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and illustration. A healthy moral tone also per-like the widow of Zarephath,' in her poor and vades the whole-a clear and bracing atmosphere solitary cottage! The dejection and anxiety of of real life; and what more striking lesson in prac- Morton on his return from Holland are no less tical benevolence was ever inculcated than those strikingly contrasted with the scene of rural peace words of the rough old fisherman, ejaculated while and comfort which he witnesses on the banks of the he was mending his boat after returning from his Clyde, where Cuddie Headrigg's cottage sends up son's funeral-What would you have me do, unless its thin blue smoke among the trees, showing that I wanted to see four children starve because one is the evening meal was in the act of being made drowned? It's weel wi' you gentles, that can sit in ready,' and his little daughter fetches water in a the house wi' handkerchers at your een, when ye pitcher from the fountain at the root of an old oaklose a freend, but the like of us maun to our wark tree! The humanity of Scott is exquisitely illusagain, if our hearts were beating as hard as my trated by the circumstance of the pathetic verses, hammer.' wrapping a lock of hair, which are found on the slain body of Bothwell-as to show that in the darkest and most dissolute characters some portion of our higher nature still lingers to attest its divine origin. In the same sympathetic and relenting spirit, Dirk Hatteraick, in Guy Mannering,' is redeemed from utter sordidness and villany by his one virtue of integrity to his employers. I was always faithful to my ship-owners-always accounted for cargo to the last stiver.' The image of God is never wholly blotted out of the human mind.

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In December of the same year Scott was ready with two other novels, The Black Dwarf, and Old Mortality. These formed the first series of Tales of My Landlord, and were represented, by a somewhat forced and clumsy prologue, as the composition of a certain Mr Peter Pattieson, assistant-teacher at Gandercleuch, and published after his death by his pedagogue superior, Jedediah Cleishbotham. The new disguise (to heighten which a different publisher had been selected for the tales) was as unavailing as it was superfluous. The universal voice assigned the works to the author of 'Waverley,' and the second of the collection, Old Mortality,' was pronounced to be the greatest of his performances. It was another foray into the regions of history which was rewarded with the most brilliant spoil. Happy as he had been in depicting the era of the Forty-five, he shone still more in the gloomy and troublous times of the Covenanters. To reproduce a departed age,' says Mr Lockhart, with such minute and life-like accuracy as this tale exhibits, demanded a far more energetic sympathy of imagination than had been called for in any effort of his serious verse. It is indeed most curiously instructive for any student of art to compare the Roundheads of Rokeby with the Blue-bonnets of Old Mortality. For the rest, the story is framed with a decper skill than any of the preceding novels; the canvass is a broader one; the characters are contrasted and projected with a power and felicity which neither he nor any other master ever surpassed; and notwithstanding all that has been urged against him as a disparager of the Covenanters, it is to me very doubtful whether the inspiration of chivalry ever prompted him to nobler emotions than he has lavished on the reanimation of their stern and solemn enthusiasm. This work has always appeared to me the Marmion of his novels.' He never surpassed it either for force or variety of character, or in the interest and magnificence of the train of events described. The contrasts are also managed with consummate art. In the early scenes Morton (the best of all his young heroes) serves as a foil to the fanatical and gloomy Burley, and the change effected in the character and feelings of the youth by the changing current of events, is traced with perfect skill and knowledge of human nature. The two classes of actors-the brave and dissolute cavaliers, and the resolute oppressed Covenantersare not only drawn in their strong distinguishing features in bold relief, but are separated from each other by individual traits and peculiarities, the result of native or acquired habits. The intermingling of domestic scenes and low rustic humour with the stormy events of the warlike struggle, gives vast additional effect to the sterner passages of the tale, and to the prominence of its principal actors. How admirably, for example, is the reader prepared, by contrast, to appreciate that terrible encounter with Burley in his rocky fastness, by the previous description of the blind and aged widow, intrusted with the secret of his retreat, and who dwelt alone,

The year 1818 witnessed two other coinages from the Waverley mint, Rob Roy and The Heart of MidLothian, the latter forming a second series of the Tales of My Landlord. The first of these works revived the public enthusiasm, excited by the 'Lady of the Lake' and 'Waverley,' with respect to Highland scenery and manners. The sketches in the novel are bold and striking-hit off with the careless freedom of a master, and possessing perhaps more witchery of romantic interest than elaborate and finished pictures. The character of Bailie Nicol Jarvie was one of the author's happiest conceptions, and the idea of carrying him to the wild rugged mountains, among outlaws and desperadoes--at the same time that he retained a keen relish of the comforts of the Saltmarket of Glasgow, and a due sense of his dignity as a magistrate-completed the ludicrous effect of the picture. None of Scott's novels was more popular than Rob Roy,' yet, as a story, it is the most ill-concocted and defective of the whole series. Its success was owing to its characters alone. Among these, however, cannot be reckoned its nominal hero, Osbaldiston, who, like Waverley, is merely a walking gentleman. Scott's heroes, as agents in the piece, are generally inferior to his heroines. The Heart of Mid-Lothian' is as essentially national in spirit, language, and actors, as Rob Roy,' but it is the nationality of the Lowlands. No other author but Scott (Galt, his best imitator in this department, would have failed) could have dwelt so long and with such circumstantial minuteness on the daily life and occurrences of a family like that of Davie Deans, the cowfeeder, without disgusting his high-bred readers with what must have seemed vulgar and uninteresting. Like Burns, he made rustic life and poverty'

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Grow beautiful beneath his touch.

Duchesses, in their halls and saloons, traced with interest and delight the pages that recorded the pious firmness and humble heroism of Jeanie Deans, and the sufferings and disgrace of her unfortunate sister; and who shall say that in thus uniting different ranks in one bond of fellow-feeling, and exhibiting to the high and wealthy the virtues that often dwell with the lowly and obscure, Scott was not fulfilling one of the loftiest and most sacred missions upon earth?

A story of still more sustained and overwhelming pathos is The Bride of Lammermoor, published in 1819 in conjunction with The Legend of Montrose,

tation of chivalry in all its pomp and picturesque · ness, the realisation of our boyish dreams about Coeur-de-lion, Robin Hood, and Sherwood Forest, with its grassy glades, and sylvan sports, and impenetrable foliage. We were presented with a series of the most splendid pictures, the canvass crowded with life and action-with the dark shades of cruelty, vice, and treason, and the brightness of heroic courage, dauntless fortitude, and uncorrupted faith and purity. The thrilling interest of the story is another of the merits of Ivanhoe'-the incidents all help on the narrative, as well as illustrate ancient manners. In the hall of Cedric, at the tournament or siege, we never cease to watch over the fate of Rowena and the Disinherited Knight; and the steps of the gentle Rebecca-the meek yet high-souled Jewess-are traced with still deeper and holier feel

and both forming a third series of Tales of My
Landlord. The Bride is one of the most finished
of Scott's tales, presenting a unity and entireness
of plot and action, as if the whole were bound to-
gether by that dreadful destiny which hangs over
the principal actors, and impels them irresistibly
to destruction. In this tale,' says Macaulay, 'above
other modern productions, we see embodied the dark
spirit of fatalism-that spirit which breathes in the
writings of the Greek tragedians when they traced
the persecuting vengeance of Destiny against the
houses of Laius and of Atreus. Their mantle was
for a while worn unconsciously by him who showed
to us Macbeth: and here again, in the deepening
gloom of this tragic tale, we feel the oppressive
influence of this invisible power. From the time
we hear the prophetic rhymes, the spell has begun
its work, and the clouds of misfortune blacken rounding.*
us; and the fated course moves solemnly onward,
irresistible and unerring as the progress of the sun,
and soon to end in a night of horror. We remember
no other tale in which not doubt, but certainty, forms
the groundwork of our interest.' If Shakspeare
was unconscious of the classic fatalism he depicted
with such unrivalled power, Scott was probably as
ignorant of any such premeditation and design.
Both followed the received traditions of their coun-
try, and the novelist, we know, composed his work
in intervals of such acute suffering, allayed only by
the most violent remedies, that on his recovery,
after the novel had been printed, he recollected
nothing but the mere outline of his story, with
which he had been familiar from his youth. He
had entirely forgot what he dictated from his sick-
bed. The main incident, however, was of a nature
likely to make a strong impression on his mind,
and to this we must impute the grand simplicity
and seeming completeness of art in the manage-
ment of the fable. The character of the old butler,
Caleb Balderston, has been condemned as a ridicu-
lous and incongruous exaggeration. We are not
sure that it does not materially heighten the effect
of the tragic portion of the tale, by that force of
contrast which we have mentioned as one of Scott's
highest attributes as a novelist. There is, however,
too much of the butler, and some of his inventions
are mere tricks of farce. As Shakspeare descended
to quibbles and conceits, Scott loved to harp upon
certain phrases — -as in Dominie Sampson, Bailie
Nicol Jarvie, and the dowager lady of Tullietudlem
-and to make his lower characters indulge in prac-
tical jokes, like those of old Caleb and Edie Ochil-
tree. The proverbs of Sancho, in Don Quixote,
may be thought to come under the same class of
inferior resources, to be shunned rather than copied
by the novelist who aims at truth and originality;
but Sancho's sayings are too rich and apposite to be
felt as mere surplusage. The Legend of Montrose'
is a brief imperfect historical novel, yet contains
one of the author's most lively and amusing cha-
racters, worthy of being ranked with Bailie Jarvie;
namely, the redoubted Ritt-master, Dugald Dalgetty.
The union of the soldado with the pedantic student
of Mareschal college is a conception as original as
the Uncle Toby of Sterne.

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The whole is a grand picturesque pageant yet full of a gentle nobleness and proud simplicity. The next works of Scott were of a tamer cast, though his foot was on Scottish ground. The Monas tery and Abbot, both published in 1820, are defective in plot, and the first disfigured by absurd supernatural machinery. The character of Queen Mary in the Abbot' is, however, a correct and beautiful historical portrait, and the scenery in the neighbourhood of the Tweed-haunted glens and woods-is described with the author's accustomed felicity. A counterpart to Queen Mary, still more highly finished, was soon afforded in the delineation of her great rival, Elizabeth, in the romance of Kenilworth. This work appeared in January 1821, and was ranked next to 'Ivanhoe.' There was a profusion of rich picturesque scenes and objects, dramatic situations, and a well-arranged, involved, yet interesting plot. None of the plots in the Waverley novels are without blemish. None,' as Mr Macaulay remarks, have that completeness which constitutes one of the chief merits of Fielding's Tom Jones: there is always either an improbability, or a forced expedient, or an incongruous incident, or an un pleasant break, or too much intricacy, or a hurried conclusion; they are usually languid in the com mencement, and abrupt in the close; too slowly opened, and too hastily summed up.' The spirit and fidelity of the delineations, the variety of scenes, and the interest of particular passages bearing upon the principal characters, blind the reader to these defects, at least on a first perusal. This was eminently the case with Kenilworth;' nor did this romance, amidst all its courtly gaieties, ambition, and splendour, fail to touch the heart: the fate of Amy Robsart has perhaps drawn as many tears as the story of Rebecca. The close of the same year witnessed another romantic, though less powerful tale-The Pirate. In this work Scott painted the wild sea scenery of Shetland, and gave a beautiful copy of primitive manners in the person and household of the old Udaller, Magnus Troil, and his fair daughters Minna and Brenda. The latter are flowers too delicate for such a cold and stormy clime, but they are creations of great loveliness, and are exquisitely discriminated in their individual characters. The novel altogether opened a new

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* Rebecca was considered by Scott himself, as well as by the public, to be his finest female character. Mr Laidlaw, to whom part of the novel was dictated, speaks of the strong interest which Sir Walter evinced in filling up his outline. I shall make something of my Jewess,' said he one day in a tone of unusual exultation. You will indeed,' replied his friend;

The historical romance of Ivanhoe appeared in 1820. It is the most brilliant of all his pure romances, indeed the most splendid in any literature. The scene being laid in England, and in the England of Richard I., the author had to draw largely on his fancy and invention, and was debarred those attractive auxiliaries of every-day life, speech, and manners, which had lent such a charm to his Scottish novels. Here we had the remoteness of antiquity, the old Saxon halls and feasts, the resusci-filled with tears.

and I cannot help saying that you are doing an immense good, Sir Walter, by such sweet and noble tales, for the young people now will never bear to look at the vile trash of novels that used to be in the circulating libraries. Sir Walter's eyes

world to the general reader, and was welcomed with all the zest of novelty.

Another genuine English historical romance made its appearance in May 1822. The Fortunes of Nigel afforded a complete panorama of the times of James I., executed with wonderful vigour and truth. The fulness and variety of the details show how closely Scott had studied the annals of this period, particularly all relating to the city and the court of London. His account of Alsatia surpasses even the scenes of Ben Jonson, and the dramatic contemporaries of Ben, descriptive of similar objects; and none of his historical likenesses are more faithful, more justly drawn, or more richly coloured, than his portrait of the poor, and proud, and pedantic King James. Scott's political predilections certainly did not in this case betray him into any undue reverence for sovereignty.

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In 1823 no less than three separate works of fiction were issued-Peveril of the Peak, Quentin Durward, and St Ronan's Well. The first was a volume longer than any of its predecessors, and was more than proportionally heavy in style, though evincing in parts undiminished strength and talent. Quentin Durward' was a bold and successful inroad on French history. The delineations of Louis XI. and Charles the Bold may stand comparison with any in the whole range of fiction or history for force and discrimination. They seemed literally called up to a new existence, to play their part in another drama of life, as natural and spirit-stirring as any in which they had been actors. The French nation exulted in this new proof of the genius of Scott, and led the way in enthusiastic admiration of the work. St Ronan's Well' is altogether a secondary performance of the author, though it furnishes one of his best low comic characters, Meg Dods of the Cleikum Inn. Redgauntlet (1824) must be held to belong to the same class as St Ronan's Well,' in spite of much vigorous writing, humorous as well as pathetic (for the career of Peter Peebles supplies both), and notwithstanding that it embodies a great deal of Scott's own personal history and experiences. The Tales of the Crusaders, published in 1825, comprised two short stories, The Betrothed and The Talisman, the second a highly animated and splendid Eastern romance. Shortly after this period came the calamitous wreck of Scott's fortunes-the shivering of his household gods-amidst declining health and the rapid advances of age. His novel of Woodstock (1826) was hastily completed, but is not unworthy of his fame. The secret of the paternity of the novels was now divulged-how could it ever have been doubted?and there was some satisfaction in having the acknowledgment from his own lips, and under his own hand, ere death had broken the wand of the magician. The Life of Napoleon, in nine volumes, was the great work of 1827; but at the commencement of the following year Scott published The Chronicles of the Canongate, first series, containing the Two Drovers, the Highland Widow, and the Surgeon's Daughter. The second of these short tales is the most valuable, and is pregnant with strong pathetic interest and Celtic imagination. The preliminary introductions to the stories are all finely executed, and constitute some of the most pleasing of the author's minor contributions to the elucidation of past manners and society. A number of literary tasks now engaged the attention of Scott, the most important of which were his Tales of a Grandfather, a History of Scotland for Lardner's Cyclopædia, Letters on Demonology, and new introductions and notes to the collected edition of the novels. A second series of the Chronicles of the Canongate' appeared in 1828, with only one tale, but that conceived and

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executed with great spirit, and in his best artistical style-The Fair Maid of Perth. Another romance was ready by May 1829, and was entitled Anne of Geierstein. It was less energetic than the formermore like an attempt to revive old forms and images than as evincing the power to create new ones; yet there are in its pages, as Mr Lockhart justly observes, occasional outbreaks of the old poetic spirit, more than sufficient to remove the work to an im measurable distance from any of its order produced in this country in our own age. Indeed, the various play of fancy in the combination of persons and events, and the airy liveliness of both imagery and diction, may well justify us in applying to the author what he beautifully says of his King RenéA mirthful man he was; the snows of age Fell, but they did not chill him. Gaiety, Even in life's closing, touched his teeming brain With such wild visions as the setting sun Raises in front of some hoar glacier, Painting the bleak ice with a thousand hues.'

The gaiety of Scott was the natural concomitant of kindly and gentle affections, a sound judgment, and uninterrupted industry. The minds of poets, it is said, never grow old, and Scott was hopeful to the last. Disease, however, was fast undermining his strength. His last work of fiction, published in 1831, was a fourth series of 'Tales of my Landlord,' containing Count Robert of Paris and Castle Dangerous. They were written after repeated shocks of paralysis and apoplexy, and are mere shadows of his former greatness. And with this effort closed the noble mind that had so long swayed the sceptre of romance. The public received the imperfect volumes with tenderness and indulgence, as the farewell offering of the greatest of their contemporariesthe last feeble gleams of a light soon to be extinguished

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A wandering witch-note of the distant spell;
And now 'tis silent all! Enchanter, fare thee well!

JOHN GALT.

JOHN GALT, author of The Annals of the Parish, and other novels which are valuable as reflecting back the peculiarities of Scottish life and manners sixty years since,' was a native of Irvine, in Ayrshire. He was born on the 2d of May 1779. His father commanded a West India vessel, and when the embryo novelist was in his eleventh year, the family went to live permanently at Greenock. Here Galt resided fourteen or fifteen years, displaying no marked proficiency at school, but evincing a predilection for poetry, music, and mechanics. He was placed in the custom-house at Greenock, and continued at the desk till about the year 1804, when, without any fixed pursuit, he went to London to push his fortune.' He had written a sort of epic poem on the battle of Largs, and this he committed to the press; but, conscious of its imperfections, he did not prefix his name to the work, and he almost immediately suppressed its sale. He then formed an unfortunate commercial connexion, which lasted three years, on the termination of which he entered himself of Lincoln's Inn, with the view of being in due time called to the bar. Happening to visit Oxford in company with some friends, he conceived, while standing with them in the quadrangle of Christ-church, the design of writing a life of Cardinal Wolsey. He set about the task with ardour; but his health failing, he went abroad. At Gibraltar he met with Lord Byron and Mr Hobhouse, then embarked on their tour for Greece, and the three

sailed in the same packet. Galt resided some time results.'* We next find Mr Galt engaged in the in Sicily, then repaired to Malta, and afterwards formation and establishment of the Canada Comproceeded to Greece, where he again met with pany, which involved him in a long labyrinth of Byron, and also had an interview with Ali Pacha. troubles, vexation, and embarrassment. While the After rambling for some time among the classic preliminary controversy was pending between the scenes of Greece, he proceeded to Constantinople, commissioners of this company, the Canada clergy, thence to Nicomedia, and northwards to Kirpe, on and the colonial office, previous to his departure for the shores of the Black Sea. Some commercial the scene of his new operations Galt composed his speculations, as to the practicability of landing Bri- novel, The Last of the Lairds, also descriptive of tish goods in defiance of the Berlin and Milan de- Scottish life. He set out for America in 1826, his crees, prompted these unusual wanderings. At one mission being limited to inquiry, for accomplishing time, when detained by quarantine, Galt wrote or which eight months were allowed. His duties, sketched out six dramas, which were afterwards however, were increased, and his stay prolonged, by published in a volume, constituting, according to the numerous offers to purchase lots of land, and for Sir Walter Scott, the worst tragedies ever seen.' determining on the system of management to be On his return he published his Voyages and Travels, pursued by the company. A million of capital had and Letters from the Levant, which were well received. been intrusted to his management. On the 23d of He next repaired to Gibraltar, to conduct a commer- April, St George's day, 1827, Mr Galt proceeded to cial business which it was proposed to establish found the town of Guelph, in the upper province of there, but the design was defeated by the success of Canada, which he did with due ceremony. The site the Duke of Wellington in the Peninsula. He ex- selected for the town having been pointed out, ‘a plored France to see if an opening could be found large maple tree,' he says, 'was chosen; on which, there, but no prospect appeared, and returning to taking an axe from one of the woodmen, I struck England, he contributed some dramatic pieces to the first stroke. To me, at least, the moment was the New British Theatre. One of these, The Appeal, impressive; and the silence of the woods that echoed was brought out in the Edinburgh theatre in 1818, to the sound was as the sigh of the solemn genius and performed four nights, Sir Walter Scott having of the wilderness departing for ever.' The city soon | written an epilogue for the play. He now devoted prospered in three months upwards of 160 building himself for some time to literary pursuits, writing lots were engaged, and houses rising as fast as buildin the periodical works, and residing in Scotland. ing materials could be prepared. Before the end of Among his more elaborate compositions may be the year, however, the founder of the city was em mentioned a Life of Benjamin West, the artist, His- broiled in difficulties. Some secret enemies had torical Pictures, The Wandering Jew, and The Earth- misrepresented him-he was accused of lowering the quake, a novel in three volumes. He wrote for company's stock-his expenditure was complained Blackwood's Magazine, in 1820, The Ayrshire Le- of; and the company sent out an accountant to act gatees, a series of letters containing an amusing not only in that capacity, but as cashier. Matters Scottish narrative. His next work was 'The An- came to a crisis, and Mr Galt determined to return nals of the Parish' (1821), which instantly became to England. Ample testimony has been borne to popular. It is worthy of remark that the Annals the skill and energy with which he conducted the had been written some ten or twelve years before operations of this company; but his fortune and his the date of its publication, and anterior to the ap- prospects had fled. Thwarted and depressed, he was pearance of Waverley and Guy Mannering, and that resolved to battle with his fate, and he set himself it was rejected by the publishers of those works, down in England to build a new scheme of life, 'in with the assurance, that a novel or work of fiction which the secondary condition of authorship was entirely Scottish would not take with the public! | made primary.' In six months he had six volumes Mr Galt went on with his usual ardour in the com- ready. His first work was another novel in three position of Scotch novels. He had now found where volumes, Lawrie Todd, which is equal to The Anhis strength lay, and Sir Andrew Wylie, The Entail, nals of the Parish' or The Entail.' It was well The Steam-Bout, and The Provost, were succes- received; and he soon after produced another, desively published-the two first with decided success. scriptive of the customs and manners of Scotland in These were followed at no long intervals by Ringan the reign of Queen Mary, and entitled Southennan. Gilhaize, a story of the Scottish Covenanters; by The subject was a favourite with him, but his mode The Spaewife, a tale of the times of James I. of Scot- of treating it was by no means happy; while the land; and Rothelan, a novel partly historical, founded public taste, accustomed to the historical novels of on the work by Barnes on the life and reign of Scott, was impatient of any secondary work in this Edward I. Mr Galt also published anonymously, in department. For a short time in the same year 1824, an interesting imaginative little tale, The Omen, (1830) Mr Galt conducted the Courier newspaper, which was reviewed by Sir Walter Scott in Black- but this new employment did not suit him. It rewood's Magazine. In fertility, Galt was only sur-quired more time, and incurred more responsibilities passed by Scott; and perhaps no other author could have written an equal number of works of fiction, varied in style and manner, within the same limited period. His genius was unequal, and he does not seem to have been able to discriminate between the good and the bad; but the vigour and copiousness of his mind were certainly remarkable. His friendly biographer, Dr Moir of Musselburgh, says justly, that the great drawback to Mr Galt's prosperity and happiness was the multitude of his resources, and from his being equally fitted for a student and man of the world. As the old proverb hath it, "the rolling stone gathers no fog;" so in the transition from one occupation and employment to another, he expended those powers which, if long concentrated on any particular object, must have produced great

of opinion than he was prepared for, and he gladly left the daily drudgery to complete a Life of Byron, on which he was engaged for Colburn the publisher. The comparative brevity of this memoir (one small volume), the name of Galt as its author, and the interesting nature of the subject, soon sold three or four editions of the work; but it was sharply assailed by the critics. Some of the positions taken up by the author (as that, had Byron not been possessed of genius, he might have been a better man'), and some quaintness and affectation of expression, exposed him to well-merited ridicule. Mr Galt next executed a series of Lives of the Players, an amusing

* Biographical Memoir prefixed to Galt's novels, in Blackwood's Standard Novels,

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whidder as minister of Dalmailing is admirably described :-

compilation, and Bogle Corbet, another novel, the object of which, he said, was to give a view of society generally, as The Provost' was of burgh incidents It was a great affair; for I was put in by the patron, simply, and of the sort of genteel persons who are and the people knew nothing whatsoever of me, and sometimes found among the emigrants to the United their hearts were stirred into strife on the occasion, States. Disease now invaded the robust frame of and they did all that lay within the compass of their the novelist; but he wrote on, and in a short time power to keep me out, insomuch that there was obfour other works of fiction issued from his pen-liged to be a guard of soldiers to protect the presbyStanley Burton, The Member, The Radical, and Eben tery; and it was a thing that made my heart grieve Erskine. In 1832 an affection of the spine, and an when I heard the drum beating and the fife playing attack resembling paralysis, greatly reduced Mr as we were going to the kirk. The people were really Galt, and subjected him to acute pain. Next year, mad and vicious, and flung dirt upon us as we passed, however, he was again at the press. His work was and reviled us all, and held out the finger of scorn at a tale entitled The Lost Child. He also composed a me; but I endured it with a resigned spirit, commemoir of his own life, in two volumes-a curious passionating their wilfulness and blindness. Poor ill-digested melange, but worthy of perusal. In 1834 old Mr Kilfuddy of the Braehill got such a clash of he published Literary Miscellanies, in three volumes, glaur on the side of his face, that his eye was almost dedicated to King William IV., who generously sent extinguished. a sum of £200 to the author. He returned to his native country a perfect wreck, the victim of repeated attacks of paralysis; yet he wrote several pieces for periodical works, and edited the productions of others. After severe and protracted sufferings, borne with great firmness and patience. Mr Galt died at Greenock on the 11th of April 1839.

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When we got to the kirk door, it was found to be nailed up, so as by no possibility to be opened. The sergeant of the soldiers wanted to break it, but I was afraid that the heritors would grudge and complain of the expense of a new door, and I supplicated him to let it be as it was; we were therefore obligated to go in by a window, and the crowd followed us in the most unreverent manner, making the Lord's house like an inn on a fair day with their grievous yelly-hooing. During the time of the psalm and the sermon they behaved themselves better, but when the induction came on, their clamour was dreadful; and Thomas Thorl, the weaver, a pious zealot in that time, got up and protested and said, 'Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber.' And I thought I would have a hard and sore time of it with such an outstrapolous people. Mr Given, that was then the minister of Lugton, was a jocose man, and would have his joke even at a solemnity. When the laying of the hands upon me was a-doing, he could not get near enough to put on his, but he stretched out his staff and touched my head, and said, to the great diversion of the rest, 'This will do well enough-timber to timber;' but it was an unfriendly saying of Mr Given, considering the time and the place, and the temper of my people.

After the ceremony we then got out at the window, and it was a heavy day to me; but we went to the Mrs Watts of the new inn of Irville prepared at my manse, and there we had an excellent dinner, which request, and sent her chaise-driver to serve, for he was likewise her waiter, she having then but one chaise, and that not often called for.

Of a long list of our author's works, several are already forgotten. Not a few of his novels, however, bid fair to be permanent, and the Annals of the Parish' will probably be read as long as Waverley or Guy Mannering. This inimitable little tale is the simple record of a country minister during the fifty years of his incumbency. Besides many amusing and touching incidents, the work presents us with a picture of the rise and progress of a Scottish rural village, and its transition to a manufacturing town, as witnessed by the minister, a man as simple as Abraham Adams, imbued with all old-fashioned national feelings and prejudices, but thoroughly sincere, kind-hearted, and pious. This Presbyterian worthy, the Rev. Micah Balwhidder, is a fine sentative of the primitive Scottish pastor; diligent, blameless, loyal, and exemplary in his life, but without the fiery zeal and kirk-filling eloquence' of the supporters of the Covenant. Micah is easy, garrulous, fond of a quiet joke, and perfectly ignorant of the world. Little things are great to him in his retirement and his simplicity; and thus we find him chronicling, among his memorable events, the arrival of a dancing-master, the planting of a pear-tree, the getting a new bell for the kirk, the first appearance of Punch's Opera in the country-side, and other incidents of a like nature, which But although my people received me in this unhe mixes up indiscriminately with the breaking out ruly manner, I was resolved to cultivate civility of the American war, the establishment of manufac-among them; and therefore the very next morning tures, or the spread of French revolutionary principles. Amidst the quaint humour and shrewd observation of honest Micah are some striking and pathetic incidents. Mrs Malcolm, the widow of a Clyde shipmaster, comes to settle in his village; and being a genty body, calm and methodical,' she brought up her children in a superior manner, and they all get on in the world. One of them becomes a sailor; and there are few more touching narratives in the language than the account of this cheerful gallant-hearted lad, from his first setting off to sea to his death as a midshipman, in an engagement with the French. Taken altogether, this work of Mr Galt's is invaluable for its truth and nature, its quiet unforced humour and pathos, its genuine nationality as a faithful record of Scottish feeling and manners, and its rich felicity of homely antique Scottish phrase and expression, which to his countrymen is perhaps the crowning excellence of the author.

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I began a round of visitations; but oh! it was a steep brae that I had to climb, and it needed a stout heart, for I found the doors in some places barred against me; in others, the bairns, when they saw me coming, ran crying to their mothers, Here's the feckless Mess-John;' and then, when I went in into the houses, their parents would not ask me to sit down, but with a scornful way said,Honest man, what's your pleasure here? Nevertheless, I walked about from door to door, like a dejected beggar, till I got the almous deed of a civil reception, and, who would have thought it, from no less a person than the same Thomas Thorl that was so bitter against me in the kirk on the foregoing day.

Thomas was standing at the door with his green duffle apron and his red Kilmarnock nightcap-I mind him as well as if it was but yesterday and he had seen me going from house to house, and in what manner I was rejected, and his bowels were moved, and he said to me in a kind manner, Come in, sir, and case yoursel; this will never do; the clergy are

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