it not very like a bloody crown upon a pale brow? I will take one of them in my hand, too, Caius; and methinks I shall not disgrace myself when I look upon it, even though Trajan should be frowning upon

me.'

I had not the heart to interrupt her; but heard silently all she said, and I thought she said the words quickly and eagerly, as if she feared to be interrupted. The old priest came into the chamber while she was yet speaking so, and said very composedly, Come, my dear child, our friend has sent again for us, and the soldiers have been waiting already some space, who are to convey us to the Palatine. Come, children, we must part for a moment-perhaps it may be but for a moment-and Valerius may remain here till we return to him. Here, at least, dear Caius, you shall

have the earliest tidings and the surest.'

The good man took Athanasia by the hand, and she, smiling now at length more serenely than ever, said only, Farewell then, Caius, for a little moment!' And so, drawing her veil over her face, she passed away from before me, giving, I think, more support to the ancient Aurelius than in her turn she received from him. I began to follow them, but the priest

waved his hand as if to forbid me. The door closed after them, and I was alone.

Adam Blair,' or, as the title runs, Some Passages in the Life of Mr Adam Blair, Minister of the Gospel at Cross-Meikle, is a narrative of the fall of a Scottish minister from the purity and dignity of the pastoral character, and his restoration, after a season of deep penitence and contrition, to the duties of his sacred profession, in the same place which had formerly witnessed his worth and usefulness. The unpleasant nature of the story, and a certain tone of exaggeration and sentimentalism in parts of it, render the perusal of the work somewhat painful and disagreeable, and even of doubtful morality. But Adam Blair' is powerfully written, with an accurate conception of Scottish feeling and character, and passages of description equal to any in the author's other works. The tender-hearted enthusiastic minister of Cross-Meikle is hurried on to his downfall by fate and metaphysical aid,' and never appears in the light of a guilty person; while his faithful elder, John Maxwell, and his kind friends at Semplehaugh, are just and honourable representatives of the good old

on the main coast of the Palatinate, and then pursued their course leisurely through a rich and level country, until the groves of Grypherwast received them amidst all the breathless splendour of a noble sunset. It would be difficult to express the emotions with which young Reginald regarded, for the first time, the ancient demesne of his race. The scene was one which a stranger, of years and experience very superior to his, might have been pardoned for contemplating with some enthusiasm; but to him the first glimpse of the venerable front, embosomed amidst its

'Old contemporary trees,'

was the more than realisation of cherished dreams.

Involuntarily he drew in his rein, and the whole party as involuntarily following the motion, they approached the gateway together at the slowest pace. for the hall of Grypherwast had been reared long The gateway is almost in the heart of the village, of dignity to have no humble roofs near their own. before English gentlemen conceived it to be a point A beautiful stream runs hard by, and the hamlet is almost within the arms of the princely forest, whose ancient oaks, and beeches, and gigantic pine-trees darken and ennoble the aspect of the whole surroundherds in those deep and grassy glades, the fishermen, ing region. The peasantry, who watch the flocks and who draw their subsistence from the clear waters of the river, and the woodmen, whose axes resound all day long among the inexhaustible thickets, are the sole inhabitants of the simple place. Over their cottages the hall of Grypherwast has predominated for many long centuries, a true old northern manorhouse, not devoid of a certain magnificence in its general aspect, though making slender pretensions to anything like elegance in its details. The central tower, square, massy, rude, and almost destitute of windows, recalls the knightly and troubled period of the old Border wars; while the overshadowing roofs, carved balconies, and multifarious chimneys scattered over the rest of the building, attest the successive influence of many more or less tasteful generations. Excepting in the original baronial tower, the upper parts of the house are all formed of oak, but this with such an air of strength and solidity as might well shame many modern structures raised of better materials. Nothing could be more perfectly in harmony with the whole character of the place than the 'Reginald Dalton' is the most extended of Mr autumnal brownness 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 injecting edges of the old-fashioned bay-windows which England, and we have a full account of college life in Oxford, where Reginald, the hero, is educated, and where he learns to imbibe port, if not prejudice. The dissipation and extravagance of the son almost ruin his father, an English clergyman; and some scenes of distress and suffering consequent on this misconduct are related with true and manly feeling. Reginald joins in the rows and quarrels of the gownsmen (which are described at considerable length, and with apparently complete knowledge of similar scenes), but he has virtue enough left to fall in love; and the scene where he declares his passion to the fair Helen Hesketh is one of the most interesting and beautiful in the book. A duel, an elopement, the subtlety and craft of lawyers, and the final succession of Reginald to the patrimony of his ancestors, supply the usual excitement for novel readers; but much of this machinery is clumsily managed, and the value of the book consists in its pictures of English modern manners, and in its clear and manly tone of thought and style. The following is a description of an ancient English mansion:--

Scotch rural classes.

They halted to bait their horses at a little village

they sheltered; and some rooks of very old family were cawing overhead almost in the midst of the hospitable smoke-wreaths. Within a couple of yards from the door of the house an eminently respectablelooking old man, in a powdered wig and very rich livery of blue and scarlet, was sitting on a garden chair with a pipe in his mouth, and a cool tankard within his reach upon the ground.

The tale of Matthew Wald is related in the first person, and the hero experiences a great variety of fortune. He is not of the amiable or romantic school, and seems to have been adopted (in the manner of Godwin) merely as a medium for portraying strong passions and situations in life. The story of Matthew's first love, and some of the episodical narratives of the work, are interesting and ably written. There is also much worldly shrewdness and observation evinced in the delineation of some of the scenes and characters; but on the whole, it is the poorest of Mr Lockhart's novels. The awkward improbable manner in which the events are brought about, and the carelessness and inelegance of the language in many places, are remarkable in a writer of critical

habits and high attainments as a scholar. Mr The successive bereavements and afflictions of MarLockhart, we suspect, like Sheridan, requires time garet Lyndsay are little relieved by episode or 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 depicted. In many parts of the tale we are reminded of the affecting pictures of Crabbe-so true to human nature, so heart-rending in their reality and their grief. Of this kind is the description of the removal of the Lyndsays from their rural dwelling to one of the close lanes of the city, which is as natural and as truly pathetic as any scene in modern fiction:

Mr Lockhart is a native of the city of Glasgow, son of the late Rev. John Lockhart, minister of the College Church. He was educated at the university of his native city, and, in consequence of his superiority in his classes, was selected as one of the two students whom Glasgow college sends annually to Oxford, in virtue of an endowment named 'Snell's Foundation.' Having taken his degree, Mr Lockhart 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 beloved. 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 over 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 octained. In 1820 he was married to Sophia, the eld-curred, some accidental, and more in the unwillingest daughter of Sir Walter Scott, a lady who posness of their hearts to take a final farewell. A neighsessed much of the conversational talent, the unaf- bour had lent his cart for the flitting, and it was now 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 reside as successor to Mr Gifford in the editorship of the Quarterly Review.

PROFESSOR WILSON.

away her tame pigeon in her bosom. Just as Margaret lingered on the threshold, the Robin Redbreast, that had been their boarder for several winters, and turned up its merry eyes to her face. There,' hopped upon the stone seat at the side of the door, said she, is your last crumb from us, sweet Roby, but there is a God who takes care o' us a'. The widow had by this time shut down the lid of her memory, and left all the hoard of her thoughts and

The assembled group of neighbours, mostly mothers, with their children in their arms, had given the 'God bless you, Alice, God bless you, Margaret, and the lave, and began to disperse; each turning to her own says would either be forgotten, or thought on with cares and anxieties, in which, before night, the Lyndthat unpainful sympathy which is all the poor can afford or expect, but which, as in this case, often yields the fairest fruits of charity and love.

borrowed peats, was now out, the shutters closed, the door was locked, and the key put into the hand of the 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 comthree 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 rich structure of language, which fixed upon the author of the Isle of Palms the title of a Lake Poet, may be seen in all his tales. The first of these appeared in 1822, under the name of Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life; a Selection from the Papers of the late Arthur Austin. This volume consists of twentyfour short tales, three of which (The Elder's Funeral, The Snow-Storm, and The Forgers) had pre-feelings, joyful or despairing, buried in darkness. viously been published in Blackwood's Magazine. Most of them are tender and pathetic, and relate to Scottish rural and pastoral life. The innocence, simplicity, and strict piety of ancient manners are described as still lingering in our vales; but, with a fine spirit of homely truth and antique Scriptural phraseology, the author's scenes and characters are too Arcadian to be real. His second work, The Trials of Margaret Lyndsay (one volume, 1823), is 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 flittings, 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 a bare and hungry tress of this man's innocent family are related with house. much pathos. Margaret, the eldest daughter, endeavours to maintain the family by keeping a school; one of her brothers goes to sea, and Margaret forms an attachment to a sailor, the shipmate of her brother, who is afterwards drowned by the upsetting of a boat in the Firth of Forth. Sorrows and disasters continually accumulate on the amiable heroine. Her fortitude is put to a series of severe trials, and though it is impossible to resist the mournful interest of the story, we feel that the author has drawn too largely on the sympathies of his readers, and represented the path of virtuous duty in far too melancholy and oppressive a light.

*

The cart stopped at the foot of a lane too narrow to admit the wheels, and also too steep for a laden horse. Two or three of their new neighbours-persons in the very humblest condition, coarsely and negligently dressed, but seemingly kind and decent people came out from their houses at the stopping of the cart-wheels, and one of them said, Ay, ay, here's the flitting, I'se warrant, frae Braehead. Is that you, Mrs Lyndsay? Hech, sers, but you've gotten a nasty cauld wet day for coming into Auld Reekie, as you kintra folks ca' Embro. Hae ye had ony tidings, say ye, o' your gudeman since he gaed aff wi' that limmer? Dool be wi' her and a' sic like.' Alice replied

kindly to such questioning, for she knew it was not meant unkindly. The cart was soon unladen, and the furniture put into the empty room. A cheerful fire was blazing, and the animated and interested faces of the honest folks who crowded into it, on a slight acquaintance, unceremoniously and curiously, but without rudeness, gave a cheerful welcome to the new dwelling. In a quarter of an hour the beds were laid down the room decently arranged-one and all of the neighbours said, 'Gude night,' and the door was closed upon the Lyndsays in their new dwelling.

He has edited Gilpin's Forest Scenery, and Sir Uvedale Price's Essays on the Picturesque, adding much new matter to each; and he was commissioned to write a memorial of her Majesty Queen Victoria's visit to Scotland in 1842. A complete knowledge of his native country, its scenery, people, history, and antiquities-a talent for picturesque delineation and a taste for architecture, landscape-gardening, and its attendant rural and elegant pursuits, distinguish this author.

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 worshipped God in a hymn, Esther's sweet voice leading the sacred melody, and they knelt together in prayer. It has been beautifully said by one whose works 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!

He, like the world, his ready visit pays

Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes; Swift on his downy pinions flies from wo, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear. Not so did sleep this night forsake the wretched. He came like moonlight into the house of the widow and the fatherless, and, under the shadow of his wings, their souls lay in oblivion of all trouble, or perhaps solaced even with delightful dreams.

scenes and adventures strongly impressed with truth and reality. Some of the foreign scenes in this work are very vividly drawn. It was the production of the late THOMAS HAMILTON, Esq., who visited Ame

new world, entitled Men and Manners in America, 1833. Mr Hamilton was one of the many travellers who disliked the peculiar customs, the democratic government, and social habits of the Americans; and he spoke his mind freely, but apparently in a spirit of truth and candour.

In 1828 a good imitation of the style of Galt was published by MR MOIR of Musselburgh, under the title of The Life of Mansie Waugh, Tailor in Dalkeith. Parts of this amusing autobiography had previously appeared in Blackwood's Magazine, and it was much relished for its quaint simplicity, shrewdness, and exhibition of genuine Scottish character.

In 1824 Mr Wilson published another but inferior story, The Foresters. It certainly is a singular and interesting feature in the genius of an 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 Malhappy or so enthusiastic as when expatiating on theory, 1823. They are clever irregular works, touchjoys and sorrows of his humble countrymen in the sequestered and unambitious walks of life.

Various other novels issued about this time from the Edinburgh press. MRS JOHNSTONE published anonymously Clan Albyn (1815), a tale written before the appearance of Waverley, and approaching that work in the romantic glow which it casts over Highland character and scenery. Mrs Grant of Laggan (a highly competent authority) has borne testimony to the correctness of the Highland descriptions in Clan Albyn.' A second novel, Elizabeth de Bruce, was published by Mrs Johnstone in 1827, containing happy sketches of familiar Scottish life. This lady is also authoress of some interesting tales for children, The Diversions of Hollycot, The Nights of the Round Table, &c. and is also an extensive contributor to the periodical literature of the day. Her style is easy and elegant, and her writings are marked by good sense and a richly cultivated mind.

SIR THOMAS DICK LAUDER, Bart., has written two novels connected with Scottish life and history, Lochandhu, 1825, and The Wolf of Badenoch, 1827. In 1830 Sir Thomas wrote an interesting account of the Great Floods in Morayshire, which happened in the autumn of 1829. He was then a resident among the romantic scenes of this unexampled inundation, and has described its effects with great picturesqueness and beauty, and with many homely and pathetic episodes relative to the suffering people. Sir Thomas has also published a series of Highland Rambles, much inferior to his early novels, though abounding, like them, in striking descriptions of natural scenery.

ing on modern events and living characters, and discussing various political questions which then engaged attention. Pen Owen' is the superior novel, and contains some good humour and satire on Welsh genealogy and antiquities. Dr Hook wrote several political pamphlets, sermons, and charges.

ANDREW PICKEN was born at Paisley in the year 1788. He was the son of a manufacturer, and brought up to a mercantile life. He was engaged in business for some time in the West Indies, afterwards in a bank in Ireland, in Glasgow, and in Liverpool. At the latter place he established himself as a bookseller, but was unsuccessful, chiefly through some speculations entered into at that feverish period, which reached its ultimatum in the panic of 1826. Mr Picken then went to London to pursue literature as a profession. While resident in Glasgow, he published his first work, Tales and Sketches of the West of Scotland, which gave offence by some satirical portraits, but was generally esteemed for its local fidelity and natural painting. His novel of The Sectarian; or the Church and the Meeting-House, three volumes, 1829, displayed more vigorous and concentrated powers; but the subject was unhappy, and the pictures which the author drew of the dissenters, representing them as selfish, hypocritical, and sordid, irritated a great body of the public. Next year Mr Picken made a more successful appearance. The Dominie's Legacy, three volumes, was warmly welcomed by novel readers, and a second edition was called for by the end of the year. This work consists of a number of Scottish stories (like Mr Carleton's Irish Tales), some humorous and some pathe