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sents, and Symon is agreeably surprised, yea, transported with joy, on Sir William's discovering himself. From this we may learn a moral lesson.

Sir William is here questioning Symon as to Patie's attainments. The rustic replies thus

"Whene'er he drives our ship to Edinboro' port,
He buys some books of history, songs, or sport,
Nor does he wann o'them as rowth at will,
And carries ay a pouchfu' to the hill.

About ane Shakespeare, and a famous Ben,
He often speaks, and caes them best o' men-
I sometimes thought he made too great a phrase,
About fine poems, histories, and plays.

When I reproved him anes-a book he brings,
Wi' this, quoth he, on braes I crack wi" kings."
Sir William's reply is extremely beautiful→

"He answered well; and much ye glad my ear,
When such accounts I of my shepherd hear.
Reading such books can raise a peasant's mind,
Above a lord's that is not thus inclin'd.”

This allusion, relative to education, is an evident illustration, and happily expressed

"Like the rough di'mond, as it leaves the mine, Only in little breakings shows its light, 'Till artful polishing has made it shine, Thus education makes the genius bright."

Act IV.

Represents and gives us a true specimen of housewife chat. In Madge that fury temper, so peculiar to old maids, and their ill-nature, is well depicted. Were this character omitted, the drama would tend still more to a favourable opinion of the pastoral life.

Patie's generous resolve claims esteem and admiration. This afflicted lover derives consolation from giving loose to the determination of his heart. Like a faithful friend is Roger, much affected, and, in the simplicity of heart, astonished at Patie's knowledge.

The swain's advice is praiseworthy, and proves how, necessary it is to study authors of judgement and

merit.

"Frae books, the wale of books I gat some skill,
Thae best can teach what's real good and ill,
Ne'er grudge ilk year to ware some stanes of chuse,
To gain those silent friends that ever please."

The last line is admirable, and needs no comment. With what feeling does the poet touch on this tender interview, where two mutual lovers are agitated by fear.-Peggy, in the simplicity of her soul, says she

"Dare na think sae high,"

but at the same time her throbbing bosom betrays that the once cherished hope is still an inhabitant therefor with a pleasing agony the dear maid takes a retrospect of their innocent love professions!-how enchantingly she retraces former pleasures in these endearing words

"Na' more again to hear sweet tales express,
By th' blyth shepherd that excell'd the rest;
Nae more be envied by the tattling gang,
When Patie kiss'd me, when I danc'd or sang.
Nai more a lake! we'll on the meadow play,
And rin half breathless round the ricks of hay,
As oftimes I ha' fled frae thee right fain,
And fa'n on purpose that I might be tane.
But hear my vow-'twill help to gi'e me ease
May sudden death, or deadly sair decease,
And worst of ills attend my wretched life,
If e'er to ane but you, I be a wife!"

O! but Patie is ennobled by virtuous emotions—a kind of enthusiasm darts with rapidity over the whole man. In his soothing assurance to his adored Peggy, we read a noble magnanimity of disposition-a fire that stimulates to action, blended with true honour, and crowned with virtue. Love is the noblest passion implanted in the human breast. Love is in its operations unaccountable, yet forcibly felt by those entangled in its pleasing spares. Our poet must have expe

rienced its effects, as those two amiable swains breath sentiments purely descriptive of the passion. The different songs are incomparably fine.

Ac. V.

Sir William justly observes, that superstition springs from

"Silly notions which crowd the clouded mind, That is through want of education blind."

Glacid admonishes the young girls in a manner worthy the attention of the fair sex in general

"Daft, lassie, ye ken nought of the affair,
Ane young and good, and gentle's un' so rare.
A rake's a graceless spark, that thinks no shame
To do what such as us thinks sin to name-

They'll tempt young things like you, with oudith flush'd,

Sync mak ye a' their jest, when ye're debauch'd; Beware then, I say, and never gie

Encouragement or bourd wi' sec as he."

Poor Peggy thinks too highly of Patie's moral character, than even to harbour an opinion inimical to his goodness. While we are in love with her unsuspecting innocence, we feel poignantly for her agitation of mind. Distressed innocence will always arouse such feelings in the thinking part of mankind. Nature is, in this respect, unerring.

The unsuspected discovery is no less pleasing than well imagined:-Sir William is, at first sight of Peggy, led to conceive in her he sees the daughter of his sister, whom he supposed

"Death had soon deprived of sweetest breath."

The discovery unfolds itself in joyful shades, and still our eye is fixed on Patie and Peggy, for who like lovers feel Love and parental affection are sublime principles, We are even disposed with Peggy to cxclaim

"My wishes are complete-my joys arise, Whilst I'm half dizzy with the blest surpriseAnd am I then a match for my ain lad,

That for me so much gen'rous kindness had?. Long may Sir William bless the happy plains, Happy, while heaven grant he on them remains." Again the pastoral poet shows that love, genuine love, spurns interested motives. Wealth is as nought when put in competition with this all-powerful pas sion.

A sympathetic glow of joy bursts from honest Symon and Glaced, with a sincerity that must not remain unnoticed. To crown all, Patie interests himself in behalf of his trusty friend Roger, and gets Glacid's consent to his receiving Jenny's fair hand. Thus terminates this charming drama, and our best wishes o'ershade the actors.

Sir William's moral admonition is a concise lesson, on ethics, and certainly founded on the strictest truth"Be ever virtuous, soon or late you'll find Reward and satisfaction to your mind; The maze of life sometimes looks dark and wild, And oft when hopes are highest we're beguil'd; Oft when we stand on brinks of dark despair, Some happy turn with joy dispels our care.”

Having faithfully culled from the pastoral comedy a few of its beauties, we can affirm, with safety, that it is the finest production of the kind any where to be met with; the various songs are pleasing and expressive, deserving the highest praise, and transcending imitation.

PASTORA.

No. IV.

BULL DOG,

a breed peculiar to England, and less frequently to be met with even there, since the barbarous custom of bull-baiting has declined; he is cruel and fierce, often biting before he barks, and is easily distinguished by his short nose, and by the under jaw being longer than the upper. Buffon calls him Le Dogue.

"The original stock of dogs," says Mr. Pennant," in the old world is, with great reason, supposed to be the schakal, or jackal; that from their tamed offspring, casually crossed with the wolf, the fox, and even the hyæna, have arisen the numberless forms and sizes of the canine race. Before him, Buffon, with much ingenuity, had traced out a genealogical table of all the known