because now-a-days young ladies must never have been done, had he left his study, his walk, or even his fishingchildren; and all the little games which involve forfeits rod, for this pious and momentous duty? These obare strictly forbidden, because it sometimes happens, that, servations do not militate against occasional and unavoidin paying the forfeits, young masters salute their neigh-able relaxations of the nature mentioned, but they are bours. This is indeed frightful!!! But with all our pointed directly against a routine, or almost continuous respect for the morality of the age, we question if the succession, of such unhallowing avocations. In order to young ladies who have been brought up upon the new visit the sick, therefore, as the sick ought to be, and have a plan, never having played at any game of forfeits in right to be visited, the minister should have his soul their lives, nor having read the history of Prince Desire, habitually and daily disciplined to holy and pious reflecwho did not discover that his nose was a league and a tion to those views of Christianity which can with safety, half long, until, being betrothed to a Princess, he wished and at the same time with comforting, be submitted to to salute her through the bars of his prison, are more per- the startled and doubting soul. The varieties of cases fect patterns of modesty than their mothers were before which occur in the course of medical practice, require them. Away with this canting and foolery! Let chil- every variety of treatment; and the skill of the physician dren be children, not ridiculous caricatures of matrons is never more exhibited than in his discovery or diagnosis and divines. Let them romp, and laugh, and be merry; of the disease, and in the applicability of the remedy take away from childhood its mirth and its festivities, and which he sees it proper to apply; and thus, too, it is what is there left to it? with the spiritual patient and the spiritual physician. One patient will require encouragement, whilst another ought to be cautioned against self-reliance and spiritual pride. One will require doctrinal explanation, whilst another must be extracted from the mists and meshes of his own distorting and perverting imagination. To one, milk, to another, stronger drink, must be given; and of all this the visiting minister is instituted, by reason and by law, the judge. Woe assuredly unto him, if, from a habitual unfitness for such nice and difficult discernments, he mistake and mistreat the cases before him,-apply sedatives instead of stimulants, or caustic instead of soothing restoratives! When the immortal and unalterable interests of men are concerned, a faithful messenger of God will undoubtedly act with carefulness and solicitude, well knowing that to injure or risk the interests of another's soul, is fearfully to hazard his own. In these chapters, as far as they have gone, the principle has been attempted to be elucidated, that we must not, in education, depart from the invariable order which nature has established in the developement of the faculties. We shall probably take a future opportunity of discussing that second principle from which the Sensibles have departed, viz. that education must not run counter to, but must be in agreement with nature, in the varied distribution of her endowments. RECOLLECTIONS OF A PARSONAGE. A CLERGYMAN'S DUTY AT SICK-BEDS-FEMALE INTER- THE visiting, and comforting, and praying, with the Thus far I am inclined to go, but no farther; nor can I see the propriety or the safety of a practice, which has of late years become more general than formerly,-that, namely, of lay visitations, and of lady visitations in particular. Now, let me not, in an age of womankind, when the whole sex is combined, as it were, into one excitement on the score of religion, be mistaken. Lazarus, when sick, was nursed by his sisters, Martha and Mary; but we do not read of these good and pious ladies travelling out of their own house, or out of the precincts of Bethany, to exhibit their philanthropy and ghostly consolation. Every clergyman will be delighted to find, that the soft part of female benevolence has preceded him in the habitation of poverty and distress. Woman never can, and never will, look more lovely than, when seated by the bed of the sick, she holds up the cup of comforting which her own benevolent heart has procured, to the parched lip of a suffering parent, or to the pale lips of a half-famished family. And in cases where spiritual advice or consolation is solicited, it would be fastidious to refuse to educated and zealous women, on any clerical grounds of inadequacy, the pleasure of doing, or at least The minister has an engagement abroad, or is engaged of attempting, in this way, to do good. But woman at home with what is called "company;" I care not (and I am sure I will be pardoned the averment by all how sober, or how respectable; but still, as company, who can appreciate my sincere feelings of respect and rethey imply a certain degree of abstraction from serious gard for the kindly and noble motives by which, even on and sober reflection. The cloth has been removed, the such occasions, she is manifestly influenced) does not alglass has circulated, the hilarity has commenced, and the ways stop here; instead of waiting for the call to advise host, warmed with animal spirits, has gone forth on a and to console, she not unfrequently volunteers her exsea of distraction. At this critical moment, a card or hortations and expostulations-she dives with a dangerous a verbal message announces the request of a poor dying anxiety and hardihood into the mysteries of the human fellow-creature for spiritual direction and comforting. I heart, at all times dark and mysterious, but particularly ask, in what frame of mind will the clergyman, thus situ- so when distracted and darkened by affliction-conscious ated, leave the table and the company-whether in a pre- hope and fear-confidence and despair. It is on such pared state of Christian knowledge and feeling, or under occasions that, as commissioned delegates of heaven, we something like a spirit of disappointment and regret, that would say, even to the fairest and the most heaven-like the call has been so inconveniently timed ?—and I ask in messenger whom we might surprise thus intervening addition, whether he will be disposed to lend that patient betwixt us and our flocks our flocks, whom we have investigation to the case-to the soul's inward mournings watered, it may be, and pastured for years,—“ Stand by! and feelings, which he might, and probably would have the physician who is regularly instructed and prac tised, is surely preferable, in such difficult cases, to the unprofessional self-recommended comforter." I once encountered the presence of a very well-meaning person, at the bed of a boy of seven years, who was apparently dying of a fever, and whose reason did but imperfectly minister to his perception of those around him. The lady hung, at the risk of an infectious disease, over the bed of the sick child, exclaiming from time to time, with an intensity of voice and mental anxiety which alarmed me for her own intellect, "Oh, tell me, my boy-my dear boy-oh! tell me, have you any hope-have you any hope?" I say, that on this occasion I did right, as the clergyman of the parish, in clearing the house, and even the parish, of such injudicious comforters. said to myself, "They may look at it if they please." I resolved, however, not to walk as if I were conscious that I wore a new coat. I assumed an easy, good-humoured, condescending kind of air; and the expression of my countenance seemed benevolently to indicate that I would have addressed a few words to an old friend, even although he appeared in a coat that I had seen him in six months before. I did not wear my Indian handkerchief in my breast; for I look upon that as a strata. gem to which men should resort only when the front parts of their coat get threadbare. I put my handkerchief (it is real India, and I have only one of the sort,) into my coat pocket, and I allowed one of the yellow corners to hang out as if by accident. I occasionally con veyed it from my pocket to my nose; but, when I re. placed it, a yellow corner, by the same accident, always hung out. An old man of ninety, the greater part of whose life had been spent in the eldership, and in full communion with, and regular attendance upon, the church, came at last to be placed upon his deathbed, and, unhappily for At the corner of Castle Street, several porters touched himself, under the mistaken solicitudes of a young lady, their hats to me; and two maid-servants, who were whose zeal was at least a match for her knowledge. The standing at the top of their area-stair, looked after me elder's mind seemed completely made up upon his spirit- till I was out of sight. When I came to where the ual condition; nor did he shrink from expressing, in the coaches are, opposite the Assembly Rooms, three or four most becoming and humbled manner possible, his confi- men asked me if I wanted a coach; but, though the comdence in the mercy of that God who had made, preser- pliment rather pleased me, I declined their offers in a ved, and ultimately redeemed him, and whose blood was dignified and gentlemanly manner. Just as I passed capable of procuring the remission of his many sins. Gardner's shop, or between that and M'Diarmid's, an This state of mind, which appeared to me the most de- individual, rather shabbily dressed, whispered in my ear, sirable imaginable, did not exhibit the same aspect to my" Any old clothes to sell, sir?" I answered "No!" female assistant; she spoke long and earnestly "on par- rather gruffly; for my first impression was, that a kind ticular grounds of assurance," and particular dates of con- of sneer was intended at my new coat; but, on reflection, version and regeneration. This at once bewildered and I feel convinced that these old-clothes-men only address terrified the poor elder, and it was not without some dif- persons of gentlemanly appearance; and therefore I take ficulty that I was enabled to restore him to that comfort- this opportunity of publicly expressing my regret for my able frame of mind, from which, by such, to say the least severity to the individual in question, who, I am sorry to of it, rash and uncalled-for interposition, he had been repeat, was rather shabbily dressed. Hitherto I had met driven. with little to ruffle me. I could multiply instances, but these are sufficient to illustrate my meaning-a meaning, which leaves to real and unassuming piety a field of usefulness and benevolence at once inviting and extensive, and which only hedges it out from such cases as, from their very nature, are capable of being misunderstood and mismanaged. I am no enemy to religious zeal, in woman particularly. I think that when such zeal is chastened by good feeling, and directed by good sense, it is the loveliest feature in her countenance the brightest ornament in her dress the most graceful movement in her daily walk. It is, indeed, twice blessed, both in respect of others and herself. I would wish merely to brighten the flame, by removing the snuff-to trim the lamp into undimmed splendour, by double-refining the oil by which the flame is supported. T. G. MY NEW COAT. A FRAGMENT. I NEVER was so miserable in all my life, as the day I put on my new coat. My misery was heightened by the circumstance, that I expected to be particularly happy. I put it on after breakfast. It fitted me exceedingly well, and I have rather a handsome figure at least, so my tailor tells me. I had been reading Miss Landon's 66 Improvisatrice;" but the moment I put on my new coat, I found that my thoughts wandered to Princes' Street, and I could no longer participate in the sorrows of her heroine. I buttoned my new coat; for the greatest natural philosophers inform us, that we should always wear a new coat buttoned, that it may get a habit of sitting close to the body. I buttoned my new coat, and sallied forth. I passed through the western divisions of George Street. It struck me that there was an unusual number of ladies at the windows. I did not care. - I was sure that my new coat had a fashionable cut; so I Just as I turned into South Hanover Street, I rubbed against a white phantom, who passed on as if nothing had happened, but who left the whole of my right arm and shoulder covered with flour and dust. The daring villain was a baker, and, with a ruthless barbarity worthy only of a lineal descendant of the murderer Haggart, he had attempted to destroy for ever my coat and my happiness. Fortunately, an obliging footman, who was near me at the time, seeing my distress, lifted his hand, and, by a pretty violent application of it to my back and side, succeeded in restoring me to comparative peace of mind. I got into Prince's Street. The sun was shining brightly; all the world was abroad; but I did not meet with one whose coat was so new as my own. I felt my superiority; I perceived that I was an object of universal attention. I don't know how many black eyes glanced sunshine into mine; I cannot recollect the number of blue oglers that stole my heart at every step. Opposite Blackwood's shop, a gentleman, in a blue surtout and green spectacles, stopped me, and, addressing me in French, gave me to understand that he was a Spanish refugeevery poor and very miserable-and that, as he had been informed I was celebrated for my charitable actions, he hoped I would afford him a little assistance. I was rather pleased with the stranger's address; but how he came to be informed that I was celebrated for my charitable actions, I confess I cannot very well comprehend; for, with the exception of a penny I threw to a little boy who continued scraping on the fiddle under my window one day after dinner when I was falling asleep, I do not think I have given away a farthing in charity for the last nine months. The Spanish refugee, however, in green spectacles, had done me the honour to single me out, probably in consequence of the air of distinction which my new coat gave me, and it would have been very inhuman in me not to have presented him with half-a-crown. He received it with much gratitude, and I went on towards the Calton Hill. Passing the Waterloo Hotel, I encountered a cloud of dust, which I did not at all like, but which I was philosopher enough to submit to in silence. Severer evils were awaiting me. After I had ascended the hill, the day suddenly overcast; big, heavy drops of rain began to fall -faster and faster-till a thunder-shower came tumbling down with irresistible violence. Good Heaven! rainthunder-rain upon a new coat-the very first day I had ever put it on! I turned back—I ran-I flew-but in vain! Before I could reach the nearest place of shelter, I was completely drenched. I could have wept, but I was in too great agony to think of weeping. When I got to the east end of Princes' Street, there was not a coach on the stand. I might have gone into Barry's or Mackay's, but it would have been of no use,-I was as wet as I could be. I walked straight home through the splashing streets. I do not think that I was in my right reason. I was to have dined out in my new coat, and now it would never look new again! It was soaked in water. I put my hand in my pocket mechanically to take out my silk handkerchief-I don't know why; Heaven and earth! it was gone; my pocket had been picked! I had lost my new silk handkerchief. The horrible conviction flashed upon me that the Spanish refugee in green spectacles, who had complimented me on my charitable actions, and to whom I had given half-a-crown, took it from me. I reached home, more dead than alive. my coat, and sent it to the kitchen to be dried. is a very good woman, but she is rather fat. myself, meditating upon the uncertainty of human life. My reverie lasted a long while. Suddenly an odour like that of a singed sheep's head reached my nostrils. started up; in a moment the fatal truth crossed my mind; I rushed into the kitchen; my cook was fast asleep; and my coat was smoking before the fire, burned brown in a dozen different places, with here and there several small holes. I seized a carving knife to stab the cook to the heart; but, in my impetuosity, I tumbled over a kitchen tub, and as I fell, my head struck with a bump upon the cook's lap. She started up, and, calling me a "base monster," fled from the kitchen as fast as her dumpy legs could carry her dumpier carcass. I thought of committing suicide; but just at that moment the chambermaid came to tell me that the tailor had called to know how I liked my new coat. I pushed my arm through one of the holes that had been burned in the back of it,-tottered into the dining-room where he was waiting for me,—and fell in a swoon at his feet. ORIGINAL POETRY. THE BARDS OF BRITAIN. By David Tweedie. I threw off My cook I sat by I [We have a shrewd suspicion that Mr David Tweedie has had less to do with the following composition than our friend the Ettrick Shepherd, through whom the manuscript reached us.-Ed. Lit. Jour.] We begin with Sir Walter Scott, Who is, and yet is not, A poet of the first note; Yet I think it has been his lot Some things to have wrote That will never be forgot. There's that mighty Lord of Byron, Who is like a red-hot iron, Or, as in Scripture told, Like Ephraim of old; One side with passions burn'd, Like a cake that is unturn'd, And the other cold as leaven Unto either earth or heaven. Mr Robert Southey- There's one Wordsworth by name, For his soul is a moon-streamer, There's his friend, the Ettrick Shepherd, There's one Allan Cunninghame, But I'm sorry I scarce know of him I have only seen his tragedy, Right clever, though quite mad she be, But too long I have neglected On the Warning of Lochyell; There are poets of great fame, Which I scarcely know by name; Which can easily be learn'd From spontaneous confession In the turn of his expression. There's a chap I fain would mangle, With a name like a triangle A poet most profound, If poetry is sound; But, for all the world, one I call With a tinkling harmonical;— That man's common sense to gather To talk well of tarry woo, I have lately heard some raillery Of a poet, Mr Sillery, A name the most egregious, And a poet most outrageous. And Kennedy and Motherwell, A chap that wears a beard, But the names that stand around me Of all the poetations, Is a moorfowl of the fell, that many enquiries having been made when a third series of Whims and Oddities would come forth, in order to allay such doubts, for the future, it has been determined by the author, that the work in question shall become periodical. In this periodical he will aim at creating a laugh from year to year. The work is to be strictly unserious, and will take its Chance with Hurst of 65, St Paul's Churchyard. Historical Recollections of Henry of Monmouth, the Hero of Agin court, and other eminent characters, are announced. We understand that the Transactions of the Plinian Society of Edinburgh will speedily be published. PHILOSOPHICAL TABLES.-This is a brochure from the pen of the learned author of the Contest of the Twelve Nations, and is meant as supplementary to that work. We have looked over these Tables with considerable interest, and recommend them to the attention of the antiquarian and the scholar. Dr Hamilton, Professor of Mathematics in the Marischal College, Aberdeen, and author of the well-known treatises on Finance, the Sinking Fund, &c., in opposition to the calculations of Dr Price, died at Aberdeen on the 14th inst. in the 87th year of his age. Theatrical Gossip.-Cimarosa's fine opera of "Il Matrimonio Segreto," has been revived at the King's Theatre. Sontag, Malibran, and Zuchelli, sustained the principal parts with great applause. -Liston is now playing at the Haymarket-A new farce, called "Incog, or What's in a Name?" has failed at the English Opera House." The Sister of Charity," by Banim, supported by Miss Kelly's acting, still continues to be the great attraction at this theatre. -Mr Matthews, the comedian, who is making a provincial tour with Yates, on their way to France, was nearly killed on the stage at Plymouth, a few days ago, by the unexpected fall of the curtain, which struck him on the head, and rendered him insensible for an hour and a half. He has since recovered, and resumed his performances.Miss Mitford's tragedy of "Rienzi" has been very successfully performed at Dublin. This lady has very nearly finished another Tragedy, which is to be acted at Drury Lane in the early part of the ensuing season, Miss Phillips and Young sustaining the principal parts. -Miss Foote, whose retiring from the stage has been formally announced at least half-a-dozen times, is still playing in the provinces, and is about to visit Liverpool.-The English Company has com menced its season in Paris; Mrs West is their principal female actress, Miss Smithson having not yet joined them.-We observe that the Liverpool papers contradict the report, that Madame Caradori received only £35 at her benefit there. They state that she was engaged for three nights, and that the least receipt on any one night was upwards of £100. They also mention that their theatrical season has not been an unfavourable one.-Nothing new in the dramatic world is stirring in this quarter of the island. CAPTAIN BROOKE, who is already known as a Northern traveller, has ready for the press a volume of travels in Barbary and Spain. A Manual of Art is preparing for publication, which will contain a critique on seventy of the masters of the old school; and also a catalogue of upwards of two thousand of their principal paintings, on the Continent and in England. Mr William Hasking has in the press a Popular System of Architecture, to be illustrated with engravings, and exemplified by reference to well-known structures. It is intended as a class, or text-book, in that branch of liberal education, and will contain an explanation of the scientific terms which form its vocabulary, and are of constant occurrence. The Second Volume of Colonel Napier's History of the War in the Peninsula, will shortly appear. The Rudiments of the Anglo-Saxon Language, by Joseph Gwilt, Esq. are in the press. Sir R. Phillips announces a Standard Dictionary of Arts and Sciences, in which the authorities will be given for every definition; and the text will be liberally illustrated with woodcuts. We understand that the new work by Cooper, the American novelist, which will speedily appear, is to be entitled "The Borderers; or the Wept of Wish-ton-Wish." The name sounds rather oddly in English ears. A Picture of Australia, comprising, in a small compass, all that is known of New Holland and Van Diemen's Land, is announced. Sir Walter Scott is employed on a Third Series of Tales of a Grandfather, which will relate principally to those stirring periods of Scotch History, the fifteen and forty-five. Besides her Book of the Boudoir, Lady Morgan is also preparing for publication, the result of her Observations on Parisian Society and Manners, under the title of Sketches, Mr Thomas Hood, in announcing his Comic Annual, mentions, TO OUR CORRESPONDENTS. We cannot find room for the paper written in the style of the "Economy of Human Life."-We shall endeavour to comply with the request of " A. L."-We have forwarded the communication of "F. H." to "Lorma." "F. H." should recollect that the songs were only said to be "Frenchified," not "Translated." "The Nightmare" is in types.-We shall endeavour to find a place for the "Lines written by the Leithen.”—“ J. C." of Glasgow had better send us one or two other specimens of his poetical abilities. -The Lines by " J. R." will not suit us. We regret to learn, that a communication forwarded to us through Mr Sinclair, of Dumfries, by some accident never reached us. We shall be glad to hear from Mr Sinclair at his convenience. WE have to apologise this week to our advertising friends for postponing their favours, being anxious to overtake several literary articles which have stood over too long. We shall not often infringe upon the space we set apart for them. Edinburgh: Published for the Proprietors, every Saturday Morning, by CONSTABLE & CO. 19, WATERLOO PLACE; Sold also by ROBERTSON & ATKINSON, Glasgow; W. CURRY, jun. & Co., Dublin; HURST, CHANCE, & Co. London; and by all Newsmen, Postmasters, and Clerks of the Road, throughout the United Kingdom. Price 6d. or Stamped, and sent free by post, 10d. Printed by BALLANTYNE & Co. Paul's Work, Canongate. AMERICAN literature is as yet a very small thing. Nor do we say this as a reproach; it is impossible that it could be otherwise. A great nation has a thousand things to do before it can sit down and either write or read books. Literature is the offspring, not of civilization alone, but of a considerable degree of luxury. In the infancy of states, all classes are too much engrossed with the pressing affairs of the moment, to be able either to moralize or philosophize on paper concerning them. Laws have to be made, lands have to be cleared, cities have to be built, provisions have to be procured, public officers have to be elected, foreign and domestic enemies have to be held at bay, and life must be one constant scene of activity and bustle. What matters it to the inhabitants of such a state, that the Egyptians were learned in astronomy thousands of years ago? Will the man who has read Homer and Herodotus be able to open a store, or general wholesale and retail shop, with greater advantage to himself and the community? Should Horace " De Arte Poetica," or Cicero against Catiline, be studied, by way of preparation for cutting down trees in the back settlements? Will young ladies pore over fashionable novels, if there be not a single fashionable person in the place of their nativity? Or will gentlemen delight in "Tours to the Continent," if their whole minds be taken up with the discovery of some practicable means of making a tour through their own estate? It is right that all young dynasties should have next to no literature, else it will be built on a sandy foundation, and will not last above a dozen lustrums. Look for the golden age in the literature of all countries, and it will be invariably found, that it is to be dated at a period when the country had acquired stability and vigour throughout all its ramifications. Intellectual pre-eminence has never yet been gained in any one instance, until by its display of physical strength, resources, and achievements, a nation has proved itself entitled to respect. It is only when the sword hangs upon the wall, that has flashed triumphantly over the battle-field, and when the gallant vessel lies idle in the harbour, whose thunders have been heard afar upon the main, and when the peasant sleeps securely, and the wealth of the noble glitters unmolested, it is only then that the voice of song will be listened to in the valley, or on the green hill side, and that philosophy may be seen on the house-tops counting the stars. PRICE 6d. Let us not twit the Americans, then, with wanting as yet what it has always taken ages to obtain a national literature. They know well what they are about, and slowly and surely they are following out the natural order of things. It is folly to say, as has been said, that the Americans, being our descendants, and speaking our language, and reading our classics, enjoy the same advantages that we do, and ought already to be producing as many literary characters as we ourselves. They are our descendants, it is true, and may certainly bless their stars that the English language is their mother tongue; but they have become an independent people, entirely separated from us by an immense ocean, and, as yet, have had little enough time to think of how they are to gain a position in the world at all, and scarcely any time to think of how they are to maintain that position. But, short as their time has been, they have made good progress towards getting things into a regular train; and when once all the machinery of their vast empire is properly fitted, there is every reason to believe that it will proceed to work at a rate which will not lightly astonish some of the lazy pieces of worn-out clock-work, now feebly ticking and vibrating in the old world. Let but the " mighty heart" of that vast continent send forth the blood in free and healthy circulation through all its arteries and veins, and it will rise up the "giant of the western wave," to laugh, perhaps, at the feeble flights of our earlier and less concentrated genius. Behind the Americans, as it were, lie all the lore and long-cherished associations of Asia, Africa, and Europe; before them, is their own fresh, boundless, and magnificent land. They may cull what they choose from the past, they may mould it into any forms they please; but the power of creation is in the future; and why should they not "call spirits from its vasty deep?" Why should they not find, by Ontario's shores, or on Chimboraco's height, or by Mississippi's stream, or in New England's depth of forest, that for which our best and noblest have long looked in vain-a new source of poesy-higher and sublimer glimpses into the hidden mysteries of nature? These reflections have been partly suggested to us by looking over the works whose titles stand at the head of this article. The Atlantic Souvenir, which has now existed for four years, is a publication precisely similar in its plan and appearance to the Literary Souvenir of this country. It was the first of the American annuals; but both Boston and New York speedily followed the example of Philadelphia. Every article in these works, with the exception of one or two minor pieces by Mrs Hemans, is the production of Americans; and as the editors have followed the example set them in Great Britain, of endeavouring to collect contributions from all their most celebrated writers, these volumes afford a pretty fair specimen of what the Americans can at present do in this way. We are no great admirers of the intellectual strength even of our English annuals; but, nevertheless, against the celebrated names which they bring into the literary arena, we are afraid that those of Percival, Paulding, Bryant, Halleck, Barker, Sedgwick, Brooks, and Waln, make but a poor appearance. It is hardly fair, however, to subject to so trying a contrast these Transatlantic authors. We shall |