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James's accession to the throne of England, after a lapse of nearly half a century, she some nobleman, (I presume an ancestor of is still remembered and talked of by many the Lords Raby,) begged a grant of the castle at Staindrop, where she lived and died, with from his majesty, representing it to be mere- feelings of the most affectionate and reverenly a great heap of stones. Whether it had tial regard. It was at her own request, exfallen to the crown by forfeiture, or other pressed while she was yet in health, and in wise, I know not; nor have I the present accordance with her humble and pious chameans of satisfying myself. I merely give racter, that she was buried in that proscribed the anecdote as I heard it. The king com- part of the churchyard, which had then not plied with the request: but when his majesty received the remains of even one solitary afterwards saw the place, on his way to Lon- pauper. She not only knew, but felt, that don, he thus addressed the nobleman who death levels all distinctions. Her example had obtained the grant from him, "Gude has had a beneficial effect, and the dust of troth, my lord, ca' ye this a hurrock o' many is now gathered around hers, and stanes? By my faith, mon, I hae hardly sic resting in the same hope of a joyful resurrecanither hurrock in a' my realm." However tion.

this may be, it is quite certain, (for it became

I have in my possession a tortoise-shell matter of public litigation,) that about a hun- tablet, beautifully inlaid with flowers of gold, dred years afterwards, Lord Raby, the then which was presented by Mrs. Raby Vane, a owner, or at least tenant for life of the castle, short period before her death, to a highly having conceived some displeasure against valued friend. I have likewise a letter, adhis eldest son, on whom it was settled after dressed by her to the same friend, which is him, showed a determination to reduce it to so characteristic of her excellent heart, that that hurrock-like state, in which it was sup- I cannot refrain from transcribing it. It is posed to be when it was begged, (according written in the fine Italian kind of hand which to the anecdote,) from "good King James." was so fashionable at that period. The angry father began to strip the lead from the roof, and to dismantle the walls; when he was stopped in the work of devastation "To give you a better night than the last, I by the timely intervention of the Court of will state the present things on a higher conChancery. This may at least be recorded as sideration than sublunary views. Consider, one of the good deeds of that rather unpopu- that it has pleased God, in his mercy, to lar court. The destruction of such a castle place me in a situation, for six months in evas that of Raby might almost be considered ery year, free from essential temptations to as a national loss. sin: that he gives me affluence and reputa

"MY DEAR FRIEND:

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knowledge of spiritual hopes and trust. Knowing what is best for me, he has taken from me what is vulgarly called my lovers and my neighbors, leaving only yourself and your husband, who understand me, who love me, and to whom I can speak my whole heart, which is cordial sufficient. If things were more easy, I should be tempted to sloth. If my exertions brought their fruition, I should be tempted to pride. If my household were all saints, beatitude would be dangerous, for heaven is its place, and eternity is its time. As it is, I have a work to perform, and my wages are remitted to my place of rest. I am assisted during my task; and the blessing in the end will be given, at the great day, by the hand of Him who redeemed me, and (I trust) all around me. That this view of things may relieve the anxiety you kindly feel on my account, is the earnest desire of

Sore years ago, the records and legends tion, ease of body, activity of mind, and connected with it were chosen as the subject of a well-written and interesting romance, "The Rose of Raby," by a lady, to whom I had the pleasure of being introduced when I was last in that neighborhood. She was at that time resident at Staindrop, one of the most beautiful villages in the North of England, and only about a mile from Raby, the park belonging to which borders the whole extent of the place, and is both a great ornament to it, and likewise a shelter from the north. The church of Staindrop is an ancient and extremely handsome pile, and was originally of a collegiate character. Here repose the ashes of several of the Nevilles, once Earls of Westmoreland and Lords of Raby. There are some of their effigies or full-length figures cut in stone, lying in the church, near the entrance, and in remarkably good preservation. They have their legs crossed, to signify that they had fought in the "holy wars.' I believe there is a tradition still extant, that at Staindrop was once a royal residence, of one of the Saxon kings. Behind the church,-mark, reader, behind Mrs. Vane was the widow of the Honorathe church, and on the northern, neglected, ble Raby Vane, an uncle of the present Duke and for.nerly despised portion of the burial- of Cleveland. She was called into eternity ground, rest the truly hallowed remains of in the most sudden, but happily not in an unthe Honorable Mrs. Raby Vane. She was a prepared manner; for her whole life had woman of extraordinary piety, as well as of superior mental endowments. Her charity was not only extensive, but judicious; and

* A heap.

"Your affectionate friend, "ELIZABETH VANE." "Staindrop Hall, Saturday Evening."

been a gradual and constant preparation for that awful change. She had been dining at at Raby Castle, with the then Earl and Countess of Darlington, on the very day of her death. She had been unconsciously paying,

what proved to be her last farewell visit to within a very short time after his father's them; and expired almost immediately after death, expended nearly two hundred thousand her return home. I find the melancholy pounds upon Brancepeth Castle. He did not, event noted down in pencil, on one of the however, live to enjoy the fruits of his labors. ivory leaves of the tablet, by the friend I He had hardly completed the costly and exhave before alluded to, in the following sim- tensive improvements on which he had been ple terms. so anxiously engaged, when he was called away from all the luxuries of life, and the fleeting things of time, to an eternal and unchangeable state. This is one of the everyday lessons which are constantly passing around us, and from which we may all learn wisdom if we will.

"This dear friend departed this painful life, at half-past ten at night, after dining at the Castle, on May 28, 1789."

Brancepeth Castle* differs very materially in its character from that of Raby, but is equally a splendid memorial of the old feudal times. It was purchased some years ago Being so immediately in the vicinity of by the late William Russell, Esq., grandfa- Rokeby it would have been inexcusable to ther of the present owner. Mr. Russell be- neglect the opportunity of visiting a place came the proprietor of the celebrated "Walls- not only immortalized by the genius of Scott, end colliery," which was the foundation of but destined by Nature herself for more than the immense wealth of which he died pos- a literary immortality. It is one of those sessed. It is said, and I believe without spots that, once seen, can never be forgotten. much exaggeration, that, for some years, the The mansion itself, which is comparatively colliery yielded him a clear profit of a thou- of moderate date, has nothing very remarkasand pounds a week. He not only purchased ble to recommend it, but the park and grounds Brancepeth Castle, with the domain attached, are uncommonly beautiful. There still but several other fine estates in the north of stands Earl Motham's tower, venerable for England. Brancepeth was his almost con- its antiquity; and at a little distance from it, stant residence, where he lived to a good old where once stood the church, are scattered age, in the prudent and unostentatious style the tombs and simple stones under which of a plain country gentleman. On his decease, his son, the late Major Russell, who "The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep." for many years represented the borough of They form indeed a singular and highly-inSaltash, in Cornwall, expended very large teresting feature within the inclosure of a sums of money in the repairs and decoration gentleman's park. While I was gazing upon of the castle. Its outward appearance is ex- these memorials of other times, a beautiful ceedingly grand and venerable; while inte- autumnal sun shone upon the lettered and riorly, all that good taste and lavish expendi- moss-grown stones, which, shrouding the longture could accomplish, has been done, to ren- forgotten dead, seemed to mock the vivifying der it one of the most splendid and commo- influence. The junction of the rivers Tees dious mansions in the country. All is in the and Greta is highly romantic, and seems worhighest style of embellishment, yet still in ad- thy to have been celebrated as the true mirable keeping with the gothic character of "meeting of the waters." But it is needless the building. The doors and window-shutters are of the fine veined, or gnarled oak, I believe from the root of the tree; and in the principal rooms, the window-panes are enriched with beautiful paintings, which glow in the sun-light with all the colors of the rainbow, and to which the chaste sober hue of the walls, hung with fine drab, or steelcolored cloth, forms a good contrast. In the armory is a large window of stained glass, representing the battle of "Neville's Cross," which was fought in the immediate vicinity of Durham, and only about four miles from Brancepeth Castle. It will be remembered that this great victory was gained by Queen Philippa, over the Scotch king, in the absence of Edward; and that David was taken prisoner.

A rude cross of stone by the road-side, about half a mile from Durham, still serves to point out to the passing traveller the scene of one of the bloodiest encounters that ever took place between the once rival nations, now happily united in the bonds of a true fraternity. It is said, that Major Russell,

to add more, upon a place and a subject so thoroughly known. Rokeby, when I saw it, furnished a striking instance of the melanchory consequences of a title becoming separated from the estates which ought to support it. The then Lord Rokeby (who is recently dead) was living, at that time, with one servant at an obscure farmhouse in the neighborhood.

A similar fate seems to have attended Streatlam Castle, which is about five miles from Rokeby. The late Earl of Strathmore left this and his other estates, both in England and Scotland, to the amount of thirty thousand a year, to his natural son, to the total exclusion of his brother, the present earl, a man of most amiable and estimable character. It is painful to reflect, that the representative of one of the most ancient and illustrious families in the Scotch peerage, and one who, it is said, dignifies and adorns his high rank by his personal virtues, should thus be cut off from the means of properly supporting that title which was his inalienable birthright, and of which no unfraternal act could by possibility deprive him.

It was from Streatlam Castle that the noto*Originally Brown's path, or the path of the rious Stoney Bowes, who, about fifty years

wild boar.

ago, married the then Countess of Strath

the reports of the day. If the world were disposed to judge charitably, I think the want of all softness and sensibility in the character of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu might very well account for the little hold she appears to have had upon her husband's heart.

more, took her away by force, and carried abroad; for I do not believe that there was her over the country, treating her in the most ever anything authentic or well-founded that barbarous manner, for the purpose of com- could impeach her honor, though her separapelling her to give up to him her settled pro- tion from Mr. Wortley, on their return from perty. The cruelties which he exercised Constantinople, might seem to give a color to made a great sensation at the time. Many of the neighbors mounted and rode about in every direction, in order to rescue her, if possible, from his power. Various interesting anecdotes are told of this flight and pursuit by persons who still remember all the circumstances; and the name of "Stoney Bowes" is, to this day, execrated in the neighborhood, as proverbial of everything that is base, selfish, and cruel. He did not escape wholly without punishment; for he lived and died within the walls of a prison.

Of that highly-distinguished female, Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, we are likely soon to have some further and, of course, authentic particulars, from the pen of Lord Wharncliffe. I have no doubt that, in the life of Lady Mary, which is to accompany the forthcoming edition of her correspondence, his lordship will render full justice to the memory of his illustrious relative,* and that he will acquit himself of the task he has undertaken with that skill, sound judgment, and integrity, which we have a right to expect from his well-known character. The great number, too, of additional letters which his lordship is about to give to the world, will, probably, clear up many points which have hitherto been left merely to conjecture; and we well know the tortuous and one-sided course which conjecture generally pursues.

Learned women are rarely what nature intended our sex to be,-fixed stars in the heaven of home. And, however we may admire the brilliant talents and classical erudition of those gifted females who occasionally rove out of the beaten track, we must, in all candor, admit, that blue stockings are not alto. gether the most becoming wear for a wife. Those softer spirits that never venture to dispute with man his right to "the delectable land" of abstruse learning are the most to be envied.* Man is the bold Atlas that poises the world, woman but the silken thread or soft fillet that ties up the flowers or binds the wounds of life.

I remember my grandmother told me, that going one day to visit her brother, she was astonished to see, seated on the ground on cushions, and closely wrapt up in furs, a little old woman, whom Lady Bute introduced as her mother. Without a vestige of former beauty or a lingering grace left, my grandmother said she could scarcely bring herself to believe that the withered face and wasted form, bent double by time,t was the once celebrated beauty whose wit and learning had filled even the classical soul of Pope with envy.

There is no doubt that Lady Mary and her husband but little accorded with each other in temper or pursuits. From the lips of several members of Lord Bute's family, I have Lady Wortley Montagu had an ever-living heard various anecdotes of her domestic in- sorrow in her only son; a man of wild, ecfelicity, more particularly from my grand-centric character, and who, it appears, evinced mother, whose brother married her daughter. a total want of feeling towards those ties most Lady Mary herself was by no means a mere hallowed of God and nature. Such was the every-day character, as her letters testify. conduct he observed to his sister, Lady Bute, She had a keen wit and a brilliant intellect. that the last act of his life was directed with Her mind was highly cultivated, and she was a view to wrong her out of the property which devoted to literature, and, at that period, it would be hers by right at his demise. For, could hardly be expected that she would find being taken ill at Pisa, he wrote over to Engmany that were congenial with her amongst land for a pregnant woman (a perfect stranher own sex and rank. Mr. Wortley had ger) to be sent to him in order that by marrymarried her beauty, and not her gifts and ac- ing her, her child (being born in wedlock) complishments; and mere beauty often ceases might inherit his estates. The woman was to attract even before it has ceased to be at- actually sent, and arrived in Italy, but, fortractive. Her matrimonial lot (the most in- tunately, not in time for the success of this fluential upon the life and conduct of woman) nefarious scheme, for Wortley Montagu was was, therefore, cast in an uncongenial clime. dead. His first exploit was when he was a Her filial pleasures, also, seem not to have boy at Westminster School, from which he been without alloy; the Countess of Bute, ran away, and exchanged clothes with a though a pious and most estimable woman, sweep, and, thus disguised, went to clean a but who was more devoted to her domestic chimney. A droll anecdote is current in our duties than to literature, frequently rebuked family, of his descending by another flue into her talented mother for devoting her latter an adjoing house, and being fatigued with his days to it. We cannot, therefore, be justly novel employment, he sought repose, by desurprised that she spent so much of her life

Lord Wharncliffe is the great-grandson of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu; his grandfather, John, Earl of Bute, the prime minister, having married the only daughter of Lady M. W. Montagu.

It would not appear that Lady Mary thought her own education the best adapted to insure happiness, as she gave her daughter one in direct opposition to it.

+ Lady Mary was then seventy years of age.

positing himself, in his sooty apparel, on dy Jane ever did in her life, to come to this the fine white coverlid of an elegant bed. beggarly hole: canna ye persuade your Here the lady's maid, who had been in the mither, Mistress Montagu, to live, as becomes habit of purloining her mistress's sweetmeats, her, at the hoose in London, which her brother discovered him; and taking him for another offered her?" What a contrast between this black personage, the devil, (as she declared,) unengaging specimen of pride and meanness, she fell upon her knees, and confessing her and the meek, charitable, and saint-like misdeed, promised never to visit the store- woman, who, in this peaceful seclusion, recloset again, if he would not take her away mote from the gay and busy world, was devoting the residue of her well-spent life to "alms and good deeds," and the extensive service of her glorious Creator.

with him.

The most beautiful likeness I ever saw of Lady Wortley Montagu, was shown me by the late Countess of Lonsdale, who was both Lady Betty had an humble servant always her grand and god-daughter. There was at her side, in the shape of a domestic chapmore of mind, and less of voluptuousness, than lain. "Old Du Tong," as we always called in that by Sir Godfrey Kneller, and far more him, (but whether it was Du Ton, or Du sweetness and amiability of expression, than Temp, or what the true authography might in the miniature by Zinck. Amongst the pic- be, I know not,) was just that sort of being tures of my father's family at Lackham that the rich proud man loves to have always House, we had a fine portrait of Lady M. W. as his shadow; who, in expectation of Montagu in her Turkish turban; and a full. verifying the scriptural saying, that, "he that length likeness of her husband, likewise in a that is last shall be first," is contented to splendid Oriental dress. The brocade, or tis- take the lowest place at the dinner table; sue of the robe, was of a peculiar pattern, and and to be the echo of the sayings, and the very brilliant colors; and, in the old iron eulogist of the virtues, of his patron. “Yes, chest that contained our family relics, I found my la-ady;" "Very true, my la-ady" "As a lady's needle-case, made out of a bit of the you say, my la-ady;" were almost the only identical robe in which Mr. Wortley Montagu words, my mother said, she ever heard drop was painted; which I gave to Captain Wat- from his lips, and that, too, in such a drawling son, a great antiquarian. tone of deference and adulation, as never Lady Mary did not like the family her failed to gratify the inordinate pride and daughter married into, and, to some of its mem- self-love of Lady Betty. Happy Du Tong! bers, she showed an invincible dislike. Lady thy patient labors, and noble resignation of Mary was a woman of great penetration, and the rights of man to speak and think for himwell skilled in the tact of sifting character. self, were crowned with golden success! At Lady Betty Campbell, who married my grand- the death of his patron, fifteen thousand mother's youngest brother, Mr. Stuart Mack-pounds, and many costly jewels, were left to enzie, she saw through at a glance, and pro- the worthy chaplain of my pious grand uncle, nounced her, untried, what she proved upon, trial, to be. Never was there exhibited, in frail human nature, a better sample of family pride, starched formality, and heart-chilling parsimony. Whenever I would depict the character of forbidding old age, I would take her for my model. Though Mr. Mackenzie was immensely rich, and had lost both his children, Lady Betty continued her frugal habits, often wearing a patched satin gown; while her waiting woman was obliged, when she had a new one of her own, to take it off before she ventured into my lady's presence, for fear of a long sermon upon extravagance. I can just remember Mr. Stuart Macken- To what years of exile, and days of isolazie and Lady Betty coming to Bath. My tion from all the ties of home and country, beloved grand-mother had a house, at that was the lovely Lady Ann Stuart, daughter of time, in the immediate neighborhood, her sole Lord Bute, condemned, through one fatal object being to reside near the spot, where lapse, originating in a too early and unconreposed the ashes of the husband she had genial marriage! Both parents and children idolised in life, and where she intended herself in every rank of life ought to take warning to rest at last. My mother accompanied them from this and many a similar example. Lady to see my grandmother: and so strong was Ann's unfortunate union with the Duke of the pride of aristocracy in the aged supporter Northumberland, like too many marriages in of the dignity of the Campbells, that, when high life, was made up between the families, the family coach drew up to the door of my when the bride elect was too young to be grandmother's rural and retired abode, and consulted, or at least to judge properly for the two powdered lacqueys stood, one on herself. She was not "out of the nursery," each side, to honor the descent of so august to use the phrase, when Earl Percy proposed a personage, Lady Betty could restrain her- for her hand. Lord Bute himself felt the obself no longer, but broke out in her usual jection, and would have greatly preferred broad Scotch :-"It was the warst thing Led-seeing his elder daughter, (Lady Jane, after-.

the bulk of whose property went to his favorite nephew, Mr. Stuart Wortley, the father of Lord Wharncliffe, who better deserved the gifts of fortune, as he allowed others to participate in them-a virtue which, I believe, his son inherits.

Indeed, it may be said, that the character of the Scotch aristocracy, once perhaps more intolerable than any for the "pride of gentle blood," is of late years very rapidly changing for the better; and humility and charity have become the Penates of many an ancient house, that once worshipped only the two hideous deities-Pride and Penuriousness.

wards Countess of Macartney,) the wife of Lord Percy. He therefore stated, in answer to the proposal, that he thought" Lady Jane would suit him better, Lady Ann being too young" but Lord Percy replied, "Not at all! I can mould her all the better to my own way of thinking." Lord P. was a plain man, and thirty years of age: Lady Ann was hard-young and inexperienced girl a wife, before ly sixteen and beautiful as an angel.

(in her ball costume, radiant with jewels and beauty) stepped into a hired one, and drove off with her seducer. A divorce was the consequence. Here, then, was the end of an engagement entered into, if not too precipitately, at least prematurely. Here we see the fatal consequence of having made a she knew she had a heart. It was some extenuation of the crime she had committed, though by no means a justification or excuse. She expiated her offence by an eternal separation from her friends and her country. The Earl of Bute gave her up her fortune, on the sole condition of her agreeing never to return to her native land. In perpetual exile then, from girlhood to old age, an exile which endured for upwards of half a century, lived the beautiful Lady Ann Stuart.

My grandmother going to see her after her acceptance of Earl Percy, said, "I hope, my dear Ann, that you love my Lord Percy, as you are going to marry him." "I like Lord Percy, but I do not love him, aunt," was the reply of the then innocent victim, who a few days after was led to the altar as his lordship's bride. The beauty of Lady Ann was the theme of all tongues. Lord Percy became jealous of his beautiful young wife. An officer in the guards paid her more attention than seemed proper. The feelings of, alas! a first love began to enter her youthful heart. Earl Percy, who was only an object of indifference before, became now an object Alas for beauty! that fatal gift, to which too of aversion. (She did not attempt to conceal often may be applied the old Welsh enlyn, or her dislike.) One evening Lady P. danced epigram, on the silk-worm :

at a ball with the officer alluded to, when his lordship coming up to her at eleven o'clock, said hastily, "Lady Percy, the carriage is waiting." Almost immediately af terwards she went out of the room; but in. stead of getting into her own carriage, she

She died in France, and lies buried (as she lived) among strangers,

"Without a stone to mark the spot."

"I perish by my art:

Dig my own grave;
I spin my thread of life;
My death I weave."

(To be continued.)

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My great wealth is a sword and spear, and a handsome raw-hide shield:
With this I plough the furrowed land, and reap the golden field;
With this I press the purple grape, and catch the gushing stream;
With this I am saluted lord and magistrate supreme.

But those whose coward hand dare wield nor sword nor grasp the spear,
Nor on their arm to guard his breast the raw.hide buckler wear,
All having fallen at my knees-their mighty liege adored-
They shall salute, and all proclaim me as their king and lord.
Hybrias ex Antholog.

R. S. F.

ARDENT TROUGHTON, THE WRECK- she would have endeavored to have poured

ED MERCHANT.*

BY E. HOWARD.

BUT I speak not of my sister. She avoided me, doubtless but the strange and unnatural fires that too often lighted up my eyes, alarmed or displeased her. She feared incipent insanity. When we were together she was uniformly kind and gentle. Oh! too gentle! Had we been of one faith, as of one parentage,

* Continued from p. 128.

upon my agitated soul the consolations of religion; but at this blessed source of hope, the only fountain for the wretched, she dared not drink with me. Pitying me, she left me much alone.

With every soul on board she became the especial favorite. Even her timidity seemed to increase the respect of the ship's company. The assumption, on her part, of the airs and the graceful assurance of a petit maître, I observed, with some pain, was giving an independence to her carriage and manners, that though beautiful to contemplate, might

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