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• Illustrations of Blair's Grave, in 12 tive maturity. It is the present tran. Etchings, executed by Louis Schiavo- slator's wish to supply, to the best of his mietti, from the Original Inventions of abilities, (such as they are) this desideWilliam Blake, 4to. 21. 12s. 6d. ratum in English literature. One great

The Speech of William Adam, Esq. object which the translator will keep in M. P. for Kincardineshire, in the view in his notes and illustrations, shall House of Commons, on the third rea- be to accommodate Pliny's descriptions ding of the Scots Judicature bill, on of animals, plants, and minerals, to the the 24th of June 1808. 2s.

nomenclature of the Systema Nature Linnæi. This, he is duly aware, will

constitute by much the most difficult Scottish Literary Intelligence.

part of his labour, and he despairs

of executing it with full satisfaction MR

R MACNEILL intends shortly to either to the public or to himself.

publish a Poem, entitled, “ The But as in the present state of natural Pastoral, or Lyric Muse of Scotland,”. history a translator of Pliny cannot descriptive of the united influence of be excused from making the attempt, our national poetry and music, in sof- he may be permitted to hope, that he tening the passions, and civilizing the shall be able to contribute in some manners of our feudal ancestors on the degree at least towards its accomplish. Borders. As the pastoral state in ment. The translation thus enlarged that quarter has been totally overlook- must extend to six or seven volumes, ed by our early historians, and as it is in octavo; and will be published einatural to suppose that a species of ther in separate volumes successively, melody and song, so remarkable for

or when the whole shall have been fitenderness and genuine passion, must nished, as future circumstances may have produced considerable effects on

render adviseable. the mind of the inhabitants, it is ex

This city has, during the course of pected that the subject will be interest- the present summer, been entertained ing to the lovers of music and poetry with a general Exhibition of Paintings;

Dr Wm. Render is about to publish a laudable practice, which is but newly a work in English, French, and Ger

established here, and has been exman, for the purpose of a class book,

tremely creditable to the talents of to be used by those who study the

our Scottish artists. The portraits of German language, which he teaches. Watson, the humorous pieces of Carse, For the comparison of these languages and the Landscapes of Naismith, this work will possess advantages pe- were among those which drew particuculiar to itself, and in compensation

lar attention from the admirers of the for the care bestowed on the execution

art. In short, the approbation of the of the work, the author will no doubt

public was such as to give every enreceive a remuneration in the patron

couragement to the repetition of a siage of the public.

milar exhibition ; and we hope that Dr Forbes, of Edinburgh, is en

a more commodious room will then gaged on a translation of Pliny's Na- be provided for the purpose. tural History, which is to be accompanied with such notes and illustrations as may be necessary to elucidate the context, a life of the author, Literary Intelligence, ENGLISH and

FOREIGN and a preliminary dissertation on the progress

and gradualimprovement from A Blouse of Lords has been for some infancy, to its present state of compara- time in the press, and will be speedily


published. It is compiled by the Edi- printed off one page at a time, by him. tor of the “

Biographical Index to the self, at a press made by his own hands. House of Commons," consists of a single He began the work ten years ago. volume, of a portable size, and, in addi- A bookseller of Paris has announced tion to the descent of the peers of Eng. his intention to publish a new and im. land, given in an entirely new form, portant work relative to Spain, by Alex. contains an account of the present and ander de la Borde, author of the splenlate ones, their habits, pursuits, and par- did Picturesque Travels in that coun. liamentary conduct. The sixteen Scotch, try. It will be entitled, A Descriptive and twenty-eight Irish members, are in. Guide through Spain, forming five vo. troduced in alphabetical order, as well lumes octavo, and will contain a stateas the bench of bishops, which has never ment of the different branches of indusbefore been attempted.

try, polity, and government of that kingA new biographical work, intended dom ; its natural history; the characters to contain a series of portraits of the and manners of its inhabitants; and the most eminent persons now living or state of the arts, sciences, and literature, lately deceased in Great Britain and at different periods of its history, Ireland, is in a forward state of prepa. In 1806, B. Lafon, a geographer and ration. It will include the most dis- engineer at New Orleans, published a tinguished characters in the senate, the general chart of the Orleans territory, church, the navy and army, the learned comprehending also West Florida and a professions, and the various departments part of the Mississipi territory. The of literature and science; also of those explanations are in the French language, who have most zealously exerted them. and the whole is executed from the most selves in promoting the arts, agriculture, recent observations. The author states, and commerce of the country. The that a considerable portion of his mateportraits will be elegantly and accurate. rials are quite new, such, for example, ly drawn in an uniform manner, from as the courses of the Mississipi, the Alanature, or from original pictures, and bama, Mobile, Pascagoula, Tangipao, the engravings will be perfect fac-simi. Mitalebani, Ticfoha, Amite, Washita, les of the drawings. The work will be Yazoo, and their different ramifications published periodically; and the first with the Mississipi, as also the Pearl, number, containing six portraits, each Red, and Sabine rivers. This map es. accompanied by a short biographical'no. hibits all the country on the gulf, from tice, will appear very soon.

Pensacola to the Sabine inclusive, which Mr W. T. Cumber, of Liverpool, has computing the longitude of the former just completed a work entitled, An En. to be 59° 45', and the latter 980 31 quiry into the State of National Subsist. west from the meridian of Paris, makes ence, as connected with the Progress of an extent of almost seven degrees of Wealth and Population.

longitude. It embraces the whole space Hephæstio's Treatise on Greek Me. from the south point of the Mississipi in tres, corrected from manuscript authori- the latitude of 29° north to the parallel ties, and illustrated with copious notes, of 33°, which is considerably northward is reprinting at the Clarendon press. of Tombigbee fort, the Yazoo mouth,

Proposals have been issued for pub. and the settlement of Nachitoches, malishing by subscription, in six octavo king four degress of latitude. volumes, the Works of the Rev. J. New. The Rev. Dr Madison, president of ton, late rector of St Mary Woollnoth, William and Mary College, during the London.

year 1807, laid before the public his The Rev. W. Davy, of Lustleigh, map of the state of Virginia, upon which near Moreton, Devon, has lately com- he has been many years engaged. It pleted a System of Divinity, and com- includes the whole dominion, from the pilation from polite writers and eminent North Carolina and Tennessee boundivines, &c. in 26 vols. 8vo. containing dary, in 36° 30', to the irregular line 1 13,000 pages, of which only fourteen which separates it from Maryland, Penncopies are printed. The work was com sylvania, Ohio and Kentucky. The piled and written out by Mr Davy longitude in this map, which is about alone, who, though ignorant of the art four feet by six, is reckoned from the of printing, with a few worn-out types, capitol at Washington.






SONG. 'T's not your wont to fly, Mackenzie, Tune" She rose and loot' me in."

Culloden saw thy redd'ned spear, Save thy Prince, 'tis worthy of thee,

THE morning star with trenibling beam

Had bathed his locks in dew, Save him, for the foes are near,

And round the misty bosom'd lake Turn your reeking, gory bayonets,

The wheeling Lapwing flew. Turn their points of death on me,

The dewy-breasted hare withdrew The heart's blood of a Royal Seuart

Where shelt'ring brushwood grows, Boils, and spurns the thoughts to flee. The morn-beam lighten'd the mountain 'Twas this arm made London tremble,

blue While up England's plains we bore,

When lovely Peggy rose.
When, from behind the Highland target O'er her blue eyes and temples fair
Leap'd to death the blue claymore.

Her hair in love-locks fell,
Preston felt your iron-hoof'd chargers, And loosely veil'd her bosom white,
Paw her ground with winton tread,

Where all the graces dwell. Bursting came our warrior torrent, Her fair robes wanton in the wind, Preston groaned with loads of dead.

Her bare feet bathed in dew, Hawley's helmed and sab'red legions

And circling round her slender waist Spurr'd their foam-mouth'd war-horse near,

The balmy morn-breeze fiew. - Falkirk mark'd your bravest warriors 'Twas but yestreen, that rose-pathed cheek Sroop beneath the Scottish spear.

Was wet with tears on mine, Culloden felt our unbroke columns,

'Twas but yestreen my clasping arms Retiring, mow her heath in rage,

Around chát neck could twine. Murray, traitor, meet thy glory,

'Twas bue yestreen, those lips divine, Curs'd in every future age.

Were warmed with many a kiss,

'Twas but yestreen, that congue of thine O'er my land, a base usurper

Confest the tender bliss,
Saakes my sceptre from my throne,
While the band was formed to bear it,

Young sun-beam, shake thy wand'ring Falls, but will not fall alone.


Move lightly on my fair, Spirits of my wrong'd forefathers,

Nor wanton round ber lovely neck, Spirits of my gallant friends,

Nor kiss her bosom bare. Lochiel, Boyd, and Balmarino,

Yestreen this cheek was couched there, Now my sword for blood descends.

With many a melting tale, Back you shrink, you circle round me, And many a dear embrace and prayer, Traitors, yet I never fled,

All in the Hawthorn Vale. Lie there, beat your bloody bosoms,

'Tis not the ranked gold she loves, That is English freedom's bed.

Nor looks which court the sky; Now a patriot's part l've acted,

Nor hearts unwarm'd by nature's love, 1 Death swims, dizzy in my brain,

By grandeur shuffled high, Fled thy gallant soul, Mackenzie,

But 'tis the merit listed eye, As thou lay, midst heaps of slain.

The soul's ennobled part, Must the marble scutcheon'd column

For which she heaves the tender sigh, Rise to tell a tyrant's name,

And keeps her virgin heart. While the patriot--Independence,

Banks of Nith,

HIDALLAN Hides his purpling cheeks for shame. fuiy, 1808.3 But thou, great heart, which bled'st for freedom,

Ti SCOTTISH SONG. Need'st no stones to tell thy fame,

Set to Music by Mr Ross of Aberdeen. See the wet rose-cheek of beauty,

THRO' Cruikston castle's lanely wa's, Minstrel swell your notes of flame.

Tho' wint'ry wind howls wild an' dreary, Banks of Nith, 2

Tho'mirk the cheerless e'ening fa's,

HIDALLAN. July, 1808.

Yet I hae vow'd to meet my Mary.

Ah: the sage;

Ah! Mary, though the winds shou'd rave That, conscious the danger would issue is Wi' jealous spite to keep me frae thee,

good, 'The darkest stormy night I'll brave Twined round it in ringlets expressive of For ae sweet secret moment wi' thee.

care. Loud, o'er Cardonald's rocky steep See the tyrant of man,-how disorder'd his Rude Cartha pours in boundless measure,

pace! But I will ford the whirling deep

Why heaves his fell bosom so big with a That roars between me an' my treasure;

sigh? Yes, Mary, though the torrent rave And why from his dun-robe intent to ela Wi' jealous spite to keep me frae thee,

face, Its deepest ioods I'll bauldly brave

That red drop of life with a stream from For ae sweet secret moment wi' thee.

his eye? The watch-dog's howling louds the blast, He has not a will, nor a passion to feel, An' makes the nightly wand'rer eerie, 'Twas music, the pang, when the sad heart But, when the lanesome way is past,

had broke, I'll to this bosom clasp my Mary.

No, sure, while the fates bade, he whetted Yes, Mary, though stern Winter rave

his steel, Wi' a' his storms to keep me frae chee. He mourn'd o'er the office, which called The wildest dreary night I'll brave

for the stroke. For ae sweet secret moment wi' thee.

Nor wonder, like beauty despairing, rePaisley.



Was Scotia's fair form on the couch of SONNET.

In accents where sorrow and love were On the Death of an Amiable Young Lady.

combind, AH me! how many griefs

, ere life decay,

She pleaded, in mercy, to lengthen his Mus: man encounter in this mortal coil, age. Wh. bonts it that he sees a lengthen d day, But no ;-he, whose fingers could cone the If sorrow pierce his heart so oft the while.

soft shell, What serves his early toil and anxious care' And rouse every being to fame with his To raise a bed of flow'rets, sweet and gay,

lay, If, when they bud and bloom with frag. Must bid this drear scene an eternal fare

well, Fell blasts destroy, and low their beauty

To slumber with peace in the cold house lay.

of clay So fate ordains, and faded is the rose;

Deneath yon green turfs reign unbroken reThe loveliest flow'ret that adorn'd the

pose vale

Yet often yon turfs shall be wet with a Is now no more--no more that beauty

tear; blows

At eve, when the muses unbosom their No more that mind where goodness did

woes, prevail.

And silence, and I, only linger to hear. No more thac hand shall fallen Penury There, wrapt in the shadows, shall fancy


The hero of conquest, great Douglas in No more that voice dispel pale Sorrow's

arms, tear; Her spirit's fled, to where th’angelic train Unfurling his banner 'mid chieftains of uld, With love, and joy, in endless pleasures

Who courted, for glory, the field of

alarms. reign. Glasgow,

And rapt in that day, when, to combat the 12tb Aug. 1808.


foe, Whom late he had hailed by the name of

a friend, VERSES,

He rush'd with a swiftness, surpassing the On the Death of Joun Home, Esq. Author of DovGLAS.

And grac'd with a daring which knew

not to bend. FROM the pillow of Genius, where long

Shall he had stood, And bended his Scythe o'er the silvery • Percy of Northumberland, ballad of hair,

Chevy Chace.

rance rare,








Shall pause to lament, that the boast of the If e'er one hope sprung—'twas when fancy plain,

flew, When towering, unmatch'd is the power And reach'd a grace beyond her usual of his might,

height. By the shaft of a base-born peasant was slain,

Hope may a while, with sweet enlivening

beams, To fall with his fame in the darkness of night.

Shoot balmy comfort thro' the breast of

Care ; No! bright as the glare of yon circle of But who can feast upon her airy dreams? fire,

What bard grow fut on unsubstantial air? His fame shall exult in the pride of its blaze,

So thought the poet, as he sat forlorn, Till time, in th' embrace of craz'd Nature

One hapless night, (for many such had expire,

he,) And Chaos returning, extinguish its rays. Oft sighing, wishid he for th' approach of A sprig from his laurel, now planted sublime,

And oft he wish'd, that morn he ne'er A meed by his country decreed to the might see. brave,

Dark was the night, and loud the tempest's The tomb-stone of Home, its fond guardian

howl, shall climb,

Thro' broken ciles the rushing torrents And o'er it with kindred affection shall


No goblet smil'd to cheer his drooping soul, Edinburgh, ?

G. L.

No crumb had he his hunger to dispel! Sept. 1Stb, 1808.

« Wretch that I am,” exclaim'd he in desTHE POET,


Dead to myself, and to my country lost; A BURLESQUE ELFGY.

Is this the fruit of all my studious care ? HIGH in a garret's lofty precincts dwelt

Is this the fame ambition made its boast ? A wretch, by Phæbus and the nine in. spir'd,

“ Had but these hands been taught some Whose body oft the pangs of hunger felt, Whose mind sublime poetic raptures fir'd.

To serve the world, and for my wants

provide, Mean was his garb, and many a hideous Fierce hunger thus had never gnaw'd my rent,

heart, Expanding, futter'd in the wint'ry storm, Nor this mean garb hung tatter'd at my While bis lean chops, and drooping beaver side.

lent A twofold horror to his meagre form.

" This head, now storld with many a ful

some cant, No rich ytensils, form'd with art and cost,

Of heroes, gods, and bards of ancient His airy household furniture composed ;

times, Ode cobweb'd couch, and table all its boast,

More might have had at life's last hour to This where he eat, and that where he

vaunt, repos'd.

Than idly musing, stringing useless Indulging fancy's visionary flight,

rhymes. Or rapt in extacy of thought sublime,

In boldly pleading for the oppressed's Oft would he sit and muse the live-long

cause, night,

Or truth expounding from its sacred page, Scratching his head, to find some wretch More might have gaind of honour and aped rhyme.

plause, Or poring on some old moth-eaten bouk, Than vending flattr'y, praise, and party Some ancient bard, deep skill'd in classic rage. lore,

“ The laugh of fops, th' unworthy's cruel , With many an eager--many an ardent look,

scorn, Would he, each shining sentiment ex

The critic's malice, and the proud's displore.

dain, li e'er his heart one glow of pleasure knew, Have, in my bosom, planted many a thorn, 'Twas but in dreams of future prospects To wound my peace, and fill my life with bright;


" Spurn'a

useful art,

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