nœuds,

Qui faisoient tout le crime et l'horreur de vos feux,

Hyppolite pour vous devient moins redoutable,

Et vous pouvez le voir sans vous rendre coupable.

This is French morality expressed with all the graces of French poetry! In like manner, Hippolytus describes his passion for Aricie to the lady herself.

Un moment a vaincu mon audace impudente,

Cette ame si superhe est enfin dependente,

Depuis pres de six mois, honteux, desesperé,

Portant partout le trait dont je suis dechiré,

Contre vous, contre moi, vainement je m'

tune,

Mes seul gemissements font retentir les bois, Et mes coursiers oisifs ont oublié ma voix.

Is this the genuine language of feeling? But of this species of false taste, which disfigures the whole of the French poetry, or rather which constitutes its essence, we have already seen enough. Let any one turn up the play at random, and he will find just such conceits expressed in such factitious language. One of the great faults of this tragedy, is a monotony both of thought and expression, without any of the soft lights of imagination that charm the mental vision, or any of the sudden and intense blazes that overpower it, or any of the unexpected bursts of passion that swell the heart with violent yet natural emotion. With this people nothing is natural: their feeling sparkles in epigram, and when they fancy themselves under the influences of inspiration, they rave, and heave, and bellow with the frantic contortions of a false prophetess. I have turned over the play for some redeeming passages, and, after the most attentive perusal, can only find the following. It is the description of the state of Phedre before she swallows the poison, and is a powerful picture.

Quelquefois pour flatter ses secrettes douleurs,

Elle prend ses enfans et les baigne de pleurs,

Et soudain renonçant a l'amour maternelle,
Sa main avec horreur les repousse loin d'elle,
Elle porte au hazard ses pas irresolus,
Son œil tout egaré ne nous reconnoit plus,
Elle a trois fois ecrit, et changeant de
pensée,

Trois fois a rompu sa lettre commencé.

In the year 1804, at Moulinearne market, Mr land-surveyor of was witness to the following facts. A party of gipsies had stolen, or been suspected of stealing, some articles from a John B- farmer in the Braes of Athole. B- took several of the gipsies, and boring holes in the form before his door, and making a like number of wooden pins, he put a finger of each hand of four or five of the gipsies into the holes, and drove in pins upon them till the blood sprung from the fingers. The rumour of the transaction coming to the cars of a justice of the peace, an inquiry was set on foot. B was alarıned, and by means of various presents, one of which was a poney, he induced the gypsies to leave the county, and there the story dropt.

This, I apprehend, is the latest use of pilniewinks in this country. In the year 1745, indeed, an old gentleman, then tutor in a considerable family in the Hebrides, used to say, that the mode of punishing petty crimes in the district in which he lived, was to take out the tine or tooth of a harrow, to put a finger of the culprit into the hole, and then drive the tooth in again upon the finger. Sometimes this kind of torture was applied in order to extort confession, when an additional stroke on the tooth was struck at each reiteration of a question. But while we notice these punishments in our own country, I cannot refrain from mentioning, that, in consequence of some unusual mirth in the English prison in the Isle of France, which disturbed the neighbours, Captain William Fitzwilliam Owen, of the royal navy, a man whose talents and bravery entitle him to the respect of his countrymen, was put into a dungeon, and thumb-screws applied for thirty-six hours. Gangrene ensued, and it was fully three months before he had the use of his thumbs. This was during the government of General De Caen, whose barbarous treatment of many other prisoners, some of whom were wounded, and many were women, should not be forgotten. G.

ments at present carrying on in this city, it may afford satisfaction to your readers, to see a statement of the funds and expenditure connected with the building of the South Bridge, which was one of the first great improvements on the town.

When the act of Parliament was obtained for building the South Bridge, it was generally expected that the sales of areas for building on would fully reimburse the necessary expence of the undertaking; but in case this fund should fall short, authority was given by the act to levy an assessment on the city and south districts, not exceeding ten per cent. of the valued rents, for making up the deficiency. Certain trustees were named by the act for carrying it into execution, most of whom were persons in official situations, whose other occupations prevented them from giving much of their attention to the details of the business, which were managed by their clerk, who made reports verbally to the trustees from time to time, upon which their minutes proceeded.

It does not appear that any steps were ever taken to bring the accounts to a balance, till some claims were lodged with the clerk, on the funds remaining unappropriated, and as these claims were not immediately connected with the objects of the original trust, the trustees were induced to bring a process before the Court of Session, for ascertaining to whom the balance of the funds might in safety be paid; in the course of which process a report was made by an accountant, containing a very full view of the whole funds and expenditure under the trustees' management, from which the accompanying abstract is taken.

cient for the purposes of the trust, without disposing of these areas; but trusting to the verbal reports of their clerk, (who never appears to have given any written view of the state of

the funds,) they were induced to believe this would not be the case, a circumstance which the public have reason to regret, not only as affecting the Infirmary, but as losing the opportunity of throwing open the view of the College, which can never now be seen to proper advantage.

From the following abstract it appears, that, after executing the objects of the trust, the surplus fund amounted to L.23,681 9 6

But of this there arises from interest on the surplus funds, after the works were completed,

8,434 1 0

Brought forward L. 108,150 5 11
EXPENDITURE.

For building the South Bridge,mak.
ing and paving the streets connect-
ed with it, levelling the High
Street, alterations on the Tron
Church, and making the commu-
nication between Potter Row and
Bristo Street L. 15,566 16 8
Prices of houses and
areas in the line of
the bridge, &c.
purchased by the
trustees,

Ditto in Potter Row,

Bristo Street, &c. Interest paid on money borrowed for carrying on the works Expences of the Act of Parliament, law charges, and other expences of management Prices of areas, and other debts remaining due by the trustees, including interest to Whitsunday 1817 Total expenditure connected with the bridge

45,994 5 0

6,544 19 5

10,175 4 3

4,822 18 1

1,264 11 Q

Surplus fund, after accomplishing

84,468 14 5

the original objects of the trust L 23,681 9 6

In the course of the process before the Court of Session, warrants were given for the following payments, viz.

To the city chamberlain towards the expence of draining the Meadows L. 5000 0 0.

To ditto, for general purposes, per

warrant

To tradesmen employed in building the College

For the expence of paving Nicholson's Street

3000 0 0

7631 12 6

962 9 11

cninstances, notwithstanding those differences of latitude and longitude which were once supposed to influence men as they do gooseberry bushes. I am, Sir, your obedient servant, M. G.

London, May 6, 18

At length, my dear John, I am at home, the very boundary and goal of an Englishman's wishes from the moment he leaves his native shore till he returns to it. Of all the nations I have visited, from Lapland to Caffraria, and from Patagonia to Greenland, there is not one that can come up to the English in curiosity. Indeed, it is to this national virtue that we must ascribe the excessive fondness of the people of this capital for seeing lions. Now, do not, my good friend, imagine, that I mean that it is the fashion to go to see his Majesty's wild beasts in the Tower, through the medium of a bribe to the beaf-eater in waiting. But I must try to give you a sketch of the various kinds and degrees of lions which, from time to time, engage the curious eyes of the most polished and rational capital in the world, first noticing, that, far from valuing a town lion for its age, as Polito or a tower-porter would do, the gazers in London scarce see any beauty in one of more than three weeks old, in the height of the season, though, towards the beginning and the end, I have known their attractions last nearly twice that time.

A London lion may be of any age, form, or sex, and indeed all these particulars must differ with the rank and calling of the spectator. For instance, a country cousin, come to town to see if the streets are paved with gold, is introduced to St Paul's, Westminster Abbey, the Monument, and the Water-works, as lions. An inquisitive traveller is shewn "Meux's new brewhouse," the chain cable manufactory, and the London and West India docks, and is told that now he has seen the lions. But these are so akin to the noble four-footed king of beasts, whose value increases with age, that I shall abstain from farther mention of them, and proceed, at once, to the real ephemeral lion of London; and,

though I cannot pretend to the anatomical skill of a Home or an Abernethy, I trust my description will enable you to identify the species, if you should meet with such on your travels.

When Shakespear made Snug the joiner play the part of lion, he was certainly not less gifted with the prophetic spirit than when, in his As You Like It, he anticipated the best portion of the Lake school of poetry; for the modern lions of London have really arms, and legs, and heads, for aught I can discover by the outside, like ordinary men and women, dressed, too, in breeches and petticoats, according to their sex; though, to tell you a secret, I have heard it whispered that the petticoated lions have all another dress beneath; but this, I am pretty certain, is mere scandal, because the state and title of lion is not always of the noble creature's own choosing.

Lions, in general, eat, drink, walk, and talk like ordinary human beings; and, although each of them must have some little distinguishing peculiarity, yet there are three pretty distinct characters, the haughty, the timid, and the satisfied. The first class is far the most courted, and, I think, the most rare. You shall see one of these with the very face and figure of the Giaour, surrounded by all the youngest, and loveliest, and wisest, and wittiest of our exquisite societies, turning his handsome head away, and smiling contempt upon his flatterers, who retreat awe-struck, then advance again, and, I believe in my heart, would show a scratch from his adorable claw as a trophy. Then your timid lion is hunted round and round, till he is made to stand and face about in his own defence; while your goodnatured satisfied lion walks his paces, raises his voice, bristles his mane, at the request of the spectators, and seems just as pleased as they are; and these lions are far the most numerous, and, therefore, shortest lived, and least cared for. It would be scarcely conceivable how the succession of lions is kept up, did we not know of what immense importance it is to every lady to have her house fuller than it can hold on her at-home nights, and, consequently, how essential it is that she should have something to

that Grosvenor Square cannot rival;

and it is curious to see how nights are arranged and re-arranged, to secure that indispensable article of fashionable demand. If the author, with his poem in manuscript, is the lion at House, the publisher, with the first proof in his pocket, has an excellent chance of being lion in Street. If a new buffa singer is displaying his powers at a certain Marchioness's, her rival is sure to make Old N- -i bring some of that new man's songs, and run over them, that she may not be taken by surprise by any of the happy set who have heard the first roar of the new lion.

Well would it be if the love of lions rested here; but the mania for these creatures has increased to such an alarming height, that all the innocent sports and pastimes of youth seem in danger of being banished by it.

My poor little niece Mary complained to me t'other day, that though she has been out two whole winters, she never got half through a single country dance, without being called off to run after the lion poet, or the lion heiress, or the lion authoress; and that even if her chaperon had allowed her to dance on, she scarcely ever met with a partner who did not leave her the instant the mighty monster was announced.

Mary's brother is just as angry at the lions as she is, and says it is very hard, when he thinks he has just secured his mistress's attention, to be obliged to listen to the grave saws of a political lion, the romance of an enthusiastic lion, and the metaphysics of a German lion, till the fair occasion is gone which he had been on the watch for months past to attain. But my letter is long enough. Tell me if this pest has reached the East. Yours

quarrels with my Mehmendar, and the thousand and on vexations attendant on travelling in a half civilized country, till I arrived at court. There my evil genius took possession of me, for, just as I alighted from my horse, a court favourite happened to get so violent a kick from his courser, that, had I not bled him on the spot, he would never have risen from the earth. This success constituted me a favourite, and, of course, a lion. The first symptom of my change of nature was an invitation to visit his majesty, the bearded Futeh Ali Shah himself, which visit being instantly buzzed abroad, in less than half an hour I had all the nobles of the court in and round about my tent; my clothes were examined, my mathematical instruments ran the risk of being ruined by the awkward handling of the right honourable fingers of visiers, muftis, emirs, and cazees; and I was detained so long to exhibit my skill in the Persic and Arabic tongues, that I feared my reception at court would have been scarcely agreeable. However, curiosity insured me those honours which royal impatience had nearly refused, and my first visit went off tolerably well.

But, alas! I was now a lion. I could not steal out to take a view of the city, but all the little ragged boys followed me, with long live the saviour of Hadjee Cassim's life, the favourite of the great king. Deafened with their noise, if I retreated to my tent, there were Hadjee Cassim's thousand relations with fevers and broken bones to be cured by the great Hakim. I never ate a meal in peace, for I never remember seeing my tent empty for a moment, and seldom was I allowed to eat at home. One night I must attend the visier, and though I detest tobacco, and sherbet disagrees with my stomach, etiquette forced me to take my calioon and drink in my turn, and, what is worse, to laugh at all the stories which, in different forms, have been transplanted from Joe Miller into the Tooti Nameh, and from the Tooti Nameh into Joe Miller, without mercy or consideration for time or climate. My back was broken and my legs numbed by squatting instead of sitting, and my stomach and head equally the worse for the smoke and the sour drink I had swallowed.

3 L