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gress of retribution. The glimmering lights that shine among the alleys and parterres of the Champs Elysées • indicate none of the usual vigils common in a metropolis. • They are the watch-fires of a camp, of an English camp, 6 and in the capital of France, where an English drum has

not been heard since 1436, when the troops of Henry the • Sixth were expelled from Paris. During that space, of • nearly four centuries, there has scarce occurred a single

crisis which rendered it probable for a moment, that Paris • should be again entered by the English as conquerors; 6 but least of all, could such a consummation have been expected at the conclusion of a war, in which France so long predominated as arbitress of the continent, and which had periods when Britain seemed to continue the conflict only • in honourable despair.'

• There were other subjects of deep interest around me. • The lights which proceeded from the windows and from * the gardens of the large hotel occupied by the Duke of - Wellington, at the corner of the Rue des Champs Elysées, 6 and which chanced that evening to be illuminated in

honour of a visit from the allied sovereigns, mingled with • the twinkle of the camp-fires and the glimmer of the tents; 6 and the music, which played a variety of English and • Scottish airs, harmonized with the distant roll of the 5 drums, and the notes of that beautiful point of war which * is performed by our bugles at the setting of the watch. $ In these sounds there was pride and victory and honour, * some portion of which descended (in imagination at least)

to each, the most retired and humblest fellow-subject of the hero who led, and the soldiers who obeyed, in the 6 achievements which had borne the colours of Britain into • the capital of France. But there was enough around me to temper the natural feelings of elation, which, as a

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Briton, I could not but experience. Monuments rose on every side, designed to commemorate mighty actions, • which may well claim the highest praise that military achievement alone, abstracted from the cause in which it was accomplished, could be entitled to.- No building among the splendid monuments of Paris, but is marked with the name, or device, or insignia, of an emperor,

whose power seemed as deeply founded as it was widely • extended. Yet the gourd of the prophet, which came • up in a night and perished in a night, has proved the type of authority so absolute, and of fame so diffused; and the possessor of this mighty power is now the inha• bitant of a distant and sequestered islet, with hardly so 6much free will as entitles him to claim from his warders an hour of solitude, even in the most solitary spot in the civilized word.'--Paul's Letters, Letter XII.

LETTER V.

O with how great liveliness did he represent the conditions of

all manner of men !—from the overweening monarch to the peevish swaine, through all intermediate degrees of the superficial courtier or proud warrior, dissembled churchman, doting old man, cozening lawyer, lying traveler, covetous merchant, rude seaman, pedantick scolar, the amourous shepheard, envious artisan, vain-glorious master and tricky servant; - He had all the jeers, squibs, flouts, buls, quips, taunts, whims, jests, clinches, gybes, mokes, jerks, with all the several kinds of 'equivocations and other sophistical captions, that could properly be adapted to the person by whose representation he intended to inveagle the company into a fit of mirth. EKEKYBAAATPON, or the Discovery of a most exquisite

Jewel, &c. (By Sir Thomas Urquhart.) London, 1653. P. 105,-6.

An important and highly characteristic portion of the novels to which the foregoing observations on style bear very little reference, is the dialogue: a subject which I. thought might conveniently be reserved for separate consideration.

In comparing the dramatic scenes of the two writers, it will of course be proper to allow something for the difference between prose composition and lyrical poetry, in their general tone, and cast of phraseology. I must candidly own, too, that if it were necessary for the present purpose to point out any specimen of dialogue in the poems as rivalling that of the novels, taken in its happiest vein, I must at once abandon this topic. The display of exquisite humour and natural feeling in the characters and language of Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Dominie Sampson, honest Dandie Dinmont, Baillie Jarvie, Old Milnwood and his housekeeper, Lady Margaret Bellenden, Serjeant Bothwell, Jenny Dennison, Cuddie, and Mause, and the Covenanters, Robin Hood and the Clerk of Copmanhurst and the buxom Richard, have, I freely own, no counterparts in all the range of fiction from the Last Minstrel to Harold the Dauntless: nor would it be reasonable to expect, in compositions of this latter kind, such lively colloquial turns as the following:

Our knight of the broken head first kissed and hugged them' (the children) all round, then distributed whistles, penny-trumpets, and gingerbread, and, lastly, when the * tumults of their joy and welcome got beyond bearing, 'exclaimed to his guest, This is a' the gudewife's fault, • Captain-she will gie the bairns a' their ain way.'

...Me! Lord help me,' said Ailie, who at that instant • entered with the bason and ewer, how can I help it?' * I have náething else to gie them, poor things !".-Guy Mannering, vol. i. ch. 3.

Or the Highlander’s whimsical expostulation with the Baillie for singeing his plaid: 'Saw ever ony body ai de'cent gentleman fight wi' a firebrand before?'-Rob Roy, vol. iii. ch. 1.

Or the reflection which escapes with so much naïveté from Jeany Deans, when, after her tragi-comic parting with poor Dumbiedikes, her feelings of distress and gratitude give way

for a moment to her sense of ridicule, as the Laird is hurried away in his night-gown by the mutinous Rory Bean. 'He's aw gude creature,' said she, "and a kind--it's

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' a pity he has sae willyard a powney.'-Heart of Mid Lothian, vol, üü. ch. 1.

But if the comparison be restricted, to those points in which a near resemblance may be reasonably expected, an examination of the dialogue will, I think, go far in confirming our assurance of the novelist's identity with the poet.

Their address in combining narrative with conversation, so that each supports and animates the other, has been too long admired and celebrated to need illustration by particular examples. I cannot, however, forbear mentioning two splendid instances; the death of Marmion, and the distress of Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour on Knockwinnock Sands*

Not less remarkable are the nicety' of perception and felicity of execution with which they adapt language to the sex, age, character, and condition of the speaker. A few examples will show how similarly (if not equally in degree) the same talent is developed by these authors in both modes of composition: how each (as the author of Marmion says of Swift) seems, like the Persian dervise; to'

possess faculty of transfusing his own soul into the body of any one whom he may select ;-of seeing with his eyes, employing every organ of his sense, and even becoming master of the powers of his judgmentti

In the reply of young Buccleuch to the English archer, observe the admirable combination of childish simplicity with native haughtiness and courage :

“ For when the Red-Cross spied he,

The boy strove long and violently.

the

* Antiquary, vol. i. ch. 7. + Life of Swift (prefixed to the edition of his works in 19 volumes-Edinburgh 1814), conclusion, page 496,

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