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he exclaimed in a tone of suppressed agony.-“What does to temptation was the cause of her guilt, I am bound in conthis mean?— Tell me, Mary, I conjure you !"
science to marry her.” " This way, Come this way,” repeated Mary, trying to “ To marry her," exclaimed Mary, while she could not fore him down a different path, but in vain ; when, sup- help rejoicing at that moment that Fanny was no more. ported under the arms of two drunken soldiers, and more “ Yes, to marry her!" replied Lewellyn ; “you know than half intoxicated herself, flushed with intemperance, you yourself impûted all the mischief that has happened, to dressed in the loose and gay attire of a courtezan, and sing- my going for a soldier.” ng with all the violence of wanton mirth, they beheld « Not exactly so," replied Mary: “I imputed it to the Fauns! After Lewellyn's departure she had fallen a vic-war." tim to the flatteries and attentions of an officer, and had at “ That is much the same thing," retorted Lewellyn has. length become a follower of the camp.
tily ; but Mary was of a different opinion. “Therefore," At sight of Fanny in this situation, Mary uttered a loud continued Lewellyn, “as I long very much to see her-do, serram; but Lewellyn, stood motionless and lifeless as a my dear cousin, do go for her this afternoon." tatue with his eyes fixed on the still lovely, though de The season of self-command was over. Mary got up; gi aded form before him. But the scream of Mary had at- she sat down again; she turned pale, then red; and at last ti acted the attention of Fanny; and her eye, quick as she burst into tears. lightning, saw and recognised Lewellyn. She also scream. “What is the matter ?” cried Lewellyn, “what has hapel, but it was in the tone of desperation; and rushing for- pened ?" wards, she fell madly laughing on the ground. The sol. “ Fanny-Fanny is ill in bed,” faltered out Mary, diers, concluding she fell from excessive mirth, laughed “ But not dying, I hope ?" answered Lewellyn, tottering Isader than she did ; and, in spite of her struggles, conveyed to a chair. her in their arms up the road that led to the camp. Le “ Not-not far from it,” said Mary, resolved now to tell wellyn had sprung forward to catch her as she was falling, him the whole truth. but Mary bad forcibly withheld him--but that was the “Jet me see her-I will see her,” he exclaimed, staggerlast effort of expiring energy; with tottering steps, and in ing towards the door. nlent agony, he accompanied Mary to her lodging, and ere “ It is too late!” cried Mary, forcing him into a chair; two hours had elapsed, he was raving in the delirium of a “ but remember, dearest Lewellyn, that before she died, you bever; and Mary began to fear that the beloved friend had kindly forgiven all her offences towards you." when war had spared to her would have returned only to “She had none to forgive,” fiercely replied Lewellyn, redie the victim of a worthless woman. Day was slowly begin membering at that moment nothing but her merits; and he ning to dawn, and Lewellyn was fallen into a perturbed insisted on seeing her corpse, if she was really dead. slumber, when Mary, as she stood mournfully gazing on “She is buried, also," replied Mary, almost piqued at this his altered features, heard a gentle tap at her window, and, obstinate attachment to an unworthy girl, while her maftly approaching it, beheld, with no small emotion, the faithful love and modest worth were unregarded ; but she wretched Fanny herself.
soon lost all resentment, in terror and pity at the angnish "Go away-go away !" cried Mary in a low voice, put- which now overwhelmed Lewellyn. ting her lips to the casement.
At first it showed itself in vehement exclamations and "I can't go till I have seen him," replied Fanny in a declarations that she should not die—that she should still bare voice.—“ I know he is here-and, for the love of be bis wife; but at length he sunk into a state of hopeless God!" said she, falling on her knees, « let me ask his par despondency, and, throwing himself across his bed, for two don."
days all the efforts of Mary were vain to rouse him from * Impossible !" replied Mary, gently unlocking the door, his mournful stupor. On the third day he became comand dosing it after her as she stood at the door." He is posed ; and taking Mary's hand, he said, ill, perhaps dying the sight of you"
“ My dear, good cousin, lead me, pray lead me to her * Has killed him, no doubt,” interrupted Fanny, turning grave.' erea paler than before, and full of the dreadful irritation This request was what Mary had dreaded. erisquent on intoxication after its effects have subsided. “1-I do not know which it is," replied Mary.
But do you think he will not curse me in his last mo “ Then we can inquire,” coldly answered Lewellyn. ments, as they say his parents did ?”
“ No, no,-if you are determined- I think I can find it," "Oh, no, I'm sure he will not."
said Mary, recollecting that she could show him some other " Do you think he will pray for me ?--Ask him, Mary; grave for hers. tak him to pray for me,” she continued with horrible eager “ I am determined,” answered Lewellyn; and with slow
steps they set off for the burying-ground. "I will, I will,” replied Mary; “but for mercy's sake, When there, Mary led him to a grave newly made, but away, lest he wake and know your voice !"
the flowers with which it had been strewed were withered. "Well
, I will go I will go. I know I am not worthy Lewellyn threw himself across the turf, and darting an to speak either to him or you ; but no one is waking but angry glance at Mary, said : you and me, Mary; so no one sees how you are degraded.” « These flowers might have been renewed, I think ; how. "I did not mean that ; I did not indeed,” cried Mary, ever, this spot shall
be planted now, as well as strewed :"
and Mary did not contradict him. We shall not dweli upon the interview of the lost girl But, unluckily, at this moment, a woman, whose mother wah ber lover, and the generosity of Mary tried to the was buried in the grave which Lewellyn mistook for utternust of woman's endurance. But fate removed her Fanny's, came up to them with fresh flowers to throw on it; meriserable rival; who, on leaving Mary's cottage, plunged and before Mary could prevent her, she demanded what
despair into a neighbouring stream and was drowned. Lewellyn meant by lying on her mother's grave. Nor durst Mary confess to Lewellyn that his worthless Lewellyn, starting up, replied that he thought Fanny ristress had perished by her own deed. He next day in- Hastings lay buried there. isted upon seeing Fanny, and every day he wondered that “ She," answered the woman : “no, poor thing! she
drowned herself, and is buried in the cross-ways!" "I feared, and she feared,” replied Mary, blushing, “ that Lewellyn gave a deep groan, and sunk senseless on the ter presence might agitate you too much.”
ground ; nor did he recover till he had been conveyed home * Nonsense," replied Lewellyn, rather pettishly: “ it would and was laid on his bed, his head resting on the arm of do me good rather; for in spite of all Mary,--in spite of Mary. all, I feel;-I feel that I love her still.”
When he opened his eyes and saw her, he gave her such Indeed !" cried Mary, turning pale.
a look of wo !_and refused for some days all nourishment 1 Yez," answered Lewellyn, with a deep sigh ; 6 and 1 and all consolation, as he had done before ; while Mary, sia convinced that, as my going away leaving her exposed rendered desperate by his obstinate resolution to die
, lost ay
barsting into tears of pity.
the never came.
A clergyman, not quite a hundred miles from this piare, water out of the wells of salvation, without noury pro spring-well in the parson's garden, at which the leasted truder of his text and sermon, the reverend gentleman re.
my water, I'se send a bullet through you."-Edin. Paper
power of exertion ; and after one day of great anxiety, “ Tell him what?" cried. Lewellyn, gading that Marv when she left him for the night, she felt as if she should hesitated. never be able to leave her room again.
« Tell him, it was our wish, that he should forget this The next morning, when Lewellyn awoke from his dis- worthless girl who has forsaken him, (remember Tradi. turbed slumbers, he was surprised not to see Mary watch- lyn, it was they who called her such nanies, and well, ing by his bedside ; and though resolved not to cat, he still and make you his wife. It is not pretty to praise orie's felt disappointed that his kind nurse was not there to in- self, I know, Lewelly," continued Mary, blushing, het vite him to do so. But hour after hour elapsed, and still I may repeat what they said, surely." no Mary appeared ; and Lewellyn's heart died within him,
“ And what did they say ?" asked Lewellyn. as the probability struck him, that she had at length sunk
“ Why, they said I was a very good girl ; and the ti po under the accumulated fatigue and sorrow which he had sure I should make you happy !" occasioned her.
“ Happy !_make me happy !""' cried Lewellyn war. The idea was insupportable; he forgot his languid des. fully ; “ but you are a good girl-a very good girl
, Mar pondence ; he forgot regret for the dead Fanny, in fear for he added, puiting his arm round her waist, and pressing ter the living Mary; aud hastily dressing himself, resolved to to him as he spoke. go in search of her.
This circumstance, trival as it was, invigorated the hoppa Still, respect forbade him to enter her chamber ; and hav. of Mary, and gave her courage to proceed." Now hi ing with some difficulty reached the stair-case, he stopped my resolution, Lewellyn !—from my childhood to the t.om. there, irresolute how to proceed. Had he entered her room, sent hour, I have lived but for you and your dear tumbo. he would have seen with some emotion, I trust, what a tunate parents ; to them and you_my health, my time wretched garret and miserable bed Mary was contented
and my strength have been cheerfully devoted; but gout rise, in order to accommodate the ungrateful object of her has now nearly exhausted me, and I feel that my power of affection :—but, as I said before, a feeling of delicacy and exertion is nearly over ; for I see, that though I have respect forbade Lewellyn to go further, and he contented loved you through all your sickness and yonr sorror, erd himself with calling Mary by her name. Still no Mary an- love you as fondly now as if you were still in the pride ardi swered : again he called, but in vain ; for, though Mary bloom of health and youth - I see, wretch that I am ! did hear him the second time, she was not in a humour to it is with difficulty you speak kindly to me; and that to reply.
so odious to you at times, that"She had lain awake, revolving in her own mind the “ Odious 1-you odions to me!" exclaimed Letvlya whole of her past existence ; and she found that her life starting up with unusual animation ; “ you Mary! by had been uniformly a life of wearisome exertion, uncheered friend ! my nurse! my preserver ! my all! now". but by the consciousness of having done her duty ; to be “ Then promise me not to give way to this deadly for sure, that consciousness was a sure blessing, and Mary
Lewellyn." had found it so ; but at this moment, worn down as she “ I will promise you any thing," cried Lewellyn, teta was both in body and mind, existence seemed to have lost derly. every charm; and she resolved, like Lewellyn, to lie down
“ For, mark my words, Lewellyn-I will not livet is and die. Indifferent, therefore, even to Lewellyn himself, witness your death-I am ill-I am very ill ; and url she was lying still in her sleepless bed when she heard Le assured ti at you will consent to live, I will take no for wellyn's voice calling her in an accent of anxiety.
no remedies, but give myself up to the languor which is coa. The heart so lately quiet began to beat violently ; her suming me." imagined indifference immediately vanished ; and raising “ Mary !--dearest Mary!" cried Lewellyn, catching her herself up in her bed, she listened eagerly to hear the wel. fondly to his bosom, “ you shall live for my sake, as [ come sound again. “ So ! he misses me he wishes for me live for yours! We will either live or die together; 2.
- he is alarmed for me !" thought Mary ; and in another from this moment I will shake off this unworthy sorruim. moment she distinctly heard Lewellyn at her door, saying,
He said no more : for Mary, more unable to bear it through the key-hole, “ Mary! why, Mary ! dear, dear than sorrow, fainted in his arms, and for some time the Mary ! for mercy's sake speak to me!"
terrified Lewellyn feared that she was gone for ever It was the first moment of pleasure that Mary had she revived at last, and in a few weeks, to the sati-faction known for many wecks; and telling him she would be of the whole town, to whom Mary was an ohject both down presently, she hastly dressed herself, and, full of affection and respect, the lovers were united at the farm something like renewed hope, joined Leivellyn. But with church. Not long after, a gentleman, to whom their sart his fears for Mary's health had subsided his inclination to exertion. She found him as she had left him the night be- table farm on his estate, and Mary shines as much as 4
was known, put them in possession of a small but contah fore_stretched on his bed, the picture of wo, and again re- wife and mother, as she had before done as a relation 23 solved to refuse all the nourishment which she offered hiin. friend.
This was more than she could bear with patience. The But the sound of the drum and fife always fades the cocheek, so lately flushed with hope, became pale with disap- lour of Mary's cheek ; and whenever a recruiting, Torty pointment ; and sinking on the foot of the bed, she exclaim- passes her gate, Mary bastens into a back room tillit endeavour to kcep alive in you, or in inyeelt, an existence avoid it ; while Mary, shutting the door aner her with Firm lyn, to see you so very indifferent to me, so very unkind ?" war, and all that belongs to it; and let who will desire a Lewellyn, at these words, raised himself on his elbow,
-my boys, except in case of an invasion, shall dever, neret and looked at her with surprise and interest.
be soldiers." “ Cruc), cruel Lewellyn !" she continued, rendered regardless of all restraint by despair, “it is not enough, that and seen another obtain the love which I would have died triumph over me still even in her" grave ? Must I see you hioners from the liberty of drawing water from the
to die , ” to allow him to answer return to his native town, tell bim"
, and should our deluded'son be still living and ever beelds of Sawaniom out if you come here again and this
COLUMN FOR THE LADIES.
tion depends entirely upon fancy, and women all over the
world talk better than men. Have they a character to MRS. INCHIBALD.
pourtray, or a figure to describe, they give but three traits We have been so much pleased with the good sense and of one or the other, and the character is known, or the high spirit of the subjoined letter, which has accidentally fallen figure placed before our eyes. Why? From the monuinto our way in a pleasing book of theatrical gossip and scraps, ment of susceptibility, their imaginations, their fancies republished by the survivors of the gentleman to whom the ceive lively impressions from those principal traits, and letter is addressed, that we hasten to give it all the publi- they paint those impressions with the same vivacity with city in our power. It contains an admirable lesson. Because which they receive them. Get a woman of fancy warm in Mis. Inchbald did not choose to sacrifice her time and tastes, conversation, she shall produce a hundred charming images, and expend her money in the way her friends thought fit, among which there shall not be one indelicate or coarse. and chose rather to live to herself and her duties than to Warm a man on the same subject, he will probably find their frivolities, they were pleased to call her penurious, stronger allusions, but neither be so brilliant nor so chaste. and suspect her of being a little mad. Mr. Taylor, one of -Sherlock. her friends, ventured to remonstrate, and his epistle called
TO A LADY WITH A VIOLET. forth her reply,
In aspect meek, in dwelling low, “My dear sir, I read your letter with gratitude, be
I hide me in the grassy lea ; cause I have had so many proofs of your friendship for me,
But twine me round thy modest brow that I do not once doubt of your kind intentions.
Lady! the proudest flower ['u be. "You have taken the best method possible on such an occasion, not to hurt my spirits; for had you suspected me
PROTESTANT AND CATHOLIC. to be insane, or even nervous, you would have mentioned WHERE a priest and a poor curate were left to themselves the subject with more caution, and by so doing, might have in a remote and poor parish of Ireland, they were often the given me alarm.
best friends possible. They were, in fact, forced together by “That the world should say I have lost my senses, I can readily forgive, when I recollect that a few years ago it the love of congenial society, and the social propensitics o said the same of Mrs. Siddons.
Irishmen. The following is an illustrative instance, and * I am now fifty-two years old, and yet if I were to dress, a good story to hoot. We find it recorded in a new publipaint, and visit, no one would call my understanding in cation called “ Wild Sports of the West,” which few would question; or if I were to beg from all my acquaintance a guess to mean Rabbit-chasing and Otter-hunting in the guinea or two, as subscription for a foolish book, no one sister island. Fould accuse me of a varice. But because I choose that re “Och, hon!" exclaimed the otter-killer, “isn't it a murder tirement suitable to my years, and think it niy duty to sup to see the clargy king such fools of themselves now! port two sisters, instead of one servant, I am accused of When I was young, priests and ministers were band and madness. I might plunge in debt, be confined in prison, glove. It seems to me but yesterday, when Father Patt a pensioner on The Literary Fund,' or be gay as a girl of Joyce, the Lord be good to him ! lent Mr. Carson a congreeighteen, and yet be considered as perfectly in my senses; gation.”. but because I choose to live in independence, affluence to me, “ Eh ! what, Antony !” said the colonel ; "a congregawith a mind serene and prospects unclouded, I am supposed tion appears rather an extraordinary article to borrow.” to be mad. In making use of the word afuence, I do not The otter-killer explains the mystery thus : mean to exclude some inconveniencies annexed, but this is “We were just as comfortable as we could be, when a the case in every state. I wish for more suitable lodgings, currier stops at the door with a letter, which he said was but I am unfortunately averse to a street, after living so for Mr. Carson. Well, when the minister opens it, he got long in a square ; but with all my labour to find
as white as a sheet, and I thought he would have fainted. not fix on a spot such as I wish to make my residence for Father Patt crossed himself. Arrah, Dick,' says he, the life, and till I do, and am confined to London, the beauti- Lord stand between you and evil!' is there any thing fal view from my present apartment of the Surrey hills and wrong?"_“I'm ruined," says he, ' for some bad member has the Thames, invites me to remain here, for I believe that wrote to the bishop, and told him that I have no congregathere is neither such fine air nor so fine a prospect in all tion, because you and I are so intimate; and he's coming
I am, besides, near my sisters here; and the down to-morrow with the dane to see the state of things. time when they are not with me is so wholly engrossed in Och, hone !' says he, “ I'm fairly ruined.”—“And is that all writing, that I want leisure for the convenience of walking that's fretten ye r' says the priest.—' Arrah, dear Dick,'out. Retirement in the country would, perhaps, have been for they called each other by their Cristen pames,' is this more advisable than in London, but my sisters did not like all? If it's a congregation you want, ye shall have a dacent to accompany me, and I did not like to leave them behind. one to-morrow, and lave that to me :-and now, we'll take There is, besides
, something animating in the reflection, that our drink, and not matter the bishop a fig.' I am in London though partaking none of its gaieties.” “ Well, next day, sure enough, down comes the bishop,
Woman.--Woman is a very nice and a very complicated and a great retinue along with him ; and there was Mr. machine. Her springs are infinitely delicate, and differ Carson ready to receive him. 'I hear,' says the bishop, from those of a man as the work of a repeating watch does mighty stately, “ that you have no congregation.'—- In faith, from that of a town clock. Look at her body-how deli- your holiness, says he, you'll be soon able to tell that, cately formed ! Examine her senses--how exquisite and -and in he walks him to the church, and there were sitpice Observe her understanding, how subtle and acute! ting threescore well-dressed men and women, and all
of But look into her heart—there is the watch work, com them as devout as if they were going to be anointed; for posed of parts so minute in themselves, and so wonderfully that blessed morning, Father Patt whipped mass over bebe clearly comprehended. The perception of woman is as combined, that they must be seen by 'a microscopio eye to fore you had time to bless yourself
, and the clanest of the
flock was before the bishop in the church, and ready for quick as lightning. Her penetration is intuition I had al- his holiness. To see that all behaved properly, Father Patt must said instinct. By a glance of her eye she shall draw had hardly put off the vestment till he slipped on a cola deep and just conclusion. Ask her how she formed it, more, and there he sat in a back seat like any other of the he cannot anstrer the question. As the perception of woo congregation. I was near the bishop's reverence; he was man is surprisingly quick, so their soul's imaginations are seated in an arm-chair belonging to the priest--"Come here, wcommonly susceptible. Few of them have culture enough Mr Carson," says he some enemy of yours,' says the street to write ; but when they do, how lively are their pictures? | old gentleman, wanted to injure you with me. But I am lor antrated their descriptions! But if few women write
, now fully satisfied. And turning to the dane, " By this they all talk ! and every man may judge of them in this book? says he, I didn't see a claner congregation this solul, from every circle' he goes into. Spirit in conversa month of Sundays !'”
ILLUSTRATION OF THE TRUCK SYSTEM.-- The cruelty
which is inflicted on the workman by the payment of his ORIGINAL AND SELECTED.
wages in goods, is often very severe. The little purchase CONVERSATION OF AUTHORS AND ARTISTS.-Wal- necessary for the comfort of his wife and children, perhaps
the medicines he occasionally requires for them in illness, pole, who had a good deal of experience of them, says, “I must all be made through the medium of barter, and he is have always rather escaped the society of authors. An obliged to waste his time in arranging an exchange, in author talking of his own works, or censuring those of which the goods which he has been compelled to accept for others, is to me a dose of ipecacuanha. I like only a few, his labour are invariably taken at a lower price than tlink
at which his master charged them to him. The father of who can in company forget their authorship, and remem
the family perhaps, writhing under the agonies of the worla ber plain sense. The conversation of artists is still worse. ache, is obliged to make his hasty bargain with the village Vanity and envy are the main ingredients. One detests surgeon, ere he will remove the cause of his pain ; or the vanity, because it shocks one's own vanity.” The same
disconsolate mother is compelled to sacrifice her depreciated writer gives some good counsel to young authors. “Youth goods in exchange for the last receptacle of her departed of
spring.–Babbage's Economy of Manufactures. is prone to censure. A young man of genius expects to
THE SPOONERY.-By what process does a man born make a world for himself; as he gets older, he finds he with a silver spoon in his mouth,-taught nonsense verses must take it as it is. It is impudent in a young author to
at Eton,—wenching, driving, and the habits of the spend. make any enemies whatever. He should not attack any and lower classes of society, their wants, their feelings
thrift at the university,– learn the condition of the middle living person. Pope was, perhaps, too refined, a jesuit, a opinions, and habits? But if chance gives him a glimpo professor of authorship ; and his arts to establish his repu- of the circumstances of other ranks of life, made half intation were infinite, and sometimes, perhaps, exceeded the telligible to him by the reading of a newspaper or a novel, bounds of severe integrity. But in this he was an ex
-by what singular gift of nature does he, whose personal ample of prudence, that he wrote no satire till his fortune of the knowledge of its minute operations? He may un
habits are in constant war with business, become possessed was made.” The advice is good—we cannot so much ad- derstand the law of usury, from his dealings in youth with mire the motive of the course prescribed.
the Jews; he may not be altogether unacquainted with the · FEMALE QUARRELS.- A gentleman, hearing that two | law of debtor and creditor, and the doctrine of profits, from of his female relations had quarrelled, inquired, “Dia having figured in incipient actions, and paid twenty, fifty, they call each other ugly?"_“No.”—“Or old ?"—“ No." | may have learnt as a magistrate at the sessions, or a grand
or a hundred per cent for long credit. Jurisprudence he --" Well, well, I shall soon make them friends."
juryman at the assizes: the laws of real property, and the Bishop BURNET was a very absent man. It is related, question of the general registry from bis attorney, with that dining one day with the Duchess of Marlborough, whom he is deeply mortgaged; the corn-laws from his after her husband's disgrace, he compared the great general criminal law from committing poachers : these have been
steward ; the poor-laws from his tenants at quarter-day; to Belisarius.—“ But then” said the Duchess,“ how comes generally the incidental lessons--the casual experiences of it that such a man was so miserable, and so universally a legislator. He started in life flushed with the possession deserted." _“Oh, madam, he has such a brimstone of a of wealth beyond the powers of his mind to spend usefully
frequented the turf, passed through the gambling house, CONTEMPORARY JUDGMENTS.—Burnet speaks of one
escaped with a reduced fortune, or else became sordidy
poor. In the one case he became sober and wise, and turned Prior," and Whitelocke, of “ one Milton, a blind man.". his knowledge of life to account by making laws, as if all Heath, an obscure chronicler of the civil wars, says, “ One men were fit for the galleys, irrecoverably vicious, or honest Milton, since stricken with Vlindness, wrote against only when they have discovered from the effects of their
In the other case, Salmasius, and composed an'impudent and blasphemous vices that its seeming is the best policy, book, called Iconoclastes !"
he presented the beau idéal of the place-hunter. West.
minster Review. ENCOURAGEMENT TO LITERARY Men. One day a Number Publisher of the Row discovered the lodgings of
Several communications are in types, but are necessarily delayed Gibbon the historian, waited on him, and said, “Sir, I am for want of room.
The Third Monthly Part of the SCHOOLMASTER will be published on about publishing a History of England, done by several Wednesday the 31st inst., containing the Four September Numbers good hands. I understand you have a knack at them and Johnstone's MontuLY POLITICAL Register or NEWS AND SCOT
Tish Lists : Price Sd. there things, I should be glad to give you every encourage The Register will, in future, like the SchoolMASTER, consist of 16 ment.”—The GREAT author was more offended than bort of news given in the first and second numbers, the Spirit of the
pages, super-royal octavo, and will contain, in addition to the same enough.
London Journals for the month, &c. &c.
+++ The principles of this Monthly Newspaper are decidedly liberal, ECONOMY.-—"A slight knowledge of human nature will and thoroughly independent of every party. The grcat demand for show," says Mr Colquhoun, “ that when a man gets on a
single Numbers of this Register has induced the Editor to double its
size and increase the price only one halfpenny. little in the world he is desirous of getting on a little fur.
CONTENTS OF NO. XIII. ther." Such is the growth of provident habits, that it has
All Hallow Eve.-The Scotch Hallow E'en........ been said, if a journeyman lays by the first five shillings, Curious Traits of Feudal Manners..... his fortune is made. Mr. William Hall, who has bestowed An Old English Baronet's Opinion of Modern Manners......195
Fashionables.... great attention on the state of the labouring poor, declares he never knew an instance of one who had saved money The Sticket Minister.... coming to the parish. And he adds, moreover, “those in
One of Sir H. Davy's Experiments.............
Notes on Germany... dividuals who save money are better workmen; if they do ELEMENTS OF THOUGHT - What have I to do with Politics? not the work better, they behave better, and are more res Nothing............
THE STORY-TELLER.-The Soldier's Return.. pectable; and I would sooner have in my trade a hundred
COLUMN FOR THE LADIES.-Mrs. Inehbaid, &c.. men who save money, than two hundred men who would spend every shilling they get. In proportion as individuals SCRAPS, Original and Selected.... save a little money, their morals are much better; they hus- EDINBURGU : Printed by and tor Jour Jou NSTONE, 19, $t, la band that little, and there is a superior tone given to their morals, and they behave better for knowing they have a Bridge Street, Edinburgh ; by JOUN MACLEOD, and ATKINSON & Co., little stake in society."
Booksellers, Glasgow; and sold hy all Booksellery and Vendera un
193 ... 194
The Barn Owl....
Protestant and Catholic..
EDINBURGH WEEKLY MAGAZINE.
CONDUCTED BY JOHN JOHNSTONE.
THE SCHOOL MASTER IS ABROAD.-LORD BROUGHAM.
No. 14.-Vol. I. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 1832.
PLACES OF PUBLIC WORSHIP IN shall arise a few years hence. Without considere EDINBURGH.
able trouble, which they will not take, and ex
pense, which they will not incur, the doors of This article has appeared in the Chronicle. I every church are shut against them, -for no one also give it here, as the subject is one of interest, will go to church here, that has not a seat ;-the far beyond Edinburgh ; many town readers may door-keepers would soon cure any one of that see the Schoolmaster, when they do not see the fancy.—Many hundreds of young women, also, Chronicle.
come up every year to service.—They don't know
much about taking seats in church ; and they It may be deemed daring, if not absolutely pro- cannot, or think they cannot, afford the expense of fane, to say that, in this capital of a Presbyterian them ; and genteel families now,—that is all facountry, and in all our great towns, the religious milies,—would as soon be seen with their servants discipline of those who most require instruction in their box at the playhouse, as in their pew at is very little cared for, so far as regards facilita- church. The consequences are soon seen.— A still ting the easy means of attendance on public wor more interesting description of persons to our feel. ship. Two good, or at least fair, discourses are ings, are the decent poor, driven with their young preached in all the stated churches every Sabbath, families from the country parishes and small towns, to all who are able to pay exorbitantly high for by misfortune, in search of precarious employseats, and who have decent clothes to appear in ment, destitute and miserable, scarcely able to them. Although the two new churches projected keep a roof over their heads, much less to pay were built to-morrow, they would be but à drop seat-rent-tossed about from place to place, daily in the bucket to the wants of this city,—to the falling back, and growing worse off,— most pressing and urgent wants,-those of the “ The world not their friend, nor the world's law." stranger, the very young, and the very poor: yet, The doors of our comfortable churches, and snug this is not so much from mere lack of space, meeting-houses, are strictly closed against their but, of open, free, inviting church accommodation ragged penury, should they have sufficient fortito all who will accept of it. It may be thought tude to shew their wretchedness in our goodly tou daring to affirm, that, in this city, while the Christian fellowships. Many such persons repair hospitable door of the low tippling-house stands to large towns with good habits ; but how are they mpen night and day, those of the churches are to retain them, or impart them to their children? rigidly shut against the poor, by pride, and by in their own villages, their children might have Mammon. Religion in its modes is become, in this grown up well instructed and respectable ;-but Presbyterian country, as exclusive as are fashion what becomes of them among us, where the chief
In our finely decorated temples, attention they receive is, to be taunted for their there is clearly no place for the humbly-dressed residence in the Cowgate or Grassmarket-regions Christian. On liberal Christian principles, this is somewhere far beyond the pale of humanity, as it lamentable enough, but it were less to be regret- subsists in the comfortable and afluent streets
, and ted, were more humble places of worship freely a thousand degrees beyond the line of the Christiand widely opened to him. This, however, in all its anity of our fine churches. bearings, is, perhaps, rather a question for states, We have heard of a mission being established and for synods, and assemblies, than for the local in some of the remote half discovered regions, anthorities,
We must, therefore, confine our known only to such daring navigators as the police selves to Edinburgh, to which there come up every Captain Stuart. It is impossible that any munici. Jason, for one purpose or other, some thousands pality could completely remedy the evils of which of young men, or rather boys, remote from any we complain, but surely something might be done thing like moral superintendence. They form a to prevent their worst consequences. Sometimes, mere fraction of our floating population, but a indeed, we have seen a feeble attempt made, which most important part of the men of the world that I soon languished away.