published, his travels will form a very entertaining

volume.

No man ever had in his composition more of the milk of human kindness, even to the brute creation; (this is an odd exprefsion;) and if there be in their nature such things as memory and gratitude, many a half starved swine in the Highlands is to this day thankful for his benefits.

He danced with much life and spirit, and it was difficult to discover that he had no taste for music, as he seemed to listen to every air or tune with as much attention as any connoifseur beyond the Alps. Mifs Macdonald obliged us one evening by playing a few airs upon the piano forté. He placed himself beside her, looked with complacency, and smiled with the most imposing appearance of satisfaction. I asked him when we went to bed what he had been thinking of at this time. He confefsed that he had been trying to count the motions of her fingers.

As he thought there was as much merit in saying an extremely silly thing, as a very good one, his frequent attempts at this sort of wit would have made him look very ridiculous, had he not been careful of venturing at it only where he was well acquainted. He was much flattered by an old lady saying that none but a very sensible man could speak so much agreeable nonsense.

I recommended to Mr Maclean to try a crop of spring wheat, as is done in Norfolk, upon a field of a dry gravelly soil, which was partly cleared from the turnips. He said he would do so, but for the

crows, who would entirely eat up the seed. "What? (replied my friend,) are not they afraid of the booting of the turnips?"

He alarmed us greatly one morning at breakfast, by telling us that an old man in the village had that day committed sowicide. He had more to say about it, but aweak nerved lady being nigh fainting at mention of the horrid deed, he relieved her by saying he had been only killing a sow.

At the end of three weeks that Coll's hospitality detained us, with heavy hearts we bid an eternal farewell to him and all his people. With great pleasure fhall I ever remember the happy days I spent upon his island, and the chearful evenings at his fireside; when every mind was unbent, when a smile dwelt on every cheek, and joy sparkled in every eye enlivened by the vivacity of my droll companion.

To be continued.

W. E.

READING MEMORANDUMS.

FRIENDSHIP is the most noble and generous pafsion of the soul; and adversity the furnace in which it may be tried. Never doubt their sincerity who did not forsake you when encompassed bymisfortunes.

It is cruel to suspect the whole of Nature's family for the fault of an individual.

TO THE SNOW DROP.

THOU who to heaven lifting thy golden brow,
Ey'st, unabash'd, the glorious orb of day,
I praise thee not: I hate th' unblushing front!
But ever let me tell your humbler worth,
Ye simple snow drops! firstlings of the year!
Fairest of flow'rs! sweet harbingers of spring!
How meekly do you hang your silv'ry heads!
Like maidens coyly stealing from the view:
E'en so, upon the ground, her modest eye
That fears to meet th' irrev'rent gaze of man,
Beauty unconscious bends :-And so, more pure
Than are your snow white forms, Sophia strives

To hide those charms, how matchlefs! from the world.

P. H.

ON INDOLENCE.

[Addrefsed to our modern fine gentlemen.]

THE gracious Master of mankind,
Who knew us vain, and weak, and blind,
In mercy, tho' in anger, said,

That man should earn his daily bread.
Who counteracts the order given,
Disputes the high behest of heaven.
Poor FLORIO at the ardent age`
When youth should rush on glory's stage;
When life should open fresh and fair,
And hope advance with smiling air,
Of youthful gaiety bereft,

Had scarce an unbroach'd pleasure left!

He found already to his cost,

The shining glofs of life was lost;

And pleasure was so coy a prude,

She fled the more, the more pursued.

But FLORIO knew the WORLD, that science

Set sense and learning at defiance;

He thought the world to him was known,
Whereas he only knew the town.
In men this blunder still you find,
All think their little set-mankind.

His mornings were not spent in vice
'Twas lounging, saunt'ring, eating ice:
Walk up and down from street to street,
Full fifty times the youth you'd meet;
He hated cards, detested drinking,
But stroll'd to fhun the toil of thinking:
'Twas doing nothing was his curse;
Is there a vice can plague us worse?
The wretch who digs the mine for bread,
Or ploughs that others may be fed,
Feels lefs fatigue than that decreed
To him who cannot think or read.

Not all the struggle of temptation,
Not all the furious war of pafsion,
Can quench the spark of glory's flame,
Or blot out virtue's very name,
Like the true taste for genuine saunter;
No rival pafsion can supplant her!
They rule in fhort and quick succession,
But SLOTH keeps one long fast possession;
AMBITION's reign is quickly closed,
Th' usurper's RAGE is soon depos'd;
INTEMP'RANCE, where there's no temptation,
Makes voluntary abdication;

Of other tyrants fhort's the strife,
But INDOLENCE is king for life.

SONNET.

WHEN time first pointed out to rip'ning age
The path to fortune, and fair virtue's meed.
When classic the'ry urg'd to glorious deed,
And fir'd the youthful seed with mortal rage,
Holding examples bright from ancient page;

How have I glow'd Achilles' feats to read!
Eager I grasp'd the sword!-I long'd to bleed!
Deluded youth! by sad experience sage,

Too late I prov'd that 'twas not conduct bright,
That led to wealth or fame,-but flatt'ring wiles;
Not toil, nor courage, bleeding in the fight,
But the smooth tongue, and cringing courtly smiles.
Such was of old, that fam'd Ulysses height,
Wisest of mortals whom old Homer stiles.

BIOGRAPHICAL CATALOGUE OF EMINENT SCOTTISH ARTISTS.

For the Bee,

Continued from p. 143.

John Brown.

With a protrait.

HAVING opened my catalogue with George Jamesone, the prince of Scottish painters, I now proceed to John Brown, the prince of Scottish delineators, who needed nothing to have rendered him an admirable painter, save a greater confidence in his own abilities, and a lefs exquisite sense of those of others.

He was the son of Samuel Brown, goldsmith and watchmaker in Edinburgh, by a worthy mother, whom in his appearance he greatly resembled, and was born at Edinburgh in the year 1752.

On his education his worthy parents spared no expence within the compass of their abilities.

It is the glory and happiness of the Scotch to considèr every consideration of a domestic nature as inferior and subordinate to a pious, virtuous, and intelligent education to their children. Long may it continue! for it is the Magna Charta of the Land of Cakes. And may it continue in union with integrity and simplicity of manners, which are the fruitful parents of genius and patriotism!

In the course of his education at Edinburgh, he contracted an intimate acquaintance with David Erfkine, a son of Thomas Erskine of Cambo, who was the uncle of that celebrated prelate and lawyer at Rome, Charles Erskine of the Rota, well known by his learning and taste, and by his attachment to the fine arts of music and painting.