woman told her story with a kind of rude eloquence that was almost touching, and so enlisted the sympathies of the Doctor that he gave her a weekly subsidy. On one occasion I happened to be in the room when the offspring of the minister appeared, and it struck me that she brought with her a peculiarly strong odour as if of alcohol. Her step, too, was rather unsteady, and her language incoherent; and though she contrived to mumble out several texts of Scripture without verbal error, their application was by no means evident. In short, the woman was intoxicated. I contrived to make my uncle see this; and for once he got into a regular passion and put her to the door. About three weeks elapsed before she reappeared; but one evening, when we were sitting at tea, the bell was rung violently, there was a scuffle in the passage, and in rushed the woman, sobbing hysterically, and waving a dirty white handkerchief. Down she flounced on her knees before my uncle.

"He's gasping! he's gasping! Gi'e, me money, gi'e me money-he's gasping!"

Gasping! who's gasping?" said the Doctor, completely taken aback. 66 Get up, woman!"

"No till ye gi'e me money! he's gasping!" roared the woman; "O sir, its my feyther, my puir feyther! The auld man's in the dead-thraw, and I haena aught to gi'e him! O, for God's sake, sir, hae mercy on me! Is he to gang oot o' the world less cared for than a cat, and him a minister of the Gospel?"

"Bless me! that's very distressing," said my uncle; "wait, my good woman, till I get my hat, and I'll go with you and see him."

"Dinna fash yoursel'-O dinna fash yoursel' to do that!" cried the woman; "there's twa doctors wi' him already. But as ye wad win a blessing frae the Lord, gie me something to buy him a cordial and a blanket. It's a sair thing to see a preacher of the Word lying on the bare buirds in this cauld weather, and no a spunk o' fire to warm his deein' taes !"

"Poor woman!" said the compas

sionate Doctor; "I am really very sorry for you. A sad, sad case! Here-take this pound-note, and get him what the doctors order.'

"The blessing o' the puir be upon ye! may ye see His face in Jerusalem!" shrieked the woman, clutching the note, and rushing distractedly to the door.

"Poverty and riches," said my uncle, musingly, as he put in his cup for a second supply of tea-" Poverty and riches undoubtedly are only relative terms, and have no clear significance except by way of comparison. I am not rich certainly; but how can I call myself poor, when I know that I have a comfortable house to dwell in, with food and clothing, whilst this old man, who has led the life of an evangelist, is passing away in cold, wretchedness, and neglect? Ah, Norman, my boy, it is well for us to know and feel that there is no true happiness here!"

66

Have you ever seen the old man, sir?" said I.

"Never. But from his daughter's account he must be an excellent creature, a worthy old soul. It is an infamous shame and scandal that these Independents, as they call themselves, should abandon their preachers when they are no longer fit for the pulpit ! I would not speak to a man who used his wornout horse so cruelly."

"But are you quite sure, sir, that the woman's story is a true one? You remember how drunk she was when she came here last."

"Bless me! so she was," said the Doctor; "you're quite right, Norman; I recollect it perfectly now-she was very drunk indeed! Ah, it's a sad thing, that drink! But it's the way with most of them."

"Surely not with ministers' daughters, sir?"

"Why, no-that does make a difference, to be sure."

"And to speak plainly, sir; I am not certain that the woman was altogether sober just now.'

"Fie, Norman! that's not right. I don't like to see a young man so suspicious. It would be a monstrous thing if she were wasting money on drink when her father is dying of want!"

"But we don't know that he is dying, sir; nay, we don't know if there is any father in the case," said I; "I verily believe that the woman is a regular cheat and vagabond; and were I you, sir, I would give her nothing more without making proper inquiry."

My uncle scratched his ear, as was his habit when perplexed.

"I wish you had not put this into my head, Norman! It makes me very uneasy. I don't like to think ill of human nature, but I don't like to be cheated either; and pound-notes are not so plenty with me that I can afford to throw them away. Give me some more tea. Hang the woman ! If it be as you think, she ought to be whipped at a cart's tail." He was not left long in doubt; for next day, back came the woman, and, as usual, dropped upon her knees.

"He's deid! he's deid! my feyther's deid and gane!" she cried. "He swarfed awa' at three o'clock in the mornin', and his last word was a blessin' for you. And now I maun get him kisted and laid in the grave, and hoo am I to do that when I haena a bawbee to mysel' ?"

"Had you not better apply to the parish," said my uncle.

"The parish!' cried she, with a howl of indignation - "the parish, did ye say? A bonny thing it wad be if a minister o' the Gospel, belonging to the Independent perswasion, was to be pit into the grund by the parish like a common gangrel! Na, na! nane o' yer parishes for me! Í wad wark my fingers aff, but I wad hae him buried decently, only I hae nae time."

"Really, I don't see what else you can do," said my uncle. "You don't expect me to bury him, surely?"

"Lord kens what I expect; for I'm a puir distracted woman-a weak orphan without a freend in the warld but yersel', and a kind freend ye've been to me and to him that's awa'. 'Jess,' said he to me, no ten minutes afore he was removed,-'Jess, my honny bairn, dinna greet for me. I hae naething to leave ye, but Doctor Buwhannan will no let ye starve: ye'll tell him that the auld man left him his blessing, and that I wad like to be laid in the Greyfriars,

"Woman!" cried my uncle, " this is perfectly intolerable! There's halfa-crown for you,-go about your business, and never let me see your face again!"

"Half-a-croun!" screamed Miss Jess, at the top of her voice. What am I to do wi' half-a-croun ? As gude offer me a penny! Half-acroun will no bury my feyther." "Bury him or not, 'tis all you get from me, so go about your business." "Eh, man, but ye hae a hard heart!' said Jess. "It's easy to be seen that ye're nane o' the Lord's lenders. But I'se awa' hame; and maybe ye'll no sleep the sounder this nicht for having turned yer back on the orphan !"

Determined to unravel the mystery, I followed Miss Jess. She ascended the Canongate with rapid strides until she reached the shop of a well-known spirit-dealer, which she entered; and after a brief space, emerged with a bottle in her hand. A little further up she turned into a close, and ascended a stair, unconscious that I was at her heels. After several spiral windings, she entered an apartment, the door of which was open, so that I could see the company. Sitting at the table with a pewter measure before him, was an old grey-haired man, whom I conjectured to be the defunct Independent minister, smoking a pipe. By him was seated a dirty shabbygenteel vagabond, evidently of the Jewish race, supported by a brace of unmistakable High Street harlots. To this worshipful company entered Miss Jess. I could not hear the commencement of her explanation, but the conclusion was perfectly satisfactory," I couldna get mair out o' the auld fule than half-a-crown. I tried it hard on him, but he's getting camsteary. Ony hoo, we've whisky eneuch for ae nicht; and noo, feyther, we'll drink your dirgie!"

That is but one instance out of many in which my uncle was made the victim of low imposture; but I fear he suffered more severely from swindlers of another sort. Few men attain middle age without being waited on by former class-fellowsmen whom they have known in their

youth; who, by their own showing, have been ruined by the villany of designing scoundrels. Sometimes the applicant wishes to have the loan of a hundred pounds or so, in order to repurchase, for the benefit of his children, some property which he had been compelled to part with ridiculously under its value. Sometimes he merely desires the advance of a small sum for an exigency in business, for he is always engaged in some kind of business,-and this he will repay, with thanks, in less than a couple of months. My poor uncle was, I must needs say, unfortunate in his class-fellows; for I know not how many of them availed themselves of his purse, but I know very well that no man ever paid him back. But the worst leech of all was a plausible oily rogue, whom I instinctively hated from the first moment I saw him-a smiling, obsequious rascal, who had always some scheme on hand, by which a man might, through moderate investment, secure an ample fortune. At one time it was a deserted and waterlogged coal-mine, with most wonderful seams, which only required to be pumped out in order to make a Croesus of the enterprising pumper. At another time it was a new invention to supersede gas, which would cost comparatively nothing, but the monopoly of which might be secured by taking out a patent. My uncle listened, and, as a matter of course, was taken in. I ought to speak of him reverently and tenderly, for it is my firm conviction that he cared little about money for his own sake, and only wished to have it in order that he might make a comfortable provision for myself. It is sad to think that the best, the kindest, and the most single-hearted of men should be destined, from these high and noble qualities, to be made the prey of the meanest and most despicable of creation.

Dr Buchanan partook in some degree of that delicacy of constitution which brought my poor mother to an early grave. He had indeed outlived the age when consumptive symptoms are usually manifested; but in many respects his mode of life was not conducive to longevity.

He took but little exercise, and was too abstemious for a man of his spare habit of body. Total abstinence is an excellent thing for your plethoric, pot-bellied fellows, who have a tendency of blood to the head; but it does not suit the lean and meagre, who absolutely require a stimulant to promote circulation and assist the digestive organs. I remember perfectly the circumstances to which I must attribute my uncle's death. It was a November night. The weather had been remarkably changeable, varying from frost to fog, and from fog to heavy rain; and as we sat together in the little drawing-room, the sound upon the cupola announced a perfect deluge. In the midst of this, and while we were congratulating ourselves upon being warmly and safely housed, a knock was heard at the door, and a message was brought in, to the effect that a poor woman in the Pleasance, an old servant of the Doctor, was in the pangs of labour, and that she entreated his assistance. Albeit not in the obstetric line, my uncle, who, I verily believe, would, if desired, have gone any distance to relieve the sufferings of a fellow-creature, put on his greatcoat, and, resisting all entreaties that he would tarry for a hackney-coach, which could not then have been procured without a great loss of time, sallied out in one of the worst nights which Edinburgh, infamous for such exhibitions, could display. I believe that he was thoroughly soaked before he reached the Pleasance; and, the case being a critical one, he did not return home until an early hour next morning. The result was a severe cold and cough, in spite of which he continued to lecture for several days, until the effort became too great for him, and then he took to his bed, murmuring at the misfortune which prevented him from discharging his duty to his class. As his lectures were for the most part written, and as his assistant was able-which 1 certainly was not-to exhibit the experimental part, I offered to officiate in his stead; but he rejected the proposition with something like testiness, declaring that, while he was alive, no man should read his lectures. Of course there was nothing more to be

said. Possessed by a sore malady, he lay and fretted himself, and instead of becoming better, he became daily and visibly worse.

Miserable I would have been (notwithstanding the care of Nurse Osett, who tended the sick man, night and day, with a pure affectionate feeling) if no one else had shown an interest in my dying uncle. But he had one friend whom he dearly loved, and who repaid that love by an attachment bordering on devotion. Edward, or Ned Mather, as he was more familiarly called, had inherited a small landed property somewhere in the north, and, I believe, had at one time studied for the bar: but his nature recoiled from the drudgery of a profession, for which, he said-I doubt not truly-that he had neither capacity nor inclination. He was a good, kind, simple-hearted soul, totally devoid of ambition, quite satisfied with an income which was just sufficient to enable him to live in comfort as a bachelor, and to indulge, at the right season of the year, in the sport of angling, the only pursuit for which he manifested any strong propensity. As for settling in life, by which phrase I mean contracting matrimony, that was a notion that never entered into his head. He did not affect the society of ladies, never went to evening parties, and rarely dined out except on the invitation of bachelors like himself. Characters like Ned Mather are by no means uncommon; but, as they make no manner of show, the world overlooks them altogether.

He was a gaunt, grey, elderly man, with an ungainly exterior, but with a heart as tender as that of a woman. He had been at the same school as Dr Buchanan, whom he regarded as an absolute prodigy of learning; and the intimacy so early formed had continued through life unbroken. No sooner did he learn that my uncle was seriously ill than he repaired to his bedside, and watched over him night and day with more than the solicitude of a brother. Honest Ned was a man of few words, and therefore never in the way. He would sit for hours beside his friend as he tossed on the fevered couch, the tears at times forcing their way down his

At last the crisis came.

"Ned," said my uncle, feebly, "give me your hand-"

Ned stooped down and kissed his forehead.

"You've been a dear friend to me, Ned-God bless you for it. I know I am dying. I have been a great sinner, but I trust in the mercy of God through the atonement of our blessed Redeemer. I may have thought too much about the world, and been impatient under my burden, but I never have forgotten Him, and that makes me easier now."

Poor Ned tried to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. He was sobbing like a child.

"Norman, my boy,come round here; my eyes are failing. Be a good lad, Norman; be upright, honourable, and true. Keep a clear conscience, and then, though the world should fail you, there's One above that will not. Ned, my old friend- my heart is sore about this laddie. I've made my will-you'll find it in my desk, Ned-but it's little I have to leave. Look after him, Ned, and see him put in the way of earning his bread. Now, God bless you both for ever and ever! Turn my face to the wall, Ned, and draw the curtain-so—”

Deeply did I mourn for my uncle. Throughout the years I dwelt beneath his roof, he had treated me with the utmost indulgence and affection, counselling rather than reproving me for any of my juvenile outbreaks, and amply supplying the loss of a father whom I never knew. Wiser men and more prudent there may have been than Dr Buchanan, but I have met with none kindlier of heart or more purely honourable than he was.

office; but unfortunately the last premium, which fell due about the time my uncle was taken ill, had not been paid, so that the benefit of the insurance was forfeited. After some deliberation it was determined that the house should be sold, and that I and Nurse Osett should go into furnished lodgings, the rent of which, and the estimated expenses of living, my limited means were just sufficient to defray. As to my ulterior destiny, that remained to be settled afterwards; but in the mean time it was thought expedient that I should go into an office, so that I might attain some knowledge of practical business, and moreover commence the necessary obligation of earning, through

industry, something for my own support. That is a lesson which cannot be learned too early; and I have often thought that many young men, with good prospects before them, might be saved from premature extravagance and ruin if they were betimes compelled to weigh the difficulty of gaining a shilling against the comparative ease of spending one. Before long an opportunity was afforded; for Mr Shearaway, Writer to the Signet, an old acquaintance of my uncle, hearing of my unfriended position, readily and kindly offered to take me into his establishment. And thus I became a limb of the law, in the subordinate capacity of a clerk.

I have no hesitation in avowing myself to be a Tory, in the most extended sense of the term. I never liked the name Conservative, which I take to have been invented for the purpose of justifying those deviations from principle which modern statesmen are so prone to commit in the race for political power. Principle is at all times, according to my view, a sacred thing. Expediency, which the Whigs and Peelites have tried hard to elevate to the rank of a morality, is at best but a pretext for abandoning the clear line of duty. It may be very expedient to pick another man's pocket, to shirk payment of a just and lawful debt, or to utter a flagrant falsehood. Sophistry may palliate such matters, or even strive to extenuate them on the ground that they were necessary transactions; but not the less on that account do they stand in direct opposition to the laws of honesty and truth.

Why should I be ashamed of calling myself a Tory, whereas many of the best and wisest men of the last and preceding generations were proud of the party title? I do not see that it implies the maintenance of any one opinion which a gentleman and man of honour need scruple to avow. As a Tory, I consider myself pledged to the support of the British constitution as by law defined. I stand for

hereditary monarchy, a hereditary Chamber of Peers, and a free House of Commons, holding that no better political arrangement could be invented for securing true liberty and wise government to the nation at large. I am for maintaining the established churches intact, with all their guaranteed rights, privileges, and possessions, believing that Church and State form but one edifice, and must stand or fall together. I look with detestation and abhorrence upon any attempt to alter or innovate these, which I hold to be the fundamental principles of the constitution; and I give my hearty malison to each and all of that malignant gang of democrats and dissenters, either in or out of Parliament, who affect to regard the Sovereign of these realms merely as the chief magistrate, who rail at the House of Lords as an antiquated nuisance, and who denounce the established Churches as remnants of medieval superstition, or as bloated corporations whose revenues ought to be confiscated, and applied to educational or other secular purposes. I say that I give to these men my hearty malison and exceeding cordial execration. They shall not eat of my bread nor drink of my cup, nor shall I be partaker of theirs. There is a limit to all things, even to forbearance; and toleration, though