lege in November, she gave him a little packet which he was not to open till he got to his lodgings, and, when he got there, he found with a bursting heart that it contained all her wages! "His sad, pale countenance, perpetual diligence, and great talents and merits as a scholar, had not passed unnoticed by the professors; and when he went for his Greek ticket, the worthy man, with many complimentary and kind expressions, presented it to him gratis. Another-the professor of Logic, did the same. Still this generosity, and his utmost efforts and most rigid economy, could not save him from wants; the second winter was worse and severer than either; each preceding season becoming more and more grievous as his means and his strength and his spirit faded away. "So passed some dismal years of his novitiate, ere the time came when he could obtain a license to preach. And during that sad and dreary period, whether at home or at college, his labours and his anxieties increased. In his lodgings, by the light of a wretched lamp, he sat, hour after hour, toiling his over-wrought brains, grudging himself sleep and food, and even the foul and putrid oil by the smoky flame of which he was striving to write; for his thoughts constantly flew home, where, in imagination he saw the ceaseless labours of his dear and indulgent parents, and the wan faces and scanty meals and extinguished light of their once joyful fire-side. When at home, he wrote sermons, he wrote for magazines for reviews he attempted to teach here and there. His sermons were dead stock, his papers were ill received and worse paid, at the best, - and were oftener rejected than admitted. As for his plans of teaching, to whatever hand he turned, he still found his poverty the cause of his continuing poor; for in spite of all he could do, his small winnings never sufficed to furnish his wardrobe so as to enable him to dress permanently in a manner becoming his situation and views, because it always appeared to him that nothing he could win was his own, until he had replaced his parents and sisters and brothers in that state of comfort from which their liberality to him had thrust them. His teaching, therefore, was confined to those of the humblest rank, and even in this lowly task, his best feelings interposed to obstruct him. In his own parish, every scholar he could obtain must have been taken from the worthy, generous teacher, who had been his own early and liberal patron; and, by going to any neighbouring parish with the least prospect of success, he must have encountered a walk of six or seven miles, morning and evening, or else go into lodgings, the expense of which all his emoluments would not defray. Meek and retiring, he was easily rebuffed; and what in happier circumstances he would have received as a jest, he now shrunk from as a rebuke or repulse, on which he would ruminate until his mind was filled with images of despair. "At length, the eighth important session came, and as the period of his examination approached, these paroxysms of anxiety and desperation became more frequent and intense; and during his strenuous and almost incessant labours in preparation, which all but himself deemed nearly superfluous, his sleep forsook him, and he lost all inclination for food. He sat continually poring over his books and papers, and began to feel, with considerable alarm, that his mind wandered from the subjects of his study, and that he made no advance in his preparations. He doubled his efforts and increased the evil! He started to find he was often speaking to himself of he knew not what; and vainly tried to retrace his thoughts. Even while making the effort, his mind wandered again, and he was haunted by an undefinable dread, a horrible suspicion that he was becoming insane. "The period for his examination came and though his mind was in the most deplorable uproar, such was the high place he held in the good opinion and good will of every member of presbytery to whom his life and char acter were known, that he was passed without the slightest difficulty; his confused answers and bewildered air being imputed to the overwhelming diffidence so often the attendant on real merit and genius. "He was in arrears to his landlady, but she trusted one who was so sober and who had paid her hitherto; and in a somewhat more comfortable state of feeling he returned home. "He had now obtained the object of his own and his parents' ardent wishes. He quitted the university with the esteem and admiration of his teachers his license in his pocket, and complimented by the presbytery on his worth and talents. What did it all avail? Who would, who could employ a starving half-clothed lad, more like a mendicant than a minister of the gospel? His coat was threadbare, his linen in rags, every thing worn out. On his way home, as soon as he was clear of the city, he turned off the high road, and to save his shoes and stockings, took them off, and pursued his way over the trackless bills upon his naked feet! "But in spite of all his care, at last his wardrobe was worn out, and he blushed to ask any one to recommend him even as a tutor. Even if he did presume to do so, what family would receive him in that or any other capacity? Here then he must stay, an unceasing burden on his beloved parents, or his dear and generous sister; instead of being, as they had all so fondly anticipated, the comfort and support of those who had suffered and sacrificed so much for his sake! sufferings and sacrifices the thought of which continually lay like an icy hand upon his heart! "Such were the gloomy reveries to which he was a prey, when the widowed mother of an amiable young man of fortune, who had countenanced him at college, but who had lately died, sent him her departed son's complete wardrobe, accompanied by a letter so delicate and so gratifying to all his feelings, that the gift, so unexpected and so ample, melted, soothed, and refreshed his poor young withering heart like balm. Soon after this, a member of presbytery asked him to preach in his church on an approaching week-day, a request received with a mixture of pleasure and dread, which agitated his enfeebled frame to the most violent degree. The day came, still this diseased agitation continued. His whole family accompanied him to church. He expected, he wished this; yet it gave him pain, and added to his terror, he could not, even to himself, tell why. In a turmoil of emotion, he ascended the pulpit, and his reading of the first psalm was nearly inaudible. He inwardly lifted his heart to God, imploring, struggling, and hoping to obtain composure whilst it was sung; and when it ended, he rose to pray with somewhat less agitation. Still his ears rang, and green and blue clouds swam before his eyes-his luminous, dark eyes-which, with intensity of feeling he turned upwards, and clasped his hands in the attitude of adoration. During that moment of silent prayer, many present thought they had never seen a more beautiful or interesting youth. At that instant the congregation was startled by the loud crash of a broken window; and exactly as poor John Philips had opened his lips in a first effort to speak, a ball, flung by some unlucky boy, struck him on the face. It was all over. He feel back in the pulpit; and his miserable mother shrieked and fainted at the sight. The worthiest and most influential of those present crowded round him with tenderness and sympathy, but their kindest encouragements were all unavailing. They vainly urged him to proceed with the service; it was even doubtful if he heard them. The silver cord was broken the splendid intellect shattered and he fled homewards, followed by his enthusiastic mother and almost delirious sister- both under the influence of feelings which those, who have never been so circumstanced, are unfit to imagine. Oh, how unfit, then, are they to judge! "His poor parents saw with dismay the wanderings of his noble mind, and did their best to sooth and reconcile him to his situation, and to make him think lightly of the accident which had occurred. Whether they followed the best method can't be known. Sometimes the most wholesome management only feeds the disease; and, in his case, every accident, every chance occurrence increased the evil; and, in a few months, he was a hopeless, wandering madman! --- -- Such, my good friends," said Simon, after a little pause, and with a tremor in his voice, -"such was John Philips, the most dear, and valued, and admired friend that ever Simon Frazer possessed." Long before he had come to the end of his story, both husband and wife were fixed in breathless attention. When he stopped, the good woman covered her face with her apron and sobbed aloud. The man turned away and stood long mute at the door of his cottage. After a time, Simon hemmed away a choking in his breast, and then in a more cheerful voice, said, "Take my advice, my good friends, give each of your children the best education you can afford. Remember I say, each. Let your honest pride for ever keep this word in your memories. Oh, never, by pernicious efforts to raise one of them out of your own sphere, be tempted to stint the others, so as, in any way, to make them unfit companions for their brother. Do nothing to cause envy on the one part or superciliousness on the other, and so loosen the dear and holy family ties in a cold world like this, where we need never again expect to form any so tender and so true. Don't lay the foundation of lasting poverty and a hopeless struggle for the rest of your days, at the same time that you do injustice to children equally dear with him whom you would thus prefer. Think for a little, -even should you succeed in educating one of your sons, and suppose him set out in the best circumstances: say, that he is genteel, accomplished, and learned, that he is chosen as a tutor in some great man's family, that they love and respect him, that they promise him a church, and all things promise fair: How would you feel under the consciousness that you had placed this precious son in a sphere where you, aye, you, or his mother, a dearer name still, dare not even approach him, however much he may love and revere you both, without making his ears tingle, and his heart quail with dread that your relation to him should be discovered? Don't stare at this as a wonder, or think it would imply any disparagement either on you or on the heart or understanding of your son. It is this world where we live, - nay, my friends, it is human nature; and he must either be more or less than human creature in this nineteenth century, in this Great Britain, as it is in real life, who could without agony, bear that the parents whom, judging from himself, his patron's family may have very naturally concluded to be of the same rank as their son, should be produced before thoughtless children, scornful visiters, or insolent servants, as mere worthy hardworking cottagers. You have but to reflect upon this to feel all its painful truth. Nay, I well remember a most amiable youth, in such circumstances as I have supposed your son, who, on coming into the breakfast-room where the family were already assembled, and the letters and papers for the day on the table, found the whole party convulsed with laughter over a letter, a little, dirty, ill-folded letter, addressed in such a scrawl, and such spelling, as defied them to decipher. His entrance was hailed as the only one likely to translate the unknown characters with which it was covered, and his first glance at the post-mark showed it was from his excellent father. He nearly fainted, and his obstinate silence and mystery regarding this occurrence leading the family to suspect him of some low and improper connexion, he lost his place, and was well-nigh ruined for life. Therefore, my worthy friends, I again entreat you, give all your children the best education you can afford. Teach them, as the ground-work of all other teaching, the high and lofty principle of Christian faith and the love of God. Teach them industry from their earliest years, and impress upon their minds, that any kind of honest labour is better than idleness or dependence of any description. Encourage them to lay by a portion of all their little earnings to buy books, and always take the advice of your clergyman, or some other judicious friend, as to what books they should buy. When they are of a proper age to choose a trade, assist them to the utmost of your power in deciding upon their line of life, and do n't be anxious to place them in situations above their own rank. But always endeavour to instil into their young minds, to root and establish in their hearts the animating truth, that there is no trade, no profession, from which, in this blessed country, those who are diligent, upright, and aspiring, may not raise themselves to situations of the first respectability and importance." The father gave his hard hand to Simon with a most eloquent grasp, and his wife stammered through her tears, "Oh, Gude bless you! Gude be wi' you, worthy Simon. Ye've saved my son !" THE THREE COUSINS.. ONE sultry, gloomy night, we arrived late at a little inn, after a dark and most fatiguing journey; just in time to escape the fury of a thunder-plump, and thankful to lay ourselves to rest with all convenient speed. After a night of profound repose, Simon awoke me with "Up, my boy! up, and open your eyes on this beautiful corner of this beautiful and glorious world." I started up at the moment, and did indeed open my eyes on such a scene of loveliness as my fancy had never pictured,-Loch Lomond, with its many-coloured islands, glowing with the slanting rays of a bright autumnal morning sun. The heavy rain had cleared the atmosphere of all the smothering vapours of the preceding evening; and the new-washed sky and world looked so fresh and brilliant, that the heart must have been cold, cold and dead, which could look on it unmoved with feelings of adoration and love towards its divine Creator. The mixture of sublimity and of the softest loveliness is what, I think, particularly characterizes this enchanted Eden of land and water; and it seemed that the longer we remained, and the more we saw, the more our admiration increased. Simon indulged my love of such scenery by staying in the neighbourhood for a day or two, and by wandering with me to the many points of view, and the many nooks of fairy beauty with which his frequent visits to that part of the country had made him acquainted. Of old, I had many friends hereabouts," said he, with a sigh and a mournful voice, while he gazed sadly on a cottage perched on a steep green bank which descends with its rich grassy sward into the lake; "many friends; but they are gone! This is the country of the Macfarlans-yonder is their island. There lies many a gallant chief and faithful clansman of the days of other years; but the Macfarlans I knew were not chiefs; and chieftainry had got a deadly blow, in these lowland borders of the Highlands, before my day. But yon cottage, stuck as it were on a shelf in the steep side of Blerhaneck, and other cottages now mingled with the dust, were the dwellings of two brothers and a sister, with their families- all Macfarlans- some of whose children were very dear to me; and, in good hands, their humble history might be wrought into a tragic tale. "In that wild, lovely spot, three amiable cousins-german, Donald, John, and Jeanie, grew up from infancy together; the two boys somewhat older than their sweet little cousin, who was, therefore, the object of their united care and love. They were all the world to each other, having no compaions. Advancing years made no change, except that childish play was changed for useful labour, in which the attention and the assistance of both cousins were still devotedly paid to Jeanie, whom they equally loved, and who seemed to have equal love for them. But Jeanie's lovely face and lovely character were known to more young men than Donald and John; and all three were startled, as if one of the mountains had tumbled into the loch, when a rich Grahame of the neighbourhood asked Jeanie to be his wife. Probably this incident awoke all of them to a consciousness of the real state of their individual and relative feelings and situations. The bold, abrupt intruder was looked upon with amazement and terror, and by the two young men Jeanie's decision was waited for in agony of which you, my good fellow, have little conception, since you had cause to fear no rival. The bare idea of her accepting Grahame, seemed to wring the very life out of their hearts, and perhaps it was only then that each became aware of the excess of his own attachment. But Donald was the first to speak. He poured out his feelings to his faithful John, and John's lips quivered and grew white, and were from that moment closed. His face and neck became as red as blood; a deadly paleness followed, and then he grew very sick. Donald paused and exclaimed, 'John, you are ill.' But amiable John calmly and softly replied, 'It was but a sudden pain that struck me through, -maybe I staid owre lang in the loch to-day And recovering his composure, he continued to listen to his cousin. "Jeanie did not keep them long in this state. She quietly and decisively dismissed her rich admirer, and when Donald's rapture at the intelligence burst all former bounds, John discovered, that though this beautiful creature had the truest affection for both of her cousins, it was only Donald's love that she returned. Pious and meek, with a noble sense of honour and true love, from that moment he determined never to breathe one word respecting his own feelings to any mortal ear; or mar, by the knowledge of his affliction, the pure happiness of the two beings dearest to him on earth, and whose fates, in a few weeks from that time, were indissolubly united. "Three years of blissful peace had glided over their home, and Jeanie had brightened and deepened all their hopes and interests by making Donald the proud and grateful father of a wee sweet Jeanie, the miniature image of herself, forming a new epoch, a new existence, a new and tender link to knit them with intensity of love to each other. "But war was abroad. Britain was fighting with America. And far and wide the misery spread into many a Highland glen, and many a lonely hut, and along the beautiful shores of Loch Lomond, where widows, and orphans, and childless mothers mourned in vain. In that miserable, illfated contest, hundreds upon hundreds of the brave Highlanders perished; their regiments were reduced almost to skeletons, and demands for more men were made by the generals, on which occasion the young chief of Macfarlan offered to raise a company for the 71st regiment. Donald was young Macfarlan's foster-brother, and an idea that it was possible to remain behind when his chief went to war never crossed his imagination. To be with him, to be at his side in every situation of danger and difficulty, was not merely his duty, it was his right, his prized and envied privilege, which he would never relinquish, far less forfeit, but with his life. So that, in the minds of Donald and John, their following their chief to battle seemed as perfectly inevitable, as that where their own bodies went their heads would be also. To part with Jeanie was the agony, the rack that wrung from them the cold and clammy dew till it stood trembling on their brows. And Jeanie was no Spartan wife: gentle and mild,—she shuddered at broils and bloodshed, and peace was the desire of her heart. But her heart beat with the blood of Macfarlan, and she would never wreck a brave man's honour, or interpose a wish to detain him from his post. 'I go with you, Donald,' she said in a firm voice, though her lips and cheeks were cold and pale. What would Jean Macfarlan do at home, and her husband in war |