was nothing more nor less than some exquisite old whiskey, possessing the fine flavour of the peat smoke with which all the illicit spirits made in Ireland is impregnated.

"Ha!' exclaimed I, this is indeed a treat, How did you come by this, my good father?'

"Never you mind how I came by it, but make yourself a tumbler-Madame Genevieve will give us hot water and sugar immediately. How I come by it is a long story-but we'll drink to the memory of him who gave it to me, any how; God rest his

innocent sowl!"

"There was a tone of deep grief in the utterance of this phrase, and I saw the big tears rolling rapidly down the old man's cheeks. "Aye, aye, rowl away, rowl away,' cried he bitterly apostrophising the falling drops, and dashing them off with his hand it's right that my ould heart should weep drops of blood if possible, instead of salt water-but even that's not wanting to keep my sorrow fresh-rowl away, rowl away!'

My curiosity being powerfully excited by these words, I ventured to ask who had been the lamented friend whose memory caused him such grief.

"Why, my jewel, he was nothing but a garde-du-corps, what you'd call in English, one of the body guard of unfortunate Louis the Sixteenth. But he was my friend, and a real gentleman bred and born-of as ancient a family, as pure blood, and as brave a heart as any king in Christendom-that's what he was; and the devil such another he left behind him. Here's long life to himthat is, I main, here's long life to his memory, which will never die while there's life in this ould body, any how.'

"I pledge your melancholy toast, my dear Sir,' said I, with out knowing even the name of your lamented friend.'

"His name was Cornelius,' said the priest solemnly, that is his Christian name: as to the other, it is not convanient nor neces-, sary to expose an ould and honourable family, though he took good care, poor crathur, that his body should be as free after death as his mind was while he lived-the Lord have mercy upon his unfortunate sowl.'" P. 46.

We cannot help remarking by the way, that the author, who assures us that he is both individually and genealogically an Irish patriot, describes Father O'Callagan as an inveterate enemy of England and Englishmen. Perhaps it is hardly fair to gather politics by the road-side-but either Mr. Plunkett's panygeric upon the priesthood is built on a sandy foundation, or our romancing patriot has done them great injustice in his character of O'Callagan.

The Vouée au blanc is the concluding story in the series, and contains some humourous descriptions and characters. But we have not room for another extract, and must refer the inquisitive reader to the work itself. If he is disposed.

to be pleased-it is, as we have already observed, a work that will please him. And even the fastidious, who throws it down in displeasure, will not be disposed to visit it with any severe condemnation.

ART. VI. The Modern Athens: A Dissection of Men and Things in the Scotch Capital. By a Modern Greek. London. Knight & Lacey. One vol. 8vo. 9s. 1825.

We know not how long it is since Edinburgh was nick-named the modern Athens, nor can we discover any good reasonfor such an abuse of language. The projected revival of the Parthenon as the national monument of Scotland, and the situation which has been chosen for it, on an eminence resembling, it is said, the ancient Acropolis, may have suggested to some silly wag the quizzing appellation which constitutes the title-page of the work now before us. Democracy and pure Greek were the distinguishing characteristics of the famed city of Cecrops; neither of which, till very lately, has attracted much regard in the Scottish capital. Nor is there any other feature that we can find out in the "men or things" of Edinburgh, upon which to establish a likeness to the active, brilliant, and impatient spirits of the old Athenians; or to the clear sky and genial climate under which they harangued, and fought, and sung with so much energy and effect.

If there is any thing to distinguish Edinburgh from the other second-rate cities of the empire, we must expect to find it in the employments of the great mass of the people. It has no commerce, and hardly any manufactures. There are no warehouses, nor steam-engines, nor extensive wharfs, nor crowds of artizans. One does not see there the flaming chimneys, nor the pillars of smoke, nor the many-windowed buildings, which, at Manchester, Birmingham, and Glasgow, denote the various operations of that productive labour upon which the wealth of nations has its chief dependence. Edinburgh is chiefly remarkable as a great school for law, philosophy, and physic, and as the seat of justice for the whole of Scotland. The college brings together every year about two thousand young men, who pursue, in the different classrooms, their respective branches of professional education. At the High School and Academy, which are devoted to the study of the ancient languages, there are from eight hundred to a thousand boys, placed under the tuition of ten or twelve

masters and it is perhaps worthy of notice, that the rector, or head-master, of the latter institution is a clergyman of the church of England, and a graduate of the university of Oxford. If to these regular establishments we add the private grammar schools, and lectures in almost every department of science, it will appear that Edinburgh, as a place of mere instruction and intellectual occupation, is distinguishable from every other town in the united kingdom. In short, the ordinary business pursued in that aspiring place requires the exercise of mind; and even the drudgery of the lowest order of professional men has something in it of a literary cast. Not only the lawyer, the attorney and the solicitor, require the qualification of several years residence at college, but even their clerks and assistants, whose multitude no man can number, must have read Latin, and heard lectures on the Institutes and Pandects.

For these reasons Edinburgh is necessarily a different place from other towns of the same size and population, Instead of being immersed in muslins, sugar and coffee, you find the active portion of the inhabitants occupied with theories of feudal law, with the reasonings of the judges, and the decisions of the courts. Their very labour is among books, and opinions, and precedents; and men who are constantly so employed, one need hardly observe, acquire habits of acuteness and penetration very superior to those which spring from the intercourse of persons whose "talk is of bullocks." From its schools and its occupations, we repeat, Edinburgh is, to a certain extent, a literary place; but it is by no means an Athens, either in point of learning or of genius. It is not the seat of the Muses; and the Graces have not yet found their way so far towards the North. It has, moreover, been too much talked of lately; its pretensions are much too high; and the consequence is, that most people from a distance, who mix with its society, are struck with disappointment, shrug up their shoulders at so much pride and ignorance of the world, and return home laughing at the expense of their hosts.

The author of this "Dissection of Men and Things in the Scottish Capital," is obviously a North-countryman himself, and knows more about the "Modern Athens" than could have been acquired during one short visit in the year 1822. He shows, indeed, some affection for his native land; but he exhibits also the most convincing proofs, that the sour leaven of disappointment and personal chagrin has fermented in his heart, and that his main pleasure is to abuse those who had not sense to perceive, or generosity to reward the exercise

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of his transcendent talents. He has, besides, admitted into his strictures more of political animosity than became a faithful historian of passing events. His whiggery turns the edge of his revilings against good men, whose names he ought to have respected; and among others against Sir Walter Scott, a character not so much admired for his rare genius as he is beloved for his frank, mild, and warm-hearted disposition. The author should have remembered, that the personalities which are only despised in a London newspaper, are apt to excite deeper feelings of disgust and execration, when they appear in a volume which has been two years under the pen or the press.

The gentleman to whom the world owes the Modern Athens, is understood to be a reporter for a morning paper in this city, who was sent down to Scotland, at the era of the Royal visit, in the usual discharge of his official occupation. His notes for the newspaper have evidently served, in part, as materials for his book; and the rest he has derived from memory or imagination, without much regard to the actual condition of things. It may be right to mention, at the same time, that the author of this article was likewise in Edinburgh at the period in question; that he saw much of what the reporter describes, and can vouch for his accuracy in many things; but that, as he had neither personal nor political prejudices to combat, he flatters himself that he viewed the array of highlanders and lowlanders with greater impartiality, and is therefore not less likely to appreciate with candour the motives which animated the various actors in that stirring scene.

It was well observed by an Irish labourer, in reply to one of his Scotch companions, who was contrasting the decorum of the Royal procession to Edinburgh with the less regular loyalty which attended his Majesty when he entered into Dublin, that" We," meaning the Irish, went out to see the king; but you went out to let the king see you!" Great pains were indeed taken to prepare the populace of the northern capital to receive the sovereign like a "nation of gentlemen." Sir W. Scott put out a pamphlet, entitled, "Hints to the People of Edinburgh," in which he effectually reached their sense of propriety through the medium of their pride: and the result certainly was very much to the credit of the monitor, as well as of those to whom he addressed his friendly advice. The locality, besides, of the modern Athens affords advantages for the display of royal pageantry which hardly any other place possesses. The inequality of the ground presents a variety of natural platforms from which two or

three hundred thousand people could command a full view of the whole procession, without the slightest rush or confusion. But still the main source of the order and decorum which were observed arose from a very judicious arrangement, by which the populace were themselves converted into guardians of the public peace. The tradesmen of Edinburgh can be reasoned with on most occasions; and it was not difficult to make them understand, that they would have the fullest enjoyment of the splendid scene upon which their hearts were fixed, by preventing all disturbance and unnecessary locomotion. With this view they were marshalled according to their several callings, under the heads of their corporations; dressed in their best clothes, adorned with sashes and ribbands, and had suspended round their necks a glittering medal representing the national order of St. Andrew. In fact, the thing was so well got up, that it is not surprising His Majesty should have asked where the mob had been disposed of. It was altogether a holiday exhibition, prepared and executed with considerable study and research, and in reality bearing snch characters upon it as fully to justify the remark of the honest Hibernian, that the Scotch went forth to shew themselves to the king,

But such an exhibition could not be repeated. No "hints," nor drilling, nor marshalling, even under the auspices of the Great Unknown, could revive the deep feeling of affection and reverence with which George the Fourth was received in Scotland. He appeared among the people of the North as the heir and representative of their ancient kings; as a son of the Stuarts, to whose memory there is still a strong and lingering attachment; and therefore as a prince who derived his right to the throne from his relationship to the blood-royal of their own land. Since the Union, Scotland has appeared to itself to have sunk down into the rank of a mère province, added to the territory of England, and as no longer thought of in the light of an ancient kingdom, jealous of its rights, and proud of its independence, Its very name is on most occasions passed over; its inhabitauts were fast losing their place as a people among European states, and the time seemed at hand when it would be entirely forgotten, that a crown had ever been worn, or a sceptre swayed north of the Tweed. Nearly two hundred years had expired since a reigning monarch touched the soil of Scotland; for which reasons, when our gracious sovereign realized his visit, the people at large seemed to think themselves once more possessed of that rank and consequence, which they sometimes imagine have been bartered away for the more substantial benefits of peace and wealth; and when