A convulsion fit followed, and seemed, by its violence, to explain that she was indeed bound for the last and darksome journey. The maid, who at length answered Tyrrel's earnest and repeated summons, fled terrified at the scene she witnessed, and carried to the Manse the alarm which we before mentioned.

The old landlady was compelled to exchange one scene of sorrow for another, wondering within herself what fatality could have marked this single night with so much misery. When she arrived at home, what was her astonishment to find there the daughter of the house, which, even in their alienation, she had never ceased to love, in a state little short of distraction, and tended by Tyrrel, whose state of mind seemed scarce more composed than that of the unhappy patient. The oddities of Mrs Dods were merely the rust which had accumulated upon her character, but without impairing its native strength and energy; and her sympathies were not of a kind acute enough to disable her from thinking and acting as decisively as circumstances required.

'Maister Tyrrel," she said, "this is nae sight for men folk-ye maun rise and gang to another

room."

"I will not stir from her," said Tyrrel- "I will not remove from her either now, or as long as she or I may live."

"That will be nae lang space, Maister Tyrrel, if ye wunna be ruled by common sense."

Tyrrel started up, as if half comprehending what she said, but remained motionless.

“Come, come," said the compassionate landlady; "do not stand looking on a sight sair eneugh to break a harder heart than yours, hinny- your ain sense tells ye, ye canna stay here Miss Clara shall be weel cared for, and I'll bring word to your roomdoor frae half-hour to half-hour how she is."

The necessity of the case was undeniable, and Tyrrel suffered himself to be led to another apartment, leaving Miss Mowbray to the care of the hostess and her female assistants. He counted the hours in an agony, less by the watch than by the visits which Mrs Dods, faithful to her promise, made from interval to interval, to tell him that Clara was not better that she was worse- - and, at last, that she did not think she could live over morning. It required all the deprecatory influence of the good landlady to restrain Tyrrel, who, calm and cold on common occasions, was proportionally fierce and impetuous when his passions were afloat, from bursting into the room, and ascertaining, with his own eyes, the state of the beloved patient. At length there was a long interval — an interval of hoursso long, indeed, that Tyrrel caught from it the flattering hope that Clara slept, and that sleep might bring refreshment both to mind and body. Mrs Dods, he concluded, was prevented from moving, for fear of disturbing her patient's slumber; and, as if actuated by the same feeling which he imputed to her, he ceased to traverse his apartment, as his agitation had hitherto dictated, and throwing himself into a chair, forbore to move even a finger, and withheld his respiration as much as possible, just as if he had been seated by the pillow of the patient.

Morning was far advanced, when his landlady appeared in his room with a grave and anxious countenance.

"Mr Tyrrel," she said, ye are a Christian

man."

"Hush, hush, for Heaven's sake!" he replied; you will disturb Miss Mowbray."

Naething will disturb her, puir thing," answered Mrs Dods; "they have muckle to answer for that brought her to this."

"They have they have indeed," said Tyrrel, striking his forehead; "and I will see her avenged on every one of them!- Can I see her?"

"Better not-better not," said the good woman; but he burst from her, and rushed into the apartment.

"Is life gone? Is every spark extinct?" he exclaimed eagerly to a country surgeon, a sensible man, who had been summoned from March thorn in the course of the night. The medical man shook his head-Tyrrel rushed to the bedside, and was convinced by his own eyes that the being whose sor rows he had both caused and shared, was now insensible to all earthly calamity. He raised almost a shriek of despair, as he threw himself on the pale hand of the corpse, wet it with tears, devoured it with kisses, and played for a short time the part of a distracted person. At length, on the repeated expostulation of all present, he suffered himself to be again conducted to another apartment, the surgeon following, anxious to give such sad consolation as the case admitted of.

"As you are so deeply concerned for the untimely fate of this young lady," he said, “it may be some satisfaction to you, though a melancholy one, to know, that it has been occasioned by a pressure on the brain, probably accompanied by a suffusion; and I feel authorized in stating, from the symptoms, that if life had been spared, reason would, in all probability, never have returned. In such a case, sir, the most affectionate relation must own, that death, in comparison to life, is a mercy."

"Mercy!" answered Tyrrel; "but why, then, is it denied to me? I know I know!-- My life is spared till I revenge her."

He started from his seat, and hurried eagerly down stairs. But, as he was about to rush from the door of the inn, he was stopped by Touchwood, who had just alighted from a carriage, with an air of stern anxiety imprinted on his features, very different from their usual expression. "Whither would ye? Whither would ye?" he said, laying hold of Tyrrel, and stopping him by force. "For revenge for revenge!" said Tyrrel. "Give way, I charge you, on your peril!" "Vengeance belongs to God," replied the old man, and his bolt has fallen. This way way," he continued, dragging Tyrrel into the house. "Know," he said, so soon as he had led or forced him into a chamber, "that Mowbray of St Ronan's has met Bulmer within this half hour, and has killed him on the spot."

66

this

"Killed-whom?" answered the bewildered

the opinion of many, that he has entered into a Moravian mission, for the use of which he had previously drawn considerable sums.

Since Tyrrel's departure, no one pretends to guess what old Touchwood will do with his money. He often talks of his disappointments, but can never be made to understand, or at least to admit, that they were in some measure precipitated by his own. talent for intrigue and manoeuvring. Most people think that Mowbray of St Ronan's will be at last his heir. That gentleman has of late shewn one quality which usually recommends men to the favour of rich relations, namely, a close and cautious care of what is already his own. Captain MacTurk's military ardour having revived when they came within smell of gunpowder, the old soldier contrived not only to get himself on full pay, but to induce his companion to serve for some time as a volunteer. He afterwards obtained a commission, and nothing could be more strikingly different than was the conduct of he young Laird of St Ronan's and of Lieutenant Mowbray. The former, as we know, was gay, venturous, and prodigal; the latter lived on his pay, and even within it-denied himself comforts, and often decencies, when doing so could save a guinea; and turned pale with apprehension, if, on any extraordinary occasion, he ventured sixpence a corner at whist. This meanness, or closeness of disposition, prevents his holding the high character to which his bravery and attention to his regimental duties might otherwise entitle him. The same close and accurate calculation of pounds, shillings, and pence, marked his communications with his agent Meiklewham, who might otherwise have had better pickings out of the estate of St Ronan's, which is now at nurse, and thriving full fast; especially since some debts, of rather an usurious claracter, have been paid up by Mr Touchwood, who contented himself with more moderate usage.

On the subject of this property, Mr Mowbray, generally speaking, gave such minute directions for acquiring and saving, that his old acquaintance, Mr Winterblossom, tapping his morocco snuff-box 331

with the sly look which intimated the coming of a good thing, was wont to say, that he had reversed the usual order of transformation, and was turned into a grub after having been a butterfly. After all, this narrowness, though a more ordinary modification of the spirit of avarice, may be founded on the same desire of acquisition, which in his earlier days sent him to the gaming-table.

But there was one remarkable instance in which Mr Mowbray departed from the rules of economy, by which he was guided in all others. Having acquired, for a large sum of money, the ground which he had formerly feued out for the erection of the hotel, lodging-houses, shops, &c., at St Ronan's Well, he sent positive orders for the demolition of the whole, nor would he permit the existence of any house of entertainment on his estate, except that in the Aultoun, where Mrs Dods reigns with undisputed sway, her temper by no means improved either by time, or her arbitrary disposition by the total absence of competition.

Why Mr Mowbray, with his acquired habits of frugality, thus destroyed a property which might have produced a considerable income, no one could pretend to affirm, Some said that he remembered his own early follies, and others that he connected the buildings with the misfortunes of his sister. The vulgar reported, that Lord Etherington's ghost had been seen in the ball-room, and the learned talked of the association of ideas. But it all ended in this, that Mr Mowbray was independent enough to please himself, and that such was Mr Mowbray's pleasure.

The little watering-place has returned to its primitive obscurity; and lions and lionesses, with their several jackalls, blue surtouts, and bluer stockings, fiddlers and dancers, painters and amateurs, authors and critics, dispersed like pigeons by the demolition of a dovecot, have sought other scenes of amusement and rehearsal, and have deserted ST RONAN'S WELL.'

1 See Note H. Meg Dods.

Note A, p. 182. BUILDING-FEUS IN SCOTLAND.

IN Scotland, a village is erected upon a species of landright, very different from the copyhold so frequent in England. Every alienation or sale of landed property must be made in the shape of a feudal conveyance, and the party who acquires it holds thereby an absolute and perfect right of property in the fief, while he discharges the stipulations of the vassal, and, above all, pays the feu-duties. The vassal or tenant of the site of the smallest cottage holds his possession as absolutely as the proprietor, of whose large estate it is perhaps scarce a perceptible portion. By dint of excellent laws, the sasines, or deeds of delivery of such fiefs, are placed in record in such order, that every burden affecting the property can be seen for payment of a very moderate fee; so that a person proposing to lend money upon it, knows exactly the nature and extent of his security.

From the nature of these landrights being so explicit and Becure, the Scottish people have been led to entertain a jealousy of building-leases, of however long duration. Not long ago, a great landed proprietor took the latter mode of disposing of some ground near a thriving town in the west country. The number of years in the lease was settled at nine hundred and ninety-nine. All was agreed to, and the deeds were ordered to be drawn. But the tenant, as he walked down the avenue, began to reflect that the lease, though so very long as to be almost perpetual, nevertheless had a termination; and that after the lapse of a thousand years, lacking one, the connection of his family and representatives with the estate would cease. He took a qualm at the thought of the loss to be sustained by his posterity a thousand years hence; and going back to the house of the gentleman who feued the ground, he demanded, and readily obtained, the additional term of fifty years to be added to the lease.

Note B, p. 201. THE DARK LADYE.

The Dark Ladye is one of those tantalizing fragments, in which Mr Coleridge has shewn us what exquisite powers of poetry he has suffered to remain uncultivated. Let us be thankful for what we have received however. The unfashioned ore, drawn from so rich a mine, is worth all to which art can add Its highest decorations, when drawn from less abundant sources. The verses beginning the poem which are published separately, are said to have soothed the last hours of Mr Fox. They are the stanzas entitled LovE.

Note C, p. 224. Kettle of FISH.

A kettle of fish is a féte-champêtre of a particular kind, which is to other fets-champêtres what the piscatory eclogues of Brown or Sannazario are to pastoral poetry. A large caldron is boiled by the side of a salmon river, containing a quantity of water, thickened with salt, to the consistence of brine. In this the fish is plunged when taken, and eaten by the company fronde super viridi. This is accounted the best way of eating salmon, by those who desire to taste the fish in a state of extreme freshness. Others prefer it after being kept a day or two, when the curd melts into oil, and the fish becomes richer and more luscious. The more judicious gastronomes eat no other sauce than a spoonful of the water in which the salmon is boiled, together with a little pepper and vinegar.

Note D, p. 240. MAGO-PICO.

This satire, very popular even in Scotland, at least with one party, was composed at the expense of a reverend presbyterian divine, of whom many stories are preserved, being Mr Pyet, the Mago-Pico of the tale, minister of Dunbar. The work is now little known in Scotland, and not at all in England, though written with much strong and coarse humour, resembling the style of Arbuthnot. It was composed by Mr Haliburton, a military chaplain. The distresses attending Mago-Pico's bachelor life, are thus stated:

"At the same time I desire you would only figure out to yourself his situation during his celibacy in the ministerial charge a house lying all heaps upon heaps; his bed ill-made, swarming with fleas, and very cold on the winter nights; his sheep's-head not to be eaten for wool and hair, his broth singed, his bread mouldy, his lamb and pig all scouthered, his house neither washed nor plastered; his black stockings darned with white worsted above the shoes; his butter made into cat's harns; his cheese one heap of mites and maggots, and full of large avenues for rats and mice to play at hide-and-seek and make their nests in. Frequent were the admonitions he had given his maidservants on this score, and every now and then he was turning them off; but still the last was the worst, and in the meanwhile the poor man was the sufferer. At any rate, therefore, matrimony must turn to his account, though his wife should prove to be nothing but a creature of the feminine gender, with a tongue in her head, and ten fingers on her hands, to clear out the papers of the housemaid, not to mention the convenience of a man's having it in his power lawfully to beget sons and daughters in his own house."—Memoirs of Mago Pico. Second Edition. Edinburgh, 1761, p. 19.

Note F, p. 303. Dogs TRAINED TO THEFT.

There were several instances of this dexterity, but especially those which occurred in the celebrated case of Murd son and Millar in 1773. These persons, a sheep-farmer and his shepherd, settled in the vale of Tweed, commenced and carried on for some time an extensive system of devastation on the flocks of their neighbours. A dog belonging to Millar was so well trained, that he had only to shew him during the day the parcel of sheep which be desired to have; and when dismissed at night for the purpose, Yarrow went right to the pasture where the flock had fed, and carried off the quantity shewn to him. He then drove them before him by the most secret paths to Murdison's farın, where the dishonest master and servant were in readiness to receive the booty. Two things were remarkable. In the first place, that if the dog, when thus dishonestly employed, actually met his master, he observed great caution in recognizing him, as if he had been afraid of bringing him under suspicion; secondly, that he shewed a distinct sense that the illegal transactions in which he was engaged were not of a nature to endure daylight. The sheep which he was directed to drive, were often reluctant to leave their own pastures, and sometimes the intervention of rivers and other obstacles mada their progress peculiarly difficult. On such occasions, Yarrow continued his efforts to drive his plunder forward, until the day began to dawn, a signal which, he conceived, rendered it neces sary for him to desert his spoil, and slink homeward by a cir cuitous road. It is generally said this accomplished dog was hanged along with his master; but the truth is, he survived hin long, in the service of a man in Leithen, yet was said afterwards to have shewn little of the wonderful instinct exhibited in the service of Millar.

Another instance of similar sagacity, a friend of mine dis covered in a beautiful little spaniel which he had purchased from a dealer in the canine race. When he entered a shop, he was not long in observing that his little companion made it a rule to follow at some interval, and to estrange itself from his master so much as to appear totally unconnected with him. And when he left the shop, it was the dog's custom to remain behind him till it could find opportunity of seizing a pair of gloves, or silk stockings, or some similar property, which it

Note G, p. 306. USAGES OF CHARITY.

The author has made an attempt in this character to draw a picture of what is too often seen, a wretched being whose heart becomes hardened and spited at the world, in which she is doomed to experience much misery and little sympathy. The system of compulsory charity by poor's rates, of which the absonte necessity can hardly be questioned, has connected with it on both sides some of the most odious and malevolent feelings that can agitate humanity. The quality of true charity is not strained. Like that of mercy, of which, in a large sense, it may be accounted a sister virtue, it blesses him that gives and him that takes. It awakens kindly feelings both in the mind of the donor and in that of the relieved object. The giver and receiver are recommended to each other by mutual feelings of good-will, and the pleasurable emotions connected with the consciousness of a good action fix the deed in recollection of the one, while a sense of gratitude renders it holy to the other. In the legal and compulsory assessment for the proclaimed parish pauper, there is nothing of all this. The alins are extorted from an unwilling hand, and a heart which desires the annihilation, rather than the relief, of the distressed object. The object of charity, sensible of the ill-will with which the pittance is bestowed, seizes on it as his right, not as a favour. The manner of conferring it being directly calculated to hurt and disgust his feelings, le revenges himself by becoming impudent and clamorous. A more odious picture, or more likely to deprave the feelings of those exposed to its influence, can hardly be imagined; and yet to such a point have we been brought by an artificial system of society, that we must either deny altogether the right of the poor to their just proportion of 333

Note II, p. 331. MEG DODS.

Non omnis moriar. St Ronan's, since this veracious history was given to the public, has revived as a sort of alias, or second title, to the very pleasant village of Inverleithen upor. Tweed, where there is a medicinal spring much frequented by viziters. Prizes for some of the manly and athletic sports, common in the pastoral district around, are competed for under the title of the St Ronan's Games. Nay, Meg Dods has produced herself of late from obscurity as authoress of a work on Cookery, of which, in justice to a lady who makes so distinguished a figure as this excellent dame, we insert the title page:"The Cook and Housewife's Manual: A Practical System of Modern Domestic Cookery and Family Management. Cook, see all your sauces

Be sharp and poynant in the palate, that they may
Commend you look to your roast and baked meats handsomely,
And what new kickshaws and delicate made things."

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

By Mistress Margaret Dods, of the Cleikum Inn, St Ronan's."

Though it is rather unconnected with our immediate subject, we cannot help adding, that Mrs Dods has preserved the recipes of certain excellent old dishes which we would be loath should fall into oblivion in our day; and in bearing this testimony, wo protest that we are no way biassed by the receipt of two bottles of excellent sauce for cold meat, which were sent to us by the said Mrs Dods, as a mark of her respect and regard, for which we return her our unfeigned thanks, having found them capital.