ONDERFUL PASSAGE, &c. glimpse of him, had at last the unspeakable mortification of being informed that he was a lame duck, and that he had not only waddled but bolted; or in other words, that this "remarkably prudent young gentleman" had run away, after having lost every thing, and had left nothing whatever to his numerous creditors, but his bright pea-green tilbury, upon which, however, an attachment was lodged by the groom in the sky-blue livery with silver shoulder-knots, for arrears of wages! Sneaked homewards, calling in my way to couutermand a pipe of port, which I had been ass enongh to order upon anticipation. Entered my shop as if I were going to be hung; took up a dirty apron of Jem's, which 1 tied round me, and began cutting up a sugar-loaf with great humility and compunction of spirit. My wife breaking into the shop as she beheld this apparition from the back parlour, I began to break to her our misfortune, while I was breaking the sugar, when she flew into such a rage that I verily thought she would have finished by breaking my head. She would not have minded it so much, she said, but that she had lost the opportunity of mortifying Mrs. Tibbs, and that our best customer, Mr. Alderman Dewlap, had sent for his bill, declaring his intention of giving his custom to another shop. This she attributed to my impertinence, and insisted 'upon my writing him a submissive apology, which I sturdily refused doing, declaring 1 would be the master of my own house, and that, though I was ruined, I would not be humbled or hen-pecked. Very angry words ensued, but I carried my point with a high hand, for instead of writing to the Alderman as she ordered, I called upon him, and made him a very humble apology in person. WONDERFUL PASSAGE IN 171 "cock the piece, ye sumph;" while the red hair rose up from his pow like feathers; "they're coming, I hear them tramping on the gravel!" Out he stretched his arms against the wall, and brizzed his back against the door like mad; as if he had been Sampson pushing ower the pillars in the house of Dagon. sake, prime the gun," he cried out, "or our throats will be cut frae lug to lug, before we can cry Jack Robison! See that there's priming in the pan." [Concluded from page 140.] GUDENESS watch ower us! I trumble but when I think on't. We were perfectly between the deil and the deep seaeither to stand and fire our gun, or riu and be shot at. It was really a hang choice. As I stood swithering and shaking, the laddie ran to the door, and, thrawing round the key, clappit his back till', Oh! how I lookit at him, as he stude, for a gliff, like a magpie hear kening wi' his lug cockitup, or rather like a terrier watching a rotten. "They're coming! they're coming!" he cried out. "For the Lord's I did the best I could; but my hale strength could hardly lift up the piece, which waggled to and through, like a cock's tail on a rainy day; my knees knockit against ane anither, and though I was resigned to dee---I trust I was resigned to dee--od, but it was a frightfu' thing to be out of ane's bed, and to be murdered in a session-house, at the dead hour of night, by unyearthly resurrectionmen, or rather let me call them deevils incarnate, wrapt up in dreadnoughts, wi' blackit faces, pistols, big sticks, and other deadly weapons. A snuff snuffing was heard; and, through below the door, I saw a pair of glancing black een. Od, but my heart nearly loupit aff the bit---a snouff, and a gur, gurring, and ower a' the plain tramp of a man's heavy tackets and cuddy heels amang the gravel. Then came a great slap like thunder on the wall; and the laddie, quitting his grip, fell down, crying, "Fire, fire!-- murder! holy murder!" "Wha's there?" growled a deep rough voice; open, I'm a freend." I tried to speak, but could not; something like a halfpenny row was sticking in my throat, so I tried to cough it up but it wadna come. "Gie the password then," said the laddie, staring as if his een wad loupen out; "gie the password !" First cam a loud whissle, and then, "Copmabagen," answered the voice. Oh! what a relief! The laddie started up, like one crazy wi’joy. “Ou! ou!” cried he, thrawing round the key, and rubbing his hands; "by jingo, it's the bethrel---it's the bethrel---it's auld Isaac himsell." First rushed in the dog, and then Isaac, wi' his glazed hat slouched ower his brow, and his horn bonet glimmering by his knee. "Has the French landit, do ye think? Losh keep us a'," said he, wi' a smile on his half-idiot face, (for he was a kind of a sort of a natural wi' an infirmity in his leg) "od sauf us, man, put by your gun. Ye dinna mean to shoot me, do ye? What are ye about here wi' the door lockit? I just keppit four resurrectioners louping ower the wa'." "Gude guide us," I said, taking a lang breath to drive the blude frae my heart, and something relieved by Isaac's company---"Come now, Isaac, ye're just gieing us a fright. Isn't that true, Isaac?" "Yes, I'm joking---and what for no? ---but they might have been, for onything ye wad bae hindered them to the contrair, I'm thinking. Na, na, ye maunna lock the door; that's no fair play." When the door was put a jee, and the furm set forenent the fire, I gaed Isaac a dram to keep his heart up on cic a cauld stormy night. Od, but he was a droll fallow Isaac. He sung and leuch as if he had been boozing in Luckie Thampsons wi' some of his drucken cronies. Feint a hair gaed he about auld kirks, or kirk-yards, or vouts, or through-stanes, or dead fock in their winding-sheets, wi' the wet grass growing ower them; and at last I began to brighten up a wee mysell, so when he had gone ower a good few funny stories, I said to him, quoth I, "Mony folk I dare say mak mair noise about their sitting up in a kirk-yard than its a' worth. There's naething here to harm us?" "I beg to differ wi' ye there," auswered Isaac, taking out his horn mull from his coat pouch, and tapping on the lid in a queer style---" I could gie anither version of that story. Did ye no ken of three young doctors--Eirish students---alang wi' some resurrectioners as waff and wild as themselle, firing shottie for shottie wi' the guard at Kirkmabrecke, and lodging three slugs in ane of their backs, forbye firing a ramrod through anither ane's hat?" This was a wee alarming."No," quoth I; "no, Isaac, man; I ne'er heard o't." "But, let alane resurrectioners, do ye no think there is sic a thing as ghaists? Guide ye man, my granny could hae telled as muckle about them as wad hae filled a minister's sermons from June to January." "Kay---kay---that's a buff," I said. "Are there nae cutty-stool businesses. are there nae marriages gaun, Isaac ?" for I was keen to change the subject. "Ye may kay---kay, as ye like, though; I can just tell ye this---ye'll mind auld Armstrong wi' the leather breeks, and the brown three-story wig---him that was the grave-digger? Weel, he saw a ghaist wi' his leeving een---aye, and what's better, in this very kirk-yard too. It was a cauld spring morning, and daylight just coming in, whan he cam to the yett yonder, thinking to meet his man, paidling Jock but he had sleepit in and was na there. Weel, to the wast corner ower yonder he gaed, and throwing his coat ower a headstane, and his hat on the top o't, he dug away wi' his spade, throwing out the mool, and the coffin handles, and the green banes and sic like, till he stoppit a wee to tak breath---What! are ye whistling to yoursell? quo' Isaac to me, "and no hearing what's God's truth!" "Ou, aye," said I, "but ye didna tell me if onybody was cried last Sunday?"— I wad hae gien every farthing I had made by the needle, to hae been at that blessed time in my bed wi' my wife and weans. Ay, how I was gruing! I mostly chacked aff my tongue in chatteringBut a' wad not do. "Weel, speaking of ghaists-when he was resting on his spade he looked up to the steeple, to see what o'clock it was, wondering what way Jock hadna come, when lo! and behold, in the laug diced window of the kirk yonder, he saw a lady a' in white, wi' her hands clasped thegither, looking out to the kirk-yard at him. "He couldna believe his een, so he rubbit them wi' his sark sleeve, but she was still there bodily, and keeping ae ee on him, and anither on his road to the yett; he drew his coat and hat to him below his arm, and aff like mad, throwing the shool half a mile ahint him. fand that; for he was coming singing in at the yett, when his maister ran clean ower the tap o' him, and capsized him like a toom barrel; and never stoppit, till he was in at his ain house, and the door baith bolted and barred at his tail. Jock "Did ye ever hear the like of that, Mansie? Weel, man, I'll explain the hale history o't to ye. Ye see-Od! how sound that callant's sleeping," continued Isaac; "he's snoring like a nine-year auld." I was glad he had stoppit, for I was like to sink through the grund wi' fear; but na, it wadna do. "Dinna ye ken-sauf us! what a fearsome night this is! The trees 'll be a' broken. What a noise in the lum! I dare say there's some auld hag of a witch-wife gaun to come rumble doun't. It's no the first time, I'll swear. Ha'e ye a silver sixpence? Wad ye like that?" he bawled up the chumley. heard," said he, "lang ago, that a wee murdered wean was buried---didna ye hear a voice?---was buried below that corner---the hearth-stane there, where the laddy's lying on?" "Ye'll hae I had now lost my breath, so that I couldna stop him. "Ye never heard tell o't, didna ye? Weel, l'se tell't ye---Sauf us, what swurls of smoke coming doun the chimley---I could swear something no canny's stopping up the lum head--Gang out, and see! BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 173 At that moment, a clap like thunder was heard---the candle was driven ower--the sleeping laddie roared, "Help!" and "Murder!" and "Thieves!" and, ANECDOTES OF CELEBRATED WOMEN. MONTAGUE. as the furm on which we were sitting No. XII.-LADY MARY WORTLEY played flee backwards, crippled Isaac bellowed out, " I'm dead! I'm killed! shot through the head! oh! oh! oh!" Surely I had fainted away; for, when I came to mysell, I found my red comforter loosed; my face a' wet---Isaac rubbing down his waistcoat wi' his sleeve ---the laddie swigging ale out of a bicker--and the brisk brown stout, which, by casting its cork, had caused a' the alarm, whizz---whizz---whizzing in the chumley lug. THE MINSTREL OF WAR. Ere the light of the sun Sail on, gallant pinnace, The tremulous wave May yet be thy grave; His carol of War. "O Mars! from the splendours For thy victim below; In his freshness and bloom, On the edge of the grave !" Now a swift arrow came, LADY MARY PIEREPONT was the eldest daughter, of Evelyn Duke of Kingston. She was born at Thoresby in Nottinghamshire, about the year 1694. The first dawn of her genius opened so auspiciously, that her father resolved to cultivate the advantages of nature by a sedulous attention to her early instruction. A classical education was not then given to English ladies of qnality, when Lady Mary received one of the best. Under the same preceptors as Viscount Newark her brother, she acquired the elements of the Greek, Latin, and French languages, with the greatest success. Her studies were afterwards superintended by Bishop Burnet, and her translation of the Enchiridon of Epictetus received his emendations: this translation, she said, in the letter that accompanied it, "was the work of one. week of my solitude," and it was to uninterrupted leisure and private habits of life, that she was much indebted for so complete an improvement of her mind. In 1712, she married E. W. Montague, Esq. a man possessed of solid, rather than brilliant parts; but the soundness of his judgment, and the gracefulness of his oratory, distinguished him in Parliament. During the first two years of her marriage, Lady Mary had lived in retirement at Warnecliffe lodge near Sheffield, where her son was born; but in 1794, Mr. Montague was appointed one of the lords of the treasury, which introduced them at court, and into those distinguished circles in which she was so well formed to shine. In 1716, Mr. Montague was appointed ambassador to the Ottoman Porte; and in August the same year, he commenced an arduous journey over the continent of Europe, to Constantinople, accompanied by Lady Mary, whose conjugal affection reconciled her to the dangers unavoidably to be encountered in passing the savage Turkish territory; the native horrors of which were then doubled by those of war. They travelled through Germany, Bohemia, and Hungary; great part of this journey was performed during the winter, and the Danube being frozen, they were obliged to travel entirely by land: the route they took was very little traversed, even by the Hungarians themselves, who generally chose to wait for the conveniency of going down the Danube. It was April, 1717, before they arrived at Adrianople, after a journey of eight months; and in a letter, addressed to the Princess of Wales, Lady Mary says, "I have now finished a journey that has not been undertaken by any Christian, since the time of the Greek emperors." Whilst on her journey, and during her residence at the Levant, she amused herself, and delighted her friends, by a regular corre. spondence, chiefly to her sister, the countess of Mar, lady Rich, some other ladies of the court, and to Mr. Pope. The ambassador and his suite remained two months at Adrianople to which city the sultan, Achmet III. had then removed his court from Constantinople. During her stay at the latter city, her active mind was readily engaged in the pursuit of objects, so new to her, as the Turkish capital presented. Among her other talents, was a great facility of learning languages; and in the assemblage of ten embassies from different countries, of which her society was chiefly composed, she had daily opportunities of practising them. She began the study of the Turkish, under the tuition of one of Mr. Wortley's dragomans or interpreters, who compiled for her use a grammar, and vocabulary, in Turkish and Italian. In one of her letters, she says, "I am in great danger of losing my English; I live in a place that very well represents the tower of Babel: in Pera, where I now am, they speak fifteen languages, and what is worse, there are ten of these spoken in my own family. My grooms are Arabs; my footmen French, English, and Germans; my nurse an Armenian; my housemaids Greeks; (half a dozen Greeks;) my steward an Italian, and my guards Turks. There was a custom then prevalent in Turkey, though unknown in England, into which lady Mary examined, and at length became perfectly satisfied with its efficacy. It was that of inoculating with variolous matter, in order to produce a milder disease, and to prevent the ravages made by the small-pox. The process was so simple, that she did not hesitate to apply it to her son, then three years old. She descrbed her success in a letter from Belgrade, to Mr. Wortley at Pera: "The boy was engrafted last Tuesday, and is at this time singing and playing, very impatient for his supper: I pray God, I may be able to give as good an account of him in my next. On her return to England, she strenuously advocated the system, and it is to her we are indebted for its introdue. tion into this country. Mr. Wortley's negotiations failing of their intended effect, he received letters of recal under the privy seal, Oct. 1717, which was countersigned by his friend Addison, then secretary of state. He did not commence his journey home till June 6, 1718: they returned through the Archipelago, landed at Tunis, and having crossed the Mediterranean, arrived at Genoa, and from thence passed Turin to Lyons and Paris, and reached England, Oct. 20, 1718. In a short time after her return, lady Mary was solicited by Pope to fix her summer residence at Twickenham, and in retirement there she enjoyed the literary society which resorted to his villa. But the ties of friend. ship, which existed between them, were not of long duration. Lady Mary espoused Sir Robert Walpole's politics, while Pope adhered to Bolingbroke and Swift: he also became jealous of her partiality to Lord Harvey. Lady Mary had besides omitted to consult him on any new poetical productions, and when he had been proposing emendations, would say, “Come, no touching, Pope, for what is good, the world will give to you, and what is bad will leave to me." Lady Montague continued to shine both in the world of fashion and that of literature, till the year 1739, when her health declined, and she formed the resolution of passing the rest of her days abroad. Having obtained Mr. Wortley's consent, she left England, and proceeded to Venice, and determined to settle in the North of Italy. In her letters to her husband, she gives an animated description of the Italian manners, with which she appears to have been pleased. She made a short tour to Rome and Naples, and returned to Brescia, one of the palaces of which city she inhabited. Her summer residence was Louverre, on the shores of the lake Isco, in the Venetian territory, where she had been attracted by some mineral waters, that she found beneficial to her health. There she took possession of a deserted palace, planned her garden, and was happy in the superin tendance of her vineyards and silk worms. About the year 1751, she quitted her solitude, and settled at Venice, where she remained till 1716, when, on the death of Mr. Wortley, she was prevailed on by her daughter, the countess of Bute, to return to England, and after an absence of 22 years, she arrived once more on the shores of her native land. But age, and ill health, had impaired her constitution, and a gradual decline terminated her life, in the 73rd year of her age, on the 21st of Aug. 1762. In the cathedral at Litchfield a cenotaph is erected to her memory, by the widow THE ESSENCE OF ANECDOTE AND WIT. 175 RECIPES TO KILL THE DEVIL of J. W. Inge, Esq. "to express her gratitude for the benefit she had herself received, from the alleviating art," introduced by lady Montague. The letters of the marchioness de Sevigné, have been frequently compared to those of lady Mary; but I cannot allow my fair countrywoman to yield the palm to her rival; her letters are written with equal elegance of style and playfulness of manner, and from the superiority of subject, possess that intrinsic interest of which Madame de Sevigne's are destitute. Both as an authoress, and as being indebted to her for the introduction of an inestimable art to her country, I think our sex has reason to be proud of Lady Mary Montague. M. The devil would you kill, BRAHMINS. IT is my firm persuasion that the Brahmins are felt by the mass of the natives to be a voluptuous, self-indulgent, oppressive class; a burden upon their industry; a barrier to their ambition; but they are forced to bend, and why?— From the Brahmins they receive information on subjects which they are artfully forbidden to look into for themselves, such as the histories of their gods -the laws and observances of their religion-the rules of government and civil polity-the distinctions of the seasons-the influence of the stars. The Brahmins conduct all the festivals, identify themselves with all their pleasures, preside at their assemblies. It was thus in the darkest era of the Christian history; such was the relation between the Catholic priests and monks, and the ignorant enslaved peasantry.Sketches in India for the Fireside. HINDOO RELIGION. THE city of Benares struck me at once as a spot of the grossest superstition; a dwelling of an avaricious and designing priesthood, and in which every vice is perpetrated undsr the mask of religion. The Brahmins, (or priests,) highest spiritual and temporal authority, possessing among the Hindoos both the fatten on the credulity of their worshippers. Religion here, as in the darker ages of Europe, assumes a shape, the curse and bane of the people, It paralyzes the energies, and corrupts the very vitals of those whom it should support its ministers enjoy all the pleasures and luxuries of this life; and to the deluded wretch who with tears in his eyes brings the offeringss industriously acquired by the sweat of his brow, they point to the heavens, and in promising future happiness, fail not to menace everlasting punishment for the smallness of the offering.-Sketches of India. |
