a I E) RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 U N IVLRS ITY 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 V.l 
 
 \-/
 
 ST. CLYDE; 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 Breathes there a man with soul so dead. 
 Who never to himself hath said, 
 
 " This is ray own, my native land !" 
 Whose heart has ne'er ^\•ithin him burned. 
 As home his footsteps he hath turned, 
 
 From wandering on a foreign strand ? 
 
 Scott. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES, 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED FOR GALE AND FENNER, 
 
 PATERNOSTER-RO \V, 
 By S. Hamilton, Weybridge, Surrey. 
 
 1816.
 
 
 TO 
 
 THOMAS CAMPBELL, Esq. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 " THE PLEASURES OF HOPE;' 
 
 Ifc. fyc. Sfc. 
 
 THESE VOLUMES 
 
 ARE 
 
 RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. 
 
 March 27th, 181^.
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/stclydenovel01lond
 
 S T. C L Y D E. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Ye've heard this while how I've been hcket. 
 And by fell death was nearly nicket ; 
 Grim loon ! he gat me by the fecket. 
 
 And sair me sheuk j 
 But by gude luck I lap a wicket. 
 
 And turned a neuk.' 
 
 Burns. 
 
 Mactaggart, the postmaster of 
 Bute, arranging, one morning, the let- 
 ters for delivery that came over from 
 the Largs, found one addressed to Mr. 
 Whiggans, and which w^as not sealed. 
 Discovering a letter of unusual size 
 open, curiosity prompted Mactaggart 
 to unfold it, but what was his surprise 
 to find its contents an invoice of pro- 
 hibited goods. 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
 v7
 
 2 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 Whiggans was a skipper whose usual 
 residence was at Cambeltown in Kin- 
 tire, but he had also carried on a fair 
 trade in Rothsay for many years. Mac- 
 taggart was a man of scrupulous,busy, 
 meddhng honesty; and hisown brother 
 would not have met any mercy at his 
 hands, if found transgressing any of 
 the known and established laws of the 
 land. He was determined, therefore, 
 to do his duty; and in place of giving 
 this letter to his son, to be delivered, 
 he carried it himself to the laird, St. 
 Clyde, who was the justice of the 
 peace for the island.* 
 
 The laird was not at home when 
 Mactaggart called; he had taken his 
 gun in his hand and gone to themuir; 
 but the postmaster would wait till he 
 returned. By accident the laird soon 
 
 * This transaction is supposed to take place 
 in 1750-1.
 
 ST. CLYDE, 
 
 returned, and Mactaggart requested 
 to have a word with him in his office, 
 which was also his study. 
 
 *' Certainly," said the laird ; *'come 
 this way, Mr. Mactaggart." 
 
 When they got into the office, Mac- 
 taggart questioned the laird, whether 
 it was right to detain a letter that con- 
 tained any thing inimical to the re- 
 venue of the crown ; but this he did, 
 not so much to get the opinion of the 
 laird, as to show his own knowledge 
 of the law on this head. And, when 
 the laird satisfied him, that to inter- 
 cept disloyal letters was not only pro- 
 per, and the duty of every loyal sub- 
 ject, but also very praise-worthy, 
 Mactaggart drew from his side-pocket 
 the letter addressed to Whiggans, and, 
 opening it with great ceremony, put 
 it into the laird's hands, saying — 
 
 *' If that letter contain not matter 
 inimical to the revenue of the crown, I 
 B 2
 
 4 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 have done wrong ; but if it does, I hope 
 and trust, there will be nobody to stop 
 the course of justice. I would not 
 knowingly hurt any man; but I think 
 I know m} duty too well, to let such a 
 letter slip through my hands without 
 proving to my superiors that I am 
 worthy of the office I fill.'* 
 
 The laird read the invoice with deep 
 attention, and when he had done — 
 
 '' Is it possible, Mr. Mactaggart, 
 that this letter can be a real invoice ? 
 Mr. Whiggans has always borne a fair 
 character amongst us, and he is not a 
 needy man. I think it must be a 
 forgery, especially as it was not 
 sealed." 
 
 " Well, sir, if you think so, I had 
 better give it to him myself; but do 
 not you see by the postscript that the 
 vessel is to be in Ettrick bay about 
 the time the letter arrived ?" 
 
 " You are very right, Mr. Mactag-
 
 % 
 
 ST. CLYDE. 5 
 
 gart, I do see that from the postscript, 
 and therefore I think it will be best to 
 issue a warrant for the apprehension of 
 Whiggans; and since young Stuart's 
 cutter is in the bay, I will send a letter 
 to him by you, to proceed with all 
 possible haste to Ettrick bay, to seize 
 the lugger in which these contraband 
 goods are." 
 
 On the evidence furnished by the 
 invoice, that Whiggans was not only 
 a smuggler, but an enterprising one 
 too, the warrant was made out, and 
 the letter was written to Lieutenant 
 Stuart, to proceed to Ettrick bay with 
 all possible speed. And Mactaggart 
 gave the warrant to baillie Ilan Dou, 
 who had it executed immediately, and 
 Captain Whiggans was put into the 
 town-jail, to the great consternation of 
 all the skippers in Rothsay. But 
 Stuart*s cutter had sailed before Mac- 
 taggart got into the town.
 
 6 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 The laird, after Mactaggart had 
 gone, wrote letters to the comptroller 
 and baillie Ilan Dou, requesting their 
 attendance on him at the town-hall 
 next day by eleven o'clock, to investi- 
 gate the business this letter opened to 
 their view. Mactaggart was also de- 
 sired to be there, and the Dominie, Mr. 
 Maclean, was sent for to make a 
 minute of the invoice in the laird's 
 journal of criminal cases. But the 
 dominie did not come then exactly: 
 he would be over in an hour. 
 
 The laird had a family of three chil- 
 dren — a son, Colin; and two daughters, 
 Norah and Ellen. Colin was about 
 thirteen years of age, and his sisters 
 were both younger. 
 
 The laird had an only sister, and she 
 had given her hand to Mon. Villejuive, 
 a French emigrant, who had followed 
 the fortunes of prince Charles Edward 
 Stuart; and the family of Villejuive
 
 ST. CLYDE. 7 
 
 consisted of two boys, much about 
 Colin St. Clyde's age, and these three 
 boys were perpetually together in all 
 their games and fishing excursions. 
 
 On the morning of the day on wliich 
 the laird was to attend the council, his 
 horse was brought to the door, for he 
 had breakfasted rather earher than 
 usual, and he went into his office for 
 the letter, but, after searchnig every 
 drawer and shelf, he could not find it. 
 However, as the dominie, who acted 
 as clerk on emergency, was in the 
 liabit of carrying home any thing he 
 had to do of a laborious nature for the 
 laird, *Hhat he might do it well when 
 his family went to bed," a messenger 
 was dispatched along with Cohn to the 
 school, to bring back the invoice, but 
 the dominie had it not. " He had on 
 the evening of the preceding day just 
 got the laird's journal ruled to insert 
 the document, when the minister sent
 
 8 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 for him, and he had to leave it off, but 
 he intended to come over the niuir and 
 do it before the forenoon school com- 
 menced," and unfortunately the much- 
 thinking man forgot it entirely ; and, 
 to satisfy the laird, he came over to 
 show the exact place in which he had 
 left it on the preceding evening. 
 
 Every body was questioned about 
 the invoice, but no one knew any thing 
 of it; there was not one person in the 
 house that ever removed any of the 
 laird's papers, and every one had more 
 sense than to take away or destroy a 
 letter. 
 
 One of the young Villejuives came 
 for Colin to go along with him to 
 school, and hearing the noise the laird 
 was making with the dominie, (for the 
 poor man was sadly rated about " his 
 great carelessness,") the boy recollect- 
 ed, "that on the preceding evening 
 Colin, his brother, and himself were
 
 ST. CLYDE. 9 
 
 making rockets and squibs, and that 
 Colin brougiit a piece of paper like an 
 exercise on book-keeping from the 
 study, and he was sure it made a fine 
 large rocket barrel." 
 
 Colin and the other Villejuive were 
 both sent for, and Colin confessed 
 " having taken a piece of paper, but 
 he had often got paper from his father 
 for messengers to his kite ; there was 
 not a kite he mounted, but his father 
 gave him the paper for it; and he 
 thought the paper he had taken was 
 some exercise Mr. Maclean had been 
 copying out of papa's book, for the 
 lads that were learning book-keeping 
 at the school to be puzzled with — the 
 master was aye plaguing the older 
 scholars with hard questions and dif- 
 ficult exercises;" — and Cohn having 
 cursorily scanned the contents of the 
 paper, " did not think it of any value, 
 for he had not heard of Mr. Whiggans's 
 B 5
 
 10 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 being a smuggler before ; and as there 
 were many words on the paper that 
 neither he nor the Villejuives could 
 make out, all three thought it was cer- 
 tainly an exercise the master had for- 
 gotten ;" and, said the laird, "it was 
 fine fun to get hold of so difficult an 
 article before any body was teazed 
 with the correction of it." 
 
 His father was very angry with him, 
 but blamed the dominie most, who 
 ought to have had more sense than to 
 leave so important a document within 
 the reach of any one ; and, to make a 
 short tale of a long one, the xvhins and 
 all the ground for a distance round the 
 house were searched, but not a vestige 
 of the paper wanted could be found j 
 it was irretrievably lost. 
 
 The laird went to Rothsay, where he 
 found the other members of the coun- 
 cil assembled, with many of the skip- 
 pers who were willing to give bail for
 
 ST. CLYDE. 11 
 
 Captain Whiggans. The baillie or- 
 dered the jailor to bring Mr. Whiggans 
 up to the town-hall, for the prison was 
 beneath it; but the laird related the 
 accident that had befallen the docu- 
 ment they were to proceed by, and 
 lamented the dommie should have 
 been so inattentive to his duty. The 
 skippers were very much concerned 
 about the fate of Whiggans; and after 
 various and contradictory opinions 
 were heard, whether the prisoner should 
 be set at liberty or confined till the 
 opinion of the council should be un- 
 animous, it was resolved, after due de- 
 liberation, to apply for advice to the 
 Lords of Session. The comptroller did 
 not see any necessity for this, but the 
 laird did ; that gentleman's opinion 
 was fixed, and he was sure it w^as well 
 founded ; and since the invoice, though 
 destroyed, had been examined by 
 three men of unimpeachable veracity,
 
 12 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 he would not hear of liberating the 
 prisoner ; the laird started some doubts, 
 but baillie Han Dou solved them all 
 by observing, " it was at their peril to 
 let Whiggans escape ; for escape it 
 would be, were he let out of prison, 
 since he resided nobody knew where, 
 himself said at Cambeltown, it might 
 be at Jonny Groat's house, it might 
 be any where or every where that an- 
 swered his illicit trade; and it was 
 now very evident why Whiggans had 
 no fixed residence in Bute." 
 
 The council at length judged that 
 *' the oaths of the laird, Mr. Mactag- 
 gart, and the dominie, were equivalent 
 to the production of the invoice," and 
 the comptroller " was sure this would 
 be the opinion of their lordships." 
 And it was determined also, " as the 
 day was now far gone, to meet on the 
 following day and draw up a memorial 
 to their lordships," and with this last
 
 ST. CLYDE. 13 
 
 resolution the council broke up, its 
 thanks having been given to Mr. Mac- 
 taggart for his vigilance in watching 
 over the interests of the crown. 
 
 Whilst these things were doing in 
 Rothsay, Whiggans had dispatched a 
 trusty person to Ettrick bay, whither 
 he expected the smuggler would be 
 coming, with orders to go to sea, for he 
 had been taken up by the invoice 
 having been intercepted; and, in the 
 mean time, hr sold and made over to 
 another man all the property he liad in 
 Buteforabouttwo-thirdsofits real value. 
 
 In another cell of the jail was con- 
 fined a poor unfortunate shoemaker, 
 who had lain there for three years for 
 a debt. This man had a family of five 
 children, so young that they all looked 
 up to him for support; and though 
 these helpless things were kept from 
 starvation by the bounty of the weal-
 
 14 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 thy, there was nobody would pay the 
 father's debts and give him his liberty. 
 The first thing Whiggans did, as 
 soon as he received the first payment 
 of the property he had sold, was to 
 send twenty pounds, the amount of his 
 debts, to the shoemaker, by the hands 
 of the jailor, with a surly command to 
 say nothing about him in it; but the 
 jailor could not contain himself at the 
 folly of the smuggler, and he went 
 straight and blabbed the whole to the 
 laird, to whom the poor overjoyed 
 cobbler had sent him with the price of 
 his hberty. The laird was very much 
 struck with the liberality of Whiggans, 
 and gave the bearer of the money an or- 
 der for the shoemaker's release. And he 
 was set at liberty, to the great joy of 
 his wife and children, who, with him- 
 self, flocked round the window of 
 Whiggans's cell, to his surprise and an-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 15 
 
 noyance, and thanked him with a 
 thousand thanks as sincere as ever ge- 
 nerosity listened to. 
 
 The laird conld not cease to admire 
 the conduct ot Whiggans ; and as he 
 and the dominie were preparing, du- 
 ring the evening, a sketch of the form 
 in which he would have the memorial 
 drawn up, the laird lamented to the 
 dominie " there should be such a di- 
 versity in the character of Captain 
 Whiggans, and he wondered there was 
 no suspicion of him hitherto; but he 
 would not at all be surprised to hear 
 of an attempt made that very night to 
 force the prison and release him." 
 Baillie Ilan Dou was accountable for 
 the prisoner, and the laird (after a 
 considerable pause, with his eyes fixed 
 in the fire) muttered, ** Nor should I 
 be sorry:" and he raised his eyes, stea- 
 dily looking at the vassal who waslaying 
 his supper apparatus, and who stood
 
 16 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 with the knife and fork suspended in 
 his hand ; and who, after returning the 
 laird's look, went on calmly to finish 
 his business, and left the room; and the 
 laird seemed careless of pursuing the 
 business any farther that night. 
 
 The Laird St. Clyde was almost too 
 humane for his office ; not that he 
 would allow justice to sleep, but the 
 generosity of Whiggans paralysed his 
 duty, and engendered a latent wish that 
 Whiggans were free again ; so apt is 
 the human mind to confound the cha- 
 racter of men who by their lawless 
 deeds render themselves obnoxious to 
 the laws of the land, whilst, by traits of 
 philanthropy, a merciful but upright 
 judge would be at a loss, if the deci- 
 sion affected only himself, whether 
 such a man as Whiggans was not ra- 
 ther an object of admiration than of 
 public vengeance. 
 
 The vassal went instantly to Ettrick
 
 ST. CLYDE. 17 
 
 bay, where he knew the.re were some 
 friends of Whiggans; and half a dozen 
 of them were collected and brought to 
 town by midnight. They proceeded 
 to the jailor's house, and tried to per- 
 suade the vassal of St. Clyde to raise 
 the jailor from his bed, and demand 
 the key of the prison in the laird's 
 name. This request he would not 
 comply with, but he would enter by 
 the window and take the key from 
 beneath the jailor's pillow; and he 
 did so without awakening him. Whig- 
 gans was liberated, and the man was 
 putting back the key in its place; but the 
 jailor awoke, and the vassal had just 
 cleared the window when the jailor 
 fired at him : finding the key in its 
 place, the jailor did not suspect his 
 prisoner was gone; yet he could not 
 sleep, thinking of the daring attempt 
 of the man whom his precipitate hand 
 had missed. But on the morning
 
 18 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 Whiggans was gone, and nobody could 
 tell how, for the jail door was found 
 locked, and tlie jailor " would be 
 hanged ; the devil might take him ; he 
 might lose his post if he had not done 
 his duty/' 
 
 The laird conjectured how Whig- 
 gans escaped; but he never questioned 
 the vassal, nor behaved toward him 
 with friendship or seventy; and as 
 poor Glass (for that was the vassaFs 
 name) was drowned shortly after, the 
 laird, the dominie, Whiggans, and his 
 people kept the secret, each for differ- 
 ent reasons. 
 
 Whiggans had left the island, and 
 could not be heard of in any public 
 capacity as a merchant or skipper, 
 though it was generally believed he 
 had become captain of a gang of dar- 
 ing smugglers, w'ho infested for many 
 years the whole of the Hebrides, to the 
 great annoyance of the fair trader and
 
 ST. CLYDE. 19 
 
 the prejudice of the revenue of the 
 crown. 
 
 As Colin and the Villejuives were 
 one day fishing at Ambrisbeg loch, 
 a man in the dress of a sailor came up 
 to them from a wood, and gave Colin a 
 pair of very nice pistols, and to the 
 other boys he gave a leathern bag full 
 of fishing-tackle and a flask full of 
 gunpowder; and the laird, though he 
 could not tell who this man might be, 
 was so much pleased with the present 
 his son had received, that, in addition 
 to a particular word engraved on the 
 barrel of each pistol, the laird had 
 them sent to Glasgow, and the crest of 
 his family was engraved in a very neat 
 manner; it was done to please Colin, 
 as a reward of his diligence under the 
 care of the dominie; and no general 
 was ever prouder of a sword from his 
 sovereign, than was this boy with his 
 pair of pistols.
 
 20 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 The Villejuives were very much 
 pleased with their fishing-hooks, but 
 as they kept their fishing-tackle in a 
 box, they offered the dominie the bag 
 to hold the marbles in he gave the 
 boys for good behaviour. 
 
 In about a month after these boys 
 got their presents from the sailor, Colin 
 was sent to college at Edinburgh, and 
 Mon. Villejuive, being a catholic in re- 
 ligion, sent his boys to St. Omers, 
 where they would be under the care 
 of an uncle, and a Jesuit who was re- 
 motely related to their father.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 21 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 - - - - - - And then a lover. 
 
 Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad 
 Made to his mistress' eyebrow. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 Colin St. Clyde had not long com- 
 menced his third session at the Uni 
 versity till he became acquainted with 
 an engaging and open-hearted youth 
 of the name of Antony Levingstone. 
 Colin had passed his seventeenth year, 
 and the eighteenth winter had stopped 
 with tenacious gripe the rivulets of his 
 father's grounds, since time had num- 
 bered the years of Levingstone. To 
 a countenance which Lavater would 
 have pronounced the index of an inge- 
 nuous heart and a forward resolution, 
 nature had bestowed on St. Clyde a 
 figure which possessed the rare com-
 
 22 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 bination of Hercules in the character 
 of Adonis; and the openness and sin- 
 cerity of Levingstone's heart were only 
 surpassed by the intelligence of his 
 understanding. Colin was master also 
 of that sterling quality which in a stu- 
 dent never fails to crown every honest 
 pursuit with merited success — perse- 
 verance; he became possessed of it in 
 a very remarkahle degree, and it was 
 therefore not astonishing that he ren- 
 dered himself conspicuous amongst his 
 fellow-students, and became to Leving- 
 stone an object of the highest inte- 
 rest. 
 
 It was not necessary for Levingstone 
 to court by servile submission the 
 friendship of St. Clyde, who could 
 easily discover in him the strongest 
 proofs of qualifications far superior to 
 the ordinary run of young men; and 
 on the other hand the mental endow- 
 ments with which Colin was blessed.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 23 
 
 were so improved by a well-directed 
 and closely- pursued system of educa- 
 tion, that Antony did not scruple to 
 hold the hero of our tale up to his fel- 
 low students as a model of classic ex- 
 cellence. But Levingstone was not 
 ignorant of the symmetry of his limbs 
 and the fair proportion of his entire 
 figure; and St. Clyde, though he could 
 not find the language of reproof, was 
 greatly afflicted by the constant atten- 
 tion his friend paid to the number of 
 his coats, and the quality of his linen, 
 the cut of his hair, and the taper of his 
 fingers. And the scrupulous exact- 
 ness with which he would adjust every 
 part of his dress previously to his going 
 abroad of a morning, made St. Clyde 
 a hundred times wish the mirror at the 
 deuce; it was an idle wish ; yet Leving- 
 stone was studious, learned, and on 
 every other topic tolerably wise. 
 
 These young men, in pursuance of
 
 g4 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 their respective studies, neglected no 
 branch of scientific knowledge that 
 offered itself to them in the usual 
 courses of lectures, which were deli- 
 vered and attended at the college. 
 They were constantly together, and 
 resolved at last to take lodgings in the 
 same house ; they did so, and their 
 friendship now increased, as the hours 
 they were together augmented their 
 acquaintance. 
 
 But though they had an unlimited 
 fidelity in each other, they had too 
 much good sense to pry into the visits 
 which the one or the other paid to the 
 families he had been introduced to, 
 either by letters from his relations, or 
 the casual acquaintance of his fellow- 
 students. 
 
 It was from thus unofficiously scan- 
 ning the times of their absence from 
 each other, that St. Clyde uninterrupt- 
 edly visited the family of Augustus
 
 ST. CLYDE. 25 
 
 Stuart. They attended several classes 
 together during this session, and the 
 dihgence of Augustus marked him in 
 the progress of knowledge next to Le- 
 vingstone, as the only companion 
 whom it had been St. Clyde's fortune 
 to make durinsr his studies. 
 
 Augustus esteemed St. Clyde wor- 
 thy of all the attachment, confidence, 
 and friendship, one well-meaning 
 young man can place in another; and 
 this was established by another object. 
 
 Mr. Stuart was a merchant, and 
 though l^ie hurry and bustle of busi- 
 ness prevented him for some time 
 from taking any notice of the unqua- 
 lified praises his son bestowed on St. 
 Clyde, they were too frequently and 
 too loudly repeated, not to create in 
 the old gentleman a strong desire to 
 ascertain, by personal observation, the 
 value of such unbounded applauses : 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 and as he was not deficient in hospi- 
 tality, Augustus was instructed to in- 
 vite, in his father's name, St. Clyde to 
 dine with the family on new-year's 
 day. A higher mark of respect could 
 not have been shown him, since on 
 such an occasion few, very few indeed, 
 except relations, sat down to dinner 
 with Mr. Stuart. 
 
 It was his custom to act thus; for 
 his father, his grandfather, and he be- 
 lieved his great-grandfather, had done 
 so ; and in their steps, and not in the 
 dissipation of modern times, would the 
 footsteps of a Stuart tread : and St. 
 Clyde was received with every mark 
 of genuine hospitality; and the day, 
 though it passed in great hilarity, was 
 spent with all the decorum that pa- 
 rental experience might dictate, and 
 youthful prudence should obey; for 
 modesty there, was not decried as im-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 27 
 
 polite and troublesome; nor did the 
 sallies of the young border on impu- 
 dence and the want of good manners. 
 When our visitor was leaving this 
 family in the evening, his ^' good 
 night" was accompanied with a gene* 
 ral and pressing invitation from Mr, 
 Stuart, to come and dine, drink tea, 
 and spend an evening, whenever his 
 studies would permit, and he found 
 himself disengaged, to sacrifice an 
 hour of his agreeable company: and 
 Colin returaed to his lodgings, delight- 
 ed with the frankness of Mr. Stuart's 
 conduct, indeed with the whole fa- 
 mily ', but charmed with the appear- 
 ance, conversation, good sense, and 
 amiable manners of Eliza Stuart, who 
 seemed adorned with all those female 
 attractions which are more calculated 
 to please, than to dazzle. 
 
 From nature, she had received a 
 figure of elegance ; it might vie with 
 C 2
 
 28 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 any that promenaded Bruntsfield 
 Links or St. Jannes's park; from edu- 
 cation and maternal assiduity, that 
 ease and good sense, that prudence 
 and afFabihty, the reverse of prudery 
 and coquetting, which to a mind like 
 Colin's became indescribably interest- 
 ing ; her looks, her words, her manner 
 of doing even the most trifling things, 
 were rivetted on his attention, and re- 
 flection made the impression indelible 
 on his heart. 
 
 But though he was possessed of a 
 sensible heart, he was too much 
 interested in his studies, to permit any 
 female perfections to ensnare it on so 
 slight an acquaintance. He knew also, 
 that, without resistance, so much ex- 
 cellence would creep into and entwine 
 itself round his susceptible heart, and 
 wean him from that which alone could 
 ensure his own approbation, his com- 
 fort (pardon, ye fair, the use of the
 
 ST. CLYDE. 29 
 
 term, it is written with respectful 
 
 prayer for yours also) — his future fame 
 
 and success, of which his ardent and 
 
 youthful imagination built many a 
 
 castle on fleeting and airy foundations. 
 
 He knew that to one, whose fortune 
 
 depended on his own exertions, and 
 
 not on the antiquity of his family and 
 
 the crowded insignia of his seal, these 
 
 years were the most precious of his 
 
 life, and if wasted in the softness of 
 
 love, they were not only lost, but they 
 
 entailed an effeminacy of disposition 
 
 to be dreaded and discouraged; in 
 
 short, it might balk all his prospects, 
 
 without affording any consolation or 
 
 the least recompense. 
 
 He resolved, when he next went 
 home with Augustus, not to observe, 
 if possible, what Eliza might be en- 
 gaged with, nor to pay more attention 
 to her than merelj^ to be polite; and 
 he remained firm in his resolution: but
 
 30 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 its only effect was to render confused, 
 with a blush, the lovely countenance 
 of this ingenuous, elegant girl; and 
 the embarrassment into which she 
 was thrown by St. Clyde's presence, 
 though she had not yet formed any 
 attachment for him, served only to 
 heighten the admiration in which she 
 held the friend of her brother. But, 
 being his friend, she was sensible that, 
 next to the professor's, St. Clyde's was 
 the best company Augustus could be 
 in 3 and the inattention with which 
 Colin had observed her, she attributed 
 to the bent of his whole soul on some 
 intricate branch of their studies, 
 which it was neither her duty nor 
 her wish to unravel. With this con- 
 struction, the first effort of Colin's 
 address to conceal what himself could 
 not yet explain, was passed over; but 
 little did the young lady know, that, 
 whilst she was interpreting his gait.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 31 
 
 and speech, and look, in approaching 
 and parting from her, Mrs. Stuart, 
 whose perspicacity was as keen as her 
 experience of her sex was matured, 
 examined with maternal nicety the ex- 
 treme of her daughter's behaviour, 
 especially the unconscious, averted 
 look and blush, and sudden emotion of 
 artless embarrassment, but too evident 
 in her looks, her speech, and action. 
 
 But the good woman had prudence 
 enough not to rally her daughter with 
 this incident. She valued herself on 
 the famil}^ from which she had de- 
 scended, and she was resolved if possi- 
 ble, though herself had erred much in 
 marrying a merchant, to secure for 
 the accomplished, the favourite, the 
 charming Eliza, a husband whose in- 
 dependence might entitle him to the 
 possession and enjoyment of so much 
 excellence. 
 
 A mere student who might be des-
 
 32 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 tined for the army, the navy, the bustle 
 of mercantile life, or the obscurity of 
 Highland monotonous rusticity , was not 
 therefore likely to meet with much en- 
 couragement from a mother, who con- 
 sidered her daughter fit to grace the 
 arm of a lord, or the carriage of a 
 countess. But it was not necessary, 
 till something more convincing should 
 occur, to remark to Eliza personally on 
 the folly of early attachment; and yet, 
 unless the visits of St. Clyde were in- 
 terdicted, he could not be prevented 
 from conversing occasionally with her, 
 as he was permitted hitherto from the 
 terms on which he stood with Augustus 
 and Mr. Stuart.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 33 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 They loved ; but such their guihless passion was. 
 
 As in the dawn of time informed the heart 
 
 Of innocence and undissembling truth. 
 
 'Twas friendship, heightened by the mutual wish; 
 
 Th' enchanting hope and sympathetic glow 
 
 Beamed from the mutual eye. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 In about a fortnight after the circum- 
 stance just mentioned, St. Clyde was 
 solicited by Augustus to drink tea 
 with the family, and Eliza betrayed in 
 his presence a degree of embarrassment 
 still greater than the former ; for in 
 listening to an argument between her 
 father and St. Clyde, she continued to 
 pour tea into a cup till the saucer was 
 nearly full also. Her mother thought 
 it was now high time to interpose her 
 authority, and rouse her daughter's 
 
 C 5
 
 34 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 pride, if she had any of her mother's 
 spirit in her breast ; and accordingly, 
 on the following morning, she addressed 
 the young lady in terms to the follow- 
 ing effect. 
 
 " From the manner in which I have 
 strictly performed, till this hour, all 
 the duties of a mother, you must be 
 aware, my dear, that any advice I am 
 now going to give you, can have only 
 for its object your happiness and settle- 
 ment in life. Yes, my dear, when I 
 reflect on the family from which I have 
 descended, the many highly respect- 
 able branches into which that family 
 is divided, the various relations which 
 subsist again between the individual 
 branches of my family and other fa- 
 milies of the first consequence that I 
 could easily name ; the titles, the crests 
 some of the more remote branches of 
 the family bear, the style they live in, 
 the opportunities they have of intro-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 35 
 
 ducing into the higher circles the fe- 
 male part, especially, of their friends 
 and distant relations ; you are not to 
 affect surprise when I tell you, that, 
 with your education, manners, and 
 person, you ought to rank with the 
 best of them, and it would certainly be 
 great folly on your part to throw 
 yourself away on any man, who is not 
 far above the son of a poor Highland 
 laird." 
 
 '' Indeed, my dear mother, you may 
 rely on my duty ; I shall never do any 
 thing contrarj^ to your and my father's 
 wishes; but I hope neither he nor you 
 will desire to fix my destiny with any 
 gentleman who may not be the object 
 of my esteem, and to whom I could 
 look at all times, not only as my hus- 
 band, but also as my friend and pro- 
 tector ; and as you know that I am 
 perfectly disengaged, I am very much
 
 36 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 surprised at your giving me this piece 
 of advice." 
 
 "I beg your pardon, my dear; 1 
 have thought there is occasion for ad- 
 monition, else I certainly should not 
 have offered it. Your conduct one 
 day about a fortnight ago, when St. 
 Clyde came here with Augustus, 
 was " 
 
 " What was it, my dear mother ?" 
 
 " Too evident to be mistaken by me, 
 my sweet child ; and I hope you will 
 at least think of making choice of a 
 worthy clergyman, an advocate, a 
 writer to the signet, or indeed any 
 lawyer at the head of the law, or one 
 of our fine young physicians v;hose 
 father is well settled in a good business, 
 any professional man who has the ex- 
 pectancy of rising in his profession ; 
 but " 
 
 *' Dear mother, there is scarcely any
 
 ST. CLYDE. '^'^ 
 
 occasion for advice ; for I do not know 
 my own heart, if I am capable of form- 
 ing an attachment I should be ashamed 
 to conceal." 
 
 " Very likely you do not, Miss 
 Eliza." 
 
 ** Dear me, mamma, I considered 
 the appearance of embarrassment into 
 which St. Clyde was thrown, as the 
 effect of some reverie " 
 
 " Into which your appearance, my 
 dear child, had thrown him." 
 
 " No indeed; but I confess the con* 
 fusion into which his embarrassment 
 cast me, made an impression " 
 
 '* Talk not of impressions, Eliza, if 
 you have any respect for yourself, for 
 your father, for me, and my family." 
 
 ** You do not doubt, I hope, mamma, 
 my duty and respect both to you and 
 my papa." 
 
 *' Then, the advice of your mother 
 should always be seasonable."
 
 38 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 " I shall always take it as such." 
 
 " But I have not done with this af- 
 fair yet." 
 
 '^ Indeed you may, my dear mamma." 
 
 " What ! cease to give you advice, 
 child, when it was but last night you 
 again partook of this Highlandman's 
 reveries. I don't know what to call it 
 — embarrassment, stuff and nonsense, 
 and in place of— — " 
 
 " I was listening and looking to my 
 dear papa reprobating the inhuman 
 conduct of parents forcing their chil- 
 dren to choose a profession contrary to 
 their son's inclination ; and so the af- 
 fair of the tea happened." 
 
 " And had not your father the best 
 of the argument with the Highlander?" 
 
 " My papa can argue with any per- 
 son, and in my opinion he fairly beat 
 the young gentleman." 
 
 "Very true; that's spoken like a 
 good girl; but you know young ladies
 
 ST. CLYDE. 39 
 
 are not very good judges of v.hat is 
 best for their future welfare; they are 
 so apt to be carried away by appear- 
 ances : yes ! many a fine woman has 
 been lost by the address of a handsome 
 young fellow. It is well, my love, when 
 young ladies are wholly guided by the 
 advice ot their parents." 
 
 " I am not, my dear mother, going 
 to argue against you." 
 
 " Well, then, you promise never, if 
 possible " 
 
 **I never had any thoughts of being 
 on any familiar terms even of conver- 
 sation with St. Clyde ; and if you de- 
 sire it, it shall never be so, if I can help 
 it." 
 
 ** You are a good girl ; you can help 
 it, and I desire it may be so." 
 
 In that city the word professional 
 had not been corrupted when Mrs. 
 Stuart lived it was confined but to 
 three professions, and to have practised
 
 40 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 in any one of them, required a collegiate 
 education of at least seven years. It 
 was therefore with good reason, that 
 a woman so very remotely related to 
 some great families as uas Mrs Stuart, 
 and the wife of a merchant too, should 
 look upon the marriage of her daughter 
 with a physician, an advocate, or a 
 clergyman, as an honourable and withal 
 a desirable match. 
 
 Mrs. Stuart had quitted her daugh- 
 ter's presence on some pretence or 
 other, and left us room to elucidate her 
 ideas of a professional match for her 
 daughter^ but she soon returned, and 
 thus the discourse was conducted. 
 
 " I hope, mamma, you will not think 
 of saying any thing more on this mat- 
 ter." 
 
 "That must depend on circum- 
 stances." 
 
 '^ If • I had given St. Clyde any en- 
 couragement, if any clandestine trans- 
 action had occurred through the
 
 ST. CLYDE. 41 
 
 agency of Augustus, you might rate 
 me, in good earnest, for want of duty 
 and respect for myself: but nothing of 
 the kind has transpired ; it has been, 
 on my part, but that friendly esteem 
 one ought to feel for the companion of 
 one*s brother. Dear me ! what ami 
 saying ? forgive me, mamma, if I have 
 trespassed on your good sense, and be- 
 lieve me again, that I shall never play 
 you and my dear papa false in my 
 conduct with young St. Clyde." 
 
 " My love, I have spoken freely to 
 you; we are free and open with each 
 other ; and we shall dismiss this matter 
 for the present. — But, Eliza, has not 
 Mrs. Akers, from Exeter, dismissed her 
 nursery-maid ?" 
 
 " Yes, mamma, she has ; and I have 
 heard papa say, that people who are 
 incessantly changing their servants are 
 fitter to serve than to command.'* 
 
 *' My dear child, in the families in
 
 42 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 the higher circles to which I am re- 
 lated, servants are less seldom changed 
 than among the middle circles of life, 
 to which your papa belongs." 
 
 " How is that, mamma?" 
 
 '* How is that ? How can it be other- 
 wise, when ladies commit themselves 
 to new servants ; when they indulge 
 their maids in conversations on their 
 families, and make them privy to the 
 failings of their husbands ? And it is 
 this, my love, this making of them 
 their equals, intrusting them with 
 what has no connexion with their duty, 
 gossiping when work ought to be going 
 on, talking about the conduct and 
 characters of former servants, the 
 goodness of this lady and the peevish- 
 ness of that one; and can, my love, a 
 lady who makes her servant her bosom 
 companion, expect that that servant 
 will not take liberties in process of time, 
 and evince a want of respect, first, for
 
 ST. CLYDE. 43 
 
 her lady's commands, then a contempt 
 of her authority, till the lady is obliged, 
 because the servant will not be found 
 fault with, to turn off the girl who 
 knows all her secret counsels ?" 
 
 Eliza assented by a slight inclination 
 of her head -, and her mother proceed- 
 ed. 
 
 " But, my dear child, habits of in- 
 timacy are not confined to the heads 
 of families alone; the children often 
 take such liberties with servants as are 
 unwarrantable, in telling the foibles of 
 their mother, the severity of their fa- 
 ther; and from the nursery these tales 
 are carried to the relations' houses of 
 the servants. Thank God ! I have kept 
 my children from this pernicious folly; 
 and from a still worse one, that of being 
 the reprovers of my servants. There's 
 Mrs. Akers, she never reproves her 
 servants ; indeed she cannot, poor wo- 
 man, reprove those over whom she has
 
 44 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 lost all authority; but she dispatches 
 little Mary Ann to the kitchen, the 
 laundry, or the nursery, to deliver a 
 reproof she had not herself the face to 
 appear with; and I once happened to 
 hear Mary Ann, arrayed with the au- 
 thority of her mamma, finding fault, 
 giving orders, countermanding those 
 orders, approving and censuring, when 
 the poor child could not judge of the 
 merit or demerit of the conduct of the 
 servants." 
 
 Eliza pitied poor Mary Ann, and 
 Mrs. Stuart talked. 
 
 " The conduct of Mrs. Akers puts 
 her children (for the two boys are 
 trained to it also) upon the watch to 
 observe the servants' conduct, when it 
 would be much better they were get- 
 ting their lessons or improving their 
 minds by reading ; and I'll wager my 
 thimble, that Mary Ann won't be 
 taught the duties of a mistress of a
 
 ST. CLYDE. 45 
 
 house before she be solicited to perform 
 them for some poor gentleman. Her 
 mamma says she has no business with 
 it, yet she is always amongst the ser- 
 vants, and can do nothing except 
 wrangle with them, and carry tales 
 from the kitchen to the parlour, and 
 from the nursery to the kitchen. Ah ! 
 my dear Eliza, where there are slight 
 bonds of union, a total want of obli- 
 gatiouj arising as naturally from a 
 change of situation as from a want of 
 principle in both parties; where the 
 latter is the prolific source of the evil 
 both parties have to encounter; when 
 the mistress knows she can enforce her 
 authority by the name of her husband, 
 and defend it by her independence; 
 she is no longer loved, butfeared, hated^ 
 and disobeyed ; when her ignorance 
 and narrowness of mind lead her to 
 domineer, the servants do their work 
 as beings who were born to serve only,
 
 46 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 and serve only to be forgotten in that 
 perpetual change their mistress has 
 been accustomed to. Servants, my 
 dear Eliza, are living instruments of 
 economy, the rational furniture of a 
 house; and if Mrs. Akers have any 
 glimmerings of light on the subject, 
 she destroys them by a false principle; 
 she does not know that economy, so 
 far as it regards inanimate things, serves 
 only the low purposes of gain ; but that 
 where it respects human beings, it 
 rises higher, and forms a very consider- 
 able branch as well of domestic happi- 
 ness as of wealth." 
 
 But just at this instant Mr. Stuart 
 entered the room ; and the philosophi- 
 cal reasonings of this lady were lost to 
 Eliza, and of course to St. Clyde, to 
 whom she afterwards related the con- 
 tents of this conversation with her 
 mamma.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 47 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 And now, fair dames, methinks I see 
 
 You listen to my minstrelsy ; 
 
 Your waving locks ye backward throw. 
 
 And sidelong bend your necks of snow : 
 
 Ye ween to hear a melting tale 
 
 Of two true lovers in a dale. 
 
 The Lay of the Last Minstrel. 
 
 Eliza hitherto was not very cu- 
 rious to learn from her brother, the 
 definite character of St. Clyde; all she 
 had heard of him was, that he was de- 
 scended from a respectable Highland 
 family : she thought he was so, because 
 his father lived in Bute ; but the man- 
 ner in which he acquitted himself in 
 the argument with her papa on the 
 preceding evening, and the lecture 
 her mother had read to her on the 
 propriety of avoiding his company,
 
 48 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 determined her to take an opportunity 
 that very evening of questioning Au- 
 gustus respecting the family of St. 
 Clyde, and the estimate put upon his 
 character and abilities by the profes- 
 sors under whom he studied at the 
 college. 
 
 Of the former, Augustus could speak 
 only from the report of Levingstone ; — 
 
 ^' And is he, Augustus, the son of a 
 Highland laird ? Is his father not a 
 chief?" 
 
 '^ I do not know, Eliza, whether 
 we can in strictness call him a High- 
 lander; his father lives in the island of 
 Bute; and his popularity is so widely 
 extended over the island, that, I am 
 told by Mr. Levingstone, our fellow- 
 student, the name of the Laird St. 
 Clyde is authority for any thing, and 
 the fear of his frown is enough to 
 check the most audacious ; his virtues 
 are not exercised to procure mere
 
 ST. CLYDE. 49 
 
 esteem, and gain blind obedience ; 
 Levingstonetells me, they have resulted 
 from a pure philosophy, and that they 
 are not confined to the selfish princi- 
 ple ; they embrace the entire range of 
 the people amongst whom he lives ; 
 and the urbanity of his manners at 
 once conciliates the ill-disposed, and 
 reconciles to their duty the refractory 
 and disobedient." 
 
 "This good man must certainly be 
 a fine model for his son ; but, Augus- 
 tus, what is St. Clyde thought of at 
 college?" 
 
 *' Why, of that I can speak from 
 personal observation : there is no one 
 I would prefer to him as a fellow-stu- 
 dent and intimate companion. But 
 why do you put so many questions to 
 me about him ?" 
 
 " I really don't know." 
 
 '' You must have some reason; and 
 if you act by me with the same in- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 genuousness that he does, you have no 
 reason to fear the disclosure of any 
 secret by nie." 
 
 " What, has he been confiding any 
 secrets to you that involve me in their 
 consequences. — -Secret ! I have none, 
 sir !" 
 
 <« Eh ! what ! come, Eliza, no co- 
 quetry !'* 
 
 "You know I have none, you have 
 told me so before ; and you only up- 
 braid me now with it, in order to tease 
 and vex me. — But, but, but " 
 
 "What is the but? Out with it, 
 EHza." 
 
 " Augustus, what could make you 
 serious ? I hope one day to see you — 
 sober and sad. Now don't laugh, you 
 are a tiresome creature." 
 
 " Well, I will be serious, if my 
 mirth gives you pain, only tell me, are 
 you " 
 
 "There now, you are off again. Oh !
 
 ST. CLYDE. 51 
 
 Augustus, I am greatly afraid you will 
 never be steady in your attachments, 
 you treat me so lightly." 
 
 ^' Pho, pho ! — tell me what you 
 have to say." 
 
 " Well then, if you will have it, our 
 mamma lectured me so to-day about 
 St. Clyde, and Heaven knows we never 
 spoke to each other but in the pre- 
 sence of some of our family; and though 
 I have attempted to stifle the recol- 
 lection of even his name, there is a 
 secret pleasure in remembering he is 
 your friend, but " 
 
 " Again a hut: you will never be 
 able, nor our mother either, to make 
 him your butt ; he is too great a philo- 
 sopher, young as he is, to be carried 
 away by your pretty face, my elegant 
 sister. I beg pardon; do not frown; 
 you are handsome, you know you are ; 
 and St. Clyde looks, as a philosopher, 
 with calm admiration on a girl of your 
 
 D 2 
 
 UfN'IVERSITY OF 
 ILLif^OIS LIBRARY
 
 i2 ST. CLYDK. 
 
 appearance and ' address. He is na 
 stoick, and I think I know enough of 
 him, to assure you, he regards Miss 
 Ehza Stuart as a being of a superior 
 order in the sex to which you belong." 
 
 '^ For shame, Augustus, you trifle 
 with me. I don't know that I deserve 
 these praises, but I suppose St. Clyde 
 is as respectable as " 
 
 ''As any young man at college. You 
 are not in love, Eliza ? 
 
 " This is really provoking, Augus- 
 tus, and I shall not readily speak of 
 him again to you." 
 
 '' Please yourself j but if I were a 
 young lady worthy of so good and in- 
 telligent a youth, St. Clyde is the 
 man, my dear girl, I would select, of 
 ail others, for my partner and guardian 
 in life." 
 
 ** I declare, Augustus^ you are fit to 
 be his confident; and when he wants a 
 wife, advise him to employ you to
 
 ST, CLYDE. S3 
 
 f>reak the ice. Good bye; go to your 
 books, and try to be in love with doses 
 and nostrums; you have too much 
 gallantry for a doctor." 
 
 The circumstance of the tea-cup 
 and saucer did not pass unperceived 
 by St. Clyde; and a week had scarcely 
 elapsed when Augustus brought him 
 to his father's ; and as fortune would 
 have it, Mr. and Mrs. Stuart had gone 
 to Dalkieth. Augustus had been in- 
 formed of their intended journey, and 
 his mother had given orders, that none 
 of his fellow-students should come 
 near the house during their absence: 
 but he flew into a very violent passion 
 at hearing the visits of his friends inter- 
 dicted, and left the room with a coun- 
 tenance that indicated the composition 
 of his mind ; for he was naturally of a 
 very forward temper, and impatient of 
 contradiction; and he accordingly 
 brought St. Clyde to his father's in de- 
 spite of maternal authority.
 
 04 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 Augustus certainly took very little 
 concern in what transpired under his 
 paternal roof, except as connected 
 with his own studies, and the injunc- 
 tion of his mother he pretended to his 
 sister to have quite escaped his memo- 
 ry; but he hoped she would not be 
 displeased to see St. Clyde. It would 
 have been too great rudeness in her to 
 have reminded Augustus of their mo- 
 ther's orders ; for, to have turned out 
 his friend might not only have offend- 
 ed him, but brought on Mrs. Stuart 
 the title of peevish j but the young 
 lady got a promise from the rest of the 
 family, that, unless asked by mamma, 
 none of them would discover the inad- 
 vertency and neglect of Augustus in 
 bringing his friend to the house ; such 
 was Eliza's construction of this passion- 
 ate brother's conduct. 
 
 The young people of Mr. Stuart's 
 family were this evening their own di- 
 rectors, and whilst Eliza was prepar-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 55 
 
 ing tea for them, Augustus reminded 
 St. Clyde of a volume of Pliny that 
 had been left on a table in his lodgings, 
 and proposed to go and fetch it whilst 
 his sisters were preparing tea ; and 
 *' he hoped St. Clyde would be able to 
 find amusement for ten minutes in the 
 company of three gidd}^ girls.'' 
 
 One of the Miss Stuarts was copy- 
 ing some music; her cousin was stu- 
 dying the celestial globe; Eliza was 
 getting the tea ready, and St. Clyde 
 sat unmoveable at the same table; nor 
 did he raise his voice from Augustus' 
 departure till Eliza broke silence. 
 
 " I believe, Mr. St. Clyde, students 
 are great tea-drinkers; are they not?" 
 
 *' Students are very often more at- 
 tracted by the fair hands that make 
 it, Miss.Stuart," said he, smiling. 
 
 Looking at him with all the grace 
 and tenderness of her sex and nature, 
 she returned no answer, but arose sud-
 
 56 ST. GLVDt. 
 
 denly from the table, pretending to go 
 and see whether her sister was going 
 on accurately : he could perceive her 
 handkerchief applied to her eyes ; she 
 would not suffer him to witness the 
 tear that fell ; but she soon returned, 
 and the apology she offered for rising 
 so abruptly, was very frankly received 
 by him. Augustus now returned. 
 
 After tea he took occasion, in the 
 absence of the musical and astrono- 
 mical students, to hint to St. Clyde the 
 pleasure Miss Eliza derived from the 
 visits he paid the family; and added, 
 that as he knew the presence of his 
 friend delighted his sister, he hoped St. 
 Clyde would repeat them more fre- 
 quently: their father made him wel- 
 come, and if mothers did frown and 
 forbid 
 
 Eliza arose from the table. " Don't 
 leave us, Eliza; nobody in the roon^ 
 heard what I said -^ and if they both-
 
 ST. CLVDE. 57 
 
 did, if I have not expressed your feel- 
 ings, 'tis because I have not understood 
 a late conversation we had together." 
 
 " Mr. St. Clyde, 1 beg your pardon ; it 
 isjustas I suspected : this youth has no 
 bounds to his attachment; secrets he 
 cannot keep : you imagine, Augustus, 
 I need to be told how to respect your 
 friend as if I had no respect for your- 
 self.^* 
 
 " Very pretty indeed ; didn't you — " 
 
 " This is too much, my dear Augus- 
 tus. Miss Eliza, I beg your pardon, 
 but your brother will joke with me, 
 too, on a very delicate subject." 
 
 i' There is no need, sir, for asking 
 my pardon ; all 1 request of you is to 
 prevent, by your authority, this bro- 
 ther of mine from being gallant by im- 
 pertinence." 
 
 " Forgive me, my dear sister ; St. 
 Clyde is not the first who has been 
 gallant by proxy." 
 
 D5
 
 58 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 "There again, Augustus; did you 
 ever read of a man being sick by 
 proxy?" 
 
 " You hear with your own ears, St. 
 Clyde, that Miss Eliza can be jocular 
 when a joke will hide the disease she 
 is labouring under.'* 
 
 " Pray have done, Augustus; you 
 are carrying the matter too far." 
 
 " Well, well, my dear sister, we'll 
 give it over now: I shall not tease you 
 so again, but I had taken a vow to tell 
 St. Clyde." 
 
 Thus ended this incidental chit-chat: 
 it was interesting however to St. Clyde, 
 and it was an innocent but terrible ter- 
 mination which Augustus gave their 
 parting that evening. 
 
 " Good night ! go straight home, St. 
 Clyde ; go to bed early, rise early, but 
 do not awake in a reverie about our 
 Ehza: and you. Miss Eliza, pray don't
 
 ST. CLYDE. 5^ 
 
 attempt to dream about my friend St. 
 Clyde." 
 
 She was not a little chagrined at this 
 speech ; but it was an endless work to 
 banter with Augustus, who appeared 
 intent on extorting from her a confes- 
 sion of a passion, the existence of 
 which she did not think herself ac- 
 quainted with ; for she was not igno- 
 rant that St. Clyde had too much re- 
 spect for himself, to neglect his studies 
 on any pretence whatever, and he was 
 no favourite with her mother. 
 
 St. Clyde returned to his lodgings, 
 filled with strange and unaccountable 
 emotions, and strove to dissipate, by 
 intense and abstruse studies, the re- 
 membrance of all he had that evening 
 heard. 
 
 But the struggles between the duty 
 and feelings of this interesting young 
 lady, made her hope that a good night's
 
 60 ST. CLYDEr 
 
 rest, and the early and continued duties^ 
 of another day, would compose her 
 mind, and leave not a nook where the 
 image of St. Clyde might find refuge 
 and repose. 
 
 The visits of St. Clyde to the family 
 of Mr. Stuart were not kept secret from 
 Levingstone; but he shut up in im- 
 penetrable darkness his knowledge of 
 Eliza, and mentioned not even the 
 name of this young lady, to one ta 
 whom in every thing else he laid open 
 the innermost recesses of his ingenuous 
 heart. And indeed, though Leving- 
 stone was acquainted with Augustus,, 
 he had never been at Mr. Stuart's house, 
 and did not so much as know there 
 was in existence the charming Eliza 
 Stuart. But if the metaphysicians 
 should not be able to account for so 
 strange a tergiversation in the conduct 
 of St. Clyde, every one, whether gentle
 
 ST. CLYDE. 61 
 
 or simple, whether amorous or phleg- 
 matic, that has felt the force of the 
 pure and honest passion of this young 
 man, can describe the symptoms of a 
 disease which is too often too soon 
 contracted, and too speedily, alas I 
 cured by a very improper, and fre- 
 quently by very illicit, regime.
 
 62 ST. CLYDE* 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Thither he hied, enamoured of the scene: 
 For rocks on rocks, piled, as by magic spell, 
 Here scorched with lightning, there with ivy green, 
 Fenced from the north and east this savage dell ; 
 Southward a mountain rose with easy swell. 
 Whose long, long groves eternal murmur made j 
 And toward the western sun a streamlet fell. 
 Where, through the cliffs, the eye, remote surveyed 
 
 Blue hills, and glittering waves, and skies in gold 
 arrayed . 
 Along this narrow valley you might see 
 The wild deer sporting on the meadow ground. 
 And here and there a solitary tree 
 Or mossy stone, or rock with woodbine crowned : 
 Oft did the cliffs reverberate the sound 
 Of parted fragments tumbling from on high ; 
 And from the summit of that craggy mound 
 The perching eagle oft was heard to cry. 
 
 Or on resounding wings to shoot athwart the sky. 
 
 Beattie's Minstrel. 
 
 This session at college glided away 
 both agreeably and profitably to St. 
 Clyde and Levingstone, and when they 
 were about to separate, to go ( ach to
 
 ST. CLYDE. 63 
 
 the bosom of his family, their regret 
 was alleviated by the reciprocal deter- 
 mination and avowal of mutual epis- 
 tolary correspondence ; for they both 
 fancied they had yet two more sessions 
 to be together at the university of 
 Edinburgh. And whilst St. Clyde des- 
 canted on the necromantic art of writ- 
 ing, Levingstone observed there was 
 one circumstance which very much 
 depreciated its value; for 'betters are 
 records, and those who, like me, have 
 had great packages of them by acci- 
 dent or carelessness submitted to their 
 eye, will be diffident of committing to 
 paper their hasty opinions, undigested 
 sentiments, and careless effusions; most 
 of all will they fear to chronicle the ex- 
 isting circumstances of their friends or 
 of themselves, lest some unconcerned 
 spectator should deride what he wants 
 understanding or feeling to compre 
 hend.'»
 
 64 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 " Well, then, my dear Levingstone, 
 to put our letters on the footing with 
 our conversations, let them, by mutual 
 agreement, faithfully performed, be 
 burned as soon as their intended end of 
 communication is answered. We have 
 much to be thankful for in the privi- 
 lege in its ordinary state of security; 
 and, perhaps, it is pride alone that thus 
 shrinks from the possibility of an ex- 
 posure of imperfections." 
 
 "That is not necessary either, my 
 dear St. Clyde: we have had unsuspect- 
 ing confidence in each other hitherto; 
 and if I can keep my own secrets, those 
 of my friend, whom I value as myself, 
 can surely be preserved with the firmest 
 inviolability." 
 
 " It is a bargain, Levingstone ; and 
 let this pledge of my acquiescence in 
 your opinion be the guarantee of the 
 same fidelity on my part." 
 
 In the same week they left Edin-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 65 
 
 burgh in company with Augustus, 
 who intended to go to Bute. They left 
 the seat of learning with their minds 
 all ahve to the anticipation of future 
 increased friendship; and, taking a re- 
 trospective view of the advantages 
 each had derived from the other, they 
 looked back with satisfaction and re- 
 gret, and they thought of the suc- 
 ceeding session with eager and lively 
 hope. 
 
 From Glasgow, whither they had 
 come from Edinburgh, Levingstone 
 conducted St. Clyde and Augustus to 
 his father's at Kelvin (for that was 
 the name of the family-house of the 
 Levingstone's), Kelvin lodge was si- 
 tuated on the acclivity of a hill that 
 was washed by a rivulet of the same 
 name; and this hill in its turn was co- 
 vered by an immense mountain, which, 
 rising in a beautiful pyiamidical form, 
 was covered for three-fourths of its
 
 b6 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 height upwards by alternate portions 
 of copse, heath, wood, grass and moss. 
 — "And," said St. Clyde, "its nodding 
 plumes of pines bring to one's mind 
 the days when the plaids of our fore- 
 fathers rushed downitssides with thirsty 
 claymores, to drink the *' life-blood 
 of the red-hair'd Dane." — *' Or," said 
 Levingstone, " its waving pines, moan- 
 ing and creaking in the wind, resemble 
 the frailty of man in the storm of pas- 
 sion and affliction." — *^ But I," said Au- 
 gustus, " am not so heroic nor so sage. 
 Do you know, they put me in mind 
 of the merry looks of the miller's 
 daughter, whom I met in my herbaliz- 
 ing walk last year." 
 
 The lodge itself was an antique 
 building, the description of which, to 
 those who have seen it or others of 
 the same date, would not be interest- 
 ing ; it was even of the age of Bethlem 
 Hospital in Moorfields. Anne Bullen
 
 ST. CLYDE. S9 
 
 soothed the rugged temper of her ty- 
 rant and prince when its foundations 
 were laid. From its principal entrance 
 sloped a fine declivity; and if we take 
 into our view a hill that fenced the 
 right wing of this front, and the de- 
 dining roots of the crescent-formed 
 mountain on its left, we shall have the 
 picture of an ancient hall situate in 
 the bosom of hills. 
 
 The road to the house was easy of 
 access ; though to a stranger advancing 
 upon it from the distant military road, 
 the acclivity to the lofty mansion look- 
 ing difficult of access, gave it the ap- 
 pearance of an inaccessible ascent. 
 Levingstone, St. Clyde, and Augustus 
 entered this road by the gorge of a 
 rock that dated its origin as far back 
 as the flood, or some convulsion of 
 which human records bore no memo= 
 rial. On entering this gorge, the stran- 
 gers remarked that the weather-beaten
 
 6s ST. CLYDE. 
 
 rock seemed to threaten them with de- 
 struction by its direct perpendicular 
 appearance ; and an old tower, that 
 called itself but the remains of an im- 
 mense castle, reared its walls in the 
 same plane with the face of the rock ; 
 and the goats, when they browsed on 
 the top of this wall, seemed to question 
 the doctrine of gravitation ; or, if we 
 suppose them ignorant of Newton's 
 analysis, we must imagine that nature 
 had given them the power of climbing 
 like a woodpecker; for sure it is the 
 goats of Kelvin tower climbed as well 
 as greybeard could. 
 
 Still in advance some fifty yards of 
 this rock and tower, reared its rugged 
 heads another pile of rocks that form- 
 ed as it were the advanced redoubt ; 
 and its sides and top were covered by 
 some fine old birch-trees. 
 
 The roots of these rocks were hid 
 by a string of houses inhabited by
 
 ST. CLYDE. 69 
 
 poor but honest peasants ; on the left 
 hand of this gorge stood the extreme 
 end of a chain of rock that winded in 
 an elegant serpentine form, from the 
 hill on which Kelvin house stood ; and 
 the southern face of this twisted mass 
 was finely intersected by footpaths; 
 and a grove which the ancestors of 
 Levingstone had allowed to form itself 
 in the most romantic part of this 
 crooked hill, gave it the appearance of 
 laboured art, though in fact nature 
 had not employed any neighbouring 
 pictural and descriptive planner of 
 rural scenery to lay it out to advan- 
 tage ; and Mr. Levingstone gave the 
 whole, at a small expense, the bewitch- 
 ing appearance, and in summer the 
 luxuriance, of Italian scenerv. Per- 
 hapsif Tasso had inhabited the grotto, 
 whose Gothic rocky spires reared their 
 rugged heads o'er this dense wood, the
 
 70 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 world would have read of Kelvin grotto 
 as a place in Fairyland. 
 
 Mr. Levingstone's ancestors were 
 renowned in story for glorious deeds of 
 arms. His own services, when his 
 country's safety called for them, wer» 
 performed with skill and valour j his 
 hospitality was as free and liberal ; and 
 the fatigues he endured in the tented 
 field, gave him a higher relish for the 
 pleasures and comforts of domestic 
 happiness, and the sweets of a country 
 life. Formed by nature for bearing 
 hardships, and trained by education 
 for a life of fame, Mr. Levingtone's 
 military career had scarcely began, 
 when his name shone by the develop- 
 ment of those talents necessary for 
 counsel and extensive command. 
 
 But by one of those fatalities which 
 sometimes banish from the service abi- 
 lities of the first class, he was soon
 
 ST. CLYDE. 71 
 
 obliged to seek, in the bosom of his 
 family, an equivalent for the fame and 
 honour he found denied him in the ac- 
 tive and hazardous life of a soldier. He 
 returned to his family dissatisfied with 
 the conduct of a favourite, who, having 
 the " vantage ground," was shielded 
 from merited punishment for con- 
 duct that disgraced the profession. If 
 Levingstone left the army dissatisfied, 
 because justice came before him with 
 her hands chained, he was not dis- 
 couraged by any fears of not finding 
 happiness in the recollection of having 
 done his duty. If he had been disap- 
 pointed at not seeing a mercenary 
 coward punished for not appearing 
 with his regiment in the deadly breach, 
 Levingstone was not vanquished, since 
 the facts he undertook to prove were 
 firmly established. The partiality of 
 a minister rendered his prince's incli-
 
 T2 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 nation to allow the sentence of the 
 court-martial to have its course, of no 
 avail; and the same oblique policy that 
 saved this alien officer was copiously 
 lavished to white-wash his name, and 
 retrieve his honour; but still there was 
 no tongue between the bitter teeth of 
 envy, to defame the name of Leving- 
 stone. 
 
 Yet with every good quality about 
 him, Mr. Levingstone possessed the 
 veriest ^eccentricities; for being himself 
 an excellent classical scholar in his 
 youth, in his old age he was constantly 
 worrying Mrs. Levingstone with quota- 
 tions from Seneca, Xenophon, Lucian, 
 Cicero, and Tacitus ; and the very day 
 St. Clyde came to Kelvin, a long dis- 
 quisition was gone into on some Roman 
 coins, which had lately been dug up on 
 Kelvin estate, but which had never been 
 buried (Mr. Levingstone said) by any
 
 ST. CLYDE. 73 
 
 Romaiij since the vase that contained 
 them was of ancient Caledonian manu- 
 facture. 
 
 Though Mrs.Levingstone thought 
 the proper sphere of woman was mo- 
 desty of character, especially as so 
 many genuine qualities associate them- 
 selves in her whose heart never be- 
 trays any fears of being excelled, she 
 could never look upon her husband nor 
 hear him speak, even his tutored jargon, 
 without deriving pleasure from the con- 
 templation of his merits ; and she felt 
 herself reciprocally exalted in his esti- 
 mation, by acknowledging the depth 
 and extent of his learning. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 74 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ** So soft, so delicate, so sweet she came, 
 
 Youth's damask rose just maiithng on her cheek j 
 
 I gazed, I sighed, I caught the tender flame. 
 Felt the fond pang, and drooped with passion weak. 
 
 It was thus possessing that most 
 fascinating ornament of female beauty, 
 modesty, that Mrs. Levingstone rose 
 in the esteem of all who knew her; and 
 St.Clyde, from the first moment he saw 
 her, looked up to her as to a mother, 
 whose noble pride of conscious merit 
 always in this respect exalts her mind 
 to sentiments superior to those which 
 rankle in the breast of herwhoisgivento 
 disputation with her husband, because 
 his taste differs from hers on subjects 
 that involve the omission of no known 
 duty, nor sacrifice to any harmless ec-
 
 ST. CLYD£. 75 
 
 centricity the essence of any domestic 
 virtue. 
 
 It was also a peculiar trait in Mr. 
 Levingstone's character, to feel his 
 consequence greatly elevated in com- 
 pany when his guests touched upon 
 the heroic deeds of his ancestors, par- 
 ticularly the exploits of his own father 
 in Flanders under the duke of Marl- 
 borough ; for it was his fixed opinion, 
 that men could only preserve their free- 
 dom by asserting the privileges of free 
 men; and if the remembrance of those, 
 whose deeds of arms purchased that 
 freedom, still dwelt in a parent's breast, 
 the frequent narration of those deeds 
 in his family, by making the names 
 and memories of one's sires of old re- 
 wound in the ears and thrill the hearts 
 of their posterity, was a duty incum- 
 bent on every man who would not re- 
 lapse from liberty to despotism and 
 vindictive proscription. 
 
 E 9.
 
 76 ST. CLYDE, 
 
 St. Cljde listened with the deepest 
 attention to Mr. Levingslone; but, as 
 he thought the female [>art of the com- 
 pany slighted by the gentlemen en- 
 grossing the whole conversation; and, 
 as he never spoke with the insulting 
 condescension of masculine superi- 
 ority, nor the still more aggravating 
 exaggerations of ordinary gallantry; 
 he contrived to introduce some chit- 
 chat adapted to the taste of the ladies, 
 and their discourse turned on female 
 sensibility. This word had in those 
 days carried a charm along with it; it 
 had not, as now, been hackneyed by 
 novelists, and bandied about from the 
 milliner's work-table to the drawing- 
 room of a princess: it was a sterling 
 word from the days of Anne, till Ca- 
 meron of Lochiel embarked with his 
 Prince at Lochnanach, and arrived in 
 safety at Roseau near Morlaix in 
 Bretagne.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 77 
 
 But the word Sensibility is still used 
 by persons whose education and birth 
 give them opportunities of seeing and 
 knowing that refinement of mind and 
 manners, without the whining affecta- 
 tion of a modern boarding-school miss 
 of fifteen; without the vanity that 
 hangs to the tav/dry tinsel of romantic: 
 chivalry, when its real virtue and sin-; 
 cerity are vanished ; without the pen- 
 sive woe which we ridicule in a cheese- 
 monger's daughter, who amid the fumes 
 of a ripe Stilton weeps o'er the Myste- 
 ries of Udolpho, while her father is 
 bawling to her to hand him two far- 
 things for a halfpenny. 
 
 Mr. Levingstone argued that there 
 were various causes which contributed 
 to produce that acute sensibility dis- 
 coverable in women ; he thought that 
 the Author of our being had given 
 them all the senses and passions, feel- 
 ings and prejudices, common to our
 
 78 ST. CLYDE, 
 
 species, in a more elevated degree 
 than he had given to men. And this 
 he was certain was the primary cause: 
 but the concatenation of secondary 
 causes that lent their aid in support of 
 feminine sensibility were as various as 
 were the forms of the human counte- 
 nance, or the changes of a northern 
 atmosphere. 
 
 St. Clyde with great diffidence hint- 
 ed at viodestij^ the most enchanting 
 quality of a woman 5 which he thought, 
 as far as his observation had gone, was 
 the constant companion of genuine 
 sensibility. 
 
 Mr. Levingstone had always found 
 that where there was much sensibility, 
 there was also a great portion of ge- 
 nuine modesty; and that it was as 
 impossible for a lady of acute sensibi- 
 lity to be without modesty, as it was 
 impossible for a modest woman to be 
 destitute of sensibility: these quali-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 99 
 
 ties, he affirmed, were twin sisters, and 
 lived or died together; wherever the 
 one displayed herself, the other from a 
 sort of instinctive impulse, — they might 
 call it principle if they pleased, or the 
 anatomists of the human understand- 
 ing might weigh the term in the meta- 
 physical balance and determine its 
 genuineness, for no grammarian, lexi- 
 cographer, or rhetorician had defined 
 it, — but wherever sensibility displayed 
 her attractions, modesty drew down 
 her veil, lest the spectators should be 
 dazzled by the refulgent appearance 
 of so much excellence : for, conscious 
 of their respective and merited worth, 
 they needed no meretricious attrac- 
 tions to shine by borrowed excellence. 
 Jessie Levingstone had been chiefly 
 educated by her father, and could 
 therefore hold a discourse with him 
 on most subjects; and St. Clyde would 
 have spared her the pain of hearing
 
 80 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 his remarks praised, but she was de- 
 hghted to hear her papa on his favour- 
 ite theme. Whether it was to shine 
 before the young collegiates by a dis- 
 play of knowledge, or from the force 
 of habit in taking part with her father 
 in every discourse and argument he 
 engaged in, Jessie [observed that she 
 was aware her sex had a little more 
 impatience of intellect than the other ; 
 yet it afforded her a rich repast to hear 
 such freedom of discussion on the fe- 
 male character. She was thereby cor- 
 rected, or improved, or riveted in her 
 opinions, which she thought were 
 grounded on experience ; and she was 
 sure ladies who were distinguished for 
 the excellent qualities just mentioned, 
 would feel enraptured only by hearing 
 themselves praised by papa's decision, 
 and she did not see how that decision 
 could on any grounds be controverted. 
 Mrs. Burnfoot, who was also a visitor.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 81 
 
 glanced a side-long look at Jesse, that 
 spoke a volume of hatred and envy; 
 and St. Clyde, who had caught her 
 eye, by a steadfast but placid look so 
 disconcerted tlie poor woman, that the 
 sudden turn of her head in an opposite 
 direction was visible to all the com- 
 pany ; and the violent contortions of 
 her countenance, which she strove in- 
 stantly to compose, called down upon 
 her head these observations from her 
 husband Mr. Burnfoot. 
 
 " Setting aside the qualities which 
 have already been acknowledged to be 
 most engaging in woman, in every 
 other respect women are what cir- 
 cumstances have made them ; and all 
 the qualities by which they may be 
 distinguished in the division of the 
 scale of human existence, or in any con- 
 dition under that division, may be dis- 
 tinctly traced and referred to educa- 
 tion, to the laws of the family they 
 
 E 5
 
 82 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 have been born in, or to the jurispru- 
 dence of the country to which they 
 owe their birth; but particularly to 
 the treatnvent to which parents or 
 guardians have subjected them, when 
 they could not think for themselves, 
 and by the most obvious consequences 
 could not act but as infants." 
 
 " I do not know,'' replied Mrs. 
 Burnfoot, " what some people mean 
 by always talking about other people; 
 but I am sure there are some people as 
 good as other people, as well bred too, 
 of as good families too, as well able to 
 receive company too as some people. 
 Yes ! there are some people that would 
 be admitted into any genteel company, 
 though they had never seen some peo- 
 ple. I know very well there are some 
 people who would not find many a 
 door open to them, if their connexion 
 with some people did not give them a 
 master key for that purpose.'*
 
 ST*. CLYBSi. 83 
 
 This, all this, was spoken to her dear 
 husband, who, because he was a poor 
 man, had married this rich old woman; 
 and he felt the full force of her torrent 
 of speech, for he instantly begged Miss 
 Levingstone to oblige him and the 
 students with a little music. 
 
 Mrs. Burnfoot was requested by the 
 company to sing; indeed this lady's 
 failing lay in her boasted pedigree; she 
 sung with great effect. The spacious 
 drawing-room of Kelvin house was ex- 
 actly what the compass of her voice 
 wanted ; for where her notes had room 
 to swell they possessed a rich tone and 
 powerful volume ; and she executed 
 some songs in so superior a style of 
 taste, delicacy, and variety, that the 
 company universally admired her; and 
 Mr. Levingstone clamourously encored 
 the following trifle: 
 
 The drops of dew. 
 Of di'mond hue. 
 In myriad clusters round.
 
 84 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 The morcing's ray " '■ 
 
 Shall chase away. 
 Nor shall their trace be found 
 
 Agahi J 
 Nor shall their trace be found. 
 
 But O ! what ray 
 
 Can chase away 
 The tear of wild despair ; 
 
 For ever fixed. 
 
 By joy unmixed. 
 Unmoved by all but care 
 
 And love ; 
 Unmoved by all but care. 
 
 O ! that a tear. 
 
 So true and dear. 
 Should ever flow in vain j 
 
 The drops of dew 
 
 Bring verdure new. 
 The mourner's nought but pain. 
 
 False maid f 
 The mourner's nought but pain. 
 
 St. Clyde passed a few weeks at Kel- 
 vin in the most agreeable and enter- 
 taining manner. Air. Levingstone read 
 Homer with him, and studied botany 
 under Augustus, who, from the pro- 
 fession for which he was intended.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 85 
 
 could very well act the part of pro- 
 fessor ; and Mr. Levingstone would 
 often say, he acquired niore knowledge 
 from the rambles he took with his 
 young professor in the fields and ad» 
 joining woods and hills, than he had 
 ever learned from books. Augustus 
 had the address to conceal his irritable 
 temper 3 perhaps no youth ever pos- 
 sessed a mind so constituted for form- 
 ing itself to the situation and society 
 into which it was thrown; and there 
 certainly was much adroitness neces- 
 sary to enable him to bridle his pas- 
 sionate temper, and behave submis- 
 sively to Mrs. Burnfoot, who, more 
 than once, railed on him in good 
 earnest for presuming to instruct her 
 husband and Mr. Levingstone. But 
 the modesty and diffidence he put on, 
 were partly the result of the force of 
 education, and partly the effect of his 
 acquaintance with St. Clyde. Colin
 
 85 ST. CLTDE. 
 
 frequently warned him of the conse- 
 quences of engendering a disposition 
 of mind that might be set on fire by 
 every trifling accident or provocation ; 
 and Augustus, who could ill brook the 
 same admonition from his parents, 
 listened to St. Clyde, and condescended 
 to practise dissimulation ; and to be 
 modest, diffident, pliant in his man- 
 ners, elegant in his conversation, and 
 humble in his gait.
 
 ST. CLYDE. ^ 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 And say, without our hopes, without our fears. 
 Without the home that phghted love endears. 
 Without the smile from partial beauty won, 
 O! what were man ? — a world without a sun. 
 
 Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. 
 
 Jessie Levingstone was an elegant 
 woman, but she did not know it. In 
 traversing the neighbouring fields, and 
 woods, and glens, and hills with her 
 father and our students, there were 
 many and fair opportunities given to 
 Augustus to make himself an interest- 
 ing object to her. When the reader 
 has pictured to himself one of the finest 
 female forms, and is told that 
 
 Her eye was the morning's brightest ray. 
 
 And her neck like the swans in lona bay; 
 
 Her teeth the ivory polished new. 
 
 And -her lip like the morel when glossed with dew^
 
 88 ST. CLVDE. 
 
 While under her veil, as it waved in air. 
 Were seen the ringlets of jet black hair : — 
 Her breast w^as graceful and round withal, — 
 Her leg was taper, her foot was small. 
 And her tread so light that it flung no sound 
 On listening ear, or echo around ; 
 
 he will not be astonished that Augus- 
 tus, w^ho had hitherto never formed 
 any youthful attachment, should be 
 captivated by Miss Levi ngs tone. Nor 
 have her beauty and elegant form been 
 exaggerated : she was really what our 
 verses have described her; and she had 
 all the ardour of female youthful tem- 
 perament to give, if possible, a still 
 greater lustre to the finish which the 
 lavish hand of nature had given her. 
 
 In the excursions which Mr. Leving- 
 stone's family and tlieir visitors took, 
 the grotto, a most retired retreat, was 
 their general rendezvous; and this place 
 afforded Augustus many facilities to 
 render himself agreeable to Jessie. 
 Here was an elegant classical scholar.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 89 
 
 and a man of science too, thrown out 
 of all his philosophj^ in a "little 
 month," and now displaying all the 
 virtues of a passion that rendered his 
 rugged temper the resting-place of do- 
 cility. Indeed there never was a con- 
 version so complete. He was quite 
 a new man; the ease, the softness, and 
 the grace of Jessie's temper did every 
 thing. He made no attempt to inspire 
 her with the passion he had received in 
 so lively a manner from her modest 
 blush and animated features; her sweet 
 temper conspired to impart to his a 
 docile ease, of which few instances 
 could be produced as the mere effect ; 
 the force of a passion very opposite to 
 what he displayed v/hen his mother 
 charged him not to intrude on her 
 family any of his fellow-students. And 
 there were no attentions came from 
 this innocent artless maid to set forth 
 her charms, indeed she was not aware
 
 90 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 she possessed the talents for drawing 
 forth the lavish commendations, which 
 Augustus bestowed, — a virtuous edu- 
 cation, the prime and bloom of woman, 
 those sweetly-delicious conversations, 
 those private lonely interviews, that 
 something which a mj^sterious confi- 
 dence, an innocent complaisance be- 
 stow, and every thing else the reader 
 can supply: we will not ransack the in- 
 gredients further ; 
 
 For love pursues an ever devious race. 
 True to the winding lineaments of grace. 
 
 It was so, and there the matter must 
 rest. Augustus was precipitated from 
 the high throne of philosophy and an 
 unbending mind; and he and Jessie, 
 true to nature's kindest teaching, were 
 soon and imperceptibly of the same 
 feelings. She was happy only when 
 she caught his smile, or caught with 
 rapture every word that 'scaped his 
 balmy lips.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 51' 
 
 Wlienever Colin found this uncon* 
 sciously loving pair in the grotto, and 
 observed the dumb language of their 
 eyes, and contrasted with this the calm 
 and serenity which he saw reign in 
 this solitude, the grief that consumed 
 him in reflecting on the feelings which 
 Ehza seemed to be possessed with 
 when he parted from her, was rendered 
 exquisitely lively and bitter. Friend- 
 ship, which in the world is hardly a 
 sentiment, was a passion in Kelvin 
 grotto. Jessie, by that indescribablesen- 
 sibility reason has no sway over, had 
 attracted entirely to herself the heart 
 of Augustus. Pleasure was a shadow, 
 love was their dream; their hearts, full 
 of each other, exhaled that mutual 
 consolation which the silence of the 
 lips gives to the eyes. These two vir- 
 tuous hearts, formed for each other, 
 thought it not criminal to seek each 
 other, and to attract and captivate re-
 
 92 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 ciprocally ; but the eloquence of their 
 eyes spared these two lovers' delicacy 
 even in the confession of those tender 
 inquietudes which sometimes afflict 
 love. At length it became this, — when 
 Augustus perceived in the eyes of 
 Jessie any mark of sorrow, it was to 
 him as if all nature had been eclipsed ^ 
 and when she saw him sad, she sup- 
 posed herself always the cause ; but 
 Augustus, now the most amiable of 
 men to be loved, would dissolve and 
 dissipate her grief and wildest sorrow 
 by reproaching himself with their mu- 
 tual faults. 
 
 Jessie, now in the bloom of her youth^ 
 and fired with a passion whose effects 
 she could not easily conceal, had all 
 of beauty which is the image of a sen- 
 sible heart; but sorrow and tears had 
 taken off its freshness, like a rose which 
 the sun has withered, but which still 
 leaves us capable of judging, in its Ian*
 
 ST. CLYDE. 93 
 
 guishing state, of all the beauty it had 
 in the morning. And Mrs. Leving- 
 stone perceived the altered colour of her 
 daughter; and, when she had made 
 several metaphysical experiments, the 
 labour of which she might have dis- 
 pensed with by one minute's retrospec- 
 tive sraze at the honev-moon of sensi- 
 bility and mutual temperament her- 
 self had gone through, she announced 
 to her husband the discovery she had 
 made ; but he gave her \evy little en- 
 couragement. 
 
 ^' My dear, these things will be so ; 
 it is folly to offer to prevent them, un- 
 less we could follow ^neas where 
 
 Lethaeuir,que,domusplacida3 qui praenatat,amRem; 
 
 where you and I, my love, could see 
 
 Anims, quibus altera fato 
 Corpora debentur, Lethaei ad fiuminis undam 
 Secures laiices et longa oblivia potant. 
 
 But Mrs. Levingstone was not an 
 imperious mother; she had the fullest
 
 94 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 confidence in the prudence of her 
 daughter ; she was the very reverse of 
 Mrs. Stuart. In fact, the education of 
 Jessie v^^as of that description, which 
 should form the mind for excellence, 
 and preserve it from the deceitful snares 
 of the seductive principles of any art- 
 ful, designing villain ; and every thing 
 Mrs. Levingstone had seen about Au- 
 gustus, confirmed her secret opinion, 
 that Jessie might make a worse choice.
 
 ST. CLYDi:. 95 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Beside, he was a shrewd philosopher. 
 And had read every text and gloss over: 
 Whate'er the crabbed'st author hath. 
 He understood by implicit faith : 
 Whatever sceptic could enquire for. 
 For every why, he had a wherefore. 
 
 HUDIBRAS. 
 
 Mr. Levingstone was the patron of 
 an author who lived at Kilpatrick, and 
 this man now joined our students at 
 Kelvin. He had along with him seve- 
 ral bundles of manuscript : one of 
 these was a history of Scotland he had 
 been composing -, and nothing would 
 do, but young Levingstone, Stuart, 
 and St. Clyde, having been bred at the 
 university of Edinburgh, must hear 
 the outline of this history. The author 
 thought, as his young friends were but
 
 96 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 little acquainted with the snares of the 
 world, and as they might soon be going 
 into it, they might derive some little 
 profit from his history. Mr. Leving- 
 stone, when the discourse turned on the 
 world, was sure to rap out one of Cato's 
 distichs— 
 
 Rebus et in censu si non est quod fuit ante, 
 Fac vivas contentus eo, quod tempora praebent: 
 
 and he insisted on the author, not only 
 reading the out-line of his history, but 
 on his staying a week with them, 
 whilst they might enjoy his lucubra- 
 tions, before the world was visited by 
 their benign influence. 
 
 The students thought Mr. Leving- 
 stone was quizzing the hero of the 
 quill; but our author did not think so. 
 He acknowledged the honourdone him: 
 " if there was any merit in his compo- 
 sitions, the development of that merit 
 was owing entirely to the generosity of 
 his patron^ if his works were in any
 
 ST. CLYDE. 97 
 
 possible degree tainted with unpopular 
 opinions, his patrons were not account- 
 able for his errors." 
 
 The author first began to show, that 
 " Scotland and its islands measured in 
 extent to about the half of England, or 
 the whole of Ireland; and, exclusive 
 of the islands, above twelve millions of 
 acres were cultivated lands ; and," said 
 this knowing man, " the remainder of 
 the surface is occupied by lakes and 
 rivers:" on these, and their inhabi- 
 tants, he dwelt more largely than we 
 wished to be detained. 
 
 When he came to touch on the shires, 
 he could make out thirty-three in all ; 
 but he was greatly puzzled to satisfy 
 his own mind, that there should only 
 be thirty representatives sent to parlia- 
 ment; and when he came to the chap- 
 ter of royal boroughs, which, though 
 sixty-eight in all, sent only fifteen 
 members, he lamented deeply the 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 JS ST. CLYDE. 
 
 union, and had two full chapters to 
 prove how much Scotland had lost by 
 the thistle being joined with the rose; 
 and all Colin's reasoning to prove that 
 their native land had gained, and that 
 very considerably, by the union, served 
 only to enable the author to find fresh 
 arguments on the other side of the 
 question. 
 
 There v^^as a full chapter devoted 
 to each of the four universities; ten 
 chapters were taken up with the nine 
 hundred and fifty parishes ; two with 
 the seventy-eight presbyteries; eleven 
 with the fifteen synods; and a whole 
 book with the general assembly. St. 
 Clyde was very much struck with the 
 disproportion here; but the author said 
 sharply, " he had been bred for the 
 church," but with a sigh added, 
 
 ** Amans quid cupiat, sch; quid sapiat, non videt." 
 
 There were, he showed in one chap- 
 ter, •* one million and above six hun-
 
 ST. CLYDE. §§ 
 
 dred thousand people in Scotland," of 
 whom one-eighth were Highlanders. 
 *' Here/* said he, " here is a race of 
 brave fellows, hardy, temperate, indus- 
 trious;" but, '^ he was sorry to say, 
 there were many reeds amongst those 
 oaks, many who would bend in the 
 storm sooner than snap and be done 
 with it." 
 
 His next bundle of manuscript notes 
 were on the Scots being descended 
 from the North Britons, distinguished 
 anciently by the name of Caledonians. 
 On this word he dwelt largely, and had 
 more than two hundred old songs and 
 ballads collected, to trace the current 
 of opinion respecting the notables this 
 land in early times could boast. 
 
 Colin was anxious to know which 
 of their descendants the work was to 
 be dedicated to ; but he could get no- 
 thing satisfactory, as the author had 
 ** a plan of his own," and he did not 
 
 F 2
 
 100 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 know but he might dedicate the entire 
 work to his majesty then reigning ^ 
 and the chapters in succession to the 
 nobles and barons and squires of his 
 native land ; the chapters on the church 
 he would inscribe respectively to the 
 most worthy of his brethren ; those on 
 the universities to the principals of 
 each college; that on commerce to 
 two eminent merchants in Glasgow; 
 that on agriculture to the agricultural 
 society of Great Britain; that on bo- 
 tany to the Linnean society; that on 
 mineralogy to the memory of the cele- 
 brated Dr. H. ; and here he ran on about 
 copper, lead, iron, and gold mines, 
 pebbles, agates, pearls, crystals, alum, 
 flint, marble, free-stone, granite, slate, 
 lime-stone, coals, fullers-earth, and 
 potters-clay, till St. Clyde thought 
 he should never get to an end : but he 
 ceased not to go very fully into all the 
 kinds of grain; and to enumerate ho-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 101 
 
 ney, fruits, roots, timber, grasses, flax, 
 hemp, fern, kelp ; and horses, black 
 cattle, sheep, goats, swine, deer, hares, 
 game of all kinds, wild and tame, 
 fresh and salt water-fowl, came rank 
 and file more numerous than the wants 
 of the universe might, to one born 
 within the sound of Bow bells, seem to 
 require. 
 
 When he spoke of the numerous 
 canals, the bays and lakes, an alder- 
 man would have licked his lips at the 
 mention made of prodigious quantities 
 of turbot and salmon and cod; and the 
 shoals of ling, tusk, herrrings, whitings, 
 haddock, skate and mackerel, would 
 have joyed the Billinsgate folks and 
 their retail Irish fish-pedlars. The es- 
 timate of the eels would have sent all 
 South wark up to the eel- pie house; 
 and the trout, pike, char, muscles, 
 crabs, lobsters, oysters and other valu- 
 able fishes with and without armour.
 
 102^ ST. CLYDE. 
 
 would have made the butchers of 
 Leadenhall-market stare, as though 
 Smithfield-market would be shut and 
 the trade come to iiought, 
 
 Colin and his fellow-students wished 
 of all things to get away from the au- 
 thor; but that was impossible; they had 
 not yet heard of '' their monarchy" of 
 unknown antiquity. Fire sparkled in 
 his eyes, and his look assumed a joy 
 that almost said the poor author felt 
 proud, when he descanted on the royal 
 sceptre having remained in the same 
 family since the departure of the Ro- 
 mans, who were now no longer 
 
 " Romanos rerum dominos, gentemque togatam." 
 
 "Yes!" continued the author, "since 
 the departure of the Romans to his 
 present majesty— a succession which 
 for duration has no equal in the history 
 of nations." 
 
 But here the poor author forgot him- 
 self, and began to deplore in bitter
 
 ST . CLYDE. 105 
 
 terms the fatal 1603; '* then was 
 Scotia's crown united to that of Eng- 
 land. Alas!"' continued he, '« that James 
 VI. of Scotland ever did so! And yet our 
 souther?! brethreii think us foreigners, 
 not remembering they are governed by 
 a Caledonian iiioiiarch ! And then there's 
 the black 1707; but, sir," looking Colin 
 full in the face, " let us remember the 
 memorable words of the Mantuan 
 bard, 
 
 - - Revocate animos, moEStumqne timorem 
 Mittite. Forsan et hsc olim meminisse juvabit. 
 
 This man was going to Edinburgh to 
 publish " a commentary on the Song 
 of Solomon;" and, without asking whe- 
 ther there was such a thing as delicacy 
 in devotion, and the adoration of that 
 Great Being who fills all space and 
 exists through all eternity, this clerical 
 man stunned the ears of the ladies by 
 illustrations which Ovid and Catullus 
 would have been ashamed to offer in
 
 104 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 defence of the worship of Jove, but 
 which Anacreon might mingle with 
 the loves of Venus. 
 
 The author had just ended, when 
 Mr. Maclean came to Kelvin to bring 
 home the young St. Clyde.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 105 
 
 CHAPTER IX^ 
 
 What, in the very first beginning! 
 
 Shame of the versifying tribe ! 
 Your history whither ^are you spinning? 
 
 Can you do nothing but describe ? 
 
 Gray. 
 
 The dominie had been sent express for 
 Colin. The mass of intellect now 
 gathered together at Kelvin, could not 
 meet without eliciting far more than the 
 elements of moral, political, physical^ 
 and mathematical science. These great 
 men had left, for many years, the first 
 principles and rudiments of science, and 
 were now going on to perfection : the 
 dominie was skilled in logic and the 
 mathematics, in both of which he had 
 excelled when at college ; for he had 
 really carried away the palm one year 
 
 F5
 
 106 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 by a theme on Geometrical Analysis j 
 though, from the hard brows of fate, he 
 could never wrest a wreath with which 
 to deck his temples, more honourable 
 than a bough from ascarceplant, called, 
 by the offspring of the gods, grati- 
 tude. 
 
 It was this wreath the good man 
 wished to be crowned with: he thought 
 he had earned it, his scholars were not 
 ignorant of his merits, their hearts were 
 not insensible to the voice of nature; 
 and it happened that they felt the roots 
 of the plant the offspring of the gods 
 were permitted to name, shooting their 
 crooked, creeping fangs all o'er their 
 hearts; the soil was good, the early 
 and the latter rain fell, the beams of the 
 sun ripened the plant to maturity ; and 
 the scholars of Mr. Maclean indivi- 
 dually crowned their master with a 
 garland of gratitude. 
 
 The clerical author was more ambi-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 107 
 
 tious. The weakness of his own sex, 
 and the frailty of the other, had con- 
 spired against the peace of this child 
 of misfortune. Placed at his ease in a 
 pleasant parish, with a neat manse, 
 where any bachelor might have passed 
 his days in holy continency, till the 
 offer of some fair damseFs hand had 
 made Coelebs no longer the devotee of 
 celibacy; but upon an unlucky night, 
 the powerful god of the grape, and the 
 mistress of Vulcan, the queen of kisses, 
 assailed our author as he returned from 
 a public dinner ; and a girl of too easy 
 virtue had reason to curse the day she 
 ever became known to this man. 
 
 It it difficult for a good man to gain 
 the threshold of vice; but having set 
 his foot on it, the scenery on the right 
 and on the left, and the variegated 
 lawn as far as his eye can reach, the 
 lusciousness of the fruit, the zest and 
 appetite its various hues create, the
 
 108 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 foliage which hides the rotten trunks j 
 the gay attire in which the inhabitants 
 of this garden promenade its flowery 
 walks ; the sweetness of the voices of 
 those whose province it is to allure 
 and entice ; the paradoxical effect of 
 satiety creating satiety; this, and more 
 than this, tended to make this author's 
 mind so succulent to the lower order 
 of his passions, that twelve months had 
 not listened to his voice from the pulpit, 
 when church-censures, curses, pres- 
 bytery supreme, declared our author's 
 divinity lay all in feeling, and he was 
 ejected the church. But not discou- 
 raged by the sentence of the general 
 assembly, which o*er his cups this sin- 
 ful exasperated man called, " Edina*s 
 Furnace of Thunder," our hero of the 
 quill, now the father of a fine infant 
 boy, commenced author in good ear- 
 nest; and though the essay illustrative 
 of the " Song of songs" was to appear
 
 ST. CLYDE, 109 
 
 anonymous, yet the history in hand 
 was to bear the author's name; and 
 light pieces, that owed their existence 
 to what he termed recreative composi- 
 tion, were to appear under the fictitious 
 names of 
 
 Individuality, a Tale, by a Rosi- 
 crucian Virtuoso — 
 
 Diversity, a Tale, for every rank 
 in Society, by Crysado Barnacle — 
 
 Probability, a Novel, by Hermes 
 Trismegistus — 
 
 Circumstance, a Novel, by Patri- 
 ciusWhackum — 
 
 Resolution, a Tale, by Fabricius 
 Raza. 
 
 The company were soon heartily tired 
 of this author, — not that there was not 
 occasionally the most awkward bash- 
 fulness and vacancy about him ; not 
 that he " ever and anon" besought 
 the company to give him their opinion
 
 HO ST. CLYDE. 
 
 on this form of expression, the con- 
 struction of that sentence, the correct- 
 ness of this simile, and the aptness of 
 that allegory — no ! but they were tired 
 of him because he was — an author I 
 And the dominie, in distinction to his 
 able antagonist, grew a favourite both 
 with the ladies and the gentlemen : he 
 was the tutor of St. Clyde j nay more, 
 he was the friendly man whom prospe* 
 rity could not elate nor adversity cast 
 down; whom contradiction could not 
 anger, nor oneness of sentiment make 
 proud; whom affliction could not swaK 
 low up, nor health make haughty; 
 whom mirth could not intoxicate nor 
 hope seduce; and he never addressed 
 St. Clyde but with the language of 
 kindness and friendship, and that tone 
 of voice that indicates respect, truth, 
 and love. His was the father^s speech, 
 the good man's advice, the Christian's
 
 ST. CLYDE. Ill 
 
 company; and Mr.Levingstone felt it, 
 and all the persons in that house con- 
 fessed it. 
 
 Mr. Levingstone and the dominie 
 were excellent company; and Augus- 
 tus and St. Clyde willingly listened to 
 the discourse as it rolled on their ears in 
 pitiless volubility, cracking contradic- 
 tion, cramming demonstration, and ir- 
 resistible consequence : whatever might 
 be the subject, there never was any 
 lack of words with the dominie; what- 
 ever might be the argument, there 
 was not a strong hold, in retreat or ad- 
 vance, the dominie did not know well. 
 In short, he was so completely versed 
 in the geography of an argument, that 
 he advanced, or rested on his arms, or 
 retreated with his forces, with as much 
 certainty as he would have turned the 
 globe, and laid his thumb on Athens 
 and his fore-finger on Rome. 
 
 The dominie ceased to argue, and
 
 112 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 left room forMr.Levingstoneto enquire 
 of Augustus how his brother Charles 
 was; for Augustus had then beg- 
 ged the company's pardon whilst he 
 read a letter the servant brought him. 
 *' Charles," said Mr. Levingstone> 
 " has finished a regular course of aca- 
 demical studies; you may hope, and 
 justly, that he will rise in the profes- 
 sion — rise, shine, with a pair of epau- 
 lets very soon ! Yes, thank God ! our 
 fleets are not officered by children, 
 nine-tenths of whom, as midshipmen, 
 cannot write a letter orthographically 
 correct: let us dread if a time should 
 arrive when the fleets of Great Britain 
 shall be officered by boys, who, as to 
 the science of grammatical syntax, 
 the elements of mere epistolary compo- 
 sition, the principlesof geometry and the 
 rudiments of plane trigonometry — for 
 I would not expect in boys the address 
 of an old captain in making a lunar
 
 ST. CLYDE. 1 13 
 
 observation — boys who know as much 
 of these primary branches of necessary 
 education, as they do of the matter of 
 which one of Jupiter's satellites is 
 composed." 
 
 Mr. Levingstone would have gone 
 on for a long time; but the author in- 
 terrupted him, and the students went 
 to walk to the grotto; St. Clyde and 
 Antony walked together, and Augus- 
 tus followed with Jessie. 
 
 These young men were not merely 
 friends on the narrow principle of in- 
 structing and being instructed, since 
 their friendship, in that case, might 
 have ceased with the reciprocity of 
 scholastic duties: St. Clyde and An- 
 tony Levingstone were united to each 
 other by observing the one in the other 
 a similarity of disposition, a coinci- 
 dence in the tenor of each other's 
 mind, which the selfish principles of 
 gain never produce; and they found
 
 114 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 that they had, as the opportunities in- 
 creased of scanning narrowly the mo- 
 tives of their friendship, observed in 
 each other a gradual developement of 
 manly feeling, far above the littleness 
 of cupidity and the fear of being ex- 
 celled. Their attachment was cemented 
 more closely at Kelvin by the retro- 
 spection of the grand essentials of cha- 
 racter they could retrace in each 
 other; and it was thus, by the solid 
 principles of a very refined philosophy, 
 that the esteem and friendship which 
 school-boy attachment (with deference 
 to the rector, and the Olney bard's Tiro- 
 cinimn be it spoken) had at first conci- 
 liated : they now immolated even the 
 anticipation of all the unmanly pru- 
 riency and tasteless voluptuousness, 
 into which the gratification of the sel- 
 fish principles might propel them, 
 when left to the chances and disastrous 
 results of the society and fashions of
 
 ST. CLYDE. 115 
 
 life. They lived in Edinburgh above 
 the muddy elements of the ignobler 
 passions ; and from this high throne, 
 on which the sobriety of reason, and 
 pure morality, and unmixed honour 
 had seated them, viewed around them 
 many a coxcomb and would-be man 
 of fashion, because he was the son 
 of a gentleman, sink into ennui, and 
 perish by irretrievable moral imbe- 
 cility. 
 
 When they conversed on their sepa- 
 ration, and turned their thoughts on 
 the friendly hours they had passed to- 
 gether, they could not help feeling a 
 degree of pain at the arrival of the 
 period when the name of Bute should 
 separate their social, well-tried, truly 
 profitable day of friendship. St. Clyde 
 looked upon his return to Bute with 
 that mingled pleasure, with which the 
 toil-worn traveller looks upon his na- 
 tive hills and cliffs, whose ample sha-
 
 116 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 dows darken all the well-known land- 
 scape, and give enchantment to the 
 view; and, casting his mind still for- 
 ward on the journey of life, he sur- 
 veyed with partial delight the pro- 
 mised joys of that portion of life's un- 
 measured way, when, safely arrived at 
 independent ease, the scenes of happi- 
 ness at Edinburgh that he now could 
 dimly draw in transient retrospection, 
 would be a second time realized and 
 rendered infinitely greater by the 
 friendship of Eliza Stuart : and that 
 potent spirit which guides the raptured 
 soul to pierce the shades of murky 
 futurity; that spirit that pours remo- 
 test rapture on the sight, and calls 
 each slumbering passion into play; it 
 was hope, sweet cheerer of darkness 
 and friend of noon-day, that charmed 
 St. Clyde's bewildered senses, whilst his 
 mind was wrapped up in the most 
 profound reflections on his fate.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 117 
 
 But they returned from the grotto 
 to the house; and the day was spent in 
 the usual style of Mr. Levingstone's 
 remark, les houunes sont nes pour la 
 socitte ; and those who were going off, 
 to wit, the dominie, St. Clyde, and the 
 author, made every preparation to 
 leave Kelvin next morning at an early 
 hour. 
 
 The dominie returned a thousand 
 thanks for the kindnesses he and St. 
 Clyde had received from Mr. Leving- 
 stone ; and the gratitude of the author 
 was to be expressed in twenty stanzas 
 of Alcasan or Melesigenean verse ; but 
 the dominie, at the mention of this me- 
 thod of being grateful for the hospi- 
 tality they had enjoyed, exclaimed, 
 ^* Je ne voudrois pas etre roi^ with 
 such a bard for my laureat;" and all 
 the company were so much pleased 
 with the honesty of his observation.
 
 118 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 that the name of Mr. Maclean passed 
 at Kelvin for the name of a free and 
 independent man.
 
 ST. CLYDE. } 19 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 And then a soldier, full of strange oaths. 
 And bearded like the pard. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 Colin left Kelvin much pleased with 
 the reception he had received from 
 Mr. Levingstone, and with the conti- 
 nued attentions of the old gentleman 
 and his lady. As soon as he got home, 
 his father announced to him, that 
 there was a prospect of a commission 
 being obtained for him in the Highland 
 Watch, or 42nd regiment. 
 
 It was the earl of B— — who had 
 offered the laird this for Colin. His 
 lordship was a nobleman of the old 
 school; nothing gave him greater 
 pleasure than to bring forward the 
 opening genius and abilities of the
 
 120 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 youth in the island ; and there was no 
 young man of more promising talents 
 than Colin. 
 
 Next day he waited on his lordship, 
 who received him in the most hand- 
 some manner; and, having asked him 
 into his library, desired him to be seat- 
 ed, and sat down beside him. This re- 
 ception was that of a friend rather 
 than a patron; and his lordship having 
 laid before him the prospects there 
 were of his succeeding in the army, 
 lifted from the table a package, and ta- 
 king him by the hand, " Mr. St. Clyde, 
 you will confer a pleasure on my in- 
 terview with you, by allowing me to 
 present you with this commission: 
 you will now prepare yourself to raise 
 your recruits; there will be a serjeant 
 here in a few days; I will use my in- 
 fluence with the young fellows of the 
 island ; you shall have the finest of 
 them in your company; Dunmorven,
 
 ST. CLYDE. 1^1 
 
 your colonel, is my very particular 
 friend ; he will be yours also -, may 
 many blessings attend you." 
 
 Colin thanked his lordship, and felt 
 the gratitude his tongue could but 
 feebly express. His lordship kept him 
 to dinner; and the brilliancy of his con- 
 versation in the evening served to con- 
 vince Colin, that the title his patron 
 bore was not misplaced; that great as 
 the honours were, which from the high 
 office he filled had been lavished on 
 h\m, all the noble qualities which 
 had shone through a long line of an- 
 cestry were not quenched, but retain- 
 ed their renowned and disinterested 
 energy in its fullest strength. He was 
 none of those 
 
 " With infamy loo nauseous to be named ; 
 Fops at all corners, lacly-like in mien ; 
 Civetted fellows, smelt ere they are seen ; 
 Else coarse and rude in manners, and their tongue 
 On fire with curses, and with nonsense hung; 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 1^2 5T. clydl:. 
 
 Now flushed with drunkenness, now with whore- 
 dom pale ; 
 Their breath a sample of last night's regale." 
 
 Colin left Mount-Stuart house in the 
 style of an ingenuous youth : the in- 
 habitants of those parallels of latitude 
 south of the Tweed, would perhaps have 
 called it " booing;" — but, 
 
 "Quod satis est, cui contigit, nihil amplius optet." 
 
 A sufficient number of recruits was 
 to be an equivalent for a company in 
 the regiment; and the Laird St. Clyde 
 received a letter from the colonel, con- 
 gratulating him on his son's going 
 into the Highland watch. The colonel 
 had made his arrangenient Vv'ith the 
 commander in chief for St. Clyde's 
 complement of men ; twenty were to 
 suffice ; the colonel was the friend of 
 
 his lordship the earl of B ,.and the 
 
 earl was the friend of St. Clyde. 
 
 The Serjeant arrived; Colin now
 
 ST. CLYDE. 123 
 
 assumed the dress of his corps ; he vi- 
 sited the rendezvous; he was every 
 thing vith the recruits ; they were 
 every th^ng to him: he would mingle 
 in their ixierry- makings; converse fa- 
 miliarly with each ; visit the houses of 
 their parents, and especially Mill- 
 hole. Air. Gillies' youngest son was 
 the first recruit he got; and young 
 Gillies was the son of parents who 
 were removed from the pinching cares 
 of poverty; the young fellow was St. 
 Clyde's foster-brother; and he would 
 go with him, to the grief of his pa- 
 rents, and the joy of St. Clyde. 
 
 Levingstone, true to his promise, 
 wrote St. Clyde, who received the let- 
 ter on a Sunday as he was going to the 
 kirk: it was even thought by the peo- 
 ple on the road, as they passed him, 
 musing over its contents, that the 
 voung laird derived pleasure from 
 
 G 2
 
 124 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 reading a letter on Sunday, that might 
 not *' hae ae word o' grace in't.'* 
 
 St. Clyde's letter had arrived on the 
 Friday, though he did not get it till 
 Sunday. The Laird St. Clyde had 
 about this time reminded Mr. Mac- 
 taggart of his duty, and warned him 
 of the risk he ran of losing the post he 
 held under the government of the land, 
 if he persisted in a species of negli- 
 srence to the duties of his office. Mac- 
 taggart, though the post-master, was 
 also the chief blacksmith on the island ; 
 and his house was the best inn in the 
 town. The reproof of St. Clyde but 
 hardened this man's heart. 
 
 *' Sandy, ye manna gang yoursel to 
 theauld birkie's wi' this letter the day,'* 
 said Mactago^art to his boy ; ** gif ony 
 neebour frae the neist town come he- 
 live, ye can gi' him it, for I cannamy- 
 sel nae mair 2:ar ve ss-'dua:, as I hae
 
 ST. CLYDE. 125 
 
 niony a time gar'd ye gang dancing 
 like a cotter's wean, vviia maun rin half 
 breathless wharever the gentry o'er 
 the muir wad send them, an' nae their 
 ain servants ; as the auld St. Clyde the 
 ither day sent wee Davie Grahame : 
 his egg has ay twa youks, Sandy my 
 man ; an ye ken ill workers are ay 
 gude to-putters." This hint was suf- 
 ficient. Sandy, who was none of the 
 cleverest boys to run an errand declar- 
 ed, ** he wad nae gang to the Cairn of 
 St. Clyde wi' the letter : it might lie till 
 Sunday, like Mr. Gillies's." 
 
 That Sunday was the day, on which, 
 for the third time, the banns were to be 
 published between Andrew Gillies, 
 brother to Colin's foster-brother, and 
 Peggy of Birgadale. The wedding 
 had been fixed on before St. Clyde re- 
 ceived his commission; and though the 
 conduct of the foster-brother in enlist- 
 ing was a source of grief to Mr. Gillies*
 
 126 ST. CLYDt. 
 
 family, a letter from Dunmorven to St. 
 Clyde, assuring him that the foster- 
 brother of his son would yet be made 
 an ensign, dissipated the gloom an 
 event of so disagreeable a nature might 
 have cast over the bridal day, and 
 filled every breast with gladness; and, 
 according to the plans of the old peo- 
 ple, the marriage was to take place on 
 the day following, on Monday. 
 
 Andrew's father was respectable, 
 though not rich ; young Gillies him- 
 self was one of the most handsome fel- 
 lows in the country. Peggy had just 
 gone o'er her teens; her father was 
 a plain honest farmer. Peggy was 
 younger than any of her brothers, 
 who were all unmarried ; nor had any 
 of Andrew's sisters been yet led to the 
 altar of Hymen. The first wedding in 
 either of these families was opening 
 scenes the young people had hitherto 
 beheld only as spectators; the old
 
 ST. CLYDE. 127 
 
 people would have the first marriage 
 ^ied by the united aid of their rela- 
 tions, to the remotest verge of consan- 
 guinity. Accordingly, on the bride's 
 side, all her relations far and near w^ere 
 invited; and there was none of the 
 bridegroom's relations who was not 
 bidden to Millhole, to the first wedding 
 in William Gillies's family. The young 
 people, the brothers and sisters of An- 
 drew and Peggy, were fired with curio* 
 sity to see how it would go off. Indeed 
 every young lad and lassie invited, was 
 delighted at the thought of so fine an 
 opportunity of shining on Peggy's 
 wedding day 
 
 The old people, Mr. and Mrs. Gil- 
 hes, and Peggy's parents, had every 
 child and every servant put in requi- 
 sition on the preceding Saturday in 
 making preparations for the joyful 
 day ; but it was a mournful day, that 
 Saturday, to two sheep, four lambs^ a
 
 128 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 fine heifer, and hens, and ducks, and 
 geese without reckoning. From the 
 lambs were made four haggises ; from 
 the heifer, blood and suet puddings ; 
 and the ofFal of the ducks and geese 
 was converted into gibblet-pies. 
 
 Gillies was a farmer as well as a mil- 
 ler; his barn was new, large, and clean. 
 It was there that, on Saturday, two 
 rows of tables and forms, measuring 
 forty feet each, were securely fixed for 
 the wedding folks; and at one end was 
 a table erected at right angles to those 
 parallel ones, for that one was expressly 
 for the bride and bridegroom, their fa- 
 thers and mothers, their brothers and 
 sisters, their grandfathers and grand- 
 mothers, their uncles and aunts; and 
 old arm chairs, covered with leather, 
 were placed there for the Laird St.CIyde, 
 the laird's lady, the minister and his 
 wife, and the dominie. 
 
 All these preparations, with aplenti-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 129 
 
 ful supply of whisky, were the labour 
 of Saturday, as not one of these primi- 
 tive people would break the Sabbath 
 by doing what might and ought to be 
 done on another day. 
 
 On Monday morning, according to 
 agreement, Gillies's family and his re- 
 lations breakfasted at Peggy's father's 
 house, with her family and relations; 
 and those who were not relatives, 
 but were invited to the wedding, met 
 the bride and bridegroom and their 
 friends at the kirk, or came to the wed- 
 ding dinner at the appointed hour. 
 
 The breakfast was one of those our 
 great lexicographer and moralist would 
 have thought worthy of that name; 
 and, except Peggy and her mother, 
 Andrew's sisters and his mother, the 
 guests did honour to the ling-fish and 
 dried haddocks, to the white puddings, 
 the eggs and the ham : the tea and the 
 coffee were made by Lucky Mackinlay ; 
 
 g5
 
 130 ST, CLYDE. 
 
 and Lucky Mackirdy, the change- 
 keepers and blacksmith's wife at the 
 ferry, dealt around the unadulterated 
 whisky to the last cup of tea. 
 
 The cotters and their sons, who had 
 come from miles around, were busy 
 getting the horses fed and saddled, 
 whilst the breakfast company were gay 
 in Birgadale barn ; and now the whole 
 group assembled, were summoned by 
 Mr. Maclean, the parish school-master, 
 " to join with him in singing to the 
 Lord the hundred and twenty-eighth 
 psalm;" after which he exhorted them 
 all *' to join with him in asking Hea- 
 ven's benison on what they were going 
 to be engaged in that day." 
 
 It was a pleasant sight to see this 
 good man raise with closed eyes his 
 face to heaven, and with out-stretched 
 arms crave the blessing of the Author 
 of that institution, on the marriage of 
 Andrew and Peggy. All the company
 
 ST. CLYDE. 131 
 
 present, with fervently pious look to 
 the ground, joined in the ardent desire 
 of Mr. Maclean's soul in this truly 
 praise-worthy and reasonable piece of 
 devotion. Though the prayer was 
 long, it was not filled with vain repe- 
 tition ; and when the pious man ended, 
 the company thought he had just led 
 them to Pisgah's top !
 
 3!S ST. CLYDJt:. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A blythesome rout that morning tide^ 
 Had sought the chapel of St. Bride j 
 Her troth Tombea's Mary gave. 
 To Norman, heir of Armandave. 
 
 Scott. 
 
 Now they are mounted, saddle-horse 
 and cart-horse received one honour in 
 this cavalcade. And the old folks, 
 who could not ride, were drawn in 
 carts. It was a quick pace, or at 
 times a slow trot, at which the ground 
 was paced from Peggy's father's door 
 to the kirk; and there they were met by 
 more than a score of the wedding peo- 
 ple who had not been with them at 
 breakfast. And the bell it rung mer- 
 rily, merrily. The little boys and 
 girls and all the collies in the country 
 side were there, and amongst the rest
 
 ST. CLYDE. 133 
 
 was Sandy Glass. Sandy was not an 
 idiot, and he was not compos mentis : he 
 was silly, cunning, lazy, though gene- 
 rally innocent, sometimes mischievous; 
 the whole island called him a fool; 
 some people said he was " mair rogue 
 than fool /' others were " decidedly of 
 opinion he wanted intellect;" and yet 
 he was not deficient in a species of 
 knowledge, that rendered him the sport 
 of the younkers, and the pity of the 
 old ; and Sandy either repeated or veri- 
 fied, 
 
 That sure as light flows frae the sun, 
 
 Frae love proceeds complying. 
 
 Can Peggy greet when a's sae blyth ? 
 
 Can naething gi' her heart delight ? 
 
 Peggy is wi' Andrew come, 
 
 Peggy is wi' Gillies come ; 
 
 We a' may dance, we a may sing, 
 
 Peggy is wi' Gillies come : 
 
 O fie ! O fie ! thou bonny bride. 
 
 Dost grieve because it is thy wedding ? 
 
 It was a tear that Sandy Glass saw 
 fall from the eye of Peggy that seemed
 
 134 ST. CLYPE. 
 
 to rouse his powers; and, determined to 
 dispel the gloom, and make Peggy as 
 happy as he felt himself, the poor lad 
 not only sung but " danced in the 
 church-yard,'' and capered in the van 
 with all the mirth and nimbleness of a 
 being that was elevated by the highest 
 
 joy- 
 Mr. Thornhill, the clergyman, was a 
 
 pattern of excellence and goodness : 
 he knew his duties and he performed 
 them ; but he was not one of those 
 austere monks who publicly preach 
 good works and virtuous conduct, and 
 privately do wrong. He was not the 
 bottle companion of any man; but he 
 w^ould not refuse to lend his company 
 and his time to any innocent merry- 
 making party of his respectable parish- 
 oners ; and to-day he was particularly 
 engaged. Laird St. Clyde and his son 
 were invited to the wedding, as were 
 Mrs. St. Clyde and her two daughters.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 135 
 
 The mother and the young ladies de- 
 clined the invitation, but St. Clyde him- 
 self and Colin were standing in one 
 corner of the church-yard with the 
 Rev. Mr. Thornhill, when the whole 
 company arrived. The song and dance 
 of Sandy Glass particularly struck 
 Colin St. Clyde, who hitherto never 
 took any pains to remark him ; but the 
 words and deeds of Sandy were not this 
 day so easily to be got rid of, not only 
 by Colin, but by the spectators. When 
 the whole company had got fairly into 
 the church, the clergyman and the 
 laird entered. Sandy Glass kept close 
 to the minister's side. Colin St. Clyde 
 took a seat at a distance, being almost 
 a stranger, as for several years he had 
 not been much in his native place. 
 
 Within the walls of this sacred house, 
 all was silence and fixed attention. 
 The blush of innocence and bashful- 
 ness was mingled on the cheeks of
 
 136 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 Peggy, with the strongest mark of 
 esteem and tender affection; when, the 
 best man having pulled the glove from 
 Andrew's right hand, and the best maid 
 the glove from Peggy's, Mr. Thornhill 
 put her hand into Andrew's, and gave 
 them his blessing. 
 
 There was not wanting, to add lustre 
 to the beauty of this artless maid's 
 good face, a shower of pearly drops, 
 which the agitation into which so im- 
 pressive and tender a scene threw her, 
 prevented from not escaping the eyes 
 of the spectators. There were more 
 wet cheeks there that day : the mothers 
 of this faithful pair, even the fathers^ 
 the sisters, and many others, evinced 
 their affection for Peggy by weeping 
 with her. 
 
 Nature presided at this feast of 
 genuine friendship, and gave an im- 
 pulse to the single, simple, will of all. 
 Sandy Glass was not conscious that he
 
 ST. CLYDE. 137 
 
 had doae amiss till the sextoa asked 
 him next Sunday, " why he grat like 
 ony lassie." It was one of those scenes 
 our nature can support for a moment, 
 as by the effect it produces, she fits 
 us for the sterner trials of life, and 
 leaves herself at liberty, at any future 
 time, to be prepared to take a part in 
 the joys or sorrows of those we esteem 
 and love. 
 
 There was also present a stranger, 
 whom the duties of his profession had 
 sent thither, and who, for any other 
 than St. Clyde's sake, would be loaded 
 with the curses of seventeen mothers ; 
 not that he had broken any of the 
 laws of the land, but he had torn 
 from their embraces their seventeen 
 sons. He was St. Clyde's sergeant from 
 the 42d regiment, and he had been 
 pretty successful in enlisting these 
 seventeen fine voung men, not three
 
 138 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 of whom, as Sandy Glass was wont to 
 say, 
 
 *' Durst any ten some French them take. 
 
 But down to endless nicht they'd fa , 
 
 Weel noyted o' their pows." 
 
 And sergeant Macbean came un- 
 bidden to the church to see the wed- 
 ding ; but he was a discreet man, and 
 though " he wed awa the flowers o* 
 the forest," even the sorrowing mo- 
 thers were pleased to see him there. 
 The sergeant also went regularly to 
 hear Mr. Thornhill of a Sunday, and 
 the minister himself would, at times, 
 listen to Angus Macbean's tales of 
 battles and marches ; and as many idle 
 spectators came to the church, the 
 dutiful soldier was anxious to try 
 his fortune, even there, among the 
 young lads from a distance. He was 
 going to his regiment in a week, and 
 he wanted just twenty recruits with
 
 8T. CLYDE. 139 
 
 him : if he got twenty, young St. Clyde 
 would be made an ensign ; of his own 
 promotion Macbean ha4 little more to 
 hope.
 
 1 iO ST. CLYDE. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 And issuing from the Gothic arch, 
 The bridal now resumed their march. 
 In rude, but glad procession, came 
 Bonnctted sire, and coif-clad dame ; 
 And plaided youth, with jest and jeer. 
 Which snooded maiden would not hear ; 
 And children, that, unwitting why. 
 Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry; 
 And minstrels that in measures wild 
 Before the young and bonny bride. 
 Whose downcast eye and cheek disclose 
 The tear and blush of morning rose. 
 
 Scott's Lady of the Lake. 
 
 As soon as the ceremony was perform- 
 ed by the Rev. Mr. Thornhill, the young 
 men who were selected to ride home 
 with the news to Mr. GiUies' house 
 setoff at full gallop, striving who should 
 be first there. The road was none of 
 the best; and to take a shorter cut^ 
 they rode round a projecting rock, at
 
 ST. CLYDE. 141 
 
 the base of which there was a fine sand 
 bank, which, at high water, was 
 covered three feet deep by the neap 
 tides ; but though the tide was rising, 
 and their horses were up to their knees, 
 these mad-caps, spurring them on, got 
 on terra firma once more, but splashed 
 over head and ears. 
 
 The procession and cavalcade began 
 to descend the lawn before the church- 
 yard ; by and bye came out Peggy, 
 and now was the scramble among the 
 3^oung farmers to get the first buss of 
 the bride ; it was not permitted, by 
 immemorial custom, for the bridegroom 
 to turn a voluptuous meacock already. 
 Now they are advancing to Mr. Gillies* 
 house, Sandy Glass in the van even 
 of the pipers and fiddlers: Robin Glen- 
 deroy was the chief piper, and Jamie 
 Little wasmaster of the violin; but both 
 were famed for vocal as well as instru- 
 mental music.
 
 142 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 Sandy Glass's mother was a frugal 
 cotter: the laird of St. Clyde would 
 never let Sandy want clothes ; and on 
 this day the poor lad was dressed out in 
 his best, and he had decked his bonnet 
 with the feathers of a heath-cock, in 
 imitation of Sergeant Macbean's bon- 
 net. The sergeant and Sandy were 
 particular friends; indeed Sandy would 
 have gone along with the sogers, but 
 he said his " mither wad greet." For 
 that day, for the first time of his life 
 in summer, was Sandy allowed to put 
 on his shoes and stockings. 
 
 The most cheerful and happy would 
 have envied the bliss that was diffused 
 through every breast in this company; 
 and the distance it had to travel, though 
 nearly three miles, seemed not a fur- 
 long. Sandy Glass was e\evy where, 
 in the van, on the flanks, in the centre, 
 at the rear; whether the cavalcade 
 was inarching in close column, on a
 
 ST. CLYDE. 143 
 
 good road, and o^er the muir, or de- 
 filing through the glen, or forming into 
 solid column at its gorge, poor Sandy 
 must needs speak to every one: every 
 body knew him, and he knew every 
 body ; and the little attentions Peggy 
 paid his ingenuous looks and wily 
 smiles so dazzled him, that, at a burn 
 the whole company had to ford, Sandy 
 seized Peggy's horse's bridle, and, 
 with an effort above himself, got the 
 pretty woman into his arms, and was 
 through the water with her before her 
 husband missed her from the saddle. 
 The bridegroom did not thank him for 
 this piece of gallantry, but Peggy did; 
 and all the men cried, "Well done, San- 
 dy; ye'll be a man before your mither." 
 Now they are arrived at Mr. Gillies' 
 house; and after putting up in the 
 stables, and cowhouses, and outhouses, 
 the horses of St. Clyde, Ashcoime, Bo- 
 ganny, Ambrisbeg, and Glenbowie,
 
 144 ST. CLYDE 
 
 the horses of almost all the others could 
 not find room under cover that night 
 at Millhole, and were turned out into an 
 adjoining field to browse: but it would 
 have been nocomplimenttothese rough- 
 coated animals to house them ; they 
 were strong naturally, and their owners 
 would not by stabling lessen their 
 hardihood; even in winter the furze 
 amongst the hills, and the bushes in 
 the glens, were cropped in lieu of grass, 
 '^the richest fodder that ever John 
 Bann's capul got was hay ; except 
 twice at the mill, where the pawkie 
 dackering capul " sta' tvva meltith o' 
 the young miller's saurless rottacks;" 
 for such was the construction John 
 Bann put upon this theft his poney had 
 committed in the stable of young An- 
 drew Gillies. 
 
 The female part of the company had 
 but time to arrange or change their 
 ridinsr wedding-dresses for what was
 
 ST. CLYDE. 145 
 
 more suitable for the occasion, when 
 Robin Glenderoy announced with his 
 bag-pipe that dinner was ready ; and 
 the barn was soon filled ; but nobody 
 offered to sit down till the minister was 
 seated. The parents on both sides in- 
 sisted that the minister should take the 
 centre seat at the "head table." Nei- 
 ther Mr. Gillies nor Peggy's father 
 would take it when Mr. Thornhill was 
 there ; and the Laird St. Clyde was 
 not entitled to that seat when the "ser- 
 vant of the Lord was at the wedding.'* 
 The reverend gentleman took his 
 place, and requested ^'the bride to take 
 the chair on his right hand, and the 
 bridegroom that on his left." The bride's 
 maid and the bridegroom's man occu- 
 pied their respective places, and " next 
 to the best maid" the minister begged 
 '*the Laird St. Clyde would take his 
 place : the schoolmaster would be 
 kind enough to sit next to the best man. 
 H
 
 14<) ST. CLYDE. 
 
 They were in Mr. Gillies* house, and 
 he would take the head of the right 
 hand table, that ran the length of the 
 house; the bride's father would take the 
 head of the other long table. Mrs. 
 Gillies would sit beside the bride's 
 father, and Mr. Gillies would be proud 
 of the company of the bride's mother." 
 
 Dominie Maclean could not help 
 observing, that, "with the man o' God 
 between them, they numbered the 
 eleven faithful apostles, and he thought 
 he was at the marriage o' Cana in Ga- 
 lilee." 
 
 Opposite to the minister sat Peggy's 
 grandfather ; on his right was Andrew's 
 grandfather; and on his left, this good 
 old man's wife: Peggy's grandmother 
 sat at the right-hand of grandfather 
 Gillies, and thus was the head of the 
 table occupied. From the head of the 
 table, and according to their senio- 
 rity, were first placed, directly before
 
 ST. CLYDE. 147 
 
 Mr. Gillies, the uncles and aunts of 
 Peggy; then her brothers and sisters, 
 and nearest relations; and her father 
 saw before him, first the uncles, then 
 the relations of his son-in-law, Andrew 
 Gillies, according to seniority and affi- 
 nity. 
 
 i: The lower ends of both tables were 
 crowded with all the neighbours who 
 had been bidden to the wedding. Do- 
 minie Maclean took upon himself the 
 task of ordering silence whilst the grace 
 was said, and it was " the blithest day 
 in a' his life, to see his worthy pastor 
 and his patrons, and sae mony o' his 
 weel-doing scholars a' now grown up 
 to man's estate, baith lads and lasses ; 
 a' that house kend their ain parents did 
 na^ Joe the bairns o' their ain bluid 
 better than he loed them a* ;" and the 
 good dominie would have gone on to 
 eulogize, but at the extreme end of the 
 barn was a door that led to another
 
 148 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 house, that was occasionally occupied 
 as a Wright's shop, hnt- house, and cart- 
 house ; and the noise that came in 
 vol lies from this place, drowned the 
 dominie's voice. 
 
 This house Bauldy Duncan and Dan 
 Macvichar had fitted up that morning 
 for the cotters' dinner, and also for all 
 those who had been aiding and useful 
 to Lucky Mackirdy and Lucky Boyd 
 in getting dinner ready. The whole 
 building was surrounded by all the 
 beggars of the country. 
 
 Sandy Glass was a favourite at Mill- 
 hole, and he ventured into the hall of 
 the second order, and tried several times 
 to make himself useful in getting the 
 dishes through it, into the great barn -, 
 but Lucky Boyd did not like Sandy, 
 and threatened, as soon as she observed 
 how very officious he was grown, '* to 
 duck him i' the haggis cauldron, gifhe 
 minded or fashed his hand wi' things
 
 ST. CLYDE. 149 
 
 the auldest carl amang a' his forebears 
 ne'er creeshed their gullies wi." 
 
 The miller was also a dyer, and the 
 said cauldron was of copper: it was 
 only a large vessel that could have 
 boiled *' seven haggises and a wheel- 
 barrow full of blood and suet puddings." 
 Lucky Mackirdy averred this much 
 was boiled in it. It was not to be 
 wondered then, that, at the very name 
 of the cauldron, poor Sandy made her 
 no reply, but got out of the house as 
 quickly as he could. 
 
 However, he was in no better plight 
 when he got out ; Ion Bourrie, a silly 
 old beggar, owed Sandy a grudge for 
 laughing at him, and Sandy did not 
 know that his enemy had come to the 
 wedding, till he was assailed by him 
 on his egress from the house. This 
 scuffle was soon ended by Archy Ran- 
 kin, an old soldier, with a wooden leg 
 and one arm, who swore he would
 
 150 sr.CLYDt. 
 
 " throw auld Ion Bourrie into the mill- 
 dam gif he meddled or made wi' the 
 poor harmless daft callan/' Ion Bourrie 
 ceased, but vowed vengeance on another 
 day; but the old sodger would not 
 "thole Ion Bourrie to baud anger i' 
 his craig, and lounder a doilted callan 
 for blethering or laughing and playing 
 antics wi' an auld lyart carl." 
 
 The old man was obliged to promise 
 never to meddle with Sandy : the poor 
 old warrior could not make him say 
 that he forgave Glass. 
 
 As soon, therefore, as silence was ob- 
 tained in the upper and lower house 
 of feasting and mirth, the good minis- 
 ter said grace ; and when it was done, 
 the covers were removed on the upper 
 table ; '* the minister's dishes maun be 
 kepit in season," said Lucky Boyd, 
 and they alone were covered : and on 
 the upper table there was abundance 
 of meat both roasted and boiled. "The
 
 ST. CLYDE. 151 
 
 broth was well boiled ; the hams and 
 ducks, and the geese, the legs of lamb, 
 and the shoulders and jiggits of mutton, 
 were the best ever any body there had 
 put a fork in ;" and the lower end of 
 the long tables were not like the lower 
 end of many a Highland chieftain*^ 
 table ; there were here dishes of the 
 same fare that decked the upper table, 
 and the ale was from two casks Glen 
 Bowie had sent them ; they were a 
 present to Andrew. Andrew used to 
 take young Glen Bowie a-fishing and 
 shooting with him ; and " old people 
 should not forget such kindness.^' But 
 there were waiters enow, and the young 
 lasses were handed spring water; they 
 would not touch a drop of ale, and but 
 one glass of whisky entered the mouths 
 of their mothers.
 
 IjS ST. CLYDE- 
 
 CHAPTER XJII. 
 
 The gallant bridegroom by her side. 
 Beheld his prize, with victor's pride. 
 And glad the mother in her ear 
 Was closely whispering word of cheer. 
 
 The Lady of the Lake. 
 
 The company had dined, and the 
 health of the minister was drank by 
 Dominie Maclean J all the men followed 
 the dominie's example. The minister 
 drank to the health of the grandfathers 
 and grandmothers, parents, and rela- 
 tions of the new-married couple. The 
 Laird St. Clyde stood up, and drank to 
 the health of Andrew Gillies, and to 
 that of his bride Peggy ; every body 
 must do the same: all the men drank 
 a "right guid willy waugh," to pledge 
 the laird's toast.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 153 
 
 The lower house was now becoming 
 the scene of good eating; all the dishes 
 came from the upper house into it. 
 Rob. Glenderoy had, during the dinner 
 in the upper house, paced the length 
 of the space between the tables, play- 
 ing several love-ditties, in a fine low 
 key on his bag-pipe ; and when Glen- 
 deroy went out to walk round the 
 house and give full swing to his lungs 
 and bag-pipe, Jamie Little struck up 
 with his fiddle — 
 
 '* When first my dear laddie gade to the green hill — " 
 " The lass of Patie's mill — " 
 " Through the wood, laddie — " 
 
 And when Glenderoy came in playing, 
 in the softest notes, 
 
 **In April when primroses paint the sweet plain — " 
 
 Jamie Little would go out, and make 
 the very heart thrill with 
 
 ** The Broom of o' the Cowden Knowes — " 
 H5
 
 154 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 But now that the minister and the laird, 
 and the folks in the " muckle barn/* 
 had dined, and " the cutties and gul- 
 lies'* were beginning to be " creeshed 
 in the little barn," Jamie Little and 
 Robin Glenderoy sat, one at the head 
 of one table, and the other at the head 
 of the other, in the little barn. Lucky 
 Mackirdy " would sit at the foot o' 
 Jamie Little's table, to isee every body 
 gat something to eat ;" Lucky Boyd 
 had her eye on this seat. Jamie Little 
 was a favourite, for poor Glenderoy 
 was the father of three children, and 
 he was not married ; but Lucky Boyd 
 had now no choice, except at the ex- 
 pence of risking a dispute with Lucky 
 Mackirdy, who claimed precedency 
 of choice, ** cause hergude man shoed 
 the miller's horses." 
 
 Lucky Boyd accordingly sat down 
 at the foot of Robin Glenderoy *s table; 
 and though Lucky Boyd was every
 
 ST. CLyDE. 15S 
 
 way virtuous (for she at times assisted 
 Maggy Dunlop the midwife), yet the 
 loons and cotters' lassies numbered her 
 with Glenderoy's mistresses. The 
 poor woman would not eat; she sat 
 there, '' to cut the meat, and deal the 
 legs and wings o'the hens and chickens, 
 and gie haggis and puddings to the 
 poor bairns." 
 
 The minister came into this place to 
 see all his flock at dinner, for he had 
 not, for five years, seen so many of 
 them dining together; and, casting his 
 eye on Glenderoy, (poor Glenderoy had 
 stood three times on the black stool for 
 his voluptuousness,) and on the service- 
 able Lucky Boyd, the good man could 
 not help smiling, and observing, he 
 " would indeed be very glad to see 
 Glenderoy at his own table head, and 
 his wife at the foot of it.'' This was 
 quite enough for Lucky Mackirdy, 
 who had no good opinioa of widow
 
 156 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 Boyd ; and Jamie Little laughed out- 
 right. The youngsters showed strange 
 faces; and Sandy Glass,who, when he 
 saw the minister out of his seat and in 
 the little harn, had ventured to come 
 on the threshold of the door, declared 
 that " a body i' the wee barn fleckered 
 and hostit as gif the cuttie fu' gaed 
 down the wrang hause, when they 
 heard the minister speak o' Rab. Glen- 
 deroy's Kittie, Lucky Boyd.*' 
 
 Indeed these welcome guests, if 
 Sandy Glass was to be believed, as he 
 affirmed to Colin St. Clyde three days 
 afterwards, eat, 
 
 *' While they hostit at baith ends. 
 For honour o' the feast ; 
 
 And danced that day." 
 
 When these had dined, the Luckies 
 Mackirdy and Boyd saw that all the 
 beggars got a good dinner; and the 
 miller ordered that half a peck of meal 
 should be put into each of their wal-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 157 
 
 lets; and the dominie took the liberty 
 of going round the wealthy guests, and 
 collecting what he could, " the which 
 he divided equally amongst the poor 
 beggars." The minister would not 
 dance, and it was now getting late in 
 the day ; he and the Laird St. Clyde, 
 after seeing two bowls of punch out at 
 their table, got permission to depart; 
 but every body came out to see the mi- 
 nister and the laird on their horses ; and 
 the beggars came around at a dis- 
 tance, and prayed " Heaven to bless 
 the servant of the Lord, and their best 
 friend the Laird St. Clyde.'* 
 
 Young St. Clyde stayed with the 
 merry people. The elderly folks re- 
 turned to the barn, and sat still at the 
 punch : the young folks followed, and 
 it was now time for tea. Luckies 
 Mackirdy and Boyd made tea, assisted 
 by some blithsome lasses; but none 
 of the men drank tea; the women did;
 
 158 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 and Peggy Gillies (that was her name 
 now) was permitted to retire with the 
 best maid and her sisters and sisters-in- 
 law. 
 
 But tea was soon over, and Robin 
 Glenderoy began to tune his bagpipe ; 
 it was the signal for dancing; the 
 young lads and lasses began to pair 
 for the first country-dance, whilst the 
 tables in the lower room were cleared 
 away for those who could not dance, 
 but who might enjoy the punch ; and, 
 except an entire bench of forms, or 
 rather twenty-feet Memel planks, 
 which went one after another placed 
 on chairs round the entire walls of the 
 upper house, that house was ready for 
 the dancing : all the forms were filled 
 with those who were going to dance, 
 and those who liked to see the first 
 dance go off. 
 
 " Who was to be the bride's part- 
 ner ?"
 
 ST. CLYDE. \69 
 
 " The best man/* 
 
 " With whom would the bridegroom 
 dance?" 
 
 « With the best maid." 
 
 " But where could young St. Clyde 
 get a partner?" 
 
 '* He will find somebody," said every 
 lassie to whom the question was putj 
 hoping, with throbbing breast, it might 
 be herself. 
 
 Every young woman was sure no- 
 body would dance with Archy Camp- 
 bell of Bogganny; poor Archy had 
 stood in the church ; one and another 
 would as soon dance with "Rob. Roy" 
 — it was thus for conciseness' sake the 
 name of the useful piper was pro- 
 nounced. Peggy had a sister; she was 
 a bonny lassie; young St. Clyde ad- 
 vanced to her. 
 
 " Jessie, will you dance wi' me, 
 lassie ?" 
 
 Jessie courtesied and blushed; the
 
 160 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 Other bonny lassies looked at each 
 other; Jenny Gillies had pronfiised to 
 dance with young Glen Bowie; and 
 there was room in the barn for two 
 country-dances. 
 
 At the head of the one, stood the 
 lovely Peggy Gillies and the best 
 man; at the head of the other, were 
 Andrew her husband, and his partner, 
 the best maid, Betsey Sharp. The 
 bride gave the dance, and lieutenant 
 Stuart led her off in the finest style; 
 Andrew and Betsey Sharp were not 
 behind, but there was nobody there 
 danced like Charley. 
 
 Jessie was the " handsomest lassie 
 that ever put a foot in a black leather 
 shoe," and every body was glad to see 
 her the partner of the young St. Clyde ; 
 and the blithe salute at the beginning 
 and end of each dance put St. Clyde 
 in mind of Petruchio's smack, " when 
 " all the church did echo :" but there
 
 ST. CLYDE. l6l 
 
 was little room in the barn for echo 
 to tell with what lively feelings the 
 lips of the fair ones were pressed. The 
 first dance went off in an elegant 
 manner. 
 
 The old people at the wedding 
 were not just in trim to join in the 
 second, so the young folks got it also 
 to themselves ; but the third and suc- 
 ceeding dances exhibited a promiscu- 
 ous group of gray heads and beardless 
 boys, of grand-dames and lasses i' their 
 teens. 
 
 All the cotters who were not want- 
 ed went home early; but Sandy Glass 
 was allowed by Rab. Roy, " to sit ahint 
 the musicianers.^' By midnight some 
 were tipsy, and some were tired ; at 
 half past twelve it was permitted the 
 bridegroom and the bride, by desire of 
 Dominie Maclean, to retire to rest. 
 They were followed into Mr. Gillies'
 
 16^ ST. CLYDIC. 
 
 house by more than forty relations ; 
 the others were either not entitled to 
 be present at fhroioing of the stocking, 
 or else they thought it better to keep 
 it up on the barn-floor with '' bob at 
 the bouster." 
 
 Betsey Sharp, Jessie, and her mo- 
 ther and Mrs. Gillies assisted in un- 
 dressing the timidly innocent and 
 trembling-limbed Peggy. The sweet 
 rose-bud of youth was no longer visi- 
 ble on her cheeks; her mother chid 
 her ; mother Gillies bade her " be 
 strong and fear not ;" and both Jessie 
 and Betsey " wondered what in all the 
 world the silly thing was afraid of in 
 going to bed that night more than 
 any other." 
 
 Sweet Peggy heard all, but said no- 
 thing ; a reply would only have raised 
 a laugh. Now she is fairly beneath 
 the blankets, and the egress of her
 
 ST. CLYDE. 163 
 
 mother, Mrs. Gillies, and the young 
 lasses, was the signal forthe bridegroom 
 to go into the sacred chamber. 
 
 He advanced, followed by every 
 body that could get in ; they were all 
 friends; and it was no unseemly sight 
 for the innocent lamb Peggy to be 
 seen in bed with a night-gown and 
 night-cap on, by her relations ; and the 
 young St. Clyde, though he had never 
 before seen so delicious a sight, was 
 " a modest lad as any i* country side." 
 
 " Now the stocking is thrown," and 
 who should get it? Lieutenant Stuart! 
 Dancing with the bride ; catching the 
 stocking; breaking off the largest piece 
 of a merry-thought; and kissing an- 
 other's partner in place of his own — 
 .these, all these were allowed to be 
 ominous of Charley's wedding happen- 
 ing ere long ! Now the bridegroom is 
 in bed ; there was not a female then in
 
 164 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 the room but the bride, and she was 
 on the inner side of the bed. 
 
 A good bumper of pure whisky must 
 now bid the young folks good night. 
 It did so; and, leaving between the 
 sheets the authors of all their mirth 
 and glee, the whole company returned 
 to the barn, which was now going to 
 become a real seeli/ court, every one 
 declaring that " Aurora should lighten 
 the lawn before he left Millhole." 
 
 Eating and drinking wants but a be- 
 ginning. Slices of meat and pieces of 
 bread (they did not there get the 
 name of sandwiches) were served round 
 by Mackirdy and cotter Glass ; Lucky 
 Boyd was very well now ; it was even 
 said she was " bung on the buirds." 
 Every one now sat down, for " it was 
 comely to sit at meat;" but they would 
 not sit long, for " nobody was tired." 
 There was nobody thirsty, but " eating
 
 ST. CLYDE. 165 
 
 always needed drink ;" and every one 
 drank ale or punch, or '* callar spring 
 water." 
 
 The dance was resunned, and it went 
 on till the morning's dawn ; but during 
 the later hours of Seely Court, there 
 were many songs sung j and he or she, 
 who would not, or could not sing, 
 must ask a question nobody could 
 answer, or tell something nobody had 
 ever heard before, or dance a hornpipe.
 
 166 ST. CLYDE, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 We.are na fou, we're nae that fou, 
 But just a wee drap in our e'e; 
 The cock may craw, the day may daw. 
 But ay we'll taste the barley brie. 
 
 Burns. 
 
 Songs were sung with mirthsome 
 glee; and when it came to the domi- 
 nie's turn to dance, he begged to be 
 excused, — one of hislegs had not grown 
 so long as the other ; no excuse would 
 be taken: '^ Well, then," said he, "since 
 ye winna let me alane, answer me this ; 
 Whilk isthemaist happy, an unmarried 
 lad or a single lassie ?" 
 
 "The lassie!" cried many female 
 voices; "the lad!" exclaimed many 
 men : the question was not answered 
 unanimously, and the dominie got off 
 by observing " they might all be happf
 
 ST. CLi^DE. 167 
 
 if they liked, and they might all be 
 unhappy if they did na' take tent ; he 
 did na like," he added, '' to see what 
 he had seen : some folks might yet wish 
 the kiln had been burned before they 
 came there that night; he did na' think 
 the stack yard, and the kiln, and round 
 about the mill, and awa' among the 
 whins, were fit places for folks to be 
 gaun before the sun got up ; but time 
 would try a* as the frost tried the kail." 
 
 This was designed as a public rebuke 
 to his own son, and young Maclean 
 felt it ; and he was instantly missed 
 from the company. 
 
 Bogganny thought himself was 
 meant, and he was " so affronted by the 
 meddling dominie that he wad na' 
 stay." 
 
 Rab. Roy thought "if the minister 
 rebuked in tire kirk, the dominie should 
 be quiet in a house that was na' his ain." 
 
 And Lucky Boyd, who now awoke,
 
 168 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 and made her appearance at the lower 
 end of the barn beside Jamie Little, 
 asked "if the clashing bodie o'a do- 
 minie was na vera muckle out o' his 
 place, in noticing folks that were ill, 
 and could na* be seen for twenty mi- 
 nutes?" 
 
 But these were not all who lashed 
 the good man for his well-meant re- 
 mark. All who were guilty, or sus- 
 pected of doing amiss, thought his 
 " clash-ma-claver might be reserved 
 for another time and place." 
 
 When it came to Suter Willie's turn 
 to dance, he could not dance ; he had 
 always been worse than rickety ; but 
 Willie had been in Fife, and he would 
 tell them a story he was sure *' nobody 
 had ever heard in his ain native place." 
 It was this — ** Allan Mann had a 
 muckle dog, and that dog used to go 
 to the niest town, and carry the siller 
 in his teeth and buy the beef, and bring
 
 ST. CLYDE. 169 
 
 it hame by ae nook ; but ae day the 
 butchers* dogs set upon auld Cowley, 
 for Allan ca'd the beast Cowley ; 
 an' so ye see, twa dogs brought sax 
 mair, a' butchers* collies and bull dogs; 
 and so ye see, puir auld Cowley gat 
 the warst o't, and lost the beef, and 
 was sair bitet about the lugs and een : 
 and so ye see, Cowley was sae shamed 
 o' the thing, that he wad na come into 
 the house, but gade and graened i' the 
 barn a' that day; and whan Allan ken'd 
 whare puir Cowley was hidet, he 
 brought him his meat, and did sae for 
 nine days; but Cowley did not eat but 
 ae unco wee pickle o't a' that time : 
 and so you see, on the tenth day, 
 Cowley gaed awa', an' brought five 
 itherguid stout collies, andawa' to the 
 hole whare Cowley hid the meat; and 
 Cowley gie the collies a' the meat, and 
 tauld them in hisain language how he 
 had been worried, andcovvpit,and dadet 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 by the butchers' dogs in yon town ; 
 and how, gif the collies wad gang wi' 
 him and set up a colly shangy, a' the 
 butchers* dogs wad come out, and then 
 they shud a' set on them and worrie 
 them waur than they worried Cowley : 
 and so ye see, Cowley and his com- 
 rades gaed awa' to the neist town, and 
 leathered them w^eel i' the caputs and 
 spaulds, sae that the butchers thought 
 the warison their brutes ware gating 
 wasnathing but a the dogs and collies 
 i' the country gaen wud ; till they saw 
 Cowley and thought about the beef; 
 and how their ain dogs teuk it frae 
 him ; and the batchers then let their 
 ain dogs tak what Cowley's collies and 
 himsel could gie them : and so ye see, 
 whan Cowley and his collies beat them 
 a', Cowley neist day cam to his 
 maister for the siller for the beef; and 
 frae that day to this, he has gane to 
 the butcher's for Allan's beef; and the
 
 ST. CLYDE. 171 
 
 butchers* dogs growl, but neer ane o' 
 them will meddle wi' him." 
 
 Now though sutor Willie ^vas fre- 
 quently interrupted in this tale by 
 bursts of laughter which convulsed 
 every being present, and though the 
 dominie warned him of the sin of telling 
 lies, Willie went on to the end, and 
 swore at the close of his speech, that 
 it was as true as he drank " this glass 
 of punch." 
 
 *^ Fie! fie!" said the dominie. 
 
 '' Well, then," cried Willie, '' as 
 true as I tald it — I mean, as true as 
 I was in Fife. Woo sellers ken ay woo 
 buyers ; is na that true, dominie ?" 
 
 The reel, strathspey, the country 
 dance and hornpipe, had now well tired 
 each heel in Seely Court, but mirth 
 and glee v/ent laughing round; and 
 the tales, bon-mots, and the puzzling 
 questions which were told or put, not 
 •^o ^peak of the biithsome ditties many 
 
 I 2
 
 172 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 a handsome lad and bonny lassie sung, 
 in pairs or trios, with the full chorus 
 of all the com{)any, gave a pleasing 
 and lively relief to all. The transitions 
 from the country-dance to reels, and 
 from hornpipes to songs, as well as 
 from knotty questions to marvellous 
 tales, (there were none of them, how- 
 ever, about hobgoblins,) made the time 
 pass smoothly and sweetly away ; and 
 when Phoebus began to peep from his 
 watery bed, there was nobody at Seely 
 Court who was not sure it was morn- 
 ing sooner than usual : fresh as the 
 morning's dawn, 'twas pleasant to hear 
 every young man " wish the morning 
 wa'd stay awa till the gloamin." 
 
 Though there were two or three of 
 each sex that seemed to carry the 
 palm, on lightsome foot, in blithsome 
 song and pleasing tale, the mind of no 
 lad was '' moody" and the breast of 
 no lassie was sadj every guileless girl
 
 ST. CLYDE. 173 
 
 believed her Joe came off the victor, 
 and her heart was *' ay fain;'* and 
 *' tho' anither lilted sweetly, thine was 
 many times sweeter and pleasing to 
 me j" tho' he " sang so nicely, he 
 canna sing like thee." 
 
 It was in words like these, that some 
 of the lassies strove to win hearts they 
 already had captivated. 
 
 The breakfast was beginning to be 
 prepared ; all who were there break- 
 fasted by six o'clock, and as many as 
 could not stay to breakfast again 
 " wi the young guidwife," hied away 
 home; but, of those who tarried be- 
 hind, some would walk on the hill, 
 others would go up the glen and hear 
 the mavis whistlmg, and a dozen of the 
 young men were seen from the hill swim- 
 ming round Stuart's cutter in the bay. 
 
 It was announced by Rab. Roy to 
 the bridgeroom and bride, by, " Hey, 
 Jonney Cope, are ye waking yet 1"
 
 174 ST. C\.YDE, 
 
 that it was time to get up, and the 
 same notes reached even the distant 
 hill and deep glen; on the salt sea it 
 was heard distinctly enough, for the 
 youths came to shore singing; but 
 St. Clyde could not hear the words of 
 the song from the top of the hill. 
 
 The stragglers were seen in all direc- 
 tions "bearing up and down upon the 
 miller's auld red stane housie/' The 
 curiosity of the maidens to see Peggy 
 was only equalled by the young men's 
 hearty welcome of Andrew from the 
 marriage bed. Some thought there 
 had not been " enough o' daffin;'* and 
 the wary gibes that circled round the 
 second breakfast-table were not made 
 at Andrew's cost alone: the expense 
 of many a convulsive laugh was de- 
 frayed by the old and the young, by 
 the married and the single. 
 
 St. Clyde left this happy place after 
 breakfast; there were several of the
 
 ST. CLYDE. 17^ 
 
 voung people from the wedding going 
 the same road ; they went together, 
 and shortened the length of the way 
 by sage remarks on the joys of wed- 
 lock, and the happiness arising from 
 a family of children. 
 
 They had not, however, proceeded 
 far, when they observed a party of 
 men descending from Ashcolme Wood 
 to the sea-side. The road lay between 
 the wood and the coast; and looking 
 to the shore, there was distinctly seen 
 among the rocks that raised their stu- 
 pendous heads above the ocean, the 
 masts of a lugger; — but one might not 
 count a hundred, when the distance at 
 which she was now from the coast, 
 rendered the hull visible also. The 
 men from the wood were the gangers, 
 the jailor, and the sexton of Rothsay, 
 and two sheriff's officers. They had 
 heard, somehow or other, of the lug- 
 ger, and that a considerable quantity
 
 176 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 of brandy was to be run and lodged in 
 Ashcolme Wood ; and they made sure 
 of the seizure. But they were inter- 
 cepted by the people from the wed- 
 ding, and Robin Glenderoy declared 
 if the gangers went down among the 
 rocks, they might abide by the conse- 
 quences ; but " if they took any part 
 of the importation, if they proceeded 
 one step farther, he would ruin them 
 both ; for he knew that a sum of 
 money had been received by them not 
 to leave Rothsay for a week, but two 
 months before ; and if they did nae 
 choose to connive now as well as then, 
 he had only to say, that the collector 
 of the customs in Cowal, and the 
 comptroller in Rothsay, would know 
 what perjured fellows were in the 
 king's pay." 
 
 The challenge of Rob. Roy was 
 enough ; the gangers affected to be 
 greatly out of their places the senior
 
 ST. CLYDE. 177 
 
 officer began fumbling in his pockets 
 for the warrant ; it was not there : the 
 junior officer insisted on running to 
 Rothsay for it — *' But what am I to do 
 with the importation ?" said the senior 
 officer. 
 
 '* Do with it !" exclaimed Rob. Roy^ 
 " where is it? have you yet got in sight 
 of it? do you look to that I have said?*^ 
 
 St. Clyde was greatly amused with 
 tills scene, and did not attempt to in- 
 terfere on either side ; at last the gaugers 
 walking in advance and talking and 
 musing, the junior one turned short 
 round on his heel and said, '' Mr. St. 
 Clyde, you are now an officer in the 
 king's army ; may we depend on your 
 assistance, and that of your friends 
 here, if we ask you to go with us to 
 command us to the rocks, where the 
 importation is lodged ?" 
 
 ** You have fire arms, I suppose,** 
 I 5
 
 178 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 said St. Clyde. '' No," said one of the 
 gaugers, *' but we have good sticks." 
 
 " But," cried Rob. Roy, '' you have 
 no warrant with you ; and you had 
 better not go to the rocks without it, 
 and your pistols and cutlasses too, for 
 the Manks men will not let their wines, 
 their brandy, their tea, and their silks, 
 go so easily." 
 
 " What an unfortunate fellow am I," 
 exclaimed the senior gauger. "My good 
 friends James Mackintosh and John La- 
 mont" (for these were the names of the 
 sexton and jailor), " we shall not dare 
 to venture down among the rocks this 
 morning." 
 
 "Give the men half-a-crown a piece," 
 cried Rob. Roy, " for their trouble." 
 
 The gangers hesitated ; and one of 
 them, after rummaging all his pockets, 
 could only find seven-pence half-penny 
 in them all, and this he could not offer
 
 ST. CLYDE. 179 
 
 them ; but Rob. Roy stopped him short, 
 and offered Mackintosh and Lamont a 
 crown, which they accepted ; and the 
 effect of this was to dissolve at once the 
 dependence the gangers had on the 
 jailorand sexton ; but the sheriff's offi- 
 cers grumbled sorely at the delay Rob. 
 Roy occasioned them, and insisted either 
 on going forward to the rocks, which 
 were not more than a quarter of a mile 
 from them, or returning to Rothsay 
 for fire arms and the warrant. St. 
 Clyde, however, sent them all to the 
 rocks, by reproving the gaugers for 
 their stupidity in being duped by Rob. 
 Roy ; and Roy laughed very heartily 
 at it; for now they could see the lug- 
 ger's boat and two other skiffs deeply 
 laden rowing from the shore, and tow- 
 ing something, which the gaugers 
 affirmed were the kegs of spirits, to- 
 wards the lugger. 
 
 All the party ran to the rocks, and
 
 180 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 examined their intricate intersections, 
 but they could not find any thing be- 
 longing to the lugger's people ; and the 
 arch-piper took his bag-pipe and played 
 — tune, " The Trumpeter of Tyvie" — 
 
 " He kissed my lips five thousand times. 
 And ay he ca'd me bonny ; 
 And a' the answer he gat frae me. 
 Was, My bonny Andrew Lammie 1" 
 
 In short the gaugers were hoaxed 
 most completely ; and Rob. Roy now 
 quizzed them most excessively, to the 
 great diversion of the people from the 
 south end of the island, and Colin St. 
 Clyde, who scarcely expected to find 
 the piper of Bute so adroit in turning 
 from their purpose two excisemen, two 
 sheriff's officers, and the jailor and 
 sexton of Rothsay. 
 
 This little adventure, though to Rob. 
 Roy and a few others a mere matter of 
 moonshine, was to St. Clyde for many 
 a day afterwards a fund of agreeable
 
 ST. CLYDE. 181 
 
 reflection and solitary amusement; and 
 the gangers were so laughed at by all 
 the people in the island, that it became, 
 for fifteen years after the marriage of 
 Andrew Gillies, a common* bye- word — 
 " Who piped the gaugers out of the 
 wine ?" And when there was any indi- 
 cation of smuggling going on in the 
 south end of the island, the people of 
 Rothsay used so say, '* Ay ! Rob. Roy 
 kens what's what as wee! as any body ; 
 when the sun sets in Ettrick Bay, Rob. 
 Roy '11 come and live in Rosai/" — for 
 it was thus that that town, from which 
 the Prince of Wales takes the title of 
 Duke, was pronounced by country 
 people of the island of Bute.
 
 182 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A soldier, an' please your reverence, said I, prays as 
 often (of his own accord) as a parson; and when he 
 is fighting for his king, and for his own life, and for 
 his honour too, he has the most reason to pray to God 
 of any one in the whole world : he must say his pray- 
 ers how and when he can ; for God only knows who is 
 a hypocrite, and who is not. 
 
 Sterne. 
 
 When the company got to the ferry, 
 all was bustle and confusion. The 
 sergeant had got his complement of 
 men ; one of the three that made it up 
 was the officious dominie's son, who 
 had left the wedding in a pet. Fergus 
 Maclean had but little profited by 
 his father's instructions. He would 
 go any where sooner than to school, 
 when a boy; and when in it, he would 
 do any thing sooner than learn his
 
 ST. CLYDE. 183 
 
 tasks. The dominie was heart-broken 
 with him even in boyhood. Yv^hen Fer- 
 gus grew up, he chose to learn the 
 business of a tailor: this he did not 
 like; a soldier was the end of him. 
 
 Three recruits, within four and 
 twenty hours, made the whisky circu- 
 late among the former ones, as if all 
 were to be made generals for drinking. 
 But what was the dominie's horror, 
 when he saw Fergus, with the ser- 
 geant's bonnet on, *' presiding at the 
 p'mt stoup P*' Fergus ** had freely taken 
 the shilling; it was all his father's 
 fault ; the dominie had himself to 
 thank for it : Fergus iMaclean would 
 iiot be called worse than he was; and, 
 since his father publickly declared him 
 an U71C0 loon, the sogers were the best 
 friends he could get: they might all 
 say what they liked, all the wedding 
 people knew whom the dominie had
 
 184 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 to blame for Fergus taking on for a 
 twa and forty man : he thought he 
 could handle the claymore as well as 
 the shears ; and the bayonet he would 
 soon learn to use, as easily as he took 
 up the bodkin/' 
 
 It was in this strain Fergus went on, 
 before the poor distracted father could 
 open his mouth. Indeed, though a 
 man whose temper had, for thirty 
 years, been daily tried by refractory 
 boys, this scene was by far too much 
 for him. 
 
 The honest sergeant took Mr. Mac- 
 lean by the hand, and declared he 
 was guiltless. Fergus came of himself, 
 and threatened, if he did not enlist 
 him, to tell the young laird when he 
 returned from the wedding: the ser- 
 geant, therefore, enlisted him in the 
 king's name; and if Fergus did *' nae 
 rue, he would be sworn in the neist
 
 ST. CLYDE. 185 
 
 day." The tears trickled down the old 
 father's cheeks ; and every body there, 
 but Fergus, felt pity. 
 
 Nothing would move Fergus's reso- 
 lution : next day he was sworn in 
 with the other two ; and the ser- 
 geant announced to his recruits, that 
 St. Clyde had got his complement of 
 men, and they should march on 
 Friday, Friday came ; all the men 
 were at the rendezvous ; but there 
 were many there besides them. The 
 recruits were all the sons of poor men, 
 but respectable people j and poverty 
 did not shut their hearts against pa- 
 rental affection. The sons too, when 
 the parting morning came, felt they 
 had the hearts of children. Every mo- 
 ther was there weeping and bemoan- 
 ing the lot of her bairn ; every father 
 was there, and there was no brother or 
 sister staid at home. 
 
 The sergeant was the only man
 
 1S6 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 going for whom tears were not shed. 
 They had fallen for him when he left 
 Dumbarton, fifteen years before that 
 time. The march conmienced ; the 
 recruits supported in one arm their 
 aged and weeping mother ; a sister or 
 sweetheart clung to the other; in some 
 instances, the father and his remaining 
 family walked in the rear of the son, 
 or by his side, or between the single 
 files on the road. It was in this man- 
 ner they marched to Rothsay, a jour- 
 ney of four miles. The piper of the 
 regiment was not there. Rob. Roy 
 got half-a-crown to " cheer the king's 
 men to the boat.'' 
 
 They had to pass the manse. The 
 minister came out; the dominie was 
 there too. The minister eyed the 
 motley group with fixed attention: they 
 would have passed the lawn before the 
 manse door; for the sergeant did not 
 offer to halt his men, and only put his
 
 ST. CLYDE. 187 
 
 hand to his bonnet, and then to his 
 lips, as he was going by Mr. Thorn- 
 hill ; words spake he none : but the 
 minister would not allow them to pass 
 in that manner. 
 
 " Will the sergeant have the good- 
 ness to oblige me," said the pious di- 
 vine, '^ and halt his men till I take my 
 leave o' them a', and crave the protec- 
 tion o' the God of battles for so many 
 fine and well-known lads ?" 
 
 The men were halted in an instant: 
 the minister took his station beside the 
 sergeant. By a natural impulse a ring 
 was formed round these men. '' The 
 good soldier of Christ was pleased to 
 see one of King George's heroes take 
 his bonnet oiF, and look for a benison 
 at earthly hands." 
 
 There was not now a whisper heard: 
 the sobs of mothers, and the heaving 
 breasts of sisters and sweethearts, gave
 
 188 ST. CLYDK. 
 
 the only indication that the motionless 
 young women in that sorrowful group 
 had still animation left. 
 
 The minister was seldom seen with- 
 out a book in his hand ; his pocket 
 Bible he never wanted from his side ^ 
 it was that book which has GOD for 
 its author, truth for its matter, and 
 salvation for its end, that the good man 
 now held in his hand. 
 
 " Since you have kindly halted your 
 men, sergeant, you will bear me to do 
 the duties of their pastor for the last 
 time perhaps." 
 
 ** Certainly, sir 5 we are na' fleeing 
 before a foe : na, na ; the twa and 
 forty Highlanders ne'er was ken'd be- 
 hind; she has but ae side, and that's 
 the face side, that any Frenchman ever 
 seed." 
 
 The devout man then called the do- 
 minie to him.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 189 
 
 " Mr. Maclean, will you raise the 
 tune; we shall sing the first eight verses 
 of the forty-fourth psalm." 
 
 Mr. Maclean tried it: there was no 
 music in his voice; sighs stifled even 
 his breathing : what was to be done ? 
 
 " If we cannot sing, let us pray," 
 said the minister. Nobody there had 
 ever heard such a prayer — the unction 
 came from above : who could keep from 
 weeping ? 
 
 Fathers and mothers, brothers and 
 sisters, little boys and little girls, and 
 stout-hearted men that came only out 
 of acquaintanceship, salted the earth 
 with their briny tears. 
 
 Sandy Glass and the wicked Rob. 
 Roy grat that day. 
 
 When the good man had craved Hea- 
 ven's amplest boon on this part of his 
 flock that was called to serve their 
 king and defend their native land, he 
 gave them a suitable exhortation on
 
 190 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 fidelity and obedience, and warned 
 them of the crime of forgetting their 
 parents, who were now absolved from 
 their baptismal vows, as the lads were 
 all come to man's estate; and concluded 
 by observing, '^ that he expected to 
 hear good accounts of them all : they 
 could all read; he hoped every one had 
 a Bible in his wallet ?" Every mother 
 answered '* Yes." 
 
 And now the good man, beginning 
 with Fergus Maclean, shook hands with 
 them all. 
 
 When he turned to the veteran ser- 
 geant, the maimed warrior was on his 
 bare knees in an instant, and uncovered, 
 to receive a blessing; and his blessing 
 was given in the most rugged ac* 
 cents. The minister could refrain no 
 longer; he wept aloud. Tlie neighbour- 
 ing hills echoed the '^ ohons !" of the 
 fathers and the shrieks of the mothers. 
 None saw Mac bean rise from this
 
 ST. CLYDE. 191 
 
 posture; but the recruits and their 
 friends observed him staggering in ad- 
 vance, blubbering his piety to Fleaven 
 and his gratitude to the minister, 
 and the crowd followed him. Rob. 
 Roy could not fill his bag-pipe for a 
 a long time ; and, except the confused 
 noise of crying and sobbing, the whole 
 company were a furlong from the 
 manse before any one knew he could 
 speak. At length Mr. Gillies and the 
 dominie broke silence. 
 
 ''Your bairn is nae mair sad since 
 the ofood minister a:ae him his benison." 
 
 '' Though the blessings of the MOST 
 HIGH follow the lad, the Scripture nae 
 where forbids us to sorrow." 
 
 " I dinna profess to be sae weel 
 learnt i' the Bible as ye are; but really, 
 dominie, ye might e'en cheer up your 
 heart a' wee : your example will be 
 followed by the lave ; we a' look to the
 
 I9i ST. CLYDE. 
 
 minister and you for guidance i' this 
 weary warld." 
 
 '* It's hard to drain comfort from one 
 that is dry — na ! na ! my gray hairs 
 shall go down to the grave wi* sorrow ; 
 it 'II be well if I go into the threshing 
 floor o' heaven like a sheaf o' corn full 
 ripe." 
 
 They had now come in sight of the 
 Laird St. Clyde's house. Rob. Roy, by 
 the sergeant's orders, struck up " The 
 Highland Laddie;" and the whole of 
 the company that could find the song, 
 joined in the chorus. 
 
 ** O my bonny, bonny Highland laddie ; 
 
 My handsome charming Highland laddie ; 
 May Heaven still guard and love reward 
 
 The Lowland lass and her Highland laddie." 
 
 Sandy Glass, who kept close by the 
 sergeant's side till they came to St. 
 Clyde's, ran up to the laird, scraping 
 and bowing, and pointed first to Fer- 
 gus, and next to the dominie.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 193 
 
 St. Clyde and his son were on the 
 edge of the road to receive the salute 
 and refresh the spirits of the recruits 
 by a parting glass. 
 
 The mixed emotions of the recruits, 
 of their parents, their brothers and 
 sisters, and sweethearts, were ^nely 
 read in their countenances. There 
 was not one of these people but would 
 have gone to the earth's utmost bound 
 to serve the laird : and though their 
 grief was immoderate at parting with 
 their sons, they were reconciled to the 
 fates of the lads, since none of them 
 would have enlisted but for the sake of 
 young St. Clyde. They reflected that, 
 if their sons defended Colin in the day 
 of battle, his father would shield them 
 from the oppression of their richer 
 neighbours ; and a poor widow, hung 
 on her son's arm, and as she weeped in 
 all the bitterness of her heart, cried, 
 " O laddie! laddie! ye've been a weary 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 laddie to me ! and yet I widna part 
 wi* my laddie for a' the jewels i' our 
 king's crown; but since he is ganging 
 wi' the young laird, 1 part wi* him 
 wi' mony a tear ; but I can gi' him a 
 mother's blessing, and gif he be spared 
 to come back frae the wars, there is 
 nane will be happier than me ; but 
 gif he should fa' midst the hail-showers 
 o' balls, he'll fa' for St. Clyde, an' I'll 
 aye hae a friend." 
 
 " Sergeant Macbean, you'll have the 
 goodness to halt your men, and al- 
 low St. Clyde to give King George's 
 sogers one glass of whisky before they 
 take the sea ; it is two good miles to 
 the ferry, and the cea is a little rough ; 
 a glass will give the lads spirit : the sea- 
 air will soon put it out of their heads ; 
 they are all as sober as on Sunday, 
 and one glass can do none of them 
 any harm." 
 
 It was a fine compliment St. Clyde
 
 ST. CLYDE. 195 
 
 paid the sergeant : Macbean felt all the 
 pride of his cloth at the words " your 
 men ;" and the sergeant was disobey- 
 ing no command in halting the ecruits 
 at the door of the laird. "The laird was a 
 gentleman, and the recruits were his 
 son's men ; and the sergeant knew his 
 duty too well to stop when every body 
 wished ; the recruits were now the king's 
 men, the laird was the justice of the 
 peace, and had sworn them all in ; it 
 was nothing more than halting for a re- 
 freshment, and the laird would never 
 give them spirits to get drunk.'* Ideas 
 like these besieged the veteran's mind 
 whilst the laird spoke his request; the 
 request of the laird and the answer of 
 the sergeant took up much less time 
 than the describing of it. 
 " Forty-second ! Halt !" — All are stilL 
 Baskets full of bread and cheese, two 
 stoups full of water, ajar full of whisky, 
 
 and a trencher full of glasses and tum- 
 
 K 2
 
 190' ST. CLYDE. 
 
 biers were on tables on the lawn in an 
 instant. 
 
 "Come, dominie, say a grace, " said 
 St. Clyde. 
 
 The heart-sad man essayed, and pro- 
 nounced some dozen of words which 
 nobody could make out; he was stifled 
 with grief. 
 
 " Heaven on this occasion,'* cried the 
 laird, " takes the will for the deed. Ser- 
 geant, we shall drink, The health of his 
 Majesty King George.'' 
 
 The sergeant put his hand to his bon- 
 net, and facing the right about, "Forty- 
 second ! we drink our king's health." Af- 
 ter a little conversation between Colin 
 and the sergeant, the laird pressed the re- 
 cruits with a second glass, and Sergeant 
 Macbean, of his own accord, gave a 
 toast. '*Forty-second," cried the loyal 
 man, "we drink Tothehealthof the Laird 
 St. Clyde and his family T And ''every 
 glass was drained as dry as a whistle.'*
 
 ST. CLYDE. 197 
 
 The laird thanked the sergeant, and 
 Colin begged he might be allowed to 
 give the men half a glass more. 
 
 "Sergeant," said Colin, ** we now 
 drink, To the for tij- second Royal High- 
 landers r 
 
 The sergeant's bonnet waved in the 
 air, and three hurras crowned the toast. 
 
 Rob. Roy struck up — 
 
 ** Adieu for a while, my native green plains. 
 My nearest relations and neighbouring swains ;" 
 
 but nobody joined in the tune. 
 
 " I'll gar ye be fain to follow me." 
 The laird seeing some of the lads not 
 disposed to finish this third glass, cried 
 out, " Don't be afraid, my lads ; do 
 ** as the lasses do, say no, and tak it :" 
 and when the lads had drank off the 
 spirits^ the laird called each of the re- 
 cruits to him by name, and shook hands 
 with them all, and hoped, "when they 
 all should return, in the garb of old Gaul,
 
 158 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 to hear that every lad among them 
 had done his duty." 
 
 To the sergeant he said, "Macbean, 
 I wish our king had bfc fifty thou- 
 " sand men such as these." 
 
 ** Pity melts the mind to love" 
 
 The sorrowful mothers were objects of 
 the deepest concern to Mrs. St. Clyde; 
 and whilst her husband regaled the men, 
 she and her daughtersoffered everything 
 their house could afford to these poor 
 but industrious and respectable women. 
 When the sergeant ordered his men to 
 prepare to march, and the young fellows 
 fell into some sort of order, as readily as 
 the word was given, the mothers set up 
 such lamentations and weeping that it 
 was necessary for young St. Clyde to 
 support his sisters, and the laird with 
 difficulty kept his wife from sinking to 
 the earth whilst he assisted her in get- 
 ting into the house. Colin had not of- 
 fered to take upon himself any autho-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 199 
 
 rity over his men; Macbean had the 
 duty of colonel, adjutant, and sergeant 
 to perform ; and never did man show- 
 more activity and devotion in the exe- 
 cution of his duty.
 
 200 ST. CLYDE 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Yet trust I well, his duty done. 
 The orphan's God will guard my son. 
 
 Scott. 
 
 There were no more interruptions met 
 with till they got to Rothsay, except 
 that the recruits received a blessing at 
 every door thej^ passed on the road j 
 for whether it were farm-house or 
 cotter's cabin that they passed, every 
 human being came out to take farewel 
 of the lads, and to soothe the mourning 
 hearts of their relations by a heavy sigh, 
 a deep Ohon ! or a flood of tears ; and 
 before they got into the town Colin 
 St. Clyde came galloping up to his men, 
 and the hill on their right told to the 
 loch that washed its eastern side, that 
 
 ^' I\Iuch joy'd the men their chief to see." 
 
 The ferry-boat was freighted by some
 
 ST. CLYDE, 
 
 201 
 
 drovers, but the sergeant took posses- 
 sion of her in the king*s name, and for- 
 bade the ferry-men to leave her, on pain 
 of- being sent to jail by St. Clyde for 
 refusing to ferry over to Dumbarton his 
 majesty's forty-second royal Highland- 
 ers ; and the sergeant would not stay at 
 the quay. The men had got enough ; 
 their fathers and mothers could not go 
 any farther; it was of no use to stay 
 there ; every mother embraced and kiss- 
 ed her son ; the little boys and girls 
 clung to the arms of their brothers go- 
 ing to the wars; the unhappy sisters and 
 sweethearts were kissed by their bro- 
 thers and lovers, and they weeped and 
 were kissed and weeped again. When 
 the fathers of these young men embra- 
 ced them, and, looking up to heaven, 
 prayed ** God's blessing to go wi' the 
 lad;'* the hearts of the skippers and 
 people of Rothsay, who were on the 
 quay merely as by-standers, were wrung
 
 202 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 with the scene ; and the wretched mo- 
 thers raised such piercing cries and hor- 
 rid shrieks, that the sergeant, to save a re- 
 petition of so much misery, in the king's 
 name calling his men on hoard, cut the 
 hawser with his sword, and ordered the 
 helmsman to steer instantly from the 
 quay. 
 
 The boat now stood out in the bay 
 some two hundred yards or less, but 
 the loud '' Ohon ! the pious blessing 
 ^' and lang farewell," passed swift as 
 the vivid flame between the quay, the 
 shore, and the ferry-boat; but Rob. Roy 
 was playing 
 
 ** My soger laddie is over the sea — " 
 
 and every heart most cordially said, 
 
 ** My blessing gang wi' my soger laddie — " 
 
 whilst the distracted parents prayed, 
 
 ** Shield him, ye angels ! frae death and alarms ! 
 Return him wi' laurels to my longing arms. " 
 
 But Rob. Roy had not all the honour 
 of the day, in mocking with music the
 
 ST. CLYDE. 203 
 
 tender sympathies of these distressed 
 people. 
 
 Hugh Gow, the Kintyre piper, was 
 on the quay for a passage to Dumbar- 
 ton, and Sergeant Macbean insisted 
 there was no partiahty in taking Hugh 
 Gow as the only passenger, save the 
 boatmen, who were not King George^s 
 men, because Gow would " make a' 
 hearts blithe ;" and to do so, " Come, 
 Kintyre Gow," cried Macbean, '' up 
 with it, up with it, my lad ;" the ser» 
 geant himself waving his bonnet to 
 the shore, and singing 
 
 ** Farewell to Lochaber, and farewell to my Jean — " 
 
 And he was joined in the second 
 verse by Alexander Fyfe, who had *^ en- 
 listed because Jenny Wilkes^s parents 
 would not let him hae her." 
 
 But before Fyfe had got through the 
 verse, almost all the boat's company 
 joined him in the song. The craigs
 
 204 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 and caves at Bogganny Point echoed 
 the full swell of every voice on board. 
 The quay was crowded, and the shore 
 was lined with people ; and when the 
 wherry began to make the offing of the 
 bay, and then to stretch for the oppo- 
 site shore, the soul of every aiother was 
 in her eyes, and her eyes pursued the 
 boat amidst the foamy billows. The 
 talisman of woe fled with the breeze 5 
 and, by a simultaneous movement, every 
 man on board, and on the quay, and 
 on the shore, waved his bonnet or hat 
 in the air. The three hurras which 
 followed, came in the most wild and 
 enthusiastic peals, and, except in one 
 or two instances of widowed female 
 grief, a gleam of resignatio»n and con- 
 tent sat on every brow. 
 
 Now they are returning to their 
 homes through the town ; and the 
 young lasses especially, possessing 
 every thing to recommend their beauty.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 205 
 
 endear their softness, and give them the 
 pre-eminence for friendship, would jus- 
 tify the most pleasing reflections on 
 the composition of their temper and 
 attachment. 
 
 Colin, after the departure of his re- 
 cruits, wrote a long letter to Leving- 
 stone, giving him an account of his 
 success in raising his complement of 
 men; and in the same letter he gave a 
 long description of the recruits' first 
 march. 
 
 His letter concluded with many re- 
 flections Oil the instability of human 
 projects; and, referring to theagreement 
 to which thev had come of writing 
 each other during the vacation, Colin 
 hoped, that as there was no prospect of 
 their being fellow-students any longer, 
 their correspondence would not close; 
 but that they would continue to write 
 as friends. His letter was closed in
 
 20^ ST. CLYDE. 
 
 these words : — " After this description 
 of so much parental and filial love; in 
 a scene where one might naturally ex- 
 pect to find the sire's breast locked up 
 against the very entrance of his son's 
 name ; and when, too, one might ex- 
 pect to find the sons who could deli- 
 berately or rashly leave their homes, 
 without much hope of bettering their 
 lot ; when the wretched mother, more- 
 over, might be expected to be found 
 armed, like a lioness robbed of her 
 whelp — how is it, Levingstone, that we 
 see the untutored rugged natures of 
 these poor unhappy people embellished 
 with the nicest sensibility, tempered 
 with delicacy ? To see so many souls 
 intoxicated with so much affliction, 
 but to behold the refractory and stub- 
 born conduct of sons, whose former in- 
 sensibility was stronger than the ties of 
 nature, producing a revolution of sym-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 207 
 
 pathies that approached even to illu- 
 sion, is a problem I shall leave you to 
 solve. 
 
 " You must forgive me, in putting 
 out of the question, that these young 
 men have gone into the army that I 
 might be a soldier. They could not 
 want the sense to know that they could 
 not all serve under my immediate com- 
 mand. Death, exchange, promotion, 
 might in a day bereave them of their 
 countryman and leader. 
 
 " I am told that there is hardly a re- 
 cruiting party leaves the Highlands, or 
 indeed any part of our native land 
 Scotia, where the most afflicting scenes 
 are not witnessed. 
 
 " Is it parting thus — is it the retro- 
 spection of home, that in distant lands, 
 on the mighty ocean, in the crowded 
 city, the camp, and the battle's loudest 
 thunder, preserves, without decay, the 
 lively, strong, and enthusiastic love of
 
 208 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 Scotland and of countrymen in the 
 breasts of her sons ? Is it from this 
 that our native warriors exhibit so 
 much honour, fidelity, and unwearied 
 prowess ? 
 
 *' The sergeant of whom I speak, is 
 not a tall man, nor is he stoutly made, 
 but he is tough as a hazel stick ; his 
 very muscles seem to be of whalebone ; 
 his countenance is placid, with a mix- 
 ture of sternness and scorn ; and his 
 eye searches every corner of your 
 heart: in company and in conversation 
 he is affable, easy, and temperate; 
 more given to hear and ask questions 
 than to answer or prate. It was with 
 difficulty one could get a tale of a bat- 
 tle from him : but the sternness and re- 
 solution he showed when he ordered 
 his men on board, and the fire that 
 flashed in his eyes when he drew his 
 sword, and cut the rope which held the 
 wherry to the quay, plainly indicated,
 
 ST. CLYDE. 209 
 
 as a poor silly lad present observed, 
 '' that the deel was aye at the elbow o' 
 a Highland man ;" and poor Sandy 
 Glass wondered " how the auld quay 
 fu o' Frenchmen wo'd bide to be 
 looked at by Sergeant Macbean and 
 his naked claymore ?" 
 
 " Can it be the ties of filial affection 
 so strongly implanted in their breasts, 
 that offers such true moral grandeur in 
 all the toils which our countrymen 
 pass through ? Is it the hope of re- 
 turning home with a name unsullied by 
 crime j or is it the dangers they are so 
 frequently exposed to, that sublimes 
 the sentiments, and elevates the prin- 
 ciples of such men as Macbean, whose 
 feeling of enmity and hostility appears 
 to terminate with the battle ? — whom 
 we see, when his country's glory or 
 defence summons, to be ferocious as the 
 tiger, 'midst the horrors of strife and 
 carnage, where he evinces the most
 
 210 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 frigid and unsympathetic calculation 
 of his personal danger, humbly, and 
 unconscious of the respect with which 
 he is viewed personally, falling on 
 his knees, and craving a " benison 1'* 
 and happy, if the brightness of Cale- 
 donia's name has not been tarnished 
 by his neglect of the duties of a citizen, 
 a son, a soldier, and fhp rk^imf^ r^f Phri*:.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 211 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 For since the claims 
 Of social life to different labours urge 
 The active pow'rs of man j with wise intent 
 The hand of Nature on peculiar minds 
 Imprints a different bias, and to each 
 Decrees its province in the common toil. 
 
 Akenside. 
 
 St. Clyde wrote his friend Augustus, 
 who had now returned to Edinburgh, 
 and expressed a hope of seeing him 
 very soon, — though not to pore over 
 science and literature. Eliza expres- 
 sed all the gratitude of her heart for 
 
 what the Earl of B had done for 
 
 Colin: they were indeed the feelings of 
 of an ingenuous heart for the services 
 received by one on whom an affection- 
 ate soul dotes. 
 
 It was now time for Colin to leave
 
 212 
 
 ST. clydp:. 
 
 Bute; but he was only going to Edin- 
 burgh to join his regiment, which had 
 left Dumbarton castle on the very day 
 hisrecruits sailed. He came to the shore 
 of Schulock; it was the regular ferry- 
 town across the channel to the main- 
 land: ferry-boat he could get none that 
 day; two had already sailed, and the 
 third was repairing; there were none of 
 the fishermen would take him to the 
 Largs; they were mending their nets, 
 and their boats they would not launch> 
 their minds were soured by the recruit- 
 ing business: a few of the youths how- 
 ever at the ferry offered to take the laird 
 over to the Auld-kirk, but their boats 
 could not bear a heavy sea ; and 
 
 "The clouds were journeying east the sky. 
 The wind was low, and the swell was high. 
 And the glossy sea was heaving bright. 
 Like ridges and hills of liquid light ; 
 While far on her lubric bosom were seen 
 The magic dyes of purple and green." 
 
 Howeverthey hadall been out rough- 
 er days than that, and if St. Clyde was
 
 ST. CLYDE. 213 
 
 not more afraid of his life than they 
 were of theirs, he had only to say the 
 word, and there was no danger but John 
 Munn's boat would make the opposite 
 shore. 
 
 St. Clyde received his father's em- 
 brace; four of these young men were 
 in the boat in an instant: she had be- 
 lono:ed to a Greenland whaler, she was 
 wherry rigged, the crew were excellent 
 sailors; in five minutes she was clear of 
 the shore, and 
 
 " How joyed the bark her sides to lave ! 
 
 She leaned to the lee and she girdled the wave! 
 Aloft on the stayless verge she hung, 
 Light on the wave veered and swung. 
 And the crests of the billows before her flung: 
 Loud murmured the channel with gulp and with 
 The seal swam aloof and the dark sea fowl . [growl. 
 Over head neither sun nor cerulean sky shone ! 
 A pathway of snow was the ocean alone !" 
 
 They were not half a league from the 
 ferry till the spray drenched all on board, 
 the gale gathered strength, it blew from 
 the Garroch-head, the foremast gave
 
 214 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 way ; it was a moment of stir and com- 
 motion; Stuart^s cutter scudding before 
 the wind was but a gun-shot from them; 
 he saw their distress; and when all the 
 elements seemed combined to senddown 
 this little bark like a bird of the ocean, 
 the cutter steered close upon them, and 
 the men throwing a rope, young Munn 
 seized it, and the boat was brought 
 alongside ; for the cutter lay-to for a lit- 
 tle. They were all kindly taken on board 
 by Lieu . Stuart, who was very much 
 pleased to find in the wherry his friend 
 S . Clyde; he did not know his sis- 
 ter Eliza and St. Clyde were friends : 
 the wherry was towed by the cutter, and 
 St. Clyde was safely landed at Weems's 
 bay. 
 
 Colin hastened to Edinburgh, and ap- 
 peared there in a very different light to 
 that in which he had shone when he 
 was at the university. Then his dress 
 was plain, and he might only be distin-
 
 ST. CLYDE, 215 
 
 guished by one's personal knowledge of 
 him ; now he was dressed in the full uni- 
 form of the forty-second Highlanders; 
 and so well did he suit it, that, as he pa- 
 raded his men on the Castle hill, or ap- 
 peared at a field day on the Links, eve- 
 ry one who saw him pointed, and said . 
 " There — there is St.Clyde ! Doesn't he 
 become the bonnet well ? And the plaid, 
 look. Rose, how elegant the folds !" 
 
 The bonnet and claymore were his 
 passports into any company, and he 
 willingly availed himself of their power 
 in visiting his friend Eliza. Mrs. Stu- 
 Jart still opposed her daughter's partia- 
 lity and attachment; but Augustus, 
 who now felt something of his sister's 
 feelings, favoured it, and gave every op- 
 portunity he could to St. Clyde to enjoy 
 the company and conversation of his 
 sister ; it was only walking out with 
 Eliza; and they always met St. Clyde, 
 who, if he came to Mr. Stuart's house.
 
 216 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 invariably got into Augustus's study, 
 and there he was sure of having at least 
 ten minutes chit-chat with her, for 
 there was no other place in the house 
 where they were safe, and there too 
 only when Augustus was along with 
 them. The mother never suspected 
 her daughter for she would sit for 
 hours together in the company of Au- 
 gustus; so apt are the suspicious to be 
 deceived by the appearance of plausi- 
 bility, and to confound with their own 
 conduct the genuine friendsliip of the 
 honest and virtuous. 
 
 What was on Eliza's part a real at- 
 tachment, but on St. Clyde's only the 
 Platonic sentimental, now became pure 
 unsoptiisticated esteem. There was a 
 greatdisparity between them; herfather 
 could, if he pleased, give her a hand- 
 some fortune, at least it was talked of 
 in this way, though he had several chil- 
 dren to divide his property amongst
 
 ST. CLYDE. 217 
 
 them; his eldest son was in expectation 
 of the fortune of a bachelor uncle, 
 who enjoyed but an indifferent state of 
 health ; but St. Clyde knew if he mar- 
 ried Eliza against her parents' wishes, 
 her fortune would be trifling enough, 
 and he had none of his own; his father, 
 though a laird, was not wealthy; the 
 pride of the Laird St. Clyde in the meri- 
 dian of his days was too great to allow 
 him to engage in any mercantile pur- 
 suit; he had tried the profession of arms; 
 he could never make his way to the 
 head of a regiment; the times in which 
 he lived were not filled with twenty 
 years of successive bustle and strife and 
 din of arms; and when the harvest of 
 carnage and death arrived, he had left 
 the service and lived on his half pay, 
 too infirm in resolution to succeed by 
 a second attempt of risking the dangers 
 of the tented field; his estate was but 
 small; he was no farmer; it was there- 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 fore by the greatest frugality and par- 
 simony that his spouse was abletomake 
 both ends meet ; but he used to say, 
 when in company with people of qua- 
 lity on the island, " Annie is better to 
 me than a fortune; a thrifty wife is 
 of more value at the year's end than a 
 large income." 
 
 St. Clyde had just completed the 
 drudgery of drilling, and might be 
 considered an accomplished soldier; 
 he was at any rate an elegant one, and 
 he had still much pleasure in the com- 
 pany of Antony Levingstone and Au- 
 gustus Stuart. Colin's time was well 
 employed in Edinburgh; he spent much 
 of it, too, with his old professors, who 
 felt a pleasure in the visits of their 
 quondam pupil : and the opportunities 
 he enjoyed, of witnessing the gradual 
 developement of Eliza's affection, es- 
 tablished herimmoveably on the throne 
 of his heart, as the sole empress of his
 
 ST, CLYDE, 219 
 
 undivided affection. But clouds yet 
 surrounded him, and the gleam of hope 
 that burst through the deepening tints, 
 but faintly opened on his view the 
 beauties of a nearing vista. 
 
 L2
 
 220 ST. CLYDE* 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Dark boding fears hung on my mindj 
 That I should never see him more." 
 
 An order came for the Highland Watch 
 to prepare for foreign service; in two 
 days more, the route arrived. St. Clyde 
 vtras to march with his regiment to 
 Greenock, there to embark for Canada. 
 When he went to Mr. Stuart's, to bid 
 the family " good bye," even the mo- 
 ther wept ; and Ehza, poor dear creature, 
 "for nought but love can answer love,'* 
 looked pity's self at their parting. 
 Cohn gave her a ring, on which was 
 the most exquisite enamel of his por- 
 trait; and she put into his hands a 
 small package, which the goodness of
 
 ST. CLYDE. 221 
 
 her elder brother Robert enabled her to 
 makeup; and St.[Clyde, ignorant of its 
 contents, received it; but what was his 
 surprise to find it contained a heavy 
 purse of gold, and a billet on which 
 were inscribed these lines: 
 
 That you may not your friend forget, 
 Accept, dear sir, this simple net. 
 Contrived in gentle bonds to hold 
 That mighty necromancer, gold , 
 The servant of the good and brave. 
 The tyrant of the fool and knave. 
 Of power to blanch an Ethiop white, 
 Or make an angel dark as night. 
 
 And when your generous bosom sighs 
 
 To chase the tear from misery's eyes. 
 
 May this unfailing stores impart. 
 
 To aid the impulse of your heart; 
 
 Or when on pleasure's rosy wing 
 
 You rove through life's delightful spring , 
 
 Refined by love's celestial fires 
 
 And holy friendship's deathless flame j 
 Inspired by elegant desires. 
 
 And smiling hopes of virtuous fame: 
 May this, like fairy gifts of old, 
 Its ample treasures still unfold 
 To gratify each ardent thought. 
 With honour, taste, or genius fraught.
 
 222 ST. CLYDE, 
 
 But should your guardian angel sleep. 
 And error lead you to the bowers. 
 Where dissipation hides with flowers 
 
 The scorpions which around her creep, 
 
 And warbles her Circean song. 
 
 That binds the soul in fetters strong : 
 
 Oh ! then may this no power supply 
 
 To aid the fatal phantasy ; 
 
 So ohall the dire delusion cease. 
 
 And reason win you back to peace, 
 
 To fire-side joys and pure delights. 
 
 Unsullied days and tranquil nights ; 
 
 To every charm that home bestows. 
 
 And every bliss that virtue knows ! 
 
 When St. Clyde had perused this 
 piece of poetic advice, he put it care- 
 fully into the purse; he would have 
 returned the whole; he was suspend- 
 ed in resolution ; he consulted his old 
 friend Levingstone, not that he had 
 not decision enough of character, to 
 act by himself, but, without being 
 avariciously rich, or needily poor, his 
 circumstances being that of a captain 
 in the army ; he had been an ensign 
 but a month, and a lieutenant but
 
 ST. CLYDE. ^23 
 
 three; his twenty fine recruits gained 
 him all Dunmorven's influence, and he 
 now commrinded the light company 
 ofthe4'2nd.; and Levingstone advised 
 him by all means, not to insult the 
 kindness of Eliza by returning her pre- 
 sent : her family was wealthy ; she had 
 done it with the very best intentions, 
 and Colin ought to be satisfied : it 
 was, moreover, the gift of a real friend, 
 and had been made in the sincerity of 
 a good heart. 
 
 *' Take my advice, St. Clyde," said 
 Levingstone, " and answer the poesy 
 of your friend in a note that shall re- 
 flect honour on her talents for the ser- 
 vice of the muses, and express your 
 embarrassment at accepting the purse, 
 but conclude by paying a tribute of 
 gratitude to her generosity, which you 
 shudder to insult; and finish your epi- 
 stle, by asking her if Eliza ever heard 
 of a poor being placed in the same
 
 1824 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 circumstances with Colin St. Clyde?" 
 " But," continued Levingstone, '* the 
 agreement on epistolary correspon- 
 dence we have but scantily fulfilled ; 
 Jet me remind you of it, and express a 
 hope of its continuance." 
 
 Next morning Colin marched with 
 his regiment from the Castle, the piper 
 playing— 
 
 " In the garb of old Gaul, and the fire of old Rome, 
 From the heath-covered mountains of Scotia we come." 
 
 And the pibroch ceased not till the 
 corps descended the West-bow, passed 
 through the Grass market, and cleared 
 the West- port. 
 
 The drums and fifes then struck up 
 a livelier air; and the people, who did 
 not then take farewell of Dunmorven's 
 men, went as far as Corstorphine. In 
 three days the regiment was at Gree- 
 nock, where it embarked for Canada. 
 The Laird St. Clyde and Monsieur Vil- 
 lejuive came to Greenock to see the
 
 ST. CLYDE. 225 
 
 captain before he sailed. The laird 
 bad some horrible presentiment on his 
 mind, that he should never again see 
 his son ; but Villejuive hade him keep 
 up his spirits; his son might return 
 loaded with the blessings of the men 
 he commanded, and crowned with his 
 country's applause. But the laird per- 
 sisted in his opinion. Colin gave the 
 old man all the comfort he could. The 
 vessels got under weigh; and next 
 morning, about two o'clock, the laird 
 and Villejuive were landed below 
 Mount-Stuart House. 
 
 The laird came home. His wife 
 and daughters had eyed the transports 
 from the distant hills. The people of 
 the island prayed many a blessing, and 
 all protection on their sons ; and the 
 minister on the next sabbath day 
 prayed a prayer for the warring part 
 of his flock. 
 
 The first accounts the laird received 
 l5
 
 !226 $t. CLYVE. 
 
 from his son was a letter that had been 
 brought along with the dispatch of 
 General Wolfe. After detailing the 
 unsuccessful attempts of the general 
 to bring the Marquis de Montcalm to 
 battle at Montmorenci, St. Clyde la- 
 mented that General Wolfe had been 
 taken very ill. " He is consumed," 
 said he, " by care, by watching, and 
 by fatigue, too great for his delicate 
 constitution : his body seems unequal 
 to the vigorous and enterprising spirit 
 it lodges. It is not enough for him to 
 escape from so great an expedition un- 
 condemned and unapplauded; to be 
 pitied is but a milder censure: but his 
 deep thinking mind will strike out 
 some project which, if guided with 
 success, will make him shine amongst 
 the first generals in the universe.'* 
 x\nd history informs us hovv truly the 
 prediction of St. Clyde was verified. 
 The next accounts the laird received
 
 ST. CLYDE. 227 
 
 were from young Gillies : the letter 
 was very long; as it was written partly 
 to the laird, and partly to the people 
 at Millhole, with a paragraph to the 
 dominie, relating the fate of some fif- 
 teen of St. Clyde's recruits. 
 
 The letter of Gillies might have 
 served for a dispatch of itself: it was 
 read more frequently than General 
 Townshend's; and the praises of Gillies 
 on Colonel Howe, in leading the light 
 infantry and the Highlanders up the 
 narrow path-way, and surmounting 
 the obstacles of the high and steep as- 
 cent in front of Silling (the passage 
 in the mountains), was finely described; 
 and the position of both armies on the 
 heights of Abraham was neatly drawn 
 on a space in one corner of the paper, 
 not more than three inches by two. 
 But it would be repeating to no pur- 
 pose the conflict of the Highlanders 
 with their broad-swords, and the troops
 
 ^28 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 of the Marquis de Montcalm. Every 
 one knows how the action ended — the 
 French were not merely beaten, the 
 remains of their army could never be 
 accounted for. 
 
 The most afflicting theme poor Gil- 
 lies had to tell, was the fate of Captain 
 St. Clyde. He had been struck with a 
 bullet from a bush, and Serjeant Mac- 
 bean was carrying him in his arms to 
 the rear. The two armies were then 
 not more than forty yaj;ds asunder, 
 when the charge began, and the clay- 
 mores rung again upon the arms and 
 bones of the French and the Indians; 
 and after the action, neither the captain 
 northesergeant could be found. Gillies 
 had taken two entire days after the battle 
 to search for them, but all his efforts 
 were of no avail ; and what added to 
 their affliction, was the account of the 
 death of Dunmorven: he had fallen early 
 in the action. St. Clyde was seen beside
 
 ST. CLYDE. 229 
 
 Dunmorven just as he expired ; in five 
 minutes more St. Clyde was hit in the 
 body, and fell ; and it was reported 
 that Macbean received a shot, and fell 
 with his burden as he was going to the 
 rear. This was all that could with 
 certainty be known. The French were 
 not known to have taken any prisoners. 
 The laird and his family were great- 
 ly distressed by this news. Mrs. St. Clyde 
 had doted on her son, Norah loved Co- 
 lin with sisterly distraction, and Ellen 
 could now with poignant grief reflect 
 that she had been his favourite. The 
 laird would not give up all hopes: in a 
 greatexpedition there were many things 
 which might prevent Colin from writ- 
 ing home; he might have been carried 
 onboard of some of the ships; he might 
 have been carried wounded into the 
 town by the enemy, when they retreat- 
 ed from the heights of Abraham : in 
 short, every prop on which hope coulr.
 
 230 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 lean was eagerly seized; but the return 
 of the regiment proved that captain 
 St. Clyde was no more. 
 
 Mon. Villejuive paid every attention 
 to the laird and his family. The young 
 Villejuives now returned fromSt.Omer, 
 and like two dutiful cousins they divid- 
 ed their whole attention between Norah 
 and Ellen. Every day they were toge- 
 ther; and the sons, now as good at the 
 finesse of the Gaul as their father, were 
 flippant and assiduous in every pretty 
 word that could amuse, and in every lit- 
 tle elegant action that could serve and 
 please; and they were even studious to 
 find out how they might assuage the 
 grief and console the spirits of Norah 
 and Ellen ; lijey strove to do so in good 
 earnest, and they succeeded. 
 
 Louis Villejuive, the elder of these 
 youths, was now in liis element. The 
 candour, the simplicity, the probity of 
 his manners charmed the soul of Norah ;
 
 ST. CLYDE. 231 
 
 and he would invent a thousand inno- 
 cent httle artifices to extricate her from 
 the sorrow that preyed on her spirits. 
 At times he would reduce himself to the 
 same misery he found Norah in ; at 
 other times he would not deign to take 
 any notice of her grief, but with that 
 village- honesty, which wins without os- 
 tentation and pleases without assiduity, 
 he would exhaust the misery of Norah, 
 who would retire from his presence with 
 a negligence of attitude that gave a no- 
 bleness and majesty to her person and 
 deportment, and heightened the pic- 
 ture she offered to his view of the fruit- 
 lessness of affliction. 
 
 But he divided with Ellen the atten- 
 tions he could have paid toNorah alone. 
 His imagination was mostsprightly; and 
 he was of that age when it is permitted 
 for a susceptible heart to display itself 
 outwardly, and charm by its virtues, 
 without being violently agitated, but
 
 232 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 by diffusing happiness, and rendering 
 every scene agreeable in the midst of 
 the solitude of affliction and despair. 
 And the Laird St. Clyde, whose impa- 
 tience for the fate of his son was re- 
 doubled by the unprofitableness of his 
 enquiries, did not attempt to conceal 
 the pleasure he derived from the assi- 
 duities of Louis to the only happinesses 
 that remained to his soul, his dear No- 
 rah and Ellen. The grief of Mrs. St. 
 Clyde had a luxury in it for her soul : 
 she would prefer its bitterness to the 
 deceitful sweetsof joy ; but Louis would 
 interrupt her plaintive accents, and de- 
 liver up her soul to the sweet emotion 
 of pleasurable ideas, without appearing 
 to use the refinements of art or the at- 
 tributes of sprightliness; and this mo- 
 ther, Vv^ho seemed resolved to consecrate 
 the solitude of her life to grief, would 
 find it suspended by an agreeable dis- 
 traction in admiring the assemblage of
 
 §1 . CLYDE. %3S 
 
 innocent gaiety that mingled itself 
 with the conversations of her daugh- 
 ters and nephews, or the tales of mis- 
 fortunes which Louis would tell to 
 prove that others had had misfortunes 
 to encounter greater than she ; would 
 lift up her soul to heaven for salutary 
 counsel, and for strength at least to 
 follow such consolatory examples. 
 
 Mon. Villejuive would condole with 
 the Laird St. Clyde; and when the 
 name of Colin was mentioned, Ville- 
 juive would point out, that "though 
 there w^as much cause for grief. Cap- 
 tain St. Clyde did his duty at the most 
 important moment of his life; for when 
 his regiment performed prodigies of 
 valour, though the sacrifice was great, 
 being that of an only son, the name of 
 St. Clyde was rendered as immortal 
 as that of the brave general who ex- 
 pired just when victory descended 
 to crown him with the conqueror's
 
 t34t ST. CLYDt. 
 
 laurel :" and even this was consola- 
 tion to the laird, who with tears in 
 his eyes, and an inexpressible look 
 of mingled sorrow and satisfaction, 
 would borrow from the observation the 
 confidence of recounting the deeds of 
 his forefathers, and the traits of milita- 
 ry character which Colin evinced when 
 he was but a boy at school.
 
 ST. CLYDE. S35 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Her eyes 
 Brighten'd ; the quicken'd action of the blood 
 Tinged with a deeper hue her glowing cheek ; 
 And on her Ups there sat a smile which spake 
 The honourable pride of perfect love. 
 
 Southey's Roderick. 
 
 Though Villejuive had followed the 
 fortunes of the , first genius of the Stu- 
 ARTS,he had, by a timely retreat from 
 the standard of Prince Charles, saved 
 his life at the expense of his honour. 
 But he was a respectable man ; and 
 being a foreigner, the vassals of BUTE, 
 the brave and the wise, looked upon 
 Villejuive as an acquisition amongst 
 them. He was a young man when he 
 came to Rothsay, after his colonel 
 paid the forfeit of his native loyalty at 
 Carlisle y and though his fortune was
 
 236 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 small, by being parsimoniously dealt 
 out, he was not only able to keep his 
 pate white, his boots clean, his snuff 
 nice; but by the most refined policy 
 he contrived that the etiquette of his 
 house, and particularly his table, should 
 be the model for all the islanders of 
 property ; and the natural vivacity and 
 complaisance of his genuine French 
 soul, procured him the good opinion 
 and best wishes of Colin St. Clyde's 
 grandfather, who looked upon the 
 marriage of his daughter with Mon- 
 sieur B. R. Villejuive as the most om- 
 inous event in the family of the St. 
 Clydes. Such was the man who now 
 bent his whole soul to comfort a father 
 and a mother, who were consumed by 
 the purest sorrow, with which the 
 death of an only son could have in- 
 spired them. 
 
 But just at this time, Antony Le- 
 vingstone, whom the news of Colin St,
 
 ST. CLYDE. 237 
 
 Clyde's fate had filled with regrets and 
 sighs, seized the opportunity of the 
 Laird St. Clyde's grief to visit his fa- 
 mily. We will not say that Leving- 
 stone was an Adonis : he was handsome 
 and tall withal, and his manners were 
 finely elegant. His temper, naturally 
 good, had been rendered by classic 
 lore, of highly mellifluent tone. The 
 stores of knowledge he had gained, he 
 knew well how to impart -, and he was 
 blessed with the rare gift of communi- 
 cating knowledge even in chit-chat; 
 and without once appearing a pedant, 
 he might be compared to the genius 
 of intelligence. 
 
 Possessing these accomplishments, 
 it was impossible for him to visit any 
 company, especially the family of his 
 quondam cojidiscipulus, without striv- 
 ing to soothe the doleful brow of grief, 
 by giving the left-hand of its subject to
 
 238 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 forgetfulness and peace, and the right 
 hand to hope and joy. 
 
 Nor were his attentions lost on Norah 
 and Ellen ; and their cousins did feel 
 no jealousy. Affliction had given a 
 fine tone to Ellen's mind -, the turbulent 
 passions never entered her soul; for the 
 furies in their progress through the 
 earth on the night she was born, ob- 
 served that the lintel of her father's 
 door was stamped with the image of 
 peace ; and they passed on their way, 
 leaving the little innocent to be suckled 
 and nursed by virtue and charity : and 
 Ellen's heart now possessed that nice 
 flexibility which the driving gale gives 
 to the poplar. Her soft nature afflic- 
 tion had made mellow, and every kind- 
 ness of Levingstone had the impression 
 of a die on her delicate heart. 
 
 It was not love; the genius of lan- 
 guage had not been able to find a word
 
 ST. CLYDE. ^39 
 
 to denote the intercourse that passed be- 
 tween Ellen and Antony Levingstone ; 
 but their affections were entwined with 
 each other, before either thought there 
 was such a thing as a susceptible 
 heart ; and the longer they conversed, 
 the more numerous their interviews, 
 the more complicated became the 
 threads that bound them ; and it was 
 not love: Ellen's thoughts had never 
 strayed ; this tender lamb could not 
 cease to be afflicted by the loss of her 
 dutiful brother; Levingstone was the 
 friend of her dear brother ; and the 
 unaccountable death of that brother, 
 caused Antony Levingstone to be equal 
 to Colin St. Clyde. 
 
 Blood had implanted in Louis Ville- 
 juive and his brother, fraternal affec- 
 tion to Norah and Ellen ; the kindnesses 
 of humanity to a distressed sister had 
 made the name of brother carry a spell 
 to Ellen's bosom; and Levingstone,
 
 240 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 who came foot to foot with brother, 
 was not likely to be refused to have the 
 pleasure of doing this thing or that for 
 Ellen St. Clyde and her sister Norah. 
 
 The progress of affection is imper- 
 ceptible, but the accessions it gradu- 
 ally receives, swell into esteem, and 
 out of esteem grows that Cim^ sensitive 
 plant, which those skilled in a know- 
 ledge of our nobler passions call love. 
 Ellen, however, had not entered into so 
 refined an analysis of the ingredients 
 which were now amalgamating them- 
 selves in her ingenuous heart; nor in- 
 deed was it necessary, since those who 
 seek most for results from such causes, 
 too frequently resemble the dog and 
 his shadow. 
 
 ** There be perhaps who barren hearts avow. 
 Cold as the rocks on Tornea's hoary brow ; 
 There be, whose loveless wisdom never failed, 
 In self-adoring pride securely mailed ; 
 But triumph not, ye peace-enamoured few! 
 For you no fancy consecrates the scene. 
 Where rapture uttered vows, and wept between
 
 ST. CLYDE. 211 
 
 Tis yours unmoved to sever and to meet, 
 
 No pledge is sacred, and no home is sweet." 
 
 But in the midst of these ebbs and 
 flows of grief and sorrow, joy and peace, 
 which the company of Levingstone 
 and the Villejuives contributed to af- 
 ford at the laird's house, a letter ar- 
 rived to Antony, informing him, that 
 Augustus and his sister Eliza had come 
 to Kelvin, and it would very greatly 
 oblige and give pleasure to Mr. and 
 Mrs. Levingstone, if Norah and Ellen 
 would honour Kelvin with their pre- 
 sence for a month. Mrs. St. Clyde, for 
 a short time, would not give up her title 
 to the distressed society of her daugh- 
 ters; and Mrs. Thornhill, who had held 
 Ellen in her lap when this fair world 
 w^as to the babe but one short hour 
 long, said, '' there might be many real 
 friends to Colin, who would reckon it 
 their highest honour to have the com- 
 pany of Norah and Ellen ; but she was 
 
 VOL. I. M •
 
 ^4^ ST. CLYDE. 
 
 as sorry as any one of them, that the 
 misfortunes of St. Clyde's only son 
 should have furnished friends to bind, 
 with ties strong and powerful, the hearts 
 of her young friends, Norah and El- 
 len:" however, she never contradicted 
 her husband in any thing, and Mr. 
 Thornhill thought, with Mr. and Mrs. 
 St. Clyde, that the jaunt to Kelvin, and 
 the company of Jessie Levingstone and 
 Eliza Stuart, would greatly contribute 
 to restore the health of Norah and Ellen, 
 whick had been very materially im- 
 paired by the afflictions they had suf- 
 fered; it was agreed nem. con. that in 
 a few days Antony Levingstone, the 
 young Villejuives, and Norah and Ellen, 
 should set off for the mainland. 
 
 The dominie was loath " his disci- 
 ciples,** for this was the epithet used 
 to designate his scientific pupils, Norah 
 and Ellen, who had studied geography 
 with Mr. Maclean — well then, the
 
 ST. CLYDE. 243 
 
 (lotninie was loath his disciples should 
 ever leave the island, and their father's 
 house; but as it v^^as only for a short 
 time, he hoped the words of his fa- 
 vourite bard would not have their ful- 
 filment with him, till they returned: 
 
 " Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede pauper um tabcrnas 
 Regumque turres." 
 
 M S^
 
 244 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Versed In the woes and vanities of life. 
 
 He pitied man ; and much he pitied those 
 
 Whom falsely-smlhng Fate has cursed with means 
 
 To dissipate their days in quest of joy. 
 
 ** Our aim is happiness : 'tis yours, 'tis mine," 
 
 He said ; *' 'tis the pursuit of all that live ; 
 
 Yet few attain it. If 'twas e'er attained." 
 
 Armstrong. 
 
 In two days more, all the coaipany 
 going to Kelvin embarked on board 
 the packet-boat at Rothsay, for Dum- 
 barton or Kilpatrick. The wind was 
 fair: 
 
 '* Upon the gale she stooped her side. 
 And bounded o'er the swelling tide. 
 
 As she were dancing home; 
 The merry seamen laughed to see 
 Their gallant ship so lustily 
 
 Furrow the green sea foam." 
 *' Twas sweet to see these holy maids. 
 Like birds escaped to green wood shades.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 245 
 
 Their first flight from the cage^ 
 How timid and how curious too ! 
 For all to them was strange and new. 
 And all the common sights they view, 
 
 Their wonderment engage. 
 One at the rippling surge grew pale. 
 
 And would for terror pray ; 
 And one would still adjust her veil, 
 Disordered by the summer gale; 
 Perchance lest some more worldly eye 
 Her dedicated charms might spy; 
 Perchance, because such action graced 
 Her fair-turned arm and slender waist." 
 
 In four hours they got off Greenock, 
 and all of a sudden the wind shifting, 
 they had to put into Port Glasgow ; 
 from thence Levinsrstone and his friends 
 got a conveyance to Renfrew, and there 
 they crossed the river, and arrived at 
 Kelvin. The reception Mr. and Mrs. 
 Levingstone gave their visitors, was the 
 real welcome of a good family. Jessie 
 was deli2;hted to see Norah and Ellen . 
 but the interest their presence created 
 in the hearts of all, was what might natu- 
 rally have been expected. Mr. Leving- 
 stone received them as a father would
 
 246 ' ST. CLYDE. 
 
 his children from the wreck of the 
 storm; and Mrs. Levingstone evinced 
 her joy by a shower of tears; and Eliza 
 
 "Twice essayed, and twice in vainj 
 Her accents might no utterance gainj 
 Nought but imperfect murmurs slip 
 'Twixt her convulsed and quivering lip ,; 
 'Twixt each attempt all was so still. 
 You seemed to hear a distant rill — 
 
 'Twas ocean's swells and falls." 
 
 But that kind relief which almost 
 always comes to woman*s aid, came to 
 Eliza's, and she prefaced her welcome 
 in words with a stream of tears ; they 
 were Norah and Ellen, the maidens of 
 woe, the daughters of pity, who felt 
 the honours done them in these tender 
 shows of sympathy ; and it was reliev- 
 ing their load of suffering, to weep with 
 them; and to be pensive and sad in their 
 presence, seemed to be the necessary 
 consolations for these seasons of bitter- 
 ness and grief. 
 
 And though Mr. Levingstone was an 
 original character, he had studied the
 
 ST. CLYDE. 1247 
 
 human mind, and knew the consola- 
 tions necessary for every stage of misery 
 and suffering ; but he knew also that, 
 though 
 
 *' Peace may depart, and life and nature seem 
 A barren path, a wildness and a dream," 
 
 there were resources left to cheer the 
 drooping spirits, and bid Norah and 
 Ellen look forward to days of happi- 
 ness and bliss. Mr. Levingstone ex- 
 horted them to hope that this would 
 be the case : and the mind of Jessie 
 and Ellen exactly suited each other, 
 whilst Norah and Eliza were kindred 
 spirits : this then was the society which 
 had for its equal the parental roof of 
 the Laird St. Clyde. 
 
 The Villejuives adapted themselves 
 to the manners of the company and 
 the eccentricities of Mr. Levingstone, 
 with an adroitness scarcely credible in 
 youth : and Norah and Ellen derived 
 pleasure from the agreeable sensations
 
 248 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 the manners and conversations of their 
 cousins imparted to all around them. 
 As the relations of Ellen and Norah, 
 these young men were welcomed as 
 princes; and on the following day, when 
 a walk to the grotto was proposed, An- 
 tony Levingstone, as the friend, the 
 bosom-friend of Colin St. Clyde, offer- 
 ed Ellen his arm; and Eliza thought 
 she perceived Miss St. Clyde essay to 
 irradiate her face with a smile, or ra- 
 ther a blush of consent. Now, though 
 there was no jealousy in the mind of 
 Eliza, when the younger Villejuive of- 
 fered her his arm, she was very reserved; 
 but, willing to follow the example of 
 Ellen, she only rendered more visible 
 in her look the troubled workings of 
 her heart. The bitterest flower which 
 the garden of hope ever yielded, this 
 fair maiden had plucked; and in de- 
 spite of every charm for woe, she would 
 wear it opposite to her sad heart.
 
 ST. CLYDE. 249 
 
 But Mr. Levingstone was a man of 
 a warm temperament; and his guests 
 were never permitted to brood o'er the 
 ills of life, and conjure up ten thousand 
 idle visions which innocent gaiety 
 might dissipate like the morning^s mist 
 before the rising sun. Though turned 
 of fifty, he was sprightly, and could 
 turn the stream of conversation into 
 any channel he chose; and his present 
 company, from the flexibility of youth- 
 ful dispositions, were easily led along 
 with the torrent of his singularities, 
 good-sense, and hard-earned accounts 
 of foreign lands and Gallic manners, 
 whose descendants he condescended to 
 acknowledge, and partially to imitate. 
 The assiduities of his son were whol- 
 ly bent to Ellen — whether they arose 
 from long-tried friendship with her bro- 
 ther ; or whether they were intended 
 to bind up the wounds which her bro- 
 ther's fate had opened, and to apply 
 
 M 5
 
 9,50 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 all the opiates which the ingenuity of 
 friendship can devise to lull to repose 
 her griefs; or from that imprescriptible 
 law which moves to the same point two 
 different hearts. A month passed away 
 at Kelvin, and Eliza pursued with un- 
 discovered gaze the interrupted con- 
 verse, look, and gentle smile of Anto- 
 ny and Ellen. 
 
 The arrival of Norah and Ellen, and 
 the Villejuives, gave a new interest to 
 the walks of Augustus and Jessie to 
 Kelvin grotto. Eliza, who moaned in 
 secret the fate of her dear treasure 
 Colin, could find in the company of 
 her brother and Jessie, a pair of down 
 right smitten lovers -, and she therefore 
 chose, when the ramble to the grotto 
 was planned, to be particularly en- 
 gaged with Mrs. Levingstone, and this 
 good lady found there was a vacuum; 
 that Eliza was miserable ; that, thougli 
 company recalled her spirits, solitude
 
 ST. CLVDE* 2il 
 
 and reflection did not suffer her to es- 
 cape their abodes with a cheerful heart ; 
 and accordingly, Mrs. Levingstone was 
 always happy to find an opportunity 
 of drawing from Eliza the real cause of 
 her sorrow. 
 
 But this was a task not easily ef- 
 fected. 
 
 Eliza had been solicitous not to 
 do any thing contrary to the evident 
 wishes of her parents, but Colin she 
 had secretly loved ; her duty and affec- 
 tion divided her heart; her parents she 
 could not offend, without doing violence 
 to the ties of nature ; Colin she could 
 not cease to esteem, without doing vio- 
 lence to the impulses of her heart. He 
 was gone, perhaps now never to re- 
 turn, but he had carried Eliza's heart 
 with him ; and though the younger 
 Villejuive offered her attentions, . how 
 could she offer to another what herself 
 possessed not? It were hypocrisy to
 
 252 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 have affected to believe that she wb.s 
 disengaged, yet how to reply to the 
 solicitations of another, should another 
 ever seek her fair handj to say no to 
 him, whom hard necessity severed per- 
 haps only for a time, would be sinning 
 on the threshold of Hymen's joys. 
 
 It was in all, a difficult card this fair 
 damsel had to play ; but, if she followed 
 nature, nothing was easier. The half 
 of the conquest was conquering herself; 
 and this had long ago been done. In 
 fact, Colin was every thing to Eliza, 
 though to all appearance lost; and 
 without her, this world might not have 
 witnessed his ceaseless struggles, to ar- 
 rive at that happy day, when death 
 alone should sever the heart of his 
 Eliza from that of St. Clyde. 
 
 This then being the case, we need 
 not wonder that Eliza felt embarrassed 
 when Mrs. Levingstone questioned her 
 why she was always dull, when the
 
 ST. CLYDE. 253 
 
 other young people went out to walk ? 
 She did not know ; that is, she knew, 
 but she did not know that she might 
 tell the secret of her grief. She did not 
 know; that is, she wished none else 
 might know her plighted faith to Co- 
 lin. 
 
 Mrs. Levingstone was not a woman 
 of a curiously inquisitive mind, whose 
 temperament reserve would kindle into 
 a flame, and a disclosure warp into 
 devious intrigue, or turn to chilling 
 coldness; and hence, when she found 
 that Eliza was with cause sorrowful, 
 she endeavoured to solace her mind 
 by the consolations of Christianity, and 
 the resources of Mr. Levingstone's phi* 
 losophy. 
 
 Eliza's elegant form and beauteous 
 face, robed in pining love's sad sable 
 weeds, were now the living likeness of 
 hope ; for Levingstone questioned whe- 
 ther the sculptor had judiciously ban-
 
 2o4 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 died his chesel, in causing a gleam of 
 rapture to irraditate the countenance 
 of this statue; or whether there ought 
 not to be blended with this gleam of 
 rapture, with which he saw irradiated 
 the face of hope, a strong mixture of 
 doubt, of fear, and of irresolution, 
 powerfully indicating, that the heart 
 had not dismissed all its misgivings j 
 and this is the only picture Antonyms 
 ideas could form, from perceiving the 
 ebbs and flows, the indications of con* 
 fidence, of actual enjoyment, and the 
 fears or doubts of subsequent misery 
 which Eliza opened to his view ; and 
 such was the picture he would draw of 
 this fair lady's face; and whilst, on tip- 
 toe attitude, she seemed to scour a far- 
 extended plain with her firmest tread 
 of foot, there was a species of hesita- 
 tion arising, he would almost have sup- 
 posed, from partial short-sightedness or 
 the absence of day, that seemed to en-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 255 
 
 quire, if the prospect in advance were 
 not a dream, and if a precipice might 
 not be met with even where she least 
 expected to find one ; and he thought 
 her foot seemed to be partially glued 
 to the earth; for when it moved, it 
 moved almost mechanically: and this 
 was the picture of hope which Eliza 
 offered to Antony's view, if perchance 
 there dwelt hope in her tender breast. 
 
 As Ellen passed the house that skirt- 
 ed the rock, on the right hand side of 
 the gorge of the glen that led to Kel- 
 vin, she could not help envying the 
 little sun-burnt urchins that crawled in 
 the dust, and seemed to think they 
 looked the prettier for being all over 
 mud or clay. She, her sister, and the 
 Vlllejuives, were now returning again 
 to Bute. 
 
 And looking at her sister as she 
 walked in advance, leaning on the arm 
 of Louis,(though, by the way, this part-
 
 256 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 ner of her journey might only be seen m 
 the relation of cousin,) she suffered the 
 conclusion of her reflection on these 
 children to escape her lips. 
 
 But they passed over the frith to 
 Renfrew, and got a conveyance to the 
 Largs, from whence they crossed the 
 channel of the frith to their native isle. 
 
 They were met on the shore by the 
 dominie and the minister, who insisted 
 that, as the road by the manse was as 
 near home as through the muir, his 
 friends should go there with him. 
 
 The dominie immediately chuckled 
 up, took Ellen's arm, and put it into 
 his own, and swaggered forward, ask- 
 ing a thousand questions about his 
 good host and hostess, Mr. and Mrs, 
 Levingstone. 
 
 Now they are in sight of the manse. 
 The Manse I it was indeed the temple 
 of benevolence 1 Though built appa- 
 rently on an august eminence, it had
 
 ST. CLYDE. ^37 
 
 its foundations laid deep in truth and 
 justice, and on its portals were inscrib- 
 ed the following words of the angelic 
 band, — «' PEACE AND GOOD-WILL TO 
 
 Man 1" 
 
 " Go to ! thou tithe-pig rector, who 
 wouldst hesitate and be suspended in 
 thy resolution between a lovely Cypri- 
 an, or a duck and green peas, with a 
 bottle of claret, for thy supper; wouldst 
 thou wert like the priest of Bute,^' said 
 the dominie to himself, as he reflected, 
 on looking up the avenue at the manse. 
 
 But he broke out: ''Few of our plea- 
 sures come to us without alloy;" look- 
 ing Ellen in the face; "thank God, 
 child, you are once more on our native 
 isle. Liberty ! liberty ! is the child of 
 reason, the daughter of order, a plant 
 of celestial growth ! they who would 
 see it flourish and bring forth its fruit, 
 must not think it sufficient to let it 
 shoot in unrestrained licentiousness:
 
 258 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 humanity ! humanit}'^ does not consist 
 in a squeamish ear, nor in shrinking 
 and starting at tales of woe ; but in a 
 disposition of the heart to remedy the 
 evils they unfold : humanity belongs 
 rather to the mind than to the nerves ; 
 and if so, it should prompt men to 
 charitable exertion." And after a long 
 pause, he burst from his reflections 
 again, exclaiming, " Who, who, who 
 can hold a balance of gold in one hand, 
 and blood and crime in the other ?" 
 
 As it was npthing new for the domi- 
 nie to amuse his friends by his reveries 
 and wise saws, the minister paid little 
 attention to him. The apostrophe to the 
 rector, the dominie told in the smithy on 
 Saturday night, came into his mind, as 
 he lifted up his eyes, and saw the manse, 
 with the sign «« Peace and Good-will to 
 Man" upon its front. The exclamation 
 about liberty arose from Ellen's observ- 
 ing how much liberty of discussion the
 
 ST. CLYDE. 259 
 
 family of Mr. Levingstone enjoyed : 
 and the shrewd remark on humanity 
 was occasioned by Ellen's asking the 
 doaiinie, if he had not remarked when 
 at Kelvin, how comfortable the poor 
 people at the gorge of Kelvin glen 
 were, and how happy the children all 
 were. But it was impossible for any 
 of the company, though they all heard 
 file finishing speech of the dominie; to 
 make out its import. It was a task 
 none of the company felt competent 
 to: Norah wondered if the days of 
 prophecy had ceased; Louis Villejuive, 
 who was by her side, said, "he is always 
 moralizing or lecturing on his Horace 
 or Euclid."
 
 260 ST. CLYDE 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 ** When all the blandishments of life are gone. 
 The coward sneaks to death, the brave live on." 
 
 On the very morning that the Ville- 
 juives, and Norah and Ellen St. Clyde 
 were preparing to return home, Au- 
 gustus received a letter from his father^ 
 announcing that his mother was at the 
 point of death, though she had been 
 ill only two days. Alarmed by this 
 intelligence, Augustus and Eliza pre- 
 pared to go home with all possible 
 speed. The separation of Augustus 
 from his Jessie, (for she had learned to 
 call him by the name Augustus,) was 
 equally trying to both. Jessie grieved 
 at the sorrowful tidings, as child would 
 mourn for parent's sickness and death ;
 
 ST. CLYDE. 26'i 
 
 and she could not bid Augustus adieu, 
 without feeling that she parted from a 
 friend. Mrs. Stuart now died. 
 
 And Antony parted from Ellen, he 
 knew not why, with real sorrow. Look- 
 ing back on the past, he saw all the 
 way a rough and weary road; distance 
 beclouded his view of the remote scenes 
 in the picture, but the proximity of 
 dates between his seeing the fair Ellen, 
 and the doubtful end of her brother, 
 offered some of the most sickening 
 tints the landscape bore; and, looking 
 forward into futurity by the results he 
 had drawn from the past, he was pene- 
 trated with fear, — we will not say with 
 despair, but with listless grief and ach- 
 ing care ; and he could not help paus- 
 ing and saying, 
 
 *' Blood is warmer than the mountain stream ;" 
 
 applying it to Ellen's grief. Mr. Stuart's 
 family was inconsolable,andthe remains 
 of his wife had not been interred, when
 
 262 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 he received advices of the loss of tw» 
 ships that were returning from the Le- 
 vant richly laden. Unfortunately these 
 vessels were not insured; and the whole 
 being his own property, his affairs be- 
 came considerably embarrassed. The 
 loss of his wife was the greatest of loss- 
 es : the loss of the ships and their car- 
 goes might be retrieved; the loss of a 
 wife and a mother the gems of the 
 East could not make good. 
 
 Overwhelmed by the burden of his 
 afflictions, this good man, who had 
 firmly and honourably supported his' 
 character through forty years of busi- 
 ness, now sunk beneath the pressure 
 of his woes, and gave way to the most 
 dismal despair. Neither sons nor 
 daughters, nor the consolation of reli- 
 gion, could yield him any comfort. 
 He pined away his days in sorrow, 
 and the nights of his grief were not 
 brightened by owe single gleam of
 
 ST. CLYDE. 263 
 
 hope. Company fatigued, and busi- 
 ness irritated him. Bereft of his wife, 
 stripped of his property, pressed by 
 demands he could not answer with the 
 same faciUties he had once done, Mr. 
 Stuart became tired of the world ; 
 and tried to find, in the contemplation 
 of bidding it adieu, some salvo for the 
 doubts his mind started as to the pro- 
 priety of quitting existence when it 
 displeases one's taste. 
 
 He could not easily meet his de- 
 mands ; by the loss of these ships, and 
 a disappointment occasioned by returns 
 he expected not arriving from the West 
 Indies, he was confined for a day to his 
 bed. It was all a point of honour. 
 Sleep fled from his eyes. He arose on 
 the second day distracted. His head 
 ached ; it seemed to be twisted by op- 
 posite forces, part turning it to the 
 right and left, whilst contrary powers 
 seemed to warp its contents on a roller
 
 264 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 upwards, whilst the too strong force of 
 another instrument dragged his coun- 
 tenance downward. His eyes could 
 not steadily behold any object ; if he 
 looked at it, his head shook, and he 
 saw it not. To view with fixed atten- 
 tion the glass from which he shaved, 
 was beyond his power ; and the razor 
 passed over his face he knew not how, 
 but it broke not the skin of his neck ! 
 
 On the morning of the day at which, 
 if we had not been guilty of many very 
 gross digressions in the progress of our 
 details, this man arose dressed cleaner, 
 if possible, than usual, came down to 
 his library, arranged some matters that 
 could not be arranged but by the pre- 
 sence of his understanding ; went to 
 breakfast, which he ate with his eyes 
 swimming from side to side, seen by 
 all, yet looking upon none ; and his 
 very brain drawing down a scowl on 
 his eye-brows, as if in motion in his
 
 ST. CLYDE. 265 
 
 head. Indeed he sometimes fanciedjwhen 
 the acuteness of the phrensy closed his 
 eyehds, that the chords of nature would 
 snap, and relieve him from the thral- 
 dom of existence ; but the strength of 
 nature gained the victory, and after 
 suicide had striven for three days to 
 carry his soul in triumph to the infer- 
 nal regions, reason cried, " Every man 
 ought to be able to overcome the grief 
 and melancholy of his passions; there 
 is as much true courage in bearing with 
 firmness distress of mind, as the soldier 
 evinces in remaining firm under the 
 most destructive fire of a battery : to 
 give up one^s self to melancholy with- 
 out any effort to resist it, to kill one^s 
 self to avoid it, is to abandon the world 
 out of spite !" 
 
 Thus when distress and affliction 
 were filling his mind with horrors, 
 the influence of reason and a superior 
 philosophy, though they did not effec- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 ^66 ST. CLYPE. 
 
 tually dissipate the gloom, resisted the 
 infatuated counsel of suicide; and bade 
 Mr. Stuart " look on the poor man la- 
 bouring to support a haughty lord- 
 ling's pride, — the poor man ! who 
 would go on as long as nature was 
 prodigal of time, even though oppres- 
 sed by cares and sorrows, age and 
 want, two ill-matched pairs, unmindful 
 of his years 5 the poor man who, all 
 wretched and forlorn, would not leave 
 to countless ills a weeping wife and 
 helpless offspring, because remorse and 
 shame, and bold licentious self-will, 
 had armed his hand against himself, 
 with man's inhumanity to man." 
 
 Mr. Stuart still reasoned that if the 
 lily, as fair a flower as blooms in sunny 
 ray, stood till the blast sweeping over 
 the valley laid it prostrate in the clay; 
 if the wood-lark, the charmer of the 
 forest, told her little joys till some 
 pirate of the skies pounced on the hap-
 
 ST. CLYDE. 267 
 
 less bird as its prey ; man, whom 
 intelligence distinguished from tlie 
 flower of the field and the bird of the 
 air, ought not to bend nor snap in the 
 storm ; but resolutely hold out against 
 despondency, and that false shame, 
 which seeks to hide its head, and, like 
 the bloody coward midnight assassin, 
 crawls from this fair world to exhibit 
 honour in a land from whose bourne no 
 traveller hath yet returned, to inform 
 us with what applauses they were re- 
 ceived by Pluto's guard. 
 
 In the midst of his distress, Mr. 
 Stuart received a visit from IVIr. Le- 
 vingstone and the Laird St. Clyde* 
 The meeting of St. Clyde and Mr. 
 Stuart was that of real friends, of 
 kindred souls ; both brought very low in 
 spirits, and still lower in circumstances; 
 though they had only known each 
 other from the relation of their sons, 
 they were plain enough to go into the 
 N 2
 
 268 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 details of the situation of their families 
 with all a father's tenderness. Mr. 
 Stuart's poverty could not injure any 
 one ; he could still pay twenty shil- 
 lings in the pound, and have something 
 left for old age ; but his fortune was 
 gone from his children; and he had too 
 much of that commercial spirit which 
 disdains to sneak when driven to ex- 
 tremities ; and since his fortune had 
 been his own making, the loss of it by 
 unforeseen and irremediable calamity, 
 affected none but his own family. The 
 misfortunes of his house tied Augustus 
 the closer to every member of it; and 
 the gray hairs of his father going down 
 to the grave in partial poverty, he could 
 not look upon, without feeling arise in 
 his mind fresh arguments for acting 
 the part of a dutiful and respectful 
 son. 
 
 It was therefore whilst the Laird St. 
 Clyde and Mr. Levingstone were at
 
 ST. CLYDE. ^269 
 
 Edinburgh, that Augustus prepared to 
 go to India as a physician. He got 
 an appointment from the Company of 
 Merchants trading to the Eastern Ar- 
 chipelago ; and without so much as 
 going to bid Jessie adieu, he left Scot- 
 land, came to London, embarked for 
 India, and at last evinced that rea- 
 son had still the government of his 
 passions, and that his mind was still 
 superior to the impulses of mere animal 
 pleasures. 
 
 Mr. Levingstone and Laird St. Clyde, 
 after passing a month with Mr. Stuart, 
 returned to Kelvin ; and the laird staid 
 there a week, and then returned home. 
 
 But Mr. Stuart was really poor; he 
 had given up business, and had retired 
 on the wreck of his fortune to a small 
 house in the vicmity of the city: he 
 would not live in Edinburgh ; he had 
 known it from his youth ; he had held
 
 270 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 the first places of power and trust in 
 the city; his family had been brought 
 up in it in the first style of fashion and 
 literature. There, there was company 
 of that description which suited his de- 
 clining years and impaired resources: 
 but it was not the company of men of 
 desperate fortunes and names whom all 
 discredited; no, he knew that no place 
 in the island was fitted like the capital 
 of the north, for that select company 
 which makes life worth the living for,and 
 society worth the courting. The young 
 could meet the young in virtuous con- 
 fidence; the old could meet the old 
 without suspecting this man a knave; 
 that, a battered, hoary, rake; this a 
 gambler silverd o'er with age; that a 
 libertine at seventy, and emaciated by 
 voluptuousness. 
 
 When Mr. Levingstone returned, 
 Jessie was all inquiry about her dear
 
 ST. CLYDE. 271 
 
 friend Eliza: it was by asking ques- 
 tions about Eliza that an opportunity 
 of some slight aberration in discourse, 
 IM her to inquire how Augustus 
 went off; what spirits he was in ; 
 what prospects he had; and she 
 would fain have asked whether there 
 was not a letter to her from Ehza ; she 
 could not mention Augustus's name and 
 a letter together — that would be going 
 too far; her father might not like it; 
 her own good sense guarded her pas- 
 sion: indeed the whole of the inter- 
 views between her and Augustus re- 
 solved themselves into nothing more 
 than a voluntary exchange of soul; the 
 whole of their passion for each other 
 was confined to the proud and soaring 
 order of intellectual passions; there can 
 be no question they had stretched 
 perhaps the chord of imagination, in 
 the reciprocity of intellectual enjoy- 
 ment as far as they could; but that
 
 272 ST. CLYDE. 
 
 Being who fills all space, could not be- 
 hold in the conduct of Augustus and 
 Jessie, any dereliction of duty, honour, 
 and virtue. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 Priated by S. Hamilton, Wey bridge, S«rr«y.
 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 3 0112 041663615 
 
 HiiQi^^s^'i