The Ayrshire Legatees

Of Wood, who was twice Lord Mayor, I know not what to say. There is a

queer and wily cast in his pale countenance, that puzzles me exceedingly.

In common parlance I would call him an empty vain creature; but when I

look at that indescribable spirit, which indicates a strange and

out-of-the-way manner of thinking, I humbly confess that he is no common

man. He is evidently a person of no intellectual accomplishments; he has

neither the language nor the deportment of a gentleman, in the usual

understanding of the term; and yet there is something that I would almost

call genius about him. It is not cunning, it is not wisdom, it is far

from being prudence, and yet it is something as wary as prudence, as

effectual as wisdom, and not less sinister than cunning. I would call it

intuitive skill, a sort of instinct, by which he is enabled to attain his

ends in defiance of a capacity naturally narrow, a judgment that topples

with vanity, and an address at once mean and repulsive. To call him a

great man, in any possible approximation of the word, would be

ridiculous; that he is a good one, will be denied by those who envy his

success, or hate his politics; but nothing, save the blindness of

fanaticism, can call in question his possession of a rare and singular

species of ability, let it be exerted in what cause it may. But my paper

is full, and I have only room to subscribe myself, faithfully, yours, A. PRINGLE.

"It appears to us," said Mr. Snodgrass, as he folded up the letter to

return it to his pocket, "that the Londoners, with all their advantages

of information, are neither purer nor better than their fellow-subjects

in the country." "As to their betterness," replied Miss Mally, "I have a

notion that they are far waur; and I hope you do not think that earthly

knowledge of any sort has a tendency to make mankind, or womankind

either, any better; for was not Solomon, who had more of it than any

other man, a type and testification, that knowledge without grace is but

vanity?" The young clergyman was somewhat startled at this application

of a remark on which he laid no particular stress, and was thankful in

his heart that Mrs. Glibbans was not present. He was not aware that Miss

Mally had an orthodox corn, or bunyan, that could as little bear a touch

from the royne-slippers of philosophy, as the inflamed gout of polemical

controversy, which had gumfiated every mental joint and member of that

zealous prop of the Relief Kirk. This was indeed the tender point of

Miss Mally's character; for she was left unplucked on the stalk of single

blessedness, owing entirely to a conversation on this very subject with

the only lover she ever had, Mr. Dalgliesh, formerly helper in the

neighbouring parish of Dintonknow. He happened incidentally to observe,

that education was requisite to promote the interests of religion. But

Miss Mally, on that occasion, jocularly maintained, that education had

only a tendency to promote the sale of books. This, Mr. Dalgliesh

thought, was a sneer at himself, he having some time before unfortunately

published a short tract, entitled, "The moral union of our temporal and

eternal interests considered, with respect to the establishment of

parochial seminaries," and which fell still-born from the press. He

therefore retorted with some acrimony, until, from less to more, Miss

Mally ordered him to keep his distance; upon which he bounced out of the

room, and they were never afterwards on speaking terms. Saving, however,

and excepting this particular dogma, Miss Mally was on all other topics

as liberal and beneficent as could be expected from a maiden lady, who

was obliged to eke out her stinted income with a nimble needle and a

close-clipping economy. The conversation with Mr. Snodgrass was not,

however, lengthened into acrimony; for immediately after the remark which

we have noticed, she proposed that they should call on Miss Isabella Tod

to see Rachel's letter; indeed, this was rendered necessary by the state

of the fire, for after boiling the kettle she had allowed it to fall low.

It was her nightly practice after tea to take her evening seam, in a

friendly way, to some of her neighbours' houses, by which she saved both

coal and candle, while she acquired the news of the day, and was

occasionally invited to stay supper.