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nonette from the boxes on the window-sills. | ing less severe and unbending as she watched As Miss Lily, then over ninety but in the the pleased faces around her, suddenly full possession of her faculties, rose to meet walked up to her and offered himself as a him, he stepped forward with the alacrity of partner for the next dance. On her civil eighteen and all the grace of la vieille cour, but very decided refusal, he said, solemnly, and astounded the sedate old dame by sa-"I beg your pardon, mem, for maybe ye luting her in the French fashion with a gen- dinna approve o' promiscuous dancing tle kiss on each cheek. She bore the greet- among the sexes." ing, however, with more apparent equanimity than did her niece, Miss Phemie, who was scandalized and indignant that the head of a strict Presbyterian family, faithful to the reigning dynasty, and himself, it might be, a disciple of Voltaire, should have presumed to take so great a liberty. She could scarcely conceal her displeasure till the fascinating manner and conversation of the stately old laird riveted all her attention, and even called forth her reluctant admiration. An excellent woman in many ways, Miss Phemie was, perhaps, somewhat wanting in suavity, and apt to be a little bitter at times.

Of a winter's evening, when the family were gathered round the fire, whose cheery crackle, with the ticking of the clock and soughing of the wind, were the only sounds heard, one of the Murrayshall ladies in a low clear voice would relate to a youthful audience some of her Jacobite reminiscences. The mother of the sisters was a Haldane - a scion of the Lanrick family, so long devoted to the House of Stuart. After the '45, when the Duke of Cumberland quartered a body of his soldiers at Lanrick, the ladies of the family were restricted to certain rooms, while in the corridor without a sentinel kept guard. It was a period of grave danger and trouble - the fugitive Lanrick gentlemen were in hiding in the neighbourhood. One day Miss Janet Haldane, the laird's sister, went to walk in the grounds with some of her young people, leaving her little niece Cissy in the house. As Miss Janet on her return passed the soldier in the corridor, he said to her in a low voice, without changing a muscle of his countenance or seeming to address her, "Do not let that child be left alone again. Had she shown another what she has shown to me, it would have brought you into trouble."

On questioning the little child, she told her aunt with great glee how she had asked the soldier to go into their bedroom that she might show him their store-cupboard. Then, lifting up the valance of the oaken bedstead, she called his attention to a number of cheeses which were stowed thereprovender that was to be conveyed gradually at night by trusty hands to the men of the family in their place of concealment.

Near where the old chapel had stood was a humble farmhouse, the tenant of which once invited the ladies of Murrayshall, and the young people residing with them, to drink tea. Among the young people were some English nieces, who, under the protection of their mother, a clever, strict, and somewhat formal matron, accompanied their Scotch cousins to the rural merry-making. After a ceremonious meal, at which ample justice was done to the fresh-baked cookies he appropriated it, thinking himself, no and well-buttered flour scones which graced doubt, quite entitled to Jacobite spoils. the board, a certain stiffness which had hith- Years after, when William Werto prevailed, wore off-the sound of a merchant in London, he overheard an old violin was heard, and the young folks were red-faced military man talking pompously, invited to dance. As they flew with spirit at a large dinner-party, of the Scotch camthrough the intricate Scotch reel, the host, paign, and mentioning the fork and spoon seeing the Southern lady sitting alone, look-episode as having heard it from another per

A brother of the three sisters, at that time a little boy, made friends with the Duke's officer who was in charge of Lanrick. William W- had a handsome silver fork and spoon which had been given him by his godfather. He showed it with childish pride to Captain. who admired it so much that, spite of the boy's indignant grief,

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LIVING AGE.

VOL. XIII.

571

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In a lonely spot not far from Murrayshall, and on the same estate, there had once stood a very small old Episcopalian chapel; but when half in ruins, it had been pulled down by the Laird of P Some of the stones were even taken to build a wall or cottage. To this, in Miss Phemie's eyes, most sacrilegious act, was it owing, as a judgment from Heaven, that the eldest son of the man by whose orders the consecrated building had been removed, was left childless, and the broad lands of P- were destined to pass to the younger branch of the family; while the humbler folks who had made no use of the sacred stones never, according to Miss Phemie, throve afterwards. Assuredly, were she now living, the impetuous lady would regard the recent humiliation of the Kingdom of Hanover as a striking judgment on its royal race for the Elector's old usurpation of the Stuart throne.

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son, who evidently considered the whole | fell from her hand, and they were left in affair as a good joke. William W. - got utter darkness. "Bring a light, Annie up, crossed over to the officer, and present- for heaven's sake bring a light!" And ing his card, said quietly "You are the Peggy groaned as if in agony. Why man, sir, and I am the boy." don't you bring a light, Annie?" she exclaimed again. And then explaining to Major - that her sister was very deaf, she directed him to the parlour on the upper landing, whence he soon emerged followed by Annie with a lamp in her hand.

It was dark and late one night when the Lanrick and Annet men met in conclave at the neighbouring manor-house of Annet. Suddenly they were disturbed. There was loud knocking at the door. A troop of soldiers occupied the court-yard, and an Eng-The officer and Annie assisted Peggy to lish officer demanded entrance in King the parlour sofa, where she bitterly beGeorge's name. moaned her sprained ankle, and acted an effective little fainting scene. After due attention and condolence, the Major, conducted by Annie, made diligent but fruit

The Jacobites had little time for thought. Escape at the moment seemed impossible. The lights were extinguished, however, and the conspirators quietly ensconced less search all over the house. By this themselves behind a row of long greatcoats time, indeed, the Jacobite gentleman had and cloaks hanging from pegs in a deep fully availed themselves of Miss Peggy's recess caused by the turn of the staircase. diversion in their favour, and had escaped Miss Peggy Stuart, the elder daughter of by a back window. Quickly they put the the house, told her sister Annie to keep wild muir and the Tod's glen between them quiet in the parlour upstairs and not to stir on and the house of Annet. any account, whatever happened. Peggy, waving back the servants, then opened the door herself, and informing the officer there were only "lone women" at home, begged he would leave his men outside and come and search the house himself. Major courteously granted her request, apologiz-owners. ing for intruding at such an untimely hour. footsteps passed up and down the old stairPeggy led him upstairs, telling him the case, strange voices echoed through the steps were worn and bad, and begging him rooms. Poor people and little children to be careful how he advanced. At the looked wistfully up at the small-paned winturn of the staircase she redoubled her dows. Old friends turned away sorrowattention, holding the candle very low, so fully from the deserted house. The craggy that the steps might be more distinctly seen. furze-clad rock and the Scotch fir-trees seem The cloaks, the greatcoats, and the hidden to cast a deeper shadow on the old house men were left behind, the officer again since that dreary morning, long years ago, apologizing for the trouble he gave. After when the last of the Jacobite ladies was ascending a few more steps, Peggy stum- carried forth to her resting-place in the bled, gave a loud shriek, the candlestick churchyard of St. Ninian.

The cattle and poultry went to other
The farm was re-let-strange

SELF-ACTING PHOTOGRAPHIC APPARATUS. An invention new to English operators is described in a recent number of the Illustrated Photographer. It is called the "Ophthalmos," and is in reality a camera provided with mechaniçal contrivances for automatically uncovering and covering the lens and exposing the plate. It is sent up attached to a small balloon without an operator, and at any required height takes a picture of the surface of the earth beneath it, with all the bearings of the compass accurately marked. It has often occurred to the writer of this that a time might come when a system of self-recording photography (microscopic per

Miss Lily was in her ninety-third year when she was taken away in March, 1829. After her death there was a great sale of the antique furniture and household treasures of Murrayshall.

haps) might "take note" of the progress of events, such as a battle, or of a spectacle of any kind, such as an eclipse, in a series of successive photographs at brief intervals, showing its whole progress from beginning to end; or the whole series of events in a banking-house, with portraits of every one who entered, and of all their movements, or in a ceremonial such as a coronation, a marriage, &c. But when this idea shall have been realized, we suppose we must not dare to say that we suggested it. The same satyric grin which now meets the sugges tion, would then meet our claim to it!

Public Opinion.

for a doom as tragic as that of the cities of the Plain; indeed one more dramatic, for it will be thrown down from its towerOr all the old peoples of Italy that have ing height into a bottomless quicksand made a mark in history, leaving an impress below, which is swallowing in immense on modern civilization, none interest more mouthfuls the mountain on which it stands. than the Etruscans. They have left a writ- Having already engulfed the Church of St. ten language which no one can read; stu- Giusti, it has reached on the north the pendous public works which time fails to ancient walls of the Badia, from which the destroy; and a rich and suggestive art, monks have fled in dismay, leaving their frail often in material, but exquisite in remarkable cloisters trembling on the brink workmanship, which the grave has pre- of a precipice of sand five hundred to a served during a silence of nearly thirty thousand feet deep, which leans over a centuries. Everywhere their cities crowned treacherous abyss of hidden waters, sapping the most picturesque and impregnable the unsolid earth above them with relentless mountain sites, rejoicing in varied views, energy. Each year the distance between pure air, and excessive climbing, as greatly the precipice and the city is growing less, as modern towns delight in the easy access, yet it seems fascinated by the peril. The heavy atmosphere, and cramped scenery of massive walls which have stood firmly on the lowlands. their foundations three thousand years may help induce a feeling of security in their ability to outlive this enemy as they have all others. But the contrast in sensations is most startling when, after following their circuit for miles in wonder at their hugeness, one comes at a single step upon this tremendous undermining of a mountain which, at an unexpected moment, is destined not merely to leave no one stone of them on another, but to bury them for ever. from human sight, and with them the people who trusted to their strength for safety.

Their inhabitants were a strong-limbed, broad-headed, industrious race, given to road-building, sewer-making, canal-digging, and nature-taming generally. They were religious too, commercial, manufacturing, keen of business, of course luxurious, not wholly unmindful of beauty, but preferring the strength and comfort that comes of a practical view of things: a people in the end whose hard-earned riches and longtested mechanical science failed to save their political being when imperilled by an ambitious, war-like neighbour. Still, It is an impressive spectacle, not only of though subdued in the field, their arts and the transitoriness of all human work, but civil polity conquered the conquerors. For of those agencies which are preparing the centuries they ruled the seas, and were earth for new forms and species of existence. the great wave-lords of antiquity. English I comprehend sleeping quietly on the edge in their maritime skill and force, they were of a volcano or during a battle, for there like the English in many other habits and the elements of death have in them that of points of character, especially in their fond- the sublime, which puts the spirit on a level ness for horse-racing and pugilistic encoun- with the occasion; but the thought of the ters. Their origin is lost in the remotest prolonged, helpless strangulation of a whole antiquity of the East. Nevertheless, their city irresistibly sucked into the bowels of earliest civilization comes to us indubitably the earth, is awful. No heroisms can avail filtered through Egyptian and Assyrian in burial alive, and no human sacrifice sources. What we dig up of their primi- can avert the destruction after Nature has tive work has a decided look of the Nile sounded the signal of doom. Yet with a that prolific mother of antique arts and degree of stupidity which seems past belief, ideas. Many of their paintings and sculp- the Volterrians once refused to permit an tures bear also a strong likeness to those enterprising citizen of Leghorn to save their of Nineveh. city by draining off the encroaching waters while there was time, on condition of having for himself the land he reclaimed from devastation. Possibly they feared the loss of one of their " sights," which are food and raiment to the poor of Italian cities in general, each inhabitant consoling himself with the reflection, "after me the flood." The " sight" certainly is one not to be met in other parts. Go to see it, but do not tarry long.

Orvieto is as firmly as Volterra is loosely placed, on its foundation of rock. Follow

From The Cornhill Magazine. THE ETRUSCANS, THE ENGLISH OF ANTIQUITY.

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Independently of other inducements, it is worth while to make the tour of the ancient cities of Etruria on account of the loveliness of their situations and the varied beauty of the landscape encircling them. Take, for instance, Volterra, set on high, overlooking the Mediterranean, the fertile Pisan territory, and a Plutonic tract of country at its feet, split and warped into savage fury of chasm and nakedness by internal fires. Its situation marks it finally

L

ing the circuit of the perpendicular precipice on which the town stands, its walls rise many hundred feet in parts, in as straight a line as if all built up of masonry. Perugia struggles in a vagabond manner along the In treating of Etruscan art, it is not neccrests of several hills or terraces, evincing essary to specify its antiquarian distinctions, a desire to get into the rich valleys below. but only its general characteristics. The Chiusi with a glorious outlook over two best way to get at these is to study the conlakes, girt around with a green swell of tents of the tombs. They were excavated mountains, whose olive-grounds and vine- and built much after the plan of the dwelyards rise and fall until they dash their fra- lings of the living, with a similar disposition grance against its ugly walls, shows like a of chambers or halls, corresponding to the dark spot in the bountiful nature around it. room required for the dead, except when The kingly virtues of Persenna are as much they took the form of mausoleums or monulost sight of in his now beggarly capital as ments, and were made immense labyrinthis his famous tomb, once a wonder of the ian structures, whose ruins now seem more world. But what else can be in a nest of the work of man. Interiorly they were lavexcavators whose most productive industry ishly decorated with painting and sculpture lies in rifling ancestral tombs and fleecing in relief on the walls and ceilings. When the visitor; not to speak of the dubious first opened, these decorations are quite reputation of the place as an entrepôt for fresh and perfect. After an experience of the sale of false antiquities. My landlord the ghastly relics of modern sepulchres, it could not give a morsel of meat to eat that is with pleased astonishment one enters for the teeth could penetrate, but he had to the first time an Etruscan house of the dead. offer his museum of Etruscan antiquities for If it be a sepulchre hitherto undisturbed, the modest sum of fifty thousand francs. the visitor finds himself, or he can easily so The ascent to the bedrooms was guarded imagine, in the presence of the original proby a long lugubrious line of cinerary urns, prietors. The apartments opening one inremarkable only for their archaic coarseness. to another have a look of domestic life, Chiusi is neither clean, cheerful, nor com- while the ornamentation is not confined to fortable, but it has its special attractions mythological or symbolical subjects, but is and much genuine art remaining, although intermingled with scenes of social festivity, its best museum the Casuciuni has been games, picnics, races, theatrical exhibitions sold to the city of Palermo. and whatever they enjoyed in their everyday world; thus indicating that they fancied they were entering upon a new life corresponding in many particulars with their old. It is another form of the Indian notion of new and better hunting-grounds in the land of the Great Spirit. But the good or evil past had much to do in their minds with the reception that awaited them. Guardian genii, effigies of the avengers of wrong, protectors of the good, symbols of immortality, occult doctrines put into pictorial life, these looked on them from carved roofs and frescoed walls, which were further secured from wanton sacrilege at the hands of the living by figures of monstrous serpents and demon heads, or the snake-entwined visage of the terrible Medusa. There was so much of value to tempt the cupidity of even the heirs in the tombs of the wealthy that it was necessary to render them awful as well as sacred to the common imagination. Indeed, there is room for believing that, while in some instances deposits of jewels and other costly objects were made in compliance with the religious customs, they were afterwards covertly withdrawn by means of a secret entrance known only to the persons interested, if not of the family

The Maremma is a vast cemetery of Etruscan cities, but disease and desolation have replaced their once vigorous commercial life. Scarcely a spadeful of earth can be turned up without disturbing the dust of their inhabitants. The same picturesque choice of sites of towns obtains here as elsewhere. Cortona is the queen of them all, though Citta-della-Pieve, garlanded with oak and chestnut forests, looks on a landscape not so diversified but in some details more exquisitely lovely.

I wish I could credit the founders of Etruscan cities with a love of the beautiful in nature in regard to the situations they selected. But I fear they had no greater liking this way than modern Italians. Sanitary considerations and personal security led them up the hills to live and to girt themselves around with solid walls. The plains were damp and unwholesome before they were drained and planted. Still in "locating" as they did, and in disposing their walls and gateways, they must have obeyed a latent instinct of beauty even in a land where nature is so bountiful that it is difficult to go amiss in laying the foundations either of a house or a town. We find

in them all a varied succession of surprising views which could scarcely be more completely pleasurable had the sites of their cities been specially chosen with this end.

itself; perhaps left expressly by conscience- | under Grecian influence, with occasional hardened workmen for the sake of plunder. gilding. But, as enough has been already secured by modern excavators to stock the principal museums of Europe, it proves that the practice of burying treasures of art was in general respected among the old Etruscans, who, doubtless thinking to need them again, wished to have them within their ghostly

reach.

On entering a tomb at Volterra, I was surprised to see wine and food on one of the urns in the centre. I asked the peasantwoman, whose flickering torch cast a mysterious shadowy light over the pale figures that looked up to us out of great staring eyes, with their libation-cups or patera held invitingly out, as if to be filled, the spirits of her ancestors still thirsted for the warm drink of their native hills. "Oh, no," she said, “we put it here to cool for ourselves." It seems one must come to Italy to learn best how to utilize the gravechill otherwise than as a moral refrigerator or theological bugbear.

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If the tomb be anterior to the Roman fashion of burning the corpses, we often find the noble lady or great officer laid out in state on bronze biers and funeral couches, looking as in life, with their jewellery or armour on them, as prompt, to all appearance, for the pursuits of love or war as ever. Their favourite furniture, vases, bronzes, articles of toilet, and sometimes children's toys the pet dolls and engraved primers are placed about them ready for instant use. A few minutes' exposure to the air reduces the bodies to dust; but the records of their personal tastes and habits remain. The family scene of some of the sepulchres is made more real by rows of portrait statues in various attitudes placed on urns of sarcophagi, and arranged in order around the chamber, very much after the manner of a fashionable reception. In those days, guests more often reclined at banquets than sat upright. We see them, therefore, commonly in that position, and, if husband and wife, decorously embracing or caressing, the arm of the man thrown lovingly over the shoulder of the partner of his home. Each is draped as in life, wearing their ornaments and insignia of rank. The base, which contains the ashes or bodies, is elaborately sculptured, sometimes in full relief, with mythological or historical scenes, or symbols and events relating to the deceased persons. The oldest and most common of these cinerary urns are coarsely painted and modelled in terra-cotta; but the finer are done in marble or alabaster,

These tombs are the libraries and museums of Etruscan history. Without them, not only would there have been important gaps in the annals of the people, and, indeed, all real knowledge of their life lost, but modern art would also have missed its most graceful and precious models and patterns in bronze, jewellery, and plastic materials in general. These offer a most needed contrast to the graceless, clumsy, meaningless, or vicious styles of ornament which prevailed after the loss of mediæval art, and before a revival of the knowledge of the pure forms of the antique Grecian taught us what beauty really is. We may estimate the extent to which the manufacture of artistic objects was carried by this people by the fact that from the small town of Volsinium, the modern Bolsena, Flavius Flaccus carried off to Rome 2,000 bronze statues. It is believed by many that the Etruscans were superior to the Greeks in the working of bronze, or anticipated them in perfecting it and the making of fictile vases. Each nation possessed a consummate art of its own, the origin of which in either was equally archaic and rude, while in time both styles in Italy became so intermingled that it requires a practised eye to discriminate between them, especially after Greek colonies settled in Southern Italy and their artists were employed throughout the peninsula.

Etruscan art proper is as thoroughly characteristic and indigenous as is the Greek; but instead of a keen sense of beauty as its animating motive, there was a love of fact. It is essentially realistic, delighting in vigour and strength, and in telling its story plainly and forcibly, rather than with grace and elegance of expression. Before it was subjected to Greek influence, it was more or less heavy and exaggerated, with an unwitting tendency to the grotesque, faulty in detail, often coarse, but always expressive, emphatic, and sincere. Ignoring the extreme principles of Greek selection, it takes more to common nature as its guide. Nevertheless, it has a lofty idealism, or, more properly speaking, creative faculty of its own, which, as we shall see in its best art, inspires its natural truth with a feeling of the sublime. This supernal mystical element, which it has always exhibited, comes of the Oriental blood of the race. Grecian art is poetry; Etruscan, eloquence. Homer inspires both; but the difference between them in rendering the same thought is very obvious.

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