to be familiar-and published, moreover, in a quarter of the island where materials and talents for novel-writing have been supposed to be equally wanting: And yet, by the mere force and truth and vivacity of its colouring, already casting the whole tribe of ordinary novels into the shade, and taking its place rather with the most popular of our modern poems, than with the rubbish of provincial romances. The secret of this success, we take it, is merely that the author is a man of Genius; and that he has, notwithstanding, had virtue enough to be true to Nature throughout; and to content himself, even in the marvellous parts of his story, with copying from actual existences, rather than from the phantasms of his own imagination. The charm which this communicates to all works that deal in the representation of human actions and character, is more readily felt than understood; and operates with unfailing efficacy even upon those who have no acquaintance with the originals from which the picture has been borrowed. It requires no ordinary talent, indeed, to choose such realities as may outshine the bright imaginations of the inventive, and so to combine them as to produce the most advantageous effect; but when this is once accomplished, the result is sure to be something more firm, impressive, and engaging, than can ever be produced by mere fiction.

days of the Heptarchy;-and when they saw the array of the West country Whigs, they might imagine themselves transported to the age of Cromwell. The effect, indeed, is almost as startling at the present moment; and one great source of the interest which the volumes before us undoubtedly possess, is to be sought in the surprise that is excited by discovering, that in our own country, and almost in our own age, manners and characters existed, and were conspicuous, which we had been accustomed to consider as belonging to remote antiquity, or extravagant romance.

The way in which they are here represent ed must satisfy every reader, we think, by an inward tact and conviction, that the delinea tion has been made from actual experience and observation;-experience and observation employed perhaps only on a few surviving rel cs and specimens of what was familiar a little earlier-but generalised from instances sufficiently numerous and complete, to warrant all that may have been added to the por trait :-And, indeed, the existing records and vestiges of the more extraordinary parts of the representation are still sufficiently abund ant, to satisfy all who have the means of consulting them, as to the perfect accuracy of the picture. The great traits of Clannish dependence, pride, and fidelity, may still be detected in many districts of the Highlands, though they do not now adhere to the chieftains when they mingle in general society; and the existing contentions of Burghers and Antiburghers, and Cameronians, though shrunk into comparative insignificance, and left, indeed, without protection to the ridicule of the profane, may still be referred to, as complete verifications of all that is here stated about Gifted Gilfillan, or Ebenezer Cruickshank. The traits of Scottish national character in the lower ranks, can still less be regarded as antiquated or traditional; nor is there any thing in the whole compass of the work which gives us a stronger impression of the nice ob

The object of the work before us, was evidently to present a faithful and animated picture of the manners and state of society that prevailed in this northern part of the island, in the earlier part of last century; and the author has judiciously fixed upon the era of the Rebellion in 1745, not only as enriching his pages with the interest inseparably attached to the narration of such occurrences, but as affording a fair opportunity for bringing out all the contrasted principles and habits which distinguished the different classes of persons who then divided the country, and formed among them the basis of almost all that was peculiar in the national character. That un-servation and graphical talent of the author, fortunate contention brought conspicuously to light, and, for the last time, the fading image of feudal chivalry in the mountains, and vulgar fanaticism in the plains; and startled the more polished parts of the land with the wild but brilliant picture of the devoted valour, incorruptible fidelity, patriarchal brotherhood, and savage habits of the Celtic Clans, on the one hand, and the dark, intractable, and domineering bigotry of the Covenanters on the other. Both aspects of society had indeed been formerly prevalent in other parts of the country, but had there been so long superseded by more peaceable habits, and milder manners, that their vestiges were almost effaced, and their very memory nearly extinguished. The feudal principalities had been destroyed in the South, for near three hundred years, and the dominion of the Puritans from the time of the Restoration. When the glens, and banded clans, of the central Highlands, therefore, were opened up to the gaze of the English, in the course of that insurrection, it seemed as if they were carried back to the

than the extraordinary fidelity and felicity with which all the inferior agents in the story are represented. No one who has not lived extensively among the lower orders of all descriptions, and made himself familiar with their various tempers and dialects, can perceive the full merit of those rapid and characteristic sketches; but it requires only a general knowledge of human nature, to feel that they must be faithful copies from known originals; and to be aware of the extraordi nary facility and flexibility of hand which has touched, for instance, with such discriminating shades, the various gradations of the Celtic character, from the savage imperturbability of Dugald Mahony, who stalks grimly about. with his battle-axe on his shoulder, without speaking a word to any one,-to the lively unprincipled activity of Callum Beg.—the coarse unreflecting hardihood and heroism of Evan Maccombich,-and the pride, gallantry, elegance, and ambition of Fergus himself. In the lower class of the Lowland characters, again, the vulgarity of Mrs. Flockhart and of

prudent resolution of returning, in the first place, to his family; but is stopped, on the borders of the Highlands, by the magistracy, whom rumours of coming events had made more than usually suspicious, and forwarded as a prisoner to Stirling. On the march he is rescued by a band of unknown Highlanders, who ultimately convey him in safety to Edinburgh, and deposit him in the hands of his friend Fergus Mac-Ivor, who was mounting guard with his Highlanders at the ancient palace of Holyrood, where the Royal Adventurer was then actually holding his court. A combination of temptations far too powerful for such a temper, now beset Waverley; and, inflamed at once by the ill-usage he thought he had received from the government-the recollection of his hereditary predilectionshis friendship and admiration of Fergus-his love for his sister-and the graceful condescension and personal solicitations of the unfortunate Prince,-he rashly vows to unite his fortunes with theirs, and enters as a volunteer in the ranks of the Children of Ivor.

Lieutenant Jinker is perfectly distinct and barbarous but captivating characters. This original-as well as the puritanism of Gilfil- chief is Fergus Vich Ian Vohr-a gallant and lan and Cruickshank-the atrocity of Mrs. ambitious youth, zealously attached to the Mucklewrath and the slow solemnity of cause of the exiled family, and busy, at the Alexander Saunderson. The Baron of Brad- moment, in fomenting the insurrection, by wardine, and Baillie Macwheeble, are carica- which his sanguine spirit never doubted that tures no doubt, after the fashion of the carica- their restoration was to be effected. He has tures in the novels of Smollet,-or pictures, at a sister still more enthusiastically devoted to the best, of individuals who must always have the same cause-recently returned from a rebeen unique and extraordinary: but almost sidence at the Court of France, and dazzling all the other personages in the history are fair the romantic imagination of Waverley not less representatives of classes that are still exist- by the exaltation of her sentiments, than his ing, or may be remembered at least to have eyes by her elegance and beauty. While he existed, by many whose recollections do not lingers in this perilous retreat, he is suddenly extend quite so far back as to the year 1745. deprived of his commission, in consequence Waverley is the representative of an old and of some misunderstandings and misrepresenopulent Jacobite family in the centre of Eng- tations which it is unnecessary to detail; and land-educated at home in an irregular man- in the first heat of his indignation, is almost ner, and living, till the age of majority, mostly tempted to throw himself into the array of in the retirement of his paternal mansion- the Children of Ivor, and join the insurgents, where he reads poetry, feeds his faucy with whose designs are no longer seriously disguis romantic musings, and acquires amiable dis-ed from him. He takes, however, the more positions, and something of a contemplative, passive, and undecided character. All the English adherents of the abdicated family having renounced any serious hopes of their cause long before the year 1745, the guardians of young Waverley were induced, in that celebrated year, to allow him to enter into the army, as the nation was then engaged in foreign war-and a passion for military glory had always been characteristic of his line. He obtains a commission, accordingly, in a regiment of horse, then stationed in Scotland, and proceeds forthwith to head-quarters. Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Esq., of Tully-Veolan in Perthshire, had been an ancient friend of the house of Waverley, and had been enabled, by their good offices, to get over a very awkward rencontre with the King's AttorneyGeneral soon after the year 1715. The young heir was accordingly furnished with credentials to this faithful ally; and took an early opportunity of paying his respects at the ancient mansion of Tully-Veolan. The house and its inhabitants, and their way of life, are admirably described. The Baron himself During his attendance at the court of Holyhad been bred a lawyer; and was, by choice, rood, his passion for the magnanimous Flora a diligent reader of the Latin classics. His is gradually abated by her continued indifferprofession, however, was that of arms; and ence, and too entire devotion to the public having served several campaigns on the Con- cause; and his affections gradually decline tinent, he had superadded, to the pedantry upon Miss Bradwardine, who has leisure for and jargon of his forensic and academical less important concernments. He accomstudies, the technical slang of a German mar- panies the Adventurer's army, and signalises tinet-and a sprinkling of the coxcombry of a himself in the battle of Preston,-where he French mousquetaire. He was, moreover, has the good fortune to save the life of an prodigiously proud of his ancestry; and, with English officer, who turns out to be an intiall his peculiarities, which, to say the truth, mate friend of his family, and remonstrates are rather more than can be decently accu- with him with considerable effect on the rash mulated in one character, was a most honour-step he has taken. It is now impossible, able, valiant, and friendly person. He had one fair daughter, and no more-who was gentle, feminine, and affectionate. Waverley, though struck at first with the strange manners of this northern baron, is at length domesticated in the family; and is led, by curiosity, to pay a visit to the cave of a famous Highland robber or freebooter, from which he is conducted to the castle of a neighbouring chieftain, and sees the Highland life in all its

however, he thinks, to recede with honour; and he pursues the disastrous career of the invaders into England-during which he quarrels with, and is again reconciled to Fergus-till he is finally separated from his corps in the confusion and darkness of the nightskirmish at Clifton-and, after lurking for some time in concealment, finds his way to London, where he is protected by the grateful friend whose life he had saved at Preston,

"The party preserved silence, interrupted only by the monotonous and murmured chant of a Gaelic song, sung in a kind of low recitative by the steersseemed to regulate, as they dipped to them in caman, and by the dash of the oars, which the notes dence. The light, which they now approached more nearly, assumed a broader, redder, and more irregular splendour. It appeared plainly to be a large fire; but whether kindled upon an island or the mainland, Edward could not determine. As he saw it, the red glaring orb seemed to rest on the very surface of the lake itself, and resembled the fiery vehicle in which the Evil Genius of an oriental

and sent back to Scotland till some arrangements could be made about his pardon. Here he learns the final discomfiture of his former associates-is fortunate enough to obtain both his own pardon, and that of old Bradwardine -and, after making sure of his interest in the heart of the young lady, at last bethinks him of going to give an account of himself to his family at Waverley-Honour.-In his way, he attends the assizes at Carlisle, where all his efforts are ineffectual to avert the fate of his gallant friend Fergus-whose heroic demean-tale traverses land and sea. They approached our in that last extremity, is depicted with nearer; and the light of the fire sufficed to show great feeling;-has a last interview with the that it was kindled at the bottom of a huge dark crag desolated Flora-obtains the consent of his or rock, rising abruptly from the very edge of the friends to his marriage with Miss Bradwar-red, formed a strange and even awful contrast to water; its front, changed by the reflection to dusky dine-puts the old Baron in possession of his the banks around, which were from time to time forfeited manor, and, in due time, carries his faintly and partially enlightened by pallid moonlight, blooming bride to the peaceful shades of his own paternal abode.

The boat now neared the shore, and Edward could discover that this large fire was kindled in Such is the outline of the story;-although the lake seemed to advance; and he conjectured, the jaws of a lofty cavern, into which an inlet from it is broken and diversified with so many sub- which was indeed true, that the fire had been kinordinate incidents, that what we have now dled as a beacon to the boatmen on their return. given, will afford but a very inadequate idea They rowed right for the mouth of the cave; and even of the narrative part of the performance. then shipping their oars, permitted the boat to enter Though that narrative is always lively and with the impulse which it had received. The skiff passed the little point, or platform of rock on which easy, the great charm of the work consists, the fire was blazing, and running about two boars' undoubtedly, in the characters and descrip-length farther, stopped where the cavern, for it was tions-though we can scarcely venture to present our readers with more than a single specimen; and we select, as one of the most characteristic, the account of Waverley's night visit to the cave of the Highland freebooter.

"In a short time, he found himself on the banks of a large river or lake, where his conductor gave him to understand they must sit down for a little while. The moon, which now began to rise, showed obscurely the expanse of water which spread before them, and the shapeless and indistinct forms of mountains, with which it seemed to be surrounded. The cool, and yet mild air of the summer night, refreshed Waverley after his rapid and toilsome walk; and the perfume which it wafted from the birch trees, bathed in the evening dew, was exquisitely fragrant.

"He had now time to give himself up to the full romance of his situation. Here he sat on the banks of an unknown lake, under the guidance of a wild native, whose language was unknown to him, on a visit to the den of some renowned outlaw, a second Robin Hood perhaps, or Adam o' Gordon, and that at deep midnight, through scenes of difficulty and toil, separated from his attendant, and left by his guide.

While wrapt in these dreams of imagination, his companion gently touched him, and pointing in a direction nearly straight across the lake, said, 'Yon's ta cove.' A small point of light was seen to twinkle in the direction in which he pointed, and, gradually increasing in size and lustre, seemed to flicker like a meteor upon the verge of the horizon. While Edward watched this phenomenon, the distant dash of oars was heard. The measured splash arrived near and more near; and presently a loud whistle was heard in the same direction. His friend with the battle-axe immediately whistled clear and shrill, in reply to the signal; and a boat, manned with four or five Highlanders, pushed for a little inlet, near which Edward was seated. He advanced to meet them with his attendant; was immediately assisted into the boat by the officious attention of two stout mountaineers; and had no sooner seated himself, than they resumed their oars, and began to row across the lake with great rapidity.

already arched overhead, ascended from the water by five or six broad ledges of rock, so easy and regular that they might be termed natural steps. flung upon the fire, which sunk with a hissing noise, At this moment, a quantity of water was suddenly and with it disappeared the light it had hitherto afforded. Four or five active arms lifted Waverley out of the boat, placed him on his feet, and almost carried him into the recesses of the cave. He made a few paces in darkness, guided in this manner; and advancing towards a hum of voices, which seemed to sound from the centre of the rock, at an acute turn Donald Bean Lean and his whole establishment were before his eyes.

"The interior of the cave, which here rose very high, was illuminated by torches made of pine-tree. which emitted a bright and bickering light, attended by a strong, though not unpleasant odour. Their light was assisted by the red glare of a large charcoal fire, round which were seated five or six armed Highlanders, while others were indistinctly seen couched on their plaids, in the more remote recesses of the cavern. In one large aperture, which the robber facetiously called his spence (or pantry), there hung by the heels the carcases of a sheep or ewe, and two cows, lately slaughtered.

Being placed at a convenient distance from the charcoal fire, the heat of which the season rendered oppressive, a strapping Highland damsel placed before Waverley, Evan, and Donald Bean, three cogues, or wooden vessels, composed of staves and hoops, containing imrigh, a sort of strong soup made out of a particular part of the inside of the beeves. After this refreshment, which, though coarse, fatigue and hunger rendered palatable, steaks, roasted on the coals, were supplied in liberal abundance, and disappeared before Evan Dhu and their host with a promptitude that seemed like magic, and astonished Waverley, who was much puzzled to reconcile their voracity with what he had heard of the abstemiousness of the Highlanders.A heath pallet, with the flowers stuck uppermost, had been prepared for him in a recess of the cave; and here, covered with such spare plaids as could be mustered, he lay for some time watching the motions of the other inhabitants of the cavern. Small parties of two or three entered or left the place without any other ceremony than a few words in Gaelic to the principal outlaw, and when he fell

asleep, to a tall Highlander who acted as his lieuten-ly arranged, and to which she now added a few ant, and seemed to keep watch during his repose. bunches of cranberries, gathered in an adjacent moThose who entered, seemed to have returned from rass. Having had the satisfaction of seeing him some excursion, of which they reported the success, seated at breakfast, she placed herself demurely and went without farther ceremony to the larder, upon a stone at a few yards' distance, and appeared where cutting with their dirks their rations from to watch with great complacency for some opporthe carcases which were there suspended, they pro- tunity of serving him. ceeded to broil and eat them at their own time and leisure.

(March, 1817.)

Tales of My Landlord, collected and arranged by Jedediah Cleishbotham, Schoolmaster and Parish Clerk of the Parish of Gandercleugh. 4 vols. 12mo. Edinburgh: 1816.

ing dull and uninteresting to the votaries of these more seductive studies. Among the most popular of these popular productions that have appeared in our times, we must rank the works to which we just alluded; and we do not hesitate to say, that they are well entitled to that distinction. They are indeed, in many respects, very extraordinary performances-though in nothing more extraordinary than in having remained so long unclaimed. There is no name, we think. in our literature, to which they would not add lustre

THIS, we think, is beyond all question a new coinage from the mint which produced Waverley, Guy Mannering, and the Antiquary: -For though it does not bear the legend and superscription of the Master on the face of the pieces, there is no mistaking either the quality of the metal or the execution of the die-and even the private mark, we doubt not, may be seen plain enough, by those who know how to look for it. It is quite impossible to read ten pages of this work, in short, without feeling that it belongs to the same school with those very remarkable produc--and lustre, too, of a very enviable kind; tions; and no one who has any knowledge of nature, or of art, will ever doubt that it is an original. The very identity of the leading characters in the whole set of stories, is a stronger proof, perhaps, that those of the last series are not copied from the former, than even the freshness and freedom of the draperies with which they are now invested-or the ease and spirit of the new groups into which they are here combined. No imitator would have ventured so near his originals, and yet come off so entirely clear of them: And we are only the more assured that the old acquaintances we continually recognise in these volumes, are really the persons they pretend to be, and no false mimics, that we recollect so perfectly to have seen them before, or at least to have been familiar with some of their near relations!

for they not only show great talent, but infinite good sense and good nature,-a more vigorous and wide-reaching intellect than is often displayed in novels, and a more powerful fancy, and a deeper sympathy with va rious passion, than is often combined with such strength of understanding.

The author, whoever he is, has a truly graphic and creative power in the invention and delineation of characters - which he sketches with an ease, and colours with a brilliancy, and scatters about with a profusion, which reminds us of Shakespeare himself: Yet with all this force and felicity in the representation of living agents, he has the eye of a poet for all the striking aspects external of nature; and usually contrives. both in his scenery and in the groups with which it is enlivened, to combine the picturWe have often been astonished at the esque with the natural, with a grace that has quantity of talent-of invention, observation, rarely been attained by artists so copious and and knowledge of character, as well as of rapid. His narrative, in this way, is kept conspirited and graceful composition, that may stantly full of life, variety, and colour; and be found in those works of fiction in our lan- is so interspersed with glowing descriptions. guage, which are generally regarded as and lively allusions, and flying traits of saamong the lower productions of our litera-gacity and pathos, as not only to keep our ture,-upon which no great pains is under- attention continually awake, but to afford a stood to be bestowed, and which are seldom pleasing exercise to most of our other faculregarded as titles to a permanent reputation. ties. The prevailing tone is very gay and If Novels, however, are not fated to last as pleasant; but the author's most remarkable. long as Epic poems, they are at least a great and, perhaps, his most delightful talent, is deal more popular in their season; and, slight that of representing kindness of heart in union as their structure, and imperfect as their fin- with lightness of spirits and great simplicity ishing may often be thought in comparison, of character, and of bending the expression we have no hesitation in saying, that the better of warm and generous and exalted affections specimens of the art are incomparably more with scenes and persons that are in themselves entertaining, and considerably more instruc- both lowly and ludicrous. This gift he shares tive. The great objection to them, indeed, is, with his illustrious countryman Burns—as he that they are too entertaining-and are so does many of the other qualities we have pleasant in the reading, as to be apt to pro- mentioned with another living poet,-who is duce a disrelish for other kinds of reading, only inferior perhaps in that to which we have which may be more necessary, and can in last alluded. It is very honourable indeed, no way be made so agreeable. Neither sci- we think, both to the author, and to the readers ence, nor authentic history, nor political nor among whom he is so extremely popular, that professional instruction, can be rightly con- the great interest of his pieces is for the most veyed, we fear, in a pleasant tale; and, there-part a Moral interest-that the concern we fore, all those things are in danger of appear-take in his favourite characters is less on ac