'Miss Shoosie, a tall, meagre, heron-necked anatomy of womankind, was standing as stiff as Dr. Gaubins, of Glasgow, of whom Beeney Hamilton said, that he looked as if he had swallowed a decoction of ramrods. Her hands were fiercely clenched, her cheeks pale, and her lips quivering, and her teeth grinding, and her small greenish grey eyes sparkling, as if they emitted not constellations of fire only, but visible needles and pins. 'Miss Girzie had thrown herself between them, and was pushing her sister back by the shoulders, evidently to prevent her from fixing her. ten blood-thirsty talons in the imperturbable tranquillity of her antagonist's countenance.

On my appearance the storm was instantly hushed, the sisters hastily resumed their seats, and Mrs. Soorocks, with ineffable composure, addressed herself to me.

"How do you do, sir? me and the leddies hae been just diverting ourselves, talking o'er auld stories, till we hae been a' like to dee of laughin. Miss Shoosie there ye see hasna got the better o't yet-O! Miss Grizzy, but ye're gude at a guffaw; as for your sister, I'll no forget the way she would joke wi' me. I hope ye havena taen't ill, Miss Shoosie? I was just reminding her, sir, o' a wee bit daffin in the days o' her youthfu’ thochtlessness."

The insulted virgin could stand no more. Bouncing on her feet, she gave a stamp that shook the aged mansion from roof to foundation, and raising her clenched hands aloft, she screamed through the throttling of rage,

"It's false-it's false-as false as hell! "

And so in verity it was, for the whole insinuation, with all the details and particulars, was only an invention got up by the ingenious Mrs. Soorocks, on the spur o' the occasion, having no other material wherewithal to parry the cutting inuendoes of her acrimonious adversaries. widow, however, took no notice of the judge-like energy of the denial, but said,

The

""Good day, my old friends, and tak an advice from me, put a bridle on the neck o' your terrible tempers. Miss Girzie, I may say to you, as Leddy Law said to ane like you, may be if you would shave your beard, it would help to cool your head.""

With these words she swirled meteor-like out of the room, with a magnificent undulation, or curtseying motion, before Miss Girzie could discharge the bomb of her retort. That it might not, however, be lost, but strike, as the artillerymen say, by recouchet, the infuriated virgin turned sharply to me, and said,-

to

"She's ane, indeed, to speak o' shaving faces-she ought to be taught scrape her ain tongue. But it's beneath me to discompose mysell for sik a clash-clecking clypen kennawhat. She's just a midwife to ill-speaking."

Miss Shoosie, who had by this time in some degree rallied, exclaimed,"Sister-I beg, sister, ye'll say no more about her, for I'm determined to take the law;" and with these words she burst into tears.'-pp. 171–173. The only other characters in the volume, Mr. Rupees, the nabob, Dr. Lounlans, the pastor of the parish, a mysterious astrological sort of a dreamer, whose name we forget, and Jock, are, as we have already said, every one of them bores, though, certainly, they

are upon the whole, less disagreeable than the ladies of the party. We had expected great things from Jock, as the author holds him out in the foreground, as one whose lips are constantly uttering wise sayings, that pass forthwith into proverbs. If so, we can only bear witness, that he has not sustained his reputation in the hands of Mr. Galt, for his sayings are remarkably stiff and stupid. The best point made in the work is, however, the sort of ascendancy which Jock acquired over the Laird, by his strong attachment to the family,' and his careful attention to the chattels of his indolent master. This part of his character is natural, and well developed; and the best passage in the volume, is that in which he is described as watching in his master's grounds, to defend the nests and bramble-berries from the school-boys.

In this speculative frame of mind I took my hat and stick next day, and walked saunteringly across the fields towards Auldbiggings, keeping a path which trended towards the house, at some distance from the highroad, in order that I might not be disturbed in my reveries by any accidental encounter with those sort of friends who are ever socially disposed to inflict their company upon you, especially when you most desire to walk

alone.

This path winded over the Whinny Knowes, an untenanted and unrentable portion of the Laird's domain, famed from time immemorial among the school-boys of the town for nests and brambleberries, and for which they, as regular as the equinoxial gales, waged a vernal and autumnal war with Jock the Laird's man. For his master, by some peculiar and squire-like interpretation of the spirit and principles of the game-laws, claimed and asserted a right of property over them, as sacred and lawful as that which he possessed to his own dove-cot, or the fruit of his garden. Accordingly, as soon as the gowans began to open the silvery lids of their golden eyes in the spring, Jock was posted among the blooming furze and broom, particularly on the Saturday's blessed afternoon, to herd the nests. And in like manner, and as periodically as the same play-hallowed day of the week returned, as soon as the celebrated ruddy apples began to blush on the boughs, he was again sent thither to defend the berries, nor were the oranges of the Hesperides guarded of old by a more indomitable griffon.

It happened on the occasion of which I am speaking, that the warder had taken post for the first or second time for the season to watch the nests -I am not sure if the day, however, was a Saturday, but if it was not, the weather was so bland and bright that it ought to have been. Jock was sitting in a niche of golden broom, and inspirited by the influence of the birds and blossoms around him, was gaily whistling, it might be for the want of thought, or from the enjoyment of happiness, as he tapered a fishing-rod with an old table-knife of the true Margaret Nicholson edge and pattern.pp.39-41.

Mr. Galt has introduced into his tale a description of an Indiaman burnt at sea, taken evidently from the catastrophe of that nature which happened to Sir Stamford Raffles. It is well written, but we see at once that it is brought in for effect, and that it might be dispensed with, without the slightest injury to the story.

The only other extract which we shall make from the Last of the Lairds,' is really amusing. It is the nuptial scene, which takes place over a cup of tea, and a bottle of wine at Mrs. Soorock's mansion. The reader must pre-suppose all differences between the parties to have been arranged in a satisfactory manner. 'The tea-urn having been brought in, Mrs. Soorocks said—

"As ye're the young leddy, Miss Girzie, ye'll mak' the tea" and so saying, she rose from her chair at the tea-table, and then came and seated herself beside the Laird, while I drew my chair close to the left of Miss Girzie; her sister also moved in echelon upon her right.

'Miss Girzie having lifted one of the little silver tea-canisters, began to take out the orthodox quantity with a spoon, by one spoonful for the tea-pot, and one for each guest. During this process I heard the intended bride whisperingly say-" Girzie dinna be wasterfu', shake the spoon, and no heap every ane as if it were a cart o' hay."

'Tea being made, the task of handing it round was imposed upon the Laird, he being, as Mrs. Soorocks observed, the young man of the company, though this chronologically was not exactly the fact.

'During the time the entertainment was being served, our conversation was of a general and ordinary description. Bailie Waft talked political economy, and argued with the Laird against the corn laws; Mrs. Soorocks expatiated on the felicity of the married state; while I said agreeable things to Miss Girzie, interspersed with exhilarative allusions in parenthesis to her sister.

'So passed the time till tea was finished; and when the equipage was removed by Leezy, and the door shut, Mrs. Soorocks thus began the prologue to the matrimonial theme ;

"I have long wished to see such a meeting as the present. Time wears out all things, and lairds and ladies are like the flowers that bloom, and plants that perish-creatures of the day, and butterflies o' the sunshine. It has often been a wonder to me how year after year should have passed away, and the affection so long nourished in secret atween--I'll no say wha-should never have come to an issue."

The Laird hemmed sceptically, and Miss Shoosie looked for her pocket hole, that she might no doubt be ready with her handkerchief. ""But," continued Mrs. Soorocks, "whatever is ordained will sooner or later come to pass; and seldom hae I had in my life a pleasanter reflection, than in seeing here twa young persons made for one another." 'The Laird looked with the tail of his eye towards Miss Shoosie, and seemed as if he smelt senna, or mandragora; while she drew her hand over her face bashfully, as if to conceal the depth of her emotions.

For some time after this, there was a visible embarrassment in the manner of all present. Mrs. Soorocks, however, was the ruling spirit of the hour, and she presided with undismayed equanimity.

'After taking off his first glass, the Laird was persuaded by his active hostess to a second, and to a third; but still matters looked, to use her own expression, "unco dowie."

• The general jocularity was meanwhile on the increase, Mrs. Soorocks from time to time urging the gentlemen to use their freedom with her

bottles, and do a little for the good of the house; and, though tardy to relax, the Laird's features at length brightened up with congenial sympathy. The Bailie became garrulous, and hinted away from time to time to Miss Shoosie on the pleasures of housekeeping. Miss Girzie argued briskly with Mrs. Soorocks for and against the propriety of irregular and clandestine marriages, but with a tone of concession gradually softening into conciliation; while the Laird, continuing to wax still more cheerful and bold, boasted of his youthful sprees, and, as he snapped his thumbs, sang aloud a verse of the old ballad

"The carl he came ower the craft

Wi' his beard new shaven."

"Na," cried Mrs. Soorocks, "if it's come to that wi' ye, Laird, it's time we should bring ye before a magistrate, and hae your vows honourably ratified.-Bailie Waft, I tell ye to put him to the question."

'Here the Bailie rose, and endeavouring to wipe the flush from his brow with his handkerchief, looked as grave as the occasion would let him, and said, "Mr. Mailings, is this lady," pointing to Miss Shoosie,-your wife?""

66

"Ony lady's my wife," said the Laird, "that will condescend to tak

me."

The Bailie then turned to Miss Shoosie,-" Do you, madam, acknowledge this gentleman for your husband?"

Confess, confess," cried Mrs. Soorocks, " and dinna spoil our ploy.”. 'Miss Shoosie simpered, and said, "Sister I canna refuse ony langer." 'Here there was a general clapping of hands, and the health of Mr. and Mrs. Mailings was drank in bumpers by all but themselves. The bride acknowledged the courtesy with solemn propriety, and the Laird answered with a loud laugh; but there was a ring in its sound wild and sardonic. Another tumbler, however, soon restored the hilarity; and in a few minutes after, supper, which Mrs. Soorocks had prospectively prepared for the occasion, was announced.

The fete passed over with all due humour and conviviality. The Laird warmed more and more towards his bride, and said many sweet things across the table, as much to the amazement as the amusement of the company. Bailie Waft waxed eloquent in Glasgow stories, and forgot himself at length so far as to lose the solemnity of his official situation in jocose song-singing.

At a late, or rather an early hour, the happy party arose from table, and under a moon

"Ploughing the azure depths, and looking down

With sanctified benignity on man,"

sallied forth for The Place, the bride hanging tenderly on the bridegroom's arm.'-pp. 291–293.

Considering the number of excellent volumes of fiction which Mr. Galt has produced within the last few years, it may perhaps be occasionally allowed him, as it is permitted to greater men, not only to sleep himself, but to set others sleeping round him. If so, The Last of the Lairds' may be put down to that indulgent side of the account. Indeed, we look upon this production as little short of failure, though doubtless his own countrymen will eulogize it as a

a

work superior to the Odyssey. Even while it was in progressand we think it has been in process of gestation nearly three years-it was trumpeted forth as a splendid creation, worthy of Sir Walter Scott; but the mountain being at length delivered, here we find all its ponderous promise to issue, as usual in all such cases, in the shape of a little ridiculus mus.

10s. Paris

ART. V. Kurze Geschichte und Charakteristik der Schöner Literatur der Deutschen. Von Ehrenfried Stöber. 8vo. pp. 428. and Strassburg. London. Treuttel and Wurtz. 1826.

M. STÖBER, the author of this Brief History and Characteristics of the Belles Lettres of Germany,' is, we believe, not altogether unknown as a contributor to the periodical journals of his own country; and the work, which he has here produced, is calculated to repay him with some increase of reputation. For it displays a respectable share of national erudition and research; and, as a rapid yet comprehensive abridgment, it offers the best attempt which we have yet seen in the original language, to illustrate the rise, the early improvement, and the subsequent vicissitudes of German literature. M. Stöber is not, perhaps, a man of very brilliant or elegant mind; and it is his praise rather to have accumulated with industry the curious materials which were required for the execution of his design, than to have used and arranged them with felicitous judgment and accomplished taste. Thus, for instance, his volume, though teeming with the usual Teutonic passion for " psychological subtilties," does not abound in those enlarged and general reflections, which form the principal charm of such works as Warton's history of our English poetry, or Sismondi's literature of the South. For this defect, M. Stöber's narrow limits may be some excuse: but he seldom rises sufficiently above the details of his subject to embrace them in one lucid and collective survey; and the result of his labour is not so much a philosophical view of the progress of German letters, as a mere compilation of extracts from the writings of successive ages. Indeed, a great deal of the last half of the volume is nothing more than a catalogue raisonnée of minor authors, with the dates of their births and deaths, and the titles of some of their works.

But if he has not always enlivened his learning with the "grata protervitas" of spirited criticism, nor invested his inquiries with some of the highest attractions of which they were susceptible, M. Stöber has still sufficiently succeeded in producing a work of much value and utility. He may at least claim the merit-in itself not an inconsiderable one-of having diligently gleaned, and appropriately exhibited for his purpose, a great mass of very interesting specimens and facts; and the perusal of his volume will enable the general reader to acquire quite a sufficient insight into the