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result of the conversation between him and Owen was, that he consented to become bail for the appearance of Owen, who was forthwith set at liberty. After he had performed this generous service, the next thing the bailie did was to ascertain who were in the room. The first whom he approached was the inexplicable guide, whom Jarvie instantly recognised, with great astonishment, to be an old acquaintance and kinsman. He was no other than Campbell; and from the course which the conversation took between him and the Baillie, it soon appeared that Campbell was no other than the renowned outlaw,Rob Roy MacGregor. In the course of this prison scene, also, an observation that fell from Mr. Jarvie, put Osbaldistone in mind of the packet he had received from Diana Vernon. The time for the payment of his father's bills had expired within ten days, the period, at which he had been authorised to open the packet, if all other resources failed for discharging the debts,-and he immediately broke the seal. The undirected envelope contained a letter for Campbell, who being on the spot immediately read it. The letter was from Miss Vernon, and urged upon Campbell to undertake a task, which, though without mentioning its nature, he promised to execute, and after engaging the bailie and young Osbaldistone to meet him shortly at one of his resorts, the Clachan of Aberfoil, he departed. The next day as Osbaldistone was taking a walk in the College yard in Glasgow, and musing on recent events, he saw three men at some distance from him, earnestly engaged in conversation; they were Rashleigh, Mac Vittie, and Morris. They soon separated, and as Rashleigh was turning down an avenue, in deep reverie, Francis presented himself suddenly before him. This meeting resulted in a duel, which was broken off just as it was about to end fatally for Rashieigh, by Campbell, who sprang bebetween them, and separating them, sent Rashleigh away, detaining Francis till his cousin was beyond his reach, and then reminding him of the Clachan of Aberfoil, and exhorting him to be punctual, took his leave. Francis returned to the bailie's, and relating the whole story of the quarrel with Rashleigh, the abrupt appearance of Campbell, and the origin of his acquaintance with him, even to the particulars of the affair at Justice Ingle wood's, when he was accused of robbery and treason, deliberated with Jarvie on the most probable mode of regaining the property which Rashleigh had embezzled. The result was a determination to keep
the appointment Campbell had made, and making all necessary preparations for the enterprise, in which the bailie engaged with great zeal, early next morning, they started for the Highlands. They arrived at the place appointed late at night, fatigued and hungry. But the small inn where they purposed to put up and await the appearance of Campbell was occupied by three persons, military men of some apparent consequence, consulting upon important affairs, and they were like not to obtain lodging or refreshment. After a battle, however, between the occupants and the new-comers, in which swords were drawn, and some hard fighting took place, the quarrel was appeased, and all sat down in quiet. In the course of the evening the landlady secretly gave to Young Osbaldistone a paper, which, upon reading it, he found to be a letter from Campbell. The letter ran thus.
"For the honoured hands of Mr. F. O. a
Saxon young gentleman-These.”
"There are night-hawks abroad, so that I cannot give you and my respected kinsman B. N. J. the meeting at the Clachan of Aberfoil, whilk was my purpose. I pray you to avoid unnecessary communication with those you may find there, as it may give fu this is faithful, and may be trusted, and will ture trouble. The person who gives you guide you to a place where, God willing, I may safely give you the meeting, when I trust house, where, in despite of my enemies, I my kinsman and you will visit my poor can still promise sic cheer as any bielandman may gie his friends, and where we will drink a solemn health to a certain D. V. and look to certain affairs whilk I hope to be your aidance in; and I rest, as it wont among gentlemen, your servant to com
R M. C.
It appeared from the conversation of the officers that they were convened for the purpose of devising some method of capturing Rob Roy, and putting down the Mac Gregors. Before the party finished their conversation after supper, an English officer with two or three files of soldiers entered. This officer having orders to arrest two persons, an old one and a young one, and the bailie and Francis answering to this description, and the suspicion being strengthened by the letter from Rob Roy found on the person of young Osbaldistone, he and his friend were taken into custody. The next day the Englishman and his small band took up their march toward the retreat of Rob Roy on the banks of Loch-Lomond. A Highlander, the same that had served as turnkey at the jail in Glasgow, had
been taken prisoner by some of Captain Thorton's band, and, upon being threatened with instant death if he did not disclose the place of Mac Gregor's concealment, had pretended to submit and undertake to act as guide, but in fact led the troops into an ambush, by which they were all cut off, or taken prisoners. This ambush was laid by Helen Mac Gregor, the wife of Rob Roy. The description of the first appearance of the heroine on the top of a rock, fronting the passage of the regular troops, and her majectic looks and demeanour are finely told, and form a striking picture. With the rest of the captured party, the Baillie and his young friend fell into the hands of Helen. Soon after this affair, another party of Highlanders arrived, of very different appear ance from the party commanded by the wife of Mac Gregor, under the guidance of her two sons, Robert and James, who brought the news of their father's capture. He had been betrayed by an invitation to an interview with Rashleigh Osbaldistone. Upon hearing this, Helen became frantic with grief and rage. The messenger, however, who had gone with the invitation to Rob Roy, had been detained by him as a hostage, and was with the band just come up. Burning for vengeance, the wife of Mac Gregor ordered him to be brought before her. It was the craven Morris. The scene which followed is the most tragical in the story, and is drawn with a force of conception-a depth of passion, and an eloquence of expression, scarcely to be equalled. We copy it:
"He fell prostrate before the female Chief, with an effort to clasp her knees, from which she drew back, as if his touch had been pollution, so that all he could do in token of the extremity of his humiliation, was to kiss the hem of her plaid. I never heard entreaties for life poured forth with such agony of spirit. The ecstacy of fear was such, that, instead of paralyzing his tongue, as on ordinary occasions, it even rendered him eloquent, and, with cheeks pale as ashes, hands compressed in agony, eyes that seemed to be taking their last look of all mortal objects, he protested, with deepest oaths, his total ignorance of any design on the person of Rob Roy, whom he
swore he loved and honoured as his own soul.-In the inconsistency of his terror, he said, he was but the agent of others, and be muttered the name of Rashleigh. He prayedbut for life-for life he would give all he had in the world--it was but a little he asked life, if it were to be prolonged under tortures and privations; he asked only breath, though it should be drawn in the damps of the lowest caverns of their hills.
"It is impossible to describe the scorn,
the loathing and contempt, with which the wife of MacGregor regarded this wretched petitioner for the poor boon of existence.
"I could have bid you live," she said, "had life been to you the same weary and wasting burden that it is to me that it is to every noble and generous mind.-But you-wretch! you could creep through the world unaffected by its various disgraces, its ineffable miseries, its constantly accumulating masses of crime and sorrow,--you could live and enjoy yourself, while the noble-minded are betrayed-while nameless and birthless villains tread on the necks of the brave and the long-descended, --you could enjoy yourself, like a butcher's dog in the shambles, battening on garbage, around you! This enjoyment you shall not while the slaughter of the brave went on live to partake of; you shall die, base dog, and that before yon cloud has passed over the sun."
"She gave a brief command in Gaelic to her attendants, two of whom seized upon the prostrate suppliant, and hurried him to the brink of a cliff which overhung the flood. He set up the most piercing and dreadful cries that fear ever uttered-I may well term them dreadful, for they haunted my sleep for years afterward. As the murderers, or executioners, call them as you will, dragged him along, he recognised me even in that mo ment of horror, and exclaimed, in the last ar ticulate words I ever heard him utter, O, Mr. Osbaldistone, save me!-save me!"
"I was so much moved by this horrid spectacle, that although in momentary expectation of sharing his fate, I did attempt to speak in his behalf; but, as might have been expected, my interference was sternly disre garded. The victim was held fast by some, while others, binding a large heavy stone in a piaid, tied it round his neck, and others again eagerly stripped him of some part of his dress. Half-naked, and thus manacled, they hurled him into the lake, there about twelve feet deep, drowning his last death-shriek with a loud halloo of vindictive triumph, above which, however, the yell of mortal agony was distinctly heard. The heavy burden splashed in the dark-blue waters of the lake, and the Highlanders, with their pole-axes and swords, watched an instant, to guard, lest, extricating himself from the load to which be was attached, he might have struggled to regain the shore. But the knot had been se curely bound; the victim sunk without ef fort; the waters, which his fall had disturb ed, settled calmly over him, and the unit of that life for which he had pleaded so strong ly, was for ever withdrawn from the sum of human existence."
Francis Osbaldistone was sent with a message to the leader of the forces, to which Mac Gregor was now captive, by Helen, denouncing terrible vengeance if her husband was not released. The mes sage proved ineffectual; but, nevertheless, as the troops were crossing a deep
and narrow stream, on their way to a place of more security than the station they then occupied, where Rob was to be put to death the next morning, he persuaded the Highland trooper, behind whom he rode, to assist in disencumbering him of his bonds, and effected his escape. Great exertion was made to recapture him, but in vain. As Osbaldistone sat on his horse, where the troop had left him, when they dispersed for the recovery of their prisoner, he heard some of the horsemen, as they returned from the pursuit, ask after himself, and threaten to blow his brains out if they fell in with him, for they said he had given to Mac Gregor the knife with which he had cut the cord that bound him. Hearing this, he thought it best to make good his retreat also. As he was returning, on foot, in a cold, moon-light night, to rejoin the Mac Gregors and the Baillie, on the side of a high heathy hill he was overtaken by two persons mounted on horseback. One of the persons was Diana Vernon. She had only time to deliver to him his father's property, which Rashleigh had been compelled to give up, and to bid him farewell and be happy; which she did with the utmost tenderness of manner, and passed on. This scene is exquisitely touching, and the description of the effect produced upon Frank-the hysterica passio that subdued him-admirable for its truth and force.
Osbaldistone had proceeded on his way but a short time, after this interview, when the words" a braw night, Maister Osbaldistone, we have met at the mirk hour before now"-announced the wellknown voice of Mac Gregor. During the interesting conversation that ensued until their arrival at the village of Aberfoil, Frank learned of Mac Gregor, that the letter, which Diana gave him in the blank envelope, was from the person who was her companion in her present journey, and that he had for a long time resided at Osbaldistone Hall, though unknown to all but Sir Hildebrand, Rashleigh, Miss Vernon, and himself. He also learned that the robbery of Morris was committed by Mac Gregor and Rashleigh,that Rashleigh had turned suspicion upon him, and that it was through the influence of Diana Vernon that he had been rescued from the snare. At the Clachan, or village of Aberfoil, they found Baillie Nicol Jarvie. The good Baillie was much rejoiced to hear of the recovery of the property: and he also had the satisfaction of receiving a thousand merks from Mac Gregor, in discharge of an
old debt. Mr. Osbaldistone and the Baillie now thought about returning home; and after visiting the abode of Mac Gregor, on the romantic shore of Loch Lomond, where Heien gave to Frank a ring from Diana Vernon, as the pledge of her af fection, they proceeded by water to the foot of the lake, whither their horses had been conducted by Dougal, the trusty turnkey, and were now waiting for them. Upon their arrival in Glasgow, Frank found his father there. The meeting between them was tender and affectionate; the father had forgotten his disgust, in view of the zeal and enterprise his son had so recently displayed in the recovery of his property, and his greeting was warm and fond. Owen partook in the joy. The elder Osbaldistone had just returned from Holland, with his credit renewed and extended, by the success of his speculations on the Continent; and having made a deserved return to the scoundrel house of Mac Vittie, Mac Fin and company, by closing his concerns with them for ever, and putting all his business nto the hands of Nicol Jarvie, who had proved himself so honest a man and true à friend, he and Frank and Owen set out on their return to London. Their departure was hastened by the breaking out of the rebellion in behalf of the Stuart family, which had been thus suddenly brought to a head by the treachery and intrigues of Rashleigh. In the course of this contest, old Sir Hildebrand Osbaldistone lost his five eldest sons, Thorncliff being killed in a quarrel with a Northumbrian officer, on the first day of the muster, and the rest meeting with their deaths in the peculiar road of their vices and follies. Rashleigh he had disin herited, in favour of his nephew Francis. The old gentleman himself was taken prisoner and thrown into Newgate as a captive rebel. The account of the joyous old knight's last days is a fine specimen of the pathetic.
Upon the extinction of the family of Sir Hildebrand, the father of Francis wished him to act upon the will of his uncle, and he accordingly set off once more for Osbaldistone Hall. The will of Sir Hildebrand was lodged with Justice Inglewood; Francis therefore went first to him. The old Justice received him with great cordiality, and enabled him to enter into immediate possession of the estate.
From Justice Inglewood he learns that Diana Vernon is not married, but that she has gone, or is going to a convent,→ that the person who was travelling with
her through the Highlands, when he net her and regained his father's property at her hands, was no other than her father, and, also, that her father was no other than the priest Vaughan. Diana had not yet taken the veil, for upon his arrival at the Hall, he finds her there, with her father, awaiting an expected opportunity to retire to France.
Rashleigh, who had undertaken to set aside his father's will, once more comes in to make disturbance, and procuring a warrant, through the instrumentality of a profligate attorney, causes Sir Frederick Vernon and Diana to be arrested for treason, and Francis Osbaldistone for misprision of treason. As he is taking thein off in the old family coach of Osbaldistone Hall, they are rescued by Rob Roy and a small party of the Mac Gregors, who had come, by appointment, to convey Sir Frederick and his daughter to some port where they might embark for the continent. In the affray, Rob kills Rashleigh with his own hands, and with his death every thing becomes quiet.
Old Sir Frederick Vernon, not long after his retreat to France, dies, and Frank, with full consent of his father, goes to France to find Diana, whom he brings home his wife. Baillie Nicol
Jarvie had before this taken "the lassock, Mattie" to wife, and he lived on prosperously to a good old age. Rob Roy continued to maintain himself on his native hills, and levy black mail, until, notwithstanding his violent life, he was gathered to his fathers at an advanced age, about the year 1736.
Such is a general outline of the story of "Rob Roy." The quotations we have made are but a very small portion of the fine passages which we might have introduced; and we have given them, rather because they helped us in the abstract of the story, than to furnish specimens of
The character of Rob Roy is drawn with great strength and precision, and exhibits the finest specimen of the mountaineer that we have ever seen. Some may, perhaps, complain that Rob is not introduced earlier in the narrative. But this would be a complaint grounded on a name rather than a fact, for although he does not appear under his distinguishing appellation till very late in the story, yet, under the disguise of a less redoubtable title, in the very outset, he gives to the machine a motion, which, like the ripple
over the back of Leviathan before he exbibits his scaly strength upon the surface, clearly indicates his huge propor
tions and resistless energy. And, although he reader may grow somewhat impatient, as he proceeds in the first perusal of the work, at not meeting with the great object of his curiosity, yet when he discovers that he has been for a long time near at hand, and even in his presence, the retroactive effect augments his pleasure on the whole, and enhances his admiration of the singular individual who can thus elude knowledge, and yet be constantly leaving the most formidable tokens of his proximity.
Rashleigh appears most like a pure invention of any character in the whole piece. He is not the offspring of circumstances-not produced by the influences of the times-nor does he derive any of his qualities from his parentage, or from his private relations and individual pursuits. He is a sort of abstraction of great, but bad qualities. Richly endowed with talents, of singular energy of will, of the most restless disposition, and acting upon principles wholly selfish, the chief use of his introduction is to connect Rob Roy with the rest of the personages of the story, and furnish him with ample opportunity to act. If it were not for Rashleigh and his doings, Rob would have little occasion for the display of some of the most admirable traits of his character-his fidelity-his generosity-his astonishing presence of mind--his boldness in devising schemes, and his celerity in executing them-his never-slumbering circumspection-his magnanimity and his honour. The portrait of the Mac Gregor is painted in such strong colours-is made up of such broad masses of light and shade-that it requires the deep and dark ground of Rashleigh's character to give it proper relief and ena ble it to produce the most striking effect.
Baillie Nicol Jarvie is a most amusing, honest, downright, upright, loquacious, valiant weaver, residing in the Salt-Market, Glasgow. He is of great importance to the progress of the story, and his character is happily conceived and well sustained.
As for Andrew Fainservice, though he stands a striking proof of the author's versatile talents, extensive range of observation, and skill in character, yet we cannot but consider him an excrescence upon the story, which he neither aids nor ornaments. He is a sort of receptacle which the author has prepared for the purpose of collecting in it all the meanest
traits of the Lowland Scotch character.
The character of Diana Vernon is of the most fascinating kind. Her wit and
her wisdom her frankness and her dignity-her intrepidity-her generosity-her filial piety-her hard fate in being doomed either to marry a man whom she scorns, or be shut up in a convent, when she was so fitted to enjoy and ornament society; and, added to all, her personal beauty, render her, in our estimation, one of the most interesting and delicious females upon record.
Helen Mac Gregor is a bold, rude fragment sketched with great spirit; she is a fit wife for Rob Roy, acting most heroically and speaking most eloquently. Of Francis Osbaldistone, we have only room to say, that we were happy to find his many merits and his love rewarded by the possession of Diana Vernon: of the other persons, though there are several among them that have contributed much to our pleasure, we have not room
to speak at all. There are many, phrases, in the course of the work, taken from Shakspeare, not on account of poverty, but for the sake of ornament, and of manifesting the author's attachment to the old bard: knowing his own opulence, he was not afraid to borrow.
Thus have we endeavoured to give some account (how inadequate it is, we are conscious) of the last as well as of the preceding works of the author of Waverly. If we have spoken, almost without qualification, in their praise, it was because we were, almost without exception, pleased with what they contained; and if we could be instrumental in extending the popularity of these works, we should congratulate ourselves upon our good fortune, and regard it as an indication of the prevalence of a correct, discerning taste in the public, L.
ART. 8. Plan of the Society for the promotion of Industry; with the first Report of the Board of Managers, and the names of the Subscribers to the Institution. New-York. Printed for the Society, 1816. By J. Seymour.
Proposed Constitution of the "New-York Society for the prevention of Pauperism." Report, &c.
There is no country in the world where plans for the improvement of the condition of society meet so little obstruction as in this. With us, errors derive no veneration from their antiquity, and prejudice acquires, comparatively speaking, but little authority from custom.
We are yet a "recent people," to use the language of Mr. Burke-we have "not yet hardened into the bone of manhood;" we have not a little of the enthusiasm of youth-we have a great deal of its activity and enterprise ;-and we have not a single mark about us of the timidity, the decrepitude, or the decay of age. There are yet among us not a few who were born in an age so much ruder than this, that we should hardly believe it could have been so near us, but for the living evidences of the fact-born under political and religious institutions which they had no power to alter-when the means of education were small, and the ability to employ them was partial and occasional-when the principal employment of the labourer was in the tillage of fields recently cleared, and in subduing the forests which skirted them; when that of the soldier was in hunting down the savages who inhabited those forests; when science and learning were considered as having hardly any thing to do with society at large; when the knowledge of medicine was little more than the knowledge of the names of remedies and diseases; and when justices of the peace were almost identified with justice itself.
The change which has since taken place has been extraordinary; we think, unparalleled. Our armies and our ships have presented more than one spectacle to the polished warriors of Europe not less surprising than that which met the eyes of Fitz-James, when the followers of Rhoderick Dhu rose, at his signal, from the brake and copse wood that a moment before seemed the only tenants of the broken and barren declivity which they occupied. Our learned pro
fessions are not wanting in talent, and there are men, in every one of them, whom we should not. be afraid to commit to the hazard of a contest with the ablest of whom we have heard in the United Kingdoms. Our administration of justice, in its higher departments, is without a stain; and our judicial benches are occupied by inen, whose superiors are not now to be found in Westminster-Hall.
But what we most delight in is the condition of union of qualities not easily kept togetherour society, which presents a most uncommon simplicity and refinement. We have not the without its effeminacy, its licensed voluptuouspomp and splendour of aristocracy, but we are ness, and its unfeeling oppression. Wealth with. us is not without its power, but it has not yet enrolled or pensioned its classes of sycophants and parasites. There are no artificial bars or obstructions to turn talent aside from the path of distinction-and though honour and favour are not always exactly apportioned to virtue, yet we think that there is no country where it is so sure to find friends, and so secure of its reward. Now we think it manifest that this state of things indicates a great degree of excitement and activity in the public mind, and is itself at once the prosperous and auspicious result of that activity. We have exhibited all the zeal which marks a reformation, and all the spirit which characterizes a revolution, without the bigotry of
the one, or the violence of the other. We have not been afraid to trust our most important interests to the practical result of our own theories; but we have not disregarded the lights of experience, or the authority of precedent. Our public and our social character has been perhaps as much distinguished by the sobriety and discretion which belong to age, as by the impulse and generosity which swell the veins, and expand the bosom of youth. Our fathers were placed in a state of things entirely new; we, their children,