SCHLOSS HAINFELD.

THIS is a very singular, entertaining, and interesting volume. It contains an account of the residence of the author and his family for several months at the castle of the Countess Pt:MG-. STALL, in the Austrian province of Lower Styria. This would not seem a very promising subject ; but Styria is still, in a great measure, a terra incognita-one of the few regions in Europe hitherto unexplored by travelling bookmakers; and the Countess PURGSTALL was no ordinary person. This lady was a Scotchwoman, who, forty years ago, had mar- ried an Austrian nobleman, and had ever since resided in that country. She was of the noble family of CRANSTOUN, and in her younger days was closely acquainted with what Captain HALL calls " the aristocracy of talent," witch flourished in Edinburgh half a century ago; an advantage which she owed in the first place to the marriage of her sister to DUGALD STEWART, and also to her own abilities and attainments. She enjoyed the intimate friendship of WALTER SCOTT; was one of the first to discover the greatness of his genius, and to encourage its very earliest efforts; and, according to Captain HALL, was the original from which he drew the character of Diana Vernon in Rob Roy. The late Sir JAMES HALL had been, of course, in the circle of her literary friends; and hearing that his son was travelling on the Continent,

she invited him in the most pressing manner to pay her a visit. He complied accordingly, aid arrived at the castle of Schloss Hainfeld in the autumn of 1834. •

Captain HALL'S account of the impressions produced on him by the sight of this mansion and its mistress is striking. The Countess had in the course of her life met with many misfortunes. During the war waged by NAPOLEON against Austria, her hus- band was taken prisoner, under circumstances so peculiarly dis- tressing that his health gave way, and he died ; leasing a son, au only child, who survived him but a few years. The widow was harassed with innumerable lawsuits, and had great difficulty in establishing her right to that portion of the property which had been settled upon her. With all her fortitude, which was extra- ordinary, she seems to have been almost subdued, and would pro- bably have sunk under the weight of poverty and law proceedings, but for the generous assistance of her relative the late Lord ASHBURTON.

She was now (says Captain Hatt) by these successive bereavements left quite alone in a foreign land ; and, having lost every being who was dear to her, she appears to have had scarcely any other object whilst she remained in the world but to cherish the remembrance of those who were Gone,—to feed her grief, in short, rather than overcome it. In this spirit, accordingly, she per- mitted nothing to be changed in the castle. Every article of furniture stood exactly in its old place ; not a walk amongst the grounds was altered, not a Nee cut down, not a book shifted in the library. So that the castle of Hainfeld and all its old inmates, all its old usages, maatt on, or rather went not on, but re- mained as if arrested by the frost of its mistress's grief, in the very position they occupied at the period of that list and crowning disaster, her sou's death, which obliterated the house of Purgstall.

When Captain HALL arrived at Hainfeld, this poor lady had long been a martyr to a complication of painful diseases ; but the original strength of her intellect and the vivacity and kindliness of her disposition were unimpaired. The following sketch sets her before us graphically, like an old acquaintance.

I should have mentioned, that at the time we first saw the Countess, she had been confined to bed three whole years—to the very bell on which her sou had expired seventeen yeals before; and from which, as she said with too much appearance of truth, she herself could never hope to rise again. Fortunately, her complaints had not attacked her eyes nor het hands, so that she could both read and write. Neither was she in the least deaf ; and her power:: of speech were perfect,—that is to say, her articulation was perfioct, for as to her language, it was made up of a strange confusion of tongues. The most obvious and pre- dominant of all was good honest Scotch, or rather classical English with a strong Scotch accent. Along with this was mixed a certain portion of Ger- man, chiefly in idiom, but often in actual words ; so that we were at first occa- sionally puzzled to know what the good old lady would be at. Her French was a singular compound of all these dialects. But in whatever language she spoke, her ideas were always so dear and so well-arranged, and her choice of words, however mispronounced, so accurate, that after we had learned the cause of the seeming contusion, we never failed to understand her. What surprised us most, on first making the Countess Purgstall's acquain- ance, was her wonderful cheerfulness. As this was evidently inherent and not the result of effort, and was constantly sustained, it imparted by reflection to all of us, young and old, a spirit of vivacity which invariably accompanied us while we remained in her room, and made those periods of the day which we passed by her bedside by far the most agreeable of the twenty-four hours. Her conversation, like her spirits, never flagged ; it ranged all over the world, and dealt with every possible topic under heaven. She had mixed in the society of some of the first men of the day, not only at home but abroad ; and, as she possessed a memory of uncommon tenacity, she could relate anecdotes by the dozen of almost anybody one had ever hem! of, from Bonaparte and the 'Ern- peror Alexander, to the peasants of her own estate, who had campaigned under them or fought against them. Or she would relate stories of Sir Walter Scott's first essays in literature, tell about Schiller and Coethe, or describe Haydn and Mozart's playing on the pianoforte. But it was not on such stirring themes alone that she was amusing and instructive ; every thing she touched, however trivial or uninteresting in other hands, derived an agreeable point and useful purpose from her manner of handling it. Nut her great friend Sir Walter had a more ample store of anecdotes ; and these never came in awkwardly, but always so appropriately, that you might have thought sometimes they were made for the sole purpose of illustrating the subject under discussion. Yet, in spite of this boundless fertility, her conversation was merely sprinkled with anecdotes, not overloaded with ;hem, " like an over-plummed plum-pudding," es was remarked of a fatuous story-teller. She had no particular wish to talk, however; for she delighted in nothing more than in hearing the opinions of others; and she possessed the rare merit of showing, in all she said, that she was speaking for the sake of the subject, and for that of the peraon she was addressing, rather than for the sake of advancing any notions ot' her own. Nor was there ever the least show of heat or impatience in her discourse, except when she was defending sonic friend or expressing her contempt of some un- worthy personage, or questionable conduct which she thought it right to ex- pose.

In the course of this narrative I shall hive occasion to describe more parti- cularly the nature of the intercourse which gradually established itself between this extraordinary old lady and the various members of my family; for she en- gaged almost all our time and attention, and won the warm affections of the whole party, from our grave selves down to my little boy, only a year old, who, with his Scotch maid, used to pass many hours of every day in her room.

Captain•HALL and his family continued month after month the Countess's guests, repeatedly intending to pursue their journey, and as often diverted from their purpose by her earnest entreaties that they should not leave her. She was daily sinking ; and the society of a family so nearly connected with all that had been dear to her in her own country and in her early days, had evidently be- come so essential to her comfort, that her guests were prompted by humanity as well as affection to remain with her, contributing to her enjoyments, and finally soothing her dying hours. She died in March 1835; and Captain HALL did not take his departure till he had assisted in paying the last honours to her memory. She had for some time been firmly possessed by the presentiment that she should die on the 22d of March. " My husband," she said. "expired on that day, four-and-twenty years ago; and on that day, I think I may safely say to you, that I shall die !"

She appeared, after this, to be improving in health,and continued to be almost as cheerful as formerly : but, on the 20th, she sud- denly became worse, and expired on the 23d, within twenty-four hours of the time she herself had fixed.

Everybody has felt the peculiar happiness of Captain HALL'S style in his books of' travels. It has all the ease and freshness, without the carelessness, of familiar conversation or letter-writing; and the author's constant good-nature and kind feeling are ex- ceedingly engaging. An overflowing frankness and openness of temper makes hint something of an egotist : but, in this book, the sayings and doings of himself, his wife, his girls, and his little buy, are absolutely part and parcel of his subject ; and, however trifling any circumstance may be in itself, they all contribute to the completeness and truth of a most pleasing and singular do- mestic picture. The concluding chapter contains some curious particulars re- specting Sir WALTER Scorr—especially an " affair of the heart" in his early youth. Unfortunately, the lady to whom he was attached discouraged his suit, or, at all events, her family did; and in his distress he naturally made Miss Cran- stoun his confidant, and he found in her both sympathy and assistance. Her coveration on this occasion, it is true, led eventually to nothing, so far as the immediate object aimed at was concerned ; but it furnished, accidentally, an interesting, and perhaps an important incident in the literary history of the humble youth, alio, while his generous friend shortly afterivards banished her- self, anti was lust sight of, speedily rose to be the legitimate monarch of modern literature.

About the year rial, Burger's extraordinary poem of Leonora found its way to Scotland ; and it happened that a translation of it teas read at llugald Stewart's, I think by Mrs. Barbauld. Miss Cranstotm described this stran,ge work to her : the young poet, whose imagination was set on fire by the strange crowd of wild images and novel situations in this singular production, never rested till, by the help of a grammar and dictionary, he contrived to study it in the original ; and she, as usual, encouraged him to persevere ; and at the end of a few weeks' application to the German language, he had made out the sense, and hail himself written a poetical translation of that poem. Olie morning, at half past six, Miss Craustoun was roused by her maid, who said 31r. Scott was in the dining-room, and wished to speak with her imme- diately. She dressed in a great hurry, and hastened down stairs, wondering what lie could have to say to her at that early hour. He met her at the door, and holding up his tnamiscript, eagerly begged her to listen to his poem. Of course she gave it all attention ; and, having duly praised it, she sent hint away quite happy, after begging permission to retain the poem for a day or two, in order to look it over more carefully. Ile said site might keep it till he returned from the country, where he was about to proceed on a visit, to the house where the holy to whom lie was attached was residing. His friendly critic was already aware of this intended visit ; and an idea having suggested itself to her during his animated perusal of the poem, she lost no time in putting, it in execution. As soon as he was gone, she sent for their common fliers!, Mr. William Erskine, afterwards Lord Kinneder, and confided her scheme to hint, of which he fully approved. The confederates then sallied forth to put their plau-in train ; and having repaired to Mr. Robert Miller, the bookseller, they scan arranged with him to print a few copies of the new trans-. cation of Lener,', one of which was to be thrown off on the finest paper and bound in the most elegant style. In a few days the book was ready ; and care being taken to despatch it, ad- dressed to Mr. Scott, so that it should arrive at what was deemed the most propitious moment, it was placed in the poet's bawls just as the company were assembled round the tea-table after' dinner.

Much curiosity was expressed by the party—the fair lady inclusive—as the splendid little volume gradually escaped from its folds and displayed itself to the astonished eyes of the author ; who for the first time saw himself in print; atol who, all unconscious of the glories which awaited him, had possibly never dreamed of appearieg in such a dress. Cancealment was out of the question; and he was called upon by the unani- mous acclamation of the party to lead the poem, of which, as it happened, none of them had ever heard even the name.

Those who have enjoyed the surpassing delight of hearing Sir Walter Scott read poetry, will easily understand the effect evhich this recitation of his own earliest printed work, under the excitement of such a moment, must have pro- dused. Indeed, the only matter of astonishment is, how any simple maiden's heart could have resisted this first wave of the great magician's wand, destined so soon to enchant all mankind ! But so it was; and the only lasting effect of this little plot was to increase the intimacy between the young author and his friendly critic.

Captain HALL concludes that the Countess PUROSTALL was the original of Diana Vernon, from three circumstances,—first, " from the accounts she gave of her own independence of charac- ter and cor.duct, and the peculiarity of her ways, especially of her being always on horseback, and always speaking her mind;' secondly, from Rob Roy being the only one of Sir WALTER'S novels which he had not sent tier; and thirdly, from her total silence respecting the character of Diana Vernon, though she was particularly delighted with the novel. These things, we think, do not amount to much. Frankness and openness of spirit, and a love of equestrian exercise, are no very remarkable features in the character of a young lady; a thousand accidental reasons may have prevented the Countess from receiving Rob Roy; and the character of Diana Vernon, though a spirited sketch, is but a slight one, and forms by no means a prominent feature in a work full of striking scenes and characters. The Countess carried on a constant correspondence with Sir WALTER SCOTT; but all the letters site received from him were lost. The only one which has been preserved was written by Scorr in 1820, but, by some accident, not sent off. Mr. LOCK- HART found it among Sir WALTER'S papers; and, learning by a letter from Captain HALL that she had never received it, trans- mitted it to her. Unfortunately she did not live to receive it; but Captain HALL has printed it from the copy kopt by Mr. LOCK- HART. It is beautiful, and characteristic of the author: and no one who thinks on the days of disaster and gloom which ter- minated that great man's mortal career, can read without emotion the almost prophetic sentences- which form its conclusion- " My health suffered horridly last year, I think from over-labour and excites* lion; awl though it is now apearently restored to its usual tone, yet, dus log the

long and painful disorder (spasms in the stomach), and the frightful process of cure, by a prolonged use of calomel, I learned that my frame was made of flesh, and not of iron ; a conviction which I will long keep in remembrance, and avoid any occupation so laborious and agitating as poetry must be, to be worth any thing.

" In this humour, I often think of passing a few weeks on the Continent—a summer vacation, if I can; and of course my attraction to Gratz would be very strong. I fear this is the rally chance of our meeting in this world,—we, who once saw each other daily ! for I understand from George and Henry that there is little chance of your coming here. And when I look around tne, and con- sider how many changes you will see in feature, form, and fashion, amongst all you knew and loved ; and how much—no sudden squall, or violent tempest, but the slow and gradual progress of life's long voyage—has severed all the gallant fellowships whom you left spreading their sails to the morning breeze, I really am not sure that you would have much pleasure.

" The gay and wild romance of life is over with all of us. The real, dull, and stern history of humanity has made a far greater progress over our beads; and age, dark and unlovely, has laid his crutch over the stoutest fellow's shoulders. One thing your old society may boast, that they have all run their course with honour, and almost all with distinction ; and the brother suppers of Frederick Street have certainly made a very considerable figure in the world,— as was to be expected, from her talents under whose auspices they were as- sembled.

" One of the most pleasant sights which you would see in Scotland as it now stands, would be your brother George in passession of the most beau. tiful and romantic place in Clydesdale—Corehouse. I have promised often to go out with him, and assist him with my deep experience as a planter and landscape gardener. I promise you my [elks will outlast my laurels ; and I pique myself Inure upon toy compositions for manure than on any other cont. positions whatsoever to which I was ever accessory. But so much does business of one sort or other engage its both, that we never have been able to fix a time which suited us both ; and, with the utmost wish to make out the party, per- haps we never may.

" This is a melancholy latter, but it is chiefly so front the sad tone of your?, who have had such real disasters to lament ; while mine is only the humorous sadness which a retrospect on human life is sure to produce on the most pros- perous. For my own course of life, I have only to he aahamed of its pruspe- ity and afraid of its termination; for I have little reason, arguing on the doctrine of chances, to hope that the same good fortune will attend me for ever. I have had an affectionate and promising Lindy, many friends, few tuft holds; and I think, nu enemies ; and wore of fame and fortune than lucre literature ever procured for a man befure. "I dwell among my own people, and have many whose happiness is dependent on me, and which-1 study to the best of my power. I trust my temper, which you know is by nature good and easy, has not been spoiled by flattery or prospe- rity ; and therefore I have escaped entirely that irritability of disposition which I think is planted, like the slave in the poet's char iut, to prevent his enjoying Lis triumph. " Should things, therefore, change with ores—and in these times, or indeed in any times, such change is to be apprehended,— I trust I shall be able to surrender these adventitious advantages as I would my upper dress, as starlet Ling extremely comfortable, but which I can make shift to du without."