The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1835-09-04 00:00:00

COYTEMPORARF PRESS.

The reduction of the duty on flint glass will prove
highly beneficial to the manufacturers of Worcestershire
and Staffordshire. We have reason to believe that the
parties who enjoy the benefit will be in no small degree
indebted for it to the exertions of Mr. Hawkes. the mem-
her for Dudley,'who has spared no pains in impressing
upon the government the date of ruin with which the
glass trade was threatened.
This elegant and once flourishing branch of manufac-
tures was so rapidly declining in the hands of the fair
and honest trader, owing, to the nature and amount of the
excise duties, that he would soon have been compelled to
concede it altogether to the smuggler. It is a* known
fact that at the present moment there are no less than
from sixty to one hundred illicit glass-blowers' establish-
ments working in the cellars in LOndon, and others in
every large town in the kingdom in the same proportion.
It is also equally notorious that from the nature of the
manufacture, no considerable duty can be levid on it; 'a
fact proved by the frequent detections of the smuggler
without any diminution of his general operations.
The first evil arising from this state of a fiscal law is
the injury which it inflicts upon the honest and the boun-
ty which it holds out to .the dishonest portion of the com-
munity. A heavy wrong is•thereby done to individuals,
and the standard of public morals is depreciated by act of
parliament. The second evil results from its effect upon
the national interests in a commercial sense. In the'
hands of the illicit artist it is self-evident that so beautiful
and delicate an art=for it is 'an art in some of its bran Ches
of the very highest order—must of necessity become de-
teriorated. He cannot exercise his ingenuity in a right
direction,and the enterprise which in a lawful calling
Would be employed in the extension of this
.market is
hestoWed upon'his struggle with the law. In the mean-
time the foreigner, free frOm the burden and restraint of
expensive and severe excise regulations, as also from the
competition of the smuggler at home, not only rivals us
in the general markets of the world, but actually out-
strips us in our own. It is a fact that the celebrated op-
ticiuon Mr. Dolland is at this time compelled to obtain his
glass for achromatic purposes from abroad. The French,
the AmeriCans, and other nations, have been rapidly in-
creasing their exports' of this important manufacture to
markets which Great Britain once exclusively supplied. .
It is to cases like this that the, principles of free trade
should be applied, where the temporary'sacrifice of reve-
nue is to foster British interests and ultimately to in-
crease the stock of British wealth through the channels
of British commercial supremacy. Then, indeet4 those
principles are the arced of the patriot and the true phi-
losophy of the wise,—Worcester Guardian.

• FEMALE FASHIONS FOR SEPTEMBER..
MORNING DRESSES.—The excessive warmth of last
month prevented, during the middle of the day, a full dis-.
play of elegance and fashion; in the cool twilight only
could we catch glimpses of fair forms reclining in their
open carriages, or courting the western breeze on horse-
back. September, therefore, commences with peculiar,
attraction; and we can promise to lay before our vota--
ries a seducing assemblage of novelty 'and good taste.
The tout envemble of costume, perhaps, has not changed,
but in many details we observe a nearer approach to the
antique style than has ever been attempted ; truly, how-
ever, may it be said, that the hoop is worn on the arm;
and gives an equal effect of slenderness to the waist, and
roundness to the corsage, as before its present promo-
tions; an inconvenience sometimes arises from the capes
or pelerine being injured by this extreme fulness, and
several morning dresses have appeared with that appen-
dage placed like evening drapery across the bust; trim•
med very full„ leaving the corsage alone quite plain ; but
the Usual mode still prevails, and thetobjection is obvi-
ated by cutting the pelerine very deep on the shoulders,
and throwing the fulness of the sleeve off towards the,
arm; flounces are gaining favour ; muslin dresses are
frequently ornamented with them, a coloured ribbon
being passed through a broad hem at the edge; in fuller
dresses, they are worn of lace and blond, and as autumn
advances, we doubt not that silk will be trimmed with
black lace; wrapping fronts are not so prevalent as they ,
were last month ; they do not suit the cape or mantilla
which this season requires; narrow cuffs are usually seen
to long sleeves, but a few are still worn high and
pointed.
EVENING COSTUME.—The few occasions on which full
dress will be required daring the present month are
likely to display a Tepetition of the last modes. Variety
is sought anl found in those simple fascinating costumes
prepared for the social re-unions of the great and fait in
their country dwellings. White prevails so generally,
that every style of ornament seems adapted to it. The
graceful blond mantilla, lined with coloured sarsenet;
black lace scarfs and draperies; beautiful and gay French
ribbons, all contribute to heighten the charm of a white
dress, made, as we have noticed, of extreme fulness; short
sleeves (sometimes ruffles) or a full long sleeve over short
satin sabots. The corsage half high, and open, a cherni-
vette ala verge. For dinner dresses, the wrapping cor-
sage still remains in favour, and is very becoming to a
fine shape ; it admits, however, of no mantilla, cape, or
any drapery over it; on the shoulders the fulness should
be drawn down by narrow bands, and the front part edged
with lace. The Sevigne corsage prevails for foulard and
satin dresses, a lace drapery crossing from each shoulder,
and forming a point in the centre otthe bosom. The
Grecian corsage is much in. request; it forms in three
divisions in front, widening towards the bust, and again.
expands at the girdle; each division is stiffened, and the
effect is like armour. A hat should be worn with this
style of dress, and short sleeves are most appropriate.
Scotch plaid silks will continue to be worn in half dress;
the cheques of moderate size, and trimmed with ribbon
corresponding in colour to the prevailing tint ;, a lace
mantilla, or cape, softens the effect, and is sufficient orna-
rrwnt. As dinner costumes, these dresses look best with
a coiffure en cheveux.

GENERAL AGRICULTURAL REPORT.
We take the following from "The Irish Farmer's and
Gardener's Magazine," a very useful and well conducted
publication, devoted exclusively to rural affairs.
The wheats in many counties in England have not proved
near so productive as was anticipated by the growers; but, as
the weather has been favourable for their harvesting, a fair sam-
ple will be obtained, except where the crops have been laid,
and of such there has been a very large extent, especially in
fertile soils. This deficiency of crop is attributable to three
causes-Ist, The constant chill from the continuation of rains
during the winter; 2d, the harshness of the spring; and, 3d,
from the unfavourable season when the plants were in blossom.
In the first instance, many plants perished on the land or were
destroyed by slugs ; and in clover leys especially this enemy,
was very busy. Some farmers have sowed such fields with salt
at the rate of ten bushels to the acre before ploughing the land,
and the peed about a mouth afterwards, and found the destruc-
tion from the wire-worm and slug much less on those parts
salted. It appears, however, on good land, not sown too thick,
the straw has been sufficiently -strong to stand, and in such
cases the crops are excellent. Even on light and and soils
barley is a fair crop and of good quality, although short of
straw ; but oats are thin and light, and likely to tall short of an
average produce. The season for beans throughout has been
very productive to their growth and podding, and a large return
may be expected even on lands not of the best quality. Peas
have .podded well, and are well got in, and many hells on which
they have grown are now under a crop of turnips.
The prices of wheat, notwithstanding the moderate produce
that is anticipated, have declined, which is most disheartening
to the growers ; and, should•they not advance, serious evils must
follow the agricultural interests of the empire. Wheat is the
principal remunerating crop cultivated; and not less than six
shillings a bushel will pat- the British farmer, and it is now less
than five! The crops of clover and -grass may be considered
good, generally sown on light soils, or on.lands not shut up too
late in the spring for this purpose; and this is an error too ge-
nerally falten into, especially in Ireland. In order to secure
good mowing grass, the land should be shut tip as soon as the
herbage begins to grow, as in the event of a dry spring following.
should it be fed too late, the land would not be sufficieirtly co-
vered to resist drought, nor to be benefited by the dews; be-
sides,-early cutting will instne good aftergrass, which, if judi-
diciously fed off by Shilep, will keep the land in good, condition.
In Ireland, the crops of every,description are abundant, and
are expected to prove of good quality. The crops of potatoes
are most lusnriant, but it is apprehended will run too much to
stalks in wet soil, which will be likely to diminish their produce
and quality; but even if this should be the case, we shall anti-
cipate an excellent poor-man's harvest. Mantel wurzel is well
cultivated, and its vaiue beginning to be more generally appre-
ciated ; but we regret to say that bwedea and the Norfolk turnip
are but partially sown ; where they have been cultivated, how.
ever, these crops have succeeded even beyond expec.ation.
Cattle and sheep maintain a fair price ; and wool, although
somewhat lower than last year, is not likely to fall to a price of
which the farmer would have just reason to complain. It is to
be regretted that so good prospects cannot be anticipated in the
corn trade. Summer fellows are much exploded since the in-
troduction of red clover crops; and it is now generally admitted,
even by the working class of farmers, to be a better and more
profitable system. The shameful neglect of allowing the crop
to be overgrown with weeds is enough to counteract the benefits
to be derived even from the most judicious introduction of green
crops.

SUBSTITUTE FOR STEAM.
The following plan has been addressed by Mr. John Galt to
the editor of the Greenock Advertiser :
"The fatal explosion of the Earl Grey steamer at the quay
has induced me to try if the principle of my pressure syphon,
of which you had the goodness to insert some notice, could he
applied to propel vessels, arid the result has been so perfectly
satisfactory, that 1 find myself actuated by humanity to make it
public, that others tray test the experiment, the simplicity of
which is not the least of its merits, viz.:—
"Take a cylinder and subjoin to the bottom of it, in commu-
nication, a pipe—fill the pipe and the cylinder with water—in
the cylinder place a piston as in that orthe steam-engine, and
then with a Bramah's press, and a simple obvious contrivance
which the process will suggest, force the Water up the pipe, the
pressure of which will raise the piston. This is the demonstra-
tion of the first motion.

"Second—When the piston is raised, open a cock to dis-
charge the water, and the p;ston will descend.
"'Phis is the demonstration of the second motion, and is as
complete as the motion of the piston in the cylinder of the
steam-engine, and a power is attained as eaeoually as seam,
Without risk of explosion, without the cost of fuel, capable of
being applied to any purpose in which steam is used; and ID an
immeasurable extent. The preservation of the water may, iii
some cases, be useful, and this may be done by a simple con-
trivance, viz., by making the cock discharge into a conductor,
by which the water may he conveyed back at every stroke of
the piston into the pipe, at the end of which the Bramah's press
acts.

My condition does not allow me to do more than to solicit
that the experiment may be tested. Although no mechanic, 1
yet believe mysglf mechanician. eough to see the application
of the principle."

TtrE MAGAZINES FOR SEPTEMBER

(FROM BLACKWOOD.)

Never was there so self-conceited an old prig. H ear how he
prates away to himself in the preface—'• The MODERN DUN-
CIA D. VIRGIL IN hIKIIDON, AND THE TIFIES, are again pre-
sented to the public, wan such revision as the author's most care-
ful attention could bestow upon them. Their original reception
was highly gratifying, They had the good fortune to be ap-
proved by many of the best judges, and censured by some of the
worst. An extensive sale justified the favourable opinion of the
Critics, and afforded the author an opportunity, in subsequent
editions, of showing the dunces how little he was moved by
their abuse, and how much he despised it." And who are the
dunces?

" With this reply be satisfied at once,
While BowLEs exists, can satire want a dance ?"

" It would be a work of no small labour and little profit to
wade through the various productions of the Rev. William Lisle
'Bowles. Odes, epics, and sonnets innumerable, pass in long
review." "We read of oue John Taylor, the water-poet; Mr.
Bowles may be christened the sky-blue, or milk-and-water poet."
Some twenty years ago, it was the fashion with fools, and• with
fools and something more, to affect contempt for the genius of
this delightful poet, and the author of the Dunciad yelped like
other curs. But all that folly and worse than folly has long
been at an end, and the name of William Lisle Bowles is neYer
mentioned but with respect and admiration. This the old deaf
and blind mongrel knows not, and, last of all the pack, keeps
still snapping at what he supposes to be the heels of the excel-
lent prebendary of Salisbury, tut is merely a phantom of hy-
drophobia.
Who is the next dunce?

" F. To SCOTT you'll grant some portion of renown ;
The man has pleased,
P. And surfeited the town."
Dunce third ?
The town is pleased when Byron will rehearse,
And finds a thousand beauties in his verse;
So fixed his fame, that write whate'er he will,
The patient public must admire it still;
Yes, though bereft of half his force and fire,
They still must read, and'diaing must admire;
While you and I, who stick to common-sense,
To genius, taste, and wit have no pretence.
Throughout the whole, we toil to understand;
Where'er we tread, 'tis strange, 'tis foreign land ;
Nay, half the thoughts and language of the strain
Require a glossary to slake them

Scott and Byron, however, it is allowed, have their merits.
And neither gr. Coleridge nor Mr. WorilsWorth, in Nestor's
opinion, are so popular as they deserve to be—for "'it is the
singular perverseness of those authors to provoke ridicule when
they might command applause." Such judgments, originally
del►vered in the year 1815, are republished for the behoof of a
new generation in 1835—and it is added, that "the Excursion
will hand down Mr. Wordsworth's name with credit to pos,
terity." "Mr. Campbell has written sufficient to make its re-
gret that he does not oftener appear before the public,"—but in
sp►te of all that, " this is not the Augustan age of *try." So
drivelled "Virgil. in London" twenty years ago—and so drivel's
be now in a sixth edition not a'month old.
- Bugbear bim on Bloomfield and Burns.
So long as nature in her simplest guise,
And virtuous sensibility we prize,
Of well-earned fame. no poet shall enjoy
A purer tribute than the " Farmer's Boy."
Irail to departed ►worth ! All Scotland turns,
With tardy hands, to raise the tomb of Burns. .
Ah ! spare the fame such frail memorials give,
Icthis own works enshrined the bard shall live.
Of humble birth, but with a taste' refined,
An adverse fortune, with a God-like mind,
He silent bore, but keenly felt the smart,
Till bitter disappointment broke his hoart.
Ot► ! when released, his ardent spirit fled,
How envy smiled ! how virtue mourned the dead!
And Scotland's bills heard every tongue proclaim
The minstrel's glory and his country's shame.
Then, with the poet's fate inscribe his bust,
In life neglected, canonized in dust."
• - •

Now for the notes to this powerful passage. " Scotland is
about erect .a monument to the memory of Burns. Let her
not fail to inscribe upon it how nobly she rewarded his talents.
She took him from the plough; received the grateful homage of
his genius; made him—an exciseman! irritated his mind with
indignities and disappointments, and gave him up to an un-
timely grave! The lively sallies of the Ayrshire bard startled
the plodding dulness of his insensible countrymen ; the be-
sotted bigots of modern Athens beheld, with an evil eye, a poet
who exposed their vices, ridiculed their superstitions, and de-
spised their ignorance. It is true that some kindred spirits
stood forward as the friends of genius in distress, but what could
the exertions of a few generous individuals do in opposition to
the combined malignity of fools in power? Scotland has much
to answer for. Avarice bribed her to sell her king.
' I should have died for shame,
To see my king before his subjects stand,
And at the bar hold up his royal hand.'
Fanatical rage compelled her to m,urder her archbishop, and
base parsimony (read the hard fate of the author of Douglas,
Fergusson, &c.) to starve' her poets. Who was the liberal pa-
tron of Sir Walter Scott ? England! Who ruined him ? lis
kind countrymen, the Scotch." I'he superannuated idiot has
here, with a vivacity uncommon in a Cockney with all his four
feet in the gra've, contrived to cram into an epitome of the sins
of Scotland a greater number Of foolish lies than we should
have supposed a memory so enfeebled as his capable of supply-
ing, as its last food to a heart, in extreme decrepitude, kept
half alive by its own malice. We think we see the paralytic
wretch, with his rheumy eyes and palsied fingers, and tongue
all the while essaying in vain to lick up the slaver that befouls,
without refreshing his shrivelled lips, engaged, in composition!
"We are reminded throughout of the undaunted bard of
Twickenham."

We have offended you—gentle reader,--and beg pardon on
our knees. Suppose, then, old Virgil in London dead and
buried, . .

And at his feet a green grass turf,
• And at his head a stone."
What have you to say against Scotland? Not a syllable. 'Tis
well for you that you have not—for Barry Cornwall's back is
yet one perfect blister. - Scotland has erected no fewer than
three monuments to Burns—one in Dumfries—one near Al-
loway Kirk—and one in
,Edinburgh. Shakspeare's tomb is
dilapidated in Stratford-on-Avon,,and the club soliciting sub-
scriptions for its repair. So much for England. Scotland did
not take Burns from the plough—nor did she make him an ex-
ciseman—any more than England made Wordsworth a distri-
butor of stamps. She admired his genius—bought his poems—
and he stocked a farm. That he became bankrupt was not the
fault of Scotland. She did not make Mossgiel—" God made
the country"—and it pleased Him to give her a poor soil—but
nobler riches. Burns mismanaged his farm. fie has himself
told us so, and he ever spake the truth. Of his. infirmities let
no man speak but with awe—" nor draw his frailties from their
dread abode"—but let no man sacrifice—even for sake of her
greatest poet—the character of his country. His disappoint-
ments were many, his indignities not few—but 'tis a monstrous
lie to say " that Scotland irritated his mind with indignities,
and gave him up to an untimely grave." Gently—compassion-
ately—and with many a salvo " which the poor inhabitant be-
low" made not fur himself, all men read his epitaph—" because
that we have all one human heart." Thousands and tens of
thousands, who sinned far inure grievously than he, seemed far
less grievously to suffer. But that is the mystery never to be
solved beneath the skies—and that will for ever .:arken the
whole world.

But let us break on', and for relief listen to the old idiot. Hear
him " hoastin" over the "plodding dullness of the insensible
countrymen" of Robert Barns. Why, Robbie was but the
brightest among the bright—" all the people quaked like dew
stirred by the breeze" at sound of his lyre—his home was from
the first in the nation's heart. Of whom did he sing ? Of his
countrymen, and of them only—and his songs—all the world
declares—were worthy of the race. So declares, louder than
the rest, the noblest land in all the world—England. She loves
Scotland better now than it ever could have been in the power
even of her generous spirit to love it—believing in the truth of
that Scripture written by an inspired peasant—The Cottar's
Saturday Night.
Ebenezer Elliot, proud of being the poet of' the poor, disdains
the praises of those ignorant persons who would represent him
as a miracle of genius among the ungifted Sheffield mechanics,
toiling as he long toiled for their daily bread. Many of them
in all mental powers he rejoices to know are his equals—his su-
periors—and 'tis a noble creed. That he has done what no one
else has done proves not the noble creed to be false--and Burns
in his own case would have sworn it true. Such bards are not
born—nor are they bred—wherever their lot may have been
cast—among "the plodding dulness of their insensible country-
men," but in the midst of kindred spirits whom they recognise
as brethren in all things—and whom they love not and honour
not the less, but more dearly and highly far, because it has
pleased Heaven that their own souls should have burned within
them at the touch of some stronger inspiration, and burst forth
in music—the joys and sorrows, the trouble and the peace of
their own condition on earth the sacred subject—the hallowed
burden of their song.

" The besotted bigots of 'modern Athens beheld," qiiod the
dotard, " with an evil eye a poet who exposed their vices, ridi-
culed their superstition, and despised their ignorance.'" Alas !
the worst of their vices'were those to which• poor Burns was him-
self- but too prone—so far from exposing he partook of them,
and enlisted his genius in their service. We speak of his worser
hours; but. they were, we believe, few in comparison with the
good=and the best society in Edinburgh at that time—to which
Burns had welcome access—was equal to any in the world.
The old fool maunders about besotted, superstitions,. and igno-
rant bigots whom Burns exposed, ridiculed, and despised; but
Bolus isitnself, in spite of all his disappointments which in after
life often •embittered his recollections of Edinburgh,. never
ceased to venerate the genius and virtue for which it was
illustrious, and would have trodden such libels and such libellers
under the dirt. But though there were Cockneys in those days,
they had not begun to jargon about Scotland. What have they
got for their pains. now that they have taken upon themselves
to intermeddle with our home affairs? On an average each
mother's son forty stripes.

" Sciitland," says Swipes, " has much to answer for." At
the great day of judgment—and so has the whole human race.
According to the creed of some Christian sects, even Cockneys
will be then called to account. We cannot think so,- and there-
fore they should he cruelly punished in this life. Did we know
where to catch him; we would tar and feather the author of the
Douriad, and send him to the poultry even in his 104th year.
Such punishment is not only defensible but imperiously de-
manded, on the supposition of there being for the race to which
he belongs no future state.
" Avarice bribed her to sell her king"—
and he clenches the charge with a most apt quotation—
" I should have died' for shame
To seems, king beff;re his subjects stand,
And at the bar hold up his royal hand."
Not a creature out of Cockaigne believes now in' that flfty-time's
refuted calumny ;
.but though Charles was not sold he was mur-
dered. At his execution a few. women miscarried—but no
Cockney " died ofshame"—indeed shame is a passion of which
no Cockney has any idea,—.for it is "the sorrow of pride"—and
pride being the sin by which angels fell, it would be impious to
expect it at Vanity-fair in the very heart of Little Britain.
! That " fanatical rage impelled her to murder her arch-
bishop" may be partly true; but her archbishop had no busi-
ness there—would have been much better ethployed in England
—and he met, we are disposed to think, not much more than
his deserts on Magus Muir. Scotland resOlved to have her own
way in religion, and in establiihing it did not stick at trifles.
England acted much in the same spirit, and assassinations-of
the same sort are found by_no means thinly sprinkled on the
page of her history—yet the Liiglisis are a maenauimous people,'
zealous of good works. In''Scotland the Reformation was ef-
fected by high hearts and high hands—and completed the
Covenanters. First fell the power of the• Papacy roof and
branch—and then Episcopacy went to the ground. So willed
the people—the people of Scotland—and now, to ! Presbytery
spread like a green bay tree. Both nations have had their' will
—and both new worship God in spirit and in truth. The slave
whom we have been chastising understands nothing of this—has

no sympathy with a nation of pious freemen.--;but blubbers
about an archbishop. . ffear the ratiff!
" Down with your sacred altars ! useless blocks!
Detested relics ! even vindictive Knox
Shall rise from hell'i dark caves with furious joy,
And breathe again his spirit to destroy."
Pray, who told the author of the Modern Dunciad that John
Knox is in hell ? He ought to produce his authority for an as-
sertion so injurious to the memory. of our great Scottish re-
-former. Our'Cockney has queer notions of hell. He talks as
if it were-as easy "to rise from hell's dark caves" as to go to
Tunbridge Well's. Doctor Johnson said more good things than
any other man—and a few bad ones. .The few bad ones have
been so often quoted by Cockneys that they stink in the nostrils
of men. Take for example this fetid note--" Doctor Johnson,
hearing the question asked where the cruel fanatic John Knox
was buried, exclaimed—' I hope in a cross-road.'" We do *not
donbt he said so—his spleen having been disturbed by some im-
pertinent prater, whom he thus growled into silence by savage
nonsense. Our Cockney believes the great English sage was
serious; and over a dish of saloop sends the suicide to Old
Nick. The ninny.
" Base parsimony (read the hard fate of the author of
Dongias, Fergusson, &c.) impelled her to starve her poets.
Who was the liberal patron of Sir Walter Scott? England.
Who ruined him ? His kind countrymen the Scotch." For a
country like Scotland,

" Where half-starvefl spiders fed on half-starved flies,"
there was some excuse to be-offered if she did starve her poets.
She was compelled to do so—it is pleasant -to know—not by
'base parsimony but sternmecessity—sheer want. But tbatplea
will not avail t ngland. It appears too from historical docu-
ments, as well as the voice of tradition, that Scotland did not
starve her poets more than the rest of her population. The
people—peets and painters included—lived low. A handful of
oatmeal mixed with water from the spring was a dinner for a
raw-honed Scotsman who would have thought nothing of taking
twenty such Cockneys as the author of the Modern Dunciad,
one after the other, by the scruff of the neck, and-cracking
them between his thumb-nails like more familiar vermin. This
may be starvation—but it is impartial and universal starvation
—and the poets of Scotland had no reason to complain that.
they alone had no butter to their bruse. We speak of the olden
time. But even in these latter days no Scottish poet has died
of hunger. Whereas, it is but too true that aborit a third of the
English poets have perished of that vacuum which nature most
abhors. With all the unclosed eyes df those ghastly corpes
staring him in the face, the author of the Dunciad keeps scold.
ing away at Scotland fur having starved her poets, not one of
whom was ever in want of a sheep's head. He sees the famished
Otway choked by the first morsel of that fatal roll—he tells us,
that of the life of Philip Messinger little or nothing is known,
beyond the melancholy fact. that he was a literary wayfarer,
eking out a penurious existence in humble obscurity, and that
his transcendent genius, which must command the admiration
of the latest posterity, could not save bun from a gaol"—over
the fate of Chatterton he sheds many maudlin tears—and of the
" Farmer's Buy," he says—" the neglect, suffering, and dis-
tress that darkened the declining years of Robert Bloomfield,
are too mournful to dwell upon. I saw him a few months be-
fore his death, emaciated by disease, embarrassed in his cir--
cumstances, and heart-broken"—yet from these and many
other instances of 'strict starvation, he turns aside, Without one
word of reproach to England, and launches the lightning 'of
his wrath on Scotland, whom " base parsimony impelled to
starve her poets." " Read," wroth he, the hard fate of the
author of Douglas." Why, John Home was clothed in fine
linen—wore a scarlet coat—inhabited a large house, with a
front door, a bell, and a knocker—and fared sumptuously every
day—till death overcame him like a summer cloud.when he was
upwards of fourscore. Poor Fergusson, again, died verryoung
in a madhouse. • Reckless diSsipatiou crazed his brain—and
charity enabled his mother to send him to such•sad asylum. No
Scottish poet teas ever in ajail.