the counter. In spite of these defects, how- | into tediousness, and her pictures are so lifeever, the book shows many indications of like that it is impossible not to believe that talent which fairly earn the favor with which most of them were drawn from a living it has been received. The ease with which model. She is very happy in her hearty character is brought out in the minutest inci- descriptions of vintage feasts, and such-like dents of daily life reminds the English reader genial festivities-still more so in depicting of Miss Austen's manner; and the authoress the absurdities of the stiff old German possesses, in a considerable degree, one of etiquette. Here is a description of the daily the rarest of a novelist's powers-the power dinner in the office of a Stadtschreiber, or of bringing a scene vividly before the eye by town-clerk of the olden time ;a few slight strokes. The religious portion of the book presents a strange medley to an Englishman's eyes. The perplexity with which some light of Exeter Hall would read it would be very much akin to the puzzled helplessness of the Evangelical Alliance when they were called on to worship in the Prussian church, and to offer up prayers of the most irreproachable orthodoxy in front of the idolatrous crucifix and the accursed candles. In the same way the hymns and the prayers with which this book abounds might have been composed by Dr. Cumming himself; but side by side with them appear disturbing celebrations of festivals and saints'days, of Advent and Lent, and even references to a confessor! But there is much in the ecclesiastical condition of Germany which would perplex a London controversialist. What would the litigants on both sides of the great St. Barnabas case have said if they had known that the ritual points for which they were contending with such acharnement were, in reality, much more closely akin to the forms of Lutheranism than to those of Rome ?

Madame Ottilie Wildermuth is a religionist of a sterner and more practical school. Swabian Portraits and Tales are a series of sketches, some of them exquisitely humorous, of the strongly marked manners and customs of the inhabitants of the Valley of the Neckar. Sometimes they are in the form of individual portraits-sometimes they follow the fates of some castle or cloister-sometimes they lengthen into the dimensions of a fully developed story. A few of them belong to the present day; but she dwells with more pleasure on the past, the days of the Thirty-years' War, or the "bag-wig age," or the War of Liberation. Her style is quiet and refined, and she scrupulously avoids artfully constructed plots or exciting incidents; but a constant vein of sarcasm saves the ameness of her story from degenerating DCCVIII. LIVING AGE. VOL. XIX. 47

"The best view of the collective personnel of the office was to be had at table, where all assembled for dinner at the sound of the bell or the call of the maid-servant, and after a prayer and a hymn for grace, arranged themselves in their appointed rank and order. At a stately, well-fed figure; on his right the the top naturally presided the Stadtschreiber, Frau Stadtschreiberin, an extremely courteous little woman; and then the guests of the day, of whom the house was seldom empty, followed by the daughters of the family. Then began the row of clerks. First came and even a napkin with a bead-worked ring the Deputy, who was honored with two plates, round it. It was strongly suspected that this last was a present from Miss Caroline, the second daughter, for whose hand he dared to hope, if only Mina, the eldest and plainest of the daughters, could be provided for; for the Frau Stadtschreiberin was firmly resolved 'not to cut the oats before the spelt.' Next plates, but no napkin; after him the other came the Sub-deputy, who had also two clerks, who, in default of a title, were addressed by their names; and last of all, on a common kitchen-stool, the Probationer, who had to be always ready to reach anything to anybody. But you might tell the descending place was provided, still better than by the scale by the wine bottles with which each. seats. Before the master's place at the top there was nothing but the bright glass. The bottle of recherché wine with which he and his guests were served, stood somewhat in the background, so that no one might be able to remark how much the Herr Prinzipal Sub-deputy were provided with a bottle of was pleased to take. The Deputy and the red table wine apiece; and then came a graduated row of still smaller bottles of a paler and more doubtful color, and sharper flavor, till the ranks were closed by the Probationer's half-pint of cider.

66

subordinates dare to open their mouths, exDuring the meal, seldom did any of the cept to answer when they were spoken to. Only the two deputies carried on a conversation with the master and mistress of the house, concerning the news of the town, or ventured now and then on a joke with the

daughters, or with the guests, who often consisted of young ladies. After soup, meat, and vegetables were removed, the Deputy rose with a full glass: Herr Stadtschreiber, I have the honor of drinking your health.' The commanding head answered 'with a gracious bow: I thank you, Mr. Deputy, and wish the same to you.' Then arose the Sub-deputy with a similar speech, and received for answer, Thank you, Mr. Sub-deputy.' Like an echo the speech rang from mouth to mouth. The clerks were dispatched with Thanks, Herr Beutemuller, Herr Mayer,' and so on. The Probationer, with his ciderglass, got nothing but an 'All right.' Then the whole corps beat a retreat, unless the Deputy was thought worthy of a special invitation to remain."

6

"The mother was sitting by the bed of her sick sleeping child, and thinking on many things-but not on associations-when in came Nathalie softly, with her night-light. What are you still up, child? Yes, mother,' began Nathalie, much embarrassed. I want to ask you something.' What is it, child ? Mother,' said the girl, anxiously, tell me, can it be that I am in love with' Ludwig, the apothecary's boy? You, child! cried the horrified mother. Indeed,' sobbed the girl, Clara says so, and that I can never forget him all my life long. O! mother, is it true; and can I never have any one else? And he is so stupid.' The poor child cried enough to soften a stone. But, child,' asked the mother, distracted, what makes you think this?' . 'Some weeks ago, while I was practising the new Servian melodies, and afterwards while I was changing the What is that blockhead doing there?" I water in my flower-pot, Ludwig stood below. asked of Clara. Then she looked at me so strangely and deeply-O! I cannot tell you how-and said, "Nathalie, do you not know what silent love is ?" Yes, I know," said I. Then she pointed to where Ludwig stood, and

66

66

"Und so sass er viele Tage

Viele Jahre lang

Harrend ohne Schmerz und Klage

Bis das Fenster klang."

But notwithstanding her sarcastic tone, it is evident that her leaning is to the customs of bygone times. She would gladly bring back the women of this generation to the wholesomer times when the Hausfrau gave herself up to knitting and sewing, the care of the cows and the pigs, and the oversight of the morals of the housemaids; and when young ladies were content to take the hus-whispered in my ear— bands whom their parents chose, without asking any questions about love. And she is merciless in her sarcasms on the "sorrows à la Werther," the "clouded futures," and "blighted lives," which German ladies look on as the necessary pastime of their youths, as well as on the "unions," and "associations," and endless philanthropies which engross their matronly years. The modern discovery of regenerating the world through the medium of Ladies' Committees finds no favor in her eyes. Her contrast between a wife of the olden and a wife of the modern time is one of the most amusing pieces in the book. The modern wife is an excellent woman, but incessantly engaged in associations for the relief of destitute girls, or the education of foundlings, or in collecting money for the liberation of Schleswig Holstein, or hearing lectures on the genius of Sophocles. Of course she never goes near the nursery or the kitchen, and the result is a series of domestic mishaps. Among them are the misdeeds of a governess whom she has engaged to take care of her daughters, and who is remarkable not only for her virtuous sentiments, but also for her poetical and romantic character. The result is disclosed in a conversation between the mother and a daughter of sixteen, which is worth extracting:

"And she talked to me like this for many days after. How Ludwig had an unspeakable love for me, and stood for hours long in the cold night to hear the sound of my voice. flower; and I did that twice. And she left At last she plagued me to throw him just one me no peace till I threw him down a lock of my hair-that was his greatest wish. But you know that I do not wear curls, and I would not cut off any of my hair; but I had combed out a good deal, and some of that I once threw down. I have never once spoken with Ludwig. Lately, when I was fast asleep, she came with a light to my bedside; I woke lie, thou lovest." "I!" said I. up, and she said with a solemn voice, "Natha"Whom, then? "Thou lovest Ludwig, and thou wilt love him to all eternity." I cried at this, and would not believe it, for he did not please me at all; but she proved it to me clearly, and told me that because I had thrown him him for all eternity. And it was so horrible! flowers and a lock of my hair, I belonged to I have been so unhappy all this last week. But tell me, mother, sobbed the child, I don't love Ludwig, and I don't belong to him altogether, do I?' 'Of course not, you simpleton! Ludwig is a silly youth, and probably wishes for you as little as you do for him.' Yes, yes! that may be,' exclaimed Nathalie, much relieved, and she went com

....

forted to bed. . . . . Ludwig was examined emotion are not put forward as tests of piety the next morning and told nearly the same her characters, when they are religious, story. Clara had spoken to him in the house and on his lonely botanical rambles, and assured him how much Nathalie loved him, and how she lamented that he never came under the window when she sang. So at last, with great sorrow of heart, he had begun these window parades, and carried home the flowers, but not the hair.""

Throughout all her stories, Madame Wildermuth keeps constantly in view the religious aim with which she is evidently writing; but it does not break out into the fervent ecstasies of the Diary. She belongs to an older and better school of religious teachers, who are fast being argued out of existence in these days of religious wrangle. Descriptions of

show it, not in fervor, but in unaspiring usefulness. There is a good deal in her beau ideal of piety that is characteristic of her nation-it is genial and jovial, and is largely compounded of Lebenslust and Lebensfreude. It smacks strongly of that fat, unascetic devotion which is eminently Teutonic, and which made Luther so thoroughly a representative man. But it is still more strongly imbued with common-sense, which we are not wont to consider as an eminently German quality, and which, so far as religion is concerned, is becoming rare enough even in England, which is supposed to be its special habitation.

JOHN SOBIESKI AND CHARLES EDWARD genealogical fiction, has clearly shown that STUART.-Who are the "John Sobieski " ́and these modern Pretenders are no other individ"Charles Edward" Stuart, authors of Lays uals than John Hay Allan and Charles Stuart of the Deer Forest, published by Blackwood in Hay Allan. As the reviewer justly remarks: 1848? What is their history, and what found-"Now this is a serious matter. We are far ations are there for the claims they seem to set up to be the descendants and representatives (?) of the " Chevalier?"" Are they, or the Louisa Sobieska " and the " Charles," to whom the volumes of the "Lays" are respectively dedicated, still living, and where?

from wishing to curb in any way the fancy of our historical novelists, or to examine too closely the actual existence of every knight or noble whom a writer of that class may present to us as achieving mighty deeds in the train of Philip Augustus or of Pedro the Cruel; but when we are told that a legitimate son of Charles Edward Stuart was alive as late as 1831, and that two of his sons are writing or editing books in 1846, the truth or falsehood of such a statement concerns the history of our own time and country much too nearly to be so lightly disposed of."-Quarterly Review, vol. lxxxi. p. 57. See also Burke's Romance of the Aristocracy, vol. ii. p. 245.]-Notes and Queries.

From

AMERICAN NOMENCLATURE.-Mr. Shattuck of Boston, Massachusetts, has recently published a volume of curious American names. this singular and interesting work the following extract is given:

[We had always been led to believe that the celebrated inscription on the tomb of Cardinal York in St. Peter's at Rome, announced an historical fact, "HERE LIES THE LAST OF THE STUARTS." But in 1842 a mysterious personage in the Highlands came forward to instruct his less learned countrymen in the mysteries of plaids and badges in a work entitled Vestiarium Scoticum, by John Sobieski Stuart. About thirty years ago, a description of the MS. of this work, with a transcript of a portion of it, was sent to the Society of Scottish Antiquaries, with a request that they would patronize its publication; and by their Secretary the specimen was placed in the hands of Sir Walter Scott. Sir Walter assured the Society that the style and dialect of the specimen shown him were a most feeble and clumsy imi-troit a family whose sons were named, One tation of the genuine writing of the period, Stickney, Two Stickney, Three Stickney; and and indignantly declared his conviction that whose daughters were named, First Stickney, the MS. itself must be an absolute fabrication. Second Stickney, and so on. The three chilBut it was not till the year 1847, that a more dren of a family nearer home were Joseph, bold attempt was made to persuade the world And, Another; and it has been supposed that that Charles Edward Stuart had left a legiti- should they have any more they might have mate male progeny. This was done in a work named them Also, Moreover, Nevertheless, entitled Tales of the Century; or Sketches of Notwithstanding. An instance is also given of the Romance of History between the Years 1746 and 1846. By John Sobieski and Charles it would be their last; but having afterwards parents who named their child Finis, supposing Edward Stuart. This led a writer in The

"We once had under our instruction in De

Quarterly Review to investigate the claims of three more children, a daughter and two sons, these two brothers to the illustrious pedigree they were called Addenda, Appendix, and they had concocted, and by exposing their Supplement."—Notes and Queries.

From The Literary Gazzette.

It

"must be as particular as it is positive. Transactions of the Ossianic Society. Vol. will not be sufficient that a Highland gentleIII. The Pursuit after Diarmuid Oman or clergyman say or write to you that Duibhne, and Grainne the Daughter of he has heard such poems; nobody questions Cormac Mac Airt, King of Ireland in that there are traditional poems in that part the Third Century. Edited by Standish Hayes O'Grady, Esq. Dublin: John O'Daly.

of the country, where the names of Ossian and Fingal, Oscar and Gaul, are mentioned in every stanza. The only doubt is, whether these poems have any further resemblance to the poem published by Macpherson. I was told by Bourke, a very ingenious, Irish gentleman, the author of a tract on the Sublime and Beautiful, that on the first publication of Macpherson's book, all the Irish cried out, We know all these poems; we have always heard them from our infancy;' but when he asked more particular questions he could never learn that any one had ever heard, or could repeat, the original of any one paragraph of the pretended translation." Since these days the Ossianic literature has attracted attention on wider ground than as affecting the credit of Macpherson. It is now admitted on all hands that the poems which formed the substratum of his Ossianic epic had reached Scotland from Ireland, where they were more widely known, and where, if anywhere, the originals were to be found. Gawin Douglas, the old, Scottish poet, alludes thus to the Celtic heroes of legendary renown, among other subjects of romantic fiction :

SIXTY years ago, in the year 1797, the Highland Society of Edinburgh appointed a Committee to inquire into the nature and authenticity of the "Poems of Ossian." Queries were transmitted to every one who, from personal knowledge or opportunities of inquiry, was supposed capable of throwing light on the subject. The result of the investigation was not of a very satisfactory kind. There was no lack of traditionary and vague evidence of the existence of Gaelic poems and ballads, but no authentic manuscripts of ancient date were brought forward. The conclusion was that Macpherson had obtained the stories and the names in his Ossianic poems from oral traditions, while the language, sentiments, and descriptions in the greater part of them were his own. Subsequent researches by Scottish antiquaries were not greatly more successful. The most remarkable literary relic that has yet been brought to light is the Gaelic manuscript commonly called "The Dean of Lismore's Book," now preserved in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates, at Edinburgh. The date of this manuscript is of the years 1512-" 1529.

An account of this curious book was given by the Rev. Thomas M'Lauchlan, in Part I. of Vol. II. of the "Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland." It contains a collection of ancient poems, which, in the beginning of the sixteenth century, were still commonly current in the Scottish Highlands. Had this book been known in the days of Dr. Johnson, the great Ossian controversy might have assumed a different aspect. When Macpherson was accused of forging the manuscripts of which his poems were alleged to be translations, he haughtily refused to satisfy any one who doubted his veracity, and never came nearer to the point than asserting that an ancient manuscript of part of Fingal was in possession of some Highland family. David Hume, who was willing to take the national side in the controversy, wrote to Dr. Blair to urge him to seek for evidence which might satisfy English men of letters. "The testimony," he said,

Great Gow MacMorn, and Fin MacCoul, and

how

They suld be goddis in Ireland, as men say."

There is little doubt that it was from Ireland that the legends came to Scotland, although at what period cannot now be determined. The similarity of language and manners, and the constant intercourse between the two countries, rendered the transmission of popular pieces of poetry from one nation to the other a simple and common event. Even the lowland poets at the earliest periods of Scottish literature notice these ancient, traditionary legends. Barbour, who wrote in 1375, describes his hero, Robert the Bruce, when defeated by MacDougal of Lorn, placing himself in the rear of his retiring bands, and checking the pursuit of his victors. "Behold him," said MacDougal to one of his chieftains, "he protects his followers against us, as Gaul, the son of Morni, defended his tribe against the rage of Fingal." In Ireland, these tales

6

of ancient times were universally familiar. | of thine, O Fionn?' quoth he. Not withAs "Bourke," the very ingenious, Irish gen- out cause have I made this early rising,' said Fionn; for I am without a wife, without a tleman, said, "they knew all these poems, and had heard them from their infancy." mate since Maighneis the daughter of Garadh We now know more of the real history of glundubh mac Moirne died; for he is not wont to have slumber nor sweet sleep who the Fenian romances than Edmund Burke happens to be without a fitting wife, and that could have anticipated. Through the labors is the cause of my earling rising, O Oisin.' of zealous Irish antiquaries numerous manu-What forceth thee to be thus?" said Oisin; scripts have been collected, in which the ex- 'for there is not a wife nor a mate in the ploits of Fionn mac Cumhaill, or Fin Mac-green-landed island Erin upon whom thou Coul (the Fingal of Macpherson), and many thy sight, whom we would not bring by fai mightest turn the light of thine eyes or of other wonderful events of ancient Irish his- means or by foul to thee.' And then spoke tory, are recorded. It is for the publication Diorruing, and what he said was: 'I myself of a series of these manuscripts that the could discover for thee a wife and a mate beOssianic Society has been formed in Dublin. fitting thee.' Who is she?' said Fionn. They have already issued two volumes. TheShe is Grainne the daughter of Cormac the first is a prose and poetical account of the son of Airt the son of Conn of the hundred Battle of Gabhra (or Garristown), in Dublin battles,' quoth Diorruing, that is the woman that is fairest of feature and form and speech county, fought A.D. 283, between Cairbre of the women of the globe together.' By Liffeachair, King of Leinster, and the thy hand, O Diorruing," said Fionn, 'there is Fenian forces of Ireland, in which the latter strife and variance between Cormac and mywere defeated, and their ranks finally bro- self for a long time, and I think it not good ken up. The second volume is an account nor seemly that he should give me a refusal of the Festivities at the House of Conan of of marriage; and I had rather that ye should both go to ask the marriage of his daughter Ceann Sleibhe, a romantic hill on the borders for me of Cormac, for I could better bear a of the lake of Inchiquin, in the county of refusal of marriage to be given to you than Clare. This document contains a colloquy to myself.' We will go there,' said Oisin, between Fionn and Conan, in which much though there be no profit for us there and light is thrown on the ancient topography of let no man know of our journey until we come Munster, and also on the habits and customs back again."" of the Fenian chieftains. The third volume, now published; narrates an event famous in Irish romance, the elopement of Grainne, or Grace, daughter of Cormac Mac Airt, King of Ireland, with Diarmuid O'Duibhne. In many parts of Ireland there are stone remains called by the peasants to this day "Diarmuid and Grainne journeyed with the. Leapthacha Dhiarmada agus Ghrainne, the Siona (Shannon) on their right hand westbeds of Dhiarmuid and Grainne, traditionally ward until they reached Garbh-abha na supposed to be the resting-places of that bh-Fiann, which is called Leamhan now; and famous couple during their flight and wan-Diarmuid killed a salmon on the bank of the derings. In the Book of Lismore there is a short poem on the death of Diarmuid. From the tale of the pursuit of Diarmuid and Grainne, we do not wonder at their adventures being popular in the days of the bards and minstrels. The story thus opens :

"On a certain day that Fionn Mac Cumhaill rose at early morn in Almhuin the broad and great of Laighean, and sat upon the grassgreen plain without, having neither servant nor attendant by him, there followed him two of his people; that is to say, Oisin the son of Fionn, and Diorruing the son of Dobhar O'Baoisgne. Oisin spoke, and what he said was: What is the cause of this early rising

The journey to the King of Erin, whom they found with his army on the plain of Teamhair, the negotiation, the wooing, the flight of the bride with Diarmuid, are most graphically told, and then follows the narrative of the adventures during the pursuit:

he himself and Grainne went over across the Leamhan, and put it on a spit to broil. Then stream to eat it, as Aonghus had told them; and they went thence westward to sleep. Diarmuid and Grainne rose early on the morrow, and journeyed straight westward until they reached the marshy moor of Finuliath, and they met a youth upon the mor, and the feature and form of that youth was good, but he had not fitting arms nor armor. Diarmuid greeted that youth, and asked tidings of him. am a young warrior seeking a lord,' quoth, and Muadhan is my name.' What wilt thou do for me, O youth?' said Diarmuid. I will do thee service by day, and I will watch thee by night,' said Muadhan.

Then