L I B RA RY 
 
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 U N I VERS ITY 
 
 Of ILLI NOIS 
 
 823 
 
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 ^^^ y/^^-^^
 
 THE 
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN, 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 Printed by J. Darling, Leadenhall-Street, London.
 
 Y>'
 
 THE 
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE SMUGGLERS' CAVE. 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF THE FARMER'S THREE DAUGHTERS. 
 
 The ways of Heaven are dark and intricate; 
 
 Puzzled in mazes, and perplexed with errors : 
 
 Onr understanding traces them in vain. 
 
 Lost and bewilrter'd in the fruitless search ; 
 
 Kor sees with how much art the windings ran, 
 
 Uor where the regular confusion ends. ADDISON. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 -**'»s^ 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 A» K, NEWMAN AND CO. LEADENHALL-STREET. 
 1823.
 
 
 THE 
 
 FOUNDLINGOF GLENTHORN 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 r^.r^-»-r»-r»~t>r-r»** 
 
 The vessel sinks — 'tis vanished, and the sea 
 
 Rolls boiling o'er the vereck triumphantly ; 
 
 And shrieks are heard, and cries, and then short groans. 
 
 Which the waves stifle quick, and doubtful tones, 
 
 Like the faint meanings of the wind, pass by, 
 
 And horrid gurgling sounds rise up and die, 
 
 And noises like the choking of man's breath; 
 
 But why prolong the talef — it is of death. 
 
 Barry Coenwall. 
 
 The War of ElementSj and the Wreck of Matter. 
 
 W 
 
 HERE are you going now, El- 
 len ?" said the farmer of Glenthorn to his 
 wife, as he met her on the threshold, ad- 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 justing the hood of her mantle; " this is 
 not a night for any one to venture out 
 who can stay within doors, but especially 
 for a woman ; for see, Ellen, the wind has 
 capsized two stacks in the barn-yard, and 
 the driving snow is enough to pick the 
 eyes from one's head ; besides, the sun will 
 be set in half-an-hour : you must not think 
 of going out to-night, Ellen." 
 
 " I am not taking a long journey, Da- 
 vid, and you must go with me; I was 
 just coming to look for you," replied 
 Ellen. 
 
 ** But, dear woman, what do you mean? 
 Wiiere should we go in a night like this?" 
 said David, with surprise. 
 
 " Just down to the Cove-ness : we shall 
 be back in a short time," said Ellen, with 
 much earnestness and animation. 
 
 " The Cove-ness, Ellen ! are you aware 
 what you are saying ? You could not 
 keep your feet if you were there ; for be- 
 fore now the sea must be breaking over 
 the highest part of it ; and by the time 
 that it is high water, will be rolling over
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 3 
 
 the park dike ; for the white foam is fly- 
 ing through the air, and alighting in the 
 long meadow, like a flock of doves, al- 
 ready." 
 
 " Dear David, that is the very reason 
 for which I wish to go; yon know that I 
 have some peculiarities, and this is one of 
 them : I think a sea-storm among the 
 most sublime phenomena of nature ; it in- 
 spires me with such a pleasing melancholy 
 as I cannot describe.'* 
 
 " Psha, Ellen ! there can be no pleasure 
 on the plain in such a night as this ; step 
 in again, and after glomnin, when the 
 barn -yard is put in some kind of order, I 
 shall read you St. Paul's account of his 
 shipwreck ; and if that is not sufficient, 
 you shall have Falconer's poem on the 
 same subject, which I know is a favourite 
 with you." 
 
 " Oh, my dear, we can get both these 
 after we return; but you must go to the 
 Ness with me ; for I could not sleep were 
 I not to go tljere to-night." 
 B 2
 
 4 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 " And if you do go, I think the chance 
 is, that you will not sleep soundly for a 
 week or two to come ; for, my dear El- 
 len, you are certain of catching a dreadful 
 cold." 
 
 " No fear ! but be that as it may, I'll 
 do my duty." 
 
 " Your duty, Ellen ! what duty can 
 there be in exposing yourself to a storm 
 like this, for no purpose?' 
 
 ** Dear David, you know my whims, 
 and have been pleased to say that you like 
 me the better for them : you sometimes 
 laugh, but are never angry with me on 
 their account; and if you would not laugh 
 just now, I would tell you my dream last 
 night." 
 
 " Well, Ellen," said her husband, smil- 
 ing, *' let me hear it." 
 
 "Ah! you are preparing to laugh al- 
 ready : now it made such an impression 
 upon my mind, that it has haunted me all 
 day, to such a degree as makes me restless 
 and uneasy." 
 
 " Dear Ellen, this is indulging your
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 5 
 
 whims too far, when you allow idle and 
 silly dreams to disturb your peace during 
 the day." 
 
 " I cannot help it at present : you are 
 seldom troubled with my dreams, but you 
 must hear this. You know that it was a 
 fine, well-set night yestreen when we went 
 to bed, the stars blinking clearly, the air 
 as serene, and the sea as calm, as if it had 
 been a JNIay morning. I had been but a 
 short time asleep, when I dreamed of such 
 a storm as blows just now; the foam of 
 the sea was dashing up to our windows; 
 you and I ran to the Cove-ness, and saw a 
 ship dashed in pieces ; we then contrived 
 to creep down by the red heugh, to see 
 whether any of the crew had come on 
 shore; when, just at the mouth of the 
 Smugglers' Cave, a child uttered such a 
 scream as awaked me. Now, the wind is 
 just in that direction which would fetch a 
 ship from the sea to that point ; and I am 
 sure no vessel could stand it to-night ; and 
 do you not think my dream a presenti- 
 ment, that we may endeavour to help any
 
 6 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOKN. 
 
 one who may be in want of assistance ? 
 although I would fondly hope that none 
 will require it." 
 
 " I hope so too," said David ; " for no 
 ship that was ever built of British oak 
 could keep together, were she to come 
 upon the black craigs, and none can be 
 upon the coast and miss them, from the 
 way that the wind blows, if attempting 
 to land : and may Providence preserve 
 them, for they could not keep the sea! 
 Still, I wish you would resolve upon stay- 
 ing at home, for the storm is dreadful." 
 
 " Do not mention it, my dear. Come 
 away, for it will soon be gloaming cried 
 Ellen, impatiently. 
 
 David Angus had at this period been 
 for some years farmer of Glenthorn, whic!) 
 was of good soil, and considerable extent. 
 He had in early youth received an educa- 
 tion superior to most of that class of so- 
 ciety in which he was placed : he had 
 much good sense, but no shining talents; 
 and along with undeviating rectitude, paid 
 much attention to decorum and propriety
 
 FOUNDLING OF G-LENTHORN. 7 
 
 of conduct. Although benevolent from 
 principle, his feelings were not easily ex- 
 cited ; he never spurned the poor and un- 
 fortunate when they solicited assistance or 
 advice ; but he was too indolent to seek 
 opportunities for the exercise of his kind- 
 ness. Easy in his worldly circumstances, 
 he was always an inoffensive, sometimes 
 an useful, but never an active, member of 
 society. In addition to his positive, he 
 had many negative virtues; while his 
 vices were only those of omission, and 
 such as candour would term frailties, pro- 
 ceeding generally from indolence of body 
 or mind, which were both powerful ; for 
 when he applied to manual labour, he 
 worked hard ; and when his intellects were 
 called into action, he thought vigorously, 
 and in general with much soundness of 
 judgment. He had married Ellen Wal- 
 lace a few years after she had left school, 
 where she had been an object of affection, 
 wonder, and dislike, according to the dif- 
 ferent tempers and dispositions of her as- 
 sociates. Gay and volatile, Ellen possess-
 
 8 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 ed a mind of acute sensibility, either to 
 the pleasures or pains of life : if she heard 
 a fiddle, it was with difficulty that she 
 could restrain her inclination to dance; 
 and she never witnessed distress, either 
 bodily or mental, without attempting to 
 relieve, or sooth the sufferer. This dis- 
 position produced an early attachment to 
 reading, in which the tender and pathetic 
 had always a superior interest : nor were 
 these less pleasing, although sometimes 
 so blended with the romantic as to exceed 
 the probabilities of real life. Perhaps this 
 penchant increased the native sensibility 
 of her mind, which was thus alternately 
 the agent and the recipient. Unaccus- 
 tomed to conceal her thoughts, she boldly 
 spoke according to her feelings : she knew 
 not the art of deceiving, and suspicion 
 found no place in her breast. Her heart 
 was a stranger to every baneful passion, 
 except anger ; but even this was only a 
 passing cloud, for the first delightful ob- 
 ject that came in her way would arrest 
 her attention ; hence it was seldom that
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 9 
 
 the sun went down upon her wrath : she 
 scarcely ever had a quarrel with her com- 
 panions, unless for being more sedate, or 
 possessing less susceptibility than herself: 
 if they refused to join her in a frolic, or 
 withheld their mite from a contribution of 
 her proposing, for the relief of some mi- 
 serable object, in this they were branded 
 as selfish and unfeeling; and in that as 
 unsocial, inanimate beings. J^uch was 
 Ellen Wallace in early life; what she 
 proved to be in mature age, may perhaps 
 appear in the progress of this history. 
 
 On the present occasion, her husband 
 saw that every attempt to prevent her 
 from visiting the Cove-ness would be 
 abortive, and therefore requested her to 
 step in till he put on his great-coat, and 
 he would accompany her. Wrapping a 
 silk handkerchief round Ellen's neck, and 
 buttoning his coat close upon his own, 
 he salhed forth with her on his arm. As 
 they passed the barn-yard, another stack 
 was overturned. — " See, Ellen," said Da- 
 B S
 
 10 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 vid, " there's my stack of early seed-oats 
 all lying among the snow ! that will never 
 do ; we'll be herried before to-morrow ; for 
 the byres will tumble next. Come away 
 to the house, Ellen." 
 
 " Dear David," replied she, " I cannot 
 expect you to leave things in that state; 
 but you must not insist upon my staying, 
 for I find that I could not be easy. Do 
 not be offended: Meg Lindsay will ac- 
 company me, and I shall be back in an 
 hour's time." 
 
 David was now piqued at what he 
 deemed a pertinacious and ridiculous ob- 
 stinacy in Ellen, for the gratification of a 
 whimsical idea, which, instead of exerting 
 her reason to suppress, she appeared to in- 
 dulge with childish fondness; he there- 
 fore threw off his coat, and calling the ser- 
 vants about him, began to repair the ra- 
 vages made by the tempest, which still 
 raged with increased violence. 
 
 Ellen was much beloved by all the do- 
 mestics; they did sometimes secretly laugh 
 at her peculiarities ; but even these had so
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 11 
 
 general a tendency to benevolence, that if 
 she lost any part of her dignity by the ex- 
 ercise, she was certain of gaining far more 
 in attachment and affection. 
 
 Meg Lindsay was ready in a moment, 
 and the pair sallied forth. As they turned 
 the corner of the barn, the eddy of the 
 tempest drove both back upon tlie wall 
 with considerable violence, and it was with 
 difficulty that they could keep upon their 
 legs. — " I fear this job winna do," said 
 Meg, adjusting her dress. 
 
 " Come away," cried Ellen ; " we shall 
 get forward easily when fairly out of the 
 swirlr 
 
 The gale continued to increase ; and our 
 adventurers had not advanced far into the 
 nearest field, when it blew a perfect hur- 
 ricane ; but nothing could intimidate El- 
 len ; and Meg would neither desert her, 
 nor affect less courage than her mistress. 
 David could not help looking occasionally 
 after them, and saw, by the slowness of 
 their progress, that it would be dark long 
 before they could return; he therefore
 
 12 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 gave the necessary instructions to his ser- 
 vants ; and again resuming the great-coat, 
 followed his wife, whom he overtook, al- 
 most breathless, about midway to the Ness. 
 Taking her other arm, they now proceed- 
 ed with more alacrity ; but as they ap- 
 proached the headland, the salt spray came 
 with such violence in their faces as almost 
 to deprive them of sight: however, by 
 perseverance, they reached within about 
 two hundred yards of the brow of the 
 Ness, when they found the sea breaking 
 furiously on the face of the rock, rising 
 over the top, like an arch, and falling at a 
 considerable distance in the field. The 
 party approached as near to the brink as 
 they could with safety, for the purpose of 
 surveying the tempestuous element now 
 expanded before them. 
 
 As no snow was falling, and the sun just 
 setting, there was nothing to obstruct their 
 view for a great distance, except the spray, 
 which, at intervals, continued to spring 
 from the front of the Ness with irresisti- 
 ble violence.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 13 
 
 "Oh this is a sublime scene!" cried Ellen, 
 " and could we be certain that none are 
 in danger, it would be delightful; but yes- 
 terday was so fine, and the storm has come 
 so suddenly, that some vessels will be at 
 sea. — Is not that a ship far to the south- 
 ward, like a black spot upon the horizon?" 
 
 After attentively gazing, the party were 
 convinced that they beheld a vessel in the 
 distance, and that she was making much 
 way. 
 
 ** It is a ship ;" said David ; " I think 
 she is trying to clear the land, and I hope 
 will succeed." 
 
 " Heaven preserve them !" cried Ellen, 
 " but they cannot get round ; both wind 
 and tide are against them. You'll see that 
 they will come in here just about high 
 water, and it is an hundred to one but 
 they will perish before they reach the 
 shore !" 
 
 " We cannot help them," said Mr. An- 
 gus, " and it will be dark before we can 
 reach home." 
 
 " Oh David, we must do every thing
 
 14 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 possible for their safety ! — if we save but 
 one poor creature, how pleasant a reflec- 
 tion will it not be ! we will step down the 
 brae to the Cove cottages, and prepare the 
 poor folks to give their assistance, after 
 which we shall see how the ship is stand- 
 ing." 
 
 The cottages mentioned by Ellen were 
 three hovels at some distance, on the 
 other side of a deep ravine, which sepa- 
 rated them from the Ness ; they were in- 
 habited by fishers, who were now old, 
 poor, and lazy. The promontory upon 
 which our adventurers stood was about 
 one hundred and fifty feet high, into 
 which was a natural excavation, called the 
 Smugglers' Cave, which could be entered 
 from the sea at flood-tide, and from the 
 beach at low water. The entry to this 
 cave was spacious and magnificent, being 
 an arch not less than fifty feet in height, 
 and perhaps more in width ; but upon 
 approaching a few yards, it contracted to 
 a narrow entrance, forming a kind of gate- 
 way, beyond which the cave again ex-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 15 
 
 panded into a spacious chamber, extend- 
 ing between two hundred and three hun- 
 dred feet into the rock : the Hght from 
 the narrow entrance being dinily reflected 
 from the sides and roof, gave a sombre ap- 
 pearance to the whole interior. About 
 the distance above mentioned, the cave 
 took a bending direction, which utterly 
 excluded the light ; it became also much 
 narrower and lower in the roof. In the 
 interior extremity was a well of cool and 
 pure water, which was heard trickling 
 from the rock a considerable time before 
 it could be reached. He who explored 
 thus far, upon turning his face to the en- 
 trance, although surrounded by darkness, 
 saw the dim and mellow light on the 
 sides of the cave at a distance before him ; 
 the crystal spring bubbled at his feet, 
 while the hoarse and hollow murmurs of 
 the ocean were re-echoed on all sides, pro- 
 ducing on the mind a solemn, but not 
 unpleasing melancholy. 
 
 The fishermen had pronounced it im- 
 possible for the vessel to clear the land.
 
 16 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 although she was still using eveiy effort 
 to keep the sea. In less than two hours 
 it would be high water, and by that time, 
 they said, the fate of the hapless bark 
 would be determined. Ellen now declared 
 her resolution of continuing in the hut till 
 her anxiety should be relieved; but re- 
 quested her husband to hasten home and 
 cause a good fire to be made in the par- 
 lour, with other necessary preparations, 
 should any unfortunate sufferers require 
 their protection ; and also begging of him 
 to return as speedily as possible, accompa- 
 nied by the servants with ropes and 
 blankets, that no precaution on their part 
 might be wanting. 
 
 Although David considered all these 
 measures as premature, yet having no good 
 reason to urge against them, he acquiesced, 
 after having vainly endeavoured to per- 
 suade Ellen to accompany him home. 
 
 While twilight continued, she could not 
 rest within doors, always anxiously watch- 
 ing the progress of the hapless bark, whose 
 fate seemed still uncertain ; but the clos-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 17 
 
 ing shades of night, by hiding the object, 
 added to the anxiety of Ellen. 
 
 The farmer and several of his servants 
 having arrived at the hut, he began to 
 ridicule Ellen's fears and anticipations of 
 danger ; telling her, that she kept herself 
 miserable by the alarms of her imagina- 
 tion, for that the vessel must now have 
 cleared the land and be far to the north- 
 ward, as he conceived the wind had shifted 
 one or two points more favourably. Ellen 
 proposed that they should go out to recon- 
 noitre. The gale continued with unabated 
 fury; there seemed also a heavy fall of 
 sleet; but they could not ascertain whe- 
 ther this was not the spray from the ocean. 
 It was now about high water — and the 
 mountain billows, rolling forward with im- 
 petuous force, struck upon the front of the 
 Ness with thundering noise, from which 
 recoiling, they rose and rolled over the 
 firm land, which seemed to groan under 
 the shock which it had sustained. 
 
 While those who had issued from the 
 cottage stood, in some degree, protected
 
 18 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN, 
 
 by its humble walls, listening with solemn 
 awe to the war of elements, a flash of fire 
 appeared upon the water, as they sup- 
 posed at less than a mile's distance, and 
 they believed that it was followed by the 
 report of a gun ; in a few minutes another 
 flash was seen still nearer, and the report 
 was distinctly heard. It being now cer- 
 tain that the ill-fated bark was driving on 
 shore, a lantern was placed at the only 
 point where there was a slight possibility 
 that the ship could run aground, without 
 being instantly dashed in pieces. This 
 was a steep but narrow gully of about ten 
 yards wide, which led through a long reef 
 of rugged rocks, placed like a half- moon 
 battery, over which no vessel could pass 
 even at flood-tide; between these and the 
 land was a small bay, flanked on one side 
 by the Cove-ness, and on the other by a 
 ridge of rocks of less elevation, surmounted 
 by a green sloping bank. As it was now 
 high water, should the vessel be fortunate 
 enough to enter the small inlet just men- 
 tioned, she would drive up to the beach,
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 19 
 
 where, as the sea would soon leave her, the 
 crew might be preserved. The fishermen 
 now affirmed that they saw the bark among 
 the breakers just beyond the black craigs, 
 and that she was running right upon them, 
 where destruction would be sudden and 
 inevitable. 
 
 The shrieks of the crew were soon dis- 
 tinctly heard at intervals, between the 
 gusts of the tempest and the dashing of 
 the waves ; but it was impossible to ren- 
 der them the slightest assistance. Every 
 eye was strained over the dark abyss, and 
 ever}^ ear anxiously listening, although it 
 was only between the fits of the blast that 
 any sound could be heard. The bark was 
 now, for a moment, distinctly seen upon 
 a mountain billow, just without the black 
 craigs — an agonizing shriek was heard, and 
 the hapless vessel instantly disappeared — 
 a pause of dreadful expectation followed 
 — when nothing met the eye except roll- 
 ing waves and foaming breakers ; and no 
 sound struck upon the ear, but the dread- 
 ful noise arising from the shock of con-
 
 20 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 tending elements. — " All is over!" said the 
 fishermen ; " she has either gone down, or 
 is dashed in pieces upon the black craigs." 
 
 "But some of the crew may have reached 
 the shore — let us hasten down to assist 
 them !" said Ellen. 
 
 " You'll never see any of them alive,'* 
 replied the fishers. 
 
 Ellen, without losing a moment in idle 
 disputation, took up the lantern, seized 
 her husband's arm, and proceeded down 
 the steep with all the speed that the storm, 
 darkness, and the precipitate descent, 
 would permit. 
 
 They were now in front of the little 
 bay before described, being the only place 
 where the shore w^as accessible from the 
 steep and rugged rocks which extended 
 their opposing bulwarks on each side ; but 
 from the present violence of the storm, and 
 the high tide, the waves not only covered 
 all the beach, but rolled with majestic 
 grandeur high upon the green bank, which 
 rose like a spacious amphitheatre far above 
 the restless world of waters, that hurled its
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOFvN. 21 
 
 billows onward with resistless fury and 
 deafening noise, which as they rolled into 
 the Smugglers' Cave, returned their echoes 
 upon the ear, like deep and hollow groans 
 from the bosom of the earth. 
 
 The party had continued about an hour, 
 traversing the bank as far down as the 
 surges would permit, still expecting that 
 the wreck would come on shore, or, per- 
 haps, some of the crew, either dead or alive; 
 but not a vestige appeared to indicate the 
 catastrophe, which they were certain had 
 taken place. The waning moon was now 
 seen emerging from the sea; but the tem- 
 pest, which had subsided for a little, seemed 
 only to have paused that it might awake 
 with redoubled fury ; the sky was soon 
 overcast — hail and snow fell in heavy 
 showers, which commingling with the spray 
 from the ocean, compelled the party to 
 take shelter in the nearest cottage. Mr. 
 Angus would have proposed returning 
 home, but the storm was too violent for 
 making the attempt. 
 
 Several hours had elapsed before the
 
 22 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 hurricane was, in any degree, abated ; and 
 upon its raving less loudly on their crazy 
 tenement, the party again sallied forth. 
 The sky was now clear — the moon had 
 ascended high in the azure vault, and they 
 could see to a considerable distance on the 
 surface of the water. One of the fishermen 
 affirmed, that he saw the topmast of the 
 wrecked vessel just without the black 
 craigs; and the attention of the rest being 
 directed to the same point, they beheld it 
 very distinctly. 
 
 It was now obvious that she had sunk 
 in deep water, and there was no probabi- 
 lity that either any part of the wreck or 
 crew would come on shore, at least for the 
 present. Mr. Angus, therefore, proposed 
 that they should return home; but Ellen 
 said, that it would be low water in an 
 hour, and begged that he and the others 
 would wait patiently till that time: know- 
 ing Ellen's perseverance, he complied; and 
 the servants, although weary and hungry, 
 made no objections. 
 
 They were now strolling in pairs along
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 23 
 
 the beach, examining every object that 
 appeared among the rocks, as the receding 
 tide left it exposed. John Bell and Meg 
 Lindsay had retired to the portico of the 
 Smugglers' Cave, toshelter themselves from 
 the impetuous gale, or to converse about 
 their own affairs, when Meg suddenly 
 rushed forth upon the beach, shrieking 
 wildly; the party soon assembled round 
 her, as she stood panting and breathless, 
 anxiously inquiring the cause of her alarm. 
 «0h!— Oh!" cried she, half suffocated, 
 " there's unearthly sounds in the cave — 
 an' I'm sure I heard something like — like 
 the groans of ane grapplin' wi' death !" 
 and she grasped the arm of her mistress 
 with convulsive energy. 
 
 '* Let us seewhoor w^hat is in the cave," 
 said Mrs. Angus. 
 
 '* Oh ! dinna, dinna gang, mistress !" 
 cried Meg, sobbing deeply, and clasping 
 Ellen in her arms. Ellen disengaging her- 
 self from the half frantic embraces of her 
 servant, proceeded to the cave, calling 
 upon the rest to accompany her. Meg
 
 24 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 had communicated a share of her terrors 
 to her companions ; but ashamed of their 
 pusillanimity, they proceeded, most respect- 
 fully giving the post of honour to their 
 master and mistress. They had just 
 reached the narrow entrance of the cave 
 within the vestibule, when, by some ac- 
 cident, the light in the lantern was extin- 
 guished; a general terror now seized the 
 party, and their first impulse was to rush 
 out; when Ellen firmly, but with much 
 composure, ordered them to run up the 
 hrae, and get the lantern re-lighted. No 
 individual would undertake this, but a 
 party of two was despatched. 
 
 All was now silence and breathless agi- 
 tation among those left in the cave ; every 
 bosom palpitated — Ellen's not excepted ; 
 but hers was not produced by fear — it was 
 anxiely and solicitude to discover whether 
 this dreary mansion contained any sufferer 
 to whom they could afford relief. As no 
 one attempted to interrupt the solemn 
 silence which pervaded the recess, Ellen 
 had not listened more than a minute, when
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOUN. 25 
 
 she heard audible breathings in the interior 
 of the cave, and she waited the return of 
 the light with much impatience. The 
 lantern being now brought, they were 
 proceeding to explore the subterraneous 
 abode, when some jackdaws that had 
 roosted in the shelving projections of the 
 cave, disturbed by the light, fluttered from 
 their dormitory, flapping their wings in a 
 state of alarm. It will readily be admit- 
 ted that the scene, the hour, and the pur- 
 pose for which the party was now explor- 
 ing thij^ gloomy recess, were all calculated 
 to create a solemnity of feeling, which, 
 although in itself not allied to fear, gene- 
 rally predisposes the mind in such a man- 
 ner, as renders it more susceptible of that 
 passion. The sudden flutter of the jack- 
 daws, therefore, produced a momentary 
 alarm to all. Meg Lindsay screamed aloud, 
 and would have fallen to the ground, had 
 she not been supported by her companions. 
 The light diffused by the lantern was just 
 sufficient to make " darkness visible," and 
 VOL. I. c 
 
 1
 
 26 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN, 
 
 render the gloom by which they were sur- 
 rounded still more dismal. The bounda- 
 ries of the cave appeared more distant ; its 
 roof seemed to have a greater elevation, 
 and its whole dimensions more capacious. 
 The jutting angles with which it abounded 
 being dimly seen, and indistinctly defin- 
 ed, produced fantastic shadows upon the 
 hoary walls, which the excited imagina- 
 tions of the spectators could easily shape 
 into visionary forms; while the innume- 
 rable petrifactions which hung from the 
 roof, reflected the light in a variety of 
 colours, and appeared like stars in a divS- 
 tant sky. 
 
 AVhile the company were slowly and 
 silently exploring their way, a deep groan 
 was heaved a little before them, and re- 
 echoed from the inmost recesses of the 
 cave. Meg Lindsay now uttered an hys- 
 teric shriek, and fell prostrate in the sand 
 which imbedded the floor. Without stop- 
 ping to assist her, Ellen rushed forward 
 with the light, and soon discovered a man 
 lying upon a little hillock of sand ; his
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 27 
 
 fece was turned to the interior of the cave ; 
 and when the light was placed before him, 
 he raised his eyes and gazed wildly around 
 him, lifted his head as if attempting to 
 rise, but heaving a deep groan, sunk back 
 upon the sand. Ellen addressed him in 
 gentle accents, inquiring whether he was 
 ill ; but he answered only by a faint inar- 
 ticulate sound, followed by another deep 
 groan. Upon endeavouring to raise the 
 man, they found his clothes drenciied, as 
 if newly emerged from the water, and one 
 of his thighs broken a little above the 
 knee. Ellen, always prompt in deciding, 
 and not less so in acting, ordered John 
 Bell to hasten home, take a horse, and ride 
 to Shuttledale for doctor Opal, fetching 
 him to Glenthorn as speedily as possible, 
 as she expected they would be able to get 
 the invalid tliere before he could arrive 
 Others were now sent up to the cottage 
 for blankets ; and while these were pro- 
 curing, the rest proceeded to examine the 
 wounded man more narrowly, and found 
 c 2
 
 28 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 that his head was cut in several places. 
 The blankets were now arrived — but still 
 a difficulty occurred, how he could be car- 
 ried in his crippled state. 
 
 Ellen's mind was always fertile in ex- 
 pedients ; she caused a pair of oars to be 
 brought, and warping them together with 
 ropes, they were covered with blankets, 
 and thus formed a litter, upon which he 
 was carried to the nearest cottage. Ellen, 
 leaning on her husband's arm, entered the 
 hut, her cheek glowing with animation, 
 and the tear of sensibility trembling in 
 her eye. So deeply had her mind been 
 impressed with the conviction that some 
 accident would this night happen, or so 
 prudently had she provided for the exi- 
 gencies that might occur, that she now 
 drew from her pocket a small flask of 
 wine, and pouring out a little, prevailed 
 upon the invalid to swallow it. Still he 
 appeared incapable of speaking ; and, as the 
 storm had now subsided, he was placed 
 upon the litter, and with all the caution 
 and gentleness possible carried out. Mr.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 29 
 
 Angus taking Ellen on his arm, they 
 walked by the side of the vehicle, and in 
 this order they reached Glenthorn about 
 two in the morning.
 
 30 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Ha I com'st thou now so late to mock 
 
 A wanderer's banished heart forlorn. 
 Now that his frame the lightning's shock 
 
 Of sun ra)?s tipt with death has borne. 
 From love, from friendship, country torn, 
 
 To memory's maddening pangs the prey ? 
 Vile slave! thy yellow dross I scorn; 
 
 Go, mix thee with thy kindred clay! Leyden. 
 
 A mysterious Character. 
 
 The servant who was despatched to Shiit- 
 tledale for doctor Opal had spared neither 
 himself, nor his master's horse ; and arriv- 
 ing at the doctor's mansion, thundered at 
 the door with an impetuosity commensu- 
 rate to the importance of his message. 
 The son of Galen had that day rode a 
 long journey, arrived late and much fa- 
 tigued ; he was just dropped asleep, when 
 the rude strokes from the butt-end of 
 John Bell's whip assailed his ears.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 31 
 
 *' Who the devil is that now?" cried 
 he, rubbing his eyes ; " do they imagine 
 that my bones are made of iron, and my 
 carcase cased in sheet copper? that con- 
 founded mare too ! she has been twice at 
 her tricks with me this evening, and I 
 may reckon myself fortunate in being only 
 soused over head and ears in Hatton mill- 
 ford — she's fairly foundered, that's clear, 
 and I'll never cross her back again." 
 
 During this soliloquy, John's patience 
 being run down, he repeated his strokes 
 with greater violence, muttering ejacula- 
 tions of no gentle kind. 
 
 Rising with tardy motion and rehictant 
 step, doctor Opal now flung up the sash, 
 and in a surly tone inquired who was there? 
 
 " Ye maun come awa' wi' me, sir," re- 
 plied John. 
 
 ** Where — or for what purpose?" asked 
 doctor Opal. 
 
 " Oh sir, the man's drowned an' killed 
 forby ! his thie bane's brokon, an' his head's 
 a' bruised !" cried John.
 
 82 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 " If his neck were broken, I'll not go 
 out to-night — do you not hear one o'clock 
 struck ? besides I am sick, and cannot rise; 
 go to doctor Doubledose," said tlie man of 
 medicine. 
 
 " Na, na, sir ! I never saw ane of your 
 trade but yoursel' at Glenthorn, an' my 
 mistress wad na be pleased wi' any other." 
 
 " Glenthorn ! — your mistress ! — I hope 
 Mrs. Angus has not broke her thigh?" 
 cried doctor Opal warmly. 
 
 " Ou na, sir; I told you it was a man — 
 a stranger — we've had an awfu' night, sir, 
 But come awa, an' I'll tell you a' about it 
 by the road," said John. 
 
 Doctor Opal now hastily pulled the bell, 
 and again addressing the messenger, said — 
 " Tie your horse to the ring at the door, 
 and the servant will let you hi. This will 
 be some of Mrs. Angus's whims — but she 
 must not be neglected, although there's 
 not another in the parish of Keillorburn 
 that should ha,ve made me take horse at 
 this hour, and in such a night."
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 33 
 
 The son of Esciilapius was dressed in a 
 twinkling, and entered the kitchen, calling 
 for his boots and spurs. 
 
 " Whare's your horse, sir?" said John. 
 
 " Oh he is always ready — here, Betty, 
 buckle these spurs — and give the man some 
 bread and cheese, and a bottle of ale." 
 
 The doctor entered the laboratory, which 
 was partitioned off from the kitchen, stuf- 
 fed his pockets with what he conceived 
 would be necessary, made his egress by a 
 side door; and while John was allaying 
 the cravings of an empty stomach, by re- 
 peated slices from an old cheese before him, 
 the splicer of limbs, availing himself of the 
 readiest conveyance, loosened John's horse 
 from the ring where he was fastened, 
 mounted, and set off at full gallop. 
 
 John heard the clatter of the horse's 
 feet, and swallowing a mouthful of cheese, 
 which might have stuck in a gullet of or- 
 dinary dimensions, exclaimed — " Od's my 
 life! there's a bonny job— my horse is 
 loose — an' afF at the clean flight !" 
 c 3
 
 34 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 " He'll no be tint," said Betty, with a 
 half sarcastic smile; " the doctor's on's 
 back — an' ye ken there's no a better rider 
 for ten miles round — he'll gang to Glen- 
 thorn brawlie." 
 
 " Awa' upo' my horse! saul ! that's a 
 trick an' a ha'f !" exclaimed John, " an' 
 without ever speerin' my leave — 1 maun 
 say he's no blate ; however it maks na' — I 
 sail ha'e pennyworths o' his fine blood 
 mare afore I sleep — I'll try her mettle for 
 ance !" 
 
 " I'm thinkin' ye'U as weel let her stand 
 i' the sta'," said Betty : " I heard the doctor 
 say, she'd come twice down wi' him the 
 night, forby con pin' him o'er the lugs i' 
 the burn — there was na a dry steek upon 
 him whan he cam' in." 
 
 *' Ay, that comes o' his ridiiT at the hunts 
 wi' the gentry ! he has foundered the poor 
 beast, an' a bonny creature she was; but 
 he's a deel of a rider, baith night an' day ; 
 however, I'll ha'e naething ado wi' her at 
 that rate — but how am I to get hame ?" 
 
 "Oh deed, lad, your banes are a' hale.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 35 
 
 an' there's nae hurry ; ye maun just tak' 
 shanks nagie — but tak' some mair cheese 
 an' bread; an' you'll no be the waur of a 
 dram afore ye set out; it will help to fiey 
 awa' the frost wind." 
 
 John made a virtue of necessity, and 
 gradually resuming his good humour, 
 began a fresh attack upon the cheese, which 
 he now masticated with due patience ; and 
 when Betty presented the dram, he in- 
 sisted that she should set him the example ; 
 after which, tossing off his glass to her good 
 health, he set his bosom to the blast, alter- 
 nately smiling and cursing at the trick 
 which had been played him. 
 
 When the invalid arrived at Glenthorn, 
 he was laid on a couch prepared for him 
 on the floor of a bedroom, and after some 
 time, seemed to revive a little, but was 
 still unable to speak : his age appeared not 
 to exceed twenty-five— his dress indicated 
 that he had been a passenger and not a 
 seaman, but no conjecture could be formed 
 about his rank in life. 
 
 Doctor Opal lost no time by the way, for
 
 36 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 the weather was unpropitious for those ab- 
 stractions of mind to which he was some- 
 times subject. Upon arrival he was met 
 by Mrs. Angus, with whom lie seemed 
 inclined to enter into conversation ; but 
 she patted him on the cheek, saying — 
 " Come, doctor, you must see your patient, 
 and we will talk afterwards." 
 
 From the time that had elapsed since the 
 accident, much swelling had ensued ; the 
 bone appeared also to be broken in two dif- 
 ferent places ; and doctor Opal expressed 
 his reluctance to any attempt at reducing 
 the fracture, without an assistant. None 
 being to be had nearer than Shuttledale, 
 an express was despatched for doctor Spa- 
 tula; and in the mean time an anodyne 
 being administered to the patient, they 
 retired to the parlour fire to wait doctor 
 Spatula's arrival; and tliere doctor Opal 
 expressed his apprehensions, that amputa- 
 tion would be necessary ; but he would 
 not decide without a consultation, and 
 should they have recourse to this opera- 
 tion, he wished to have a coadjutor.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 37 
 
 When doctor Spatula was roused from 
 his slumbers, and informed that he was 
 wanted at Glenthorn — " Ay," said he, 
 " what can have happened ? or where is 
 doctor Opal? however, it is lucky — Ellen 
 Wallace owes me a job, for with her clo- 
 set of cordial waters, coUyriums, cathar- 
 tics, styptics, emollients, powders, and 
 sticking-plasters, she cures both blind and 
 cripple, and also more than half the co- 
 lics, cuts, bruises, and broken heads that 
 happen in the parish, to the serious injury 
 of all the practitioners in Shuttledale; and, 
 for me, I cannot enumerate the patients I 
 have lost by her officious interference ; 
 but if this should be an important case, it 
 may make some amends — at any rate, I 
 must avail myself of the opportunity to 
 gain her good opinion ; for the recommen- 
 dation of Mrs. Angus would have more 
 influence in the parish of Keillorburn, 
 than a degree from the University of 
 Aberdeen." By the time that this mono- 
 logue was finished, doctor Spatula was 
 dressed and ready to march ; but felt rather
 
 38 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 disappointed, when, from his inquiries at 
 the servant, he discovered that he was 
 wanted only as an assistant to doctor Opal, 
 where he had calculated upon being em- 
 ployed as the principal. 
 
 A relation of the shipwreck, and other 
 topics, beguiled the time at Glenthorn till 
 doctor Spatula arrived ; when a consulta- 
 tion being held, both agreed that amputa- 
 tion was essentially necessary, as the only 
 probable means of saving the patient's life : 
 this being announced to him, he spoke for 
 the first time, and merely saying — **Very 
 well — do as you please." 
 
 Ellen's heart overflowed with "the milk 
 of human kindness ;" she had also what 
 appeared an anomaly in her own disposi- 
 tion, as well as rather uncommon to her 
 sex — for she possessed a fortitude, both of 
 body and mind, not easily shaken. Not- 
 withstanding the fatigue which she had 
 for the last twelve hours experienced, 
 during which her mind had also been much 
 agitated, she refused to go to bed till the 
 operation should be performed upon the
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 39 
 
 unfortunate sufferer, whom Providence 
 had thus cast upon her care ; and no en- 
 treaties could induce her to change this 
 resolution. 
 
 The necessary preparations were made 
 with the least possible delay, and the hap- 
 less sufferer underwent the operation with- 
 out wincing, or even uttering a single 
 groan. In the course of the day he sick- 
 ened, and doctor Opal, on his next visit, 
 seemed very doubtful of the result. Soon 
 after, the poor man became delirious, and 
 symptoms of mortification appeared. He 
 continued to talk with much incoherence, 
 and often exclaimed — " Oh, Barbara ! oh, 
 woman ! take her away !" 
 
 Mortification was now far advanced, 
 and his recovery being imj)ossible, it ap- 
 peared improper to sootli his mind with 
 delusive hopes ; doctor Opal therefore told 
 him, that it might be well to prepare for 
 whatever change might take place. — 
 " Thank Heaven !" said the dying man ; 
 " send for a minister to drive away these 
 fiends, that I may die in peace !"
 
 40 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 He sunk into a slumber, from which 
 awaking, he cried — " Is the minister 
 come? Oh, that master! — that woman! 
 oh take them away !" After gazing wild- 
 ly around him, he cried, in a hurried and 
 agitated voice — " My vest ! — give me my 
 vest!" Conceiving this to be delirium, 
 they endeavoured to sooth him ; but he 
 repeated — " My vest ! — my vest !" It was 
 handed to him, when, averting his face, 
 with dreadful contortions and trembling 
 hands, he groped for a private pocket in 
 the breast, from which snatching a green 
 silk purse, he hastily dashed it on the 
 floor, crying, in accents of horror — " Bury 
 it ! burn it ! but, no ! keep it for her, whom 
 
 I have oh, it will not harm you ! but 
 
 in mercy to a dying sinner, oh take it 
 from the room !'* 
 
 Those about him were much struck 
 with what they heard and saw : the purse 
 still lay on the floor; when giving a hur- 
 ried glance, the patient observed it, and 
 exclaimed, in agony — " Oh, will you not 
 take it away that I may die ?"
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 41 
 
 Doctor Opal then requested that the purse 
 might be put aside to gratify the poor suf- 
 ferer; but Mr. Angus insisted that they 
 should first examine the contents, in pre- 
 sence of all who had seen it thrown on 
 the floor. Doctor Opal took it up, remark- 
 ing, that it seemed well filled : the con- 
 tents were emptied out on a table, and it 
 was observed, that at the chink of the 
 gold, the muscles of the patient's face were 
 convulsed. It was found to contain four 
 hundred and fifty pounds in Bank of Eng- 
 land notes, sixty-five guineas in gold, be- 
 sides several French louis. — " Here are 
 upwards of five hundred pounds," said doc- 
 tor Opal. 
 
 " Five hundred curses ! Oh, for Hea- 
 ven's sake take them away!" exclaimed 
 the dying man. A memorandum was 
 now made of the sum and circumstances 
 connected with it, which being subscribed 
 by those present, was deposited in the 
 purse along with the money, and consign- 
 ed to the care of Mr. Angus, who, in com- 
 pliance with the earnest and reiterated
 
 42 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 wishes of the dying stranger, took it 
 away. — " Now! now!" said he, " were 
 the minister here, I think I might die in 
 peace; but I must see him, for I cannot 
 die !" 
 
 They began now to be convinced that 
 some horrid sense of guilt oppressed the 
 mind of this poor wretch ; and the cler- 
 gyman was immediately sent for, who, 
 living at a little distance, arrived soon 
 after. 
 
 Upon being announced — " Oh, bring 
 him in !" cried the mysterious man ; ** for 
 
 I feel that I am dying fast, and, oh ! " 
 
 The minister came in, approached to the 
 patient, who, raising his nearly-fixed eyes, 
 cried — " Oh, sir, pray for a guilty, a dy- 
 ing sinner !" 
 
 " Who, or what are you ?" said the cler- 
 gyman. 
 
 " A villain ! — a oh !" and his face 
 
 became convulsed. He was requested to 
 be calm, and, if possible, give some ac- 
 count of himself, as it appeared most prob- 
 able that he was dying. — " Oh that I had
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 43 
 
 died three months ago!" cried he; " I had 
 then died innocent of — what Heaven will 
 not forgive — Oh, vile master! — silly wo- 
 man ! — I have doubled her guilt too — there 
 she is ! — oh take her away ! No ! she will 
 follow me to the grave — to the gates of 
 
 " He gasped for breath, and after 
 
 much internal struggling, said, in a brok- 
 en and fainter voice — " Poor good lady ! 
 pardon the wretch who joined in the hel- 
 lish plot; who — your husband— your 
 childr— your money — all by wretches — 
 vile woman ! cursed purse ! Oh that I 
 could live to restore it ! but, no — Heaven 
 
 is just — and I am oh, pray ! pray !" 
 
 His head sunk, his eyes fixed, his whole 
 frame was convulsed, and he expired. 
 
 It was impossible for any present to 
 suppress their emotion — the scene was a 
 most impressive lesson. A servant maid 
 who had witnessed the whole was carried 
 out in hysterics. 
 
 After searching the pockets of the de- 
 ceased, no letter, nor memorandum of any 
 kind, could be found, from which any
 
 44 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 thing could be discovered concerning him, 
 whose death had involved his dark sayings 
 in impenetrable mystery.
 
 FOUNDLING OP GLENTHORN. 45 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 O wliare gat ye that bonnie bairn, 
 
 Wi' curlin' locks o' gowden hue ; 
 Whase cheeks bloom like the new-blown rose, 
 
 His een twa blobs o' mornin dew? Anoji. 
 
 More Mystery. 
 
 The circumstances attending the death of 
 this mysterious stranger could not fail of 
 exciting the curiosity of those who are 
 fond of the marvellous, and who only 
 heard them related with all the embellish- 
 ments and exaggeration which common 
 fame so bountifully bestows upon what- 
 ever is alHed to the wonderful. In the 
 present case there was ample foundation 
 for raising a superstructure sufficient to 
 excite the admiration of the credulous, and 
 furnish food for the gossiping vulgar. The 
 story was accordingly a never-failing topic
 
 46 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 at all the rustic meetins^s — such as wed- 
 dings, funerals, cockfigh tings, or whatever 
 collected a number of people together; 
 even on Sundays, for several weeks after, 
 they might be seen standing in groups 
 in the churchyard, their ears bent with 
 the most earnest attention to the black- 
 smith and village tailor, who, from their 
 various sources of information, were sup- 
 posed to know most of the mystery ; be- 
 sides, they have in general a smack of vul- 
 gar oratory, which seldom fails to tickle 
 the ears of their auditors. On the present 
 occasion, no respect was paid to the max- 
 im, De mortuis nil nisi honum ; for, like 
 a snowball, the story gathered as it rolled. 
 According to one narrator, the shipwreck- 
 ed stranger had murdered his mistress, and 
 robbed her of a thousand pounds. Ano- 
 ther degraded him into a monster, who 
 had barbarously assassinated husband, wife, 
 and child, plundering them of a sum ex- 
 ceeding ten thousand pounds, all of which 
 the conscience-stricken wretch had given 
 to David Angus, as the heirs were all de-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 47 
 
 stroyed. Such were the reports by which 
 a mysterious event was* magnified in the 
 course of a few weeks: the conjectures 
 formed, and conckisions drawn, it is unne- 
 cessary to repeat ; but all agreed that Mr. 
 Angus was enriched by this strange af- 
 fair, and would soon purchase a landed es- 
 tate. 
 
 Winter had passed away; the farmer 
 was seen clothed in white, stalking with 
 measured step along the field, followed by 
 several teams of harrows, at which the 
 cheerful boy blithly whistled, while the 
 dust rising behind him, moved slowly to 
 leeward in a dense and thick cloud. Mr. 
 Angus, after waiting a considerable time, 
 had prudently deposited the money so 
 mysteriously left in his hands, in the Bank, 
 with the exception of the foreign gold, 
 which he retained in the green silk purse, 
 concluding that they might at some future 
 period be the means of elucidating this 
 dark affair, which had for some time rather 
 vexed him ; but the bustle incident to a
 
 48 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 farmer's life at this season, had again re- 
 stored his wonted tranquillity. 
 
 The public road between Shuttledale 
 and Salmon ferry passed upon the boun- 
 daries of Mr. Angus's farm, and some of 
 his cottars resided contiguous to the high- 
 way, which was much frequented, not on- 
 ly from the intercourse between the towns 
 just mentioned, but also as being the coast 
 road through that part of Scotland. 
 
 One day, about the middle of April, a 
 carrier's cart was passing from Shuttledale, 
 and the driver stopping with some person 
 whom he met, the horse jogged on, till 
 coming to a slough in the road, both cart 
 and horse were overturned. Upon the 
 cart were seated a woman and child, who 
 in this accident narrowly escaped destruc- 
 tion, by pitching on the soft sward beyond 
 the ditch, where both the horse and shat- 
 tered vehicle were precipitated. The ac- 
 cident had happened nearly opposite to 
 the cottages just mentioned, and was ob- 
 served by a ploughman's wife, who has- 
 tened to the spot : neither woman nor
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 49 
 
 child seemed to be much hurt, although 
 the former appeared in great agitation, 
 and the latter squalled loudly. By taking 
 the child in her arms, and making the wo- 
 man lean upon her shoulder, the hospitable 
 matron succeeded in conducting them to 
 her cottage. The child being stripped 
 and examined, no injury could be per- 
 ceived ; but the woman appeared ill, and 
 expressed great anxiety about a small cas- 
 ket, which she had on her lap when thrown 
 from the cart. Her kind hostess offered 
 to go and look for it ; but the stranger in- 
 sisted upon being again led out to make 
 the search herself. The child was left in 
 charge of a little girl, and the cottager, ra- 
 ther piqued at the resolution of her guest, 
 which she conceived implied a suspicion 
 of her fidelity, lost no time in conducting 
 her to the spot. The casket could not be 
 seen; the woman began to talk to the 
 carrier, in a style which he did not relish, 
 and replied to in a common proverb, which 
 tinged her cheeks with scarlet. She how- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 ever sat down upon a hillock, till the cart 
 should be raised, as several people had 
 come from a neighbouring field to assist 
 the poor man. In the mean time the cot- 
 tager had returned to her house to care 
 for the child, which she now found to be 
 a fine boy, apparently about eighteen 
 months old : he was washed and put to 
 bed, where he soon fell soundly asleep. 
 A considerable time had elapsed before 
 the cart and its heterogeneous load were 
 raised, when the casket was found in the 
 bottom of the ditch, and seized with trem- 
 bling avidity by its owner, who hastened 
 to the cottage, declaring herself too ill to 
 proceed ; but to this there was also ano- 
 ther obstacle; for the shafts of the cart 
 being broken, the journey was unavoid- 
 ably postponed. 
 
 The hospitable cottager with whom the 
 stranger and child were lodged, had no 
 accommodation for them during the night; 
 but knowing the benevolence of Mrs. An- 
 gus, she dispatched her little girl to the 
 farm, with an account of the accident, and
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 51 
 
 requesting that Mrs. Angus would have 
 the goodness to see the woman, if she 
 could spare as much time. To be unfor- 
 tunate, or in want of assistance, w^as at all 
 times a sufficient recommendation to the 
 protection of Ellen Wallace, who arrived 
 at the cottage soon after the girl's return. 
 She was much interested in the appear- 
 ance of the boy, and began by inquiring 
 of the stranger whether she were his mo- 
 ther? — " No, ma'am," was the answer, 
 followed by a deep sigh. Upon Mrs. An- 
 gus expressing a wish to know something 
 of their history, the woman burst into 
 tears ; and the humane Ellen observing 
 that both she and the child were in mourn- 
 ing, afraid that she might have touched 
 too sensible a chord in the feelings of the 
 stranger, made the requisite apology, re- 
 questing the woman to compose her mind ; 
 and concluded by inquiring, whether she 
 would be able to accompany her where 
 she would be more comfortably lodged, 
 till capable of resuming her journey. This 
 D 2 
 
 wwtRsmr of' 
 H.UN01S LmR^RY
 
 52 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 kind offer was received with a profusion 
 of thanks, and readily accepted by the 
 stranger, who now accompanied Ellen, the 
 cottager's wife carrying the child. 
 
 Soon after their arrival at Glen thorn, 
 the woman said that she felt herself ill ; 
 not, she believed, from any hurt that she 
 had received, but from the sudden alarm 
 which she had experienced : she therefore 
 requested leave to retire, expressing a 
 hope of being well by next morning. She 
 was accordingly conducted to a bedroom, 
 accompanied by the child, where both soon 
 fell asleep. 
 
 The woman appeared to be from twen- 
 ty-five to thirty years of age, and her lan- 
 guage and manners indicated that she had 
 been a servant in some respectable family. 
 Next morning she declared herself almost 
 well, and believed she could proceed on 
 her journey if a conveyance could be 
 found ; adding, that she now felt it a du- 
 ty, in return for so much kindness, to give 
 some account of herself, and the dear in- 
 fant under her charge. She then related
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 53 
 
 that she had been servant to the lady of 
 
 captain Inglesby, of the regiment, 
 
 who having lately sailed for the AVest In- 
 dies, left his wife and child at Chelmsford, 
 where soon after her mistress died of a 
 scarlet fever; in consequence of which she 
 had written to the father of her dear de- 
 parted mistress, Angus Monro, esquire, 
 Fraserburgh, who had ordered her to 
 come by sea to Aberdeen, with his grand- 
 son, from whence he would conduct them 
 home; that not finding a ship for any 
 port nearer than Leith, she had come thi- 
 ther by sea ; but as her dear Charles had 
 continued sick during the voyage, she had 
 for his sake preferred making the rest of 
 the journey by land, and arrived at Shut- 
 tledale in a postchaise ; but as yesterday 
 was fine, and the stage short, she had, from 
 economy, taken her seat on a carrier's cart, 
 which she now exceedingly regretted. 
 This relation was interrupted by many 
 heavy sighs ; several pathetic apostrophes 
 were uttered, and tears shed to the me-
 
 54 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 niory of her dear good lady, by which the 
 tender-hearted and sympathetic Ellen was 
 so much affected, that she also wept, as 
 she bent her head over the lovely orphan 
 boy, who lay smiling on her lap. His 
 nurse now ran and brought the casket, 
 about which she had shewn so much anx- 
 iety, and opening it, shewed to Mrs. An- 
 gus many valuable trinkets, which she 
 said were the property of her dear lament- 
 ed lady; among these was a gold w^atch, 
 of antique workmanship, which she said 
 had been an heirloom in captain Ingles- 
 by's family for several generations; and 
 had been left with his wife upon his de- 
 parture for the West Indies. 
 
 The woman appeared very anxious ta 
 reach the end of her journey, that she 
 might put her dear little Charles under 
 the protection of the only parents who 
 were now to care for him ; and as she had 
 been in the family befoi-e leaving Scotland 
 with her lady, she had no doubt of being 
 continued as nurse to the sweet baby, from
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 55 
 
 whom she would now feel it painful to 
 part, after having been accustomed to 
 think him her own. 
 
 Ellen was delighted with the tender- 
 ness which she evinced in speaking of her 
 departed mistress, and the attachment 
 which she shewed to the hapless child; 
 and having formed so favourable an opi- 
 nion of the stranger, treated her not only 
 with kindness, but with respectful atten- 
 tion, as the representative of her mistress ; 
 and thus another day passed away. 
 
 Next morning Mrs. Angus was called 
 to Shuttledale, to visit her sister, who had 
 been taken ill : she requested the stranger 
 not to depart till her return, and obtained 
 her consent to stay another night. A ser- 
 vant-maid was instructed to attend her 
 and the child, in whatever they might 
 want; and the girl felt much pleasure in 
 the opportunity of gossiping with an equal 
 of her own age and sex, who had seen En- 
 glish fashions. 
 
 Soon after Ellen's departure, Mary 
 Smith went into the room when the
 
 56 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 stranger was dressing her nursling; by 
 some attempts at assisting her, tliey slid 
 into conversation, which in a short time 
 assumed much colloquial ease and free- 
 dom. The woman was profuse in her eu- 
 logiums upon Mrs. Angus, whose kindness 
 and attentions, she said, could never be 
 forgotten. 
 
 " Oh," said Mary, " you ken little about 
 my mistress ; 1 dinna believe that she has 
 a marraw : she does mair good to the poor 
 than a' the farmers' wives o' the parish. 
 I ken nane like her, except Job, whom I 
 was readin' about in the Bible on Sunday 
 night, whare he says — ' The cause that I 
 knew not, I searched out / an* I said to 
 mysel' at the time, ' that's just the way o' 
 my mistress.' I was ance wi' a mistress 
 wha ran ben the house whan she saw ony 
 beggars cumin'; an' had a' the servants 
 learned to say — ' The gude wife's no' in.' 
 Eut Mrs. Angus is a pear of anither tree ; 
 for if she hear of either poverty or sick- 
 ness, she speers after't; gangs an' sees 
 them, be wha they like ; an' its weel kent
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 57 
 
 she never gangs alane. She'll think nae- 
 thing o' wading thro' frost an' sna', wi' a 
 coat, a blanket, or a lapfu' o' meal to a 
 poor family. But an' you had seen her 
 ae night this bygane winter! I didna 
 think that ane o' her sect cud ha'e borne 
 what she ga'ed thro' afore she sattled; 
 but that was an extraordinary case ; I'm 
 sure I'll never forget it ; an' it was a' her 
 ain seekin' too." 
 
 " Pray what was it ?" said the stranger. 
 
 Here Mary began, and told most cir- 
 cumstantially, and with no little rustic 
 pathos, the story of the shipwreck, and 
 the discovery of the man in the Smug- 
 glers' Cave, as already related. 
 
 " And what became of the man ?" said 
 the stranger, interrupting her. 
 
 " Oh, he died !" cried Mary, in an alter- 
 ed voice, and shuddering with horror as 
 she spoke. 
 
 " Died ! poor wretch !" exclaimed the 
 woman. 
 
 " Ah ! weel may you say poor wretch, 
 D3
 
 58 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 if you had heard what I heard, an' seen 
 what I saw !" rephed Mary. 
 
 " Dear woman, what was that?" in- 
 quired the stranger. 
 
 " Oh sic a death ! may Heaven never let 
 ony Christian ha'e sic a wa' gang — at least 
 may I never see't !" exclaimed Mary. 
 
 " You frighten me !" 
 
 " Ae, woman ! an' you had heard the 
 wretch afore he died, cryin' — * Oh, Barba- 
 ra ! oh^ woman ! take her away ! an' let me 
 get peace to die !' an' syne he cried for his 
 vest, an' wadna sattle till they put it in 
 his hands. I think I see him yet grip the 
 purse in agony, an' clash it upo' the floor ! 
 ay, an' whan the gowd clinket, how he 
 set his teeth thegither an' threw his face, 
 eryin' — *Bury it! — burn it! — but, no! keep 
 it for the lady 1' An' whan they counted 
 o'er the siller, sayin', there was mair nor 
 five hunder pound o't — * Five hundred 
 curses !' cried he, startin' frae the bed, an' 
 prayin' them for goodness sake to tak' it 
 awa'. An' syne whan the minister cam' 
 an' speered wha he was — ' A villain!*
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 59 
 
 cried he; an' raved about a lady an' a 
 bairn, wham some master, that he ca'd a 
 devil, an' a vile woman had gar't him rob 
 an' ruin. An' he keepit ravin, cryin' to 
 tak' them awa', till his breath was out — for 
 they wad follow him to the grave." 
 
 Mary had been much agitated while re- 
 lating these particulars, and looking at 
 the stranger, saw that she also was trou- 
 bled ; upon which she said — " I think I've 
 frightened you wi' tellin' this ; what wad 
 you ha'e been an' you had seen't as I did ? 
 I'm sure I think I see the green purse at 
 this moment!'* 
 
 " A green purse !" repeated the stran- 
 ger, with evident agitation. 
 
 " Ay, a green silk purse, in' weel filled 
 it was — let me see — ay, there was four 
 hunder an' fifty pound Bank of English 
 notes, an' threescore an' five guineas o' 
 gowd, some o' them French : the purse, 
 wi'a' this in't, played clash i' the floor, just 
 upo' the very spot whare you're sittin'." 
 
 " Here !" cried the woman, starting to 
 her feet, and seating herself at the greatest
 
 60 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN, 
 
 possible distance ; " was it in this room ?" 
 
 " Ay, this very room ! he died in that 
 bed ; but you needna be fleyed ; the claes 
 ha'e been a' shifted. Mrs. Angus looks 
 after a' the like o' that," said Mary. 
 
 Her auditor began to look wildly, and 
 after a pause said — " Oh dear ! you have 
 indeed frightened me dreadfully !" Reco- 
 vering a little, she added — " What a child 
 I am ! I am sure I should have died had 
 I seen the old man die !" 
 
 " Old man !" repeated Mary ; '* bless you ! 
 he was a very fine looking young fellow." 
 
 " Oh dear ! — a young sailor ?" said the 
 stranger. 
 
 " No ; he was no sailor ; he was a gen- 
 teel lad in mournings, with long black 
 hair tied in a queue." 
 
 " Pray talk no more about it; for in- 
 deed I am sick ; it has brought my dear 
 lady so fresh to my memory." 
 
 The woman was now very sick ; but a 
 draught of water and a little time banish- 
 ed the fit, although she did not recover 
 her spirits during the day *, yet she con-
 
 FOUNBLING OF GLENTHOKN. 61 
 
 trived to look cheerfully upon the arrival 
 of Mrs. Angus. She sat later than usual, 
 and before retiring, it was agreed that Mr. 
 Angus was to send her forward next day, 
 in a cart, to Salmon Ferry, as the distance 
 was short. 
 
 During the night, the family were a- 
 larmed with dreadful cries of most fright- 
 ful sound, and they were found to proceed 
 from the stranger's room. All the inmates 
 of the house being alarmed, proceeded to 
 the spot; for the woman still continued 
 to scream, and the child was now crying. 
 Upon entering, they found her standing 
 in the floor, looking wildly. Ellen re- 
 quested her husband to retire, and, accom- 
 panied by a maid-servant, went gently up 
 to her, inquiring what was the matter ?-^ 
 " Oh ! — oh ! take him away !" were the 
 only words she uttered for some time; 
 and sinking in a chair, a slight cordial was 
 administered, which appeared to restore 
 her recollection. — " Oh dear!" said she, 
 " I have been sadly alarmed, although 
 perhaps it was only a dream ; but indeed
 
 62 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 I thought there was a man in the room, 
 about to rob me, and murder my dear 
 little Charles ! Oh, I should never have 
 been able to meet Mrs. Monro, even if I 
 had lost only her daughter's jewels. Dear 
 Mrs. Angus, take that casket, and keep it 
 in your own room till I go away." 
 
 " Well," said Ellen, " I shall do so to 
 humour you, although it is safe enough 
 here : there can have been no robber ; it 
 must have been a dream : go to bed and 
 compose yourself." 
 
 " Oh, I cannot sleep there again ! I 
 have been so terrified !" said she. 
 
 "I will cause one of the maids to sleep 
 with you," said Ellen. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! I will sleep with any of 
 the maids, but not here! do not ask me!" 
 and her alarm appeared to return. 
 
 Mrs. Angus, in pity for her perturba- 
 tion, bade Mary Smith conduct her to 
 her bed, where, having seen her laid, and 
 quiet, the kind-hearted Ellen retired again 
 to rest. 
 
 The stranger rose late in the morning,
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 63 
 
 with an uncouth and bewildered look ; 
 she however endeavoured to laugh at her 
 own weakness, in being so much fright- 
 ened by a dream, and apologized for the 
 disturbance which she had caused in the 
 family. 
 
 The day was a thick fog and rain ex- 
 pected. Mrs. Angus would not therefore 
 allow her to depart until the weather should 
 clear up. 
 
 The woman said, as she could not get 
 her journey resumed to-day, she would 
 embrace the present opportunity of walk- 
 ing out, and calling upon the cottager's 
 wife, to whose kindness she had been in- 
 debted. 
 
 Ellen requested her to wait for an hour, 
 arid she would accompany her; but her 
 guest replied, that there was no occasion, 
 as she knew the way ; besides, it would 
 rain by that time. Ellen, believing from 
 her .manner that she did not wish her com- 
 pany, urged the matter no farther, and 
 allowed her to depart alone a little after 
 breakfast.
 
 64 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 The hour of dinner came, and she had 
 not returned ; but it rained heavily, which 
 seemed an excuse for her stay : the sun 
 set, and it was now fair weather ; still there 
 was no appearance of the stranger. 
 
 Mary Smith was dispatched to escort her 
 home, and the girl departed with a look 
 which seemed to say — " I may spare my 
 travel !" It was twilight when she retumed 
 with the information, that the stranger had 
 not been at the cottage. " What can have 
 happened to her ?" said Ellen ; " there was 
 no danger in the way — I am quite asto- 
 nished ! and where can we seek her, now 
 that it is dark?" 
 
 " 'Deed, mistress, ye needna be at the 
 fash ; for I think ye'll never see her face 
 again," said INIary Smith. 
 
 " How do you think so ?" inquired 
 Ellen. 
 
 " I dinna weel ken, an' yet I canna 
 help thinkin't ; but I sail tell you my rea- 
 sons—an' I'm feardthat my foolish tongue 
 has muckle the wyte o't," replied the 
 girl.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN; 65 
 
 " You, Mary ! I cannot understand you," 
 said Ellen. 
 
 " Oh dear, mistress, dinna be angry, an* 
 I'll tell you a' about it ; I'm sure I'm angry 
 aneugh wi' mysel', but it's bein' wise a- 
 hint the hand," said Mary, half-crying. 
 " Yesterday when you were at Shuttle* 
 dale, I was beside her for a short time, an' 
 we began to crack about a h an tie things; 
 she was speakin' sae warmly about your 
 kindness, that it led me on to tell about 
 the man in the Smugglers' Cave ; an' how 
 he died, an' about the green purse that he 
 flang awa' — she's a poor hare-brained crea- 
 ture ! for she looked like a wild cat afore 
 the story was done ; an' a' the afternoon 
 was like ane dementit. I wonder ye did- 
 na notice her whan ye came hame — -an' ye 
 saw what happened thro' the night. For- 
 by, whan I gaed into her room the day 
 after she was awa', I noticed that she had 
 brunt a' the candle she g9tt ; an' I'm sure 
 it wad ha'e sair't twa or three hours ; deed, 
 whan I consider, I think she had begun to 
 scriech as soon's it grew miik about her.
 
 66 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 An' after she was beddit wi' me, she 
 shook like a buss, startin' an' grippin' 
 me, mumblin' unco words about a man, 
 the purse, a lady, an' the bairn; I truly 
 believe she was fleyed to bide anither 
 night about the town; but an' the poor 
 creature hadna been quite by hersel', she 
 wadna left the bonny bairn that she was 
 sae fond of. — Now, my dear mistress, dinna 
 be angry wi' me ; I'm sair vext at my 
 ain clatterin' tongue; but wha cud ha'e 
 thought that a stranger, wha kent naething 
 about it, wad ha'e gaen deleer'd wi' hearin' 
 the story — altho' that's maybe no the 
 thing ; yet I canna help thinkin't." 
 
 *' You are a chattering fool, Mary !" 
 said Mrs. Angus, " and had no business 
 to be talking about these matters to a 
 stranger ; however, say no more about it, 
 either among your companions here, or 
 any where else — what is already done 
 cannot be undone."
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 67 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 By Carrun's si;le, a shepherd's boy, 
 
 He binds his vale flowers with the reed; 
 
 He wears love's sunny eye of joy, 
 
 And birth he little seems to heed. Langhgrne. 
 
 A promising Plant well protected. 
 
 When Mr. Angus came in, Ellen ex- 
 pressed her apprehensions that the woman 
 had eloped, leaving them in possession of 
 the child. 
 
 The farmer, although of a placid dispo- 
 sition, did not seem to relish the informa- 
 tion ; and after a short silence said — "And 
 this is another of your whims, Ellen ! are 
 we to be made the subject of public talk 
 in town and country ?" 
 
 " Dear David, reflect for a moment, and 
 I am sure your heart will not blame me," 
 said Ellen, in her easy gentle manner; 
 " no Christian would have allowed the
 
 68 FOUNDLING OF GLENTIIORN. 
 
 poor wretch to have died in the cave, and 
 we could not foresee what was to follow. 
 You will also admit that 1 could not do 
 less than take the poor woman and child 
 to a night's lodging, after the accident 
 they met; for you know that Christy Mil- 
 ler could not keep them." 
 
 " It is all very true, Ellen ; but still there 
 is an appearance of all this humanity being 
 followed with much trouble ; and I am 
 sorry to say, that 1 cannot see where it is 
 to end," said Mr. Angus, in a tone which 
 indicated that he was much vexed. 
 
 " Indeed, my dear," said Ellen, " I am 
 as much vexed as you can well be ; but 
 still am not convinced that either of us 
 would have done our duty, had we acted 
 otherwise. But I have formed strange 
 conjectures about these events, of which 
 you are yet only partially informed." She 
 then called in Mary Smith, who related 
 more circumstantially what she had before 
 communicated to her mistress ; and being 
 strictly cautioned never to speak upon the 
 subject, was dismissed from the room.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 69 
 
 " Now, my dear, what think you of all 
 this?" said Mrs. Angus. 
 
 *• I know not what to think — there 
 seems to he some strange mystery in the 
 affair," repHed her husband. 
 
 ** Well," said Ellen, " it appears to me 
 that the hand of Providence is visible 
 through the whole; for I have a strong 
 persuasion that this woman and child are 
 they about whom the dying man talked 
 so much. Mary says, that the description 
 of the man made the stranger woman 
 nearly faint ; and I observed, that when 
 she gave me the casket, she averted her 
 face and seemed afraid to look at it ; the 
 key has also been found upon the table in 
 her room, since her departure." 
 
 " Your conjecture appears very proba- 
 ble," said Mr. Angus; " in the mean time 
 we must take care of the child, till we 
 
 write to Mr. do you recollect his 
 
 name.'' at Fraserburgh." 
 
 ** Monro," replied Ellen ; " it is certainly 
 ])roper to do so; although I suspect that 
 will turn out to be a sham story."
 
 70 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 " Let US look the almanack," said David, 
 " whether there be a captain Inglesby in 
 
 the regiment." This was done and 
 
 his name found. 
 
 A letter was dispatched to Mr. Monro, 
 with a relation of the circumstances, to 
 which a reply was received, stating that 
 he had no daughter married in the army ; 
 and that there was not another of his name 
 in the county. 
 
 " It is just as I suspected," said Ellen. 
 
 Colonel Melville of Beechwood was 
 David Angus's landlord ; his seat was 
 within two miles of Glenthorn, and as 
 David was intimate with the colonel, he 
 proposed waiting upon him and relating 
 the story, when perhaps he would be able 
 to procure some information concerning 
 captain Inglesby. Colonel Melville was 
 much interested in the strange tale ; said, 
 that he did not believe that any part of the 
 
 regiment was in the West Indies; but 
 
 that he could easily procure all the informa- 
 tion wanted. Soon after he called one morn- 
 ing at Glenthorn, and seating himself with
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 71 
 
 David and Ellen in the parlour, produced 
 a letter from the major of the regiment, 
 stating that it was in England, and that 
 captain Inglesby and his lady were both 
 in good health, advanced in years, and all 
 their family grown up. 
 
 After thanking colonel Melville for the 
 trouble which he had taken, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Angus said, that they had anticipated no 
 favourable reply, as they suspected the 
 whole story to be a fabrication. 
 
 " Let me see the boy," said the colonel. 
 
 The child was brought in ; colonel Mel- 
 ville took him on his knee, when the little 
 fellow smiled in his face, and began play- 
 ing with his watch-chain. 
 
 " I wish you both joy of this fine child," 
 cried their landlord, heartily shaking hands 
 with Mr. and Mrs. Angus ; ** you have no 
 children of your own, and ought to look 
 upon this lovely boy as a son sent you by 
 Heaven; I am sure you think so, and 
 do not intend parting with him." Ellen's 
 eye glanced delightfully on colonel Mel-
 
 72 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 ville, and seemed silently to say — " Thank 
 you, sir!'* while a blush suffused itself 
 upon her cheek. 
 
 " What ! both dumb !" cried the colonel ; 
 " do you hesitate about a son sent you by 
 Providence, and a provision for his mainte- 
 nance along with him ? for I think there 
 is scarcely a doubt that the contents of the 
 green purse belong to him." 
 
 " Is that really your opinion ?" said Mr. 
 Angus. 
 
 " Why, the probability is certainly 
 strong, and I would have no hesitation in 
 applying it to his use. You have acted 
 with much humanity and prudence in the 
 whole affliir ; and I am sure can never 
 think of deserting the innocent, after hav- 
 ing done so much for the guilty." 
 
 " J believe we must keep the boy," said 
 David. 
 
 " Yes, my dear husband ! we will keep 
 him," replied Ellen, her breast heaving 
 and her eyes glistening as she spoke, and 
 pressing the smiling innocent to her bosom.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 73 
 
 " But there is still another difficulty in 
 the way," said ]Mr. Angus — " by what 
 name can we call him ?" 
 
 " Did the woman give him no name ?" 
 inquired colonel Melville. 
 
 " Yes, she called him Charles,'* said 
 Ellen ; " Inglesby was implied ; but to 
 that, it is evident, he has no just preten- 
 sions." 
 
 After a pause, colonel Melville said — 
 " Why, as she gave him a soldier for his 
 father, let him have a soldier's name — i am 
 a soldier, have you any objections to him 
 bearing mine.^" 
 
 " We can have none," replied both. 
 
 " Well, let him be Charles Melville ; it 
 will sound very well, till he get one to 
 which he has a better claim, as I hope the 
 mystery attached to him will yet be eluci- 
 dated : the trinkets you have shown me 
 indicate that he is of respectable birth ; 
 this watch is very old, of superior work- 
 manship, and appears to have been a family 
 piece, although, unfortunately, there are 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 no arms, nor crest, to afford information ; 
 still you should preserve them carefully,, 
 as the only apparent clue by which the 
 mystery can be unravelled." 
 
 " That I have already resolved upon," 
 said Mrs, Angus, " and I am firmly im- 
 pressed with the belief, that I shall live to 
 see the whole cleared up ; yes, the hand of 
 Providence is distinctly to be seen ; for 
 nothing short of force could have detained 
 me from the Ness that dreadful night ; and 
 notliing less shall now take this child from 
 my protection, till his parents are disco- 
 vered, or that he can do for himself in the 
 world." 
 
 " You are still the same warm-hearted 
 enthusiast, Mrs. Angus, and I hope will 
 yet have cause to boast of your present re- 
 solution," said colonel Melville. 
 
 " I shall endeavour to do my duty, colo- 
 nel, and trust to Heaven for the result ; if 
 Charles live to be a man of good sense and 
 spotless honour, I shall feel myself amply 
 rewarded." . 
 
 " Spoken like yourself, Ellen !" cried the
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 75 
 
 colonel ; and saying that he should feel in- 
 terested in the fate of their protege, he 
 departed. 
 
 From the moment that Mrs. Angus was 
 convinced of the woman's having abscond- 
 ed, she had formed the secret resolution of 
 taking the child under her own protection ; 
 but had felt some reluctance to make the 
 proposition to her husband, who, although 
 a good man, had much less of the romantic 
 in his disposition ; besides, she was consci- 
 ous that her journey to the Ness was by 
 him considerd as an extravaganza in be- 
 nevolence, which although he neither 
 could, nor would condemn, yet from the 
 consequences, she was sure that he would 
 have been better pleased had the thing not 
 happened. This second strange affair seem- 
 ed to follow the first as a necessary se- 
 quence, and added not a little to the em- 
 barrassment of Ellen, who was fully aware 
 of the vexation which it had given to her 
 husband. 
 
 It was therefore with a heartfelt plea- 
 E 2
 
 76 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 sure, that she heard colonel Melville ex- 
 press to David his trust that they would 
 consider little Charles as the gift of Provi- 
 dence ; for she was fully satisfied of her 
 husband's rectitude ; and that if he once 
 agreed to keep the helpless boy, he would 
 neither retract, nor discharge the duty 
 which he had undertaken in a parsimoni- 
 ous or careless manner. 
 
 The desertion of the child was a new 
 subject for public rumour and gossiping 
 conjecture ; but as the servants had been 
 interdicted from making any communica- 
 tions on the affair (and they held their 
 master and mistress in sufficient respect to 
 obey the injunction), it was a matter of 
 less notoriety ; for the strange conduct of 
 the woman on the day previous to her 
 departure had never been mentioned by 
 Mary to her fellow servants. 
 
 Ellen now began to consider herself a 
 mother ; and it were well for society that 
 mothers in general discharged their ma- 
 ternal duties with a tenderness and assi- 
 duity equal to those of Mrs. Angus.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOUN. 77 
 
 Every day added to the infant graces of 
 her adopted son; and, consequently, in- 
 creased her delight in the charge she had 
 undertaken. 
 
 His health continued good, and he ap- 
 peared a fine thriving boy, running on 
 the grass-plot in the garden, and soon 
 after, sporting on the lawn, doing much 
 credit to the attentions of his nurse. 
 
 He had now begun to amuse his protec- 
 tors with his infant prattle, when a cham- 
 ber council was held concernin^jj the desiff- 
 nation by which he should be taught to 
 distinguish them, which ended in the re- 
 solution of teaching him the endearing ap- 
 pellations of Pa and Ma, as commonly 
 practised. 
 
 By the time that he was five years of 
 age, he could read tolerably, was tall and 
 muscular, of an open and candid disposi- 
 tion, with a restless and inquiring mind. 
 There being no school near Glenthorn, he 
 continued under the tuition of Ellen till 
 turned of seven years old; during which 
 she had the satisfaction of seeing his ex-
 
 78 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOEN. 
 
 ternal appearance improve, and his mind 
 expand equal to her fondest wishes. 
 
 Always employed about something 
 which he pursued with avidity, a portion 
 of the garden had been allotted to him, to 
 be managed according to his own fancy ; 
 this he filled with shrubs and flowers se- 
 lected from various quarters. Some trees 
 had been planted in the hedge-rows on the 
 farm, and he one day picked up a poplar 
 about his own height, which had either 
 been thrown away or dropped by accident. 
 Little Charles was struck with the fancy of 
 seeing that rise to be a tree, which, but for 
 him, would have been left to perish; he car- 
 ried it home and planted it in the centre 
 of his garden — the soil was congenial — it 
 flourished surprisingly, and the delight of 
 Charles increased in proportion : he now 
 marked its progress, with a pleasure which 
 can only be conceived when memory calls 
 up before us the joys of our early years: his 
 attachment to this plant was evinced by 
 the care he took for its preservation ; he 
 fixed it to a strong stake, to protect its
 
 Foundling op glenthorx. 79 
 
 slender stem from the fury of the tempest; 
 every season added to its size, and the 
 pleasure of Charles in contemplating his 
 nursling, which was now termed Charles's 
 tree, and treated with a respect proportion- 
 ate to that shown to himself. 
 
 He had now been taught to renounce 
 the nursery expression of ilTa, and to sub- 
 stitute that of Mother in its stead. One 
 day, when walking in the garden with 
 jNIrs. Angus, he seemed under much em- 
 barrassment, and looked as if there were 
 something upon his mind that he was 
 either unable to express, or afraid to utter; 
 he was absent to whatever was said to 
 him, and seemed lost in abstraction of 
 thought. Ellen having for some time ob- 
 served this, said — " My dear Cliarles, are 
 you not well to-day ?** 
 
 "Very well, thank you, mother, why do 
 you ask ?" 
 
 " Because you do not talk to me as 
 usual." 
 
 " I was thinking, mother."
 
 80 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 " And pray what were you thinking of, 
 Charles?" 
 
 " Something that I cannot understand," 
 said he, looking wistfully. 
 
 " Well, tell me what; perhaps I can 
 explain it to you." 
 
 "Oh, I am sure you can ; but indeed lam 
 sadly puzzled : why is it that 1 am called 
 Charles Pvlelville, when my father's name 
 is JNIr. Angus? John Chalmers, Isabella 
 Grant, and all the children that I know, 
 have the same name as their fathers ; how 
 is it that mine is different?" 
 
 Although JNIrs. Angus might have anti- 
 cipated this question, or one of a similar 
 tendency, before this time, yet she had 
 never done so ; perhaps the very uncom- 
 mon affection that she entertained for 
 Charles, and the happiness that she felt, 
 prevented it from occurring to her mind; 
 for in considering him as her son, she 
 had almost ceased to think of the circum- 
 stances which introduced them to each 
 other. The question was unexpected at
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 81 
 
 present, and she had no answer prepared. 
 However, finding the necessity that there 
 was for a reply, she determined upon ad- 
 hering to her invariable practice of speak- 
 ing the truth, and therefore replied — " My 
 dear Charles, Mr. Angus is not your fa- 
 ther." 
 
 " Mr. Angus not my father ! but — but 
 you are my mother?" and his eyes ex- 
 pressed both hope and fear, with the most 
 tender sensibility. 
 
 Mrs. Angus was now under still greater 
 embarrassment, and she replied — " My 
 dear Charles, have I not always been a 
 mother to you ?" 
 
 " Oh yes — yes ! you have always." 
 
 " Well then, be assured that I will ever 
 continue to be so." 
 
 This did not seem exactly the reply that 
 our little hero wished ; his eyes filled with 
 tears, and looking wistfully in her face, he 
 cried — " But oh, say that you are indeed 
 my mother !" 
 
 Ellen was now sadly distressed, and tak- 
 E 3
 
 82 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 ing his hand, said in the most tender ac- 
 cents — " My ever dear Charles, I am not 
 your mother; but while I live, you shall 
 never want one." 
 
 Charles now dropped upon his knees, 
 clasping his little arms around those of 
 Ellen, and sobbing bitterly, cried — " Oh, 
 I have no mother ! no father ! little Charles 
 is nobody's child — but you must — you 
 shall be my mother — I will not leave you !" 
 
 Ellen, in great agitation, took him 
 in her arms, kissing him and saying — 
 " Yes, my dear, sweet boy, I will always 
 be your mother, and you shall not leave 
 me !" 
 
 This seemed to sooth him a little ; but, 
 soon after, he sighed deeply, and said — 
 " But who are my other father and mo- 
 ther? Will they like little Charles as much 
 as you do ? — or, are they dead ? — ay, it 
 must be so! otherwise they would not 
 have parted with Charles." 
 
 Mrs. Angus conceived that it was bet- 
 ter, for the present, to encourage that idea 
 in his mind, than to enter upon a detail.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 83 
 
 with its necessary explanations, which she 
 considered premature, and which could 
 not fail of producing much unnecessary 
 pain to the sensitive mind and keen feel- 
 ings of her protege ; she therefore replied 
 — " Yes, my dear boy, your parents are 
 dead ; but it has been the study of Mr. 
 Angus and me that you should never feel 
 the loss; and I now beg to assure you 
 that we love you as fondly as ever parents 
 loved a child, and that you shall still con- 
 tinue to be considered our son." 
 
 " And will you still allow me to call 
 you mother?" cried he, eagerly. 
 
 " Most assuredly ! I should think you 
 wanting in love to me were you not to 
 do so; and I not only hope, but earnestly 
 request, that you will also continue to call 
 Mr. Angus your father," said Ellen, 
 
 " Thank you, my dear, my kind mo- 
 ther ! — but now, tell me who were my 
 parents," cried Charles, with tender solici- 
 tude. 
 
 Here Ellen burst into tears, called forth 
 by the mingled associations of the child's
 
 84 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 endearing attachment to her and the mys- 
 tery of his birth ; she therefore replied — 
 " Dear Charles, the subject distresses me — 
 I am unable to answer you at present — I 
 will tell you at another time, when I am 
 in better spirits." 
 
 " Well, my dear mother, I must wait ; 
 but I can trust that they have been good, 
 since you cry for them," and the little fel- 
 low also wept. 
 
 This artless observation only added to 
 the distress of Ellen, whose tears now 
 flowed abundantly. 
 
 " Oh, mother, do not cry !" said Charles; 
 " I am indeed very angry with myself for 
 having grieved you — pray forgive me." 
 
 Ellen pressed him to her breast, her 
 tears dropping upon his ruddy cheek, 
 while his flowed copiously on her bosom.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 85 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 — i A wandering beggar's boy: 
 
 Ai best no more, even if lie breaks the truth ! 
 
 Home. 
 
 Youthful Exercises, and earlj/ Sorrows. 
 
 In the evening Ellen informed her hus- 
 band of the conversation that had taken 
 place between her and Charles : the calm 
 and even tenor of David's mind was a lit- 
 tle shaken, by the relation of the sensibi- 
 lity and filial attachment which this inte- 
 resting child had evinced. He approved 
 of the pledge that Ellen had given of their 
 future protection, declaring, that the boy 
 was becoming dearer to him every day.— 
 " But, my dear Ellen," said he, " we must 
 now think about some plan for the boy's 
 education. Our parish school is far dis- 
 tant, and perhaps he could be placed where
 
 86 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 he would make a greater progress : do 
 you think that your sister, Mrs. Charters, 
 would take him as a boarder? If she 
 would consent, he might be sent to Shut- 
 tledale without delay." 
 
 " The very plan, dear David, which I 
 wished to submit for your approbation. 
 I am not certain of obtaining my sister's 
 consent, although I think neither she nor 
 Mr. Charters will refuse to oblige us ; but 
 the thing shall be determined — you go to 
 town to-morrow ; I will accompany you, 
 and we will make the proposal ; you know 
 I have at least as much influence with 
 Mr. Charters as you have with my sister." 
 
 The consent of these friends was ob- 
 tained ; although they dropped some hints, 
 that it was rather an excess of benevolence 
 to be at so much expence with a found- 
 ling, who would have ample justice done 
 him in being bred to earn his bread at the 
 plough, or any other honest occupation. 
 
 " So he still may; but he will not be 
 the worse for a little education," said Mr. 
 Angus.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 87 
 
 Ellen felt pleased with these hints from 
 her sister, knowing that they would con- 
 firm her husband's intentions. 
 
 They now waited upon Mr. Ecclesfield, 
 the schoolmaster, giving what was con- 
 ceived the necessary directions for the boy's 
 education. 
 
 This arrangement was communicated 
 to Charles, who at first interpreted it into 
 a scheme for dismissing him from what he 
 conceived his paternal home ; and he be- 
 gan to look very sorrowfully ; but they 
 succeeded in convincing him that it was 
 for his interest ; and confirmed the assu- 
 rance, that Glenthorn was always to be 
 considered as his home ; for that during 
 his stay at school, he was to come there on 
 Saturday afternoon, and return to Shut- 
 tledale on JNIonday morning; and that 
 when he had finished his education, he 
 should reside with them till he entered 
 upon the plan of life which he intended to 
 follow. This quite reconciled him to the 
 change : he did indeed shed tears, but 
 they were those of gratitude — the honesty
 
 88 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 artless tribute of a tender and feeling heart 
 towards his benefactors. 
 
 On the Monday following, Charles was 
 introduced at school; but he seemed to 
 view the rigid features of its governor 
 with no pleasant sensation. Mr. Eccles* 
 field was respectable in his profession ; a 
 good classical scholar, and unremitting in 
 the discharge of his duty ; but — " A man 
 severe he was, and stern to view." In a 
 word, he was a strict disciplinarian ; some 
 thought him rather too much so : he had 
 laid it down as a regulating maxim, that 
 idleness could be threshed out, and appli- 
 cation beaten in — the fire of genius being 
 also kindled during the operation, as some 
 chemical substances are ignited by percus- 
 sion. His saturnine countenance and mo- 
 rose aspect, while they rendered the appli- 
 cation of the ferula less frequent, clothed 
 the suspended instrument with additional 
 terrors. He ruled with un relaxed autho* 
 rity, and never lost a jot of his dignity or 
 prerogative, by unbending his brows, or 
 slacking his muscles into playful good hu-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 89 
 
 mour ; he was dreaded by the young, and 
 hated by the dolt and the idler ; but by 
 those who were grown up, whom nature 
 had blessed with intellect, and who anx- 
 iously prosecuted their studies, he was 
 highly respected ; for pupils of this class 
 were certain of gaining his esteem — per- 
 haps his friendship ; and he felt a laudable 
 pride and sincere pleasure in pushing such 
 forward in their path. 
 
 This was a new world to Charles. At 
 Glenthorn he had no associates of his own 
 age and rank ; accustomed only to the 
 fondness of Ellen, and the gentle kind- 
 nesses of her husband, with the occasional 
 intercourse of such as happened to visit 
 there, he knew not what it was to be con- 
 tradicted; and was entirely unacquainted 
 with the boisterous sports and athletic ex- 
 ercises common to boys of his age, who 
 are accustomed to mingle together at a 
 public school, or in the streets of a popu- 
 lous town. With gentleness of manner 
 and sweetness of temper, he possessed 
 much innate dignity of mind; but at
 
 90 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 Glenthorn nothing could occur to hurt his 
 feelings, or ruffle his temper. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Angus were respected 
 and beloved by their servants and depen- 
 dents ; in consequence of which, Charles 
 w^as treated with much deference, both 
 upon his own account, and that of the fa- 
 mily where it was obvious he was a fa- 
 vourite and only child. The cottagers' 
 children had been taught to pay the most 
 submissive obedience to all his wishes ; 
 for next to poverty and distress, the rea- 
 diest and most certain access to the heart 
 of Ellen was by kindness and respect to 
 her protege. 
 
 From being trained in these early ha- 
 bits, it is obvious that if Charles had not 
 possessed an excellent natural disposition, 
 he would have soon become a petulant, 
 spoiled child. He was now placed in a 
 very different situation; obliged to con- 
 form to the methodical regulations of a 
 public seminary, where order and obedi- 
 ence were enforced by the mandates of a 
 rigorous taskmaster ; mingling in a socie-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 91 
 
 ty formed from the heterogeneous mass of 
 all the different ranks to be found in a 
 thriving commercial town, from the son 
 of the wealthy and purse-proud merchant, 
 rendered still prouder by civic honours 
 and municipal dignity, to that of the rus- 
 tic and vulgar day labourer, Charles had 
 much to learn, and for a time not a little 
 to endure. Proud, but not vain, he had 
 no wish to command ; but knew not what 
 it was to obey those of his own age: w^ith- 
 out being prone to quarrel, he was jealous 
 of his honour, and ready to resent the 
 slightest insult, either real or imaginary ; 
 hence the difficulties with which he was 
 surrounded may easily be conceived. 
 
 During the first week, he kept aloof 
 from almost all his companions ; their mirth 
 was too boisterous, and their sports too 
 wild, for him to mingle in either. This 
 shyness, arising from the delicacy of his 
 feelings, was by his fellows mistaken for 
 effeminacy and cowardice ; and they began 
 to treat him with contempt. 
 
 Charles felt his situation disagreeable ;
 
 92 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOHN. 
 
 but seeing every one around him willing 
 to be happy, he insensibly conformed to 
 the habits of his companions, and could 
 bear a joke without taking offence, wres- 
 tle a fall in good nature, or attempt to 
 leap over a ditch without fear of soiling 
 his coat. Being tall and stout made, he 
 was generally reckoned at least two years 
 older than he really was, and by daily ex- 
 ercise, he soon discovered that he possessed 
 agility and bodily strength, of which he 
 was before unconscious ; and by the tenth 
 year of his age, would have encountered 
 with confidence, and defeated with ease, 
 most boys of thirteen. The powers of his 
 mind were not inferior to those of his bo- 
 dy, and Mr. Ecclesfield saw their progress 
 with much satisfaction. He had quick 
 perceptions, and a retentive memory ; and 
 although yet incapable of appreciating 
 education according to its due value, his 
 naturally proud spirit afforded a sufHcient 
 stimulus to keep him at the head of his 
 class. By and by his studies became less 
 of a task; he reaid Caesar with avidity, for
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 93 
 
 the pleasure he found in the perusal ; and 
 during the winter evenings regaled him- 
 self with Echard's Roman History, which 
 he found in Mr. Charters's library, and read 
 with delight the history of that nation 
 which had produced a Caesar. Ovid he 
 disliked — " Because," said he, " his rela- 
 tions cannot be true." But the ^Eneid 
 again delighted him, and his versions of 
 that epic were, by Mr. Ecclesfield, pro- 
 nounced to possess a fidelity to the text, 
 and felicitous vigour of expression, which 
 none in the class could equal. 
 
 With these acquirements, Charles was 
 not a bookworm : in fine weather, when 
 at large from school, he was scarcely ever 
 within doors ; leaping, running, and swim- 
 ming, were all favourite amusements, by 
 which he had accustomed himself to bear 
 fatigue of body, and the vicissitudes of 
 the weather, without inconvenience. 
 
 Although generally liked at school, 
 there were a few who could not brook 
 what they termed his haughty indepen- 
 dence ; these were the sons of those who
 
 94 rOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 ranked high in wealth or office in Shuttle- 
 dale, and who claimed obsequious respect 
 and implicit submission from their com- 
 panions. This deference Charles not only 
 refused to pay, but resisted, both by his 
 counsel and the prowess of his arm, when 
 necessary — often encouraging and protect- 
 ing the weak and despised plebeian against 
 this aristocratical usurpation. 
 
 Among those on whom this petty ty- 
 ranny was exercised, with most unsparing 
 hand, was Daniel Norval, better known 
 at school by the appellation of Curley ; his 
 father was a poor fisherman, and occasion- 
 al pilot at the harbour of Shuttledale. Da- 
 niel was a soft, thoughtless, good-natured 
 lad ; rather obtuse of intellect, much more 
 attached to his sport than his book, with 
 a peculiar propensity for seasoning his dis- 
 course, or winding up his arguments with 
 the proverbs of his country ; and he seem- 
 ed to have an inexhaustible fund of these 
 old saws, which were ready on all occa- 
 sions. From his make, one would have 
 supposed him possessed of great muscular
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN, 95 
 
 strength ; but he was docile and harmless 
 as a lamb : his apparel was generally rag- 
 ged, and his hair matted like a shock dog ; 
 he was at least two years older than our 
 liero ; but from the peculiarities now men- 
 tioned, was the common butt of the school. 
 Those who were fond of drollery played 
 off their waggish tricks upon Curley, while 
 the splenetic and ill-natured vented their 
 wrath upon him with impunity : if a deed 
 was done, either wantonly or by accident, 
 which the perpetrator found it his interest 
 or inclination to deny, the blame was uni- 
 formly laid upon Curley ; and as his 
 thoughtless disposition often led him into 
 scrapes, the charges against him were not 
 very accurately scrutinized; hence he was 
 often corrected by the master, and beaten 
 by his companions, for offences which he 
 never committed; and the patience with 
 which his inoffensive and easy temper 
 made him submit to all this, only served 
 to render his persecutions more frequent 
 and intolerable. 
 
 Charles had long observed this with in-
 
 96 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 dignant feelings, and had several times 
 interfered in behalf of the oppressed sim- 
 pleton ; the consequence of which liad 
 been, that he drew quarrels upon himself; 
 but this had one good effect ; it taught 
 him the art of self-defence ; and at four- 
 teen years of age, although he wanted pu- 
 gilistic science, he displayed bottom which 
 would not have discrraced Belcher or 
 Mendoza. He now avowed himself the 
 champion of the weak and oppressed, par- 
 ticularly of Dan Norval ; and finding that 
 the nickname of Curley was obnoxious to 
 the ears of the poor fellow, he spirited him 
 up to resent it on all occasions where he 
 was able; and when his own prowess was 
 insufficient, Charles offered his assistance, 
 either as a principal or an auxiliary. En- 
 couraged by so powerful an ally, Dan gra- 
 dually exhibited a spirit and activity which 
 it was not believed that he had possessed; 
 and in a few montlis the offensive sound 
 of Curley was only to be heard from the 
 rtiouths of two or three overbearing bul- 
 lies, whose superior strength enabled them
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 97 
 
 to set the united prowess of Dan and his 
 champion at defiance. 
 
 Charles had become an excellent swim- 
 mer, but had no skill in managing a boat ; 
 for his farthest nautical excursion had been 
 that of paddling round the harbour in a 
 yawl, which was managed by him and a 
 companion alternately. Anxious to ex- 
 tend his marine rambles, he made interest 
 with Dan, ibr his father's leave to accom- 
 pany him when he went a-fishing in the 
 morning. 
 
 " Bless your heart !" replied Dan, " I 
 needna speer father's leave about that; I 
 gang wi' him ilka day, an' I'll tak' you 
 any mornin' you like. It's fine weather 
 for't just now ; but you'll need to rise 
 soon — it will gi'e you a langcraiget morn- 
 in'; but you'll tak' your parritch a' the 
 better whan you come in ; I'm ay/as hun- 
 gry as a hawk, an' cud eat whin stanes 
 by the time that we land, an' scaff up a 
 cogue fu' o' brose just in nae time. It 
 will do you muckle good, Charles ; huiu 
 ger'sfine sauce" 
 
 VOL. L F
 
 98 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 Next morning was fixed upon for Charles 
 making his debut: afraid that he would 
 be too late, he was at the pier before Dan 
 and his father appeared. The fisherman 
 and his son arrived, and rowed out to 
 about three miles distance. In this kind 
 of fishing it is the practice to set their 
 lines on the preceding night, and draw, or 
 as they term it, hawl them next morning, 
 w^hich occupies a considerable time. 
 
 They had reached their lines ; a breeze 
 sprung up, and the tide was flowing in a 
 contrary direction; the motion of their 
 light skiff was now violent, unsteady, and 
 such as Charles had never experienced; 
 he was therefore incapable of paying much 
 attention to the operations, and soon be- 
 came very sick. Dan comforted him with 
 the hope of better luck next voyage, say- 
 ing — " Never mind this squall, Charles; 
 ye ken we maunna cast awa' the cogue 
 when the cow Jlings'' The lines were 
 hauled ; the breeze continued ; a sail was 
 set ; they scudded across the waves, and 
 Charles was set on terra Jimia, with a sick
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 99 
 
 heart, and a wet jacket. — " Od, I'm think- 
 in* ye'll no fish ony the morn, billie !" said 
 Dan's father. 
 
 Charles slunk away, ashamed of his 
 weakness, which he was determined to 
 overcome by perseverance. The fisher- 
 man was surprised to find him in waiting 
 next morning, which was very fine, and 
 the sea calm : the pleasure he experienced 
 made ample amends for his previous suf- 
 fering, and induced him to continue this 
 morning exercise, until he became so in- 
 timate with his nautical friends, that they 
 were as solicitous to instruct him, as he 
 was anxious to learn ; and by the end of 
 the season, he could row, steer, or set a sail, 
 with confidence and safety. 
 
 From this intercourse, Dan had in some 
 degree begun to think of Charles as a com- 
 panion : he had long considered him as a 
 protecting friend ; but then he looked up 
 to him with submissive deference, which, 
 from Dan's feeling, prevented every ap- 
 proach to intimacy. Now, their associa- 
 F 2
 
 100 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 tion upon an element where diaries was 
 at first timid and awkward, had removed 
 the distance between them ; and Dan, 
 without respecting Charles less, had begun 
 to think more highly of himself: but the 
 time approached when they were likely to 
 be separated; for Dan's father spoke of 
 sending him to sea. 
 
 Among those schoolfellows whose good- 
 will Charles had never been able to ac- 
 quire, but whose threats and petty resent- 
 ments he had learned to despise, the prin- 
 cipal w^as Edward Fergus, son and heir to 
 the laird of Dubby Moss, a small estate 
 in the neighbourhood of Glenthorn. Fer- 
 gus was proud, petulant, and overbearing 
 — a bully and a coward — rude and vulgar 
 in his manners, but impressed with the 
 •idea that birth and a fine coat constituted 
 a gentleman. The family mansion of this 
 young hopeful was an ancient, structure, 
 in a most romantic situation, and was of- 
 ten admired as a line feature in the land- 
 scape and surrounding scenery. One day, 
 a poor orphan boy, who lived with his
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 101 
 
 grandmother, brought to school some 
 drawings, principally perspective views, 
 which he had sketched during the autum- 
 nal vacation (having a natural turn that 
 way) ; among several others was a view 
 of Dubby Moss, executed with a justness 
 and correctness of keeping which did cre- 
 dit to the taste and genius of the humble 
 artist. It was shewn about, and admired, 
 while the poor little fellow's heart bounded 
 with the applauses bestowed on his per- 
 formance. At the midday interval, some 
 of the boys proposed that the rustic paint- 
 er's drawings should be sold by auction ; 
 and having obtained his consent, they be- 
 gan with the view of Dubby Moss : it 
 was put up at a penny, and soon rose to 
 a shilling : the heart of the humble artist 
 leaped with joy, and he exclaimed — " Oh 
 I will now be able to buy a loaf for my 
 granny's Yule dinner!" 
 
 The mimic auctioneer now called — 
 Once — twice — the Castle of Dubby 
 Moss going for one shilling ! Where is 
 
 u
 
 102 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 the young laird ? will he not give more 
 than a shilHng for his father's castle?" 
 
 " He would give a guinea," said one, 
 "if you would hang his father over the 
 bartizan, that he nriight come into posses- 
 sion." 
 
 " Let him alone," cried he who had of- 
 fered the shilHng; " he has no shillings to 
 spare upon triHes of that kind ; he likes 
 gingerbread better. Knock it down to 
 me — I am determined to be laird of Dub- 
 by Moss !" 
 
 These gibes, according to our national 
 proverb, pressed hard upon the young 
 laird's sair heel, and calling from the fire- 
 side, where he was seated, he requested a 
 sight of the drawing. It was handed to 
 him, when, spreading it on his knee, he 
 rubbed it over with his hand, previously 
 covered with soot, and the drawing was 
 entirely defaced. — " Shame ! shame !" cried 
 twenty voices ; and the poor painter burst 
 into tears. 
 
 Cliarles reddened with indignation, and 
 walking up to Fergus, said — " You are
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 103 
 
 a silly, mean-spirited, cowardly fellow, to 
 punish the poor boy for the jokes of his 
 companions ; however, I insist that you 
 immediately pay him what was offered for 
 the drawing." 
 
 *' ril not ])ay him a farthing — impudent 
 brat ! he had no right to take drawings of 
 Dubby Moss," cried Fergus, indignantly. 
 
 " Tlien, sir, you are a rascal !" cried 
 Charles. 
 
 Fergus started to his feet, exclaiming 
 — " A coward, and a rascal ! I will prove 
 that I am no coward, by paying you for 
 the rascal !" and he instantly struck Charles 
 a blow in the face. It was returned with 
 interest, and a regular set-to commenced, 
 in which Fergus could never make a 
 stroke tell upon Charles; and in a few 
 minutes resigned the contest, with his 
 daylights darkened, according to the slang 
 of the profession. 
 
 The rest of the boy's drawings were 
 soon sold ; for every one was anxious to 
 shew his sympathy, and also to evince his 
 contempt for the conduct exhibited by
 
 104 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 Ned Fergus. The boy now danced and 
 whistled, saying, that he would now get 
 a pair of new shoes, and granny's loaf too. 
 
 This fracas took place on the day before 
 the Christmas vacation, so that Ned went 
 home to his doting parents with a pair of 
 blue eyes; and it was only by the aid of 
 venesection and fomentations that he was 
 fit to appear in public when the school 
 was re-opened. 
 
 On the first day of their assembling, 
 when dismissed at noon, our hero went 
 home for something that he wanted. The 
 day was fine, and the noisy troop were 
 pursuing their gambols, in the area in 
 front of the school : Fergus began some 
 of his bullying phrases, when he was told 
 to wait till Charles Melville returned, who 
 was more than a match for him, either 
 with tongue or hands. 
 
 " Charles Melville !" cried he, in a tone 
 of the most indignant contempt that he 
 could express ; " he is unworthy of my 
 further notice, or that of any present, and 
 ought to be known for what he isl"
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 105 
 
 " What is he?" resounded on all sides 
 — " ay, what is fle, sir ?" cried Dan Norval, 
 walking boldly up to him. 
 
 "A foundling! or at best a beggar's 
 brat! the bastard of a soldier's trollop, who 
 got a night's lodging in the barn at Glen- 
 thorn, and left this fine gentleman among 
 the straw in the morning !" and the eyes 
 of Ned Fergus glistened with triumph as 
 he concluded the tale. 
 
 " I'll no say you're lyin'," cried Dan 
 Norval ; " but if I kent ony word that 
 meant mair than the king o' liars, I mak' 
 you sure ye sudna be lang o' hearin't; 
 but your word's worth naething against 
 Charles Melville ; for a dog's tongue's nae 
 scandal.'' 
 
 The apparent coolness of Dan, the ap- 
 plause that his speech received, and the 
 bitter retort that his language conveyed, 
 irritated Fergus, who, perhaps anxious to 
 recover the dignity that he had lost in the 
 rencontre with Charles, and presuming 
 upon the soft temper of Dan, who had 
 f3
 
 106 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 never been known to lift his hand in 
 wrath, he put on an air of affected indif- 
 ference, while his heart was swelhng with 
 rage ; and tweaking Dan's nose, said, with 
 apparent coolness — " Were you my equal, 
 I would fight you; but I will not foul my 
 fingers on such a dirty being!" and he 
 wiped them, as if they had been contami- 
 nated. 
 
 " Od I'm no sae nice !" cried Dan ; " I'll 
 lat you see that I can grip a brock by the 
 gills!" So saying he seized Fergus by 
 the throat, fetching him a stroke in the 
 chops, which made his eyes water; then 
 loosing his hold, said — " Now, if you are 
 a man. 111 fight you fairly." 
 
 A ring was instantly formed, shouts 
 w ere raised, and " fair play !" repeated all 
 around : they knew that Fergus, like most 
 bullies, was a craven ; and they were anx- 
 ious to witness Dan's first essay in boxing. 
 The blood, which was flowing copiously 
 from the young laird, exasperated his 
 fury still further; and believing that he 
 should have an easy conquest of Dan, he
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 107 
 
 set to work with more fire than prudence. 
 Dan had sterhng courage, but was quite 
 unpractised in the art of boxing : several 
 hard blows were dealt on both sides, and 
 much blood was spilt : it was obvious that 
 Dan would ultimately be conqueror, and 
 he was cheered all round the ring. Ned 
 at last gave in ; but his opponent insisted 
 that he should retract what he had said of 
 Charles, or, in Dan's expressive language, 
 " eat in his ain words again." This, how- 
 ever, he refused to do, still insisting that 
 it was true. Dan then demanded his au- 
 thority, as the only condition upon which 
 he would terminate the contest. This the 
 magnanimous laird also refusing, received 
 a cross-buttock, which made him reel : 
 feelingly convinced that he had enough, he 
 staggered to the extremity of the ring, 
 and with quivering lips said — " My mo- 
 ther told me." 
 
 The circle was broken, and Fergus, 
 alone and unattended, slunk away, like a 
 badger to his hole. Dan was surrounded 
 by his companions, cheering and assisting
 
 108 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 him. Charles arrived just as one brought 
 a bason of water and a towel : alarmed at 
 seeing his friend in such plight, he eagerly- 
 inquired into the cause, and was told that 
 Dan had defeated Dubby Moss in a box- 
 ing-match ; but upon requesting to know 
 the grounds of the quarrel, no one appear- 
 ed inclined to afford him any information. 
 He was equally unsuccessful with Dan, 
 who replied — "Tut! dinna fash me ; he's 
 a blethrin' gowk, an' bullies a' body." 
 
 From the evasion of Dan, and the ob- 
 stinate silence of his companions, Charles 
 saw that there was something which all 
 wished to conceal ; and from his own re- 
 cent quarrel with Fergus, and the known 
 friendship of Dan, he shrewdly suspected 
 that it some way concerned himself Dan 
 was again questioned, but cut the matter 
 short by saying — " Losh, Charles, I won- 
 der what gars you fash your head about 
 twa fools; just lat slcepin' dogs be; the 
 thiiig that doesna lie in your road winna 
 hrak your taes ; sae dinna deave me ony 
 mair about it."
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 109 
 
 Charles was now confirmed in his suspi- 
 cions, and resolved, whatever pains it 
 might cost, to discover what was so care- 
 fully concealed. On their way home he 
 inquired of several boys, even offered 
 bribes, but nothing could prevail. Prof- 
 fered favour and threatened enmity were 
 next day equally ineffectual ; and he had 
 begun to despair of making the discovery, 
 concerning which their secrecy only ren- 
 dered him more anxious, when returning 
 home in the evening, still brooding on 
 what had fixed itself so deeply in his 
 mind, a girl, who had on former occasions 
 shown a liking for his company, led him 
 into conversation ; and then said, that if 
 he would promise not to be angry, she 
 would tell him the cause of Fergus and 
 Dan's quarrel. " You are a kind girl, 
 Eliza — I will not be angry, and you will 
 much oblige me," replied Charles. 
 
 " Oh Charles, but you do not know whe- 
 ther you will be angry or not, till you hear 
 it ; but still I think it right to tell you, al- 
 though none of us believes it."
 
 110 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 This only served to whet his curiosity ; 
 and begging her to proceed, the girl told 
 him all that Fergus had said, and nearly 
 in his own words ; and concluded by the 
 spirited conduct of Dan, assuring him that 
 she had no wish to hurt his feelings, for 
 that no one in the school believed Fergus, 
 although he had said that his mother was 
 the authority upon which he spoke. They 
 were now at Mr. Charters's door. — "Thank 
 you, Eliza," said Charles, and rushed into 
 the house. 
 
 It would be impossible to describe the 
 feelings of Charles upon receiving this in- 
 formation; the conversation that he liad 
 once held with Mrs. Angus had often re- 
 curred to him, and often had he wished 
 to obtain the information she had then 
 promised him ; but so highly did he re- 
 spect her, and so reluctant was he to give 
 pain, that he suppressed his own eager 
 curiosity out of delicacy to her feelings ; 
 but it now rushed upon his mind with 
 irresistible violence ; her grief on tliat oc- 
 casion, her declining to tell bim aught
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. Ill 
 
 about his parents, all seemed to confirm 
 the dreadful tale. He shut himself up in 
 his room, saying he was indisposed; re- 
 fused to come down to supper ; but con- 
 tinued to ruminate upon his mysterious 
 history, firmly believing all that had been 
 so maliciously told by Ned Fergus. 
 
 Fortunately, next day was Saturday, 
 which afforded him the satisfaction that 
 he should soon be informed of the whole; 
 for he had firmly resolved not to leave 
 Mrs. Angus till she told him all that she 
 knew concerninf]^ his birth. Tliat night 
 sleep was a stranger to his eyes, but his 
 pillow was wetted with his tears. " Oh !" 
 cried he, " I am worse than an orphan — 
 I am the child of poverty — perhaps of 
 guilt and shame. I am like a shrub, sprung 
 up by chance in the desert wild — it stands 
 alone to bud, blossom, and die unregard- 
 ed : I have no country, no parents ; I am 
 an outcast among the works of creation, 
 rejected and forsaken by those who gave 
 me being ! In sickness or in sorrow, none
 
 112 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 will participate in my griefs. Should I 
 be buffeted by the world, no blood will 
 boil for my wrongs ; and should fortune 
 smile, no bosom will heave with delight, 
 no man claim affinity with me. When I 
 die, my remains shall sleep alone ; deserted 
 even in the grave, no kindred dust will 
 mingle with mine! Oh, cruel parents! 
 hard-hearted father ! unfeeling mother ! 
 why did you not stifle me in the cradle, 
 rather than leave me to be an object of 
 contempt, and my name a by-word among 
 my fellows? but I have no name — that 
 which I bear has been given me either by 
 chance or from charity, and I am the mi- 
 serable object of another's bounty, to which 
 I have no claim, and which is continued 
 to me not from ties of affection, but from 
 motives of pity. And am I already an 
 object of pity? Oh, cruel, inhuman mo- 
 ther ! But I am perhaps too rash — what 
 do I yet know of my mother ? she must 
 have been a woman, and being so, she 
 could not have less tenderness than the
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 113 
 
 wild beasts of the forest : she must have 
 been deserted, left to want, perhaps to 
 infamy. 
 
 " Degradation and shame must have, for 
 a moment, deprived her of reason and ma- 
 ternal feeling ; and, in the agony of men- 
 tal desperation, she must have fled from 
 the presence of that child whose smiles 
 planted daggers in her soul. May she 
 not now be pining in want, neglected, or 
 despised by the world, mourning over her 
 early errors, and deploring the loss of him 
 whom she is ashamed to meet? But I 
 will seek her — wander in unremitting 
 search till she is found, and work, or beg 
 for her wants, rather than leave her to 
 perish !" 
 
 Sucli were the reflections of Charles 
 during this tedious night: when he arose 
 from his sleepless couch, his eyes were red, 
 and his brow deeply clouded ; he pleaded 
 a cold, and resolved upon staying from 
 school, determined not to meet his compa- 
 nions till he knew the truth or falsehood
 
 114 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 of that tale which had so harrowed up his 
 feelings. 
 
 Upon arriving at Glenthorn in the even- 
 ing, he was met by Mrs. Angus, who, as 
 usual, took his hand ; he carried hers has- 
 tily to his lips, and averting his face in 
 spite of his predetermined fortitude, burst 
 into tears. 
 
 Ellen, much alarmed, cried — " Dear 
 Charles, what is the matter — what has 
 happened ?" 
 
 It was a considerable time before he 
 could acquire sufficient composure to 
 speak the " grief which sat so heavy on 
 his heart," and he was just finishing the 
 painful tale when Mr. Angus came in. 
 
 They both saw the agony of his mind, 
 and were convinced that a candid and ex- 
 plicit disclosure of all that they knew, or 
 considered probable concerning his birth, 
 would be the best and most efficient leni- 
 tive that they could administer. The out- 
 line of the circumstances already narrated, 
 were therefore related to him : the watch
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. Il5 
 
 and trinkets were put into his hands, also 
 the receipt for the money in the bank, 
 which Mr. Angus had, with much pru- 
 dence and fidelity, entered in his own 
 name as trustee for some person unknown, 
 but which he had afterwards entered in the 
 name of Charles Melville ; to this they 
 requested his particular attention, that he 
 might be convinced of not being supported 
 by their charity. 
 
 Both, but especially Ellen, expressed 
 their conviction that his parents would 
 yet be found ; and as it was impossible to 
 say how trivial a circumstance might lead 
 to the discovery, they insisted that he 
 should now continue to carry the watch, 
 preserving the chain and seals in statu quo. 
 
 Deep was the agitation of Charles, at 
 what was now related ; but it was now no 
 longer of himself that he thought ; his 
 mother occupied every feeling; and the 
 most tender and consoling efforts of his 
 friends could not tranquillize his mind 
 during the evening. Great part of the 
 night was again passed in a state of rest-
 
 116 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 less anxiety; but, at last, exhausted nature 
 sunk asleep ; still, his slumbers were bro- 
 ken and perturbed — indistinct and un- 
 known images floated before him ; he wan- 
 dered in desolate wilds and trackless de- 
 serts, in pursuit of phantoms and fleeting 
 shadows, that faded from his eager grasp 
 as he vainly attempted to stay their flight; 
 and he awoke in the morning with his 
 head confused and his senses bewildered, 
 in contemplating the strange and evanes- 
 cent pictures of imagination. 
 
 Having exhausted conjecture concern- 
 ing his parents, his thoughts, at last, re- 
 verted to himself; and he felt his mind, in 
 some degree, relieved by the information 
 that he had received, as it was considerably 
 different from the ill-natured representa- 
 tion of Ned Fergus ; while ruminating 
 upon this, it also occurred, from the trink- 
 ets which he had seen, that his parents 
 were probably of respectable rank in life; 
 and he could not refrain from mentally 
 saying — " No, I am not a beggar's brat !'* 
 and concluding with an earnest and devout
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 117 
 
 aspiration, that Heaven would enable him 
 to discover his parents. 
 
 Upon returning to school, he felt the 
 necessity of disguising the restless anxiety 
 which occupied his mind ; for, were he to 
 appear dejected, it would be a confirmation 
 of the malicious tale told by his enemy ; 
 and as he now felt more than ever inclin- 
 ed to render himself distinguished, he was 
 not disposed to relinquish a jot of the re- 
 spect which he had hitherto claimed, or 
 allow himself, in the slightest degree, to 
 sink in society. 
 
 More jealous of his honour than he had 
 ever before been, his mind was now more 
 susceptible of fancied insult; the language 
 of his companions was weighed, and their 
 looks scrutinized, with a keenness that 
 wished to penetrate into their hearts ; but 
 even his morbid sensibility could find no 
 just cause of offence, for the conduct of his 
 companions seemed, in no degree, influ- 
 enced by the young laird's malignant as- 
 persion, whose respectability (never great) 
 was considerably in the wane.
 
 118 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 CHAPTER VI, 
 
 Amid the broom he basked him on the ground, 
 Where the wild thyme and camomile are found; 
 There would he linger, till the latest ray 
 Of light sat trembling on the welkin's bound; 
 Then homeward through the twilight shadows stray, 
 Sauntering and slow : so had he passed many a day : 
 Yet not in thoughtless slumber were they passed ; 
 Ten thousand great ideas filled his mind ; 
 But with the clouds tliey fled, and left no trace behind. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 The Eccentricities of Genius, 
 
 There was at that time, and for many 
 years after, a singular and eccentric cha- 
 racter in Shuttledal^, whose merits and 
 intimacy with Charles Melville entitle him 
 to a place in this history. 
 
 James Roy was the only son of a poor 
 tradesman, a widower, who having some 
 relish for reading, was not a little pleased 
 to see early indications of the same pro-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 119 
 
 pensity in his son. Persuaded that his 
 child might not only live more comforta- 
 bly, but even make a distinguished figure 
 in life by a good education, he resolved to 
 effect this, at the expence of many priva- 
 tions to himself and family. 
 
 James was accordingly sent to school at 
 an early age, where he evinced readiness of 
 perception and unwearied application; his 
 progress was of course rapid; he had acquir- 
 ed a sufficient knowledge of Latin, and was 
 just entering upon geometry, when his fa- 
 ther, involved by being security for an 
 acquaintance, became insolvent, and was 
 stripped of every thing : the blow was 
 unexpected ; but the poor man felt its se- 
 verity more upon account of his son than 
 himself, for the future fortune of James 
 formed his day-dreams in many a waking 
 hour; and it might be truly said, that 
 " for him he lived in pain." The thought 
 that his fairy prospects were blighted, had 
 such effect as to produce a fever that car- 
 ried him to the grave. This was a dread- 
 ful stroke upon James, who, in addition
 
 120 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 to the loss of a fond father, was stopped 
 short in the race where he had started with 
 such ardour; he had calculated upon en- 
 tering at the university next session, but 
 now 
 
 ** Chill penury repressed his noble rage, 
 And froze the genial current of the sou!." 
 
 This disappointment had a severe effect 
 upon the mind of the youthful scholar, 
 and doubtless had a strong influence upon 
 his future conduct; after the death of his 
 father, James found himself and a sister 
 about three years older, left in absolute 
 poverty, and his immediate removal from 
 school became unavoidable. While droop- 
 ing in sad despondency, his sister tried to 
 awaken the energies of his mind, by point- 
 ing out their indi^jence; tellino- him that 
 as they had no friends to assist them, they 
 must learn to depend upon themselves; 
 that it behoved him to think of the busi- 
 ness which he intended to follow for life : 
 she would most willingly do what little 
 she could to assist him, until the expiry 
 of his apprenticeship; but that no time
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 121 
 
 should be lost. James agreed with her in 
 the reasonableness of what she had stated, 
 and promised to take the matter into con- 
 sideration ; in the mean time, he took up 
 a book, and sat down very composedly at 
 the window ; this continued to be his daily 
 practice for a week, when his sister again 
 urged the topic, which she now found was 
 very disagreeable to her brother. Whe- 
 ther it was his attachment to literature, or 
 his aversion from labour, it is impossible to 
 say, for his subsequent conduct warranted 
 both suppositions. Other two weeks had 
 passed away, and James had still come to 
 no determination, when his sister firmly 
 told him that unless he immediately came 
 to a resolution of doing something, she 
 would resign the house into the hands 
 of the landlord, enter into service, and 
 leave him to the world at large ; but if he 
 shewed a disposition for industry, and ac- 
 quiring the knowledge of any business, 
 she would continue to keep house, which 
 would be a home to him ; and she would 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 also, accordingtothevernacular idiom of the 
 country, keep him hale and clean, as she 
 could make good wages by spinning. 
 James shook off a little of that apathy 
 which had beset him, rose up, went out, 
 and returned not till evening; when, with 
 an air of triumph, he told his sister that 
 he had fixed upon a business ; but that a 
 trifle of money was necessary at the out- 
 set. This was no great consolation, " for," 
 said she, " ye ken I've only ten shillings 
 in a' the world." 
 
 *' That will be sufficient," replied James. 
 But upon her inquiring how it was to be 
 applied, he refused all information, except 
 that she would see by Saturday night. 
 She knew that there was a reserve about 
 his temper, which, by teasing, was con- 
 firmed into obstinacy ; but she believed 
 him honourable, and not addicted to vici- 
 ous habits, and therefore gave him her lit- 
 tle hoard, although with some reluctance, 
 kindly wishing him success. 
 
 Next morning James went out after 
 breakfast, and returned in the evening
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 123 
 
 with a large parcel of old books under his 
 arm, bound together by a string. This 
 was a dreadful disappointment to his sis- 
 ter, who now believed that they would 
 occupy his attention at home for months 
 to come; however, she resolved to be silent, 
 till the procedure of next day should 
 develop his intentions. James arose next 
 morning earlier than usual, and requested 
 his sister to find him a canvas bag, which 
 being done, he proceeded to arrange the 
 books formerly in his possession, also those 
 that he had brought in on the preceding 
 evening; reserving such as he thought pro- 
 per, the rest were stowed in the bag ; he 
 snatched a hasty breakfast, and marched 
 out with the wallet carelessly slung across 
 his shoulder. When he returned in the 
 evening, the magnitude of his burden 
 seemed to be increased : next day he went 
 out as before, and continued to do so dur- 
 ing the week. On Saturday night he 
 gave his sister half-a-crown, saying, that 
 this being a broken week, and his first 
 G 2
 
 124 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 outset, he had done little; but that she 
 might expect more next week, as she was 
 now to consider him a bookseller. 
 
 On Sunday, when she asked him to ao- 
 company her to church, he told her that 
 he was to stay at home for study. Next 
 Saturday evening he gave her five shil- 
 lings, and on the subsequent one only 
 three; but upon departing on Monday 
 morning, he told her not to expect him 
 before Saturday night, when he again 
 made his appearance, paying her five shil- 
 lings. He seemed now to have laid down 
 a systematic plan for his own regulation, 
 from which he never deviated for many 
 years. 
 
 On Sunday he never stirred out of 
 doors, but continued to read the whole 
 day, when his finances enabled him to 
 pay five shiUings on the preceding Satur- 
 day ; he devoted Monday to the study of 
 mathematics and various languages, con- 
 fining liis peregrinations for the week to 
 Shultledale and its suburbs; but if he was 
 deficient in this sum, which he had allot-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 125 
 
 ted to his sister for lodging and mainte- 
 nance, he startedon Monday morning, went 
 into the country, from whence he never 
 returned before Saturday night, thus re- 
 lieving her from the expence of his living 
 till he had cleared scores. During the 
 first three months he had repaid, by in- 
 stalments, the ten shillings advanced by 
 his sister, and had also enlarged his stock 
 very considerably. 
 
 Such was the regular routine of his life, 
 till about, thirty years of age, during 
 which he had read and studied, not only 
 within doors, but also when the weather 
 permitted, under a hedge, or on the sunny 
 side of a broom-clad hillock. He was an 
 expert algebraist ; a good mathematician ; 
 was considered a Scottish Linn^us; knew 
 every country, coast, and cape, from Nova 
 Zembla to Cape Horn; could calculate 
 eclipses, and conjugate verbs in French, 
 Spanish, and Italian ; besides having such 
 a smattering of almost every modem sci- 
 ence, as enabled him to talk about it with 
 a specious fluency. As a relaxation from
 
 1 26 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 these studies, he read ancient and modern 
 history, the principal characters and events 
 of which were all at his finger-ends. He 
 could maintain a conversation upon the 
 mysticism of Plato, the abstractions of 
 Malebranche, the ideas of Locke, and the 
 nonentities of Berkley. Of poets, in ge- 
 neral, he spoke lightly, always excluding 
 Shakespeare from his censure. It was seU 
 dom that he spoke about religion, and, aU 
 though fond of disputing, would never 
 enter into a direct argument upon that 
 subject ; saying, that religious disputes had 
 created more misery in the world, and 
 been more fatal to the peace of mankind, 
 than all the ambition of all the hot-brained 
 heroes that ever existed. But of the Deity 
 and his attributes, he always spoke with the 
 most profound reverence, and could quote 
 from either the Old or New Testament 
 with facility, and much aptness of appli- 
 cation. 
 
 He was never heard to swear, nor seen 
 under the influence of anger; was never 
 known to be intoxicated; for, indeed, he
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 127 
 
 seldom tasted any beverage stronger than 
 tea ; used no tobacco in any way; avoided 
 the company of women, but was fond of 
 children. None ever heard him laugh, or 
 detected him in a falsehood. He detested 
 tale-bearing, and never listened to the 
 voice of slander, but spoke what he be- 
 lieved with fearless intrepidity. His satur- 
 nine countenance and sallow complexion 
 were sometimes distorted into a kind of 
 sardonic grin, while his dark eyes seemed 
 to penetrate the heart of him upon whom 
 they were fixed. In his trade of buying, 
 selling, and exchanging old books, he 
 despised to higgle, or deviate a single pen- 
 ny from his first offer. He lent them for 
 hire to such as were able to pay, and to 
 those who were not, gratis. By this means 
 he would often get more by lending a 
 book, than it had cost him. Acquainted 
 with the public taste, and being a judge 
 of books, he knew a saleable article, and 
 picked up many rare and scarce volumes. 
 Knowing all the elementary books used
 
 128 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 at school, the scholars often applied to him 
 for such as they wanted ; they also courted 
 his acquaintance for another purpose ; if a 
 paragraph of Virgil was difficult to construe, 
 or a problem of Euclid hard of solution, 
 James was generally able and ready to assist. 
 Charles had one evening accompanied 
 a companion in search of a book, and was 
 by this means introduced to the itinerant 
 bookseller, now aged about forty, and dis- 
 tinguished by the title of Diogenes; but 
 more generally by the appellation of the 
 Misanthrope. He was now become indo- 
 lent and slovenly in his habits; his black 
 and bushy beard was often to be seen of 
 two or three weeks growth. Many years 
 had rolled over his head since he laid out 
 a shilling for clothes, some of his acquaint- 
 ances always supplying him with such 
 cast articles as his necessities required, for 
 James never troubled himself about fa- 
 shions, and was not difficult to fit ; a coat 
 might be too little, but it could not be too 
 large; whether it dangled upon his heels*
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 129 
 
 or Strutted over his crupper, James was 
 always pleased. His head having become 
 bald, he was alternately seen in a black or 
 a brown wig, just as they came to hand. 
 It was nothing uncommon to meet him 
 abroad with one leg cased in a ribbed 
 stocking, and the other in a plain, or, very 
 probably, a pair of different colours; while 
 his bare toes peeped through his shoes, 
 which were often metamorphosed into 
 sandals before any of his friends thought 
 of furnishing him with a supply. He never 
 used gloves of any kind, and seemed in- 
 sensible not only to the variations of wea- 
 ther, but even to the wants of nature. 
 None ever heard him say, that he was 
 either cold or hungry ; he took victuals 
 when occasion served, and, when in the 
 country, slept in the kitchen covered with 
 a blanket, in the barn among good clean 
 straw, or under the shade of a broom-bush 
 canopied by the sky, just as they occurred. 
 When any one wished to see his books, if 
 the floor was dry he took his bag by the 
 G 3
 
 130 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHaKN. 
 
 comers and shook out the contents, whe- 
 ther upon earth, wood, or stone, it mat- 
 tered not. 
 
 He seldom recommended any book, ex- 
 cept those of science, or some translation 
 from the ancient philosophers, and Dods^- 
 ley's Economy of Human Life, which he 
 took every opportunity of introducing to 
 his youthful acquaintances. His mit^d 
 seemed equally invulnerable with his body; 
 for although his grotesque appearance 
 sometimes attracted children and idle boys', 
 he continued to stalk along with the sann^ 
 erect form and majestic step, while their 
 hootings and petty insults never moved a 
 muscle of his countenance. If insi^lted by 
 one of riper years, he turned away with 
 dignified contempt, scorning to reply ; al- 
 though he encouraged freedom of speech 
 in what he termed fair argument, saying, 
 that he was always willing to allow others 
 the same liberty that he claimed for him- 
 self; and whatever the rank of those who 
 condescended to converse with him, he 
 spoke with the same manly independence
 
 FOUKDLING OF GLENTHORN. 131 
 
 of mind ; for he held ^11 that wealth could 
 bestow in too little estimation, to flatter 
 any man in the expectation of favour, for 
 fortune had scarcely any thing in her 
 power capable of exciting his hopes or 
 alarming his fears. 
 
 Reading, and rational convei'sation, 
 seemed to constitute almost his sole enjoy- 
 ments; and although he never intruded 
 himself, yet he had a pleasure in protract- 
 ing an argument, while it was conducted 
 with fair reasoning and good temper. 
 
 Such was the man to whom Charles was 
 now introduced. James had a small garret- 
 room, which he termed his library; the 
 ascent was by a small ladder, which re- 
 quired to be displaced before the door 
 below could be closed or opened. James 
 and his visitors ascended to search for the 
 book wanted, and our hero was delighted 
 with the appearance which the mansion 
 exhibited. From the roof of this museum 
 were suspended plants, shrubs, stuffed 
 birds, quadrupeds, and skeletons of various 
 animals. On some deal boards hung upon
 
 132 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 the wall by strings, was a heterogeneous 
 assemblage of minerals, fossils, shells, and 
 various other marine productions ; in the 
 centre of the floor lay his books, or stock 
 in trade, in as much disorder as if they 
 had tumbled from the moon by accident. 
 On the walls were pasted maps, charts, 
 astronomical plates, and several anatomical 
 figures; while many mathematical cuts, 
 with blotted sheets of diagrams and calcu- 
 lations, lay scattered around, 
 
 The young man was supplied with the 
 book wanted, and they were about to des- 
 cend, when James calling to his sister to 
 replace the ladder, found she was gone 
 out; and there being no means of egress 
 from their airy mansion, except leaping 
 down with the risk of fracturing a limb, 
 they preferred amusing themselves till her 
 return. 
 
 Charles's companion had a taste for poe- 
 try, and observed to James that he seldom 
 found any poetical work of merit in his 
 collection, which remark produced tliefol- 
 lowing colloquy.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 133 
 
 "That which rarely exists will not of- 
 ten be met with," said James. 
 
 " Do you mean to say that good poems 
 are rare? There are certainly many a- 
 mong your acquaintances, the ancients/' 
 said the scholar. 
 
 " Name them," cried the misanthrope. 
 
 " I am scarcely qualified ; and to you 
 it were superfluous ; but every dabbler in 
 literature knows, that Homer, Lucretius, 
 Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Tibullus, Juvenal, 
 and many others, have acquired a celebri- 
 ty, which will endure as long as the lan- 
 guage in which they wrote." 
 
 " And because our ancestors have cele- 
 brated these authors, we, their sons, like 
 an echo, repeat the applause. It is easier 
 to retail the opinions of others than to 
 think for ourselves. When the mouths 
 of the many shout in approbation, few are 
 inclined to keep silence, and still fewer 
 have firmness to disapprove." 
 
 " Do you mean to apply this to the 
 poets just named?" 
 
 " Generally, with some exceptions."
 
 134 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 •* Surely you cannot condemn Homer?" 
 " No, I will not indude him in my ge- 
 neral censure ; for the fountain is always 
 preferable tx> the streams that flow from 
 it. Unable to peruse Homer in the ori- 
 ginal, my acquaintance with him is only 
 through the medium of translation ; and 
 in this process many of the original beau- 
 ties must be lost; as in decanting fine 
 essences from one bottle into another, some 
 of the rarest and most subtle parts will 
 escape by evaporation. The pharmaco- 
 peist may, as a substitute, add some odo- 
 rous tincture, to improve the smell, or 
 heighten the colour, but by this opera- 
 tion the original is adulterated ; and such, 
 I am told, has too often been the practice 
 of our great English translator of Homer, 
 concerning whom I shall only add, that I 
 prefer his Odyssey to the Iliad ; because 
 there is greater pleasure in tracing the pa- 
 tient exercise of the domestic virtues and 
 affections, than in contemplating the in- 
 dulgence of the malevolent passions — such 
 as pride, anger, and revenge, with which
 
 FOrNDLINO OP GLfeNTHO^T^. IS5 
 
 the Iliad abounds, notwithstanding its 
 ii)(aDy sublime scenes and softer beauties. 
 But you have overlooked another Greek, 
 almost contemporary vvitli Homer'— I 
 mean Hesiod, who, although inferior as a 
 poet, dainis at least equal rank as a pure 
 and original moralist." 
 
 " Well, and what say you to Virgil ?'* 
 inquired the scholar. 
 
 " That he wrote beautiful verses, in ele- 
 gant Latin, and was a most skilful and 
 delicate flatterer." 
 
 « Is that all?" 
 
 " In Ins works we have a correct picture 
 of the manners and customs of his coun- 
 try. I ftiay add, that in his ^neid, va- 
 lour seems the most conspicuous virtue of 
 his hero." 
 
 " I have been told that Lucretius, * On 
 the Nature of Things,' is a fine philosophi- 
 cal poem, but I have never read it." 
 
 "So much the better, young man ! If 
 atheism and impiety merit to be termed 
 fine philosophy, then that work is super- 
 e5(^cellent. Lucretius, sir, was an Epicu-
 
 136 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 rean, and his work degrades man to a kr 
 vel with other animals : his fourth book 
 is obscm*ity itself, without possessing the 
 specious varnish of delicate language." 
 
 " You are very severe in your criticisms 
 to-night : what do you say of the courtly 
 and classical Horace ?" 
 
 " Young man, I am not more censo- 
 rious just now, than upon other occasions, 
 if called upon to give my opinion. Would 
 you have me immolate truth as a sacri- 
 fice to the manes of those whom a giddy 
 and unthinking world idolize? A\-ith 
 respect to Horace, I will allow him both 
 the epithets with which you have invested 
 him, and enough for censure will still re- 
 main. He also was an Epicurean, and 
 propagated the doctrine both by precept 
 and example. He participated in all the 
 pleasures of a licentious court, which he 
 rendered still more so, by the profligacy 
 of his sentiments. He was, sir, a refined 
 voluptuary, who, by stripping vice of its 
 grossness, rendered it more seductive. Ho- 
 race wrote for the court, and Ovid for the
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 137 
 
 citizens : his Art of Love, and other books 
 u^x^n the same subject, were sufficient to 
 have corrupted a people of more refined 
 morahty than those of Rome. To his 
 Metamorphoses we are indebted for a per- 
 spicuous detail of the mythology then pre- 
 valent; and some parts are written with 
 exquisite taste and feeling. TibuUus was 
 an elegant and innocent trifler; and al- 
 though he has little claim to praise for 
 improving the mind, he merits no censure 
 for having corrupted the manners." 
 
 " I expect your eulogium on the sati- 
 rist, Juvenal ; for, like yourself, he flatter- 
 ed no man ; veiled no vice ; but wrote as 
 he thought — pouring forth the indigna- 
 tion that he felt." 
 
 " Yes, young man, he did all that ; and 
 his strong conceptions were energetically 
 expressed. Still, sir, Juvenal was a sen- 
 sualist; you observe, that he veiled no 
 vice ; but did it not occur to you, that af- 
 ter having exposed her naked, he contem- 
 plated the picture with lascivious delight? 
 for, in treating of the abused indulgence
 
 138 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 of the passions, he shews, that however 
 much he might hate vice in the abstract, 
 he dwelt upon the ideas with pleasure; 
 and in the emphatic language of Scripture, 
 ' rolled them as a sweet morsel under his 
 tongue.'* 
 
 Charles was agreeably surprbed with the 
 eloquence and oratorical powers of the 
 speaker ; for his voice was powerful and 
 sonorous; there was also a generous warmth 
 and manly independence in his manner, 
 which could not fail to arrest the atten- 
 tion of his hearers. Our hero was ponder- 
 ing upon what subject he should intro- 
 duce, that might again arouse the misan- 
 thrope; but the sister returned; James 
 ordered the ladder to be replaced, and they 
 descended. At parting, Charles took the 
 bookseller's hand, begging leave to thank 
 him for their attic entertainment.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GI.ENTHOKN. 139 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 •As I pursued iny journey. 
 
 I spied a wrinkled hag, with age grown doui)le ; 
 Her eyes with scalding rheum were gall'd and red, 
 Cold palsy shook her head ; her hands seem'd wither'd ; 
 And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapp'd 
 The tatter'd remnant of an old stripp'd hanging; 
 Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patclj'd 
 With different colon r'd rags — black, red, white, yellow, 
 And seem'd to speak variety of wretched noss. 
 
 OlWAY. 
 
 Painful Ruminations, and mysterious Appear- 
 ances. 
 
 When Charles reflected upon the zealous 
 friendship of Dan, who had so boldly stood 
 forward as his champion in a dubious 
 cause, he felt the warmest gratitude, and 
 determined that his friendship should be 
 proportionate; and the period soon ar- 
 rived when he had an opportunity of serr- 
 ing this humble adherent.
 
 140 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 Dan's father and another man had one 
 day gone a-fishing; they were far out at 
 sea ; a storm arose ; they struggled to reach 
 the land, but the boat was upset, and both 
 perished within sight of the harbour. The 
 poor man had been the sole support of 
 his family, which consisted of his wife, 
 Dan, and a sister some years younger. It 
 was within a few weeks of the time that 
 Dan was to become- a sailor; but his mo- 
 ther would not now, upon any account, 
 consent that he should go to sea; saying, 
 that it had been the grave of her husband, 
 and should her child persist in being a 
 sailor, she would run distracted. Dan 
 most sincerely loved his mother, and as- 
 sured her that he was most anxious to 
 please and assist her, but was utterly at a 
 loss how he could be employed on land. 
 In this dilemma he souglit the advice of 
 his friend Charles, who, after some deli- 
 beration, said, he would think of it till 
 Monday, when he apjx)inted an hour for 
 meeting Dan, who had now left school. 
 
 On Saturday evening, when Charles ar-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 141 
 
 rived at Glenthorn, he so warmly repre- 
 sented the friendship of Dan, and describ- 
 ed the grief and distress of his widowed 
 mother with such pathos, concluding with 
 an eulogium upon the good-nature and do- 
 cility of Dan, that he prevailed upon Mr. 
 Angus to make trial of him as a farm-ser- 
 vant. When this was communicated to 
 Dan on Monday, he hitched up his shoul- 
 ders, in a way peculiar to himself when 
 much pleased ; and rubbing his hands 
 with gladness, cried — " Lang life to you, 
 Charles ! my mithcr will thank you — 
 Heaven only can reward you ! for me, I 
 find better good luck than high birth ; but 
 whan can I enter? Od, I'm fleyed that 
 I'll be nae use; for I ken naething that I 
 coud gang handy like about, an' it werena 
 blatterin' stanes at the yeld cattle; but 
 they'll think me o'er auld for herding the 
 nowt ! an' I fear I'll mak' a poor hand at 
 the pleugh : how an' a' be, I'm willin' to 
 lear, an' a spur in the head is worth twa 
 in the heel; an' I think, after a', you may
 
 142 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 trust that I sail try no to affront your re- 
 commendation." 
 
 " You may enter upon your service to- 
 morrow, if you please," said Charles ; 
 ** and such is my opinion of your heart, 
 that I have no fear of your making a good 
 servant." 
 
 " Weel, I sail do my best, baith for my 
 ain sake an' yours; but I maun go rin 
 hame an' tell my mither ; it will gar her 
 poor auld heart dance wi' blithness, an' 
 ye'll get her blessin'. An auld wife's he- 
 nison is better than a bonny lassie's ban, 
 Charles." 
 
 Dan took the station assigned him at 
 Glenthorn ; and although he went rather 
 awkwardly to work at first, yet being a 
 brawny fellow, and having a willing mind, 
 he soon gave ample promise of not dis- 
 gracing the recommendation of his friend. 
 
 Charles had finished his Latin, and en- 
 tered upon the study of mathematics ; 
 these gave exercise to the reasoning facul- 
 ty of his mind, which now rapidly ex-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 143 
 
 panded : his personal appearance also im- 
 proving daily, lie possessed the air and 
 stature of a man ; and it was only by his 
 delicate cheek and downy chin, that boy- 
 hood was to be distinguished. 
 
 Colonel Melville had been abroad for 
 several years, and was now returned to 
 Beech wood: soon after his arrival, he 
 went over to Glenthorn, to visit his te- 
 nant, and inquire about his namesake. 
 Being told that he was in Shuttledale at 
 school, the colonel expressed his intention 
 of seeing him there. Ellen, anxious that 
 her dear boy should not be taken by sur- 
 prise, took an early opportunity of seeing 
 Cliarles, and apprizing him of colonel Mel- 
 ville's intended visit, that he might not 
 appear awkward or embarrassed in the 
 presence of a gentleman whom she ear- 
 nestly wished to make his friend. The 
 colonel called upon him a few days after, 
 and was evidently much pleased with his 
 personal appearance, and not less delight- 
 ed mth the propriety of his speech and 
 address during their short interview.
 
 144 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN* 
 
 Charles was invited to accompany Mr. and 
 Mrs. ^Vngus to dinner at Eeechwood on 
 Sunday first, which invitation he modest- 
 ly and politely accepted. 
 
 Colonel Melville was " every inch" a 
 soldier ; a good classic scholar, and fond of 
 the Belles Lettres. Charles acquitted 
 himself so well at the dinner, that he rose 
 still higher in the colonel's estimation, 
 who invited him to spend part of the ap- 
 proaching vacation at Beechwood. Our 
 hero was not less delighted Vv^ith the re- 
 ception he had met, and the prospect of a 
 further intimacy with colonel Melville. 
 If ever he had been inclined to think 
 highly of himself, or put on airs, it was 
 now ; for he believed himself a man, as 
 the friendly colonel had not talked to him 
 as he would have done to a boy. 
 
 The vacation was at hand, and colonel 
 Melville waited upon Mr. and Mrs. An- 
 gus, requesting their leave for Charles to 
 accompany him to the shooting ; but say- 
 ing that he wished first to mention it him- 
 self.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GI.ENTHORN. 145 
 
 The jubilee day came; Charles arrived 
 at Glenthorn, and on the following morn- 
 ing walked over to Beech wood. He was 
 most hospitably received; and during 
 their wa)k over the grounds, colonel Mel- 
 ville inquired whether he was a good 
 sportsman? Charles modestly replied, 
 that he was not, having had no opportu- 
 nity for practice ; his only victims in this 
 amusement being gulls and other aquatic 
 birds. 
 
 " Will you go to the hills with me ?" said 
 the colonel; ** we shall find plenty of 
 game there, and have excellent sport." 
 
 Charles replied, that it would afford 
 him great pleasure, and he should think 
 himself highly honoured. 
 
 " Very well," said his friend; " return 
 to Glenthorn — get yourself ready ; I can 
 supply you with a fowhng-piece and am- 
 munition, and we shall start to-morrow 
 morning, when I will expect you to break- 
 fast." 
 
 They proceeded to the hills " that rise 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 o'er the source of Dee ;" the weather wa» 
 fine, the scenery new to Charles, and the 
 sport excellent. Colonel Melville was af- 
 fable and communicative. The heart of 
 our hero glowed with delight; his step 
 became more elastic, and bis motions so 
 agile, as he bounded over the heath, that 
 he seemed to tread on air. The colonel 
 stood lost in admiration, as he surveyed 
 the symmetry of form, and graceful mo- 
 tions of the stripling, who sprung so light- 
 ly over the ravines which the wintry 
 tempests had made in the hills. 
 
 There were many sportsmen on the 
 heath, several of whom were acquaintances 
 of the colonel, and to these he introduced 
 his young friend ; but in general he pre- 
 ferred shooting in company with Charles 
 only ; for he wished to read his mind, and 
 become acquainted with his disposition as 
 far as possible. Never was a youth of six- 
 teen possessed of less egotism tlian Charles 
 Melville; he would talk upon any sub- 
 ject, or of any one but liimself. How- 
 ever, tlie colonel gave the conversation a
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 147 
 
 turn, which led to that which Charles so 
 sedulously avoided : he was now there- 
 fore obliged to speak of himself, or remain 
 silent, which he preferred doing for some 
 minutes, while his cheek assumed a deep- 
 er glow, and a sigh, which he was unable 
 to suppress, escaped from his manly bo- 
 som. 
 
 " Come, Charles," said the friendly co- 
 lonel, " I am fatigued ; let us rest a little 
 upon this hillock; the flowery heath will 
 form a soft cushion for our limbs; and 
 yon fleecy cloud, which comes sailing over 
 Mount Battock, will soon canopy us from 
 the sun ;" and they flung themselves care- 
 lessly on the heath, while the grasshopper 
 chirruped among the grey moss, and the 
 bee hummed in the purple heath-bell. — 
 " What o'clock is it, Charles ? my watch 
 does not keep time," said the colonel. 
 Charles pulled out his watch. — " Where 
 did you fall in with this venerable-looking 
 relic?" said his friend, taking the watch 
 in his hand. A still deeper blush suffused 
 H 2
 
 148 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 itself over the cheek of our hero, and he 
 was hesitating for a repl}^ when colonel 
 Melville, clapping him on the shoulder, 
 cried — " Come, come, Charles, lay aside 
 that false shame, and talk with confidence 
 to a friend, who knows your history as 
 well as you do yourself." 
 
 C Charles now panted for breath, and had 
 just been able to articulate the aspiration 
 — " Ah !" when colonel Melville inter- 
 rupted him with—" No sentiment, Charles! 
 sportsmen have nothing to do with me- 
 lancholy : let us talk like men, and like 
 friends." So saying, he shook the blush- 
 ing youth heartily by the hand, who 
 stammered out — " I thank you, sir ; I am 
 unworthy of this kindness." 
 
 " You persist in being sentimental, I 
 find," said the colonel. 
 
 " Not willingly, sir; but indeed 1 can- 
 not suppress my feelings," said Charles, 
 with much emotion. 
 
 " But you must learn to command them, 
 if you wish to live comfortably in the 
 world. Why do you blush just now? of
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN, 149 
 
 what are you ashamed?" said his kind 
 friend. 
 
 " Oh, sir ! I am a nameless being, and 
 belong to nobody !'* cried Charles, in, a 
 tremulous voice. 
 
 " Young man, I think you are difficult 
 to please !" said the colonel, \vith affected 
 gravity. " Do you reckon David Angus 
 and Ellen Wallace nobody? You cer- 
 tainly belong to them ; for none were ever 
 fonder of a son. And lastly, do you con- 
 sider me as nobody ? You bear my name, 
 and I certainly have a claim upon you. 
 Had I considered you as nobody when 
 you lay sprawling and smiling on Ellen 
 Wallace's kp, I would not have made it 
 my request that you should bear my name, 
 which, although you seem to think no 
 name at all, sounds very well in my ears, 
 and has served my family for many gene- 
 rations." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, colonel Melville," 
 cried Charles; " you have misunderstood 
 my meaning : nothing could be farther 
 from my intention, or more foreign to my
 
 150 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 heart, than ever to think disrespectfully 
 of you, or of my kind and worthy protec- 
 tors, Mr. and Mrs. Angus, whose parental 
 affection I can never forget nor repay. 
 Again I entreat that you will have the 
 goodness to excuse my feelings, and not 
 construe my words into a meaning (which 
 however unguardedly they may have been 
 expressed) it was never intended that they 
 should convey." 
 
 Colonel Melville again took our liero*s 
 hand, saying — " Dear Charles, I am not 
 offended ; I can conceive and excuse your 
 feelings ; but I have already said, tliat a 
 man must command his feelings;" here 
 the gallant soldier averted his face, cough- 
 ed, and wiped his eyes ; " therefore, I a- 
 gain repeat, let us talk as men, and as 
 friends. I have a strong impression upon 
 my mind, that your parents will yet be 
 discovered, which I sincerely wish, both 
 for your sake and theirs ; and when this 
 happens, they will, I am persuaded, be of 
 a rank and character to do you honour, 
 and they will have cause to be proud of
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN, 151 
 
 $uch a son. I do not say this to flatter 
 you ; for, be assured, Charles, that the in- 
 terest my heart takes in your happiness 
 will induce ine to point out your faults 
 and foibles the moment that I discover 
 them." 
 
 " Most sincerely do I thank you, sir," 
 said Charles, grasping colonel JNIelville's 
 hand, while his eyes swam in tears. 
 
 " You must have now nearly finished 
 your education ?" said his friend. 
 
 *' I have already received an education 
 far beyond any station to which I can 
 ^ispire, or hope for in life," replied Cliarlcs. 
 
 " And in Britain, to what station may 
 not a young man of your appearance and 
 education aspire ? Have you ever talked 
 with your best friends on this subject?'' 
 said the colonel. 
 
 " Never," replied Charles. 
 
 " Have you formed an attachment to 
 any particular profession in your own 
 mind ?" inquired his friend. 
 
 " I have endeavoured to guard against 
 this," said Charles.
 
 152 FOUNDLING OF GLENTIIORN. 
 
 ** And why so?" continued the coloneL 
 
 " From you, nay friend, I can disguise 
 nothing ; I felt my mind soaring above 
 my station, and wished to suppress ambi- 
 tion, as dangerous to my present peace 
 and future happiness." 
 
 " Well, this is candid ; and where did 
 your towering thoughts rest, or to what 
 lieight did they soar?" 
 
 '* They have hitherto been too unde- 
 fined for me to condescend upon particu- 
 lars." 
 
 *' VV^hat think you of the army ?" 
 
 " I cannot but think highly of a pro- 
 fession, in which I see dignity of mind 
 and benevolence of heart give lustre to 
 its members." 
 
 *' Why, Charles, you are quite a cour- 
 tier! but tell me seriously, whether you 
 would like to commence your career in 
 life by carrying a pair of colours, trusting 
 to Fortune for preferment? Answer me 
 candidly ; and let no false delicacy upon 
 my account influence your reply." 
 
 The bosom of our hero glowed with de-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 153 
 
 light, and he replied — " My kind friend, 
 if ever I have ventured to indulge a wish 
 concerning a profession, it has been for 
 that which you have mentioned. There 
 I should be able to hide myself from those 
 who despise me on account of my birth ; 
 I should mingle with noble-minded and 
 honourable men; and the field of fame 
 would be open before me." 
 
 " Well, well, Charles, keep your mind 
 easy ; I will talk to your protectors — your 
 best friends ; they have a right to be con- 
 sulted : we shall resolve upon something 
 that may meet your wishes ; therefore, no 
 more whining; banish melancholy: at 
 present let us rise and follow our sport." 
 
 In the afternoon, keenly engaged in 
 pleasure, and allured by the serenity of 
 the sky, they had rambled over the heath 
 to a greater distance than ordinary from 
 their tent, when a dark and dense cloud, 
 attracted by the hills, portended a sudden 
 and heavy shower — very probably a thun- 
 der-storm. Our sportsmen found that it 
 Ii3
 
 154 FOUNDLING OP GLENTHORN. 
 
 would be impracticable to reach their tent 
 in time for shelter, and there was no other 
 in sight ; when Charles, looking to the 
 left, discovered two or three huts in a deep 
 and narrow valley ; they stood in front of 
 a pile of grey and rugged rocks, behind 
 which a hill reared it« brown head : the 
 sun was not yet obscured, and his beams 
 shed peculiar lustre on the purple heath 
 blossoms which glowed on its side: the 
 bare rocks seemed to overhang the miser- 
 able huts which they sheltered, and inter- 
 cepting the sunbeams, placed them deeply 
 in the shade, so that although in the fore- 
 ground of the landscape; they were very 
 indistinctly seen. The ^^athering storm 
 approached still nearer, and the sportsmen 
 hastened to shelter themselves in one «>f 
 the huts they had so opportunely disco- 
 vered. Notwithstanding all the speed 
 they could exert, the shower overtook 
 them 1 it burst with the fury of a tropical 
 tempest, and they reached the hut, drip- 
 ping, and wetted to the skin. Vivid 
 flashes of lightning now issued from the
 
 FOUNDLING OB* GLENTHORN. 155 
 
 dark bosom of the impending cloud, fol- 
 lowed by loud and reiterated peals of 
 thunder. The scene became so awfully 
 sublime, that the strangers, unmindful of 
 their situation, stood in front of the huts, 
 lost in wonder and admiration. The fork- 
 ed lightning darted from the cloud, and 
 seemed to run along the heath ; while the 
 thunder, rattling in the concave above, 
 shook the massy rocks behind them, till 
 the strangers imagined that they would 
 tumble over their heads: the dreadful 
 peals were reverberated from the moun- 
 tains, and prolonged in the valleys, till 
 they died away in fainter echoes among 
 the distant hills. 
 
 Our sportsman now entered the nearest 
 hut, the sole inhabitant of which was a 
 woman, who sat on a bank of turf in one 
 comer, apparently much alarmed, and hid- 
 ing her face with her hands. The stran- 
 gers requested leave to take shelter in her 
 miserable dwelling, and being now cold, 
 begged that she would endeavour to kin- 
 dle a fire. Their hostess, ashamed of her
 
 156 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 fears, or perhaps regaining courage from 
 the presence of her guests, like children, 
 who are afraid only when alone, went to 
 the other end of the hut, fetching a quan- 
 tity of heath and brushwood, which, light- 
 ing up, it blazed upon the hearth, diffus- 
 ing its kindly warmth to the frames of the 
 shivering sportsmen. 
 
 The woman did not seem to be a native 
 of the Highlands ; for the few words that 
 she spoke had not the accent and intona- 
 tion peculiar to the aboriginal inhabitants. 
 Her guests were seated at opposite sides 
 oftliefire: she had for some time fixed 
 her eyes upon colonel Melville, and now 
 stalking round behind him, she continued 
 to gaze upon Charles, but still as if afraid 
 of being detected. 
 
 " Charles," said the colonel, " this is a 
 singular incident, and will yet serve to 
 amuse our friends at Becchwood and Glen- 
 thorn, on a winter evening." 
 
 During this remark of the colonel's, 
 Charles observed, that at the word Glen- 
 thorn, the woman gave an involuntary
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOIIN. 157 
 
 start. She stood behind the colonel, and 
 right opposite to Charles, who now endea- 
 voured to lead her into conversation, say- 
 ing — " Were you born near this, good 
 woman ?" 
 
 " No," replied she. 
 
 " Have you lived long here ?" 
 
 " A long time," replied the woman. 
 
 " Are you married ?" said Charles. 
 
 " No," answered she. 
 
 " You have come from the south, I pre- 
 sume?" said Charles, still hoping to draw 
 from her something more than monosylla- 
 bles. 
 
 The woman stole a hasty glance at 
 Charles, and appeared to shudder, while 
 the muscles of her face were distorted. 
 She stooped down, averting her counte- 
 nance, and pretended to be repairing the 
 fire, after which she went out. Charles 
 whispered to his friend, that there was 
 something very strange in the woman's 
 manner, requesting him to remark her 
 when she came in. They sat for more 
 than half an hour, and their hostess did
 
 158 rOUXDLING OF GLENTHORX. 
 
 not return, at which they were not a little 
 surprised. 
 
 The storm was now past, and they sal- 
 lied from the hut, expecting to see her in 
 the vicinity, but no human being appear- 
 ed in sight. Wishing to return to their 
 tent, they deposited a piece of money in 
 a conspicuous part of the hut and de- 
 parted. 
 
 The sun was now shining with all the 
 splendour and softness of a summer even- 
 ing, and they could not proceed without 
 pausing to admire the scene, now so much 
 changed from what it was- on their ap- 
 proach. The wide extended heath glowed 
 in animating hue; at a great distance the 
 white walls of a gentlemar>*s seat were 
 beautifully contrasted with the verdant 
 woods by which it was surrounded; while, 
 still farther distant, the blue hills coirid 
 scarcely be distinguished from the cloud- 
 less sky ; the shot of a sportsman, and the 
 occasional wail of a melancholy bird, were 
 the only sounds that broke upon the ear ; 
 the flowering heath and wild thyme gave
 
 FOUKDLIKG OF GLEKTHORN. 159 
 
 out their fragrance around them ; yellow 
 moss and grey lichens clothed the face of 
 the rocks, from the crevices of which 
 sprung the white and purple foxglove, 
 whose late and lingering bells nodded on 
 the top of its spiry stems; these were 
 fringed by the feathery and light green 
 fern : on the summit the hardy juniper 
 spread its bushy and verdant branches, 
 studded with black and green berries, while 
 ever)' plant and blade seemed hung with 
 gems pure as crj'stal ; for the last drops 
 of the shower had fallen so gently, that 
 they still lingered on the leaves, and re- 
 flected the rays of the sun with most bril- 
 liant splendour. 
 
 On their way to the tent, Charles com- 
 municated to his friend the stranore beha- 
 \iour of the woman in the hut, at which 
 colonel Melville was much astonished. 
 The sun was down by the time they ar- 
 rived; hungry and fatigued they made a 
 hearty supper, took a short walk, and re- 
 tired to rest. The morning sun found 
 them invigorated, and they pursued their
 
 160 FOUNDLING OF GL'ENTHOllN. 
 
 sport with their wonted avidity. During 
 the forenoon, as they scampered over the 
 heath, they were met by a being appa- 
 rently in the last stage of human wretch- 
 edness ; it seemed to be a woman clothed, 
 or rather hung round with rags; while 
 her wrinkled features and ghastly counte- 
 nance, strongly called up to the recollec- 
 tion, one of Macbeth's witches, on the 
 muir of Forres. She approached them 
 with a stiff and awkward courtesy, and in 
 a feeble voice said — " God bless your ho- 
 nours ! min' the puir aul' body !" Charles 
 had a muirfowl in his hand, which he had 
 newly shot ; this he presented to her, also 
 a shilling, for he was moved to pity by 
 her wretched appearance, as she stooped 
 leaning upon the staft', which trembled in 
 her palsied hand ; the colonel also gave her 
 a donation, and again attempting to cour- 
 tesy, she turned to Charles and said— 
 " Ye're a bonnie lad — blessin's on your 
 weel fa'rd face ! — lat me look at your han\" 
 Charles almost unconsciously held out his 
 hand. " Ay, ay ! — ye've been born a gen-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOllN. 1 61 
 
 tleman — an' never had your fit upo' your 
 father's land — ye've thought muckle about 
 ane ^vhom you never saw — but there's 
 a time com in' an' guid fortune afore your 
 han' — it's no ilka ane wha can brag that 
 he has twa mithers — Fareweel ! — an' God 
 bless your bonnie face !" 
 
 So saying she hobbled away upon her 
 crutch, leaving Charles and his friend 
 staring upon each other; and by the time 
 that they raised their eyes to look for her, 
 she had disappeared. They were upon 
 the verge of a narrow glen, the banks of 
 which were covered with furze and cop- 
 pice wood, among which it was easy for 
 her to elude observation. 
 
 Colonel Melville and Charles were mu- 
 tually amazed at what they had heard, for 
 wliich they were utterly unable to account. 
 The colonel had never given the slightest 
 degree of credit to the oracular predictions 
 of spae-wives, or fortune-tellers of any de- 
 scription; even the second sight of the 
 Highlanders he had always treated with 
 derision. On the present occasion, his
 
 162 FOUNDLING OP GLENTHORN. 
 
 scepticism was for a moment staggered ; 
 but he soon began to take a more rational 
 view of the apparent mystery ; and recol- 
 lecting what Charles had told him of the 
 woman's strange conduct on the preceding 
 evening, he began to suspect that there 
 was some connexion between that and the 
 astonishing incident of this morning. He 
 therefore proposed that they should still 
 endeavour to find the withered sybil, and 
 either by bribes or threatenings, obtain an 
 explanation of her mysterious words. By 
 looking round on all sides, she was not to 
 be seen; they w^ere therefore convinced 
 that she had secreted herself in tlie dingle, 
 which they immediately began to explore, 
 with as much patient assiduity as ever was 
 exhibited by a couple of schoolboys a 
 bird-nesting; but after spending several 
 hours, tlifey were obliged to resign the 
 search, being utterly unable to start the 
 game. 
 
 Colonel Melville then proposed that 
 they should take a hasty repast, and visit 
 the hut in which they had taken shelter
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 163 
 
 last night, as he was still of opinion that 
 these two mysterious circumstances were 
 some way connected, or dependent upon 
 each other. 
 
 Upon arriving at the cottage they found 
 the door fast, and no answer was returned 
 to their repeated knockings ; they hovered 
 in the muirs within sight of it, even until 
 twilight ; but no person approached it in 
 any direction. 
 
 On the following day they repaired to 
 the same spot immediately after break- 
 fast; still all was silent and solitary ; and 
 although they pursued their sports in the 
 vicinity, keeping it constantly in view, 
 still no person was seen to issue from it : 
 they called at the neighbouring cabin, re- 
 questing leave to roast some game ; and 
 having made the owners join in their liba- 
 tions from a small flask of whiskfy, as also 
 bestowing a suitable pecuniary recom- 
 pence for the trouble which they had 
 given, our sportsmen endeavoured to pro- 
 cure some information concerning the ob- 
 ject of their search, but could obtain very
 
 164 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 little satisfaction, their informants (an old 
 nnan and a wonaan, apparently his daugh- 
 ter) being either grossly ignorant, or very 
 reserved. All that they could learn was, 
 that the woman came from the south, had 
 resided there several years, associated with 
 nobody, and was supposed to be rather 
 unsettled in her mind. 
 
 Our sportsmen revisited the hut every 
 day during their stay, sometimes early in 
 the morning, and at others after sunset, 
 but it was always shut up. Baffled in 
 every attempt to elucidate the mystery, 
 and bewildered in vague conjecture, they 
 left the muirs, both ruminating upon what 
 they could neither forget nor comprehend. 
 
 After their return, Charles spent some 
 time at Beech wood, and, at parting, re- 
 ceived renewed assurances of friendship 
 from colonel Melville.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOKN. 165 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 And now with sails declined, 
 
 The wandering vessel drove before the wind; 
 
 Tossed and relossed aloft, and then idow, 
 
 Tiioy every nioment wait the coming blow. Diiyden. 
 
 Heroic Achievements gratefully acknozcledged, 
 
 Although Mr. and Mrs. Angus wished 
 to have had the pleasure of their protegees 
 company during the vacation, they were 
 too happy in the friendship shewn to him 
 by colonel Melville to regret his absence, 
 and the short time that he had now to stay 
 at Glenthorn was passed very agreeably. 
 He related the strange incidents tliat had 
 occurred in the Highlands; when Mrs. 
 Angus expressed her suspicion, that the 
 woman in the hut must have been she 
 who deserted him at Glenthorn, and that 
 she had recognised him by his likeness to 
 some one of his parents : concerning the
 
 166 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 sybil on the heath, she could in^ no con- 
 jecture, although it was obvious that he 
 was known to her, and also that she knew 
 his mother to be alive. 
 
 Charles returned to school, where he 
 prosecuted his studies with renovated ar- 
 dour and most unremitting perseverance. 
 Superior in size and muscular strength to 
 any of his companions, had he been in- 
 clined to play the tyrant, no single arm 
 could have opposed him ; but he continued, 
 in the genuine spirit of chivalry, to be the 
 champion of the weak, and the protector 
 of the oppressed. And such was now his 
 influence, that he was either listened to 
 with respect, or feared for the prowess of 
 his arm; in consequence of this, the youn- 
 ger pupils were neither bullied nor beaten 
 by their more robust companions, as had 
 often been the custom ; and the praises of 
 Charles Melville were repeated at almost 
 every fireside from which a youngling 
 went to school. 
 
 Nor was his fame confined to such every- 
 day occurrences ; an event took place
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 167 
 
 which rendered his prowess more conspi- 
 cuous, and gave a celebrity to his name in 
 Shuttledale and its vicinity. 
 
 A violent storm had arisen, and a vessel 
 at some distance from the harbour was 
 seen to be in the most imminent danger; 
 the wind blew a hurricane, the tide was 
 flowing, and the ship was impelled to the 
 land with resistless impetuosity. The en- 
 trance to the harbour was narrow, and 
 from the direction of the wind, it was 
 feared that the ship would be driven to 
 leeward, when destruction would be inevi- 
 table. She was soon discovered to be the 
 Argus, belonging to the town, and trading 
 to Leith. It was just the hour of dismis- 
 sion from school; every one ran to the 
 harbour; the pier was crowded with spec- 
 tators, some alarmed for the fate of a fa- 
 ther, a son, or a brother ; but all sympa- 
 thizing with the unfortunate crew, whose 
 danger now increased every moment. A 
 poor man, who, as it afterwards appeared, 
 had a son in the tempest-tossed bark, 
 pushed through the crowd, panting and
 
 168 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 breathless, anxious to reach the brink of 
 the pier, where he could see the hapless 
 vessel; he, perhaps somewhat rudely, jost- 
 led the young laird of Dubby Moss, en- 
 deavouring to elbow himself before him ; 
 his squireship conceiving that his gentility 
 was insulted by such unmannerly rude- 
 ness from a plebeian, gave the poor man a 
 push, that pitched him head foremost into 
 the sea, which was lashing the groaning 
 bulwark opposed to its rolling billows. 
 Charles stood at a little distance, saw the 
 man drop into the flood, and instantane- 
 ously springing from the pier, plunged 
 after him : every eye was now fixed upon 
 the pair, till a dreadful sea seemed to 
 swallow both; but Charles soon emerged, 
 holding up the man's head by his hand 
 fastened in his grey locks. Continuing to 
 buffet the waves, he brought the old man 
 to the pier in life, although nearly dead 
 with terror and agitation; a rope had been 
 flung over, but the old man was so un- 
 nerved that he could make no exertion ; 
 he was, however, with difficulty brought 
 
 #
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. l69 
 
 up, and a few of his acquaintances con- 
 ducted him home, while liis lieroic deli- 
 verer was greeted witli loud and universal 
 applause. 
 
 But a crowd had surrounded Ned Fer- 
 gus of Dubby Moss, and were hustling 
 him on all sides, when a proposition was 
 made, and unanimously carried, to give him 
 a good ducking. A rope was fastened 
 round his waist, and they were shoving 
 him over the pier at the moment that 
 Charles approached, who immediately in- 
 terposed in behalf of the victim to popular 
 indignation. Nothing could be refused 
 to him who had evinced such ma^nani- 
 mity, although some of the crowd exclaim- 
 ed — " D n him ! he did not deserve 
 
 this kindness at your hands.*' — "Nor at 
 any one's else !" cried others. Fergus was 
 too much ashamed to thank his preserver, 
 but in silent and gloomy silence slunk into 
 the crowd, who continued to push him 
 till he was fairly on the outside, where he 
 was hooted and assailed with every species 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 of missiles which could be found upon the 
 pier, and he was glad to escape home as 
 speedily as possible. 
 
 The hapless bark was , still struggling 
 with the tempest, endeavouring to gain 
 the harbour, and was now so near, that a 
 few minutes would decide her fate. She 
 approached the entrance, still bounding 
 triumphantly over the surges — it was the 
 critical moment — every heart palpitated, 
 and every eye was fixed in anxious gaze — 
 a dreadful rolling sea took her quarter — 
 her bow struck upon the jetty, which seem- 
 ed to shake to its foundation, the noise of 
 the shock resounding over the roar of the 
 storm. The hapless vessel was dreadfully 
 shattered by the concussion, and, with the 
 swiftness of an arrow, carried behind the 
 pier, where the next heavy surge run her 
 aground, about half a cable's length from 
 the shore. 
 
 All was now shrieking and alarm, for 
 as the tide was still flowing, it was obvious 
 that the bark would go to pieces ; every 
 sea was breaking over her, and it was only
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 171 
 
 by firmly grasping whatever was within 
 reach, that the crew could save themselves 
 from being washed overboard ; some of 
 the sails which they had not been able to 
 furl, were flapping in tatters, adding to the 
 horror of the scene. 
 
 Although so near the land, it was im- 
 possible to reach the shore, as every effort 
 to get a rope out had proved abortive, and 
 it was considered as equally impracticable 
 for those on the beach to approach the 
 vessel, for all declared that no boat could 
 live in such a sea. Charles, in vain, urged 
 some sailors to make the attempt, declar- 
 ing his readiness to accompany them, but 
 every one refused ; the storm seemed to 
 increase; the tide was still flowing; the 
 sun was set ; the sky lowered with a dark 
 portentous aspect; and it was every mo- 
 ment expected that the vessel would break 
 up, for her quarter was already torn away. 
 It was impossible for Charles to manage a 
 boat alone among such dreadful seas, but 
 he was still determined to make an at- 
 tempt at saving the hapless crew, 
 I 2
 
 172 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 There lay upon the quay a crate used 
 for packing coarse earthen-ware, to which 
 he fastened a light rope of sufficient length, 
 tying the other end round his waist ; mak- 
 ing another rope fast to the crate, he gave 
 the loose end to the crowd on the beach 
 with the necessary instructions, and with 
 fearless intrepidity plunged among the 
 foaming billows; by vigorous exertion and 
 skilful swimming, he reached the vessel ; 
 when availing himself of a swelling w^ave, 
 he grasped the shrouds, and sprung upon 
 the deck. He now dragged the crate 
 through the waves, and loosing the rope 
 from his waist, fastened it to the bark, 
 pulled the frail machine upon deck, and 
 lashing a seaman upon this slender vehi- 
 cle, a signal was made to those on shore, 
 who instantly pulled it to land: it was 
 dragged back to the vessel, and by similar 
 operations the whole crew safely put on 
 shore. There was still on board a young 
 woman of interesting appearance; she stood 
 upon deck, her hands clenched in the 
 shrouds, and neither moved nor spoke.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 173 
 
 except when a sea broke over her, that she 
 sobbed convulsively. Charles had before 
 proposed sending her ashore, but she had 
 refused with looks of anguish. Now that 
 she was alone with him upon deck, she 
 looked in his face with most wistful ahirm; 
 and, heaving a deep sigh, sobbed out — 
 " Must I perish here?" 
 
 " No," replied our hero, " why should 
 you perish ? I will send you on shore in 
 safety." 
 
 " Oh, I cannot go that way!" exclaimed 
 she ; " leave me, and let me die." 
 
 By following the glance of her eye, 
 Charles guessed that it was the delicacy of 
 her sex which prevented her consent ; he 
 therefore replied — " I understand you — 
 be calm, allow me to manage the wliole, 
 and all will be well." She again cast upon 
 him a most imploring look and said — 
 " Well, do as you please." He looked 
 around, but every moveable was swept 
 from the deck ; there was no time for de- 
 liberation, and taking his handkerchief, he 
 secured her clothes on her ancles, bound
 
 174 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 her upon the slender raft, and feeling the 
 bark yielding to the merciless element, 
 lowered it as gently as possible upon the 
 surges, and soon had the pleasure of seeing 
 her safely landed. But before he could 
 take any measures for his own safety, the 
 vessel parted, the mast and rigging fall- 
 ing with a dreadful crash, and Charles in- 
 stantly disappeared. A wild shriek of hor- 
 ror and agony now burst from the specta- 
 tors, who considered this humane and un- 
 daunted hero as either killed by the fall of 
 the mast, or entangled among the wreck, 
 and buried in the deep. After a lapse of 
 nearly two minutes, he appeared on a 
 plank, borne up by a swelling surge, and 
 quite clear of the wreck ; by its reflux he 
 was again carried back, and ingulfed 
 in the dreadful abyss ; a succeeding wave 
 hurled him into shallow water. Some men 
 now rushed in to assist him, and he was 
 placed upon his legs ; but u])on attempt- 
 ing to take his right arm, it w^as found 
 to be broken between the wrist and the 
 elbow.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 175 
 
 Safely landed on terra firma, neither the 
 fatigue that he had undergone, nor the 
 pain of his fractured arm, could depress 
 the spirits of Charles ; he anxiously and 
 deliberately inquired after all whom he had 
 saved ; they thronged around, hailing him 
 as their preserver, and deploring the mis- 
 fortune he had experienced ; but this he 
 considered as a mere trifle, amidst the 
 more important events of the evening. 
 Not seeing the woman, he inquired for 
 her, and was told that she was conducted 
 safely away. 
 
 JMr. Charters had come to the shore 
 while Charles was on board the ship, and 
 stood a silent admirer of his fortitude and 
 presence of mind; he now prevailed uj)on 
 him to retire, and accompanying him 
 home, his arm was set, he went to bed, 
 and soon sunk into a profound sleep. 
 
 Next morning Mr. Chartcrs's gate was 
 crowded with anxious inquirers after the 
 hero of the storm, for the name of Charles 
 Melville was now in every mouth, and his 
 dauntless fortitude and cool prudence the
 
 176 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 theme of every tongue. He kept entirely- 
 free from fever, and refused to be confin- 
 ed, walking about with his arm in a sling. 
 
 His friends at Glenthorn came to visit 
 him in much alarm; Ellen cried over him 
 hke a child, but was herself incapable of 
 defining whether her tears proceeded from 
 sorrow for his misfortune, or admiration of 
 his courage and romantic humanity, which 
 appeared so nearly akin to her own. This 
 perilous adventure had made him dearer 
 to her heart than ever, and although she felt 
 with deep regret that he was not, strictly 
 speaking, her son, yet a thousand nameless 
 emotions convinced her that he was the 
 child of her lieart ; and she believed that 
 he had by sympathy imbibed from her 
 those sentiments of benevolence which per- 
 vaded his bosom. She had, at first, pro- 
 posed his immediate removal to Glenthorn; 
 but to this doctor Opal would not agree, 
 upon account of his attendance. 
 
 While Mrs. Angus sat with her pro- 
 tege and some friends, the servant entered, 
 saying, there was an old man in the kitch-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 177 
 
 en, who insisted upon seeing Mr. INIel- 
 ville. Upon being requested to shew him 
 in, she soon returned, ushering in an old 
 man with a coarse grey coat, and by the 
 apron which he wore, apparently a weaver; 
 puUing off his blue bonnet, and stroking 
 down his thin and grey locks on his wrink- 
 led temples, he said, in a modest and tre- 
 mulous accent — " I beg pardon for makin' 
 sae hamely, but ye maun excuse me, sirs, 
 for I coudna rest till I saw the worthy 
 gentleman, to thank him for a' his good- 
 ness to me an' mine, an' to speer about his 
 ain health ; for I'm sair greeved to hear 
 that he sud ha'e met sic an accident, 
 when performin' an act o' mercy." Dur- 
 ing this speech, the poor man's eye was 
 anxiously wandering over the room, till it 
 rested upon Charles, and he exclaimed — 
 " Och ! och ! its o'er true ! an' ye've got- 
 ten your arm broken by the job ; but I 
 houp, by the blessin' o' God, it will soon 
 mend, an' I'm sure, if the prayers o' tlie 
 widow an' the fatherless can reach to a 
 I 3
 
 178 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN, 
 
 throne o' grace, they'll be heard for you. 
 Ye sail never be forgotten by me an' my 
 Marian, e'enin' nor mornin' ; an' it's weel 
 our part ; for, an' it hadna been for you 
 as an instrument in the hand o' Provi- 
 dence, she wad have been sittin' the night, 
 a lanely childless widow — yes, ye first 
 saved me, an' syne my laddie, frae a wa- 
 tery grave ; but Heaven will reward you 
 — for 1 canna !" Tears of gratitude trick- 
 led down the poor man's cheeks, and he 
 paused, not because he had finished, but 
 that his heart was too full for utterance. 
 He was now requested to be seated, for 
 he had stood at a respectful distance on 
 the floor, stooping forward in a humble 
 posture, his bonnet on the top of a short 
 staff, upon which his left hand rested, 
 wliile his right arm was half stretched, 
 and his hand gently raised. He was help- 
 ed to a glass of wine, when again rising, 
 he went slowly up to Charles, and taking 
 his left hand, said, with a peculiar solem- 
 nity of voice — " Sir, your good health, 
 and speedy recovery ; may ye ever prove
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 179 
 
 as gryte a blessin' to your parents an' a' 
 your friends, as ye've been to me, an' may 
 the rich blessin' o' Heaven ever attend 
 you !" Having finished this benediction, 
 the venerable old man slowly resumed his 
 seat. The company now understood that 
 this was the man whom Fergus had push- 
 ed over the pier, and that he had a son on 
 board the Argus. Being asked whether 
 he was recovered from the accident — 
 " Thank God!" said he, " I think I'll get 
 o'er it ; but it was e'en a sair set upo' me, 
 for I was a' confused thinkin' about my 
 laddie, afore that happened. I cudna come 
 out yesterday, or 1 sud ha'e been here; 
 but my ain mishanter, an' after I was ta'en 
 hame, thinkin' about the Argus an' my 
 callan, put me into sic a state as I cudna 
 describe. It was only yesterday mornin' 
 that I kent wha took me out o' the water, 
 for, whan they carried me hame, I wasna 
 fit for speerin' aught about it. An' syne 
 when the laddie cam' in i' the gloamin, after 
 I had lien down a wee, Marian got up wi'
 
 180 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 sic a skirl, that I thought she had fa'n in 
 the fire; for, poor woman! she canna rise 
 frae her seat; but Johnnie was the blithest 
 sight we ever saw: an' it's to Providence 
 an' you, Mr. Melville, that we're indebted 
 for it a' ! for my laddie tells us, that there 
 wadna a sailor in a' Shuttledale venture 
 out to them, although you offered to gang 
 wi' them." 
 
 " You mentioned that your wife is in- 
 firm; what is her complaint?" said Mrs. 
 Angus. 
 
 ** Au', mem, she's sair distressed wi' the 
 rumaticks, an' she had been able to hirple 
 upon a staff, she wad ha'e been here the 
 day wi' her blcssin' ; but an' ye wad just 
 look in some day, sir, whan you're in the 
 cast, an' get it frae her ain mou', at our 
 ain fireside, it wad mak' us aye the raair 
 in your debt; for, oh, sir, she's fain to see 
 you !' Charles promised to call ; and the 
 grateful old man took his departure, after 
 again shaking hands with his preserver, 
 and with eyes raised to heaven, exclaim-
 
 FOUNDLING OF Gl.ENTHORN. 181 
 
 ing, with pathetic fervour and animation 
 — " May the blessing of him who was 
 ready to perish come upon you !" 
 
 Dan Norval had continued at Glen- 
 thorn, and was every day rising in favour 
 with both master and mistress; for, ex- 
 clusive of what might be termed his offi- 
 cial duties, Dan was ready at all times, 
 and on all occasions, to perform many 
 slight offices, to which his fellow-servants 
 would have thought it a degradation to 
 submit ; while he, on the contrary, shewed 
 an anxiety to anticipate their wishes— 
 ever cheerful and always happiest when 
 most actively employed : these, and his 
 attachment to Charles, were qualifications 
 which could not fail of securing his inte- 
 rest at Glcntliorn. 
 
 On the present occasion, Dan almost 
 forgot the misfortune of his friend, in the 
 rapture which lie felt on hearing of his 
 achievement, which was almost his con- 
 stant theme, both without and within 
 doors, for a week after. Although re- 
 moved from his mother, he had never re-
 
 182 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 laxed in discharging his filial duty ; not 
 only visiting her every Sunday, but sav- 
 ing every shilling possible of his wages, 
 to make her more comfortable. She had 
 been for some time in a lingering illness, 
 and was now much worse — so much so, 
 that Dan had been sent for when she was 
 believed dying. Mrs. Angus, when in 
 town, visited the poor woman, whom she 
 found supplied with the necessaries, but 
 unprovided with many little comforts re- 
 quisite for one in her situation. Ellen in- 
 dulged the benevolence of her disposition, 
 with even more than her usual liberality ; 
 and this kindness was continued till the 
 widow's death, which happened some 
 weeks after. Dan, although not qualified 
 to speak his gratitude, thought and felt 
 deeply ; and considering Charles as the 
 primum mobile of the whole, his attach- 
 ment was increased in proportion. 
 
 Charles recovered rapidly, and was soon 
 able to dispense with doctor Opal's attend- 
 ance. He went to spend some time at 
 Glenthorn — walking over the farm with
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 183 
 
 Mr. Angus during the day, and convers- 
 ing in the parlour through the evening. 
 He now received an invitation to pass a 
 week or two at Beech wood, and was re- 
 ceived with the respect due to an esteem- 
 ed and intimate friend. Colonel Melville 
 regretted his fractured arm, which pre- 
 vented him from enjoying the pleasure of 
 hunting, for which the season was now 
 propitious ; however, they walked out to- 
 gether — talked of farming, planting, fish- 
 ing, fowling, camps, campaigns, and the 
 history of heroes in past ages, till Charles 
 persuaded himself that a thirst for military 
 glory was kindling in his bosom. A se- 
 vere storm now set in, and all out-door 
 amusements being suspended, they had 
 recourse to the parlour fireside, and the 
 enjoyments of the domestic circle. 
 
 Colonel ^lelville's family consisted of 
 his wife, three daughters, and their go- 
 verness. Mrs. Melville was a fine-looking 
 woman, aged about thirty-five ; and al- 
 though the bloom of early youth was fled, 
 time had mellowed the glowing tints, and
 
 184« FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 chastened them into matronly graces, 
 which still shed peculiar and pleasing lus- 
 tre. Her mind had never been brilliant; 
 but she was modest and unassuming; not 
 given to much talking; not only good- 
 natured, but of so happy and cheerful a 
 disposition, that she was generally ])leased 
 herself, and sought to promote the happi- 
 ness of those around her. Possessed of 
 sufficient good sense to see her duties as 
 a wife and a mother, the discharge of these 
 constituted her greatest pleasure. Con- 
 fiding what is commonly termed educa- 
 tion to their governess, she united her 
 efforts with that lady in forming the 
 minds and establishing the principles of 
 her daughters : she was particularly care- 
 ful to guard them from acquiring habits 
 of cunning, deception, or dissimulation, 
 and by every possible means cultivated 
 ingenuous openness of behaviour, and a 
 strict adherence to truth on all occasions ; 
 by her maternal kindness, which she ne- 
 ver allowed to degenerate into doting 
 fondness, they were taught to repose im-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 185 
 
 plicit confidence in her counsels, and had 
 no secrets which they wished to retain 
 from so kind and prudent a mother. 
 They at all times considered her as their 
 hest friend; although if they exhibited 
 less fondness for their father, it was mere- 
 ly owing to his having been often absent, 
 and consequently less familiarized to their 
 minds. Mrs. Melville's religion was sin- 
 cere, but without bigotry; and she was 
 at much pains to impress proper notions 
 of the Deity upon the minds of her chil- 
 dren : without attempting to distract their 
 dawning intellect with mysteries beyond 
 their comprehension, she endeavoured to 
 convince them of the omniscience, omni- 
 presence, and universal providence of the 
 Almighty — being careful that her own 
 example should never counteract the pre- 
 cepts which she taught. 
 
 Emma, her eldest daughter, was about 
 two years younger than Charles ; she was 
 tall, and finely formed : it was impossible 
 to look on her face without pleasure ; for 
 every feature indicated the harmony and
 
 - She 
 
 Ld€fl 
 
 Hand 
 
 FOCXDLIXG OP GLZXTHOXy. lOT 
 
 When objects cf distress zpproached her, 
 she betrayed the sosceptibility cc her 
 heart, cot by tumiiig away, he: by ex- 
 erting her atn:<3Pt eodearcmrs to rt-liere 
 their wants sad nie4>?fate their ?3ii5eriB.g? . 
 She Derer besid oi & depirtore wxn pn:> 
 dence or iDoral rectitude whhcfct paia; 
 was always ready lo atuibute ti*e best 
 mothre ftr ereij action. Sedate; 
 but not Sid, ciieeiiii], boct not giiUjp ifae 
 seemed to keep die doe UMean bdwijii 
 pTTT-'-'^ '-^enty an 
 
 L asntiierof; 
 
 sitioo; faatfitiin hcra^ic; it was les 
 sifale to decide wli 
 mind mi^it be, in mote 
 present die erhilMtBd a greater ^ofir of 
 healtli and floir o£ spirits; was a fiicfy 
 rattle, talking always as she ^t, and eiciy 
 tldi^ tiiat die tfaoa^; plsyfid, and in- 
 clined to moch escreise; die was always 
 in motion, and teaaed her sirtcisli^niinp- 
 ii^: die possessed a spcitiveness of tem- 
 per wliicli displayed itself in jokes and in- 
 Doeent laiUerr; wanD-bearted. bot cf a
 
 188 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 sanguine disposition, her sympathy and 
 resentment were both evanescent. 
 
 Anne, the youngest daughter, was a 
 little brunette, studious and observing be- 
 yond her years ; shewing a disposition to 
 trace every effect to its cause ; and seemed 
 a philosopher in petticoats. 
 
 Miss Courtenay was an accomplished 
 and sensible lady, rather past the meridian 
 of life ; she entered completely into Mrs. 
 Melville's plan for the education of her 
 daughters; and by her experience, pru- 
 dent admonitions, and regularity of con- 
 duct and sweetness of temper, contributed 
 much to their improvement. 
 
 In this little circle Charles found the 
 time pass very agreeably; he played at 
 backgammon with the colonel, at chess 
 with Miss Melville or her mother, and 
 was sometimes induced to romp with the 
 lively and rattling Louisa : then there was 
 music, and occasionally a dance in the 
 evening, a new publication to read and 
 criticize, with such variety in their amuse- 
 ments, that four weeks had stole away
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 189 
 
 before Charles was aware of the lapse of 
 time. He attributed this to the friend- 
 ship of the colonel, and the frank hospi- 
 tality of JNIrs, Melville. But had our 
 youthful hero been a little more acquaint- 
 ed with his own heart, he would have 
 given the fascinating eyes of Emma due 
 credit for their influence, and might justly 
 have exclaimed — " With thee conversing, 
 I forget all time !" 
 
 When Charles played at chess with Mrs. 
 Melville, he was generally conqueror; but 
 by Emma he was as commonly vanquish- 
 ed. One evening the colonel was engaged 
 by himself in writing; Charles had played 
 a fev/ games with Mrs. Melville, in all of 
 which he was victor : she quitted her seat 
 to Emma, who now took up the doughty 
 champion, and after several games, drove 
 him from the field, without his having ac- 
 quired a single laurel. 
 
 Miss Courtenay and little Anne were 
 present when the last was finished, when 
 Anne, addressing her governess, said — 
 " Dear Miss Courtenay, I have been
 
 190 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 musing about something which I cannot 
 understand; will you explain it to me?** 
 
 " What is it, my love?" said Miss 
 Courtenay. 
 
 " You know," said Anne, with arch 
 simplicity, " that mamma always beats 
 Emma at chess, and Charles generally de- 
 feats mamma; but Emma almost con- 
 stantly conquers him : now, how does it 
 happen, that among all the three, the 
 worst player generally conquers the best ?" 
 
 This question surprised more than one 
 in the company : Charles blushed, al- 
 though he knew not why ; and Emma's 
 eyes beamed with chastened lustre. 
 
 " Indeed, Anne, you reason very logi- 
 cally," replied Miss Courtenay, smiling; 
 " but T cannot give you a satisfactory an- 
 swer; although I should imagine that your 
 mamma and Miss Melville play in a dif- 
 ferent manner, and that there must be 
 something in Emma's mode of playing to 
 which Charles has not been accustomed." 
 
 " Oh, like enough I" cried Anne, with 
 much naivete^ " for I see him often look
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 191 
 
 as if he did not know what he was about." 
 This artless observation extorted a smile 
 from JNIiss Courtenay, and an arch laugh 
 from Louisa, while Emma and Charles 
 blushed deeply. 
 
 A sense of duty, rather than inclination, 
 prompted our hero's departure ; and he 
 returned to Glenthorn, where his arrival 
 had been fondly anticipated. He was now 
 no longer treated as a boy, but as a man; 
 while the qualities of his mind and heart 
 were such as every day endeared him 
 more warmly, and increased the parental 
 tenderness and affection of his protectors. 
 For Charles was, according to his age, now 
 well informed ; had a reflecting turn of 
 mind, similar to that of Mr. Angus, al- 
 though not so much prone to taciturnity, 
 and of a less phlegmatic disposition. He 
 also possessed a warm heart and quick 
 feelings, whose influence he could seldom 
 resist : these were so powerful recommen- 
 dations with Ellen, that they would have 
 almost proved an apology for any indis- 
 cretions that they might have produced.
 
 192 FOUXDLINC; OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 On the second day after his return from 
 Beech wood, as they sat in the parlour, 
 Mrs. Angus said — *' We have I:ad many 
 inquiries after you, Charles, during your 
 absence, among which a woman has been 
 twice here, most anxious to see you." 
 
 Charles expressed his surprise, and ea- 
 gerly inquired who or what she was, as 
 he knew none of that sex who would come 
 to Glenthorn upon his account. Ellen 
 affected much mystery about the matter, 
 and at last spoke of her as a blooming and 
 accomplished young lady, but pretended 
 neither to know her name, nor the pur- 
 port of her visit ; and Charles, discovering 
 that she wished to teaze him, ceased to 
 inquire farther about the subject. 
 
 In a little, Mrs. Angus was called out, 
 and returned soon after, introducing two 
 women — one of whom was a tall, bloom- 
 ing girl, apparently about eighteen, re- 
 markably clean and neat in her dress, 
 which, from its plainness, indicated that 
 she was of inferior station : the other was 
 an old woman, and appeared to be her
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 193 
 
 mother. — " I told you, Charles," said El- 
 len, " that you had been sought after ; see, 
 here are two visitors, who have come for 
 the express purpose of seeing you ;" and 
 she requested them to be seated. 
 
 Both were strangers to Charles, who 
 said, he had not the pleasure of their ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 " Oh, sir, but you had the pleasure of 
 savin' my lassie's life, o'er muckle to your 
 ain cost !" said the old woman ; " mony a 
 sa't tear ha'e we baith shed for your mis- 
 fortune ; an' glad are we now to see you 
 sae weel recovered. Although late o' 
 comin' to thank you, sir, it's no a'thegither 
 our fau't ; for I've been sair disappointed 
 in no seein' you afore now ; an' that day's 
 never gaen o'er our heads sin' it happened, 
 that you ha'ena been in our minds, an' 
 upon our tongues too; but Dan Norval 
 told us, as he passed this mornin', that you 
 were come hame, an' Susie proposed co- 
 min' wi' me. — * For,' said she, *' I'm in- 
 debted to him for my life, an' I wish to 
 
 VOL. T. K
 
 194 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 offer my thanks, an' it can never be done 
 sae properly as in your company, mither.' 
 I felt that the lassie was right (for Susie 
 has a sense o' propriety, an', by the bye, 
 she says you have that too) ; sae we just 
 came awa' the gither; for I thought ye 
 mith na be ill pleased to see the stately 
 cummer, for whom you had maistlins met 
 a watery grave. There's mair bluid in 
 her cheek, an' mair life in her e'e, than 
 there was that night when they trailed 
 her through the faem." 
 
 There was certainly blood enough in 
 the girl's cheek ; for her mother's dis- 
 course had crimsoned it over with the 
 genuine blush of modesty ; and her down- 
 cast eye seemed a spark of fire, swimming 
 in liquid silver. Charles advanced, took 
 her hand, and in a gentle voice expressed 
 I lis liopes that she had completely reco- 
 vered her shipwreck, and the alarm which 
 it had occasioned. 
 
 Susan blushed still deeper, and with a 
 soft and modest, although somewhat tre- 
 mulous accent, replied — " I thank you.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 195 
 
 sir, I am quite well. Oh, Mr. Melville ! 
 I cannot express what I feel towards you ! 
 May Heaven bless and reward you !" 
 
 " Dear me, Susie ! ye're unco' bashfu' 
 the day, an' canna look the gentleman i' 
 the face wha run sic a risk for you," said 
 her mother ; " but Susie's a douce lassie, 
 Mrs. Angus, although she were na mine. 
 An' though ye hadna saved a life that 
 night but her ain, sir, I trust, whan you 
 look upon her bonnie face, ye'll be proud 
 o' your work; forby the sair heart that 
 ye've saved her auld mither frae ; for this 
 is now a' the comfort that I ha'e i' the 
 warld. But oh, Mrs. Angus, we ha'e 
 baith muckle cause to be proud of our 
 bairns; for there's no a kindlier- hearted, 
 or a better behaved lassie than Susie, in a* 
 the parish." 
 
 Here Susan blushed, and rose to depart, 
 crying — " Come away, mother !" 
 
 " What's the matter wi' you, lassie ?" 
 cried her mother. " My very heart warms 
 whan I look upo' Mr. Melville ; forby a' 
 K 2
 
 19(5 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 that he's done for you an' me, there's no 
 sic a stately, strappin' lad in a' Shuttledale, 
 neither gentle nor semple; an' syne there's 
 his warm heart an' furthy conduct; but 
 it's just the marrow o' your ain, Mrs. An- 
 gus; for you're a blessin' to the country 
 side; an' mony ane will miss you whan 
 your hour comes, but I houp it will be 
 lang to the day ; an' if Mr. Melville con- 
 tiinie as he bodes, he'll fill your room : 
 I'm sure if the blessin' o' me an' mine can 
 be heard, he has them baith already, an' 
 they sha'na be forgotten to our dyin' day." 
 
 The garrulity of the old woman was 
 not relished by her daughter, who conti- 
 nued to blush and hold down her head 
 till their departure. 
 
 Susan Tait was the only child of Elspa 
 JNliller, a widow ; they lived in a lone cot- 
 tage, bounded on one side by a fir wood, 
 belonging to Dubby Moss, and on the 
 others by a heath, the road from Shuttle- 
 dale to Glenthorn passing in front of the 
 cottage. Susan had an aunt in Edin- 
 burgh, with whom she had resided for
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 197 
 
 nearly three years, and who had given 
 her an education superior to her rank; 
 and as to a fine face and stature, she added 
 a corresponding propriety of behaviour, 
 she was admired and envied by most of 
 the beaux and belles in the parish. For 
 a considerable time past she had waited 
 upon her aunt in Edinburgh, who having 
 paid the debt of nature, left to Susan ma- 
 ny valuable articles, besides about an hun- 
 dred pounds in money. She put a large 
 chest, containing the bulky part of her 
 legacy, on board the Argus, intending to 
 come home by land; but the advice of 
 the captain, fine weather, and the short- 
 ness of the voyage, induced her to accom- 
 pany him, when she narrowly escaped 
 shipwreck, as has been already related.
 
 198 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOKN. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 For he was of that noble trade, 
 
 The deini-gods and heroes made ; 
 
 Slaughter and knocking on the head. 
 
 The trade to which they all were bred ; 
 
 And is, like others, glorious when 
 
 lis great and large, but base if mean. Bdtllr. 
 
 Old Subjects placed in a nezv Light 
 
 Charles had resumed his studies with 
 Mr. Eeclesfield, which he expected a few 
 months would now complete; and his 
 mind became absorbed in thoughts of his 
 future destiny. Colonel INIelville conti- 
 nued his kindness, but had never again 
 mentioned the army, nor made any allu- 
 sion to the subject, and Charles became 
 rather melancholy. He had formed an 
 acquaintance with the misanthrope, and 
 their occasional interviews had no tenden- 
 cy to elevate his spirits; for James al-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 199 
 
 ways viewed the world through a medium 
 coloured by his own feelings; and these 
 (in the opinion of most people) generally 
 presented objects in a false light, or dis- 
 torted the figures as they passed in review 
 before him. 
 
 Our hero was one evening passing an 
 hour with this singular character, when 
 he happened to express his admiration of 
 Julius Caesar, upon which the misanthrope 
 said — " And for what quality of mind has 
 Ccesar acquired so large a portion of your 
 esteem ?" 
 
 " For his valour and heroism," replied 
 Charles. 
 
 " Have you reflected how they were 
 employed ?" 
 
 " Was it not in promoting the aggran- 
 dizement of his country?" 
 
 " Granted ; but it was an aggrandize- 
 ment founded upon injustice, and carried 
 into effect by violence — the power of the 
 strong plundering and oppressing the 
 weak." 
 
 ** The Romans were a great and brave
 
 200 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 people, and were not to be insulted with 
 impunity." 
 
 " Young man, you allow yourself to be 
 deceived by specious appearances: before 
 this subject can be discussed, we must be- 
 gin at the beginning ; this, by the bye, is 
 too often neglected in matters of more im- 
 portance than argument. Now, tell me, 
 what were these mighty and brave objects 
 of your admiration originally ?" 
 
 " I think the obscurity of their origin, 
 and the narrow space that they first occu- 
 pied, establishes their claim to the applause 
 which I and the world at large bestow 
 upon them." 
 
 " Would you applaud a pestilence which 
 broke out in some obscure alley, where 
 no one could tell how it had come, but 
 from which it spread over, not only a city, 
 but a kingdom, carrying death on its 
 wings, and leaving devastation in its 
 train ?" 
 
 " I do not understand your allusion." 
 
 " Well, to make the case plain — go 
 back into the History of England, as far
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 201 
 
 as the period of the Saxon Heptarchy; 
 and instead of seven kingdoms, suppose it 
 (for the sake of illustration) divided into 
 fifty, each of which existed perfectly inde- 
 pendent of any other; acknowledging no 
 sovereign but its own, governed by its 
 own laws, and preserving its own man- 
 ners and customs ; the inabitants living in 
 security and contentment, cultivating their 
 fields amidst the enjoyments that spring 
 from peace and domestic felicity. Among 
 these petty kings is one more restless 
 than the others; he views with covetous 
 eye the pleasant meadows and fruitful 
 fields of a contiguous monarch : this am- 
 bitious man imagines, that by calling out 
 and arming his vassals, he shall be able to 
 defeat, and ultimately dispossess, his quiet 
 and unoffending neighbour : he makes the 
 attempt, and succeeds, after perhaps one- 
 half of the invaded territory have fallen 
 in defence of their liberties, and all that 
 they held dear in life — their dying mo- 
 ments imbittered by the sight of their ha- 
 K3
 
 202 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOHN. 
 
 bitations in flames, while the cries of their 
 wives and children resounded in their ears : 
 probably as many have fallen on the side 
 of the conqueror, to gratify the rapacity, 
 or promote the grandeur of a restless man, 
 who has now by the accession of territory 
 only become more ambitious, and in pro- 
 portion more dangerous to his neighbours : 
 he attempts the invasion of another state, 
 and again succeeds, carrying death and 
 devastation before him. He has now 
 more acres of land, and can call out a 
 greater number of vassals than any chief 
 around him ; but while his people have 
 been engaged in making these conquests 
 for him, the cultivation of their fields has 
 been neglected ; they want the means of 
 living, and become discontented. Again 
 he leads them out — another neighbour is 
 vanquished, whose property and lands are 
 divided among the conquerors, wlio being 
 now inured to robbery and carnage, begin 
 to despise the quiet and humbler comforts 
 of peace and domestic labour ; rapine and 
 plunder are executed with greater facility ;
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 203 
 
 they proclaim their leader a hero, and 
 he marches at the head of a banditti, pro- 
 ceeding in the work of destruction, carry- 
 ing fire and sword over a still more ex- 
 tended circle ; while thousands have fallen 
 around him, and smoking ruins, mourn- 
 ing widows, and weeping orphans, are the 
 trophies of his victory. Every neighbour 
 is now alarmed, and a few of the most 
 contiguous form a defensive alliance for 
 the common safety: this constitutes an 
 ostensible cause of quarrel in the eyes of 
 the oppressor, who wants only a fair pre- 
 text for. renewing the horrible warfare. 
 It is unnecessary to extend the disgraceful 
 picture ; for there you must already have 
 recognised the resemblance of the brave 
 and puissant Caesar, and the glories of the 
 Roman empire." 
 
 " You intend it to be so ; but have made 
 all the aggression to spring from one side. 
 May not the offender be sometimes justly 
 punished by the loss of his property ?" 
 
 " Charles, this is begging the question.
 
 204 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 You are sufficiently aware that Rome was 
 generally, I bad almost said universally, 
 up to the commencement of her decline, 
 the first aggressor; but, without going in- 
 to her early history, look at your idol, 
 Ca?sar : bow had Britain offended him ? — 
 What, but restless ambition, prompted the 
 invasion of that remote island ? You will 
 perhaps reply, that it was a wish to aggran- 
 dize his country. I tell you it was, that 
 he might add to the splendour with which 
 the name of Csesar was surrounded. The 
 much-admired veni, vidi, vici, of that war- 
 rior, is a specimen of the most arrogant 
 boasting to be found in the annals of his- 
 tory. Depend upon it, Charles, that, to 
 an ambitious man, the happiness of his 
 country is only a secondary object. Is it 
 for the happiness of a people, to have their 
 sons led out by a restless and insatiable 
 conqueror, and having butchered thou- 
 sands of their species, to fall themselves in 
 a foreign land ? Neither is conquest for 
 the prosperity of a state ; a body may
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 205 
 
 be made so large as to fall in pieces by- 
 its own weight; and was not this the 
 case with the Roman empire? Long 
 before its dissolution, it was so much 
 extended, that there was room for men 
 of tajent and ambitious views to cul- 
 tivate the art of war, and gain the affec- 
 tions of the soldiers, unknown to the go- 
 vernment at Rome, by which means, often 
 combined with every breach of public 
 trust and private friendship, they attained 
 the summit of their wishes — the imperial 
 purple. But the very men whom they 
 had considered as machines or puppets 
 moved upon wires at their pleasure, be- 
 came convinced of their own importance, 
 and, in their turn, sacrificed their leaders, 
 and gave masters to Rome. The game 
 was now reversed, and the nominal empe- 
 ror was only a splendid toy, fixed upon 
 springs, moved by a ferocious and licen- 
 tious army, till at last the diadem was ex- 
 posed to public sale ; and wealth alone put 
 it in the power of a knave, a monster, or 
 an idiot, to call himself emperor of the
 
 $106 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 world. Such was Rome, and such were 
 the heroes and conquerors held up by the 
 unreflecting, to be imitated and admired 
 by mankind. 
 
 " Look at that madman, Alexander, 
 who conquered kingdoms for the pleasure, 
 or rather the vanity, of giving them away. 
 What had he to do in India? or what 
 must his heart have been, to cry like a 
 great baby, when there was no room tor 
 him to perpetrate more mischief, and pro- 
 duce a still greater quantum of human 
 misery ? Upon this subject, I recom- 
 mend to your perusal a sensible and inge- 
 nious paper in the Adventurer, in which 
 a parallel is drawn between Alexander, 
 falsely called the Great, and Bagshot, a 
 highwayman and murderer, which will, 1 
 trust, serve to convince you, that 
 
 Millions a hero. Princes are privileged 
 To kill ; and numbers sanctify the crime.' 
 
 " This, sir, is, and will yet long continue 
 to be, the opinion of the many, whose sight
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 207 
 
 is dazzled with splendid gewgaws, and 
 whose ears are tickled with the obstrep^- 
 roiis voice of fame. It is thus that men 
 are led by their external senses, and the 
 most imposing objects become the most 
 fascinating ; for peace and domestic happi- 
 ness are felt, rather than seen; and the 
 whispers of Reason are too faint to reach 
 the heart, amidst the clang of trumpets, 
 the rattling of the conqueror's chariot 
 wheels, and the intoxicated ravings and 
 mad huzzas of a gaping multitude. 
 
 " I tell you, Charles, that war, under- 
 taken for the purpose of conquest, is al- 
 ways criminal. Its primary cause is ge- 
 nerally, what has been already stated, to 
 gratify the ambition of some hot-brained 
 maniac, who has * method in his madness,' 
 or sometimes to divert the attention of a 
 people from the conduct of their rulers at 
 home, and give another channel to that 
 ebuUition of discontent which is ready to 
 burst forth. Still if war for this purpose 
 is countenanced by the people, they are 
 Worse than fools— -they are wicked.
 
 208 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 " War, sir, can only be justified by the 
 nation which takes up arms in its own 
 defence ; and he only is a hero, who chases 
 the invader from his home, or gloriously 
 falls in the attempt. Cincinnatus and a 
 few others among the ancients, and Wal- 
 lace and Bruce among the moderns of our 
 own country, are worthy of this appella- 
 tion, and highly deserving of being ex- 
 cepted from that beadroll of names, who 
 have in every age continued to disturb 
 and desolate the world ; but so few have 
 these redeeming spirits been, that they^ 
 shine Uke solitary stars in a murky sky, 
 their brightness only serving to deepen 
 the gloom by which they are surrounded." 
 
 " But may not a barbarous nation be 
 improved, in being subjugated by a people 
 more civilized?" said Charles. 
 
 " That, sir, is ' doing evil tliat good 
 may come.' Were you to burn down my 
 cottage, and destroy my children in the 
 conflagration, although you afterwards 
 reared for me a splendid mansion upon its 
 ruins, would any man have the eiFrontery
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 209 
 
 to tell me that my happiness had been 
 promoted by the change ?" 
 
 " I do not think your simile very appo- 
 site; however, in reply, I would say, that 
 your descendants might find their situation 
 improved, and their comforts increased, by 
 the changes introduced." 
 
 " Now, Charles, is it reasonable, is it 
 just, that I should suffer a positive evil, 
 for the chance of a contingent good to 
 my posterity? which still may be very 
 problematical ; for I suspect that you and 
 I would differ in our opinions respecting 
 what constitutes the happiness of a people. 
 Ignorance of wealth I pronounce to be a 
 blessing, and luxury a curse, as creating 
 artificial wants, producing effeminacy, and 
 many other concomitant evils. But this 
 is entering upon a new subject, and a 
 field by far too wide to be explored at 
 present ; we will therefore decline any 
 further discussion." 
 
 Charles took leave of the misanthrope, 
 and as he walked home, began to doubt 
 whether some of the ideas which he had
 
 210 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 formed were well founded. He went to 
 bed in a pensive mood ; but soon fell 
 asleep, during which the visions of fancy 
 clothed him in military array, while lie 
 supported a pair of colours, committed to 
 his charge by the fair hands of Emma 
 Melville, whose eyes spoke unutterable 
 things ; and the conversation with James 
 Roy seemed a dream from which he was 
 glad to awake, while his present illusion 
 appeared the delightful reality of life. 
 
 The young laird of Dubby Moss still con- 
 tinued at school, and his dislike to Charles 
 had grown into confirmed hatred. The 
 events which occurred on the evening of 
 the shipwreck had wrung his heart with 
 anguish. He cursed Charles for his offi- 
 cious interference in his behalf, and would 
 have undergone the intended punishment, 
 rather than have been indebted to him for 
 deliverance. Then there was the dclat 
 which Charles had acquired by his forti- 
 tude ; for old and young, rich and poor, 
 were loud in his praises, the very echoes 
 of which rung a horrid knell in the ears
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 211 
 
 of Fergus, whose heart writhed in the 
 bitterness of envy. This baneful passion 
 he was at no pains to check ; but, on the 
 contrary, nursed it with malignant de- 
 light; and every day added something to 
 its growth ; for in proportion as Charles 
 was popular among his companions, Ned 
 Fergus became an object of dislike. He 
 had indeed contrived to gain a few parti- 
 sans, by awakening their aristocratic pride, 
 to contemplate the obscurity in which the 
 birth of his rival was involved, and the 
 celebrity with which he was surrounded. 
 
 It had been proposed and agreed to 
 among the scholars, to make Mr. Eccles- 
 field a present of a silver snuffbox, with a' 
 suitable inscription; the box was ready, 
 and it was resolved that such as were 
 grown up should meet at the Buck's 
 Head, and treat their teacher with a sup- 
 per upon the occasion. Fergus was very 
 anxious that he should have the honour 
 of presenting the box ; but the contri- 
 butors, by a great majority of votes, no- 
 minated Charles for that office. This was
 
 212 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 pouring additional poison into the rank- 
 ling wound; Fergus, and the few ad- 
 herents whom he had been able to mus- 
 ter, did not attend the supper, but retired 
 to meditate a scheme of revenge upon 
 Charles. After much cogitation, they 
 could devise nothing better than to way- 
 lay him on Saturday as he passed to Glen- 
 thorn, and give him a sound drubbing. 
 
 The spot for this scene was fixed at a 
 certain point in a lane between two woods, 
 through which he had to pass. Although 
 they imagined that their plot was secretly 
 laid, yet it was divulged by one of the 
 party, and soon reached the ears of a 
 friend to our hero, by whom it was com- 
 municated to others, and resolutions im- 
 mediately formed to protect him, and pu- 
 nish the conspirators; but it was deter- 
 mined that Charles should be kept alike 
 ignorant of the machinations of his ene- 
 mies, and the intentions of his friends. 
 The assailants were to be half a dozen ; 
 but lest they should gain over more allies, 
 half a score of the popular party set off,
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 213 
 
 and, by a circuitous route, reached the spot 
 where the attack was to be made, and had 
 the good fortune to secrete themselves 
 within ear-shot of the enemy, and where 
 they could distinctly perceive all their 
 motions. 
 
 Charles approached, quite unconscious 
 of the ambush that was laid for him : in a 
 moment the conspirators rushed out, and 
 sprung upon him like as many wolves 
 upon their prey: from their number, the 
 fury of their attack, and the malignant 
 disposition of their leader, it is probable 
 that our hero's life would have been in 
 danger; but his friends instantly darted 
 upon the enemy, and in a moment secured 
 all of them in firm hold. The auxiliaries 
 of Charles had arranged their plan, and 
 prepared every thing before leaving Shut- 
 tledale : they disdained to beat the cow- 
 ardly assassins; but tying their hands 
 firmly behind their backs, led every one 
 to a tree, placing them fronting each other 
 on opposite sides of the lane ; every man 
 was then bound fast to a tree, and their
 
 214 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORX. 
 
 faces covered with the contents of an ink- 
 bottle, while a fool's cap was placed upon 
 the head of their leader, as a badge of pre- 
 eminence. Thus leaving them, objects of 
 sport, or compassion, to the first passenger, 
 the auxiliaries of Charles retired into the 
 wood, and he proceeded to Glenthorn. 
 
 In the course of the week ,^ colonel Mel- 
 ville had waited upon Mr. and Mrs. An- 
 gus, and in the most delicate but friendly 
 manner, promoted a conversation concern- 
 ing the future destiny of Charles, and his 
 establishment in life, hinting what he be- 
 lieved to be the wish of their protege^ and 
 kindly offering his assistance. 
 
 Charles was now so dear to Ellen, that 
 she could not, without emotion, contem- 
 plate the possibility of his being a soldier, 
 where, exclusive of the danger to which 
 he would be exposed, she should be de- 
 prived of the.pleasure which she enjoyed 
 in seeing and conversing with him ; but 
 entertaining a just sense of colonel Mel- 
 ville's friendship, she expressed her warm- 
 est thanks, and promised to take an early
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 215 
 
 opportunity of talking with Charles on 
 this important subject. 
 
 On his arrival this evening, JNIr. Angus, 
 after some general conversation, observed, 
 that there was just now an excellent farm 
 to let in the neighbourhood, and that, in 
 his opinion, it might be an advantageous 
 establishment for Charles. 
 
 " What could I do' with a farm ? I 
 know nothing about agriculture; besides, 
 I have no capital," said Charles. 
 
 " I shall answer your last objection 
 first," said IMr. Angus, " by affirming that 
 you have a capital ; there can be no doubt 
 of the money lodged in the bank being 
 yours; the interest has done more than 
 kept you, and the principal is now accu- 
 mulated to a sum quite sufficient for your 
 purpose. Respecting your want of skill 
 as a farmer, your contiguity to Glenthorn 
 would affi^rd you the benefit of my best 
 advice and experience, and at the same 
 time give me a most sincere pleasure in 
 exercising them for your advantage." 
 
 " I am dce})ly sensible of all your good-
 
 216 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 ness," replied Charles ; " but I beg that 
 you will patiently hear, and deliberately 
 weigh, my objections, which are, I believe, 
 unalterable. I have long made up my 
 mind not to touch a penny of the money 
 you mention, till at least a reasonable 
 proof appears that it is mine; and I con- 
 sider myself indebted to you for all that 
 I have received from my infancy ; the pe- 
 cuniary part fortune may yet enable me 
 to discharge — your paternal care and love 
 I can never repay. Besides, I am still 
 nobody — the name that 1 bear is not 
 mine ; although, out of respect to your fa- 
 mily, I am treated with civility, yet all 
 who see me must think of me as a found- 
 ling, perhaps the child of infamy. I could 
 never acquire a proper place in society 
 here, and t feel that to remain, where I 
 should be exposed to the scorn of fools and 
 the whispers of the malicious, would be 
 impossible; I have therefore resolved 
 upon leaving the country, in whatever 
 capacity may appear most eligible. Co- 
 lonel Melville once gave me reason to ex-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 217 
 
 pect his assistance, and I am not yet in- 
 clined to doubt his sincerity. Should this 
 hope prove abortive, I must try some 
 other plan; but here I cannot, will not 
 remain." 
 
 ** And can you so rashly, so easily, re- 
 solve upon leaving us ?" said Ellen, taking 
 his hand. 
 
 " Oh ! call it not rashly, say not easily !" 
 cried Charles, with much emotion. " My 
 resolve is the result of much painful and 
 secret deliberation; and the hour which 
 parts me from you, will be loaded with 
 bitter anguish, which I already feel by an- 
 ticipation. Yes, my more than mother, I 
 
 shall ever " but his heart was too full, 
 
 he could not finish the sentence, and sat 
 covering his face with his hands. 
 
 However much his friends might regret 
 the resolution formed by Charles, they 
 saw the force of his arguments ; and know- 
 ing, as they did, his acute feelings and na- 
 tive dignity of mind, they were convinced 
 that no arguments could induce him to 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 change his opinion ; colonel Melville was 
 therefore informed of their reluctant con- 
 sent to the wishes of Charles, and his ad- 
 vice requested ; it being at the same time 
 suggested, that they were anxious not to 
 part with Charles till next spring at soon- 
 est. To this the colonel replied, that their 
 inclination would, in that respect, coincide 
 with his own ; for it was his wish and in- 
 tention to place Charles in his own regi- 
 ment, and there being no vacancy at pre- 
 sent, he could only avail himself of the 
 first opportunity, but that in the mean 
 time, all parties might rely upon his pro- 
 mise.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 219 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The sprightly bowl shall cheerfully go round ; 
 
 None shall be grave, nor too severely wise; 
 
 Losses and disappointments, cares and poverty, 
 
 The rich iniili's insolence, and great man's scorn, 
 
 In wine shall be forgotten all. To-morrow 
 
 Is time enough to think and to be wretched. Rowe. 
 
 A Sight of Pleasure produces Days of Suffering, 
 
 The young squire of Dubby Moss and 
 his coadjutors, whom we left in rather an 
 unpleasant situation, had stood for about 
 two hours in a state of shame and vex- 
 ation, fretting, fuming, and cursing witli 
 rage, while a warm summer sun darted 
 his rays full in the face of Fergus and his 
 two supporters, who were placed with 
 their faces exposed to that luminary. 
 
 The first who happened to pass were 
 an old woman and a little girl, both of 
 L 2
 
 220 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 whom were dreadfully alarmed at seeing 
 six men (for they were all grown-up lads) 
 in such a situation, and of such uncoutli 
 appearance. The captives requested to 
 be released ; but the women were afraid 
 to approach them. The old woman at 
 last mustered courage to ask who they 
 were, or how they came to be in that si- 
 tuation ? These questions they declined 
 answering ; but offered her a reward, if 
 she would liberate any one of them. In- 
 stead of complying with their wishes, the 
 females became more alarmed ; and hasten- 
 ing forward to the nearest village, spread 
 their wonderful report from one end of the 
 hamlet to the other. In consequence of 
 this strange tale, a posse of the inhabitants 
 turned out, and the prisoners, with the 
 prospect of freedom, had the mortification 
 of finding tliemselves objects of derision 
 to a score of gaping rustics, composed of 
 men, women, and idle boys. The young 
 laird, and some others, were soon recog- 
 nised, notwithstanding their sable meta- 
 morphosis ; and saying that their situation
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 221 
 
 was the result of an idle frolic, tliey were 
 emancipated, and immediately rushed into 
 the wood, without staying to thank their 
 liberators. The pride of Fergus and his 
 principal confederates was so deeply stung, 
 that they returned not to school ; besides, 
 they were afraid of the resentment of 
 Charles, and dreaded incurring still fur- 
 ther disgrace on his account. 
 
 It was not intended that our hero should 
 resume his studies after the autumnal va- 
 cation ; for he had proceeded as far as Mr. 
 Ecclesfield could point the way. The 
 few weeks soon passed, and the day came 
 on which he was to take leave of his teach- 
 er and schoolfellows ; among the latter, 
 those that were grown up regretted the 
 loss of a pleasant companion, and the 
 younger class felt that they were to be 
 deprived of a fiiend and protector. 
 
 Exclusive of his select school compa- 
 nions, Charles had several acquaintances 
 in Shuttledale, and proposed treating them 
 \vith a supper before he left town. They 
 accordingly met in the Buck's Head one
 
 222 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 evening, and several hours passed with 
 hilarity and decorum. Charles, anxious 
 to make his guests happy, promoted 
 the circulation of the glass with much 
 frankness and good humour, which gra- 
 dually increased, and they passed a night 
 of fun and frolic, keeping it up till the 
 first blushes of morn began to tinge the 
 eastern sky. Some of the most sedate 
 proposed that they should retire ; others 
 were for prolonging the sitting, and Charles, 
 totally unaccustomed to the excitement 
 produced by strong liquor, was much in- 
 toxicated ; but being of a strong constitu- 
 tion, his senses only were disordered. 
 He entreated, and afterwards commanded, 
 the company to remain ; rung the bell fu- 
 riously, vociferating for more liquor, and 
 insisting upon being immediately obeyed. 
 It was in vain that his companions at- 
 tempted to remonstrate ; every kind of 
 opposition only rendered him more de- 
 termined. Seating himself next the door, 
 he prohibited all egress, and making a 
 full bowl, insisted in a peremptory tone
 
 FOUNDLING OF GI.ENTHORN. 223 
 
 that all should sit round it and drink fair. 
 This mandate most of the company en- 
 deavoured to evade ; but our hero, whose 
 powers of vision were still unimpaired, 
 became quite furious at so flagrant a con- 
 tempt of his authority; and one of his 
 friends sending in his glass not empty, he 
 seized it, and tossed the contents hi the 
 gentleman's face. All were now aware 
 of his temporary delirium, and unwilling 
 to take offence, endeavoured to restrain, 
 rather than resent, the effects of his frenzy. 
 The glasses were again filled, and violent 
 denunciations threatened against all who 
 refused to join him in a bumper. Every 
 attempt to sooth him proved futile; and 
 one young man having affirmed that he 
 would drink no more, Charles was about 
 to dash the bowl in his face, when the 
 person next him arrested his arm; he 
 started indignantly to his feet, and struck 
 a blow at the lad who had so judiciously 
 interfered. He now began a most inco- 
 herent speech, in a style of great pompo- 
 sity and affected dignity, at which the
 
 224 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOUN. 
 
 company had much difficulty in suppress- 
 ing their risible emotions ; but aware that 
 laughter would increase his irritation, they 
 affected to listen with gravity and com- 
 posure. 
 
 A most intimate friend stood behind 
 Charles, and believing himself secure from 
 observation, and incited as much by the 
 solemn faces of his companions as the wild 
 rant of Charles, indulged his mirth in 
 most ludicrous grimaces, unfortunately 
 forgetting that there was a large mirror 
 opposite to our hero, who no sooner per- 
 ceived the laughter-loving face which it 
 exhibited, than he sprung up, and mistak- 
 ing the shadow for the substance, rushed 
 forward, made a stroke at the glass, which 
 he shivered into an hundred pieces, cut- 
 ting his knuckles to the bones : the crash 
 of the broken mirror seemed the spirit* 
 stirring sound that prompted to deeds of 
 desperate valour ; extending his arm across 
 the table, he swept from its surface bowls, 
 bottles, glasses, and decanters, till the 
 whole strewed the floor, a heap of glitter*
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 225 
 
 ing ruin; while the magnanimous hero, 
 with a look of triumph, set up a huzza, 
 which seemed to shake the house, calling 
 upon the company for three cheers. Con- 
 ceiving them not so prompt or unanimous 
 as he imagined the important occasion re- 
 quired, he lifted a chair, and pushing it for- 
 ward like a battering-ram, shivered a win- 
 dow into innumerable atoms : the crash of 
 the frame, and the clatter of the glass on 
 the pavement below, again elicited an- 
 other wild huzza, and his eye beamed with 
 frenzied delight as it glanced on the ruins 
 around him. 
 
 All was now uproar, and " confusion 
 worse confounded ;" for Charles began to 
 strike around him without aim or discri- 
 mination ; and although they contrived 
 to evade or ward off his blows, yet more 
 than one had been hit severely : still as 
 much common sense remained as pre- 
 vented them from wrathful resentment; 
 they closed round the redoubtable cham- 
 pion, and pinioned his arms close to his 
 l3
 
 226 FOUNDLINO OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 sides, pressing him into a chair, where he 
 was held down vi et a? mis, struggling and 
 fuming, till his rage having exhausted it- 
 self, he sunk forward with his head lean- 
 ing on the table, sick and insensible. 
 
 As the inhabitants were now beginning 
 to appear on the streets, no attempt was 
 made to take Charles home; he was there- 
 fore put to bed, while the company made 
 their egress w^ith all the quietness and 
 regularity which they could command on 
 the occasion. The broken window soon 
 attracted the attention of those who pass- 
 ed ; and there being in every place some 
 who have such a love for gossip that their 
 keenest enjoyment is in hearing a tale to 
 some one's disadvantage, always excepting 
 the still more exquisite pleasure which 
 they have in retailing it, the feats of 
 our hero furnished a topic of conversation 
 for the day, to half the male and female 
 idlers in Shuttledale. To prevent any 
 alarm from his absence, the landlady of 
 the Buck's Head (whose heart overflowed 
 with kindness to all her species) waited
 
 TOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 227 
 
 upon Mrs. Charters, stating the matter in 
 its most favourable light. ^^ -*'^^ 
 
 Charles had sunk into a most profound 
 sleep, and it was late in the afternoon be* 
 fore he awoke, with a stupor of brain, vio- 
 lent headache, and sick at heart : he was 
 astonished to find himself in a strange 
 room; and it was a considerable time^ be- 
 fore his still-clouded reason could so far 
 exercise her functions, as to call up the 
 recollection of meeting his friends on the 
 preceding evening: but of his wounded 
 hand, and the principal events that had 
 happened, he had no remembrance. His 
 mind now became alarmed lest somethintj^ 
 very serious might have taken place a- 
 mong his companions, since he was so en- 
 tirely ignorant concerning the cause of 
 what had occurred to himself He was 
 not, however, long kept in a state of sus- 
 pense; for a deputation from his friends 
 soon waited upon him, who having for 
 some time enjoyed his anxiety, which 
 they contrived to increase, by dark and 
 mysterious insinuations, at last told him
 
 228 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 the truth, with some embelHshments, 
 which had no tendency to allay his appre- 
 hensions. The dignified and honourable 
 mind of Charles was now in a state which 
 few would have envied: he felt that he 
 had degraded himself to a level with the 
 inferior animals of creation, in depriving 
 himself of reason, the distinguishing pre- 
 rogative of his species; and in this de- 
 graded state, what might he not have ut- 
 tered derogatory to the characters of his 
 absent friends, or offensive to those who 
 were present? or what personal injury 
 might he not have inflicted? He was 
 told that he had insulted and struck more 
 than one of the company, and felt that he 
 himself was wounded. Conjecture was 
 lost in revolving what he might have said 
 or done ; but enough was clear, even to 
 his cloudy perceptions, that he had dis- 
 graced himself, insulted his youthful 
 friends, and, what was still more painful, 
 the tale would be told to his friends at 
 Glenthorn, in a manner which must deep- 
 ly wound their feelings. How should he
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 2fll9 
 
 dare to meet the sedate and temperate Mr. 
 Angus ? or how raise his eyes to encoun- 
 ter the sorrowful glance which would flash 
 silent reproach from the animated eyes of 
 Ellen? Colonel Melville too, who had 
 promised his patronage, when he believed 
 him a steady young man, would withdraw 
 it, now that he discovered him to be a de- 
 bauched and frantic boy. Even Ned Fer- 
 gus, whom he had held in contempt, and 
 taught others to despise, would triumph 
 in his degradation ; he would now have a 
 tale to tell which could not be contradict- 
 ed. At this moment it was probable 
 that his name was a subject for the rude 
 laughter of the mob ; and his disgraceful 
 fall a theme of regret among those who 
 had honoured him with their esteem. 
 
 Such were the cogitations which racked 
 the mind of Charles ; and his physical sys- 
 tem was in no better condition — intoler- 
 able headache, nausea, vertigo, sickness, 
 and tremour of the nerves, were all in com- 
 bination to punish with severity the in- 
 temperance and folly of which he had been
 
 230 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 guilty. He rung the bell, and his kind 
 landlady appeared. Charles wished a glass 
 of water: she pressed him to have some 
 tea, which was soon brought, but he could 
 not swallow it. A cold sweat started from 
 his brow ; for some minutes be thought 
 himself dying, and felt a delight in the 
 conviction. The fit subsided, and his 
 mental anguish returned. He was anx- 
 ious to be at his lodgings, but afraid to 
 see Mr. and Mrs. Charters, and also a- 
 shamed to appear upon the street ; for he 
 imagined that every eye would be turned 
 upon him, and he fancied that the laugh 
 of derision resounded in his ears. 
 
 Unable to suppress his feelings, he men- 
 tioned his wishes and fears to his landla- 
 dy, who, to real good-hearted ness, added 
 an abundance of small talk, in a style 
 which, although it might sometimes wea- 
 ry, could never offend her hearers. She 
 endeavoured to console him, without at- 
 tempting to varnish over his deviation; 
 for be it recorded to her credit, she would 
 at all times have felt more pleasure in the
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 281 
 
 guest who spent only a shilling and left 
 the Buck's Head sober, than in him who 
 sported his guinea, and departed in a state 
 of intoxication. She strongly urged 
 Charles to take warning from the present, 
 and be upon his guard for the future: 
 she recommended sending for Mr, Char- 
 ters, and talking over the subject, which 
 would smooth the way before him; for 
 Mrs. Charters was not only economical, 
 but even miserly ; and the reports which 
 she might have heard of his folly and ex- 
 travagance were most likely to produce a 
 torrent of vituperation. 
 
 Mr. Charters, although temperate and 
 of very regular habits, was a man ac- 
 quainted with human nature ; and know- 
 ing the manly and sensible mind of Charles, 
 reflecting also that this deviation most 
 probably arose from the want of experi- 
 ence, his mind was prepared to excuse, 
 rather than reproach him ; indeed, he con- 
 sidered it, upon the whole, as perhaps a 
 lucky blunder, as its enormity would 
 most probably prevent a repetition of the
 
 232 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 irregularity. Such were his early thoughts 
 on the matter ; and when he saw and con- 
 versed with Charles, who poured out as it 
 were his whole soul before him, his opi- 
 nion was confirmed: hence the admonito- 
 ry lecture which he had prepared was 
 considered unnecessary ; for at present it 
 seemed sufficient to " leave him to Hea- 
 ven, and to the thorns that in his bosom 
 lodged." 
 
 ^f r. Charters sat with Charles till twi- 
 light, and they walked home together. 
 Mrs. Charters could always interpret her 
 husband's looks, and saw that she was ex- 
 pected to behave kindly on the present 
 occasion. Charles felt his head heavy, and 
 his heart sick ; he therefore made a short 
 apology to Mrs. Charters, and bitterly ex- 
 ecrating his own conduct, retired to his 
 chamber. 
 
 He welcomed the approach of night : 
 ah, how different from the last ! Diseased 
 both in body and mind, he tossed and 
 tumbled ; and when " tired Nature's sweet 
 restorer" visited his pillow, it was not to
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 2$S 
 
 rest on " lids unsullied with a tear;" for 
 he had wept over his folly, and his slum- 
 bers were broken by the incoherent wan- 
 derings of imagination. When he awoke, 
 the mild beams of the morning-sun were 
 shining through the window, but he hail- 
 ed them not with delight. — " If such," 
 cried he, " is the expence at which the 
 pleasures of dissipation are to be purchas- 
 ed, never again shall I pay the dreadful 
 price !" He arose ; but although panting 
 to inhale the refreshing breeze, was asham* 
 ed to be seen ; and stealing out, paced the 
 garden behind the house with hurried and 
 unequal steps, till summoned to breakfast: 
 he finished a hasty and scanty meal, and 
 seeking the most secret way, fled from 
 " the cheerful haunts of men ;" nor did he 
 pause, or look to the right or left, till he 
 had left the busy town far behind him. 
 
 The only noise that now interrupted 
 his meditations was the gentle murmurs 
 of the green wave, which rolled at his feet; 
 and the only object that attracted his 
 sight was the sea-bird, skimming lightly
 
 234 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 along the surface of the water, or riding 
 on the surge, her bosom proudly rising to 
 the undulating wave. Here he continued 
 to plod along, almost unconscious in what 
 direction, plunged in melancholy musings ; 
 but his thoughts were a chaos which he 
 could not reduce into order ; and although 
 he endeavoured to divert his mind from 
 the subject which haunted him, yet it was 
 divided and subdivided into so many ra- 
 mifications, and was so intimately con- 
 nected with every associating idea which 
 he could muster, that he sought in vain to 
 escape from the arrow that was lodged in 
 his breast. Oftener than once he had 
 stumbled upon fragments of rock, that lay 
 unobserved before him, or plunged into 
 pools left by the receding tide. 
 
 It was in this mood that our hero, upon 
 turning the jutting angle of a shelving 
 rock, saw the misanthrope a few yards be- 
 fore him, apparently employed in picking 
 up shells, or collecting pebbles. The first 
 impulse on the mind of Charles was to 
 turn back and avoid him ; but a moment's
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 285 
 
 reflection shewed that this would be pu- 
 sillanimous, and might give offence to the 
 feelings of James, who had by this time 
 observed him. This man's conversation 
 had also afforded him pleasure in happier 
 hours : might it not at present deliver him 
 from worse company — namely, his own ? 
 Hoping that James was ignorant of all 
 that he was vainly striving to forget, he 
 approached and saluted him with an air 
 of cheerfulness, inquiring whether he still 
 found new varieties in his choncological 
 studies ? 
 
 " My pursuits," replied James, " are so 
 varied, incongruous, and irregular, that to 
 dignify them with the name of studies, 
 would be an appellation which they do 
 not deserve, and would reflect an honour 
 upon me of which I an unworthy. The 
 only title they merit is that of * cheap 
 pleasures;' and I have no claim to any 
 character more respectable than that of 
 • an innocent idler." 
 
 Charles heaved a deep sigh, which he 
 had endeavoured to suppress, and replied
 
 236 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORK. 
 
 — " Even these are virtues : few idlers are 
 always innocent; and pleasure is often 
 dearly purchased at the first buying, ex- 
 clusive of the sting which she leaves be- 
 hind." 
 
 " No, Charles ; to be idle, even although 
 innocent, can never be a virtue; every 
 man is qualified to fill some station in so- 
 ciety; and it becomes his duty, if the 
 choice be in his power, to take the part 
 for which he believes himself best quali- 
 fied; if he has not the means of choosing, 
 he should enter by the path which remains 
 open. I am aware that you may retort 
 this upon myself, and ask what part I 
 have taken; but although I have acted 
 wrong, it would only be aggravating my 
 errors to justify them by sophistry. It 
 is long since I discovered my folly, and 
 my deviation from the duties which every 
 one owes to society ; but my habits were 
 formed — even confirmed, and it was too 
 late to attempt changing them : all that I 
 can plead, is disappointment, and unto- 
 ward circumstances in early life, as an ex-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 237 
 
 tenuation ; for I must not attempt to jus- 
 tify. Almost, but not entirely, a drone 
 in the public hive, I endeavour to consume 
 as little as possible of the honey made by 
 more industrious members : the wants of 
 nature are few, and easily supplied ; to me 
 the luxuries of life have ever been un- 
 known, and I have long since learned to 
 despise them. I flatter no man ; neither 
 do I willingly or wantonly offend; for 
 none but a monster can delight in inflict- 
 ing pain. My sentiments do not always 
 please; for all men will not think one 
 way ; and truth is sometimes disagreeable. 
 Because I have dared to call things by 
 their right names, I am distinguished by 
 the appellation of * the JNIisanthrope.' 
 The world does not yet know me : I could 
 weep for the misery that prevails, were it 
 not that I am provoked to laugh, when 1 
 see folly triumphant: and altliough I have 
 become callous to most physical evils, yet 
 I am still unable to behold with apathy, 
 scenes which force themselves upon my 
 observation. Yes, Charles, I see with dis-
 
 238 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 appointment and regret, the youth of ca- 
 pacious and aspiring mind plunging head- 
 long into the abyss of pleasure — wallow- 
 ing in the mire of sensual gratification !" 
 
 Charles was convinced that this last 
 observation was levelled at him; and as 
 James had insensibly winded himself into 
 his esteem, and always spoke with sinceri- 
 ty, he could not be offended ; and there- 
 fore replied — *' To those whose licentious 
 habits are confirmed, your observations 
 might be unwelcome ; but your counsels 
 might save the young and inexperienced, 
 or your admonitions might make them 
 pause in their thoughtless career." 
 
 " No, sir; my appearance is too con- 
 temptible for any man to reckon me his 
 friend ; and my remonstrances would only 
 be despised, as the ravings of misanthropy." 
 
 " There are who think otherwise: I 
 have listened to you with delight, and 
 have often had much pleasure in your 
 company." 
 
 " Charles, I should consider these asser- 
 tions as complimentary, had 1 not last
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 239 
 
 night heard, frornrgood authority, that you 
 have begun to imitate my example, by 
 mortifying your passions." 
 
 " This is severe ; but I have deserved 
 it," said Charles. 
 
 The dark eye of James appeared to kin- 
 dle, and with elevated voice he exclaimed 
 — " Oh, that men should put an enemy 
 in their mouths to steal away their brains !' 
 especially those who have brains capable 
 of being employed in some useful purpose. 
 And I frankly acknowledge, that of you 
 I expected to hear something better than 
 what fame now reports. Yes, sir, I ima- 
 gined, that if Charles Melville intended to 
 distinguish himself, he would have good 
 sense and pride sufficient to keep out of 
 the hackneyed, beaten track, and that his 
 genius would have discovered a path to 
 celebrity, where, by having fewer rivals, 
 he would more easily become conspicuous ; 
 but * to be drunk and speak parrot; squab- 
 ble, swagger, swear, and discourse fustian 
 with one's own shadow;* why, man, 
 Where's the novelty or dignity in all this ?
 
 240 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 it is as old as the deluge, and so common 
 that I'll engage to find you a score of the 
 lowest rank and greatest blockheads in all 
 Shuttledale, who will drink as much rum, 
 talk as much nonsense, beat as many 
 friends, break as many windows, and 
 swear as many and as blasphemous oaths 
 in a given time, as you can do for a wa- 
 ger ; but I am told that you promise won- 
 derfully, considering that it was only your 
 first exhibition ; and that by practice and 
 perseverance, great hopes may be enter- 
 tained of your acquiring notoriety." 
 
 " Oh, my friend, spare me ! you cannot 
 despise me more than I do myself!" cried 
 Charles. 
 
 " Ay, for the present, because your mo- 
 desty is overpowered by the * blushing 
 honours' which you have acquired ; be- 
 sides, your eyes are yet red, and perhaps 
 your brow still aches from the pressure of 
 your laurels ; but all these will wear off* 
 by a little practice: you will become a 
 seasoned cask ; and from the spirit you 
 have evinced in your first campaign, your
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 2141 
 
 friends may hope, that you will soon ac- 
 quire the eclat of having burnt a house, 
 or what would be still more glorious, kill- 
 ed a man, as a coup d'essai; but should 
 you be happy enough to achieve all this, 
 still, sir, you will be nothing greater than 
 an humble imitator ; for you cannot have 
 forgotten that 'Macedonia's madman' burnt 
 the city of Persepolis, in a drunken frolic ; 
 and upon a similar occasion, murdered his 
 best friend, Clytus. Hence you see, that 
 there is greater difficulty in striking out 
 any thing new, than you perhaps ima- 
 gined ; and where there are so many com- 
 petitors for fame, he must be a candidate 
 of no ordinary powers who can acquire 
 peculiar distinction. Might it not there- 
 fore be worth while to attempt something 
 which would have the charm of novelty, 
 and where you would have the chance of 
 fewer rivals to jostle you on the course?" 
 
 " Oil, in mercy forbear !" cried our he- 
 ro : "I have blushed for my folly, but 
 you make me shudder at what might have 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 been its consequences ; for I was certainly 
 sufficiently mad to have perpetrated the 
 worst crime that you have mentioned." 
 
 " 1 hoir your pardon, Charles, for the 
 liberty I have taken : my good opinion is 
 of little value to any one ; but to a young- 
 man entering upon life, the esteem of the 
 world, worthless as it is, must be of value ; 
 and he who would either acquire, or pre- 
 serve it, must never cease to respect him- 
 self. Had I not believed that I perceived 
 in you intellectual powers, capable of con- 
 ducting you to distinction, with apparent 
 steadiness and good sense to guide you in 
 the pursuit, and also good-nature suffici- 
 ent to prevent your being offended, I 
 would not have taken this freedom : those 
 whom I despise escape my notice." 
 
 " My dear friend," replied Cliarles, " I 
 sincerely thank you for the lesson which 
 you have just now given me; satisfied of 
 your intentions, I consider it as a proof of 
 your kindness and regard. Bitterly do I 
 deplore the past ; and shall only add, that 
 1 hope to spare myself and all my friends
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 243 
 
 from any similar regrets in future. You, 
 sir, are yet a stranger to many painful 
 feelings which haunt my bosom ; this is 
 the first time that my own folly has aug- 
 mented their poignance. It shall be my 
 endeavour to profit by experience." 
 
 " The heart knoweth its own bitter- 
 ness," said James : '* I court no man's se- 
 crets ; and when I have no hope of alle- 
 viating the pain, I never probe the wound. 
 I am aware that your goodness of heart, 
 and warm feelings, betrayed you into the 
 folly upon which we have been comment- 
 ing ; but may not these qualities again 
 lead you into the same error? The ex- 
 treme of every virtue, Charles, degenerates 
 into vice ; as he who continues to travel 
 due west, will in time reach to the extre- 
 mity of east. However, I congratulate 
 you upon the experiment you have made ; 
 and it is no trivial compliment to your 
 heart and understanding, when I say, that 
 it will be of more value to you than twen- 
 ty didactic harangues on the subject. The 
 M 2
 
 244 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 Greeks exhibited their slaves in a higR 
 state of intoxication, as a warning lesson 
 to their children ; you have done better, 
 bj making a practical experiment." 
 
 " Yes, my friend, it is a lesson at the 
 school of experience, which I hope never 
 to forget," said Charles. 
 
 " I trust you will not," replied James ; 
 " but this is dtily one of many tempta- 
 tions which you have to encounter, and 
 must learn to resist, if you expect ever to 
 be a good, or truly great man. He who 
 cannot subdue his passions is slave to a 
 host of capricious tyrants, whose power is 
 increased by every indulgence they re- 
 ceive. Many of these you will find it 
 more difficult to conquer, than that by 
 which you have recently been subdued : 
 their influence will be stronger, their temp- 
 tations more frequent, and most probably, 
 thdr allurements more sedudtive. It is 
 unnecessary to be more particular. Let 
 me only fecommend to you, never to 
 yield to the enemy who would destroy 
 your peace. He who has been often at-
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOEN. 245 
 
 tacked, and never defeated, repels every 
 fresh attempt of the enemy with greater 
 fortitude, and at last becomes invincible ; 
 while, on the contrary, he who has been 
 worsted by an enemy, of whose strength 
 he was aware, will make a more feeble re- 
 sistance upon every repeated attack, till 
 at last he is fettered with inglorious 
 chains, and appears only as a degraded 
 captive." 
 
 Charles now took a kind, almost a ten- 
 der leave of this faithful monitor — inviting 
 him to Glenthorn, and expressing his 
 hope that their acquaintance would not 
 terminate with his departure from Shut- 
 tledale. In the mean time, James returned 
 to his conchology, and Charles bent his 
 steps homeward.
 
 246 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such" 
 We saircely can praise it^ or blame it too much ; 
 ^^'ho born for the universe, narrowed his mind, 
 And to party gave up, what was meant for mankind. 
 
 GOLDSMITK. 
 
 Good for Evil — The Lion in the Toils. 
 
 Sttli. ashamed to appear upon the street, 
 Charles approached his residence by the 
 most private way ; was silent during din- 
 ner, answering every observation address- 
 ed to him in monosyllables. In the after- 
 noon, he again went out, called at the 
 Buck's Head, and requested that his bill 
 might he made up against the evening. 
 After tea Mr. CWrfers sat till the ladies 
 had withdrawn, and having «.ir>ceeded in 
 leading Charles into some conversatiui,, 
 said — " I see you are much vexed about 
 the consequences of this frolic, and it is
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 247 
 
 proper that it should appear in its true 
 light, that you may avoid the repetition; 
 but you must not allow it to depress your 
 spirits ; should I ever see or hear of your 
 committing a similar excess, I would blame 
 you severely. Want of experience may 
 have led you into the first error — it is 
 only the repetition which will render you 
 criminal. You must therefore forget the 
 past, as all your friends will soon do. In 
 the mean time, as your bill at the Buck's 
 Head may be more than you had antici- 
 pated, that you may not have to apply to 
 your friends at Glenthorn, permit me to 
 be your banker at present — you will repay 
 me when you obtain a captain's commis- 
 sion in the army." Saying which, Mr. 
 Charters pushed some bank notes into his 
 hands, and left the room. Charles sat for 
 some time lost in surprise, for JMr. Char- 
 ters was not a liberal man ; and this gene- 
 rous interference was as pleasing as it was 
 unexpected. 
 
 He now went and settled his bill, re- 
 questing that the most trivial damage
 
 S548 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 should be charged, as there was no reason 
 that any one should suffer by his folly, 
 except himself 
 
 Returning home he made up a bundle, 
 which he conceived might be useful to 
 James Roy (who rose in his estimation as 
 he pondered upon their late conversation) ; 
 this bundle he sent by a servant in the 
 evening, intending next day to take his 
 departure for Glenthorn. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Angus arrived in town a 
 little before the time that Charles intended 
 leaving it, and being to dine there, he 
 staid to accompany them home. Mr. 
 Charters had informed them of what he 
 thought proper concerning the faux pas 
 of their p?vtege, requesting that no allu- 
 sion to it might be made by them, as he 
 considered Charles sufficiently punished, 
 by the shame and self-accusation which he 
 felt. Ellen was too well acquainted with 
 the candour and ingenuous disposition of 
 her favourite, to believe tliat he would 
 conceal it from them, or feel at ease, until 
 it should be discussed. Her conclusions
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 249 
 
 were accurate ; after their arrival at Glen- 
 thorn, Charles appeared absent and melan- 
 choly ; aware of what was passing in his 
 mind, his friends gave him an opportu- 
 nity of discharging the load from his 
 mind, by entering upon a conversation 
 which led imperceptibly to the subject; 
 when having confessed and received abso- 
 lution, with a suitable exhortation, he laid 
 his head upon his pillow, in comparative 
 peace of mind, with the comfortable hope 
 of regaining his usual cheerfulness and 
 tranquillity. 
 
 Some time ago he had received an invi- 
 tation from his friend colonel Melville, to 
 accompany him to the hills in the shoot- 
 ing season ; the time was come, and one 
 forenoon Charles walked over to Beech- 
 wood, to arrange matters concerning their 
 departure. Marie-pool-water was in his 
 way, which, although a rivulet of no 
 great magnitude in summer, was now tur- 
 bid and considerably swollen, by what is 
 termed the Lammas speat, 
 M 3
 
 250 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 The path by which Charles had to pass 
 being only a cross road, there was no 
 bridge, except a plank laid across for foot 
 passengers; the ford for carts and horses 
 was of considerable depth, interspersed 
 with stones and of irregular bottom. He 
 was descending a steep bank by a narrow 
 path hollowed out by long use and the 
 winter torrents, which descend from the 
 contiguous heights, when about two 
 hundred yards distant from the river, he 
 heard the trampling of a horse behind 
 him, and looking round, saw Ned Fergus 
 mounted in fine style ; the young squire, 
 upon recognising our hero, came up at 
 full gallop, and the path being narrow 
 and foul, he passed him close, riding 
 through a puddle, the mud from his horse's 
 heels splashing in Charles's face: some- 
 thing like resentment was beginning to 
 kindle at this petty insult, when having 
 cleared his eyes from the clay with which 
 they had been bespattered, he beheld the 
 young laird struggling with his horse in 
 the middle of the ford, where the current
 
 l^OUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 251 
 
 was deep and rapid ; the animal being of 
 small size, was up to the belly in water, 
 and seemed unwilling to go forward. 
 Fergus, naturally obstinate and irascible, 
 and perhaps, at present, feeling his pride 
 hurt, from a consciousness that Charles was 
 witnessing the struggle between two ani- 
 mals, of which it might have been dis- 
 puted, whether the quadruped was not 
 the most rational, assailed the cautious 
 steed with much fury, by a violent appli- 
 cation of whip and spur; when the high 
 mettled horse, attempting to spring for- 
 w^ard, stumbled, either upon the stones, 
 or in a pool of greater depth, and falling, 
 plunged along with the rider into the 
 deepest and most rapid part of the stream. 
 Charles hastened to the brink of the water, 
 and by the time that he approached, sa\v 
 that Ned had disentangled himself from 
 the horse, and was floating down on the 
 current. Our hero ran along the margin 
 of the stream ; but Fergus was in a place 
 so deep and rapid, that any attempt to 
 rescue him would have been rushing upon
 
 252 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 destruction ; but observiDg that it broad- 
 ened, and ran with less velocity a little 
 below, he rushed through the tangling 
 thickets tliat covered its banks, and 
 plunging into the water, by his dexterity 
 in swimming arrived in time to catch hold 
 of Fergus, who was now floating on the 
 stream apparently lifeless. Charles suc- 
 ceeding in dragging him to the opposite 
 bank, being the nearest; and by the time 
 that they were landed some women had 
 arrived, having seen the accident from 
 their cottages upon the summit of the 
 bank. 
 
 Fergus was carried to the nearest house, 
 and no signs of life appearing, the women 
 unanimously pronouncia^fhim a deat^an. 
 " Ay, ay," cried Margaret Spence, " I've 
 had a weary night's dreamin', but it's a' 
 explained now; our cock has been cra^vin' 
 at an eerie hour for near an aught-days 
 bygane. Water Kelpie has nickered at 
 the ford, ilka night sin the spate came 
 down ; an' our lassie Tibbie saw the de^d 
 light loupin' upo' the trout pool, yestreen
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOEN. 253 
 
 about bed time ! weel did I ken that spnie- 
 thing was to happen ! poor man ! it'5 a 
 sudden call!" 
 
 Charles liad been witness to, and in 
 some degree an assistant, in the recovery 
 of a person rescued from death, after hav- 
 ing been considerably longer in the water ; 
 and recollecting the means which he had 
 seen employed, said, that he trusted their 
 efforts would yet restore the suspended 
 animation : had they not been under the 
 influence of very different feelings, the 
 women would have laughed in his face, 
 when he made the proposal of attemptii^g 
 what they considered impossible ; and it 
 was with some difficulty that he could 
 procure their assistance, or get them to 
 act according to his directions. Margaret 
 Spence cried — " Indeed, sirs, ye may spare 
 yoursel's the trouble — the lad's at his rest ! 
 It's mair than a dozen o' years sin' I saw 
 the water mark upon his face ; an' his 
 mither canna deny that I've told her he 
 wad never die in his bed, nor yet upo' the
 
 254 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 field, for weel kent I that the flood was 
 his fate, an' that he was doomed to a watery 
 bed!" The women hesitated, but Charles 
 insisted that they should instantly act as 
 he directed. 
 
 " AVeel, sirs, ye may a' do as ye like !" 
 cried Margaret, " but I'll ha'e nae hand 
 in sic in a job, an' I beg ane an' a' of you 
 to think what ye're about, afore ye med- 
 dle in sic a sinfu' business — it's unholy 
 wark — an' ye're fleein' in the face o' the 
 decrees o' Providence — poor man! his days 
 are numbered — an' his appointed hour's 
 come ! och, sirs, consider ! an' dinna be 
 wiser than the Almighty." 
 
 Charles, in an authoritative tone, com- 
 manded her to be silent, and not interrupt 
 the operations, nor distract the attention 
 of those who were assisting him, by her 
 superstitious nonsense. He had spoken 
 with some asperity, and the contempt 
 which he shewed for her opinions pro- 
 duced a reply of vulgar, but impassioned 
 eloquence, to which Charles paid no atten- 
 
 ^
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 255 
 
 tion, although the epithets of " Infidel" 
 and "Atheist" were pronounced with pe- 
 culiar emphasis. 
 
 Finding that she could neither stop 
 the procedure, nor obtain listeners, she 
 sat down with her hands crossed, waiting 
 the result, occasionally exclaiming — " Och, 
 sirs, will ye never weary o' fightin' 
 against Heaven ? will na the sight o' Death 
 himsel' upo' that dowie countenance, stop 
 your ungodly hands?" 
 
 After long and patient perseverance, one 
 of the women affirmed that his heart was 
 moving. " Gae awa', you fool tawpy," 
 cried JNIargaret, " his heart will never gi'e 
 anither dunt, till the sound o' the last 
 trumpet." 
 
 I n stern defiance of Margaret's prediction, 
 Fergus soon uttered a groan, which made 
 her start from her seat, exclaiming — " May 
 a' that's good preserve us !" 
 
 He gradually recovered, and in a short 
 time sat upright. — " Look now, Margaret," 
 cried one of the women, " what think you 
 of our unholy wark now ?"
 
 256 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 Margaret, after recovering from her con- 
 fusion, cried — " I think it unholy still — 
 * He casteth out devils by the power of 
 devils,' we have Scripture for that; an* 
 also, that there were men who did many 
 wonderful works in his name, whom he 
 declared he never knew, an' commanded 
 to depart from his presence, as workers 
 of iniquity." 
 
 She uttered this with an air of triumph, 
 hastening out of the house, and holding 
 her clothes aside as she passed Charles, 
 lest they should be polluted by touching 
 him. 
 
 Our hero continued in the cottage till 
 he believed Fergus out of danger, and as 
 a message had been dispatched to Dubby 
 Moss, he had no wish to meet the parents; 
 for he still recollected the tale told to Ned 
 by his mother, and therefore took his de- 
 parture ; and being in no condition for 
 pursuing his intended journey to Beech- 
 wood, he returned to Glenthorn. 
 
 The departure of colonel Melville for 
 the hills was delayed by the arrival of a
 
 FOUNDLING OF OLENTHOEN. 257 
 
 stranger at Beech wood. If Charles was 
 deficient in any youthful and manly exer- 
 cise, it was in that of horseraanship, and 
 he now occupied a considerable part of 
 every day in riding, expecting soon to 
 become an expert equestrian. One morn- 
 ing, after breakfast, he walked to a village 
 at a short distance to execute some busi- 
 ness for Mr. Angus. On crossing the pub- 
 lic road between Shuttledale and Salmon 
 Ferry, he observed his friend, James Roy, 
 stalking majestically along, with his bag 
 slung across his shoulder in the usual 
 careless manner. After exchanging salu- 
 tations, Charles observed that since his 
 coming to rusticate in the country, he had 
 been puzzling himself with a proposition 
 of Euclid's, which he was not yet certain 
 that he could demonstrate in a scientific 
 manner, and asked James to assist him. 
 The misanthrope threw down his bag, 
 saying, that he had a copy of Euclid in his 
 wallet, and, if he pleased, they would look 
 at it. The book was produced, but at that 
 momenta carriage came up, and suddenly
 
 258 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 stopped almost close behind them ; there 
 being an angle in the road a few yards for- 
 ward, they walked on, and seating them- 
 selves on a grassy hillock close by the 
 highway, proceeded in their investigation. 
 In a minute or two an elderly gentleman, 
 of a robust form, and very corpulent, ap- 
 proached with an awkward gait, and wield- 
 ing a large oaken stick in his hand ; James 
 had just time to say, that it was certainly 
 Hercules brandishing his club, when the 
 stranger came up, and making a halt, in- 
 quired the distance to Salmon Ferry. It 
 appeared pretty obvious, that he asked 
 this question merely as a prelude to con- 
 versation ; for, upon receiving a reply, he 
 still lingered, and observing the couple 
 employed with a book, said — " May I use 
 the freedom of inquiring what subject 
 attracts your cogitative powers ?" 
 
 James readily replied — " Why, sir, in 
 the language of the great Dr. Johnson, 
 * we are toiling, with firm and cautious steps, 
 up the narrow tracks of demonstration." 
 
 " And what subject are you endeavour-
 
 t^OUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 259 
 
 ing to develop? — what truth do you wish 
 to demonstrate?" said the stranger. 
 
 " One of Euclid's, sir, which, when 
 clearly understood, admits of no disputa- 
 tion." 
 
 " You just now quoted Dr. Johnson — I 
 should opine, that those who are devoted 
 to mathematical pursuits, would not find 
 much pleasure in his lucubrations." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir ; Johnson (if I 
 may use the phrase) is a mathematical 
 moralist, eliciting truth by logical demon- 
 stration." 
 
 " Do you pronounce this eulogium from 
 your own knowledge of his writings ?" 
 
 " When I give the opinions, or employ 
 the language of others, I always quote 
 my authority," replied the misanthrope, in 
 an elevated and sonorous voice. 
 
 " I crave pardon, sir," said the stranger, 
 " you exhibited this in your quotation 
 from Johnson, whom I think you honour- 
 ed with the epithet of great; do you con- 
 ceive him justly entitled to that appella-
 
 260 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHOEN. 
 
 " Much more so than many others, both 
 ancients and moderns, on whom the world 
 has bestowed that honour." 
 
 " And pray, sir, what have you read of 
 Dr. Johnson's?" 
 
 " I have read, sir, his Rambler, Idler, 
 most of his poems, some of his political 
 pamphlets, the preface to Shakespeare, 
 also that to his Dictionary ; and last, al- 
 though not least, his Rasselas." 
 
 " He seems to be a favourite with you." 
 
 " Why, sir, he is, gjid he is not; I ad- 
 mire and disUke him alternately." 
 
 " That may happen from the subject of 
 which he treats being more or less to your 
 taste ; few palates relish all kinds of food 
 with the same pleasure." 
 
 " Granted ; but, sir, the cookery makes 
 a vast difference." 
 
 " To continue the metaphor— do you 
 find a great difference in Johnson's culi- 
 nary practice?" 
 
 " Very much indeed." 
 
 " Condescend upon a few particulars." 
 
 " Why, sir, I admire his strong sen^a
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 26l 
 
 revere his sound morality, and dwell with 
 delight upon his nervous expression and 
 harmonious periods ; but in a system of 
 ethics, such as his Rambler, which he 
 doubtless intended to improve the heart, 
 rather than tickle the ears, I would exter- 
 minate many of his sesquipedalian words 
 and ornate phrases : few will continue to 
 read what they do not comprehend, and 
 none can be instructed by what he does 
 not understand." 
 
 " His style appears familiar to you, and 
 I should suppose you never find his lan- 
 guage unintelligible?" 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but many who attempt 
 to read the Rambler have not had my 
 opportunities of obtaining information ; 
 and I regret to see a poor man deprived 
 of the improvement both to his head and 
 heart which Johnson's pure morality 
 would convey, were it not for the sono- 
 rous terminations and learned obscurity 
 with which it is garnished." 
 
 '* What ! do the poor of Scotland at- 
 tempt to read the Rambler ?" 
 
 v..
 
 262 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 " To be sure they do. You are an 
 Englishman, I presume, sir, and are there- 
 fore not aware that our peasantry, our 
 mechanics, after they have finished the 
 labours of the day, seek with avidity that 
 relaxation from a book, which yours of 
 the same rank find in guzzling ale or por- 
 ter, and smoking tobacco." 
 
 " And so you would endeavour to per- 
 suade me that Scotland is — ' The land of 
 scholars, and the nurse of arms.' Your 
 parish schools are favourable institutions 
 for affording a smattering — the first rudi- 
 ments of education." 
 
 " Correct enough, sir; if we have few 
 who banquet sumptuously upon the trea- 
 sured stores of learning, we have still 
 fewer who expire in a state of literary in- 
 anition." 
 
 The surprise of the stranger seemed to 
 increase as the conversation was prolong- 
 ed; and he again addressed James, saying 
 — " Your dress is that of a peasant, but 
 your style of language and information 
 indicate something much superior. May
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 263 
 
 I make so free as to inquire your profes- 
 sion ?" 
 
 " By the courtesy of my country, I am 
 termed a flying stationer: our great lexi- 
 cographer would call me an itinerant bi- 
 bliopolist ; ecce si^num" said James, point- 
 ing to his wallet. 
 
 " Still Johnsonian ! How do you relish 
 his poetry ?" 
 
 " His * Vanity of Human Wishes' is a 
 favourite with me ; the illustrations are in 
 general happily, some of them most feli- 
 citously, chosen." 
 
 " Some people prefer his ' London." 
 
 " It may have more spirit ; but it has 
 less truth. It is caricature, sir, dictated 
 either by misanthropy, or ill-nature. Now, 
 sir, caricature is not portrait-painting, nor 
 is it truth, nor manly satire ; it is a libel." 
 
 " I do not recollect any passage in his 
 ' London' to justify this charge." 
 
 " Permit me to quote you a couplet ; 
 speaking of Scotland, the author says — 
 
 * 1 here, none are swept by sudden fate away; 
 But all ahora hunger spares, with age decay.'
 
 2l64 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 Now, sir, this is such calumny as I should 
 have expected from that unprincipled fel- 
 low Churchill, but not from Johnson, 
 who, if he would condescend to visit Scot- 
 land, would see none of that famine with 
 which he brands the country ; and would, 
 I am persuaded, find fewer objects in the 
 extreme of wretchedness than in his own." 
 
 " Ay, sir, you are a patriot, whose 
 ' first best country ever is at home.* I see 
 the cause of your irritation." 
 
 " No, sir, I am less of a bigot — I am a 
 cosmopolite, and can applaud what is wor- 
 thy of applause, ' from China to Peru.' 
 I have censured Johnson here, and I think 
 the condemnation just; but I feel greater 
 pleasure in saying, that he has been suc- 
 cessful in his imitation of the Roman Sa- 
 tirist, and has preserved the spirit of the 
 original, without its licentiousness. But 
 Johnson's faults, sir, when compared with 
 his powerful eloquence, comprehensive 
 mind, and above all, his excellent morali- 
 ty, are like spots on the sun, or a flaw in 
 a gem of the first lustre, which are lost in
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 265 
 
 tli^ radiance and blaze of splendour by 
 which they are surrounded." 
 
 ** You seem a warm friend to morality ; 
 I hope you disseminate nothing to corrupt 
 the mind." 
 
 " My fastidiousness is sometimes against 
 my interest ; I never vend blasphemy, se- 
 dition, nor obscenity." 
 
 " Let me look at your stock." 
 
 James turned out the contents of his 
 wallet, and the stranger glancing at a few 
 volumes, took up a neat copy of Cocker's 
 Arithmetic, inquiring the price. James 
 demanded a shilhng. The stranger put 
 the book in his pocket, and gave him a 
 crown-piece. 
 
 " Can you change this ?" said James, 
 addressing Charles. 
 
 " I want no change," said the stranger ; 
 " Cocker is valuable, sir ; you offered him 
 too cheap. Do you contrive to make a 
 living by that precarious employment ?" 
 
 " Why, sir, * man wants but little here 
 below,' and perhaps he is wisest who con- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 t rives to content himself with least," re- 
 plied James. 
 
 " Oh, you are a philosopher too ! it is a 
 fair conclusion that you belong to the 
 school of the Peripatetics. Is this one of 
 your pupils ?" said the stranger, smiling, 
 and looking at Charles. 
 
 " No, sir, he has had better teachers : I 
 tave, however, the pleasure of his acquaint- 
 ance, and I believe he does me the ho- 
 nour to call me his friend." 
 
 ** Young man," said the stranger, ad- 
 dressing Charles, " it indicates a love of 
 wisdom to associate with those so far your 
 seniors." 
 
 Charles modestly replied — " I find both 
 entertainment and instruction in the com- 
 pany of my friend. I always meet him 
 with pleasure, and part from him with re- 
 gret." 
 
 " Are you also a reader, and a critic?" 
 
 " No, sir, I am yet a boy ; little ac- 
 quainted with the world, and still less with 
 myself; although enough to know, that I 
 ought not yet to trust my own opinions.
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 267 
 
 and to discover that my mind is more im- 
 proved by listening than by talking." 
 
 " Very modest and prudential, young 
 man; but you must acquire a habit of 
 thinking. Ypu have studied, I presume ?" 
 
 " Very superficially, sir." 
 
 " Since your ploughmen and mechanics 
 read Johnson's productions, I cannot sup- 
 pose you a stranger to them." 
 
 " I can scarcely venture to claim ac- 
 quaintance with any of them, except his 
 Dictionary." 
 
 " Well, and what is your opinion of 
 that work ?" 
 
 " I have already said that I am afraid 
 to trust my own crude opinions, and there- 
 fore ought never to promulgate them ; yet 
 with respect to the work in question, I 
 hesitate not to say, that it evinces a labour 
 for which the life of man would appear 
 too short, unwearied perseverance, of 
 which few are capable, also much keen 
 and acute observation, patient research, 
 and nice discrimination ; the plan has the 
 N 2
 
 268 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 charm of novelty combined with utility; 
 but I must say, that I prefer my old ac- 
 quaintance, Bailey, as an etymologist. 
 Johnson's omissions and peculiarities it is 
 unnecessary to mention ; they have been 
 cavilled at and caricatured, by those who 
 were unable to appreciate, or unwilling to 
 acknowledge his excellencies ; but in my 
 opinion, that work alone will render his 
 name as a philologist, lasting as the lan- 
 guage of which he has written.'* 
 
 The stranger turning to James, said — 
 " Although your modesty declines the 
 honour, I find that this is indeed a pupil 
 of yours. Have you any more remarks 
 to make upon Johnson? I think you 
 spoke of his Rasselas ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," cried the misanthrope, with 
 animation; " I hold it as almost invalu- 
 able ; it is a picture of life and of the hu- 
 man heart, drawn by the hand of a mas- 
 ter ; some say it is too deeply shaded ; but 
 its sombre tints suit my imagination, and 
 are responded by my feelings; its most 
 obvious defect is in the disposition of the
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 269 
 
 drapery, or perhaps I should say, in the 
 want of keeping in the subordinate parts. 
 Of the several interlocutors, we can scarce- 
 ly discover any difference in their powers 
 of reasoning, or style of language ; but 
 Johnson cannot descend, and when he 
 makes the attempt, it is like a whale floun- 
 dering in a mill-pond, or Hercules wield- 
 ing the distaff/" 
 
 " There is perhaps some truth in this ; 
 he cannot stoop to employ vulgar lan- 
 guage." 
 
 " No, sir, and therefore he should al- 
 ways speak in his own person ; look at the 
 preface to his dictionary — there is style ! 
 and also a comprehensive view of the sub- 
 ject: the elegance of the composition is 
 only exceeded by that to his edition of 
 Shakespeare; and I would live for three 
 months upon bread and water, to have 
 the honour of being author of his keen 
 and dignified letter to lord Chesterfield." 
 
 " You have made no observations upon 
 his political writings." 
 N3
 
 270 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 "The less that is said about them so 
 much the better," said James. 
 
 " Why so? Does he sink so far below 
 his usual standard?" 
 
 " The fact is, sir, that I never wish to 
 hear them mentioned ; I dislike to hear 
 Johnson abused by any one except my- 
 self; but his politics, sir, are the signal 
 for an attack, Avhich generally concludes 
 by a sweeping condemnation of his cha- 
 racter for this one fault ; and I wish you 
 had permitted me to close my observa- 
 tions, without awakening the only un- 
 kindly feeling in my bosom towards a man 
 whom I so highly esteem." 
 
 " And so you really dislike his politics ?" 
 
 " Johnson, sir, was no pohtician ; he 
 was a party man and a bigot; in all aiiairs 
 connected with church and state, the phi- 
 losopher is lost in the surly dogmatist ; in 
 a word, sir, as a politician, he is the advo- 
 cate of arbitrary power, and as a polemic, 
 liighly intolerant, the determined enemy 
 of civil and religious liberty."
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 271 
 
 " No, sir," cried the stranger, in a loud 
 and angry tone, his face reddening deep 
 with resentment as he spoke, " Johnson 
 only supports legitimate monarchy, and 
 opposes schism and heresy ; but I had for- 
 gotten that you are all Whigs in this 
 country — it was vain to hope that you 
 would be found an exception, although I 
 regret to see a man, possessed of your 
 talents and powers of discrimination, so 
 deeply tainted with their detestable prin- 
 ciples." 
 
 The carriage which had stopped behind 
 was now approaching, upon hearing which 
 the stranger said, in a sulky tone — " Good 
 morning," and walked on, brandishing his 
 cudgel. 
 
 They observed that the carriage con- 
 tained only one gentleman ; but upon over- 
 taking the stranger, he was assisted in. 
 Both James and our hero were at a loss to 
 conceive who he could be. Charles had 
 been delighted with the manly style in 
 which his companion had spoken, and had 
 listened to the dialogue with profound at«
 
 272 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 tention ; still the conduct of the stranger 
 surprised him. The five shillings for 
 Cocker given so delicately, indicated the 
 man of rank and a gentleman, titles not 
 always united ; and then his evident an- 
 ger at the assertions of James in behalf of 
 civil and religious liberty, led Cliarles to 
 conjecture that it might be lord North, or 
 some of the ministry travelling incog. 
 But what was his astonishment next day, 
 when visited by James at Glenthoni, who 
 informed him that doctor Johnson, in pro- 
 pria persona, had slept at the Buck's 
 Head the night before last, and departed 
 next morning on a tour to the Highlands. 
 Not a doubt now remained in the mind 
 of James, that he had had the honour of a 
 long and familiar interview with the great 
 literary Colossus, and this opinion he en- 
 tertained through life. After the publi- 
 cation of Bos well's Tour, when it was ob» 
 jected to James, that as Bos well had re- 
 lated so many incidents of minor import- 
 ance, it was in no degree probable that he 
 would have neglected this interview, had
 
 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 273 
 
 it ever taken place, the reply to this by 
 James was, that Boswell was not present, 
 being detained by something wrong about 
 the carriage, and that as the doctor left 
 them in anger, he might not be in a com- 
 municative mood when he joined his com- 
 panion ; but James argued further, that 
 Bos well's Tour corroborated his opinion, 
 and afforded two circumstantial proofs of 
 his beinor correct ; for it is related in the 
 tour, that doctor Johnson made a present 
 of Cocker's Arithmetic to a young lady in 
 the Highlands, and lost his oaken cudgel 
 in one of the western isles. — " Now," said 
 James, " I sold him the copy of Cocker, 
 and 1 most distinctly recollect seeing the 
 oak sapling in his hand ; but most of all, 
 I conceive his vituperation against the 
 Whigs and liberty as decisive of the fact." 
 James also piqued himself not a little, 
 that the doctor, as recorded by Boswell, 
 when speaking of the state of learning in 
 Scotland, asserted that " every man had a 
 mouthful, but no one a bellyfull," took 
 the hint from his saying, that if few ban-
 
 274 FOUNDLING OF GLENTHORN. 
 
 queted sumptuously, fewer expired from 
 literary inanition ; and if ever the misan- 
 thrope exhibited a symptom of vanity, it 
 was when reminded of this imaginary in- 
 terview with the luminary of literature. 
 
 END OF VOL. I, 
 
 Printed by J. Darling, Leadenhall-street, London,
 
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