3 10 639 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/bd3b3c6db8c4fd85e918eff53df46caf.jpg de342b26b8bc86c0452a2b1babff372b Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title page portraying Beehive with motto: Industry, Honesty, and Integrity https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f24f19d8ccfc0944f4cb9f032d8d0fa8.pdf ce5a8e41d30f0bb9c31e4efabf58c8f1 PDF Text Text FUN UPON FUN; OK, LEPER, THE IN TAILOR. TWO WITH PARTS: A SELECTION OF ENTERTAINING ANECDOTES. GLASGOW: PKINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS �THE MERRY TRICKS OF LEPER, THE TAILOR. LEPEK'S father lived in a village about six miles from Glasgow, and died when he was but very young; he left a widow and three children, two daughters and a son ; Leper being the youngest, was greatly idolized by his mother, who was a good soft-natured woman, very industrious, and followed -th|e bleaching of cloth;. As Leper grew up he grew a very mischievous boy, playing many tricks in the neighbourhood, such as tying cats to dogs tails, breaking hens' legs, stopping people's lums, or chimney-tops.; >so that his poor Another was sadly vexed with complaints against him. • \ To get him kept from mischief, she prevailed with;a tailor to take him as an apprentice; he settled and was very peaceable for some time, untillie got as much of his trade on his finger ends as he might pass for a journeyman, aild then he was indifferent whether he stayed with his master or Hot; his mistress gave him but very little meat when he wrought at home, so he liked �3 best to be in other houses, where he got meat and diversion. Leper being resolved on revenge against his mistress for her thin kail, no kitchen, and little bread; for though flesh was boiled in the pot, none was for poor Leper and his master* but a little bit on Sundays, and all the bones were kept and put in the pot, to make the broth through the week. Leper perceived* always when she took off the pot, she turned her back and took out the flesh, and set it on a shelf in her own bed-room ; one niglit, after work, he steals out a pan, cuts a piece of flesh out of a dead horse, and then goes to a lime kiln, and boils it; next day, his master being from home, his landlady and lie being in the house, after she had/ set the pot as usual, and taken out her bit of-good beef, he goes* out for some time and then comes in, saying, c the ministers lass is wishing to see you, to go directly and speak to her mistress/ Off she goes in all haste; Leper runs and takes away her bit of good meat, and lays down his horse flesh ; and knowing she would return in a passion, and sit down with a soss in her cushioned chair, as slie used, he takes a large pin and staps it straight through the,cushion, with its head on the chair?fand the point to Her b^clfside. So in she chines in a rage, and down she w- �4 sits with all her weight on the pin point ; and she roars out murder! murder! for she was sticket in the a—e ; the neighbours came running in. and Leper went out with his bit of good beef, leaving the wives to doctor his landlady's do up, as they pleased; hestill denied the doing of it, and his master believed it might happen accidentally, but the houdie was very oft to be had before it was got hale again ; and his landlady by eating of the horse beef took such a loathing at flesh, that Leper and his master got all the beef ever after, and his landlady turned one of the kindest mistresses a prentice could Wish for. There was a neighbour wTife on whom Leper used to play tricks sometimes, for which she came and complained to his master and had him severely beaten several times. Leper resolved to be revenged on her, so one night he came to the backside of the house (110 one being in but herself), and took up a big stone and runs along the rough wall with all his strength, which roared like thunder in the inside of the house, ami frighted the wife so that she thought the house was tumbling down about her ears, and she ran out and sat down at a distance, looking every minute when the house would fall down, till her husband came home and persuaded her to go in, to whom she told �the above story ; ' lio'ut tout, daft tapie/ said he, 4 the house will staftd these hundred years/ Leper knowing they were both in, comes and plays the same trick over again, which also frightened the good man so much that he cried out, ' run, Maggy, run, for my heart plays pitty patty/ And they would not lodge in the house any more, till the masons convinced them of its sufficiency. There was another neighbour who had a * snarling cur dog, which bit Leper's leg.. Leper resolved to be revenged on the clog, and so one night he catches the dog, and carries him to the kirk, where the rope of the bell hung on the outside, so with his garter lie tied the dog's fore foot to the rope, and left him hanging; the dog struggling to get free set the bell a ringing, which alarmed the whole village, every one cried out 'wonderful fire! wonderful fire! the devil is ringing the bell/ When they saw the black colley hanging at the rope, I trow it set the minister and all the people to their prayers: but Leper fearing he would be detected by his garter, came to the minister's side, and asked the reverend gentleman what was the matter; indeed, my bairn,' said he,' 'tis the deil ringing the kirk bell;' says Leper ' I'll go and see him, for I never saw the devil;' the minister cried stop the mad laddie, but Leper ran and losed the dog, crying 1 its �6 such a man's dog, which had the rope in its teeth i they all cried out, 'the deils i' the cur, the deil's i' the dog/ then took up stones and felled poor colley, and the devil got the blame of making the dog ring the bell This spread Leper's fame, for being one of the wisest and most courageous tailors that was in all the kingdom; and many shaking their heads, said, 'it was a pity he was a tailor, but a captain or a general of an army, as the devil could not fear him.'After this, a farmer in the neighbourhood hearing the fame of Leper, how he had frighted the deil frae being a bellman, sent for him to an alehouse, and drank with him very heartily, and told him he was sadly borne down by a spirit of jealousy against his wife; and a suspicion of her being too free with a servant lad he had before; and if he w^ould keep it a secret and learn him to find it out, he would give his mother a load of meal, to which Leper agreed; so he gave the poor supposed cuckold instructions how to behave.. So home he goes and feigns himself very sick, and every day worse and worse, taking death to him ; blesses his three small children, and charges his wife not to marry until his children could do something for themselves; this hypocritical woman takes a crying, ' Aha! marry,'she would never marry! ' no, no, there should never a man lie by �7 my side, or kiss my Hps after thee r my am dear lamb Johnny.' Then he acts .the. dead man as well as he possibly could? [pta neighbours were called in, and he'sjfajrly o'erseen, as the old saying is, befp^e^^^n^ig^if bours. The sorrowful widow.. am^e ^fidlament, wrung her hands and'tpfQ her Imir. The reverend women about began to dross the corpse, askcc|>her for a shirt. • ^ y , ay,' said she, ' he has twa new linen ^arks, and there is an auld ane in the bottom o' the. kist, that naebody can wear ; ony thing7a good enough for the grave;' ' well/ said they, ' we must have some linen for,a winding sheet; 'aweel,' quo' she, ' I ha'e twa cut o' linen i' the Ifist neuk> but there's a pair o' auld linen sheets, hol'd i' the middle, may do well enough, I had need to be qarefu', I'm a poor widow the day, wi' three sma' bairns.' Well, the corpse is dressed and laid on the tap of the big chest, while neighbours sat by her condoling her paisfortune, and how the funeral raisins were t;o be provided. Said one, 'the coffin must need be se$n abput first.' 'Ay, ay, he has some new fljeals in the barn ; he bought them to make a bed o ; but we'll no break them, there's thq auld barn door, and the caff kist will do well enough, ony thing's gude enough, to gang to the grave wi'; but 0,' quo' she, 'send for �8 Sandy, my honest auld servant, and hell see every thing right done ; 111 tell him where hell get siller to do anything wi'; he's the lad that will not see me wrang'd.' Then Sandy comes wrying his face, and rubbing his eyes. ' 0 , Sandy, there's a sad alteration here,' and ba-a, she cries like a bitten calf, ' 0 sirs, will ye gang a' butt the house till I tell ye what to do.' Butt they went, and there she fell a kissing of Sandy, and said, ' now, my dear, the auld chattering ghaist is awa and we'll get our will o' ither; be as haining of everything as ye can, for thou kens it's a' thy ain ;' but the corpse' sister and some other people coming in, ben they came to see the corpse, lifts up the cloth off his face, and seeing him all in a pour of sweat, said, ' heigh, he's a bonny corp, and a lively like colour.' When he could no longer contain himself to carry on the joke, up he got among them. A deal of people ran for it, and his wife cried out " 0 , my dear, do you ken me?' ' Ay, you base jade and whore, better than ever I did.' Jumps on the floor, gets his staff and runs after Sandy, and catches him in the fields, a little from the house ; and ate and drank with his sister and neighbours who came to see his corpse. Poor Sandy w^ent home with a skin full of terror, and a sorting of sore bones, took a sore fever, and died a few �9 days after ; so he got quit of his cockolder, and Leper's mother got her load of meal. Leper's mother was a careful industrious wife, but as the bye-word is, ' a working mother makes a dally daughter,' and so it happened here, for she had two glaikit sluts of daughters that would do nothing but lie in their bed in the morning, till, as the saying is, ' the sun was like to burn a hole in their backsides.' The old woman, who was bleaching some cloth, was very early at work in the mornings, and Leper s patience being worn out with the laziness of his two sisters, he resolved to play a trick 011 them, for their reformation, so he goes and gets a mortcloth, and spread it on the bed above them, and sends the dead bell through the town, inviting the people next day, at four o'clock afternoon, to the burial of his two sisters, for they had died suddenly. This brought all the neighbouring wives in, who O © O R one after another lifted up the mortcloth, and said, with a sigh, f they've gone to their rest; a sudden call indeed!' Their aunt" hearing of this sudden news, came running in all haste, and coming where the jades' mither was at work, and was ignorant of the story, she cries out, ( Fye upon ye, woman, fye upon ye!' ' What's the matter, sister,' says she, ' what's the matter ?' ' I think you might let your wark stand for a'e day, when �10 your daughters are baith lying corpse/ 'My bairns corpse! I am certain they went to bed hale and fair last night/ 4 But, I tell you/ said the other, 'the dead bell has been thro' warning tho folks to the burial/ then the mother cries out, ' 0 the villain! 0 the villain, that he did not send me word/ So they both ran, and the mother as soon as she entered the house, flies, to the bed, crying, ' 0 , my bairn0, my dear bairns / on which the sluts rose'up in a consternation, to the great surprise, of the beholders, and the great mortification of the girls, who thought shame to set their noses out of doors, and to the great diversion of the whole town. Leper and his'master went to a gentleman's. house to work, where there was a saucy houserkeeper, who had more ignorance and pride than good sense and manners; she domineered over her fellow servants in a tyrannical manner. Leper resolved to mortify her pride; so. he finds an ant's nest, and takes their white eggs, grinds them to a powder, ancl puts them into the dish her supper so wen s was to be put in. After she had taken her supper, as she was covering the table, the imno6k powder began to operate, and she let a great f—. ' Well done, Margaret, said the Laird, your a— would take a cautioner/ Before she got out of the �11 eh amber door slie let fly another crack; then she goes to order her fellow servant to give the: Laird hi& stippieiy but before she could give t.he necessary directions, she gave fire again, which ;set them all a laughing; she runs into a room herself, and there she played away her one gun battery so fast that you wotildhave thought she had been beseigittg the Savannah. The Laird and Lady came to hear the fun, they were like to split their sides at proud Maggy. So next morniiVg she left her place, to the great satisfaction of all her fellow servants. PART II. L E P E R ' S landlady became very harsh to his master, and very often abused him exceedingly sore with. her tongue and hands, and always called upon him for more money, and to have all the money in her keeping, which Leper was sorry for. It so happened on a day that the tailor had got a hearty drubbing, both with tongue and tongs, that he pouched his thimble and was going to make a queen of her. When she saw that, she cried out, 'Of will you leave'a poor tender dying woman/ But Leper knowing the cause of her ill nature better than his �12 master did, advised him to take her on a fine day, like a mile out of town and give her a walk, and he would stay at home and study a remedy for her disorder. Away they both go ; but as she was also complaining for want of health, and that she was very weak, she cried out frequently, ' 0 ! 'tis a crying sin to take a woman in my condition out o'er a door.' During their absence, Leper goes and searches the bed, and below the bolster gets a bottle of rare whisky, of which he takes a hearty pull, and then pisses in it to make it up ; gets a halfpenny worth of snuff, and puts it in also, shakes all together, and so sets it in its place again. Home they came, and she was exceedingly distressed as a woman could be, and cried out, it was a horrid thing to take her out of the house. The tailor seeing her so bad, thought she would have died, ran as fast as he could for a dram, but she in her hypocrisy pretended she could not take it, and called on him to help her to bed, into which he lays her. She was not well gone when she fell to her bottle, taking two or three hearty gluts ; then she roars out, 1 Murder, I'm poisoned, I'm poisoned.' Bocking and purging began, and the neighbours were called in ; she lays her blood upon poor Leper, and tells how snich an honest woman brought her a'e bottle as another was done, �and the murdering loon had stolen it and put in a bottle of poison instead of it. Leper took to his heels, but was pursued and carried before a Justice of the Peace, where he told all he had done, which made the J ustice laugh heartily at the joke; and the tailors wife was well purged from her feigned sickness, laziness, and cursed ill nature; for always when she began to curl her nose for the future, the tailor had no more to say, but ' Maggy mind the bottle/ Leper was working with a master-tailor in Glasgow, who hungered his men ; and one morning, just when breakfast was set on the table, in comes a gentleman to try on a suit of clothes. The master being obliged to rise, desired the lads to say the grace themselves. Every one refused it, and put it to his neighbour, till Leper undertook it, and said with an audible voice, that the stranger gentleman might overhear him, as follows:— 'Ocli, hoch! we are a parcel of poor beastly bodies, and we are as beastly minded; if we do not work we get nothing to eat; yet we are always eating and always fretting; singing and half starving is like to be our fortune ; scartings and scrapings are the most of our mouthfuls. We would fain thank Thee, for our benefactors are not worthy the acknowledging ;—hey. Amen/ The gentleman �14 laughed till his sides were like to bursty and gave Leper half-a-crown to drink. Leper was not long done with his apprenticeship till he set up for himself, and got a journeyman and an apprentice, was coming into very good business, and had he restrained his roguish tricks, he might have done very well. He and his lads being employed to work in a farmer's house, where the housewife was a great miser, and not very cle&hly in making meat, and snivelled through her nose greatly when she spoke. In the morning, when she went to make the potage, she made a fashion of washing the pot, which to appearance seemed to him to have been among the first that had been made; then sets it before the fire till she went to the well, in which time Leper looking into it, sees two great-holes etapped with clouts, he takes up his goose* and holds it as high as his head, then lets it drop into the pot, which knocked oiit the bottom of it. Presently in comes the wife with the water, and pours it into the pot, which set the fireside all in a dam. for still as she poured in, it ran out: the wife being short-sighted, or what they call sand blind, looks into the pot, holds up both her hands and cries, ' Losh, preserve me, sirs, for the grip atween the twa holes is broken.* Says Leper, * the pot was old enough; but do you �15 not ken that tailof's potage is heavier than other men's.' ' Indeed, lad, I believe it, but they say ye're a warlock ; it's Wednesday to me indeed, my pot might ha'e served me this fifty year, a sae wad it e'en.' This sport diverted Leper and his lads through the day, and after supper, knowing he was to get some dirty bed, as the cows and the people lived all in one apartment, he chose rather to go home; and knowing the moon was to rise a little after midnight, he sat by the fire, told them many a fine story to drive away the time, and bade the wife make the bed to see how it might be. To save candle she made it in the dark, just on the floor behind where they sat, shaking down two bottles of straw. A calf which chanced to be lying on that place, and which the wife did not notice, was covered with the straw, and the bed clothes spread over it. The most of the family being in bed, the wife told them to go to bed also, but Leper knowing of the calf, said, ' I'll make my bed come to me,' on which the wife began to pray for herself and all that was in the house ; so up he gets his ellwand, and gives a stroke on the bed which caused the brute to rise, and not seeing where to go, it fell a crying and turned round, which set the whole house a roaring out murder in their own tongue. �16 The gooclwife ran to bed above the goodman, and the whole family cried out, not knowing what it was; but Leper and his two lads whipt off the blankets, and the brute ran in among the rest unperceived; then Leper lighted a candle, and all of them got out of bed, paid Leper for his work, and more if he pleased, and begged him to go away, and take the devil with him. So home he went, but never was employed by that wife any more. Leper had a peal of the best customers both in town and country; so one time he had occasion to go to the parish of Inchinan, to make a wedding suit for a gentleman. After they were finished, he desired drink money for his lads, which the gentleman refused. Leper resolved to be even with him, so he goes to the hay loft where the groom slept, and takes his stockings, breeches, and jacket, sewed them together, and stuffs them full of hay; makes a head, puts a rope about the neck, and hangs it on a tree, opposite to the laird's window ; then goes to the laird and tells him that his groom had hanged himself, and that if he would open his window he would see him hanging; the laird was struck with astonishment, and knew not what to do; Leper advises him to bury him privately. The laird said he had not a servant he �17 could trust, so begged Leper to do it. Leper refuses, till the laird promises him a load of meal; then Leper pulls out all the hay out of the groom's clothes ; goes and gets his load of meal, and sendirit to Glasgow; then goes to the groom, and says, 4 Thy master is wanting thee/ So the lad in all haste runs to see what his master wanted. The laird no sooner saw him open the door than he cried out, 'Avoid thee, Satan; avoid thee, Satan!' The lad says, ' What's the matter?' 'Did you not hang yourself this morning?' ' Lord forbid!' said the lad. The laird says, ' If thou be an earthly creature, take that tankard and drink;' which he did. Then says he to his master, ' Leper called me up, and said you wanted me in all haste/ ' Ho, ho/ said the laird, ' I find out the story now; if I had Leper, I would run my sword through him/ But Leper before that was gone to Glasgow with his meal. Leper was in use to give his lads their Sunday's supper, which obliged him to stay from the kirk in the afternoon, he having neither wife nor servant maid; so one Sunday afternoon, as he was cooking his pot, John Mueklecheek, and James Puff-andblaw, two civileers, having more zeal than knowledge, came upon him, and said, ' What's the matter5 sir, you go not to the �-—A^HFEI 18 kirk? Leper replied, ' I ' m reading my book and cooking my pot, which I think is a work of necessity/ Then says the one to the other, ' Don't answer that graceless fellow; well make him appear before his betters/ So they took the kail pot, and puts a staff through the bools, and bears it to the Clerk's chamber. Leper, who was never at a loss for invention, goes to the Principal of the College's house, no body being at home but a lass roasting a leg of mutton. Leper says, ' My dear, will you go and bring me a drink of ale, and I'll turn the spit till you come back/ The lass was no sooner gone than he runs away with the. leg of mutton, wdiich served his lads and him for their supper. When the Principal came home, he was neither to hand nor to bind, he viras so angry ; so on Monday he goes and makes a complaint to the Lord Provost, who sends two officers for Leper, who came immediately. My Lord asked hitn how lie dared to take away the Principal's mutton. Leper replied, ' How dared your civileers to take away my kail: pot ?. I'm sure there is less sin in making a pot full of kail, , than roasting a leg of mutton; law makers should not be law breakers, so I demand justice on the civileers.' The Provost askbdr him what justice he would have. Says he, �19 * make them cai;ry the pot back again; and to the Principal, a leg of mutton will not make him and me fall out.' So they were forced to carry the pot back again ; and Leper caused the boys to huzza after them to their disgrace. ? There was a barber who always plagued Leper, and called him ' Prick-the-louse/ Leper resolved to be even writh him, so he goes and buys three sheep heads, £ind sends for the barber, and told him that there were three fine Southland gentlemen just come to his house, which much wanted to be shaved ; and he assured him he would receive sixpence for each of them. This good news made the shaver send for a dram. Leper was still praising them for quiet good natured gentlemen. So Leper takes him to the bed where the sheep heads lay covered, and desired him to awaken them for they would not be angry; or say an ill word to him. The barber lifts the covering and sees the sheep heads, runs out cursing and swearing, and Leper crying after him, ' Sheep head barber/ The barber resolved to be revenged on Leper, so when he -was shaving Mess John, he tells him "that Leper was the drunkeftest fellow in the parish. So Mess John w:arns him to the session. Leper comes and says, ' What do you want with me, Sir ? 6 Come �- NTH X NQ F . So away, Leper/ says Mess John, 6 1 hear a bad report of yon/ * Me Sir, I am sure they were not my'frieiids that told you that/ 'Indeed, I am informed you are a drunkard/ 4 1 a drunkard ; you have not a soberer man in your parish. Stop, Sir, I will tell you how I lead my life:—In the morning, I take a choppin of ale and a bit of bread, that I call my morning ; for breakfast, I generally take a herring and a choppin of ale, for I cannot sup brose like my lads ; the herring makes me dry, so at eleven hours I take a pint, and sometimes three choppins; at supper, I take a bit of bread and cheese and a pint, and so go to bed/ Mess John says, ' It's excessive drinking ; I allow you one half of it for a quarter of a year/ Says Leper, ' 111 try it, Sir, and come back and tell you/ At the end of the quarter he draws out his account, and goes to Mess John, who was sitting with his elders in the Session-house, and says, ' Sir, I have a demand on you/ 1 On me, Sir/ 4 Yes, on you, Sir ; don't you remember you allowed me so much drink for a quarter of a year, and I want the money/ 4 Am I to pay your reckoning, Sir/ ' You allowed it, and if you wont pay it, 111 take you before the Provost/ The elders advised him to pay it or he would be affronted; so Leper got the �21 money. When he was at the door, he says, 4 Sir, will you stand another quarter.' 4 Get away, says Mess John, and don't trouble me.' Leper says, ' I am sure you may, for I am always twopence to your penny.' THE END. A N E C D O T E S . INCONVENIENCE OF A PETITION. A reverend Gentleman, when visiting his parishioners, was in one house first saluted with the growling of a dog, and afterwards by the cheering voice of a female. D—ning the dog for his ill-bi*eeding, he advanced and enquired for the master of the house. c What do ye want wi' that?' said the female. 4 W e are wishing to see him,' said the Reverend Gentleman, 'will ye be so good as bring him to us ?' • I'll gang nae sic an errand,' said she; ' ye may gang doon to the market yersel', an' ye'll see him there; they're thrang killin' the day. But what are ye wantin' wi' Pate, if a body micht speir.' ' This is the minister,' said the elder who accompanied him, 4 he is wishing to have some conversation with Peter, and to put up a petition.' 4 A petition! a petition!' exclaimed the matron, 4 ye'll put up nae patition here; the house �22 is wee eneugh already, an' wha do ye think's gaunjto be fashed wi' masons an* wrightS, an' a' thae elanjamfray about their house? Faith no—the devil a petition will be putten up in this house as lang's am in't; we're gaun to flit at Whitsunday, so ye may come then an' put up as mony petitions as ye like/ DUKE OF BUCCLEUCH. Henry, Duke of Buccleueh was greatly beloved by his numerous tenantry. One of his small tenants, Jamie Howie by name, had a son about four years of age, who, having heard much of the great Duke of Buccleuch, was very anxious to see him. Honest Jamie, in a few days, was honoured with a visit from the Duke; when Jamie doffing his bonnet, and making a reverential bow, says, 4 0 , my lord! ye maunna be angry wi' me, but it's God's truth, my lord, there's a daft wee callant o' mine that canna rest, nor let others rest, nicht nor d a y ; he has ta'en in his head sic a notion o' seeing what like ye are ; gudesakc; my lord, I dinna think he has ony y edea ye are a man at a', but some far awa, outlandish, ower sea creature.' The Duke, mightily tickled with this fancy, desired Jamie to bring the youngster into his presence forthwith. Out comes the juvenile �23 inquisitor with his finger in f his mouth, and cautiously recqnnoitres the personage before . Mmi ; A t last quoth the urchin, ' G m y& soorn,?' ' N o , my little fellow/' replied his grace, ' I canna sootn/ ' Can ye flee?' ' No, I canna flee/ 1 Weel, man, for as muckle's ye're, I wadna gie ane o' my father's dukes for ye, for they can baith soom an flee/ A BAMS' TO PIKE. Some boys diverting themselves in one of the streets of Edinburgh, observed on a door, a brass plate with A1—-x>—rid—r Guthrie, W.S., engraved on it. In their diversion, they broke a pane of glass in one of the windows, upon which Mrs. Guthrie and the maid sallied forth and seized one of the delinquents. ' Y e young rascal, what's yer name?'-says the lady. ' Saundy/ replied the boy. ' What's yer ither name? ; J Guthrie/ < Wha's yer mither?' < My mither sells bird's cages/ ' Whaur does she live? '' I' the Patter R a w / 4 Wha's yer father?' ' I dinna ken/' c D o ye no ken yer faither?' 4 Na! he.ne'er comes but whan it's dark, an' naebody kens bit my mither.' Upon hearing this, the lady in a passion let gb 'her victim, and running into the room where her husband was sitsing, fell a-scolding him like a fury about �24 his infidelity rogue laughed his fraud, and said to them, bane to pike!' towards her. The young heartily at the success of turning to his companions, ' I think I've gi'en her a SEEING- ONE DRUNK. The late Rev. Mr. C of D , Aberdeenshire, was fond of his friend and a bottle; he sacrificed so often and so freely to the jolly god, that the presbytery could 110 longer overlook such proceedings, and summoned him before them to answer for his conduct. One of the elders, and constant companion in his social hours, was cited as a witness against him. ' Well, John (says one of the presbytery to the elder), did you ever see the Eev. Mr. C the worse of drink ?' ' Weel a wy te, n o ; I've mony a time seen him the better o ; t, but I ne'er saw him the waur o't.' ' But, did you never see him drunk?' ' That's what I'll ne'er see, for before he be half slockened, I'm aye blind fu'/ § FINIS. § � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Full .pdf reproduction of chapbook. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 002: Title-page illustration of a beehive with swarming bees. A motto, "Industry, Honesty, and Integrity" is displayed on a ribbon at the bottom. Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Fun Upon Fun; or, Leper, the Tailor. In Two Parts: With a Selection of Entertaining Anecdotes Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Dougal, Graham, 1724-1779 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9935661183505154">s0587b43</a> Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <p><span>University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks&nbsp;</span><a href="http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/">http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/</a></p> <div>&nbsp;</div> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Leper the Tailor Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Type The nature or genre of the resource wit & humor Description An account of the resource Woodcut #02: Illustration on title-page of a beehive with swarming bees. A motto, "Industry, Honesty, and Integrity" is displayed on a ribbon at the bottom. Animal: bee(s) Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: wit & humor Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Nature: flower(s) Outdoor Scene https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/aaf07b3ccb960334c9b24566cc23a47b.jpg 3d36ceabd990e04e93ef0ce2e72828c4 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut on title-page portraying an old man wearing a wig and dressed in a coat and collar https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d09bb33c4c6eca8df230078ab3a141b8.pdf 7882f8e9f4e9c795de5a643e490b3668 PDF Text Text THE PLANT OF RENOWN: TWO SERMONS, PREACIIED BY TIIB EEV. EBENEZER ERSKINE, LATE MINISTER OF TIIE GOSPEL IN STIRLING. GLASGOW: �f' - '.mfOVMA aiiT *0 i / AJ I r r ( , . a « O F : : 18' 0 7 M t 7 a a • ini . a m l h a a & a a s a 7 a *i a . v a *i ?.» &vi?.<)\> am r.naiziM MW 1 t w <1. fell rffonp/AJ^ Il a5I?IJT38HO0f{ aitT AOS (IT! ,'IH'I Ml m U |1 �T H E PLANT OF RENOWN. SERMON I. EZEKIEL, xxxiv. 29. And I will raise tip for them a Plant of Renown. I we cast our eyes back upon tlie foregoing part F of this chapter, we shall find a very melancholy scene casting up; we shall find the flock and heritage of God scattered, robbed and peeled by tho civil and ecclesiastical rulers that were in being in that day ; a day much like to the day wherein we live: the ruin of the church of Christ in all ages and periods of the world, has been owing to combinations betwixt corrupt churchmen, and corrupt statesmen ; and so you will find it In the preceding part of this chapter there is a high charge brought in against the Shepherds of Israel, and ft terrible and awful threatening denounced by tho great and chief shepherd against them, for the bad treatment that the flock of Christ had met with in their hands : However the sheep of Christ may be fleeced, and scattered, and spoiled, yet the Lord looks on them ; and many great and precious promises are made for their encouragement in that evil day ; you may read them at your own leisure, for I must not stay upon them just now, But �4 among all the rest of the promises that are made, Christ is the chief; Christ is the To-look of the church, whatever trouble she be in. In the 7th chapter of Isaiah, the church had a trembling heart, God's Israel was shaken as ever you saw the leaves of the wood shaken by the wind, by reason of two Kings combining against them: Well, the Lord tells them, " A Virgin shall conceive and bear a Son* and call his name IMMANUEL." But, might not tbs Church say, what is that to us ? What encouragement doth this afford in the present distress ? hy, the Messiah is to come of the tribe of Judah and the family of David ; and therefore that tribe and family must be preserved, in order to the accomplishment of that promise. Whatever distance of time, suppose hundreds or thousands of years, may intervene before the actual coming of the Messiah ; yet the promise of his coming, as it is the ground of your faith for eternal salvation, so it is a security for the present, that the enemy shall not prevail, to the total ruin of Judah and the royal family of David. In all the distresses of the church, Christ is always presented to her, in the promise, as the object of her faith, and the ground of her consolation ; and accordingly," They looked to him," in the promise, and were lightened ; and their faces were not ashamed." He is here promised under the notion of God's Servant; audi in the words of the text, he is promised as a Renowned Plant, that was to rise in the fulness of time. And, blessed be God, he has sprung up, and is in heaven already, and has overtopt all his ernemies, and all his enemies shall be his foot-stool. jFirst, Here then, you have a comfortable promise of the Messiah ; where, again, you may notice the prom iser; /, / will raise up, <&c. It is a great �indeed; it is JEHOVAH, in the person of the F a t h e r : It was he that in a peculiar manner, sent him ; " God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever belie ve'th in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.— In the fulness of time he sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of Sons." God promised to send him, and accordingly he has actually fulfilled his promise. Again, Secondly, We may notice the blessing promised, and that is, a Plant of Renown.—Christ gets a great many metaphorical names and descriptions in Scripture :—Sometimes he is called a Rose, sometimes he is called a Sun, and sometimes he is called a Door ; sometimes he is called the Tree of Life ; sometimes he is called one thing, and sometimes another ; And he is content to be called any thing, to make himself known to us; and here he is called a Plant, and a Renowned Plant; but more of this afterwards. But then. Thirdly, We have the production of this Plant, I will raise him up. Hell will endeavour to keep him down ; the Devil and his Angels will endeavour to smother him, when he sets his head above ground : So we find Satan sends Herod, and Herod sends the Bloody Dragoons to murder him, when he came into tlie world• But let hell do its utmost, as it hath done in all ages, and is doing this day, to smother that plant, up it will be ; I ivill raise him up, and therefore he shall prosper. But then again, Fourthly, We may notice here, for whom, or for what end, for whose use and benefit it is: I will raise up for them a Plant of Renown. Who �tliese are, you will sco by casting your eye on the former part of this chapter; it is for the Lord's flock, his oppressed heritage, that are borne down by wicked rulers, civil and ecclesiastic : I will raise up for them a Plant of Renown, and ho will be their deliverer. The doctrine that naturally arises from this first clause of the verse, is in short this, That Christ is a Plant of Renown, of God's raising up, for the benefit and advantage of his people, or for their comfort and relief in all their distresses; he is a Renowned Plant of God's raising up." Now, in discoursing this doctrine, if time and strength would allow, I might, First, Premise a few things concerning this blessed Plant. Secondly, I might enquire, why ho is called a Plant of Renown ? Thirdly, Speak a little to the raising up of this Plant. Fourthly, For whom he is raised up. Fifthly, For what end. And then, Lastly, Apply. As to the first of these, namely, First, To premise a few things concerning this blessed Plant. First, I would haye you to know what is here attributed and ascribed to Christ: It is not to be understood absolutely of him as God, but officially as he is Mediator and Redeemer. Considering him absolutely as God, this cannot be properly said of him, that he was raised up: for he is God co-equal and co-essential with the Father; But viewing him as Mediator, he is a Plant, as it wero of God's training. You will see from the context, all that is said of Christ has a respect to him as a 44 �7 Mediator, that ho was to bo God's Servant to do his work: In that consideration he is here called a Plant, and, a Plant of Benown. Hence, Zacharias, when speaking of him, has a phrase much to the same purpose ; " He hath raised up a Horn of Salvation for us in the house of his servant David* Again, Secondly, Another thing I would have you to remark, is, That this Plant is but small and little in the eyes of a blind world. He was little looked upon when he sprung up in his Incarnation ; and when he was here in a state of humiliation, men looked upon him " as a Root sprung up out of a dry ground; they saw no comeliness in him why he should be desired." And to this day, though he be in a state of exaltation at the right hand of God, yet he is little thought of, and looked upon, by the generality of mankind, and the hearers of the gospel; He is despised and rejected of men. But then, Thirdly, Another thing I would have y<ra to remark, is, That however contemptible this Plant of Renown is in the eyes of a blind world, yet he is the tallest Plant in all God's Lebanon, there is not the like of him in it, " He is fairer than the children of men and, " He is as the apple-tree among the trees of the wood,' If ever you saw him, you will be ready to say so too, and with David* " Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and there is none upon the earth that I desire besides thee." Again, Fourthly, Another thing I remark, is, That this blessed Plant of Renown, he was cut down in his death, and sprung up gloriously in his resurrection ; the sword of divine justice hewed down this Plant upon Mount Calvary, but within three days he 1 �8 sprung up again more glorious and more beautiful and amiable than ever ; arid He was declared to be the Son of God with power, according to tho Spirit of holiness, b j his resurrection from the dead." Lastly, I would have you to remark, that all the little plants in the garden are ingrafted in this Plant of Renown: " I am the Vine, ye are the branches; he that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: For without me ye can do nothing—I am a green fir tree, from me is thy fruit found." If you be not ingrafted firs, in this Plant, you will never grow; and all the trees that are not planted in him, they are all but weeds. There is a time coming when all the weeds will be plucked up, and therefore take heed that you be ingrafted in him by a faith of God's operation. So much for the first thing I proposed. The second thing was to shew, that he is a Renowned Plant. He is renowned in heaven, and he is renowned on earth, and will be so, For his name shall endure for ever, Psal. lxxii. 17. 0 he is renowned! For what, say you, is he renowned ? I might here enter upon a very large field ; I shall only tell you, 1. That he is renowned in his Person, There was never the like of him ! The two natures, God and Man, are joined together in one, in him : Did you ever see that ? If you have not seen that, you have not seen the Mystery of Godliness : lie is the most renowned person in heaven ; but he is I M God manifested in the flesh.—Then he is, 2. Renowned for his Pedigree: Who can declare his Generation ? Considering him as God, his eternal generation from the Father cannot be 44 MANUEL, �9 told. We can tell you he is the only begotten of the Father, but we cannot tell you the manner o his generation ; it is a secret that God has drawn a vail upon, and it is dangerous to venture into a search of it; and they that have attempted it, have commonly been boged into Arian, Arminian, and Sabellian errors. Considering him as man, he is sprung of a race of ancient Kings, a famous catalogue of them you read of in first of Matthew.—And who can declare his generation even as man ? For he was born of a Virgin, and conceived by the overshadowing power of the Highest. Then, 3. He is renowned for his name.— He hath a Name above every name that can be named, whether in this world or that which is to come." 4. He is renowned for his Wisdom.—For, All the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are in him." 5. He is renowned for his Power.—For he is not only the Wisdom of God, but the Poicer of God« He is the Man of God's right hand, even the Son of Man, whom he hath made strong for himself." 6. He is renowned for his Veracity and Fidelity. For, Faithfulness is the girdle of his loins." Have you got a word from him ? Depend upon it, it is a sicker word, it does not fail: The word of the Lord endures for ever, when heaven and earth shall pass away 7. He is renowned for his Righteousness. For, He hath brought in an everlasting Righteousness, whereby the Law is magnified and made honourable ;" and by the imputation of which, the guilty transgressors are acquitted : He was made sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be 4 44 44 44 44 44 44 �10 made the Righteousness of God in h i m T h a t is liis Name, The Lord our Righteousness. 8 He is renowned for his fulness.—For, " All the fulness of the Godhead dwells bodily in him He is full of grace and truth ; full of all created and uncreated excellencies. 9. He is renowned for his Love.—What but love brought him out of the bosom of the Father to this lower world ? What but love made him lay down his life for his people ? 10. He is renowned for his Liberality. He has a full hand and a free heart, as we use to say ; he gives without money, and he invites all to come &nd share of his fulness. 11. He is renowned for his Constancy. He is Jesus Christ, the same to-day, yesterday and for ever." The best of men, will fail us when we trust them ; they will run like splinters into our hands, when we lean upon them: But, sirs, you will find Christ always the same, to-day, yesterday and for ever. And then, 12. He is renowned for nis Authority and Dominion. It is great, and extends far and wide, whether in heaven above, or in the earth beneath: And his dominion reaches "from sea to sea, and* from the river unto the ends of the e a r t h A n d all the kings of the earth are but his vassals Thus, I say, Christ in every respect is renowned. But here, to keep by the phraseology of the text, He is a renowned Plant: Wherein is he renowned ? First, I say he is renowned for his Antiquity: I was set up from everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was," &c. All the plants in the higher and lower gardens of God, they are but just upstarts in comparison of him: Angels a&d Arch-angels, and the greatest Seraphims are �11 but of yesterday, in comparison of this Plant. He is renowned for his Antiquity, for he is, " The Ancient of days, and the Eyerlasting Father," Isaiah, 9th chapter. N.B.—Here he was desired to conclude his Discourse, in respect the Work in the Church was over, and that he might give way to another Minister that was to preach the Evening Sermon, SERMON II. xxxiv. 29. And I will raise up for them a Plant of Renown. I had occasion, upon a solemnity of this nature, not long ago, to enter upon these words, but had not time to go far into the import of them. After I had traced the connection of the words a little, I took them up in the few following particulars. 1. We have here a great blessing promised unto the church ; and that is none other than Christ, under the notion of a Prince, and A Plant of Renown. 2. We have the Party by whom this promise is made, in the pronoun /,—I JEHOVAH, the Eternal GOD, I will raise up for them a Plant of Renown. EZEKIEL, �12 3. We have tlie way how this Plant of Renown is raised ; And I will raise him up. I that am the great Husbandman of the vineyard, I ivill raise up for them, &c. Then, • 4. I noticed the persons to whom the promise is made, I will raise up for them ; that is, for his Church, for his people that are brought into a very low condition ; as you will see by reading the preceding part of the chapter. The flock of Christ were scattered by the shepherds of Israel; they were torn, they were devoured, and under manifold trials ; Well, what will the Lord do for his flock in that condition ? He says, I will raise up for them a Plant of Renown, and they shall hunger no more. The observation is much the same with the words themselves, namely, " that our Lord Jesus Christ is a Plant of Renown of his Father's upbringing I will raise up for them a Plant of Renown. In prosecution of this doctrine, I proposed to observe the order and method following. First, To premise a few things concerning this blessed Plant. Secondly, To shew that indeed he is a Plant of Renown. And then, Thirdly, To speak a little concerning the raising up of this Plant. Fourthly, For whom he is raised up. Fifthly, For what good, or for what benefit and advantage he is raised up. And, Lastly, To apply the whole. As to the first, I spoke to it, and premised a few things concerning this blessed Plant; therefore I shall not stay to resume what was said on that Head. I likewise entered upon the second, and shewed that Christ is A Plant of Renown in several respects: I mentioned eleven or twelve particulars �13 wherein Christ is renowned, but I shall not resume these neither: I shall only tell you a few things wherein this blessed Plant is renowned. 1. In the first place, this blessed Plant, he is renowned for his antiquity. There are many other plants in God's garden, as angels, seraphims, cherubims, saints militant and triumphant, they are all but upstarts in comparison of him ; for he was set up before ever the earth was. You will see that one name of this Plant of Renown is, The Everlasting Father, or, " The Father of Eternity," as it may be rendered. 2. As he is renowned for his antiquity, so for his Beauty: he is the most beautiful Plant in all the garden of God ; " I am the Rose of Sharon, and the Lily of the valleys.—He is the apple-tree among the trees of the wood." He is renowned I say, for his beauty and his glory ; for the glory of a God is in him. Is there any glory in his eternal Father ? Why, that glory shines in our in the very brightness of it, Heb. i. 3. " He is the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of his person." Now, sirs, if ever your eyes were opened by the Spirit of God, to take up the glory of this Plant, his glory has just dazzled your very eyes ! You that never saw any glory in him, you never saw him to this very day: Pray that the light of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ, may yet shine into your hearts. It would make a heartsome Sacrament, if this Plant were displayed in his glory among us. Sirs, have you come to see him in his glory ? O give God no rest till he make a discovery of himself to your souls. Then, 3. He is renowned for his verdure, for his perpetual greenness. Other plants are fading; you IMMANUEL, �14 and 1 are fading plants ; " All flesh is grass, and all the jjoodliness thereof is as the flower of the f i e l d H e is a Tree ever green, he never fades, summer nor winter, and shall be ever a green Plant to the Saints as it were to eternity ! When millions of ages, yea, myriads of ages are past in heaven, he will be as fresh and green to the believer, as when he first saw him, or the first moment the saint entered glory : therefore it is, that the songs of the redeemed in glory are always new ; and throughout eternity, will be new, because they will constantly see matter of a new song ; and the more they see, they will wonder the more at him throughout eternity! Again, 4. This Plant is renowned not only for his verdure, but for his virtue. We read, Rev. xxii, " That the leaves of the Tree of Life were for the healing of the nations." That Tree of Life is the very same with this Plant of Renown; the leaves of this Plant are for the healing of the nations ; and we that are ministers are come this day to scatter the leaves of this Tree of Life, of this Plant of Renown ; try if you can get a leaf of it applied and set home upon your souls. Depend upon it, there is virtue in every word of his. Sirs, mingle faith with a word, and you will find that it will jiave the same efficacy with you as it had with the poor woman with the bloody issue, that was healed with a touch of the hern of his garment, who had spent all her living on doctors. 0 see if you can find him! I assure you he is here ; he is behind the door of every man's heart: Behold I stand (says lie,) at the door and knock! If any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and' sup with him, and he with mo." And 0 let him in! there is virtue in him 44 �15 for curing you all, though there were ten thousand millions of you more than there are ; there is virtue in him for healing every one of you. But then, 5. This blessed Plant is not only renowned for his virtue, but likewise for his fertility. He is not a barren Plant; he would not be renowned if he were barren: He brings forth all manner of fruit every month; yea, I may add, every day, every moment. You read in Rev. xxii. of the Tree of Life that brings forth twelve manner of fruits every month ; that is to say, he brings forth all fruit that is necessary for a poor soul: whatever thy soul stands in need of, is to be found in him ; see then and gather, see if you can gather some of it. There is the fruit of his incarnation ; there is the fruit of his death ; there is the fruit of his resurrection ; there is the fruit of his ascension ; there is the fruit of his intercession, and sitting at the right hand of God ; there is the fruit of his prophetic office ; there is the fruit of his priestly office; there is the fruit of his kingly office ; there is the fruit of his appearing within the vail ; there is the fruit of what he did without the vail, and without the camp. 0 what fruit is here! Here is wisdom for fools; here is justification for the condemned soul; here is sanctification for the polluted soul, and clothing for the naked; riches for the poor, bread for the hungry, drink for the thirsty. All manner of fruit is here, and we are trying, sirs, to shake the Tree of Life among you ; and blessed be God, they may be gathered : O sirs ! they are dropping among you ; 0 gather, gather, for salvation is in every word that drop3 from him ; for his words are the words of eternal life. But, in the �16 C. Place, this blessed Plant is renowned for his scent and pleasant savour. O sirs! there is such a blessed savour in this Plant of Renown, as has cast a perfume through all the Paradise above ! He has cast a perfume through the church militant, which in Isaiah v. is called God's vineyard. 0 sirs! do you find any thing of the scent of this Plant ? 1 can tell you, if ever you, have been mado to know him, it will bo so : "because of the savour of thy good ointment, thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the Virgins love thee." The believer he finds a scent about him, he draws a savour from him. What is the deisgn of us ministers, but to cast abroad his scent, and it is by this we win souls ; and they that cast out and drop the Plant of Renown out of their sermons, no wonder their sermons stink, and they shall stink to eternity, that throw Christ out of their sermons. The great business of ministers is to cast forth the scent of Christ to the people. I shall read you a word to this purpose, in 2 Cor. ii. 14,—16, " Now, thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ." The apostle triumphs in him, and all other honest ministers will triumph in him too; and all christians that know him, triumph in him. And maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place. For we are unto God a sweet savour in Christ, in them that are saved, and in them that perish. To the one we are the savour of death unto death ; and to the other, the savour of life unto life ; and who is sufficient for these things ?" Who is able to tell the sweet savour that is in him ? Again, 7. This blessed plant in my text, is not only renowned for his savour, but likewise for his shadow. Song, i. 3. " I sat down under his shadow with great 44 �17 delightthe shadow of the Plant of Renown, You are all sitting there or standing, but are you sitting under the Plant of Renown ? Jonah s gourd did him service against the scorching heat of the sun, that was like to take away his life ; but alas! that soon failed him, for God sent a worm and smote it that it withered ; and the worm of death will soon smite and wither you and me : 0 get in under the shadow of this Plant of Renown, and ye are secured against death and vindictive wrath for ever. Get in under his shadow ; the shadow of his intercession,—the shadow of his power,—the shadow of his providence,—the shadow of his faithfulness: 0 sit under his shadow, and you will find shelter there against all deadly ; whatever blasts come, you will find safety there. Would you be shadowed from the king of terrors ? Death is a terror to many, 0 if you be shadowed against the awful terrors of death and God's vengeance, get in under this shadow, and you are safe. 8. This Plant is renowned for his stature. He is a high Plant, he is a tall Plant: you see the heavens above you, but they are but creeping things in comparison of him ; for this glorious Plant is, The high and lofty One that inhabits eternity., You can never see his height; your eye will look high, and your thought will reach higher, but neither your eye nor thought will reach unto him; he is taller than all the cedars in the Lebanon of God: " Eye hath not seen, nor hath ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man," to think ol the height and glory of this Plant of Renown! And Lastly, This Plant is renowned not only for his stature, but for his extent also : he is a broad Plant, he was planted in the first promise in Par- �18 adise; he spread through the old testament church j he came the length of filling the land of Judea ; and, at length, this Plant has spread itself among us: And 0 that I could open the leaves of this f*lant to take you in ; he is a broad Plant, he will serve you all. We read of the Tree of Life being on every side of the river : there is a great river betwixt us and heaven, and that is death ; and we are all running into this river of death. As one well observes on the place, this Tree is in the middle of the river ; he is on this side of time, and he is on that side of time. Now, this Plant is on both sides of the river ; though you were going to the wastes of America, you will find him there as well as here, if you have but the art of improving him. And this Plant will spread himself through all kingdoms, " The earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord, just as the witters cover the sea." He will not only fill the earth, but the whole heavens throughout eternity ! 0 but he is a. broad Plant, that will extend himself both to heaven and earth! And this shall serve for the second thing proposed, namely, To show that this Plant is indeed a most Renowned Plant. The third thing I proposed in the prosecution of this doctrine, was, concerning the raising or upbringing of this Plant. You see it is no other than the Great G D that raised up this Plant. O, find the Great glorying in his skill and wisdom in the raising up of this Plant for the use of the church. In Psalm lxxxix. 19. says the Lord, I have laid help upon one that is mighty ; I have exalted one chosen out of the people ; I have raised up David my servant; with my holy oil have I anointed him." Here he glories in it, that he had raised up this glorious Plant of Renown. I JEHOVAH 44 �19 I will tell you a few tilings with reference to the raising up of this blessed Plant. 1. He was raised up in the counsel of God's peace from eternity. The Ti'inity sat in council anent the upbringing of him; " The counsel of peace was between them both/' Zech. vi. 13. The Father and the Son agreed upon it, that in the fulness of time the Son should come into the world, 2. He was raised up in the first promise to Adam and Eve. Till this Plant was discovered to them, they were like to run distracted: Aftd indeed, sirs, if Christless sinners saw where they were, and the wrath of God that is hanging over their heads, they would be ready to run distracted, till a revelation of Christ was made to them,' All the promises, all the prophecies, all the types, and all the doctrines of the old testament, they were the gradual springings of this Plant: but it was under ground until, 3. His actual manifestation in the flesh, when, in the fulness of time he appeared: " In the fulness of time, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, &c." 4. This Plant was raised up even in his death and resurrection, by which he was declared to be the Son of God with power, by the spirit of holiness. And, Lastly, This Plant of Renown will be raised up in the songs of the redeemed thro ugh endless eternity. Thus you see, Christ is a Plant of Renown, and what way ho is raised up. The next thing I proposed was, for whom is it that this Plant is raised up ? 01 may some poor thing say, Was he ever raised up for me? I tell you, sirs, he was never raised up for the fallen angels; " For he took not on him the nature of �20 angels, but he took on him the seed of Abraham." Our nature was highly honoured at first, but it soon sunk below the beast that perisheth ; but the second Adam took our nature upon him, and raised it to a higher dignity than the very angels ; for to which of the angels did this honour appertain, to be united to the eternal Son of God ? So that, I say, this Plant of Renown is raised up for mankindsinners, not for angel-kind sinners ; and every mankind-sinner that hears tell of him, they should lay claim to him, as in Isaiah, ix. 6., "To us a Son is given, to us this Child is born ; and the government shall be upon his shoulder : And his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." To us he is given, unto us he is born. I thought to have gone through what I designed on this subject, but time will not allow. The Lord bless his word. A DYING CHRISTIAN'S PRAYER. " Receive my spirit," was tne prayer of Stephen to Jesus Christ, to receive his departing soul; and, brethren, I think you will feel in a dying hour, that your departing soul needs a Divine Saviour. You have one in Jesus Christ. You may call upon liim then, even as now. Ilis ear will not be heavy, though yours may, when death is sealing up your faculties. Ilis eye will not have lost its power of gazing affectionately on you, when yours is becoming dim and closed. His hand will not be shortened, in the hour when yours will have become �21 tremulous and feeble. But lift up the hand, tho heart, the eye, the soul, in prayer to him then, and you will find him a very near and present help in that your time of trouble. Brethren, a Christian should die praying. Other men die in different ways, according to their character and temper. Julius Cesar died adjusting his robes, that he might fall gracefully. Voltaire, with mingled imprecations and supplications; Paine, with shrieks of agonizing remorse. Multitudes die with sullenness, some with blasphemies faltering on their tongue. But, brethren, the humble Christian would die praying. Well says the poet: " Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, The Christian's native air; His watch-word at the gates of death, He enters heaven with prayer I" But, observe for what Stepnen prayed. Lord Jesus receive my spirit!" This is the prayer of faith, commending the immortal spirit to the covenant care of Jesus. The spirit does not die with the body. None but God, who gave, can take away the soul's existence, and he has declared that he never will. Would that bad men would think on that! You cannot get rid of your soul's existence : you cannot cease to be : you may wish it; though the wish is monstrous and unnatural. But there is no annihilation for any soul of man. Oh, come to our Saviour! give him your guilty soul, to be justified through his atonement, washed in his blood, regenerated by his Spirit. Make to him now that surrender of your soul, for which he calls. Renew this happy self-dedication every day, very especially every Sabbath, and most solemnly, from time to time at the Lord's Supper. And then, when you come to die, it will only be, 44 �22 to do once more, wliat you have so often done in former days,—again to commend your soul very humbly, believingly, and affectionately, under the faithful care of Jesus Christ. THE HOUSE OF GOD, T E church was pleasantly situated 01 a rising H 1 bank, at the foot of a considerable hill. It was surrounded by trees, and had a rural retired appearance. In every direction the roads that led to this house of God, possessed distinct but interesting features. One of them ascended between several rural cottages from the sea-shore, which adjoined the lower part of the village-street. Another winded round the curved sides of the adjacent hill, and was adorned, both above and below, with numerous sheep feeding on the herbage of the down. A third road led to the church by a gently rising approach, between high banks, covered with young trees, bushes, ivy, hedge-plants, and wild flowers*—From a point of land, which commanded a view of all these several avenues, I used sometimes, for a while, to watch my congregation gradually assembling together at the hour of Sabbath worship. They were in some directions visible for a considerable distance. Gratifying associations of thought would form in my mind, as I contemplated their approach and successive arrival within the precincts of the house of prayer.—One day as I was thus occupied, during a short interval previous to the hour of divine service, I reflected on the joy, which David experienced at the time he exclaimed, " I was glad when they said unto �23 me, Let us go into the house of the Our feet shall stand within thy gates, 0 Jerusalem. Jerusalem is built as a city that is compact together ; whither the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, unto the testimony of Israel, to give thanks unto the name of the Lord." I was led to reflect upon the various blessings, connected with the establishment of public worship. " How many immortal souls are now gathering together to perform the all-important work of prayer and praiseto hear the word of God—to feed upon the bread of life ! They are leaving their respective dwellings, and will soon be united together in the house of prayer," How beautifully does this represent the effect produced by the voice of the " Good Shepherd," calling his sheep from every part of the wilderness into his fold! As those fields, hills, and lanes, are now covered with men, women, and children, in various directions, drawing nearer to each other, and to the object of their journey's end ; even so, «many shall come from the east, and from the west, and from the north, and from the south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God.' Who can rightly appreciate the value of such hours as these ?—hours spent in learning the way of holy pleasantness, and the paths of heavenly peacehours devoted to the service of God, and of souls ; in warning the sinner to flee from wrath to come ; in teaching the ignorant how to live and die; in preaching the gospel to the poor; in healing the broken-hearted ; in declaring " deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind." " Blessed is the people that know the joyful sound; they shall walk, 0 Lord, in the light of thy countenance. In thy name shall they rejoice all the day, and in thy righteousness shall they be exalted.' ? �2i This train of reflection, at intervals, occurred powerfully to my feelings, as I viewed that very congre gation assembled together in the house of God, whose steps, in their approach to it, I had watchei with prayerful emotions.— Here the rich and poor met together," in mutual acknowledgement that the Lord is the maker of them all," and that all are alike dependent creatures, looking up to one common Father to supply their wants, both temporal and spiritual.—Again, likewise, shall they meet together in the grave, that undistinguishing receptacle of the opulent and the needy,—And once more, at the judgment-seat of Christ, shall the rich and poor meet together, that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad." How closely connected in the history of man, ait these three periods of a general meeting together The house of prayer—the house appointed for all living—and the house not made with hands eternal in the heavens.—May we never separate these ideas from each other, but retain them in a sacred and profitable union! So shall our worshipping assemblies on earth be representative of the general assembly and chuicb of the first-born, which are written in heaven. 44 44 44 v FINIS, � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 023: Title-page illustration in triple ruled border of a portrait of a man in a wig and dressed in a coat with a lace collar. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The plant of renown: being two sermons, preached by the Rev. Ebenezer Erskine, late minister of the gospel in Stirling. Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9934228253505154">s0585b28</a> Description An account of the resource 135 printed at the foot of title page Woodcut #23: Portrait on title-page of a man wearing a wig and dressed in a coat and lace collar. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 per National Library of Scotland Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Religion and Morals Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Erskine, Ebenezer, 1680-1754 Type The nature or genre of the resource sermon religion # of Woodcuts: 1 Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: religion & morals Chapbook Genre: sermon Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Fashion (Clothing): religious Gender: man/men occupation: clergy Portrait: Ebenezer Erskine https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/4b3a6afa453ef393ac73dffc7839dfce.pdf 4382ff89606afd5e820bcf81f536f7d0 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f5358e4fed5ad5130bdf4092e04e5378.jpg 69980bc038e91ef0c5969d1907666351 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. 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For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Woodcut 077: Title-page illustration of a large two-story house with a horse drawn carriage in front and a man standing before a woman seated in the carriage . Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Way to Wealth, with maxims for married ladies and gentlemen, &amp;c. Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Maxims for married ladies and gentlemen, &amp;c. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1850 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133963505154">s0098b48</a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #31 in a bound collection of 34 chapbooks Description An account of the resource "Price One Penny" at bottom of title page Woodcut # Illustration on title page of a large house with a horse drawn carriage at front door and a man standing before a woman seated in the carriage . Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Courtship and Marriage Religion and Morals Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Franklin, Benjamin, 1706-1790 Type The nature or genre of the resource wit & humor # of Woodcuts: 1 Animal: horse(s) Architecture: chimney(s) Architecture: house Architecture: window(s) Bib Context: title-page Chapbook Date: 1841-1850 Chapbook Genre: religion & morals Chapbook Genre: wit & humor Chapbook Publisher - Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Gender: man/men Gender: woman/women Outdoor Scene Transportation: carriage https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d8898ae130c9a8471faa55f400422c58.pdf aec9572e4124883c42c0f53aee5f24dc https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/93663399e090b9225f0837f051694531.jpg 2ac12e3591fe31ea1253505712c22838 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/449454ff23bb749312f108705d888b22.jpg 92fcb8c1691769394d5661dc1a8367fe https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/0163838aeefe3f0adcdbf4f7e899e649.jpg 7d06bf4b23bec35c0cd700ea46a1603f https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/225bbe8d771b940a614f4c9a46ab7098.jpg 046cb88c2e0478b9ad96ac760de0a815 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/92d03c0d74e4d52a3498b6098832474a.jpg 576cbd2f6c8f0daec2dd1fc94f084a98 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/3ed02290241a7104bb35f0474d15b24b.jpg 01c0e34cd218eec977d2b61bee2cbf50 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/dbb7f9f1860be637bb4a80e27ef138d4.jpg 530ffdd53e5d9d95941eaab5f605211e https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/5491ebd0334cbbd50662c7cc5f8b8bb9.jpg 453863f3611a23fd76cc9b69df82628c https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/4e2c0115a432c203e228e11fbb7ea050.jpg a79f16b8923ffc4828d645830733fbdc https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/7a24c7c18ad5b925922215ef06c27289.jpg 3cea095ed2d02c906aa12e4bb01ab436 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d62650278d311abecea0322394c04fc3.jpg 0ec016638a43ea35a83f82ca130aa31d https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/1c6a34528689aa3087ac94976f806cdf.jpg 1054a0ce232d93cbef7daa0eae4a7465 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/6980053872384a1b2dedc896e8ddf6d4.jpg 8c2f1351aaae03e8968ebe9a692c15cb https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a2a7c1a738568994b0414ab795af2243.jpg e741a73db38fc6e12346351b6a3cd945 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/260720dcf88fff403c2d942237f9be44.jpg 82004fec34bff44f19c5d0355a608ee4 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ddc8e77563a7b8336f970a769f00f8fe.jpg b735b67de0c321697b1fa2fb6d25a08b https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/4554097c6b3be6a4860e70643e0d4684.jpg 90bfd892c73b00d249570f1c5696d43f https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/7b8efce66f969eff3970ef696696d9cc.jpg 220ca076cbc7eb24acde7d462361aa04 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/6c0723e0de6535706add069b35a34ddb.jpg 510797e18ebb897c8e99c7c538552ab5 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/e2902387624eae5c3bfa8d242ce82d9d.jpg 64c76dd5919e051775d4a515bea9999c https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/860ccece8d82635097db1e6229e6d8a4.jpg a099b8742621223831f719e390873881 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/382b8cf2284c911d7009c44d358532e7.jpg 4d390386a5c89f3fd0b83d6b5267c31c https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2f8414c8ffe7a838cd086a46b63c5c80.jpg 833214f2cf72a51bec0ab56f252383e9 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/5d9bac8bdc0c27d04bd1f37695c01b2e.jpg 477a97be116d7bf9522caccd92d2ddf9 Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Way to Wealth; or Poor Richard's Maxims Improved, &amp;c. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133963505154">s0098b48</a> <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133913505154">s0221b12</a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #23 in a bound collection of 34 chapbooks (s0098b48) Chapbook #16 in a bound collection of 22 chapbooks (s0221b12) Subject The topic of the resource Crime Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages Abstract A summary of the resource. This is a Scottish imprint of part of Benjamin Franklin’s Poor Richard’s Almanack. Written in the first person by Benjamin Franklin, aka Richard Saunders, the author presents a collection of quotations and selections from his own almanacs as the speech an old man who, upon being asked his opinion on taxes, delivers an oration on the importance of industry and thrift using passages from Poor Richard. This is followed by three moralizing tales on the virtues of temperance, prudence, and frugality, and the evils of drinking, indiscretion, and crime. Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks <a href="v">http://special.lib.gla.ac.uk/chapbooks/search/</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Poor Richard's maxims improved, &c. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Franklin, Benjamin, 1706-1790. https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/923ae54e346625f8bc38e3059f709f79.pdf 0fa0140522aaf23a1c85347a93377c8b https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/39b3a550f9ade618e7e0d0a4ebcde9c5.jpg bba3941cae7c138ec88729331f09c10c https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2179fd76368eca6b1d55ea1e5e43498f.jpg 39f43a64ae3e3dd1bc93af47bf3e5c49 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/e82d5600048eda893148b38922250386.jpg 6631cc0899d121e81495a6856314d1f8 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/26f9ac6c343d754d0520935191163808.jpg beeb5dc60c972b4597cdb351cb9c2782 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/45d694eb3ddaaffc0301636b1d0a5ba0.jpg 06248373b3b59bd7e40e251d5aa92656 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2d78c87a86b70af73a651e9d1b450944.jpg 7694009d827edc0038da0221f43652c4 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/bf51d1c806f1bc4a8a0047e94c34cf12.jpg 87bfdeea2d6dddcd608ead9affc4e9d6 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/cadf5c7361cca5a0fcaa343ed2ff6c2e.jpg eda09348d7e59f1e307dea5c0b828fd7 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/20884f75c1f7860360372607b3ce366d.jpg 0bc392638459e75cabf3c30c61227d18 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/87a5df261da6b27f53bd3520288024bc.jpg 91babcdf31cbb7fd7405871ea0886636 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/b06ea04038d9779550cf64b1a471de00.jpg d563fa2fd10a62b803e5bc07e0bde689 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/568647eb794cb83eb41d5d5628701075.jpg 4f3dccb3caa60d4bebe29a2053462b33 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d524d46698f985fcce32044b2537cd2c.jpg 9814d97858c934e1217c6d7c6300bf1c https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2568cc26b0e981a0a153edd64d624c22.jpg 6841fb4136d476b64e1306f39344ad39 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d276355102d4094d3c873116835cf9f5.jpg 811aabb30e4a415a699a9a053b3ae6b3 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/6811d6e640028578c7badf73cf9cc318.jpg 929a6428c834db271c62910316d41694 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/b71af892b46deb4ec26390564bc455b0.jpg 7d142131269c034562cdb3bca84b397d https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/dd01cea1acb72359c08ebeee9f57ad86.jpg f0b10a0e0dd88ce93b7f75fb9fa12c70 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/3c9bc23d41ca6875a3400ee00c317fdf.jpg 92153e35f09045b1fe388815bff91853 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/86f6480ee6a08826bd2792b6a32609da.jpg a57526086f84d95adb9f4c6a9315a55e https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d462de3b7648424635a3eb4987a9a3a8.jpg ba28b9edda7da676b479d5739fed4c03 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/751a704de4db582a34bc2279abf33c0c.jpg 24acda7ae6e2ff9fe1ab36358aeede81 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d302891405bf9cd098a74971dddf0062.jpg 37ed346b7085d975c9e1590f9374b707 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/1ff8dd8d96428b698f4f439cfe41d288.jpg 529eec847f92ce0c8ebcc25db4b6ea5d Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Life and Adventures of David Haggart. Written by himself, while under sentence of death; With an account of his execution. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133963505154">s0098b48</a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #13 in a bound collection of 34 chapbooks Description An account of the resource 11 printed at the bottom of title-page Subject The topic of the resource Crime Religion and Morals Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1840-1850? per University of Glasgow Union Catalogue of Scottish Chapbooks Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages Abstract A summary of the resource. A biography of David Haggart, including detailed descriptions of the many crimes committed by him throughout his life, as well as various trials, escapes, and his conviction and execution. Also included are a few verses attributed to Haggart, written while he was in prison which portrayed himself as a loveable rogue who only robbed the rich and never the poor. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Haggart, David, 1801-1821 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/51019fa5f63b280d8d8ecb58eb18adf9.jpg c3c575e6e44700c6dd2a9d24803784c6 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3369 Width 1954 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/641f7752c594fc4f5bc0f316efdd81db.pdf 0f78d44279081bc4a4dcaec1a9a197f3 Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Long Pack; or, The Robbers Discovered: A Scottish Story. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953134493505154">s0231b06</a> <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923357673505154">s0329b34</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The Robbers Discovered Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource ca. 1850 per National Library of Scotland Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 16 cm Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Chapbook #20 in a bound collection of 20 chapbooks (s0231b06) Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Northumberland, England Subject The topic of the resource Crime Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. National Library of Scotland <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">http://www.nls.uk/</a> Abstract A summary of the resource. This 24 page chapbook contains a print of James Hogg’s tale, The Long Pack, originally published under his pseudonym, the Ettrick Shepherd. In this tale, a peddler arrives at the country home of a wealthy Colonel who is absent on a visit to London. The peddler tries to convince the servants of the house to let him spend the night, but upon being asked to leave, he asks if he can at least leave his pack for the night, which is abnormally large and heavy. Alice, the servant, reluctantly agrees and soon regrets her decision when she observes the pack moving as it rests in the parlour. She seeks help from the other workers on the property, a farm-hand and a rash young man who has a bit of a gun obsession. When the young man, Edward, likewise observes the pack moving, he shoots it with his gun, Copenhagen, but to the company’s horror, the pack gushes bloods and they discover that the pack is actually a man in disguised to look like a pack. At first repentant, they are both relieved and scared to discover the man was armed and likely meant to kill them all and rob the house with the assistance of other criminals. The party of three rouse the peasants of the property, organizing and arming the company and hiding in the house in wait. Much later, a large company of men on horseback arrive, and the defenders release a volley, killing several men and successfully driving off the invaders. Cold and fear keep the men inside until the morning when they discover the bodies of the dead had been carried off under cover of night by their associates. By the time the Colonel is alerted and returns to his home, the trail is cold and the criminals fled or hidden. Nonetheless, the characters of the story are rewarded with full lives after their roles in the adventure of the Long Pack. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Hogg, James, 1770-1835; Ettrick shepherd Type The nature or genre of the resource supernatural & ghost stories https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ccea24808da2b5ecad1d533128254bb4.jpg a158c069b3c2fc1b5c1a6847dc59d73b Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3604 Width 2127 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ae68989fa45d9e19d552d7e8831496f3.pdf 0f83381353191cd729fcfd2b38532cab Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The History of Duncan Campbell, and his dog Oscar. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923332043505154">s0384b15</a> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Hogg, James, 1770-1835; Ettrick shepherd Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [1840-1850?] per National Library of Scotland Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 17 cm Description An account of the resource 10 is printed at the bottom of the title-page. Subject The topic of the resource Highlands Chapbooks - Scotland - Glasgow Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland&nbsp;</a> Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Glasgow: Printed for the Booksellers Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/b22b3bfc8548fa9655e09f01d8a934a1.jpg 3d9cf2e4ecfb49da4a70e65e4cd4489d Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3484 Width 2008 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/e8ff7114e22197e362a05a90b79e3834.pdf 292f8f80f080afa981855bb530e8df51 PDF Text Text m,. I �DUNCAN CAMPBELL D U N C A N C A M P B E L L came from the Highlands, when six years of age, to live with an old maiden aunt in Edinburgh, and attend the school. His mother was dead ; but his father had supplied her place by marrying his house-keeper Duncan did not trouble himself about these matters, nor indeed about any other matters, save a black foal of his father's, and a large sagacious colley, named Oscar, which belonged to one of the shepherds. —With his garter tied round Oscar's neck, and a piece of deal tied to his big bushy tail, Duncan would often lead him about the green, pleased with the idea that he was conducting a horse and a cart. Oscar submitted to all this with gi^at cheerfulness, but whenever Duncan mounted to ride on him, he found means instantly to unhorse him, either by galloping, or rolling himself on the green. When Duncan threatened him, he looked submissive, and licked his face and hands ; when he corrected him with the whip, he cowered at his feet; —matters were soon made up. Oscar would lodge nowhere during the night but at the door of the room where his young friend slept, and woe befel the man or woman who ventured to enter in at untimely hours* ��4 Duncan Campbell. When Duncan left his native home, he thought not of his father, nor of any of the servants. He was fond of the ride, and some supposed that he even scarcely thought of the black foal; but when he saw Oscar standing looking him ruefully in the face, the tears immediately blinded both his eyes. He caught him around the neck, hugged and kissed him. 'Good bye, Oscar,' said he, blubbering, * Good bye, God bless you, my dear Oscar !' Duncan mounted before a servant, and rode away. Oscar still followed at a distance, until he reached the top of a hill; he then sat down and howled. Duncan cried till his little heart was like to burst. c What ails you V said the servant. ' I will never see my poor honest Oscar again,' said Duncan, ' an* my heart canna bide it.' Duncan staid a year in Edinburgh, but he did not make great progress in learning. He did not approve highly of attending at the school, and his aunt was too indulgent to compel his attendance. She grew extremely ill one day—the maids kept constantly by her, and never regarded Duncan. He was an additional charge to them, and they never loved him, but used him harshly. It was now with great difficulty that he could obtain either meat or drink. Jn a few days after, his aunt was taken ill, and died. All was in confusion, and poor Duncan was like to perish with hunger :—he could find no person in the house ; but hearing a noise in his aunt's chamber, he went in, and beheld them dressing the corpse of his kind relation : it was enough: Duncan was horrified beyond what mortal breast was able to endure :—he hasted down the stairs, and ran along the High-Street and SouthBridge, as fast as his feet would carry him, crying incessantly all the way. He would not have entered that house again if the world had been offered him as a reward. Some peo*>le stopped him in �5 Duncan Campbell. order to ask what was the matter, but he could only answer them by exclaiming, Oh dear ! Oh dear!' and struggling till he got free, held on his course, careless whither he went, provided he got far enough from the horrid scene he had so lately witnessed. Some have supposed, and I believe Duncan has been heard to confess, that he then imagined he ^was running for the Highlands, but mistook the direction. However that was, he continued his course until he came to a place where two roads met, a little south of Grange Toll. Here he sat down, and his frenzied passion subsided into a soft melancholy —he cried no more, but sobbing excessively, fixed his eyes on the ground, and made some strokes in the dust with his finger. A sight just then appeared, which somewhat cheered, or at least interested his heavy and forlorn heart—-it was a large^ drove of Highland cattle. They were the only creatures like acquaintances that Duncan had seen for a twelvemonth, and a tender feeling of joy, mixed with regret, thrilled his heart at the sight of their white horns and broad dew-laps. As the van passed him, he thought their looks were particularly gruff and sullen; he soon perceived the cause, they were all in the hands of Englishmen ; poor exiles like himself; going far away to be killed and eaten, and would never see the Highland hills again. When they were all gone by, Duncan looked after them, and wept anew ; but his attention was suddenly called away to something that softly touched his feet; he looked hastily about—it was a poor hungry lame dog, squatted on the ground, licking his feet and manifesting the most extravagant joy. Gracious Heaven! it was his own beloved and faithful Oscar! starved, emaciated, and so crippled, that he was scarcely able to walk ! He was now doomed to be the slave of a Yorkshire peasant, (who, �6 Duncan Campbell. it seems, had either bought or stolen him at Falkirk,) the generosity and benevolence of whose feelings were as inferior to those of Oscar, as Oscar was inferior to him in strength and power. It is impossible to conceive a more tender meeting than this was ; but Duncan soon observed that hunger and misery were painted in his friend's looks, which again pierced his heart with feelings unfelt before. — c I have not a crumb to give you, my poor Oscar!' said he, tf I have not a crumb to eat myself, but I am not so ill as you are.' The peasant whistled aloud. Oscar well knew the sound, and clinging to the boy's bosom, leaned his head upon his thigh, and looked in his face, as if saying, ' O Duncan, protect me from yon ruffian.' The whistle was repeated, accompanied by a loud and surly call. Oscar-trembled, but fearing to disobey, he limped away reluctantly after his unfeeling master, who observing him to linger and look back, imagined he wanted to effect his escape, and came running back to meet him. Oscar cowered to the earth in the most submissive and imploring manner, but the peasant laid hold of him by the ear, and uttering many imprecations, struck him with a thick staff till he lay senseless at his feet. Every possible circumstance seemed combined to wound the feelings of poor Duncan, but this unmerited barbarity shocked him most of all. He hasted to the scene of action, weeping bitterly, and telling the man that he was a cruel brute, and that if ever he himself grew a big man he would certainly kill him. He held up his favourite's head that he might recover his breath, and the man, knowing that he could do little without his dog, waited patiently to see what would be the issue. The animal recovered, and staggered away at the heels of his tyrant, without daring to look behind him. Duncan stood still, but kept his eyes fixed �7 Duncan Campbell. eagerly upon Oscar, and the farther he went from him, the more strong his desire grew to follow him. He looked the other way, but all there was to him a blank—he had no desire to stand where he was, so he followed Oscar and the drove of cattle. The cattle were weary, and went slowly; and Duncan, getting a little rod in his hand, assisted the man greatly in driving them. One of the drivers gave him a penny, and another gave him twopence ; and the lad who had the charge of the drove, observing how active and pliable he was, and how far he had accompanied him on the way, gave him sixpence : this was a treasure to Duncan, who, being extremely hungry, bought three penny rolls, as he passed through a town; one of these he ate himself, another he gave to Oscar, and the third he carried below his arm, in casp of farther necessity. He drove all the day, and at night the cattle rested upon a height, which, by his description, seems to have been that between Gala Water and Middleton. Duncan went off at side in company with Oscar, to eat his roll; and taking shelter behind an old earthen wall, they shared their dry meat most lovingly between them. Ere it was quite finished, Duncan, being fatigued, dropped into a profound slumber, out of which he did not awake until the next morning was far advanced. Englishmen, cattle, and Oscar, all were gone. Duncan found himself alone on a wild height, in what country or kingdom he knew not. He sat for some time in a callous stupor, rubbing his eyes and scratching his head, but quite irresolute what was further necessary for him to do, until he was agreeably surprised by the arrival of Oscar, who (though he had gone at his master's call in the morning) had found means to escape and seek the retreat of his young friend and benefactor. Duncan, without reflecting on the consequence, rejoiced in the event, and thought of �8 Duncan Campbell. nothing less than furthering his escape from the ruthless tyrant who now claimed him. For this purpose he thought it would be best to leave the road, and accordingly he crossed it, in order to go over a waste moor to the westward. He had not got forty paces from the road, until he beheld the enraged Englishman running towards him without his coat, and having his staff heaved over his shoulder. Duncan's heart fainted within him, knowing it wa^all over with Oscar, and most likely with himself. The peasant seemed not to have observed then^ as he was running, and rather looked the other way; and as Duncan quickly lost sight of him in a hollow place that lay between them, he crept into a bush of heath and took Oscar in his bosom. The man had observed from whence the dog had started in the morning, and hasted to the place, expecting to find him sleeping beyond the old earthen dyke ; he found the nest, but the birds were flown: he called aloud; Oscar trembled and clung to Duncan's breast; Duncan peeped through his purple covert like a heath-cock on his native waste, and again beheld the ruffian coming straight towards them, with his staff still heaved, and fury in his looks ;—when he came within a few yards he bellowed out, ' Oscar, yho, yho !' Oscar quaked, and still clung closer to Duncan's breast; Duncan almost sunk in the earth ; ( D n him,' said the Englishman, 'If I had hold of him I should make both him and the little thievish rascal dear at a small price ; they cannot be far gone—I think I hear them ; ' he then stood listening, but at that instant a farmer came up on horseback, and having heard him call, asked him if he had lost his dog. The peasant answered in the affirmative, and added that a blackguard boy had stolen him. The farmer said that he met a boy with a dog about a mile forward. During this dialogue, the farmer's dog came d �V,- Duncan Campbell. 9 »p to Duncan's den, smelled upon him, then upon Oscar,—cocked his tail, walked round them growling, and then behaved in a very improper and uncivil manner to Duncan, who took all patiently, uncertain whether he was yet discovered. But so intent was the fellow upon the farmer's intelligence, that he took no notice of the discovery made by the dog, but ran off without looking over his shoulder. Duncan felt this a deliverance so great that all his other distresses vanished; and as soon as the man was out of his sight, he arose from his covert and ran over the moor, and ere it was long, came to a shepherd's house, where he got some whey and bread for his breakfast, which he thought the best meat he had ever tasted, yet shared it with Oscar. Though I had his history from his own mouth, yet there is a space here which it is impossible to relate with any degree of distinctness or interest, He was a vagaband boy, without any fixed habitation, and wandered about Heriot Moor, from one farm-house to another, for the space of a year ; staying from one to twenty nights in each house, according as he found the people kind to him. H e seldom resented any indignity offered to himself, but whoever insulted Oscar, or offered any obser-* vations on the impropriety of their friendship, lost Duncan's company next morning. He staid several months at a place called Dewar, which he said was haunted by the ghost of a piper. The piper had been murdered there many years before, in a manner somewhat mysterious, or at least unaccountable ; and there was scarcely a night in which he was tfiot supposed either to be seen or heard about the house. Duncan slept in the cow-house, and was terribly harassed by the piper, often hearing hi? scratching about the rafters, and sometimes groanm g �10 Duncan Campbell. like a man dying, or a cow that was choTked in the band; but at length he saw him at his side one night, which so discomposed him that he was obliged to leave the place, after being ill for many days. I shall give this story in Duncan's own words, which I have often heard him repeat without any variation. ' I had been driving some young cattle to the heights of Willensfie—it grew late before I got home. I was thinking, and thinking, how cruel it was to kill the poor piper ! to cut out his tongue, and stab him in the back. I thought it was no wonder that his ghost took it extremely ill; when, all on a sudden, I perceived a light before me :— I thought the wand in my hand was all on fire, and threw it away, but I perceived the light glide slowly by my right foot, and burn behind me; I was nothing afraid, and turned about to look at the light, and there I saw the piper, who was standing hard at my back, and when I turned round, he looked me in the face.' What was he like, Duncan V ' H e was like a dead body; but I got a short view of him ; for that moment all around me grew dark as a pit! I tried to run, but sunk powerless to the earth, and lay in a kind of dream, I do not know how long; when I came to myself, I got up and endeavoured to run, but fell to the ground every two steps. I was not a hundred yards from the house, and 1 am sure I fell upwards of a hundred times. Next day I was in a high fever : the servants made me a little bed in the kitchen, to which I was confined by illness many days, during which time I suffered the most dreadful agonies by night, always imagining the piper to be standing over me on the one side or the other. As soon as I was able to walk, I left Dewar, and for along time durst neither sleep alone during the night, nor stay by myself ia the day-time.' �11 Duncan Campbell. The superstitious ideas impressed upon Duncan's mind by this unfortunate encounter with the ghost of the piper, seem never to have been eradicated; a strong instance of the power of early impressions, and a warning how much caution is necessary m modelling the conceptions of the young and tender mind; for of all men I ever knew, he is the most afraid of meeting with apparitions. So deeply is his imagination minted with this startling illusion, that even the calm disquisitions of reason have proved quite inadequate to the task of dispelling it. Whenever it wears late, he is always on the look out for these ideal beings, keeping a jealous eye upon every bush and brake, in case they should be lurking behind them, ready to fly out and surprise him every moment; and the approach of a person in the dark, or any sudden noise, always deprives him of the power of speech for some time. After leaving Dewar, he went wandering about for a few weeks; and it appears that his youth, beauty, and peculiarly destitute situation, together with his friendship for his faithful Oscar, had interested the most part of the country people in his behalf, for he was generally treated with kindness. He knew his father's name, and the name of his house : but as none of the people he visited had ever before , heard of either the one or the other, they gave themselves no trouble about the matter. He staid nearly two years in a place he called Cowhaur, till a wretch, with whom he slept, struck and abused him one day. Duncan, in a rage, flew to the loft, and cut all his Sunday hat, shoes, and coat, in pieces ; and not daring to abide the consequences, decamped that night. He wandered about for some time longer among the farmers of Tweed and Yarrow ; but this life was now become exceedingly disagreeable to him. �12 Duncan Campbell. He durst not sleep by himself, and the servants did not always choose that a vagrant boy and his great dog should sleep with them. It was on a rainy night, at the close of harvest, that Duncan came to my father's house. I remember all the circumstances as well as the transactions of yesterday. The whole of his clothing consisted of one black coat only, which having been made for a full-grown man, hung fairly to his heels ; the hair of his head was rough, curled and weatherbeaten; but his face was ruddy and beautiful, bespeaking a healthy body, and a sensible feeling heart. Oscar was nearly as large as himself, had the colour of a fox, with a white stripe down his face, and a ring of the same colour round his neck, and was the most beautiful colley I have ever seen. My heart was knit to Duncan at the first sight, and I wept for joy when I saw my parents so kind to him. My mother, in particular, could scarcely do any thing else than converse with Duncan for several days. I was always of the party, and listened with wonder and admiration; but often have these adventures been repeated to me. My parents, who soon seemed to feel the same concern for him as if he had been their own son, clothed him in blue drugget, and bought him a smart little Highland bonnet; in which dress he looked so charming that I would not let them have peace until I got one of the same. Indeed, all that Duncan said or did was to me a pattern, for I loved him as my own ]ife. I was, at my own request, which he persuaded me to urge, permitted to be his bed-fellow, and many a happy night and day did I spend with Duncan and Oscar. As far as I remember, we felt no privation of any kind, and would have been completely happy, if it had ^Lot been for the fear of spirits. When the conversation chanced to turn upon the Piper of �13 Duncan Campbell. Dewar, the Maid of Plora, or the Pedlar of Thirlestane Mill,, often have we lain with the bed-clothes drawn over our heads until nearly suffocated. We loved the fairies and the brownies, and even felt a • little partiality for the mermaids, on account of their beauty and charming songs; we were a little jealous of the water-kelpies, and always kept aloof from the frightsome pools. We hated the devil most heartily, but we were not much afraid of him ; but a ghost! oh dreadful! the name ghost, spirit, or apparition, sounded in our ears like the knell of destruction, and our hearts sunk within us as if pierced by the cold icy shaft of death. Duncan nerded my father's cows all the summer—so did I— we could not live asunder. We grew fishers so expert, that the speckled trout, with all his art, could uiot ©lude our machinations ; we forced him from bis watery cove, admired the beautiful shades and purple drops that were painted on his sleeky sides, % d forthwith added him to our number, without m r&luefcance. We assailed the habitation of the wild bee, and rifled all her accumulated sweets, though not without encountering the most determined resistance. My father's meadows abounded with hiYes; they were almost in every swath-—in every hillock. When the swarm was large, they would beat us off, day after day. In all these desperate engagements, Oscar came to our assistance, and prorided that none of the enemy made a lodgment in his lower defiles, he was always the last combatant of our party on the field. I do not remember of ever being so much diverted by any scene I ever witnessed, or laughing so immoderately as I have done, at seeing Oscar involved in a moving cloud of wild bees, wheeling, snapping on all sides, and shaking his ears incessantly. The sagacity which this animal possessed is almost incredible, while his undaunted spirit and gen- �14 Duncan Campbell. erosity it would do honour to every servant of our own species to copy. Twice did he save his master's life : at one time when attacked by a furious bulj, and at another time when he fell from behind Oscar N my father, off a horse into a flooded river. had just swimmed across, but instantly plunged in a second time to his master's rescue. He first got hold of his bonnet, but that coming off, he quitted it, and again catching him by the coat, brought him to the side, where my father reached him. He waked Duncan at a certain hour every morning, and would frequently turn the cows of his own will, when he observed them wrong. If Duncan dropped his knife, or any other small article, he would fetch it along in his mouth, and if sent back for a lost thing, would infallibly find it. When sixteen years of age, after being unwell for several days, he died one night below his master's bed. On the evening before, when Duncan came in from the plough, he came from his hiding-place, wagged his tail, licked Duncan's hand, and returned to his death-bed. Duncan and I lamented him with unfeigned sorrow, buried him below the old rowan tree at the back of my father's garden, placing a square stone at his head, which was still standing the last time I was there. With great labour we composed an epitaph between us, which was once carved on that stone : the metre was good, but the stone was so hard, and the engraving so faint, that the characters, like those of our early joys, are long ago defaced and extinct. Often have I heard my mother relate with enthusiasm, the manner in which she and my father first discovered the dawnings of goodness and facility of conception in Duncan's mind, though, I confess, dearly as I loved him, these circumstances escaped my ob servation. It was my father's invariable custom to pray with the family every night before they retired to rest, to thank the Almighty for his kind- �15 Duncan Campbell. ness to them during the bygone day, and to beg his protection through the dark and silent watches of the night. I need not inform any of my readers that that amiable duty consisted in singing a few stanzas of a psalm, in which all the family joined their voices with my father's, so that the aouble octaves of the various ages and sexes swelled to the simple concert. He then read a chapter from the Bible, going straight on from beginning to end of the Scriptures. The prayer concluded the devotions of each evening, in which the downfall of Antichrist was always strenuously urged, the ministers of the gospel remembered, nor was any friend or neighbour in distress forgot. At one time, the year following, my father, in the course of his evening devotions, had reached the 19th chapter of the book of Judges; when he began reading it, Duncan was seated on the other side of the house, but ere it was half done, he had stolen up close to my father's elbow. Consider of it, take advice, speak your mind, said my father, and closed the book. Go on, go on, if you please, Sir, said Duncan, go on, and let us hear what they said about it. My father looked sternly at Duncan's face, but seeing him abashed on account of his hasty breach of decency, without uttering a word, he again opened the Bible, and read the 20th chapter throughout, notwithstanding of its great length. Next day Duncan was walking about with the Bible below his arm, begging of every body to read it to him again and again. This incident produced a conversation between my parents on the expenses and utility of education ; the consequence of which was, that, the week following, Duncan and I were sent to the parish school, and began at the same instant to the study of that most important and fundamental branch of literature, the A, B, C ; but my �16 Duncan Campbell. sister Mary, who was, older than I, was already an accurate and elegant reader. This reminds me of another anecdote of Duncan, with a regard to family worship, which I have often heard related, and which I myself may well remember. My father happened to be absent overnight at a fair; when the usual time of worship arrived, my mother desired a lad, one of the servants, to act as chaplain that night; the lad declined it, and slunk away to his bed. My mother testified her regret that we should be obliged to go prayerless to our beds for that night, observing that she did not remember the time when it so happened before. Duncan said he thought we might contrive to manage it amongst us, and instantly proposed to sing the psalm and pray, if Mary would read the chapter. To this my mother, with some hesitation, agreed, remarking, that if he prayed as he could, with a pure heart, his prayer had as good a chance of being accepted as some others that were better worded. Duncan could not then read, but having learned several psalms from Mary by rote, h« caused her to seek out the place, and sung the 23rd Psalm from end to end with great sweetness and decency. Mary read a chapter in the New Testament, and then (my mother having a child on her knee) we three kneeled in a row, while Duncan prayed thus: e O Lord, be thou our God, our guide and our guard unto death, and through death!' that was a sentence my father often used in prayer ; Duncan had laid hold of it, and my mother began to think that he had often prayed previous to that time.— ' O Lord, thou—' continued Duncan, but his matter was exhausted ; a long pause ensued, which I at length broke, by bursting into a loud fit of laughter. Duncan rose hastily, and without once lifting up his head, went crying to his bed; and as I continued to indulge in laughter, my mother, for my �17 Duncan Campbell. irreverent behaviour, struck me across the shoulders with the tongs•:; our evening devotions terminated exceedingly ill, I went crying to my bed after Duncan, even louder than he, and abusing him for his useless prayer, for which I had been nearly felled. By the time that we were recalled from school to herd the cows next summer, we could both read the Bible with considerable facility. But Duncan far excelled me in perspicacity ; and so fond was he of reading Bible history, that the reading of it was now our constant amusement. Often have Mary, and he, and I, lain under the same plaid, by the side of the corn or meadow, and read chapter about in the Bible for hours together, weeping over the failings and fall of good men, and wondering at the inconceivable might of the heroes of antiquity. Never was man so delighted as Duncan was when he came to the history of Sampson, and afterwards of David and Goliahj he could not be satisfied until he had read it with every individual with whom he wis acquainted, judging it to be as new and as interesting to every one as it was to himself. I have seen him steading by the girls as they were milking the cows, reading to them the feats of Sampson; and, in short, harassing every man and woman about the hamlet for audience; .On Sundays, my parents accompanied us to the fields, and joined in our delightful exercise. Time passed away, and so also did our youthful delights ! but other cares and other pleasures awaited us. As we advanced in years and strength, we quitted £he herding, and bore a hand in the labours of the farm. Mary, too, was often our assistant. She and Duncan were nearly of an age— he was tall, comely, and affable ; and if Mary was not the prettiest girl in the parish, at least Duncan and I believed her to be so, which with us �18 Duncan Campbell. amounted to the same thing. We often compared the other girls in the parish with one another, as to their beauty and accomplishments, but to think of comparing any of them with Mary, was entirely out of the question. She was, indeed, the emblem of truth, simplicity, and innocence, and if there were few more beautiful, there were still fewer so good and amiable; but still, as she advanced in years, she grew fonder and fonder of being near Duncan ; and by the time she was nineteen* was so deeply in love, that it affected her manner, her spirits, and her health. At one time she was gay and frisky as a kitten: she would dance, sing, and laugh violently at the most trivial incidents. At other times she was silent and sad, while a languishing softness overspread her features, and added greatly to her charms. The passion was undoubtedly mutual between them ; but Duncan, either from a sense of honour, or some other cause, never declared himself farther on the subject, than by the most respectful attention, and tender assiduities. About forty years ago the flocks of southern sheep, which have since that period inundated the Highlands, had not found their way over the Grampian mountains, and the native flocks of that sequestrated country were so scanty, that it was found necessary to transport small quantities of wool annually to the north, to furnish materials for clothing the inhabitants. During two months of each summer, the hilly countries of the Lowlands were inundated by hundreds of women from the Highlands, who gartered small articles of dress, and of domestic import, for wool; these were known by the appellation of norlart nettles ; and few nights passed, during the wool season, that some of them were not lodged at my father's house. It was from tw.o of these that Duncan learned one day that he was the laird of Glen©llich's only son and heir, and that a large sum had �19 Duncan Campbell. been offered to any person that could discover him. My parents certainly rejoiced in Duncan's good fortune, yet they were disconsolate at parting with him, for he had long ago become as a son of their own ; and I seriously believe, that from the day they first met, to that on which the two norlan' nettles came to our house, they never once entertained the idea of parting. For my part, I wished that the nettles had never been born, or that they had staid at their own home; for the thoughts of being separated from my dear friend made me sick at heart. All our feelings were, however, nothing, when compared with those of my sister Mary. One day, at dinner time, after a long and sullen pause, my father s a i d — h o p e you do not intend to leave us soon, Duncan V 61 am thinking of going away to-morrow, Sir,' said Duncan. The knife fell from my mother's hand : she looked him steadily in the face for the space of a minute.—6 Duncan,' said she, her voice faltering, and the tears dropping from her eyes, eDuncan, I never durst ask you before, but I hope you will not leave us altogether V Duncan thrust the plate from before him into the middle of the table—took up a book that lay on the window, and looked over the pages—Mary left the room. No answer was returned, nor any further inquiry made, and our little party broke up in silence. When we met again in the evening, we were still all sullen. My father said, ' You will soon forget us, Duncan ; but there are some among us who will not so soon forget you.' Mary again left the room, and silence ensued until the family were called to gether for evening worship. The next morning, after a restless night, Duncan rose early, put on his best suit, and packed up some little articles to carry with him. I lay panting and trembling, but pretended to be fast asleep. When he was ready to depart, he took his bundle below �20 Duncan Campbell. his arm, came up to the side of the bed, and listened if I were sleeping. He then stood long hesitating, looking wistfully at the door, and then to me alternately ; and I saw hint three or four times wipe his eyes. At length Re shook me gently by the shoulder, and asked if I were awake. I feigned to start, and answered as if half asleep. ' I must bid you farewell,' said he, groping to get hold of my hand. 'Will you not breakfast with us, Duncan,' said I. ' No,' said he, ' I am thinking that it is best to steal away, for it will break my heart to take leave of your parents and—'. 'And who, Duncan?' said I. 'And you,' said he: 'indeed but it is best, Duncan !' said I, we will all breakfast together for the last time, and then take a formal and kind leave of each other.' We did breakfast together, and as the conversation turned on former days, it became highly interesting to us all.—When my father had returned thanks to Heaven for our meal, we knew what was coming, and began to look at each other* Duncan rose, and after we had all loaded him with our blessings and warmest wishes, he embraced my parents and me. He turned about. His eyes said plainly there was somebody still wanting, but his heart was so full he could not speak. ' What is become of Mary V said my father :—Mary was gone. We searched the house, the garden, and the houses of all the eottagers, but Mary was nowhere to be found. Poor lovelorn, forsaken Mary ! She had hid herself in the ancient yew that grows in front of the old ruin, that she might see her lover depart, without Ijerself being seen, and might indulge in all the luxury of woe. I must pass over Duncan's journey to the north Highlands, for want of room ; but on the evening of the sixth day after leaving my father's house, he reached the mansion-house of Glenellich, which stands in a little beautiful woody strath, command- �21 Duncan Campbell. ing a view of the Deu, Caledonian Sea, and part of the Hebrides ; every avenue, tree, and rock, was yet familiar to Duncan's recollection. He had, without discovering himself, learned from a peasant that his father was still alive, but that he had never overcome the loss of his son, for whom he lamented every day. Duncan could not think of ought to detain him; and, being desirous of seeing how matters went on about the house, thought it best to remain some days incog. He went into the kitchen, conversed freely with the servants, and soon saw his step-mother and sister appear. The former had all the insolence and ignorant pride of vulgarity raised to wealth and eminence; the other seemed naturally of an amiable disposition, but was entirely ruled by her mother, who taught her to disdain her father, all his relations, and whomsoever he loved. On the same evening he came into the kitchen, where she then was chatting with Duncan, to whom she seemed attached at first sight. Lexy, my dear, said he, did you see my spectacles? Yes, said she, I think I saw them on your nose to-day, at breakfast. Well, but I have lost them since, said he. You may take up the next you find then, sir, said she.—The servants laughed. " I might well have known what information I would get of you," said he, regretfully. " How can you speak in such a style to your father, my dear lady ?" said Duncan. " It ill becomes so pretty a young lady to address an old father thus." " He," said she, " is a dotard, an old complaining, superannuated being, worse than a child." " But consider his years," said Duncan, "and besides he might have met with crosses and losses sufficient to sour the temper of a younger man. You should, at all events, pity and reverence, but never despise your father." The old lady now joined them. " You have yet heard nothing, *Toung man," said the old l a i r d i f �32 Duncan Campb elk you saw how my heart is sometimes wrung! Yes, I have had losses indeed." " You, losses!" said his spouse, " No ; you never had any losses that did not in the end turn out a vast profit." " Do you then count the loss of a loving wife and a son nothing?" said he. " B u t have you not got a loving wife and daughter in their room ? " returned she ; "the one will not waste your fortune as a prodigal son would have done, and the other will take care of both you and that, when you can do neither —the loss of your son, indeed! it was the greatest blessing you could have." " Unfeeling woman ! " said he, " but Heaven may yet restore that son to protect the grey hairs of his old father, and lay his head in an honoured grave."—The old man cried like a child : his lady mimicked him—and, at this, his daughter and servants raised a laugh. " Inhuman wretches ! " said Duncan, starting up, and pushing them aside, " thus to mock the feelings ot an old man, even although he were not the lord and master of you all: but take notice, the individual among you all that dares to offer such another insult to him, I'll roast on that fire ! " The old man elung to him, and looked him ruefully in the face. " You impudent beggarly vagabond!" said the lady, " do you know to whom you speak ?—Servants, turn that wretch out of the house, and hunt him with all the dogs in the kennel." " Softly, good lady," said Duncan, " take care that I do not turn you out of the house." u Alas! good youth," said the old laird, " you little know what you are about; you are brewing vengeance both for yourself and me." " Fear not," said Duncan, " I will protect you with my life." " Pray, may I ask you what is your name ? " said the old man. " That you may," replied Duncan, " no man has so good a right to ask any thing of me as you have—I am Duncan Campbell, your own son !" " M-m-m-my �23 Duncan Campbell. son!" exclaimed the old man, and sunk back on a seat with a convulsive moan. Duncan held him in his arms—he soon recovered, and asked many incoherent questions-—looking at the two moles on his right leg—kissed him,9 and then wept on his bosom for joy. " O God of heaven !" said he, " I thank thee heartily, for I have found my son ! my dear and only son ! " Every thing was committed to the management of Duncan, and he soon discovered, that besides a good clear estate, his father had personal funds to a great amount. The halls and cottages of Glenellich were filled with feasting, joy and gladness. It was not so at my father's house. Scarcely had our feelings overcome the shock, which they received by the loss of Duncan, when a more terrible misfortune overtook us. My father, by the monstrous ingratitude of a friend, whom we trusted, lost at once the greater part of his hard-earned fortune. We were all sitting in our little room one day, consulting what was best to be done, when two men came riding sharply up by the back of the old school house. " Yonder are the officers of justice now," said my mother, " what shall we do ? " We hurried to the window, and soon-discerned that they were no other than some attorney accompanied by a sheriff's officer. * My mother entreated my father to hide himself until this first storm was overblown, but he would in nowise consent; so finding all our entreaties vain, we could do nothing but sit down and weep. At length we heard the noise of their horses at the door. The qfficer, afraid lest his debtor should make his escape, jumped lightly from his horse, and hasted into the house. When we heard his footsteps approaching along the entry, our hearts fainted within us—he opened the door and stepped into the room—it was �24 Duncan Campbell. Duncan ! our own dearly beloved Duncan ! My father ran and got hold of one hand, and I of the other—my mother too, soon had him in her arms, but our embrace was short; for his eyes were fixed on Mary, who stood trembling with joy and wonder in a corner of the room, changing her colour every moment—he snatched her up in his arms and kissed her lips, and, ere she was aware, her arms had encircled his neck. " O my dear Mary!" said he, " my heart has been ill at ease since I left you; but, you little elusive rogue, you owe me another, for the one you cheated me out of then." Duncan then recounted his adventures to us, with every circumstance of his good fortune—our hearts were uplifted almost past bearing—all our cares and sorrows were now forgotten, and we were once more the happiest little group that ever perhaps sat together. Before the cloth was laid for dinner, Mary ran out to put on her white gown, and* comb her yellow hair, but was surprised at meeting with a smart young gentleman in the kitchen, with a scarlet neck on his coat, and a gold-laced hat. Mary having never seen so fine a gentleman, made him a low courtesy, and offered to conduct him to the room ; but he smiled, and told her he was the squire's servant. Duncan and Mary walked for two hours in the garden that evening; we do riot know what passed between them, but the next day he asked her in marriage of my parents. I need not tell my readers that my father's affairs were soon retrieved, or that I accompanied my dear Mary a bride to the Highlands, and had the satisfaction of saluting her as Mrs. Campbell, and lady of Glenellich. 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Duncan ! our own dearly beloved Duncan ! My father ran and got hold of one hand, and I of the other—my mother too, soon had him in her arms, but our embrace was short; for his eyes were fixed on Mary, who stood trembling with joy and wonder in a corner of the room, changing her colour every moment—he snatched her up in his arms and kissed her lips, and, ere she was aware, her arms had encircled his neck. " O my dear Mary !" said he, "my heart has been ill at ease since I left you; but, you little elusive rogue, you owe me another, for the one you cheated me out of then." Duncan then recounted his adventures to us, with every circumstance of his good fortune—our hearts were uplifted almost past bearing—all our cares and sorrows were now forgotten, and we were once more the happiest little group that ever perhaps sat together. Before the cloth was laid for dinner, Mary ran out to put on her white gown, and* comb her yellow hair, but was surprised at meeting with a smart young gentleman in the kitchen, with a scarlet neck on his coat, and a gold-laced hat. Mary having never seen so fine a gentleman, made him a low courtesy, and offered to conduct him to the room ; but he smiled, and told her he was the squire's servant. Duncan and Mary walked for two hours in the garden that evening , we do not know what passed * between them, but the next day he asked her in marriage of my parents. I need not tell my readers that my father's affairs were soon retrieved, or that I accompanied my dear Mary a bride to the Highlands, and had the satisfaction of saluting her as Mrs. Campbell, and lady of Glenellich. William Walker, Printer, Otley. THE HISTORY AND HIS AND T H E AN INTERESTING S C O T T I S H TALE, OTLEY P i l l N T E D BY W I L L I A M W A L K E R . s �W-16 Duncan Campbell. sister Mary, who was. older than I, was already an accurate and elegant reader. This reminds me of another anecdote of Duncan, with a regard to family worship, which I have often heard related, and which I myself may well remember. My father happened to be absent overnight at a fair; when the usual time of worship arrived, my mother desired a lad, one of the servants, to act as chaplain that night; the lad declined it, and slunk away to his bed. My mother testified her regret that we should be obliged to go prayerless to our beds for that night, observing that she did not remember the time when it so happened before. Duncan said he thought we might contrive to manage it amongst us, and instantly proposed to sing the psalm and pray, if Mary would read the chapter. To this my mother, with some hesitation, agreed, remarking, that if he prayed as he could, with a pure heart, his prayer had as good a chance of being accepted as some others that were better worded. Duncan could not then read, but having learned several psalms from Mary by rote, h« caused her to seek out the place, and sung the 23rd Psalm from end to end with great sweetness and decency. Mary read a chapter in the New Testament, and then (my mother having a child on her knee) we three kneeled in a row, while Duncan prayed thus: ' O Lord, be thou our God, our guide and our guard unto death, and through deatk!' that was a sentence my father often used in prayer; Duncan had laid hold of it, and my mother began to think that he had often prayed previous to that time.— < O Lord, thou—' continued Duncan, but his matter was exhausted ; a long pause ensued, which I at length broke, by bursting into a loud fit of laughter. . Duncan rose hastily, and without once lifting up his head, went crying to his bed; and as I continued to indulge in laughter, my mother, for my sn q ; m qoiqAS. <os ®q o; iaq paAarpq j pus UBOUUQ ;sBaj <qsii«d aq; ui \i\2 ;sai;;aid aq; ;ou SBAV ji puB 5 a{q«gB P ^ B 'Xpraoo SBM. aq —aSB UB jo'^iBau aia* UBOUUQ put? aqg -;UB;SIS -SB .mo u9}jo SUM. 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UBOUUQ si2 pa;qSipp os treui laAa^j *i£;rab -i;uB jo saoiaq aq) jo ;qSiui ajq«Apouooui aq; ;B SuiiapuoAV puB 'uara poo# jo JB puB sSuqiBj aq; {J iaAO SuidaaA tfiaq;aSo; sinoq I J ajqig aq; ui \x\o(\u O ia;duqa puai pu-e ^opuam J uioa aq; jo apis aq; O Iq 'piujd auius aq; lapun um\ e j puu faq puu aA-eq ua;jQ ^uauiasnui-B ;UB;SUOD JUO AVOII sbai ;I jo Suip-eaj aq; ^ q ; ^io;siq a^qtg Suip^ai jo aq SB/A puoj os puis i ^lo-BDidsjad ui a«u pa[poxa J J B UBOUUQ ;ng •X;qto,Bj ajqEiapisuoo q ; m a^qig aq; puai q;oq p|noo a^v f jauirans ;xau SMOO aq; pjaq o; poqos IUO.IJ pa^-eoai aiarn a \ ^ q ; auii; aq; A *pa||aj ipuau uaaq puq J qoiqAV xoj 'udfimd ssdjdm siq I J niiq O Suisnqu puu caq uuq; xapnoj uaAa fu^ounQ xd^p paq £ui o; SuiXia ;uaAv j ^{i ^{Suipaaoxa pa;uu -luna; suoi;oAap ^uiuaAa mo f sSuo; aq; q^m siap -jnoqs aq; ssoiou aui 5joni;s 'inoiA^qaq ;ua.iaAa.ui L\ 24 •HdqdmvQ unomifj Duncan Campbell. Duncan ! our own dearly beloved Duncan ! My father ran and got hold of one hand, and I of the other—my mother too, soon had him in her arms, but our embrace was short; for his eyes were fixed on Mary, who stood trembling with joy and wonder in a corner of the room, changing her colour every moment—he snatched her up in his arms and kissed her lips, and, ere she was aware, her arms had encircled his neck. " O my dear Mary!" said he, "my heart has been ill at ease since I left you; but, you little elusive rogue, you owe me another, for the one you cheated me out of then." Duncan then recounted his adventures to us, with every circumstance of his good fortune—our hearts were uplifted almost past bearing—all our cares and sorrows were now forgotten, and we were once more the happiest little group that ever perhaps sat together. Before the cloth was laid for dinner, Mary ran out to put on her white gown, and* comb her yellow hair, but was surprised at meeting with a smart young gentleman in the kitchen, with a f Duncan Campbell. IS mp to Duncan's den, smelled upon him, then upon Oscar,—cocked his tail, walked round them growling, and then behaved in a very improper and uncivil manner to Duncan, who took all patiently, uncertain whether he was yet discovered. But so intent was the fellow upon the farmer's intelligence, that he took no notice of the discovery made by the dog, but ran off without looking over his shoulder. Duncan felt this a deliverance so great that all his other distresses vanished; and as soon as the man was out of his sight, he arose from his covert and ran over the moor, and ere it was long, came to a shepherd's house, where he got some whey and bread for his breakfast, which he thought the best meat he had ever tasted, yet shared it with Oscar. Though I had his history from his own mouth, yet there is a space here which it is impossible to relate with any degree of distinctness or interest. He was a vagaband boy, without any fixed habitation, and wandered about Heriot Moor, from one farm-house to another, for the space of a year ; staying from one to twenty nights in each house, according as he found the people kind to him. He seldom resented any indignity offered to himself, but whoever insulted Oscar, or offered any obser* vations on the impropriety of their friendship, lost Duncan's company next morning. He staid several months at a place called Dewar, which he said was haunted by the ghost of a piper. The piper had been murdered there many years before, in a manner somewhat mysterious, or at least unaccountable ; and there was scarcely a night in which he was *iot supposed either to be seen or heard about the house. 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I feigned to start, and answered as if half asleep. ' I must bid you farewell,' said he, groping to get hold of my hand. ' W i l l you not breakfast with us, Duncan,' said I. ' No,' said he, 51 am thinking that it is best to steal away, for it will break my heart to take leave of your parents and—'. 'And who, Duncan?' said I. 'And you,' said he: 'indeed but it is best, Duncan !' said I, we will all breakfast together for the last time, and then take a formal and kind leave of each other.' W e did breakfast together, and as the conversation turned on former days, it became highly interesting to us all.—When my father had returned thanks to Heaven for our meal, we knew what was coming, and began to look at each other* Duncan rose, and after we had all loaded him with our blessings and warmest wishes, he embraced my parents and me. H e turned about. His eyes said plainly there was somebody still wanting, but his heart was so full he could not speak. ' What is become of Mary V said my father :—Mary was gone. W e searched the house, the garden, and the houses of all the cottagers, but Mary was nowhere to be found. Poor lovelorn, forsaken Mary ! She had hid herself in the ancient yew that grows in front of the old ruin, that she might see her lover depart, without ^erself being seen, and might indulge in all the luxury of woe. I must pass over Duncan's journey to the north Highlands, for want of room; but on the evening of the sixth day after leaving my father's house, he reached the mansion-house of Glenellich, which stands in a little beautiful woody strath, command- -ua£ puB ;uids po^uu-gpun siq 9jiqi& ^jqipaioin ;soua -[B si p9ss9ssod {BunuB siq; qoiqk X^IOBSBS a q ^ •£J;UBSSOOUI SXB9 siq £ui3i«QS pUB 'S9piS jp2 U SuiddBUS ^Sui|891|A\. *S99Q PJIA1 JO O puop SuiAOra B ui p9A]OAUl IB9S() 8ui99S <8U0p 9ABq J SB XP;B.I9pOUIUIl OS SUIQ#NBJ 10 'P9SS9U;IAL I9A9 J 9U90S XUB XQ p9^I9Aip qOUUI OS $Ul9q I 9 A 9 JO I9qui9ui9i ;ou op J *PPIJ oq; tro I ; I B D mo jo ; U B -;Bquioo ;SB| 9q; SIbavjb SBAi9q 'sojipp j9A\oj siqui ;u9uiSpo[,B 9pBiu Xui9u9 9q; j o 9U0U ;Bq; popiAoxd puB f9ouB;sissB jno o; 91UBD IBOSQ F S;U9LU9&SLI0 9)B.i9ds9p 9S9q; {{B u j *^BP I 9 ; J B XBp 'JJO sn ; ^ 9 Q NOQ^ ^I9A9 UI—q;BAVS ^I9A9 UI jSOUipS 9I9A^ Xoq; f 89Aiq q;iAv pgpunoqB sA\.opB9ui s^ioq^Bj ij\[ UBOUUQ uaq^ uvounq f Duncan Campbell. Duncan Campbell• P[UOA\ X o q ; ' 9 B I B { SBAI IUIBAVS 9 Q ; QSUGD O ; ASJIJ SBAI UBOUUQ lood puB 'uotsnjuoo UI'SBAI N Y *P9IPPUB <I\I U O ^ SBAi ;UUB siq ^9^JB S^Bp *Ai9J 1 Uf '^UUp 10 ^B9UI 3 I9q^i9 niB^qopjuoo 9q ;Bq; ^pi0|gip4B9ig q^iM AVOU SB^^j - % s i B q uiiq p9sn ^nq ; miq p9Aofi9A9u l 9 q ; puB <ui9q; o; 9^JBqo [BuopippB UB SBA3l 9JJ •UBDUUQ p9piB^9I I9A9U pUH Xq XpUB^SU03 %doy[ spiBui 9q;—^Bp 9UO \\i Apui91^x9 Ai9iS 9qg •90UBpU9^B Siq pduiOD 0} }U9SpipUl 00; SBM ^UUB siq PUB 'jooqos 9q^ ^B Suipu9^B j o iCjqSiq 9AOiddB ^ U pip 9JJ '^UIUIB9I UF SS9lSoxd ^918 91[BUI *ou O pip 9q ^nq 'qSinqutpg in IB9IC B PIB^S UBOUUQ t"\i Opiq *BUUBO ^ ! B 9 Q Am (uu, 'UBOUUQ piBS / U I B ^ B IBOSQ is9uoq jood Jim 99s J9A9U JJIAi J, -;UBAI9S piBS IlOi ^smq Q^II SBAI ^iB9q siq ftp p9iio UBOUUQ •p9{AVoq pUB UAVop ^BS U9qi 9q f fpq v j o do; oq^ p9qOB9J[ 9q jpuu *90UB^Stp B ^B p9A^C>nOJ [{^S IBOSQ • B V opoj pUB tf;UBAI9S B 9I0J9q p9;UU0UI U O XAB U -UUQ c j 3B0SQ IB9p Am fUOiC SS9iq P°£) pOO£) , 'Suuoqqnjq pmS / I B O S Q f 9iq poor), -uitq p9ssi5{ puBp9^§nq f5[09u 9q; punoiB uiiq ^qSuBO o j j •S9i£9 siq q^oq popui^q Xp^Bipguiuii sj'B9^ 9q; 'qOBJ oq; ui X [ P J 9 U I raiq Suinooj SUIPUB^S JBOSQ ^ B S aq U9qiii ;uq f ^boj spB^q 9q; jo' ;qSuoq; XpoiBOs U9A9 9q ;Bq; posoddus ouios puB f 9pii 9q; j o puoj S A 9 JJ *S;UBAI9S 9q; JO &IB JO JOU 'l9q;BJ Siq JO %0U BV -99tiii;sis -9.1 p9uiuu9;9p ;soui 9q; Suii9;unoou9 ;noq;m ;oo qSuoq; 's;99^s p9;B{nuiuooB I9q |[B p9^ii pu« b order to ask what was the matter, but he could only answer them by exclaiming, ' Oh dear ! Oh dear!' and struggling till he got free, held on his course, careless whither he went, provided he got far enough from the horrid scene he had so lately witnessed. Some have supposed, and I believe Duncan has been heard to confess, that he then imagined he^was running for the Highlands, but mistook the direction . However that was, he continued his course until he came to a place where two roads met, a little south of Grange Toll. Here he sat down, and his frenzied passion subsided into a soft melancholy ;—he cried no more, but sobbing excessively, fixed his eyes on the ground, and made some strokes in the dust with his finger. A sight just then appeared, which somewhat cheered, or at least interested his heavy and forlorn heart—it was a large^ drove of Highland cattle. They were the only creatures like acquaintances that Duncan had Seen for a twelvemonth, and a tender feeling of joy, mixed with regret, thrilled his heart at the sight of their white horns and broad dew-laps. As the van passed him, he thought their l o o k s were particularly gruff and sullen; he s o o n perCeiVedthe cause, they were all in the hands of Englishmen; poor exiles like himself; going far away to be killed and eaten, and would never see the Highland hills again. When they were all gone by, Duncan looked after them, and wept anew ; but his attention was suddenly called away to something that softly touched his feet; he looked hastily about—it was a poor hungry lame dog, squatted on the ground, licking his feet and manifesting the most extravagant joy. Gracious Heaven! it was his own beloved and faithful Oscar ! starved, emaciated, and so crippled, that he was scarcely able to walk ! H e was now doomed to be the slave of a Yorkshire peasant, (who, jo jgdij oq; uodu urn; o; poouBqo UOI;BSI9AIIOO oq; n8HAV *s;uids j o .iB9j oq; IOJ U99q ;ou pBq ;i ji 'XddBq i|9;o|duiob U99q 9ABq ppoAV puB 'piiii{ XUB J uoi;BAiid ou ; p j 9 V <i9qui9ui9.i J S IBJ s y O A B •IBOSQ P1113 - U U Q q ; m p u 9 d s j p i p i f e p p u B ; q S i u i d d B q B JCUBIU puB 'AV0^9J-p9q siq 9q p 9 p B u s i 9 d 9 q qoiqAv UAVO X u i SB u i i q o; p9;;iuii9d C ;S9NBOI p9A0"[ j IOJ u ^ o Km f '9Sin o ; 9UI ; B 'SBAV J -9ji[ u i o ; ; B d B 9 i u o ; SBA\ p i p 1 0 p i B S UBOUUQ ; B q ; \ye ' p 9 9 p u j -9UIBS 9 i { ; JO ouo ; o S j u ; u n 90B9d 9ABq u i 9 q ; ; 9 [ ; o u p [ u o A v j ; B q ; SuiuiiBqo qoiqAV u i i ;buuoq PUBJQSIJJ 9 p ; I [ ;IBUIS I x u i q ; q S n o q p u B B 'PSSNIP ou(q ui os p95[0G{ o q s s 9 i p rniq pgq;op 'uos imo Jt9t{; U99q p B q o q j i SB u i i q IOJ u i 9 o u o o 91UBS 9 q ; JOBJCI; p 9 u i 9 9 s u o o s oqAv f s ; u 9 i B d -oui o ; p 9 ; « 9 d 9 i t i 9 9 q s ^ i ^ u g A p ' s .osoq; 9ABq u 9 ; j o ; n q f uoi;BiiuipB puB i9puoA\ q;m pifAi 9q; j o uoi;B;iqBq 9q; p9{iBssB *90u«pnpi ; n o q ; m <.i9qumu m o o; raiq poppB q;iA\q;io| pmi 's9pis siq uop9;uiBd 919Ai ;Bq; sdoip 5>|4im! puB sopBqs ^uji;uB9q 9q; p9JiuipB '9A00 X i 9 ; m ®iq p o u 9 ; s i { p u B ' L ; m d 9 q ; j o S^BAV^ SBAY J uioij uiiq p90J0j 9 V i suoi;BuiqoBiu mo 9pnp % m A < PTUoo f;iB siij JIB q;iAV ';no.i; p9j^09ds 9q; ;Bq^ p u B ' ; q S i s ; s i ^ 9 q ; ; B UBOUUQ O ; ; i U 5 [ SBAV ; i B 9 q - S ^ B p \BIO -A9s IOJ UBOUUQ q ; m 9 S i 9 A u o o u B q ; o s p S u i q ; XUB op XpoiBOs pjuoo 'iB{uoi;iBd u i o ; p u p [ os s ; u 9 i B d Am •U99S 1 9 A 9 9 A B q j Ad\\oo c i 9 q ; o u i &j/s[ AVBS J u o q A i Aot -uiiq IOJ ; d 9 A i J ( u j i ; u B 9 q ; s o u i o q ; SBAI p u B �t L " r.L il. l ' i x a ' j ';q£is ;siij: ; B paqo-B;;!? paraaas aqs uioqAV o ; 'UBOUUQ q;iAV Sui;;i2qa S A u a q ; aqs aiaqAV 'uaqo;i3f BV a q ; o;ui auiBO aq SuiuaAa auras a q ; u q 'paAOj aq laAaosuioqAV pire ' s u o i ; ^ p i siq 'iaq;i2j.iaq uiBpsip o ; i a q ;qSni2; oqAV 'iaq;oui i a q p a p i £p.n;ua SBAV ;nq 'uoi;isodsip ajqBiurB ub jo iCjpi^Bu paraaas i a q ; o aq; aauauiuia pu'B q;paA\. o ; pasrei £;ii«8piA j o a p u d ;UBIOU3I pu-e aouapsui a q ; j p P 121 ! ^ t u i o j aqjL -maddis ia;sis p u s iaq;oui-da;s sxq AUZS UOOS puB 's;uBAias aq; q;iAViCpajj pasiaAuoo 'uaqo;i:5{ aq; o;ui ;uaA\ a j j -Sooui sX-ep anios ureuia.i 03 ;saq ; i ; q S n o q ; 'asnoq aq; ;noqra no ;uaA\. sia;;Bra Avoq Supas j o snoiisap Supq 'puB uiiq urepp o; ; q 8 n o j o 5{uiq; ; o u ppoo u'BOuhq -£ep jCiaAa pa;uauiBj a q uioqM. i o j ' u o s siq j o ssoj aq; araoqiaAo iaAau pBjq aq ; B q ; ;nq 'aAip jji;s SBAY iaq;Bj siq ;Bq; ;uBs^ad « UIOJJ paumaj 'jpsuiiq SuiiaAoosip ;noq;iAi 'psq a j j 'uoipajpoai s6irBounQ o; IBIJIUIBJ ;a£ 'ipox pui2 'aai; 'anuaA-B XiaAa F s a p i i q a j j a q ; SBAV j o ;x«d puB '^ag u-BiuopapQ ' n a ( j a q ; j o jaaiA 1 3 m 3 •aouBpua;;t> siq pdraoo o; ; u a S p p u i 00; s-bai ;urm siq puB 'poqas aq; ; s Suipiia;;T> jo ^qSiq aAOidd« * o n PIP 9 H 'SuiniBaj ut ssaiSoid ;sa 18 a^rn ;ou pip aq ;nq 'q&mquipg in maiC < pm)s u^boutiq b / ; i apiq -euu^a Xui 'todutiq pi^s /uiBS'B i'Bosoisauoq joodiuiaas iaAau \\ija 1, ^xreAias aq; pres ^ noi spB ^Bq^, ^sjiiq o; aifij sbav siq pauo u^oudq •pajAVoq pu^ uAvop uaq; aq f j'jiq v jo do; aq; paqo-eaj aq |i;un 'aou^stp -b paAionoj [yqs iuosq •£bau> apoj puu <;u®ax9s 1 aiojaq pa;u'nom mo 2 'Uxxq ( j a^oso i^ap ira ssaiq pox) tfaXq poor), 'Suuaqqiqq preS /i^osq ^ q poor), -raiq passim puB pa^nq ^oau aq^ punoi-B uiiq ;q^riBO a j j •saiCa siq q;oq papuijq iCp^ipatnuii sj^a; aq; 'ao«j aq; ui unq Suii{00| Suipu^s jbdsq ^bs aq uaqAv ;nq f 5p*>jq aq; jo' ;q§noq; ^aoi^os uaAa aq ;-Bq; pasoddns araos pu-B 'apu aq; jo pnoj sbav a j j *s;u^Aias aq; jo jo ion 'iaq;^j siq jo %ou iqSnoq; aq 'auioq aAi;-Bu siq ;ja^ u^ouiiq u a q ^ I z> 'HdqdiuvQ umun(j 7idqdwvQ uvounq 20 Duncan Campbell• Duncan Campbell. f & his arm, came up to the side of the bed, and listened if I were sleeping. He then stood long hesitating, looking wistfully at the door, and then to me alternately ; and I saw hint three or four times wipe his eyes. At length he shook me gently by the shoulder, and asked if I were awake. I feigned to start, and answered as if half asleep. ' I must bid you farewell,' said he, groping to get hold of my hand. 'Will you not breakfast with us, Duncan,' said I. ' No,' said he, ' I am thinking that it is best to steal away, for it will break my heart to take leave of your parents and—'. 'And who, Duncan?' said I. 'And you,' said he: 'indeed but it is best, Duncan !' said I, we will all breakfast together for the last time, and then take a formal and kind leave of each other.' We did breakfast together, and as the conversation turned on former days, it became highly interesting to us all.—When my father had returned thanks to Heaven for our meal, we knew what was coming, and began to look at each other. Duncan rose, and after we had all loaded him with our blessings and warmest wishes, he embraced my parents and me. He turned about. His eyes said plainly there was somebody still wanting, but his heart was so fullhe could not speak. ' Whatis become of Mary?' said my father :—Mary was gone. We searched the house, the garden, and the houses of all the cottagers, but Mary was nowhere to be found. Poor lovelorn, forsaken Mary ! She had hid herself in the ancient yew that grows in front of the old ruin, that she might see her lover depart, without Ijerself being seen, and might indulge in all the luxury of woe. I must pass over Duncan's journey to the north Highlands, for want of room; but on the evening of the sixth day after leaving my father's house, he reached the mansion-house of Glenellich, which stands in a little beautiful woody strath, command- order to ask what was t he matter, but he could only answer them by exclaiming, ' Oh dear ! Oh dear!' and struggling till he got free, held on his course, careless whither he went, provided he got far enough from the horrid scene he had so lately witnessed. Some have supposed, and I believe Duncan has been heard to confess, that he then imagined he ^was running for the Highlands, but mistook the direction. However that was, he continued his course until he came to a place where two roads met, a little south of Grange Toll. Here he sat down, and his frenzied passion subsided into a soft melancholy ;—he cried no more, but sobbing excessively, fixed his eyes on the ground, and made some strokes in the dust with his finger. A sight just then appeared, which somewhat cheered, or at least interested his heavy and forlorn heart-^-it was a large^ drove of Highland cattle. They were the only creatures like acquaintances that Duncan had seen for a twelvemonth, and a tender feeling of joy, mixed with regret, thrilled his heart at the sight of their white horns and broad dew-laps. As the van passed him, he thought their looks were particularly gruff and sullen; he soon perceived the cause, they were all in the hands of Englishmen; poor exiles like himself; going far away to be killed and eaten, and would never see the Highland hills again. When they were all gone by, Duncan looked after them, and wept anew ; but his attention was suddenly called away to something that softly touched his feet; he looked hastily about—it was a poor hungry lame dog, squatted on the ground, licking his feet and manifesting the most extravagant joy. Gracious Heaven! it was his own beloved and faithful Oscar ! starved, emaciated, and so crippled, that he was scarcely able to walk ! He was now doomed to be the slave of a Yorkshire peasant, (who, - uaS puts ;uids pa^n-gpun siq ajiqAV 'ajqipaiom ;soua -pa si passassod p u i i u ^ siq; qoiq^ ^io-bSbs aqj^ jo j a d i j aq; uodn um; o; paoiraqo u0i;issiaAii0D aq; u a q ^ *s;uids jo iBaj aq; I J uaaq ;6u O ;i ji 'XddBq Ip;afduioa uaaq aA^q pynoAS. pun 'piii^ Xub J uoi;BAud ou ; p j a v 'laqraaiuai j sre J J s y O A B •XpuBssaom sjrea s i q Sui3[«qs puts 'sapis 110 S m d d B u s ' S u i p a ^ A i ' s a a q pjiAi j o p n o p SUIAOUI - u i PAAJOAUI x'sasQ S u i a a s B 'auop aA-eq j S-B Aja^.iapouirai os Buiq^nraj 1 0 ' p a s s a u ; m iaAa j auaos £1112 I q p a ; i a A i p q o n m os 3 u i a q i a A a j o .iaquiama.1 ; o u op j -pjaig: a q ; uo i ; i « d m o j o ; u « -;Bquioo ;giq a q ; S&JAVJB s^Avaq ' s a j g a p jaA\.oj s i q u i ; u a u i § p o j « ap-BUi jCuiaua a q ; j o auou ; « q ; p a p i A o i d puB 'aouB;siss« mo o ; ara-BO I B D S Q 'sJuamaMkia a^.iadsap asaq; uj -iC-Bp i a ; j « Xtsp 'JJO sn P[UOA\ X a q ; 'aSi-BJ S A UIXBAVS a q ; n a q ^ BV XiaAa ui——q;i3A\.s i i a A a ui ^ s o m ^ aiaja X a q ; f 89Aiq q;iAv p a p u n o q e sAVopBaui s ^ i a q ^ j aautrnsys -a.i p a u i u u a ; a p ; s o u i a q ; Suiia^unooua ; n o q ; m ; o n q S n o q ; 's;aaAvs p a ^ n u m o o B l a q {['B p a p u p u * 'daq PJIAV a q ; j o u o i ^ i q - B Q a q ; pajress-B a ^ -aou^oupj ; n o q ; m f jaqiiinu m o o ; u i i q p a p p B q ; i A v q ; i o j pnts 'sapis iC^aap siq uo p a ; u i ^ d aiaAi sdoip p u « s a p ^ q s piji;w3aq a q ; paiiuip'B 'aAOO X i a ; m ® i q UIOJJ uiiq p a o i o j aAV suoi; , Buiqo'Bin m o a p n p %ou p p o o ';IB siq [ye q;IAV ';no.i; pa^OADS a q ; ; « q ; '^ISKI - x a os s i a q s y AvaiS a ^ •japuns'B aAi^ ; o u p[noc» oik — j pip os—lauiums aq; s^oo sfiiaq;^j Urn papiaq ireounQ -q^ap jo ;j^qs Koi ppo aq; Xq paoiaid ji S sn uiq;m 5juns s;maq mo puB 'uoi;oxu;sap B jo |[au3( aq; aijij sma mo ui papunos 'uoi;ii«dd« 10 ';uids ';soqS aui-Bu aq; j pjp'Baip qo j ;soqS « ;nq uiiq jo piBij'B qonui ;ou aja^. a V ;nq 'ifp[;i«aq A ;soui iiAap aq; pa;i2q a ^ *S|ood auios;qSiij aq; UIOJJ joope ;da^[ siC-BMp puB 'saidp^-ia;^ aq; jo snoi-Baf ap;ij 1 aiaAv a V i sSuos Suiuirnqo pu'B i;n^aq 2 A Jiaq; jo ;unoooi2 uo 'spi-Buiiaui aq; iojiC;QBI;md ap;i| • * ; p j uaAa pu^ 'saiuAvoiq aq; pu'B saiii^j aq; paAOj B 'ps^oojjus Xjmau [i;un sp-Baq mo iaAO u ^ i p saq;op-paq aq; q;iAV UIBJ OAV aA^q ua;jo 'niW ou^s -apiqX jo J^ipaj aq; 10 'Bioy; jo pi«j\[ aq; 'a^AvaQ 81 'Hdqdiuwd IWDUUQ •I-BOSQ UB3 -uiiq q ; m puads j pip X^p pu-B ;qSiu M d i q v Xu^ui puis 'Avo^aj-paq siq aq o; pa;;iraiad 'aSm o; aui papBnsiad aq qoiq^v ';sanbai uavo iCui ;b 's^av J -aji[ uAio Am s^ uiiq paAOj j ioj ' u i a ; ; ^ 13 aiu o; s«a\ pip 10 piBS imounQ ;-Bq; 'paapuj *ara^s aq; jo auo ;oS j |i;un ao^ad aA'Bq uiaq; ;a{;ou ppum j ;^q; Suiuimqp os pa^ooj aq ssajp qoiqA\ ui i ;atiuoq puB^qSifj a^;;if ;muis -e unq ;qSnoq pu^ ';a^Sn.ip an(q ui ruiq paq;op 'uos imo itaq; uaaq p^q aq ji sb uiiq .ioj uiaouoa aui'BS aq; paj o; "pauiaas uoos oqAv 's;ua.it2d -aui o; pa;«adai tiaaq sam;uaAp« asaq; aA'Bq ua;jo ;nq < uoi;«iirapB puu .xapuoAi q;iAV paua;sq pu« 'l;md aq; jo s&mps j ^la -Aas ioj ubpuuq q;iAV asiaAuoo uisq; asp Suiq; Jim op XpaiBOs pjnoo 'm^noprnd ui fiaq;otu 'uiiq o; pui5[ os s;uamd £ui avbs j xiaiqAi Aot ioj ;daAv j puB ';qSis ;sig aq; ;i2 ubouuq o; ;in5[ s^At ;ieaq •uaas .iaAa aA'Bq j ^aypo pjt;n«aq;sotu aq; s-bai puB '^oau siq punoj mopo aui'BS aq; jo Sua ^ pu'B 'ao^j siq UAVop adn;s a;iqAV -b q;iAv 'xoj B jo mopo aq; ' pBq 'jpsuiiq s^ a&TB{ jCp^au s m mosQ *;*Baq Suipaj a^qisuas -b pu'B 'Xpoq iCq^aq 'B Sui^ads -aq/(nji;nBaq pue £ppm s a ao-Bj siq ;nq f ua;«aq -iaq;^aAi puB papna 'qSnoi s^av p^aq siq jo iiBq aq; i spaq siq o; Sunq cubui tmoiS-^nj b ioj apBtu uaaq SuiA-Bq qoiqA^ 'Xjuo ;bo0 ouo jo pa;sisuoo Suiq;op siq jo apqAV aqj^ ^Bp.ia;saiC jo suoip^sum; aq; s'B ^pAV s^ saou^;suinoip aq; j p iaq -uiamai j *asnoq s^iaqpj iCui o; auiBo ubouuq ;«q; ';saAiBq jo asop aq; ';qSiu Xurei -b uo s^av ; j •maq; q;m daap ppoqs Sop ' siq puis ^oq ;u«iBba -b ;Bq; asooqp sit2A\p ;ou pip s;uBAias aq; puis 'jpsuiiq iCq daap ;ou ;smp a j j "IpqdwoQ uvounQ �years 01 age, aner uemg uiiwen iscvwai uajo, he died one night below his master's bed. On the evening before, when Duncan came in from the plough, he came from his hiding-place, wagged his tail, licked Duncan's hand, and returned to his death-bed. Duncan and I lamented him with unfeigned sorrow, buried him below the old rowan tree at the back of my father's garden, placing a square stone at his head, which was still standing the last time I was there. With great labour we composed an epitaph between us, which was once carved on that stone : the metre was good, but the stone was so hard, and the engraving so faint, that the characters, like those of our early joys, are long ago defaced and extinct. Often have I heard my mother relate with enthusiasm, the manner in which she and my father first discovered the dawnings of goodness and facility of conception in Duncan's mind, though, I confess, dearly as I loved him, these circumstances escaped my observation. It was my father's invariable custom to pray with the family every night before they retired to rest, to thank the Almighty for his kind- Avopq ajpunq siq spo; aq <;:redap o; APBai sba aq 'daajSB ;SBJ aq o; papua;aid ;nq 'Suqquiai; puB 3ui;uBd £bj j -unq q ; m Aimo o; sapi;iB aj;;q auios du pa^oBd puB <;ras ;saq siq uo ;nd ^iBa asoi UBOUUQ f ;q£iu ssapsai B ia;JB 'Suiuiora ;xau aqj, •diqsioAV SuiuaAa J J iaq;a8 O o; payjBO aiaAV ^ j i u i b j aq; fi;un pansua aouaps puB 'UIOOI aq; ;ja[ UIBSB £IBJ\[ (-t\oA ;aSioj uoos os ;ou IJIAV OQAV sn SUOUIB auios aiB aiaq; ;nq i UBOUUQ fsn P S J O J uoos \\ija uo^, <piBS iaq;BJ Af^ -ua^us jp2 [H;s aiaAV a v fSuiuaAa aq; ui UIBSB ;am a V uaq^A A A •aouaps ui dn a^ojq £;iBd aj;;i[ .mo puB 'apBui Aimbui iaq;mj XUB IOU <pau.m;ai SBAV jaAvsuB OJSJ -uiooi —sa^Bd aq; jaAO paipoj puB fAvopuiA\ aq; uo £ J ;Bq; :spoq B dn }po;—AJQB; aq; jo ajppiui B aq; o;ui uiiq aiojaq raoij a;Bjd aq; ;smq; u b o u u q u .iaq;aSo;[B su aABaj ;ou JJIAV uoi adoq j ;uq tfa.iqj -aq no A 5[SB ;smp laAau j "UBOUUQ, 'saXa iaq uio.ij Suiddoip sxBa; aq; puB 'Suuajpj aoioA .iaq <aqs piBS / U B O U U Q y—-a;uuim B JO aoBds aq; JOJ aoBj aq; ui jCppBa;s unq paspoj aqs : puBq sc.iaq;ora £ra KXOJJ IPJ 9q,L 'UBOUUQ piBS / l l g fA\0II0Ul-0) fvVAW SuioS JO Sui^uiq; UIB J , J UBOUUQ "UOOS SU aABaj o; pua;ui ;ou op no A adoq j,—piBS jaq;BjiCm ' a s n B c I uajps puB 2uo\ B ja;jB caun; iauuip ;B ^BP axiQ •£rej\[ ia;sis Am jo asoq; ipiA\ paiBduioo uaqAV <£uiq;ou "iaAaA\oq faiaAv sSuiiaaj J O \iy U -;iBaq ;B 3pis ara apBui puauj .iBap Aui rao.ij pa;BiBdas Suiaq jo s;qSuoq; aq; .ioj atuoq ua\o iiaq; ;B piB;s pBq iaq; ;Bq; 10 "uioq uaaq .laAau pi?q $dijjdu aq; ;Bq; paqsm j <;iBd Jim 1 0 ^ •Sui;JBCI j o ^api aq; pauiB;.ia;ua aouo jaAau Xaq; "asuoq juo o; aiuBO sdindu ^uvjdou O V aq; qoiqAV uo ;Bq; o; tf;aui A; ;SIIJ i a q ; iBp aq; moij ;Bq; "aAaqaq ipuouas j piiB f UAVO iiaq; jo uos B SB auiooaq OSb Suo\ pBq aq" JOJ "uiiq q;iAV Sui;iBd ;B a;B{osuoosip aiaAV iaq; ;ai "aim; -jojpooS S 4 UBOUUQ UI paoiofai i^uiB;j:ao s;uaiBd i p j •uiiq jaAoosip ppioo ;Bq; uosiad A B O; paiaj|o uaaq U U81tA\ 61 J2 'ipqdwvj uvoiinQ in the dark, or any sudden noise, always deprives him of the power of speech for some time. After leaving Dewar, he went wandering about for a few weeks; and it appears that his youth, beauty, and peculiarly destitute situation, together with his friendship for his faithful Oscar, had interested the most part of the country people in his behalf, for he was generally treated with kindness. He knew his father's name, and the name of his house : but as none of the people he visited had ever before , heard of either the one or the other, they gave themselves no trouble about the matter. He staid nearly two years in a place he called Cowhaur, till a wretch, with whom he slept, struck and abused him one day. Duncan, in a rage, flew to the loft, and cut all his Sunday hat, shoes, and coat, in pieces ; and not daring to abide the consequences, decamped that night. He wandered about for some time longer among the farmers of Tweed and Yarrow ; but this life was now become exceedingly disagreeable to him. siq ; d a ^ ;uq (\\i%s poo;s i i b o u u q -uiiq o; SuixBp ;noq;m f ; u B i i ; siq jo s p a q a q ; ; b jCbavb pa.ia§&B;s puB 'paiaAooai j e l u i u b aqj^ •aussi aq; aq ppoAV ;i3qAV aas o; i[;uai;Bd pa;iBAV "Sop siq ;uoq;iA\. aj;;i| op ppoo aq ;Bq; S u m o i q 'iiBui aq; puB "q;Baiq siq laAooai ;q8iui aq ;Bq; pi2aq s(,a;ijnoA'Bj siq dn p p q a j j -uiiq ipiiB; ~.iao ppioAY aq u b u i Siq 12 AvaiS j p s r a i q aq iaAa ji ;Bq; puB *a;niq pnio « s b j a aq ;Bq; u b u i aq; S u q p ; f c p u B ipa;;iq SuidaaAV uoi;oB jo auaos aq; o; pa;sBq a | l j q p jo ;soui uiiq pa^ooqs i;iJBqiBq pa;iiaui -uu siq; ;uq ^ u b o u u q iood j o sifrnpaj aq; punoAS. o; pauiquioo pamaas aou«;sranoip a^qissod iiaAg •;aaj siq ; b ssapsuas aq f ^ b ; s ^oiq; -b q;m miq 5[om;s suoi;Boaidmi jCubui paxtj saia puiqaq ijooj S u u a ; ; n puB c iBa a q ; i q miq j o p p q ppq ;uBSBad aq; ;uq ^auu«ui Suuo^dmi puB aAissimqus ;sora aq; in q ; i B a aq; o; paiaiwoo j b o s q 'mi\{ ;aaui o; spBq Suiuuui amBo pu-B ^adBosa siq ;oajp o; pa;uBM aq paui^Buii c^OBq 5[oo^ puB iaSui^ o; raiq SuiAiasqo oq^ <ria;sBui Suipajun siq ia;jB ipuB;onpi Xbavb paduiq aq ^iaqosipo; Suii-Baj ; u q fpa^qmaiqriBOSQ qpo ipns puB pnoj - i q p^iuBduioooB tfpa;Bad b ~ai s b a v apsiqAV aqjQ /uBqjni u o i i u o j j am ;oa;oid ^ U B O U U Q O ^ 'SuiiBS Ji SB ^aoBj siq U I pa>[00^ puB f q S i q ; siq uodn pBaq siq pauBay ^mosoq s 6 ioq aq; o ; S u i S u i p puB 'punos a q ; Avau^; ibosq •pnops p a p s i q A V ;uBSBad aqj^ os ;ou u i b e*aiB u o i s b j ; u q c j p s i m ;Ba o; quinio -b ;ou aABq j , f a q piBS j,— 4 j . i b o s q -iood Am 'noA o a i S o; qmmo « ;ou aABq •aiojaq ; p j u n s S u i p a j q ; m ;iBaq siq paoiaid u i b S b qoiqAV ^s^oo]; s € puaiij siq ui pa;uiBd aiaA^ iiasira puB .laSunq ;Bq; paAiasqo uoos u b o u u q ;uq f s b a v slip uiiq; Supaara japua; aiora b aApouoo o; ajqissodini si ; j -jaAVod puB q;Suai;s ui uiiq o; loiiajui s b a v . i b o s q s b ^ i b o s q jo asoq; o; joiiajui s b aiaAV sSui -paj asoqAVjo aouapAauaq puB i;tsoiauaS aq; -jB^j ;b miq uap;s 10 ;qSnoq iaq;p pBq 'suiaas ;i *Hdqdhuvj w o y m q 9 Duncan Vampb elL you saw how my heart is sometimes wrung! Yes, I have had losses indeed." " You, losses!" said his spouse, " No ; you never had any losses that did not in the end turn out a vast profit." " Do you then count the loss of a loving wife and a son nothing ?" said he. " But have you not got a loving wife and daughter in their room ? " returned she ; "the one will not waste your fortune as a prodigal son would have done, and the other will take care of both you and that, when you can do neither —the loss of your son, indeed! it was the greatest blessing you could have." " Unfeeling woman ! " said he, " but Heaven may yet restore that son to protect the grey hairs of his old father, and lay his head in an honoured grave."—The old man cried like a child : his lady mimicked him—and, at this, his daughter and servants raised a laugh. " Inhuman wretches ! " said Duncan, starting up, and pushing them aside, " thus to mock the feelings ot an old man, even although he were not the lord and master of you all: but take notice, the individual among you all that dares to offer such another insult to him, I'll roast on that fire ! " The old man elung to him, and looked him ruefully in the face. " You impudent beggarly vagabond!" said the lady, " do you know to whom you speak ?—Servants, turn that wretch out of the house, and hunt him with all the dogs in the kennel." " Softly, good lady," said Duncan, " take care that I do not turn you out of the house." u Alas! good youth," said the old laird, " you little know what you are about; you are brewing vengeance both for yourself and me." " Fear not," said Duncan, " I will protect you with my life." " Pray, may I ask you what is your name ? " said the old man. " That you may," replied Duncan, " no man has so good a right to ask any thing of me as you have—I am Duncan Campbell, your own son !" " M«m-m-my DUNCAN CAMPBELL. ——^^o€xxg>og>o<i:i ! « • D u n c a n C a m p b e l l came from the Highlands, when six years of age, to live with an old maiden aunt in Edinburgh, and attend the school. His mother was dead ; but his father had supplied her place by marrying his house-keeper Duncan did not trouble himself about these matters, nor indeed about any other matters, save a black foal of his father's, and a large sagacious colley, named Oscar, which belonged to one of the shepherds. —With his garter tied round Oscar's neck, and a piece of deal tied to his big bushy tail, Duncan would often lead him about the green, pleased with the idea that he was conducting a horse and a cart. Oscar submitted to all this with gi^at cheerfulness, but whenever Duncan mounted to ride on him, he found means instantly to unhorse him, either by galloping, or rolling himself on the green. When Duncan threatened him, he looked submissive, and licked his face and hands ; when he corrected him with the whip, he cowered at his feet; —matters were soon made up. Oscar would lodge nowhere during the night but at the door of the room where his young friend slept, and woe befel the man or woman who ventured to enter in at untimely hours* �14 N Duncan Campbell. 5 a i erosity it would do honour to every servant of our own species to copy. Twice did he save his master's life : at one time when attacked by a furious bulj, and at another time when he fell from behind my father, off a horse into a flooded river. Oscar had just swimmed across, but instantly plunged in a second time to his master's rescue. He first got hold of his bonnet, but that coming off, he quitted it, and again catching him by the coat, brought him to the side, where my father reached him. He waked Duncan at a certain hour every morning, and would frequently turn the cows of his own will, when he observed them wrong. If Duncan dropped his knife, or any other small article, he would fetch it along in his mouth, and if sent back for a lost thing, would infallibly find it. When sixteen years of age, after being unwell for several days, he died one night below his master's bed. On the evening before, when Duncan came in from the plough, he came from his hiding-place, wagged his tail, licked Duncan's hand, and returned to his death-bed. Duncan and I lamented him with unfeigned sorrow, buried him below the old rowan tree at the back of my father's garden, placing a square stone at his head, which was still standing the last time I was there. With great labour we composed an epitaph between us, which was once carved on that stone : the metre was good, but the stone was so hard, and the engraving so faint, that the characters, like those of our early joys, are long ago defaced and extinct. Often have I heard my mother relate with enthusiasm, the manner in which she and my father first discovered the dawnings of goodness and facility of conception in Duncan's mind, though, I confess, dearly as I loved him, these circumstances escaped my observation. It was my father's invariable custom to pray with the family every night before they retired to rest, to thank the Almighty for his kind- Avopq ajpunq siq spo; aq <;iBdap o; XpBai SBAS. aq u a q ^ 'daajsB ;SBJ aq o; papua;aid ;nq 'Suqqiuai; puB Sui;uBd XBJ j -unq q;IAY £ U B O o; sapi;IB ap;q auios dn paspBd puB ^ras ;saq siq uo ;nd 'ipea asoi UBOUUQ c;q£iu ssapsai B ia;JB 'Suiuioui ;xau aqj, •diqsiOAY BuraaAa J J iaq;aS O o; pajpaa aiaAV XJIUIBJ aq; p;un pansua aauaps puB 'raooi aq; ;ja[ UIBSB JCIBJ\[ e-no£ ;aSioj uoos os ;ou jjm oqjw sn SUOUIB auios aIB aiaq; ;nq f uBaunQ csn pSioj uoos JJIAV no^, 'piBS iaq;Bj *ua{ps jp2 [ji;s aiaAv a v ^uiuaAa aq; ui UIBSB ;am a v uaq M A A •aauajis ui dn a^ojq £;.red ap;i[ ino puB 'apBui Xiinbui iaq;mj XUB JOU tfpaum;ai SBAY jaAVsuB OJSJ -uiooi aq; ;jaj —saB^d aq; iaAO pa^ooj puB fAVopuiA\ aq; uo X J ;Bq; ^ooq B dn ^00;—ajqB; aq; jo ajppiui B 9q; o;ui raiq aiojaq raoij a;Bjd aq; ;sniq; iiBaunQ d *iaq;ago;jB sn aABaj ;ou noi adoq j ;nq 'a.ioj -aq no£ ^SB ;sjnp laAau J 'uBamiQ, <sa£a iaq TIIO.IJ Buiddojp siBa; aq; pire <Sui.ia;p3j aoxoA .iaq <aqs piBS /UBOUUQ.,—*a;nuiui B J aa^'ds aq; I J aaBj aq; ui O O £ppBa;s raiq paspoj aqs : puBq sc.iaq;ora lux moij j p j ajimj aq£ *UBDUUQ pres / i i g fMonoui-o; £BA\B SUIOS jo Sui^uiq; UIB J , ^ UBOUUQ 'uoos sn ZAVM{ o; pua;ui ;ou op noX adoq j,—piBS iaq;BJ Xra 'astvBd uajps puB Suoj B ia;jB carai; lauuip ;B ^ p aiiQ •LIUJFT ia;sis Xra jo asoq; q;TAV, paiBdraoa uaqAV <£uiq;ou <iaAaA\oq faiaAV sBuiiaej jno \\y -;iBaq ^ais aui ap^ui puaiij .reap lui rao.ij pa;BiBdas Bupq jo s;qBnoq; aq; IOJ f amoq ua\O Jiaq; YJIB;S p^q ^aq; ;^q; JO f moq uaaq jaAan pt?q $9t)jdu aq; ;^q; paqsm j Xui 10^ -Bui;.rad jo Bapi aq; paure;ia;ua aauo jaAau iCaq; fasnoq jtio o; aiu^a sdindu 6uvpou O V aq; qaiqm uo ;i2q; o; c;aus A; ;SIT^ Xaq; X^p aq; moij ;^q; 'aAaipq ijsnouas j pue F UMO i p q ; jo uos B S auioaaq OSU Buo{ p^q aq ioj B 'unq q;iAV Bui;iBd ;B a;Bpsuoasip aiaAV jCaq; ;aI 'aim; -lojpooS S 4 UBOUUQ UI paoiofai i|uiB;.[aa s;ua.red XT^ •uiiq jaAoasip ppioa ;«q; uosiad A B O; paiayo uaaq U 61 11 The superstitious ideas impressed upon Duncan's mind by this unfortunate encounter with the ghost of the piper, seem never to have been eradicated,* a strong instance of the power of early impressions, and a warning how much caution is necessary in modelling the conceptions of the young and tender mind ; for of all men I ever knew, he is the most afraid of meeting with apparitions. So deeply is his imagination minted with this startling illusion, that even the calm disquisitions of reason have proved quite inadequate to the task of dispelling it. Whenever it wears late, he is always on the look out for these ideal beings, keeping a jealous eye upon every bush and brake, in case they should be lurking behind them, ready to fly out and surprise him every moment; and the approach of a person in the dark, or any sudden noise, always deprives him of the power of speech for some time. After leaving Dewar, he went wandering about for a few weeks; and it appears that his youth, beauty, and peculiarly destitute situation, together with his friendship for his faithful Oscar, had interested the most part of the country people in his behalf, for he was generally treated with kindness. He knew his father's name, and the name of his house : but as none of the people he visited had ever before , heard of either the one or the other, they gave themselves no trouble about the matter. He staid nearly two years in a place he called Cowhaur, till a wretch, with whom he slept, struck and abused him one day. Duncan, in a rage, flew to the loft, and cut all his Sunday hat, shoes, and coat, in pieces ; and not daring to abide the consequences, decamped that night. He wandered about for some time longer among the farmers of Tweed and Yarrow ; but this life was now become exceedingly disagreeable to him. paxij saXa siq ;da^ ;nq poo;s uBoun(j *unq puiqaq ^ooj o; BuiiBp ;noq;m f;uBiiC; siq jo spaq AQ^ ; B JCBAYB paia£BB;s puB cpaiaAoaai JBUIIUB aqj^ •anssi aq; aq ppoAV ;BqAi aas o; £[;uai;Bd pa;iBAV '.§op siq ;noq;m aj;;i| op ppoo aq ;Bq; SUIAYOU^ 'UBUI aq; puB 'q;Baiq siq laAoaai ;qSiui aq ;Bq; pi?aq s4a;unoABj siq dn p p q a j j -unq jjpi XpiiB; ~.iaa ppoAY aq UBUI Siq B AvaiS jpsuiiq aq iaAa ji ;Bq; puB 'a;niq p-nia B SBAI aq ;Bq; UBUI aq; Suijp; puB cXpa;;iq BuidaaAV tfuoi;aBjo auaas aq; o; pa;sBq Q¥l 'IF J° isora unq pa^poqs i;iiBq.iBq pa;iiaui -un siq; ;nq 'UBDUUQ iood jo sBuipaj aq; punoA\. o; pauiqmoa pamaas aouB;sumaip a^qissod IiaAg JTB}S •;aaj siq ;B ssapsuas XBJ aq 5{aiq; B q;iA\. miq 5pm;s f suoi;Baaidrai XUBIH Buiia;;n puB <iBa aq; Xq raiq jo p p q piBj ;uBSBad aq; ;nq fjauuBui SuTiojdrai puB aAissimqns ;soui aq; ui q;iBa aq; o; paiaAVoa JBOSQ 'tutq ;9Qui o; ^aBq Buiuuni amBO puB ^adBasa siq ; a a j p o; pa;uBiW aq paui^Biui f5[0Bq puB i a S u i | o; miq SuiAiasqo oqAV fja;sBm S u i p a j u n siq ia;jB Xy;uB;anpi XBAYB padraq aq 'Xaqosipo; SuiiBaj ;nq ^pa^qmaJt^iBasQ qp3a R\m& puB pno]; B Xq p^iuBduioaaB cpa;Bad -ao: S A apsiqAV aqjQ c *uBignj uoX uioij am ; a a ; o i d BV uBaunQ O * 'SUIXBS JI SB ^aaBj siq ui pa^oo^ puB f q S i q ; siq uodn pBaq siq pauBa^ 'raosoq s4iCoq aq; o; SuiSuqa puB 'punos a q ; Avau^[ {PAV IBOSQ -pnop PAPSIQAN. ;uBSBad aqj^ c*aiB noX SB \\I os ;ou UIB J ;nq tfjpsiui ;Ba o; qmnia B ;OU aABq J, f aq PIBS 6\ .IBASQ lood Xm 'r\ol 9AiS O ; qmnia B ;OU aABq j , — -aiojaq ; p j u n s S u i p a j q ; m ;iBaq siq paaiaid UIBSB qoiqAV 's^oo^ s c p u a u j siq ui pa;uiBd aiaA\ Xiasirn puB .laSunq ;Bq; paAiasqo uoos uBaunQ ;nq f S A siq; BV uuq; Supaam lapua; aiora B aApauoa o; a[qissoduii si ; j -jaAiod puB q;Suaj;s ui unq o; l o u a j u i SBAI s .i^asQ SB 'IBOSO jo asoq; o; loiiajui SB aiaAV sSui -paj asoqAV jo aauapAauaq puB l;tsoiauaS aq; ( ^ i i ^ ;B miq uap;s 10 ;qSnoq jaq;p P Q 'suiaas ;I B *Hdqdmvj WDdunQ 'Hdqduivj umun(j J2 Duncan Campbell. 9 Duncan Vampfr elL you saw how my heart is sometimes wrung! Yes, I have had losses indeed." " You, losses!" said his spouse, " N o ; you never had any losses that did not in the end turn out a vast profit." " Do you then count the loss of a loving wife and a son nothing ?" said he. " But have you not got a loving wife and daughter in their room ? " returned she ; "the one will not waste your fortune as a prodigal son would have done, and the other will take care of both you and that, when you can do neither —the loss of your son, indeed! it was the greatest blessing you could have." " Unfeeling woman ! " said he, " but Heaven may yet restore that son to protect the grey hairs of his old father, and lay his head in an honoured grave."—The old man cried like a child : his lady mimicked him—and, at this, his daughter and servants raised a laugh. " Inhuman wretches ! " said Duncan, starting up, and pushing them aside, " thus to mock the feelings ot an old man, even although he were not the lord and master of vou all: but take notice, the individual DUNCAN CAMPBELL. • wg o> > ><K <I •• w g^€ < ( o £ > Ii • 5 D U N C A N C A M P B E L L came from the Highlands, when six years of age, to live with an old maiden aunt in Edinburgh, and attend the school. His mother was dead ; but his father had supplied her place by marrying his house-keeper Duncan did not trouble himself about these matters, nor indeed about any other matters, save a black foal of his father's, and a large sagacious colley, named V • I. J _/» - �sbav '41—raooi aq; o;tit padda;s pue loop aq; pauado aq—sn uiq;iAY pa;uii2j s;maq mo 'Xi;ua aq; Suop 8uiqoi2oiddi2 sda;s;ooj siq pmaq a Y u a q ^ -asnoq ^ aq; o;ui pa;si2q puB 'asioq siq UIOJJ % q % padranf 'adBosa siq a^pra ppoqs io;qap siq ;saj piBijE 'laoqjb aqj, loop aq; ;i2 sasioq i p q ; j o asioa aq; pmaq a V q;£uaj ; y A -daaAY pui2 UAvop ;is ;nq $uiq;ou op ppoo aAv 'UI-ba sai^a^ua m o Suipuij os : ;uasuoo asiAVou ui ppoAY aq ;uq 'uAY0jqiaA0 ;SIIJ siq; ji;un jpsuiiq apiq o; jaq;^j Am pa;^ai;ua iaq;oui ... Maoqjo sfiJJiiaqs « Xq paiu^duioooB £auio;;e auios u-Bq; iaq;o ou aiaAv Xaq; ;eq; pauiaosip-uoos puB 'AYopum aq; o; paiimq « i °P eAV ll^s ;BqA\. „ 'iaq;ora A in p p s Jiaou aoi;snf j o siaoigo aq; am lapuoj^ „ -asnoq poqos SBja raiojs p p aq; j o sp-Bq aq; £ q dn ^qdrnqs Suipii auiB'j uara oAY; uaqAVtfauopaq o; ;saq SBAY ;BqA\. £ u i ; p s u o o '^Bp auo uiooi aj;;q mo ui £ui;;is |p aiaAY a ^ •aunjioj pauma-piBq siq j o ; m d ia;BaiS aq; aouo ; b ;so| 'paqsm; aAV uioqAV ' p u a i i j B JO apn;i;BiSui snoi;s -uoui aq; A(\ 'iaq;BJ <sn ipo;iaAO aun;iojsira a j q i n a ; aiora 12 uaqAY 'UBOUUQ JO S O a q ; I q paAiao S J - a i £ a q ; qoiqAY 'spoqs a q ; auiooiaAo s S u i p a j m o p«q X p o m o g 'asnoq s 4 iaq;«j Aui ;B OS ;OU SB S ; J - A. •ssaupBjS pu-B Ao[ 'Sui^s-Baj q ; m pajnj ~ n 8 I O J ° saS«;;oo p u B s j p q a q ^ ^unouro ;BaiS B o; spunj p u o s i a d p'Bq iaq;Bj siq 'a;B;sa m a p pooS B sapisaq ;Bq; 'paiaAoosip uoos aq puB 'UBOUUQ j o }iiauia#BUBui a q ; o; pa;;iraraoa S A S u i q ; <CiaAg[ BY cc j uos £[uo puB map Am | uos Aui punoj aA'Bq J IOJ 'I|t;iBaq aaq; ^u-Bq; 'aq piBS (6] uaA-Baq j o po£) q » -T0J uiosoq siq uo ;daAV u a q ; pu« ctfunq p a s s i ^ — ; q S u siq uo s a p u i OAV; a q ; Sui^oo|—-suopsanb ;uaiaqooui IXIBUI paifs-B pu'B 'paiaAooai uoos aq—SIUIB siq ui uiiq p p q uBOunQ -UBOUI aAispAuoo « q;iAV 12 uo ^OBq ipms pu« <ubui p p aq; pauirepxa w j uos £Z 'ipqdiavj uvjun(j 18 Duncan Campbell> amounted to the same thing. W e often compared the other girls in the parish with one another, as to their beauty and accomplishments, but to think of comparing any of them with Mary, was entirely out of the question. She was, indeed, the emblem of truth, simplicity, and innocence, and if there were few more beautiful, there were still fewer so good and amiable; but still, as she advanced in years, she grew fonder and fonder of being near Duncan ; and by the time she was nineteen* was so deeply in love, that it affected her manner, her spirits, and her health. At one time she was gay and frisky as a kitten: she would dance, sing, and laugh violently at the most trivial incidents. At other times she was silent and sad, while a languishing softness overspread her features, and added greatly to her charms. The passion was undoubtedly mutual between them ; but Duncan, either from a sense of honour, or some other cause, never declared himself farther on the subject, than by the most respectful attention, and tender assiduities. About forty years ago the flocks of southern sheep, which have since that period inundated the Highlands, had not found their way over the Grampian mountains, and the native flocks of that sequestrated country were so scanty, that it was found necessary to transport small quantities of wool annually to the north, to furnish materials for clothing the inhabitants. During two months of each summer, the hilly countries of the Lowlands were inundated by hundreds of women from the Highlands, who gartered small articles of dress, and of domestic import, for wool; these were known by the appellation oinorlari' nettles ; and few nights passed, during the wool season, that some of them were not lodged at my father's house. It was from tw.o of these that Duncan learned one day that he was the laird of Glenellich's only son and heir, and that a large sum had ey aq; f am;^ia;i{ j o qou^iq ^n^uiBp Ira ;nq f 3 -unj puB ;uB;ioduii ;soui;Bq; jo ipn;s aq; O ; ; U B ; S U I ara-Bs aq; ;i2 ireSaq pu'B 'poqos qsimd aq; o; ;uas J puB UBOUUQ 4SuiAuqpj ^aaAV aq; ';i2q; 'SEAV qoiqAV jo 9ouanbasuoo aq; i uoi;Bonpa jo £;qi;n pui2 sasuadxa aq; uo s;ua.n2d ^ui uaaAv;aq uoi^siaAuoo is paonpoid ;uappui siqj, -UIBSB P U « UIB8I2 unq o; ;i pBai o; Xpoq ^iaAa j o SuiSSaq 'mm siq A\opq ajqig aq; q ; m ;noqB Sui^pAV svm U^OUUQ jfep ;xa^j •q;Sua{ ;BaiS s;i j o Suipu«;sq;m;ou ';noqSnoiq; ia;di2qo q;og aqi p^a-i puB 'a^qig aq; pauado UIBSB aq 'pioAi ^ Suua;;n ;noq;iAV 'Xouaoap jo qa^aiq i;s^q siq jo ;UUOOOB uo paqsBq-B miq Supas ;nq 'aot?j S c U^OUUQ X|uia;s pa^oo^ iaq;Bj Ajfo ;;i ;noq-B pi^s jCaq; ;^qAv maq sn ;aj pu^ 'uo 08 'UBOUUQ piBS 'iig 'as-Ba^d x\oA JI 'uo 08 'uo o g -5{ooq aq; pasop puB 'iaq;Bj Aui pii2s 'puiui moA ^isads 'aoiAp-B a ';i j o .iapisuo3 -Aioqp s ^ a q ^ j Xui o; asop dn uap;s pBq aq 'auop j p q S'BAV ; I aia ;nq 'asnoq aq; j o apis iaq;o aq; uo pa;^as SBAV UBOUUQ ' ; I Suip'Bai mB§aq aq uaqAV f saSpn£ j o :spoq aq; j o ia;dBqo q;gx Duncan Campbell. 7 eagerly upon Oscar, and the farther he went from him, the more strong his desire grew to follow him. He looked the other way, but all there was to him a blank—he had no desire to stand where he was, so he followed Oscar and the drove of cattle. The cattle were weary, and went slowly; and Duncan, getting a little rod in his hand, assisted the man greatly in driving them. One of the drivers gave him a penny, and another gave him * twopence ; and the lad who had the charge of the drove, observing how active and pliable he was, and how far he had accompanied him on the way, gave him sixpence : this was a treasure to Duncan, who, being extremely hungry, bought three penny rolls, as he passed through a town , one of these he ate * himself, another he gave to Oscar, and the third he carried below his arm, in casp of farther necessity. He drove all the day, and at night the cattle rested upon a height, which, by his description, seems to have been that between Gala Water and Middleton. Duncan went off at side in company with Oscar, to eat his roll; and taking shelter behind an old earthen wall, they shared their dry meat most lovingly between them. Ere it was quite finished, Duncan, being fatigued, dropped into a profound slumber, out of which he did not awake until the next morning was far advanced. Englishnten, cattle, and Oscar, all were gone. Duncan found himself alone on a wild height, in what country or kingdom he knew not. He sat for some time in a callous stupor, rubbing his eyes and scratching his head, but quite irresolute what was further necessary for him to do, until he was agreeably surprised by the arrival of Oscar, who (though he had gone at his master's call in the morning) had found means to escape and seek the retreat of his young friend and benefactor. Duncan, without reflecting on the consequence, rejoiced in the event, and thought of c*auii;-£i2p aq; m jpsXui IOU ';qSiu aq; Suimp auop daapt iaq;pu ;smp ami; SuofB lojpire 'mAvaQ ;jaj j O ; ajqB S-BAV J S12 uoos s y 'iaq;o aq; 10 apis auo aq; uo ara IAAO SuipuB;s aq o; ladid aq; SUIUIS-BUII B^BAvp ';q8iu£q saiuo£I2 pjpBaip ;sora aq; paiajpis I ami; qoiqAV Suimp 's&gp AuBUI ssaujji I q pauij -uoa SBAV j qoiqAV o; 'uaqo;pj aq; ui paq aj;;q B aui apBUi s;uBAias aq; : iaAaj qSiq « ui SBAY J jfep ;xajsj •sarai; paipunq 1 j o spmAvdn j p j j ams UB \ pu'B 2 I 'asnoq aq; raoij spm£ paipunq « ;ou SBAV J 'sda;s OAI; £iaAa punoiS aq; o ; j p j ;nq 'uni o; pamoA-Bap -ua puB dn ;o8 j 'jps^ui o; aurBD j uaqAV i Suoj Aioq AVOU^ ;ou op j 'uiBaip j o pui^ 12 ui Au\ puB 'q;ma aq; o; ssajiaAiod 5[uns ;nq 'uni o; paii; J ; ;id - S B B ^mp AvaiS aui punoiB j p ;uaraora ;^q; IOJ f uiiq jo i\aiA ; i o q s tj ;oS J ;nq f £poq p^ap e aijq s^Ai a p j , 8 M UBOunQ 'a^q aq SBAV > pa5[oo| aq 'punoi paum; j uaqAV puB 'sp-Bq Am piBq Suipu«;s SBAY oqAY 'iadid aq; AYBS J a i a q ; pu« ';qSq aq; ;B t\oo\ O; ;noqB paum; puB 'piBij'B Suiq;ou SBAY J F ara puiqaq umq puB ';ooj ;qSii Am Xq �10 Duncan Campbell. Duncan Campbell. like a man dying, or a cow that was chocked in the band; but at length he saw him at his side one night, which so discomposed him that he was obliged to leave the place, after being ill for many days. I shall give this story in Duncan's own words, which I have often heard him repeat without any variation. ' I had been driving some young cattle to the heights of Willensfie—it grew late before I got home. I was thinking, and thinking, how cruel it was to kill the poor piper ! to cut out his tongue, and stab him in the back. I thought it was no wonder that his ghost took it extremely ill; when, all on a sudden, I perceived a light before me :— I thought the wand in my hand was all on fire, and threw it away, but I perceived the light glide slowly by my right foot, and burn behind me; I was nothing afraid, and turned about to look at the light, and there I saw the piper, who was standing hard at my back, and when I turned round, he looked me in the face.' ' What was he like, Duncan V 4 He was like a dead body; but I got a short view of him ; for that moment all around me grew dark as a pit! I tried to run, but sunk powerless to the earth, and lay in a kind of dream, I do not know how long; when I came to myself, I got up and endeavoured to run, but fell to the ground every two steps. I was not a hundred yards from the house, and 1 am sure I fell upwards of a hundred times. Next day I was in a high fever : the servants made me a little bed in the kitchen, to which I was coilfined by illness many days, during which time I suffered the most dreadful agonies by night, always imagining the piper to be standing over me on the one side or the other. As soon as I was able to walk, I left Dewar, and for along time durst neither ileep alone during the night, nor stay by myself m the day-time.' ness to them during the bygone day, and to beg his protection through the dark and silent watches of the night. I need not inform any of my readers that that amiable duty consisted in singing a few stanzas of a psalm, in which all the family joined their voices with my father's, so that the double octaves of the various ages and sexes swelled to the simple concert. He then read a chapter from the Bible, going straight on from beginning to end of the Scriptures. The prayer concluded the devotions of each evening, in which the downfall of Antichrist was always strenuously urged, the ministers of the gospel remembered, nor was any friend or neighbour in distress forgot. At one time, the year following, my father, in th@ course of his evening devotions, had reached the 19th chapter of the book of Judges; when he began reading it, Duncan was seated on the other side of the house, but ere it was half done, he had stolen up close to my father's elbow. Consider of it, take advice, speak your mind, said my father, and closed the book. Go on, go on, if you please, Sir, said Duncan, go on, and let us hear what they said about it. My father looked sternly at Duncan's face, but seeing him abashed on account of his hasty breach of decency, without uttering a word, he again opened the Bible, and read the 20th chapter throughout, notwithstanding of its great length. Next day Duncan was walking about with the Bible below his arm, begging of every body to read it to him again and again. This incident produced a conversation between my parents on the expenses and utility of education; the consequent of which was, that, the week following, Duncan and I were sent to the parish school, and began at the same instant to the study of that most important and fundamental branch of literature, the A, B, C ; but my jo ;qSuoq; puB ';UOAO oq; ui poopfoi 'oououbosuoD oq; uo Sui;oo]joi ;noq;iAV 'UBOUUQ • io;oBjouoq put? puoiij SUUOIC siq jo ;i30i;0i oq; >pos puB odBoso o; SUB9UI puuoj pBq (SUIUIOUI oq; ui {JBO SCIO;SBUI siq ; B auoS pBq 9q qSnoq;) oqAV 'IBOSQ JO JBAIIIB oq; £q posiidms ICJQBQBISB SBAV oq ji;un 'op o; uiiq IOJ XIBS -SOOOU i9q;iuj SBAV ;BqAv 9;npsoni o;mb ;uq -pBoq siq Suiqo;Bios puB so£o siq Suiqqm 'iodn;s SUOJJBO B ui oun; ouios IOJ ;BS OJJ -;OU AVOU^ 9q uiopSupi IO XI;uuoo ;BqA\ ui ';q£pq pjiAv B UO OUOJB jpsunq puuoj UBOUUQ *OUOS 910AS. 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SB I^siij puB JCBS SBAV 9qs 9uii; 9uo ; y -q;[B9q i9q puB 's;iiids i9q 'I9UUBUI i9q p9;o9jfB ;i ;Bq; '9A0| III X[d99p OS SBAV *U99;9UIU SBAV 9qs 9uii; 9q; Iq puB F UBOUUQ IB9U S U P Q JO I9pUOJ puB I9pUOJ AV9iS 9qS 'SIB9JC ui poouBApB 9qs SB '^i;S ;nq i 9|QBIUIB puB pooS OS I9AV9J j[i;s 9I9AV 9I9q; '^UJi;UB9q 9 I 0 U I AV9J 9I9AV 9i9q; JI puB ' 9 0 U 9 0 0 U U { puB '^;pi"[drais 'q;ui; jo rao^quio 9q; 'p99pui 'SBAV 9qg *uoi;s9nb 9q; jo ;uo Xpii;u9 SBAV '^IBJ\[ q;iAV ui9q; jo ^UB SuiiBdraoo jo >[uiq; o; ;uq 's;u9iuqsi]:duioooB puB iC;uBoq i p q ; o; SB 'iaq;ouB ouo q;iAV qsiiBd oq; ui SJIIS ioq;o oq; poiBduioo uo;jo o ^ -Suiq; OUIBS oq; o; po;uuouiB I 'jpqdwvQ uvdunq IS •HdqdiuvQ ui)dun(j Duncan Campbell. 81 23 son!" exclaimed the old man, and sunk back on a seat with a convulsive moan. Duncan held him in his arms—he soon recovered, and asked many incoherent questions-—looking at the two moles on his right leg—kissed him* and then wept on his bosom for joy. " O God of heaven !" said he, " I thank thee heartily, for I have found my son ! my dear and only son ! " Every thing was committed to the management of Duncan, and he soon discovered, that besides a good clear estate, his father had personal funds to a great amount. The halls and cottages of Glenellich were filled with feasting, joy and gladness. It was not so at my father's house. Scarcely had our feelings overcome the shock, which they received by the loss of Duncan, when a more terrible misfortune overtook us. My father, by the monstrous ingratitude of a friend, whom we trusted, lost, at once the greater part of his hard-earned fortune. We were all sittiner in our little room one dav. � Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The History of Duncan Campbell, and his dog Oscar, and the Courtship of Duncan and Mary; An interesting Scottish Tale. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923332033505154">s0384b17</a> Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Courtship of Duncan and Mary; An interesting Scottish Tale. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Hogg, James, 1770-1835; Ettrick shepherd Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [ca. 1840] per National Library of Scotland Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 17 cm Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks - Scotland - Oatley Highlands Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. <a title="National Library of Scotland" href="http://www.nls.uk/">National Library of Scotland&nbsp;</a> Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For high quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca, 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f7b94a90bf4643c43e34d1a4e7bfcee9.jpg f1411d4168f50551e0e57aa92a1de1a4 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3848 Width 2208 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f31b38d050571cccc89dc470abaf14c8.jpg 56d1ad05fceddcb7870f01a9d80ddee3 Omeka Image File The metadata element set that was included in the `files_images` table in previous versions of Omeka. These elements are common to all image files. Bit Depth 8 Channels 3 Height 3366 Width 1772 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The history of the Haverel wives, or The folly of witless women displayed. Written by Humphray Clinker the clashing wives clerk. Being a comical conference between Maggy and Janet his two old aunts. With Janet's advice to Maggy, concerning marriage, with the manner in which she courted her husband, which began by her taking him by the twa lugs and kissing him. To which is added, an oration on the virtues of the old women and the pride of the young. Dictated by Janet Clinker, and written by Humphray Clinker, the clashing wives' clerk. Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks, Scottish Chapbooks-Scotland-Stirling Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Humphray Clinker Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1820-1830 per National Library of Scotland Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9923333933505154">s0493b47</a> Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Stirling, Scotland Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. The folly of witless women displayed Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the pubic domain; For higher quality reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages 17 cm Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Stirling: Printed by William Macnie and sold wholesale and retail https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/f0fb5653380fdb7079a3950fba491c12.pdf bdae6cdd44f8b59d0ff6bfcf8ac8b5c2 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/2016b927235b4e027af3817e5eebd09f.jpg 384cf7129d38533176da9fcaf32d8dcf https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/6cfd45ac05e19ed7888f34d0a7bc2e2e.jpg eb97af1365c00a90ac2f31d4d93c60e8 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/b59b873511678b9a9caea2f49c5ef8dc.jpg c4d192a3413a7bb137aec5663e977459 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ce52dd02def4b953890b23010a1e1fc1.jpg 2fef36662c46f50e40aed0bedae2d0b5 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/0111db2b0d4f78e8a70655c38f72ee52.jpg 2ee9b6669fe7176b4dd02d476efacc15 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/0a9fed8b724cc515dc6f8b29698a00b4.jpg ed5b961b3356b75fce12ea0e2af21464 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/9a3116056986f20acc3216dac42cb08d.jpg 58cc2618f87cd845b64deeb87e3e5035 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/68b5aa94c2bd5ae1d6050aa5e4d5313d.jpg c853342774ad03ab699a195301b6df80 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a2d834e697094c2d370b79936343d73b.jpg bbdf6f86d9420ee30db2eb896022bb2a https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/fa0d4d95f6e0db266bb503ab340ca819.jpg 092abc8e021116a2f21fe75632f8bd32 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/0b0cf97f58d0edcf1ec9ecd3ad19c0fd.jpg 1ef9b5e37ab7f248f3e0a7ad15d9ad13 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/a6d10072fe3c17b9a21b2af2f627c8fe.jpg a3e5843b0408777b776bd5f5e7c10123 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/c52682b288774750d889441831f25fb7.jpg 3c597e4f840cd7550117d627ba7c9c24 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/1ba7865066744cf1ecedb5695cf3444a.jpg c99ffbd88d4543fc7a428c2660d60539 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/eb32b19a5d7718a7dd1bef97bc732bec.jpg 6b014cff55ead6752ea01704dd4d5d7d https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/d56be80010aee6d08cabefe4c9df60b1.jpg 3b95a7d2edc518048ed383e17fdd3c5a https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/ab232a36e505e44831386c9df1c379c8.jpg 52876565678652d012a656508951a951 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/6155cefbd3b066fc29fd51b88f8d1cb4.jpg ac8126439897f20924a4e83610fc0f30 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/cc6929351bd94f723b157ae8a0528789.jpg 1b1c1b317aa3969f29fb34e9b4a23e94 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/bb3d6b05585714d451f8a992bc5a62f5.jpg 9f5db8e100a5c3ece250b982c6f80be4 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/cf34a328eb6a6104472107234f351a39.jpg ade6267145e66022b2057c08a7fe0327 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/04117301a187352255bdeb85ac9afa9e.jpg 01d5f63657cb7b709908171c7cd1cfb9 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/e1ab8f10c9881baf79769928069a39e9.jpg 1314805f76dc04ae31ad12ac8fb9e6e4 https://scottishchapbooks.lib.uoguelph.ca/files/original/353147838eba0b78572e49d5c33e38b7.jpg ac401179d29ae9283414ada5dfde4b74 Document A resource containing textual data. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Rugantino, The Bravo of Venice. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Lewis, M. G. (Matthew Gregory), 1775-1818 Zschokke, Heinrich, 1771-1848. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1838 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context <a href="https://ocul-gue.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01OCUL_GUE/mrqn4e/alma9953133973505154">s0042b27</a> Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. A bound collection of 37 chapbooks; Chapbook #29 Description An account of the resource Woodcut image of a soldier holding a sword, left arm is raised on title-page An abridged translation of: 'Abällino, der grosse Bandit', by H. Zschokke Extent The size or duration of the resource. 24 pages Alternative Title An alternative name for the resource. The distinction between titles and alternative titles is application-specific. Abällino, der grosse Bandit'. English Subject The topic of the resource Chapbooks--England--Durham Is Referenced By A related resource that references, cites, or otherwise points to the described resource. National Library of Scotland <a href="http://www.nls.uk/">http://www.nls.uk/</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Archival and Special Collections, University of Guelph Library, Guelph, Ontario, Canada Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPEGs and PDF derived from master file, which was scanned from the original book in 24-bit color at 600 dpi in TIFF format using an Epson Expression 10000XL scanner. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In the public domain; For higher reproductions, contact Archival & Special Collections, University of Guelph. libaspc@uoguelph.ca 519-824-4120, Ext. 53413 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Durham: Printed by George Walker, Jun.