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a new and more pleasing current. She has the most of memory and love. Mr Francis Edgeworth, the harmonious way of throwing in explanations-in- youngest son of the present Mrs Edgeworth, and forming without embarrassing. A very large family of course Miss Edgeworth’s youngest brother, has party assemble daily in this charming room, young a family of little ones, who seem to enjoy the freeand old bound alike to the spot by the strong cords | dom of the library as much as their elders : to set

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Miss Edgeworth's House. these little people right if they are wrong; to rise | decay or consumption which carried off Miss Aus. from her table to fetch them a toy, or even to save ten seemed only to increase the powers of her mind. a servant a journey; to mount the steps and find a She wrote while she could hold a pen or pen volume that escapes all eyes but her own, and having and the day preceding her death composed some done so, to find exactly the passage wanted, are stanzas replete with fancy and vigour. Shortly after hourly employments of this most unspoiled and ad- her death, her friends gave to the world two novels, mirable woman. She will then resume her pen, and, entitled Northanger Abbey and Persuasion, the first what is more extraordinary, hardly seem to have being her earliest composition, and the least valueven frayed the thread of her ideas; her mind is so able of her productions, while the latter is a highly rightly balanced, everything is so honestly weighed, finished work, especially in the tender and pathetic that she suffers no inconvenience from what would passages. The great charm of Miss Austen's fictions disturb and distract an ordinary writer.'

lies in their truth and simplicity. She gives us plain representations of English society in the middle

and higher classes-sets us down, as it were, in the JANE AUSTEN, a truly English novelist, was born duces us to various classes of persons, whose charac

country-house, the villa, and cottage, and introon the 16th December 1775, at Steventon, in Hamp- ters are displayed in ordinary intercourse and most shire, of which parish her father was rector. Mr

life-like dialogues and conversation. There is no Austen is represented as a man of refined taste and acquirements, who guided, though he did not live attempt to express fine things, nor any scenes of surto witness the fruits of his daughter's talents. After prising daring or distress, to make us forget that we the death of the rector, his widow and two daughters Such materials would seem to promise little for the

are among commonplace mortals and real existence. retired to Southampton, and subsequently to the village of Chawton, in the same county, where the novel reader, yet Miss Austen's minute circum

stances and common details are far from tiresome.. novels of Jane Austen were written. Of these, four They all aid in developing and discriminating her were published anonymously in her lifetime, namely; characters, in which her chief strength lies, and we Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield become so intimately acquainted with each, that Park, and Emma. In May 1817 the health of the they appear as old friends or neighbours. She is authoress rendered it necessary that she should remove to some place where constant medical aid

could quite at home in describing the mistakes in the edube procured, She went to Winchester, and in that foibles and vanity-in family differences, obstinacy,

cation of young ladies—in delicate ridicule of female city she expired on the 24th of July 1817,

aged forty-J and pride in the distinctions between the different two. Her personal worth, beauty, and genius, made classes of society, and the nicer shades of feeling and her early death deeply lamented; while the public conduct as they ripen into love or friendship, or had to regret the failure not only of a source of subside into indifference or dislike. Her love is not innocent amusement, but also of that supply of practical good sense and instructive example which who cannot or will not learn anything from productions of she would probably have continued to furnish bet- this kind, she has provided entertainment which entitles her ter than any of her contemporaries.'* The insidious to thanks; for mere innocent amusement is in itself a good,

when it interferes with no greater, especially as it may occupy * Dr Whateley, archbishop of Dublin (Quarterly Review, the place of some other that may not be innocent. The Eastern 1821). The same critic thus sums up his estimate of Miss monarch who proclaimed a reward to him who should discover Austen's works :— They may be safely recommended, not only a new pleasure, would have deserved well of mankind had he as among the most unexceptionable of their class, but as com stipulated that it should be blameless. Those, again, who debining, in an eminent degree, instruction with amusement, light in the study of human nature, may improve in the knowthough without the direct effort at the former, of which we ledge of it, and in the profitable application of that knowledge, have complained as sometimes defeating its object. For those by the perusal of such fictions as those before us.'

a blind passion, the offspring of romance; nor has duties of the household devolved on her. With she any of that morbid colouring of the darker pas- these she was incessantly occupied for four years, sions in which other novelists excel. The clear day- and at the expiration of that time she was married light of nature, as reflected in domestic life, in scenes to the Rev. Mr Brunton, minister of Bolton, in of variety and sorrowful truth, as well as of vivacity Haddingtonshire. In 1803 Mr Brunton was called and humour, is her genial and inexhaustible element. to one of the churches in Edinburgh, and his lady Instruction is always blended with amusement. A had thus an opportunity of meeting with persons finer moral lesson cannot anywhere be found than of literary talent, and of cultivating her own mind. the distress of the Bertram family in Mansfield Till I began Self-Control,' she says in one of her Park,' arising from the vanity and callousness of the letters, 'I had never in my life written anything but two daughters, who had been taught nothing but a letter or a recipe, excepting a few hundreds of rile 'accomplishments,' without any regard to their dis- rhymes, from which I desisted by the time I had positions and temper. These instructive examples gained the wisdorn of fifteen years; therefore I was are brought before us in action, not by lecture or so ignorant of the art on which I was entering, that preachment, and they tell with double force, because I formed scarcely any plan for my tale. I merely they are not inculcated in a didactic style. The intended to show the power of the religious principle genuine but unobtrusive merits of Miss Austen have in bestowing self command, and to bear testimony been but poorly rewarded by the public as respects against a maxim as immoral as indelicate, that a fame and popularity, though her works are now reformed rake makes the best husband.' 'Selfrising in public esteem. 'She has never been so Control' was published without the author's name popular,' says a critic in the Edinburgh Review, . as in 1811. The first edition was sold in a month, and she deserved to be. Intent on fidelity of delineation, a second and third were called for. In 1814 her and averse to the commonplace tricks of her art, she second work, ‘Discipline,' was given to the world, has not, in this age of literary quackery, received and was also well received. She began a third, her reward. Ordinary readers have been apt to Emmeline, but did not live to finish it. She died on judge of her as Partridge, in Fielding's novel, judged the 7th of December 1818. The unfinished tale, of Garrick's acting. He could not see the merit of and a memoir of its lamented authoress, were puba man who merely behaved on the stage as anybody lished in one volume by her husband, Dr Brunton. might be expected to behave under similar circum- • Self-Control' bids fair to retain a permanent stances in real life. He infinitely preferred the place among British novels, as a sort of Scottish “ robustious periwig-pated fellow," who flourished Cælebs, recommended by its moral and religious his arms like a windmill, and ranted with the voice tendency, no less than by the talent it displays. of three. It was even so with many of the readers The acute observation of the authoress is seen in of Miss Austen. She was too natural for them. It the development of little traits of character and conseemed to them as if there could be very little merit duct, which give individuality to her portraits, and in making characters act and talk so exactly like a semblance of truth to the story. Thus the gradual the people whom they saw around them every day. decay, mental and bodily, of Montreville, the acThey did not consider that the highest triumph of count of the De Courcys, and the courtship of art consists in its concealment; and here the art Montague, are true to nature, and completely rewas so little perceptible, that they believed there was moved out of the beaten track of novels. The plot

Her works, like well-proportioned rooms, are is very unskilfully managed. The heroine, Laura, rendered less apparently grand and imposing by the is involved in a perpetual cloud of difficulties and very excellence of their adjustment. Sir Walter dangers, some of which (as the futile abduction by Scott, after reading • Pride and Prejudice' for the Warren, and the arrest at Lady Pelham's) are unthird time, thus mentions the merits of Miss Austen necessary and improbable. The character of Har. in his private diary :That young lady had a grave seems to have been taken from that of Lovetalent for describing the involvements, and feelings, lace, and Laura is the Clarissa of the tale. Her and characters of ordinary life, which is to me the high principle and purity, her devotion to her father, most wonderful I ever met with. The big bow-wow and the force and energy of her mind (without overstrain I can do myself, like any now going; but the stepping feminine softness), impart a strong interest exquisite touch which renders ordinary common to the narrative of her trials and adventures. She place things and characters interesting from the surrounds the whole, as it were, with an atmosphere truth of the description and the sentiment, is denied of moral light and beauty, and melts into something to me. What a pity such a gifted creature died so like consistency and unity the discordant materials early!'

of the tale. The style of the work is also calculated

to impress the reader: it is always appropriate, and MRS BRUNTON.

rises frequently into passages of striking sentiment

and eloquence. MRS MARY BRUNTON, authoress of Self-Control and Discipline, two novels of superior merit and

[Final Escape of Laura.] moral tendency, was born on the 1st of November [The heroine is carried off by the stratagems of Hargrave, 1778. She was a native of Burrey, in Orkney, a put on board a vessel, and taken to the shores of Canada small island of about 500 inhabitants, no part of There, in a remote secluded cabin, prepared for her reception, which is more than 300 feet above the level of the she is confined till Hargrave can arrive. Even her wonted sea, and which is destitute of tree or shrub. In this firmness and religious faith seem to forsake her in this last and remote and sea-surrounded region the parents of greatest of her calamities, and her hcalth sinks under the conMary Brunton occupied a leading station. Her tinued influence of grief and fear.) father was Colonel Balfour of Elwick, and her The whole of the night preceding Hargrave's arriral mother, an accomplished woman, niece of field was passed by Laura in acts of devotion. In her life, marshal Lord Ligonier, in whose house she had blameless as it had appeared to others, she saw so resided previous to her marriage. Mary was care- much ground for condemnation, that, had her hopes fully educated, and instructed by her mother in the rested upon her own merit, they would have vanished French and Italian languages. She was also sent like the sunshine of a winter storm. Their support some time to Edinburgh; but while she was only was more mighty, and they remained unshaken. The sixteen, her mother died, and the whole cares and raptures of faith beamed on her soul. By degrees they


triumphed over every fear; and the first sound that man own their alliance with pain, by seeking the awoke the morning, was her voice raised in a trembling same expression. Joy and gratitude, too big for hymn of praise.

utterance, long poured themselves forth in tears. At Her countenance elevated as in hope, her eyes cast | length, returning composure permitting the language upwards, her hands clasped, her lips half open in the of ecstacy, it was breathed in the accents of devounfinished adoration, her face brightened with a smile tion; and the lone wild echoed to a song of deliverthe dawn of eternal day, she was found by her atten- ance. dant. Awe-struck, the woman paused, and at a reve- The saintly strain arose unmixed with other sound. rent distance gazed upon the seraph; but her entrance No breeze moaned through the impervious woods ; no had called back the unwilling spirit from its flight; ripple broke the stream. The dark shadows trembled and Laura, once more a feeble child of earth, faintly for a moment in its bosom as the little bark stole by, inquired whether her enemy were at hand. Mary and then reposed again. No trace appeared of human answered, that her master was not expected to arrive presence. The fox peeping from the brushwood, the before the evening, and intreated that Laura would wild duck sailing stately in the stream, saw the untry to recruit her spirits, and accept of some refresh- wonted stranger without alarm, untaught as yet to ment. Laura made no opposition. She unconsciously flee from the destroyer. swallowed what was placed before her; unwittingly The day declined, and Laura, with the joy of her suffered her attendant to lead her abroad; nor once escape, began to mingle a wish, that, ere the darkness heeded aught that was done to her, nor aught that closed around her, she might find shelter near her passed before her eyes, till her exhausted limbs fellow-beings. She was not ignorant of the dangers found rest upon the trunk of a tree, which lay moul- of her voyage. She knew that the navigation of the dering near the spot where its root was sending forth a river was interrupted by rapids, which had been purluxuriant thicket.

posely described in her hearing. She examined her The breath of morning blew chill on the wasted frail vessel, and trembled; for life was again become form of Laura, while it somewhat revived her to precious, and feeble seemed her defence against the strength and recollection. Her attendant seeing her torrent. The canoe, which could not have contained shiver in the breeze, compassionately wrapt her more more than two persons, was constructed of a slender closely in her cloak, and ran to seek a warmer cover- frame of wood, covered with the bark of the birch. ing. She feels for my bodily wants,' said Laura. It yielded to the slightest motion, and caution was

Will she have no pity for the sufferings of the soul ? necessary to poise in it even the light form of Laura. Yet what relief can she afford? What help is there Slowly it floated down the lingering tide; and when for me in man? Oh, be Thou my help, who art the a pine of larger size or form more fantastic than his guard of the defenceless ! thou who canst shield in fellows enabled her to measure her progress, she every danger! thou who canst guide in every diffi- thought that through wilds less impassable her own culty !

limbs would have borne her more swiftly. In vain, Her eye rested as it fell upon a track as of recent behind each tangled point, did her fancy picture the footsteps. They had brushed away the dew, and the haunt of man. Vainly amid the mists of eve did she rank grass had not yet risen from their pressure. The trace the smoke of sheltered cottages. In vain at unwonted trace of man's presence arrested her atten: every winding of the stream she sent forward a longtion; and her mind, exhausted by suffering, and ing eye in search of human dwelling. The narrow sharing the weakness of its frail abode, admitted the view was bounded by the dark wilderness, repeating superstitious thought that these marks afforded a ever the same picture of dreary repose. providential indication for her guidance. Transient The sun went down. The shadows of evening fell; animation kindling in her frame, she followed the not such as in her happy native land blend softly with track as it wound round a thicket of poplar; then, the last radiance of day, but black and heavy, harshly suddenly recollecting herself, she became conscious of contrasting with the light of a naked sky reflected the delusion, and shed a tear over her mental decay. from the waters, where they spread beyond the gloom

She was about to return, when she perceived that of impending woods. Dark and more dark the night she was near the bank of the river. Its dark flood

Solemn even amid the peopled land, in was stealing noiselesely by, and Laura, looking on it, this vast solitude it became more awful. breathed the oft-repeated wish that she could seek Ignorant how near the place of danger might be, rest beneath its waves. Again she moved feebly for fearing to pursue darkling her perilous way, Laura ward. She reached the brink of the stream, and stood tried to steer her light bark to the shore, intending to unconsciously following its course with her eye, when, moor it, to find in it a rude resting-place, and in the a light wind stirring the canes that grew down to the morning to pursue her way. Laboriously she toiled, water's edge, she beheld close by her an Indian canoe. and at length reached the bank in safety; but in vain With suddenness that mocks the speed of light, hope she tried to draw her little vessel to land. Its weight flashed on the darkened soul; and stretching her resisted her strength. Dreading that it should slip arms in wild ecstacy, 'Help, help!' cried Laura, and from her grasp, and leave her without means of escape, sprang towards the boat.

A feeble echo from the she re-entered it, and again glided on in her dismal farther shore alone returned the cry. Again she voyage. She had found in the canoe a little coarse called. No human voice replied. But delirious bread made of Indian corn; and this, with the water transport lent vigour to her frame. She sprang into of the river, formed her whole sustenance. Her frame the bark ; she pressed the slender oar against the worn out with previous suffering, awe and fear at last bank. The light vessel yielded to her touch. It yielded to fatigue, and the weary wanderer sank to floated. The stream bore it along. The woods sleep. closed around her prison. "Thou hast delivered me! It was late on the morning of a cloudy day, when a she cried; and sank senseless.

low murmuring sound, stealing on the silence, awoke A meridian sun beat on her uncovered head ere Laura from the rest of innocence. She listened. The Laura began to revive. Recollection stole upon her murmur seemed to swell on her ear.

She looked up like the remembrance of a feverish dream. As one The dark woods still bent over her; but they no who, waking from a fearful vision, still trembles in longer touched the margin of the stream. They his joy, she scarcely dared to hope that the dread stretched their giant arins from the summit of a hour was past, till raising her eyes, she saw the dark precipice. Their image was no more reflected unwoods bend over her, and steal slowly away as the broken. The gray rocks which supported them, but canoe glided on with the tide: The raptures of fallen 1 half lent their colours to the rippling water. The wild

came on.

duck no longer tempting the stream, flew screaming Having remained for two days with this hospitable over its bed. Each object hastened on with fearful family, Laura expressed a wish to depart. She comrapidity, and the murmuring sound was now a deafen- municated to Mr Falkland her desire of returning ing roar.

immediately to Europe, and begged that he would Fear supplying superhuman strength, Laura strove introduce her to some asylum where she might wait to turn the course of her vessel. She strained every the departure of a vessel for Britain. She expressed nerve; she used the force of desperation. Half hoping her willingness to content herself with the poorest that the struggle might save her, half fearing to note accommodation, confessing that she had not the means her dreadful progress, she toiled on till the oar was of purchasing any of a higher class. All the wealth, torn from her powerless grasp, and hurried along with indeed, which she could command, consisted in a few the tide.

guineas which she had accidentally had about her The fear of death alone had not the power to over- when she was taken from her home, and a ring which whelm the soul of Laura. Somewhat might yet be Mrs De Courcy had given her at parting. Her bost done perhaps to avert her fate, at least to prepare for kindly urged her to remain with them till they should it. Feeble as was the chance of life, it was not to be ascertain that a vessel was immediately to sail, in rejected. Fixing her cloak more firmly round her, which she might secure her passage ; assuring her a Laura bound it to the slender frame of the canoe. week scarcely ever elapsed without some departure Then commending herself to Heaven with the fervour for her native country. Finding, however, that she of a last prayer, she in dread stillness awaited her doom. was anxious to be gone, Mr Falkland himself accom

With terrible speed the vessel hurried on. It was panied her to Quebec. whirled round by the torrent, tossed fearfully, and They travelled by land. The country at first bore hurried on again. It shot over a smoothness more the characters of a half-redeemed wilderness. The dreadful than the eddying whirl. It rose upon its road wound at times through dreary woods, at others prow. Laura clung to it in the convulsion of terror. through fields where noxious variety of hue bespoke À moment she trembled on the giddy verge. The imperfect cultivation. At last it approached the great next, all was darkness !

river ; and Laura gazed with delight on the everWhen Laura was restored to recollection, she found changing, rich, and beautiful scenes which were preherself in a plain decent apartment. Several persons sented to her view ; scenes which she had passed of her own sex were humanely busied in attending unheeded when grief and fear veiled every prospect her. Her mind retaining a confused impression in gloom. the past, she inquired where she was, and how she One of the nuns in the Hotel Dieu was the sister of had been brought thither. An elderly woman, of a Mrs Falkland, and to her care Mr Falkland intended prepossessing appearance, answered, with almost ma- to commit his charge. But before he had been an hour ternal kindness, that she was among friends all in the town, he received information that a ship was anxious for her safety; begged that she would try to weighing anchor for the Clyde, and Laura eagerly emsleep, and promised to satisfy her curiosity when she braced the opportunity. The captain being informed should be more able to converse. This benevolent by Mr Falkland that she could not advance the price person, whose name was Falkland, then administered of her passage, at first hesitated to receive her ; but a restorative to her patient, and Laura, uttering when, with the irresistible candour and majesty that almost incoherent expressions of gratitude, composed shone in all her looks and words, she assured him of herself to rest.

his reward, when she spoke to him in the accents of Awaking refreshed and collected, she found Mrs his native land, the Scotsman's heart melted ; and Falkland and one of her daughters still watching by having satisfied himself that she was a Highlander, her bedside. Laura again repeated her questions, he closed the bargain by swearing that he was sure he and Mrs Falkland fulfilled her promise, by relating might trust her. that her husband, who was a farmer, having been With tears in her eyes Laura took leave of her employed with his two sons in a field which over- benevolent host; yet her heart bounded with joy as looked the river, had observed the canoe enter the she saw the vessel cleaving the tide, and each object rapid: that seeing it too late to prevent the accident, in the dreaded land of exile swiftly retiring from her they had kurried down to the bed of the stream below view. In a few days that dreaded land disappeared. the fall, in hopes of intercepting the boat at its reap- In a few more the mountains of Cape Breton sank pearance: that being accustomed to float wood down behind the wave. The brisk gales of autumn wafted the torrent, they knew precisely the spot where their the vessel cheerfully on her way; and often did Laura assistance was most likely to prove effectual: that the compute her progress. canoe, though covered with foam for a moment, had In a clear frosty morning towards the end of Sepinstantly risen again; and that Mr Falkland and his tember she heard once more the cry of 'Land !' now sons had, not without danger, succeeded in drawing music to her ear. Now with a beating breast she ran it to land.

to gaze upon a ridge of mountains indenting the disk She then, in her turn, inquired by what accident of the rising sun; but the tears of rapture dimmed Laura had been exposed to such a perilous adventure; her eyes when every voice at once shouted 'Scotland! expressing wonder at the direction of her voyage, All day Laura remained on deck, oft measuring since Falkland farm was the last inhabited spot in with the light splinter the vessel's course through the that district. Laura, mingling her natural reserve deep. The winds favoured not her impatience. Towith a desire to satisfy her kind hostess, answered wards evening they died away, and scarcely did the that she had been torn from her friends by an in- vessel steal along the liquid mirror. Another and human enemy, and that her perilous voyage was the another morning came, and Laura's ear was blessed least effect of his barbarity. 'Do you know,' said with the first sounds of her native land. The tolling Mrs Falkland, somewhat mistaking her meaning, of a bell was borne along the water, now swelling that to his cruelty you partly owe your life; for loud, and now falling softly away. The humble vil. had he not bound you to the canoe, you must have lage church was seen on the shore ; and Laura could sunk while the boat floated on!' Laura heard with distinguish the gay colouring of her countrywomen's a faint smile the effect of her self-possession ; but Sunday attire; the scarlet plaid, transmitted from considering it as a call to pious gratitude rather generation to generation, pinned decently over the than a theme of self-applause, she forbore to offer any plain clean coif; the bright blue gown, the trophy of claim to praise, and the subject was suffered to drop more recent housewifery. To her every form in the without further explanation.

well-known garb seemed the form of a friend. The

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blue mountains in the distance, the scattered woods, brother, and the composition of two short papers
the fields yellow with the harvest, the river sparkling which she sent to the Lounger. Mr Hamilton re-
in the sun, seemed, to the wanderer returning from turned from India in 1786, in order that he might
the land of strangers, fairer than the gardens of Para- better fulfil an important duty intrusted to him, the

translation of the Mussulman Code of Lawg. It would
Land my affections !-when 'I forget thee, may not be easy to paint the joy and affection with which
my right hand forget her cunning !' Blessed be thou | he was received by his sister. They spent the
among nations ! Long may thy wanderers return to winter together in Stirlingshire, and in 1789, when
thee rejoicing, and their hearts throb with honest her kind friend and protector, Mr Marshall, died,
pride when they own themselves thy children !

she quitted Scotland, and rejoined her brother in
London. Mr Hamilton was cut off by a premature

death in 1792. Shortly after this period commenced

the literary life of Elizabeth Hamilton, and her first ELIZABETH HAMILTON, an amiable and accom- work was that to which we have alluded, connected plished miscellaneous writer, was authoress of one with the memory of her lamented brother, The excellent little novel, or moral tale, The Cottagers of Letters of a Hindoo Rajah, in two volumes, published Glenburnie, which has probably been as effective in in 1796. The success of the work stimulated her promoting domestic improvement among the rural exertions. In 1800 she published The Modern population of Scotland as Johnson's Journey to the Philosophers, in three volumes ; and between that Hebrides was in encouraging the planting of trees period and 1806 she gave to the world Letters on by the landed proprietors. In both cases there Education, Memoirs of Agrippina, and Letters to the was some exaggeration of colouring, but the pictures Daughters of a Nobleman. In 1808 appeared her were too provokingly true and sarcastic to be laughed most popular, original, and useful work, The Cotaway or denied. They constituted a national re- tagers of Glenburnie;' and she subsequently pubproach, and the only way to wipe it off was by timely lished Popular Essays on the Human Mind, and reformation. There is still much to accomplish, but Hints to the Directors of Public Schools. For many a marked improvement in the dwellings and internal years Mrs Hamilton had fixed her residence in economy of Scottish farm-houses and villages may Edinburgh. She was enfeebled by ill health, but be dated from the publication of the Cottagers of her cheerfulness and activity of mind continued unGlenburnie.' Elizabeth Hamilton was born in Belabated, and her society was courted by the most fast in the year 1758. Her father was a merchant, intellectual and influential of her fellow-citizens. of a Scottish family, and died early, leaving a widow The benevolence and correct judgment which aniand three children. The latter were educated and mated her writings pervaded her conduct. Having brought up by relatives in better circumstances, gone to Harrowgate for the benefit of her health, Elizabeth, the youngest, being sent to Mr Marshall, Mrs Hamilton died at that place on the 23d of July a farmer in Stirlingshire, married to her father's 1816, aged sixty-eight. sister. Her brother obtained a cadetship in the The Cottagers of Glenburnie' is in reality a tale East India Company's service, and an elder sister of cottage life, and derives none of its interest from was retained in Ireland. A feeling of strong affec- those strange and splendid vicissitudes, contrasts, tion seems to have existed among these scattered and sentimental dangers which embellish the ideal members of the unfortunate family. Elizabeth world of so many fictitious narratives. The scene found in Mr and Mrs Marshall all that could have is laid in a poor scattered Scottish hamlet, and the been desired. She was adopted and educated with heroine is a retired English governess, middle-aged a care and tenderness that has seldom been equalled. and lame, with £30 a-year! This person, Mrs

No child,' she says, 'ever spent so happy a life, nor Mason, after being long in a noble family, is reduced have I ever met with anything at all resembling our from a state of ease and luxury into one of compaway of living, except the description given by Rous- rative indigence, and having learned that her cousin, seau of Wolmar's farm and vintage. A taste for her only surviving relative, was married to one of the literature soon appeared in Elizabeth Hamilton. small farmers in Glenburnie, she agreed to fix her Wallace was the first hero of her studies ; but meet- residence in her house as a lodger. On her way she ing with Ogilvie's translation of the Iliad, she called at Gowan-brae, the house of the factor or idolized Achilles, and dreamed of Hector. She had land-steward on the estate, to whom she had preopportunities of visiting Edinburgh and Glasgow, viously been known, and we have a graphic account after which she carried on a learned correspondence of the family of this gentleman, one of whose daughwith Dr Moyse, a philosophical lecturer. She ters figures conspicuously in the after-part of the wrote also many copies of verses — that ordinary tale. Mr Stewart, the factor, his youngest daughter, outlet for the warm feelings and romantic sensi- and boys, accompany Mrs Mason to Glenburnie. bilities of youth. Her first appearance in print was accidental. Ilaving accompanied a pleasure party to the Highlands, she kept a journal for [Picture of Glenburnie, and View of a Scotch Cottage the gratification of her aunt, and the good woman

in the Last Century.] showing it to one of her neighbours, it was sent to They had not proceeded many paces until they a provincial magazine. Her retirement in Stirling- were struck with admiration at the uncommon wildshire was, in 1773, gladdened by a visit from herness of the scene which now opened to their view. The brother, then about to sail for India. Mr Hamil- rocks which seemed to guard the entrance of the glen ton seems to have been an excellent and able young were abrupt and savage, and approached so near each man, and his subsequent letters and conversations other, that one could suppose them to have been riven on Indian affairs stored the mind of his sister asunder to give a passage to the clear stream which with the materials for her Hindoo Rajah, a work flowed between them. As they advanced, the hills equally remarkable for good sense and sprightliness. receded on either side, making room for meadows and In 1778 Miss Hamilton lost her aunt, whose death corn-fields, through which the rapid burn pursued its was a heavy blow to the happy family. For the way in many a fantastic maze. ensuing six years she devoted herself to the cares If the reader is a traveller, he must know, and if and duties of the household, her only literary he is a speculator in canals, he must regret, that rivers employments being her correspondence with her have in general a trick of running out of the straight


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