master, when I find him a man of good sense and good morals; and I think him more deserving of my regard, than a titled fool, or an opulent knave.

E. C.

CATO.

THE fame of Mrs Siddons as an actress occa

sioned some gentlemen to

raise a sum by subcome to Edinburgh,

scription to induce her to

after her engagement at London, in spring 1784.

Mrs Siddons's first visit to Edinburgh was accordingly in May 1784.

The gentlemen subscribers, who had been the occasion of her coming, thought themselves entitled to be secured in seats in the pit the evenings she performed. This was thought very reasonable, and they were admitted a quarter of an hour before the doors opened. But the vast crowds that attended, eager for admission, creating much inconvenience and disturbance; a part of the pit was railed off for the subscribers, after the three first appearances of Mrs Siddons. The anxiety to see this celebrated actress was so great, that crowds were often at the doors from

eleven o'clock forenoon till five in the afternoon. This rage for seeing Mrs Siddons was so great, that there were 2557 applications for 650 places. The weather being warm, and the house excessively crowded, gave occasion for the servants of the theatre introducing a variety of liquors into the pit and galleries. Very circumstantial accounts of Mrs Siddons's acting, and criticisms on the plays, were given to the public in the newspapers on each performance.

The following humorous lines appeared after her fifth appearance:

EPISTLE

FROM MISS MARIA BELINDA B-GLE, AT EDINBURGH, TO

HER FRIEND MISS LAVINIA L-TCH, AT GLASGOW.

I hear, with deep sorrow, my beautiful L-tch,
In vain to come here you your father beseech;
I say in all places, and say it most truly,
His heart is as hard as the heart of Priuli;

'Tis compos'd of black flint, or of Aberdeen granite,
But smother your rage-'twould be folly to fan it.
Each evening the playhouse exhibits a mob,
And the right of admission's turn'd into a job.
By five the whole pit us'd to fill with subscribers,
And those who had money enough to be bribers;
But the public took fire, and began a loud jar,
And I thought we'd have had a Siddonian war:

The committees met, and the lawyers hot mettle
Began very soon both to cool and to settle;
Of public-resentment to blunt the keen edge,

In a coop they consented that sixty they'd wedge;

And the coop's now so cramm'd, it will scarce hold a

mouse,

And the rest of the pit's turn'd a true public house.
With porter and pathos, with whisky and whining,
They quickly all look as if long they'd been dining,
Their shrub and their sighs court our noses and ears,
And their twopenny blends in libation with tears
The god of good liquor with fervour they woo,
And before the fifth act they are a' greeting fou;
And still, as a maxim, they keep in their eye
This excellent adage, "that sorrow is dry:"
Tho' my muse to write satire's reluctant and loth,
This custom, I think, savours strong of the Goth.
As for Siddons herself, her features so tragic,

Have caught the whole town with the force of their magic;

Her action is varied, her voice is extensive,

Her

eye very fine, but somewhat too pensive.

In the terrible trials of Beverley's wife,

She rose not above the dull level of life,

She was greatly too simple to strike very deep,

And I thought more than once to have fallen asleep.

Her sorrows in Shore, were so soft and so still,

That my heart lay as snug as a thief in a mill:

I never as yet have been much overcome,

With distress that's so gentle, with grief that's so dumb:
And, to tell the plain truth, I have not seen any
Thing yet, like the tumble of Yates in Mandane:

For acting should certainly rise above nature,

And indeed now and then she's a wonderful creatureWhen Zara's revenge burst in storms from her tongue, With rage and reproach all the ample roof rung: Isabella too rose all superior to sadness,

And our hearts were well harrow'd with horror and

madness.

From all sides the house, hark the cry how it swells!
While the boxes are torn with most heart piercing yells;
The Misses all faint, it becomes them so vastly,

And their cheeks are so red that they never look ghastly,
Even Ladies advanced to their grand climacterics
Are often led out in a fit of hysterics;

The screams are wide-wafted East, West, South, and
North,

Loud Echo prolongs them on both sides the Forth.
You ask me what beauties most touchingly strike-
They are beauteous all, and all beauteous alike,
With lovely complexions that time ne'er can tarnish,
So thick they're laid o'er with a delicate varnish,
Their bosoms and necks have a gloss and a burnish,
And their cheeks with fresh roses from Raeburn they
furnish.

I quickly return, and am just on the wing,

And some things I'm sure that you'll like I will bring, The sweet Siddons' cap, the latest dear ogle

Farewell till we meet

Your true friend,

Edinburgh, June 7. 1784.

MARY B-L

E. C.

Quid vetat?

SIR,

-ridentem dicere verum

HOR.

August 13. 1785.

Our summer scene of amusement and gaiety being now ended, by the last night of Mrs Siddons's appearance, I think you should inform your country readers what have been the prevailing fashions this season. This is a most interesting subject of inquiry, for the manners and fashions of the capital are most eagerly followed in the country.

You should tell your female country readers that the balloon hat and the Werter bonnet have given way to the gypsey; and the Robin Gray is fast following.

Fashion has long held good sense and propriety in thraldom, but her triumph has never perhaps been so striking as of late.-A little squat dumpling figure, under a gypsey hat, like Tom Thumb under a bee-hive, is the most ludicrous thing that modern fashion has exhibited. Even the tall and taper damsel looks like the pole of her umbrella, when she is rigged out in a flounced gypsey, and then the ventilation of our streets and lanes affords so charming an opportunity of tossing the head about, to keep this