike partake;
While all its newly-wakened feelings prove,
That love is heav'n, and God the soul of love.
In such sweet times the spirit rambles forth,
Beyond the precincts of this groveling earth;
Expatiates in a higher world than this,
And plunging in the future's dread abyss,
Proves an existence separate and refin'd,
By leaving its frail tenement behind.
For there are thoughts that God alike has given
To high and low, and these are thoughts of heav'n."

After this turn at the cave, the dale expands, the river flows more peacefully, and the mountaius stretch away to a greater distance; but a few steps farther you see it swiftly contracting again, and all at once seeming to stop your progress with a region of magical confusion; rocks, pyramids, lofty obelisks, and woody mountains. Arriving, you find two stupendous insulated rocks, like two giants, guarding the pass, which alone admits the river and a narrow foot-path; the one on the Staffordshire side strikingly resembling the tower of a church, but leaning fearfully, and behind it, rocky “hills on hills, and Alps on Alps arise," sloping away to the distance of a mile upwards, most deliciously covered with green foliage. On the other side stands a tall spire, with a yawning cavern at its base, a dark narrow valley running up towards the left; behind, From Biggin Dale we pursued the course of the and beyond it, still loftier cliffs, on the top of one of Dove, perpetually changing its direction, amongst which, immediately impending the river, a vast mountains of a most romantic character; the deep square stone lies partly shot over, and seeming solitude only interrupted at intervals by the lonely ready every moment to rush down the terrible abyss. bleating of the flocks, or by the stones rustling down Through this narrow pass you wander along, beamongst the bushes from mines on the brow of the tween mighty perpendicular cliffs, whose sides are lofty hills, to Milldale; a few houses perched amidst tufted with hanging shrubs; the valerian waves its some woody rocks, to which hundreds of martins pink umbels; the Jacob's ladder flaunts its vivid had fixed their nests. We thought ourselves well blue; the harebell streams with a delicate and repaid for our walk by the scenes we had passed The bottom of the cave is a continuance of this azure radiance from the lofty rock; the dark yew through; but about a mile below Milldale, the part slope, rising at different places by a step of the frowns over some gloomy chasm; and the white of Dovedale usually visited, began to present itself, shelving rock, and the steeper part beautifully hung beamtree throws its horizontal arms and broad siland all we had seen appeared as nothing. Dovedale with the delicate leaves of the wild geranium. At very leaves from the precipice above you, that awes is undoubtedly the finest part of the Peak. Its rocks the mouth of this cave, on the green sward, the your bewildered mind as you look up to its dizzy do not, perhaps, equal in altitude and individual parties who visit the dale commonly take refresh-top, and thence to the blue void of heaven. Your magnitude some of those at Matlock, but the scenes ment. Above them sweeps that magnificent natural way is at times over stepping stones along the river, at Matlock wear a monotony, or at least a strong arch, bearing on its back a pile of rock, crowned which, pent between these rocks, in rainy seasons resemblance to each other, which soon deprives with trees, and mounted at one end with an apparent them of much of their effect, by familiarizing the watch tower. Immediately below, the river runs eye, after seeing a part, to the character of the with a soothing flow round a singular mass of rocks whole. But here, besides the singular character of on the other side, that seem to have been torn by the scenery, its novelty is perpetuated to the very some former convulsion of nature from the cave last, by an amazing variety of ever-changing views. and hurled there; and on either hand the eye alter

rushes through with tremendous violence, but now sweeps along, a stream of liquid silver, in, whose depths every stone is seen, with long green tresses of the water ranunculus waving in its beautiful tide, or it dashes, like a volume of agitated snow, over falls that heighten the wildness of the place,

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Poetry.

DULCE DOMUM !

TO CAPTAIN H.

The long'd-for hour is come at last,
The river's foaming bar is past,

And, spreading proud each sail,
The glad ship bends her bow to lave
In each advancing dark blue wave,
And leans before the gale.

That long'd-for hour the master loves,
And keen his manly bosom proves

The joys it can impart ;

His wife's fond smile, his children's kiss,
His home, and all home's promised bliss,
Rush to his filling heart.

With joyful voice each new command
He gives; nor grieves to see the land
Retiring far astern:

When the blue hills blend with the sky,
His bosom heaves no farewel sigh ;

His thoughts all homeward turn.

"Tis thought of home that cheers his mind,
When, full against his course, the wind
Comes curling o'er the deep:
'Tis thought of home that cheers delay,
When calms are o'er the watery way,
And winds and waves asleep.

And when the skies with storms are dark,
And awful round the reeling bark

The mountain billows roll;

And, trusting in no earthly power,
He stems the danger of that hour,-
That soft thought cheers his soul,
Like lands that from the sea emerge,
Far smiling on its dark blue verge,

Beyond the storm's extent;
Stilly and sweet and bright it smiles,
And every careful thought beguiles,
And whispers calm content.
When England's hills at last appear,
It is that thought which makes more dear
To him their native charms;
For while the patriot's feelings flow,
That thought, with a more ardent glow,
The father's bosom warms.

But ah! 'tis sweet, that welcome hour
When needless is bright fancy's power
Amidst reality;

When all the days of danger past,
The port is gain'd, the anchor cast,
With wild hilarity.

This, this the hour the master loves;
And now in happy truth he proves

The joys it can impart ;

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LINES,

(After having recently lost an invaluable mother) On hearing Mr. Putnam's 'FEMALE EDUCATION,' on Thursday evening, May 31, 1821. [INSERTED BY PARTICULAR DESIRE.]

How soon the heart, an intimate with grief,
Springs at each hope which promises relief;
How soon is touch'd, within a heart of woe,
The chord that has disown'd all joys below;
Yet, yet, it vibrates sorrow's soothing strain,
And loves a sound, so mournful, to retain.
Such were my feelings, sweet to be indulg'd,
When Putnam, with soft eloquence, divulg'd
Our sex's value; show'd the virtuous wife,
The faithful partner,-soothing friend in life:
He painted, too, that dearer, sweeter friend;
Whose heart with mine did once so truly blend.
Oh! when this part assailed my watchful ears,
It brought before me days of other years;
When he deliver'd this, in mournful strain,
I felt as if my mother liv'd again;
For all encomiums, all the warmest praise,
Would shine on her but like departing rays."
She shone resplendent in the sphere she mov'd;
She was lamented, oh! she was beloved.

He next a picture drew of wedded love,
Then spake in raptures of the saints above,
Whose lives one deed of charity had been;
Whose cheering smiles made every day serene;
Whose goodness had a husband's life endear'd;
Whose precepts had a daughter's bosom cheer'd:
These, these were all her own whom we have lost,
And Putnam little thought who felt this most.
Ah! had he heard my father's deep-drawn sigh,
Ah! had he seen his daughter's tearful eye,
He would have found his eloquence had power
To sooth, to grieve, to cheer, within an hour;
But, to describe this reading, so sublime,
I leave to some far abler pen than mine;
And, hoping they'll bestow the praises due,
I, to my humble rhyme will bid adieu.
May such amusements with success be crown'd,
And Putnam's life with happiness abound;
For, till the sunshine of my life is set,
This Education,' I shall ne'er forget.
June 2nd, 1821.

Literary Notices.

ANNE.

THE AUTHOR OF WAVERLEY.

induce her to claim works which have attained such popularity. This question admits of a very plain with the lady's name, they would never have been and satisfactory answer. Had they been published read. The public have set her down as incorrigi bly unamusing; and her name would have operated, like magic, or rather like glue, in keeping the leaves. unopened. In fine, the novels have been in a great measure indebted for their celebrity to the impos ture that they were written by Sir Walter Scott, This is a very common bookseller's trick. Almost all our great authors have been subject to it, or concurred in it. Inferior writers have in a thousand instances published their works auonymously, that they might be buoyed into notice, by their ap pearing to emanate from some author of ability and established reputation. The trick baving succeeded, is of course repeated, as the same need for it exis on the publication of every new effusion. But there is another cause why no lady that aspires to the cha racter of piety, should claim Old Mortality. Werder our readers to what has been urged in the Christian Justructor respecting their religious tendency. The way in which the biblical phraseology of the Cove. uanters was caricatured gave great offence to pious people; and the applause of the volatile and irreli gious was more than counterbalanced by the censure of the serious. Hence her violent auger when she was detected, and hence the fully and ignorance" which she conferred upon you, for declaring her to be the author of works which we are told were so much above her capacity. Singular to abuse those who think us abler that we are. The argument on the score of Mrs. Grant's vanity, under present cit cumstances, is not only without force in this point, but makes on the other side of the question. She constantly praises the novels in conversation, and ascribes them to Sir Walter Scott. To keep up the thing, the novels praise her. "Genius highly cre ditable to the country," and the ingenious and respectable Mrs. Grant," are the terms in which we find her spoken of in Waverley. This direct and indirect admiration, this double dose of unqua lified flattery, is surely fully sufficient to satiate the vanity of any person.

I have sometimes heard people assert that Sir Walter was the writer of these novels; and feeling interested in the question, and anxious to sift the delusion to the last point, I have frequently in quired the grounds of their belief, and what facts they could adduce to warrant their opinion. A

(Continued from our present volume, p. 41, 57, 73, 121.) number of stories were told in reply; but a

"Dissimilitude of style, and heterogeneousness of sentiment, may sufficiently show that a work does not really belong to the reputed author.”—Johnson's preface to Shakspeare.

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"Others may pretend,' said the bookmaker, 'to direct the vulgar; but that is not the way; I always let the vulgar direct me; wherever popular clamour arises, I always echo the million. For instance, should the people in general say that such a man is a rogue, I instantly give orders to set him down in print a villain. Thus every man buys the book, not to learn new sentiments but to have the pleasure of seeing his own reflected To what purpose was the book then published?' cried I. Sir, the book was published in order to be sold; and no book sold better, except the criticisms upon it, which came out soon after. But, Sir, it is time that I should come to business. I have just now in the press an history of China, and if you will but put your name to it as the author, I shall repay the obligation with gratitude.'"-Goldsmith's Citizen of the World.

To the EDITOR of the GLASGOW JOURNAL.

SIR,-The popular prejudice that Sir Walter Scott is the writer of Mrs. Grant's novels, is fast fading before the mass of evidence which exists of the truth. It is really full time that it should, for I presume that a more groundless and extravagant delusion never existed in any age or conatry. Some people inquire how Mrs. Grant's vanity does not

pushing them for authorities, I uniformly true served by this appropriation of Sir Walter's na them to the persons whose pecuniary interest The last resource is the assumption that it must be so: because, forsooth, it is a general belief. Bat what I demand are the grounds for this "general belief." The novels bear no resemblance whatever to Sir Walter Scott's productions, and justly satis fied with his own celebrity, and disdaining to put chase, even by a blameless silence, a moraent's sperious popularity, he has pointedly denied the works, not only in the Edinburgh Annual Register, but to his Majesty at the Levee, and uniformly to his friends. The editor of the Edinburgh Review has taken an active part in propagating the prejudire, and, probably with a view to make Sir Walter feel little, he has praised the lady's novels infinitely more than ever he did the Baronet's poems,

a

In a former letter 1 briefly related a few of the facts I had ascertained by making inquiries in the parish of Cathcart, where Mrs. Grant bad resides

stated that there was no scenery on the Chee which in any point answered the descriptions in Churchyard and Castle of Cathcart suited to t the Tales of my Landlord, and I showed that the minutest particular. The Churchyard contains the graves of three martyrs, on whose tombstones there is an inscription in "rude prose and ruder rhyme."

Gigantic ash-trees mark the boundaries of the a metery;" and the surface is free of rauk sprizing grass, dark and noxious weeds, and covered with

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