The Sun.
London, England, 1822-07-12 00:00:00

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FRIDAY, JULY 12, 1822.

LITERARY NOTICE.

Ma. GALT's NOVELS.—We had intended to
express the pleasure which the novels written
by this Gentleman have afforded as, bat we shall
avail ourselves at present of an article on the
subject addressed to the Editor of BLACKIrOOII4B
Magazine for last month. It is stated to have
been written by " an occasional Contributor."
—The following is the article in which, how-
ever, we have deemed it necessary to omit some
passages :

" The Annals of the Parish' is niy greatest favourite.—
There is nothing at all resembling it that I know of in our 11..
terature. Ido not in the least understand what those persons
mean who have complimented Micah Balwhidder on his like-
ness to the Vicar of Wakefield. He has none. But they arc
both clergymen, and both most excellent, worthy, primitive,
simple men,—and that to indiscriminating minds is enough.---
I 'vas rather surprised to observe a remark of this kind in your
own Magazine. It could not hive meout the pen of one
of your choice spirits. I hate that habit of finding resemblances
to which some people are addicted. They never see the real
essential character of any body's face, figure, or mind, but only
what is on the surface. Accordingly, if two men have each a
shortish or a longish nose, they are thought to be extremely
like—quite like brothers—although as unlike as your divine
Maga is to the human Monthly. When applied to books, such
criticism is pernicious. Authors of genius are defrauded of the
praise due to their originality, and are called Plagiaries at the
very time they have produced what is peculiarly their von.--•
Micah Balwhidder is no monogamist, God knows, like the
English vicar. Is his manse like the vicarage ? Has he sons
and daughters in it, with long, happy, or tragical histories ?
Is he subjected to many mutations of fortune ? and does he be-
come the inmate of a prison ?—But, in short, I need say no
more to you, whose own good sense must see and despise the
folly of all such criticism as I have alluded to. The Annals
of the Parish' is altogether a little volume per se, (it may be
called a Per se Anecdote.) and its beautiful, and at the same
time most diverting and touching details of the life and charac-
ter of one dwelling retired in his simplicity,' will delight every
true Scottish heart, as long as there remains in Scotland a de.
vout remembrance of the spirit of times not yet, it is to be hop.
ed, quite passed away—a spirit peculiar altogether to our native
lan

" ' The Ayrshire Legatees' is as clever as can be, but less
orin: :al. I can imagine several people able to have written as
good' or better things than it, excellent as it is ; but the
i Annals' are altogether inimitable. Mr. and Mrs. Pringle
are fine old bodies • but Miss is not much to my liking;
and my 4 Son Andrew' is a dull dog. Indeed he is, I
presume, meant to be so, as the beau ideal of a young
Edinburgh Whig advocate ; and all that is very well.—
But the, author sometimes forgets his satire, and seems
to share in the general delusion, and to think Andrew an
oracle. Now and then, however, the young Scotch Whig is
most truly absurd, with his disquisitionary epistles, as if he
were writing for the ' Supplement,' and adapting himself to
Macvey. This Scotch formality is well kept up throughout all
his epistles; and one feels how he must have been smiled at by
the easy, elegant, careless, clever, young English barristers,
from Oxferd and Cambridge. His idea of getting into Parlia-
ment—like another Tom Itennedy—is very diverting. There
can be no doubt that had not his eanvass failed, (for his name
is no where to be seen in the list), he would have assisted Sir
James Mackintosh in his appropriate attempt to diminish the
number of crimes. I said that Miss Rachel Pringle was not
much to my liking. But what then ? She was a fine-made
girl, much to the liking of Captain Sabre; and I hope she has
had too much good sense to spoil it by nursing. But really,
when I think on all the country characters, I feel that I almost
wrong this little volume, in placing, it much behind the ' An-
nals. The author breathes freely_. his face brightens—and his
whole nature is itself when in the country, and when that coun-
try is Scotland. He must have been a most happy boy, and
very tricky in and out of school ; fond of bathing, and bird-nest-
ing; climbing trees with the callants, and " pu'ing gowans
fine' with the lasses. Clearly and tenderly, and gladsomely,
too, does he remember the 4 days o' auld Lang syne.' And as
the ' boy is father of the man,' I have no doubth, that though
now the inhabitant of a great city, his heart still is among the
scenes of other years,—and those happy and harmless beings
whom his genius so beautifully and pathetically describes.
" ' Sir Andrew 'Wylie's boyhood is just as good as any thing
in the ' Annals,' or ' Ayrshire Legatees ;' but when he gets to
London, he and his lot become somewhat incomprehensible._
He Rio sooner shews his face in company, high or low, but he
ups with the first fiddle, and leads the band. Unlike the un-
successful simpleton, who did not know whether or not he
could play, as he had never tried. Every one listens to him,
consults him, and acts on hii advice. He mounts up by a flight
of enchanted steps from chambermaid to countess—from my
lass to my lady—from my gentleman's gentleman to Lord--
Earl—Duke—Prince—King: and there can be no doubt, that
if he had been sent on an embassy to China, (it is not too late
yet) he would have confounded the head of the Celestial empire,
and been hand and glove with the sun and moon in a jitihy.—
My Gore ! how I envy Sir Andrew Wylie, Baronet, of that
Ilk, his appearance and success in all companies I—l who
now write to you, my dear Sir, am a very decent-looking ,
young man, as you know, nothing particularly old, or dis-
gusting, that I know of in my person or manners, and not.an
absolute ass like the Colonel ; but I produce no effect in so.
ciety ; nobody is more than polite or civil to me; my advice
was never asked but mice, and then not at all with a view of
being taken, and, as for " high Lords and mighty Earls,"
they. turn up their noses and eye-brows at me, as if I were a
Paria. Yet, somehow or another, this continual success of the
odd little Baronet, is, during the perusal of his Memoir, not 1,
felt to be unnatural. A sort of glamour seems thrown over
all whom he associates with, the influence of which extends to
the reader himself; the " wee reekit de'il" is a fascinating
imp, and owes great part of his power to the eery peculiarities
that make him a marked and diverting man wherever he shews
himself. I suspect there is great genuis shown in the concep-
tion of such a character, and considerable skill too in the exe-
cution ; although the author is completely run away with on
occasions by this odd creature of his own fancy.
" But what shall I say of the Provost ? It reads so easily
and naturally, that I felt as if I were composing it as I went
along. But unfortunately that was not thd case. It is not in
the least like a printed book. I think I see Mr. Pawkieht own
manuscript written in the same plain distinct business hand,
with i's duly dotted, and is strongly crossed, that made his
ledgers of such constant and easy reference. His whole cha-
racter lies in his very name, and, under the genial light of the
author's most original genius, it expands gradually before us,
till at last, in full blow and blaze, it shines forth in expanded
prorostry, like the great, bread, and blowzy Peony Rose
among the cabbages in the neat kail-yard behind his own
Mansion-House. There is far more truth and nature, and
moral philosophy, and metaphysics and politics, and political
economy, in this little volume, than in all Dugald Stewart and
the Scotsman. Provost Pawkie is not a perfect character, al.
though a good, loyal Tory. He is so base and corrupted as to
be occasionally influenced by motives of self-interest, more
especially when they coincide with a regard to the public good.
Long may our burroughs have such bathes and such provosts
as the late esteemed Mr. Pawkie, say I ; and I hope that
Lord A. Hamilton will read this instructive little volume be-
fore he again opens Isle mouth in Parliament. Once more,
then-.many, many thanks, my dear Sir, for the Provost—it
is short, cheap, and good ; and I em not in the least surprised
at what you tell me, that you have sold an edition of two
thousand in a fortnight, and that another equally large im-
pression is melting away " like anew aft a dyke." Mr. Galt
is indeed fine fellow, and has shewn a vein that seems
brighter, richer, and deeper, the farther he drives the shaft.
I hope he will keep moving, for there is nothing so bad for
the health of a popular writer as standing still, with hie hands
behind his back, or counting his fingers."

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