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they mean by clapping their hands and hissing like serpents that way?" said John. That is the way in which they approve or disapprove of any thing; said the young lady. "Is it?" said John, " I thought they war gaun to hun' the dogs on them."

There is another mistake which several of our actors too frequently commit, and though it may appear trifling to them, there is no one thing more ready to draw the disapprobation of the house. It is the custom of turning the face half away from the audience. This not only precludes one half of the house from hearing the dialogue with accuracy, but moreover manifests a degree of perplexity and want of confidence in the actor, and is of course avoided by all good performers as much as possible. The performer on the stage has many caprices and prejudices to encounter, but let him always meet them with boldness and confidence-" For he can conquer who believes he can."

From these desultory remarks, I think it will appear, that with regard to the female side, our stage is completely equipt for comedy of every description this season : but in the male department, there seems to be still a material vacancy. Who are we to look to for the dashing buck, or the tender passionate lover? If these, and several requisite characters in genteel comedy, are only to be supported by Mr W. Murray and Mr Brooke, Mr Thomson and Mr Halliwell, I fear these parts will often be insipid if not disgusting, and the manager will find, to his cost, that the pieces will not go well off. Mr Murray excels in nothing save a drunken man, yet he would have performed Lovewell better than Mr Brooke did.

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Mr Siddons will, no doubt, with his usual perseverance, labour incessantly in such parts himself So much the better -We are always certain of having nothing mean or inanimate from him. But still these are not the characters for which Nature has intended him. His whole deportment, form, voice, and mein, denote the hero; and if he had devoted his talents to the studying of perfection in such characters, or could he be properly supported in them, as he is a most notaable stage hero he would certainly make. In Othello, the Moor, and John of Lorn, the deception is admirable. In each of these, and several other similar characters, he appears naturally to be the very man he is representing but for the parts of the effiminate spark, or youthful whining lover, his harsh sepulchral voice, manly robust frame, and dark meagre | visage, are ill suited.

He would surely do well to moderate his vociferations on the occurrence of any national, loyal, or moral sentiment in his parts. These might, without doubt, be delivered in an impressive manner, without rending them to pieces; except where passion predominates, ranting is highly indecorous, and a deviation from the path of nature; and it is not from him alone that we are doomed to suffer in this respect; for the rest, in endeavouring to imitate their superior, and employer, often break out into the same extravagant and unweildy bellowing.

There is another thing which every true Scotsman, and lover of simplicity, must deeply regret; that is the small proportion of their own national music which is allowed them. These melodious and exhilirating strains, says a living editor, will ever continue to fill a Scots

man's breast with the most pleasingly Legend: that single circumstance, exsensations: and, though he is at present obliged (in conformity to a false taste, imposed on him by a set of pretended connoiseurs) to sit with patience and resignation, listening to his orchestra, and concerts, chattering and trilling at their foreign airs; natural feeling will in a short time prevail, in spite of all their arts to overcome and perswade him out of it.

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I received yours of the 20th October, intreating me to furnish you with the tale, which you say you have heard me relate, concerning the miraculous death of Major Macpherson and his associates among the Grampian hills. I think the story worthy of being preserved, but I never heard it related save once; and though it then made a confiderable impression on my mind, being told by one who was well acquainted both with the scene and the sufferers, yet I fear my memory is not sufficiently accurate, with regard to particulars; and without these the interest of a story is always diminished, and its authenticity rendered liable to be called in question. I will however communicate it exactly as it remains impressed on my memory, with

clusive of many others, strongly demonstrates what music, would best please the ear of a Scottish audience. Why then do they not assert their rights? If the London people have made good their right of chusing their own prices of admission; surely we may claim an equal right to chuse our own music. The performers are paid for the purpose of pleasing the people, and not for shewing them their superiority in the art.

As I intend to make occasional remarks on the players during the winter, I will not tire my readers of the subject at once, but conclude this day's paper with the following astonishing story, transmitted by a correspondent at my request.

out avouching for the particulars relat ing to it; in these I shall submit to be corrected by such as are better informed.

I have forgot on what year it happened, but I think it was about the close of the last centuary, that Major Macpherson and a few gentlemen of his acquaintance, with their attendants, went out to hunt in the middle of that tremendous range of mountains which rise between Athol and Badenoch. Many are the scenes of wild grandeur, and rugged deformity which amaze the wanderer in the Grampian desarts; but none of them surpasses this in wildness, and still solemnity. No sound salutes the listening ear, but the rushing torrent, or the broken eldrich bleat of the mountain goat. The glens are deep and narrow; and the hills steep, and sombre; and so high,

that their grizly summits appear to be wrapped in the blue veil that canopies the firmament. But it is seldom that their tops can be seen; for dark clouds of mist often rest upon them for several weeks together in summer, or wander in detached columns among their cliffs. And during the winter, they are abandoned entirely to the storm, then the flooded torrents, and rushing wreaths of accumulated snows spend their fury without doing harm to any living creature; and the howling tempest raves unccntrouled and unregarded.

Into the midst of this sublime solitude did our jovial party wander in search of their game. They were highly succesful. The heath cock was interrupted in the middle of his exulting whirr, and dropped lifeless on his native waste; the meek ptarmigan fell fluttering among her grey crusted stones, and the wild-roe foundered in the corey. The noise of the guns, and the cheering cries of the sportsmen, awakened those echoes that had so long slept silent: the fox slid quietly over the hill, and the wild deer bounded away into the forests of Glen-dee from before the noisy invaders,

In the afternoon they stepped into a little bothy, or resting lodge, that stood by the side of a rough mountain stream, and having meat and drink, they abandoned themselves to mirth and jolity.

This Major Macpherson was said to have been guilty of some acts of extreme cruelty and injustice in raising recruits in that country, and was, on that account held in detestation by the common pecple. He was otherwise a respectable character, and of honourable connections, as were also the gentlemen who accompanied him.

When their hilarity was at the highest pitch, e'er ever they were aware, a young man stood before them, of a sedate, mysterious appearance, looking sternly at the Major. Their laughter was hushed in a moment, for they had not observed any human being in the glen, save those of their own party, nor did they so much as perceive when their guest entered. Macpherson appeared particu larly struck, and some what shocked at the sight of him; the stranger beckoned to the Major, who followed him instantly out of the bothy: The curiosity of the party was aroused, and they watched their motions with great punctuallity; they walked a short way down by the side of the river, and appeared in earnest conversation, for a few minutes, and from some involuntary motions of their bodies, the stranger seemed to be threatening Macpherson, and the latter interceding; they parted, and though then not above twenty yards distant, before the Majorgot half way back to the bothy, the strangerguest was gone, and they could never see more of him.

"I cannot tell bow the truth may be,

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"I say the tale as 'twas said to me." But what was certainly extraordinary, after the dreadful catastrophe, though the most strict, and extended enquiry was made, neither this stranger, nor his business, could ever be discovered. The countenance of the Major was so visibly altered on his return, and bore such evident marks of trepidation, that the mirth of the party was marred during the remainder of the excursion, and none of them cared to ask him any questions concerning his visitant, or the errand that he came on.

This was early in the week, and on the Friday immediately following, Macpherson proposed to his companions a second expedition to the mountains. They all objected to it on account of the weather, which was broken and rough; but he persisted in his first resolution, and finally told them, that he must and would go, and those who did not chuse to accompany him, might tarry at home. The consequence was, that the same party, with the exception of one man, went again to hunt in the forest of Glenmore.

Although none of them returned the first night after their departure, that was little regarded; it being customary for the sportsmen to lodge occasionally in the bothies of the forest; but when Saturday night arrived, and no word from them, their friends became dreadfully alarmed. On Sunday servants were dispatched to all the inns, and gentlemen's houses in the bounds, but no accounts of them could be learned. One solitary dog only returned, and he was wounded and maimed. The alarm spread-A number of people rose, and in the utmost consternation went to search for their friends among the mountains. When they reached the fatal bothy-dreadful to relate!— they found the dead bodies of the whole party lying scatered about the place!

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Some of them were considerably mangled, and one nearly severed in two.-Others were not marked by any wound, of which number I think it was said the Major was one, who was lying flat on his face.-It was a scene of woe, lamentation and aweful astonishment none being able to account for what had happened; but it was visible that it had not been effected by any human agency.-The bothy was torn from its foundations, and scarcely a vestige of it left-its very stones were all scattered about in different directions-there was one huge corner stone in particular, which twelve men could scarcely have raised, that was tossed to a considerable distance, yet no imarks of either fire or water were visible. Extraordinary as this story may appear, and an extraordinary story it certainly is, I have not the slightest cause to doubt the certainty of the leading circumstances; with regard to the rest, you have them as I had them. In every mountainous district in Scotland, to this day, a belief in supernatural agency prevails, in a greater or lesser degree. Such an awefull dispensation as the above, was likely to re-kindle every lingering spark of it. -On this calamitous event, Walter Scott's beautiful ballad of Glenfinlas, is said to have been founded.

THE DRUID.

THE moon of midnight tinged with blood, The dew that chill'd the wild wood bow; And flung o'er Conway's foaming flood, The horrors of her troubled brow.

The northern meteor's wavering light, Eclipfed the ftarry zone of night, And trembled through her fhadowy form. Pale terror faw the facred fire On Mona's alter-ftone expire,

And Arvon's rocky strength yield to the vengeful form,

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The victims burft the flowery yoke,

That bound them to the central tree:
While o'er the cliff's dark fummits broke
The mountain billows of the sea.
High o'er the adamantine sphere,*
That quiver'd in the eddying air.
A flaming fword portentuous hung,

Where the standard folds of freedom stream'
That myftic fign of vengeance beam'd,
And o'er the warrior hoft its meteor radi.
ance flung.

See Mason's Caractacus,

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Sublime, on Snowdon's awful height,
Tower'd the pale fpirits of the dead!
While circles of unearthly light
Invefted every hoary head.

They left their wand'rings in the sky,
To nerve, with Heaven's own energy.

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*The first Cabort, which always claimed the post of honour, and the custody of the eagle, was formed of 1105 of the most apporoved for valeur aud fidelity. Git bon.

In allusion to the druidical doctrine of Transmigration.

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