lent and sudden convulsion, they spread a holy and not unpleasing charm over the scenes of their past grandeur. But the grave of youth shocks every heart like the fragments of some splendid palace, newly constructed for purposes of gaiety and pleasure-decorated with all the embellishments of taste and fancy, and furnished with every thing that can minister to joy and pride but suddenly, in the midst of a festival, shaken down by an earthquake, and burying a crowd of young and happy hearts beneath the ruins.-New York Mirror. LITTLE MASTER VIZ. SOME writers follow an absurd practice in interlarding their productions with scraps of Latin, and other languages ancient and modern. Even men who affect to hold classical learning in contempt, do so, greatly to the vexation of those who wish to see the English tongue purified from all such pretended ornament and overloading. It is argued that the use of a Latin word and phrase, now and then, gives strength to the expression, at least that it embellishes it considerably. This we deny. There are words in the English language sufficient for every variety of expression. Our vernacular tongue is not so poor as to make it a matter of necessity to borrow sentiments and phrases from the classics, with the view of dignifying our literature. The first, the most essential requisite in literary composition, is intelligibility-clearness of expression. The ideas of the author ought to be poured out in such a simple manner as to be at once stamped on the mind of the reader. Every kind of mysticism, ambiguity, or jargon capable of confusing the sense, should be avoided in authorcraft. And what is the introduction of Latin words into books for common reading, but a mystifying of the sense? Is there one out of a thousand readers who understands Latin? Perhaps there may be one, and yet even he, we are convinced, would have no objections to be spared the trouble of translation. Now that the pursuit of classical learning is very properly declining-now that it is discovered that the acquisition of something more substantial and practical than Latin is required in order to fit men for the multifarious business of life, we hope to see not only classical phraseology, but every vile idea connected with the heathen mythology, abandoned. We are anxious to see the English language written with an elegance and strength of expression entirely its own. We wish to see it standing on its own merits, and its purity made every where a matter of first-rate importance in education. And all this can be accomplished with perfect ease, provided the people exert their understandings, and discountenance that vicious system of cultivating ancient languages, to the exclusion of nearly every other branch of study. There is a matter of lesser moment connected with our vernacular tongue, which it also may not be amiss to give a hint about. We mean the practice of substituting contractions of Latin words for terms which could be much better expressed in English. The retaining of these contractions is only helping to keep up the more extensive use of the classical tongues. There are many of these contractions in vogue, but a notice of one or two will be sufficient. For instance, let us point out the contraction i. e. These letters signify id est, the plain English of which is, that is. Now, we ask any one, whether learned in Latin or otherwise, if there be the least value in substituting i. e. for that is? Is the sense rendered more clear? By no means. The practice is only an old vicious habit, which our English writers have not hitherto had the fortitude to dismiss. Let us turn to the similar case of the contraction viz. This ugly little word, which is used very freely in all kinds of literary composition, from the ponderous quarto on metaphysics, down to the daily newspaper, is a contraction of the term videlicet, which signifies something like see here; its meaning, however, is far better expressed by the plain English word namely, which every body understands. Viz., we remember, was one of those troublesome words which our grammar books explained to us at school, and probably most boys are in the same manner informed of its meaning. But we cannot exactly see the propriety of foisting a difficulty into the language, in order to have the pleasure of conquering it. It would be much more comfortable, we think, for all parties, that Master Viz should forthwith be dismissed the service. He is an old mysterious little imp, that has well executed his duty of bothering mankind, and may now with all due courtesy be laid upon the shelf. Speaking of this little fellow, Master Viz, we are put in mind of a story which we read some years ago in an old magazine, and which we beg to restore for the amusement of those readers who have not previously perused it. "Being deputed to make choice of a house (says the relater of the anecdote), and to order an annual dinner for a party of gentlemen, I determined upon one pleasantly situated on the banks of the Thames. Having agreed with the landlord as to terms, and the precise dishes that were to placed on the table, I informed him, that in the event of the party being likewise satisfied, I would transmit him a letter, by post, naming the day, &c. Their consent being signified, I wrote, merely stating that on such a day he might expect us, to the number of twenty-two, at so much per head; and to guard against any misunderstanding, I thought it prudent to recapitulate the dishes we had previously agreed upon-beginning viz. fish, veal, ham,' and so forth. By return of post, I received the following curious This letter of course afforded considerable mirth to the party who perused it; but it appeared to me strange that my landlord should be incapable of understanding the contraction, and yet write the word at length, though improperly spelt. To reconcile this point, I was at considerable trouble; and I cannot convey the result of my inquiries in a better form than as the dialogue actually took place upon the receipt of my letter, at which time the landlord, his wife, and a waiter, were in the bar :- Why, wife, did you ever hear me mention such a dish as viz when the gentleman was down here ordering the dinner?' 'No, husband, no; what is viz ?' A gentleman who had just paid the waiter for his morning beverage, hearing the last question, politely answered, 'It means videlicet, madam,' and passed on. Here mine host was again at a pause, when he suddenly exclaimed, 'And what is videlicct? I never heard of such a dish as that in all my life.' 'Nor I, husband, though I have lived in the first families-ay, and where every kind of made dish has been sent to table.' 'Thomas, do you know what is videlicet ? No, sir; but I suppose it's one of those newfangled dishes that the French are so fond of. I'll ask in the kitchen.' The inquiries in the kitchen were equally unsuccessful; but Thomas, upon recollection, thought he had heard of a fish of that name. To the shore my landlord immediately proceeded; all the river fishermen were in turn applied to, but all were equally positive that videlicet did not grow in the river Thames, or else they must have caught him-perhaps it might be a salt-water fish; but that opinion was not supported by the landlady, who declared that, if videlicet was any thing, it was a made dish; and, not to expose their ignorance, they agreed to apologise, and make no further inquiries. On the day of the dinner, which, to do the landlord credit, was excellent, the idea of viz was not forgotlandlord, who waited in person, thought proper, with ten the inquiries for it were so frequent, that the many apologies, to express his regret that he had not been able to procure it in time-the letter came too late-the notice was so short-but, desirous to oblige, he had placed on the table, in its stead, a giblet pie. This explanation produced such an involuntary, such a general burst of laughter, that we all sensibly felt for the landlord's embarrassment, from which, however, he was adroitly relieved by one of the party observing, Why, really, Mr B., I admire your substitution: your giblet pie is excellent, and so like videlicet, that I shall never eat of the one without thinking upon the other.'" WATER SOUCHY.-This is a mode of dressing freshwater fish, of every description, such as gudgeons, perch, eels, flounders, &c. ; they must be quite fresh, cleaned and trimmed. Put them in a stew-pan, and cover them in water; add a few parsley leaves and roots cut in shreds, a few green onions cut very fine, a little horse-radish, and a bay-leaf, seasoned with pepper and salt; skim it carefully when it boils. When the fish is quite done, send it up in a deep dish or tureen; also a few slices of bread and butter on a plate. IMITATION OF FINDHORN HADDOCKS.-Let the fish be well cleaned, and laid in salt for two hours; let the water drain from them, and then wet them with pyroligneous acid; they may be split or not; then hang them in a dry situation for a day or two, or longer, if you please. When broiled, they have the flavour of the Findhorn haddock, and will keep sweet for a long time. DERBY, OR SHORT CAKES.-Rub with the hand two lbs. of butter into four lbs. of sifted flour, two lbs. of currants, two lbs. of moist sugar, two eggs, mixed altogether with a pint of milk; roll it out thin, and cut it into round or square cakes with a cutter; lay them on a clean baking sheet, and bake them about five minutes in a middling heated oven. PUDDINGS THAT ARE QUICKLY MADE WITHOUT MUCH EXPENSE.-Beat up four spoonsful of flour with a pint of milk and four eggs to a good batter, nutmegs and sugar to your taste; butter teacups, fill them three parts full, and send them to the oven. A quarter of an hour will bake them. TO MAKE OYSTER CATSUP.-One hundred of large oysters, with all their liquor; one pound of anchovies; three pints of white wine; one lemon with half the peel; boil gently for half an hour, then strain, and add cloves and mace, of each a quarter of an ounce, one nutmeg sliced, boil a quarter of an hour; then add two ounces of shallots. When cold, bottle it with the spice and shallots. If the oysters be large, they should be cut. RECENT COLD. A tea-spoonful of sal-volatile, taken in a small quantity of water or white wine whey at bedtime, is a good remedy for a recent cold. Bath. ing the nose in warm water is also a great relief. LAMENTE FOR THE AULDE HOSTELS. Wha kenned what blythnes wes rycht weil, I wene; (Haplic now herboure for the vyle and meane), Whair is John's coffee-house? and tell me whair "The parloure splendours of that festyf place !" The samplar, showing every kind of stitch E'er known or practised underneath the skyc— Thread-circled holes denominated "pye"Embattled lynes-of squayr-tayled lambs a paireStrange cloven-footed letters, awkwardlye Contriving to make up the Lorde hys prayerAnd names of John and Jean and William all were thair. Thair, also, hung around the wainscot wall, Eche in its panel, of old prynts a store; Adam in paradyce before the Falle: The sailours mutinying at the Nore; The deth of Cooke on Otaheite's shore; So that ilke feature you full well could spye: In nights of other years-jocoseness blente R. C. Messrs Chambers respectfully intimate, that they have now published the second volume of the SPIRIT OF CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL, Price 4s., handsomely done up in boards. The first volume may be obtained uniform with it, at the same price. This work, which from time to time will be continued, ecssists of a collection of the original tales, essays, and sketches, which first appeared in the Journal, and is published for the convenience of those individuals who may desire to possess such papers ia a portable shape. Also, now completed, CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE. In one volume 4to., uniform with the volumes of the Journal. This work consists of a series of treatises on those branches of huma knowledge in which the greater part of the community are most interested, and designed to serve the chief uses of an encyclopada, at a price beyond example moderate. LONDON: Published, with Permission of the Proprietors, by ORB & SMITH, Paternoster Row; and sold by G. BERONR, Holywell Street, Strand; BANCKS & Co., Manchester; WRIGHTSON & WEBB, Birmingham; WILLMER & SMITH, Liverpool; W. E. SOMERSCALE, Leeds; C. N. WRIGHT, Nottingham; M. BINGHAM, Bristol; S. SIMMS, Bath; C. GAIN, Exeter; J. PR DON, Hull; A. WHITTAKER, Sheffield; H. BELLERBY, York; J. TAYLOR, Brighton; GEORGE YOUNG, Dublin; and all other Booksellers and Newsmen in Great Britain and Ireland, Canada, Nova Scotia, and United States of America. Complete sets of the work from its commencement, or numbers to complete sets, may at all times be obtained from the Publishers or their Agents. Stereotyped by A. Kirkwood, Edinburgh. Printed by Bradbury and Evans (late T. Davison). Whitefriars CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM CHAMBERS, AUTHOR OF "THE BOOK OF SCOTLAND," &c., AND BY ROBERT CHAMBERS, AUTHOR OF "TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH," "PICTURE OF SCOTLAND," &c. No. 188. HAZELBURN, A STORY OF SCOTTISH RURAL LIFE. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 1835. THERE are places in Scotland for which our language seems scarcely to afford a name. They cannot, with propriety, be called towns, villages, or farm-steadings. Perhaps hamlet might apply, though even for this they appear to be too inconsiderable. They usually consist of about a dozen cottages, rudely built of stone, and thatched with straw. The light received by each humble domicile is from a couple of small windows, and beside the door you will often perceive a stone deas or seat, on which the father of the family in fine summer evenings may be seen seated, quietly resting from his day's labour in the field, and enjoying the declining rays of the setting sun, which glint pleasantly through the trees and across the hedgerows. Such rustic little hamlets frequently lie on a beaten track through the country, but exhibit few of the peculiarities of roadside villages. They are inhabited only by a few families engaged in rural occupations, including possibly a tailor, weaver, and shoemaker, and their only trait of commerce is most likely exhibited in the shape of a small grocery establishment, from which tobacco and bread-both equally importations from the nearest burgh town-are dispensed on a limited scale to the inhabitants. It is in such small communities that the genuine Scottish character is most frequently to be met with. There flourish the unsophisticated peasant, sturdy in his principles of civil and religious liberty, and zealous for the education of his children. the industrious tradesman, half agricultural in his ideas and means of subsistence-and the patient widow, who, though downcast with her deprivations, yet sets her heart and hands to toil for herself and offspring, and would almost die of sheer want before she would appeal to the parochial administration for relief. It is in one of these rural hamlets, Hazelburn by name, that the scene of our story is laid. In this comparatively secluded spot, a number of years ago, lived Robin Ferguson, a strong-built muscular man, with arms nerved to the most laborious employment, and with a countenance deeply tanned by constant exposure in the fields, yet possessing an appearance of sagacity and reflection, which, with his well-known excellent character, rendered him re. spected and looked up to by neighbours on a level with him in worldly circumstances. James Lindsay, another of the inhabitants of the hamlet, was an individual very different in several respects. Broken down in constitútion, and weak in body, he was looked upon with an eye of sympathising pity by all around him. His habitation was one of the poorest in the place, yet, though lowly in its character, it was the seat of much happiness and contentment. James was kind and affectionate to his wife to a degree almost bordering on weakness, and this kindness she returned with a delicacy and devotedness of attachment seldom to be met with in higher circles. James, when very young, had committed the egregious folly of enlisting as a soldier, and while the regiment to which he belonged was quartered in a village in the west of Scotland, he had formed an intimacy with a young woman, a farmer's daughter, who, it seems, returned his affection with so much enthusiasm, that she at last consented to his wishes, and they made a runaway marriage. This affair was managed in all respects as honourably as the circumstances admitted of; but the parents and relations of the new-made wife were so incensed at her taking such a step with out their approbation, and thus throwing herself away, as they termed it, that they fairly disowned her. The consequence of this imprudent marriage ws, that Agnes Russell, now Lindsay, was forced to share all the privations and uncertainty of a soldier's life, and to content herself with such provisions and protection as her husband could afford her while his regiment remained in Britain. But to make matters worse, in less than six months it was ordered to the Cape of Good Hope, and, by some particular arrangement of the troops, Agnes was prevented from accompanying her husband. Already disowned by her parents, and forbidden ever again to enter their door, her prospects now, in the midst of strangers, were far from being bright. After seeing him embark, with a letter of introduction which he had given her, and an almost empty pocket, she set out from one of the seaports of England on her pilgrimage to Hazelburn, in the hope that she might find an asylum among his relations-the only friends to whom she could look for protection. By dint of travelling nearly night and day, and sparing no exertion, she arrived at her hoped-for place of refuge, and was received with a hearty welcome, and treated with the greatest kindness. Here, however, she would have been a sad drawback upon the poor people who received her with open arms. But, fortunately for them, though she was a farmer's daughter, she had not been bred a fine lady. Under a sentiment of pride rather than of humility, she hired herself as a servant as soon as she could find a place; and so not only provided for her own wants, which were of course much abridged, but proved a benefactor in stead of a burden to her adopted friends. She had no children, and in this way eight years passed over, at the end of which, intelligence arrived that the regiment in which her husband served was on its way home. We cannot stop here to speak of the tumultuous and joyful feelings to which this information gave rise in the bosom of Agnes. At last the newspapers announced the arrival of the vessel in which he was, at the same port from which he had sailed; and the devoted wife set out to meet him. But on reaching the place, how was she shocked to find him in an hospital!-and, instead of the young, vigorous, and healthy appearance which he wore when he left her, to see him pale and emaciated, panting for want of breath, and apparently tottering downward to the grave. He had caught a bad cold from imprudently sleeping upon deck to avoid the heat and suffocation of the hold while the vessel was under the line. This might have been easily removed had it been treated in time; but, from being neglected, it had sat down on his lungs, as he himself said, and now there was but little hope of his recovery. His wife, however, watched him night and day with unwearied attention and unremitting tenderness; and whether it were from her punctual attendance to his bodily comfort, or from the cheering influence which her presence and kindness exercised upon his spirit, it were difficult to say, but he began slowly to recover, though it was evident he would never again be fit for active service. In this state of affairs his discharge was easily procured; and as soon as his health would permit, Agnes conveyed him back to Hazelburn by easy stages, and in such a way as to give him the least possible fatigue. Here she tended him with all that care and tenderness with which a mother watches over her child, while she at the same time toiled like a slave for his support and her own, till he was so far recovered as to be able to engage in such work as the place afforded. Well might he love and esteem the woman who had done so much for him! About three years after her husband had been dis. charged, Agnes Lindsay gave birth to a daughter, and at last fortune seemed to smile upon them. For PRICE THREE HALFPENCE. the six following years they lived happy and comfortable, while their united earnings were more than sufficient for all their wants. But though James Lindsay, under the care of his wife, had in a great measure recovered from the effects of that almost fatal cold, he was never again a healthy man. The disease had been too deeply rooted ever to be thoroughly eradicated. It still continued to linger in his constitution; and when the meridian of life was past, symptoms of increasing indisposition began to break out anew, and to alarm the fears of his anxious wife. All her attentions were now redoubled, and every thing was tried which it was supposed might have a tendency to strengthen or to recover him, but in vain. He lingered on for two years more in a state of hopeless consumption, sometimes at work and sometimes confined to bed, but getting gradually weaker and weaker. Yet the dying man was patient and resigned-no one heard him utter a repining word. His complaint was thus making rapid progress to its consummation, and the chill hand of poverty would have helped it on, but for the sympathy of the neigh. bours, which was now fully awakened. Among these, the good offices of Robin Ferguson were neither the last nor the least. He was not one of those obtrusive characters sometimes found about sick-beds, who are ever more ready to communicate advice than to admiuister relief from their worldly riches. He had sent his wife oftener than once with a bottle of wine, which he had himself gone to purchase, and to this it is probable the dying man owed the last weeks of his exist. ence. Towards the close of his illness, his wife's constitution was so much impaired by over-exertion, night watching, and constant anxiety of mind, that at times it appeared almost doubtful which of them would reach the end of their journey first. A small sum of money which they had saved during their years of prosperity, was now spent to the last farthing; and to add to their embarrassment and distress, several small debts had been contracted which they had no prospect of being able to pay. The cold hand of charity-cold when warmest was all they had to lean to. Things were in this state when the wreck of the unfortunate soldier perished, leaving his much-loved Agnes a widow, and his little daughter fatherless. The indescribable anguish of the now desolate widow we pass over-hers was a bitter cup. The case was, moreover, peculiarly distressing, not only to the party more immediately concerned, but to the neighbours. The widow did not possess a farthing in the world-her relations had declared that they had cut her off from all share in their affections-the corpse of her deceased husband lay unburied, and she was without the means of laying it decently in the ground. The compassionate wives of the neighbouring cottagers, in this dilemma, could only suggest the propriety of her applying to the parochial authorities; but this idea was to her too degrading to be contemplated. She could not brook, as she said, the notion that her daughter might have it "cast up to her in after-life that her father had been buried by the parish! But then, oh, what shall I do? Surely He that is the friend of the distressed, and sees even the fall of a sparrow, will raise up some one to help me in this sore trial." Fortunately, honest Robin Ferguson had not suffered an exhaustion of practical benevolence in the case of the distressed family: he did that which few would voluntarily engage to execute: he was at the trouble and expense of interring the mortal remains of his deceased neighbour, and therefore relieving agonies of mind which can be more easily imagined than described. On arriving at his own house, after the funeral, he found ་ nearly a dozen of the most influential inhabitants of "That's very true ye're sayin', Peggy," observed Jenny Dickson, a middle-aged unmarried female, who lived by "out-wark," as field labour is called in the rural districts of Scotland; "that's very true ye're sayin'. Somebody should just gang ower bye the morn's mornin', and tell Mrs Gledstane a' about Nanny's She's no sic an ill body as some folk haud her out to be. Ye ken how she sent a chicken to puir Jamie a fortnight afore he dee'd. Forbye, she's an unco religious body, and never flytes less than aughtand-forty hours if ane o' the servants stays at hame case. frae the kirk." "Aha, lass," rejoined Eppie, "I see ye dinna ken the history o' the chicken. There's naebody kens about it but mysel', and I had it frae the servin'-man, Tammas, when he cam to the gudeman the other day to get a steek put in his new-turned coat-ye ken the Gledstanes aye gar their livery last twa years at least, by turnin' them outside in, whilk is a puir thing i' the main however, as I was sayin' about the chicken, it was neither mair nor less than a bit howe-towdy that was deein' on its ain feet." Here Sandy Paterson, a weaver of homespun goods for the neighbourhood, took up his testimony in the debate" I daresay ye're no far wrang, Eppie; I hae wrought for the Gledstanes afore noo, and I fand baith the mistress and daughters aye jimp i' the waft, but keen eneugh in seekin' the lang measure. I doubt they'll do little for Nanny, although they may gie a capital preachin' on the needcessity o' practeesin' economy, and the beauty o' puir folk aye lippenin' to themselves. It sets them weel that never kenn'd what it was to want either a meltith o' meat, or siller to pit in their pouch, to set up their snash about economy and independ ence." "It's my puir opinion," observed Janet Culbertson, the wife of the village shoemaker, "that Nanny's friends should be written to on the subject. Bluid is aye thicker than water, and it will be a shame and disgrace if the relations o' the widow and fatherless bairn dinna noo come forward to help them. How. ever, i' the meantime it wadna be amiss to send to the minister, and Mr Monypenny the elder, to see if they'll no gie a trifle to keep soul and body thegither. What say ye till't, Andrew ?" "Me!" answered the party thus called upon for his opinion, a sort of humorist in his way-" me gie an opinion! ye ken that's impossible. We were tell'd by the papers, only last week, that naebody was fit to gie an opinion but them that were respectable; that was, then that ha'e siller; and of course, as I've nae siller, I canna be expecket to hae ony sense!" During the whole of this profitless, yet on the whole well-meant colloquy, Robin had sat without speaking, his elbow resting on the arm of his chair, and his head leaning upon the palm of his hand. Perhaps he was arranging in his own mind those thoughts to which he intended shortly to give utterance; and it might be that to this tact at arranging his ideas, so as to enable him to express them forcibly and fluently, he owed in a certain degree that superiority which he had acquired over the minds of others. Here, how ever, he could not keep his taciturnity much longer. The tailor's wife, taking upon herself the task of sum. ming up the evidence, and founding a motion upon the wisdom of the deliberative assembly, addressed him as follows:-" Robin, as ye can speak better than ony o' us, ye'll just step ower to the minister the morn afore ye gang to your wark, an tell him a' about it; an ye can ca' on Mr Monypenny as ye come hame; surely they'll never allow a decent industrious woman like Agnes Lindsay and her lassie to be starved aff the face o' the earth for want of assistance." "Hang me in a hempen tether, and that's a licht word on sic an occasion as this," said Robin, raising himself up in his chair as he spoke; "hang me if ever I wear my shoe soles gaun sic errands. Na, na, let them that are better acquainted wi' the grit folk than me gang an' solicit their charity, and maybe tak their taunts. But, hark ye, I'll tell ye what : I've lang been thinkin' o' gettin' a pair o' blue claith breeks for Sabbath-day's wear. I'll e'en content mysel' wi' corduroy, an' there will be at least ten shillings o' difference between the prices: that I gie freely. Meg, I've heard you for the last three months crackin' about a black veil; an', if I'm no mista'en, I heard ye say the tither day that ye had gotten siller to get it wi'; I ken nae use veils are for, except to conceal folk's faces after their owners hae grown ashamed o' them. But to the point: it wad cost ye a guinea; lay by sixteen shillings for some other purpose, and put aside five. Janet, you're intendin' to get a shawl for the preachings, I believe: ye may gong without a shawl as weel as my wife, an' mony a better woman than ye a-crown. baith; and in that case ye may easily spare half- In the course of the following week, Agnes Lindsay Agnes was now able to engage in such labour as the place afforded, and her little Eliza, or Lizzy, was growing up a thing of fairy loveliness. Like other children, she ran about during the day, but the house of honest Robin was her constant haunt in the even ings, and people even whispered that he was fonder of her than of his own children. This, no doubt, was false. But he knew that she, poor thing, wanted a father, and he wished, as much as possible, to prevent her from feeling the want. "Lizzy," he would say, drawing her towards him, clapping her little shoulder, and stroking her shining hair with his hand, "Lizzy, you may yet have plenty of fine clothes to put on, and plenty of money to spend; but you must never forget that you were once poor. You must remember, too, that, though you and a few others may be rich, there are still many poor people in the world to instruct and assist." To these observations this unostentatious moralist was probably prompted by the knowledge which he had of her mother's relations being farmers, and a latent hope that they might yet recognise the relationship, and provide for her coming into the world with better prospects than those which she in herited as a peasant's daughter. The sagacious foresight of Robin proved correct. The father and brothers of Agnes Lindsay, who, as she stated, were farmers, and in good circumstances at the time of her elopement, had risen to still greater opulence. They had enjoyed the benefit of those high prices for grain which were the consequence of the war; and from being farmers, they had become lairds or proprietors. But what was a thing of more consequence, their hearts had really mended with their fortunes, and they now began to think of acknow. ledging their disowned relation. She was traced out, and kindly invited to join them along with her daugh. ter at the west-country residence. She had, however, so many recollections to connect her with Hazelburn, that it were difficult to say if she would have accepted of this invitation, had it not been for the better prospects which it promised for Lizzy, and more than all, the earnest solicitations of Robin Ferguson, who in this reconciliation foresaw a comfortable asylum for her declining years. Brevity forbids that we should dwell on the parting scene. It was deeply affecting to all concerned, but to none more so than Lizzy, who appeared to feel bitterly the pang of separation from her early home and her old friends. After many tears and repeated shaking of hands, "and casting many a lingering look behind," Agnes and her daughter left Hazelburn. We must now leave these two individuals, who have occupied so considerable a portion of our story, to follow the history of Robin Ferguson. By this time the wants of an increasing family, the oldest of whom could scarcely as yet do any thing for their own support, had begun to press heavily upon him. And this, with the depressed state of wages, and the little prospect which existed of things growing better in this country, had made him turn his thoughts to America. To this he was farther induced by a small sum of money left him by an uncle lately dead, which he deemed might be laid out more profitably there than here. "There," he argued, "it would purchase an inheritance to his children-here it must go to sup ply them with the necessaries of life." Urged by these considerations, he resolved to make the experiment of crossing the Atlantic; and as soon as the necessary preparations could be made, he with his wife and family sailed for the Western World. The voyage we pass over. Storms, and calms, and fresh breezes, have been too often described to admit of any thing new being said of them; it was as most voyages are, a mixture of these; and after being the usual time at sea, they arrived safely in Canada. At that period a sort of mist and indistinctness hung over every thing connected with emigration. There were no accessible publications, as at the present day, from which the emigrant might collect all that it was ne cessary for him to know concerning the country, and the course he should take. As a natural consequence of this state of things, Robin Ferguson fell into the same error by which it would seem thousands of emigrants have been nearly ruined, or at least made uncomfortable for a great part of their lives, namely, bargaining for too much land, to be paid for by instalments, one of which was to become due every three years, while a certain rate of interest was to be demanded for what remained, till the whole was cleared off. Arrangements such as these, have, as we say, ruined many a hopeless settler in the "far west," and they also promised to destroy the hopes of the heroic Scottish peasant. Honest, hard-toiling Robin, with all his industry and ingenuity, and all the assistance of his family to boot, could not manage to liquidate the instalments as they became due. They consequently remained unpaid at a heavy rate of interest, which, like the lean kine, devoured the fat of all the labour that was exerted. To add to the misfortunes of the family, sickness over. took them; and this visitation tended considerably to diminish the general resources. Year after year passed away, and the hopes of the family nearly merged in despair. The bodily frame of the once muscular settler was now greatly impaired in strength and bulk. His height had diminished several inches, and his hair become nearly silver white. At last it was resolved, if a modification of terms could not be ob tained, to abandon the farm entirely; giving up as the penalty of non-payment, all that had been done in the way of improvement-a cruel but a necessary consequence of the terms of the original bargain. With a bent-down frame, and a heavy heart, the worthy man set out on his journey of many miles through the woods to visit the agent of the company which claimed the possession of his property. The way was long and toilsome; but the agent's place of residence was finally reached, and Robin was ushered into the office of the individual who was to determine whether he was to go forth as a servant of others in his declining years, or retain his possession on more easy terms. He soon saw the gentleman who was to be the arbiter of his fate. He was a Mr Ainsworth, who had recently arrived in the country to supersede an agent who had been withdrawn a short time before. The new functionary was a young man of respectable appearance and pleasing countenance; and as he kindly told his aged visitor to be seated, and tell him his case, something like a gleam of hope shot across old Robin's heart. The case was soon explained. Robin spoke with energy of all he had done for the ground, the clearings he had made in the dense forest, and of the cottage he had reared. 66 But," added he, "it is utterly impossible to make the two ends meet. We cannot procure money to pay the instalments, while the accumulating interest will soon entirely eat up the property. Remit the interest, and I will en deavour, by a partial sale of the cleared land, to redeem the burdens I so unfortunately took upon me." "Your case," answered Mr Ainsworth," is cer tainly distressing, but I am sorry to say I can do nothing to mitigate it; it is the case of many hundreds; my orders are imperative to enforce the terms of settlement. I can assure you I feel deeply for you. But I have no alternative. I am afraid you must prepare to vacate your lot." cidents in any other light than as direct punishments The land agent was proceeding to enforce the argument for the old settler quitting his farm, when the door of the office was opened by a young lady, the wife of Mr Ainsworth. "My dear," said she, inquiringly, "will you be long in being done with business? I am now ready to go, and James is bringing round the sleigh." "Oh yes, my dear," replied the husband, "I shall have done in an instant. Mr Fer-piness, seem to be founded in the inherent constitution guson, I am sorry-you see it is out of my power to of the human faculties, and the adaptation of the exdo any thing I therefore must wish you good morning ternal world to them; and not to depend on the will, there is nothing for it but that Lot 73, Concession the fancies, or the desires of man. B-Hazelburn as you call it must be sold." "Charles, Charles, what is all this I hear ?" said the lady hurriedly to her husband. Ferguson Hazelburn did you say?-why, who is this old man you are speaking to?-Oh gracious! my heart is like to burst!it is my own good Robin Ferguson!" With these words, and in the fondness of affection, did Mrs Ainsworth once the lovely little fairy being, Lizzy Lindsay-rush towards the bewildered, almost heartbroken Robin, and, seizing his hand, asked him if he had "forgot the poor orphan lassie that he had been so kind to at Hazelburn, in dear old Scotland." "Aih, my bonny leddy, is it possible that ye can be her that was ance my ain wee Lizzy? It surely canna be! Weel," looking at her more closely, "I daresay ye are her after a'. Aih sirs, aih sirs, siccan changes! Wha wad hae thocht to find you in this faraway country? But God be praised for a' his mercies! And how's your puir mother? Is she aye to the fore yet?" "Oh, my dear good Robin," replied the delighted Mrs Ainsworth, "you must not sit here any longer. You must come into the honse, and we shall hear all Come-comethe news of one another's families. Charles, my love; this is the worthy man I have often told you of who saved my poor mother from starvation and misery in the time of her heavy trials at Hazelburn he that attended to me in infancy as if I had been one of his own children. I owe him-we both owe him a heavy debt of gratitude, and let us now pay it as we are best able." Having unfolded several of the natural laws, and their effects, and having also attempted to show that each is inflexible and independent in itself, and requires absolute obedience (so that a man who neglects the physical law will suffer the physical punish. ment, although he may be very attentive to the moral law; that one who infringes the organic law will suf fer organic punishment, although he may obey the physical law; and that a person who violates the moral law will suffer the moral punishment, although he should observe the other two), I proceed to show the mutual relationship among these laws, and to adduce some instances of their joint operation. constitution of the world, and they preferred acting according to the suggestions of the propensities; that is to say, they waged furious wars, and committed wasting devastations on each other's properties and lives. It is obvious from history, that the two nations were equally ferocious, and delighted reciprocally in each other's calamities. This was clearly a violent appointment and vexation. Inattention to the moral infringement of the moral law; and one effect of it and intellectual law incapacitates us for obedience to was to render the possession of a stronghold an object the organic and physical laws; and sickness, pain, and of paramount importance. The hill on which the poverty overtake us. The whole scheme of creation, Old Town of Edinburgh is built, was naturally sur then, appears constituted for the purpose of enforcing | rounded by marshes, and presented a perpendicular obedience to the moral law: virtue, religion, and hap-front to the west, capable of being crowned with a castle. It was appropriated with avidity, and the metropolis of Scotland was founded there, obviously and undeniably under the inspiration purely of the animal faculties. It was fenced round with ramparts, built to exclude the fierce warriors who then inhabited the country lying south of the Tweed, and also to protect the inhabitants from the feudal banditti who infested their own soil. The space within the walls, however, was limited and narrow; the attractions to the spot were numerous; and to make the most of it, our ancestors erected the enormous masses of high, confused, and crowded buildings which now compose the High Street, and the wynds, or alleys, on its two sides. These abodes, moreover, were constructed, to a great extent, of timber; for not only the joists and floors, but the partitions between the rooms, were made of massive wood. Our ancestors did all this in the The defective administration of justice is a fertile perfect knowledge of the physical law, that wood igsource of human suffering in all countries; yet it isnited by fire not only is consumed itself, but envelopes surprising how rude are the arrangements which are in inevitable destruction every combustible object with. still in use, even in a free and enlightened country, in its influence. Farther, their successors, even when for accomplishing this important end. the necessity for close building had ceased, persevered frequently presents the following particulars for obin the original error; and, though well knowing that every year added to the age of such fabrics, increased servation. It consists of twelve men, eight or ten of their liability to burn, they not only allowed them to whom are collected from the country, within a dis- be occupied as shops filled with paper, spirits, and tance of twenty or thirty miles of the capital. These other highly combustible materials, but let the upper individuals hold the plough, wield the hammer or the floors for brothels-introducing thereby into the heart hatchet, or carry on some other useful and respectable of this magazine of conflagration the most reckless and but laborious occupation, for six days in the week. immoral of mankind. The consummation was the Their muscular systems are in constant exercise, and two tremendous fires in the month of November their brains are rarely called on for any great exertion. 1824, which consumed the Parliament Square and a They are not accustomed to read, beyond the Bible portion of the High Street, destroying property to the and a weekly newspaper; they are still less in the extent of many thousands of pounds, and spreading habit of thinking; and in general they live much in misery and ruin over a considerable part of the popu the open air. lation of Edinburgh. Wonder, consternation, and awe, were forcibly excited at the vastness of the cala mity; and in the sermons that were preached, and the of the inscrutable ways of Providence, that sent such dissertations that were written upon it, much was said visitations on the people, enveloping the innocent and the guilty in one common sweep of destruction. A Scotch Jury in a civil cause, even in Edinburgh, Charles Ainsworth was a good young man, and deIn this condition they are placed in a jury-box at votedly attached to his wife. He therefore very readily agreed to Mr Ferguson's terms. Explanations ten in the morning, after having travelled probably were then given on both sides. Lizzy, it appeared, counsel address long speeches to them; numerous witfrom seven to twenty-five miles to reach the court: had lost her mother, and, afterwards, while paying a visit at Glasgow, had met Mr Ainsworth, who married nesses are examined; and the cause is branched out her, and took her with him to Canada, where he had into complicated details of fact, and wire-worn distinctions in argument. The court is a small and illbeen appointed to an official situation of considerable responsibility. Old Robin suppressed a sigh on learnventilated apartment, and in consequence is generally ing the fate of the widow, but brightened up on hear-crowded and over-heated. Without being allowed to ing of the good fortune and happiness of his darling Lizzy. That night and part of the next day were spent in the reciprocation of the most cordial feelings between these two old friends, and next day, laden with affectionate regards to all his family, and many little presents besides, he took his way to his distant farm. OPERATION OF THE LAWS OF NATURE. THE following observations of Mr Combe, in his work on the Constitution of Man, relative to the connexion subsisting between the moral and natural laws, and their joint operation in the common concerns of life, are exceedingly worthy of being made the subject of reflection : "It has been objected that such punishments as the breaking of an arm by a fall, are often so disproportionately severe, that, in appointing them, the Creator must have had in view some other and more important object than that of making them serve as mere motives to the observance of the physical laws; and that that object must be to influence the mind of the sufferer, and draw his attention to concerns of higher import. breathe fresh air or to take exercise or food, they are There is here a tissue of errors which could not ex- in training them to the exercise of their mental fa- In answer I remark, that the human body is liable to destruction by severe injuries; and that the degree of suffering, in general, bears a just proportion to the danger connected with the transgression. Thus, a slight surfeit is attended only with headache or general uneasiness, because it does not endanger life; a fall on any muscular part of the body is In these instances there are evident infringements followed either with no pain, or with only a slight of the organic and moral laws. The proper remedies indisposition, for the reason that it is not seriously in-will be found in educating the people more effectually, jurious to life; but when a leg or arm is broken, the pain is intensely severe, because the bones of these limbs stand high in the scale of utility to man. The human body is so framed that it may fall nine times and suffer little damage, but the tenth time a limb may be broken, which will entail a painful chastisement. By this arrangement the mind is kept alive to danger to such an extent as to insure general safety, while at the same time it is not overwhelmed with terror by punishments too severe and too fre-lowing light:-The Creator constituted England and quently repeated. In particular states of the body, a slight wound may be followed by inflammation and death; but these are the results not simply of the wound, but of a previous derangement of health, occasioned by departures from the organic laws. On the whole, therefore, no adequate reason appears for regarding the consequences of physical ac Another example of the combined operation of the natural laws is afforded by the great fires which occurred in Edinburgh in November 1824, when the Parliament Square and a part of the High Street were consumed. That calamity may be viewed in the folScotland with such qualities, and placed them in such relationship, that the inhabitants of both kingdoms would be most happy in acting towards each other, and pursuing their separate vocations, under the supremacy of the moral sentiments. We have lived to see this practised, and to reap the reward. But the ancestors of the two nations did n believe in this According to the exposition of the ways of Provi. dence which I have ventured to give, there was nothing wonderful, nothing vengeful, nothing arbitrary, in the whole occurrence. The only reason for sur prise was, that it did not take place generations before. The necessity for these fabrics originated in gross violation of the moral law; they were constructed in high contempt of the physical law; and, latterly, the moral law was set at defiance, by placing in them inhabitants abandoned to the worst habits of recklessness and intoxication. The Creator had bestowed on men faculties to perceive all this, and to avoid the calamity, whenever they chose to exert them; and the destruc. tion that ensued was the punishment of following the propensities, in preference to the dictates of intellect and morality. The object of the destruction, as a na tural event, was to lead men to avoid repetition of the offences: but the principles of the divine government are not yet comprehended. Acquisitiveness whispers that more money may be made of houses consisting of five or six floors under one roof, than of houses con. sisting of only two or three; and erections the very counterparts of the former, have since reared their heads on the spot where the others stood, and, sooner or later, they also will be overtaken by the natural laws, which never slumber or sleep. The true method of arriving at a sound view of calamities of this kind, is to direct our attention, in the first instance, to the law of nature, from the operation of which they have originated; then to find out the uses and advantages of that law, when observed; and to discover whether or not the evils under consideration have arisen from violation of it. In the present instance, we ought never to lose sight of the fact, that the houses in question stood erect, and the furniture in safety, by the very same law of gravitation which made them topple to the foundation when it was infringed; and that mankind enjoy all the benefits which result from the combustibility of the timber as fuel, by the very same law which makes it, when un. duly ignited, the food of a destructive conflagration. Another example may be given. Men, by uniting under one leader, may, in virtue of the social law, acquire prodigious advantages to themselves, which singly they could not obtain; and, as formerly stated, the condition under which the benefits of that law are permitted is, that the leader shall know and obey the natural laws connected with his enterprise: If he neglect these, then the same principle which gives the social body the benefit of his observing them, involves it in the punishment of his infringement; and this is just, because, under the natural law, the leader must necessarily be chosen by his followers, and they are responsible for not attending to his natural qualities. Some illustrations of the consequences of ne glect of this law may be stated, in which the mixed operation of the physical and moral laws will appear. During the French war, a squadron of English ships was sent to the Baltic with military stores, and, in returning home up the North Sea, they were beset, for two or three days, by a thick fog. It was about the middle of December, and no correct knowledge of their exact situation was possessed. Some of the commanders proposed lying-to all night, and proceeding only during day, to avoid running ashore unawares. The commodore was exceedingly attached to his wife and family, and, stating his determination to pass Christmas with them in England if possible, ordered that the ships should sail straight on their voyage. The very same night they all struck on a sand-bank off the coast of Holland; two ships of the line were dashed to pieces, and every man on board perished. The third ship, drawing less water, was forced over the bank by the waves and stranded on the beach; the crew was saved, but led to a captivity of many years' duration. Now, these vessels were destroyed under the physical laws; but this calamity owed its origin to the predominance of the animal over the moral and intellectual faculties in the commodore. The gratification which he sought to obtain was individual and selfish; and if his Benevolence, Veneration, Conscientiousness, and Intellect, had been as alert as his domestic affections, and carried as forcibly home to his mind the welfare of the men under his charge as that of his own family; nay, if these faculties had been sufficiently alive to see the danger to which he exposed even his own life, and the happiness of his wife and children-he never could have followed the precipitate course which consigned himself, and so many brave men, to a watery grave, within a few hours after his resolution was formed. The correspondent (Mr Stevenson, civil engineer) informs us, that having occasion, towards the conclusion of his voyage, in the beginning of September last, to visit the Isle of Man, he beheld the interesting spectacle of about three hundred large fishing-boats, each from fifteen to twenty tons' burden, leaving their va rious harbours at that island in an apparently fine afternoon, and standing directly out to sea, with the intention of prosecuting the fishery under night. He at the same time remarked, that both the common marine barometer, and Adie's sympiesometer, which were in the cabin of his vessel, indicated an approaching change of weather, the mercury falling to 29.5 inches. It became painful, therefore, to witness the scene; more than a thousand industrious fishermen, lulled to security by the fineness of the day, scattering their little barks over the face of the ocean, and thus rushing forward to imminent danger, or probable destruction. At sunset, accordingly, the sky became cloudy and threatening, and in the course of the night it blew a very hard gale, which afterwards continued for three days successively. This gale completely dispersed the fleet of boats, and it was not without the utmost difficulty that many of them reached the various creeks of the island. It is believed no lives were lost on this occasion; but the boats were damaged, much tackle was destroyed, and the men were unnecessarily exposed to danger and fatigue. During the same storm, it may be remarked, thirteen vessels were either totally lost or stranded between the Isle of Anglesey and St Bee's Head in Lancashire. Mr Stevenson remarks how much it is to be regretted that the barometer is so little in use in the mercantile marine of Great Britain, compared with the trading vessels of Holland; and observes, that though the common marine barometer is perhaps too cumbersome for the ordinary run of fishing and coasting vessels, yet Adie's sympiesometer is so extremely portable, that it may be carried even in a Manx boat. Each lot of such vessels has a commodore, under whose orders the fleet sails: it would therefore be a most desirable thing that a sympiesometer should be attached to each commodore's boat, from which a preconcert Some years ago, the Ogle Castle East Indiaman was offered a pilot coming up the Channel, but the captain refused assistance, professing his own skill to be sufficient. In a few hours the ship ran aground on a sand-bank, and every human being on board perished in the waves. This accident also arose from the physical laws, but the unfavourable operation of it sprang from Self-Esteem, pretending to knowledge which the intellect did not possess; and as it is only by employed signal of an expected gale or change of weather, ing the latter that obedience can be yielded to the as indicated by the sympiesometer, could easily be physical laws, the destruction of the ship was indi- given." rectly the consequence of the infringement of the moral and intellectual laws. An old sailor, whom I met on the Queensferry passage, told me that he had been nearly fifty years at sea, and once was in a fifty-gun ship in the West Indies. The captain, he said, was a "fine man;" he knew the climate, and foresaw a hurricane coming, by its natural signs;-on one occasion, in particular, he struck the topmasts, lowered the yards, lashed the guns, and made each man supply himself with food for thirty-six hours; and scarcely was this done when the hurricane came. The ship lay for four hours on her beam-ends in the water, but all was prepared; the men were kept in vigour during the storm, and fit for every exertion; the ship at last righted, suffered little damage, and proceeded on her voyage. The fleet which she convoyed was dispersed, and a great number of the ships foundered. Here we see the benefits accruing from the supremacy of the moral and intellectual faculties, and discover to what a surprising extent these present a guarantee even against the fury of the phy sical elements in their highest state of agitation. A striking illustration of the kind of protection afforded by high moral and intellectual qualities, even amidst the most desperate physical circumstances, is RIDING THE STANG. TILL a recent period, it was customary both in England and Scotland to inflict a popular and extra-judicial punishment upon persons who had committed outrages on public decency, by mounting them a-straddle upon a beam or pole, and thus parading them through the streets, two persons supporting the beam upon their shoulders, while a third proclaimed the guilt of the offender. Men who were notorious for beating their wives, and wives who exercised an undue and rigorous ascendancy over their husbands, and in general all who offended conspicuously against the prevailing sense of propriety, whatever that might be, and yet were exempt from the touch of the laws, were treated in this manner, the females being usually allowed the privilege of sitting in a basket, "in com pliment," says a writer in the Gentleman's Magazine, "to the use of side-saddles." Brockett, in his Glos is that of a village debauch, consequent upon a wedding:. The smith's wife her black deary sought, And fand him skin and birn ;* Quoth she, "this day's wark's be dear bought." Ca'd her a jaud, and said she might "Ye'll wind a pirn, ye silly snool! On sic a day." "Your tippanizing, scant-o'-grace," A gilpy that had seen the faught, Till he had gathered seven or eight On her that day. We have now to introduce a very curious document on this subject, which was recently brought to light. It is the "Complaint of Ann Johnston and others of Huntly," against Mr John Fraser, husband to unto the much-honoured the Baillie of the Regality Ann Johnston, and "humbly shows" as follows: furnished by the following letter, written by the late sary of North-Country Words, says it was resorted to seeing your petitioners are informed that said Fraser I Admiral Lord Exmouth to a friend. 'Why do you in the case of "persons who followed their occupations ask me to relate the wreck of the Dutton?' says during particular festivals or holidays, or at prohibited his lordship. Susan (Lady Exmouth) and I were times when there was a stand or combination amongst driving to a dinner-party at Plymouth, when we saw workmen." According to this writer, it is not yet crowds running to the Hoe; and learning it was a wreck, I left the carriage to take her on, and joined altogether disused in the north of England, particuthe crowd. I saw the loss of the whole five or six larly among the boys, who, "when they cannot lay hundred men was inevitable without somebody to di- hold of the culprit himself, cause one of their number rect them, for the last officer was pulled on shore as to mount the stang in his place, and proclaim his I reached the surf. I urged their return, which was crime in which case the ceremony is attended with refused; upon which I made the rope fast to myself, the same tumultuous cries, if not with increased shouts and was hauled through the surf on board-established order, and did not leave her until every soul was saved of acclamation. When the object is to punish a vi but the boatswain, who would not go before me. rago who has overpowered the manhood of her husgot safe, and so did he, and the ship went all to pieces.' band, a neighbour mounts, and goes through the There is reason to believe that the human intelceremony in the same fashion, sometimes lamenting lect will, in time, be able, by means of science and the case of his henpecked friend in doggrel rhyme. observation, to arrive at a correct anticipation of ap. proaching storms, and thus obtain protection against Malcolm, in his Anecdotes of London, relates an intheir effects. The New Zealanders, it is said, predict cident of this kind, which took place in the metropolis the changes of the weather with extraordinary skill. in 1697. The offender was a porter's wife, who had "One evening, when Captain Cruise and some of beaten her husband so unmercifully, that he was fain his friends were returning from a long excursion up to leap out of a window to escape her fury. The proone of the rivers, although the sky was at the time without a cloud, a native who sat in the boat with cession was headed by a drum, and accompanied by a them, remarked that there would be heavy rain the lady's inner garment as a banner, while about seventy next day; a prediction which they were the more in-coalheavers, carmen, and porters, followed, collecting clined to believe, by finding, when they returned on board the ship, that the barometer had fallen very much, and which the deluge of the following morning completely confirmed."* The utility of the marine barometer, or the sympiesometer, in indicating approaching storms, is strikingly shown by the following extract from the Edinburgh Philosophical Journal. • Library of Entertaining Knowledge; The New Zealanders, P. 391. money from the crowd. It would appear that, in Scotland, the vicarial mode of the stang was much in vogue a century ago, as Allan Ramsay, in a note to his Christ's Kirk on the Green, describes the ceremony as taking place in that manner, without the least allusion to any other. As the passage of the poem which gives occasion to this note contains a remarkably characteristic description of a riding of the stang, we may present it in this place. -premising that the time "That upon the 11th of January instant (1734) the said Mr John Fraser did, under cloud of night, most inhumanly and barbarously beat and bruise Ann Johnston, his said spouse, to the effusion of her blood and great hazard and peril of her life. And not only then, but it is his constant practice, as can be attested by serwalls of the neighbourhead, who have divirs and sundry times risen from their beds at midnight, and has rescued her out of his merciless hands, or she had been most miserably butchered by him. And has given in ane information to your lordshipe against some of our good neighbours, who upon Saturday last being the twelth instant went to his house, alleadging such cases), but, to our certain knowledge, with no they would cause him ride the stang (use and wont in other design than to fright and deter him from his villanous and cruel usage of his said spouse in all time coming:-May it therefore please your lordshipe to take this, our more than most lamentable case, into your most serious consideration, by granting a toleration to the stang, which has not only ever been practicable in this place, but in most parts of this kingdome, being wee know no act of Parliament to the contrair: or else, if your lordship can fall upon a more prudent method, wee most humbly beg your opinion for prethe least disobligement given, we must expect to fall venting more fatal consequences. Otherways, upon victims to our husbands' displeasure, from which libera nos, Domine! (Signed) Ann Johnston, Agnes Scot, Lilles Gordon, Elizabeth Boigie, Jen Guthrie, Janet Roy, Barbara Jessiman, Grizell Allan, Janet Forsyth, Agnes Gordon, Isobal Kemp." It appears from further documents, that the petitioners, being disappointed of the object of their application, soon after took the law in their own hands, and violently attackt the person of the said John Fraser, in the face of the sun, about three in the afternoon, tore his clothes, and abused his person by carrying him in a publick manner through the town of Huntly upon a tree;" for which outrage they were punished by fine, and obliged to find caution. The With all the marks of her drunken husband about him. † A proverbial expression of malicious threatening. We have always considered this as one of the best descriptive verses in any language, and regret that its merits cannot be fully intelligible to the English reader. |
