"Aweel, sir! its a lang story, but I'll e'en mak a short ane of it, for I reckon its near kirk time, and I wad nae miss hearing the lad for auld acquaintance sake. Aweel, sir, as I was saying, Sandy Glenarchy and his wife lost ane of their bairns, an a fine healthfu' chield be was, for I saw him mysel laid out in his winding sheet, an ye may be sure they were sairly cut up about it, for t'other chield, that is, young Mattie, was na muckle sonsie, as I said before, an they nivir thought he wad come to anything, an Jeannie was but a wee bit of a bairn, when the night afore Charlie was buried, in the dead of night, a loud knocking was heard at the door, an afore they had time to open it, a tall, thin man walked in, an he was awfu' to leuk at, an he went up to Peggy, wha was wailing over her bairn, an he bade her get up an not sorrow for the dead, for the chield was at rest in Heaven: then he went up to Mattie an prayed over him, an said that he suld live to be a great an a wise man; then Sandy, wha was there, an was as white as a sheet, took courage to say, 'How can that be, for the bairn has fits, an we canna get him to tak notice of aught?' then the awfu' man laid his hand on the lad's head, and muttered some words in another tongue, an fra that hour the bairn mended, and wasna like the same." "Well, and what become of this wonderful man?" said the stranger, scarcely able to repress a smile. Aye, sir, here comes the secret of the story, for whilst Sandy and Peggy were leuking all amaze at puir Mattie, all of a sudden there was a great noise like a clap of thunder, an whether he went awa wi' it they nivir could tell, but when they leaked up he was gane, an they nivir saw him mair; sae some folk said the lad was uncanny, an it was nane but the auld enemy had touched him; however, it passed over at last, au the bairn came on all of a sudden an took to his larning, an—” Stay," interrupted the stranger, "I think I have heard something of this singular story before; but were there not two gentlemen ?" 66 Na, na, ye are clear mista'en there, sir," said the talkative hostess, colouring at the idea of her veracity being doubted, "though to be sure it was said sae at the time, an our auld minister wanted to persuade folk that it was twa younkers travelling, but I kenned better, for, says I, did ever an not any body hear of twa gentlemen coming to Deither of them ganging to the Blue Bells. Its na vera like that, and I suld hae kenned weel aneugh if they had, though I was but a lassie at the time; na, na, I canna be mista❜en; but I reckon, sir, its a maist time to be ganging down to the kirk. I wadna hae ye be vera late ;" and then, as if fearing she should be more closely questioned, the good woman bustled away. It is surely needless to add that the gentleman whom the landlady of the Blue Bells so kindly amused with this marvellous tale was no other than the principal actor in it, and, as he slowly pursued his way to the kirk, he could not wholly suppress his risible feelings at the idea of the prodigious bustle his appearance had caused in the village so many years ago, though there was a degree of melancholy blended in his sensations when he thought of the changes those fleeting years had made in him. It was an interesting sight to observe the inhabitants of D- issuing from their cottages, and all flocking, as it were, with one accord to the house of prayer. Here was the sturdy peasant marching at the head of his young family, and the sober matron, with her head encircled in a kerchief of the purest white; whilst behind them strayed the village damsels, each carrying her prayerbook neatly folded in a linen handkerchief, half serious, balf coqueting, with the sun-burnt, plaided youths; whilst still further in the rear were seen advancing the more tardy steps of age, some supporting themselves on crutches, others leaning on the arms of those whom nature and affection pointed out for their best support-their children; but all bearing an appearance of great cleanliness, gravity, and decorum. The stranger from the Blue Bells was the last to enter the sacred edifice. The service had already commenced, and the minister stood in his place, pale, firm, and tolerably cotlected; but vain was the endeavour to trace in his countenance any resemblance to the poor neglected boy who had formerly excited so much compassion. Matthew Glenarchy was certainly calculated for the pulpit, for, when there, his lameness could not be observed, and the folds of his surplice concealed what otherwise was a great defect-his habitual stoop; besides, in his care-worn visage there was an expression of great patience and genuine mildness, which cha racterized well with his holy office, and the fire that but rarely sparkled from his eyes, seemed kindled by the enthusiasm of his zeal. On a seat nearest the pulpit sat the new minister's relations, who were easily distinguished from the rest of the congregation by the singular anxiety they displayed. The old man, restless and perturbed, seemed unable to sit still a moment together; one instant he shook back his silvered locks, and his face beamed with renovated hope and delight, and again his brow was wrinkled with anxiety, and he looked fearful and tremulous; at length, unable to command himself any longer, he rose, and, walking with unsteady steps, drew near that side of the pulpit where his son could not see him, and remained leaning against it, with his back turned to the congregation, till the service concluded. The mother's face was concealed by her handkerchief, yet those nearest her saw that her bosom heaved convulsively, and once or twice her sobs were very audible; whilst Jeannie's clear blue eyes glistened with all a sister's hopes, and her heightened colour betrayed no slight emotion. The opening prayer was, according to the usual custom, delivered extempore: it was long and impressive, consisting chiefly of ejaculations, and verses of Scripture; at first the preacher's voice was low and tremulous, he seemed to feel that on this effort depended, in a great measure, his future success and the hopes of his beloved family, and he dreaded to disappoint them; but as the fervor of his spirit seemed gradually to awaken, so did his voice rise higher and higher till it gained its accustomed energy, and then all his mortal feelings gave place to the sublimer views of the Christian. The sermon was a composition admirably adapted to the occasion: slightly and yet affectionately he touched upon the merits of his predecessor, and from thence, with great pathos, spoke of the relative duties of life, and the gratitude which children owed to the authors of their existence, summing up the whole by a comparison between the duty we owe to God and our parents. To an Englishman, accustomed to speak and decide rapidly, there may at first appear something singular in the slow and solemn manner of our northern brethren; but in the pulpit this peculiarity is not so striking, because we then expect a greater degree of precision than at any other time. There was an elegance in Mattie's language, notwithstanding his broad dialect, which delighted and astonished one, at least, of his hearers; beautiful from its very simplicity; it breathed the true essence of pure and animated eloquence, softened by the genuine spirit of Christianity. At first it was imposible not to behold pourtrayed in him the dutiful and affectionate son, so gently and so sweetly did he speak of parental hopes and filial obedience; but as the subject opened before him, and he expatiated at length on the bounty and love of a heavenly Parent, his voice became elevated almost to a tone of rapture, and his eyes sparkled with unusual brightness. now, "Eh! Jeannie, lassie, I suppose ye winna speak to me sin Maister Mattie is grown sic a fine man, an sic a great preacher," said Robin Dugald, as he waited for Jeannie near the kirk door. "Dinna say sae, Robin," exclaimed Jeannie, smiling through the most joyous tears she had ever shed; " 1 ken weel aneugh there be few sic clever folk as our Mattie, but that is no raison at all against ye, because ye ken I'm no sic a clever body mysel; an, as Mattie himsel says, we maun all keep in our ain spheres.' The stranger arrived at the manse soon after Mattie had led thither his happy parents, and was received by the whole party with that unrestrained freedom and native hospitality which results from light hearts anxious to extend their own pleased emotions to all around them. But when he mentioned having once met them before, and introduced himself as an English clergyman, who, twenty years since, had, in company with his friend, a young physician, been travelling through Aberdeenshire, and had partaken of their hospitality, the surprise and delight of the little group was beyond imagination. Peggy caught his hand and pressed it repeatedly to her lips, bursting into tears; whilst Sandy pointed to his son, exclaiming, "There he be, God bless him! an its all owing to ye, I ken vera weel. Mattie, lad, Jeannie, lassie, dinna ye hear, that is the gude gentleman your mither an I hae sae often talked about." "Oh !" cried Peggy, "that ivir I suld hae lived to see this blessed day: it has been the joy of my heart to see that dear bairn stand up in gude Maister Mac Iveson's place; an then, that ye suld hae come agin, is mair than I could bae thought; and doubtless ye hae heard him preach. Eh! sir, it went to my heart like inspiration, an-” She would have said more, had not ber attention been arrested by seeing her son, usually so grave and solemn in his movements, suddenly throw himself at the feet of the stranger, and in broken language pour out his gratitude to him, acknowledging that he owed all his present happiness to his kind advice and encouragement. "Ye saw me," he said, "a puir stricken bairn, an ye took pity upon me, and may ye be abundantly blessed for the kindness ye showed on that day." "Rise," said the stranger, "I entreat you; your acknowledgments oppress me; for, after all, what have I done? I saw you, as I thought, a poor neglected child; I pitied you, and endeavoured to interest your parents in your favour: it appears, then, that I succeeded, and I am more than rewarded for the pains I took." That day was a happy one at D. and in the evening, when the stranger departed for A, the residence of Dr. H, the gentleman who had been his companion when he first entered the village, he was once more followed by the benediction of Sandy and his now happy and prosperous family. CONSTANCE. UNRECORDED GRAVES. BY CATHERINE G. GORDON. The tombs of princes, they are found With gold and marble glittering round They of the red right hand, whose fame |