of Auld Reekie-so that season after season, the tree of the cadies, like that of Virgil, might be said,

"Mirari novas frondes et non sua poma.”

However produced and sustained-whatever might be the beauties or the blemishes of their pedigree-this race continued for many generations, to perform with the same zeal and success the same large variety of good offices to the citizens of Edinburgh. The cadie preserved amidst all his functions not a little of the air and aspect natural to him in his own paternal wildernesses:

"A savage wildness round him hung,

As of a dweller out of doors;

In his whole figure and his mien

A savage character was seen,

Of mountains and of dreary moors,"

He climbed staircases with the same light and elastic spring which had been wont to carry him unfatigued to the brow of Cairngorm or BenNevis; and he executed the commands of his employer pro tempore, whatever they might be, in the same spirit of unquestioning submission and thorough-going zeal, with which he had been taught from his infancy to obey the orders of Maccallamore, Glengarry, Gordon, Grant, or whoso

ever the chieftain of his clan might be. In order to qualify him for the exercise of this laborious profession, it was necessary that the apprenticecadie should make himself minutely familiar with every stair-case, every house, every family, and every individual in the city, and to one who had laid in this way a sound and accurate foundation of information, it could be no difficult matter to keep on a level with the slight flood of mutation, which the city and its population was at that period accustomed to. The moment a stranger arrived in Edinburgh, his face was sure to attract the observation of some of this indefatigable tribe, and they knew no rest till they had ascertained his name, residence, and condition-considering it, indeed, as a sort of insult upon their body, that any man should presume to live within the bounds of their jurisdiction, and yet remain unpenetrated by the perspicacity of their unwearied espionage. But why should I say any more of this race ?—They are now gathered to their fathers; and their deeds, are they not written in the Book of the Expedition of Humphrey Clinker?

Although, however, the original and regular fraternity no longer exists, and although, indeed, the change which has taken place, both in

the residence and in the manners of the inhabitants, has removed almost all shadow of pretence for the existence of any such fraternity-Edinburgh is still possessed of a species of men who retain the name, and, in so far as the times permit, the functions of the cadies. At the corner of every street is usually to be seen a knot of these fellows lounging on a wooden bench in expectation of employment. They are very busy in the evenings during the gay season of the year; for they are exclusively the bearers of the chairs which convey the beaux and belles from one rout and ball to another; but even at that season, their mornings, for the most part, are passed in a state of complete inaction. A pack of sorely blackened cards, or an old rotten backgammon board, furnishes a small proportion with something like occupation; but the greater part are contented with an indefatigable dili gence in the use of tobacco, which they seem to consume indifferently in all its shapes,-smoking, chewing, and snuffing, with apparently the same intensity of satisfaction. Whenever I pass one of these groupes, my ears are saluted with accents, which the persons I usually walk with talk of as coarse and disgusting, but which are interesting at least, if not delightful, to me, be

cause they remind me most strongly of those of our own native dialect. At first, indeed, the only resemblance I was sensible to, lay in the general music and rythm of their speech; but, by dint of listening attentively on all occasions, I soon began to pick up a few of their words, and am now able, I flatter myself, to understand a great part of their discourse. With a few varieties in the inflections, and some more striking variations in the vowel sounds, the Gaelic is evidently the same language with our own. I do not mean merely, that it is sprung remotely from the same Celtic stem; but that it is entirely of the same structure in all essential respects, and bears, so far as I can judge, a much nearer resemblance to our tongue, than is any where else to be traced between the languages of peoples that have lived so long asunder. I shall pay particular attention to this subject during my stay in Scotland, and doubt not I shall be able to give you some very interesting details when we meet. In the mean time, I have already begun to read a little of the Gaelic Ossian, not you may believe out of any reverence for its authenticity, but with a view to see what the written Gaelic is. Nothing can be more evi

VOL. I.

dent than its total inferiority to the Welsh. It is vastly inferior in perspicuity, and immeasurably inferior in melody; in short, it bears no marks of having undergone, as our language has done, the correcting, condensing, and polishing labour of a set of great poets and historians. These defects are still more apparent in a collection of Gaelic songs which I have seen, and which I believe to be really antique. The wild and empassioned tone of sentiment, however, and the cold melancholy imagery of these compositions, render them well worthy of being translated; and, indeed, Walter Scott has already done this service for some of the best of them. But I have seen nothing that should entitle them to share in anything like the high and devout admiration which we justly give, and which all Europe would give, had they the opportunity, to the sublime and pathetic masterpieces of our own great bards. I trust, David, you are not neglecting your truly grand and important undertaking. Go on, and prosper; and I doubt not, you will confer the highest honour both on your country and yourself.

* This refers to a great work on Welsh Poetry and History, in which Mr Williams has been engaged for some years, and