which, with the assistance of his father-in-law, he stocked and furnished. But fortune went against him;

"His cattle died, and blighted was his corn;"

and an unfortunate friend, for whom he had become security for £150, failed. Under such a load of ill, he, like many others, sought for consolation in the " yill caup ;" and any errand which served as a pretext to visit the town of Ayr, renewed his worship to the "inspiring bold John Barleycorn;" and he usually returned, like the Laird of Snottorston

"O'er a' the ills o' life victorious."

But Thomas had many a domestic squabble. His wife, naturally not of the sweetest temper, was doubly soured by the misfortunes of the world, and the dissipation of her help-mate; and often, when Tam

"Was gettin' fu' and unco happy,"

she sat at home,

Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm."

VOL. I.

M

She, like too many in that district at that time, was very superstitious. Thomas took her by the weak side, and usually arrested her " lighthorse gallop of clish-maclaver" by some specious story of ghost or hobgoblin adventures, with which he had been detained.

He had now got into such a continued state of dissipation and irregularity, that he was obliged to leave the farm to the mercy of his creditors, and opened a small public-house at the end of the old bridge on the waters of Doon. It was while he was here, that Tam O'Shanter made its appearance; a manuscript copy was sent to Thomas by post, with this motto—

Change the name, and the

Story may be told of yourself.

The celebrity of the poem brought numbers to his house, and he sold a great deal. But his spirit could not brook the brutal taunts and jeers, which every day he was obliged to bear from his customers. He left off business and commenced labourer, at which he continued till he got an offer of a situation as overseer of hedges, on the large estate of Castle Semple, at that time belonging to William M'Dowall, Esq. M. P. for

Renfrewshire, which he accepted. With short intervals, he remained there till the day of his death. He was of such a character, that he considered no man or class of men his superior, and no man his inferior.

Feeling the infirmities of old age approach, a Mr. Harvey placed him at his west gate as gatekeeper, where he fell into a lingering disease, which soon put a period to his mortal career. As he had no friends nor relations (his wife having died about two years before), he was destitute of the means to support himself during his illness.

The night before he died, he called for a halfmutchkin of whiskey, and as a particular friend of his sat by the side of the bed, and who personally informed the writer of this, he took a glass of it in his hand, held it between him and the light, and eyed it for some time with a peculiar exhilarating expression of countenance. Then, while pleasure sparkled in his eyes, he took his friend by the hand, and pressing it warmly, exclaimed, "This is the last whiskey I, in all probability, will ever drink; and many and often is the times I have felt its power. Here's to thee, Jamie, and may

thou never want a drap when thou art dry." He died next morning, about eight o'clock.

THE TABARD. CHAUCER'S INN.

As the Borough High Street was formerly the great passage into a great part of the kingdom, to and from the capital, it was well furnished with Inns; one of which has been immortalized by Chaucer. The sign is now perverted into The Talbot.'-It originally was

The Tabard;' so called from the sign,-a sleeveless coat, open on both sides, with a square collar, and winged at the shoulders; worn by persons of rank in the wars, with their arms painted on them, that they might be known. The use of this coat is now transferred to the heralds. This was the rendezvous of the jolly pilgrims, who formed the group which our father of poetry describes, sallying out to pay their devotions to the great saint, Thomas à Becket, whose shrine, for a long time, superseded, in England, almost every other, being resorted to down to the Reformation by pilgrims from all parts of Christendom.

"Befelle that in that season, on a day,

In Southwerck, at the Tabard, as I lay,

Redy to wander on my pilgrimage
To Canterbury, with devoute corage,
At night was come into that hostellerie,
Wel, nine and twenty in a compagnie
Of sondry folk, by adventure yfalle

In felowship, and pilgrims were they alle,
That toward Canterbury wolden ride;

The chambres and the stables weren wide,
And wel we weren essed atte beste."

ISABELLA ANDREINI,

a native of Padua, was a very celebrated actress, towards the beginning of the seventeenth century. But her excellence was not confined to the stage: she was also an admirable poetess. Many learned and ingenious men have bestowed eulogiums upon her, and her own works sufficiently justify their panegyrics. The intenti of Pavia (so the academicians of this city style themselves) were of opinion that they did their society an honour, by the admission of Isabella as a member of it. In acknowledgment of this honorary distinction, she never forgot amongst her titles that of Academica Infanta. Her titles were these: " Isabella Andreini, comica getosa, academica infanta detta l'accessa. She had a singular advantage which is not frequent among