ed Heaven to afflict her in an unusual de- had not the extensive grant of land which her gree. The Letters now published extend father obtained been, after the revolution, over a period of about thirty-five years; and included in the new State of Vermont, and in that time, Mrs. Grant had lost six daugh- confiscated as the property of a British offiters, in the early bloom, or full maturity of cer. A residence of some years in Glasgow, graceful or beautiful womanhood; all of at this time, must have added much to her them distinguished by talents and virtues. stores of knowledge, and was a period of She had also lost her eldest son. These great mental activity and general improvewere heavy trials, and fruitful, if painful, ment; though her vivacious and energetic themes for a mother's letters to those who mind had received its tone and impulse in had known and loved the endeared and America. amiable beings she lamented.

The literary gossip of the Modern Athens in its palmy days, or during the thirty years which Mrs. Grant resided in its circles, might promise to be an attractive feature in her correspondence; but we question if it will be so felt. The more remarkable of the persons of whom she speaks, have either forestalled her themselves, or she has been anticipated by their communicative friends. Mrs. Grant is, besides, a cautious writer, never personal, never satirical; and, moreover, her literary history is often inaccurate. It is superfluous to point out what was erroneous at the time, and is now of no consequence whatever. In short, Mrs. Grant must, for a good while, if not always, in her literary intimacies, have belonged to the dowager division of Edinburgh society, and could not have been in secrets-not, perhaps, much worth knowing.

lates

Of her Glasgow residence she re

With one family of the name of Pagan, to whose son we were known in America, I formed an affectionate intimacy. At their countryhouse, on the banks of the river Cart, near Glasgow, I spent part of three summers, which I look back upon as a valuable part of mental, perhaps I should rather say moral, education. Minds so pure, piety so mild, so cheerful and influential; manners so simple and artless, without the slightest tincture of hardness or vulgarity; such primitive ways of thinking, so much of the best genuine Scottish character, I have never met with, nor could ever have supposed to exist, had I not witnessed. Here were the reliques of the old Covenanters all around us; and here I enriched my memory with many curious traits of Scottish history and manners, by frequenting the cottages of the peasantry, and perusing what I could find on their smoky book-shelves. Here was education for the heart and mind, well adapted for the future lot which Providence assigned to me. With these friends, then a numerous family, I kept up an intimate connexion, which neither time nor absence interrupted.

The Memoir and Letters, which are modestly and unobtrusively edited by Mrs. Grant's son, the only survivor of a large It is to the daughters of this family, Mrs. family, who all, save himself, predeceased their mother, open with a brief sketch of her Brown of Glasgow, and Mrs. Smith of Jorearly life, from her own pen. It brings her dan Hill, that many of the "Letters from the personal history down to the opening of her Mountains" are addressed. Many of those "Letters from the Mountains ;" and this new in the new series are to the same stanch Mrs. Grant's father obtained the apseries terminates it, with a short account of her friends. latter years, by the editor. Her father and pointment of barrack-master at Fort Augusmother were both Highlanders. No drop of tus; and, still an untaught, unaccomplished, Sassenach blood flowed in the veins of Anne but a very clever, largely-informed, and enMacvicar, though she chanced to be born in thusiastic girl, she was transferred to the Glasgow. Her father, after her birth, enter- heart of the mountains. Upon her solid, ed the army; and her childhood, up to the self-earned Lowland and American acquireof various knowledge, of fourteen, was passed in America, at a ments and stores Dutch settlement below Albany, in the man- Highland romance and poesy were now lavner she has so fascinatingly described in the ishly superinduced by her residence at Fort "Memoirs of an American Lady." She may Augustus-then, though a kind of garrison, be said to have been, so far as schools and a much more solitary spot than it is now-and direct instruction are concerned, literally her subsequent residence in Laggan. In self-educated. Her mother taught her to 1779, she married the minister of that parread; and her intimacy and domestication ish, and became, in every sense, a true Highwith the " American Lady," her residence in the rustic court of Madame Schuyler, must have been of incalculable advantage to her. At the age of fifteen she returned to Scotland with her father and mother; and, as she was an only child, should have been an heiress,

age

land matron; proving not only how much virtue and happiness, but how many beautiful talents, how much of refining imagination and brightening fancy, are compatible with the lowliest duties of a wife and mother, and parish-helper; and with circumstances which

many of her future correspondents must have their mental education, but who needed the regarded as very narrow, indeed, if not miser- care and protection of a mother, on their inable poverty. In 1801, she lost her excel- troduction into life, and the affection and solent husband; and was left with a family of ciety of sisters. For many years, her house eight children, and not altogether free from was the home of a succession of young ladies debt. But she had firm faith and high cour-of this description; and she appears to have age, and the talent of attracting and attach- had much satisfaction in the character and ing admirable friends, who again interested affection of these pupils, or inmates, whose other friends in her behalf and in that of her presence threw a brilliancy around her famfamily. Nor were her literary talents with-ily circle. But it is more than time that we out their influence. From almost childhood allowed Mrs. Grant to speak for herself. As she had scribbled verses; and now her pat- an example of her tact and self-respect, we rons and friends issued proposals for publish- select the following letter, addressed to Mr. ing a volume of her poetry. It proved the Hatsell, Clerk to the House of Commons. most successful attempt of the kind ever It was written while Mrs. Grant was in Lonmade, we believe, in Scotland; and was but don, sending her eldest son to India, having an earnest of the very remarkable kindness obtained a cadetship for him through the inwhich Mrs. Grant afterwards met with interest of the late Mr. Charles Grant, the East quarters where she could have no claim, save India Director :that conferred by her virtues and talents, and the condition of her family. Through Mr. George Chalmers, the author of "ČaledoLondon, 2d May, 1805. nia," she received, in one sum, three hundred pounds, the contribution of three deavor to recall to your memory a person of SIR,-The purpose of this address is to enprincely London merchants, Messrs. Anger- whom you had a very slight knowledge indeed, stein, Thomson, & Bonar. A number of at Fort Augustus, thirty years ago, then a girl ladies in Boston published her Letters by of seventeen, and in whose father's house you subscription; and transmitted her, at differ-resided while there. Since that time I was hap ent times, considerable sums.

To JOHN HATSELL, ESQ., House of Commons

London.

Other generpily and respectably married to a gentleman of ous individuals appear to have materially asthat country, who was minister of an adjoining parish, and chaplain to the 90th regiment. He sisted her in her struggles; and her publish- was a man of much humanity and generosity. ers, the house of Longman & Co., acted to- We lived in an open and hospitable manner, wards her with a liberality of which she was and had twelve children, of whom eight remain. warmly sensible. They not only gave her I hasten to the sad sequel. Three years ago, the fair share of profits on her "Letters from a sudden death deprived us of the best of husbands and fathers. To his young and helpthe Mountains," to which she was entitled, less family his character and example are a rich but, as a free gift, a considerable part of their inheritance. I do not fear that they will feel abown profits. In her latter years she obtained solute want, nor were they left absolutely desticonsiderable legacies from old pupils and a tute. My friends, however, urged me to publish pension of a hundred a-year; and one of her a volume of occasional verses, which I had wrote patrons, Sir William Grant, Master of the to please them or myself. This volume I have Rolls, left her an annuity to the same taken the liberty of sending you, not to solicit your name, or derive any advantage in that amount. This, with her other funds, and anway; far otherwise. I do not mention my adnuity as the widow of a Scottish clergyman, dress, to prevent the possibility of having my with her moderate tastes, rendered her old motive mistaken. But, having come to town to age easy and independent.To return: send my eldest son to the East Indies, and consoon after the death of her husband, Mrs. clude some other matters relative to my family, Grant removed, with her large family, to happened to hear you spoken of as a worthy Stirling, in which she resided for some years. the time I met with you, the finest gentleman I and benevolent character; thinking you, too, at Her elder daughters, who had received many ever saw, I was very attentive to your conversamore advantages of education than their tion, and remarked that you had a taste for litemother, were now of an age to assist her in rature. These are the circumstances that have any plan of active usefulness; and she re-induced me thus to commit myself, by placing a ceived into her family some little boys, of a confidence in you that may lead you to think class that could afford to pay her handsome- oddly of me. I cannot help it. You will never ly, in order to prepare them for school. This see nor hear of me more: and if you do not atscheme was afterwards relinquished for one tend to my simple request, forget, I beg of you, that ever I made it. more suitable to her family circumstances; You see, by the subscribers' list, that my own and, settling in Edinburgh, she received a country-people are interested in me, and have select number of young ladies of good for-treated me with unexampled kindness; yet my tune, who had finished their school, if not circumstances rendering it difficult for me to ed

I

ucate so large a family without encroaching on "glorious and immortal;" but, in the trying their little capital, I am now about to publish era of Pitt, she seems to have become a hightwo small volumes, without my name, of juvenile flying Tory, and in old age she was a Legiticorrespondence, genuine and unaltered, under

the title of "Letters from the Mountains." Now, mist or Carlist who had never been a JacobI send you my poetical volume, first, in return for ite; and sent presents of ptarmigan to Holytwo books you gave me at Fort Augustus; and, rood to the Duchess of Angoulême, and next, that you may read it; and if you think as wrote pretty verses to the little Duke of kindly of it as many others have done, it will per-Bourdeaux. Nay, more, she obtained a new haps interest you in the writer, or, what is much light upon the subject of Antichrist, and disbetter, in a large family of orphans belonging to a covered him to be, not the Pope, as all Reworthy man. You will, in that case, use your formed Scotland had ever believed, but the influence, which I know is extensive, to make the intended publication known. I do not ex- French Encyclopedists. The Reform Bill pect you to recommend it, because that is use- appeared, to her, to threaten the end of the less, if it wants merit, and needless if it has. world, or the complete overthrow of religion Longman and Rees are my publishers; they and social order. But these notions were so have some volumes of the work herewith sent far harmless, that they excited no rancorous on hand: these, too, I wish you to make known. feeling towards those of her friends who enIt would gratify me, if you would send a note to Longman and Rees, desiring to have the "Let-tertained opposite opinions. They are, inters from the Mountains" sent you when they deed, by a younger generation, rather to be are published. If you are a man of delicacy laughed at than seriously animadverted on. and benevolence, you will do this, to show you We must now introduce a few of the illustritake my confidence in good part; if not, be at ous personages whom she describes to her least a man of honor;-burn this letter, never friends, and who, indeed, form, with the exmention it, and forget the ill-judged presumption ception of the few family letters, the best staple of her correspondence. In March 1810, nearly a lifetime since, she writes:

of your obedient humble servant,

ANNE GRANT.

a

Many months elapsed; but Mrs. Grant at last heard from this cautious gentleman, and afterwards found in him an active and useful friend. He brought her book, and her personal history, under the notice of the Bishop of London, the venerable Dr. Porteus, who criticised and corrected her Letters for second edition, keeping out some of the more trivial letters. It might be wished that some one had performed a similar friendly office for the present collection, which a near relative can never be the best qualified to perform. During her residence in London at this time, Mrs. Grant acquired several useful and pleasant friends; and among others Mrs. Hook, one of the daughters of the fortunate Scottish physician, Sir Walter Farquhar. To this lady, the wife of Dr. James Hook, afterwards an archdeacon of the English church, and the mother of Dr. Walter Hook of Leeds, many of her most elaborate letters were subsequently addressed. Her English friends were all High Church, and high Tory and so was she, as she takes very great pains to assure them, often going out of her way to express contempt and dislike for the politics of the Liberal party and of The Edinburgh Review; and for a something -an abstraction, about which nobody seems to have any definite idea-which Cobbett was wont to call Scotch feelosophy, and English High Churchmen, with their ladies, and Mrs. Grant, "Scotch metaphysics." In her youth, Mrs. Grant must have been a trueblue Presbyterian Whig, and admirer of the

:

both called on me, not by any means as a scribWalter Scott and the formidable Jeffrey have bling female, but on account of links formed by mutual friends. You would think, by their appearance, that the body of each was formed to lodge the soul of the other. Having met them both formerly, their appearance was not any thing new to me: but Jeffrey looks the poet all the visibly quick perceptions, keep one's attenover-the ardent eye, the nervous agitation, tion constantly awake, in expectation of flashes of the peculiar intelligence of genius: nor is that expectation entirely disappointed: for his conversation is in a high degree fluent and animated. Walter Scott, again, has not a gleam of poetic fire visible in his countenance, which merely suggests the idea of plain good sense; his conceptions do not strike you as by any means so rapid or so brilliant as those of his critic; yet there is much amusement and variety in his good-humored, easy, and unaffected conversation.

Some months later, she remarks of Jeffrey :

his manifold literary offences, I think I shall be Do you know, notwithstanding my wrath for forced to like the Arch-Critic himself. He is, what, indeed, I knew before, the most affectionate relation possible, and truly good-natured in society, though so petulant on paper.

I

and I have behaved to each other. For some must tell you how the Arch-Critic, Mr. Jeffrey, time past I met him at parties, and I thought he looked odd and avoided me. Something I knew there was, but was not in the least aware that it was a criticism, having been told formerly that he resolved to let me alone. I was, however, obliged to have, what I much dislike, a small party in summer, on account of some

strangers whose friends had strong claims on my attention. I boldly sent a note to the critic, saying, that if he had renounced me, he should at once tell me so, like a brave man as he was; if not, to come on Wednesday evening, and meet some people whom I knew he did like. He answered, that, so far from renouncing, he had thought of me more than any body else for some days past; and if a little packet he was about to send me to-morrow, did not make me retract my invitation, he should gladly wait on me. 1 got, next day, the threatened packet, now before the public. Here follows the accompanying note, as far as I recollect it,-"When I review the works of my friends, if I can depend on their magnanimity as much as I think I can on yours, I let them know what I say of them before they are led out to execution. When I take up my reviewing pen, I consider myself as entering the temple of truth, and bound to say what I think."

Mrs. Grant professed herself satisfied. Seven years after this, we find her writing about a brilliant critique on Byron from Jeffrey's pen, with which the Edinburgh coteries were ringing, and giving him, though on a quite different score, praise, which we conceive very high praise indeed, when the reckless extravagance, folly, and paltry ambition, which shortly afterwards plunged so many of his contemporaries into embarrassment, bankruptcy, and every sort of meanness and misery, are considered. Mrs. Grant tells that she dined at Mr. Jeffrey's

A comparatively small and select party, where every one could see and hear each other, proved very pleasant. At this house I greatly admire the respectable, yet simple and moderate style of the furniture, entertainment, &c. This, in such persons, is the perfection of good sense: it would be as absurd for people, who, in the most literal sense of the phrase, live by their wits, to enter into rivalry of this kind with the great and wealthy, as it would be for these to try to excel Jeffrey in critical acumen, or Scott in poetry.

Mrs. Grant frequently expatiates upon the good nature, the simplicity of manners, and ecdote of him is related. unpretending ways of Scott. One good an

A young lady from England, very ambitious of distinction, and thinking the outrageous admiration of genius was nearly as good as the possession of it, was presented to Walter Scott, and had very nearly gone through the regular forms of swooning sensibility on the occasion. Being afterwards introduced to Mr. Henry Mackenzie, she bore it better, but kissed his hand with admiring veneration. It is worth_telling for the sake of Mr. Scott's comment. He said, "Did you ever hear the like of that English lass, to faint at the sight of a cripple clerk of Session, and kiss the dry withered hand of an old taxgatherer!"

Scott, as every body knows, was a Clerk of Session; and the Man of Feeling held the office of Comptroller of Taxes.

The parish of Laggan lies in the Duke of Gordon's principality; and the Duchess had taken a warm interest in Mrs. Grant and her family, though she had never seen her previous to her widowhood, and, indeed, only once or twice during her whole life. Of that great lady, who then made so brilliant a gure in the highest circles of London, as not only the leader of fashion, but the friend of the minister of the day, Mrs. Grant appears to have formed a true idea. While living in Stirling she writes to Mr. Hatsell :—

I was sitting quietly at the fireside one night lately, when I was summoned, with my eldest daughter, to attend the Duchess of Gordon. We spent the evening with her at her inn; and very amusing and original she certainly is: extraordinary she is determined to be, wherever she is, and whatever she does. She speaks of you in very high terms, which, you know, always happens in the case of those whom the Duchess

delighteth to honor:" as the highest testimonial of your merit that she can give, she says had; and then she pronounced an eloquent euloyou were one of the greatest favorites Mr. Pitt gium on that truly great man. Her Grace's present ruling passion is literature,-to be the arbitress of literary taste, and the patroness of ge

In reference to the puerile and ribald attacks made on the "Arch-Critic" by the early contributors to Blackwood-by young men trying to write themselves into notice, and not very scrupulous about the means-nius,-a distinction for which her want of early Mrs. Grant remarks:

culture, and the flutter of a life devoted to very different pursuits, has rather disqualified her ; yet The town is in an uproar about the Chaldee she has strong flashes of intellect, which are, manuscript in Blackwood's Magazine. however, immediately lost in the formless confuLiterary gossip here holds the place of the petty sion of a mind ever hurried on by contending personalities in little country towns, and of the passions and contradictory objects, of which one more important concerns of foreign commerce can never be attained without the relinquishin greater ones. Formerly these were very ment of others. She reminds me, at present, of harmless contests; but people have got such a what has been said of the ladies of the old rétaste for war and strong sensations, that what gime in France, who, when they could no longer they cannot find they will make. Jeffrey is the lead up the dance of gaiety and fashion, set up Buonaparte of literature here; and I think this for beaux esprits, and decided on the merits of confederacy of petulant young men seem en-authors. couraged to attack him by the fate of his prototype.

Having said all this of her Grace, it is but fair to add, that in one point she never varies, which

is active, nay, most industrious benevolence. Mrs. Baillie (for so her elder sister chooses to Silver and gold she has not, but what she has be distinguished) people like in their hearts bether interest, her trouble, her exertions-she||ter than Mrs. Joanna, though they would not for gives with unequalled perseverance. She was at as much pains to seek out an orphan, the son of a gentleman who died lately in the Highlands, leaving a numerous unprovided family; she was at as much pains to seek out this orphan, who lodged in some obscure corner of Stirling, as if he had been a fit match for her granddaughter who accompanied her.

alone. At nine I went, and found Walter Scott, whom I had never before met in society, though we had exchanged distant civilities; Lady Your scruples in detaching yourself, in the Keith, Johnson's Queeney, and an English lady, duties of public worship, from your family, must witty and fashionable-looking, who came and have been, to your feeling mind, of much weight, went with Mr. Scott. No people could be more and, I am sure, unmixed with any lower motive. easy and pleasant, without the visible ambition But I think you are well aware that I do not exof shining; yet animated, and seeming to feel at tend this indulgence of opinion to all females home with each other. I think Mr. Scott's ap- who choose a separate path; my observation of pearance very unpromising, and common-place life having warranted me in the opinion, that a indeed; yet though no gleam of genius animates love of distinction and consequence, among a his countenance, much of it appears in his con- certain set, has more to do with it than the subversation, which is rich, various, easy, and ani-jects of this censure of mine are at all aware of. mated, without the least of the petulance with which the Faculty, as they call themselves, are not unjustly reproached.