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by any body but the great Doctor that he most edoleeses, and as he had to go to Ireland to preach, and could not fix the exack day, it was not till the night before that we were completely certain. I had every preparation ready, however, and all things went off uncommon well. Mary was cowardly till just the minute of going into the drawing-room, and then she got composed. Charles and his brither looked as brisk as ye like; but I saw Charles faltered a wee thocht too-till braikfasttime, and then a slice or twa of my own cured ham restored him to himself. Mary did not eat almost anything. We had much sport all the morning, and the divine was as jocose and witty, as Charles says he is eliquent. My son-in-law was desperately bothered about me, though; and I am sure they mentioned his Ant, as they call me, in the new way, cutting off the y, twenty times. I did not take up their meaning, however, about “ discontinuing” me; but I was obliged to move out and in to keep the servants at their work, they glaikit so much. I will need your advice about a finishing skule for Jeanie, and also concerning the winter habits of the lassie, as well as the pelisse for myself; but as I am coming to Glasgow with the young folk, after they return from Stranraer, and Carlaverock, and Moffat, and other places they are jaunting to, I need add no more at present, but am, my deare Mem, your obedient servant to commund,
WILLIAM HERON TO HIS CRONY. MY DEAR ANDREW,-Charles is buckled at last-fairly off our list; and really, upon the whole, “ as well as can be expected.” She is a sweet and pretty girl that coz of mine which he has got; and I only wish such another may fall to my share when I am disposed to cast anchor in Port Hymen. He fingers some of the shiners too, I am glad to say, for the old boy, after breakfast on the wedding morning, handed him over, “ for his own, his wife's, and the heirs of their body,' &c. &c., one “ disposition," which afforded evidence of the goodness of his, namely, that of a pretty snug “ pendicle of land,” somewhere in or neighbourhood, upon the coast, which, lately seeing in the market, he slyly bought, for the purpose of making a bridal present of it. When the house upon it is finished, it will make a famous howff for we Saturday evening visitors-provided always its master can find us fresh herrings to breakfast, and a leg of matton to dinner, on the following Sabbath. It was devilish handsome in the old one, wasn't it? I don't know but if he would stumble upon another such bit of “ heritable,” I might think of Jeanie, the minx, myself, whom aunt has been laboriously throwing in the way of my coadjutor, but unsuccessfully, I need not say to you who know that single he will be in life, as already he is in heart.
While the two turtles are away cooing at Moffat, and heaven knows where, Cousin Tom, G , and I are damaging the partridges and uncut corn in the neighbourhood, as you will perceive by the box I send by the “ Independent," and the straw that packs it.
I am glad to hear that Kean had such respectable houses with you. He is studying Virginius too, you tell me, and I tell you that Tell is a fitter part for him, and I am sure that is also its author's opinion. Apropos of the fine arts : Is Miss Pearson not to give the concert she half promised? I have proferred to take Jeanie to it, if she will come to town. Mr. Bennet's beautiful verses on Lock Eck, which you would perceive were copied into the Courier, are as much admired here, as I expected that they should be.
But I had almost forgot the main purpose of sitting down to write you.- Make what preparations you like for the dinner we B.'s are to give Charles, sans delay, for the whole covey will be home on Tuesday, in time to see Pasta-rather than miss whom, I verily believe Charles would have postponed his wedding, or, at least, will abridge his harvest honey-moon. I am astonished at Seymour's daring, in being the first theatrical manager out of London, saving the Dublin one, to risk the enormous sum she demands-and deserves.
I suspect my worthy aunt will accompany us. How it will astonish her to hear of Pasta having got £3500 for her brief season in London, besides a clear benefit which yielded £1500. By the bye, we played off a good joke upon her on the morning of the marriage. She knows of no “ Aunt” that we have but herself, and, indeed, had she seen the “ Ant” before its conclusion, she would have been in a great passion at the Heron Correspondence being printed, although, now that it and the marriage are both over, there is no danger to be dreaded from her ire. When joking Charles about laying aside one labour to assume another, she happened to hear its name, supposed that it was her own title, and replied now and then accordingly. We humoured the mistake, and the equi. voque was capital-almost equal, indeed, to that in a late scene between a ci-devant queen's milliner, not a hundred miles from Gourock, and a perfect Joseph, not a million leagues from the " Clayholes” of Glasgow.
You need not countermand the boots from Cunningham, when I think on't. No one can make up leather better than George, and it is a pity to give one's custom, for mere novelty's sake, to interlopers unknown in the place, even although they may " take a drawing" of the foot. Thank heaven, mine, though not dumpy, is not as long as this letter, nor the friendship's duration, dear Andrew, for thee of thy
MR. HERON, SEN. OF BONNYBRAE, TO J. K. ESQ., HIS
“ MAN OF BUSINESS » IN GLASGOW. DEAR SIR,-Your young friend Mary is now a wedded wife, and even your old one and client, myself to wit—a happy man. I found all the papers as accurate and succinct as even your legal instruments usually are; and the “ Contract” bad as little nonsense about “ love and affection,” and so forth, as any thing of the kind I have seen. I cannot guess at the possibility of a flaw in the disposition of the cottage and five acre pendicle upon the Skelmorly grounds, westward of Wemyss Bay, with which I dare say I agreeably surprised the young folks on Tuesday; but when in town-for I see I must come with them for a day or two, the gudewife willing it, and I, I confess, being more than half desirous of protacting the real parting with Mary-we shall see all right and registered.
In the meantime, I crave you to present my respects to your good lady and all friends, whose kind attention to the new housekeepers, in the way of notice, counsel, and example, I know I need not seek, for it will be freely given. Of Mary, my dear lassie, I will say nothing—you know her-and she is still my daughter, though my nephew's wife. Charles is, I am sure, of good principles and a warm heart—sometimes flighty-often proud-almost disdainful, now and then; but always with something redeeming, even in his follies : and then, he truly loves his cousin,—and that, with her prudence to guide and guard him-and, above all, the blessing of a Gracious Power which I cease not to implore may follow my own, so willingly given,will secure the happiness of both for many a year, during which I trust they will have the pleasure of your friendship, as well as the use of your learning when they need it, or even as I long have had it.—I am, dear Sir, your old friend,
THOMAS HERON, SEN.
MRS. HERON, JUN. TO MISS HELEN HUNTLY.
Moffat Wells. My Dear HELEN.— Trust me, I am not changed in aught to thee, although I am now-a wife. Yesterday morning I resigned my room and the title of Miss Heron to the impatient Jeanie, who is already most willing to relinquish both-in favour of the brother of my Charles, or to another Charles who accompanies him, I really know not which, the creature is such an incomprehensible flirt. I snatch a moment from my toilet to write you this, so you must not expect me to describe my sensations
previous to and after the awful ceremony, which seems to one so interesting at a great distance, so terrible at a short one, and something between both these at the time. I made an effort, and it was a successful one, at firmness, when the moment of trial came; and Charles flatters me upon my 'haviour almost as much as if I were still his mistress, and not his devoted wife, and thy friend, even in name unaltered,
MARY HERON. P. S.--I find I shall need those additions to my wardrobe, whose names I transcribe below to be in waiting for me, with your dear self, on Tuesday night. We shall be in shortly after dinner, and meet our friends at nine. I trust every thing to you, according to the arrangements agreed upon ere you left Bonnybrae. The blancmange should certainly be made in Dods' way, in preference to the old style.' Have the servants in attendance, like a good girl.-M. H.
CHARLES HERON TO HENRY WHITE. 'Tis all over, Hal, my friend! Yes: the bachelor is Benedict at last, and as decent and domestic as any man you will meet with on a summer day. Adieu all revels—if at past eleven! Farewell “ the chimes at midnight!” Barnaby Gleery, thy leg and thy limp-Angus, and thy wheefle-fare ye well! No more shall I sit under the “ Vine"-loll on the “ Sofa”-prattle on the “ Settee”-or frisk about in the BoxLobby!- Saveall may go weep-Gilbert Garner-up, shed thy economical tears—in vain-for “ The Ant” is dead-and Charles Heron married!
I trust, since you have come to Glasgow, that you will call on Miss Huntly, and tender your assistance in the arrangements. My friend, Whyte, who resembles Canning, at least in one sense--being a good cabinet-maker--has, I trust, every thing ready. I shall need no wine for a twelvemonth ; - 's kind gift superseded Mr. Sandeman's stock there; and in every thing else, I think I am equally provided for a time. I must not expect presents of so many good things now as when the young fellow upon town, when all my matron friends strove who would keep me best supplied in jellies, and what not. Young Mr. B. promised me a superb bride-cake. You'll get a “monstrous cantle on't” for all my Edinburgh friends, and, indeed, must dispatch the Paisley and London parcels also. But I prattle of these matters and Mary's bonnet wants tying on-S0, once more, believe that I am thy friend, although the property of another, who will love thee almost as well as thy
TETE-A-TETE WITH THE PUBLIC
SCENE-A BLUE Parlour.
Enter Mr. SAVEALL, who advances to A Male and FEMALE
Unit of THE PUBLIC, recumbent upon an old-fashioned piece of furniture.
Female Unit.—(Rising from the Settee.)-Mr. Saveall, you are most welcome-in this, almost the first appearance in your own person before us !
Male Unit.—(Advancing.)—Sir, I am heartily glad to shake you by the hand.
Solomon.—(Gravely.)-Madam, I am overwhelmed with your courtesy.—Sir, your welcome is perhaps not the less sincere that it borders so close upon a good-bye.
F. U.-How?- But be seated, Mr. Saveall. Are there any literary localities?
S.-0, none-save that Mr. Bell, who so admirably illustrated Rollin's Ancient History by learned Notes, has concluded his revision of that author's work on the Arts and Sciences, and that there is in the press “ Ane Flichte through Fairie Lande:” Romances, and Poems; and “ The Last Words and Dying Testimonies of the Scots Worthies, including all that is to be found in The Cloud of Witnesses and Naphtali.” It is also the luck of the same publisher to have got a second edition of Mr. Symington's “ Considerations on Lots.”
F. U.- So your friend Mr. Heron is married
S.-And silent, Madam,-two different, but naturally connected ways of being happy.
M. 0.–So you think a silent is a happy state ? ?
M. U.-I judged that you were of that opinion, from your being so taciturn in “ The Ant”-never, indeed, coming forward in your own person but in some brief and biting note. It was a while before your buyers even knew of your existence or your name. All your predecessors, from the Tatler to Blackwood's Magazine, have held constant personal communion with their readers; but you, forsooth, only appear, like Osrick in Hamlet, at the close of the play.
F. U.-And, Sir, if you do think with your friend Apelles, that “ single blessedness" is not double misery, pray, why have you married Mr Heron?
S.-(Abstractedly.) -1, Maam ?