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child of James Hay, Esq. of Collipriest.
27. At Gifford's Park, Edinburgh, in the
bloom of youth, Margaret daughter of the
late Mr Daniel Macnaughton of the Excise.

At Bentley Priory, Stanmore, John James Hamilton, Marquis of Abercorn, K. G. &c. The fatal complaint existed in the stomach, said to be attended by an enlargement of the liver. The noble lord suffered much previous to his demise. The Marchioness and Lady Maria Hamilton, his daughter, were present. By the death of this nobleman the poor have sustained an incalculable loss. He was in his 64th year. His lordship had been thrice married. His first wife was Catharine, daughter of Sir J. Copley, by whom he had a son, James, the late Viscount Hamilton, who died leaving a son, born in 1811, now Viscount Hamilton. His second wife was Lady Cecil Hamilton, his marriage with whom was dissolved by act of parliament in 1798; and his third wife was Lady Anne Hatton, daughter of the Earl of Arran, who survives him.-29. At Edinburgh, after a short illness, in the 40th year of his age, Mr George Adamson, printer.

Rosebank, near Falkirk, James Henderson, Esq.-At Edinburgh, Donald Cameron, Esq.-At No 13, Charlotte Street, Dunbar Davidson, only child of the late Major George Davidson, of the 42d regiment, aged 14 years.-18. At Bloomsbury Square, London, Lieut.-Colonel Baynes, assistantdeputy-adjutant-general, royal-artillery.Mrs Pollock, South Bridge, relict of Mr James Pollock, Edinburgh.-At London, Mrs Lilly Liddell, spouse to Mr A. Hall of London.-19. At her son's house, Park Street, aged nearly 80, Mrs Mackay, relict of Mr John Mackay, in Clyth, Caithness. -At Annan, Mrs Agnes Irving, relict of Mr John Irving, farmer, aged 81.-At Dumfries, Miss Martha Hannah, daughter of Mr John Hannah, cabinet-maker there. -At Wigton, Dr Robt Couper.-20. At Edinburgh, Hugh Ross, Esq. of Kerse. At Musselburgh, in the 26th year of his age, Captain James Stirling, late of the 42d regiment, son of Major-General Stirling. 21. At Leith, Mrs Magdalene Ferguson, relict of Francis Sharp, late comptroller of the customs there.-At Dumfries, Miss Henrietta Hope.-22. At Aberdeen, Mrs Ann Brown, spouse of Dr James Brown, Lately-At the advanced age of 99, John physician there, and second daughter of Smith, who had been porter at the King's the late Joseph Cumine of Auchry, Esq. printing-house, London, for more than 60 -At Glasgow, Mrs Christian Cameron, years. He wore a cocked hat, according wife of Henry Monteith, Esq.-At Kinloss, to the ancient costume, and enjoyed uninthe Rev. John Hoyes, minister of that terrupted health almost to the time of his parish, in the 74th year of his age, and decease.At Coventry, in his 87th year, 40th of his ministry. A widow and family Robert Simson, Esq. M. D. for more than of nine children lament his death. At the half a century an eminent and highly resWater of Leith, Mr Alexander Stiven, aged pected physician in that city. He was son 74, 52 of which he was brewer there. At of Dr Thomas Simson, late professor of her house, Greenhead, Glasgow, in the 88th medicine and anatomy in the University of year of her age, Mrs Mary Campbell, wi- St Andrews, and Nephew of the late Dr dow of the Rev. George Lawrie, D.D. mi- Robert Simson, the celebrated professor of nister of Loudon, and daughter of the mathematics in the University of Glasgow. learned and celebrated Dr Archibald Camp--At Hampton Court Palace, the Right bell, late professor of divinity in the University of St Andrews.-At Fern Tower, Miss Esther Caroline Baird, second daughter of the late Major-general Joseph Baird, and niece to General Sir David Baird, Bart. G.C.B.-24. At his mother's house, Lawn-market, James Henderson, writer, late of Falkirk.-24. At Edinburgh, Robert Beatson, Esq. L.L.D. late barrackmaster at Aberdeen. At Edinburgh, Miss Elizabeth Murray, aged 72, eldest daughter of the deceased Mr James Murray, winemerchant, head of Todrick Wynd.-At Craig, Robert Gordon, Esq. of Craig.-25. At Dumfries, Joseph, youngest son of the late Mr Joseph Broom, merchant.-At Edinburgh, Mr William Bailie, accountant to the British Linen Company.-At House of Hill, Mrs Isabella Hill, spouse of Mr Archibald Wilson.-At Edinburgh, Andrew Macfarlane, Esq. late of Jamaica, uncle of Lieutenant-general Sir Robert Macfarlane of Gartartan, K.C. B.-26. At Collipriest, in Devonshire, James, youngest

Hon. Lady Caroline Herbert, sister to the late Duke of Manchester.-At Cheltenham, Alexander Peterkin, Esq. of Chatham, in the island of Jamaica, and of Greshope, in the county of Moray.-At London, Lieut. general William Souter Johnston. This officer was at the siege of Quebec in 1759, and distinguished himself in the memorable battle of Bunker's-hill, where he was severely wounded.-At Ormly, John Rose, Esq. sheriff-substitute of Caithness.At Hastings, Sussex, H. Martelli, Esq. of Norfolk Street, London, whose eldest son, a boy of eleven years old, was a short time since, left by his grandfather one hundred thousand pounds, to be placed to the best advantage until he attains the age of twenty-one. Sir Claude Champion de Crespigny, Bart. D. C. L. for near half a century receiver-general of droits of Admiralty.-At Keil, Mr Alexander Stewart, late tacksman of Inshaig, in the 83d year of his age.-At her house, No. 45, North Frederick Street, Mrs Jane Walker.

Oliver & Boyd, Printers, Edinburgh.

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WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, NO 17, PRINCE'S STREET, Edinburgh;
AND JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, LONDON;
To whom Communications (post paid) may be addressed;

SOLD ALSO BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS OF THE UNITED KINGDOM.

[OLIVER & BOYD, Printers.]

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

THE Review of Captain Tuckey's interesting Narrative shall appear in our next Number.

The Letter from Berkshire has been received by us as a very particular favour. The practice of which our friend disapproves, has not, we assure him, been adopted without considerable reflection, and now that it is fairly established, we feel unwilling to depart from it.-The Essays on Italian Literature, and particularly on the Modern Italian Drama, which he expresses so much anxiety to see, are in an advanced state of preparation, and shall make their appearance in the course of our next Volume. Any communications from our respected correspondent will be most acceptable.

"Cambria" is unavoidably deferred till next Number. We hope the promised communications from the same quarter may arrive in time to bear it company in our next.

The Critique on Mr Yates" (the new actor), and the "Remarks suggested by the Dinner given in this City to Mr Kemble," have come too late for this Number.-Nothing would give us greater pleasure than to insert a regular account of the " Acted Drama in Edinburgh," nor do we know any person to whom we could more willingly intrust it than our correspondent. We agree with him in thinking that the present condition of our Scottish Theatricals reflects great discredit, not on our actors (for these are good, and would become much better were their exertions properly stimulated or rewarded), but upon the corrupt and effeminate taste of the public, who seem to have pretty nearly lost all relish for the rational amusements of the preceding generation.

The "Essay on Party Spirit" soon. Also the Testimonia."

The Remarks on the Lyrical Poets of the Old Testament, if possible, in

No XIV.

We hope the Author of the Account of the Kraken will pursue his interesting speculations.

We shall at all times be most happy to insert the communications of Y. whose abilities we highly respect, when they do not accidently interfere (as in the case of his criticism on Dryden's Dramatic genius), with arrangements previously made with other correspondents.

"Answers to Queries on the Poor Laws, &c." in our next. This correspondent's communications shall always meet with attention.

Want of room prevents us from noticing, at present, the communications of a vast number of other correspondents.

A friend whom we permitted, for a different purpose, to have access to our Cabinet of Communications, has amused himself by drawing up the humorous "Notices" on the opposite page. We do not insert them, as he wished us to do, by way of serious answers to our correspondents; but merely because we wished our readers to partake in a jeu d'esprit, which afforded so much pleasure to ourselves. Subscribers can either drop or retain the pages as they please, when they send their sets to the binder.

CONTRIBUTORS to Blackwood's Magazine,
Our honoured Correspondents one and all,
Ye who in Blackwood's shop are never seen,
And ye who once per diem use to call.
When thro' the following pages ye shall look,
Some will seem grim among you, and some gay;
Joyous the scribblers who have found a nook,
Gruff those deferred till April or till May.
Necessity, quoth Horace, hath no legs!
"Twould ruin Ebony to print the whole;
The veiled Conductor your forbearance begs;
We can't afford twelve sheets, upon our soul!
E., N., T. R., A. P., L., F., and H.,
Each several man, we much approve thy article;
We laugh'd at thine, friend S. (you wicked wretch!)
But fear we dare not print a single particle.
Last month we ventured on some savoury bits,
A few good things, exactly to your gout,
They threw the prudish back-shop into fits,
And made even Cognoscenti to look blue.
My lady swears she will no more take in
A journal which such tinker-stories tells;
And now the winter's o'er, the Magazine
Can't walk perdue in muff of modest belles.
Therefore we henceforth purpose ne'er to swerve
From the exactest and most nice morale;
Even Constable's wise herd shall not preserve
Such parlour-window ethics as we shall.
No-not that journal, most unlaughable
Decorous, issuing from that lordly shop;
Which gentle Bob, in vain attempts to sell,
While in his trim boudoir blue stockings stop.
(Divine boudoir, and kind obliging Bobby!
One moment on your charms we pause with joy;
That back-shop is the Muse's airy lobby,
And her most graceful usher, thou, my boy!
Let Musty Laing a pedant crowd convoke,
'Mid the tall folios of his dungeon drear;
Let shirtless students tolerate the smoke
Of grim Carfrae's putrescent atmosphere;
Let prosing Gazetteer and smart Reviewer,
In Constable's dark den their fingers cool
Let jocund Johnny's sale-room still secure
The tea-pot buying, missal-gazing fool;
Let solemn Dominies to Skelly run,
Let Theologians haunt the Bailie's still;
Dim Antiquarians croak with Jamieson,
And Dilettanti prate with Peter Hill.

But while the young, the beauteous, and the gay,
In circles sit where much-lov'd Miller bows;
There let us lounge the idler hours away,
And chase the wrinkles from our critic brows.)
But to return-next month we mean to handle
Thy yet unrifled treasures, Peu-de-mots,
Nor shall we scruple, Beppo (sink the scandal)
To analyze thine exquisite morceau.
Take care, Guiseppé, times are altered much,
Since charming Pulci and thy Lafontaine ;
If the Suppression get thee in their clutch,
Ne'er shalt thou sing Venetian Dames again.
Of all the blockheads that have sent us verse,
Sure thou, Philemon, art the most obtuse,
Of articles our Blackwood must be scarce,
Eer we waste paper upon such a muse.

Tickler! thy letters, full of point and flame,
May do some good to boys with inky fingers;
Mysterious is the change from Hogg to Grahame
Yet not behind our next the paper lingers.

We're glad to see that Hogg takes no offence
At Timothy ;-and why indeed should he?
Genius is coupled well with manly sense;
Kilmeny's Bard may bear all jokes with glee.
We'll soon insert the letter, dated" Humber,"
But thee" Philander" we with scorn dismiss.
"Juridicus" has sent us perfect lumber;
"The Florist" does not suit a work like this.
We much suspect," Alpina," in last Number,
Was written by a Master-not a Miss.

Best thanks and compliments to Dr Jarvie—
We've two small questions, worthy buck, to ask ye:
Will fewer personalities not serve you?
Why do you always quiz our friends in Glasgow?
Good "Civis Glasguensis," we must beg ye
To pay attention to our friendly hint,
We can't insert your Life of John Carnegie,
Unless he authorises us to print.

We much admire the genius and acumen,
Y., of thine essays on the plays of Dryden;
But H. M., all our English stage will do, man,
Thou surely giv'st the Bard too sore a hiding.

Of pimpled Hazlitt's coxcomb lectures writing,
Our friend with moderate pleasure we peruse.
A. Z., when Kean's or Shakspear's praise in-
diting,

Seems to have caught the flame of either's muse.
Thanks to thee, Lauerwinkel, thanks Mein-herr,
And thanks to thee, our young friend, who dost

render him :

It seldom happens, that, when Britons err, Their German allies sapient counsel tender 'em.

Euphrastes, we declare, is in a phrenzy,

We send him back his papers with our thanks, "Scots Worthies, Number One, Kincaid Mackenzie,"

And Number Two, Sir John Marjoribanks,

Dear Cambrian friend! you've heard a genuine

story,

The ancient Editors have lodged their summons 'Gainst Blackwood (that devout and ill-used Tory); 'Mong wits such measures certainly are rum ones.

Tho' thistles spring profuse on Scottish ground,
And few, few roses lift their heads among 'em,
Yet where the lovely stranger flowers are found,
V. P. believe us, Scottish eyes don't
'em.
wrong

We do request thee, MAKER, from our clay,
To mould us men: we do solicit thee,
From darkness to promote us into day,
The prayer is bold.-Yet our Prometheus be!
A Berkshire Rector has been pleased to wonder
Why we've dismissed the primitive arrangement,
He hates, he says, from verse to prose to blunder,
Our quick transitions seem to him derangement.
Begging our good friend's pardon, we prefer
To mix the dulce with the utile,

And think it has in fact a charming air
Such different things in the same page to see.

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Then comes some song from Albion's Anthology,
Copied per favour of our good friend Sandy;
Dry jokes by the great Author of Petralogy,
And ballads to the tune of Jack-a-dandy.
In all the Magazines for twenty years
The Old Bohemian Gypsey cuts a figure,
And now the hag in Constable's appears,
And sits by Maga's side in youthful vigour.
We mention this, because it was not fair,
In D. from old wives tales this one to single,
To send it to us for insertion here,
And lest we smok'd him, to cheat Mr Pringle.
The old Scots Magazine was, in its time,
A decent reputable plundering book;
We don't think Cleghorn's prose, or Pringle's
rhyme,

Will ever give the work a better look.

But if they really wish to make a stir,
What hinders them from taking in James Graham?
Malthus, Clieshbotham, Bentham can aver
How great Helvidius heaped them all with
shame.

Just here and there, in a few hundred years,
If with keen eye the stream of time we scan,
A Bacon, Newton, or James Grahame, appears
To renovate the intellect of man.
Illustrious youth, though envious dulness sneer
At the bright radiance of thy rising day,
Pursue thy heaven-decreed sublime career,
Be not discouraged though thy works don't pay.
The midnight oil that wastes thy feeble body
Trains and refreshes the immortal soul;
Far wiser ink consume than whisky-toddy-
A proof-shect's better than a flowing bowl.
Printer, Compositor, Pressman, are quaking,
And Oliver and Boyd themselves perplexed,
With our learned paper on that monstrous Kraken,
By the same hand the "Sea Snake" in our next.
The "Fere" make sad work, but Dr Horn
Maintains the thing's a sort of allegory.
We burn'd to-day the" Sonnet to the Morn,"
And likewise made short work of a "Long Story."
"Bess on Flirtation" is but sorry stuff,
While Belles are beautiful, Beaux will be civil.
"Satan Avaunt" is humorous enough;
But we much fear, would vex our printers' devil.

We send our best respects to Dr Chiel,
And thank him for his poem called "The Race."
The doctor uses nimbly hand and heel.
The "Weel-faur'd Hizzie" shall not want a place.
But this is nothing to the purpose-Q,
Did you think wEshould not detect your humming?
Why hear we not more frequently from you,
D. I.? We hope Sir Thomas Craig is coming.
The "Necromancer" is no witch, we fear,
And the " Young Lady" like an old one writes.
This Number of our Work completes the year,
P. will observe. Pray where have prick'd "The
Knights

Errant? They should not stop with Number

ONE.

"T. C. on Shakspeare" doth himself surpass. B's correspondence we would wish to shun. The man who writes "On Baxter" is an ass.

Few things more sweetly vary civil life
Than a barbarian savage tinkler tale.
Our friend who on the Gypsies writes in Fife,
We verily believe, promotes our sale.
From various quarters we have understood,
A certain Baronet is waxing wroth,
So we incline, ere long, to cool his blood,
And give the Knight some salt unto his broth.
Fitted to give an Editor the vapours,
Thine essay," Crito," is, we frankly tell ye,
Quite otherwise with three ingenious papers,
Named "Rembrandt, Galileo, Machiavelli."
The last of these our present Number decks;
Though things anonymous our tempers vex,
Unto its author we are grateful debtors;
On this occasion, thank ye, "MAN OF LETTERS."

66

Bibliopola Londinensis," deem

Not fudge the whole of these appalling rumours;
A deep and bigot horror, it would seem,
Some brethren have conceived 'gainst Blackwood's
humours.

The most are sadly under one huge thumb-
Even Pat, we hear, upon his last sale dinner,
Tipped Bill a hint in private, not to come,
The pious can't eat salt with such a sinner.

There are some things that do one good in hearing,
Some jokes that should on no account be lost;
What think ye of our Prince of Pisos, swearing
That Blackwood should to Beelzebub be tost?
And why? O portent rare of matchless brass!
For publishing" a parody profane."
How think ye will his own offences pass?
Does the Review a Christian air maintain?
Among those pamphlets stitched in blue and yellow,
Should any searcher take the pains to peer,
How easily could he prove, my worthy fellow,
That all your wits against the Gospel sneer!

And now, in the old business style to stop, Next Number shall grace April's 20th day, By May the 1st they'll be in Baldwin's shop.

To Correspondents-Pray the postage pay.

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