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When the pale cirrus blooms,

All the air's honey-sweet. Little green and white plumes, When the pale cirrus blooms, Scatter out their perfumes

Through the dust-laden heat. When the pale cirrus blooms,

All the air's honey-sweet.

O little bird flying, ilying, flying

To your nest in the warm West; Tell him as you pass that I am dying

As you pass home to your nest.


On the gold-mohar tree!

Fairy gold lies in showers.
Oh! the rich tints to see
On the gold-mohar tree!
Setting sun's pageantry

Shown in masses of flowers. On the gold-mohar tree!

Fairy gold lies in showers.

I have a sister, I have a brother,

A faithful hound, a tame white dove; But I had another, once I had another,

And I miss him-my love, my love! In this weary world it is so cold, so cold

While I sit here all alone; I would not like to wait and to grow old,

But just to be dead and gone. Make me fair when I lie dead on my bed,

Fair where I am lying: Perhaps he may come and look upon me

dead He for whom I am dying.

I am tired of this splendor;

Too bright the sun blazes; Give me primroses tenderI am tired of this splendorAnemones slender,

And little white daisies.
I am tired of this splendor

Too bright the sun blazes.

Dig my grave for two, with a stone to

show it, And on the stone write my name; If he never comes, I shall never know it, But sleep on all the same.





From The Edinburgh Review. and not infrequently in feminine THE NEW SCOTTISH NOVELISTS.1

hands they verge on licentious audaci. We hail the revival of the rural

ties. For we need hardly say that Scottish novel as a welcome sign of with one or two exceptions which will healthy reaction. In the multiplica- suggest themselves to everybody, the tion of novel writers, we make much gravest offenders are of the gentler allowance for the intensity of com

And, to quote old Mr. Weller, petition at fever heat and the diffi- "very soft they must be" to fancy culty of finding attractive subjects. that these perverse and revolting Sensation of every kind has been car- fantasies will bring them either repuried to excess, and it is the doom of tation or permanent profit. For asthe sensationalist who has made a

suredly we do these advanced writers popular hit to endeavor to surpass no injustice when we assume that it himself in successive productions. is the latter consideration which That inevitably leads to mad outrages chiefly weighs with them. The book on common sense, as he passes from which seeks its subjects in a museum the improbable to the incredible and of moral monstrosities, which launches impossible. Of the fashionable novels itself with the startling or shocking we get as blasé as of the insipid title that strikes the keynote to the gaieties they affect to reproduce, and offensive contents-even those which even the conventional domestic novel, do nothing worse than reverse the rewith its trivial incidents and every- lations of the sexes in imagining some day characters, can only be indefi- ideal hermaphrodite of the future· nitely repeated so as to interest, by may have an ephemeral and discreditsuch masters of the art of weaving able

But the

is webs of gossamer as the author of seldom repeated, and the sensational "The Chronicles of Barset."

If ab- extravagance has a depressing effect surdities insipidities


even on those who profess to admire worst, we should have the less to com

it. We believe that the surest test of plain of. A book which is merely

a genuinely good novel is that it aggravating or wearisome may be leaves a pleasant flavor behind. Novtossed aside; it can do harm to none

elists of what Southey styled the but those who consent to be bored “Satanic school” can have no touch by it. Infinitely more objectionable on the chords to which our finer feelare the novels of the newest school, ings will vibrate. The most vicious which outrage old-fashioned notions of men the most frivolous of of decency. They are Mesdames

women have still susceptibilities for Bovary without the psychological better things which it is the privilege genius of Flaubert; "Assommoirs” of genius to awaken. World-worn, without the dramatic realism of Zola, demoralized, or unsessed as they may

be, they will be all the more grateful 11. Auld Licht Idylls. By J. M. Barrie. don: 1888.

to the enchanter who transports them 2 A Window in Thrums. By J. M. Barrie out of themselves and for the moLondon: 1889.

ment identifies them with ideals 3. When a Man's Single. By J. M. Barrie. Lon

which had well-nigh faded from the 4. Tho Stickit Minister and Some Common Men.

memory. By S. R. Crockett. London: 1893.

For love of art or lust of lucre the 5. Tho Raiders. By S. R. Crockett. London: provincial novel has always had a

high place in English literature. 6. Beside the Bonnio Briar Bush. By Ian Maclaren. London: 1894.

Since the days of Fielding and Oliver 7. The Green Graves of Balgowrie. By Jane Goldsmith, we have had a series of Helen Findlater. London: 1896.

vivid pictures of English country life





don: 1888.




and scenery, and of life in the great when the black ox had set his hoof industrial centres as well, from the on the humble threshold, are all predales of Yorkshire to the deans of the sented with simple though exquisite Southdowns. The Brontes in the skill which should have incited to bleak seclusion of Haworth; Mrs. Gas- imitation, for literary ambition makes kell in Manchester; George Eliot in light of difficulties. Yet since the Stafford and the eastern shires; the wizard's wand was buried with him Kingsleys with their Devonshire in Dryburgh, the Scottish novels of worthies; Blackmore in Devon, Som

any mark might almost be counted erset, and Sussex; Hardy, who has on the fingers. Wilson, oddly enough made Dorsetshire his own; Mr. Bar for the versatile and rollicking author ing Gould and Mrs. Humphry Ward— of the “Noctes” and the “Recreathese are but a few of the names tions,” sinned on the side of excessive which suggest themselves in a host of sentimentalism in the “Shadows of others. Nor should we forget such Scottish Life” and the “Trials of Marold evergreens as Harrison Ainsworth, garet Lyndsay." His collaborator whose fertility was fatal to lasting Lockhart audaciously ran counter to fame, and whose inartistic abrupt- the prejudices of his countrymen ness is always irritating, but who, when he gravely compromised nevertheless, was as genuine an En- worthy Presbyterian minister in the glishman at heart, as passionate an brilliant "Adam Blair.” Even Hogg, admirer of English scenery, as the who had been brought up in the cote Romany Rye or William Howitt. tage ingle neuk, and nursed his poetic

It seems strange that when novel fancies when watching the sheep on writers were everywhere the the fells, though of course there are search, like hungry trout in some passages of tenderness and pathos, highland tarn on the feed after made a signal failure in his pastoral thunderstorm, that the Scotland of tales of the Borders. As for Miss Scott was comparatively neglected. Ferrier's novels, they rather We have no such belief in the mod- pseudo-fashionable than tales of lowly esty of the modern littérateur as to life. Does any one now read the believe that the lustre of Scott's fame “Cottagers of Glenburnie,” though in scared imitators away. He had shown its day it had no little popularity ? what a rich field lay open to those We fear we might ask the same quesfamiliar with it, apart from the thrill- tion as to “Mrs. Margaret Maitland” ing historical romance of a country and "Adam Graeme," with which Mrs. whose history was tragedy written in Oliphant first gave the world assurblood. Take the single scene of the ance of her genius. They well deserve funeral of Steenie Mucklebackit as an the honors of a reprint, which they example of what may be made of un- will assuredly have sooner or later, promising materials. With the magic but, like her “Katie Stewart” and the of a Shakespeare, with that instinc- admirable “Minister's Wife,” they are tive gift of appreciating the inner studies less of the lowest orders than most feelings of all ranks and of well-to-do manse folk or the counconditions of men, Scott gives the try aristocracy. bereavement of those prosaic Forfar- For the genuine paternity of the shire fishing folk the pathetic sub- present-day novelists we must go back limity of a drama by Aeschylus. The to Galt, the contemporary of Scott, speechless grief of the rugged fisher who was criticised and discriminatman, the softening of the termagant ingly commended by him. So it is house-mother, the stupefaction of the but fair that Galt should have the children at the splendid festivities tardy honor which is his due, in the




form of new editions of his works, household will cheerfully stint its exissued simultaneously by rival pub- penses that the kloarec may have the lishers. Galt was essentially the me- chance of taking holy orders. The morialist of the cottager, the small very boy from the turf-roofed hovel, farmer, and the struggling shop- herding the Cow or scaring crows keeper in the rural burgh who rises from the potatoes, may be dreaming to local eminence and sometimes to of winning favor in the eyes of the wider notoriety and wealth. He is schoolmaster and being passed on prolix and trivial, he is very fre- from the master to the notice of the quently vulgar, and not unfrequently minister, and from the minister to coarse. But, like Mr. Barrie and the generous patronage of the laird. some of Barrie's ablest imitators, Galt So all save the hopeless dullards has described and analyzed with in- make a certain progress in letters, timate knowledge and intense per- and rub up the intellectual faculties sonal sympathy the joys, the troubles, in a rude kind of intellectual conand the aspirations of the poor. For troversy. A cheap press circulates a intimate knowledge, born in no small hundred journals, where a single degree of similarity in rank and lot, paper a generation back served the is essential to giving vivid effect to community. All are profoundly versed the pictures, unless, indeed, the nov- in secular politics, and burning queselist have the genius of a Shakespeare tions come up for fiery discussion. or a Scott. Equipped with the indis- But it is religion that really underlies pensable qualifications, the opportuni- everything—that addresses itself to ties for microscopic observation are the best and the worst of their pasconsiderable, even within a necessarily sions. The ways of the Almighty are limited horizon. The austere race of mysterious, leading either to acquiintelligent farmers have pronounced escence or revolt. The sullen, smoulpational virtues, with individual dering fires are ever ready to burst foibles or vices. To the casual ob- out. The Scotland of the persecution server they may resemble each other times and the covenanting martyrslike so many sheep in a flock, but the the Scotland of Knox and Henderson, shepherd in the habit of reading the of Peden and Cameron, of Lauderdale faces can tell each from the others and Claverhouse-is still the battleby significant signs. The mechanics ground of creeds and conflicting sects. of the towns differ as much from the At this day, in Thrums, if Sydney men of the country as from the neigh- Smith were to preach one of his serboring fisherpeople, with whom they

toleration a primary have never intermarried. Are those article of the Christian faith, he stolid and seemingly quiet-going souls would probably be stoned like St. insensible to the noble infirmity of Stephen by a mob of honest-minded ambition? Very far from it. There bigots. But to do the fanaticism are few who do not struggle and save justice we should in fairness remark that they may win a step upwards that it is still the Scotland where, in on the social ladder. Hardly a farm- the memorable disruption year, four steading, as all those writers hundred and sixty-four clergymen repeatedly remark, that does not hope signed their livings, to be followed to send a son to the college, with the by their flocks into the wilderness, expectation that he may wag his head and where two hundred probationers in a pulpit or, at the worst, fall back cast in their lot with the seceders, upon a parish school. And, except instead of making a rush for the for pride of kinship, it is an unselfish vacant pulpits. Profound conviction ambition, for as in Brittany a Scottish of any kind is infinitely preferable


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