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fort her,” said his mother suddenly; "for who shrinks from a great blow; Euphie wept she has her prop and her staff left to her, and and lamented passionately and aloud — she has never heard the foot of deadly sorrow a' felt the stroke so much the least of all. her days. The auld man and Patie - baith gane - a' gane — I ken it's true -- I'm assured in my ain mind it's true; but I've nae That day the Firth was scoured up and feeling o't, man —nae feeling o't-dae mair down, from Inverkeithing to St. Andrews, than cauld iron or stane."
and anxious scouts despatched along the whole And, with a pitiful smile quivering upon line of coast to search at least for other eriher lip, and her eye gleaming dry and tear-dence of the wreck. Other evidence there less, Kirstin turned to pace up and down the was none to be found — nothing, save this little apartment. Strangely different in the solitary fragment, had found its way to the first effort of her scarcely less intense grief, home-shores of Fife, and the sea closed hopeAilie Rintoul turned now fiercely upon John — lessly over all trace and token of the lost res
“ Have ye nae mair proof but this ? A wave sel and her crew. The weather continued might wrench away a companion-door that brilliant and glowing, full of sunshine and wouldna founder a sloop -- are ye gaun to be fresh winds ; but not even the strong high content with this, John Rintoul? Ile 's gane tides, which covered Elie shore with wreaths through as mony storms as there 's gray hairs of tangle and glistening seaweed, and scaton his head -- and ilka ane of them is num- tered driftwood on the braes, brought any bered. Am I to believe the Lord would for- second messenger ashore, to confirm the rea make his ain? I tell ye ye 're wrang-ye're ord of the first. In a little empty chain ber, a' wrang - I'll never believe it. lle may be in the roof of John Rintoul's house, this tragie driven out a hundred mile, or stranded on a token was itself preserved ; and Euphie, when desolate place, or ta'en refuge, or fechting on he disappeared sometimes, knew, with an im the sea ; — but ye needna tell me - I ken - patient, half-displeased sympathy, that he I ken — I'll believe yo the Judgment's to was there - there, turning orer the senseless be the morn, afore I believe my brother 's fragment in his hand, carefully pondering its lost."
marks, and feeling his heart beat when he Hot tears blinded Ailie's eyes, and all the discovered a new jagged point in its outline, stiff sedateness of her mien had vanished in yet never drawing forth from it further ti the wild gestures with which these words dings of the mystery which it alone could hurried from her lips ; she paused, at length, tell. worn out and trembling with feverish excite And hy and by a stupefying calm fell over ment, and turned to the window to look out all their excitement. The loss of the “Euon the sea. John, still more completely ex- phemia" came to be a matter of history in hausted, and lost in the deep, hopeless de- the district, of which people told with heads spondency which had now succeeded to the sympathetically shaken, and exclamations of first im patience of grief, stood at the table grave pity, just as Kirstin Beatoun herself silent and unresponsive still; and the slow, spoke last year of the boats lost at the hoavy footsteps of Kirstin Beatoun sounded drave." There were circumstances connected through the room like a knell.
with the story, remarkable, and claiming And it was for this ye minded of the special notice ; as, for instance, the total disbairns ! - oh, John, my man, my man! and appearance of the wreck — all but the one it was for this the Lord warned ye with a singular token which John Rintoul himself sight of them, and put dark words into your had found ; but the story itself was not remouth, that I kent nae meaning to! - Na, markable - nothing more noteworthy or litAilie ; no lost; blessings on hiin where he is, mentable than the fall of a knight in harness, where nae blessings fail! I never had dread or a soldier in the field of battle, was the loss nor doubt before, but put him freely in the of a sailor in the wild element which he lived Lord's hand to come and gang at His good but to struggle with; and only another story pleasure - and he came like the day, and of shipwreck, distinguished by a special mysgaed like the night, as constant, serving his tery, was added to the far too abundant store Maker. Ile 's won hame at last — and the of such calamities known to the dwellers of Lord help me for a puir desolate creature, the east coast. that am past kenning what my trouble is. And “the Elie," with its quiet monotony Patie, too; bairns — bairns, ye needna think of life — the bustle of leave-taking with which me hard-hearted because I canna greet — but its few small vessels sailed, its fishing-boats is 's a' cauld, cauld, like the blast that cast went and came, and its little commotion of our boat away."
country business — the market of its small And the poor widow leaned upon the wall, province of farms - went on without a chango. and struggled with soune hard, dry, gasping A visible outward gravity and solemness fell sobs; but no tears came to soften the misery upon two or three households, who made no in her eyes.
moan of their affliction - no small repining Agnes was cowering in a corner, like one and complaint on the part of Samuel Raeburn
and his wife, now suddenly fallen into com- of golden sand. But there comes no sunshine parative poverty ; but all the widening outer here, to throw a passing radiance upon this circles had died out of the placid water, and still figure, with its drooping head and widow's only a single spot remained to tell where so cap, the wheel moving rapidly before her, and many hopes had gone down into the sea. the monotonous continual motion of foot and
And looking into Kirstin Beatoun's sole hand. There is something strangely imapartment, with all its minute regularity of pressive in this combination of perfect stillness order — its well-swept earthen floor and shin- and constant mechanical motion - a mystie ing fireplace, with the great empty " kettle,” mesmeric effect binding the spectator as by a which she once needed in the old family spell. The wheel moves on, and so does the timos, standing upon the side of the grate, band that sways it; but not by so much as even when the little vessel she used herself- the lifting of an eyelid does Kirstin show any hung from the crook, a speck in the large, sign of animation except this. hospitable chimney - you scarcely could have Yet she has visitors to-day. By the side fancied that the house was desolate. There of the fire, just opposite that great wooden were one or two signs noticeable enough, if arm-chair which no one ventures to sit down you had crossed the threshold before, ere this in, Mrs. Plenderleath, with a black gown blow fell on Kirstin's life. No sound in the heavily trimmed with crape, and ghastly hushed house but the constant voice of the black ribbons about her cap, sits solemnly eight-day clock, telling hours and minutes, of silent too. Kirstin has no mourning except tho which none were spent idly even now. No widow's cap which surrounds her unmoving bits of tunes hummed out or the house-moth-face --- her everyday petticoat and shortgown er's contented heart -no little communica- remain the same, and she can only afford to tion made to herself or to a passing neighbor, wear her new mournings on Sabbath-days and even no passing neighbor throwing in a but there is a satisfaction to the richer Ailie word of daily news from the threshold, as in bearing constantly the memorials of their they used to do every hour ; for the door it- woe... Cold and gray, and sharply drawn, the selt stood no longer open, inviting chance thin lines of Ailie's face bear something like visitants or voices. Like a veil over a widow's a high strain of irritation and impatience in face, this closed door chilled all voluble sym- their grief. Her eyes are excited and wanpathizers round, and impressed the neighbor- dering --- deeply hollowed, too, within these hood with a deeper sense of widowhood and few painful weeks — and her lips have got desolation than almost any other visible token a fashion of strange, rapid motion, quivering, could have done. The very children paused and framing words as it seems, though the and grew silent, wondering with wistful eyes words are never said. before the closed door; and solemn was the Just behind Kirstin, sitting on greenish light within, coming solely, as it never wooden stool, and half leaning against the came before, through the thick, small window- elbow of the vacant arm-chair, is Agnes Raepanes and half-drawn curtains, upon Kirstin burn. Samuel, her father, has taken the loss herself, sitting before the fire in the profound of the sloop as a personal offence, and has no silence, working nets or knitting stockings, commiseration to spare for the sailors who spinning wool or hemp - no longer for the lost his property along with their lives ; nor kindly household needs which it was such has he ever professed to mourn for them; yet joy to supply — no longer for the winter fish- Agnes has a homely black-and-white cotton ing, or the herring drave, in which she her- gown, as cheap as cotton print can be proself had all the personal interest which a cured, whereby she silently testifies her " rofisherman's wife takes in the success of our spect” for the dead. And something more boat" — but for the bare and meagre daily significant than her mourning speaks in those bread which she had now to win with her dark shadows under her eyes, in the pallor of own hands.
her thin cheek, and in the lines which begin She is sitting there now, with the fire to grow far more clearly marked and distinet throwing some ruddy shade upon her --sit- than they should have been for years, around ting in the full daylight, in the middle of the the grave mouth, which never relaxes now to floor. There is a significance even in the anything but a pathetic smile. But it is place where she chooses to put her chair and here only, or in the solitude of her own chamwheel, for Kirstin is in no one's way now, and ber at home, that Agnes permits herself the does not need to leave the clear floor," for indulgence of this grief. Out of doors, and which she would once have contended. With- among, strangers, her pride sustains her. out, it is a May day, fresh and fragrant, and She will not have any one say that she is the clear water on Elie shore has forgotten breaking, for Patie Rintoul, the heart which the boisterous mirth of early spring, and out he never sought in words. of its schoolboy din has gone back into an Though now Agnes is solemnly assured infant's sweet composure, and breaks in sunny that he would have sought it, and that Patie, ripples, soft and quiet, upon the narrow riin, whose dawning devotion she had scorned so
far as appearance went, bore for her that “A'body's very kind," said Kirstin steadily, high love at which her heart trembles, and but I've had a house o' my ain for five-andwhich none may scorn. She knows it. How? forty year, and I canna live in anither woman's But Agnes thrills over all her frame, and now. Na, na, Nannie — my guid-daughter shrinks back and shudders. She cannot tell. is very weel of hersel, and pleases John, and A dark figure crossing the street through the I'm aye glad to see her – and you 're a fine world of white unshadowed moonlight — a simple hearted crentur, and I like to have you distant step echoing over the stones when all near me ; but I maun bide in my ain house, the peaceful housekeepers of Elie had been for Nancy, and be thankful that I have to work hours asleep — something at her window to keep a roof over my head; it's aye someshaking the casement like a hand that fain thing to thole tbae lang days for. If I had . would open it, but might not — and stealthy plenty, and ease, and naething to do but to sounds, as of subdued footsteps, stealing all sit with my hands before me, I would either night long through the silent house. She gang daft or dee." thinks that thus he came to warn her he, “ But there is an odds between gaun to a Patie — now the one perpetual unnamed He strange woman's house -- though I'm meanon whom her heart dwells ; she thinks the ing nae ill to John's wise — and coming to passing yearning spirit took this only means mine," said Mrs. Plenderleath ; " and ye could in his power to let her know his love, as he aye hae plenty to do, Kirstin, and I wouldda parted with his mortal life ; and the thought be against ye working, for I kin it 's a grand wraps heart and soul of her in a dim dreamy divert to folk's ain thoughts."
“Na, Ailie, na," answered Kirstin BeaAt present Agnes is knitting. It is toun; “ I have lost a'thing that made hame Kirstin's work work that she does at night cheerie, man and weans, goods and gear; but to preserve her eyes from the more reinunera- I maun keep the four wa's a' my days— it's tive labor ; and so they sit together in per- what was hame ance, and it's everything I foct silence, Ailie Rintoul now and then hae. When my time comes, and I'm done rustling the sleeves of her black silk gown, as with earthly dwellings — the Lord send it she lifts her large brown bony hand to wipe was this day! the plenishing can be sellt, the continual moisture which overflows, as out and the siller laid by for little Johnnie when of a cup, from the hollow rim under her he comes to be a man; but I maun keep my eyes - Agnes moving her fingers quickly, and ain house a' my days. making a sharp, rapid sound with her wires
This was by no means the first time Kirstin — Kirstin, like a weird woman, with rapt had declared her determination ; and not head and look of perfect abstraction, spinning even the faintest lingering hope that some on, with that constant monotonous movement one might still come back out of the mysteriof foot and hand; - but no one of them ous sea, which had swallowed up her treasures, stirring, except with this involuntary gesture, to make this once more a home worth living uod none saying a word to the other. in, inspired her in her purpose. It was
After a long time spent in this silence, simply as she said. Her own house, and the Ailie rises slowly to go to the window. The desire to retain it, was all she had now rechildren without think her something like a maining in this life ; and her daily work was spirit as they see her long, colorless face, her daily strength, and kept her heart alive. surrounded with borders of narrow net and For no one dreamt of the little Dutch 81 ugbits of black ribbon, looking out over the gling brig storm-driven up the Firth on yon curtain... Slowly returning and resuming her tempestuous March night — no one knew of seat, Ailie speaks ;
the young, pallid, half-drowned man whoin the “You said John was to be down from Dutch skipper could not choose but turn aside Leith the day?".
to save ; and least of all could any one have Euphie was looking for him," said Agnes. imagined the strange, pitiful scene on board " The owner of the brig was to let him ken the * Drei Bruderen," where the poor young whether he would do for mate this morning, Scotch sailor, with that hardening cut upon and Euphie was busy at a' his claes, for he his brow, lay wild in the delirium of brain thought he would get the place."
fever, raving fiercely in the unknown tongue, Ailie shook her head bitterly. Kirstin which made his kindly, rude deliverers, made no sign ; but the humiliation, and loss, grouped round his bed, shake their he..ds, and and poverty, were an aggravation of the mis- | look 'doubtfully at one another, unable to disfortune of her sister-in-law.
tinguish a single word intelligible to them of " And Euphie said, if you would gang there all his lengthened groanings. They were on - if you would only gang hame !" said the high seas still, slowly drawing near their Agnes, rising to lay her hand hurriedly on häven ; and even now, while Kirstin Beatoun Kirstin Beatoun's shoulder; " for it breaks sat immovable under the shadow of her great everybody's heart to see you living your lane, hopeless sorrow, hope, and health, and a new and working this way night and day." life began to dawn again upon Patie Rintoul.
From the Gentleman's Magazine. power to furnish Mr. Croft with any important
circumstances in Dr. Young's life ; but he was DR. YOUNG – DR. AKENSIDE – JAMES sunk into the vale of years and quiet retreat, BOSWELL
before she had the honor and happiness of his
acquaintance, and his contemplation being then DR. YOUNG.
chiefly intent on things above the visible diurnal JOHNSON got lazy towards the conclusion of sphere, he rarely talked of the earlier and more his Lives of the Poets, and was glad to accept heard many things greatly to his credit ; partic
active part of his life. From others she has the offer of a life of Young from Mr. Herbert ularly an act of uncommon liberality to his lady's Croft, then a barrister of Lincoln's Inn, after-daughter by her first husband ; but as they wards a clergyman, and still remembered as were delivered to her in the vague relations of Sir Herbert Croft, and as the author of common discourse, she cannot speak of them “ Love and Madness," a kind of novel founded with such certainty and precision as Mr. Croft's on the story of Mr. Hackman and Miss Ray. purpose requires. This deficiency she greatly Oroft was the friend of Dr. Young's son, but, laments, not only on account of the honor they judging from the Life, he would not appear would have done to the memory of her departed to have known much of Young ; while he has friend, but likewise for the sake of the world, to fallen into some curious blunders that deserve whom they would have held forth patterns of to be corrected in any future edition of John-right and noble conduct. Though right and son's Lives.* Croft, however, was diligent Wrong are declared and made known to us by in his inquiries about Young, and made ap, the perverseness of mankind they are more apt
higher wisdom than human wisdom, yet such is plications for information about him to several to be influenced by the example of persons celoof his friends, among others to Mrs. Montagu, brated for their parts than by pure precept ; for whose letter in reply I was allowed to copy the same reason, in an unbelieving age, the infrom the original, then in the possession of terests of religion are connected with the charaothe late “ Tom Hill." As this letter merits ter of a man so distinguished for piety as Dr. publication, and has never been in print, I Young. Though unable to assist Mr. Croft, she send it for preservation and public use to the must ever respect him for endeavoring to get pages of Sylvanus.
information from Dr. Young's friends concerning .
him, instead of collecting from the whispers of TO HERBERT CROFT, ESQ., SOUTHAMPTON ROW, calumny idle tales by which to blast the memory LONDON.
of a good man, and prevent the edification of a Sandleford, Sept. 17, 1782.
good example. Mrs. Montagu presents her compliments to Mr.
DR. AKENSIDE. Croft, and would have returned an answer to his letter sooner, but being in the country it was Akonside's share in “ Dodsley's Museum," delayed on its way to her. In regard to "Res- and the remuneration he received from Dodoignation,” the matter which gave occasion to ley for his services in that work, have escaped that poem was simply this ; Mrs. Montagu hav- his biographer. All that Mr. Dyce says on ing observed that Mrs. Boscawen, in her great the subject, in his able and otherwise ample and just grief for the loss of the admiral, seemed life of the poet, is as follows: “ lle also conto find some consolation in reading Dr. Young's tributed to Dodsley's excellent periodical Night Thoughts, she wished to give her an ope publication, The Museum, or Literary and always thought his unbounded genius appeared Historical Register, several prose papers which to greater advantage in the companion than the deserve to be reprinted.”. The following docauthor. The Christian was in him a character ument, from the original in my possession, is more inspired, more enraptured, more sublime, new to the biography of the poet : than the poet ; and in his ordinary conversation
Jany. 20, 1745-6. - letting down the golden chain from high, months, commencing the 25th of March next
Dr. Akinside ingages to Mr. Dodsley for six He drew his audience upward to the sky.
To prepare and have ready for the press once Mrs. M. therefore proposed to Mrs. Boscawen a fortnight, one Essay, whenever necessary, for and Mrs. Carter to go with her to Welwyn. It is carrying on & work to be called The Museum. unnecessary to add that the visit answered every
And also, expectation.
To prepare and have ready for the press, Mrs. Montagu is very sorry it is not in her once a fortnight, an account of the most con
siderable books in English, Latin, French, or • Let me observe here that I commenced my now
Italian, which have been lately published, and largoly and curiously annotated copy of Johnson's which Mr. Dodsley shall furnish ; and the said Lives in the year 1839, and that I have nearly Account of Books shall be so much in quantity
as, ready for publication a new edition of the Lives, along with the Essay above mentioned, may fill with such corrections and new matter insorted as sheet and a half in small pica, whenever 80 my own unceasing love for the work has enabled much is necessary for carrying on the said me to supply.-P. C.
Dr. Akinside also engages to supervise the Of Margaret Caroline Rudd, so intimately whole, and to correct the press of his own part. connected with the forgeries of the Perreaus, On condition
there is this inentioned in Boswell's biograThat Mr. Dodsley shall pay to Dr. Akinside
phy:fifty pounds on or before the 27th of September next.
I talked a good deal to him (Johnson) of the "T is also agreed that so long as Mr. Dodsley celebrated Margaret Caroline Rudd, whom I bad thinks proper to continue the paper, and so long visited, induced by the fame of her talents, ad13 Dr. Akinside consents to manage it, the terms dress, and irresistible power of fascination. To above mentioned shall remain in force, and not a lady who disapproved of my visiting her, he less than an hundred pounds per annum be of- said, on a former occasion, "Nay, Madame, fered by Dr. Dodsley, nor more insisted on by Dr. Boswell is in the right ; I should have visited her Akinside, as witness our hands,
myself, were it not that they have now a trick of MARK AKINSIDE. putting everything into the newspapers.” This Robr. DODSLEY. evening he exclaimed, " I envy him his acquaint
ance with Mrs. Rudd." This document is in Akenside's handwrit
Would Johnson haye envied him his song! ing.
PETER CUNNINGHAY. JAMES BOSWELL.
Kensington, 15th January, 1853. It is not known that Sir Alexander Boswell inherited his love of poetry from his father,
THE NEW PRESIDENT LEAVING HOME – A and that the biographer of Johnson, like bis painful sensation was created in our quiet town son, was occasionally a poet. The following by the departure of Gen. Pierce on Monday of song, now first printed, and from the original last week for Washington. Few men have been in Boswell's own handwriting, was written so universally honored and beloted by their by the charming biographer of Johnson, in neighbors and townsmen, or carried with them, commemoration of a tour he made with the when they changed their residence, more fervent famous Mrs. Rudd whilst she was under his good wishes. All feel that they have lost an protection, and for living with whom he was ornament of our society, a centre of attraction, nearly disinherited by his father. Boswell and a personal friend ; and long will be the time occasionally sung the song on the Home Cir- before the void will be filled which his removal euit.
has made. While his generous nature and courteous bearing, uniting a graceful dignity with an artless frankness and unsuspecting familiarity, secured the devoted affections of all who approached him, his talents and public ser
vices procured for him confidence, respect and Tune - Drunk at night and dry in the morning.
honor, as far as he was known. Since his nomO Lurgan Clanbrassil ! how sweet is thy sound
inntion not one false step has he taken ; since his To my tender remembrance as Love's sacred election to the highest position in the gift of ground;
mortals, not one indiscreet act has he done. In Por there gentle Fainelagh first charmed my lence and virulence of electioneering strife, he
the excitement, and in some instances, the riosight, And filled my young heart with a fluttering de- bore himself with an exact propriety, and since light.
his election his political opponents confess to
their admiration of his indomitable independence When I thought her my own, o ! too short seemed and matchless power of keeping his own secrets. the day
The most crushing calamity has saddened his In a jnunt to Down Patrick, or a trip on the brow and his heart, but it has secured for him sea ;
the sympathies and prayers of all good men, and To describe what I felt then all language were will, as we doubt not, lift up his thoughts to a vain,
Higher Power in the midst of the honors, the 'T was in truth what the poets have studied to flatteries, the intrigues, the fawning, and the feign.
responsibilities before him. lle goes to the White
House with a patriotic heart, and with the sol But I found, oh! alas ! that e'en she could de- emn purpose, we are persuaded, to do his whole ceive,
duty, knowing no north, no south, no east, no Then nothing was left but to sigh, weep, and west, the president of the country and not of a rave;
section. Ignoring politics and parties, we oonDistracted I fled from my dear native shore, fess to our gratification at the honor bestowed Rosolved to see Lurgan Clanbrassil no more. upon our little New Hampshire, and the honor
able style in which the honor will be sustained. Yet still in some moments enchanted I find - Concord Congregational Journal. A warm ray of her fondness beam soft on my
mind : While thus in bright fancy my Angel I see, THERE are countenances far more indecent All the world is a Lurgan Clanbrassil to me than the naked form of the Medicean Venus
A SUPPOSED IRISH SONG.