to meet, Sir, Yo most affectionat cousin and servant,

(Signed)

London, Feb. 19.

For Collonell Grame of Clavers. (For his Majestie's speciall service.)

SIR, The Lo. Comissioner shewd y letter. If there be any danger by horse, it most be from the Border; so propose what yow judge expedient, and writt it to ye E. of Dumbarton. The army is thus posted: the foot, horse, and dragoons, which were w Lt Gen Drum and Coll. Dowglas, are at or near Air; what can be spared from this will goe thither also. The militia, which revendevouzes at Lithgow, are to be posted at Glasgow till they be put in order. Marqs of Athole will have above 3000 in Argyleshyr; the Marqs of Huntly some more at Lochness-head, but not so soon; Athole being already into Argyle. Charles Campbell, sonne to Argyle, is levying in Argyle some heritors; and toward 300 commons have joined him. Argyle keeps ye sea wt 5 ships; the frigats will be with him shortly. The king hath sent commissiones to Coll. Dowglas and you, as brigadeers both of horse and foot: Dowglas is prior in date. Ships by both seas are comeing on Argyle; and some armes, both for horse and foot, are comeing hither by a yacht. Wee hear yt about 30 horsmen came over ye Border, and returned in few hours. Wee have writt to Feilding, who is deputy governour of Carlyle, to correspond wt yow, and wee desyre yow may wt him. Lett us hear freqtly, and yow shall have still return from, Sir, Your affectionat freinds and servants,

(Signed) QUEENSBERRIE, Com?
PERTH, Cancell.
DUNBARTON.
TARBAT.

Ed 23 May 1685.

Haste Feilding's letter to him.

LEITH BATH STOVE.

[The following curious old handbill is reprinted, literatim, from a copy preserved in the Advocates' Library. It is without date, but is probably as old, at least, as the beginning of last century.]

many, which is approven by all the Doctors of Physick and Apothecaries in Edinburgh, and elsewhere: As also by all Travellers and Gentlemen, To be a Sovereign Remedy in curing of all Diseases, and for preventing of sicknesses both of young and old, Men, VVomen, and Children, from half-year upward: VVith the help of Doctors of Physick thereto.

The foresaid Bath-Stove will contain twelve or fifteen Persons, which will be bathed in half an hours time after they enter the Bathe. Likewise if they repair as they do to Bathes in other countreyes, this Bathe is able to give content to Fourscore Persons aday.

The Diseases that are commonly Cured by the said Bathe, are these; The Hydropsie, the Gout, Deafnesse, the Itch, sore Eyes, the Cold, unsensiblenesse of the Flesh, the trembling Axes, the Irish Ague, cold Defluxions inwardly, the Melancholick disease, the Collick, and all naturall diseases that are Curable. Probatum est. The Degrees and Prices of the BathStove. The first Degree, sh. d. for preserving the Health,.

00 12 00 Scots.

-00 18 00

The second Degree, for giving or procuring Health, The third Degree, for bringing out hidden Diseases 01 04 00 out of the Bones and Inward parts, Bathing of

For

LINES WRITTEN IN A HIGHLAND GLEN.

To whom belongs this Valley fair,
That sleeps beneath the filmy air,
Even like a living Thing!
Silent, as Infant at the breast,-
Save a still sound that speaks of rest,
That streamlet's murmuring!

The Heavens appear to love this vale;
There, clouds with scarce-seen motion sail
Or 'mid the silence lie!

By that blue arch this beauteous Earth
Mid Evening's hour of dewy mirth
Seems bound unto the sky..

O! that this lovely Vale were mine!
Then, from glad youth to calm decline,
My years would gently glide;
Hope would rejoice in endless Dreams,
And Memory's oft-returning gleams
By Peace be sanctified.

There would unto my soul be given,
From presence of that gracious Heaven,
A Piety sublime;

And thoughts would come of mystic mood,
To make in this deep solitude
Eternity of Time?

On the Spirit of Domestic Happiness.
ALBION! a tutelary Power is thine,
Who lifts thy name among the nations high,
Radiant as Seraph, though of earthly line,
The Eldest-born of Love and Liberty.
A tranquil glory sits upon her face,
That speaks a spirit worthy of her birth;
Though bright with beauty, majesty, and
grace,

Her chosen dwelling is the Cottage-Hearth. There calm she reigns, while sinless Bliss beguiles

The evening-hours with vows of endless truth,

While round her knees the lisping Baby smiles,

Or garrulous Age repeats the tale of Youth. Though calm her soul as Ocean's wavèless

O TAKE not, dearest Mary! from my view
That gentle boy, who, in thy fond embrace
Delighted smiling, lends more winning grace
Unto thy airy form and blooming hue.
"Tis sweet on these young eyes of liquid blue
To gaze-and in the features of a face,
Where nought of Ill hath stampt unhallow'd
trace,

To read "whate'er is Lovely, Pure, and
True."

Ah! happy Child! too soon the Early Dew Of youth shall fade, and scorching suns destroy

The Vernal Freshness time can ne'er renew! Yet sip a while the Elysian draught of joyYet dream a little longer safe from harmsNo ill can reach thee in these angel arms!

SONNET

E.

LINES ON THE GRAVE OF A CHILD. OH, sweet my Baby! liest thou here, So low, so cold, and so forsaken ? And cannot a sad Father's tear Thy once too lovely smiles awaken?

Ah, no! within this silent tomb
Thy Parents' hopes receive their doom!
Oh, sweet my Baby! round thy brow
The Rose and Yew are twin'd together:
The Rose was blooming-so wast Thou-
Too blooming far for Death to gather.

The Yew was green,-and green to me
For ever lives thy Memory.

I have a flower, that press'd the mouth
Of one upon his cold bier lying,
To me more fragrant than the South,
O'er banks of op'ning violets flying;
Although its leaves look pale and dry,
How blooming to a Father's eye!
Oh, sweet my Baby! is thine head
Upon a rocky pillow lying?
Thy lullaby a father's sighing?
And is the dreary grave thy bed

Oh, chang'd the hour since thou didst rest
Upon a mother's faithful breast!
Oh! can I e'er forget the kiss
I gave thee on that morn of mourning.
That last sad tender parting bliss
From Innocence to God returning

Lalla Rookh. An Oriental Romance. By THOMAS MOORE. 4to. London, Longman and Co. 1817. (Concluded from page 285.)

WHEN we gave our readers an account of the "Veiled Prophet of Khorassan," and "Paradise and the Peri," the romance of Lalla Rookh had just been presented to the public, and some anxiety was naturally felt by the friends and admirers of Mr Moore, respecting its ultimate destiny. For the first time, he had come forward as the author of a long and continuous work; and while they, who saw in his former short compositions convincing and satisfactory evidence that he had the strength and power of a poet, confidently hoped that his oriental romance would entitle him to sit by the side of his loftiest contemporaries, others again, who had hitherto regarded him in the light of an elegant and graceful versifier merely, were afraid that he had rashly committed himself in too great an undertaking, and anticipated failure, discomfiture, and defeat. On the first appearance, therefore, of this work, there was a kind of doubting and pausing hesitation and perplexity, in the minds of those readers who think it better to criticise than to admire; and who, instead of yielding to the genial sense of delight which the inspiration of genius awakens, are intent only on the discovery of faults, defects, and imperfections, and ever seeking opportunities of displaying their own acumen and perspicacity. But this wavering uncertainty in the public mind soon gave way to favourable decision; the carping criticism of paltry tastes and limited understandings faded before that burst of admiration with which all enlightened spirits hailed the beauty and magnificence of Lalla Rookh; and it was universally acknowledged throughout Britain, that the star of Moore's genius, which had long been seen shining on the horizon, had now reached its altitude in heaven, and burnt with uneclipsed glory among its surrounding luminaries.

As, however, a two-guinea quarto must have a comparatively slow circu

lation, it is probable that many of our readers have not yet seen this delightful romance, and will be obliged to us for an analysis of the "Fire Worshippers" and "The Light of the Haram," with such extracts as may enable them to judge for themselves of the poetical genius which they display. They must bear in remembrance the wild and supernatural majesty of the Veiled Prophet-the pomp and magnificence of his array, when waging war against tyranny and superstition-the demoniac and remorseless wickedness of his soul, rendered fierce and savage by the hideous aspect with which nature had cursed himhis scorn, and mockery, and insult, and murder, of all the best hopes, and passions, and aspirations of humanity his headlong and precipitous career, whether in victory or defeat-his sinful and insane enjoyment of distraction, misery, and blood-and, finally, his last mortal repast, where he sat alone amid the poisoned carcases of his deluded proselytes,—and that fearful plunge into annihilation from the shipwreck of his insatiable ambition, which left on earth only the remembrance of his name and the terror of his guilt. In contrast with this mysterious Personification, they will remember the pure and lofty faith of the heroic Azim in the creed and destiny of the Impostor-his agony on discovering the delusion under which he had cherished such elevating dreams

his silent, and uncomplaining, and rooted despair, when he finds his Zelica the prey of sin and insanityhis sudden apparition, like a WarGod, among the triumphant troops of the Caliph-and at last, when his victorious career is closed, his retirement into solitude, and his calm and happy death, a gray-haired man, on the grave of her he had loved, and whose Vision, restored to former innocence and beauty, comes to bless the hour of his dissolution, Powerfully and beautifully drawn as these two Characters are, and impressive when separately considered, it will be felt that the most striking effect is produced by their opposition, and that the picture of wicked ambition, relent

less cruelty, insatiable licentiousness, and blaspheming atheism, stands more prominently forward from the canvass, when placed beside that of self-neglecting heroism, forgiving generosity, pure love, and lofty devotion.

But if the wild tale of the Veiled Prophet possessed the imagination of our readers, and awoke all their shuddering sympathies, they will not easily forget the mild and gentle beauties of "Paradise and the Peri," and will turn to it, from the perusal of the other, with such feelings of placid delight as when the soul reposes on the sunny slope of a pastoral hill, after its descent from the grim cliffs of a volcanic mountain. Never was a purer and more dazzling light shed over the dying countenance of a self-devoted Patriot, than over that Hero whose heart's blood the Peri carries to Paradise. There is no needless description-no pouring out of vague and general emotions-none of the common-places of patriotism; but the story of the fallen Hero tells itself. The situation is all in all; his last sighs are breathed beneath the overshadowing wings of a celestial creature, sympathizing in her own fall with the sorrows of humanity; and lying thus by the blood-stained waters of his native river, with the red blade broken in his hand, what more beautiful and august picture can be conceived of unconquerable Virtue? The second picture, of the Lovers dying of the Plague, is not less exquisite. The soul is at once filled with that fear and horror which the Visitation strikes through its vital blood; while, at the same time, the loveliness, the stillness, the serenity of the scene in which Death is busy, chaining the waves of passion into a calm,do most beautifully coalesce with the pure love and perfect resignation of the youthful victims, till the heart is left as happy in the contemplation of their quiet decease, as if Love had bound them to life and enjoyment. Yet the concluding picture of the sinless Child and the repentant Ruffian is perhaps still more true to Poetry and to Nature. Never did Genius so beautify Religion; never did an uninspired pen so illustrate the divine sentiment of a divine Teacher. What a dark and frightful chasm is heard to growl between the smiling sleep of the blessed Infant and the wakeful remorse of the despairing Murderer! By what bridge

shall the miserable wretch walk over to that calm and dreamlike land where his own infancy played? For red though be his hands and his soul, he was once like that spotless Child. The Poet feels deeply feels that sentiment of our Christian Religion, which alone would prove its origin to have been divine; and representing repentance as the only operation of spirit by which our human nature can be restored from the lowest depth of perdition to its first state of comparative innocence, he supposes its first-shed tears not only to save the soul of the weeper, but, by a high and mysterious agency, to open the gates of Paradise to the Peri, as if the sacred shower alike restored, refreshed, and beautified, mortal and immortal Beings.

We feel that our remembrances have carried us away from our present main object. Yet we hope for indulgence. Poetry is not framed for the amusement of a passing hour. The feelings it excites are lodged in the depths of every meditative soul, and when it is considered what undue influence the low-born cares and paltry pursuits of ordinary existence seem, by a kind of mournful necessity, to exert over the very best natures, it can never be a vain or useless occupation, to recall before us those pure and lofty visions which are created by the capacities rather than the practices of the spirit within us, and with which our very sympathy proves the grandeur and magnificence of our destiny.

The ground-work of the "Fire Worshippers," is the last and fatal struggle of the Ghebers, or Persians of the old religion, with their Arab conquerors. With the interest of this contest, there is combined (as is usual in all such cases) that of a love story and though we confess ourselves hostile in general to this blending of indivi dual with general feelings, as destructive of the paramount importance of the one, and the undivided intensity of the other; yet, in this instance, great skill is shewn in the combination of the principal and subordinate adventures, and if there be an error of judgment in such a plan, it is amply atoned for by the vigour and energy of the execution. The scene is laid on the Persian side of the gulph which separates that country from Arabia, and is sometimes known by the name of Oman's Sea. The Fire Wor