formed muscular man, of about six feet high, of a fair complexion, with light brown hair, approaching to yellow, but not to red, which hangs in long dishevelled locks over his ears. His dress was careless, and his whole appearance gave one the idea of a man, whose thorough contempt for every thing like foppery is carried perhaps into the other extreme. His countenance is fine but stern-nay, at times fierce, with a high forehead, and eyebrows which, though not strongly marked, give a keen severity to the expression of his face by their frequent depression, and by their contraction, till they almost cover the piercing grey eye which shines out beneath, like that of an eagle. With a quick step he took his placè at his desk, laid down his, watch beside him, and spread out a roll of papers, over which he glanced till every thing was still. Then leaning forward, he bent his brows, and began his lecture in a full, clear, distinct voice. Accent be has very little, and what there is, I should have judged to be Irish rather than Scotch. The part of his subject under immediate consideration was Sympathy, not considered as a mere transient effervescence of feeling, but with Smith's more extended view, as the great agent by which our moral perceptions are guided and regulated. In the first instance, he confined himself to giving a clear, distinct, and logical analysis of Smith's system; and never did I hear so lucid and tangible an explanation of an abstruse and difficult subject. It required no intense attention-no laborious effort of thought-no complicated manœuvre of the brain, to follow him from position to position; but all was easy and clear; and, if the mind did not always coincide in the conclusions of the author whose system was discussed, it could never for a moment doubt what the lecturer meant. Between each sentence he paused for two or three minutes, to allow his hearers to grasp his argument, and fixed a keen and enquiring eye upon them, as if to read in their countenances whether they did or did not fully comprehend. When he thought there was the least doubt, he repeated what he had said, with some slight variation in form; and then proceeded to another part of his subject. At first though as a cold philosophical inquiry nothing could be more satisfactory than Professor Wilson's elucidation of his subject— yet I confess I did not find what I had expected. The language of his lecture was strong, applicable, elegant. No tautology was heard, no loose change of person, no mixed or imperfect figure; but I missed at first, the wild poetical genius, the daring talent of the Isle of Palms," or the "City of the Plague." But as the lecture proceeded, its character began to change; the logical establishment of particular principles being accomplished, more room was left for the poet and the orator, and a new spirit seemed to animate the speaker. He reasoned on the nature and the power of conscience, and showed how, by judg ing of others, we learned to judge ourselves. He spoke of the "Phantom Censor" we raise up in our own bosoms, to examine and reprove our actions; and as he did so, the fulness of his tone increased, his brow expanded, his eye flashed, and he painted the" inexorable judge within us, who may sleep but cannot die," in a burst of the most powerful and enthusiastic eloquence. A murmur of approbation and pleasure followed from the whole class, joined to a certain shuffling of the feet, which I find is in Edinburgh the usual and somewhat indecorous mark of applause with which the students honour their Professors on any occasion of peculiar brilliancy. Shortly after, the lecturer finished, and all the motley crowd tumbled out to hear some other theme discussed, perliaps as different from that which they had just heard as the range of human intellect will permit. In taking Algiers, the French have conquered a kingdom as large as Spain, with as fine a climate, and commanding the entrance to that land of terrors and treasures-the central region of Africa. The French are just the people to make something of those savages. They are going on a la Francaise in all points. They teach the Moors to dance, curl their moustaches, and lounge in opera-boxes. They have compelled the Moors to clean their streets, and do not despair of making them wash their shirts and faces in time. They have run up a central avenue through Algiers, and ventilated the town. They have slain the mongrels that infested the streets, and reduced an establishment of dunghills as venerable as Mahomet. They have built an opera-house, ordering the wealthy Moors to put down their names on the box-list, and subscribe, as becomes patrons of the fine arts. They have arranged a circle of private boxes in this theatre, to which the ladies of the several harems have keys, and where they listen to Italian songs, learn to be delighted with the romantic loves of Europe, and turn over a leaf in human nature, which no Algerine + From the Monthly Magazine.-No. LXI. Houri ever turned before. A detachment of dancing-masters has been brigaded for the service, and modistes "from Paris" are rapidly opening shops in the "Grande Rue Royale." The ladies are, as might be expected, in raptures with the change, and go out shopping with the air of an élégante of the Fauxbourg St. Germain. Galignani, daily communicates to the Algerine coffee-houses the news of a world of which they hitherto knew no more than of the news of the dog-star. All is gaiety, gesticulation, and the march of intellect. If a great three-tailed bashaw feels disposed to express the slightest dislike of the new regime, they order him to be shaved, dispossess him of his turban, pipe, and scymetar, and send him to learn the manual exercise under one of their serjeants. The remedy is infallible. In twelve hours a revolution is effected in all his opinions; he learns the French art of looking delighted under all circumstances, and returns from the drill a changed man. The offended Mauritanian is disciplined out of him, and the parade has inducted him into the march of mind for the rest of his days. The French are distilling brandy from sea-weed; are teaching buffaloes to draw their cabriolets; have already formed a subscription pack of tiger-hounds; and, except that they are scorched to a cinder, with the more serious evils that they must wait a week for the Paris news, and have not yet been able to prevail on Potier and Mademoiselle Du Fay to join their theatre, are as happy as sultans. Sure is my venture, for all honest folk, Oh, my kind friends! befriend me still, as you PROVISION AGAINST FIRE IN THEATRES AND OTHER PUBLIC BUILDINGS.+ To provide security from fire in theatres and other public buildings is a matter of very especial importance. Where such a calamity happens, the effects are tremen ADDRESS SPOKEN BY MADAME dous; the loss of property and life in the confusion which necessarily ensues is always very great. Such calamities have very frequently occurred in this metropolis, and may always be considered a probable occurrence from the combustibility of the materials with which great part of the contents of the theatres are constructed, as well as the nature of the substances used to illustrate some of the scenery. At the time of re-constructing the thetre L'Odéon, in Paris, after its destruction by fire, it became a question whether a metallic screen should not be interposed at the proscenium, between the public part and the stage, for the purpose of preventing the rapid communication of the com bustion of the parts behind the scene, or upon the stage, to the body of the theatre. M. d'Arcet strongly opposed the use of an impermeable screen, but recommended one of wire, and founded his opinion on the + From the Scientific Gazette.—No, III, following fact, which if generally known, might tend to give a degree of self possession to the public in a theatre, which would be of advantage if ever they should be placed in such a critical situation. This philosopher had an opportunity of witnessing accurately the first destruction of L'Odéon by fire, in the year 1799. He then remarked that the fire spread rapidly behind the scenes, but without any smoke appearing in the body of the theatre, and he was able to remain for a long time in one of the second tier of boxes on the left side, without being inconvenienced by the heat, and having nothing as a protection but the powerful current of air which passed through the theatre, and proceeded to invigorate the combustion of the scenery and wood-work upon the stage. Nearly the whole of that part of the theatre was on fire, but the public portion was quite untouched, when a piece of inflamed wood fell on the left side of the centre, rebounded over the balustrade, fell into the orchestra, and then set fire to one of the benches in the pit. The combustion of that part thus commenced; but the current of air towards the stage was so rapid, that the smoke passed nearly horizontally towards it, and the fire made but slow progress in the pit. He witnessed this effect for more than half an hour, and beheld the orchestra and nearly the whole of the pit in flames, without there being any sensible portion of smoke in the body of the theatre above the first tier of boxes. He was then obliged to work at a pump, and prevented from observing any longer the progress of the fire. M. d'Arcet, reasoning from his own observations, thus justly considers that a metallic screen would, in any such case, have done more harm than good. Supposing it strong enough to withstand the pressure of the air upon it, it would soon become red-hot, and causing the ascent of a column of heated air on its side towards the body of the theatre, would in every way tend to inflame that part of the building. It would also confine the air there, and in a few minutes render it unfit for respiration. On the contrary, an open metallic screen with large meshes would appear to present great advantage; the air would pass freely, and consequently exert no great degree of pressure upon it; the screen itself would be preserved cool by the rapid current going through it; inflamed pieces of wood when falling would be retained on the side already in flames; the firemen could throw water through it upon the burning places on the opposite side, and none of the inconveniences would be occasioned by it which so evidently belong to an impermeable iron screen. In Paris, the architect is obliged by law to construct a thick wall across the theatre between the audience part and the stage with all behind or belonging to it. The following are the directions which M. d'Arcet gives, in case a fire occurs at such a theatre, when the stage opening can be shut at pleasure by a metallic screen consisting of wire sixteen-hundredths of an inch in thickness, and with square intervals about two inches in width. Supposing the fire to commence with the decorations upon the stage, the immediate help which may always be at hand should be applied, and the firemen sent for; all means should be taken to quell the flaines, until the hope of extinguishing the fire 'is gone. The system should then be changed; the ventilators over the body of the theatre are to be closed, the screen lowered, all the doors into the lower part of the body of the theatre opened to admit air; the ventilating flue over the stage is to be opened, and the glass of the sky-lights and upper windows of that part broken by stones, or otherwise: a powerful current of air will then be estab lished, which entering by the vestibule will pass into the theatre through the screen, carry the flames and smoke towards the back of the theatre, and ont at the upper apertures on that side. That done every means possible must be taken to throw the inflamed wood-work towards the bottom of the theatre, to prevent the calcination of the large wall. The firemen in the pit should water the wires of the metallic screen and extinguish the flames near to it. Some of them with long poles should be ready to thrust any machinery or inflamed wood which may fall on the screen backwards; whilst others should watch the body of the theatre, to extinguish small portions of tire, that might accidentally pass the screen. The fire thus confined to the back of the theatre would be more readily extinguished by the ordinary means; or, if the fire happened on the other side of the screen, then a similar system should be pursued, always considering that part in which the fire is strongly established, as a furnace, and removing all burning portions as fast as possible from the part to be preserved towards the place where combustion is allowed. Were the above copious and excellent directions of the French philosopher attended to, it is impossible to predict the advantage which would arise both in security of life and property, in those cases in which so unhappy a calamity takes place. The construction of public buildings, store-houses, and manufactures, in such a manner as to prevent the progress of fire, has been latterly much attended to in this country; and many buildings are erected in which not only are the roofs, but also the girders, joists, doors, sashes, and frames, made of cast iron. The new store house, in Plymouth dockyard, has its floors of Yorkshire stone; and the staircase, which is a geometrical oue, is of moor-stone. The iron screen, suggested by M. d'Arcet, is a most important additional security in any case where a large aperture is of necessity left. Let no man no man have two houses with one set of furniture. Home's deepest delight is undisturbance. Some people think no articles fixtures but grates. But sofas, and ottomans, and chairs, and footstools, and screens-and above all beds-all are fixtures in the dwelling of a wise man, cognoscitive and sensitive of the blessings of this life. Each has its own place assigned to it by the taste, tact, and feeling, of the master or mistress of the mansion, where order and elegance minister to comfort, and comfort is but a homely word for happiness. In various modes we vary their arrangement nor is even the easiest of all easy chairs secure for life against being gently pushed on its wheels from chimney-nook to windowcorner, when the sunshine may have extinguished the fire, and the blue sky tempts the Paterfamilias, to lie back, with half-shut eyes, and gaze upon the cheerful purity, even like a shepherd on the hill. But these little occasional disarrange ments serve but to preserve the spirit of permanent arrangement, without which the very virtue of domesticity dies. What sacrilege, therefore, against the Lares and Penates, to turn a whole house topsyturvy, from garret to cellar, regularly as May flowers deck the zone of the year! Why, a Turkey, or a Persian, or even a Wilton, or a Kidderminster carpet, is as much the garb of the wooden floor inside, as the grass is of the earthen floor outside of your house. Would you lift and lay down the greensward? But without further illustration-be assured the cases are kindred-and so too with sofas and shrubs, tent-beds and trees. Independently, however, of these analogies, and fanciful but lying deep in the nature of things, the inside of one's tabernacle, in town and country, ought ever to be sacred, from all radical revolutionary move "rom Blackwood's Magazine.e ments, and to lie for ever in a waking dream of graceful repose. All our affections towards lifeless things bes come tenderer and deeper in the continuous and unbroken flow of domestic habit. The eye gets lovingly familiarized with each object occupying its own peculiar and appropriate place, and feels in a moment when the most insignificant is missing or removed. We say not a word about children, for even they, if brought up Christians, are no dissenters from this creed, and however rackety in the nursery, in an orderly kept parlour or drawing-room how like so many pretty little white mice do they glide cannily along the floor! Let no such horror then as a fitting ever befal us or our friends! O mercy! only look at a long huge train of waggons, heaped up to the windows of the first floors, moving along the dustdriving or mire-choked streets with fuiniture from a gutted town-house towards one standing in the rural shades with an empty stomach! All is dimmed or destroyed - chairs crushed on the tableland, and fourposted beds lying helplessly with their astonished feet up to heaven-a sight that might make the angels weep! VARIETIES. Tit for Tut.-The king was repeatedly at Weymouth, for the benefit of sea air. One morning he was taking his usual walk, which he often did alone, and about the palace, very early, when he came into contact with two sentinels, and was challenged by one of them, as being on forbidden ground, with "I say old one, you have no business there." The king's dress, the morning being cold, was a great coat, which concealed his person and made the new recruit mistake him for a country farmer. Both sentinels belonged to a regiment which had marched in, only the evening before. One of them only knew the king, but was prevented checking the bluntness of his companion by the king going up to the challenger and keeping up his disguise. The sentinel and the king had a few words together, when the latter gave him a crown, in true kingly style, knowing that the man only did his duty and meant no harm, and that strangers were forbidden entrance into that part of the premises. On the king retiring, and before he was out of hearing, the challenger went up to the other seutinel and shaking the money in his hand, said, "I have done the old one out of five shillings," when he was thunder-struck, by his com Kindness of Wilkie the Painter.-A young mau-now a painter of eminence-when the fit of art fell upon him, came to London, resolved to Commence painter at once. He had a letter of introduction to a member of the Royal Academy, a distinguished one-he was received with politeness, and was emboldened to request some information concerning the mode of making up a palette and employing colours. "Young man," said this person, panion saying "Why-do you know that was the king!" The king heard it and passed away, leaving the poor sentinel ready to shrink his head to the very soles of the shoes. The king loved a merry thing, and remembered the transaction; for, two years after, he was going into the house of peers, at the meeting of parliament, and in passing between two files of soldiers from the carriage to the door, he recognized the gentleman recruit who had so politely accosted him at Wey-"there are mysteries in my art, these are month, and turning round, suddenly all dressed him with, "I say, have you done another old one out of five shillings since I saw you last?" The king went smiling into the honse of peers and left the soldier wishing to sink into the earth.-Gazette of Education. Count Gondomar's opinion of Queen Elizabeth and the Reformers.—In the castle of Simancas, in Spain, where the ancient records of the Spanish monarchy are kept, there are some letters written by the Count of Goudomar, a Spanish nobleman, who was with Philip II. in England, to his first cousin the Archbishop of Seville. Amongst them there is an answer to one from that prelate, in which, as it would appear, he had asked if the count was of opinion that Protestantism would again prevail in England after Queen Mary's death. The count answered, "About what you ask, whether our religion will prevail after our queen's death, I'll tell you, that if God helps the thing, it will be possible, because to him everything is possible; but I assure you that only the Almighty can do it. In the first place, the nobility are sighing for the property of the convents, of which they were very justly deprived by our queen, and I firmly believe that to possess it again they would turn Jews, if that were necessary. As for the middle classes, they are so fond of reading the bible, that no good, you know, can be expected from them; and as to the lower orders, they have found out that it is considerably cheaper to be Protestants, and they consider the thing quite in a trading point of view. It is possible that they might go on as before, if the new queen were like her late sister; but no two people were ever less alike. I was acquainted with Elizabeth in England, and either I am very much mistaken, or she will never be ruled by anybody; she will not be a Catholic, if it were only to prevent our Holy Father from commanding her; she looks as she were born to rule not only states but churches; and I am sure that, were she not a Protestant already, she would become one, that she might be the head of everything in the kingdom." of them, which are not to be told, and must be discovered by long study-1 wish you a good morning." Thus repulsed, said our informant, I resolved to be more wary with Wilkie, to whom I had a letter also-I saw him, was received kindly, and as soon as possible I began to hunt for the information I wanted as ingeniously as I could. Wilkie turned sharply round, and said, "O you want to know how to prepare your palette, and commence on canvas? had you said so at first, it would have saved going round the bush-come with me." He took me into his paintingroom, and would not let me go away, till he saw that I had mastered the difficulty, to a certain extent. As we parted, he said, smiling, "Come back, if I can help you further-come back at any rate.”Athenæum. The Ettrick Shepherd's and Professor Wilson's Portical Tills.-The Ettrick Shepherd and Professor Wilson were at one time in the habit of tilting verses against each other. The following account is given in one of the commentaries to Mr Hogg's songs. "The song, O weel befa' the maiden gay,' was written at Ellery, Mr. Wilson's seat in Westmoreland, where a number of my very best things were written. There was a system of competition went on there, the most delightful that I ever engaged in. Mr. Wilson and I had a Queen's Wake every wet day—a fair set to who should write the best poem between breakfast and dinner; and, if I am any judge, these friendly competitions produced several of our best poems, if not the best ever written on the same subjects before. Mr. Wilson, as well as Southey and Wordsworth, had all of them a way of singing out their poetry in a loud sonorous key, which was very impressive, but perfectly ludicrous. Wilson at that period composed all his poetry by going over it in that sounding strain; and in our daily competitions, although our rooms were not immediately adjoining, I always overbeard what progress he was making. When he came upon any grand idea, he opened upon it full swell, with all the energy of a fine fox-hound on a hot trail. If I heard many of these vehement aspirations they weak |