THE HIGHLAND SMUGGLERS.

MR. FRAZER will add nothing to his fame by the Highland' Smugglers. He was much more at home on Persian ground than he is in his native land of Scotland. Where is the stirring interest of the Kuzzilbash—the glory of the far chappow, the wild adventure, the strongly-marked character, and the humour, the variety, and richness of its thousand and one scenes of Oriental life? Nothing of them is to be found in the Highland Smugglers. The incidents here are all, if not of the most hackneyed descrip- tion, at least so far from being new, that there is not one that could not be traced to an original in the writings of Sir WALTER Scow or GALT, or else in the Irish novels of Mr. BAlvist and others. In character, too, the work is equally poor : there is not a sin& individual who stands forward in bold relief, or who is painted with colours to make an impression on the memory. The favour- ite character—an old Highland nurse, a sort of Elspeth of tBe Craigburnfoot, who foresees every event that is about to happen, and who is perpetually upon the scene, placed upon her tripod, shrieking, groaning, and lamenting—is a most complete failure; unless, indeed, the writer's object was to disgust all future novel- ists with prophetic old women—who have been so hurried and worried by the Scotch romancers, since Sir WALTER Scorr set them on the game, that we shall owe something at least to Mr. FRAZER if he procures their repose at last. The Highland Smugglers should rather be called "Highland Sports ;" for the smugglers are introduced solely to satisfy the young ladies with a little fighting, confusion, and love-making. The real business of the book is to describe the picture,que beau- ties of a portion of the Western Highlands, and the sports followed in their recesses. This design we approve, and the execution is praiseworthy; but the effect of many very fine chapters—those on Deer-stalking, for instance—is partly destroyed by the neeessitfof keeping up the clumsy machinery of a. feeble and dragging story. The smugglers themselves, luckily, are only introduced late in the work; and after entrapping a gentleman in a whisky-bothy, and running away with a young lady, are soon dismissed from the scene.

The portions which we admire, and which, as we have said, consist chiefly of description, are on too minute a scale to supply an extract altogether to our liking; but still, we would not dis- miss the work of so able a writer without permitting our readers to judge in some measure for themselves. The following is an incident in a day's deer-stalking. Tresham is a young English- man, on a visit to Glenvallich, a highland laird of considerable wealth; the attendant, Duncan Maccombich, is the keeper, a principal personage of the novel, and the best-drawn character of the whole work.

Instead of abruptly ascending further, they now slanted along the face of the bill till they reached the watercourse; a deep gash, worn by a rapid awl perennial torrent, quite through the soil into the living rock of the mountaiu side. The rugged banks were covered with dense thickets of the trees common to such situations, which overhung the stream, or interrupted its course with their fallen and withered boughs. The torrent itself, dark, foaming, and im- petuous, leapt from rock to rock, and ledge to ledge, in many a petty fall, and sometimes in cascades of considerable height and grandeur. The pass led by a pool between two of these falls ; a deeply furrowed ledge of rock afforded stepping- stones, when the stream was low, by which an active man might spring across. Having overleapt this obstacle, they soon emerged from the wood upon the more open ball, where the heather, although still long and thick, was less tangled than in the forest ; and the more solid and less broken ground afforded firmer footing. The dotage was very comfortable to Tresham, who now soon reco- vered his „failing wind, and felt his sinews recover a firmer tone; and they cau- tiously approached the crest of the height to which they had won their way with so much toil.

Glenvallich now stealing forwards, began with curious and jealous eye to scan through his glass the broad hollow which rose gradually above then,. After continuing this survey for some minutes in silence, he beckoned Tresham to his side.

"Antlers, by Jove! " said be, in a half whisper ; "I have them, and in no bad place neither ; this will be our game, or I'm mistaken. See—take the glass ; look to the left of that white stump below the rock there, close to a small single white stone. There he lies—I can see him with the naked eye." "And I can't catch him even with the glass," replied Tresham, after peering for some time through the telescope ; "I see nothing, Charles." "What, don't you see that brown spot? You can't have found the place. By heavens, there's more of them : give me the glass ;—yes, faith, there are—one, two three hinds feeding ; and their calves, too—see, look again." But it was in vain that Tresham's unpractised eye wandered over the brown waste, until, as by chance the field of the telescope traversed the place, a slight movement in what he had taken for the withered branch of some decayed tree caught his eye. " Ah ! I have him now, by Jove ! God bless sue; what a grand fellow ! How beautiful he looks !—and he's lying too—and there are the hinds—I see them also but how shall we get at him'?"

" Why, cost us a scramble and agood blow, no doubt. Perhaps we may have to climb the shoulder of Scoore-vialach, and round by his top, that high peak yonder."

"The devil! that will be a job—but never mind ; sy thing tvr a shot at that noble fellow."

" Well, he and his ladies are quiet where they are, for the day ; and the men :must by this time have got to their.posts ; let us go and attend the passes. You ee- that black- stump on the brow below us ; take your station there—it com- emends the whole face below, within rifle shot. I will go nearer the burn. If .1you see any thing pass, that makes rather for me than for you, put your cap on the muzzle of your rifle thus—I will do the same. Good luck to you, and .11aOld straight.' "

The loss of half an hour, and some trial of patience, was the sole result of this • arrangement. One or two roes passed the sportsmen, and several black cock, the sight of which tempted Tresham sorely to exercise his skill at a flying shot ; but if there were any deer in the wood, they took other passes than those watched by the two gentlemen.

The forester now came up, and Glenvallich informed him of the stag and hinds he had seen. The methods of best approaching them unobserved-were

eagerly discussed ; and having decided i

that t was at all events advisable to reconnoitre them from a shoulder of the hill above them, the party set their faces boldly to the brae, and began to breast it straight up. And now once more was Tresham made sensible of his own deficiency, and of- the superior vigour of his companions: pride and "pluck," however, bore him on, though his knees bent under him, and his head swam, with the sustained exertion. The signal to halt and reconnoitre was at the moment as gratifying an intimation as he could have received. Five hinds with their calves, and two stags, were now distinctly visible, full eight hundred feet beneath them, as they stood, or rather lay perched upon the brink of a giddy precipice which rose above the hollow.

". Well, Maccombich, what's next to be done? Must we climb the hill, and go round the scour ?"

" Ay, 'deed that ye mast," responded the forester. "See," continued he, throwing some light particles of grass into the air, "the wun's a' up the hill, and there's no a burn or corry that'll bide us. It's doon yon burn, below Crctij-eailliehdhu, we must go, and tak' the hollow a' the way to thou bit hillock; and then we'll get at them easy : they wunna stir the day any how— We're sure o' that."

As Duncan made these observations' he was cautiously retreating from the brink of the rock, front whence he had been observing the deer ; when all at once his person became fixed in an attitude of eager attention, which might have supplied the sculptor with an admirable study ; and straining his eyes towards the upper extremity of the corry, he exclaimed, in an earnest whisper, " 0 Glenvallich ! we're in luck the day ! there he is! there's the very staig your honour was after the last time ye cam' up ; him that ye touched on the side, an' we could na get sight o' again ! I've seen him twice since yon and a grand one be is. 0 Trocheonuilorst ! " but we'll have you the day, or the mischief's in't; we most go clean round the scour noo, any how, for we'll lute to come dawn the Glazg-na-gawrt on him."

This information set the party into instant motion. Off they started in high spirits, leaving Kenneth to watch the deer below them, lest any accident should startle them, or lest they Should feed away from the spot. The ascent proved most arduous; for they had to pass round the peak of one of the loftiest moun- tains in Scotland, at a height scarcely two hundred feet below the summit. Tresham was once more forced to abandon his rifle to the gillie, and still he found himself laggeing behind; for Maccombich, stimulated by a sight of the • animals he loved, forgot the inability of others, and glided up the hill with the swiftness and sure-footedness of a goat.. Even Glenvallich at length found it expedient to call upon him to slacken his speed ; and Tresham, breathless and

• Literally, "Bad advice to you;" a Gaelic malediction. f The goat's dell.

reeling, was absolutely forced to make frequent halts. Youthand spirits, and good English bottom themselves, failed at length, and the young man came to a stand still.

" You were right," said he, " about this cursed jacket, it is too heavy for such work. By the Lord, man a fellow, to climb this mountain, should go he enerpo : the kilt's your only—to this devil with the velveteen! and he threw it from him, remaining in his shirt-sleeves and waistcoat. " Stay, stay, Harry ! those white arms will never do ; they would' give the alarm at two miles distance : here, here's the jacket you despised, in the morning."

" Thank you,—this is a relief: and now have at it once more."

The highest point was reached at length, and a descent, little better than a precipice, lay before them. But though Tresham, in cooler moments, might have shuddered. at the danger he ran, his mind was at this time too highly ex- cited to scruple at following his daring companions, who bounded downwards at a rate which soon carried them to the bottom.

" Now for it, Harry; 110W for it in earnest," said Glenvallich, after a-mo- ment's halt, to recover breath. " Double quick, while we may—we shall soma have to go slow enough ;" and entering the body of a shallow watercourse, they descended its rough bed at a rapid pace. The waft of a hand from Duncan, who led, stopped the party ; and, crouching low, they changed their quick step. for a stealthy pace, with which they rounded a height, and under its shelter re- mained, until their exact position with regard to the object of their quest should be ascertained.

" Look here," whispered Glenvallich, taking Tresham by the arm, aftee having made a short examination himself, " what think you of Duncan for a pilot ?"

Raising his eyes to a level with the heather top, Tresham could see, at the distance of not more than three hundred yards the horns of a noble stag just rising between two hags. No other part of the animal was visible ; but the movemeut of the antlers, which slowly turned from side to side, proved stif- ficiently that he maintained a vigilant look-out after his own safety.

" We'll match him yet, I think," said Glenvallich. Retreating a few yards, to get further under cover of the rising ground, Maccombich, followed by the rest of the party, crept on all fours from the water- course, across thirty or forty yards of long leather-covered ruuir, until they readied a maze of peat-bog cracks, of little depth, but sufficient to cover a mau creeping flat upon his belly. This, although the moss was moist and muddy, they were forced to submit to, as the only way of crossing unseen by their In- tended victim ; and in this manner they gained about a hundred and fifty yards more upon the deer's position. The forester, alone, was now sent on to ascertain the means of further pro- gress : and after an absence of inure than ten minutes, which to the sportsmen seemed a full hour, he returned creeping like a worm, and beckoning the party to follow in the same manner. This they did, and at length, keeping along the peat-cracks, got a chasm deep enough to afford sufficient cover for the whole Je's no a bonder' yards from you this moment, Glenvallich," whispered the forester, in scarcely audible accents, " and the wind is strong from him. Ye most climb this know ; if you can get him within eighty yards, dinna seek to get

nearer, for hholds, lie's in a wide green hol and h lie's very jealous. I dinna think ye'll mak' mudde better o it ; but ochone! sir, tale' time and be canny—I wudna for ten mind he got awe !"

" Never fear me, man ; but here's Mr. Tresham must take the first chance—. I'll fire only if he misses. Come along, Harry." The forester cast a look of mingled disappointment and remonstrance at his master, but it was disregarded. Tresham also,. who still shook from head to foot with recent exertion and present excitement, would have excused himself from interfering with the anterior rights of his friend in this particular animal;

but Glenvaflich would not listen to him. • . . "Have done with this debating," said he; "We shall lose the deer—follow me, T resh al n " Cautiously, •like a cat stealing on its prey, foot by foot, and inch by inch, did Glenvallich, grovelling in the heather, advance towards the crest of time knoll in front of him ; when the deer's antlers moved, he was still,—when they teak their natural position, he moved forwards. Tresham followed in his track, stopping or advancing as he did, until they had reached some twenty paces on- wards from the ravine. Glenvallich theme signed to him to raise his head with caution. He did so, and saw, with a sensation of eager delight which increased. his agitation to a painful pitch, the noble stag lying arming some rushy grass, apparently in the most unsuspicious tranquillity, occasionally scratching a part of his hide with a fork of his antlers, and driving away the insects which ap- peared grievously to torment him. " Take him as he lies, Harry ; aim low, at the shoulder," whispered Glen- vallich. The heart of Tresham beat more audibly than ever it had done on go- ing into action, as he carefully extended and levelled his rifle. Whether it was the slight click of cocking, or some movement made in the heather, as he stretched out the piece to take aim, is uncertain ; but the stag started, and made a movement as if about to rise, just at the moment when Tresham was pressing the trigger. The circumstance, probably, unsettled his aim, for the rifle ex- ploded, but the ball flew over its intended object.

But not thus was the unfortunate animal to escape ; for scarce had time report of Tresham's shot made him start from the lair, when the rifle of Glenvallich gave forth its fatal contents, and the stag, making one high bound from the earth, tumbled headlong forwards, and lay struggling in the agonies of death. He had. anticipated the possibility of his friend's failure, and prepared to remedy ft—, which he did effectually, for the ball had struck the animal just behind the shoulder, and went clean through its heart.

To this we will add one smaller specimen of a general descrip- tion of Highland life, which is pleasing— Far be it from us, however, to insinuate that "life in the Highlands," though for the most part calm and mivaried, is therefore of necessity either te- dious Or dull. To those who have a relish for rural pursuits and amusements, there is no country which affords them in greater diversity or perfection. There is something peculiarly exhilarating and elating in the haterminable extent and. wild picturesque variety of a large Highland property, which must be unknown to the majority of our Southern neighbours. Its noble mountains and green valleys—the mysteries of its deep glens and dark weeds—the fantastic forms of its rocks and precipices—its rapid torrents and majestic rivers—its bright silver lakes gleaming in the sun, or its dusky tarns, whose black water reflects back only the shaggy heath and rugged cliffs which hem them in—its rich cultiva- tion and beautiful farms embosomed in woods of weeping birch ; even its strange- looking toons and assemblages of black huts, scattered on the brae-face, or river's bank, amidst a profusion of "bonnie broom," rich scented. whiles (furze), bramble and dog-rose bushes, potato patches, and crofts of black oats —all are so many points of interest to a proprietor—so many objects.. of regard, and motives to the exertion of an improving spirit, which may vie, even with the polished beauty, the rich exuberant verdure, and more perfect culture of "merry England." And when a Highland laird wanders, staff. in hand, the livelong day among his thriving plantations, views his improving farms, or tra- verses the wide bounds of his grazings—when, with his gun over his shoulder, he strides- over a dozen miles of good- grousing hill, or summons-out a scornof gillien to heat the side of a glen, and together with his frietulsr retina

leaded *with woodeindc, and blackcock, and hares, and roebucks—ay, and some- times with a gallant stag, ora fat "yell hind," across the back of a pony, we think he may be held excused if he feels a pride and exultation equal to that of the English lord or squire who can count treble his rent on a tithe of the sur- face, and who, from a cover of a score of acres, will drive out to slaughter some hundred head of pheasants as tame as barn-door fowls, or of hares and rabbits that scarce dream of getting out of the sportsman's way.