56 netted £700. I am going to a subscription one at a fine old unoccupied country-seat in this vicinity, where all the beauty of the North Quarter is to be assembled. I may perhaps open my letter again to put in a whisper as to who was the prettiest Apropos of and what was the handsomest dress. fashion and dress-I should forget half of my commission were I not to tell you what I was assured was the very latest news in that way from the Metropolis, by a charming lady I met with, who has just returned from town. I transcribe my notes -taken, in your presented copy of the Souvenir, upon the spot. Here they are:-" On the newest visiting cards a cloud is engraved, upon which the name appears in white letters;-the card-racks of a Merveilleuse are formed of seven butterflies painted and varnished ;—and, at a ball lately given by a fohad a poniard set with reigner of distinction, Countess C stones at her girdle!" She also tells me that we are shortly to have in Glasgow an Arcade-or covered-in Bazaar of fancy articles, on the plan of the Burlington and Soho-Square ones of London. It is to have a handsome front where the Messrs. Reid's warehouse is in Argyle-Street, and, extending backwards and laterally through their property in the form of the letter Here L, have another opening into Buchanan-Street. every pretty little thing which is not needed, and many useful things which are, will be exposed for sale-chiefly by fair boothkeepers, at least such will be expected by every one who has seen the reserved and modest demeanour, and pretty morning dresses of the females so employed in London, and who reflects for a moment on the usurpation that prevails among men of so many of the light and genteel employments, which in their very nature are fitted for the other sex, hundreds of whom in this city injure their health by sedentary industry, or pine away in solitude upon a pittance which such employments would increase. I had better conclude in this amiable style, and then you'll allow me to be-your dear coz. C. H. P. S.-Tell Tom that he will find, in the Scotsman of Saturday last, mention made of the works of two friends of his, the one connected with Glasgow and the other with Stirling, which are in the exhibition of the works of living artists, now open in Edinburgh. Mr. D. Foote, sculptor, and Mr. Harvey, painter, there receive their meed of deserved praise and high encouragement.-C. H. To Correspondents.-There is so much fine feeling, and even felicitous description in the pieces of M., that we regret that their length, and, permit us to hint, their irregularity must exclude them from "The Ant." Let him eschew copying L. E. L.'s vices of style.-J. G. should not fall in love for six years to come. Printed by James Curll, 55, Bell-Street, and sold by all Booksellers. No. VIII.-SATURDAY, 10th MARCH, 1827. THE SNOW STORM. A DRYGATE STORY. BY ARCHIBALD M'CRONY. "Thicker and thicker grew the gelid air, ON a Friday afternoon, in the month of March, 178–, I left Glasgow for the purpose of forming one at a bridal party whose festivities were to be celebrated at the residence of the father of the bride, near to the pretty village of Cathcart. Immediately after I had joined the gay and happy throng assembled on the occasion, the storm, which had lowered all day, broke out with bitterness and wrath, and the drizzle of rain which had previously fallen slowly down from the clouds, was changed into angry gusts of sleet and flaky snow. We all congratulated ourselves on having reached our destination in such good time, and the ceremony proceeded. It was followed by the daffin and jocoseness then customary on such occasions; and in the great happiness and merriment of drinking, dancing, singing, and maybe preeing our partners' lips, we forgot that the elements of nature raged without, and thought not upon the houseless wanderer and benighted traveller struggling with the north-east blast and drifting snow. The bridegroom was to spend the honey-moon with his father-in-law, and I, as his "best man," was of course lodged for the night in the same house, so needed not to cross the threshold, or feel the blast, farther than by merely bidding good-bye to the other guests, as they departed to their respective neighbouring homes-none being from a distance but myself. By custom, I should have spent all the following day with the newly-married couple, and accompanied them to church on Sabbath, but a most pressing piece of business called me into Glasgow on Saturday evening, which once transacted, I might return and spend whatever time I pleased with the young folks. Accordingly, although from an early hour in the morning, long before any of our bridal friends had risen indeed, the snow had fallen thick and close, till the whole country was covered with it to a considerable depth, I resolved to set out on my way home. As the day advanced, the fall became more dense-the sky lowered heavier-and the wind, that for a while had been stilled, rose, and drove about the descending particles in fearful swirls, as well as much of what had already fallen to the ground, in long and overwhelming drifts and wreathes. The air seemed to become thick and palpable, and the wind was as cutting when you faced it, as if every particle of each particular flake of snow had had its separate point of sharpened frozen steel; all this I saw and felt upon merely venturing to the door-way, about two o'clock-how much more must the bitterness of the storm have been experienced after being long exposed to its fury. Living thing there was none visible, and even the hedges by the way-side ceased to mark the boundaries of road and field; yet a dire necessity compelled me to make light of the entreaties of my friends and the three miles of road between their home and mine, and at an hour too late I set out for Glasgow. It was four o'clock when I crossed the steep bridge over the Cart, but it was far in the evening before I reached that over the Clyde. The swirl and the blast at one time blew right in my face, and at another, when these were lulled, the closeness of the silent fall of large and heavy particles was equally blinding. By this time, too, the roads had become so deeply covered, that, to make even the smallest step forward, I was obliged to stride upwards the full length of my leg, as if climbing the steepest stair in the Luckenbooths of Edinburgh, or ascending even my own Bell o' the Brae. By the time I had struggled on to the top of the hill now called Mount Florida, I would have given all I was worth that so hospitable a mansion as that now upon its summit had been at hand, for I then saw what a weird I had before me, in trying to reach the Gorbals. However, down that eminence I floundered, and setting myself doggedly to work, and becoming even, as it were, inured to the tempest's wrath, I reached the farm-onstead, now ruined and wretched, and the haunt of dirty colliers' brats, which, with even then its smoking neighbourhood, was shortly after termed The Fire-Work, and thought that half of my toil, and all my peril, was now past. But this was only one of the sanguine follies people run into when I had they listen to the allurements of present ease. visited the tenants of this farm, and thought of calling as I passed, and craving a dram from their bottle, and a helping hand for the rest of my road, but every opening in the dwelling and out-houses was closely barricaded with snow, and all the inmates, men and cattle alike, were buried in sleep, or a fearful (if wakerife) silence within:-I had to pass on as best I might. Even when I guessed that, if I had kept the road, I must be close to the Gorbals toll, on this awful night I saw no glimmering window in the suburbs, or blaze of lamps or glare of reflected lights from the busy city on a Saturday night, although it could not, I thought, be more than seven o'clock-the fleecy veil hid all those that even deepest darkness better shows. Yet I thought that I must be near to the Gorbals loan; and sure enough I was close to human habitation, if human they could be called, a moment after I said, when I felt myself abruptly come in contact with a door-post, and through some chinks, discoverable in such close contact, perceived feeble_rays of light, and heard what I shall presently reveal. I had scarcely strength enough left to call out, but was on the point of essaying it, when the light became stronger, or my eyes better accustomed to it, and I heard, in a moment of stillness of the tempest, the terrible words, "D-n ye, haud the throat mair to me; he's got but ae cut, and the blood's lappering on the knife already, although it's run the length o' the door!"-Whether it was from fear or from exhaustion I never knew, but down I sank, my head striking the door, which gave way, and the accumulation of snow and my body rolled together into the hovel, which, when I came to my senses, I found was the secret place where-some journeymen butchers killed calves and sheep that were not very honestly come by! I slept that night safely, if not very soundly, in my own house in the Drygate; and then and often since, I have started up in my sleep, and shouted out with the voice of terror, when I thought myself again among midnight assassins, and amid the horrors of the SNOW STORM. THE HERON CORRESPONDENCE. CHARLES HERON TO THOMAS HERON. No. VII. You were right, Tom. I could not resist the temptation which the Theatrical Fund Dinner in Edinburgh held out to every lover of the drama, or admirer of the genius of the Chairman. At twelve on Thursday night I burthened my cloak bag with sundry changes of "fine linen and other apparel," and my purse with a few of the pieces of paper so despised a twelvemonth ago by the bullionists—and with a poet's pale and pensive moon beaming auspiciously upon him, behold your Quixote in search of intellectual enjoyment, pretty comfortably seated on the Edinburgh coach, and taking another and a farewell view of "Glasgow at six in the morning," under a different aspect than that in which he had recently beheld it. Seriously, I have seldom seen any thing more lovely than that morning was, or, rather, than was that night blushing into the arms of bridegroom morn. You will say I am getting rhapsodical -but wasn't it a fitting prelude this to a day of so much excitement and delight? It strung to the tension of pleasure the nerves -rarefied the spirit-and gave that first impulse to the ball of happiness, which is often all that it wants to send it easily to the goal. I had, from uncertainty as to my being able to attend the meeting, failed to secure a dinner ticket; and, on making it my first object of research, learned with dismay that far more than the number originally issued had deen disposed of-and that "M'Donald of Staffa," and God knows how many magnates, had in vain solicited for places at the feast. Let me resolve upon obtaining an object, however, you well know, Tom-be it good or bad, I admit-and if zeal, and energy, and perseverance can procure it, I shall ultimately become its possessor. In halfan-hour, a dozen zealous friends were on the alert, to procure me the pasteboard key to what I anticipated was to be a treat-but never suspected should become an era. I went myself to the rooms where the tables were set, and saw the heavy and tasteless magnificence of the (in day-time) dimly lighted assembly-hall, and three hundred empty plates and tumblers, with the whole corps dramatique of Edinburgh, and Murray in a meditative mood at their head, anxiously engaged about them, the stars ranging up and down the passages between the tables, as if in their orbits,-and the "tag, rag, and bobtail," clustered round the door. With his own suavity and fine breeding, Mr. Jones, on hearing of my predicament, assured me of his good wishes and earnest efforts to procure me a ticket-which, to cut the matter short, he did, when every other card, save one, which also turned up trump, had failed me. Well, then, for THE MEETING. I enter the room at five, and find it full. Good luck gets me a seat, and I begin to survey the company-highly respectable-and the Stewards, i. e. the gentlemen of the theatre, as handsome and agreeable as good looks, well-built coats, and 'lucky ties,' 'breast-knots' of white ribbon, and unceasing politeness and attention could |