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and on advancing a little farther, we work in the street; the blacksmith's pass the ancient church of that anvil is placed perhaps under a gatename, with its high square Norman way when it rains, but usually it is tower, and soon reach the Largo hoisted on a block in the path; hamS. Domenico Maggio, where another mers whirl round, sparks fly, and ugly gúglia, but not so high as the files grate upon the ear, in one street, former, demands its share of con- and immediately upon quitting it, we tempt ; after traversing this, we en- get into another, where there is equal ter into the Strada San Biagio de Li- noise and confusion by squeaking braj, which, like Santa Chiara, is a saws and gliding planes. In the continuation of the same long line. same direction is the Neapolitan Hardly any thing is to be seen here Mint, a very roomy building, wherein but bookseller's shops; it is, in fact, they contrive to make very bad mom the Paternoster Row of Naples, and ney. a very poor Paternoster Row it is ; Many of the streets inhabited by the shops are low, dark, mean, the trades end in one large one dirty, and very badly stocked; it is that leads to the mercato, which is, difficult to get any foreign or new as the name expresses, a market Italian work here, except at one place: it is a very wide square; on bookseller's, who is a Frenchman, it stand the church of San Lorenzo, and is kind enough to procure them the Torre del Campanile, the church for about double their value, within of La Madonna del Carmine, the fortwo or three months' notice. The tress of the Carmine, and several other street soon changes its name again, noted edifices. This was the scene becomes narrower, and is called of the tumults, eloquence, triumph, “ Strada Seggio del Nilo;" the shops and death of the unfortunate demaat the beginning of this part of the gogue, Masaniello; and it was also range are chiefly filled by religious the place where the patriots of ninety. prints, such as Madonnas, Saints, nine suffered for their principles, and and Crucifixes, people praying and resigned all their politics. It was burning in purgatory, martyrdoms, here also, “i' the olden time,” that miracles, &c.; and at the farther end the youthful and gallant Conradin are wholesale manufacturers of saints was caused to be beheaded by Charles of both sexes, gilded ornaments for of Anjou, being clearly convicted of church candlesticks, crosses, eternal having a just title to the throne of flowers, &c. &c.

Naples. In one part of the mercato Leaving the Seggio del Nilo, we stood, until a few years back, the go up by a cross street to the great little church, or cappella, of Santa Štrada Tribunale, which is dirty and Croce di Corradino, just before narrow, like the one we left; here which, on a lofty scaffold, covered there are two other abominable with velvet, he, with the Duke of guglj; indeed, the Neapolitans have Austria, endured his fate, whilst his been very liberal of these memorials conqueror enjoyed the scene from a of their bad taste; the Strada Tri- neighbouring tower; and among the bunale ends at the Vicaria, a very immense and pitying crowd, not a large building, formerly the habita- man was found bold enough to take tions of the Viceroys, and now the up the glove which the prince threw seats of justice, and the criminal pri- among them, as an investiture of his sons ; at this now plebeian end of the kingdom. Conradin's body, which town, there are a great many old and lay exposed in the place until it was large palaces, as former times the in a state of putrefaction, nobody nobility inhabited this part, which is having courage to bury it until an now deserted by all whose finances order was given by Charles, was depermit them to seek more modish posited in the chapel, but afterwards quarters. On the other side of the removed by his mother, and placed Strada Nilo, there is a strange set of behind the Altare Maggiore of the streets, each of which is occupied by Carmine. Almost the whole of one a particular trade; one, for instance, side of the Mercato is formed by an by coppersmiths, another by black- extremely large building, called Il smiths, another by weavers Banco di S. Eligio, which has been dyers, and another by coopers, and a monastery, a hospital, and a bank; so on, through a great variety: the but what various purposes it answers greater part of these artists usually now we know not.


· Between the long streets we have tuation is excellent, the breezes blow mentioned and the Marina, there is fresh from the sea, and Vesuvius another batch of streets, or quarter, frowns across the smiling waters; but called, “ Abasso di Mercanti," where it is lined by a number of mean and all the mercers, dealers in cloth, irregular, though lofty houses with &c. live. The Strada delli Oréfici, broken windows and unpainted balwhere none but goldsmiths carry on conies, and the place is offensive from a trade, is also near here, and is a the skins which the tanners lay out to smart place: you see exposed to sale dry in the sun on the pavement, and the tawdry ornaments which adorn from the materials which those artiand impose upon the plebeians ; large sans use in their business. hoop ear-rings, with pendants half the size of one's hand, and weighing, Here we conclude our first sketch perhaps, three quarters of an ounce of Naples ; at a future time we shall each, stuck all over with dingy pearls return to this subject, and describe and bits of coloured glass, all manu- rather more at large some of the refactured and arranged in true Nea- markable objects; we shall also enpolitan taste, which consists in dis- deavour to give you an account of posing things to the worst advantage the character, customs, manners, state possible, are here displayed in great of society, and amusements of the profusion, as also immense quantities people; subjects which we cannot of rings, crosses, and cornicelli, or consider as trite, since we have seen little pieces of twisted coral, which but little relating to them that has are worn about the neck as charms appeared to us to be correct. Our against the jettatura, or evil eye, in descriptions, as far as we have gone, which every true Neapolitan “ most are not perhaps what you expected ; powerfully and potently believes.” In it may be so, for we have attempted the same line is a range of streets to describe Naples tale qual è. * Do so narrow that they seem to have not suppose that, because we remark been constructed with the inten- the blemishes in this beato soggiorno, tion of trying experiments on suf- that we are prejudiced against it, or. focation; the houses are incredibly are led by a splenetic spirit to decry high, and in many places a per- what others applaud. No; we are not son, by extending his arms, can insensible to what is valuable about touch both sides of the street at once; Naples; we are familiar with all her at the same time, there are so many matchless scenes ; and we love her in bendings, and turnings, and corners, spite of her abominations. Naples is that little short of conjuration can not a place for good society; it is not deliver the wanderer who has once a good place for solitary study; for bewildered himself in the dingy laby- theatres, balls, and masquerades, it rinth. It is awful to reflect, whilst it has many superiors; it is not a traversing this part of the town, on cheap place for foreigners; Paris is the fearful mortality which would as cheap, and every city of Italy much scourge this filthy race if a conta- cheaper; it is not a comfortable gious disease were to make its ap- place to live in, it is not clean, it is pearance here; scarcely two out of not quiet—it is none of these ! but it ten, we apprehend, would escape, and has beauties around, which to be the catacombs, which are yet choked conceived must be seen, and once in some places with the skulls and seen, must become a part of memory. skeletons that were the harvest of Every step taken in its vicinity prethe plague in 1656, would receive a sents views by which some important supply sufficient to tell a tale of fear passage of mythology, or poetry, or in ages to come! Were it not for history, or legend, is recalled;-some openings towards the sea which ad- secret of nature reveals itself in every mit the cool air, these streets would hill, in every hollow; and all her be suffocating during the summer shores, and capes, and islands, are heats.

thickly strewed with the wrecks of A fine well paved way runs from antiquity. Could we share with you the Molo along the shore to the end all we see and feel in but one of our of the city in that direction; it is broad walks, you might estimate the enand open to the sea all along. This ticements of Naples rightly; but that walk would be delightful, for the si- we cannot do. Farewell!



Simon SPROTTE, of Kingsmount.
Hugh Glendynen, of Glendynen.

Miles HERRIES, of Partoun.

Felix MACARTHY, of Carrickfergus.
DAME SPROTTE, of Kingsmount.

Alice SPROTTE, her daughter.
A Twilight glen thick-bower'd with trees-between
Their straight tall shafts, the sweet and winding Orr
Flows dimpling seaward; o'er their leafy tops
A verdant mound arises; and below,
A mill, with meal white powder'd o'er, dips ever
Its sounding wheel amid the racing flood ---
The mill-stones ring, and from the mill-ee comes
The warm meal gushing fragrant. At hand too
I see the shealing-hill, with husks of grain
Soft bedded, where the man who turns the corn,
Above the kiln's pure glow, with grimy visage
Lies cooling hin;—the worn-out mill-stones lie,
With wheels of ancient pattern, thick around ;-
And clucking hens peck near, or burrow deep,
With fluttering wings amid the husky surge;
While high o'er-head, the hawk with many a gyre
Sails round, but dreads to stoop. A bow-shot on,
An ancient house stands with brown heather thatch'd,
The door is open --- see the quivering light
Comes glancing forth, and all the river gleams.
The old quern-mill, by menial maidens turn'd
Two hours at.moru for breakfast meal, stands now
Unhonour'd by white hands -- the deep stone trough
Where malt was kneaded, and the mighty press
Which moulds the white curd into fragrant cheese,
Stand at the porch; while from the open door
To the huge chimney, all the floor is green
With rushes and wild flowers. Around the fire
Lie slumbering chace-dogs, with their white breasts laid
To catch the warmth, while in mid-floor appears
The table huge of oak -- a massive board
Which striplings may not move though much they strive.
It seems a time of feasting, for I see
Some of the Galloway sages, and sweet dames
Clad in the garb their own white hauds have spun.
List! see the grey old lord of this rude home
From his shrunk temples sheds the reverent locks,-
His face composes to a graver smile,
Now hear his antique speech.

SCENE-Kingsmount House, Water of Orr. Timethe Twilight. Enter Simon Sprotte, Hugh GLENDYNEN, Miles HERRIES, DAME


SIMON SPROTTE. The sun's gone down on the hill-top red and rosy. The corn of Kingsmount, the bear of Braidislee, and the rye of Partoun-place, will soon be ready for the sickle. We must sharpen the reap-hook soon, Hugh Glens dynen, and stoop us to the stooking. VOL. VI.



Aye, truly. The barley wags his yellow beard at us, and the lasses long to catch it atween their white hands. There will be thousands of sickles laid under the ripe ear soon. As I came down by Ernespie, who should I see but the laird standing midwaist deep in a cornfield, proving the ripeness of his grain between the remains of his foreteeth :-“ My sooth,” said he, “ if the reap-hook makes nae the greater speed, the top pickle will be shaken on the mools, and gang to the fairies of Glenesling-glen. Through the grace of him aboon, and the warmth of yon blessed sun, the corn is ready for the hook and the flail.”


As I came along the river-bank, who should I see but a lady of the auld blood of the Maxwells:-“ Wilí Candlish,” cried she to her steward, “ wherefore feed ye the pigeons with good grey peas, when I see ripe rye at Thunneram ;-wilful waste makes woeful want.


Aye, aye, our lady takes as sore a lift of the world as if she could carry it with her to the grave. Sorry am I for the bauld auld sirname of Maxwell. An ancient name and a renowned. The ladies had hands once milk-white and soft, and filled with bountith and largesse to many a needful body. But now their hands are of iron, and every finger they have is as sharp as a fish-hook. Sorry am I for the gallant name.


It is a pity that old and heroic blood should become as cold as dykewater in December. I have sung of many of the bold and chivalrous names which honour other days, and in the praise of the Maxwell would I wake my highest strain. But present feelings are too strong for ancient love, and I maun forget the living before I can do honour to the dead.


Honour the dead, and let the living go to the dust their own pitiful way. Thirty gentlemen and three have I numbered in my youth, all of that old name, and owners of lands and towers in Nithsdale and Galloway; but woe to foreign wars, and woe to domestic feuds- sudden deaths and barren beds have thinned them out and given their lordships to strangers.


And let them gomand so their requiem's sung. We saw fairer faces fall at Clifton without dool or lament; and better warriors at Carlisle gate, who had fetters for their hands, and a sharp axe for their necks. Ah, my auld fere, we came through some peril when we drew our swords together for the love of King Bruce's blood. Mind ye, man, how we trimmed that three lads with the scarlet coats and Hanover belts, who overtook us at the end of Lochmaben town? And how, when we emptied the troopers' saddles and leaped into them ourselves, one of the bailies, who bore on his back a burthen of broom, cried, Od, my lads, I wish Provost Johnstone saw ye, he would make ye glower through the harrow that forms our prison gate."


Aye, that was none of our wisest pranks, and had near-band brought us acquaint with the red and ready hand of Duke Cumberland's merciless law. When I returned home I found cold comfort. Jabesh Cargil, with a company of wild Closeburn Cameronians, had herried my home and burned my books - a Hebre Bible and a Greek Testament among the rest-nor spared they my old original Homer. They kindled a fire on the top of the mount, and, with much of prayer and thanksgiving, committed the good old Greek, and, his holier companions, to the flames; calling them brats and bastards of Rimmon and Moloch, and crying aloud, - Consume with fire the session book in which the harlot of Rome has written and recorded her longings and her sins." Ah, these were stirring and ticklish times.

HUGH GLENDYNEN. Plague on such times, say I, and the knaves and the fools who swell the ranks of discord and civil dissension. Come, man, let the memory of such misadventures die a natural death; and let us be blessed with the presence of the old charter-bowl-the glorious heir-loom of the house of Kingsmount,-the noble bowl of Bruce the Brave, as my young friend Miles Herries will doubtless baptize it when he sees, for the first time, the wormeaten relique. Let its ancient lips overflow again, my friend, with rich and smoking potations. Let us perfume the roof of the house of Simon Sprotte, and intoxicate the sparrows with the fumes, as they roost beneath the eaves.


Now Alice Sprotte, my love--Alice, I say—my only child—ihe light of day to thy mother's eyes and mine, and the new bark to the withering tree of the old house of Sprotte of the Mount. Go to the charter-chest - the little old chest of moss-oak, ornamented with thistles, and strewn with Scripture expressions, and the names of my bold forbears. Open the lid, my love, and you will find, carefully wrapt in fine wool, the wassail-cup, the breakfast bowl of Robert the Bruce. Touch its ancient sides with awe, Alice, and bring it hither, wondering, between thy hands.

ALICE SPROTTE. It is a lordly dish–I look indeed with awe on the ancient vessel which the lip and hand of a hero and a king have touched. Come out of thy safe sanctuary, thou relique of the Bruce and the Sprotte-my hand trembles to touch thee.


Lo! here the relique comes, a lordly vessel borne in a white and shapely hand. Off with all bonnets-each lay his right hand on the cup of Kingsmount-kneel on the floor, and let the venerable owner of this ancient house pray for bright days for poor Scotland.


The stripling's mad-moon-struck and muse-struck-over head in hot love and heroics ; seven words of simple prose are no more to be hoped for from him, than a shower of pearls when the wind's westerly. Ah, my old reverend acquaintance, fair fall the white hand that placed thee before me. Cup of a king, thou bast a smell and a perfume about thee grateful to a humble subject like me. Many a time have I sat down beside thee in sorrow and staggered from thee in joy. Often have I sat before thee in humility and submission--the first cupful made me a lord, and the last one crowned me a king. Fifty years and odd bear ( on my back now, but beneath the burthen of years thou wilt make me leap with the limbs of eighteen.


The rashness of youth has descended on my friend again, and a singer and a dancer will he become in the presence of this noble vessel. There ! on that table stands the grace and glory of my house, and the charter by which I hold my land. Ah, King Bruce's bowl, many a heroic hand has been upon thee of old at burials, and bridals, and baptisms, and banquetings. Among the brave, and the sage, and the fair, hast thou appeared ;a Bruce has not scored thy humble sweets-a Douglas has tasted of thy strength-a Randolph has stayed his fiery steed to partake of thy blessings many a Maxwell, many a Ramsay, many a gentle Kirkpatrick, many a hot and headlong Johnstone, and gay Macartney, and blythe Maclellan, have partaken of thy liquid delights. Thou hast never been profaned by rude and vulgar lips, and I would sooner see thee feed the fire, or hold husks for swine, than behold thee gracing the mean and the sordid.

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