inhabitants for ever lost. Her face was much disfigured, and, no longer an object of admiration, she was neglected by the one sex, and shunned by the other; grief and disappointment soon furrowed her cheeks; she be came grey-haired at thirty, and died soon after with all the external marks of old age. Birth, marriage, and death, are important eras in the life of every man, whatever may be his rank or station; but, among the common people, they are generally attended with more eclat when the situations in life are compared. At death, many practices were formerly adopted and opinions held which are now almost forgotten. room, two young fellows were seated on the front of the bed, where the corpse was stretched; according to the fashion of the times, one of the young men had a leathern belt about his waist, buckled over his jacket; his companion, an arch wag, recollecting that the deceased had a crooked finger, slily and gently lifted up the dead man's hand, and fastened the crooked finger in his companion's belt; then rising with an air of easy indifference, he walked to the door, from which, with counterfeited emotion, he called to the company that a house in the village was on fire; all got up attempting to rush out; among the rest the man on the bed-side also arose, but felt himself suddenly pulled back, and as he supposed by the dead person behind him: so powerful was the impression, that he fell backwards across the bed in a swoon, from which he was with much difficulty recovered. A very strange and even wonderful story is still often talked of, as having occurred sometime in the last century at a lyrewake in this country. Mr William Craighead, author of a popular system of arithmetic, was Until of late years, it was not only common, but admitted of few exceptions, for a great number of persons to assemble together at night in the house where the corpse lay, and there hold the lykewake. The party consisted generally of young people of both sexes, where almost every species of rustic amusement, except singing and dancing, was entered into with avidity. Rural sports and games were adopted, and generally so contrived, as to produce forfeits, which gave a good pretext for tousling and parish-schoolmaster of Monifieth, sikissing the lasses. The company was regaled with bread and cheese, beer and a dram; and the mirthful hilarity of the party was generally as unlike the occasion of their meeting as it is almost possible to conceive. A new squad assembled next evening, and the same scenes were repeated nightly until the corpse was interred. When a boy about fifteen, I recollect of being one among twenty at a lykewake, and so excellent were the sports, and so keenly did they engross the attention, that I and one or two more attended two successive nights, without having had any sleep through the intermediate day. i conceive this fact as sufficiently illustrative of what was generally going on upon these occasions. The house was often so full, that there were not seats for the company; and I have seen the bed-side where the corpse lay. uncoffined occupied by two or three, from the want of other accommodation. An old friend of mine related to me a whimsical anecdote that occurred at a lykewake where he was present. The company being short of sitting tuate upon the estuary of the Tay, about six miles east from Dundee. It would appear that Mr Craighead was then a young man, fond of a frolic, without being very scrupulous about the means, or calculating the conse quences. There was a lykewake in the neighbourhood, attended by a number of his acquaintance, according to the custom of the times; Craighead procured a confederate, with whom he concerted a plan, to draw the watchers from the house, or at least from the room where the corpse lay. Having succeeded in this, he dexterously removed the dead body to an outer house, while his companion occupied the place of the corpse in the bed where it had lain. It was agreed upon between the confederates, that when the company was reassembled, Craighead was to join them, and at a concerted signal, the impostor was to rise shrouded like the dead man, while the two were to enjoy the terror and alarm of their companions. Mr C. came in, and after being sometime seated, the signal was made, but met no attention, he was rather surprised,-it was repeated and still neglect ed. Mr Craighead in his turn now became alarmed, for he conceived it impossible that his companion could have fallen asleep in that situation, his uneasiness became insupportable, -he went to the bed-and found his companion lifeless! Mr Craighead's feelings (as may well be imagined) now entirely overpowered him, and the dreadful fact was disclosed; their agitation was extreme, and it was far from being alleviated when every attempt to restore animation to the thoughtless young man proved abortive. As soon as their confusion would permit, an inquiry was made after the original corpse, Mr Craighead and another went to fetch it in, but it was not to be found. The alarm and consternation of the company was now redoubled; for some time a few suspected that some hardy fellow among them had been attempting a Rowland for an Oliver; but when every knowledge of it was most solemnly denied by all present, their situation can be more easily imagined than described; that of Mr Craighead was little short of distraction; daylight came without relieving their agitation; no trace of the corpse could be discovered, and Mr Craighead was accused as the primum mobile of all that had happened: he was incapable of sleeping, and wandered several days and nights in search of the body, which was at last discovered in the parish of Tealing, deposited in a field about six miles distant from the place from whence it was removed. It is related, that this extraordinary affair had a strong and lasting effect upon Mr Craighead's mind and conduct; that he immediately became serious and thoughtful, and ever after conducted himself with great prudence and sobriety. Such are the particulars of a story, which, however incredible it may appear, I have heard currently reported by many different people, who had no opportunity of hearing it from each other. Since I began to write this paper, I inquired at an acquaintance if he ever heard the story, just mentioning Mr Craighead's name, and the particulars were again repeated to me, such as they were impressed upon my memory twenty or thirty years ago. There seems to be very little difficulty in accounting for the death of the young man, without any supernatural interference; for a combination of compunction and terror might have seized him, (after taking the place evacuated by the corpse,) sufficient to suspend all the functions of life; but the disappearance of the other dead body does not seem to me capable of being accounted for by any natural cause; for it is by no means probable that any present would have had the hardiness to remove it to such a distance, and also subsequent firmness to keep their own secret; we must, therefore, give credence to the agency of some superior being, or disbelieve the matter at once. At death, many freits are still observed, some of which are strange enough. When a person is dying, no one in the house, of whatever age, is allowed to sleep,-for this I have heard no reason, farther than that it was unlucky. It is also believed, that, when a person dies unseen, they who first discover them will die in a similar manner. When one expires, the clock is immediately stopped, and the dial-plate covered with a towel; mirrors are also covered in a similar manner. All the cats belonging to the house are caught, and put in immediate confinement. The reason given for this is, that they would endeavour, if possible, to pass over the corpse, and the first that they crossed after would be deprived of sight. When the body is dressed and laid out, a Bible is often put below its head, while a plate with salt, and another with a piece of green turf, is placed on the breast. It is also a common practice in some quarters of this country, should the corpse be conveyed to the church-yard in a cart, for some one, immediately after the coffin is put upon the cart, to say, Now, what is that horse and cart worth?" I have been at some pains to learn what was meant by this, but never could receive any other reply but that it was the custom. Among the lower classes, the female relatives crowd about the door when the corpse is carrying out, and frequently give most audible vent to their grief; sometimes the widow will insist upon carrying her deceased husband's head part of the way to the grave. The husband always walks to the churchyard, and lays in his wife's head. Very absurd customs of feasting on these occasions formerly prevailed. On the evening before the funeral, a number of the neighbours, male and female, were invited to the "coffining;" and immediately after the funeral, the same females and others concerned assembled to what is still termed the dairgie, probably a corruption of dirge, although the rites observed are very dissimilar. What I have just now described was once almost universal, and is still prevalent among many of the common classes, at an expence very unsuitable to their incomes and situations in life. Among those in the better ranks, such as respectable farmers and tradesmen, the company are all seated in the barn, where they partake of a good dinner, and sit for an hour or two after, drinking toddy, sometimes wine. Formerly it was nothing uncommon for the company to get very tipsy before rising from the table, but the practice of dinners is wearing out, or, when they do take place, the guests, with a decorum more suited to the occasion, rise very soon after. In the two neighbouring towns of Arbroath and Dundee, the customs at funerals are very different from each other. In Arbroath, whatever the rank of the deceased, every one who appears at the funeral is dressed in black, if he has a coat of that colour, -if not, in his holiday clothes; all are invited into the house of the deceased, and presented with a dram; if the person is of any rank above labouring people, a choice of wines and spirituous liquors, with a variety of cakes, &c. are on the table, for the entertainment of the guests. Two gentlemen attend to serve them, and every one walks into the room, tastes of what he likes, and immediately retires to make room for others; the number invited will often amount to two hundred, and upwards. In Dundee, unless among the higher ranks, the company assemble at the door in their working clothes, weavers in dirty linen jackets, and shoemakers with their greasy aprons. This is not decorous; it shews a want of respect to the memory of their deceased friend, and indicates an indifference of mind, and deficiency of feeling on so solemn an occasion; at least such is the construction which I have often heard put upon this custom, so anomalous to the general practice on these occasions; and I beg leave to assure the nine trades of Dundee, that their funerals have often attracted the attention, but never the approbation, of strangers. No person is asked into the house, nor is any thing offered. This is as it ought to be; for, although some can afford the expence, the many cannot; and it is absurd to think of a poor widow, who has lost the support of herself and family, expending in this way what should feed and clothe her orphans, while every one can easily conceive the different feelings which unite to prevent her from deviating from the general custom. I propose to give you some remarks in my next on the principal holidays formerly observed in Scotland, and the popular superstitions and customs connected with them. Meanwhile I remain, &c. TAODUNUS. Carse of Gowrie, Feb. 4, 1819. THE EDUCATION COMMITTEE, AND THE present age seems to be distinguished by two prominent features apparently of a very different character. The future historian may remark, that the general diffusion of knowledge had enlarged our views and our hopes, and, by stripping bare errors and abuses, sanctified in the minds of the vulgar by antiquity and early associations, had left us free to enter upon a career of wisdom and prosperity. About this period, he may observe, men began to inquire, and to reason concerning their politi cal rights and duties, and all those circumstances in international and internal policy, which are supposed to have an influence on their condition, with more freedom and earnestness than at any former period. He will record the dreadful conflicts which ensued between the supporters of established systems, and the advocates for innovation, and mark the blindness and extravagance of both; as well as the alterations in the state of society into which these conflicts at last subsided. But the distinction of the present age which has been alluded to is displayed not only in action, but in speculation; not only in revolutions, and those still peaceful struggles between rulers and their subjects, which may be the precursors of new revolutions, but in those quiet and less obvious indications of the progress of society, which may be gathered from the nature of the investigations in which a number of literary men have engaged during the last fifty years. Those powers of reasoning which were formerly wasted on matters of small interest to mankind, and led to no useful conclusions, have been devoted to a careful analysis of subjects of the very highest importance. Views of society have been exhibited, begin ning with its simplest elements, and gradually ascending to its most complicated condition; and, in this process, the sources of enjoyment and of suffering have been detected, and general rules deduced for the direction of nations as well as individuals. Labour, commodities, the interchange of commodities or commerce, money the instrument of commerce, taxation, institutions for relieving the destitute, population, all these, and other difficult subjects of the same description, which no writer in former ages did more than touch upon, have been examined separately, and in combination, and are now formed into an harmonious, if not invulnerable system, which rests on a few general principles. Whatever errors may yet remain, it is certain, that by this means many have been discovered and exploded; and that such works as those of Smith and Malthus have had no small influence both upon our foreign and domestic policy. But it might possibly be suspected, while the public mind was so deeply engaged with these abstruse inquiries, which not only did not admit, but seemed to exclude on principle all the kindlier feelings of our nature, that we had become a selfish generation, intent on nothing but the pursuit of riches or power. Such, it has been said, is the object of all these speculations in political economy. Those who would abolish poor-rates and public charities of every kind, withhold public aid from religious and civil instruction, and, without encouragement or protection, leave every man to make the best of his way through life by his own independent and unaided exertions, may well be suspected of being little accessible to the claims of helpless misery. In so VOL. IV. far as such doctrines have become popular, in the same degree it might be expected that the natural ties which connect men with one another would become weaker, till at last all others were absorbed in self-interest in its naked and most offensive form. Yet no conclusion could be farther from the truth than this; for the same page of history that records the rise and progress of the investigations we have referred to, will be embellished with a display of some of the highest virtues that ennoble our nature. In this country, in particular, there probably never was a time when so many enlightened efforts were made as at present for ameliorating both the moral and physical condition of the destitute, and of the lower orders in general. Not to mention the abolition of the slave trade, and the vigilant humanity of the African Association, it is enough to advert to measures of a domestic nature, such as Friendly Societies and Saving Banks, vaccination and fever hospitals, asylums for lunatics, and for the blind, the deaf and dumb, and the diseased in general,-and, above all, to the exertions that have been made in every quarter to strike at the root of most of the evils of society, by educating the lower classes in the principles of religion and morality, and in the elements of useful knowledge. The philanthropy of the age has taken even a wider range than this, and thrown a ray of peace and hope into those dismal mansions in which, while the law is punishing perhaps a slight offence, the offender is exposed to a course of training which fits him for the perpetration of the most atrocious crimes. In this respect Mrs Fry and her benevolent associates have improved upon the unwearied self-devotion of Howard. Their object is not solely nor chiefly to relieve the bodily sufferings of these outcasts from society, but, by means of instruction and employment, to convert a jail into what it certainly never has been hitherto in this country,—a school for acquiring regular habits and useful knowledge. In all the experiments that have been lately made for alleviating human misery, or relieving it, one striking point of difference is observable in the means employed now and in former times. The readiest, if not the only method of relieving the poor Ff formerly was by pecuniary donations, and the only contrivance resorted to for diminishing crimes was to threaten and sometimes to inflict punishments still more and more severe. Both these plans, it is now admitted, have, been eminently unsuccessful. They are nothing better than the temporary expedients of wealth and power to escape importunity and secure their own property, a sort of compromise between their duty and their interest, or rather an apology for neglecting those higher and more arduous duties which, if performed with diligence and judgment, would have the effect of diminishing poverty and guilt at their very source. It is to this last object that the efforts of the humane and charitable of the present time are directed. Whenever the evil to be remedied can be traced to a moral cause, that remedy is now sought for by implanting in the infant mind the seeds of knowledge and virtue, and promoting their growth by early habits of order, industry, and decorum. It is to this mode of training at parochial schools, that the comparatively rare occurrence of crimes committed by Scotsmen, either in their own country or elsewhere, has been commonly and justly ascribed; and the same happy effects have been already experienced in England, since the new plan of education has been introduced there. We have seen a document, though it is not at hand to refer to, from which it appears, that after several years had elapsed, the names of none of Joseph Lancaster's scholars were to be found among the numerous convictions of the metropolis. Even in the case of those who have contracted vicious habits, and subjected themselves to punishment, Buxton and Gurney's valuable little Perhaps our correspondent refers to a resolution of a meeting of the friends of the Lancasterian system, held at the Freemasons' Tavern, London, on the 11th May 1811.His Grace the Duke of Bedford in the chair. It is in these words: "Resolved, 10th, That the moral effects of the Royal British System of Education are apparent, from the important fact, that of full 7000 children who have been instructed at the Royal Free School, Borough-Road, no instance has been known of any one of these having been charged with any criminal offence in any court of justice."-Editor. works contain the clearest evidence of the efficacy of this moral remedy,-few comparatively who had been instructed and acquired regular habits in prison having been afterwards committed for new offences. It may seem difficult to reconcile these labours of pure benevolence which distinguish the present period with the influence we have already ascribed to works, the tendency of which is to produce indifference rather than sympathy, and to repress rather than cherish feelings of compassion towards the miserable. The facts, we think, are nevertheless as we have stated them; and, perhaps, it may occur, on a little reflection, that so far from being inconsistent, the one class of facts is in some degree the natural consequence of the other; not, indeed, that works on political economy have given a new stimulus to philanthropy, but a new and better direction perhaps to its energies. They may have taught us in the case of the poor, for instance, that something more is necessary for their relief, and also to prevent the spreading of the evil, than poor-rates and workhouses. The labours of the Committee of the House of Commons on the education of the poor, afford a pleasing evidence of the attention that now begins to be paid to this important subject in the highest quarters; but, at the same time, they have brought to light a number of facts, which serve to qualify the praise of enlightened humanity, when applied generally to the present age. The funds which the piety and charity of our forefathers destined to education and other benevolent purposes, have been, it appears, in several instances, grossly misapplied; and are now either enjoyed by individuals as sinecures, or have been transferred, without an equivalent return, on long leases. Mr Brougham's Letter to Sir Samuel Romilly, which was noticed in the Magazine for last September, has given to the public a few instances of this kind, brought to light by the evidence taken before the Committee last year; but there can be no doubt that many flagrant cases yet remain concealed. That Mr Brougham, by this proceeding, should expose himself to the animadversions of the delinquents themselves, or their friends, was a |