Above we give a view of Dunkeld House, || It was considered to be in the centre of old the former seat of the Duke of Athol-a Caledonia, and is now esteemed to be in the plain comfortable structure, endeared to many heart of the Highlands. Verbal description of the ancient Caledonians. About thirty can impart but a faint impression of the royears since, it was abandoned for an establish- mantic and exquisite scenery which here ment less pleasantly situated in its immediate every where banquets the eye. Upon the neighborhood, but on a far more magnificent hill descending to Dunkeld, the traveler, if scale. The park and grounds, which are he has a relish for the charms of nature, would very extensive, are richly adorned with trees be amply rewarded for the toil and labor of a of stately and graceful growth, by hill and long pilgrimage. I visited the Cathedral, dale, and lofty craggy rocks majestically ris- which is a noble Gothic pile, and throws over ing, thinly shaded with young firs. Along the town the interesting appearance of antithe river, (Tay,) and sometimes diverg-quity. The choir still remains, and is used ing from it, the most delightful walks are for worship. The chancel is now the burial cut through woods, shrubberies, and corn-ground. Upon one of the tombstones I read, fields. Here lies Roy Macdonald, and Eliza Flem

An intelligent and observing tourist, speaking, his wife.' I was informed that the wife ing of this locality says, "the pen and the continues her maiden name; and if a widow, pencil would fail in giving any adequate idea and several times married, she may, if she of Lock Tay, a superb expanse of water, fif-likes it, select the name of the husband she teen miles long and from one to two broad. loved best." Neat farms and country residences every where enliven the eye. The road winds through plantations of young beach and oak, The same pleasant author, speaking of his beneath the arches of whose branches the visit to Killin, says, "I had just mounted Jake is seen in a thousand points of varying my horse to quit this enchanting and romanbeauty. A prodigal luxuriance diffuses itself tic spot, when the bell of the church, which over the fields which line its verdant margin, stood close to the inn, began to toll, and imand high up the sides of the majestic moun-mediately afterwards a concourse of men aptains, which, whitened by many a waterfall, peared, moving with hasty steps to the churchare reflected in its mirror; whilst a small yard, which induced me to follow them. In island, thickly covered with trees, and supporting the ruins of a priory, the picturesque church-town, bridge and village of Kenmore, embellish its beautiful termination.

"The House of Dunkeld, or the Hill of Hazels, has been most justly celebrated by the poet, and formed the subject of the painter.

At

the middle of the throng I observed four men
bearing a coffin to the grave, into which, with
great decorum, but without ceremony, the
poor remains of mortality were lowered.
that very moment every one took off his blue
bonnet, and three of the group advanced to
the verge of the grave, where they remained

266

The Hermitess-Woman.

until it was filled up, in attitudes of manly and unaffected sorrow. A long roll of green turf was then brought upon a pole, unravelled, and neatly placed over the mound. So rapid was the interment that in about ten minutes, only here and there, a little scattered fresh mould distinguished this from the neighboring tombs. The funeral bell struck but a few strokes. No minister attended-no prayer was saidno anthem sung. The deceased was the daughter of an opulent farmer; and one of those who attended said, that the Highlands could not boast of a lassie more good or more bonny, and that she fell in the bloom of youth -yet no female mourner was there. Such were the features of this solemn scene. customed to see the dead interred with more

VOL. II.

To hold communion with my sister worms,
Who oft intrude to draw me from thy cell;
Oh, with what transport I again return!
'Tis thine sweet solitude to calm the soul,
And by reflecting on its errors past,
To fit it for its last and solemn change,
To where the weary soul shall be at rest,—
The rest they so much need,-and I am one,
I sigh for quiet more than hidden gold,
To occupy the little space aright,
That lies between me and the silent grave.
ELIZABETH.

1st month, 1839.

WOMAN:

Ac- Her influence on the moral condition of the
Community.

showy sorrow, at first, I must confess that I The intimate relation and mutual dependthought these Caledonian mountaineers desti-ence of man and woman, is fully declared in tute of that sensibility which the memory of the departed inspires in every other country. But a minute's reflection rescued them from this impression-by placing their religion before me, simple and unadorned as it is in all its offices, and by the marks of genuine, though silent, sorrow, which appeared in every countenance:-and I also recollected to have met in my way to Killin, at some miles distant, several of the figures which stood before me, who had assembled from distant villages to mingle in the sad procession. One of the group, after observing me for some time, advanced and courteously asked if I "came from London?" I answered in the affirmative. "That is the place I believe," said he "where the king tarries." I told him it was. "Ah!" replied he, "then you must be surprised to see the manner in which we have placed this corpse in the ground, for I have heard ye bury your dead there with more ceremony, but yet YE DO NOT FEEL MORE THAN WE.' fully agreed with the honest Highlander, who, after a few more words, bowed and withdrew. SIR JOHN CARR.

their creation. Woman being declared" bone of the bone and flesh of the flesh" of man, plainly establishes the determination of the Deity, that they are destined to be intimately associated, and to exert a mutual influence over each other, either for weal or woe. This point, I suppose, none at the present day are disposed to gainsay. The fact that woman's influence is much greater, and more efficient than man's, is, I think, beyond dispute. To establish this, we have to refer merely to facts in sacred and profane history. Eve's influence over our common father, in inducing him to eat of the forbidden fruit, "whose taste brought death into the world and all our woe," is an early instance of woman's power. The man, "beloved of God and approved," David even, the "man after God's own heart," experienced woman's powerful influence; but why multiply instances? Facts speak for themselves, and substantially maintain the Ipoint.

Written for the Ladies' Garland.

THE HERMITESS,

OR PLEASURES OF SOLITUDE.
Oh solitude! thou'rt now my place of rest,
A sweet and calm retreat-my feeble bark
Long toss'd, and shatter'd by the troubled waves,
And all that made life dear are pass'd away,
And left me lonely on the foamy sea.
How sweet it is to find the little Isle
Of solitude-and there sweet converse hold
With those unseen, not absent, as I trust,
For oft their gentle spirits hover round,
And sooth the loneliness that charms me now.
The world, with its commotion and its noise,
Is heard unheeded;-I would not resign
Thy joys, for all the pleasures earth can boast.
Yet if, perchance, I leave thy calm retreat,

The natural formation of woman, the delicacy, feebleness, and weakness of her physical construction, obviously manifest her dependence, declare man the protector and woman the protege, as is so beautifully represented by the delightful authoress: "Il faut pour que la nature et l'orde social se montrent dans toute leur beaute, que l'homme soit protecteur, et la femme protegee, mais que ce protecteur adore la foiblesse qu'il defend, et respecte la divinite sans pouvoir, qui, comme ses dieux Penates, porte bonheur a sa maison. Ici l'on diroit presque que les femmes sont le sultan, et les hommes le serail.

By the original fiat of the Creator, man possesses greater power of body and mind, and the weaker sex naturally regards her more robust companions as her protectors and support. The simple fact that she is the" weaker vessel," ensures to her that right of protection which her feebleness demands. She forms an important part of the integer of so

No. 11.

Woman.

267

ciety, and what a wise Providence has seen wounding where it is our duty to correct. fit to deny on the one part, is amply supplied Vices are no less so in the sight of Him, on another. He has granted to woman an "who trieth the reins, and knoweth the heart influence which man can never exert. The of the children of men," whether they be comrelation she bears to her children as a mother, mitted by the most noble, or the most insigthat innate sense of dependence which the||nificant. With Him there are no respectainfant of the earliest days manifests, the con- ble faults, no royal prerogatives of vice. stant hourly intercourse of mother and child, The latter consideration naturally leads me all afford her opportunities for securing an to that portion of my subject, to which I atinfluence which the father can never possess. tach much importance, and to which I am It is in the early state of society or in un-anxious to direct the attention of those who christianized lands only, that we see woman honor these remarks with a perusal. It is deprived of that influence which she possesses this. The influence of woman as it exists in naturally, and even there, it is felt to a greater the higher classes of society, over the moral or less degree. But, wherever the benign condition of men who are components of this and happy influences of Christianity exist, society. It is well known that however rewoman maintains a powerful, irresistible con-publican and equal any people are, there must trol over the interests of society and destinies and will be different circles among that peoof nations. The inherent possession of grace, softness, and delicacy of person; wit, sprightliness, and vivacity of mind; devotedness, ardor, and strength of attachments; of decision, promptness, and dignity of character; all, easily govern and direct man in the moral and social compact.

independence to condemn whatever we may disapprove as immoral and vicious-when we see those of known, notorious immorality, courted, respected, and complimented-we tremble to think of what may be the effect on the community. Who are the men to whom society looks for its comforts and pleasures? Who are the recherches, the distingues? Who are they to whom woman, lovely woman, extends her patronizing smile? Who are the companions which mothers seek and court for their daughters? I say, who are they? Are they not men of notoriously dissipated, vicious habits? Are they less respectable and courted on account of their habits? Let the fashionable gentleman, who can speak fluently of "Bulwer's last," of Boz, of Madam

ple-and it is another fact equally obvious, that whatever is patronized and encouraged by the higher class, will be imitated and adopted in the lower; the sanction which they give to vice, will find ready adoption in the more humble grade. Hence it is our design to attack vice in its high estate, to strike I intend no insipid compliment, no sense-at the evil at its root. When we look abroad less flattery to woman, when I accord to her and observe the awfully devastating and desthe importance and dignity of the situation tructive effect which respectable vice is proshe occupies in society. As a mother, she ducing, and when we see the servile dependforms in the same mould of her own charac-ence on popular favor, the miserable want of ter that of her tender babe, "when prattling at the knee," she instills those principles which modify and form their after characters and habits. She has in her own hands, as far as human agency dares presume, the immortal destiny of her offspring. Oh! how truly awful the responsibility of a mother! Is there one who can think of it, without constantly seeking guidance from that power who overrules all? As her offspring increases in years her influence is strengthening; in maturer years it is felt; in social intercourse communities feel it. Nations and national characters are formed by the influence which the mother exerted over her "prattling babe." It is of the influence of woman on the moral condition of the community, particularly, that I design to speak. As a daughter and a sister, she may maintain the happiest con- -'s playing; let him be of a fashionable trol over those who come in her circle, by coterie, either by right or by sufferance, her amiability, grace, and dignity of deport- either by virtue of his own right, or a mere ment; as a mother, she modifies the nature parvenu attache-any thing that is fashionand disposition of her children; as a wife, she able, and does not she, to whom he is the unconsciously moves and sways the pursuits deadliest enemy, readily, cheerfully, receive, and character of her husband; and as a mem- acknowledge-aye, and boast of his attenber of society, she encourages by her smiles, tions? On the other hand, in what esteem and forbids by her frown whatever is virtu- is that man held, who acquaints himself with ous or vicious. Such is woman as she should the History of Nations, instead of Bulwer, be, and as heaven destined her to be, but alas!||reads the Bible, instead of Boz, attends the very different from what she universally is. This is true and cannot be denied. When faults are as evident as the noon-day sun, we should not cloak or wink at them, for fear of

's singing, of Mr. or Mrs.

ordinances of the Sanctuary, instead of the Theatre? He is voted a bore, low, vulgar, ignorant; ah this "ignorance is bliss, and 'twere truly folly to be wise." There are

To Miss L. A. P.-The Crusades.

Under the city's walls were encamped the I deem it entirely superfluous to enter into army of the Cross. Companions in former an argument to sustain the truth of these po- battles, they had come determined to accomsitics. It is well nigh an axiom that "wo-plish their errand, or die in the attempt.man rules, that man obeys.”

1

house, now danced gaily to an Asiatic breeze. The emblem of an ancient line, it was not there to be dishonored; the cherished relic of past splendor, its fair blazonry was not their to be stained or sullied.

269

wild vortex af raging passions and unbridled licentiousness. Law and right were neither respected nor obeyed. The sword was the only passport to greatness, and opened the only path to fortune and to fame. Human life was held but as the sport of any petty tyrant who chose to take it, and the frequent death-cry of the murdered rolled wildly up to an offended God.

upon hers to wipe forever from the escutcheon of the Christian world, the deep and dark disgrace of allowing an unbelieving race to defile the land they loved, the sepulchre they a red. Then warring nations dropped their swords, and gave answer to the cry of vengeance. They came, the noble and the proud, the young and the old, rallying round the crimson standard. Unity of sentiment and community of interest have ever given birth to mutual kindness, and

Who would blame the enthusiasm which had thus led them forth to battle? Who can censure that piety which gave strength and sinew to their arms in the battle's shock, and was their last solace in the hour of danger Then came the Crusades. Glory, immorand of death? Yet, there are those who call tality, religion, all pointed with imploring finthe age of chivalry an age of folly-who de-ger to the scene of a Saviour's sufferings and nounce the crusades but as an act of madness.death. Fame called upon her votaries to batMadness and folly they may have been; un-tle till the death with Paynim hosts; Religion just they certainly were; but who of us, had he lived in that day, would not have also bound the sacred emblem to his shoulder, and followed the crusading host to the holy land? The enthusiasm of Amiens, the oratory of St. Bernard, and the commanding talents of Fulk, had successfully been used to spur them on for action. The commands of the papal prelate were imperative. Were not these enough to impel them to almost any deed?But the Saracen's insulting heel was on the very sepulchre of their Lord! The Turk's proud foot spurned the dust once pressed by the meek footsteps of Christ! Jerusalem was captive! Through her courts and palaces a So was it then; and Europe, purified and enMoslem strode in defiance, and reigned with-lightened from this and other causes flowing out rebuke. Were they Christians, and could they endure this? Were they knights, and could they brook it? Drawing the avenging steel, they swore never again to sheathe it, till their object was accomplished, or till the last drop of their life's blood had ceased to circle around those hearts which beat only for their honor and their God.

But why seek to excuse the Crusades by the motives which led to them! It is their consequences that gave them importance in history, and furnish ample apology for all their follies, if not for all their crimes. Apology!

"Sleep, Richard of the lion heart,

Sleep on, nor from thy cerements start,"

at the wrong done thy memory and thy name. But the age of chivalry has passed, like a bright vision of the morning.

If we contemplate for a mornent the dreary picture which the civilized world presented in the age of the Crusades, and compare it with the succeeding, we must allow that the political advantages resulting from them were such as Europe will never cease to feel, so long as her hills shall stand, or her name be known.

"All those courtesies that love to shoot

Round virtue's steps, the flow'rets of her fruit."

from it, woke from the lethargy which had so long bound her, and advanced rapidly toward that civilization and refinement which now ennoble and adorn her.

The effects of the Crusades upon literature, though not immediate, were no less salutary. Philosophers have moralized, scholars have wept, over the deplorable, the degrading ignorance of the tenth and eleventh centuries. Science slept. A death-like lethargy had come over her, which, like the sultry blast of an eastern noon, had palsied all her efforts, and withered all her energies. The spirit of poetry had long since fled. She seemed forever to have forsaken those haunts she once loved so well, till the Troubadours, catching up the lyre, then shattered by Time's careless hand, struck from its long mute strings those strains which roused nations to arms, and a world to madness. Never was music more magically eloquent. The lyre which thrilled beneath a Homer's touch, or the lapses of the cygnet song might have been sweeter; they could not have been more inspiring. AĬL Europe responded to the strains which swept over the land, and echoed through her old baronial halls.

Torn by intestine feuds, the western world Then commenced the restoration of letters was at that time the scene of the most bloody in the West. The Troubadour's lay was but and atrocious wars that ever disfigured the the prelude to the diviner strains of Boccaco, page of history. The order and beauty of the a Petrarch, and a Dante. Song again revived, social compact, like that of the ocean lashed and from the blushing vine hills of France, to fury by the raging tempest, was lost in thell from the castled crags of Scotland, from the