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corner was a stagnant pool of water surrounding an black, and cabbaged at the end, and dimmed the island of muck; there were several half-drowned fowls little light that remained in the chamber. The gloom crowded together under a cart, among which was a that now prevailed was contagious. Around hung the miserable crest-fallen cock, drenched out of all life shapeless and almost spectral box-coats of departed and spirit, his drooping tail matted, as it were, into travellers, long since buried in deep sleep. I only a single feather, along which the water trickled from heard the ticking of the clock, with the deep-drawn bis back; near the cart was a half-dozing cow chew breathings of the sleeping toper, and the drippings of ing the cud, and standing patiently to be rained on, the rain-drop, drop, dnip—from the eaves of the with wreaths of vapour rising from her reeking hide; house. a wall-eyed horse, tired of the loneliness of the stable, was poking his spectral head out of a window, with the rain dripping on it from the eaves ; an unhappy cur, chained to a dog-house hard by, uttered some- John GIBSON LOCKHART, the biographer of his thing every now and then between a bark and a yelp; illustrious father-in-law, Sir Walter Scott, and editor a drab of a kitchen wench tramped backwards and of the Quarterly Review, is author of four novels, forwards through the yard in pattens, looking as sulky Valerius, a Roman Story, three volumes, 1821; Adam as the weather itself; everything, in short, was com- Blair, one volume, 1822 ; Reginald Dalton, three fortless and forlorn, excepting a crew of hard-drink- volumes, 1823; and Matthew Wald, one volume, ing ducks, assembled like boon companions round a 1824. puddle, and making a riotous noise over their liquor. The first of Mr Lockhart's productions is the

I sauntered to the window, and stood gazing at the best. It is a tale of the times of Trajan, when that people picking their way to church, with petticoats emperor, disregarding the exaniple of his predecessor hoisted mid-leg high, and dripping umbrellas. The Nerva, persecuted the small Christian community bells ceased to toll, and the streets became silent. I which had found shelter in the bosom of the Eternal then amused myself with watching the daughters of City, and were calmly pursuing their pure worship a tradesman opposite, who, being confined to the and peaceful lives. As the blood of the martyr is house for fear of wetting their Sunday finery, played the seed of the church, the Christians were extendoff their charms at the front windows, to fascinate the ing their numbers, though condemned to meet in chance tenants of the inn. They at length were sum- caves and sepulchres, and forced to renounce the moned away by a vigilant vinegar-faced mother, and honours and ambition of the world. The hero of the I had nothing further from without to amuse me.

tale visits Rome for the first time at this interesting The day continued lowering and gloomy; the period. He is the son of a Roman commander, who slovenly, ragged, spongy clouds drifted heavily along; I had settled in Britain, and is summoned to Rome there was no variety even in the rain; it was one after the death of his parents to take possession of dull, continued, monotonoss patter, patter, patter, an estate to which, as the heir of the Valerii, he had excepting that now and then I was enlivened by become entitled. His kinsman Licinius, an eminent the idea of a brisk shower, from the rattling of the lawyer, receives him with affection, and introduces drops upon a passing umbrella. It was quite re. freshing (if I may be allowed a hackneyed phrase presented with sketches of the domestic society of

him to his friends and acquaintances. We are thus of the day) when in the course of the morning a horn blew, and a stage-coach whirled through the the Romans, with pictures of the Forum, the baths, street, with outside passengers stuck all over it, temples, and other marvels of Rome, which are cowering under cotton umbrellas, and seethed toge- At the villa of Capito, an Epicirean philosopher,

briefly, but distinctly and picturesquely delineated. ther, and reeking with the steams of wet box-coats Valerius meets with the two fair pieces of his host, and upper Benjamins. The sound brought out from their lurking-places a crew of vagabond boys Senipronia and Athanasia. The latter is the heroine and ragabond dogs, and the carroty-headed hostler, of the tale-a pure intellectual creation, in which we and that nondescript animal yclept Boots, and all see united the Roman grace and feminine sweetness the other vagabond race that infest the purlieus of an

of the patrician lady, with the high-souled fortitude inn; but the bustle was transient; the coach again and clevation of the Christian. Athanasia has emwhirled on its way; and boy and dog, and hostler braced the new faith, and is in close communion and Boots, all slunk back again to their holes; the with its professors. Her charms overcome Valerius, street again became silent, and the rain continued who soon obtains possession of her secret; and after

various adventures, in wliich he succours the perseThe evening gradually wore away. The travellers cuted maiden, and aids in her wonderful escape, he read the papers two or three times over. Some drew is at length admitted by baptism into the fellowship round the fire, and told long stories about their of the Christians, and embarks with Athanasia for horses, about their adventures, their overturns, and Britain. The materials of such a story are necesbreakings-down. They discussed the credits of diffe- sarily romantic and impressive. The taste and rent merchants and different inns, and the two wags splendour of ancient Rome present a fertile field for told several choice anecdotes of pretty chambermaids the imagination, and the transition from these to and kind landladies. All this passed as they were the sufferings, the devotion, and dangers of the quietly taking what they called their nightcaps'; that early Christians, calls up a different and not less is to say, strong glasses of brandy and water or striking train of feelings and associations. In his sugar, or some other mixture of the kind; after which serious and pathetic scenes the author is most sucthey one after another rang for Boots and the cham- cessful. In the low humour of his attendants, the bermaid, and walked off to bed in old shoes cut down vulgar display of the rich widow, and the servile into marvellously uncomfortable slippers. There was pedantry of the stoic tutor, there appear to us many only one man left-a short-legged, long-bodied, ple- sins against good taste. Some of the satirical touches thoric fellow, with a very large, sandy head. He sat and phrases are also at variance with the purity and by himself with a glass of port wine negus and a elegance of the general strain of the story, and with spoon, sipping and stirring, and meditating and sip- the consummate art with which the author has ping, until nothing was left but the spoon. He gra- wrought up his situations of a tragic and lofty nadually fell asleep bolt upright in his chair, with the ture, where we are borne along by a deep and steady empty glass standing before him; and the candle feeling of refined pleasure, interest, and admiration. seemed to fall asleep too, for the wick grew long and One of the most striking scenes in the novel is a

to rain on.

grand display at the Flavian amphitheatre, given by window not far distant from that at which I was
the emperor on the anniversary of the day on which placed, stretched forth his fettered hand as he
he was adopted by Nerva. On this occasion a Chris. spake :-Cotilius! I charge thee, look upon the hand
tian prisoner is brought forward, either to renounce from which the blessed water of baptism was cast
his faith in the face of the assembly, or to die in the upon thy head. I charge thee, look upon me, and
rena. Fighty thousand persons were there met, say, ere yet the blow be given, upon what hope thy

from the lordly senators on their silken couches, thoughts are fixed? Is this sword bared against the
along the parapet of the arena, up to the impene- rebel of Cæsar, or a martyr of Jesus ! charge thee,
trable mass of plebeian heads which skirted the speak; and for thy soul's sake speak truly.'
horizon, above the topmost wall of the amphitheatre A bitter motion of derision passed orer his lips,
itself.' The scene concludes with the execution of and he nodded, as if impatiently, to the Prætorian.
the Christian. In another scene there is great classic Instinctively I turned me from the spectacle, and my
grace, united with delicacy of feeling. It describes eye rested again upon the couch of Athanasia-but not
Athanasia in prison, and visited there by Valerius upon the vision of her tranquillity. The clap with
through the connivance of Silo, the jailer, who be. which the corpse fell upon the stones had perhaps
longs to the Christian party :

reached the sleeping ear, and we know with what

swiftness thoughts chase thoughts in the wilderness of I had hurried along the darkening streets, and up dreams. So it was that she started at the very mo the ascent of the Capitoline, scarce listening to the ment when the blow was given ; and she whisperedstory of the Cretan. On reaching the summit, we for it was still but a deep whisper— Spare me, Trajan found the courts about the temple of Jupiter already Cæsar, Prince—have pity on my youth-strengthen occupied by detachments of foot. I hastened to the strengthen me, good Lord! Fie! fie! we must not lie Mammertine, and before the postern opened to adınit to save life. Felix-Valerius—come close to me Caius us, the Prætorian squadron had drawn up at the great -Fie! let us remember we are Romans, Tis the gate. Sabinus beckoned me to him. “Caius,' said trumpethe, stooping on his horse,' would to Heaven I had been The Prætorian trumpet sounded the march in the spared this duty! Cotilius comes forth this moment, court below, and Athanasia, starting from her sleep, and then we go back to the Palatine; and I fear-i gazed wildly around the reddened chamber. The fear we are to guard thither your Athanasia. If you blast of the trumpet was indeed in her ear-and V'awish to enter the prison, quicken your steps.'

lerius hung over her ; but after a moment the cloud We had scarcely entered the inner-court ere Sabinus of the broken dream passed away, and the maiden also, and about a score of his Prætorians, rode into it. smiled as she extended her hand to me from the Silo and Boto were standing together, and both had couch, and began to gather up the ringlets that fioated already hastened towards me; but the jailer, seeing the all down upon her shoulder. She blushed and smiled centurion, was constrained to part from me with one mournfully, and asked me hastily whence I came, hurried word :

-Pity me, for I also am most wretched. and for what purpose I had come ; but before I could But you know the way; here, take this key, hasten to answer, the glare that was yet in the chamber seemed my dear lady, and tell her what commands have come.' anew to be perplexing her, and she gazed from me to

Alas! said I to myself, of what tidings am I doomed the red walls, and from them to me again; and then ever to be the messenger! but she was alone ; and how once more the trumpet was blown, and Athanasia could I shrink from any pain that might perhaps alle sprung from her couch. I know not in what terms viate hers? I took the key, glided along the corri- was essaying to tell her what was the truth; but I dors, and stood once more at the door of the chamber know, that ere I had said many words, she discorered in which I had parted from Athanasia. No voice my meaning. For a moment she looked deadly pale, answered to my knock; I repeated it three times, and in spite of all the glare of the torch beams; but she then, agitated with indistinct apprehension, hesitated recovered herself, and said in a voice that sounded no longer to open it. No lamp was burning within almost as if it came from a light heart— But, Caius, the chamber, but from without there entered a waver- I must not go to Cæsar without having at least a gar: ing glare of deep saffron-coloured light, which showed land on my head. Stay here, Valerius, and I shall me Athanasia extended on her couch. Its ominous be ready anon-quite ready.' and troubled hue had no power to war the image of It seemed to me as if she were less hasty than she her sleeping tranquillity. I hung over her for a mo- had promised ; yet many minutes elapsed not ere she ment, and was about to disturb that slumber-per- returned. She plucked a blossom from her bair a haps the last slumber of peace and innocence—when she drew near to me, and said, Take it: you must the chamber walls were visited with a yet deeper glare. not refuse one token more; this also is a sacred gift. *Caius,' she whispered, as I stepped from beside the Caius, you must learn never to look upon it without couch, why do you leave me Stay, Valerius.' I kissing these red streaks—these blessed streaks of the looked back, but her eyelids were still closed; the Christian flower.' same calm smile was upon her dreaming lips. The I took the flower from her hand and pressed it to light streamed redder and more red. All in an in my lips, and I remembered that the very first day I stant became as quiet without as within. I approached saw Athanasia she had plucked such a one when the window, and saw Cotilius standing in the midst apart from all the rest in the gardens of Capito. I of the court, Sabinus and Silo near him; the horse told her what I remembered, and it seemed as if the men drawn up on either side, and a soldier close be- little circumstance had called up all the image of bind resting upon an unsheathed sword. I saw the peaceful days, for once more sorrowfulness gathered keen blue eye as fierce as ever. I saw that the blood upon her countenance. If the tear was ready, hoxwas still fervid in his cheeks ; for the complexion of ever, it was not permitted to drop; and Athanasia rethis man was of the same bold and florid brightness, so turned again to her flower. uncommon in Italy, which you have seen represented in Do you think there are any of them in Britain!" the pictures of Sylla; and even the blaze of the torches said she; ‘or do you think that they would grow seemed to strive in vain to heighten its natural scarlet. there? You must go to my dear uncle, and he will The soldier had lifted his sword, and my eye was fixed, not deny you when you tell him that it is for my as by fascination, when suddenly a deep voice was sake he is to give you some of his. They call it the beard amidst the deadly silence Cotilius!—look up, passion-flower'tis an emblem of an awful thing. Cotilius!'

Caius, these purple streaks are like trickling drops; Aurelius, the Christian priest, standing at an open and here, look ye, they are all round the flower. Lo

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it not very like a bloody crown upon a pale brow? I on the main coast of the Palatinate, and then purwill take one of them in my hand, too, Caius; and sued their course leisurely through a rich and level methinks I shall not disgrace myself when I look country, until the grores of Grypherwast received apon it, even though Trajan should be frowning upon them amidst all the breathless splendour of a noble me.'

sunset. "It would be difficult to express the emotions I had not the heart to interrupt her; but heard with which young Reginald regarded, for the first silently all she said, and I thought she said the words time, the ancient demesne of his race. The scene was quickly and eagerly, as if she feared to be interrupted. one which a stranger, of years and experience rery

The old priest came into the chamber while she was superior to his, might have been pardoned for conyet speaking so, and said very composedly, “Come, templating with some enthusiasm; but to him the my dear child, our friend has sent again for us, and first glimpse of the venerable front, embosomed amidst the soldiers have been waiting already some space, its who are to convey us to the Palatine. Come, children,

Old contemporary trees,' we must part for a moment-perhaps it may be but

was the more than realisation of cherished dreams. for a moment-and Valerius may remain here till we return to him. Here, at least, dear Caius, you shall Involuntarily he drew in his rein, and the whole party

as involuntarily following the motion, they approached have the earliest tidings and the surest.'

The good man took Athanasia by the hand, and the gateway together at the slowest pace. she, smiling now at length more serenely than ever,

The gateway is almost in the heart of the village,

for the hall of Grypherwast had been reared long said only, ‘ Farewell then, Caius, for a little moment!' And so, drawing her veil over her face, she passed before linglish gentlemen conceived it to be a point

of dignity to have no humble roofs near their own. away from before me, giving, I think, more support to the ancient Aurelius than in her turn she received A beautiful stream runs hard by, and the hamlet is from himn. I began to follow them, but the priest almost within the arms of the princely forest, whose waved his hand as if to forbid me.

The door closed ancient oaks, and beeches, and gigantic pine-trees

darken and ennoble the aspect of the whole surroundafter them, and I was alone. • Adam Blair.' or, as the title runs, Some Passages herds in those deep and grassy glades, the fishernien,

ing region. The peasantry, who watch the flocks and in the Life of Mr Adam Blair, Minister of the Gospel who draw their subsistence from the clear waters of at Cross-Meikle, is a narrative of the fall of a Scottish the river, and the woodmen, whose axes resound all minister from the purity and dignity of the pastoral day long anong the inexhaustible thickets, are the character, and his restoration, after a season of deep sole inhabitants of the simple place. Over their cotpenitence and contrition, to the duties of his sacred tages the hall of Grypherwast'has predominated for profession, in the same place which had formerly many long centuries, a true old northern manorwitnessed his worth and usefulness. The unpleasant house, not devoid of a certain magnificence in its nature of the story, and a certain tone of exaggera- general aspect, though making slender pretensions tion and sentimentalism in parts of it, render the

to anything like elegance in its details. The central perusal of the work somewhat painful and disagree tower, square, massy, rude, and almost destitute of able, and even of doubtful morality. But · Adam windows, recalls the knightly and troubled period of Blair' is powerfully written, with an accurate con- the old Border wars; while the overshadowing roofs, ception of Scottish feeling and character, and pas- carved balconies, and multifarious chimneys scattered sages of description equal to any in the author's other over the rest of the building, attest the successive inworks. The tender-hearted enthusiastic minister of fluence of many more or less tasteful generations. Cross-Meikle is hurried on to his downfall . by fate Excepting in the original baronial tower, the upper and metaphysical aid,' and never appears in the parts of the house are all formed of oak, but this with light of a guilty person; while his faithful elder, John such an air of strength and solidity as might well Maxwell, and his kind friends at Semplehaugh, are shame many modern structures raised of better matejust and honourable representatives of the good old rials. Nothing could be more perfectly in harmony Scotch rural classes.

with the whole character of the place than the • Reginald Dalton' is the most extended of Mr autumnal brown ness of the stately trees around. Lockhart's fictions, and gives us more of the gene- The same descending rays were tinging with rich ral form and pressure' of humankind and society lustre the outlines of their bare trunks, and the prothan his two previous works. The scene is laid in jecting edges of the old-fashioned bay-windows which England, and we have a full account of college life in they sheltered ; and some rooks of very old family Dxford, where Reginald, the hero, is educated, and were cawing overhead almost in the midst of the where he learns to imbibe port, if not prejudice. The hospitable smoke-wreaths. Within a couple of yards lissipation and extravagance of the son almost ruin from the door of the house an eminently respectable. Ais father, an English clergyman; and some scenes looking old man, in a powdered wig and very rich of distress and suffering consequent on this miscon- livery of blue and scarlet, was sitting on a garden duct are related with true and manly feeling. Regi- chair with a pipe in his mouth, and a cool tankard nald joins in the rows and quarrels of the gownsmen within his reach upon the ground. (which are described at considerable length, and with The tale of Matthew Wald is related in the first apparently complete knowledge of similar scenes), but he has virtue enough left to fall in love; and person, and the hero experiences a great variety of

He is not of the amiable or romantic the scene where he declares his passion to the fair school, and seems to have been adopted (in the man. Helen Hesketh is one of the most interesting and

ner of Godwin) merely as a medium for portraying beautiful in the book. A duel, an elopement, the strong passions and situations in life. The story of subtlety and craft of lawyers, and the final succes. Matthew's first love, and some of the episodical nar. sion of Reginald to the patrimony of his ancestors, ratives of the work, are interesting and ably written. supply the usual excitement for novel readers; but There is also much worldly shrewdness and observa much of this machinery is clumsily managed, and tion evinced in the delineation of some of the scenes the value of the book consists in its pictures of Eng- and characters; but on the whole, it is the poorest lislı modern manners, and in its clear and manly of Mr Lockhart's novels. The awkward improbable tone of thought and style. The following is a de

manner in which the events are brought about, and scription of an ancient English mansion :-

the carelessness and inelegance of the language in They halted to bait their horses at a little village / many places, are remarkable in a writer of critical


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habits and high attainments as a scholar. Mr The successive bereavements and afflictions of Mar. Lockhart, we suspect, like Sheridan, requires time garet Lyndsay are little relieved by episode and patient revision to bring out fully his concep. dialogue: they proceed in unvaried measure, with tions, and nevertheless is often tempted or impelled no bright allurements of imagination to reconcile us to hurry to a close.

to the scenes of suffering that are so forcibly deMr Lockhart is a native of the city of Glasgow, picted. In many parts of the tale we are reminded son of the late Rev. John Lockhart, minister of the of the affecting pictures of Crabbe-s0 true to College Church. He was educated at the university human nature, so heart-rending in their reality and of his native city, and, in consequence of his supe. their grief. Of this kind is the description of the riority in his classes, was selected as one of the two removal of the Lyndsays from their rural dwelling students whom Glasgow college sends annually to to one of the close lanes of the city, which is a Oxford, in virtue of an endowment named 'Snell's natural and as truly pathetic as any scene in Foundation.' Having taken his degree, Mr Lock- modern fiction :hart repaired to Edinburgh, and applied himself to the study of the law. He entered at the bar, but The twenty-fourth day of November came at lastwas quickly induced to devote himself chiefly to a dim, dull, dreary, and obscure day, fit for parting literature. Besides the works we have mentioned, everlastingly from a place or person tenderly belored. Mr Lockhart was a regular contributor to Black | There was no sun, no wind, no sound, in the misty wood's Magazine, and imparted to that work a and unechoing air. A deadness lay orer the wet large portion of the spirit, originality, and deter- earth, and there was no visible heaven. Their goods mined political character which it has long main- and chattels were few; but many little delays ac tained. In 1820 he was married to Sophia, the eld-curred, some accidental, and more in the unwilling est daughter of Sir Walter Scott, a lady who pos-ness of their hearts to take a final farewell. A neighsessed much of the conversational talent, the unaf- bour had lent his cart for the fitting, and it was not fected good humour, and liveliness of her father. standing loaded at the door ready to move away. The Mrs Lockhart died on the 17th of May 1837, in Lon- fire, which had been kindled in the morning with a few don, whither Mr Lockhart had gone in 1825 to re- borrowed peats, was now out, the shutters closed, the side as successor to Mr Gifford in the editorship of door was locked, and the key put into the hand of the the Quarterly Review.

person sent to receive it. And now there was nothing more to be said or done, and the impatient horse started briskly away from Braehead. The blind girl

and poor Marion were sitting in the cart_Margaret Professor Wilson carried the peculiar features and her mother were on foot. Esther had two or and characteristics of his poetry into his prose com

three small flower-pots in her lap, for in her blindness positions. The same amiable gentleness, tenderness,

she loved the sweet fragrance and the felt forms and love of nature, pictures of solitary life, humble affec- imagined beauty of flowers; and the innocent carried tions, and pious hopes, expressed in an elaborate but away her tame pigeon in her bosom. Just as Mar rich structure of language, which fixed upon the garet lingered on the threshold, the Robin Redbreast, author of the Isle of Palnıs the title of a Lake Poet, that had been their boarder for several winters, may be seen in all his tales. The first of these ap- and turned up its merry eyes to her face. “There,'

hopped upon the stone seat at the side of the door, peared in 1822, under the name of Lights and Shadows said she, "is your last crumb from us, sweet Roby

, of Scottish Life; a Selection from the Papers of the but there is a God who takes care o us a'? The late Arthur Austin. This volume consists of twenty- widow had by this time shut down the lid of her four short tales, three of which (The Elder's Funeral, The Snow-Storm, and The Forgers) had pre- memory, and left all the hoard of her thoughts and viously been published in Blackwood's Magazine. The assembled group of neiubbours, mostly mother,

feelings, joyful or despairing. buried in darkness. Most of them are tender and pathetic, and relate to with their children in their arms, had given the God Scottish rural and pastoral life. The innocence, bless you, Alice, God bless you, Margaret, and the simplicity, and strict piety of ancient manners are lare,' and began to disperse ; each turning to her own described as still lingering in our vales; but, with a Ane spirit of homely truth and antique Scriptural says would either be forgotten, or thought on with

cares and anxieties, in which, before night, the Lynd. phraseology, the author's scenes and characters are that unpainful sympathy which is all the poor can too Arcadian to be real. His second work, The afford or expect, but which, as in this case, often Trials of Margaret Lyndsay (one volume, 1823), is yields the fairesť fruits of charity and love. more regular in construction and varied in incident. The heroine is a maiden in humble life, whose father foot travellers all the way to the city. Short as the

A cold sleety rain accompanied the cart and the imbibes the opinions of Paine, and is imprisoned distance was, they met with several other fittings, on a charge of sedition, but afterwards released. He

some seemingly cheerful, and from good to betterbecomes irreligious and profane as well as dis- others with wo-begone faces, going like themselves affected, and elopes with the mistress of a brother down the path of poverty on a journey from which reformer. The gradual ruin and deepening dis- they were to rest at night in å bare and hungry tress of tbis man's innocent family are related with house. much pathos. Margaret, the eldest daughter, endea

The cart stopped at the foot of a lane too narrow vours to maintain the family by keeping a school; to admit the wheels, and also too steep for a laden one of her brothers goes to sea, and Margaret horse. Two or three of their new neighbours--pero forms an attachment to a sailor, the shipmate of her sons in the very humblest condition, coarsely and brother, who is afterwards drowned by the upset, negligently dressed, but seemingly kind and decent ting of a boat in the Firth of Forth. Sorrows and people--came out from their houses at the stopping of disasters continually accuLyulate on the amiable the cart-wheels, and one of them said, ' Ay, ay,

here's heroine. Her fortitude is prit to a series of severe the flitting, l'se warrant, frae Braehead. Is that you, trials, and though it is impissible to resist the Mrs Lyndsay? Hech, sers, but you're gotten a nasty mournful interest of the story, we feel that the cauld wet day for coming into Auld Reekie, as you author has drawn too largely on the sympathies of kintra folks ca' Embro. Hae ye had ony tidings, say his readers, and represented the path of virtuous ye, o' your gudeman since he gaed aff wi' that lim; duty in far too melancholy and oppressive a light. I mer? Dool be wi' her and a' sic like.' Alice replied

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kindly to such questioning, for she knew it was not He has edited Gilpin’s Forest Scenery, and Sir meant unkindly. The cart was soon unladen, and Uvedale Price's Essays on the Picturesque, adding the furniture put into the empty room. A cheerful much new matter to each; and he was commissioned fire was blazing, and the animated and interested to write a memorial of her Majesty Queen Victoria's faces of the honest folks who crowded into it, on a visit to Scotland in 1842. A complete knowledge slight acquaintance, unceremoniously and curiously, of his native country, its scenery, people, history, but without rudeness, gave a cheerful welcome to the and antiquities--a talent for picturesque delineation new dwelling: In a quarter of an hour the beds were —and a taste for architecture, landscape-gardening, laid down-the room decently arranged—one and all and its attendant rural and elegant pursuits, distinof the neighbours said, 'Gude night,' and the door was guish this author. closed upon the Lyndsays in their new dwelling. The Youth and Manhood of Cyril Thornton, 1827,

They blessed and ate their bread in peace. The was hailed as one of the most vigorous and interestBible was then opened, and Margaret read a chapter. ing fictions of the day. It contained sketches of There was frequent and loud noise in the lane of pass- college life, military campaigns, and other bustling ing merriment or anger, but this little congregation scenes and adventures strongly impressed with truth worshipped God in a hymn, Esther's sweet voice lead- and reality. Some of the foreign scenes in this work ing the sacred melody, and they knelt together in are very vividly drawn. It was the production of prayer. It has been beautifully said by one whose the late THOMAS Hamilton, Esq., who visited Ameworks are not unknown in the dwellings of the poor- rica, and wrote a lively ingenious work on the Tired Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep!

new world, entitled Men and Manners in America, He, like the world, his ready visit pays

1833. Mr Hamilton was one of the many travellers Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes; who disliked the peculiar customs, the democratic Swift on his downy pinions flies from wo,

government, and social habits of the Americans; and And lights on lids unsullied with a tear.

he spoke his mind freely, but apparently in a spirit Not so did sleep this night forsake the wretched. of truth and candour. He came like moonlight into the house of the widow In 1828 a good imitation of the style of Galt was and the fatherless, and, under the shadow of his published by Mr Moir of Musselburgh, under the wings, their souls lay in oblivion of all trouble, or title of The Life of Munsie Waugh, Tailor in Dalkeith. perhaps solaced even with delightful dreams. Parts of this

amusing autobiography had previously In 1824 Mr Wilson published another but in- appeared in Blackwood's Magazine, and it was much ferior story, The Foresters. It certainly is a singu

relished for its quaint simplicity, shrewdness, and lar and interesting feature in the genius of an

exhibition of genuine Scottish character. author known as an active man of the world, who

Among the other writers of fiction who at this has spent most of his time in the higher social circles time published anonymously in Edinburgh was an of his native country and in England, and whose English divine, Dr James Hook (1771-1828), the scholastic and political tastes would seem to point only brother of Theodore Hook, and who was dean to a different result, that, instead of portraying of Worcester and archdeacon of Huntingdon. To the manners with which he is familiar—instead of indulge his native wit and humour, and perhaps to indulging in witty dialogue or humorous illustra- spread those loyal Tory principles which, like his tion, he should have selected homely Scottish sub-brother, he carried to their utmost extent, Dr Hook jects for his works of fiction, and appeared never so

wrote two novels, Pen Owen, 1822, and Percy Mal. happy or so enthusiastic as when expatiating on the ory, 1823. They are clever irregular works, touchjoys and sorrows of his humble countrymen in the ing on modern events and living characters, and dissequestered and unambitious walks of life.

cussing various political questions which then engaged

attention. • Pen Owen' is the superior novel, and Various other novels issued about this time from contains some good humour and satire on Welsh the Edinburgh press. MRS JOHNSTONE published genealogy and antiquities. Dr Hook wrote several anonymously Clan Albyn (1815), a tale written political pamphlets, sermons, and charges. before the appearance of Waverley, and approach- ANDREW PICKEN was born at Paisley in the year ing that work in the romantic glow which it casts 1788. He was the son of a manufacturer, and brought over Highland character and scenery. Mrs Grant up to a mercantile life. He was engaged in business of Laggan (a highly competent authority) has borne for some time in the West Indies, afterwards in a testimony to the correctness of the Highland descrip: bank in Ireland, in Glasgow, and in Liverpool. At tions in Clan Albyn.'. A second novel, Elizabeth the latter place he established himself as a bookde Bruce, was published by Mrs Johnstone in 1827, seller, but was unsuccessful, chiefly through some containing happy sketches of familiar Scottish life. speculations entered into at that feverish period, This lady is also authoress of some interesting tales which reached its ultimatum in the panic of 1826. for children, The Diversions of Hollycot, The Nights Mr Picken then went to London to pursue literature of the Round Table, &c. and is also an extensive con- as a profession. While resident in Glasgow, he tributor to the periodical literature of the day. Her published his first work, Tales and Sketches of the style is easy and elegant, and her writings are marked West of Scotland, which gave offence by some satiriby good sense and a richly cultivated mind.

cal portraits, but was generally esteemed for its local Sir Thomas Dick LAUDER, Bart., has written fidelity and natural painting. His novel of The two novels connected with Scottish life and history, Sectarian ; or the Church and the Meeting-House, three Lochandhu, 1825, and The Wolf of Badenoch, 1827. volumes, 1829, displayed more vigorous and concen. In 1830 Sir Thomas wrote an interesting account of trated powers; but the subject was unhappy, and the Great Floods in Morayshire, which happened in the pictures which the author drew of the disseuters, the autumn of 1829. He was then a resident among representing them as selfish, hypocritical, and sorthe romantic scenes of this unexampled inundation, did, irritated a great body of the public. Next year and has described its effects with great picturesque. Mr Picken made a more successful appearance. The ness and beauty, and with many homely and pathetic Dominie's Leyacy, three volumes, was warmly welepisodes relative to the suffering people. Sir Thomas comed by novel readers, and a second edition was has also published a series of Highland Rambles, much called for by the end of the year. This work coninferior to his early novels, though abounding, like sists of a number of Scottish stories (like Mr Carlethem, in striking descriptions of natural scenery. I ton's Irish Tales), some humorous and some pathe

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