harmlessly on the rushy sod. His intended victim, with more nerve and temper than I calculated on, had seen the blindness of his rage, forbore to fire, and again cried out, Stop, fool! Must I shoot you?" 66 But his forbearance was thrown away on the sanguinary" old man of the mountains," who gathered up his strength and weapon anew for a deadly thrust, and, while shouting "I will have blood!” and in the act of springing on his prey, was arrested by the death-shot that his madness invited. The poor girl threw herself on the bleeding body, exclaiming in wild anguish, "Oh my poor father!-my poor father! let me catch your last breath-they have killed you-they have killed you-an' what will your Biddy do without you in the wide world!” We gathered round in silence. The Captain endeavoured to raise her with a few words of comfort, but she flung herself passionately from him. ""Twas you that murdered him-you!-you that were in your sinses an' ought to have known better. Oh!-I tould you to run out of his way, and he'd have been as quiit as a lamb by the time I could have said a Pater' an' Ave' for him-An' now I have no one to pray for." And the desolate creature sat down and wept bitterly. The Counsellor took her hand: "This orphan child, Captain, shall go with me, if you please. I will see her provided for with my sister in Tralee, to whom I am going, and from whom, I doubt not, she will receive more care than she is likely to find on these mountains. Come with me, child.-This is no sight for you." "No-no-no!" cried the girl, violently, "I must watch an' wake my father, an' bury him. I'll not leave him alone among his murderers. I wouldn't desert him for the whole mountains!" "Let her stay, Counsellor; 'twill be a consolation to her to see the last of her poor father, and sit at his head. He was kind to her at least, and 'twould be a sin to desert him now. As to the future, I'll take care of her myself: 'tis a point of honour with Captain Rock to harm his foes as much-and his friends as little as possible. I made her an orphan, and, with the blessing of God, I'll make her an heiress, if there's sheep or black cattle to be had in the lowlands. Good bye, Counsellor. The best luck that can befall us both is never to meet again 'til Ireland's free; and there's other wigs than this" (kicking a piece of furzy turf that had fallen from the shepherd's stack)" to be cut and burnt before that comes to pass. Meantime do you and Phelim take care of each other. Now, boys, put the old man on his door, and be off with him to the Fraughan Rock, where we'll hold the wake. Do you four carry him (the creels are all too small), and tie him on with suggans, or he'll slip off at the first bog-hole you stumble in. Let all the rest of you lay hold of something for the poor child,-bellows, griddle, potato-pot, spinningwheel, churn, stools, and salt-box, every man a handful. It's not the first time that a party of mine has carried off a house,—walls, chimney, thatch, and rafters, piecemeal in ten minutes. Untie the prisoners and load them too. Come, Biddy, dear; give me your hand-you know I've the best right to comfort you now. (To be continued.) THE SINCLAIR CORRESPONDENCE. To whom is Sir John Sinclair unknown? Full fifty years have come and gone since this estimable baronet entered upon public life. It has been his fortune to have been much respected, and very much laughed at. Abroad, his name and works are well known, and in pretty general esteem. At home, he has always been considered to be possessed of a vast lumber-house of information, and a feeble intellect, which is constantly budding forth an infinity of projects, amiable, ingenious, and useless. But it is impossible not to like Sir John: and he has lately published a book, which is a capital copy of the individual. It is occasionally sensible, stupid, laughable, and instructive. He must be a bad man who should dislike it; and we should deem it rather a favourable symptom of any one that he was not disinclined to invest a few shillings in the purchase of it. He will be delighted to see some of the chief characters of that part of the age which is fast passing away, in lights which at least are not familiar, often new, and sometimes very striking. From the rank which Sir John held as a man of family-a gentleman of good fortune-an eminent improver of bad lands and their stock-a member of Parliament-he was able to make the acquaintance of distinguished people to an extent which, in the retrospect, seems surprising. There was no one in Parliament of much note, whether in the Lords or Commons, with whom Sir John had not formed a tolerable intimacy. Old George the Third had a fondness for him, and found a good deal that was kindred in his pursuits. Some of the crowned heads on the continent thought well of him, and gave him interviews, and those sort of things which make a great impression on minds of Sir John's calibre. The foreign ministers regarded him as made up of benevolence. They heard all his projects, which, so far as we have learnt, were never in any instance adopted. The ministers at home looked upon him pretty much in the same light; but there is no denying that he was a bore to them, and very often dealt with accordingly. Still he was in very general favour. An exceedingly well-bred gentleman, he was acceptable in all places. He had no enemies; for, though people quizzed him unmercifully, it would have been absurd to have shown any thing like enmity. While he thus got no enemies, he had the happy facility of making innumerable acquaintances, if not friends: add to this a persevering disposition in letter-writing, with an amiable turn for pretty gross flattery to his correspondents. All these points conduced to an ample connexion, embracing whatever was signal in political, literary, philosophical, or agricultural pursuits. The good-natured reader, to whom the character of our worthy knight may not be so familiar as to his cotemporaries, throughout the long career in which we have known him, must not be surprised to be told that Sir John has essayed the heights of almost every science. It may be true that the eyry flight of his genius never winged to the summit-perhaps not even to the centre; and some ill-tempered people, amongst whom we are not to be classed, will say, scarcely any way at all. But the fact is undoubted that his ambition has carried him into the regions of almost every science, and his success has always been satisfactory to himself. In literature we have Sir John as a philologist, or some such character, in a work which he early published on the Scottish Dialect, and in which the aim of the author, rather unpatriotically we think, is to do away with any distinctions in the speech or writing of the two ends of the island. This book is really curious; but perhaps more curious than useful, for it is nowhere to be found; and it strikes us as rather odd that neither the demands of the public, nor the obliging attention of the author, have produced a fresh edition of a work which was originally brought forward in the heyday of his renown. There is a great deal more in this work than its title or avowed purpose would lead us to suppose. The reader who merely expects a disquisition on phrases and idioms, will find himself further favoured with a "Plan of a British Code of Laws." It had occurred to Lord Bacon that "a judicial union" betwixt England and Scotland might be effected. On this hint Sir John proceeds; and though his illustrious predecessor found the design impracticable, this formed no obstacle to the energies of Sir John: but it is not explained how the union has not yet been achieved. Ever foremost in the cause of his country's fame, Sir John soon persuaded himself of the authenticity of the poems ascribed to Ossian, and he has written a work on the subject. M'Pherson's pride had prevented him from coming forward with all the proofs that were extant. Sir John had no such restraint; and acting with the co-operation of the Highland Societies, he has adduced a vast body of evidence to convince the most sceptical. Even in his green old age the subject is a favourite with him; and we are happy to be informed that he is still engaged about it,— though what remains to be done we do not exactly comprehend. It seems Madame de Staël thought that Ossian was the Homer of the North. "If," says Sir John, "Madame de Staël entertained so high an opinion of the beauties of Ossian in a defective version, what would she not have felt had she perused it in an able translation. But every exertion shall now be made by myself, and the other admirers of Ossian, to do the Celtic bard that justice by a new translation, which will place his name amongst the proudest of those who have hitherto adorned the fields of poetry, and reached its highest ranks." We shall see. Having promised so well, it is to be hoped that his performance will be equal to the promise. His Ossianic studies seemed to have opened up a vein of latent poetry in Sir John's composition, which could certainly not have been discovered by any of the tests which his previous works afforded. The imaginative faculty did not seem to be large,-he dwelt rather in facts; and if his statements could in any instance be ascribed to fancy rather than truth, the fault was certainly not personal, but had arisen from too great credulity in others. It must be said, to Sir John's honour, that whatever be the weaknesses for which he is really responsible, a disregard for truth is not amongst them. Unlike most theorists, his scrupulous love for truth is alike remarkable and creditable. At what particular period Sir John's poetical powers were invented, we are not precisely informed; nor does it clearly appear in what form his effusions were first betrayed. It is recorded, however, that he either wrote a tragedy, or furnished the plan of one we are inclined to think that his efforts were confined to the plan. Like other architects, he does not seem to furnish any more, but left the details to inferior hands. This tragedy was to be called "The Fall of Darius;" and while the glory of the "plan" was to be ascribed to Sir John, the workmanship was to be performed by Miss Joanna Baillie, whom the indefatigable chevalier impressed into his service. That this project failed, we deeply regret, not for the sake of Sir John's poetical renown, but for the sake of the friendly purpose which he had more immediately in view, namely, the relief of some person or family in distress. We have indeed one sample of what Sir John was really equal to, in a complimentary poem; on which he plainly plumes himself, and records as no inconsiderable feat of his muse. It humbly occurs to us, that if the stock does not excel the sample, the commodity must be exceedingly unmarketable. When Sir John was in Paris in the year 1786, he enjoyed the friendship of Buffon, Neckar, and Madame de Genlis. From some circumstances, which are not now very accurately known, it is stated that he was accidentally led to celebrate their praises in some English verses, with which they expressed a degree of satisfaction highly gratifying to I gave this short ode the name of the Literary Tri 66 the author. umvirate." Where real merit dwells, the British muse Can ne'er refuse to praise a Buffon's mind, The last-the charms of morals to display. We doubt, Sir John, if this effusion really did give much satisfaction, except to the complacent author; but we admit that he must be a fastidious poet who is not satisfied with his own lines. In the first place, the ode is grievously incorrect, and somewhat indelicate. De Genlis may have had a masculine mind, but it is placing the gender of the lady in some question to style her a "triumvir." In the next place, the whole affair is nonsense; but we are bound in candour to allow, that this is no serious objection to verses of this description. We only call Sir John's attention to the fact; but in future poetical adventures he should deem it of consequence to be rather more sagacious. It is not very clear what is meant by "Newton's depth" and "Bacon's force," and it is idle to say that there was any proper parallel betwixt them and Buffon: the studies of Buffon had little akin to those of the English philosophers. It is no proper subject of poetical compliment that a page is "full of facts:" and there is no occasion to praise Genlis when she sits down. No sensible person talks of explaining a 'depth." "Real merit," however commendable in fact, is paltry in expression; while "full of strong facts" is infinitely more statistical than poetical. 'May you remain," is precisely such an invocation as would make any person of warmth instantly respond, "No, I won't." This ode has, however, one merit, which is said to be singular, that it can suffer nothing by translation. A Mr. Goddard did the above into French rhymes, and the paraphrase is really very readable. What Sir John calls "the charms of morals," the traducteur renders-toute précepte sevère. This is a point of difference which the versifiers must adjust inter se. 66 From Sir John's poetry we willingly turn to his politics, his codes, and his agriculture. Here we may find much that is ridiculous; but we say unfeignedly, much that is in the highest degree meritorious. The spirit by which he is invariably animated is that of good-will towards all men. The chief object of his life has been the amelioration of mankind, and the improvement of their property. Had he carried as much sound sense into his schemes, as enthusiasm into their conception and execution, the quantity of good that he must have effected would have been incalculable. But it is amusing to witness the mass of what is purely visionary, mixed up with what is truly useful, in Sir John's projects. At one time we find him judiciously employed in promoting enclosures; at another, meditating a tunnel from Dover to Calais. At one time he is giving excellent precepts as to the culture of turnips, and the improvement of wool; at another, he is writing pamphlets to refute the Report of the Bullion Committee. In the same letter, he gives the Duke of York a detailed account of the improvements on his estate in Caithness, and a plan for the improvement of the army. It does not seem to have suggested itself to Sir John that the Duke had other matters to mind besides sheep-farming in an unknown county; and that, perchance, he Sir John, knowing nothing of the art military, was not very likely to afford useful instruction to a man whose life was spent in the service. The subject of parliamentary representation was not likely to escape Sir John; and accordingly, at an early period, he was a vigorous pamphleteer in the cause; but what were his particular dreams we do not at present remember. Though a friend of Mr. Pitt, he was given to reform; and his son, who now represents a county, has taken the side of the Bill. The system for Scotch Militia is said to owe a good deal to Sir John: and it is certain that he published a pamphlet shortly after coming into parliament, in which a measure subsequently adopted, and undoubtedly of great benefit to the country, is advocated with tolerable energy. About the same time he put forth a pamphlet on the propriety of retaining Gibraltar, which has the merit of being directly opposed to the views of public policy, on which that settlement was obtained and has been preserved, but which displays a very fair acquaintance with the history of European policy. If we remember rightly, for it is a long time since we saw the book, Sir John comes to the conclusion,-that we really did not want Gibraltar to give us the command of the Mediterranean, and the possession of it was much more likely to unite France and Spain against us, than to keep them asunder. In this view Dr. Adam Smith concurred; and it is probable that but for the radical change which the French Revolution effected in all established policy, the ill consequences which they apprehended might have ensued. Sir John's vanity was greatly flattered by being told that this pamphlet was ascribed to the first Lord Camelford. The revenue came particularly under Sir John's notice. The subject of finance always calls forth the greatest contrariety of opinion, and it is in truth one of the most difficult within the compass of ordinary studies. But no difficulty was too great for the genius of Sir John; and no antagonist was sufficiently powerful to occasion the slightest dismay. Lord Stair had written something about the finances, and Sir John saw no reason why a baronet should not be as competent on that subject as a baron. He accordingly entered the lists with the noble lord; but whether he beat or was beaten, or whether both were floored, our recollection does not serve us to be able to say correctly. It is probable, however, that Sir John was not displeased with his own prowess, for we soon find him entering the same field, and engaging with no less a combatant than Dr. Price. This seems to have been rather too much. Sir John's armoury was soon exhausted, and we incline to think that the Doctor was unscathed. These controversies, however, had this good effect, that they made Sir John au fait as to revenue. Indefatigable in the collection of facts, he found himself in a condition to write a history of the public revenue, which, though any thing but a good book, is a valuable repertorium. This is one of Sir John's works which is not likely to be thrown away if we mistake not, it has attained to a third or fourth edition. The political economist will do well to place it alongside of his best collections. 66 But the great work, of a literary description, on which Sir John's fame is founded, is his "Statistical Account of Scotland," begun about the year 1790, and completed ten years afterwards. There was nothing novel in the idea, because similar works had frequently been completed on the continent, chiefly, however, under royal or government patronage and expense. No one, and least of all the government, seemed inclined to such an undertaking in this country. Sir John's merit is therefore the greater that, single-handed and upon his own charges, he should have engaged in an enterprise, which we may excuse him for praising as great and laborious." No great talent was required, but it was not to be completed without more or less, and Sir John has exhibited all that was necessary. His exertions were frequently discouraged. When many men would have paused, he chose to persevere; and the result is such as he has reason to be proud of. Nobody laughs at this book, and everybody may be improved by it. We may not be disposed to go all lengths with Sir John, who can talk of it in nothing but superlatives. He is of opinion that the compendium of it, which was published a short time ago, is the best foundation of a code of political economy." This is very likely, but we should be quite as well pleased with this flattering testimonial from another quarter. Sir John is great in codes, and must of |