late fast; but they were so overawed by the dignity of his demeanour, and the undaunted courage of soul which he displayed, that their feelings were at once overcome, and instead of covering him with reproaches, they dissolved into tears of pity at the sight of fallen greatness, and invoked the blessings of heaven upon the head of the illustrious captive. A result so totally unlooked for, could not be but exceedingly displeasing to the enemies of Montrose, and particularly to the ministers, who, on the following day, being Sunday, denounced the conduct of the people from the pulpits of the city, and threatened them with the wrath of heaven.”—vol. ii, pp. 38, 39. The distance which the procession had to travel was but short; yet, by a species of the most refined cruelty, the delay in its progress was such, that it was almost seven o'clock in the evening before it reached the prison, the vehicle occupied by Montrose being made to halt before the residences of some of his deadliest enemies, that they might feast their eyes with the sight. Yet the prisoner betrayed no symptom of inquietude, but preserved, during this trying scene, a dignified composure. When at last released from the cart, he gave the hangman some money for having driven his "triumphal as he termed the cart, so well. car, 66 Agreeably to the order of parliament, Montrose was brought up by the Magistrates of Edinburgh on Monday at ten o'clock A. M. to receive sentence. As if to give dignity and importance to the cause for which he was about to suffer, and to show how indifferent he was to his own fate, Montrose appeared at the bar of the parliament in a superb dress which he had provided for the purpose, after his arrival in Edinburgh. His small clothes consisted of a rich suit of black silk, covered with costly silver lace, over which he wore a scarlet rocket which reached to his knee, and which was trimmed with silver galouns, and lined with crimson taffeta. He also wore silk stockings of a carnation colour, with garters, roses, and corresponding ornaments, and a beaver hat having a very rich silver band. During the night, when free from the intrusion of the ministers, Montrose occupied himself in prayer and mental devotion, and even found leisure to gratify his poetic taste, by composing the following lines, which he wrote upon the window of the chamber in which he was confined. • Let them bestow on every airth a limb, Lord, since thou knowest where all these atoms are, And confident thou'lt raise me with the just.'" vol. ii, pp. 40, 41–44. He was conveyed to the place of execution on the same vehicle by which he had been carried into the city. In addition to his other dress, he was now habited in a superb cloak, which his friends had provided him with. He had been reproached, indeed, by one of his enemies in the morning, for paying too particular attention to his toilet, having been found in the act of combing his hair. But he answered, "While my head is my own, I will dress and adorn it; but to-morrow, when it becomes yours, you may treat it as you please." It was from a total misunderstanding of the man, that such precision about trifles was construed into frivolity. With Montrose, these trifling attentions were proofs of the composure of his mind, the dignity of his character, and what he thought due to the cause for which he was to suffer. As he proceeded to the place of execution, he is said to have had "such a grand air, and so much beauty, majesty, and gravity, appeared in his countenance, as shocked the whole city at the cruelty that was designed him; and extorted even from his enemies this unwilling confession, that he was a man of the most lofty and elevated soul, and of the most unshaken constancy and resolution that the age had produced." "As the fatal hour was fast approaching when this unfortunate nobleman was to bid a last and eternal adieu to sublunary things, he desired the executioner to hasten his preparations. This hated functionary, accordingly brought the book of Montrose's wars, and his late declaration, which, by the sentence, were ordered to be tied round his neck with a cord. Montrose himself assisted in carrying this part of his sentence into execution, and while the operation was performing, good-humouredly remarked, that he considered himself as much honoured then by having such tokens of his loyalty attached to his person, as he had been when his majesty had invested him with the order of the garter. "Hitherto, Montrose had remained uncovered; but, before ascending the ladder which conducted to the top of the gibbet, which rose to the height of thirty feet from the centre of the scaffold, he requested permission to put on his hat. This request was, however, refused. He then asked leave to keep on his cloak; but this favour was also denied him. Irritated, probably at these refusals, he appears for a moment to have lost his usual equanimity of temper, and when orders were given to pinion his arms, he told the magistrates that if they could invent any further marks of ignominy, he was ready to endure them all for the sake of the cause for which he suffered. "On arriving at the top of the ladder, which he ascended with astonishing firmness, Montrose asked the executioner how long his body was to be suspended to the gibbet. 'Three hours' was the answer. He then presented the executioner with three or four pieces of gold, told him he freely forgave him for the part he acted, and instructed him to throw him off as soon as he observed him uplifting his hands. The executioner watched the fatal signal with a throbbing heart, and when the noble victim raised his hands, the ill-fated functionary obeyed the mandate, and gave vent to his sorrow by a flood of tears. A feeling of horror seized the assembled multitude, who expressed their disapprobation by a general groan."-vol. ii, pp. 47, 48. Thus died, at the age of thirty-eight, James Graham, Marquis of Montrose; who, nevertheless, had exerted himself for what at the time seemed a questionable cause; and which, as has since been abundantly established, was the cause of oppression and tyranny. This is admitted fully by the author; although Presbyterians of the stricter class will not coincide with him in many of his indvidual opinions of the most prominent actors and measures, at that distracted period in Scottish history. Our purpose in quoting the above passages, however, was not to canvass opinions, or reconcile the statements chiefly relied on by Dr. Browne, coming, as these do, for the most part from the partisans of Montrose; but to show the vigour and ease of the narrative, abounding as it often does in all the higher qualities of historical composition. The history of the Earl of Mar's insurrection, or the rebellion of 1715, like that of 1745, has been placed in a much clearer light in the present work, as respects motives and facts, than we have ever before found it; and altogether, when taken in connection with what precedes and follows, puts the subject in a perfectly satisfactory shape. We cannot enter into its details, however; but restrict ourselves to a singular letter, written by Mar to his baillie, in the lordship of Kildrummy, on the evening of the day on which he had published a high-flown and liberty-sounding declaration to the adherents of the Chevalier de St. George. The Earl, as is well known, was a subtle and selfish man; but the following curious specimen of feudal despotism belongs to a period when we could hardly have expected that it existed even in the Highlands of Scotland; much less, that it could have been exercised by a refined courtier at the time that he was uttering and publishing the most ardent and arousing language of loyalty and national honour. But yet it is no uncommon occurrence to find the loudest and fairest talkers in public about liberty, the greatest tyrants in private. Invercauld, Sept. 9, at night, 1715. "Jocke,-Ye was in the right not to come with the hundred men ye sent up to-night, when I expected four times the number. It is a pretty thing when all the Highlands of Scotland are now rising upon their king and country's account, as I have accounts from them since they were with me, and the gentlemen of our neighbouring lowlands expecting us down to join them, that my men should be only refractory. Is not this the thing we are now about, which they have been wishing these twenty-six years? And now, when it is come, and the king and country's cause is at stake, will they for ever sit still and see all perish? I have used gentle means too long, and so I shall be forced to put other orders I have in execution. I have sent you enclosed an order for the lordship of Kildrummy, which you are immediately to intimate to all my vassals: if they give ready obedience, it will make some amends, and if not ye may tell them from me, that it will not be in my power to save them (were I willing) from being treated as enemies, by those who are ready soon to join me; and they may depend on it, that I will be the first 666 to propose, and order their being so. Particularly, let my own tenants in Kildrummy know, that if they come not forth with their best arms, that I will send a party immediately to burn what they shall miss taking from them. And they may believe this not only a threat, but, by all that's sacred, I'll put it in execution, let my loss be what it will, that it may be an example to others. You are to tell the gentlemen that I'll expect them in their best accoutrements, on horseback, and no excuse to be accepted of. Go about this with all diligence, and come yourself and let me know your having done so. All this is not only as ye will be answerable to me, but to your king and country. "Your assured friend and servant, "To John Forbes of Inverau, Bailie of Kildrummy.' vol. ii, pp. 270, 271. In the appendix to the second volume of this history, a number of extremely interesting and valuable documents are published for the first time, under the title of the "Stuart Papers," to which his present Majesty has been pleased to permit the author to have access, for the purpose of illustrating the rebellion of 1745. We have already said, that we shall not enter upon this part of the work. As a specimen of Prince Edward's English scholarship, however, and indeed of his intellectual powers, we quote two of his letters, written at a time sufficiently close upon his great enterprise, to satisfy us, that when in this country, little or no advancement could have taken place in his learning or understanding. "Letter.-Prince Charles Edward to James Edgar, Esquire. "PARIS, ye 16th January, 1745. 'I HAVE received to of your letters allong with the King's and Duks. I am very glad you have got so good an occasion of sending sum of my things, but the would be more agreeable to me iff you had the bringing of them yourself. I am going in to or three days to my contry howse, where I will be at full liberty to have the spleen. It is now to months I have not handeled a gun, because of the bad weather and cold, for which I would be called cacciotore di Panbianco by the Duke iff he new it, in revenge for my calling him so formerly. As soon as I am arrived at Fitz james I intend to begin again to shute, but not whin it rens (rains). You see by this that according as one advanses in years one gets reason. Adieu. CHARLES P." vol. ii, pp. 467,468. James Edgar was private Secretary to the Prince's father. The other letter is from the Prince to his father. "SIR, "FITZ JAMES, 5th April, 1745. "I still always continue, thank God, in perfect good health, and that is the only good I can say at present, for I see little apierence of any great thing from the F. C., or of my making the campaign. I have been also refused the Pasports I mentioned to you some posts ago, that had been asked by the Duke of Perth. You may judg by all these things how much reason I have to be out of umer (humour), but notwithstand ing one must submit to the will of God, and have patience, for lett them do what they will to me, it is absolutely and unavoidably necessary to bear with it, coule qui coute. I only hope in the Almighty, that he will reward us for our patience and constance. I shant fail to mention to the B. of Soissons what you tell me by yours of ye 16th March, which I have just now received, and have nothing more to add for the present, having but disagreeable subjects to dwell upon. I lay myself at your majesty's feet, most humbly asking blessing. Your moste dutifull son, CHARLES P."-vol. ii, p. 475. The campaign here alluded to was that of the French Army in Flanders, which the Prince wished to join, that he might be relieved from the state of seclusion in which he was kept by the French government, and also gain some knowledge of military tactics. But we must not go farther into the subject. It is due to the public as well as to the proprietors of the "History of the Highlands and of the Highland Clans,”—which we have shown ourselves so anxious to recommend as a standard work that was much wanted, and which we believe is most extensively patronized and circulated-to state, that it is to be completed in four volumes, consisting of eight parts; four of these have been published, and the remainder are to be issued speedily. ART. X.-Pericles and Aspasia. By WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR, Esq. 2 Vols. London: Saunders & Co. 1836. In his "Imaginary Conversations of Literary Men and Statesmen," Mr. Landor established his right to the title of the English Literary Dramatist. That work displayed no ordinary acquaintance with the great men of antiquity-no ordinary enthusiasm and fidelity in personating their characters and feelings, by turns humourous, tender, quaint, or lofty, as the subject required. Without caricature, and without effort, he seemed to place himself in the situation of the individuals represented, and to utter the very words, and suggest the very sentiments which they themselves would or must have done. It was also well observed of that work, that the author succeeded best when going far back into antiquity, and that according to the distance which the object or character contemplated stood from him, so did his views expand, and the more worthy did he become of the admirable models supposed to be imitated." Accordingly, we remember, that his dialogue between Pericles and Sophocles was one of the happiest efforts which his "Conversations" presented. It is therefore reasonable to expect, when the former of these illustrious names is introduced again, upon a wider field and along with a more numerous array of contemporary personages who are prominent in the temple of fame, that our author's |