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What a difference, James, between the din of twenty little waterfalls, that absolutely seem pursuing one another away down the glen, and as many hackney coaches jolting along a street! A composure in all faces and figures that you meet going out to work or coming in from it—or sitting or walking about the house! Quiet without dulness—without languor-peace! There the gloaming is indeed pensive-each star as it rises sparkles contentment-and the moon is felt to belong more especially to this one valley, most beautiful of all the valleys of this earth. Not an action of all my life-not a word I ever uttered---not a tale, or poem, or article, or book in two, three, or four volumes, that I ever wrote--not one of all the panegyrics, anathemas, blessings, curses, prayers, oaths, vows, and protestations, ever pronounced, denounced, and announced anent me, known to one single dweller in all the vale ! There am I strictly anonymous. That crutch is as the crutch of any ordinary rheumatic-and I, James, have the unspeakable satisfaction of feeling myself a Cypher.
What are ye hummin' at, sir. You're no gaun to sing ?
Some auld fragmentary strain, remindin' him, nae doubt, o' joys and sorrows lang ago! He has a pathetic vice—but sing what tune he may, it still slides awa' into Stroud-water.
Oh, James ! a dream of the olden time
Huts! huts! I wush you maunna be gettin' rather a wee fuddled-sir hafflins fou—Preserve me, are ye greetin'? The whusky's maist terrible strong -and I suspect has never been chrissened. It's time we be aff. Oh! what some o' them he has knowted wud gie to see him in this condition !, But there's the wheels o' the cotch. Or is't a fire-engine?
(Enter AMBROSE to announce the arrival of the coach.) Dinna look at him, Mr Ambrose-he's gotten the toothach-and likewise some ingon in his een. This is aye the way wi' him noo-he fa’s aff a' on a sudden—and begins greetin' at naething, or at things that's raither amusin' as itherwise. There's mony thousan' ways ógettin' fou—and I ken nae mair philosophical employment, than, in sic cityations, the study o' the varieties o’ human character.
Pardon, Father—'twas but a jeest. I've kent you noo the better pairt o’
twenty years—and never saw I thae bricht een—that bricht brain obscuredfor, wi' a' our daffin'-our weel-timed daffin'-our dulce est desipere in loco, that's Latin, you ken-we return to our hame, or our lodgings, as sober as Quakers—and as peacefu', too,-weel-wishers, ane and a', to the hail human race-even the verra Whugs.
NORTH. Sometimes, my dear Shepherd, my life from eighteen to twenty-four is an utter blank, like a moonless midnight-at other times, oh! what a refulgent day! Had you known me then, James, you would
No hae liked you half as weel's I do noo--for then, though you was dootless tall and straucht as a tree, and able and willin' baith to fecht man, doug, or deevil, wi' een, tongue, feet, or hauns, yet, as dootless, you was prooder nor Lucifer. But noo that you're bent down no that muckle, just awee, and your “ lyart haffits wearing thin and bare,” sae pleesant, sae cheerfu', sae fu’ o'allooances for the fauts and frailties o' your fellow-creturs, provided only they proceed na frae a bad heart—it's just perfeckly impossible no to love the wise, merry auld man
James, I wish to consult you and Mr Ambrose about the propriety and prudence of my marrying
Never heed ye propriety and prudence, sir, in mairrying, ony mair than ither folk. Mairry her, sir—mairry her—and I'll be godfather--for the predestined mither oʻhim will be an Episcopaulian-to wee Christopher.
NORTH. As the Reis Effendi well observes to the interpreters of the Three Powers we must not name a child till we have ascertained its sex.—But, Ambrose, open the Ear of Dionysius.
(MR AMBROSE opens a secret door, and flings it open.) Mr Gurney—the short-haun writer! Dinna be frighted, sir. What a cozy contrivance ! A green-baized table o' his ain-twa wax cawnles—a nice wee bit ingle-and a gae big Jug!
Not a whisper, James, that Mr Gurney does not catch. I will explain the principle to you at our first leisure. You know the Elements of Acoustics?
Cow-steeks,-Cow's horns. What do you mean? Let me try your toddy, Mr Gurney. Oh, man! but it's strong. "Good night, sir ; dinna steer till ye extend. Come awa', Mr North-Awmrose, rax him ower the crutch.
What a hobbletehoy I am, James-Allons. But hark ye, James—are you the author of the “Relief Meeting ?” No? I wish I knew how to direct a letter to him about his excellent article. Let us off to Southside-and sup with Tickler.
GLEE,-For Three Voices.
Fall de rall de,
[Exeunt Ambo et Ambrose.
Printed by Ballantyne and Company, Edinburgh.
Contents. FrithioF-A Swedish Poem, By Esais TEGNER, BISHOP OF WExio, 137 BURNING OF INDIAN Widows,
161 HYMN TO HESPERUS, BY A,
165 LETTER FROM A WHIQ-HATER,
178 LETTERS FROM THE PENINSULA. No. II. THE BATTLE OF VITTORIA, 183 MR WILMOT HORTON AND EMIGRATION,
194 INCLOSURE BIlks,
195 THE COUNTRY BANKS AND THE BANK OF ENGLAND. No. II.
197 The SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR. CLASS IX. FAIRIBS, BROWNIES, AND Witches. BY THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD,
214 CHAPTERS ON CHURCHYARDS. CHAPs. XIV. AND XV. ANDREW CLEAVES, 228 MINCED-Pie. A CHRISTMAS CAROL. To Miss S,
252 PostSCRIPT DICTATED ON THE SPUR OF THE OCCASION TO A Printer's
Devil, IN AMBROSE'S, ON THE EVENING OF MONDAY THE 81ST OF JA-
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, No. 17, PRINCE'S STREET, EDINBURGH ;
AND T. CADELL, STRAND, LONDON ;
To whom Communications (post paid) may be addressed.
PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND CO. EDINBURGH.
Had the Foreign Quarterly Review* which Gray's and other translations no other claim upon the gratitude of Runic rhyme met with in a counand good-will of the reading public, try to whose inhabitants they must, it might, perhaps, safely found one but for some such unsuspected assoon having drawn its attention, by a ciations, have spoken a language both lofty, though by no means exaggera, uncouth and unintelligible. ted, encomium, to the beautiful Swe. The specimens of northern poetry dish poem of “ Frithioff;” which, no hitherto presented to the English readlonger locked up, as it unfortunately er, have been chiefly of that fierce and was, in its own soft yet sonorous dia- gloomy character, which, pervading lect, from all save its native Scandi. as it does both the history and mythonavians, has lately afforded, in more logy of Scandinavia, is, nevertheless, than one German translation, a high sometimes relieved—and with tenfold treat to the kindred imagination and effect, from the very power of confeelings of the other northern nations. trast-by passages of exquisitely natuWe too are, by more ties than one, ral pathos and beauty; like a rainbow Northmen—and though the mytholo- on the thunder cloud, or like that gy of the Edda, and the exploits of well-known spot, amid the glaciers the Sagas, have been replaced in our of Mont Blanc, called the “Jardin," nurseries, and our fancy, by the softer whose verdure derives its chief charm dreams of our Southern invaders, we from the eternal barriers of “ thick may, nevertheless, hail an occasional ribbed ice” which form its boundary. interview with the grim heroes of It might seem wonderful to one Valhalla, with feelings not altogether even slightly acquainted with the alien to their grandeur and their Northern Mythology, to observe how gloom. That such congeniality of sen- sweetly fanciful are some of its pertiment is not entirely imaginary, is sonifications, how apparently inconproved by the favourable reception .sistent with its human sacrifices, and
To this most excellent Periodical we wish all success. Its distinguished Editor was instrumental, along with others, in creating a taste for foreign literature, by admirable articles in THE MAGAZINE. We have still among us, however, many writers of at least equal erudition in that department; and shall from time to time present our friends with such articles as this our opening one, most interesting, we do not hesitate to say, in its subject matter, and of admirable execution.
C. N VOL. XXIII.