PROLOGUE

TO MISS BAILLIE'S PLAY,

OF THE

FAMILY LEGEND.'

'Tis sweet to hear expiring Summer's sigh, Through forests tinged with russet, wail and die; "Tis sweet and sad the latest notes to hear Of distant music, dying on the ear;

But far more sadly sweet, on foreign strand,

We list the legends of our native land, tender tie, Memorials dear of youth and infancy.

Link'd as they come with every

Chief, thy wild tales, romantic Caledon, Wake keen remembrance in each hardy son.

1 [Miss Baillie's Family Legend was produced with considerable success on the Edinburgh stage in the winter of 1809-10. This prologue was spoken on that occasion by the Author's friend, Mr. Daniel Terry.]

Whether on India's burning coasts he toil,

1

Or till Arcadia's 1 winter-fetter'd soil,

He hears with throbbing heart and moisten'd eyes, And, as he hears, what dear illusions rise!

It opens on his soul his native dell,

The woods wild waving, and the water's swell; Tradition's theme, the tower that threats the

plain,

The mossy cairn that hides the hero slain :
The cot beneath whose simple porch were told,
By gray-hair'd patriarch, the tales of old;
The infant group that hush'd their sports the
while,

And the dear maid who listen'd with a smile.
The wanderer, while the vision warms his brain,
Is denizen of Scotland once again.

Are such keen feelings to the crowd confined, And sleep they in the Poet's gifted mind? Oh no! For She, within whose mighty page Each tyrant Passion shows his woe and rage, Has felt the wizard influence they inspire, And to your own traditions tuned her lyre. Yourselves shall judge—whoe'er has raised the sail By Mull's dark coast, has heard this evening's

tale.

The plaided boatman, resting on his oar,

Points to the fatal rock amid the roar

1 Arcadia, or Nova Scotia.

Of whitening waves, and tells whate'er to-night Our humble stage shall offer to your sight;

Proudly preferr❜d that first our efforts give Scenes glowing from her pen to breathe and live More proudly yet, should Caledon approve The filial token of a Daughter's love.

EPILOGUE TO THE APPEAL.1

SPOKEN BY MRS. HENRY SIDDONS,

FEB. 16, 1818.

A CAT of yore (or else old Æsop lied)
Was changed into a fair and blooming bride,
But spied a mouse upon her marriage-day,
Forgot her spouse, and seized upon her prey;
Even thus my bridegroom lawyer, as you saw,
Threw off poor me, and pounced upon papa.
His neck from Hymen's mystic knot made loose,
He twisted round my sire's the literal noose.
Such are the fruits of our dramatic labour
Since the New Jail became our next-door neigh-
bour.2

Yes, times are changed; for, in your father's age, The lawyers were the patrons of the stage;

1 ["The Appeal," a Tragedy, by John Galt, the celebrated author of the "Annals of the Parish," and other Novels, was played for four nights at this time in Edinburgh.]

2 It is necessary to mention, that the allusions in this piece are all local, and addressed only to the Edinburgh audience. The new prisons of the city, on the Calton Hill, are not far from the theatre.

However high advanced by future fate,

There stands the bench (points to the Pit) that first received their weight.

The future legal sage, 'twas ours to see,

Doom though unwigg'd, and plead without a fee.

But now, astounding each poor mimic elf, Instead of lawyers comes the law herself; Tremendous neighbour, on our right she dwells, Builds high her towers and excavates her cells; While on the left, she agitates the town, With the tempestuous question, Up or down?1 'Twixt Scylla and Charybdis thus stand we, Law's final end, and law's uncertainty.

But, soft! who lives at Rome the Pope must flatter,

And jails and lawsuits are no jesting matter.
Then just farewell! We wait with serious awe
Till your applause or censure gives the law. -
Trusting our humble efforts may assure ye,
We hold you Court and Counsel, Judge and Jury.

1 At this time, the public of Edinburgh was much agitated by a lawsuit betwixt the magistrates and many of the inhabitants of the city, concerning a range of new buildings on the western side of the North Bridge, which the latter insisted should be removed as a deformity.