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confines itself to the discussion of the origin, distribution, right to it; in the second, of the distribution of wealth and availability of a nation's wealth.

Without correct among individuals, and between them and the governideas on these points, a legislator blunders in the dark. ment. There is nothing very new in this arrangement; He, on the other hand, who would regulate the whole of nor is there any thing very new in the internal arrangea nation's concerns on an acquaintance with these matters ments of these two grand divisions, except that in the alone, betrays his ignorance of other and equally essential first book he postpones the consideration of the right to branches of knowledge. But who would reject a valu- wealth till after the investigation of its origin, instead of able medicine because a quack has occasionally done harm assuming it to be already understood, as has been done by by prescribing it where it was inapplicable? It has been other Economists—a matter in regard to which we have further objected to this science, that there is not one of already expressed our opinion. In the rest of the first its principles which is not at present warmly controverted. book, and in the whole of the second, he has strictly obThis uncertainty, however, is not to be sought in the served the arrangement now generally adopted. science itself, but in the confused heads of those who write With regard to the manner in which Mr Read has and talk about it.. In these blessed days of press-freedom, executed his task, we find in the first part of the work a every body writes, and almost every body prints.

It can- great deal of unnecessary redundancy_as, for example, not fail, therefore, that, on a subject of such immediate in his definition of wealth, which, with its illustrations, interest, many who have but a smattering of the matter, extends to eleven pages, and contains nothing that has not and many who have not even that, must have their say. been already said both better and more briefly. He is But the baziness and inconsistency of their conceptions also apt to pass into digressions quite irrelevant to the must not be attributed to the science, of which it is but subject in hand, and which materially retard the progress justice to form our notions by taking it as it stands in the of the investigation. The second book is almost entirely works of its masters. Lastly, it has been objected, that taken up with controversy, which we can by no means many of the most plausible and seemingly most firmly approve of in an institutional work. It misleads the established principles of political economy have failed as mind from the object immediately in hand, by diverting soon as an attempt was made to put them into practice. it from the consideration of broad and general principles, The answer to this is, that, changed though the social and breaking down its attention among a thousand petty system of Europe be since the Reformation, many of the details. Nor do we think that he treats Messrs Ricardo old institutions are still influentially alive ; and that this and Malthus with that courtesy which the talents and renders impossible the full application of the economical high rank of these gentlemen in the science demand, be doctrines. The mere practical man, who would seek to their doctrines right or wrong. Nor are they to be conbring them into operation in all their extent, betrays there- futed by statements of alleged statistical facts, in support by his ignorance of the actual state of society. He for- of which no evidence is produced. gets, as Locksby would say, to allow for the wind.

On the whole, this is the work of a man of great naIn this notice we have omitted many meritorious la- tural shrewdness, who might be able to discuss some isobourers in the field of political economy, either because lated question with spirit and success, but who is by no they confined their attention to some isolated question, or means adequate to the task of a systematic and exhaustive because they were useful merely as redacteurs. To have investigation. His arrangement is not new, nor have mentioned them all, would have extended our sketch to we found one new principle established in the whole of an undue length. We have been induced to take the re- it. Even his vaunted enquiry into the origin of the trospect, as the best method of placing us in a situation right to property is not brought to bear upon the subseto judge of the value of the work whose title stands at the quent disquisitions. Throughout the book we find the head of the article-a task to which we now proceed. most acute remarks placed in immediate conjunction

Mr Read pretaces his labours with a complaint of the with the most laughable puerilities. It is an example at indefinite and uncertain nature of the science as it at pre- once of the necessity of training a mind from childhood sent stands—an allegation which we have already shown to systematic investigation, in order to ensure success in to be without foundation. The possible limits of the science; and of the insufficiency of what is generally science are already almost completely investigated, and called “ strong common sense” for this purpose, when what has been ascertained, is by the better class of wri- unsupported by more comprehensive and penetrating inters clearly and explicitly stated. But assuming for a

tellectual powers. moment that Mr Read's view of the matter is correct, let us see what remedy he proposes. “ Political Economy The Waverley Novels. New Edition. Vols. Five and has been hitherto designated as the science which treats Six. The Antiquary. Edinburgh. Cadell & Co of the production and distribution of wealth, and it has

1829. been totally overlooked that this includes the demonstration

We are not among those who make it a rule to pick of right to wealth. It is here, therefore, for the first time, treated as an investigation concerning right to wealth, (or volumes, and transfer them to our pages.

out all the notes and new matter which appear in these

We have no property ;) and this innovation, while it gives a more important and a more definite object to the science, presents though we had, we are strongly inclined to suspect that

taste for thus licking the paws of a literary lion; and, it under a new and totally different aspect from that in

the circulation of these volumes exceeds even that of the which it has hitherto appeared, and causes it to assume an entirely new shape." The assertion contained in the tively profitless. The ivork goes on steadily, and

is als

LITERARY JOURNAL, so that the task would be comparapassuge in Italics is incorrect. The necessity of a pre- ways handsomely printed and neatly illustrated ; though vious knowledge of the abstract doctrines of right to property, in order to a thorough understanding of the discus- than they are.

we think that some of the frontispieces might be better sions of Political Economy, has been admitted by every writer on the subject, from Quesnay downwards. But this knowledge must be derived from the study of ra

The Log-Book, or Journal of a Voyage betwixt Leith and

London. Leith. tional jurisprudence; and we see no benefit to be obtained

R. W. Hume. 1830. from confounding two sciences, which, however they This is an amusing enough collection of odds and ends, may bear upon and mutually illustrate each other, are es- besides comprising some information which will be useful sentially distinct.

to the voyager. We think we could glance over this Logo Let us proceed, however, to look not at what our au- Book when lying sea-sick in our berth, and disposed to thor has promised, but what he has really performed. read nothing else. Steam is destroying the romance of the His work is divided into two books, In the first, he sea, but there is still something poetical in the movements treats of the origin of wealth, and the natural grounds of of a Leith and London smack.

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Marsh's Improved Family Journal and Memoranda, for drawn up in the street, containing the friends of my be

1830. London. William Marsh and Alfred Miller. loved master, and deputations from public bodies, who Edinburgh. Constable & Co.

have come to enquire after his health.

Author of Waverley. Certainly no occurrence, since the This is an exceedingly useful and desirable publication. conclusion of the late war, has occasioned such a sensation We recommend it heartily to all careful housewives, and in the country as the illness of the EDITOR. The bullebachelors of limited incomes.

tins which we have issued every three hours do not seem

to be considered minute enough. I wish, my good Peter, MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE.

that you could only persuade his friends and the public in general, that every thing which can be done for mortal

man shall be done for him. Sir Astley Cooper and Mr THE EDITOR IN HIS SLIPPERS;

Abernethy have both come, of their own accord, from OR,

London, and they are at this moment closeted with the

first physicians and surgeons of Edinburgh. No. v.

Peter (with tears in his eyes.) I shall do all in my “Stulta, jocosa, canenda, dolentia, seria, sacra,

power. But I can little console others, when I stand so En posita ante oculos, Lector amice, tuos;

much in need of consolation myself.
Quisquis es, hic aliquid quod delectabit habebis;
Tristior an levior, selige quicquid amas."

[Looks towards a table on which there is a case of

liqueurs. The Author of Waverley pours out a glass SCENE.—The Editor's Bed-chamber. The Editor is dis

of noyau, and hands it to Peter. He drinks it in covered in a magnificent bed, wearing a rose-coloured

silence, looks at his master, bursts into tears, and night-cap, which casts a delicate tinge over his naturally

Exit. pale complexion. On one side of the bed is seated the

Ed. of Edin. Review. I have been watching the EdiAuthor of Waverley, and on the other the original Edi

tor for the last five minutes, and, as far as I can judge, I tor of the Edinburgh Review. The room is partially think there is a change operating for the better. darkened ; but, through the crimson damask window-curtains, a softened light is admitted. The furniture of

Re-enter Peter. the most splendid description ; and several tables are seen

Peter. A crowd of persons has broken into the house. covered with every species of delicacy. Elevated upon a

There is a panic through the whole city. An impression tasteful marble pedestal, and under a large glass case, are

has gone abroad that the Editor is dead, and all business the Editor's SLIPPERS. The Editor appears to be is at a stand. The deputation from the Faculty of Adasleep. There is a long pause, during which the Au- vocates is already attempting to force its way up stairs. thor of Waverley and the original Editor of the

Ed. of Edin. Review. This must not be permitted, Edinburgh Review exchange many anxious looks. They will surely listen to the expostulations of their


(Exit. Author of Waverley. For three days and three nights have we watched thus; and for three days and three Poor dumb creatures ! had ye words to express your feel

Peter (kneeling down beside the Editor's SLIPPERS.) nights has he lain speechless and almost motionless.

ings, how soon would your grief be known! But your Ed. of Edin. Review. I fear much that the world affectionate nature is not the less severely wounded by is about to lose him. I think that, even in the serenity the present affliction which has overtaken your master. of bis noble countenance, I can discover the gradual ap

Author of Waverley. Do you then really believe, Peter, proach of the shadow of death.

that these SLIPPERS are endowed with the senses of living Author of Waverley. Nay, I have better hopes. Has things ? he not himself declared, in his own powerful words, that Peter. I have good reason to believe it, sir. I have be will never die? We dare not disbelieve him.

een proofs of their love for the Editor which would alEd. of Edin. Review. But consider the tremendous together astonish you were I to recount them. Perhaps nature of the accident he has met with. To tumble over

you will scarcely credit it when I declare to you, that the three Falls of Clyde in succession, and yet, after being unless when they are put under this glass case, they in, hurried down with the rapidity of lightning from Bon- variably place themselves, of their own accord, immediinton to Stonebyers, to be taken out alive, was itself al- ately beside the Editor's bed. It is all one where I leave most miraculous. That he can ultimately survive is them at night ;-in the morning they are sure to be at surely an impossibility.

their old post, so that as soon as he rises he cannot help Author of Waverley. I will not think so ; for have not putting his feet into them. Nay, I have known him dethe ablest surgeons in the country declared, that with the clare, and I would as soon doubt my Catechism as his exception of the os talaria in the left foot, there is not a

word, that once when he lay awake about midnight, he single bone in his body broken? Besides, it is not likely heard them endeavouring to leap up to his bed, and althat a being of his high destiny should have his career so

ways falling back again, like trouts into the water, with speedily ended.

a small shuffling noise. Ed. of Edin. Review. Hark! he is muttering some- Author of Waverley. This is indeed very strange, Peter, thing through his broken and feverish slumbers. Author of Waverley. The sounds, though they convey

Re-enter original Editor of Edinburgh Review, hastily. no meaning, are full of a mysterious sublimity. How Ed. of Edin. Review. The Director-general, who has finely marked under the coverlet are the outlines of his this moment come in, has been so much agitated that he majestic form! Look, too, at the features of his express has gone into strong hysterics. The Ettrick Shepherd, ive face, which, though even unilluminated by the play of who left Mount Benger at five, and bas galloped the soul

, are, nevertheless, more interesting than any I ever whole way, is eating some cold beef in the dining-room, remember to have beheld.

and weeping like a child. Mr M‘Corkindale, of the Ed. of Edin. Review.

house of Messrs Ballantyne & Co., declares, that though “Wouldst thou see The Editor right,

he has superintended the printing of the Edinburgh ReGo see him in bed by the morning light;

view, Blackwood's Magazine, the Waverley Novels, and In the pride of his st gth he is all too gay,.

almost every work of eminence that has of late years And his eye would blind like the orb of day."

issued from the Scottish press, he never printed any thing [The Author of Waverley bows.

with so much delight as the LITERARY Journal, and

that if the Editor expires, he will never be able to hold Enter Peter, the Editor's confidential servant. up his head again. Mr Murray, of the Theatre-Royal, Peter. A line of carriages, nearly a mile long, has together with Messi's Pritchard and Stanley, protest thirt

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they are perfectly incapable of performing until they hear Author of Waverley. How is the Editor ? Do you better tidings, and I have seldom seen even counterfeit think his strength is rallying ? grief so violent as their real grief. The literary men, Enter Dr Abercrombie, Sir Astley Cooper, and and the booksellers and publishers from all quarters, form

Mr Abernethy. a dense crowd without, as far as the eye can reach.

Dr Abercrombie (feeling the Editor's pulse.) It beats · Author of Waverley. I shall speak to them from one

at the rate of about five pulsations in the minute. of the front windows, and attempt to soothe their trou

Sir Astley Cooper. I think we ought to proceed to the bled minds.

[Erit. Ed. of Edin. Review. Mr Macdonald, the sculptor,

amputation of the talarius.

Mr Abernethy. Let us save it, if possible. After the has so earnestly requested permission to be allowed to take

most minute examination of the heel and ankle, I think a cast of the Editor's face should he cease to breathe, that the bone may be set. I could not altogether refuse hinn, and have promised him

[Sir Astley Cooper lifts up the Editor's left foot at all events, admission to this room. Go down, Peter,

very gently, and bends over it with great caution. and conduct him up as quietly as possible.

The Editor draws up his leg with a slight conrul (Exit Peter.

sive twitch, and, pushing it out again with a similar Ed. of Edin. Review. I am now alone with the great

twitch, tumbles Sir Astley Cooper over on the floor. est man of his age ; and his gigantic might is stretched before me in unconscious listlessness. Will he recover, talarius alone, Sir Astley. It does not appear that the

Mr Abernethy (smiling.) I am afraid we must leave the and again scatter his brilliant thoughts like sunlight over strength of the leg is much impaired. the world? or will he sink into the arms of death, and

Author of Waverley. It seems to me that the crisis has give a new dignity to the grave? If he dies, what will

There is a very visible change in the patient. become of the fresh impulse he has given to the literary See! he has opened his eyes ; and, Heaven be praised ! taste of his country? The Quarterly, and what was

there is the light of life and of mind in them ! once my Edinburgh Review, have fallen into the sere

Dr Abercrombie ( feeling the Editor's pulse.) The blood and yellow. leaf,* and the Literary Journal has risen is rushing back into the heart. The nature of the pulse like a Phenix from their ashes, a bright and beautiful is quite changed. It now beats at the rate of four hwbird, clear of eye and strong of wing. Surely it can never dred and seventy in the minute,-clear, distinct, strong, come down thus speedily from its height of glory!

and pleasurable pulsations. Re-enter Peter, leading in Mr Macdonald on tiptoe. Sir Astley Cooper. In that case, I do not think there Mr Macdonald (approaching the bed, and gazing with is any farther occasion for our services ; and though there marked delight upon the Editor.) What a model for my is no Editor on earth I have so great a respect for as the Achilles ! How finely does that noble form combine the one now before me, I shall certainly take care how I hanmajestic strength of an Ajax, with the delicate beauty of dle any of his brethren in future. a Patroclus! In the countenance I discover the dignity (Exeunt Sir Astley Cooper, Dr Abercrombie, and of the Olympian Jove, with the softer loveliness of the Mr Abernethy. Apollo Belvidere, or the Adonis of Canova. Nothing Ed. of Edin. Review. Behold! he has of his own accould reconcile me to his death, but the certainty of cord put his hand up to his nightcap, and pulled it off his thereby obtaining a cast of so invaluable a face.

head. See how his dark luxuriant tresses, having escaped Peter (gently touching Mr Macdonald on the shoulder, from under it, fall down in rich folds upon his shoulders. and pointing to the Slippers.) Look there!

Re-enter Peter. Mr Macdonald. Ha! these are, indeed, interesting. Peter. Messrs Curry and Co. have arrived from Dub Beside them, how does the celebrated glass slipper of Cin-lin, Messrs Robertson and Atkinson from Glasgow, and derella sink into insignificance! Many a lovely little Mr Lewis Smith from Aberdeen, in a state of mind borfoot have I seen gently insinuated into one of the Mo- dering upon frenzy. rocco pianellas of Italy; yet never did I envy the fate of Author of Waverley. Tell them that the Editor has a slipper so much as at this moment,—for genius immor- this moment come out of his trance, and that his recovery talizes all that it touches.

is now certain. Re-enter the Author of Waverley.

Peter (bursting into tears.) Thank Heaven! thank Author of Waverley. The booksellers and publishers Heaven ! are perfectly clamorous, and will not be satisfied. They Ed. of Edin. Review. There is one thing surprises me. seem to think that from some paltry feelings of envy and I have not heard that the fair sex have been making any jealousy we shall not take proper care of the Editor. enquiries after the Editor. Mr Black is positively looking white with agitation; and Peter. O, sir! do not say that! If you but knew all! Mr White declares he will do us brown if we do not re- There are already seven basketfuls of three-cornered store him to health ; Mr Miller, with tears in his eyes, notes and billet-doux, written on pink paper, yellow calls him the flower of living authors ; Mr Chambers paper, and all sorts of paper, down stairs in the hall; and protests against his being confined to his chambers any the number of ladies who are at this moment like to break longer ; Mr Tait loudly demands a tête-à-tête ; Mr Smith their hearts about him exceeds all computation. says we keep him intentionally under lock and key; Ed. of Edin. Review. This is as it should be. Hark! Messrs Constable and Co. pronounce us worse than coin

What sounds are these? mon police officers; Mr Lothian, to heighten the tumult, (A melodious chorus is heard, as if sung by unseer calls out that the Editor is worth the three Lothians ; beings hovering in the apartment. Mr Boyd, in his usual gentlemanly way, says he is con

Author of Waverley. Gay creatures of the element !" tented to “bide his time," but that if he be not restored to Peter. It is often thus. Scarcely a week elapses withperfect health, he will give us “a Roland for an Oliver;" | out his having such mysterious visitations. All the unMr Carfrae is more obstreperous still, for he declares we seen spirits love him. Hark! again! are selling ourselves, and offered to knock us down. Mr [ The notes gradually swell and become distinct, and at Blackwood alone preserved his temper, and I thought I length the words of the song are plainly heard. could even discover a quiet smile on his benevolent coun

In this state of matters what is to be done? Ed. of Edin. Review. Go down, Peter, and beseech the We come_we come from the east and west, gentlemen below to use their influence towards pacifying We have brought thee gifts from the north and south,

Laden with many a high behest ; the mob.

[Erit Peter.

To add new fire to the words of thy mouth, • Quer" Blue and yellow leaf?"-Printer's Devil





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We have brought thee the mantle wbich Jeffrey wore, its details ; but it will be at once perceived that it is imBut which, yielding to thee, he now wears no more ; posssible for us to vouch for this from personal knowThe mantle he loved when old Ross was Dean,

ledge. The cause of the very dreadful state to which we When his JOURNAL was fresh, and his wits were keen, were reduced for several days, was an accident of rather LIKE THE EDITOR's in his SLIPPERS !

an appalling nature which overtook us. It is just about

a fortnight since, that, after wandering through the deWe have brought thee a ringlet of Byron's hair, lightful parks of Allanton, and admiring what the genius For ever within thy bosom to wear ;

of transplantation, and the taste of Sir Henry Steuart, For a kindred soul bast thou to him,

have there done, we crossed the country to Lanark, and And he often talks with the Seraphim

for the first time visited the Falls of Clyde. The night OF THE EDITOR IN HIS SLIPPERS !

had been stormy, and the river was a good deal swollen ;

but the morning broke out blue and beautiful. Having We have brought thee a pen with which Junius wrote

traversed the grounds of Lady Mary Ross, and arrived Many a letter of pith and note,

at the highest Fall, wbich is Bonniton Linn, we walked Sharp as a needle, and hard as steel;

up to the brink of the foaming precipice, and looked over. For Junius, God wot, was a spunky chiel,

Do not suppose for a moment that our head grew giddy; LIKE THE EDITOR IN HIS SLIPPERS !

our head never grows giddy. But suddenly we felt the

edge of the rock giving way, and the effort we made to We have brought thee a bump from Sir Walter's skull,

regain a firmer footing loosened it altogether. Down we Of the very best kind of brains quite full ;

went into the cataract ! The sounds of the words, whizz! And just to give thee a taste of their quality,

swash! swump! hiss! frore! snore ! gore! convey a We'll add this bump to the Ideality

faint idea of the sensation created by the rush of waters OF THE EDITOR IN HIS SLIPPERS !

into our soul. Down we went through the rapid stream,

tumbling and rolling like a piece of broken cork, yet not We have brought thee a kiss from the loveliest lip

insensible. When we happened for a moment to get That it ever was given to man to sip; A kiss from a maiden of noble blood,

upon our back, we recollect distinctly that there glanced To reward for his love of sweet womanhood

by us, with the rapidity of lightning, high rugged rocks, The EditoR IN HIS SLIPPERS !

overhung with mountain-ash and fir, and brush wood, and far far above a momentary glimpse of sky flashing

like a shattered mirror. Then over we went again upon We have brought thee a bag of thy native air, That blew mid the mountain's flowery hair ;

our face, and water, mixed with pebbles and sand, rush'Twill give thee to breathe, when you pull the string,

ed into our mouth and eyes ; and in our agony we tried All the rosy sweetness of early spring,

to give utterance to some human sound, and once or


rth a deafening roar that echoed up the

precipices and frightened the birds out of their nests. But We have brought thee a bottle from that pure fount

in vain ! Away we went by the woods of Corehouse ; and Which gleams at the foot of the Muses' Mount ;

just as we tumbled over Cora Linn, we recognised Lord 'Twas almost dry,—but we gather'd for thee

Corehouse and a party of ladies, all smirking and smiThe last of the water of Castalie,

ling, who had come to the old mill to take a look at the POET EDITOR IN THY SLIPPERS !

Fall. They did not observe us, and away we flew over

the Linn, and the shock nearly put an end to us. We Arise ! arise ! and receive each gift!

remember nothing distinctly that followed for a long And who shall bis bead so proudly lift,

while; yet we have a faint recollection of foating past As he whose works are all eternal,

the mills at New Lanark, and wishing we had been born Embalm'd in thy Athenian JOURNAL,

a spinner. We had recovered our senses a little by the GREAT EDITOR IN THY SLIPPERS ?

time we came to the Bridge, and were surprised to find a

kind of dreamy and almost pleasing drowsiness stealing [At the conclusion of the Song, the Editor rai es him

The water flows smoothly from the Bridge to self in his bedlooks round with an expression of the Fall of Stonebyers; but as our strength was no longer returning recollectionflings off the bed-clothes- suficient to contend with the current, gentle as it was, rises--pours a bottle of Port into a silver goblet, we resigned ourselves to our fate, whilst, by some strange and drinks it off at a draughtdons a splendid hallucination, our situation began to appear almost agrerdressing-gownthen goes to the marble pelestal-able. We fear that some may doubt the truth of our removes the glass-case, and puts on his SLIPPERS.

assertion, when we state, that as we floated down beAuthor of Waverley. Huzza! huzza ! he is himself tween the bridge and Stonebyers, we actually composed a again!

sonnet, the words of which we have now forgot, although Ed. of Edin. Review. Huzza ! huzza !

we are still certain of the fact. From the moment we Mr Macdonald. Huzza! huzza !

rolled over Stonebyers Fall, recollection forsook us enPeter. Huzza ! huzza !

tirely, and we remember nothing that happened for many Author of Waverley. Let us go forth immediately, and days afterwards, till we started up as if from the grave, communicate the joyful intelligence to the thousands who and found ourselves in our own bedchamber. are waiting without.

informed that we were picked up, and carried to Hamil[Ereunt Author of Waverley, Original Editor of ton, where we lay for dead for some time; but that as

Edin. Review, Mr Macdonald, and Peter, tumultu- vital heat never forsook our body, our friends would not ously. In a few minutes a shout of joy is heard despair. They had us conveyed to our own house ; and 80 loud, that it resembles a thunder-storm concentra- | there, by their indefatigable attention, as we verily beted into one peal. The Editor smiles, and having liere, and not by any supernatural agency, as is generally taken a glass of Marascino, and a biscuit, he goes surmised, we have been finally restored to our wonted out, and is heard slowly descending to his Study. health. This is the sum and substance of our recent adScene closes.

venture ; and having now dwelt long enough on what

concerns ourselves alone, we are anxious to dedicate the Most beloved reader! we speak to thee once more in whole of our renewed vigour (and we feel at this moment our own person. The above scene was committed to stronger than ever we did in our lives) to the cause of writing by one of those who took an active share in it, our country, or, in other words, to the best interests of and we have no doubt that it is entirely accurate in all our readers and contributors. To business, therefore.

over us.

We are



What an accumulated mass of papers ! Let us dive into But softly, gently rise from the earth, them at once, and make such a selection from them as As full as the heave of a maiden's breast, will astonish the editors of the Annuals, and prove that When the first sigh of love is starting to birth, we could, at a week's notice, produce a volume equal in And sweetly disturbing her bosom’s rest; interest to the best of them. This, we solemnly protest, Softly, gently, rise from the bed is the simple truth ; and we shall establish it to the com- Where the young May gowan hath laid its head, plete satisfaction of every reader who will favour us with Hath laid its head, and slept all night, an hour of his time. Our resources grow upon us every With a dewy heart so pure and brightday, and appear to be inexhaustible. Notwithstanding Come with its breath, and the tinge of its blush, the quantity and quality of the prose and verse we are Come with its smile when the skies grow flush, about to subjoin, we are obliged to withhold more than Come, and I'll tell thee the secret way one-half of the articles we had laid aside for the present Thou must go to my love with my lowly lay ;occasion; and we beg to state to many authors who may Onward, on, through the silent grove, feel disappointed, that we have the greatest respect for | Where the tangled branches are interwove; their talents, and that we hope to make room for them Onward, on, where the moon's gold beam another time.

Is painting heaven upon the stream;
The piece with which we commence our selections is a | Through flowery paths still onward, on,
poem by Alexander Maclaggan, whose history and cir- Till you meet my love as you meet the sun-
cumstances are already known to our readers. It is, in A being too bright to look proud upon !
our estimation, not only the best poem which he has yet But her gentle feet will as softly pass,
produced, but one which would do no discredit to the As the shade of a cloud on the sleeping grass;
Ettrick Shepherd himself; and we hereby ask him if he And the soul-fed blue of her lovely eye
thinks it would ? We know the Shepherd too well, not Is as dark as the depths of the cloudless sky,
to be certain that he rejoices in genius wherever it may And as full of magic mystery !
spring up; and if he does not read the following lines And, more than all, her breath is sweet
with pleasure, he could never have been the author of As the blended odours you love to meet,
“ Kilmeny :"

When you stir at morn the blooming bowers,

And awake the air that sleeps round the flowers.
By Alexander Maclaggan.

Then tell her, Echo, my whisper'd vow,
Night's finger hath prest down the eyelids of day,

I cannot breathe it so well as thou,
And over his breast thrown a mantle of gray ;-

Oh! tell her all I am feeling now!
I'll out to the fields, and my lonely way
Shall be lighted by fancy's burning ray,

Let Mr Maclaggan, who has not concluded his fifth lusAnd, Oh! might I hear my own love say,–

trum, go on steadily, and we have the best hopes of him. “ Sing on, sing on, I'll bless thy strain,”

Our next communication is from the ultima Thule of My heart would re-echo most willingly,

Lerwick, and not even from Lerwick, but from a still Amen, sweet spirit, amen!”

remoter spot, to which Lerwick is the nearest post-town.

It is delightful to think, that even into these penitus orbe I seek the green bank where the streamlet flows,

divisos districts, the LITERARY JOURNAL extends its viviThe home of the blue-bell and wild primrose;

fying and benignant influence. Our correspondent thus Where the glittering spray from the fountain springs,

writes :-“ Sir, I possess not a book in the world—but And twines round the branches like silver strings,

my Bible; and, from one end of the year to the other, Or falls again through the yellow moon's rays,

seldom procure the loan of one. I am shut up from the Like rich drops of gold-a thousand ways.

world, and know only the names, and that but of a few, I come in thy presence, thou bright new moon!

of the authors, authoresses, and publications of the day. To spend nature's night, but true love's noon;

My hand shakes, and my eyes are dim,—not from age, To stretch me out on the flowery earth,

but from sickness and misfortune. That one under such And to christen with tears the young buds' birth.

circumstances should think of becoming a contributor to

the EDINBURGH LITERARY JOURNAL, is folly indeed! Oh! surely, ye heavens ! some being of light

What tempts me to trouble you, I cannot say. If you Is descending to earth in this calm, calm night,

are a choleric man, you will be apt to get into a passion - Bearing balm, and bliss from a holy sphere,

even in your SLIPPERS ; but I hope for gentler things, To cheer the hearts that are sorrowing here,

though I am not so sanguine as to think that you will Gently alighting upon each breast

really publish my humble compositions." Here is, at It knew on earth and loved the best ;

once, the painful romance of a poet's fate, and the diffiThat its strength be renew'd, its sleep be rest,

dence of a poet's nature. All the verses which accomIts thoughts be pure, and its dreams be blest.

panied this letter are excellent. We regret that we have - Spirit of brightness ! on me alight,

room for only two specimens of the talents of one who For the thirst of my soul would gladly sip

seems destined to blush unknown and unseen. The dew that is shed from thy downy wing ;

such as cannot fail to excite an interest in the author : Then breathe, sweet spirit, Oh! breathe on my lip, And teach me the thoughts of my soul to sing,

THE DYING GIRL's song, For my words must be warm'd at a holy flame

The morning light shall dawn, Ere I venture to name my true-love's name!

When I am safe at rest ; I speak it not to the worldly throng,

They shall seek me through the flowery lawn, I sing it not in the festive song,

And on the mountain's breast, But when clasp'd in the arms of the solemn wood,

By the ocean-shore, and the rushing river ;
In the calm of morn and the stillness of even,

But find me, never !
I tell to the ear of solitude
The name that goes up with my prayers to heaven.

The evening shades shall close,

And the dews of midnight fall ; Come, Echo! come, Echo! but not from the caves

And the sighing winds sink to' repose, Where gloom ever broods and the wild wind raves,

By the murmuring waterfall; Come not in the gusts that sweep over the graves,

And the stars in beauty, and beyond number, In the roar of the storm or the dash of the waves;

Beam where I slumber!

They are

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