behave extremely ill in God's most holy church for I would never attend myself nor let Isabella attend which was a great crime for she often, often tells me that when to or three are geathered together God is in the midst of them, and it was the very same Divil that tempted Job that tempted me I am sure ; but he resisted Satan though he had boils and many many other misfortunes which I have escaped.. . . I am now going to tell you the horible and wretched plaege (plague) that my multiplication gives me you can't conceive it the most Devilish thing is 8 times 8 and 7 times 7 it is what nature itself cant endure."

First

Our poor little wifie, she has no doubts of for I am finned 2 pence whenever I bite my the personality of the Devil! Yesterday I nails. Isabella is teaching me to make simme colings nots of interrigations peorids commoes, etc. . . . As this is Sunday I will meditate upon Senciable and Religious subjects. I should be very thankful I am not a begger." This amount of meditation and thankfulness seems to have been all she was able for. "I am going to-morrow to a delightfull place, Braehead by name, belonging to Mrs. Crraford, where there is ducks cocks hens bubblyjocks 2 dogs 2 cats and swine which is delightful. I think it is shocking to think that the dog and cat should bear them" (this is a meditation physiological), "and they are drowned after all. I would rather have a man-dog than a woman-dog, because they do not bear like women-dogs; it is a hard case-it is shocking. I cam here to enjoy natures delightful breath it is sweeter than a fial (phial) of rose oil."

This is delicious; and what harm is there in her "Devilish"? it is strong language merely; even old Rowland Hill used to say "he grudged the Devil those rough and ready words." "I walked to that delightful place Braehead is the farm the historical Jock Crakyhall with a delightful young man be- Howison asked and got from our gay James loved by all his friends espacially by me his the Fifth," the gudeman of Ballengiech," as loveress, but I must not talk any more about a reward for the services of his flail when the him for Isa said it is not proper for to speak king had the worst of it at Cramond Brig of gentalmen but I will never forget him! with the gypsies. The farm is unchanged in . I am very very glad that satan size from that time, and still in the unbroken has not given me boils and many other mis- line of the ready and victorious thrasher. fortunes-In the holy bible these words are Braehead is held on the condition of the poswritten that the Devil goes like a roaring lyon sessor being ready to present the king with a in search of his pray but the lord lets us es-ewer and basin to wash his hands, Jɔck havcape from him but we" (pauvre petite!)" doing done this for his unknown king after the not strive with this awfull Spirit. To-day I pronunced a word which should never come out of a lady's lips it was that I called John a Impudent Bitch. I will tell you what I think made me in so bad a humour is I got one or two of that bad bad sina (senna) to-day,"-a better excuse for humor and bad language than most.

splore, and when George the Fourth came to Edinburgh this ceremony was performed in silver at Holyrood. It is a lovely neuk this Braehead, preserved almost as it was two hundred years ago. "Lot and his wife," mentioned by Maidic,-two quaintly cropped yew-trees, bad-still thrive, the burn runs as it did in her

She has been reading the Book of Esther; "It was a dreadful thing that Haman was hanged on the very gallows which he had prepared for Mordeca to hang him and his ten sons thereon and it was very wrong and cruel to hang his sons for they did not commit the crime; but then Jesus was not then come to teach us to be merciful." This is wise and beautiful-has upon it the very dew of youth and of holiness. Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings He perfects His praise. "This is Saturday and I am very glad of it because I have play half the Day and I get money too but alas I owe Isabella 4 pence

time, and sings the same quiet tune-as much the same and as different as Now and Then. The house full of old family relics and pictures, the sun shining on them through the small deep windows with their plate glass; and there, blinking at the sun, and chattering contentedly, is a parrot, that might, for its looks of eld, have been in the ark, and domineered over and deaved the dove. Everything about the place is old and fresh.

This is beautiful: "I am very sorry to say that I forgot God-that is to say I forgot to pray to-day and Isabella told me that I should be thankful that God did not forget me-if he did, O what become of me if I

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was in danger and God not friends with me | Balfour, Esq., offered to kiss me, and offered -I must go to unquenchable fire and if I was to marry me, though the man" (a fine directtempted to sin-how could I resist it O no Iness this!) will never do it again—no no— -if I can help it." (Canny wee wifie!) My religion is greatly falling off because I don't pray with so much attention when I am saying my prayers, and my charecter is lost among the Braehead people. I hope I will be religious again—but as for regaining my charecter I despare for it." (Poor little" habit and repute) "!

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"was espused, and his wife was present and said he must ask her permission; but he did not. I think he was ashamed and confounded before 3 gentelman-Mr Jobson and 2 Mr. Kings." Mr. Bannester's" (Bannister's) Budjet is to-night; I hope it will A great many authors have be a good one. expressed themselves too sentimentally.” "A Mr. Burns You are right, Marjorie. writes a beautiful song on Mr. Cunhaming, whose wife desarted him-truly it is a most 66 I like to read the Fabulous historys, about the histerys of Robin, Dickey, flapsay, and Peccay, and it is very amusing, for some were good birds and others bad, but Peccay was the most dutiful and obedient to her parients." Thompson is a beautiful author, and Pope, but nothing to Shakespear, of which I have a little knolege. Macbeth is a pretty composition, but awful one." Newgate Calender is very instructive" (!) "A sailor called here to say farewell; it must be dreadful to leave his native country when he might get a wife; or perhaps me, for I love him very much. But I forgot, Isabella forbid me to speak about love." This antiphlogistic regimen and lesson is ill to learn by our Maidie, for here she sins again: "Love is a very papithatick thing " (it is almost a pity to correct this into pathetic), " as well as troublesome and tiresome

Her temper, her passion, and her "badness" are almost daily confessed and deplor-beautiful one." ed: "I will never again trust to my own power, for I see that I cannot be good without God's assistance-I will not trust in my own selfe, and Isa's health will be quite "Isa has ruined by me-it will indeed." giving me advice, which is, that when I feal Satan beginning to tempt me, that I flea him and he would flea me." "Remorse is the worst thing to bear, and I am afraid that I will fall a marter to it."

Poor dear little sinner!-Here comes the world again: "In my travels I met with a handsome lad named Charles Balfour Esq., and from him I got ofers of marage-offers of marage, did I say? Nay plenty heard me." A fine scent for "breach of promise!

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"The

Here are her reflections on a pine-apple: "I think the price of a pine-apple is very dear; it is a whole bright goulden guinea, that might have sustained a poor family." Here is a new vernal simile: The hedges are sprouting like chicks from the eggs when they are newly hatched or, as the vulgar say, "Doctor Swift's works are very

This is abrupt and strong: "The Divil is curced and all works. "Tis a fine work Newton on the profecies. I wonder if there is another book of poems comes near the Bible.-but O Isabella forbid me to speak of it.” The Divil always girns at the sight of the Bible." "Miss Potune" (her "simpliton" friend)" is very fat; she pretends to be very learned. She says she saw a stone that dropt from the skies; but she is a good Christian." Here comes her views on church government: An Annibabtist is a thing I am not a member of—I am a Pisplekan (Episcopa- clacked." lian) just now, and" (O you little Laodicean funny; I got some of them by heart." "Moreheads sermons are I hear much praised "a Prisbeteran at and Latitudinarian!) Kirkcaldy!"—(Blandula! Vagula! cœlum et but I never read sermons of any kind; but I animum mutas quæ trans mare (i.e., trans read novelettes and my Bible, and I never forBodotriam)-curris!)-" my native town." get it, or my prayers." Bravo, Marjorie ! "Sentiment is not what I am acquainted with as yet, though I wish it, and should like to practice it" (!) "I wish I had a great, great deal of gratitude in my heart, in all my body.' "There's a new novel published, name SelfControl" (Mrs. Brunton's-" a very good maxim forsooth!" This is shocking: Yesterday a marrade man, named Mr. John

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She seems now, when still about six, to have broken out into song:

«EPHIBOL (EPIGRAM OR EPITAPH—WHO KNOWS

WHICH?) ON MY DEAR LOVE ISABELLA."
"Here lies sweet Isabell in bed,
With a night-cap on her head;
Her skin is soft, her face is fair,
And she has very pretty hair;

She and I in bed lies nice,

And undisturbed by rats or mice;
She is disgusted with Mr. Worgan,
Though he plays upon the organ.
Her nails are neat, her teeth are white,
Her eyes are very, very bright;
In a conspicuous town she lives,
And to the poor her money gives:
Here ends sweet Isabella's story,
And may it be much to her glory."
Here are some bits at random :-

"Of summer I am very fond,
And love to bathe into a pond;
The look of sunshine dies away,
And will not let me out to play;
I love the morning's sun to spy
Glittering through the casement's eye,
The rays of light are very sweet,
And puts away the taste of meat;
The balmy breeze comes down from heaven,
And makes us like for to be living.'

Here is her weakness and her strength again: "In the love-novels all the heroines are very desperate. Isabella will not allow me to speak about lovers and heroins, and 'tis too refined for my taste." "Miss Egward's (Edgeworth's) tails are very good, particularly some that are very much adapted for youth (!) as Laz Laurance and Tarelton, False Keys, etc. etc."

"Tom Jones and Grey's Elegey in a country churchyard are both excellent, and much · spoke of by both sex, particularly by the men." Are our Marjories now-a-days better or worse because they cannot read Tom Jones unharmed? More better than worse; but who among them can repeat Gray's Lines on a distant prospect of Eton College as could our Maidie

Here is some more of her prattle: "I went "The casawary is an curious bird, and so into Isabella's bed to make her smile like the is the gigantic crane, and the pelican of the Genius Demedicus" (the Venus de Medicis) wilderness, whose mouth holds a bucket of" or the statute in an ancient Greece, but she fish and water. Fighting is what ladies is not qualyfied for, they would not make a good figure in a battle or in a duel. Alas! we females are of little use to our country. The history of all the malcontents as ever was hanged is amusing." Still harping on the Newgate Calendar!

"Braehead is extremely pleasant to me by the companie of swine, geese, cocks, etc., and they are the delight of my soul."

I am going to tell you of a melancholy story. A young turkie of 2 or 3 months old, would you believe it, the father broke its leg, and he killed another! I think he ought to be transported or hanged."

"Queen Street is a very gay one, and so is Princes Street, for all the lads and lasses, besides bucks and beggars, parade there.”

"I should like to see a play very much, for I never saw one in all my life, and don't believe I ever shall; but I hope I can be content without going to one. I can be quite happy without my desire being granted."

"Some days ago Isabella had a terrible fit of the toothake, and she walked with a long night-shift at dead of night like a ghost, and I thought she was one. She prayed for nature's sweet restorer-balmy sleep-but did not get it—a ghostly figure indeed she was, enough to make a saint tremble. It made me quiver and shake from top to toe. Superstition is a very mean thing, and should be despised and shunned."

fell asleep in my very face, at which my anger broke forth, so that I awoke her from a comfortable nap. All was now hushed up again, but again my anger burst forth at her biding me get up."

She begins thus loftily:

"Death the righteous love to see,
But from it doth the wicked flee."
suddenly breaks off (as with laugh-

Then
ter)—

"I am sure they fly as fast as their legs can carry them."

"There is a thing I love to see,

That is our monkey catch a flee."

"I love in Isa's bed to lie,

Oh, such a joy and luxury!
The bottom of the bed I sleep,
And with great care within I creep;
Oft I embrace her feet of lillys,
But she has goton all the pillys.
Her neck I never can embrace,
But I do hug her feet in place."

How childish and yet how strong and free is her use of words! "I lay at the foot of the bed because Isabella said I disturbed her by continial fighting and kicking, but I was very dull, and continially at work reading the Arabian Nights, which I could not have done if I had slept at the top. I am reading the Mysteries of Udolpho. I am much interested in the fate of poor, poor Emily." Here is one of her swains:

She has a long poem on Mary Queen of ten then we get our music till 11 when we Scots:

What rich involution of love in the words " O thou great Governor of all below,

marked! Here are some lines to her beloved Isabella, in July, 1811 :

"There is a thing that I do want,

With you these beauteous walks to haunt,
We would be happy if you would
Try to come over if you could.
Then I would all quite happy be
Now and for all eternity.
My mother is so very sweet,
And checks my appetite to eat ;
My father shows us what to do ;
But O I'm sure that I want you.
I have no more of poetry;
O Isa do remember me,
And try to love your Marjory."
In a letter from "Isa" to

"Miss Muff Maidie Marjory Fleming, favored by Rare Rear-Admiral Fleming,'

she says: "I long much to see you, and talk over all our old stories together, and to hear you read and repeat. I am pining for my old friend Cesario, and poor Lear, and wicked Richard. How is the dear Multiplication table going on? are you still as much attached to 9 times 9 as you used to be?"

If I might dare a lifted eye to thee,
Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow,
And still the tumult of the raging sea;
With that controlling power assist even me
Those headstrong furious passions to confine,
For all unfit I feel my powers to be
To rule their torrent in the allowed line;
O aid me with thy help, OMNIPOTENCE DIVINE."

It is more affecting than we care to say to read her mother's and Isabella Keith's letters written immediately after her death. Old and withered, tattered and pale they are now; but when you read them, how quick, how throbbing with life and love! how rich in that language of affection which only women and Shakspeare and Luther can use - that power of detaining the soul over the beloved object and its loss.

"K. Philip to Constance –

You are as fond of grief as of your child. Const.-Grief fills the room up of my absent child,

Lies in his bed, walks up and down

with me;

Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,

Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form.

Then I have reason to be fond of grief" What variations cannot love play on this one string!

But this dainty, bright thing is about to flee to come 66 quick to confusion." The measles she writes of seized her, and she died on the 19th of December, 1811. The day before her death, Sunday, she sat up in bed, worn and thin, her eye gleaming as with the light of a coming world, and with a tremulous, old voice repeated the following lines by Burns-heavy with the shadow of death, and lit with the fantasy of the judgment-It seat-the publican's prayer in paraphrase : "Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene?

Have I so found it full of pleasing charms? Some drops of joy, with draughts of ill be

tween,

Some gleams of sunshine mid renewing

storms.

Is it departing pangs my soul alarms?
Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode?

For guilt, for GUILT my terrors are in arms;
I tremble to approach an angry God,
And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod.
"Fain would I say, forgive my foul offence,

Fain promise never more to disobey;
But should my Author health again dispense,
Again I might forsake fair virtue's way,
Again in folly's path might go astray,
Again exalt the brute and sink the man.

Then how should I for heavenly mercy pray,
Who act so counter heavenly mercy's plan,
Who sin so oft have mourned, yet to tempation
ran?

In her first letter to Miss Keith, Mrs. Fleming says of her dead Maidie :—

"Never did I behold so beautiful an object. resembled the finest wax-work. There was in the countenance an expression of sweetness and serenity which seemed to indicate that the pure spirit had anticipated the joys of heaven ere it quitted the mortal frame. To tell you what your Maidie said of you would fill volumes; for you was the constant theme of her discourse, the subject of her thoughts, and ruler of her actions. The last time she mentioned you was a few hours before all sense save that of suffering was suspended, when she said to Dr. Johnstone, If you will let me out at the New Year, I will be quite contented.' I asked what made her so anxious to get out then? I want to purchase a New Year's gift for Isa Keith with the sixpence you gave me for being patient in the measles; and I would like to choose it myself. I do not remember her speaking afterwards, except to complain of her head, till just before she expired, when she articulated, O mother! mother!"""

Do we make too much of this little child,