The Ayrshire Legatees | Page 4

will sympatheese
with our loss on this melancholy okasion. Tell her, as I'll no be out till
our mournings are made, I would take it kind if she would come over
and eate a bit of dinner on Sunday. The Doctor will no preach himself,
but there's to be an excellent young man, an acquaintance of Andrew's,
that has the repute of being both sound and hellaquaint. But no more at
present, and looking for you and Nanny Eydent, with the swatches,--I
am, dear Miss Mally, your sinsare friend,
JANET PRINGLE.
The Doctor being of opinion that, until they had something in hand
from the legacy, they should walk in the paths of moderation, it was
resolved to proceed by the coach from Irvine to Greenock, there
embark in a steam-boat for Glasgow, and, crossing the country to
Edinburgh, take their passage at Leith in one of the smacks for London.
But we must let the parties speak for themselves.
LETTER II
Miss Rachel Pringle to Miss Isabella Tod--GREENOCK.

My Dear Isabella--I know not why the dejection with which I parted
from you still hangs upon my heart, and grows heavier as I am drawn
farther and farther away. The uncertainty of the future--the dangers of
the sea--all combine to sadden my too sensitive spirit. Still, however, I
will exert myself, and try to give you some account of our momentous
journey.
The morning on which we bade farewell for a time--alas! it was to me
as if for ever, to my native shades of Garnock--the weather was cold,
bleak, and boisterous, and the waves came rolling in majestic fury
towards the shore, when we arrived at the Tontine Inn of Ardrossan.
What a monument has the late Earl of Eglinton left there of his public
spirit! It should embalm his memory in the hearts of future ages, as I
doubt not but in time Ardrossan will become a grand emporium; but the
people of Saltcoats, a sordid race, complain that it will be their ruin;
and the Paisley subscribers to his lordship's canal grow pale when they
think of profit.
The road, after leaving Ardrossan, lies along the shore. The blast came
dark from the waters, and the clouds lay piled in every form of
grandeur on the lofty peaks of Arran. The view on the right hand is
limited to the foot of a range of abrupt mean hills, and on the left it
meets the sea--as we were obliged to keep the glasses up, our drive for
several miles was objectless and dreary. When we had ascended a hill,
leaving Kilbride on the left, we passed under the walls of an ancient
tower. What delightful ideas are associated with the sight of such
venerable remains of antiquity!
Leaving that lofty relic of our warlike ancestors, we descended again
towards the shore. On the one side lay the Cumbra Islands, and Bute,
dear to departed royalty. Afar beyond them, in the hoary magnificence
of nature, rise the mountains of Argyllshire; the cairns, as my brother
says, of a former world. On the other side of the road, we saw the
cloistered ruins of the religious house of Southenan, a nunnery in those
days of romantic adventure, when to live was to enjoy a poetical
element. In such a sweet sequestered retreat, how much more pleasing
to the soul it would have been, for you and I, like two captive birds in

one cage, to have sung away our hours in innocence, than for me to be
thus torn from you by fate, and all on account of that mercenary legacy,
perchance the spoils of some unfortunate Hindoo Rajah!
At Largs we halted to change horses, and saw the barrows of those who
fell in the great battle. We then continued our journey along the foot of
stupendous precipices; and high, sublime, and darkened with the
shadow of antiquity, we saw, upon its lofty station, the ancient Castle
of Skelmorlie, where the Montgomeries of other days held their
gorgeous banquets, and that brave knight who fell at Chevy-Chace
came pricking forth on his milk-white steed, as Sir Walter Scott would
have described him. But the age of chivalry is past, and the glory of
Europe departed for ever!
When we crossed the stream that divides the counties of Ayr and
Renfrew, we beheld, in all the apart and consequentiality of pride, the
house of Kelly overlooking the social villas of Wemyss Bay. My
brother compared it to a sugar hogshead, and them to cotton-bags; for
the lofty thane of Kelly is but a West India planter, and the inhabitants
of the villas on the shore are Glasgow manufacturers.
To this succeeded a dull drive of about two miles, and then at once we
entered the pretty village of Inverkip. A slight