5 DECEMBER 1874, Page 15

THE MAT]) OF KILLEENA.*

IT is not every one, unhappily, that knows the sensation of peaceful but inexpressible joy that pervades the country-bred man, when for a time he returns in the summer from the city of his abode to the home of his childhood where his own people still dwell, amongst the woods and hills, and within sound of the river. It was with something akin to this joy that we drew our chair closer to the fire as the weary work of the novel-critic gave place to the smile of satisfaction and pleasure, when, in the very first page of our book, we discovered that we had come again to those Western Isles in the quiet summer sea in the far North, and to those simple people amidst whose loving allegiance the Princess of Thule—Sheila, held her modest Court. We recall again the pictures, 'sketched with such subtle delicacy and in such rich variety in that beautiful story ; the islands looming gigantic through the mists, or faint and low and distant in the glowing haze, and the sea of deep blue, with white-crested wavelets in the summer breeze, or gleamy-grey at dawn, or cold and black, lighted by phosphorescent flashes of a steely blue, and canopied by the mysterious glow of a Northern summer midnight. And while yet fresh in our memory, we renew our ac- quaintance with the brave and hospitable islanders, earnest in work and profound in their enjoyments ; and we experience a childish exultation when we come to Sheila's own name, and find that the old postman knew her, and had not carried "any such fine book three the wan that Sheila Mackenzie sent all the way from BOTTS, bost to Mrs. M'Gregor's lad when he " wass ferry ill wi' the fever." Ailasa is the Maid of Killeena, and though only a suggestion of Sheila, she has the same unconscious simplicity, the same practical power, the same 'sweet and gentle, but independent nature. Here is her simple acknowledgment of her love :— • The Maid of Meow, and other Stories. By William Black. London : Macmillan. and Co.

" ' And this is what I will say to you, Alister Lewis,' she said, turn- ing round to confront him, and yet with her eyes cast down and her face pale, that if ever I marry any young man, it will be you yourself that I will marry, and no other one—that is what I hef said to myself. But I do not think I will ever marry you, Mister Lewis ; bekass when you hef money and you hef become a rich man, you will not think of a poor lass that wass living in Killeena; and that is what I expect, and I will not be angry with you when you will not marry a lass that will bring shame on you bekass she hass not got fine clothes and does not know the good English.'"

Earnestness and devotion are the characteristics of these grave islanders, not Immineled -with the fiercer passions, nor with the shrewd look-out for personal advantage ; but they are altogether simple, so that the story of them is fresh, and pure, and free from

• those things that we weary of in scenes of more conventional life, —the endless sarcasm, raillery, badinage, and slang of the ordinary novel ; the double meaning, the masked battery, the tireless effort to outwit. The pleasure which the untutored straightforwardness ,

of these dwellers in the Hebrides gives us makes us question for a moment the value and beauty of the courtesy, not always the offspring of true Christian charity, which in seeking to avoid giving pain, makes action complicated and difficult, and truth too often impossible ; and whether genuine friendliness and cor- diality would not flourish with greater luxuriance in an atmo- sphere of more simple directness of speech. There is nothing that hurts the sensitiveness of true charity in the plain-spokenness of these warm-hearted islanders. There are no complimentary meanderings, neither is there anything of the Mrs. Candour type, for instance, in Mrs. Macdonald, who is perfect in her quiet dignity, when, for example, with the utmost neighbourly friend- liness, she declines a proposal for her daughter Ailasa :—

" ' Take a glass of whisky, Duncan Lewis, and drink to our good health—I do not touch the whisky myself. As for our Ailasa, she will be married some day, I hope, for that is good and right for a lass, and I hope she will have an honest husband who knows how to keep off the drink like yourself, Duncan. But she is too young a lass to think bf taking a husband yet. If she waits five or six years, then it will be a good time to take a husband.'"

It is the same with the other actors in this touching little drama —with all their freedom of speech there is nothing that offends ; nothing of the spirit that finds in the English phrase "ill must speak plainly" a pretence for an ebullition of wrath, long sup- pressed in deference to so-called politenesa; or of that restrained bitterness which vents itself at last with the excuse that "true friend- ship does not admit of ceremony." Of all the scenes in the story, perhaps none is more touching than that in which unenvious ap- preciation and loving championship find expression during the • altercation of the fishermen brothers about the resolution of their youngest and fifth to leave the occupation of his ancestors, and seek his fortune in Glasgow ; he is not successful at fishing, and has angered his eldest brother :—

", He will go to the fishing with us no more—by Kett, ho will go with us no more.'—' You are right, Duncan Lewis, and it is a hard man you are,' the old mother said, beginning to cry. 'He will not go to the fish- ing with you, not any more, for the boy is going to Glasgow.'—' And a ferry good thing too and mirover,' said Duncan gloomily, 'he will be ferry much better in a counting-house than at an oar; and he will hef -his fiddle when he likes, and his stories, and his books. 'Tiss a ferry good thing that he will be going away to Glasgow.'—' By Kett,' exclaimed one of the other brothers with a sudden vehemence, 'if Alister Ise going for to go to Glasgow, it iss not with empty pockets that he will go to Glasgow 1'—' No, no!' cried the other brothers. We will gif the lad something to put in his pocket! By Kott, he will hef something to put in his pocket '1 mass thinking he will not get much money for the writing of verses of poetry—that is a ferry bad trade,' said Duncan Lewis, with some contempt.—' But this is what I say,' said Nicol Lewis, the third brother. with unnecessary warmth, I say there iss not any finer lad in the Western Isles as Alister Lewis, and it will surely be a shame, and a great shame, if we vase to let him fight his own way in a strange town. And this is what I say, that if effery penny of money that is in the bank of Stornoway will her to go, if effery farthing and penny will hef to go, Mister be will be at the col- lege, as sure as I am a living man, by Kett !'—And there and then the . three brothers settled it, Duncan being the only dissentient. When Mister came in to supper he was pale and silent.' . . . . . ' And where hef you been this day, Alister?' said Nicol Lewis. The lad bit his lip and was silent ; he did not wish to be laughed at..-' At Carn-Slean- that iss where he wass,' said Duncan Lewis looking dark.—'That iss true,' the lad said at last. 'I wass over at Lewis, wass to say good-bye. For I am going to Glasgow—it iss no use my being here any more.'—' That is a true word you hef spoken, Alister Lewis,' said his brother Nicol, in a kindly fashion ; 'and we are ferry glad you would think of going to Glasgow, bekass it is not many ham such skill o' read- ing and writing as yeti; and it wass Donald, and Hamisly and me, we wags sayin' there iss no great expense of the going to the college, and -we wass saying that the expense—well, we will tek the expense, and it iss no great thing that we will tek the expense. And if you get a place in Glasgow that will keep you in your meat and your clothes, that wass ferry well whatever ; but the college, it iss Donald, and Hamish, and me, we will pay for the college, and you will Bend us the letter, Alister, that will tell us all the news.' He rose abruptly from the table. Ho went to the small window—a single pane of glass let into the wall—

and stood there for a moment or two. Then he came back, and held out his hand to each of the three brothers in succession. 'It iss a ferry kind man you are, Nicol Lewis,' he said to the last of them, 'and a ferry good brother to me. And it iss not much of your money I will spend at the college ; and when I can I will pay you back your money ; but there iss more than the money that I thank you for this night, Nicol Lewis.'"

A sad tragedy arises out of the undisciplined passions of the black-haired Duncan, but all ends well, and we never felt so little inclined to smile at and criticise an extraordinary coincidence— one of those so much more common in fiction than in life"--as when Ailasa rises, as it were, from the dead, and arriving in Glasgow, appears in the modest shop of the glazier just as Alister is taking leave of that kind little man and his wife, before sailing- with his widowed heart to America.

"The Maid of Killeena" is the story of the book, and it is difficult to believe, when we have laid it aside for a few days, that we read it in the volume which contained the other three. These have the same freshness and purity, but the scenes and subjects are very different, and the aim altogether is much lower.. They are short, slight pieces, written about Surrey ladies and gentlemen for the Christmas numbers of London periodicals, and we humbly conceive that they should have been bound and issued separately from "The Maid of Killeena." Nevertheless, it would be difficult to find anything of the kind more lively, pleasant, and agreeable. They are entirely free from horrors and from the sensa- tional element supposed of late to be essential to a Christmas story. Nor do they deal in the pathetic ; there is nothing of the "pro- digal's return ' or houseless wanderer' stamp—a characteristic. of stories for this season of the year—which divides public favour with the ghostly and creepy style. They are merry, gossipy tales about a very attractive little lady, designated Queen Tita, and her husband and guests ; and it is strange, in coming upon them suddenly after taking leave of the Maid of Killeena, to note the contrast between the grave and earnest men and women of the distant, lonely Hebrides, and the quick-witted, polished, and lively denizens of the neighbourhood of the great metropolis. Warm hearts, however, are common to both, and so is the reluctance to yield the will to another. What strikes us parti- cularlyin these tales is the peculiar charm of description which invests the relation of husband and wife with a mutual grace,. courtesy, and love, perhaps enhanced by the occasional tendency- of the lady to indulge in a little coquettish pouting ; their happi- ness and confidence in each other reveal themselves as the little wife goes singing quietly about her household duties, and as they- banter each other with such loving good-humour.

The Surrey tales, as we will venture to call them, are arranged,. as it seems to us, in the inverse order of merit best—we do not mean bad, worse, worst—but best, better, good. We like the first the best, because it takes us to a certain Franziska, who possesses one of those unsophisticated and transparent natures that Mr. Black delights in and draws with such skill, and to the Black Forest and the picturesque inn, and to one of our author's vivid, and beautiful descriptions :-

"You forgot to be particular about the soup, the venison, and tile Affenthaler, when from the window at your elbow you could look across the narrow valley and behold a long stretch of the Black Forest shining- in the red glow of the sunset. The lower the sun sank the more intense- became the crimson light on the tall stems of the pines ; and then yott could see the line of shadow slowly rising up the side of the opposite- hill until only the topmost trees were touched with fire. Then these, too, lost it, and all the forest around us seemed to have a pale blue mist stealing over it as the night fell and the twilight faded out of the sky- overhead. Presently the long undulations of fir grew black, the stars can-te out, and the sound of the stream could be heard distantly in the- hollow ; and then, at Tita's wish, we went off for a last stroll in among the soft moss and under the darkness of the pines, now and again start- ling some groat capercailzie and sending it flying and whirring down the. glades."

The second story reveals a new vein in Mr. Black's composition,. a vein of broader fun than we expected ; mixed with the perfectly natural though ludicrous behaviour of the rival lovers, which- never trenches upon the domain of farce, we have some comical perplexity on the part of the host and hostess. But even in this tale our author's reverent devotion to nature asserts itself, and interspersed with the adventures of the luckless young gentleman are some slight but tempting little sketches of the scenery of the. Thames and its neighbourhood. "The True Legend of a Billiard Club" lets us down gently, so that we are quite tranquil at its close, and say good-night to Mr. Black with less reluctance than we had anticipated, conscious, however, that we shall not be satisfied till "The Maid of Killeena" rests upon our shelves.