A third time warlike cheers are raised

Beneath the noon's unclouded sun:
Upon the patriot band it blazed,

Saw thrice their laurels won,
And hung o'er Roslin's vale amazed,

As erst o'er Ajalon 1 :
Blue Esk, with murmuring stream,

Romantic, journies by
Between its rocky banks, which seem

To woo the summer sky,
With beechen groves, and oaken boughs,

And bloomy wild shrubs, fresh and fair;
While oft the pendent willow throws

Its locks of silver hair
Athwart the waters, which disclose

Its image pictured there.
Three triumphs in a day!

Three hosts subdued by one!
Three armies scatter'd like the spray

Beneath one summer sun.-
Who, pausing ʼmid this solitude,

Of rocky streams, and leafy trees -
Who, gazing o'er this quiet wood,

Would ever dream of these?
Or have a thought that aught intrude,

Save birds, and humming bees?
Roslin, thy castle grey

Survives the wrecks of Time;
And proudly towers thy dark Abbaye,

With pinnacles sublime:-
But, when thy battlements shall sink,

And, like a vision, leave the scene,
Here,-here, when daylight's glories shrink,

On sculptured base shall lean
The patriot of the land, to think

Of glories that have been !

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А

THE SILENT GRAVE.

A Sonnet.
'Twas when mid forests dark the night winds raged,

Tossing their branches with an awful voice;
When clouds lower'd heavy, and the dull drear noise
Of torrents wild, and fierce, and unassuaged,
Fell on the listening ear, that forth I stray'd

Most thoughtful, and in solitary guise,

(For deep truths flash on contemplation's eyes,) To where the churchyard gloom'd in rayless shade:Impressive was the loneliness-in sooth,

My thoughts through pathless labyrinths did run ;

I sate, in darkness, on the grave of one
Whom í had dearly loved in early youth,

And there I mused, till from the turf mine eye
Did shape him out-even like reality !

THE NATIVE MELODY

Stanzas, supposed to be repeated by an Exile.
Once more, oh! turn, and touch the lyre,

And wake that wild impassion'd strain ;
I feel the delirating fire

Flash from my heart through every vein !
Yes ! every swell, and every word,
Strikes on a sympathetic chord,

And conjures up, with viewless wand,

My early days, my native land !
"Tis sweet, unutterably sweet,

Upon a far and foreign strand,
The play-mate of our youth to meet,

Fondly to press once more his hand;
His face to see, his voice to hear
Though always loved, now doubly dear,

And talk, with heart-felt ecstasy,

Upon the hours of years gone by!
Beloved country! when I lose

Remembrance of thy carrols wild,
Or hold companionship with those

By whom thy glory is reviled ;
Then be my despicable lot
Unloved-renownless—and forgot

To live, to die, to pass away

And mix with earth's neglected clay!
Oh! many a time, with many a tear

These native accents, breathing joy,
When Winter's hearth was blazing clear,

I sate, and listed, when a boy ;
And not amid the circle round,
Cold heart, or tearless eye was found :-

Ah! ne'er from inspiration fell

Tones hymn'd so sweet, or loved so well !
And can they be less welcome now,

Afar from all that blessed me, when
The heart was glad, unconscious how ?-

No! dear they are to me as then :
More soft beyond wild Ocean's roar :
More sweet upon a foreign shore :

And more melodious far when sung
Amid the tones of foreign tongue !

MOSCOW.

Written after the Invasion of Russia by the French. The day-star was retiring in the south Behind a ridge of clouds, as twilight fell Upon the banks of Moskwa. Silence reign'd Throughout the desolate city; save, by fits, As rose the crackling flames, or sunk the roofs, The ponderous roofs of buildings undermined; Or when the stayless element found its way To nether domes encaved, the magazines Of nitrous grain explosive, corn, and wine ; Or when the prison'd watch-dog madly howld, As near and nearer raged the swelling flame, Gņawing its chain in savage agony, Amid the torments of a lingering death.

Laden with darkness, now, the wings of night
Descending brooded; not a star above
The near horizon's dusky verge appear'd ;.
Wrapt in a shroud of blackness palpable,
Earth had its fires sufficient. Bright with flame,
Long streets consuming spread their glowing lines,
Tinting the mantled heavens with white intense ;
Next, dull and lurid crimson ; darkness last.-
Gazing upon the spectacle, there stood
Thousands, and tens of thousands. Female shrieks
And ruffian imprecations mingled there :
Between the luminous ruins and the eye,
The dusky groupes that clothed the narrow lanes,
Distinct, though distant, hurrying to and fro,
Struck on Imagination's wilder'd eye,
Like habitants of subterranean realms.
The startled steed glanced backward, as the flame
Smote on his eye-ball, ominous. Mothers stood,
Begirt with weeping daughters, at the doors
Of home, that yielded sanctuary no more ;
And, with dishevelled tresses, kneeling, pray'd
For clemency,-a disregarded boon!
And blew the winds of heaven, and flames and smoke,
Waved to and fro; and roofs and rafters sank,
And sparks were in the air, and blood on earth,
All that debases or degrades mankind,
Yea ! blood and cruelty, and guilt and woe,
Rapine and desolation, fear and death !!
Moscow ! resplendent city of the North !
Thou wert too fair a sight for mortal eye,
The diadem of landscapes beautiful !
What rapturous feelings struck the pilgrim's mind,
When, after traversing ignoble plains,
And tracks of rude and savage wilderness,
Tiptoe upon adjacent heights, he saw
The far extended grandeur of thy march,
Thy glittering palaces; thy thousand spires;
Thy massy domes, and balls of Aaming gold;
Nor lovely less thy winding terraces,
O'erhung with jasmine, flowering in the sun ;
Thy obelisks, as Parian marble pure ;
And roofs of azure, o'er whose slanting sides
The sculptured steeples stretch'd their taper lengths,
Piercing the dark-blue beauty of the sky,
And holding there a thousand crosses bright;
Like giants towering o'er the sons of men !
Moscow ! resplendent city of the North !
Moscow! thy hearths are tenantless, thy shrines
Ransack'd by rude and sacrilegious hands,
Thy glittering glory vanish'd like a dream !
Woe to thy sons and daughters ! woe to thee!
Against thee man and element combin'd,
Man, and the element of fire ! thy sons,
Thy resolute sons, have laid thee in the dust,
And strew'd thy reeking ashes to the winds !
They sought in thee a goal for their distress.
They found in thee a sepulchre. Thou wert
An offering on the shrine of Liberty,
A sacrifice for Europe for the world!
Eternal glory circle thee; thou art
A lesson to the realms of human kind.

д

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LETTER FROM DAVID HUME, ESQUIRE.

SIR,

47, George Street, 1st October, 1821. In your Magazine for February, 1818, ing to the Faculty of Advocates for (p. 495,) a correspondent of yours, redress. He found, however, that he was who subscribes D. Ì., has contradict- not to expect the support of the Dean ed, as utterly destitute of founda- of Faculty, and some other leading tion,” an anecdote related in Hardy's members of that body.

" I saw it Memoirs of Lord Charlemont, respect then,” says he, in this letter to Adam ing the generosity of David Hume, Smith, " impossible to succeed, and the historian, to' Dr Blacklock, the accordingly retracted my application : blind poet, in communicating to him but being equally unwilling to lose the the benefit of an office held by him use of the books, and to bear an indig(Mr Hume) under the University of nity, I retain the office, but have given Èdinburgh.

Blacklock, our blind poet, a bond of anIt is true, Lord Charlemont is inace nuity for the salary. I have now put it curate in some of the particulars. The out of the power of those gentlemen to office in question was that of Librarian offer me any indignity, while my moto the Faculty of Advocates; and Mr tives for remaining in the office are so Hume neither did, nor could transfer apparent. I should be glad that you the office itself to Dr Blacklock, but approve of my conduct. I own that I the salary only, which was L.40 a-year. am satisfied with myself.” Lord Charlemont had also been mis- In Mr Hume's account of his own informed in regard to the rapid, and life, he says, " In 1752, the Faculty somewhat romantic way, in which the of Advocates chose me their librarian, favour is related as having been con- an office from which I received little or ferred by Mr Hume. But the sub- no emolument, but which gave me the stance of the story-that Mr Hume did command of a large library.” He had receive this salary to the use of Dr wished to conceal, under these general Blacklock, and not to his own, I know expressions, the liberal way in which

I for certain to be true; for I had often he disposed of the emoluments of the heard it mentioned by Mr Hume's in- office. Allow me to add, that, in 1754, timate friends, Dr Blair, John Home, Mr Hume was by no means in affluent and Adam Smith. Though sure of circumstances; for he had then recentthe fact, I did not, however, wish ly published the first volume only of publicly to contradict your corresponde his history; and he held no appointdent's statement, in reliance on my ment, public or private, but this of liown recollection purely, though quite brarian to the Faculty of Advocates. distinct, of what those excellent per- I am persuaded, Sir, that you will sons had related to me. But t’other have satisfaction in correcting your corday, in the course of looking into some respondent's unintentional mis-stateletters of Mr Hume's, I hit upon evi- ment. It does not, indeed, relate to a dence of the fact, in Mr Hume's own matter of much importance; but the hand, in a letter to Adam Smith, da- anecdote serves to illustrate Mr Hume's ted, Edinburgh, 17th December, 1754. temper and dispositions; and, in that

Mr Hume, it appears, had a contro- view, it may be not entirely without versy at that time with the curators of interest. Besides, the public attention the Advocates' Library, respecting cere has already been called to the

incident, tain books which he had bought for both in Lord Charlemont's Memoirs, the library, and which the curators and in your Magazine; and it will, had ordered to be expunged from the therefore, be as well that the circumcatalogue, and removed from the stances should be stated correctly. shelves, as licentious, and unworthy I am, Sir, of a place in the library of so grave and

Your very obedient so learned a body. It also appears,

And most faithful servant, that Mr Hume had considered himself

David HUME. as not very handsomely treated by the curators on that occasion; and that The Editor of Blackwoo's Magazine. he had entertained a purpose of apply

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GOD SAVE THE KING !

Vox Populi. The King's Birth-Dayin Edinburgh to celebrate the royal birth in the was one of unusual festivity. Every undisturbed retirement of a publicschool had the play on this momentous house, the termination of which cele day; and long before the 4th of June, bration often ends in a commitment the mimic cannon were put in order, to the Police-Office-Bridewell the ammunition laid in, and storeof squibs, loss of character and confirmed den crackers, sky-rockets, Roman candles, pravity. and fire-wheels, were prepared for the Those who were fathers twenty-five joyous demonstration of boyish loyal- years ago, will recollect the joy which ty. For weeks before, the only talk beamed in the eyes of the boys relieved among the boys was of powder and from the tasks of the school for the powder-horns; and the chief occupa- momentous day, and the delighted tion preparing match-paper, and ar- preparations that were made to ceranging the details of the bonfire, lebrate this happy anniversary; the and the dress of Johnny Wilkes, which demand for money to replenish the personage has had the honour of being powder-horn; the array of cannon; hung and burnt in effigy once a-year and the anxious request to be awain Edinburgh, ever since I remember. kened “exactly at one o'clock.” When Boughs of trees and flowers were also the day was within a few hours, their provided on the preceding day, in spite little eyes sparkled with gladness at of the annual proclamation of the ma- the idea of pleasure to come, and it gistrates, and the care of the proprie- seemed an age till the moment arrived tors of shrubberies in the vicinity; when it was necessary to light the fire, and birch and laurel were in particular and usher in the day with the mimic demand to busk the wall, at the bot- thunder of their little artillery.tom of which was the delightful fire. “Mamma ! will Betty give us a backet

The King's Birth-days to which I of coals ?”—“Jenny, mind waken me allude, it is necessary to mention, were first !”- -“ Papa, I winna set aff the those which were celebrated previous crackers till you are up;" and a thouto the city of Edinburgh having, or sand demands and expressions of a requiring to have, a regular police. similar nature, made even the old Since

the period of that establishment, participate in what gave so much plea- , the officers of which make little or no sure to the young. I myself recollect distinction between merriment and of making the fruitless request to be mischief, bonfires are not allowed, and allowed to sit up; have gone to bed the firing of squibs and cannon is for three hours to toss and tumble prohibited ; joy and gladness are re- in feverish anxiety, till the dawn of duced to mere sentiment; and, how- day shewed it was time to light the ever hopeless the experiment, it is · fire, and decorate my cap with laurels; attempted, by these worthy protectors and I have known others go to bed at of the public peace, to pit auld heads an earlier hour, not to deprive nature on young shouthers, in spite of nature, of her accustomed rest, with the inefand to make youthful limbs move with fectual wish to shorten the intervening the tottering regularity of fourscore. period in the forgetfulness of sleep. That this has hitherto never fully But to the excited imagination, nothing succeeded, I am not sorry; and when short of enjoyment can bring again the takinga walk ina modern King's Birth- calm of ordinary and every-day life; day morning, I do regret the paucity and the night preceding the King's of the fires, and their stinted orna- Birth-day was generally a sleepless one ments--and in the evening to meet so to most

of the schoolboys of Edinmany idle apprentices, whom this sys- burgh. Days of my boyhood ! I look tem has driven from the cheerful fire, back to your enjoyments with comand the enlivening noise of cannon, placency, and almost with regret !