we have always been of opinion that it was profitable for The Edinburgh Review is good this time. The article on the China Trade is satisfactory. The review of Dr Bowring's Translations is discriminative and candid; the friendly tone in which it is composed is, considering the late war between the Edinburgh and Westminster, highly creditable. The review of M'Culloch's Principles of Political Economy, is no review, but two essays upon different branches of that science tied together, with an encomiastic paragraph on the Professor's work tagged to their tail. The article on the Civil Disabilities of the Jews, is powerful as a piece of abstract reasoning; but the author, like most Englishmen, does not know the character of that nation. The article on the Spirit of Society in England and France, is good, but full of affectation; that on the Principles of Belief and Expectation, logical; that on the Capital Punishment of Forgery, twaddling; that on the Irish Novels, good again. Besides these, there are articles purporting to treat of the Evangelical School; Professor Sandford's Translation of Thiersch's Greek Grammar; Irish Courts of Quarter Sessions; and Mr Sadler. Last of all comes an article on the Late and Present Ministry. It has of late been the custom of the Edinburgh to wind up every Number with a bulletin of that party of which it is the standard-bearer and rallying point. The present, therefore, we conclude to be a ministerial manifesto; and as such, recommend it to the devout perusal of our readers. He tells us that he MR HAIGH is a very lucky man. had "an opportunity of seeing, with more than a cursory eye, the principal events which have taken place in that quarter (viz. Chili and Peru) for the last fourteen years." On consulting his book, we find that he landed at Buenos Ayres in the autumn of 1817, and quitted it'in autumn 1819. He again visited South America in 1824, and remained three years. It was very kind in the "principal events" to happen all within comparatively brief periods, at a considerable interval, just to enable Mr | Haigh to view them" with more than a cursory eye." But Mr Haigh is also a very provoking man. After telling us what a lucky man he has been, in the matter of "seeing with more than a cursory eye,” [perhaps he saw with two cursory eyes;] and again, how, "during his residence in Arequipa, he had an opportunity of seeing the true nature of the mining concerns, the details of which would fill a volume," he turns short round upon us with" It is not, however, my intention here to give the history of the rise, progress, decline, and fall of those so hastily formed associations," &c. The consequence is, that he tells us nothing about the matter; and thus it is through the whole volume. This is something like what the vulgar term, "selling a bargain"-raising our expectations, in order to disappoint them. It is like the venerable nursery joke :-"Can you keep a secret?”"Yes."-" So can I." It is like the servant's description of Autolycus's song in "The Winter's Tale:"-" He has the prettiest love songs for maids; jump her, and thump her; and where some stretch-mouthed rascal means mischief, he makes the maid answer, Whoop, do me no harm, good man: puts him off, slights him, with Whoop, do me no harm, good man.” Lastly, Mr Haigh is a very mysterious man. We cannot fancy what took him to South America. In the large towns, and among fashionable society, he is quite the gentleman. We hear of nothing but dinners and wines; tertulias, waltzing, eyes, shapes, and modesty. In crossing the Pampas, however, it turns out that he carries a box of ribbons with him, and for a moment the reader is inclined to believe that he has caught him-he is a man-milliner. But no; we have been too hasty— we have got, as Homer says, the wrong sow by the ear. At St Jago we find him disposing of a cargo of sabres. We cannot tell what to make of Mr Haigh. He is a Cheapside Proteus-a chameleon of Tottenham-Court Road. Another It is time, however, that we leave the author, and turn to his book. One half of it is dedicated-we beg pardon of our fair readers—we have some foolish palpitations, attributable solely to our having been educated at home instead of being sent to a public school-but in the cause of science and truth we will conquer those unworthy misgivings ;— one half of the book, then, is dedicated to a narrative of his nocturnal encounters in bed with—fleas. portion is occupied with nice discriminations between the bite of the above-mentioned insect and that of the red mosquito. Then we have a picturesque, and rather sublime, account of the author's scamper across the deserts of South America after his ribbons and swatches, and a graphic narrative of his ride what time a chivalrous fit led him to gird himself with sword and pistol, and haste to the battle-field, time enough to see the monks confessing some who had fallen in the fray. We have nothing more of any consequence. Seriously, we could not imagine why such a book should be published: and this problem might still have been tormenting us, had it not been for a contemporary critic. This Daniel come to judgment informs us that it is chiefly valuable as being "posterior in appearance, but prior in date," to other works professing to be descrip tive of the same countries. Now, we in our simplicity had imagined this to be a disadvantage. We thought the person who saw only the commencement of a struggle less qualified to describe it than he who was in at the death. And we never dreamed that a half-told tale could be rendered more important by the auditor's being already in possession of the whole truth. These, however, are mere matters of opinion, and we propound them with becoming diffidence. The English School; a Series of the most approved Productions in Painting and Sculpture, executed by British Artists, from the Days of Hogarth to the Present Time; Selected, Arranged, and Accompanied with Descriptive and Explanatory Notices in English and French. By G. Hamilton. Engraved in outline upon steel. London. 1830. Nos. 7, 8, 9. Landscape Illustrations of the Waverley Novels. Engraved by William and Edward Finden. London: Charles Tilt. Edinburgh: Thomas Ireland. 1830. No. VIII. National Portrait Gallery of Illustrious and Eminent Personages of the Nineteenth Century. With Memoirs, by William Jerdan, Esq. No. XXI. London. Fisher, Son, & Co. 1830. MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. MORE VICTIMS. By Robert Chambers. Victims, as those who read my last lucubration upon the subject must be aware, are a set of mortals standing in the same relation to ordinary men, as fallen angels to their celestial brethren. The race may be known by the depleation of their clothes, their lank cheeks, and peaked chins; or by their haunts, which are ever obscure and little frequented, such as the Low Calton, or the South Back of the Canongate. Lastly, they may be known by their vespertilious habit of appearing only when they cannot be seen-in the thickening of the twilight. one, however, whether he has read my former essay or not, needs to have the race described to him: he has only to call up the memory of a set of old poor-devil acquaintances, who come to him every now and then in quest of small change, in order to be completely aware of the people whose natural history is now in the course of being detailed. No means of livelihood to the poor, or to each other. Victims Hamilton of in Lanarkshire, originally a landed gentleman and an advocate at the Scottish bar, I had occasion in my last paper to remark the assistance and succour which the necessitous afford to the necessitous, and to show that, instead of being chiefly benefited by the rich, as might be supposed, victims are THE first of these works is a neat, cheap, and unpre-in reality indebted for the chief part of their precarious tending book. Each number contains six outline engravings of a painting by some British master. The selection is in general good, and the execution spirited. We are thus put in possession of something to remind us of the graces of composition, and the sentiment of the original-not unfrequently of a good deal of its expression. The numbers now before us contain, among others, Stephanoff's "Visit to Rich Relations;" West's "Lear in the Storm," and "Regulus;" Wilkie's" Jew's Harp ;" Opie's "Death of Rizzio;" a "Landscape," by Wilson; and "Cottage Children," by Gainsborough. We like to have such a book beside us, into which we can occasionally take a peep, in order to refresh our memory. We wish its deserving publisher success, and better explanatory notices. We have, on a former occasion, expressed our approbation of the "Landscape Illustrations of the Waverley Novels." Part VIII. contains a most beautiful and poetically-conceived view of Conisborough Castle, by De This work ought to have a place in every bou Wint. doir. was a blood of the first water in the dissolute decade Then The "National Portrait Gallery of Illustrious and Eminent Personages"—such a title is enough to damn any work-grows worse and worse. The engravings are either bad in themselves, or from plates which have once been good, but worn out and vamped up anew. No. XXI. contains three portraits :-the Marquis Anglesey-where he had formerly shone a resplendent sun; neither a libel on the painting by Sir Thomas Lawrence, from which it is taken; Sir John Franklin-a libel upon that daring seaman himself; and the Earl of Carlisle, upon which we decline offering any remarks. If the editor, or editors, of the work wish it to succeed, they must give us such engravings as that of Dr Thomas Young, in No. XV., and Abernethy, in No. XVIII. There is no great harm in any of Mr Jerdan's " Illustrative Memoirs" -as indeed we had anticipated. could he bring his well-born face to solicit his former friends for subsidies. Nanny did all that was necessary. Foul day and fair day, she was to be seen gliding about the streets, either petitioning tradesmen for goods to her master on credit, or collecting food and money from the houses of his acquaintance. If a liquid alms was offered, she had a white tankard, streaked with smoky-looking cracks, for its reception; if the proffered article was a mass of flesh, she had a plate or a towel. There never was such a forager. Hamilton himself used to call her, TRUE AND TRUSTY," by way of a compliment to her col American Stories for little Boys and Girls: intended for lective powers; and he finally found so much reason to Children under ten years of age. Edited by Mary Rus-appreciate her disinterested attachment, that, on reaching sell Mitford. Three volumes, 12mo. London. Whit- the usual fatal period of fifty, he made her his wife! taker, Treacher, & Co. 1831. Such is the history of one fag-victim. A COLLECTION very creditable to the nursery literature 01 our Transatlantic brethren. There are, however, plenty of amiable ladies quite competent to the selection and arrangement of the tales contained in the present work. Miss Mitford should reserve herself for more important tasks. ANOTHER. Some years ago, there flourished in the High Street of Edinburgh a Mr who dealt very extensively in the spirit trade. In his prosperous days, he had secured the services of a lad from Gilmerton as a porter. By and by, he was unfortunate, as it is called, in business. The lad, who had become a clever and use ful servant, did not then seek another place. Habit had so fixed him in the employment of his first master, that he felt as if it would tear his heart-strings, to go elsewhere. The master, who was one of the most undestructible victims that ever fell under our observation, soon contrived to turn this attachment to some account. Unable to appear again in business under his own name, he set up, in a smaller way than formerly, under that of his servant. It is needless to particularize the subsequent history of the pair. Suffice it to say, that for a dozen years they have subsisted together, with a constant appearance of business, and yet, perhaps, scarcely ever paying either the king, the landlord, or the merchant. At one time, you will find the little modest sign projected from the cheek of a door at the bottom of the Canongate. By and by, you will detect it, amidst a host of others, over a close-head in the Cowgate. Next, perhaps, you find it somewhere about the head of Leith Walk. Soon after, taking a short walk in a Saturday afternoon, you find it shooting up above the thatch of a red-and-yellow cottage at Libberton Dams, or Muttonhole. Then, again, you are astonished, some months after, to find it has got back to town, and reared itself over the door of some laigh shop in one of the new streets of the suburbs. We have often mentally compared the migrations of this strange copartnery to a certain scene in "Rob Roy," where that Highland hero is represented as making his escape from a party of soldiers, by swimming under the surface of a deep river, and only now and then coming up for breath. In like manner, they seem to duck and dive under and throughout the town, coming up every now and then at remote and unthought-of corners, and then sinking again. In all conditions and kinds of shop, the servant is the front-rank man, the active partner, the forager. The master sits in some obscure den behind, like a butteryspirit, enjoying the fruits of his servant's industry, and plotting new schemes for raising the wind, in the execution of which schemes "the lad" is constantly engaged. The firm has now subsisted for a considerable time, in defiance of all moving accidents by jail and caption. And how much longer it may survive, depends, we suppose, upon the pleasure of death alone; for no other power in the world seems to have strength enough to break it. THE THIRD, and only other instance of the fag-victim which can be given here, is of a much more touching character than either of the above, and seems to make it necessary for the writer of these trifling essays to protest, beforehand, against being thought a scoffer at the misery of his fellow-creatures. He begs it to be understood that, however light the language in which he speaks, he hopes that he can look with no other than respectful feelings upon human nature, in a suffering, and, more especially, a self-denying form. Some years ago, there flourished, in one of the principal thoroughfares of Edinburgh, a fashionable perfumer, the inheritor of an old business, and a man of respectable connexions; who, finally falling into dissolute habits, became, of course, very much embarrassed, and finally "unfortunate." In his shop, "From youth to age a reverend 'prentice grew ;" a man, at the time of his master's failure, advanced to nearly middle life, but who, having never been anywhere else since he was ten or twelve years of age, than behind's counter-Sundays and meal-hours alone excepted-was still looked upon by his master as "the boy of the shop," and so styled accordingly. This worthy creature had, in the course of time, become as a mere piece of furniture in the shop: his soul had fraternized (to use a modern French phrase) with his situation. The drawers and shuttles, the combs, brushes, and bottles, had entered into and become part of his own existence; he took them all under the wide-spreading boughs of his affections; they were to him, as the infant to the mother, part of himself. He was on the best terms with every thing about the shop; the handles of all things were fitted to his hand; every thing came to him, to use a proverbial expression of Scotland, like the bowl of a pint-stoup. In fact, like a piece of wood placed in a petrifying spring, this man might be said to have been transfigured out of his original flesh and blood altogether, and changed into a creature participating in the existence and qualities of certain essences, perfumes, wigs, pomades, drawers, wig-blocks, glass-cases, and counters, forming the materiel of Mr -'s establishment. Such a He being was, as may be supposed, a useful servant. knew all the customers; he knew his master's whole form of practice, all his habits, and every peculiarity of his temper. And then the fidelity of the creature,-but that was chiefly shown in the latter evil days of the shop, and during the victimhood of his master. As misfortune came on, the friendship of master and man became more intensely familiar and intimate than it had ever been before. As the proudest man, met by a lion in the desert, makes no scruple to coalesce with his servant in resisting it, so was induced by the devouring monster Poverty to descend to the level, and make a companion, of his faithful "boy." They would at last go to the same tavern together, take the same Sunday walkswere, in reality, boon companions. In all ——————'s distresses the boy partook; if any thing "occurred about a bill," as Crabbe says, it was the "boy" who had the chief dolour of its accommodation; he would scour the North and South Bridges, with his hat off, borrowing small silver à l'improviste, as if to make up change to a customer, till he had the necessary sum amassed. The "boy" at length became very much demoralized; he grew vicious towards the world, to be the more splendidly virtuous to his master: the grand redeeming quality, after the manner of Moses's serpent, had eaten up all the rest. It were needless to pursue the history of the shop through all its stages of declension. Through them all the "boy" survived, unshaken in his attachment. The shop might fade, grow dim, and die, but the "boy" never. The goods might be diminished, the Duke of Wellington might be sold for whisky, and his lady companions pawn their wigs for mutton-pies, but the "boy" was a fixture. There was no pledging away his devoted, inextinguishable friendship. The master at length went to the Canongate jail-we say went to, in order to inform the sentimental part of mankind that imprisonment is seldom done in the active voice, people generally incarcerating themselves with the most philosophical deliberation, and not the least air of compulsion in the matter. The shop was still kept open, and the "boy" attended it. But every evening did he repair to the dreary mansion, to solace his master with the news of the day, see after his comforts, and yield up the prey which, jackall-like, he had collected during the preceding four-and-twenty hours. This prey, be it remarked, was not raised from the sale of any thing in the shop. Every saleable article had by this time been sold. The only furniture was now a pair of scissors and a comb, together with the announcement, "Hair-cutting rooms," in the window. By means of these three things, however, the boy contrived generally to fleece the public of a few sixpences in the day; and all these sixpences, with the exception of a small commission for his own meagre subsistence, went to his master at the Canongate jail. Often, in the hour between eight and nine in the evening, have they sat in that small dingy back-room behind the large hall, enjoying a bottle of strong ale, drunk out of stoneware tumblers-talking over all their embarrassments, and speculating how to get clear of them. Other prisoners had their wives or their brothers to see after them; but we question if any one had, even in these relations of kindred, a friend so attached as the "boy." At length, after a certain period, this unfortunate tradesman was one evening permitted to walk away, arm-in-arm with his faithful "young man," and the world was all before them where to choose. We are unable to trace their further history for a considerable period. But we doubt not it led them through many changes of misery; for at the only part of their career upon which we have happened to obtain any light, the "boy" was wandering through the streets of a town in the north of England-we think Carlisle-in the dress and appearance of a very old beggar, and singing the songs wherewith he had formerly delighted the citizens of Edinburgh in Mrs Manson's and Johnnie Dowie's, for the subsistence of his master; who, as ascertained by my informant, was deposited, in a state of sickness and wretchedness transcending all description, in a low lodging-house in a back street! It is needless to moralize upon this tale. It is true. GALLERY OF THE ROYAL INSTITUTION. m-mi--rit # THE materials for our former exhibitions of ancient pictures were derived from the contributions of private collectors—a circumstance which gave occasion to the utterance of an immense quantity of nonsense. If a harsh word was uttered regarding the merits of a picture, or a doubt hinted of its authenticity, a clamour was immediately raised about the liberality of the proprietor in exhibiting it,-shameful want of delicacy in hurting the reputation of private property,-public ingratitude, &c. &c. It is needless now to enter into any argument upon this subject, to show that individuals of a sound judgment, who collect to gratify their own taste, will not be shaken by unjust abuse that the vainglorious, ignorant, and tasteless, who only ape the fashion, and bring their pictures before the publio to gratify their own vanity, have no claim to mercy. We have now got pictures before us, of which, as public property, it is our duty, as much as our inclination, to speak freely. To an honest man, there can be no more painful feeling than that of being obliged by his own conviction to praise, when he knows that an outcry would be raised against him if he dared to blame. As yet, only seventeen of the pictures purchased by the Institution have arrived. Of these the most valuable are, without a doubt, the three Vandykes-pictures calculated to excite admiration in any collection, and worthy to be the nucleus round which a National Gallery is to gather. The large picture of "The Lomellini Family," (No. 1,) is one of the most perfect works of art we have ever beheld. The principal figure is a young, elastic figure a model of manly grace, clad in rich armour, and holding in his hand the shaft of a broken dance Behind him appears the head of another male figure, less regularly beautiful in its form and also less apparently conscious of being handsome-whose deep, impassioned, and somewhat gloomy expression, sympathizes with the half shade in which he stands. Looking downwards on the other side of this figure, and returning to the fore ground, the eye rests upon a sedate matronly figure, in the stiff but imposing dress of Vandyke's time. Follow ing the same outline, our view glides along her arm, and is led to a delicate tapering hand, to which clings a chubby boy, whose infantile countenance has already caught the trick of his uncle, (we presume,) and frowns most precociously. A girl, rather elder and bigger, with all the amusing primness of a child when it tries to look sedate because those around it are so, completes the group, Overhead of the party hangs a piece of gorgeously subdued drapery, emulating in the rich intermixture of its tints, the blending of colours on the peacock's neck. On one side, the view is terminated by a marble statue in an antechamber; on the other, it opens upon a landscape. This picture is simply a portrait. The figures are not forced into the representation of any action; their attitudes and arrangement tell no story. And yet the ex | quisite harmony of their relative positions, the mastery shown in the management of the light and shade, and the exquisite colouring, render it a work upon which we love to dwell, the memory of which pleases, and which we are anxious to see again. Part of this charm no doubt is owing to the expression of the different faces, but more to the harmony of all the parts giving a tone of sentiment to what is only one degree removed from a picture of still life. This work is worthy the intense and continuous study of our most advanced artists. “A Portrait in Armour," (No. 2,) by the same master, strikes perhaps more at first than the picture of which we have been speaking, and possesses many of its excellencies. Being a simpler subject, it does not give scope for such varied beauty; and yet, but for something defective in the upper part of the figure, we should scarcely venture to call it inferior. "The Martyrdom of St Sebastian," (No. 3,) also by Vandyke, is in a bolder style than those we have just noticed; it reminds us more of Rubens. The saint stands rather to one side of the centre of the picture; a sturdy embrowned figure, with his back to the spectator, is bowed down in one corner to bind his feet to a tree. Another attendant on the same side reaches out a hand from behind to lay hold of his shoulder. A negro, holding a bow in one hand and some arrows in the other, bends himself backward so as to thrust his head between the stooping and the upright attendant, casting a glare of malignant ecstasy towards the saint. The other side of the picture is occupied by two soldiers on horseback; along the back of one of them depends a red banner. The naked body of the martyr is most exquisitely painted, and its brightness looks, among the soberer tints by which he is surrounded, like a pure spirit contrasted with earthly grossness; his eyes are melting and upcast, as though it were a joy to die." The stooping executioner conveys merely the idea of remorseless physical strength: in the countenance of him who stands erect we can trace an expression of ruth and commiseration. The soldiers are akin to their horses-bold, powerful, and with the one questionable virtue of devotion to their master, let him be what he will. The whole of this picture is executed in a bold and dashing style. If it were allowable to borrow a figure from a sister art, we would say, that its excellencies stood in the same relation to those of “The Lomellini Family," as one of Mozart's exquisite dramatic passages to the solemn passionless music of a mass by Beethoven. 66 Next in our affections to these masterpieces, is a Cupid by Procaccino, (No. 14;) an exquisite piece of colouring, with a fine drowsy warmth about it. The little rascal is, reclining, and stretching up his hand to a quiver that hangs overhead. The smile that plays upon his lips means mischief. On a par with this picture in point of execution, and not unlike it in the effect of its light and shade, is one of a more lofty subject, by Guercino-" The Madonna, Infant, and St. John,” (No. 13.) There is much grandeur of style in The Portrait of a Senator," by Giacomo Bassano (No. 12.) "A Portrait of Alessandro Farnese," by Wootermans, is also good, though inferior to the former. The Head, (No. 29,) assumed by the author of the catalogue to be a portrait of Giorgione, on the strength of a G. A. in one corner, (Giorgione the Artist, we suppose this learned Theban explains these initials,) is a pleasing little piece of colour, well fitted to catch the many. The effect of the bright eyes glancing out through the shadow upon his brow cannot fail. A Landscape, by Gaspar Poussin, (No. 11,) with a rencontre between Bacchus and Silenus in the foreground, is a valuable picture. Of the landscape attributed to Titian, (No. 5,) it is with considerable diffidence that we give our opinion, knowing that it differs widely from the judgment of some to whom we are in general inclined to defer. With the exception of the two large trees in the foreground, and of the near bend of the river with the boat upon it, we admire the painting much. We admire the receding hills, the expanse of water that loses itself among them, and the bold sky above. We admire, above all, the fine sunny effect of the whole picture. to that event been living in terms of open enmity with his brother; but during all that period he had maintained habits of the closest intimacy with Auchindrayne, and actually joined him in various hostile enterprises against the There is some rich colour in Paris Bordone's "Lady Earl. The occurrence of the Laird of Culzean's murder was at her Toilet;" but it is any thing but a good picture. embraced by their mutual friends as a fitting opportunity The unfeminine coarseness of the principal figure, and to effect a permanent reconciliation between the brothers; the decided ugliness of her companion, almost ineline us "bot (as the Historie' quaintly informs us) the cuntry to be sceptical as to the worth of the documents sub- thocht that he wald not be eirnist in that cause, for the scribed by certain "persons of honour" in Piedmont, and auld luiff betuix him and Auchindrayne."* The unnow in the hands of the Directors, bearing testimony to principled Earl, (whose sobriquet, and that of some of the authenticity of this, and some of the other pictures. | his ancestors, was King of Carrick, to denote the boundWe apply the same remark to that brick-dust coloured, in- less sway he exercised over his own vassals in that disanimate-looking gentleman, who has been christened "A│trict,) relying on his brother's necessities, held out the Portrait, by Titian," (No. 6.) infamous bribe contained in the bond, to induce the Master to murder his former friend, the Laird of Auchindrayne, Though there be honour among thieves, it would seem that there is none among assassins; for the younger brother insisted upon having the price of blood assured to him by a written document. Judging by the Earl's former and subsequent history, he probably thought that, in either event, he would "kill two dogs with one stone;" and it is but doing justice to the Master's acuteness, and the experience acquired under his preceptor Auchindrayne, to conjecture, that, on his part, he would hold his bond to be used as a check-mate against his brother, should he think fit afterwards to turn his heel upon him. The following is a correct copy of the bond granted by the Earl, as transcribed from the original : The "Bacchus and Ariadne," by Sebastian del Piombo, (No. 7,) is not likely to find many admirers, and perhaps does not deserve them. But as we feel a sneaking kindness for the work, we must be allowed to say a word in its defence. The Bacchus is a lumpish commonplace mortal-the Cupid is a Dutchman the colours of the landscape are unnatural. But regard the deep slumbrous look of the Ariadne; mark the fine feeling with which the painter has brought a sleepy shadow over her head, while on the other side of the picture the small white waves laugh in the sun. There is true poetry in this sentiment, and that makes amends for a world of faults. The only other picture deserving a particular notice is a" Saint Jerome," by Franceschini, (No. 16.) It is a fine bold picture. The Architectural Subject," by Delen, (No. 10,) is good of its kind, but too much of the porcelain style of painting for our taste. "Christ driving the sellers from the Temple," by Benvenuto Garafalo, (No. 9,) and "The Adoration of the Shepherds," by Palmo Vecchio, (No. 15,) neither need nor deserve com We owe the following curious illustration of the moral sense of our ancestors to the kindness of the erudite editor of the "Criminal Trials." We believe it is the first time that any of our readers have seen a bill in which the value received was the life of a man. It is a curious question before what tribunal its payment could have been enforced.-Ed. Lit. Jour.] In my Collection of Criminal Trials, and also in the Historical and Genealogical Account of the principal Families of the Name of Kennedy, recently published, all the incidents then discovered relative to the accumulated acts of villainy perpetrated by THE LAIRD OF AUCHINDRAYNE and his son have already been disclosed. As the public are, moreover, already in possession of the leading features of this extraordinary case, from the graphic pen of Sir WALTER Scorr, who has prefixed an introductory notice to his dramatic poem, “Auchindrain, or the Ayr shire Tragedy," it seems unnecessary to attempt a sketch of their lives and crimes. The historical account and the collection above referred to, contain a great variety of documents, which have been brought forward, alike to illustrate the Trials of the Lairds of Auchindrayne, and the extraordinary state of society and manners in the important district of Carrick. But no papers hitherto discovered appear to afford so striking a picture of the savage state of barbarism into which that country must have been sunk, as the following BOND by the Earl of Cassillis to his brother and heir apparent, Hew, Master of Cassillis. The uncle of these young men, Sir Thomas Kennedy of Culzean, Tutor of Cassillis, &c., was murdered, May 11th,1602, by Auchindrayne's accomplices. The Master of Cassillis had for many years previous We, JOHNNE ERLE of CASSILLIS, Lord Kennedy, &c., bindis and oblisis ws, that howsovne our broder, Hew KENNEDY of Brounstoun, with his complices, taikis the LAIRD of AUCHINDRANEIS lyf, that we sall mak guid and thankfull payment to him and thame of the sowme of Tuelff hundreth merkis yeirly, togidder with corne to sex horsis ; ay and qubill we ressaw thame in houshald with our self; Beginning the first payment immediatlie efter thair committing of the sad deid. ATTOUR, howsovne we ressaue thame in houshald, we sall pay to the twa serwing gentillmen the feis yeirlie, as our awin houshald serwandis. And heirto we obliss ws vpone our honour. SUBSCRYVIT with our hand, at Maybale, the ferd day of September, 1602.i†, (Signed) { "JOHNE ERLE of CassillIS.” · 1 * ༞ ཤྲཱ』ཝེ LONDON GOSSIP ON LITERATURE AND ART. SOUTHEY and Wordsworth have lately visited us. The latter staid a week, the former a month: their company was much in request. There was something of a jubilee among our London bards on the occasion ; nevertheless, the great Lakers kept themselves much apart from the thousand-and--one bards of the metropolis, and appeared but to a few. Southey has a poem, the scene of which is laid in Sherwood Forest, more than half finished; and Wordsworth, from a hint which I heard him drop, has been prevailed on by the persuasive Rogers to send a short piece to the press through the hands of Moxon. They were both in good health, and promise to live long. Rogers is much pleased with the success of his Italy, so splendidly illustrated by Stothard and Turner, and thinks of doing the same kind turn to the rest of his poems. hope he will do it; for you must know that in art he has the best taste of all our poets. He is a fine sample of the old gentlemanly English school-full of fine wit and ready humour, and abounding in anecdotes. The Annuals, like other flowers of the field, are now no more; and the Libraries, some of which are beautifully embellished, are as plentiful as stars in the unclouded sky. Many men of first-rate fame are employed in these • Hist. of the Kennedies, p. 59. |
