lock was rusted, and would not open. Then they began to pull down part of the wall; and Duncan thought how angry his master would be at this, and he raised his voice, and shouted, and hallooed to them, but to no purpose. Nobody seemed to hear him. At last the wall was taken down, and the coffin was lifted over, and just then the sun broke out, and glinted on a new-made grave; and as they were laying the coffin in it, it gave way, and disclosed Sir Murdoch himself in his dead clothes; and then the mist grew so thick, Duncan could see no more, and how to get home he knew not; but when he entered his own door, he was bathed in sweat, and white as that he could say was, that Dochart's burying.

any corpse; and all he had seen Castle

"The following day," continued the narrator, "he was more composed, and gave the account you have now heard; and three days after came the intelligence of my father's death. He had dropt down in a fit that very evening, when entertaining a large company in honour of his cousin's marriage; and that day week his funeral passed through Glenvalloch exactly as described by Duncan M'Crae, with all the particulars. The gates of the burying - ground could not be opened; part of the wall was taken down to admit the coffin, which received some injury, and gave way as they were placing it in the

grave.

Even the low country infidel was silenced by the solemnity of this story; and soon after the company dispersed, everyone panting to be the first to circulate the intelligence of Glenfern's death.

VOL. I.-14

But soon!-oh, how soon!" dies in human hearts the thought of death! Even the paltry detail which death creates, serves to detach our minds from the cause itself. So it was with the family of Glenfern. Their light did not "shine inward"; and after the first burst of sorrow, their ideas fastened with avidity on all the paraphernalia of affliction. Mr. Douglas, indeed, found much to do, and to direct to be done. The elder ladies began to calculate how many yards of broad hemming would be required, and to form a musterroll of the company; with this improvement, that it was to be ten times as numerous as the one that had assembled at the christening: while the young ones busied their imaginations as to the effect of new mournings. a luxury to them hitherto unknown. Mrs. Douglas and Mary were differently affected. Religion and reflection had taught the former the enviable lesson of possessing her soul in patience under every trial; and while she inwardly mourned the fate of the poor old man who had been thus suddenly snatched from the only world that ever had engaged his thoughts, her outward aspect was calm and serene. The impression made upon Mary's feelings was of a more powerful nature. She had witnessed suffering, and watched by sick-beds; but death, and death in so terrific a form, was new to her. She had been standing by her grandfather's chair-her head was bent to his, her hand rested upon his, when, by a momentary convulsion, she beheld the last dread change the living man transformed into the lifeless corpse. The countenance but now fraught with life and human thoughts, in the twinkling of an eye was covered with the shades of

death! It was in vain that Mary prayed, and reasoned, and strove against the feelings that had been thus powerfully excited. One object alone possessed her imagination the image of her grandfather dying-dead; his grim features-his ghastly visage his convulsive grasp were ever present, by day and by night. Her nervous system had received a shock too powerful for all the strength of her understanding to contend with. Mrs. Douglas sought, by every means, to soothe her feelings, and divert her attention; and flattered herself that a short time would allay the perturbation of her youthful emotions.

Five hundred persons, horse and foot, high and low, male and female, graced the obsequies of the Laird of Glenfern. Benenck was there in his new wig, and the autumnal leaves dropped on the coffin as it was borne slowly along the vale!

CHAPTER XXVII

"It is no diminution, but a recommendation of human nature, that, in some instances, passion gets the better of reason, and all that we can think, is impotent against half what we feel.”—Spectator.

"LIFE is a mingled yarn;" few of its afflictions but are accompanied with some alleviation— none of its blessings that do not bring some alloy. Like most other events, that long have formed the object of yearning and almost hopeless wishes, and on which have been built the fairest structure of human felicity, the arrival of the young heir of Glenfern produced a less extraordinary degree of happiness than had been anticipated. The melancholy event which had marked the first ceremonial of his life, had cast its gloom alike on all nearly connected with him; and when time had dispelled the clouds of recent mourning, and restored the mourners to their habitual train of thought and action, somewhat of the novelty, which had given him such lively interest in the hearts of the sisters, had subsided. The distressing conviction, too, more and more forced itself upon them, that their advice and assistance were likely to be wholly overlooked in the nurture of the infant mind, and management of the thriving frame of their little nephew. Their active energies therefore, driven back to the accustomed channels, after many

murmurs and severe struggles, again revolved in the same sphere as before. True they sighed and mourned for a time, but soon found occupation congenial to their nature in the little departments of life; dressing crape; reviving black silk; converting narrow hems into broad hems; and, in short, who so busy, who so important, as the ladies of Glenfern? As Madame de Staël, or de Something says, "they fulfilled their destinies." Their walk lay amongst threads and pickles; their sphere extended from the garret to the pantry; and often, as they sought to diverge from it, their instinct always led them to return to it, as the tract in which they were destined to move. There are creatures of the same sort in the male part of the creation, but it is foreign to my purpose to describe them at present. Neither are the trifling and insignificant of either sex to be treated with contempt, or looked upon as useless by those whom God has gifted with higher powers. In the arrangements of an all-wise Providence, there is nothing created in vain. Every link of the vast chain that embraces creation helps to hold together the various relations of life; and all is beautiful gradation, from the human vegetable to the glorious archangel.

If patient hope, if unexulting joy, and chastened anticipation, sanctifying a mother's love, could have secured her happiness, Mrs. Douglas would have found in the smiles of her infant, all the comfort her virtue deserved. But she still had to drink of that cup of sweet and bitter, which must bathe the lips of all who breathe the breath of life.

While the instinct of a parent's love warmed her heart, as she pressed her infant to her bosom,