hardly know how to treat him with sufficient deference. Every body begs for the honour of drinking wine with Mr Owlstare; every body is anxious to know what Mr Owlstare thinks upon the subject; every body sends the nicest cut in the whole salmon, and the wing and breast of the chicken, to Mr Owlstare. He goes into the drawing-room, and the lady of the house carries him his tea-cup with her own hands, whilst her eldest girl," who was seventeen the fifth of last September," brings him the cake. He eats and drinks an unconscionable quantity, but every body is continually beseeching him to eat and drink more. He goes home about nine-a kind of disagreeable caricature of Samuel Johnson; and his absence occasions, unconsciously, so general a relief, that the young people, in the exuberance of their spirits, propose a quadrille, and the previous generation sit down to whist, enlivening the pauses of the game by the most animated encomiums on Mr Owlstare. Upon all subjects he is equally at home, that is to say, equally superficial. He knows all about the next Waverley novel; he writes in Blackwood's Magazine, or at least says that he writes in it; and can tell you who all the articles are by. On the Corn Laws, the Drama, the Catholic question, the Opera, Phrenology, and modern Poetry, he is ever ready to pour forth a torrent of information, of somewhat ephemeral interest, it is true,-but that is not his fault. He writes and speaks on every subject that comes in his way. His father is proud of him; his mother doats on him; his sisters admire him; his cousins die for him. He publishes a thin quarto volume of very magnificently printed poetry, and, like Robert Montgomery's, his own portrait faces the title-page, his neck bare, and shirt collar turned down à la Byron, his hair combed back over his brow, and his eye looking upwards, to see what is to be seen in the sky. Sensible men pronounce him a coxcomb; but the uninitiThe Treacle-tongued-Monster—is commonly a female. ated discover genius in every line, and milliners fall into She is probably a would-be-young old maid, who has a pining melancholy by the hundred. Then comes a wormed herself into a sort of paltry independence, prin- shower of Albums, and he writes in every one of them, cipally by having had several legacies left her, as the and signs his name at full length by way of autograph. wages of toad-eating. She visits a good number of fa- All this, though it may make "the unskilful laugh, milies of respectability, on what she considers an easy cannot but make the judicious grieve." The Cleverand intimate footing; that is to say, she can look in up-young-Man-Monster, unless roused by ridicule into comon them very soon after breakfast, or about tea-time, and she is sure not to derange their domestic economy, for they will say,-Oh! it is only Miss Amelia Treacle-tongue." Her conversation is very thickly studded with tender appellatives; such as " my dear,' -"my love,"-terms in which she continually addresses all her female acquaintances. She is always very particular in her inquiries on the subject of health, and is distressed-quite distressed--to hear of the slightest ailment. A headach" alarms" her, a cough "suggests the fear of consumption,' -a sore throat makes her pathetic, and reminds her of the uncertainty of human existence." She calls to ask after the patient every day, often twice a day, until the most perfect convalescence has taken place. She apparently has the most ardent attachment to all children. She takes every little urchin in her arms, kisses him, calls him a "darling cherub," and gazes on him delightedly, (at least when his mamma or papa is present,) although the said “darling cherub" be a spoiled, clumsy, dumpy, redheaded, disagreeable varlet. With all the minutiae of little family histories Miss Amelia Treacle-tongue is particularly well acquainted; she communicates a piece of scandal in the softest and most confidential manner; she hints a doubt," or "hesitates dislike," with a whispery gentleness, quite irresistible. She is rather delicate, yet goes abroad in all weathers. At table,not in her own house, but that of a friend,-she is continually pressing you to eat, and animadverting on the poorness of your appetite. She has no taste or ear for music; but is exceedingly useful in praising the efforts of all the young ladies of the house, and in affecting rapture, till others think it necessary to affect it too. The Dyspeptic, or Stomach-complaint-Monster.—This She is rather religious, and has a temper which nothing monster is like a caterpillar in your soup, or a spider in on earth would seem capable of ruffling; yet, in truth, your tea-cup. He is called Sir Pillbox Phialton, and if her real character were known, she is the most pee-he edifies you with details of the inefficaciousness of his vish, hypocritical, greedy, selfish, and tyrannical being in existence. She is a concentration of stings, smeared over with an external coating of honey; and does more mischief in her own officious, sneaking, underhand way, than a hundred bold downright murderers, who kill their men, and are hanged for it. The Clever-young-Man-Monster.-The growth of this species of monster has been so rapid, that it almost calls for the interference of the legislature. Like the rats of the old Egyptian city, they threaten to eat up every thing. One can hardly tuin without meeting this monster. He is about two-and-twenty; has rather an expressive face, and an interminable volubility of tongue. He is not one of those that hides his light under a bushel. mon sense and a useful pursuit, sinks into premature digestive organs, till he almost makes you suppose you have lost your appetite yourself. There is not a medicine in the whole pharmacopeia that he has not taken by pounds or pints, until the only nutriment which his inner man can enjoy is something or other concocted in an apothecary's shop. His face has a saffron, exsanguineous hue, and smiles are strangers to its cavernous recesses. He reminds one of a raw day in February, and his conversation is like the drizzling of sleet upon a cupola. All his reading is confined to medical and non-medical treatises on health and diet. The only work of a literary kind he ever looks into, is the "Diary of an Invalid." He wonders that the horrible excesses of general society, in the matter of eating and drinking, do not throw all mankind into fevers. His children, if he has any, are little, lean, half-starved things; and they look like small memento moris collected round a death's-head. The Strong-Man-Monster.—Mr Sampson Hammerclub is six feet one in height, and proportionably broad. He is a member of all Highland and gymnastic clubs. Athletic exercises engross all his time and thoughts. He is continually walking backwards-forwards-upon his hands and feet-upon his head ;-running, leaping, riding, shooting, boxing, fencing, quoiting, putting, climbing up poles, raising weights, and fifty other similar operations. In whatever society he may be, he never sits on his seat half-an-hour at a time, without offering to exhibit his powers, by lifting a chair in his teeth, and flinging it over his head; or bending a poker across his arm; or jumping over the table without breaking the decanters; or, if Heaven hath made you of small dimensions, letting you stand upon one of his hands, and lifting you upon the sideboard. He has bushy, black whiskers, a strong voice, an immeasurable chest ; and moves among delicate females like a "bull in a china-shop." He thinks himself the handsomest man in Scotland; and, by all persons of five feet six, is looked upon as the ugliest fellow in existence. Many other Monsters are there, whom we can, at present, do little more than name. There is the Universallyrespected, or Exemplary Monster,-one who wants the virtue to be great, or the passion to be egregiously wrong; the Over-refined Monster,-who, instead of a gentleman, is a petit maitre, and mistakes finical nicety for taste; the Would-be-genteel Monster,—who is the vulgarest creature under the sun, because he does not know his vulgarity, and therefore boldly does things which make every body else blush for one who cannot blush for himself; the Inevitable Monster,-who, in his idleness and prosy stupidity, is continually inflicting himself upon you, and whom you are sure to meet with at every turn, without knowing how or why; the Married-man Monster,-who, from being one of the best companions in the world, suddenly becomes uxorious, rigidly moral, and a great descanter on the comforts of domestic life; the No-supper-cating Monster,-who sits down to that most social of all meals, and will touch nothing but a crust of bread and a glass of water, which he seasons with anecdotes of nightmare and apoplexy; the Clever-woman Monster,—who is aged thirty, at least, and probably unmarried, and who makes her reputation the excuse for brow-beating all her female acquaintances, and saying impertinent things to the men; the Happy Monster, who is always in the most tremendous flow of good spirits, and who has no more notion of indulging you in any thing like a sentimental mood, than he would have of scattering roses over his plum-pudding before he eat it; and, lastly, the Editorial Monster, who treats his contributors worse than negro-slaves, but of whom we shall only venture to say, that he is " a very ancient and fish-like monster. 99 ORIGINAL POETRY. THE ILL-STARRED BRIDE. WHEN small bird and bright wild flower, Keep, in my old paternal glen, Blithe summer jubilee ; How comes it, that though still my heart It singeth not, it danceth not, And the hill, thick-starred with golden furze, With daisy glades between, Why do I hate to look on it, As 'twere some blasted scene? O Mary! Mary dearest ! 'Twas there we spent our May, My mother, well you warned me, And it has cost me dear. I thought not that his twilight song, But Mary, my loved Mary, Became the stranger's bride, And then fate had no ills for me, Save one, I which did betide. II. It was an autumn evening; The yellow leaves and brown, More sad than orphan child, "Canst tell us where young Robert lives, Two stalwart strangers said. My eye fell upon Mary's home, Not one word did I say ;Before I had recall'd my glance, The men were on their way. A moment, and a moment more, Loud rose a woman's cry; At once I stood beneath that roof, In fetters of the iron cold, The men had Robert bound, I grasp'd a knife,-to deadlier arms III. They took dark Robert to the jail,On came his trial day; He was a proven parricide, No man could say it nay. It was a judgment merciful, That Heaven had clos'd her sight To his most monstrous crime, whose arts She hung by him,—she clung to him ;- Walk'd with that fearful form of sin, Me he could never bear,-he turn'd From him, a wretched, raving man, But Mary, in her madness, placed She look'd abhorrence on me,-how Could I have saved her from the woe She told me, that when she and hers She said his finger, foully doom'd To die upon the tree, Would make for all my kind on earth And when stern justice did its last, They frown'd on her, they mock'd at her- Upon a gibbet high they fix'd The godless parricide. And there an armed sentinel To watch, lest any hand should steal IV. The first night that the watch was kept, The moon shone full, the sentinel As to the dead man's face he glanced, The next night that the watch was kept, A shot!-'twas fired too late-I had Secured the frightsome load, And gallantly my trusty black The grey light of a drooping morn The horse was rein'd-his rider paused He lean'd against it, for he felt Worn both in heart and limb. An aged woman raised the latch, She fled, I totter'd after her- V. They gave the murderer a grave She-the heart-broken bride-was placed That in the silent churchyard grows Forgive me, God! I can't but wish That they had buried me! They say that at her dying hour She gave my faith its due; And wept to think how her poor brain She wished me happy-bootless wish! That on the spirit weighs. In vain small bird, bright wild flower, Keep in my old paternal glen The hill displays its golden furze, Its daisy glades in vain ; No smile that Nature sheds can light 1828. By the Ettrick Shepherd. THOU art gone! thou art gone with thy sceptre of mildness! Thy smiles, and thy tears, and thy moments of wildness. But this humble memorial to thee I dedicate, Mild 1829. * For thou hast dispell'd our despairing and sadness, Blest 1828. The reaper rejoiced as he counted his sowing, And heap'd up his garners and barns to o'erflowing; And thy winter has breathed with a soft autumn heat, Kind 1828. No frost ever sheeted our rivers and fountains, For the sake of the rhythm, name the year thus,-" Eighteen hundred twenty and eight." In the region of love thy reign has been glorious, It is true thou hast run some extravagant rigs, Thou hast chill'd the soul of the mariner with wonder, But the smiles of repentance in thee were innate, Good 1828. Thou hast garnish'd the fields of Greece that were gory, Brave 1828. work on the Tonga Islands, which she was quite in ecstacy at receiving. Poor Finow is dead, and he died not in battle, but on a bed of sickness. PHRENOLOGY.-We observe that the indefatigable Mr Combe is about to commence a course of lectures on Phrenology, which he is to continue twice a-week, for three months. We may possibly have a few remarks to make upon them during their continuance; and, in the meantime, the following letter, which we have received from Mr Combe, explains, in a manly way, the grounds upon which he proceeds, and his reasons for calling our attention to the subject: To the Editor of the Edinburgh Literary Journal. Thou art gone! thou art gone, to return to us never,-principles and evidence.—I am, sir, Mild 1828. Mount Benger, 31st Dec. 1828. A CHRISTMAS SONNET. By the Rev. Robert Morehead. Man's dwellings ;-even now the notes prolong LITERARY CHIT-CHAT AND VARIETIES. We learn that a volume of Discourses, by the Rev. Dr Walker, Professor of Divinity in the Scotch Episcopal Church, and intended chiefly for the use of Theological Students, will be published during the course of the present winter. We understand that a very full reply to Professor Pillans' Letters on the Parochial Schools of Scotland is in the press, and will be published in the course of a few weeks. Dr Andrew Ure, M.D., has in the press a large octavo volume, entitled a New System of Geology, in which the great revolutions of the earth and animated nature are reconciled at once to modern science and sacred history. The Rev. J. D. Parry, M.A., of St Peter's College, Cambridge, has in the press the Legendary Cabinet, a Selection of British National Ballads, Ancient and Modern, from the best authorities, with Notes and Illustrations. A work entitled the Natural History of Enthusiasm, is in the press. We observe that the first number of "The New Scots Magazine" was published on Wednesday last. Its original articles consist of a well-written Summary of Politics for the years 1-27 and 1828, Remarks on the present state of Ecclesiastical Affairs, comprising some tolerably severe animadversions on the Christian Instructor, and the conduct of Dr Andrew Thomson, a notice of the Ayrshire Sculptor, and a Review of Malcolm's Reminiscences and Campaign. The work is cheap, and very neatly arrange, and has our best wishes for its success. We understand that Captain Dillon's Voyage to the South Seas, in the course of which he discovered the remains of La Perouse's vessels, is about to be published by Colburn. We are informed that Captain Dillon visited the Tonga Islands, and had several interviews with the interesting natives, already introduced to the public in Mariner's Narrative. Dillon saw Mariner's adopted mother, Máfi Wábe, and presented her with a copy of his "Edinburgh, Jan. 1st, 1829. WEEKLY LIST OF PERFORMANCES. SAT. As You Like it, Married Bachelor, & Bottle Imp. THUR. Charles Edward, The First Foot Cramond Brig, & Do. Books very recently published.-Memoirs of Scipio de Ricci, translated by Roscoe, 2 vols. 8vo, L.1, 1s. boards.-The Castilian, by the author of Gomez Arias, 3 vols. post 8vo, L.1, 11s. 6d. boards.-Hungarian Tales, by the author of the Lettre de Cachet, 3 vo's. post 8vo, L.1, 11s. 6d. boards.-Elements of Geography, 12mo, 2s. half-bound.-Belfrage's Counsels for the Sanctuary, post 8vo, 7s. 6d. boards.-English History made easy, on a popular plan, 18mo, 3s. 6d. half-bound.-Conversations on the Life of Christ, 18mo, 2s. 6d. half-bound.-Winter Evenings at College, 2 vols. 18mo, 8s half-bound.-Wadd on Corpulency, &c. with plates, 8vo, 8s. 6d. boards.-Saul at Endor, a Dramatic Sketch, by the Rev. E. Smedley, 8vo, 3s. 6d. sewed. -A Sunday Bock, Moral Discourses for Young Persons, 2 vols. 18mo, 9s. cloth.-Merry Thoughts for Merry Moments, oblong folio, 5s. sewed.-The Thrush, a Collection of Songs, 12mo, 4s. 6d. boards. -The Nightingale, a Collection of Songs, 12mo, 4s. 6d. boards. M'Gavin's Scots Worthies, vol. II. 8vo, 11s.; vol. I., sixth edition, 8vo, 11s.-Protestant Reformation Vindicated, by the author of the Protestant, 4s. 6d. TO OUR CORRESPONDENTS. We have much pleasure in promising a poem from the pen of Mrs Grant, of Laggan, in our next. "The First Foot" is an interesting tale, but not exactly according to our taste.-It is quite impossible that we can notice a work On the Authenticity of Ossian's Poems," published so far back as 1825, the more especially as the subject seems deservedly to have lost its interest.-We think "An Admirer of the Imaginative" could send us something good, illustrative of his own views regarding the Imagination." S." of Aberdeen would have employed his time to greater advantage had he given us a better account of the work of which he speaks, than that to which he objects.-The Essay on the "Spirit of the Provisions of the Law of Scotland regarding Injury and Wrong" is ably written, but rather too professional for our pages. We purpose giving a place to "The Alpine Horn" when we can find room; and we beg to state generally that a considerable number of poetical communications are in the same predicament -not rejected, but waiting for their turn.-" A. L." will not suit us, but he will improve as he proceeds." The Last Night of the Year," "Weep, weep for me," and the "Lines to a Lady," do not come up to our standard.-" P. K." of Aberdeen, and " X. Y. Z." of Brechin, will not be overlooked. LITERARY CRITICISM. History of the Revolutions in Europe, from the Subversion of the Roman Empire in the West, till the Abdication of Bonaparte. From the French of C. W. Koch; by Andrew Crichton. 3 vols. Being the xxxiii, xxxiv, and xxxv vols. of Constable's Miscellany. Edinburgh. 1828 and 1829. THIS is a valuable and interesting work, every page of which teems with important knowledge. It presents a clear and impartial panoramic view of the history of the world for the last fourteen centuries; and in an ably written introduction furnishes a brief sketch of the previous progress of society, from the earliest authentic era. The work was published in 1813, shortly after the author's death, and was speedily acknowledged as entitled to rank high among the literature of the Contibent; it is now for the first time introduced to the English reader. Borysthenes, and the Don; and dividing into two branches, the Ostrogoths spread over Pannonia, whilst the Visigoths twice ravaged Italy, sacked and plundered Rome, and penetrated even into Gaul and Spain. The Franks and the Alemanns came from the banks of the Rhine, the Maine, the Weser, and the Elbe, and joined to swell the torrent that inundated the country of the Cæsars. The Saxons came from beyond the Elbe, and keeping chiefly by the sea-coast, committed ravages there similar to those which other barbarians were busy with in the interior. Lastly, the Huns, the fiercest of all, came from the remote districts of Northern Asia, to which the Greeks or Romans had never penetrated, and having first attacked Byzantium and the Eastern division of the Empire, they then precipitated themselves on the west, under the conduct of the famous Attila. For upwards of two hundred years all was confusion, bloodshed, and darkness. Not a single nation was to be found in Europe whose rights or boundaries were ascertained and established. The old order of things had been swept away at once; and it was not to be expected that so great a mass of discordant elements could immediately arrange themselves into an harmonious and appropriate disposition. Gradually, however, this began to be the case. Much internal commotion still existed, but out of the chaotic mass, new and distinct Empires sprang up, like islands rising in the ocean. The Franks established themselves in Gaul; the Alemanns became masters of Germany; the Huns contented themselves with Russia; the Visigoths disputed with the Mahometans from Africa the dominion of Spain; and the Saxons crossed over into Britain, and formed the political association known by the name of the Heptarchy. Whatever difference there might be in other respects, there were two features which gave all these nations a general resemblance to each other, and increased the probability of mutual co-operation towards the ultimate advancement of civilization. These were Koch divided his work into eight sections or periods, beginning with the year 406, and ending with the year 1789; but a ninth period has been added by his friend, biographer, and editor, M. Schoell, comprising an account of the French Revolution, and thus bringing down the History of Europe to the year 1815. The two first volumes contain Koch's original work; the greater part of the third is occupied with Schoell's addition. We shall endeavour to give our readers some idea of the contents of the whole, by mentioning very generally and briefly the leading subjects which are treated of in the different sections. Our abstract may serve not only to interest them in the work itself, but to a certain extent may refresh their memory of those great events, to a more detailed account of which the volames before us are dedicated. At a season when all classes are admonished to indulge in a salutary retro--the feudal system, and the Christian religion, both of spect of the occurrences of a past year, it will not, per- which were now universally adopted, and materially haps, be uninteresting to the intelligent mind to contended to soften the harsher characteristics of the times. trast with its own temporary concerns, the principal oc- The only other event of this period to which it is necurrences of past centuries,-occurrences which influ-cessary to allude, is the new religion which Mahomet enced the destiny of a world. founded in Asia, and the Empire which he extended through Africa into Spain. The first period into which our author divides his View of the Revolutions of Europe, extends from the year 406 to 800. It was in the early part of the fifth century that the mighty fabric of the Roman Empire, which had been long tottering to decay, fell finally and forever into ruin. Their far-extended possessions, which it had cost them ages to acquire, were, in the course of a few lustrums, snatched from them, one after another, and over-run by barbarians, who trampled under foot all the institutions and improvements which Roman greatness had introduced into their most distant colonies. The Vandals came from the banks of the Elbe and the Vistula, and passing through Germany, entered Gaul, plundering and destroying wherever they went. The Goths came from the banks of the Dniester, the The second period, which extends from the year 800 to 962, introduces us to the ascendency of the Empire of the Franks under Charlemagne, and the Carloviagian race of kings. It was not till a much later period that the different independent kingdoms, which rose upon the ashes of Roman greatness, began to consider the careful preservation of a just balance of power as the most essential part of European and international policy. They had been too long accustomed to acknowledge the ascendency of one country, to be surprised at finding themselves again becoming tributary to the superior genius of a great conqueror. Charlemagne, who succeeded his father Pepin in 768, eclipsed every monarch that had preceded him, since the days of Julius Cæsar. |