select "The Pirate," not because it is the best or the worst, either in a moral or a literary point of view, of the works of this celebrated author, but because it happens to be the last. As a work of genius, it stands much lower than many of the former productions from his pen, though still sufficiently high to challenge no mean intellectual suffrage: in its moral aspect, it may be about on a par with them; though in one respect, it is above several of them, as it exhibits a much smaller, though unhappily still ample, portion of irreverence for the words and sentiments of the sacred Scriptures.

To compromise matters with our younger readers, we shall now give an outline of the tale, with a few extracts, upon condition that, in return, they shall condescend to peruse the general reflections upon the subject, which we propose to subjoin *.

The scene of the novel before us is laid in the island of Thule, called the Mainland of Shetland, or Zetland: towards the conclusion of the tale, it changes to Kirkwall, the capital of the Orkney islands. On Sumburgh Head, the southeast promontory of the Mainland, stood a ruined mansion, called Jarlshof, which had been in ancient days the residence of a Norwegian Earl of Orkney, and now belonged to the Udaller, or Fowd, of Burgh Westra, Magnus Troil, a descendant from the Norse lords of these isles. The Udaller himself resided at Burgh Westra, about twenty miles from Jarlshof, in a more sheltered and productive part of the island, and leased the stormy mansion of Sumburgh Head to Mr. Basil Mertoun, a gentleman who had lately arrived in the island. Basil Mertoun is so morose, taciturn, and misanthropical, that

In abridging this work, we have partially availed ourselves of an abstract given in a contemporary publi. cation.

even his son Mordaunt Mertoun is unacquainted with his history, and is scarcely ever permitted to enter into conversation with him. Mordaunt Mertoun is of course as handsome, generous, and brave, as the writer can make him and as the society of his father's old housekeeper is not particularly to his taste, he takes the opportunity, during Mr. Mertoun's periodical fits of silence and abstraction, called his "dark hour," to visit Burgh Westra, where he is a general favourite from the lowest of the islanders, to the rich, hospitable, open-hearted Udaller, and his engaging daughters, Minna and Brenda, whose characters and occupations are thus described:

"Their mother had been dead for many years, and they were now two

beautiful girls; the eldest only eighteen, which might be a year or two younger

than Mordaunt Mertoun; the second

about seventeen. They were the joy of their father's heart, and the light of his old eyes; and although indulged to a degree which might have endangered his comfort and their own, they repaid his affection with a love into which even blind indulgence had not introduced slight regard or feminine caand of their complexions was singularly price. The difference of their tempers striking, although combined, as is usual, with a certain degree of family resemblance.

"The mother of these maidens had been a Scottish lady from the Highlands of Sutherland, the orphan of a noble chief, who, driven from his own country during the feuds of the seventeenth century, had found shelter in those peaceful islands, which, amidst poverty and seclusion, were thus far happy, that they remained unvexed by discord, and unstained by civil broil. The father (his name was Saint Clair) pined for his native glen, his feudal tower, his clansmen, and his fallen au

thority, and died not long after his arrival in Zetland. The beauty of his orphan daughter, despite her Scottish lineage, melted the stout heart of Magnus Troil. He sued and was listened to, and she became his bride; but dying in the fifth year of their umon, left him to

mourn his brief period of domestic happiness.

"From her mother, Minna inherited the stately form and dark eyes, the raven locks and finely-pencilled brows, which shewed she was, on one side at least, a stranger to the blood of Thule. Her check,

"O call it fair, not pale, was so slightly and delicately tinged with the rose, that many thought the lily had an undue proportion in her complexion. But in that predominance of the paler flower, there was nothing sickly or languid: it was the true natural complexion of health, and corresponded in a peculiar degree with features which seemed calculated to express a contemplative and high-minded character. When Minna Troil heard a tale of woe or of injustice, it was then her blood rushed to her cheeks, and shewed plainly how warm it beat, notwithstanding the generally serious, composed, and retiring disposition, which her countenance and demeanour seemed to exhibit. If strangers sometimes conceived that these fine features were clouded by melancholy, for which her age and situation could scarce have given occasion, they were soon satisfied, upon further acquaintance, that the placid, mild quietude of her dispo sition, and the mental energy of a character which was but little interested in ordinary and trivial occurrences, was the real cause of her gravity; and most men, when they knew that her melancholy had no ground in real sorrow, and was only the aspiration of a soul bent on more important objects than those by which she was surrounded, might have wished her whatever could add to her happiness, but could scarce have desired that, graceful as she was in her natural and unaffected seriousness, she should change that deportment for one more gay. In short, notwithstanding our wish to have avoided that hackneyed simile of an angel, we cannot avoid saying there was something in the serious beauty of her aspect, in the measured, yet graceful, ease of her motions, in the music of her voice, and the serene purity of her eye, that seemed as if Minna Troil belonged naturally to some higher and better sphere, and was only the chance visitant of a world that was scarce worthy of her.

"The scarcely less beautiful, equally lovely, and equally innocent Brenda, was of a complexion as differing from

her sister, as they differed in character, taste, and expression. Her profuse locks were of that paly brown which receives from the passing sun-beam a tinge of gold, but darkens again when the ray has passed from it. Her eye, her mouth, the beautiful row of teeth, which, in her innocent vivacity, were frequently disclosed; the fresh, yet not too bright, glow of a healthy complexion, tinging a skin like the drifted snow, spoke her genuine Scandinavian de scent. A fairy form, less tall than that of Minna, but even more finely moulded into symmetry-a careless and almost childish lightness of step-an eye that seemed to look on every object with pleasure, from a natural and serene cheerfulness of disposition, attracted even more general admiration than the charms of her sister, though perhaps that which Minna did excite, might be of a more intense as well as a more reverential character.

"The dispositions of these lovely sisters were not less different than their complexious. In the kindly affections, neither could be said to excel the other, so much were they attached to their father and to each other. But the cheerfulness of Brenda mixed itself with the every-day business of life, and seemed inexhaustible in its profusion. The less buoyant spirit of her sister appeared to bring to society a contented wish to be interested and pleased with what was going forward, but was rather placidly carried along with the stream of mirth and pleasure, than disposed to aid its progress by any efforts of her own. She endured mirth, rather than enjoyed it; and the pleasures in which she most delighted, were those of a graver and more solitary cast. The knowledge which is derived from books. was beyond her reach. Zetland afforded few opportunities, in those days, of studying the lessons bequeathed

"6 'By dead men to their kind; and Magnus Troil, such as we have described him, was not a person within whose mansion the means of such knowledge was to be acquired. But the book of nature was before Minna, that noblest of volumes, where we are ever called to wonder aud to admire, even when we cannot understand. The plants of those wild regions, the shells on the shores, and the long list of feathered clans which haunt their cliffs and eyries, were as well known to Minna Troil as to the most experienced of the fowlers.

cused of witchcraft or sorcery. But superstitions of this nature pass through two stages ere they become entirely obsolete. Those supposed to be possessed of supernatural powers are venerated in the earlier stages of society. As religion and knowledge increase, they are first held in hatred and horror, and are finally regarded as impostors. Scotland was in the second state: the fear of witchcraft was great, and the hatred against those suspected of it intense. Zetland was as yet a little world by itself, where, among the lower and ruder

classes, so much of the ancient northern superstition remained, as cherished the original veneration for those affecting supernatural knowledge and power over the elements, which made a constituent part of the ancient Scandinavian creed. At least if the natives of Thule admitted that one class of magicians perform ed their feats by their alliance with satan, they devoutly believed that others dealt with spirits of a different and less odious class the ancient dwarfs, called in Zetland, Trows or Drows, the modern fairies, and so forth.

"Among those who were supposed to be in league with disembodied spirits, this Norna, descended from, and repre. sentative of a family which had long pretended to such gifts, was so eminent, that the name assigned to her, which signifies one of those fatal sisters who weave the web of human fate, had been conferred in honour of her supernatural powers. The name by which she had been actually christened was carefully concealed by herself and her parents; for to the discovery they superstitiously annexed some fatal consequences. In those times, the doubt only occurred whether her supposed powers were ac. quired by lawful means. In our days, it would have been questioned whether she was an impostor, or whether her imagination was so deeply impressed with the mysteries of her supposed art, that she might be in some degree a believer in her own pretensions to supernatural knowledge. Certain it is, that she performed her part with such undoubting confidence, and such striking diguity of look and action, and evinced, at the same time, such strength of language, and such energy of purpose, that it would have been difficult for the greatest sceptic to have doubted the reality of her enthusiasm, though he might smile at the pretensions to which it gave rise." Vol. I. pp. 118—122.

Among other predictions of this sybil, all of which fall out correctly, she foretels a storm, in which a dismasted vessel, apparently deserted by her crew, is seen drifting before the wind, and at length is dashed to pieces on the rocky coast. One man only emerges from the wreck, clinging to a spar, whose life is saved by the intrepidity of the younger Mertoun. This single survivor proves to be CaptainCleveland, a pirate, who is represented as a young man, bold, handsome, and of a pleasing address. Cleveland soon finds his way to the Udaller's family, where he obtains a firm footing, carousing with the father, and amusing the daughters with nautical adventures. Poor Mordaunt Mertoun, now begins to lose favour at Burgh Westra, in of some reports spread consequence to his disparagement by the Pirate. It had for many years been his custom to be present at an annual festival given by the Udaller, on which and all other occasions, till Cleveland came to the island, he had been the most favoured guest. The appointed day came round as usual; but he was not invited. Irritated at the slight, he caught up his gun, and rushed out of the house of Jarlshof, in a temper of mind which is described in the following extract.

"Without exactly reflecting upon the route which he pursued, Mordaunt walked briskly on through a country where neither hedge, wall, nor inclosure of any kind, interrupts the steps of the wanderer, until he reached a very solitary spot where, embosomed among steep heathy hills, which sunk suddenly down on the verge of the water, lay one of those small fresh-water lakes which are common in the Zetland isles, whose outlets form the sources of the small brooks and rivulets by which the country is watered, and serve to drive the little mills which manufacture their grain.

"It was a mild summer day; the beams of the sun, as is not uncommon in Zetland, were moderated and shaded by a silvery haze, which filled the atmos