ries, and a very popular poet had lately promised to celebrate their achievements with all the fervor of his inspired verse. Every thing belonging to Scotland, in fact, seemed to have derived from these Worthies a character of sanctity; and when a native of this country looked to the times that are past, it was with something of the same feeling which impressed the mind of an Israelite when he thought of those men who, during the infancy of the world, had been the friends of God, or who, as his chosen prophets, had, at a later period, been persecuted and slain for their righteousness and faith. When, therefore, an author appeared who, in the slight strains appropriated to a novel, had ventured to throw ridicule upon the conduct of these marytrs, and who, while he represented their opinions as absurd and fanatical, had extolled the character of their persecuting opponents, it was to be expect ed that the chagrin of those who venerated the Covenanters, would be feelingly expressed. A multitude of voices were accordingly raised in reprobation of the sacrilegious attempt which had been made and we will fairly confess, that, for our own parts, we were somewhat inclined to join with the party which professed to have been injured. it was no small proof, at the same time, of the merit of the work which had given rise to these remonstrances, that it gained from the very first, by its charm of narration, the favour of many who might, from their previous conduct, have been expected to adopt very different views; and, we believe, that the strict examination which was immediately instituted, fully proved the general accuracy of our author, and established the excellence of his work, as not only a most interesting and ably executed fiction, but a valuable exposition of a dark portion of our history, and a striking portrait of the characters of those men whose religious peculiarities have impressed so lasting an influence upon the opinions of their countrymen.

The truth is, that the religious character of the Scottish peasantry is not, we believe, very generally understood even at the present day. Scotland has long enjoyed the character of being the most religious country perhaps in Europe; and we are

ready to admit, that, in many very obvious respects, this character is well merited. Yet we are much mistaken if the feeling of devotion is more generally diffused among the mass of our peasantry, than among those of many other countries which have never attained the same elevation of character. We believe, in short, that the tendency of our national character is rather to reflection and foresight, than to veneration, or any of those powerful emotions on which devotion is founded; and that while there is, no doubt, much external decency of conduct, and much sincere regard for religious privileges among our people, they have yet a decided inclination to consider every religious topic rather as a subject of speculation and debate, than as a holy revelation which should awaken their gratitude and love. We know no person who seems to us to have formed a more just estimate of this peculiarity of our national character than the author of Rob Roy; and we beg leave to refer such of our readers as may wish to see how he thinks upon this subject, to the admirable account given in that novel of the different countenances and feelings of the spectators who were assembled to hear the sermon which is there stated to have been delivered by a popular preacher of the period referred to, in the Cathedral of Glasgow. Every person conversant with the habits of our population must have remarked, indeed, that public worship is much less viewed by them as an union of individuals to express their gratitude to their Maker, or to learn the dictates of his will, than as an opportunity for the exercise of their critical talents on those theological points, upon which even the lowest of our peasantry consider themselves to be competent judges; and as all days of peculiar sanctity are banished from our kalendar, the disputative character of our public assemblies is not compensated by any sacred moments which might have mingled their influence with our more ordinary occupations.

It is not necessary for us to say how different all this is even in those European countries which have been longest and most decidedly under the influence of superstition; and while we profess, therefore, to hold high the moral character of our people, we apprehend that that author has done a

good service to religion, who, by the force of his ridicule, has in some measure made us sensible of propensities which we had formerly regarded with too much veneration. At all events, that man, we think, must have considered the character of the Scottish peasantry with very little discrimination, who can doubt of the correctness of the leading portrait in the great picture which the same accomplished artist has now submitted to the judgment of the public. The portrait to which we allude is that of " Douce David Deans," -a man who is supposed to have had some share, while yet a boy, in the great struggle for religious independence in which his countrymen had engaged during the latter years of the preceding century; -who had outlived, however, all that period of dissention and persecution; -and who now, from the repose of a green old age, still cherishes, in more quiet times, a deep-rooted veneration for the feelings of his youth, and an unyielding horror of those backslidings and failings, those right-hand excesses, and left-hand defections, which now deformed the beauty of the national tabernacle. Yet, amidst all the doggedness of his religious zeal, and all the self-importance with which he viewed his superior gifts and graces, there is so much true devotion in the character of this man,-such firm adherence, to what, in his conscience and understanding, he believes to be the truth,-such a fearless devotion to the will of God, and so much genuine affection, under a shew of austerity, for the friends that had been given him, that no man, we think, can look upon his character, as it is here drawn, without feeling something of that veneration with which we regard the patriarchs of a holier age. We think, in short, that no man could have painted such a character, without having both formed to himself a most correct idea of the religious feelings of the more respectable of our peasantry, and without entertaining a true reverence for the excellencies which he described; and, as we consider the character of David Deans to have been intended by the author as in some degree a relief to the darker shades in which he had delineated the great body of the Covenanted leaders in his former work, we appeal for the truth of the present por

trait, to those numerous living originals of it, who may still be seen in ever village and neighbourhood within the limits of this country.

It is as representations of Scottish scenery and manners that the descriptions of these novels are primarily intended; and it is under this aspect, we apprehend, that they ought chiefly to be considered by a judicious critic. Now it seems to us, that there is not one of our author's former productions which is more perfectly in this spirit than the one which is now before us. The whole family of the Deans's, who constitute the leading group in the picture, are Scottish, and characteristic in the very highest degree. Of the character of "Auld David," we have already spoken; and for Jeanie, the quiet, firm, undaunted, affectionate Jeanie, where should we seek for her prototype, but among the well-educated and well-principled peasantry of" dear Caledonia." We do not know whether some well-known incidents in the lives of the celebrated Flora Macdonald, and of the no less heroic Lady Grizzel Hume, have suggested to the author the conception of such a character; but it is with a truer pride than ever patriot felt from contemplating the most splendid trophies of a victorious country, that we are able to say, that in our own experience we have frequently witnessed the most essential ingredients of this character, not indeed in circumstances in which they could be so strikingly manifested, but yet in such vigour of existence that we have not a doubt, that similar circumstances alone were wanting for their being as gloriously manifested. "Effie, that puir blinded, misguided thing," the child of many prayers, and the cause of so many sorrows, is unfortunately a character of more frequent occurrence. But though the same obstinacy and irritability of temper, the same self-conceited disregard of restraint, and the same readiness, as she herself confessed, to risk "baith soul and body for them she loved," may be found among the young and inexperienced, and affectionate of every land, what country but our own could furnish the tout ensemble of the following portrait.

"Effie Deans, under the tender and affec tionate care of her sister, had now shot up into a beautiful and blooming girl. Her

Grecian-shaped head was profusely rich in waving ringlets of brown hair, which, confined by a blue snood of silk, and shading a laughing Hebe countenance, seemed the picture of health, pleasure, and content ment. Her brown russet short-gown set off a shape, which time, perhaps, might be expected to render too robust, the frequent objection to Scottish beauty, but which, in her present early age, was slender and taper, with that graceful and easy sweep of outline, which at once indicates health and beautiful proportion of parts.

"These growing charms, in all their juvenile profusion, had no power to shake the stedfast mind, or divert the fixed gaze, of the constant Laird of Dumbiedikes. But there was scarce another eye that could behold this living picture of health and beauty, without pausing on it with pleasure. The traveller stopped his weary horse on the eve of entering the city, which was the end of his journey, to gaze at the sylphlike form that tripped by him, with her milk-pail poised on her head, bearing herself so erect, and stepping so light and free under her burthen, that it seemed rather an ornament than an encumbrance. The lads of the neighbouring suburb, who held their evening rendezvous for putting the stone, casting the hammer, playing at long bowls, and other athletic exercises, watched the motions of Effie Deans, and contended with each other which should have the good fortune to attract her attention. Even the rigid Presbyterians of her father's persuasion, who held each indulgence of the eye and sense to be a snare at least, if not a crime, were surprised into a moment's delight while gazing on a creature so exquisite, instantly checked by a sigh, reproaching at once their own weakness, and mourning that a creature so fair should share in the common and hereditary guilt and imperfection of our nature. She was currently entitled the Lily of Saint Leonard's, a name which she deserved as much by her guileless purity of thought, speech, and action, as by her uncommon loveliness of face and person.

"Yet there were points in Effie's character, which gave rise not only to strange doubt and anxiety on the part of Douce David Deans, whose ideas were rigid, as may easily be supposed, upon the subject of youthful amusements, but even of serious apprehension to her more indulgent sister. The children of the Scotch of the inferior classes are usually spoiled by the early indulgence of their parents; how, wherefore, and to what degree, the lively and instructive narrative of the amiable and accomplished authoress of Glenburnie' has saved me and all future scribblers the trouble of recording. Effie had had a double share of this inconsiderate and misjudged kindness. Even the strict

ness of her father's principles could not condemn the sports of infancy and childhood; and to the good old man, his youn. ger daughter, the child of his old age, seemed a child for some years after she attained the years of womanhood, was still called the bit lassie' and 'little Effie,' and was permitted to run up and down uncontrolled, unless upon the Sabbath, or at the times of family worship. Her sister, with all the love and care of a mother, could not be supposed to possess the same authoritative influence, and that which she had hitherto exercised became gradually limit. ed and diminished as Effie's advancing years entitled her, in her own conceit at least, to the right of independence and free agency. With all the innocence and goodness of disposition, therefore, which we have described, the Lily of Saint Leonard's possessed a little fund of self-conceit and obstinacy, and some warmth and irritability of temper, partly natural perhaps, but certainly much increased by the unres trained freedom of her childhood. Her character will be best illustrated by a cot. tage evening scene.

The careful father was absent in his well-stocked byre, foddering those useful and patient animals on whose produce his living depended, the summer evening was beginning to close in, when Jeanie Deans began to be very anxious for the appearance of her sister, and to fear that she would not reach home before their father returned from the labour of the evening, when it was his custom to have family exercise,' and when she knew that Effie's absence would give him the most serious displeasure. These apprehensions hung heavier upon her mind, because, for several preceding evenings, Effie had disappeared about the same time, and her stay, at first so brief as scarce to be noticed, had been gradually protracted to half an hour, and an hour, and on the present occasion had considerably exceeded even this last limit. And now Jeanie stood at the door, with her hand before her eyes to avoid the rays of the level sun, and looked alternately along the various tracks which led towards their dwelling, to see if she could descry the nymph-like form of her sister. There was a wall and a stile which separated the royal domain, or King's Park, as it is called, from the public road; to this pass she frequently directed her attention, when she saw two persons appear there somewhat suddenly, as if they had walked close by the side of the wall to screen themselves from observation. One of them, a man, drew back hastily; the other, a female, crossed the stile, and advanced towards her-it was Effie. She met her sister with that affected liveliness of manner, which, in her rank, and sometimes in those above it, females occasion

ven with his narrative whatever remarkable characters, or incidents, or scenes, his keen observation of life may have pointed out to him as proper for this purpose, we must always believe that the living likeness of his characters has, in the generality of instances at least, been derived, not from their accordance with any substantial originals, but from that elasticity of talent which has enabled the author to enter into the very soul, and to speak with the very tone and meaning of every individual actor whom he has thought proper to introduce.

The characters of this novel, how ever, are only introduced in the course of a tale which is intended to awaken the passions of the heart; and truly, we do not know when a tale of more heartfelt interest was

presented to us. Those who are even in the slightest degree acquainted with the former productions of this author, are well aware that he possesses the power of awakening the feelings in a degree equal at least to that in which he is distinguished as a painter of scenery or a delineator of character. But his pathos is always managed in a manner peculiar to himself. There is no apparent preparation for the effect to be produced. The author throws himself at once into the situation which he paints, and expressions are uttered which awaken all our sympathies, while the writer appears almost unconscious of the power he is exciting, and while the story seems not to suffer the slightest interruption from the burst of passion which had been unexpectedly drawn forth. As an instance of this part of our author's talents, and as one of the most interesting passages also which occur in the work, we venture to remind our readers of the interview between Jeanie Deans and her sister on the

sun-beam unexpectedly penetrating betwixt the clouds of a tempest, and obscured almost as soon as visible. The sisters bed, and sate down side by side, took hold walked together to the side of the pallet of each other's hands, and looked each other In this posture they remained for a minute, in the face, but without speaking a word. while the gleam of joy gradually faded from their features, and gave way to the most intense expression, first of melancho ly, and then of agony, till, throwing themselves again into each other's arms, they, to use the language of Scripture, lifted up their voices and wept bitterly.

"Even the hard-hearted turnkey, who had spent his life in scenes calculated to stifle both conscience and feeling, could

not witness this scene without a touch of human sympathy. It was shown in a trifling action, but which had more delicacy in it than seemed to belong to RatThe unglaz

cliffe's character and station.

ed window of the miserable chamber was open, and the beams of a bright sun fell right upon the bed where the sufferers were seated. With a gentleness that had something of reverence in it, Ratcliffe partly closed the shutter, and seemed thus to throw a veil over a scene so sorrowful.

"Ye are ill, Effie,' were the first words Jeanie could utter, C ye are very ill.'

O what wad I gi'e to be ten times waur, Jeanie,' was the reply- what wad I gi'e to be cauld dead afore the ten o'clock bell the morn! And our father-but I amna his bairn langer now-O I hae nae friend left in the warld!-0 that I were lying dead at my mother's side, in Newbattle Kirkyard!'

"Hout, lassie,' said Ratcliffe, willing to show the interest which he absolutely felt, dinna be sae dooms down hearted as

trial.

"Shame, fear, and grief, had contended for mastery in the poor prisoner's bosom during the whole morning, while she had looked forward to this meeting; but when the door opened, all gave way to a confused and strange feeling that had a tinge of joy in it, as, throwing herself on her sister's neck, she ejaculated, "My dear Jeanie! my dear Jeanie! it's lang since I hae seen ye." Jeanie returned the embrace with an earnestness that partook almost of rapture, but it was only a flitting emotion, like a

and jury, when they would strap up a grewsome carle like me for the fifteenth part of a flea's hide and tallow, d-n them.'

"To this homely strain of consolation the mourners returned no answer; indeed, they were so much lost in their own sorrows, as to have become insensible of Ratcliffe's presence 'Oh Effie,' said her elder sister, how could you conceal your situation from me! O, woman, had I deserved this at your hand ?-had ye spoke but ae word-sorry we might hae been, and shamed we might hae been, but this