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pretends to contain-" The Antiquities of the Jews, carefully compiled from authentic sources, and illustrated from modern travels,"
Stories of Waterloo, and other Tales. Three volumes.
changed them with a passionate note, and made a regular engagement for ever,
"Two years passed away, and we were ordered home. Heavens! what were my feelings when I landed at Portsmouth! I threw myself into a carriage, and started with four horses for Canterbury; I arrived there with a safe neck, and lost not a moment in announcing my return to my constant Harriette.
Such was the state of things when the route came and my troop was ordered to embark for Portugal. Hea vens! what a commotion! Harriette was in hysterics; we talked of an elopement, and discussed the propriety of going to Gretna; but the d-d burry to embark prevented us, I could not, you know, take her with me. Woman in a WE have read this book with very great pleasure. We transport! a devilish bore; and nothing was left for it but were at first rather prejudiced against it by the title, to exchange vows of eternal fidelity. We did so, and partwhich appeared to us too much of the clap-trap order; but, | ed—both persuaded that our hearts were reciprocally broken. if it be so, it is not because the author needs to trust for "Ah, Mac if you knew what I suffered night and success to any such aid. He is a man of talent ;-he has day! Her picture rested in my bosom; and I consumed a a vivid fancy, a strong perception of character, an excel- pipe of wine in toasting her health, while I was dying of lent stock of humour, and the power of grasping vigo- stant Harriette supported me through all, and particularly damp and rheumatism. But the recollection of my conrously graver and more passionate themes. We should so when I was cheered by the report of the snub-nosed surimagine that this is his first book, for there is a freshness geon who joined us six months after at Santarem, and asabout it, and, in some things, an unpruned exuberance, sured me, on the faith of a physician, that the dear girl was which to us are particularly agreeable, considering the fa- in the last stage of a consumption. shion so prevalent now-a-days of writing novels by steam, or some sort of machinery. We guess him to be an Irishman, for the scene of the greater number of his stories is laid in Ireland. The connecting thread upon which they are strung is inger iously enough contrived. We are introduced to the 28th regiment, which is quartered, in the year 1815, in an Irish county, south of the Shannon. We become acquainted with the officers, and they tell us their own adventures and stories, which of course vary in their nature according to the character of the narrator. The interval between these stories is filled up with the proceedings of the regiment, which, on the return of Bonaparte from Elba, is ordered to Belgium, and conducts itself gallantly at the battle of Waterloo, of which a spirited account and many interesting anecdotes are given. What we like about our author is, that his imagination never flags, and that, though his Tales are numerous, there is no tameness or monotony in them. The first volume contains-My own Adventure-the Detachment the Adventure of the Captain of Grenadiers-theme to the window, and, quickly as it passed, I had full time Route the Outlaw's Story-the March-SarsfieldFrank Kennedy--and the Story of Colonel Hilson. Of these some are remarkable for the breadth and raciness of their humour, such as the story of " Frank Kennedy," in which there are several scenes worthy of Fielding, and which might be transferred to the stage with immense effect. And the others are no less remarkable for power
and pathos, such, in particular, as "Sarsfield" and "The Story of Colonel Hilson." In the second and third volumes we have some excellent descriptive writing, such as the account of “Napoleon's Return," "The Champs de Mai," and the Battles of Quatre-Bras, Ligny, and Waterloo, together with more stories equally strongly marked, whether of a light or serious cast, as those to which we have already alluded. Our especial favourites are, " Maurice MacCarthy" and "Stephen Purcell," both of which are full of thrilling interest; and we do not indeed know any others in the language of the same length which surpass them in strong dramatic power.
The short extract or two, which is all that our space enables us to give, will do no justice to these volumes. They may succeed, however, in conveying to the reader some idea of the author's humour, which, however, is only an inferior part of his talents. The shortest story we can find will best suit our purpose. It is entitled,
THE LITTLE MAJOR'S LOVE ADVENTURE." You must know, when I was in the 18th Light Dragoons, I was quartered in Canterbury; and having got some introductory letters, I contrived to make out a pleasant time enough. One of my visiting-houses was old Tronson's, the banker's devilish agreeable family-four pretty girls-all flirted-painted on velvet-played the harp-sang Italian, and danced as if they had been brought up under D'Egville, in the corps de ballet. The old boy kept a man cook, and gave ised Champagne. Now, you know there is no standing this; and Harriette, the second of the beauties, and I agreed to fall in love, which, in due course of time, we effected. Nothing could be better managed than the whole affair, We each selected a confidant, sat for our pictures, inter
"The delay of the messenger seemed an eternity; but what were my feelings, when he brought me a perfumed note (to do her justice, she always wrote on lovely letterpaper) and a parcel! The one contained congratulations on my safe arrival, accompanied by assurances of unfeigned regret that I had not reached Canterbury a day sooner, and thus allowed her an opportunity of having her dear friend Captain Melcomb' present at her wedding; while the packet was a large assortment of French kid-skins and white ribbon.
"That blessed morning she had bestowed her fair hand on a fat professor of theology from Brazen Nose, who had been just presented to a rich prebend by the bishop, for having proved, beyond a controversy, the divine origin of tithes, in a blue-bound pamphlet. Before I had time to recover from my astonishment, a travelling carriage brought
to see ma belle Harriette seated beside the thick-winded dignitary. She bowed her white Spanish hat, and six ostrich feathers to me as she rolled off,-to spend, as the papers inThere was a blessed return for two years' exposure to the formed me, the honey-moon at the Lakes of Cumberland.' attacks of rheumatism and French cavalry !"—Vol. II, pp. 43-6.
To this we shall add just one other passage of an equally lively kind:
A RIVAL." So far this gallant captain was particularly pleasant; but my horror was inconceivable, when, after a prolonged visit, he entreated with evident embarrassment, to be permitted to speak a few words to Miss Mervyn in the next room. I instant y started on my feet, grasped the general's cane, and, in a sort of frenzy, left the drawingroom, hastened to the shrubbery, and there threw myself on a bench.
"What the devil did the fellow want with Lucy? What else, but to make her an unconnected speech, and an offer of his hand and fortune. Was ever man so miserable as I? Lucy, the only woman that for ten years I could look upon without aversion, that she should be selected by this infernal Lancer! In another week, I might have come to the des perate resolution of asking her to marry, and have succeedAgain I forswore the sex-determined to be off for Galway ed; but this whiskered swordsman would be my ruin. -rose to order post horses-sat down again, and passed a miserable half hour, till I heard the wheels of that execra ble tandem crossing the gravel like a whilwind.
"Suspense was not endurable. I approached the house, and entered the drawing-room. Lucy was not there. I tried the library-equally unfortunate. I examined the green-house-no Lucy. The dressing-bell rang-the dinner peal succeeded-and Lucy entered the apartment by one door, as the servant announced dinner at another.
"A burning blush dyed her cheek, as her eyes encoun tered mine. All is over! I mentally ejaculated; and none but the d-d need envy the feelings that conviction carried with it.
"Would I have soup? No.-Fowl? Same reply. Dinner passed-neither ate. She was confused-I miserable; --the dessert was laid, and the servants left us.
“A pause-a painful pause of several minutes succeeded. I coughed:- Captain Hardyman' and the name came forth as reluctantly as a miser's donative- Captain Hardyman is a pleasant kind of-hem!-sort of Lucy bowed assent:- Agreeable conversation-hem! I mean that, before I left the room Lucy blushed:- Suppose, in tête-à-tête, the Captain equally entertaining; a deeper blush. Beg pardon-don't wish to be inquisitive.' "Poor Lucy appeared struggling to get words. Captain Hardyman's request must have appeared very odd; but-' and another blush, and more confusion. At length she managed to inform me that Captain Hardyman had offered his hand, and that she had declined the honour. Reader! the sequel shall be short;-I forgot wrist, foot, and finger, and found myself muttering something about 'unspeakable misery and eternal love.'"Vol. I. pp.
As we have already said, however, it is in the more serious tales that the author's abilities are fully developed, and these we sincerely recommend to the perusal of all admirers of fictitious writing. We shall be glad to hear soon that the author, encouraged by the success of this work, is again in the press; and we hope, for his own sake, that he will not think it necessary to conceal his name from us much longer.
The Foreign Review and Continental Miscellany. No. VIII. September, 1829. London. Black, Young, and Young.
of a great man," that “ Napoleon Bonaparte had, from his earliest years, determined on a career of infamy,"that, "in no relation of life, was Napoleon incontaminate from baseness," that "he was no statesman,"-that "he lacked personal courage," that "there was not one particle of patriotism in the gross composition of Napoleon's heart," that, "in every condition of life, he manifested the unworthy passion of the miser and the beggar—a love for money.' What can be said of nonsense such as this, but that its writer is not only destitute of all feeling of what is great, but even of that petty prudence which teaches a man to be silent when things beyond his comprehension are spoken of? For such a creature, we cannot feel anger, but simple contempt. We regard him as we might a poor snail, that leaves its slimy track on some corner of the grave-stone of the mighty dead of St Helena. Sincerely, however, do we advise the conductors of the Foreign Review to let such a contributor drop out of their establishment as speedily as possible. We do not object to toads and similar unclean animals when preserved in spirits and carefully corked up, on the shelves of a museum, but we dislike to see them sprawling upon our tables.
Another fault in the present Number is its small spar lieve us, that there is bad taste and worse policy in ring with the Foreign Quarterly. The editor may bethis. The good-natured public will not fail to infer that the first of these publications which recommences hostilities, does so because it feels the other getting a-head of it.
The article which we have read with most pleasure is that on Italian comedy, notwithstanding it is the one in which the last-mentioned sin is perpetrated. It contains interesting information on a subject little known in this country. Still, it leaves much to be done. We must also beg leave to dissent from the reviewer when he prefers the tame respectability of Goldoni, to the fantastic but genial originality of Gozzi. The utmost ambition of the former was to introduce the comedy of Molière upon the Venetian stage. He copied his characters, it is true, from nature, but he first learned to look upon nature through a glass which he got from the French dramatist. He was an imitator-an ingenious one, doubtless, and by no means servile-but still an imitator, and full of the coldness and stiffness inseparable from the character. The genius of Gozzi, on the contrary, was self-illumined, the fuel that fed its flame was native produce. The wri
We have had occasion to speak favourably of the earlier Numbers of this journal, and hope to be called upon to praise those that are to come; but, to be candid, the present one is very indifferent. There is not one of the articles of which we can say that it is marked either by vigour of style and thought, or by thorough acquaintance with the subject it professes to treat and there is one in particular-the review of Bourrienne's Memoirs against which we have a graver charge to bring. That the character of the late Emperor of France should have been misapprehended in this country, while a war almost of extermination was waging betwixt us, was natural and pardonable. But, now that our passions have had time to cool-that the grave has closed over that extraordinary man—that his actions have for years been freely and keenly canvassed by friend and foe, there is no excuse for him who wilfully abides in error. We are not among the indiscriminate worshippers of Napoleon, we can see dark specks even in the blaze of his bright-ter of the review himself bears testimony to the high taness,-nay, looking upon his fate in a political point of view, we can acknowledge the necessity of allowing the imprisoned eagle to fret out his existence pecking at the bars of his cage, although we cannot so far pervert our feelings as not to feel sorrow at the sight. But, at the same time, we hold it established, that he was the greatest general the world has seen,-that he had a mind alike penetrating and comprehensive, that, compared with others whose lot it has been to rule the destinies of mankind, he possessed a fair proportion of the milk of human kindness, and that, in as far as his own country was concerned, it was he who, out of the discordant chaos into which all parts of the social structure had been cast by the Revolution, re-constructed a permanent and efficacious government. Conscientiously believing, nevertheless, that the endurance of his power, adorned as it was with all these dazzling qualities, would have been prejudicial to the wider interests of Europe, we can rejoice that our cause has triumphed; but we should despise ourselves for ever were we capable of nothing but ungenerous exultation over the fall of such an enemy. It was, therefore, with feelings of the most unqualified disgust that we perused the above-mentioned article. The reviewer premises that he expects the public to be astonished at his opinion of Napoleon; but to a man like him-we wonder who he is "the astonishment of thoughtlessness, and the sneer of conceit, signify little." He then proceeds to tell us, in *good set phrase, that "Napoleon's mind was not the mind
lents of some of the performers in the improvisatore style
she has been intrusted to the guardianship of a neighbour; and, in order to make the parallel complete, her kind friends who have undertaken the charge, are employing all the means in their power to render the disease permanent, and thus to secure for themselves the unchallenged administration of her property. It is the way of the world.
and "The Will," are the most to our taste in the volume. The light sketches of character are happy, and the sentiments inculcated such as we entirely approve of. "Julia," with its Introduction, and "Sternherst," are irreproachable in their tendency; but they trespass upon ticklish ground, which would be more safely avoided by the writer whose first object is amusement.
Edited by London. Sampson
The Iris: a Literary and Religious Offering.
The Life and Remains of Wilmot Warwick. his friend, Henry Vernon. Volume Second. Pp. 314. London. James Ridgway, Piccadilly. 1829. THE first volume of this book was, it seems, favourably received by all our periodical critics, with the single THIS is an Annual of decidedly a religious cast; but it exception of the London Magazine. Its praise was far is one, at the same time, well entitled to attention from from being sufficiently rapturous to satisfy the author, all classes. The contents, whether in prose or verse, and he felt himself in the very unpleasant dilemma, in without being brilliant, are highly respectable. The Edias far as regarded that Magazine, of having no great tor's poetical contributions, which are all of a sacred chacause of complaint, but at the same time nothing for racter, are numerous and good; and he is, in this departwhich to be thankful. Thus, at least, we translate his ment, well supported by Mrs Howitt, Miss Jewsbury, suppressed grumbling at the coldness of his judges, and Alaric Watts, Thomas Pringle, S. C. Hall, and others. the quantity of their advice, and the eagerness with which Among the most interesting of the prose articles are a he stands up to a sparring match with the above-named paper on the "Character of Nicodemus," by the late Bishop dissenting reviewer. This (whatever people may think Heber,-the " Aymstrie Nighte Bell," aud the "Bath of of it) is all very natural. Young authors have uniform- Isis,” by the Rev. E. Baines,—and “ Luke O'Brian,” a ly a craving for excitement; lavish encomium is the tale, by Mrs S. C. Hall. The embellishments are enkind which is most grateful to them—and failing it, the tirely upon sacred subjects, and from ancient masters. only welcome alternative is downright abuse, which en- This is a novel and interesting feature. It is a delighttitles them to betake themselves to that most delightful of ful thing to see the works of such men as Murillo, Carlo all employments the retort un-courteous. Were we in- Dolci, Claude, Leonardo Da Vinci, and Ludovico Car. clined at present to sermonise, we might demonstrate, racci, well engraved, and ministering to so laudable a purwith the aid of a thousand pithy instances, that this pose as that which the Iris is intended to serve. In some seeming contradiction is, in all stages of society, the pre-instances, the engraving might have been better executed; dominant feature in the characters of men whom heaven has gifted with an imagination more lively than common. The knights of old were continually either fighting or kissing their mistresses; and we honestly confess that we prefer, at any time, a regular quarrel with an old friend, to a heartless relapse into indifference.
Revenons à nos moutons—although we suspect that Wilmot Warwick or Henry Vernon, or (as the lawyers say in their concise phraseology)" one or other, or both of them," is, like Coriolanus, scarcely a mouton, but one of those, pugnacious lambs which baa like bears. Once for all, however, we would advise our young friend to leave tilting with the critics, except in the extreme case when some dirty fellow becomes personal and abusive. That critics contradict each other, we allow; but "so many men, so many minds," and the author is not expected, like the old man and his son with their ass, to take the advice of all of them. There are, too, (this, however, we speak in the strictest confidence,) some unutterable blockheads in the brotherhood; but "bray a fool in a mortar, yet will not his folly depart from him." Once more, revenons à nos moutons.
The author of this book is evidently a man of strong mind and right feeling-one who dares to think for himself, and not unfrequently expresses himself both with vigour and originality. Yet, as a story-teller, (and by far the greater portion of the volume consists of narrative,) he has a great fault--he is, like honest Dogberry, in the fulness of his heart willing to bestow all his tediousness upon us. He sets about his tale in such a lumbering way, that we have sometimes been apt, from the length of the road, to lose all desire to get to the end. The first story, the Monk of Benvenuto, is the least liable to this objection, and exhibits occasional bursts of power. At the end, however, it is too hastily and unsatisfactorily botched up. It is very true, as the author says, that explanations come lamely in at the end of a story; but the answer to this is, that he should not have left them to the end. "The Three Brothers" is tiresome; the story is too apparently got up for the sake of a moral, in itself neither very recondite nor novel. The three sketches entitled "The Boarding-house," "Death and the Grave,"
but in all, the genius of a great painter is distinctly visible. Our chief favourites are Murillo's "Madonna and Child," Claude's "Flight into Egypt," Carracci's “Incredulity of St Thomas," and Carlo Dolci's "Magdalen." The "Christ raising Lazarus" is either a very poor painting originally, or has been spoiled by the engraver. We do not quote from the Iris, not because we could not easily select articles well deserving of the honour, but because it would be an endless task were we to attempt to transfer to our pages the beauties of every Annual.
The Comic Annual, for 1830. Edited by Thomas Hood.
MR HOOD has written almost the whole of this Annual himself, and it is quite an olla-podrida of "whims and oddities." We have as yet seen only some of the sheets, and abstain from speaking of its literary contents till we have the whole before us. Instead of splendid engravings, George Cruickshank has enriched the volume with upwards of a hundred of his clever and amusing caricatures. They are done in a light and sketchy style, and are, of course, not all of equal merit, but some of them are exceedingly humorous. Among others, we may mention the following, which will convey a pretty good idea of the whole :-I." A Party of Pleasure," a wherry turned upside down in the water, with three men and a child clinging like grim death to the keel, their countenances and attitudes expressive of the most dreadful consternation, and in fine contrast with the name of the wherry, which, as appears by the letters painted on the inverted stern, is "The Delight." II. "Emigration-Meeting a Settler," a native, evidently, of the Emerald Isle, going out to his morning work with a spade in his hand, somewhere probably in Van Diemen's Land, and coming all at once plump upon an immense lion, who looks at him with that grim expression of countenance which seems to imply that it would have been wiser had the emigrant never left Ireland, a settler with a vengeance! III. "A Bumper at Parting," a stage-coach setting off from the court-yard of an inn, and passing under the covered way, against which the heads of the outside passengers
minds of the pupil, and at the same time presents him with models of all kinds of style. We are glad that a work of this kind should have appeared in Edinburgh, bécause we think it augurs well of the progress which French education has made among us, and will have the effect of stimulating to still further exertions Monsieur le Clerc's fellow-teachers.
The Heraldry of Crests, containing upwards of 3500 different Crests, illustrative of those borne by at least 20,000 Families. Accompanied by remarks, Historical and Explanatory, &c. &c. London. Henry Washbourne. 1829. 12mo.
are unexpectedly bumped with most excruciating violence, the destination of the coach, as indicated by the writing on the panels, very naturally being Holyhead. IV. "Rocket-time at Vauxhall-A Prominent Feature," an endless multitude of faces, both young and old, turned up towards the skies in pursuit of the flight of a rocket, and consequently scarcely a feature of any countenance visible but the nose, of which there appear to be an infinite variety in interminable perspective. V. "A Nursery-maid accustomed to the care of Children," a person of this description busily engaged in a tender tête-à-tête with an amorous swain on the banks of a river, while all that is visible of her charge, a nice little boy who had been sailing a boat in the stream, are his legs and feet quivering in the air, while he himself, having tumbled in, is drowning as fast as he can, perfectly unregarded by the amiable The volume contains nursery-maid “accustomed to the care of children." VI. “Let by-gones be by-gones," a fat gentleman with a port-peer and baronet of Great Britain, but by nearly every correct engravings not only of the crests borne by every manteau under his arm, vainly endeavouring to overtake distinguished family in the kingdom, accompanied by a a coach which has set off without him. VII. "A Spent few historical remarks, a list of terms, and copious inBall," a family group of fashionably-dressed persons dexes of the bearers' names. Our readers are of course yawning and sleeping in a state of the most perfect exwell aware, that in heraldry a crest denotes the uppermost haustion after the fatigue of the ball and supper they have just been giving to their friends. VIII. "A Constable's part of an armorial bearing, and is a figure placed upon a Miscellany," a curious collection of queer characters, pick-wreath, coronet, or cap of maintenance, above both hel
pockets, drunkards, thieves, and others, under the charge of a constable,—a good pun, and happily executed. The Comic Annual, we have no doubt, will be the occasion of many a smile, and perhaps prevent some suicides in the dreary months of November and December.
The Juvenile Keepsake. 1830. Edited by Thomas Roscoe.
A Course of the French Language; containing a Dictionary of Pronunciation, and Interlineary Exercises; concluding with an Original Treatise on Punctuation. By Theodore le Clerc. Edinburgh. A. Stewart. 1829. 8vo. Pp. 430.
We look upon this as a work of great merit. Monsieur le Clerc is well known in Edinburgh as a highlyrespectable and successful teacher of the French and Italian languages. The book before us satisfies us, that, with at least the former of these tongues he has a thorough and philosophical acquaintance. His system is founded principally upon the learned grammar of Lemare, and we venture to say, that no similar work has appeared in English in which the genius of the French language may be more successfully studied. The important subject of pronunciation M. le Clerc has placed at once in a novel and simple point of view; whilst, by means of his judiciously selected interlineary exercises, he fixes the rules in the
We believe this to be the best book extant upon British Crests-a branch of the science of Heraldry never held in greater esteem than at present.
met and shield.
of-arms or borne separately, with or without a motto, at It may be either attached to the coatthe option of the bearer. To the amateur, the artist, and the historian, the Heraldry of Crests is alike interesting; and by them the merit of this handsome volume will be best appreciated.
The Tower Menagerie; comprising the Natural History of the Animals contained in that Establishment; with Anecdotes of their Character and History. Illustrated with Portraits of each, taken from life, by William Harvey, and engraved on wood by Branston and Wright. London. Robert Jennings. 1829. 8vo.
THIS is a very handsome volume. The woodcuts are executed with a great deal of spirit and much more distinctness than usual; and the natural history of the different animals is evidently written by one accurately acquainted with the subject, and in all respects well adapted for the task. Nothing is to be regretted but that the Tower Menagerie does not contain more animals, in which case this work, as a system of zoology, would have been more complete.
The Polar Star of Entertainment and Popular Science, and Universal Repertorium of General Literature. For the Quarter ending at Michaelmas, 1829. London. H. Flower. 1829. 8vo. Pp. 420.
THIS is a continuation, under a new name, of the "Extractor," the two first volumes of which we have already had occasion to notice favourably. The editor, having somewhat enlarged his original plan, has thought himself entitled to assume a more sounding name.
selections are as varied and judicious as ever; and, except that he frequently omits to mention the source from which they are taken, we do not know any fault that can be found to them. The work undoubtedly condenses a great mass of information and amusement, and we shall be glad to see it proceed prosperously.
ANECDOTES OF HIGHLANDERS.
By the Ettrick Shepherd.
THE Rev. James M'Queen, one of the ministers of Skye, once told me, that a man of the name of M'Pherson, from the Braes of Lochaber, came to him for the baptism of one of his children. He being a stranger, the minister
enquired his name, connexions, and what parish he had come from; and, in particular, if he had brought a testimonial of his character?
"Haich? A testimoniel? Fat pe she?" "Why, it is just a written account of the character you have borne; and testified by the minister and elders of the parish."
to be crossing from Kinghorn to Leith on a very stormy | day, and as the vessel heeled terribly, he ran to the cords and held down with his whole vigour to keep her from upsetting. “For te sake of our lives, shentles, come and hold town!" cried he; " or, if you will nhot pe helping mhe, I'll hit you all go to the bhottom in one mhoment. And you ploughman tere, cannot you kheep te howe of te furr, and no gang ower te crown of te rhiggs avaw? Heich ?" The steersman at this laughing aloud, the Highlander was irritated, and with one of the levers he
"Oach, no, Mr M'Queen; she didna brought her." "But you ought to have done it. What was the reason you did not bring it with you?" "Because hersell was thoughting she would be as petter ran and knocked him down. "Nhow! laugh you nhow?" without it."
A gentleman of Strathdon said to his maid one night, "Tell Finlay to rise very early to-morrow morning, and go down to Aberdeen for the upholsterer." "Yes, sir. For the what did you say, sir?" "For the upholsterer. He knows him.” "Finlay, you are to rise very early, master says; and you are to call on me to make you a brose, and you are to go down to Aberdeen, and bring home a polsterer." "A polsterer? What's that?"
said he;" and you weel deserve it all, for it was you who put her so mhad, kittling her thail with tat pin."
About thirty years ago, I first visited the Spital of Glenshee, and at that time I never had seen a greater curiosity than the place of worship there. It is a chapel of ease belonging to a parish called Kirkmichael, is built with stone and lime, and the roof is flagged with slate. The door was locked, but both the windows were wide open, without either glass or frame, so that one stepped as easily in at the windows as at the door. There were
"Master says you have seen him, and know what he no seats, but here and there a big stone placed, and, as
Whoy, that viled lubberly bhaist the polsterer."
Mr David Paterson once told me that he saw a black man standing at a door in Glasgow, and a young Highlander from the country, passing by at the time, chanced to cast his eyes on him with a gleam of prodigious interest. Paterson, anticipating some grand sport, drew near, and saw the Highlander come briskly forward, and begin a feeling the black servant's hands and clothes, muttering to himself all the while, "Aih, Cot a mercy on us all! what is made up for te pawpee here!" At length he began as briskly to handle the Black's face, on which the latter gave him a rude push, and cried, "Stand back, sir!" The young Highlander uttered a loud shriek, and sprung almost to the middle of the street, and then, tening round in utter astonishment, he exclaimed, “Cot's crace! Cot's crace! wha ever saw'd the like of tat? I'll be tamn if I didna thought she was a timber."
things of great luxury, there were two or three sticks laid from one of these to another. The floor was literally paved with human bones, and I saw that the dogs had gnawed the ends of many of them by way of amusing themselves in the time of worship. There were also hundreds of human teeth, while in the north-west corner of the chapel there was an open grave, which had stood so for nearly three months. It had been made in the preceding December for a young man who had died in the Braes of Angus, but it came on such a terrible storm that they could not bring the corpse, so they buried him where he was, and left this grave standing ready for the next. When the service was ended, the minister gathered the collection for the poor on the green, in the crown of his hat, and neither men nor women thought of dispersing but stood in clubs about the chapel, conversing, some of them for upwards of an hour. I have seen many people who appeared to pay more attention to the service, but I never saw any who appeared to enjoy the crack after sermon so much.
I once came to a parish in the west of Ross-shire, in which both the manse and church were thatched with heather, of which the following pleasant anecdote was re lated to me. It had always been customary there to fine persons guilty of what is fashionably termed a faur pas, The money went
The same Mr Paterson once saw another Highlander standing looking at the head of a black man on a tobacco-five groats and a burden of heather. nist's sign-board, which head kept constantly moving on springs. Paterson drew near, and began to look with
still greater astonishment; on which the Highlander said, "Pray, coot shentlemhan, can you pe telling her if yonter head pelong to one of Cot's crheatures ?"
A Highlander from the small isles, who had never been in a church, or heard sermon in his life, came over to a Sacrament on the mainland, and the service being in his native tongue, he paid great attention till the psalm was given out, for he had missed the first one. When the precentor fell a-bawling out, Donald could not comprehend that, and called to some to stop him; but how was he astounded, when the whole congregation fell agaping and bawling with all their energy! Donald, conceiving it altogether a fit of madness, of which the precentor was the primary cause, bustled up to him, and gave him a blow on the side of the head, till the book dropped from his hand. "What do you mean, sir?" said the clerk. "Humph! pe you taking tat," said Donald; "for you was te pekinner of tis tamn toohoo!"
An elderly man, from the Braes of Athol, who had never seen either a ship or sea in his life, once chanced
to the support of the poor, and the heather to keep the manse and kirk in thatch, and both were so liberally supplied that the minister unadvisedly doubled the fine. From that day forth there was never one groat more came in to the support of the poor, and the church and manse were both tirled to the bare ribs. At length one Sunday, after sermon, the parish beadle made this memorable pro clamation :
"Ho yes! Tis pe to give notice to all concerned, tat from tis tay forth to te end of te world, tere will pe in tis place te coot ould cluich at te coot ould price, te five creat and te purden of heather."
In a short time the manse and church were as well thatched as ever.