Alas, alas! 'tis a haunted spot, And a gushing, endless wail, art thou. There is mirth and sport in thy altering voice, While the shout and the song bid echo rejoice, And laughter rides on the joy-wing'd gale ;— The bleating of lambs on the sunny braes The lightsome maiden's petulant tongue, Hark! wild and dread is the swelling strain Now it saddens away from its war-note proud, And pall-like the grave shadows o'er him close. Breathe on, breathe on! thou voice of the stream! Since first from Eden his steps were driven; And his fate shall speak in thy changeful tone Till the exile returns to his home in heaven. TO THE WIND. By W. M. Hetherington. HAIL! viewless essence, thing of might! Shapes that appal the startled eye! Wert thou the first of things which heard When at the bidding of his word, Did not thy voice breathe out a hymn When Ocean's universal surge Engulf'd the world with billowy sway, Didst not thou pour a solemn dirge, Where man's lost millions weltering lay? Over all time and space thy range Has, mighty Phantom! ceaseless wheel'd, And still to every varied change Thou hast the same deep requiem peal'd. Thy hollow moan, a nation's knell, Has often wail'd and mutter'd o'er, When crowns in wild convulsion fell, And ravaged empires wept in gore :— When, like the wrecks that strew thy path In fitful autumn's gusty day, Scathed by the whirlwind-blast of death, The banded might of kingdoms lay. Strange, unimaginable thing! As on thou speedest, unconfined, Come! clad in all thy terrors, come! Of wide creation's storied deeds! Hail to thee! voice of awe and power, Which anthem'd Time's first dawning day, Whose breath shall fan that flaming hour, When Heaven and Earth shall pass away! STANZAS. By Laurence Macdonald. [The following Stanzas arose out of a conversation with a friend, who maintained a sentiment the opposite to that which I have attempted to embody in verse; namely, that the heart can love deeply and truly more than once.-L. M.] Love is not love That looks on tempests, and is never shaken : It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. SHAKSPEARE. I STILL maintain that love hath but one tide, And deep into the soul's existence grow; None ever felt that passion's depth for more A stream of love's devotion, which is fraught Love is no changeling; it will not be bought, Nor barter'd like maids' virtue, and men's truth, In lieu of riches ;-no! Love is in sooth Heaven's image upon earth. So felt Rousseau ! But burn'd intensely, till he join'd the skies, Within his heart, and colour'd every page Whereon his feelings burn, his fancy shines. Proofs might be had in every clime and age, How fondly, lastingly, love's passion twines Around the heart, which none may disengage, If once it loves the idol it enshrines ! "If this be error, and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved." TO ONE I LOVE. O! WORDLESS love is all that I I cannot speak,-I can but gaze Upon thy face so passing fair, The fairer that the hour doth raise For me a flush of feeling there. O, dearest! do not close thine eyes, For light and love within them dwell, And from their depths soft thoughts arise, That of thy inmost spirit tell; They tell what I am blest to know, What thou need'st blush not to reveal, That in one stream our pulses flow, That we together think and feel. O! life is worth its pains and fears, When in a few short hours are found The rapture of a thousand years, A glimpse of heaven's eternal round! Closer, yet closer in my arms, As if our nature were but one, And let me melt into thy charms, As dark clouds melt into the sun. I heed not the enthusiast's creed, I care not for the tyrant's crown; Religion on thy brow I read, An empire in thy smile I own. I will arrest the fleeting hour, I will not walk the world again, I will not leave this golden bower, Nor e'er unlock thy arm's soft chain. My being is surrender'd up, Gentlest and fairest! to thy keeping; Like dew within the harebell's cup, My soul upon thy breast is sleeping; And all its sleep is full of dreams, That take life with them when they go ;I'll talk no more; my glad brain swims; Love, let me hear thee whispering low! H. G. B. TWO SONNETS DAMNATORY OF CIGARS. FOUL weed! that brutifies the moral sense, For all the nausea and thick-coming pains And, having used thee, full on horrors supp'd; Thy fumes malignant hover'd in my brain, And round me cast an atmosphere of plague; My reason struggled with thy might in vain, And all my thoughts grew giddy, dark, and vague. Rather than touch thee, treacherous weed! again, I'd see the isles that bore thee whelm'd beneath the main. II. And do the petit-maitres of this earth, The mincing apes who personate brave men, Let them presume to lift their smoky eyes, And their filed lips, ye Gods! are worse than death! Faugh! let me dream of some fresh flowery scene, Where not a cursed cigar has ever been! H. G. B. LITERARY CHIT-CHAT AND VARIETIES. GARLIC LITERATURE.-Drs M'Leod and Dewar's "New Gaelic Dictionary," which has been publishing in Monthly Parts, by Mr M'Phun, of Glasgow, is now nearly completed. It will not exceed the size of a proper octavo volume, and will consequently supply what has long been much wanted-a good Gaelic Dictionary of portable dimensions.-Mr Munroe, of Cardel, has compiled a Selection of the best Gaelic Songs, which are now in the press, and will appear in the course of a few days.-The Gaelic Journal, conducted by Dr M'Leod, with the assistance of the most celebrated Celtic scholars, continues to excite as much interest in the Highlands as ever. It has reached its sixteenth Number.-The Gaelic Sermons, under the superintendence of Dr Dewar, are published Monthly along with the Journal. Mr Macnish's new work, "The Philosophy of Sleep," which was announced for last winter, but unavoidably delayed, is now nearly ready for publication, and will appear early in October. It will contain disquisitions on every subject connected with Sleep, in a state of health and disease, such as Dreaming, Nightmare, Somnambulism, Torpor, Sleeplessness, Trance, Reverie, Waking Dreams, Abstraction, &c,, together with the medical treatment of diseased Sleep-the whole illustrated by a variety of curious and interesting cases. The Practical Baker and Confectioner's Assistant, containing every thing necessary to be known in the Art, by John Turcan, operative baker, will be published early in September. A new edition of the First Series of the Glasgow Mechanics' Magazine, is now in progress of printing. The next volume of Dr Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopædia, will contain the commencement of a History of the Netherlands-we have not heard by whom. Galignani, the Parisian publisher, has announced a full, authentic, and impartial narrative of the late Revolution. WHIST. We have received a very nice little companion for the whist-player's waistcoat pocket, entitled "Rhyner's Manual for Whist." It is "truly a small duodecimo," as Dominie Sampson would say, but contains a number of short rules, both in prose and verse, which may easily be committed to memory, and will prove of much use to the amateur. CHIT-CHAT FROM LONDON.-There is positively nothing stirring. The town is empty, the theatres shut up, and the publishers asleep. Et voila le tout. CHIT CHAT FROM GLASGOW.-Our exhibition of works in the Fine Arts is now open, and seems to give almost unmingled satisfaction to the crowds of respectable people who resort to the apartments of the Dilettanti Society. I have not time to go into detail at present; but must yet name those of our native artists who have made most conspicuous improvement since last year. Graham is still at their head, and has some fine pictures in the rooms. Gibson and M'Nee struggle closely on in the same honourable career. The former exhibits perhaps the best portrait we have ever had here, that of a brother artist, Kenneth Macleay; and the latter has some capital and characteristic pieces, not only in portraiture, but in familiar life. Nor is our old friend Henderson behind, but, on the contrary, he is mellowing his style, and improving, although before eminent. A youngster, named M'Culloch, has all at once made some hits. Harvey's Covenanters is the cynosure of many eyes, and the subscription for the engraving from it meets with much support.We have had rather a merry week of it. The weather has been fairthe town full-and considerable convivial stir has taken place. The Yacht Club held a Regatta at Helensburgh on the King's birth-day, and dined in honour of it in the evening, when a very delightful meeting took place, under Mr Smith's presidentship.-We have had other dinners too, and splendid ones. On Monday, the delegates from the Clyde Boroughs met, and something analogous to a double return took place. There is little doubt that Mr Finlay of Castle Toward will sit as member. He astonished even his most intimate friends at the conclusion of the proceedings, by one of the most masculine, business-like, staightforward, able, and honest addresses that any candidate has delivered during the present election. Mr Campbell of Blythswood did not say much, nor was it expected he should. Both gentlemen entertained their friends in the evening with a splendid banquet. The array of wealth, intelligence, and enterprise at Mr Finlay's was truly imposing. I did not see the other. In the course of the speeches some new views were given on the East India question. Among others, one speaker said, "Let our outports trade with unrestricted freedom to every spot where a Briton can penetrate, and London, vast, overgrown, and multitudinous London, shall not have in the hands of two or three of its booksellers-the minions of the Court of Directors-the key to the education and intellect of all who speak our tongue in the East in their possession. This, in some measure, they now have, in those vast general orders for India, in which, from its distance, every thing like selection re mains alone with them. He hesitated not to say, that the literature of Scotland had not its fair and rightful chance; but when every vessel from Scotland that sails eastward shall bear from the scattered ports of the kingdom assortments of books there made up, the partiality will cease to operate-a new stimulus will be given to provincial intellect, enterprise and art,—and Christianity, science, and liberty, shall have new allies in every volume that finds its way to India."-Let your Messieurs the Olivers and Boyds, Taits, and Constables, of Edinburgh, look to that, and straightway petition both Houses !-We are likely to have other public meetings;-one on France and its affairs, and one to welcome Mr Hume.-A Literary Journal upon a small scale has been started here. It is edited by a Mr Hamilton, a gentleman of considerable talent, I believe a native of Edinburgh, and lately on the stage. It is no easy task he has undertaken, to make such a speculation pay in Glasgow.-Messrs Blackie and Fullarton, I believe, have as yet decided nothing as to the Magazine it was believed they contemplated establishing on a liberal scale; they have a powerful connexion, and some able writers at command. CHIT CHAT FROM FORFAR.-Periodicals seem to be starting up in every town and corner of the country; and all of them upon the principle of making as much noise at their entry, and as little at their exit from the world as possible. With the tidings of the two things of this ephemeral class to be started in Aberdeen, came the dolorous news of the decease of the Stonehaven Luminary, whose outset was mentioned in your JOURNAL Some time ago; and of which, by the by, nothing more was ever known here-its beams having failed to penetrate the saturnine darkness of our literary hemisphere, -Your correspondent, Mr John Nevay, of this place, is about to publish a sacred poem, in nine cantos, entitled, "Emanuel." From the specimens of Mr Nevay's poetical talents given in your pages, I am inclined to think favourably of him-but am much afraid the subject is unhappily chosen. It is to be dedicated, by permission, to the Right Honourable the Countess of Airlie.-The number of sportsmen passing this way this season, for their different shooting quarters, has been considerable, and not a few of them seem indwellers of " Auld Reekie," who take this annual opportunity to escape from their several labours and pursuits, to breathe awhile the pure and salubrious air of the Grampians. Game seems to be nowise scarce-witness the fact of a gentleman in this neighbourhood bagging forty-nine brace of grouse in one day. Every place just now seems to be agitated by the election of members for Parliament. The contest for this district of burghs, which has been unusually hot, has at length terminated by two out of three candidates being returned, viz. Col. Ogilvie of Clova, and the Hon. J. S. Wortley. It will of course fall to Parliament to decide which of the two takes his seat. candidate was the Hon. J. T. L. Melville, who retired. Various diverting circumstances occurred during the canvassing, and, among others, the fact of one veteran member of the council having mistaken the juice of the grape for ginger beer, is worth noticing. The other JOURNAL OF LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND THE FINE ARTS. THEATRICAL GOSSIP.-Mozart's opera of "Cosi fan tutti," has been revived at the Adelphi. A Miss Fergusson supported the principal female part, but she does not seem adequate to the task-Miss Pincott, late of the Theatre Royal here, is at present performing at the Adelphi.-Miss Fanny Kemble has been quite successful in Liverpool. The critics there, however, seem to praise her with more judgment than has been evinced in some other quarters.-A ballet company has come to the Caledonian Theatre, in which two ladies, who call themselves Mademoiselles Constance and Celeste, are the only persons worth mentioning. They are far inferior to Vedy, in grace and beauty, but they execute a pirouette cleverly, and stand on their toes most fearlessly.-Mason and his daughter, formerly of the Theatre Royal, are acting at the Caledonian, should be glad to see them in their old place again, provided Miss Mason, who is a good, and rather clever girl, does not insist on playing the first parts in either tragedy or comedy, TO OUR CORRESPONDENTS. We We have received the first Number of the WESTERN LITERARY JOURNAL. It appears to be respectably written; the best thing it can do is, to make itself as like us as possible, and then it is sure to succeed. We consider the "Traditions of Dunbar" of too local a nature to merit insertion in our pages; but we beg to assure the author that we entertain the highest respect for that ancient city, through which we had the pleasure of passing a few days ago,-"A Tale founded upon a fact," by "R. R. R.," and the remarks on the "Decline of Pulpit Eloquence," will not suit us. We are afraid a good number of our poetical correspondents may feel disappointed at the non-appearance of their verses in to-day's Number. We can only console them by the assurance that some of them have been withheld for want of room, not for want of merit. This particularly applies to the Songs by "W. A. F.,"-to "The Past," by "J.,"-to the Sonnet by "W. T.," of Auchterarder,-and to the Songs by "J. S. R." of Dundee.-The pieces entitled, "Death's Triumph," "First Love," "Night," "Lines addressed to Youth," and "On the late Revolution in France," will not suit us. (Under a new Editor and new Proprietors.) THIS Paper will be found especially valuable to the Members of all Literary Societies, Reading-Rooms, BookClubs, and to all Gentlemen resident in the Country, as a Guide to the Purchase of New Works. It is independent of all sinister influence, and therefore impartial in its judgment. It is well known to literary men that many publications, and some of the most influential literary journals, are the absolute property of the great Publishers; the professed criticisms in such papers are, therefore, really unpaid advertisements. It is equally known that paragraphs professing to be criticism, are paid for as advertisements in many Papers. The extent to which this direct and indirect puffing, under pretence of criticism, is carried, has at length awakened public attention; the Edinburgh Review and other independent journals have expressed their indig nation at it. Here, then, is a Paper liable to no such objection; it is not the property of the great book publishers-it admits no advertisement that is not distinctly marked as such-its criticisms may be presumed to be honest, because it has no hope of support but from the Public. The Proprietors resolved to succeed by their integrity, or to abandon the Paper. It was for the Public to say whether the outcry against the bad system was sincere, and whether they would support an independent Journal. The Proprietors have the satisfac tion to acknowledge that they have received, equally from independent Publishers and the Public, a more effectual support than they could reasonably have anticipated. That support has enabled thei to open new channels of interest-to engage with literary men of the highest talent in this country and on the Continent-to establish a correspondence all over Europe. They are unwilling to speak of the result of their exertions, but they may without indelicacy refer to facts. There have appeared in this Paper, within the last two months, elaborate Criticisms, with numerous extracts from eightyeight New Works-several before the Works themselves were pub lished; shorter, but sufficient Criticisms on seventy others; accurate Reports of all the Interesting Transactions at the Royal Institution, College of Physicians, and the other learned and Scientific Societies; Original Papers by distinguished writers and scientific men; interesting Letters from all parts of Europe; elaborate Criticisms on Art, including the series of Papers on " Living Artists," still publishing with Notices of the Exhibitions of New Prints, and even of the Engravings now in progress on the Continent; Essays on the present State of the Drama and Music in England; with regular Notices of all Noveltics at the Opera or Theatres, and New Music; with more than forty columns of interesting Miscellaneous Information. THE ATHENEUM may be ordered of any Bookseller, and will be regularly received with his books from London; but for Societies, and persons desiring an early copy, a Stamped Edition is published, and passes free by post, price 1s. It is published every Saturday Morning at the Office of the Paper, by W. S. ALLEN, 7, Catherine Street, Strand. LITERARY CRITICISM. Retrospections of the Stage. By the late John Bernard, PRICE 6d. that Garrick, and Palmer, and Henderson, and Quin, and Foote, were men of talent, and consequently to take some interest, though we never saw them, in all we can learn concerning them; but this feeling becomes weaker every succeeding year; and as for second and third-rate performers, it seems to be impossible to preserve their names beyond the existence of their own contemporaries. To us, therefore, we confess that Mr Bernard's book is deprived of some of the interest it would otherwise possess, when we find that it is entirely occupied, not only with persons whom we never saw, but with many performers whose names even we never heard before. It is, nevertheless, cleverly written, and when his retrospections lead him to talk of such persons as Garrick, Macklin, John and Stephen Kemble, Tate Wilkinson, Edwip, Sheridan, Foote, Quin, Bannister, Barry, Lewis, Emery, Incledon, Mrs Cibber, Mrs Jordan, Mrs Billington, Mrs Siddons, Miss Brunton, and others, it is impossible not to PLAYERS are so seldom seen in their real characters, that people are naturally curious to know what sort of persons they are off the stage, when they have ceased to act a part. In this respect, they somewhat resemble kings and great men, who come before us only on particular state occasions, and with whose every-day life, and ordinary feelings, we have no means of getting acquainted. Hence the interest which attaches to the greenroom, where romance yields to reality, and truth is purchased at the price of many pleasing fancies; where the mimic prince sinks into a gentleman with a salary of five-and-peruse his pages with satisfaction, increased by the reflectwenty shillings a-week, and the peerless Juliet is discovered to be a lady with two prodigious blotches of rouge upon her cheeks, and a set of charms purchased from the milliner and the perruquier, and carefully arranged by her attendant dresser. We love to peep behind the scenes, on the same principle that the child loves to break its toy, to discover the secret springs of motion or of sound which it may possess. As a wire or a bit of catgut rewards its pains, so a little tinsel finery, or a miserable gilding of much misery, both mental and bodily, is all that meets the eye of the too officious enquirer into the mysteries that lie concealed on the other side of the curtain. tion that it is only by such fleeting records we novi homines are able to ascertain, or rather to guess at, the peculiar merits of those brilliant but passing meteors, whose coruscations lighted up the hours which our ancestors dedicated to amusement. Without farther preface, we shall present our readers with a few passages from Mr Bernard's book, which will convey to them an agreeable impression of its general contents. We begin with the following amusing story: FOOTE AND TATE WILKINSON. "When Foote first discovered Tate's ability (at mimicry), he determined to make his introduction to the public a source of amusement to himself. Being advertised for a popular character, he rehearsed Wilkinson in it, not merely with the view of the latter's playing it instead, but in imiAt night the house was fuil; Wilkinson was dressed; and tation of himself. This design was kept profoundly secret. Foote retreated to his box, to lie in ambush, and watch the result. The great attraction was Foote, and expectation was in pangs for his appearance. Tate at length entered, and walked, talked, shuffled, snuffed, hitched, and fidgeted so like the real Simon Pure, that the hoax completely sueceeded, and Bravo, Foote! what fine spirits Sam's in tonight!' were the general acclamations. Foote at that time usual, lashed him for his performance; but on the same experienced some enmity from the press, and the critics, às morning he divulged the joke, and at night led Wilkinson on the stage to introduce him to the public, saying, that Yet players are a set, take them for all in all, who, while they frequently claim our pity, seldom deserve our hatred. They are in general of thoughtless and merry temperaments; they make the most of the passing hour; and the variety which commonly attends their life is made to atone for an occasional want of prosperity. There is often much practical philosophy to be gathered from the history of their career; and, at all events, like the Jews or the gipsies, they are a peculiar people: they associate almost exclusively with each other, and whether as strollers through small country towns, as stationary in provincial places of greater note, or as congregated in large companies in the metropolis, they are invariably found to possess manners and customs of their own, which mark them out from the mercantile and professional classes of society. Mr Bernard, in his "Retrospections of the Stage," now before us, has supplied us with a book of very amusing "One of the peculiarities of Tate's voice was its sweetgossip and anecdote. We only regret that Mr Bernard ness. On his first visit to Dublin with Foote, they were was born so far back as the year, and conse-engaged by Barry and Mossop, to give their entertainments quently many of his reminiscences belong to a grätion previous to our own. The actor, more than any one else who seeks for reputation from the public, intrusts his fame to the particular period to which he belongs; his merits do not consist of any thing tangible or separate from himself, and hence they can scarcely survive longer than the memories of those who have witnessed his performances. From the deference we pay to the opinions of our fathers, a second. generation is willing to believe as they had received his Foote so favourably, he hoped they would take him by the hand.' Thus Tate rose immediately into notice, and Sain raised a laugh against his judges. on the alternate nights with Peg Woffington's performance. Foote considered that it would be an attractive feature in the bill, if he announced an imitation of the above lady by Wilkinson; but the design coming to her ears, she sent Sam an abusive note, acquainting him, that if he atwho would oblige him to take himself off. Foote showed tempted to take her off, she had some friends in Dublin the epistle to his companion, who, nothing daunted, proposed, that instead of animitation,' they should give a scene from Alexander the Great, in character,—Foote mi to be a walking compound of wig, lace, ruffles, rose-water, and the Bath Directory. The room was rather full, and, for this reason, the latter person commenced a detail of his fashionable connexions and advantages. Quin immediately desisted from eating, looked up, and made wry faces. The sprig of jessamine was pleased, however, with the notice he excited, and continued in an effeminate tone, sufficiently audible to disturb and disgust all around him, whose ex. pressions he construed as the tokens of wonder or envy. Quin rose up, and walked about the room; the lady-like micking Barry in the hero, and Wilkinson Mrs W. as Roxana, Preparations were accordingly made, and their bills published: what gave a greater zest to the announce ment was, that Alexander the Great had been played the night before. Among the flood of spectators came Peg in person, and seated herself in the stage-box, not only to enlist the audience in her favour, and silence Foote by her appearance, (which was truly beautiful,) but if any thing occurred, to give the wink to a party of young Irish in the pit, who would rise up to execute immediate vengeance on the mimics. Sam and Tate were thus treading on the sur-creature paid no attention to this, but entered into a list of face of a secret mine. "When Foote appeared, as he could present no resemblance to Barry but in manner and accent, the surprise was necessarily transferred to the entrance of his companion, a tall and dignified female, something like the original in face, but so like in figure and deportment, that the spectators glanced their eyes from box to stage, and stage to box, to convince them of Mrs W.'s identity. Peg herself was not the least astonished, and her myrmidons below were uncertain how to act. "Foote commenced the scene sufficiently like Barry to have procured applause, had not Tate thrown himself into one of Peg's favourite attitudes meanwhile, and diverted・ the attention. Eye and ear were now directed to the latter, and the first tone of his voice drew a thundering response from the lips of his auditors. As he proceeded, the effect increased; and the house was electrified; his enemies were overpowered, and Peg herself set the seal to his talents, by beating her fan to pieces on the beading of the boxes. "Tate acknowledged this to be the greatest triumph of his life; and I can fully subscribe to its truth, since, in imitating that angel-toned woman, Mrs Barry, he needed but a veil over his face to have convinced me of her presence." Quin was in many respects a superior humourist to either Foote or Wilkinson. What is rarely the case with an actor, he appears to have been equally successful in the exercise of his talents whether on or off the stage. The anecdotes we subjoin illustrate his character: ANECDOTES OF QUIN. "An actor has certainly one thing to boast of-that the four great wits (i. e. most frequently quoted) of the past century, were members of his profession:-to commence with that very reverend gentleman, Mr Joseph Millar, Foote, Quin, and Charles Bannister; Sheridan, even, who may be thought by many to claim pre-eminence, was the son of an actor, and the manager of a theatre. I pass over the question which would seem to grow out of this fact, (whether there be not something in the atmosphere of a playhouse conducive to the above ability?) to observe, that of these persons, Quin and Foote associated with the best company, and that Quin, like Foote, was distinguished for a certain contempt for a portion of the society he courted, namely, the more noble, but less intelligent. "Dining one day at a party in Bath, Quin uttered some thing which caused a general murmur of delight. A nobleman present, who was not very illustrious for the brilliancy of his ideas, exclaimed, What a pity 'tis, Quin, my boy, that a clever fellow like you should be a player! Quin fixed and flashed his eye upon the person, with this reply, -What would your Lordship have me be?-a Lord?' "Quin was also distinguished for his attachment to the society of females; though the accounts which have been handed down of his rugged habits and propensities, may have led many readers to the contrary supposition. Where ladies were present one evening, the subject of conversation was the doctrine of Pythagoras. Quin remained silent. One of the party (remarkable for the whiteness of her neck) asked Quin his opinion,- Do you believe in the transmigration of souls, Mr Quin?'—' 'Oh, yes, madam!' And pray, may I enquire, what creature's form you would prefer hereafter to inhabit ? A fly's, madam.A fly Yes, that I might have the pleasure, at some future day, of resting on your ladyship's neck.' "There was infinite delicacy in the following:-Being asked by a lady why it was reported that there were more women than men, he replied It is in conformity with the arrangements of nature, madam; we always see more of heaven than earth!' "The measure of his devotion to the fair could only be equalled by his detestation of those creatures of his own sex, who mimicked the former's accent and daintiness. Taking his soup one day at a coffeehouse in Bath, two gentlemen came in, and blockaded the fire-place, one of whom appeared his weekly engagements, and numbered the peers who "There was some wit in his definition of a gamester, (one Major Townsend, a celebrated elbow-shaker of those times,) whom he compared to the sun, because he always set at night, and rose in the morning. "Quin played Cato very well, which I attribute to some constitutional resemblance between the two. He was generally as cool' (to use a vulgarism) ‘as a cucumber.' Some person whom he had offended, met him one day on the understand, sir, you have been taking away my name!'street, and stopped him. 'Mr Quin,' said he, 'I-I-I What have I said, sir?'-You-you-you called me a scoundrel, sir!'-' Keep your name,' replied Quin, and walked on. “Quin, in his old age, every one knows, became a great gourmand, and, among other things, invented a composi tion, which he called his Siamese soup,' pretending that its ingredients were principally from the East.' The peculiarity of its flavour became the topic of the day. The rage' at Bath was Mr Quin's soup; but as he would not part with the recipe, this state of notice was highly inconvenient; every person was endeavouring to dine with him; every dinner he was at, an apology was made for the absence of the Siamese soup.' His female friends, Quin was forced to put off with promises; the males received a respectful, but manly, denial. A conspiracy was accordingly projected, by a dozen bons vivans of Bath, against his peace and comfort. At home, he was flooded with anonymous letters; abroad, beset with applications under every form. The possession of this secret was made a canker to all his enjoyments. At length be discovered the design, and determined on revenge, Collecting the names of the principal confederates, he invited them to dinner, promising to give them the recipe before they departed-an invitation, as my reader will suppose, which was joyfully accepted. Quin then gave a pair of his old boots to the housemaid to scour and soak, and when sufficiently seasoned, to chop into fine particles, like minced meat. On the appointed day, he took these particles, and pouring them into a copper pot, with sage, onions, spice, ham, wine, water, and other ingredients, composed a mixture of about two gallons, which was served up at his table as his Siamese soup.' The company were in transports at its flavour; but Quin, pleading a cold, did not taste it. A pleasant evening was spent, and when the hour of departure arrived, each person pulled out his tablets to write down the recipe. Quin now pretended that he had forgot making the promise; but his guests were not to bofput off and closing the door, they told him, in plain terms, that neither he nor they should quit the room till his pledge had been redeemed. Quin stammered and evaded, and kept them from the point as long as possible; but when their patience was bearing down all bounds, his reluctance gave way. "Well, then, gentlemen,' said he, in the first place, take an old pair of boots! What! an old pair of boots! The older the better;-(they stared at each other,) cut off their tops and soles, and soak them in a tub vi water;'-(they hesitated) chop them into fine particles, |