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nature, are traced upon a piece of this stone, and the whole || to us a matter of regret that we cannot award to it so afterwards wetted, it is clear that so long as the stone is
much praise as the rest of the volumes deserve. It is damp, if a roller covered with a greasy ink be applied to its face, this greasy ink will have more athinity for the fat lines, ||
|| dry, meagre, and but for the quotations would be previously traced on the stone, than for those parts of the strangely uninteresting. For this Mr. Vieusseux has surface which are wet, and not greasy.
|| no excuse, since his talents and acquirements are abun“2. The possibility of obtaining a series of impressions II dantly equal to the composition of a much superior depends thus, merely, on the application of grease to the surface of a substance always ready to receive and retain it
dissertation. In spite of Mr. Hobhouse's essay, the with avidity. If a part of the stone has received grease, as || translations of Bouterweck and Sismondi, and the octwo, it will retain in that spot the power of receiving, from casional critiques in periodical works, it is surprising a greasy roller, grease, as two, and preserve that property
how very little should be known of the contemporary (in good printing at least) for a great length of time; those parts which have received in the first instance grease, as
literature of Italy. Few even amongst professed lite. ten, will receive, and transmit it as ten, &c.
rary men know any thing beyond a catalogue of names, 63. Thus a portion of grease, or greasy dirt, however I and perhaps three or four of the more notorious classics. small, applied to any part of the surface of the stone, will
It is no answer to say that Italy has not produced much continue to transmit impressions, the intensity of which. will be proportionate to the quantity of grease previously
in our days; the less she has produced, the less is our applied. Let this axiom be well remembered, and laid in excuse for being unacquainted with it, since her living store by all those who wish to be successful in drawing authors and their works are the evidences of the naupon stone; for if they always bear this law in mind, while
tional mind. But the truth is, that the Italian litera. they are making a drawinx, they cannot fail to produce a plate which will print well.
ture of the present period, is by no means contempti6 4. The process of printing from stone, is now so gene ble. Their authors are few, but some of them are men rally known, and understood, that it may appear useless to of genius. In one respect they deserve attentive conrepeat what I have said above; but I think that I cannot
sideration, and that is, in their palpable leaning to the lay sufficient stress on that fundamental principle of lithography, for, well as these rules are known, they are still
English and German schools." continnally forgotten by artists, who think that, provided Mr. Vieusseux after a brief sketch of the vicissitudes the drawing they have executed looks well to the eye, they of Italian literature, and an enumeration of those have done all which is necessary, and that the printer must,
bright stars whose radiance illustrates the 17th and and can, do the rest; forgetting that the face of the stone has, perhaps, been soiled during the execution of the
| 18th centuries, enters upon a survey of its existing drawing, either by chalk cuttings, by rubbing with paper conditions. It is not consistent with our purpose to kept under the hand, by perspiring fingers, and many other notice his enquiry into the improvement of the drama, causes of failure, which we shall mention hereafter, several
under the guiding heads of Goldoni and Gozzi. De of which occasion spots, that disappear the moment they have soiled the stone, to re-appear again, infallibly, in
Rossi is a living author, and has contributed essentially printing. The artist is, of course, surprised at seeing all to revive the taste for national elegant comedy. His those spots come forth, and accuses the printer of that, wit is extremely brilliant, his satire uncommonly which proceeds entirely from his own want of care.
severe, and “his productions," to use the language of "5. It is clear that, were it not for the black contained in the chalk, an almost invisible drawing might be made on
Sismondi, “discover greater power of imagination, stone, which would come forth only in the course of print wit, and truth, than those of any other comic writer of ing; and this is the case with those spots which do not form Italy."'_Giraud, who is likewise a Roman, has sucpart of the drawing, and have taken place from negligence; as they do not shew, the artist considers them of small im
| cessfully followed in the same path, and Nota, the portance, and entirely taken up with the drawing he is Genoese advocate, enjoys a high and well merited executing, he hopes, and thinks, that nothing will print, reputation. His plays are well written and moral, but but what he intends should print. I must therefore again soinewhat deficient in comic power. His pictures of repeat, and enforce, this plain truth, that a lithographic
fashionable manners are lively and effective. stone absorbs, with avidity, any grease applied to its surface, and consequently that any dirt or grease, so applied,
In tragedy the Italians are by no means deficient. will come forth in the printing, as well as that grease which || Monti, Pellico, and Manzoni are very considerable is intended to constitute the drawing."
names. Foscolo, (but he is a Greek,) has written some Want of space obliges us to quit this subject abruptly which are distinguished by a cold correctness. --we shall mention it in our next. Several valuable | Cesarotti is an author who is better known amongst contributions are postponed from the same cause. us than the others :
“ Cesarotti is perbapa, as Forsyth justly observes, of all
the Italian poets of the last century the one who has shown REVIEWS.
powers equal to an original epic; he, however, with the idea of shaking the classic yoke and of opening a new school, in
stead of choosing his own subject, employed his genius to Italy and the Italians in the Nineteenth Century. By give the Italians a free translation of Ossian's poems. His A. VIBUSNEUX. London: C. Knight, 2 vols, 8vo. 1824. object was to show that Homer was not the only, nor the
most perfect, model of epic composition. In so doing, how(Continued from p. 281.)
ever, Cesarotti fell into the opposite extreme from that THAT portion of this work which relates to modern
which he wished to expose, the too great veneration for the
ancient models; he sinned by too great license, and also he Italian literature, we now proceed to notice, and it is did not render sufficient justice to the Greek bard. Ugoni
remarks, that an innovator who rises in the midst of a city, || very distinguished. In the literature of fiction Mr. stationary in the study of letters, is like the prodigal son of || Vieusseux describes them as being very deficient :a miser. In both cases, the example of one vice, and the aversion to it, lead to the opposite extreme.
“ Italian literature, rich so early in novelle or tales, in “ Cesarotti's translation of Ossian's Poems is the best anecdotes and episodes, is extremely scanty in novels in amongst his productions. He has given a new energy to which the whole character and life of the hero is sketched, the Italian language, and has enriched it with new words, ll or, romanzi in prosa, as they are called in Italian. Probaparticularly with compound adjectives, after the manner of bly the facility of writing verse has dissuaded Italian the English and Germans, for which he has been blamed by writers froin writing works of imagination in prose. Probasome critics, but approved by others. He conceived that || bly, also, the example of the Greeks and Romans, upon languages ought not to remain stationary, but should follow || which Italian literature was modelled, prevented its writers the progress of ideas, and that new words should be in- || from applying to a species of composition for which they vented to supply new wants. Cesarotti's Ossian was much || had no example in the ancient languages. Whatever may admired, and became familiar with the Italians; some of || be the reason, the fact is, that, with the exception of the its passages are truly sublime.”
Lettere d' Ortis, Italy has hardly a real original novel, to
be compared to the numerous productions of the kind which Rossi and Leoni have translated Byron with great suc- || | England, Germany, France, and Spain, have produced. cess. The romantic school has many followers in Italy.
The facility of translating and imitating the latter, may be Amongst these, Grossi, the author of « Ildegonda,"|
another reason why nothing original of this sort has been
i produced by an Italian pen. Certainly the country that a poetical romance in ottava rima, is the most distin. |
has given to the world the Inferno, Innamorato, Morgante, guished. Mr. Vieusseux has given from it some copi Gerusalemme, Furioso, and so many other original poems, ous extracts. In lyric composition Pindemonti, Bondi, cannot be suspected to be unproductive of imaginations and Foscolo are the principal writers. The former is
rich enough to write a good work of fancy in prose. Of late
years, several writers have tried the untrodden path of the Goldsmith of Italy. In the fable, Pignotti and novel-writing; among the rest, Sacchi and Berlotti are Bertola are the chief writers amongst a crowd. The fol those who have given the best-grounded hopes of succeedlowing, by Bertola, on the old dispute between blue ing in this undertaking. The former has published, in and black eyes, is very pretty and Metastasian :
1822, a novel called Oriele, or Letters of two Lovers; the second, who has written several works of light and elegant
literature, also sketched a short novel called l’Isoletta de' Gli Occhi azzurri e gli Occhi neri.
Cipressi. Unfortunately both these novels end by suicide. 66 A contesa eran venuti
Yet, notwithstanding these essays, it seems that the ap-
pearance of a good Italian novel remains still a desider-
Such then is a brief outline of the present state of
Italian intellect. Names greatly superior to any men-
tioned above, are given by Mr. V. but as they belong Occhi azzurri han Palla e Giuno:
to the departed we have not included them in our E Ciprigna e d'occhio bruno
sketch. We should feel very glad to meet with a well S'avrian dette anche altre cose,
digested and comphrehensive essay on this interesting Ma fra lor Amor si pose,
subject. It is worth the consideration of some ingeDecidendo tanta lite
nious student, who has any leisure time upon his In tai note, che ha scolpite
hands, and who has been resident any time in Italy. Sopra un codice di Gnido:
Without such residence it would be wholly impossible "Il primato in questi è in quelli
to do justice to the matter.
The Highlands and Western Isles of Scotland, containing In history, however, the modern Italians are still descriptions of their Scenery and Antiquities, with an more successful. Pignotti's Tuscany, Micali's Italy, account of the Political History, Ancient Manners, &c. and Botta's American War, are works of great merit. By John Maculloch, M.D. &c. 4 vols. London: LongLuigi Bossi has begun an immense work on the history man and Co. 1824. of Italy, ancient and modern. Count Cicognara, a distinguished connoisseur, has written a history of sculp
(Continued from p. 289.) ture, which merits to be compared with Lanzi's account A MORE intimate acquaintance with Dr. Maculloch's of painting. In language, Monti has greatly deserved | publication, confirms the opinion we have already the gratitude of Italian scholars by his strenuous efforts expressed. It is full of interest, and its variety of to improve the Vocabolaria della Crusca. In doing matter and liveliness of style, enable us to read the this he excited a controversy, which, in spite of the four octavos without feeling any tediousness. Now and acrimony with which it has been conducted, cannot | then, we could dispense with a little of the merriment, but be highly serviceable to the general interests of as being out of place, but on the whole, there is so their literature. In the sciences, moral and physical, | much good nature in his mirth, and so much good they are not without their authors, though with the sense in his loquacity, that nothing but mere fastidiousexception of Gioja, the political economist, none areness could quarrel with him. The volumes of Dr. M.
Per suo cenno
no un pastor fido
are not mere topographical surveys : they abound with | landscape, wonderful as it is, receives a great accession of sensible and pertinent observations upon almost every
splendour and magnificence, by admitting, on one side, a
| distant view of the richly ornamented country which exsubject. He interrupts a description in order to praise
I tends from the foot of the Ochills to the Forth; the water the adoption or censure the rejection of some manifest itself gleaming bright in the distance, and the borizon terimprovement, to advance some principle, refute some minating in the hazy forms and long, retiring, hilly range paradox, or illustrate some theory ; pouring forth the
of the opposite shore. But it would be vain to attempt to rich stores of a well informed mind upon a subject
describe scenes titted only for the pencil, and by a singular
felicity of composition adınirably adapted to its powers, which has for many years been familiar to him,
even where, from occupying so high a point of view, the The Doctor excels in description of natural scenery. landscapes might be expected to lie beyond its scope and His sensibility to that kind of beauty seems to be very
means. With a perfect unity and balance of composition
from all points, a characteristic foreground is never wantgreat, and there is much fluency and warmth in his
ing; while without breach of perspective, all the objects language. We give the following, not as being the follow each other in that succession, from the very nearest best, but as the most manageable extract we can foreground to the remotest distance, which is so rarely find :
found in this class of elevated landscape, and which is so
essential to a perfect composition. There is nothing base"But it is for Castle Campbell that I have brought you less, nothing tottering, nothing of that obliquity of line, here; not for scenes among which days and weeks might and defective balance, and violent contrast between the be occupied without thinking them long. The general nearer grounds and the distance, which form so general a glimpse of this place, as it is seen from the village of Dol. character of elevated landscape, and which so commonly lar, is sufliciently striking; but those who are satisfied render them unfit for painting, however striking or grand with this superticial vie
1 view, will form a very inadequate ll they may be in nature. idea indeed of the grandeur and variety of this extraordi " There is access to the castle at the only point where its nary scenery. In advancing towards the ravine, the im hill is connected with the surrounding mountains; where portance and interest of this first picture becomes mate some ancient and noble sycamores, the remains of an averially increased; as the castle is now more distinctly seen, Il nue, add much to the picturesque effect of the building. perched on its lofty conical hill, and embosomed deep in
in || While its extent is such as to be adequate to the grandeur the surrounding mountains that appear to overhang it, of the landscape by which it is surrounded, its forms are shadowing it with a perpetual gloom ; continuous woods picturesque in a high degree; and it is in that precise state sweeping up the steep acclivities on each hand, and the of ruin which is sufficient to add to its beauty and interest, wild river bursting out from the deep and mysterious without destroying its importance. From the very narrow ravine, amidst overhanging trees and rocks, as if it had area around it, the views are fearfully sublime; while it is suddenly sprung from the centre of the earth. Many also impossible to quit its walls but for a few yards, without magnificent landscapes of this strange and wonderful spot | the risk of being hurled into the unknown depths of the may be procured from different stations at the bottom of surrounding valley. So steep is the declivity all round, the valley, and by changing from one side to the other of that the eye sees not the slope of the ground on which it is the river; the essential parts of the picture continuing the standing ; looking down on a dark and interminable chasm same, while the lofty side screens of wood alter their form between the opposing woods, and striving in vain to peneand position, and the features become varied by new trees II trate those deep recessee which even the light and banks and rocks, and by the changes in the aspect of reaches not. A frightful chasm in the hill itself, guarded this picturesque and winding river. But in every position, by an outwork, appears once to have served the purpose of it maintains its gloomy and solemn character: a depth and giving access to the water below. It is called Kemp's a breadth of shadow, at all hours of the day, in singular ll Score, and still bears some marks of a stairca harmony with the noble sweep of the woods, the towering that Castle Campbell was originally called the Castle of majesty of the mountains, and the bold and simple form of Gloom, and that these lands were given by a Bishop of the hill which rises with inaccessible steepness from be St. Andrew'g to an Earl of Argyll, as a reward for his low. crowned with its romantic castle, a mountain in itself, ll assistance in a dispute respectinu precedency with the See yet overtopped by the vast amphitheatre around, which, of Glasgow. The date of the building is, however, uncerlifting itself to the sky, impends over it in all the sublimity tain, though the estate was possessed by the Campbells in of shadowy twilight and repose.
1465. In 1644 or 5, it was burnt by Montrose; since which " But whatever grandeur or variety Castle Campbell llit has remained a ruin.". may present from below, these are far excelled by the views from above, which offer scenes of magnificence and subli We should be ashamed of giving such copious quomity not surpassed in Scotland, and possibly not surpassed l tations were it not that the very nature of the work any where. It adds no small interest to this scenery, that it bears not the slightest resemblance to any thing in the
forbids analysis, and the author's style is so lively that country, nor to any thing that an imagination, however it will be read with far greater interest than any thing conversant with Scottish landscape, could bave conceived. we could say. The following amusing sketch of a Various as are the pictures from different positions, one
| Highland inn will serve as our excuse :general character pervades the whole. The eye, from whatever point, here takes in the whole sweep of this noble " When you hear Peggy called, as if the first vowel amphitheatre of hill and wood, plunging in inaccessible was just about to thaw, like Sir John Mandeville's story, steepness beneath our feet, down to the invisible depths
pths ll and when you hear Peggy answer, coming, you below, in one sheet of wild' forest, and towering aloft and must not prepare to be impatient, but recollect that motion overhead, a range of simple and majestic mountain sum cannot be performed without time. If you are wet, the fire mits. In the midst arises the conical mountain now seen will be lighted by the time you are dry,-at least is the peat below us, and bearing its romantic fortress, insulated in the ll is not wet too. The smoke of wet peat is wholesome ; and deep hollow; its inaccessible sides being lost to the eye as if you are not used to it, they are, which is the same thing. they tend downwards to the dark depths of the surrounding There is neither poker nor tonys; you can stir it with your chasms beneath, where the river struggles amid its rocks umbrella: nor bellows; you can blow it, unless you are and woods, unseen and unheard. From some points this asthmatic: or what is better still, Peggy will fan it with her
petticoat. " Peggy, is the supper coming ?” In time | snooded, one hand in her head, and the other, no one comes muttori, called chops, then mustard, by and bye a knows where, as she is wondering when the kettle will not knife and fork; successively, a plate, a candle, and salt. | boil; while, if she had a third, it might be employed on the When the mutton is cold, the pepper arrives, and then the other two. But enough of Mrs. Maclarty and her generabread, and lastly the whisky. The water is reserved for tion; for I am sure you can have no inclination to partake the second course. It is good policy to place these various || with me of the breakfast, which will probably be ready in matters in all direc
ns. Because they conceal the defects | two hours.” of Mrs. Maclarty's tablecloth. By this time the fire is dying; Pexgy waits till it is dead, and then the whole pro
We cannot give any passages from the elaborate cess of the peats and the petticoat is to be gone over again. dissertation on Highland dress It does not contain a It is all in vain. “Is the bed ready?” By the time you great deal of information, but what it tells, it teils have fallen asleep once or twice, it is ready. When you
pleasantly. Whenever he comes to any of those places enter, it is damp: but how should it be dry in such a climate? The blankets feel so heavy, that you expect to get
which the pen of Sir Walter Scott has rendered celewarm in time. Not at all: they have the property of brated, he regularly launches out into a panegyricou weight without warmth, though there is a fulling mill at Sir Walter, and a sarcasm on the Cockneys; that is, on Kilmahog. You awaken at two o'clock, very cold, and find
all those who admire genius, and love to wander about that they have slipped over on the floor. You try to square them awain, but such is their weight, that they fall || the scenes which it has consecrated by its touch. This on the other side; and at last, by dint of kicking and pull- || is bad taste in our friend, in spite of its being so cleing, they become irremediably entangled, sheets and all, || verly done. He is talking of Aberfoyle:and sleep fies, whatever King Henry may think, to take refuge in other beds and other blankets.
“ But whatever enchantment that pen of yours, whether "It is vain to try again, and you get up at five. Water wielded by yourself or your shadow, may have thrown over being so contemptibly common, it is probable that there is | these scenes, there is a compensation of evil in it, to us who none present; or if there is, it has a delicious favour of have lived in other years. In the early days when I wanstale whisky; so that you may almost imagine the Highland | dered first among these wild and lovely regions, there was rills to run grog. There is no soap in Mrs. Maclarty's an old romance in every thing,-in the lakes, in the hills, house. It is prudent also to learn to shave without a look- || in the woods, and in the streains, as there was in the tales ing-glass; because if there is one, it is so furrowed and of former years, that were repeated in every house; a striped and striated, either cross-wise, or perpendicularly, charm, gilding alike the present and the past, causing the or diaconally, that in consequence of what Sir Isaac New-hea
heart to beat at the name of the clans and heroes of old, ton might call its fits of irregular retiection and transmis brightening every blue mountain and hoary rock, and sion, you cut your nose if it distorts you one way, and your breathing from every whispering birch, and from every bilear if it protracts you in the opposite direction. The towel low that curled on the pebbly shore. But the mystic porbeing either wet or dirty, or both, you wipe yourself in the U tal has been thrown open, and the mob has rushed in, dismoreen curtains, unless you prefer the sheets. When you persing all these fairy visions, and polluting every thing return to your sitting-room the table is covered with with its unhallowed touch. Barouchies and gigs, cocknies glasses and muss, and circles of dried whisky and porter. | and fishermen and poets, Glasgow weavers and travelling
e is full of white ashes: you labour to open all haberdashers, now swarm in every restiny place, and me window, if it will open, that you may get a little of the | us at every avenue. As Rob Roy now blusters at Coventmorning air; and there being no sash-line, it falls on your garden and the Lyceum, and as Aberfoyle is gone to Wapfingers, as it did on Susanna's. Should you break a pane, | ping, so Wapping and the Strand must also come to Aberit is of no consequence, as it will never be mended again. || foyle. The green-coated fairies have packed up their alls The clothes which you sent to be washed are brought up and quitted the premises, and the Uriskins only caper now wet, and those which you sent to be dried, smoked.
in your verses. If I have lived to see these changes, I must "You now become impatient for the breakfast; and as it | be thankful that I lived before them; and I may be thankful will not arrive. you go into the kitchen to assist in making ll too that I have been able to wander where the sound of the kettle boil. You will not accelerate this, but you will Cockayne, which has gone out into all lands, is yet unsee the economy of Mrs. Maclarty's kitchen. The kettle, known. But the circle of pollution is spreading fast, to the an inch thick, is hanging on a black crook in the smoke, not far north and the remote west; and as the old Highlander on the fire, likely to boil to-morrow. If you should be near || said
hen the law had come to Tain. I also may say, take a forest, there is a train of chips lying from the fire-place care of yourselves to the north,' the troops of Cockayne to the wood-corner, and the landlady is busy, not in sepa are let loose and will soon be upon you. Time was, when I rating the two, but in picking out any stray,piece that seems strayed about these wild scenes, and, as I listened to the likely to be lighted before its turn comes. You need not endless tales of Rob Roy and his Mac Gregors, could imaask why the houses do not take fire, because it is all that | gine myself glorying in past times, as if I also had been the fire itself can do, with all its exertions. Round this i sprung from the children of the Mist. But now they have fire are a few oat cakes, stuck on edge in the ashes to dry; | found their way to every circulating library, Brighton and perhaps a herring; and on the floor, at hand, are a heap or || Margate flaunt in tartan, the citizen from Pudding Lane two of bed-clothes, a cat, a few melancholy fowls, a couple | talks of Loch Hard ; and recollections of Miss Stephens, of black dog , and perchance a pig, or more, with a pile of Diana Vernon, and Liston, with the smell and smoke of gas undescribables, consisting of horse collars, old shoes, petti- | lights, and cries of " Music, Off, Of;" confound the other coats, a few dirty plates and horn spoons, a kilt, possibly a senses, and recal base realities where there was once a de
pe, a wooden beaker, an empty gill and a pint stoup, a || licious vision. water bucket, a greasy candlestick, a rake, a spinning “ These are among the things which prevent us, who wheel, two or three frowsy fleeces and a shepherd's plaid, | have fallen upon these evil days, from now viewing ancient an iron pot full of potatoes, a never-washed milk-tub, Highland manners, and listening to ancient Highland stosome more potatoes, a griddle, a three-lessed stool, and I ries, and entering into all the spirit of clanship and roheaven and earth knows what more. All this time, two or mance, and wild chivalry, as many would fain flatier themthree naked children are peeping at you out of some unin selves they still do. We look to the dark backward and
recens, perchance contesting with the chickens | abyss of time, in search of all these illusions, in vain. The and the dogs for the fire, while Peggy is sitting over it uno | mist has rolled away ; and the provoking rays of provoking
reason and truth display past images in all their native || such like things, one man with a knot on his shoulder, shapes and hues, even where they have not, as here, lost said, it is a pity to carry them to the inn, only to bring their magic, by intimacy and by the fatal effects of vulgar || them down again ; it is putting you to expense for nothing.' associations. Who can even hope to tell a Highland tale, We should listen long for such a speech in London. But in the teeth of such company as this. You talk of Rob | this is partly Highland and partly Lowland: and as I have Roy's cave, or of Inversnaid, or Ben Lomond, and your now and then thrown a stone at your countrymen south of hearer immediately figures to himself a few feet of painted || the · Grampian chain,' it is but fair to give them the praise canvas and twenty-four fiddlers. You speak of a creagh, which is amply their due. There is a high point of honour but the mysterious vague is over and past, and there arises | among them, as among the Highlanders, which it is quite to the eye, a drove of bullocks pricking into Smithfield delightful to see ; putting out of question the petty ecomarket. So I must even strip poor Rob and his oppressed | nomy of our purses which it may favour: for it is not the clan as naked as ever the law did, since I dare not pass over paltry loss of a few miserable shillings which is the evil such important personages, and exhibit them to you in the || from which we ever sufler, but the ocious and fraudulent style of the Newgate calendar.”
spirit which accompanies the imposture." After a historical sketch of the Macgregor clan, the
As to the travelling in the western parts of the HighDoctor indulges in a long essay upon the art of draw
| lands it is by no means pleasant. The Doctor paitiing, as a sort of vindication for the frequency of
cularly objects to the gastronomical privations. But his descriptions of scenery. With all the scientific
there his philosophy gets the better of his appetites, and eulogistic parts of this essay, we fully agree ; but | and he reconciles every thing with a reflection : we confess some of the jokes are a little too stale for “For indeed the gastronomy of this country is not comour palates, and others a little too dull. As a speci.
mendable: nor aught that is connected with it. A dumb
waiter is but a substitute, at best; but what is that to a men of the latter, we give the following of an old lady
deaf one. At Callander, you may ring the bell forty times the Doctor once met at Bullock's Museum :
in a quarter of an hour, or else for a quarter of an hour at
one time: it is pretty much the same. At Luss, you wait " Among other things, there was a bronze of the well four hours for your dinner, the cloth being laid ; and if known wolf; and her companion, who was reading the cata there be any bread, you have devoured it all before the logue, came to the names of Romulus and Remus. Romu dinner arrives. When it does, it consists of herrings lus, said the old lady: Ah, I remember, he was Serjeant which might have been cooked in ten minutes, and of mut. at arms in the time of Burdett's riots.' T'he good old gen ton which was cooked yesterday. Unless, indeed, the time tlewoman had entangled her identities in no common man. has been more justitiably expended in killing the sheep. ner; first confounding the Officer of the House with Sir At Broadíord there is a picturesque dish of milk set on the Samuel Romilly, and then turning him into the Roman table at four o'clock, with salt, mustard, and knives and King."
forks. The p:oblem is how to eat milk with a knife and Our author appears to entertain a favourable opinion
fork; but, at tive, a shoulder of mutton enters to apologize of the Highland character. His opportunities for
for them. In half an hour more, you have a plate full of
potatoes and the cheese ; and when you have eaten the becoming acquainted with it were great, and there is cheese and said grace, you receive a dish of fish. At this no reason for questioning his impartiality. He prefers very Kinloch Rannoch, you are promised kale, good mutton giving anecdotes of their habits, feelings and disposi
kale: you mistake kale for cabbage, foolishly enough; and
find a species of barley cabbage spangled with the glittering tions, to any generalized essay upon their character,
drops elicited from a few mutton bones, in which it is disa and we think with great judgment. Some of these cult to discover whether the meat or the bone is hardest. anecdotes are favourable, and others not so; for in- ||
Supposing also that you travel in the mutton time of the stance :
year :-for if you do not-the mution is placed on the
table. Do you prefer it roasted or boiled. Only wish, and “ I was on an expedition to Sky. Loch Cateran lay in the thing is before you. If roasted, it bas been so begravied my way; two young countrymen were in a boat : I asked || with bot water that it is boiled: if boiled, it has been kept them to row me across ; and this was done. I offered them so long at the fire, to wait for the salt, or the mustard, or half a crown, which was repulsed, with some indignation, | Peggy, that it is roasted. Then, what with dry potatoes, but politely expressed: They did not put me over for the | dry oatcakes, and the water of the Tay and the Tuinel, and like of that.' I imagine, however, that English communi of all the rivers of the Highlands, of which you cannot cation has improved their manners of late; as this was not procure one drop, you are shortly in the condition of Panan adventure of
I arrived in due time in Sky. Il tacruel when he had breakfasted on Euphorbium. WhatI asked the same question on the shore of a strait of the ever you do, beware of that thing called a mutton-chop. same breadth. “Aye, aye, we'll put ye across, but it's two | Boiled fowls you may know by the impossibility of eating guineas for the boat.' A Portsmouth wherry would have I them, any more than as you might eat oakum; and roasted done as much for a shilling. Am I to say that a Highlander | ones, by the blackness of their skins. Engs, there are none is generous, or must I call him an extortioner; here are ir- || in mutton time; because then the hens are confined, as reconcileable facts for an hypothesis on national character. |the phrase is here: and the effect of confinement on hens Montesquieu would say that it was because the climate of is just the reverse of what it is pon our own females. If Sky differed from that of Loch Cateran.
the salt is black, however, the table cloth is white. Thus * Then, to balance all this, I have had my watch re- || censure delights in many words, and praise in few. Eat paired in Cromarty by an artist whom I could not induce to your dinner, prepare for it with Spartan sauce, drink your name a price or take a fec; my shoes have been mended on w bisky, and above all keep your good humour ; for after all the same terms at Comrie, and my nether garments by the || what is a dinner when it is eaten. Would tbat life had voShemus-na-snahdt who keeps the inn at Kinloch Rannoch. I thing worse than the worst Highland dinner you and I shall But what is this to Greenock; where your baggage is pulled | ever be condemned to eat." and hauled and carried about by boys and men, who seem never to trouble themselves whether they get a reward or
This must suffice for the present week, not. Being somewhat bewildered once with trunks and
(To le continued.)