The audience that day, besides Mr. Digges and Mrs. Sarah Ward, were the Right Hon. Pat. Lord Elibank, Lord Milton, Lord Kames, Lord Monboddo, (the two last were then only lawyers,) the Rev. John Steele, and William Home, ministers. The company (all but Mrs. Ward) dined afterwards at the Griskin Club, in the Abbey. The above is a signal proof of the strong passion for the drama which then obtained among the _literati_ of this capital, since then, unfortunately, much abated. The rehearsal must have been conducted with very great secrecy; for what would the Kirk, which took such deep offence at the composition of the piece by one of its ministers, have said to the fact, of no less than four of these being engaged in rehearsing it, and two others attending the exhibition? The circumstance of the gentle Anna having been personated by "Dr. Blair, minister of the High Church," is a very droll one.--_Edinburgh Evening Post_. * * * * * THE CUMBERLAND LANDLORD. (_To the Editor of the Mirror._) During a recent excursion in Cumberland, I copied the following epitaph from the _album_ kept at the inn at Pooley Bridge, the landlord of which is well known, as being quite an original:--W.W. Will Russell was a landlord bold, A noble wight was he, Right fond of quips and merry cracks, And ev'ry kind of glee. Full five-and-twenty years agone He came to Pooley Height, And there he kept the Rising Sun, And drunk was ev'ry night. No lord, nor squire, nor serving man, In all the country round, But lov'd to call in at the Sun, Wherever he was bound, To hold a crack with noble Will, And take a cheerful cup Of brandy, or of Penrith ale, Or pop, right bouncing up. But now poor Will lies sleeping here, Without his hat or stick, Nor longer rules the Rising Sun, As he did well when wick.[1] Will's honest heart could ne'er refuse To drink with ev'ry brother; Then let us not his name abuse-- We'll ne'er see sic another. But let us hope the gods above, Right mindful of his merits, Have given him a gentle shove Into the land of spirits. 'Tis then his talents will expand, And make a noble figure. In tossing off a brimming glass, To make his belly bigger. Adieu, brave landlord, may thy portly ghost Be ever ready at its heavenly post; And may thy proud posterity e'er be Landlords at Pooley to eternity. [1] Wick in Cumberland is used for alive. * * * * * A WATCH.