enquired his name, connexions, and what parish he had come from; and, in particular, if he had brought a testimonial of his character? "Huich? A testimoniel? Fat pe she?" "Why, it is just a written account of the character you have borne; and testified by the minister and elders of the parish." "Oach, no, Mr M'Queen; she didna brought her." "But you ought to have done it. What was the reason you did not bring it with you?" to be crossing from Kinghorn to Leith on a very stormy day, and as the vessel heeled terribly, he ran to the cords and held down with his whole vigour to keep her from upsetting. "For te sake of our lhives, shentles, come and hold town!" cried he;" or, if you will nhot pe helping mhe, I'll hit you all go to the bhottom in one mhoment. And you ploughman tere, cannot you kheep te howe of te furr, and no gang ower te crown of te rhiggs avaw? Heich ?" The steersman at this laughing aloud, the Highlander was irritated, and with one of the levers he "Because hersell was thoughting she would be as petter ran and knocked him down. "Nhow! laugh you nhow?" without it." A gentleman of Strathdon said to his maid one night, "Tell Finlay to rise very early to-morrow morning, and go down to Aberdeen for the upholsterer." "Yes, sir. For the what did you say, sir?" "For the upholsterer. He knows him." "Finlay, you are to rise very early, master says; and you are to call on me to make you a brose, and you are to go down to Aberdeen, and bring home a polsterer." "A polsterer? What's that?" said he;" and you weel deserve it all, for it was you who put her so mhad, kittling her thail with tat pin." About thirty years ago, I first visited the Spital of Glenshee, and at that time I never had seen a greater curiosity than the place of worship there. It is a chapel of ease belonging to a parish called Kirkmichael, is built with stone and lime, and the roof is flagged with slate. The door was locked, but both the windows were wide open, without either glass or frame, so that one stepped as easily in at the windows as at the door. There were "Master says you have seen him, and know what he no seats, but here and there a big stone placed, and, as is like." Mr David Paterson once told me that he saw a black man standing at a door in Glasgow, and a young Highlander from the country, passing by at the time, chanced to cast his eyes on him with a gleam of prodigious interest. Paterson, anticipating some grand sport, drew near, and saw the Highlander come briskly forward, and begin afeeling the black servant's hands and clothes, muttering to himself all the while, "Aih, Cot a mercy on us all! what is made up for te pawpee here!" At length he began as briskly to handle the Black's face, on which the latter gave him a rude push, and cried, "Stand back, sir!" The young Highlander uttered a loud shriek, and sprung almost to the middle of the street, and then, turning round in utter astonishment, he exclaimed, "Cot's crace! Cot's crace! wha ever saw'd the like of tat? I'll be tamn if I didna thought she was a timber." The same Mr Paterson once saw another Highlander standing looking at the head of a black man on a tobacconist's sign-board, which head kept constantly moving on springs. Paterson drew near, and began to look with still greater astonishment; on which the Highlander said, Pray, coot shentlemban, can you pe telling her if yonter head pelong to one of Cot's crheatures ?" 66 A Highlander from the small isles, who had never been in a church, or heard sermon in his life, came over to a Sacrament on the mainland, and the service being in his native tongue, he paid great attention till the psalm was given out, for he had missed the first one. When the precentor fell a-bawling out, Donald could not comprehend that, and called to some to stop him; but how was he astounded, when the whole congregation fell agaping and bawling with all their energy! Donald, conceiving it altogether a fit of nadness, of which the precentor was the primary cause, bustled up to him, and gave him a blow on the side of the head, till the book dropped from his hand. "What do you mean, sir?" said the clerk. "Humph! pe you taking tat,” said Donald; “for you was te pekinner of tis tamn toohoo!" An elderly man, from the Braes of Athol, who had never seen either a ship or sea in his life, once chanced things of great luxury, there were two or three sticks laid from one of these to another. The floor was literally paved with human bones, and I saw that the dogs had gnawed the ends of many of them by way of amusing themselves in the time of worship. There were also hundreds of human teeth, while in the north-west corner of the chapel there was an open grave, which had stood so for nearly three months. It had been made in the preceding December for a young man who had died in the Braes of Angus, but it came on such a terrible storm that they could not bring the corpse, so they buried him where he was, and left this grave standing ready for the next. When the service was ended, the minister gathered the collection for the poor on the green, in the crown of his hat, and neither men nor women thought of dispersing, but stood in clubs about the chapel, conversing, some of them for upwards of an hour. I have seen many people who appeared to pay more attention to the service, but I never saw any who appeared to enjoy the crack after sermon so much. I once came to a parish in the west of Ross-shire, in which both the manse and church were thatched with heather, of which the following pleasant anecdote was related to me. It had always been customary there to fine persons guilty of what is fashionably termed a faux pas, five groats and a burden of heather. The money went to the support of the poor, and the heather to keep the manse and kirk in thatch, and both were so liberally supplied that the minister unadvisedly doubled the fine. From that day forth there was never one groat more came in to the support of the poor, and the church and manse were both tirled to the bare ribs. At length one Sunday, after sermon, the parish beadle made this memorable proclamation : "Ho yes! Tis pe to give notice to all concerned, tat from tis tay forth to te end of te world, tere will pe in tis place te coot ould cluich at te coot ould price, te five croat and te purden of heather." In a short time the manse and church were as well thatched as ever. The following genuine Highland proclamation was recited to me by one who heard it, and took a copy on the spot :- "Ho yesh! And a two time, Ho yesh! And a tree time, Ho yesh! Tid ony pody saw a little grey kirnaggie? He was over te prig of Tee six tays before te mhorn. Wit twa peck of pear mheal; tree peck puffan; ten cearched; te score and five squadden, and five hard huishk. If any pody have not sawed him, let them come to my Macneil was always asked for a song, and he always good-humouredly complied; It seems to mean, "Did any person see a little horse, generally breaking forth, with his rough voice and gleewho had crossed the Dee six days ago; on his back three ful face, into the well-known Jacobite song, "Whar hae pecks of barley meal, two of pease meel, ten hens, five-you been a' the day, bonnie laddie, Highland laddie." and-twenty herrings, and five hard fish." The terms of Macneil made several additions and improvements to this the reward I do not understand.* fhather's house on the hill of Drumfhamdrum, and they return to the dinner-table. will kit their phull for te saiffitty of him." RECOLLECTIONS OF THE DEAD. HECTOR MACNEIL. By Derwent Conway. song. The last verse is entirely his own composition, and it is assuredly one of the best verses. In the second last verse, the devils eat up the Duke of Cumberland thus: Then they pat him on a spit An' roasted him frae head to feet; They ate him up baith stoop and roop, song; and so he added this crowning verse: The deils themselves could na digest, There are some most admirable points in this verse, An' that's the way they served the Duke. ANOTHER individual, who is well entitled to be the sub- But Hector Macneil thought, and very justly, that some ject of one of these reminiscences of my boyhood, is Hecreason ought to be assigned for using his Royal Hightor Macneil, the well-known Scotch poet, and highly-ness so ill-no reason having been given throughout the esteemed author of "Will and Jean, or Scotland's Scaith." What Macneil's personal appearance may have been in the early years to which I shall presently allude, I cannot tell very different, no doubt, from the figure that now stands before me. My farthest stretch of memory finds him already near the foot of the hill, and I see him go down-down to his grave. It might be four or five years previous to his death, when I first knew him : his tall and very spare figure was then slightly bent; but less, I think, under the burden of years, than of sorrows; for of these he had his full share. In graving the deep wrinkles that lay upon his hollow cheeks, time had been assisted by anxiety and bitter fancies; and yet, seldom was his countenance seen unenlivened by a smile, a gleeful, good-humoured smile-not assumed, though little cause had he to smile,—but the offspring of a benevolent mind, and borrowing, perhaps, some of its radiance from recollections of far-past days, awakened by the hila-sessor; and lastly, we have in the last line, rity around him. Upon the last day of every year, for some years previous to his death, I regularly met with him at one of those annual meetings of friends and relations, so religiously observed by some. This was a great event in my mind; for it was one of the few occasions upon which I was permitted to go out to dinner; and, being a holiday besides, it was next in importance to New Year's Day, upon which I used to receive a crown to spend as I liked. I distinctly see my mother in her silk gown, and my father with his nicely-powdered hair, and Florentine silk breeches, and silk stockings; and I feel myself in the coach that conveys us; and I see the large blazing fire in the drawing-room, and the ladies seated in a semicircle, and the gentlemen standing in groups talking over the news and every one impatient for dinner; and then, what a sight to a hungry boy was the groaning table, the goose the mince-pie, and the syllabub in that huge crystal dish! Hector Macneil was always one of the party; and few men enjoyed a good dinner and agreeable society more than he did. I fear, alas! that his table at home was but scantily provided; and that, in his latter days, when he the most needed attention, his company was but little sought; because declining health and poor circumstances had cast a damp over those spirits that, in his earlier days, as I have been told, were wont to "set the table in a roar." But even when I knew him, he was, in company at least, what I would call a jocose old man; an agreeable companion; his conversation sprinkled with anecdote, and moderately seasoned with wit. He then lived up four pair of stairs in James's Square,-not with the comforts around him that his infirmities needed, and his genius merited-and too much neglected by those even who professed to be the patrons of letters. Edinburgh, which has been christened, or which has christened itself, Modern Athens, certainly resembles the ancient city in its too frequent neglect of illustrious citizens. But to The meaning seems to be;-"Let any one who has seen him, come to my father's house, and he will be allowed to eat his fill for the tidings."-ED. For a' Culloden's crimes were there, a perfect summing-up of the whole story, and a vindication of the proceedings upon the principles of justice; and all this contained in one line of great power, and full of poetry. I have often, since those days, listened to this song; but never sung with the same effect as Hector Macniel gave to it; peculiarly comic was the expression of his face in singing the line latest poem, The deils ne'er saw sic fun before. Macneil's reputation as a poet, rests mainly upon "Will His and Jean," and in some degree upon his songs. Bygane times and late come changes," is certainly of inferior merit, though it contains many passages of great pith and point. I have heard Macneil sing several of his own songs, which never appeared in print; but I am unable to present the reader with more Macneil was one of a than a single one of these relics. party made to visit Hawthorndean, and after dinner at Roslin, he sang a little ballad, which was greatly admired, but which, he said, was not suited to his hoarse voice; and he afterwards sent a copy of it to a young lady, who sung it in a very pleasing manner. tune I have not the least recollection :— SONG. Of the Come, Jessy, come to the rowan bower, When the gloamin is round us, and nane pryin' near, Yet, come, Jessy, come, my tryst I'll be keepin', immediate observation, the following will probably le deemed not uninteresting by the lovers of the mysterions. Many years ago, I was awakened one night from an unquiet sleep, by a feeling of acute pain, and a disagree The whole tenor of Macneil's life was altered by one able thrilling throughout my whole frame, with the ex unguarded kiss. He was bred in an extensive mercantile ception of my forehead, which felt singularly chilly, and I became house; and when his apprenticeship was ended, he still as if pressed upon by a dead cold weight. continued to reside in his master's family, and by degrees immovable, and at a loss what to think. strangely alarmed; and remained for several minutes After several became so valuable an assistant, that there appeared every ineffectual attempts to feel whether there was any object prospect of his being one day admitted into partnership. His master had married a lady greatly younger than him- of terror near, my hand at length encountered, and fell self, and of extraordinary personal attractions; and young motionless, cold, clammy hand! My flesh crept upon trembling and powerless upon another hand—a strange, Macneil was upon terms of equal intimacy with the lady as with her husband. It so happened, that upon an evil my bones my hair felt like writhing needles on my head-an icy perspiration started out from every pore day, Macneil, who was then scarcely one-and-twenty, was of my body. I made a violent attempt to scream; my seated upon a garden chair beside the lady while she was reading, and from looking upon the page along with her, tongue, however, clove to the roof of my mouth, and, But dehis eyes were insensibly withdrawn from it, and fixed shutting my eyes, I gave myself up to despair. spair, however it may for a time remain inactive, hath upon her face; and, the devil tempting him, as I am bound to believe, he suddenly snatched a kiss. Thus far its energies-energies which nothing short of hopelessness can arouse; and mustering my resuscitated powers, I the story might serve as a counterpart to the story of Rimini; but, unless that "that day they read no more," the struggled to remove the horrid hand, for I felt it palpably, in all its cold reality, within mine, and, giving a long and resemblance goes no farther. The lady, in virtuous anger, piercing shriek, fell exhausted on my pillow and fainted. and notwithstanding the protestations of young Macneil that the offence was unpremeditated, acquainted her bus- On coming again to myself, I found my bed surroundband with the audacity of his protegé, and the immediate ed by the whole household, with lights and various weaconsequence was, the dismissal of Macneil, and a termi-pons of defence; and when, to their hasty enquiries, I nation to the prospects that were brightening around him, shudderingly answered, that a strange and icy hand, the His life was ever afterwards nearly allied to penury; and hand of death, was beside me, and had been upon my I have reason to know that he did not leave behind him forehead, an instantaneous roar of laughter burst upon I was my astonished senses. wherewithal to pay the expenses of his funeral. Starting up, I looked round, and found that a stoppage in the circulation of the blood had about to finish this reminiscence with the words "Poor deadened my left arm, upon which I had been lying, and Macneil;" but who knows that the pleasure he felt in the that the hand, the awful and mysterious hand that had composition of " Will and Jean," which, but for that unoccasioned all my terror, was my own! W. B. H. guarded kiss, might never have been written, did not more than compensate for all the privations he experienced for many a gloomy solitary hour and sorry dinner? THE MYSTERIOUS HAND. AN ANECDOTE. Or all the mental infirmities of my fellow-beings, there are none that I am less inclined to laugh at, and, in fact, more disposed to respect, than a belief in apparitions and a fear of the supernatural; and one reason is, that although a decided sceptic in those matters, I have never been able entirely to divest myself of the superstitions of my youth; and another, that even at an advanced age, I have been placed in situations, both at home and abroad, where reason, "That column of true majesty in man," has been prostrated, for a time, before what seemed the most appalling realities, and I have experienced all the terrors of my childhood revived with undiminished power -the groundlessness of my fear being only made manifest by some desperate effort of courage, or the most patient subsequent investigation. Despite the march of intellect, rapid as it is, such a belief will always more or less prevail; and I am not sorry that it should; for, besides the poetry of the thing, I have always been of opinion, that it has a beneficial effect at least, if not a religious one, upon the credulous and thoughtless, by impressing upon them, if nothing else will, the absolute certainty of a future state, between which and the present spirits must be considered by them as the messengers and connecting link; and, by consequence, lead them, through their fears, to abstain from many sins in which they might otherwise indulge. Be this as it may, there are many things that occur out of the common course of events, having so much the appearance of the supernatural, that, if not rationally accounted for, will produce the most superstitious effects upon the strongest minds. Out of several instances that have occurred under my own THE DRAMA. We are credibly informed that Braham is upwards of sixty-five, in which case his voice is the next thing to a miracle. In speaking of it, however, we have one difficulty to contend with. For thirty years Braham has by universal consent ranked at the very head of English singers; and if we only put the question,—Is he entitled to this eminence when considered in comparison with others? we shall not hesitate to answer that he is. But another question forces itself upon us, which, we regret to say, we cannot, after the maturest deliberation, answer so satisfactorily. It is this;-granting that Braham is superior to all competitors, is he quite as splendid a singer as it was at all reasonable to expect the last thirty years should have produced in England? To this question we cannot help answering-No,-or, in other words, that we had imagined that the powers of the human voice in some solitary instance, during so long a period, would have developed themselves in a still more remarkable and surpassing degree. Mrs Siddons, John Kemble, and Kean, have done all that we hoped from tragic actors; Munden, Fawcett, Mathews, and others, have left us nothing to wish for in the display of comic humour. But when we hear Braham, though we are of course delighted—astonished, yet we are continually saying to ourselves-Is this all the human voice can do? Braham's natural gifts as a singer are great, and by means of indefatigable study, and with the aid of science, he has turned them to the utmost possible advantage. Still there would be no difficulty in pointing out several imperfections against which he has always had to contend. The chief of these is, that all his high notes are on a falsetto pitch, and though in general his fine taste enables him to soften them down wonderfully, they yet inevitably want the full clear sweetness of natural tones, for which, if we are correctly informed, Incledon was conspicuous. We conceive this to be the great cause why we are not perfectly satisfied to see Braham reigning alone upon the throne of song. Were his treble equal to his tenor, which is the finest we ever heard, we should own ourselves at once one of his most T leal and willing subjects. At the same time let it not for a moment be supposed that we desire to undervalue Braham's powers. We are delighted both with his science and his voice; and what we desiderate, is something perhaps too near perfection ever to be realized by mortal organs, and must consequently exist for ever a beau ideal in our own fancy. It is in his bravura songs that Braham chiefly excels. In softer melodies, though he imparts to them a thousand graces, which no one but himself ever thought of, and which are yet totally distinct from superfluous ornament, there is a frequent want of that clear, rich, bell-like intonation often heard in female voices, and which, in our mind, gives to such airs, when coming from the lips of a man, half their charm. Thus, for example, we have heard Moore's beautiful ballad, "O the days are gone," better sung in private, although, we confess, by only one gentleman, who is now dead, than it was sung by Braham on Wednesday evening. Not that Braham did not feel most deeply the sentiment of the song, and in one or two passages gave it a beauty which we did not know before it was capable of possessing, but because there was every now and then a slight huskiness, and a recourse to a falsetto, which jarred upon our feelings. Let us pass, however, to Braham's own peculiar ground,-to such songs as, "Here's to the King, God bless him," "The Austrian Trumpet's bold alarms,"" The Last Words of Marmion," or the national melody of "Blue-bonnets over the Border." Here we shall find him reigning supreme. He knows his power, and he sports with it as it were. The delightful energy with which he pours forth, in one breath, a whole volume of tone, which rolls upon the ear like thunder that has been set to music, is at once spirit-stirring and overpowering. Were Braham suddenly to start up among a party of the veriest radicals that ever breathed, universal suffrage men, with their whole souls fixed upon liberty and equality-were he to start up and sing "Here's to the King, God bless him!" every man in the company would by that irresistible spell be metamorphosed into an ultra-royalist. In the "Death of Marmion," how splendidly does he give the words Charge, Chester, charge!" and when did ever conqueror upon the field of battle, even in his first burst of wild joy, shout out "Victory!" as Braham in this song shouts it to the crowded theatre? The effect is electric; there is not a man who hears it who could not at that moment throw himself headlong upon a host of foes, and die imagining that he had conquered. In "Bluebonnets over the Border," although we think that in one or two places, instead of the prettinesses introduced by Braham, a manly simplicity would have been better, yet is it utterly impossible ever to forget it after once listening to his enunciation of the line, 66 "Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow." Were it only to hear this single line, Braham is entitled to draw crowds every night wherever he may appear throughout all broad Scotland. The song was of course rapturously encored on Wednesday evening; but encoring was not enough, it should have been twice encored. When Sinclair was here he was made to sing three times almost every night, that silly vulgar thing, "Hey the bonny breast-knots;" why should not Braham be called upon for a third repetition of that far nobler and more national song, "The Blue-bonnets over the Border?"As to Braham's acting, it is enough to say that he is the best singing actor with whom we are acquainted. Minute criticism upon it is of course out of the question. It is in the fervid energy and ever-varying expression of his songs that his power lies. To be properly appreciated, he must be heard. He is a stout, rather short man, and his person is by no means particularly elegant. His features, though their expression is pleasing and intelligent, are withal somewhat vulgar. But these, with such a man as Braham, are minor considerations. A Miss Phillips, who accompanies Braham, has a sweet, clear voice, but thin, feeble, and of little compass. great deal of pains has evidently been taken with her, and she labours to do all she can; and what is better, she knows what she should do, though she cannot always accomplish it. Were she to confine herself to simple national airs, either Scotch, English, or Irish, there can be no doubt that she would seldom fail to please; but in attempting to sustain the principal female parts in opera with Mr Braham, she is beyond her depth. Her" Even as the Sun," which Miss Noel used to sing so successfully, and in which she was always encored, was quite ineffective, because her voice wants volume. It strikes us also that Miss Phillips' power of intonation is deficient. She sings too much merely from the mouth and throat; she gives out her notes with too small a quantity of breath. Could she not correct this error? She is pretty, and is a modest, and rather a promising actress. The Theatre closes this evening till after the November Sacrament. We advise Mr Murray to get a few new scenes painted during the interval ;—he needs them.-We agree with several correspondents, that the style in which some of the Edinburgh critics were pleased to speak of Madame Vestris cannot increase our opinion of their independence. But the subject is somewhat stale, and we have no desire to recur to it. Old Cerberus. ORIGINAL POETRY. THE NEW POETIC MIRROR. NO. II.-MR T-. M. By the Ettrick Shepherd. And look'd in its waters so bright, They could see the stars basking in light. There, far on a heaven below, 1 saw the light clouds lie at rest; And though of a sweet sunny glow, They were pure as the first early snow As they slept on that sky's lowly breast. My soul was to softness subdued, And in languor I lay and gazed on; Some thoughts of delight I pursued As the depths of that heaven I view'd, But planets or stars I saw none. At length, there appear'd unto me Two bright little stars in the tide, They were nigher than stars wont to be, And sweeter and fairer to see Than aught in those heavens beside. I gazed till my eye-sight grew dim, I saw the lips ope with a smile, And the breast of the rose was their hue, And the twin stars shed blushes the while, Enough any heart to beguile That ever loved beauty to view. Query-Thomas Moore?-ED. Tales of my Time, by the Authoress of Blue Stocking Hall,' will appear in a few days. The Memoirs of the Court of Louis XVIII., by a Lady, said to have been in the confidence of his Majesty, will be published in a few days. Lieutenant Hardy's Travels in the Interior of Mexico are on the eve of publication. He has, it appears, explored many parts of that country never yet visited by any traveller. Parallel Miracles; or, the Jews and the Gipsies, is announced by Samuel Roberts, who undertakes to prove, that the latter tribe are the descendants of the ancient Egyptians denounced by the Prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel. Stories of a Bride, by the Authoress of "The Mummy," are snounced for speedy publication. The following works are in the press :-Tales in Vcrse, illustrative of the several petitions of the Lord's Prayer, by the Rev. W. F. Lyte, -Tales of Four Nations, -The Correspondence and Diary of Raph Thoresby, by the author of the "History of Leeds.” PORTRAIT OF OLIVER CROMWELL.-We have seen a very spirited engraving, by Wilson of Edinburgh, of a highly characteristic por. trait of Oliver Cromwell, painted by Walker, the fellow-student and contemporary of Jameson, the Scottish Vandyke. It is decidedly superior to Lely's portrait of the Protector, and cannot fail to give additional interest to the forthcoming volume of Dr Russell's Life of Cromwell, for which work it has been engraved by the proprietors of Constable's Miscellany. THE SCOTTISH ACADEMY.-It was generally understood some time ago, that a misunderstanding had taken place between the greater body of the artists belonging to the Royal Institution and its DirectThe consequence was, that twenty-four artists, associates of the Royal Institution, instructed their agent, Henry Cockburn, Esq. advocate, to address a letter to George Watson, Esq., President of the Scottish Academy, intimating their desire to be united with the ors. Academy, and their willingness to subject themselves to all its rules. The Academy, having taken this proposal i to consideration, appointed John Hope, Esq. Solicitor-General, as their referee, to confer with Mr Cockburn upon the subject, and it was mutually agreed, that whatever was recommended by these gentlemen should be acceded to by both parties. A copy of their "Award," which has just been printed, and which has been unanimously approved of at a general meeting of the members of the Scottish Academy, has been put into our hands. By this document, we find that Messrs Hope and Cockburn are of opinion that the twenty-four artists who have seceded from the Royal Institution, should be joined to and become members of the Scottish Academy, as at present constituted; and that as the Academy now unites so many men of the highest genius, of established reputation, and of undoubted energy and perseverance in the cultivation and pursuit of the profession which they have chosen, the building or adaptation of Rooms should be commenced immediately, "on a scale suited to the plan of the Academy, so as thereby to be a pledge to themselves and to the public of the spirit with which the objects of the Academy will be promoted, and of the great and splendid prospects for the cultivation and progress of the Fine Arts, which the union so formed holds out to the public of Scotland." We shall take an early opportunity to state at some length our own views and feelings upon this interesting subject. Meanwhile, we must bestow the highest praise both upon Messrs Hope and Cockburn for the liberal and gentlemanly spirit in which they have entered into the affairs of the Scottish Academy, and upon the Academy itself for its clear perception of, and ready acquiescence in, what was most conducive to the best interests of Scottish Art. EDINBURGH SURGICAL HOSPITAL.-Till the commencement of the present year, there existed only one Surgical Hospital in Edinburgh. At that period Mr Syme, whose talents are well known to the Medical profession, determined upon instituting a new Surgical Establishment upon a respectable scale. With this view, he took a lease for ten years of Minto House, a large and commodious building, situated in a quiet and healthy part of the city, and in the immediate vicinity of the University. The first quarterly Report of the new Hospital is now published, and we are glad to perceive by it that its concerns are already in a prosperous condition. A highly respectable body of directors has been appointed, the public has contributed liberally towards the support of the Hospital, the vacancies for house surgeons have been well filled up, more clinical students have applied than could be received, and there is good reason to hope that the Col A TREATISE on the Law of Prescription in Scotland, by Mark lege of Surgeons will speedily recognise attendance upon Mr Syme's Napier, Esq. advocate, is preparing for publication. Mrs S. C. Hall, the Editor of the "Juvenile Forget-Me-Not," announces for early publication a volume for the Young, under the title of "Chronicles of a School Room; or, Characters in Youth and Age." Hospital as a qualification for obtaining their diploma. During the first three months, seventy patients were admitted, thirty operations were performed, and only two deaths took place. This Establishment has our best wishes, and under its present able superintendence its success seems certain. |