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guishes the part of Mrs. Martha Trapbois, and between the vulgar gossipping of Mrs. Quickly
the inimitable scenes, though of a coarse and in the merry Wives of Windsor, and the
revolting complexion, with Duke Hildebrod atrocities of Mrs. Turner and Lady Suffolk;
and the miser of Alsatia. The Templar and it is rather a contamination of Margaret's
Lowestoffe, and Jin Vin, the aspiring appren- purity to have used such counsel.
tice, are excellent sketches of their kind. We have named them all now, or nearly-
So are John Christie and his frail dame. Lord and must at length conclude. Indeed, nothing
Dalgarno is more questionable. There are but the fascination of this author's pen, and
passages of extraordinary spirit and ability in the difficulty of getting away from him, could
this part; but he turns out too atrocious. "Şir have induced us to be so particular in our
Mungo Malagrowther wearies us from the notices of a story, the details of which will so.
beginning, and so does the horologist Ramsay soon be driven out of our heads by other de.
-because they are both exaggerated and un- tails as interesting—and as little fated to be re-
natural characters. We scarcely see enough membered. There are other two books coming,
of Margaret Ramsay to forgive her all her ir- we hear, in the course of the winter; and by
regularities, and her high fortune ; but a great the time there are four or five, that is, in about
deal certainly of what we do see is charm- eighteen months hence, we must hold our-
ingly executed. Dame Ursula is something selves prepared to give some account of them.

(October, 1823.) 1. Annals of the Parish, or the Chronicle of Dalmailing, during the Ministry of the Rev.

Micah Balwhidder. Written by Himself. 1 vol. 12mo. pp. 400. Blackwood. Edin.: 1819. 2. The Ayrshire Legatees, or the Pringle Family. By the Author of " Annals of the Parish,”

&c. 1 vol. 12mo. pp. 395. Blackwood. Edinburgh: 1820. 3. The Provost. By the Author of "Annals of the Parish,” “Ayrshire Legatees," &c.

1 vol. 12mo. lackwood. Edinburgh : 1820. 4. Sir Andrew Wyllie of that Ilk. By the Author of " Annals of the Parish," &c. 3 vols.

12mo. Blackwood. Edin.: 1822. 5. The Steam Boat. By the Author of "Annals of the Parish,” &c. 1 vol. 12mo. Black

wood. Edinburgh: 1822. 6. The Entail, or the Lairds of Grippy. By the Author of "Annals of the Parish," "Sir

Andrew Wyllie,” &c. 3 vols. 18mo. Blackwood. Edinburgh : 1823. 7. Ringan Gilhaize, or the Covenanters. By the Author of “Annals of the Parish,” &o.

3 vols. 12mo. Blackwood. Edinburgh : 1823. 8. Valerius, a Roman Story. 3 vols. 12mo. Blackwood. Edinburgh: 1820. 9. Lights and Shadows of Scotlish Life. 1 vol. 8vo. Blackwood. Edinburgh: 1822. 10. Some Passages in the Life of Mr. Adam Blair, Minister of the Gospel at Cross-Meikle

1 vol. 8vo. Blackwood. Edinburgh: 1822. 11. The Trials of Margaret Lyndsay. By the Author of “Lights and Shadows of Scottish

Life." 1 vol. 8vo. Blackwood. Edinburgh : 1823. 12. Reginald Dalton. By the Author of “Valerius," and “Adam Blair.” 3 vols. 8v0

Blackwood. Edinburgh : 1823.* We have been sometimes accused, we ob- set of lively and popular works, that have atserve, of partiality to the writers of our own tracted, and very deservedly, a large share of country, and reproached with helping mid- attention in every part of the empire-issuing dling Scotch works into notice, while far more from the press, successively for four or five meritorious publications in England and Ire- years, in this very city, and under our eyes, land have been treated with neglect. We and not hitherto honoured by us with any intake leave to say, that there could not possi- dication of our being even conscious of their bly be a more unjust accusation: and the list existence. The causes of this long neglect it of books which we have prefixed to this arti- can now be of no importance to explain. Bu cle, affords of itself, we now conceive, the sure we are, that our ingenious countrymen most triumphant refutation of it. Here is a have far greater reason to complain of it, than

+ I have retained most of the citations in this any aliens can have to impute this tardy repaarticle :-The books from which they are taken not

ration to national partiality. being so universally known as those of Sir Walter

The works themselves are evidently too Scout-and yet deserving, I think, of being thus numerous to admit of our now giving more recalled to the attention of general readers. The than a very general account of them :-and whole seem to have been originally put out anony. indeed, some of their authors emulate their mously :-But the authorship has been long ago great prototype so successfully in the rapid me to mention ihat the first seven in the list are the succession of their performances, that, even works of the late Mr. Galt, Valerius and Adam if they had not been so far ahead of us at the Blair of Mr. Lockhart--and the Lights and Sha- starting, we must soon have been reduced to dows, and Margaret Lindsay, of Professor Wilson. deal with them as we have done with him,

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and only to have noticed their productions casm, and a more distinct moral, or unity of when they had grown up into groups and fa- didactic purpose, in most of his writings, ihan milies as they increased and multiplied in it would be easy to discover in the playful, cathe land. In intimating that we regard them pricious, and fanciful sketches of his great as imitations of the inimitable novels, which master. me, who never presume to peep under masks, The other two authors have formed them. still hold to be by an author unknown, -we selves more upon the poetical, reflective, and have already exhausted more than half their pathetic parts of their common model; and general character. They are inferior certainly have aimed at emulating such beautiful pic(and what is not ?) to their great originals. tures as that of Mr. Peter Pattison, the blind But they are the best copies which have old women in Old Mortality and the Bride of yet been produced of them; and it is not Lammermoor, the courtship at the Mermaida little creditable to the genius of our be- en's Well, and, generally, his innumerable loved country, that, even in those gay and and exquisite descriptions of the soft, simple, airy walks of literature from which she had and sublime scenery of Scotland, as viewed been so long estranged, an opening was no in connection with the character of its better sooner made, by the splendid success of one rustic population. Though far better skilled gifted Scotsman, than many others were found than their associate, in the art of composition, ready to enter upon them, with a spirit of en- and chargeable, perhaps, with less direct imiterprise, and a force of invention, that prom- tation, we cannot but regard them as much ised still farther to extend their boundaries, less original, and as having performed, upon and to make these new adventurers, if not form- the whole, a far easier task. They have no idable rivals, at least not unworthy followers great variety of style, and but little of actual of him by whose example they were roused. invention--and are mannerists in the strongest

There are three authors, it seems to the sense of that term. Though unquestionably works now before us ;-so‘at least the title- pathetic in a very powerful degree, they are pages announce; and it is a rule with us, to pathetic, for the most part, by the common give implicit faith to those solemn intimations. recipes, which enable any one almost, to draw We think, indeed, that without the help of tears, who will condescend to employ them. that oracle, we should have been at no loss to They are mighty religious too, but appaascribe all the works which are now claimed rently on the same principle; and, while their by the author of the Annals of the Parish, to laboured attacks on our sympathies are felt, at one and the same hand; But we should cer- last, to be somewhat importunate and puerile, tainly have been inclined to suppose, that their devotional orthodoxies seem to tend, there was only one author for all the rest, - every now and then, a little towards cant. with the exception, perhaps, of Valerius, This is perhaps too harshly said ; and is more, which has little resemblance, either in sub- we confess, the result of the second reading stance or manner, to any of those with which than the first; and suggested rather by a comit is now associated.

parison with their great original, than an imIn the arduous task of imitating the great pression of their own independent merits. novelist, they have apparently found it neces- Compared with that high standard, it is imsary to resort to the great principle of division possible not to feel that they are somewhat of labour; and yet they have not, among wanting in manliness, freedom, and liberality; them, been able to equal the work of his single and, while they enlarge, in a sort of pastoral, hand! The author of the Parish Annals seems emphatic, and melodious style, on the virtues to have sought chiefly to rival the humorous of our cottagers, and the apostolical sanctity and less dignified parts of his original; by of our ministers and elders, the delights of large representations of the character and pure affection, and the comforts of the Bible, manners of the middling and lower orders in are lamentably deficient in that bold and free Scotland, intermingled with traits of sly and vein of invention, that thorough knowledge sarcastic sagacity, and occasionally softened of the world, and rectifying spirit of good and relieved by touches of unexpected ten- sense, which redeem all that great author's derness and simple pathos, all harmonised by Nights from the imputation either of extravathe same truth to nature and fine sense of gance or affectation, and give weight, as well national peculiarity. In these delineations as truth, to his most poetical delineations of there is, no doubt, more vulgarity, both of nature and of passion. But, though they can. style and conception, and less poetical inven- not pretend to this rare merit, which has tion, than in the corresponding passages of scarcely fallen to the share of more than one the works he aspires to imitate; but, on the since the days of Shakespeare, there is no other hand, there is more of that peculiar doubt much beautiful writing, much admi. humour which depends on the combination of rable description, and much both of tender great naïveté, indolence, and occasional ab- and of losty feeling, in the volumes of which surdity, with natural good sense, and taste, we are now speaking; and though their infe. and kind feelings in the principal charactersrior and borrowed lights are dimmed in the such combinations as Sir Roger de Coverley, broader blaze of the luminary, who now fills the Vicar of Wakefield, and My Uncle Toby, our Northern sky with his glory, they still hold have made familiar to all English readers, but their course distinctly within the orb of his at of which we have not hitherto had any good traction, and make a visible part of the splen Scottish representative. There is also more dour which draws to that quarter of the hea systematic, though very good-humoured, sar- vens the admiration of so many distant eyes

We must now, however, say a word or two preponderate over the tragic ai.a comic genius on the particular works we have enumerated; of the author. That character is, as we have among which, and especially in the first series, already hinted, as happily conceived as it is there is a very great difference of design, as admirably executed-contented, humble, and well as inequality of merit. The first with perfectly innocent and sincere—very orthodox, which we happened to become acquainted, and zealously Presbyterian, without learning and, after all, perhaps the best and most in- or habits of speculation-soft-hearted and full teresting of the whole, is that entitled "An- of indulgence and ready sympathy, without nals of the Parish.” comprising in one little any enthusiasm or capacity of devoted attachvolume of about four hundred pages the do- ment-given to old-fashioned prejudices, with mestic chronicle of a worthy minister, on the an instinctive sagacity in practical atlairs coast of Ayrshire, for a period of no less than and unconsciously acute in detecting the char. fifty-one years, from 1760 to 1810. The acters of others, and singularly awake to the primitive simplicity of the pastor's character, beauties of nature, without a notion either of tinctured as it is by his professional habits and observation or of poetry-very patient and sequestered situation, form but a part of the primitive in short, indolent and gossiping, and attraction of this work. The brief and natural scarcely ever stirring either in mind or person, notices of the public events which signalised beyond the limits of his parish. The style the long period through which it extends, and of the book is curiously adapted to the charthe slight and transient effects they produced acter of the supposed author-very genuine on the tranquil lives and peaceful occupations homely Scotch in the idiom and many of the of his remote parishioners, have not only a expressions — but tinctured with scriptural natural, we think, but a moral and monitory phrases, and some relics of college learningeffect; and, while they revive in our own and all digested in the grave and methodical breasts the almost forgotten impressions of our order of an old-fashioned sermon. childhood and early youth, as to the same After so much praise, we are rather afraid transactions, make us feel the actual insignifi. to make any extracts—for the truth is, that cance of those successive occurrences which, there is not a great deal of matter in the book, each in its turn, filled the minds of his con- and a good deal of vulgarity—and that it is temporaries,—and the little real concern which only good-natured people, with something of the bulk of mankind have in the public history the annalist's own simplicity, that will be as of their day. This quiet and detailed retro- much pleased with it as we have been. For spect of fifty years, brings the true moment the sake of such persons, however, we will and value of the events it embraces to the venture on a few specimens. Here is the test, as it were, of their actual operation on description of Mrs. Malcolm. particular societies; and helps to dissipate the illusion, by which private persons are so fre- “Secondly. I have now to speak of the coming quently led to suppose, that they have a per

of Mrs. Malcolm. She was the widow of a Clyde sonal interest in the wisdom of cabinets, or shipmaster, that was lost at sea with his vessel. She the madness of princes. The humble sim- morning to night she sat at her wheel, spinning the plicity of the chronicler's character assists, no finest lint, which suited well with her pale hands. doubt, this sobering effect of his narrative. She never changed her widow's weeds, and she The natural and tranquil manner in which he was aye as if she had just been ta'en out of a bandputs down great things by the side of little box. The tear was aften in her e'e when the bairns and considers as exactly on the same level, spirit was lighted up with gladness, although, poor

were at the school; but when they came home, her the bursting of the parish mill-dam and the woman, she had many a time very line to give commencement of the American troubles-them. They were, however, wonderful well-bred the victory of Admiral Rodney and the dona- things, and iook with thankfulness whatever she tion of 501. to his kirk-session, —are all equally set before them, for they knew that their father, the edifying and agreeable; and illustrate, in a breadwinner, was away, and that she had to work very pleasing way, that law of intellectual, as vexation that ever she had from any of them, on

sore for their bit and drap. I dare say, the only well as of physical optics, by which small their own account, was when Charlie, the eldest things at hand uniformly appear greater than laddie, had won fourpence at piich and toss at the large ones at a distance.

school, which he brought home with a proud heart The great charm of the work, however, is to his mother: I happened 10 be daunrin' bye at in the traits of character which'it discloses, the time, and just looked in at the door to say gude and the commendable brevity with which rear on her cheek, and Charlie greeting as if he had the whole chronicle is digested. We know done a great fault, and the other four looking on scarcely any instance in which a modern with sorrowful faces. Never, I am sure, did Charlie writer has shown such forbearance and con- Malcolm gamble after that night. sideration for his readers. With very consider

“I often wondered what brought Mrs. Malcolm able powers of humour, the ludricous incidents to our clachan, instead of going to a populous town, are never dwelt upon with any tediousness, she was but of a silly constitution, the which would

where she might have taken up a huxury-shop, as nor pushed to the length of burlesque or caric. have been better for her than spinning from morning ature—and the more seducing touches of to far in the night, as if she was in verity drawing pathos with which the work abounds, are the thread of lie. But it was, no doubi, from an intermingled and cut short, with the same honest pride to hide her poveriy; for when her sparing and judicious hand;-so that the tem- lassie was very ill-nobody thought she could coine

daughter Effie was ill with the measles-the poor perate and natural character of the pastor is through; and when she did get the turn, she was ihus, by a rare merit and felicity, made to for many a day a heavy handful ;-our session being

rich, and nobody on it but cripple Tammy Daidles, thought it was but a foreign hawk, with a yellow that was at that time known through all the country head and green feathers.”Ibid. pp. 44, 45. side for begging on a horse, I thought it my duty to call upon Mrs. Malcolm in a sympathising way, and The good youth gets into the navy, and disoffer her some assistance--but she refused it. * No, tinguishes himself in various actions. This is sir,' said she. 'I canna take help from the poor's the catastrophe. box, although it's very true that I am in great need ; 'or it might hereafter be cast up to my bairns, whom "But, oh! the wicked wastry of life in war! In { may please God to restore to better circumstances less than a month after, the news came of a victory when I am no to see't; but I would fain borrow over the French fleet, and by the same post I goia five pounds, and if, sir, you will write to Mr. Mait. letter from Mr. Howard, that was the midshipman land, that is now the Lord Provost of Glasgow, and who came to see us with Charles, telling me that cell him that Marion Shaw would be obliged to poor Charles had been mortally wounded in the achim for the lend of that soom, I think he will not tion, and had afterwards died of his wounds. · He (ail to send it.'

was a hero in the engagement,' said Mr. Howard, " I wrote the letter that night to Provost Mait- and he died as a good and a brave man should.'land, and, by the retour of the post, I got an answer, These tidings gave me one of the sorest hearts I with twenty pounds for Mrs. Malcolm, saying, “that ever suffered ; and it was long before I could gather it was with sorrow he heard so small a irifle could fortitude to disclose the tidings to poor Charles' be serviceable.' When I took the letter and the mother. But the callants of the school had heard of money, which was in a bank-bill, she said, “This the victory, and were going shouting about, and had is just like himsel.' She then told me, that Mr. set the steeple bell a-ringing, by which Mrs. MalMaitland had been a gentleman's son of the east colm heard ihe news; and knowing that Charles' country, but driven out of his father's house, when ship was with the fleet, she came over to the Manse a laddie, by his step-mother; and that he had served in great anxiety, to hear the particulars, somebody as a servant lad with her father, who was the Laird telling her that there had been a foreign letter to me of Yillcogie, but ran through his estate, and left by the post-man. her, his only daughter, in litile better than beggary " When I saw her I could not speak, but looked with her auntie, the mother of Captain Malcolm, at her in pity! and the tear fleeing up into my eyes, her husband that was. Provost Maitland in his ehe guessed what had happened. After giving a servitude, had ia'en a notion of her; and when he deep and sore sigh, she inquired, * How did he be. recovered his patrimony, and had become a great have? I hope well, for he was aye a gallant lad. Glasgow merchant, on hearing how she was left by die!'--and then she wept very bilierly. However, her father, he offered to marry her, but she had growing calmer, I read to her the letter, and when promised herself to her cousin the Captain, whose I had done, she begged me to give it her to keep, widow she was. He then married a rich lady, and saying, 'It's all that I have now left of my pretty in time grew, as he was, Lord Provost of the City : boy; but it's mair precious to me than the wealth but his letter with the twenty pounds to me, showed of ihe Indies ;' and she begged me to return thanks that he had not forgotten his first love. It was a

to the Lord, for all the comforts and manifold mer. short, but a well-written letter, in a fair hand of cies with which her lot had been blessed, since the write, containing much of the true gentleman; and hour she put her trust in Him alone, and that was Mrs. Malcolm said, 'Who knows but out of the when she was left a pennyless widow, with her five regard he once had for their mother, he may do fatherless bairns. It was just an edification of the something for my five helpless orphans.'"-Annals spirit

, to see the Christian resignation of this wor; of the Parish, pp. 16–21.

thy woman. Mrs. Balwhidder was confounded,

and said, there was more sorrow in seeing the deep Charles afterwards goes to sea, and comes grief of her fortitude, than tongue could iell, home unexpectedly.

“Having taken a glass of wine with her, I walk.

ed out to conduct her to her own house, but in the - One evening, towards the gloaming, as I was

way we met with a severe trial. All the weans taking my walk of meditation, I saw a brisk sailor were out parading with napkins and kail-blades on laddie coming towards me. He had a pretty green sticks, rejoicing and triumphing in the glad tidings parrot, sitting on a bundle, ried in a Barcelona silk of victory. But when they saw me and Mrs. Malhandkerchief, which he carried with a stick over his colm coming slowly along, they guessed what had shoulder, and in this bundle was a wonderful big happened, and threw away their banners of joy; nut, such as no one in our parish had ever seen. I and, standing all up in a row, with silence and sad. was called a cocker-nut. "This blithe callant was ness, along the kirk-yard wall as we passed, show. Charlie Malcolm, who had come all the way that ed an instinct of compassion that penetrated to my day his leaful lane, on his own legs from Greenock, very soul. The poor mother burst into fresh affic. where the Tobacco trader was then 'livering her tion, and some of the bairns into an audible weep. cargo. I told him how his mother, and his brothers, ing; and, taking one another by the hand, they fóland his sisters were all in good health, and went to lowed us to her door, like mourners at a funeral. convoy him home; and as we were going along, he Never was such a sight seen in any lown before. told me many curious things : and he gave me six The neighbours came to look at it, as we walked beautiful yellow limes, that he had brought in his along; and the men turned aside to hide their faces, pouch all the way across the seas, for me to make while the mothers pressed their babies fondlier to a bowl of punch with ! and I thought more of them their bosoms, and watered their innocent faces with than if they had been golden guineas-it was so their tears. mindful of the laddie.

"I prepared a suitable sermon, taking as the “ When we got to the door of his mother's house, words of my text, : Howl, ye ships of Tarshish, for she was sitting at the fire-side, with her three other your strengih is laid waste. But when I saw around bairns at their bread and milk, Kate being then with me so many of my people, clad in complimentary Lady Skimmilk, at the Breadland, sewing. It was mourning for the gallant Charles Malcolm, and that between the day and dark, when the shutile stands even poor daft Jenny Gaffaw, and her daughter, had still till the lamp is lighted. But such a shout of joy on an old black ribbon; and when I thought of him, and thankfulness as rose from that hearth, when the spirited laddie, coming home from Jamaica, with Charlie went in! The very parrot, ye would have his parrot on his shoulder, and his limes for me, my thought, was a participator, for the beast gied a heart filled full, and I was obliged 10 sit down in the skraik that made my whole head dirl; and the pulpit and drop a tear.'Ibid. pp. 214–218. neighbours came flying and flocking to see what was the matter, for it was the first parrot ever

We like these tender passages the bestseen within the bounds of the parish, and some but the reader should have a specimen of the humorous vein also. The following we think a carrel, took up a dancing-school at Ireville, the excellent.

which art he had learned in the genieelest fashion,

in the mode of Paris, at the French court. Such a " In the course of the summer, just as the roof thing as a dancing school had never, in the memory was closing in of the school-house, my lord came to of man, been known in our country side; and there the castle with a great company, and was not there was such a sound about the steps and cotillions of a dav vill he sent for me to come over on the next Mr. Macskipnish, that every lad and lass, that could Sunday, to dine with him ; but I sent him word that spare time and siller, went to him, to the great neI could not do so, for it would be a transgression of glect of their work. The very bairns on the loan, the Sabbath; which made him send his own gentle. instead of their wonted play, gaed linking and loupman, to make his apology for having taken so great ing in the steps of Mr. Macskipnish, who was, to be a liberty with me, and to beg me to come on the sure, a great curiosity, with long spindle legs, his Monday, which I accordingly did, and nothing could breast shot out like a duck's, and his head powdes. be better than the discretion with which I was used. ed and frizzled up like a tappii-hen. He was, inThere was a vast company of English ladies and deed, the proudest peacock ihat could be seen, and gentlemen, and his lordship, in a most jocose man he had a ring on his finger, and when he came to ner, told them all how he had fallen on ihe midden, drink his tea at the Breadland, he brought no hat on and how I had clad him in my clothes, and there his head, but a droll cockit Thing under his arm, was a wonder of laughing and diversion : But the which, he said, was after the manner of the courtiers most particular thing in the company, was a large, at the petty suppers ofone Madame Pumpadour, who round-faced man, with a wig, that was a dignitary was at that time the concubine of the French king. in some great Episcopalian church in London, who “I do not recollect any other remarkable thing was extraordinary condescending, towards me, that happened in this year. The harvest was very drinking wine with me at the table, and saying abundant, and the meal so cheap, that it caused a weighiy sentences in a fine style of language, about great defect in my stipend, so that I was obligated to the becoming grace of simplicity and innocence of postpone the purchase of a mahogany scratoire for heart, in the clergy of all denominations of Chris. my study, as I had intended. But I had not the tians, which I was pleased to hear; for really he heart to complain of this; on the contrary, I rejoiced had a proud red countenance, and I could not have thereat, for what made me want my scrutoire till thought he was so mortified to humility within, had another year, had carried blitheness into the hearth I noi heard with what sincerity he delivered him of the cotter, and made the widow's heart sing with sell, and seen how much reverence and attention joy; and I would have been an unnatural creature, was paid to him by all present, particularly by my had I not joined in the universal gladness, because lord's chaplain, who was a pious and pleasant young plenty did abound."— lbid. pp. 30–32. divine, though educated at Oxford for the Episco palian persuasion.

We shall only try the patience of our readOne day soon after, as I was sitting in my ers farther with the death of Nanse Banks, the closet conning a sermon for the next Sunday, I was old parish school-mistress. surprised by a visit from the dean, as the dignitary was called. He had come, he said, to wait on me but, being a methodical creature, still kept on the

“She had been long in a weak and frail state, as rector of the parish, for so it seems they call a pastor in England, and to say, that, if it was agree and mother. However, about the decline of the

school, laying the foundation for many a worihy wife able, he would take a family dinner with us before he left the castle. I could make no objection to his year her complaints increased, and she sent for me kindness, but said I hoped my lord would come

to consult about her giving up the school; and I with him, and that we would do our best to enter

went to see her on a Saturday afternoon, when the tain them with all suitable hospitalily. About an

bit lassies, her scholars, had put the house in order, hour or so after he had returned to the castle, one of and gone home till the Monday. the junkies brought a letter from his lordship 10

She was sitting in the window.nook, reading say, that not only he would coine with the dean, The word to herself, when I entered; but she closbut that they would bring the other guests with ed the book, and put her spectacles in for a mark them, and that, as they could only drink London when she saw me: and, as it was expected I would wine, the butler would send me a hamper in the come, her easy chair, with a clean cover, had been morning, assured. as he was pleased to say that Mrs. set out for me by the scholars, by which I discerned Balwhidder would otherwise provide good cheer.

that there was something more than common 10 “This notification, however, was a great trouble happen, and so it appeared when I had taken my to my wife, who was only used to manufacture the seat. , 'Sir,' said she, 1 hae sent for you on a thing produce of our glebe and yard to a profitable pur; this shed, which it has pleased the Lord to allow me

Troubles me sairly. I have warsled with poortih in pose, and not used to the treatment of deans and lords, and other persons of quality. However, she lo possess; but my strength is worn out, and I fear was determined io stretch a point on this occasion, I maun yield in the strife ;' and she wiped her eve and we had, as all present declared, a charming with her apron. I told her, however, to be of good dinner; for fortunately one of the sows had a litter cheer; and then she said, that she could no longer of pigs a few days before, and, in addition 10 a goose, thole the din of the school; and that she was weary, that is but a boss bird, we had a roasted pig, with and ready to lay herself down to die whenever the an apple in its mouth, which was just a curiosity to Lord was pleased to permit. But,' continued she, see; and my lord called it a tyihe pig, but I iold

what can I do without the school ? and, alas! I him it was one of Mrs. Balwhidder's own clecking, can neither work nor want; and I am wae to go on which saying of mine made no little sport when he Session, for I am come of a decent family I expounded to the dean.”—Annals of the Parish, comforted her, and told her, that I thought she had pp. 136–141.

done so much good in the parish, that ihe Session

was deep in her debt, and that what they might We add the description of the first dancing- give her was but a just payment for her service. ! master that had been seen in these parts in would rather, however, sir,' said she, try first the year 1762.

what some of my auld scholars will do, and it was

for that I wanted to speak with you. If some of “ Also a thing happened in this year, which de. them would but just, from time to time, look in serves to be recorded, as manifesting what effect the upon me, that I may not die alane; and the little smuggling was beginning to take on the morals of pick and drap that I require would not be hard upor! the country side. One Mr. Macskipnish, of High. ihem-I am more sure that in this way their gratiland parentage, who had been a valet-de-chambre rude would be no discredit, than I am of having any with a Major in the campaigns, and taken a prisoner claim on the Session.' with him by the French, he having come home in " As I had always a great respect for an honest

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