virtuous and poetical nobleman of that title? The verses he left at Castle Frazer are sweetly turned.

*

I give you joy of having "the dark rider of the wave" for an inmate; he will make a frigate of the house, in which the BRAMIN will be midshipman, you first lieutenant, and your mother master and commander; he will be an animating acquisition. I think, brothers are the only possessions I ever envied any one. For more than twenty years, the sense of this desideratum was effaced; but now I feel it more than ever. How rich are you in these enviable relations ;-a mother that is sister and friend, as well as guide and monitress; and peace and leisure; and music and literature; and taste and health; and sense to set the just value on all these blessings; and sympathy to keep your feelings from hardening in prosperity. Look round now, and see if there is any other so happy. I leave you to the grateful contemplation of all these blessings. Adieu, Felicia!

I am sorry I mentioned Mr's eulogium of you; a consciousness of that kind is destructive of ease of intimacy, and it is agreeable to be on an easy footing with a rational man who expects nothing. Once more adieu,

A. G.

* Alluding to Miss Dunbar's brother, Captain D. of the Royal Navy, then on a visit to his home at Boath.

LETTER LXVII.

TO MISS DUNBAR, BOATH.

Laggan, October 15, 1802.

Once more, my dear Helen, give me your pity and your prayers, and then farewell for a while; your dear mother, whom I love and revere unseen, will give me hers. I am just setting out for England; I will anticipate no evils, but ask the Divine aid to frame my mind to something between hope and resignation, while I leave this group of orphans, loving and beloved as they are, to attend the sick-bed of one, whom absence and calamity have made best and dearest in my eyes for the present.* I cannot now narrate; but her recovery from a slow nervous fever is so dubious and unlikely, that Mrs. Protheroe, obliged to leave home by an urgent call of similar distress, wishes, before she sets out, to have one of Mary's relations from Scotland to attend her. I am the fittest to undertake this task; my anxiety would be doubled if either of her sisters went alone in stage-coaches at this season. Isabella is too timid and too delicate, and Catherine has an arduous charge of various concerns, and feels too strongly to act properly among strangers in such a trying emergency. I got your letter last

* The Author's eldest daughter, Mary, who had been for some months resident in the family of Mr. E. Protheroe, M.P. for Bristol, was seized with an alarming illness at this time, which induced her mother to go to England to attend her.

night; it would give me pleasure if anything could ; but my chief comfort just now is to recollect promises of Divine consolation and support from Him who will not afflict above measure.

"With the Patriarch's trust,

Thy call I follow to a land unknown.'

This passage of Young runs in my head like the prevalent idea in a delirium. I should bewilder you as well as myself by leading you into the howling wilderness through which my mind wanders. Only this, let not poor Anne* know of the impending cloud, or my departure. I am glad you and dear Mr. Mackay like her so well. Hers is the milder merit of the heart; but such a spotless heart, and a temper so unclouded. In the depth of despondency I sometimes lay hold of a ludicrous idea to play with; such is that of your house being turned to a frigate. Do not mistake me; I know your brother is no mer-man. Nautical skill, as a man of science, and the resolute manliness of his profession, are, in his case, I am told, blended with easy manners and an improved mind.

No longer whimsical or sportive, behold me a suppliant for a life dearer than my own, and shivering with fearful expectation. Adieu. May every blessing attend you.

* Then attending school at Nairn, near Boath.

A. G.

LETTER LXVIII.

TO MISS DUNBAR, BOATH.

My dear kind Helen,

Glasgow, Nov. 7, 1802.

Worn, as I am, by the pressure of many sorrows; divided, as I am, between necessary occupation and many visits of sympathy which I receive; can I go to England, and remain for a time in dread suspense so far from you, without bidding you farewell-without expressing my gratitude for all your kindness to Anne, so amply detailed, and so warmly commented on, by that paragon of grateful damsels? I hope this will find you in some degree recovered from the indisposition she lamented so much. Perhaps the time may arrive, after all these clouds are overblown, when I may, from the occurrences of my journey, and short stay in Edinburgh, furnish out an amusing detail; but now "chaos is come again," at least in my brain.

*

Since writing the above, I have witnessed a very impressive scene; it was the departure of a young lady who resided in my father's house for sometime past. Her father had been Chaplain to a settlement abroad, and left her in easier circumstances than generally happens to the children of Levi. She only meant to stay a few weeks at my father's, on her way to the north, where her friends live. There she was arrested by sickness, her lungs being in a decayed state before;

* Miss Kennedy.

*

and there she has been since June last, lingering a life that might well be called a protracted death; Catherine, in the meantime, doing all in the power of compassionate attention to alleviate her sufferings. At Edinburgh I heard that Mary was so much better that I needed not proceed. I gave up my intention, yet thought, as I was so near, I would see my parents, and arrange my Stirlingshire establishment. I wrote to Mary, that if she felt a wish for my coming, here I was, and there I would go. Now, while I sat in security, and, moreover, heard from Mrs. Protheroe that she was walking out, I began to breathe a little ; when another letter informed me that her frequent relapses, and the danger of her lungs, made it necessary for her to remove to the Hot Wells, near Bristol, unless she soon grew better. The agony it cost me to relinquish my intention of returning to the dear family I have left, is unspeakable; but it must be. I should have gone yesterday, but could not forsake this poor dying girl. Last night she expired, and O how forlorn and friendless! No creature to bestow a tear on her departure but ourselves. Why do I enlarge thus, or who can understand the state of my mind? Yet let me, in this wounding exigency, do justice to the unwearied kindness, the tender sympathy I receive. Who ever needed, who ever met with so much? All this is incoherence, but we must lay our account to suffer as well as enjoy with our friends; it is a proud pre-eminence, and worth buying at a high price, to be a friend. I entreat your worthy mother's prayers;

*The Author had made arrangements for removing, in the ensuing year, from Laggan to the neighbourhood of Stirling.