degrees-learned, commercial, and even medical, of the inhabitants; our arrival at Edinburgh-my emotion on beholding the castle, and the visionary lake which may be nightly seen from the windows of Prince's street, between the old and new town, reflecting the lights of the lofty city beyond-with a thousand other delightful and romantic circumstances, which render it no longer surprising that the Edinburgh folk should be, as they think themselves, the most accomplished people in the world. But alas, from the moment I placed my foot on board that cruel vessel, of which the very idea is anguish-all thoughts were swallowed up in suffering-swallowed, did I say? ah, my dear Bell, it was the odious reverse-but imagination alone can do justice to the subject. Not, however, to dwell on what is past, during the whole time of our passage from Leith, I was unable to think, far less to write-and, although there was a handsome young officer belonging to the celebrated Glasgow Huzzars, also a passenger, I could not even listen to the elegant compliments which he seemed disposed to offer by way of consolation, when he had got the better of his own sickness. Neither love nor valour can withstand the influence of that sea demon. The interruption thus occasioned to my observations, made me destroy my journal, and I have now to write to you only about London-only about London! What an expression for this human universe, as my brother calls it, as if my weak femenine pen were equal to the stupendous theme!

But before entering on the subject, let me first satisfy the anxiety of your faithful bosom with respect to my father's legacy. All the accounts, I am happy to tell you, are likely to be amicably settled, but the exact amount is not known as yet, only I can see, by my brother's manner, that it is not less than we expected, and my mother speaks about sending me to a boarding school to learn accomplishments; nothing, however, is to be done until something is actually in hand. But what does it all avail to me?-here am I, a solitary being in the midst of this wilderness of mankind, far from your sympathizing affection, with the dismal prospect before me of going a second time to school, and without the prospect of enjoying, with my own sweet companions, that light and bounding gaiety we were wont to share in skipping from tomb to tomb in the breezy churchyard of Irvine, like butterflies in spring, flying from flower to flower, as a Wordsworth or a Wilson would express it.

We have got elegant lodgings at present in Norfolk-street, but my brother is trying, with all his address, to get us removed to a more fashionable part of the town, which, if the accounts were once settled, I think will take place and he proposes to hire a carriage for a whole month; indeed, he has given hints about the saving that might be made by buying one of our own; but my mother shakes her head, and says, " Andrew dinna be carrit,"-from all which it is very plain, though they don't allow me to know their secrets, that the legacy is worth the coming for. But, to return to the lodgings, we have what is calfed a first and second floor, a drawing room, and three handsome bed-chambers. The drawing room is very elegant; and the carpet is the exact same pattern of the one in the dress-drawing-room of Eglintoun castle. Our landlady is indeed a lady, and I am surprised how she should think of letting lodgings, for she dresses better, and wears finer lace, than ever I saw in Irvine. But I am interrupted.

I now resume my pen-we have just had a call from Mrs. and Miss Argent, the wife and daughter of the Colonel's man of busi ness. They seem great people, and came in their own chariot, with two grand footmen behind; but they are pleasant and easy, and the object of their visit was to invite us to a family dinner to morrow, Sunday. I hope we may become better acquainted; but the two livery servants make such a difference in our degrees, that I fear this is a vain expectation. Miss Argent, was, however, very frank, and told me that she was herself only just come to London for the first time since she was a child, having been for the last seven years at a school in the country. I shall, however, be better able to say more about her in my next letter. Do not, however, be afraid that she shall ever supplant you in my heart-no, my dear friend, companion of my days of innocence,--that can never be― but this call from such persons of fashion, looks as if the legacy had given us some consideration; so that I think my father and mother may as well let me know at once what my prospects are, that I might show you how disinterestedly and truly I am, my dear Bell, yours,

RACHEL PRINGLE.

When Miss Isabella Todd had read the letter, Mr. M'Gruel says, there was a solemn pause for some time-all present knew something, more or less, of the fair writer; but a carriage, a car

pet, like the best at Eglintoun, a Glasgow Huzzar, and two footmen in livery, were phantoms of such high import, that no one could distinctly express the feelings with which the intelligence affected them. It was, however, unanimously agreed, that the doctor's legacy had every symptom of being equal to what it was at first expected to be, namely, twenty thousand pounds;-a sum which, by some occult or recondite moral influence of the Lottery, is the common maximum, in popular estimation, of any extraordinary and indefinite windfall of fortune. Miss Becky Glibbans, from the purest motives of charity, devoutly wished that poor Rachel might be able to carry her full cup with a steady hand; and the Rev. Mr. Snodgrass, that so commendable an expression might not lose its edifying effect, by any lighter talk, requested Mr. Micklewham to read his letter from the doctor.

LETTER IX.

The Rev. Z. Pringle, D. D. to Mr. Micklewham, Schoolmaster and Session Clerk of Garnock.

London.

DEAR SIR, I have written by the post that will take this to hand, a letter to Banker M********y, at Irvine, concerning some small matters of money that I may stand in need of his opinion anent; and as there is a prospect now of a settlement of the legacy business, I wish you to take a step over to the banker, and he will give you ten pounds, which you will administer to the poor, by putting a twenty shilling note in the plate on Sunday, as a public testimony from me of thankfulness for the hope that is before us; the other nine pounds you will quietly, and in your own canny way, divide after the following manner, letting none of the partakers thereof know from what other hand than the Lord's the help comes, for indeed from whom but His does any good befall us.

Mrs. Binacle,

You will give to auld Mizy Eccles ten shillings. She's a careful creature, and it will go as far with her thrift as twenty will do with Effy Hopkirk; so you will give Effy twenty. who lost her husband, the sailor, last winter, is, I am sure, with her two sickly bairns, very ill aff; I would therefore like if you will lend her a note, and ye may put half a crown in the hand of each of the poor weans for a playock, for she's a proud spirit, and

will bear much before she complain. Thomas Dowy has been long unable to do a turn of work, so you may give him a note too. I promised that donsy body, Willy Shachle, the betherel, that when I got my legacy, he should get a guinea, which would be more to him than if the Colonel had died at home, and he had had the howking of his grave; you may therefore, in the mean time, give Willy a crown, and be sure to warn him well not to get fou with it, for I'll be very angry if he does. But what in this matter will need all your skill, is the giving of the remaining five pounds to auld Miss Betty Peerie; being a gentlewoman both by blood and education, she's a very slimmer affair to handle in a doing of this kind. But I am persuaded she's in as great necessity as many that seem far poorer, especially since the muslin flowering has gone so down. Her bits of brats are sairly worn, though she keeps out an apparition of gentility. Now, for all this trouble, I will give you an account of what we have been doing since my last.

When we had gotten ourselves made up in order, we went with Andrew Pringle, my son, to the counting-house, and had a satisfactory vista of the residue, but it will be some time before things can be settled indeed, I fear, not for months to come so that I have been thinking, if the parish was pleased with Mr. Snodgrass, it might be my duty to my people to give up to him my stipend, and let him 'be' appointed not only helper, but successor likewise. It would not be right of me to give the manse, both because he's a young and inexperienced man, and cannot, in the course of nature, have got into the way of visiting the sick-beds of the frail, which is the main part of a pastor's duty, and likewise because I wish to die, as I have lived, among my people. But when all's settled, I will know better what to do.

When we had got an inkling from Mr. Argent of what the Colonel has left, and I do assure you, that money is not to be got, even in the way of legacy, without anxiety,-Mrs. Pringle and I consulted together, and resolved that it was our first duty, as a token of our gratitude to the Giver of all Good, to make our first outlay to the poor. So without saying a word either to Rachel, or to Andrew Pringle, my son, knowing that there was a daily worship in the church of England, we slipped out of the house by ourselves, and hiring a hackney conveyance, told the driver thereof to drive us to the high church of St. Paul's. This was out of no respect to the pomp and pride of prelacy, but to Him

before whom both pope and presbyter are equal, as they are seen, through the merits of Christ Jesus. We had taken a golden guinea in our hand, but there was no broad at the door, and instead of a venerable elder lending sanctity to his office, by reason of his age, such as we see in the effectual institutions of our own national church-the door was kept by a young man, much more like a writer's whipper-snapper-clerk than one qualified to fill that station, which good king David would have preferred to dwelling in tents of sin. However, we were not come to spy the nakedness of the land, so we went up the outside stairs, and I asked at him for the plate : " Plate !" says he, "why it's on the altar!” I should have known this-the custom of old being to lay the offerings on the altar, but I had forgot, such is the force you see of habit, that the Church of England is not so well reformed and purged as ours is from the abominations of the leaven of idolatry. We were then stepping forward, when he said to me as sharply as if I was going to take an advantage, "you must pay here;" very well, wherever it is customary,” said I, in a meek manner, and gave him the guinea. Mrs. Pringle did the same. not give you change," cried he, with as little decorum as if we had been paying at a playhouse. "It makes no odds," said I, "keep it all.". Whereupon he was so converted by the mammon of iniquity, that he could not be civil enough he thoughtbut conducted us in and showed us the marble nonuments, and the French colours that were taken in the war, till the time of worship-nothing could surpass his discretion.

"I can

At last the organ began to sound, and we went into the place of worship-but, O Mr. Micklewham, yon is a thin kirk. There was not a hearer forby Mrs. Pringle and me, saving and excepting the relics of popery that assisted at the service. What was said I must, however, in verity confess was not far from the point. But it's still a comfort to see that prelatical' usurpations are on the downfal; no wonder that there is no broad at the door to receive the collection for the poor, when no congregation entereth in. You may, therefore, tell Mr. Craig, and it will gladden his heart to hear the tidings, that the great Babylonian madam is now, indeed, but a very little cutty.

On our return home to our lodgings, we found Andrew Pringle, my son, and Rachel, in great consternation about our absence. When we told them that we had been at worship, I saw they were