face than into any I have ever seen on canvas. The same kind of power is shown in this head of the black, and to an equal degree, perhaps ; but the effect is not so interesting, because the expression is neither so varied nor so characteristic: it is an expression of mere joyous exultation. -But observe this dry, hard, with ered old wood-cut of a soldier. What avails it to bawl into his deaf ear, (as this Irish light horseman is doing) the details of an achievement which was begun and ended in three days, or, rather, in one day? Was not he "with General Elliot at the bombardment of Gibraltar," which lasted twenty-one months and twenty-one days? You may spare your breath, my good-natured friend; for he to whom you address yourself is rendered deaf by inclination as well as by age. But pray turn to this delightful touch of nature in the righthand corner of the picture. See! this lovely young creature, from whom that dragoon seems to have just taken the child he is holding up, is putting up her beautiful auburn hair, with as much quiet self-complacency, and as conscious a feeling as to its effect on her personal charms, as if she were alone before her mirror. The victory of Waterloo may be a good thing enough in its way, for any thing she knows or cares to the contrary; but what is it to her, compared with her own sweet face, and her desire to let it be seen to the best advantage !-These are the touches by which Wilkie evinces his exquisite genius; and perhaps they are more unequivocal proofs of it, than even his unrivalled power of producing intense and concentrated expression. It may, perhaps, be worth both our whiles to return to this adinirable work; for as yet we have but glanced at its most prominent features. But, at present, the time warns us to break away from it, and betake ourselves each to our several occupations. "For my poor part," I could be content never to pass a happier day than I do "the first Monday in May," every year, at the Exhibition; provided I could ensure the not being obliged to listen to any after criticisms on it-still less to read such-and, least of all, to write them! VOL. X. 66 THE PROVOST. BY THE AUTHOR OF "WHEELIE," as we predicted, has proved a ponderous commodity. The snivelling, greasy, impudent, upsetting little porpus, was received, on both sides of the Tweed, with a very general expression of contempt or disgust. We say nothing of the literary poverty-the cnormous blunders-the utter ignorance of life, especially high life-the entire absence of any thing indicative of scholarship-the drivelling, namby-painby, puffy, pithless style-the witless attempts to be witty, and the droll efforts to be droll-the improbability, incongruity, and chaotic confusion, that pervade the memoirs of this notable baronet: all this we have forgiven, or piticd, or simply laughed at, just as the "lights and shadows" of our humour happened to alternate for the time being; but the conceited, self-satisfied ignorancethe bustling forwardness-the sneaking, grovelling, crouching, time-serving cunning of this ugly little imp of an Asmodeus, did, we admit, move and stir up our atrabilious humours; especially when we reflected how admirably such a sketch of the "rise and progress" of a "pawky," vulgar, expatriated, fortune-hunting Scot, was calculated to make the whole John Bull genus chuckle and gloat over our supposed national meanness and baseness of spirit,-and how readily it might be seized on, to point anew those pointless sarcasms, which Englishmen, from the days of King Jamie (if the author of "Nigel" may be in aught believed) to the present hour, have been eager to indulge at our expense. Positively, we would have received, with more tolerance, a republication of some dozen cdd numbers of the villanous North Briton itself. With the Scotch, therefore, who possessed any of the perfervidum ingenium of their forefathers, it was thoroughly detested; with the English, who, perhaps, were more alive to its prominent in niaiseries and bêtises than to the implied national libel, it was very cordially laughed at and despised. The affair of Lord Sandyford and his wife trenched on the aristocrati5 G cal feelings of the latter, (for, with all his grumbling, growling, and outcry, John Bull is an aristocrat at bottom); while the former looked on the history of Wheelie's preferment as a vulgar and clumsy, though perhaps unintentional, attempt to satirize that ambitious spirit of persevering enterprise, which has conducted so many of our countrymen to rank, fortune, and distinction; and which, we trust, will long continue the enviable characteristic of the children " of dark glens and mountains wild." The thing, accordingly, fell, in some sort, "deadborn from the press," or was strangled in the very first days of its spurious existence. Ours, indeed, was the only literary journal that deigned to notice it; and we now regret that we condescended to bestow on it that distinction: it was really breaking a fly on a wheel!-erecting a gibbet to hang a dormouse !-wielding the club of Hercules to crush a gnat!But," in for a penny-in for a pound." This worthy and ingenious author, whose epidermis, we have reason to believe, no critical shaft can penetrate-so happily insensible is he to the exposure of his blunders and faults and upon whom we never calculated on making the least impression, appears, however, to have come to the knowledge, that Wheelie, and such as he, would not go down; and hence he has now "changed his hand," to inflict on us a transmogrified re-impersonation of the reverend Micah Balwhidder, the gossipping, "auld-farrant," many-wived parish priest of Dalmailing. Forth, therefore, trots" Provost Pawkie of Gudetown", a-masquerading in the borrowed or purloined habiliments of the uxorious parson;-as mawkish, "slee," selfish, "stale, flat, and unprofitable," as his more godly predecessor. To write English, or imagine English characters, might be competent to other men, but was not this author's forte. The dog has, therefore, returned to his vomit again; and, before we advance over the inatter of two dozen pages of this notable new work, we are chin-deep in the petty politics, low-bred passions, and uncouth slang, of a nameless borough, which are very naturally and properly supposed to possess great interest to persons of education and refinement, in a refined and enlightened age! If, however, there be any who take pleasure in such exhibitions, we must now certiorate them, that we do not, on this occasion, intend to cater very liberally to such an elegant appetite. Our notice of the "PROVOST” must be brief, and we have no intention that it should be very minute. His merits, we trust, will be duly appreciated; and we certainly think he is not the first worthy gentleman of the genus, who knew how to cloak everwatchful cunning in the snuff-coloured drab and "umbrageous beaver" of plain-dealing and sincerity-who resorted to the most paltry and contemptible tricks and juggleries, to secure and preserve an ascendancy in town politics-who has helped a drumly, foggy-headed preacher, to a warm fat living, on condition of his marrying a mouldy, superannuated female cousin-or who has liberally lined his own pouches from the contents of the public purse, pleading prior example, to sweeten the acidulated feeling of dishonesty which clung, in despite of him, to his conscience, like a thistle-top to a silk mantle. Agree ing so far with our author, that such a portraiture is not wholly destitute of verisimilitude, we now proceed to lay before our readers such an account of this magnum opus as is consistent with our very circumscribed limits. Pawkie had been brought up to the "tayloring," as the author elegantly words it; and having contrived to get "a nest egg," (Anglicè, a legacy), which "he did not fail to lay and cloke on to some purpose"(was he a hen after all)-he sets up a shop-soon becomes a thriving man-intermeddles not, for a season, with the esoteric arcana of borough politics; but, at last, when he had "taken the measure" of his soul, plunges in over head and ears-helps himself, according to use and wont, to some of the good things that fell par accident in his way, and which our learned author describes as "grassums, or gratus gifts"-thrice reaches the apex of burghal ambition, "the Provostry"-contrives, by a pitiful and miserable juggle, to get the Town Council, who seem to have had a rough guess of their man, to cover and sweeten his retirement from office, by a spacious piece of "silverplate" (we use the author's words again) and resigns his blushing honours immediately after, to give place, if not to a better, at least not a worse man.-And here the curtain drops, and we hear no more of the worthy Provost Pawkie! This is, after all, but scurvy treatment to the First Magistrate of a Royal Burgh. The mind is naturally eager to penetrate into the retirement of great men; and it was any thing but fair in the author to clap a padlock on the Provost's mouth, the moment he had doffed his gold chain, and descended to the rank of a 66 common man." We know only three great men whom we should have been proud to converse with, in exile or retirement, and these are-Napoleon Bonaparté, Lord Sidmouth, and "Provost Pawkie!" But as we cannot have all the talk to ourselves, we must suffer the Provost to jabber a morsel or two of his appropriate lingo; and, first of all, we shall permit him to describe an electioneering trick of such devilishly-clever device, that we verily be lieve its parallel is not to be found even in Wheelie, aided and abetted as he was by the fortune-telling Gipsy Sybil. By and bye, when the harvest in England was over, the parliament was dissolved, but no candidate started on my lord's interest, as was expected by Mr M'Lucre, and he began to fret and be dissatisfied that he had ever consented to allow himself to be hoodwinked out of the guildry. However, just three days before the election, and at the dead hour of the night, the sound of chariot wheels and of horsemen was heard in our streets, and this was Mr Galore, the great Indian Nabob, that had bought the Beerland estates, and built the grand place that is called Lucknoo-House, coming from London, with the influence of the crown on his side, to oppose the old member. He drove straight to Provost Picklan's house, having, as we afterwards found out, been in a secret correspondence with him through the medium of Mrs Picklan, who was conjunct in the business with Miss Nelly, the Nabob's maiden sister. Mr M'Lucre was not a little confounded at this, for he had imagined that I was the agent on behalf of my lord, who was of the government side, so he wist not what to do, in the morning when he came to me, till I said to him briskly "Ye ken, Bailie, that ye're trysted to me, and it's our duty to support the Nabob, who is both able and willing, as I have good reason to think, to requite our services in a very grateful manner." This was a cordial to his spirit, and, without more ado, we both of us set to work to I had nothing in view but the good of my get the Bailie made the delegate. In this country, by pleasuring, as it was my duty, his Majesty's government, for I was satisfied with my situation as Dean of Guild. But the handling required no small slight of skill. The first thing was, to persuade those that were on the side of the old member, to elect Mr M'Lucre for delegate, he being, as we had concerted, openly declared for that interest; and the benefit to be gotten thereby, having, by use and wont, been at an established and regular rate. The next thing was to get some of those that were with me on my lord's side, kept out of the way on the day of choosing the delegate; for we were the strongest, and could easily have returned the Provost, but I had no clear notion how it would advantage me, to make the Provost delegate, as was proposed. I, therefore, on the morning of the business, invited three of the council to take their breakfast with me, for the ostensible purpose of going in a body to the council chamber to choose the Provost delegate; but when we were at breakfast, John Snakers, my lad in the shop, by my suggestion, warily got a bale of broad cloth so tumbled, as it were by accident, at the door, that it could not be opened, for it bent the key in such a manner in the lock, and crooket the snek, that without a smith there was no egress, and sorrow a smith was to be had-all were out and around the tolbooth waiting for the upshot of the choosing the delegate.Those that saw me in the meantime, would have thought I had gone demented: I ramped, and I stamped ; I banned, and I bellowed, like desperation. My companions, no a bit better, flew fluttering to the windows, like wild birds to the wires of their cage. However, to make a long tale short, Bailie M'Lucre was, by means of this DEVICE, chosen delegate, seemingly against my side.-But, oh! he was a slee tod, for no sooner was he so chosen, than he began to act for his own behoof-and that very afternoon, while both parties were holding their public dinner, he sent round the bell to tell that the potatoe crop on his back rig was to be sold by way of public roup the same day. There wasna one in the town, that had reached the years of discretion, but kent what na sort of potatoes he was going to sell; and I was so disturbed by this OPEN CORRUPTION, that I went to him, and expressed my great surprise. Hot words ensued between us, and I told him very plainly, that I would have nothing further to say to him or his political profligacy. However, his potatoes were sold, and brought upwards of three guineas the peck, the Nabob being the purchaser; who, to show his contentment with the bargain, made Mrs M'Lucre, and the Bailie's three daughters, presents of new gowns, and prin-cods that were not stuffed with wool. This truly edifying horror of a bribe sits very gracefully on the incorruptible Provost, who loses no future occasion of indemnifying himself for being outwitted at this turn, and who fairly confesses, that he only abandoned peculation when the encreasing intelligence, and inquisitive spirit of the age, rendered ultimate detection and shame completely una voidable. stinted allowance of scorn, he took of appurtenances about him; and, in A young woman, by name Jeanie Gaisling, had been found guilty of child-murder, and sentenced to die the death in the Royal Borough of Gudetown. Pawkie was youngest Bailie when this happened; and Jack, the finisher of the law, who had been sent for from Ayr, not having arrived at the expected time, our hero narrowly escaped being made hangman. Ketch, however, at length casts up; and the poor thing dies in a state of lethargy, which must have rendered her death little better than a judicial murder, especially as she had given signs of mental infirmity and estrangement even before her trial. An execution in a country-town invariably produces a holiday to schools; shocks sentimental Misses; affords a topic of gossip to greybeards and grandams; and, in short, excites what is called "a great sensation." This cecurrence is wellenough described, but with the usual propensity to quiet exaggeration, for which this author is somewhat remarkable. We have not room for it. "I' gude faith,” cried the Bailie, with man to be forthwith committed as a king's prisoner to the Tolbooth; and turning to me, said:" My Lord Provost, as ye have not been present throughout the whole of this troublesome affair, I'll e'en gi'e an account mysel' to the Lord Advecate of what we have done." I thought, at the time, there was something fey and overly forward in this, but I assented; for I know not what it was, that seemed to me as if there was something neither right nor regular; indeed, to say the truth, I was no ill pleased that the Bailie took on him what he did; so I allowed him to write himself to the Lord Advocate; and, as the sequel shewed, it was No office or dignity is without a blessed prudence on my part that I did so. For no sooner did his lordship reits accompanying measure of ani.oy- ceive the Bailie's terrifying letter, than 1 ances and drawbacks. Pawkie, now special king's n essenger was sent to take become Provost, was cccasionally the spy into Edinburgh Castle; and now pelted by meal-mobs: but with him thing could surpass the great importance discretion was the better part of valour; and if he sometimes got no occasion, of getting the man intothat Bailie Booble made of himself, on the coach, en dec The failin first and two dragoons to guard him into Glas gow. But, O, what a dejected man was the miserable Bailie Booble, and what a laugh rose from shop and chamber, when the tidings came out from Edinburgh, that "the alien enemy" was but a French cook coming over from Dublin, with the intent to take up the trade of a confec No tioner in Glasgow; and that the map of We give the following with pleasure, because it contains one touch of simple and effective pathos (oh! si sic omnia!) It is from the chapter entitled "The Meal Mob." The grief, however, of the business was na visible till the Saturday, the wonted day for the poor to seek their meat, when the swarm of beggars that came forth was a sight truly calamitous. Many a decent auld woman, that had patiently eked out the slender thread of a weary life with her wheel, in privacy, her scant and want known only to her Maker, was seen going from door to door, with the salt tear in her e'e, and looking in the face of the pitiful, being as yet unacquainted with the language of beggary: but the worst sight of all, was two bonny bairns, drest in their best, of a genteel demeanour, going from house to house, like the hungry babes in the wood; nobody kent who they were, nor whar they came from; but as I was seeing them served myself at our door, I spoke to them, and they told me, that their mother was lying sick and ill at home. They were the orphans of a broken merchant from Glasgow, and, with their mother, had come out to our town the week before, without knowing where else to seek their meat. Various incidents occur to disturb the somnolent obesity of the worthy magistrate during his second reign. The volunteering then came in, as people say here; and with that neverfailing regard to the interest of the first person singular, which distinguished the Provost throughout the whole of his brilliant career, he at tempted, by a side wind, (for, like all feather-bed heroes. But the hook real 66 |