the same age. They had passed through the various labours of the year together, with the greatest satisfaction. If she milked, it was his morning and evening care to bring the cows to her hand. It was but last fair that he bought her a present of green silk for her straw hat; and the posy on her silver ring was of his choosing. Their love was the talk of the whole neighbourhood: scandal never affirmed that they had any other views than the lawful possession of each other in marriage. It was that very morning that he had obtained the consent of her parents; and it was but till the next week that they were to wait for the happy day. Perhaps, in the intervals of their work, they were talking of the wedding-clothes; and John was suiting several sorts of poppies and field-flowers to her complexion, to choose her a knot for the wedding-day. While they were conversing together, (it was on the last day of July, between two and three in the afternoon,) the clouds grew black; and such a storm of thunder and lightning ensued, that all the labourers made the best of their way to what shelter the trees and hedges afforded. Sarah was frightened, and fell down, in a swoon, on a heap of barley. John, who never separated from her, sat down by her side, having raked together two or three heaps, the better to secure her from the storm. Immediately there was heard so loud a crack, as if Heaven had burst asunder. The labourers, solicitous for each other's safety, called to one another throughout the field. Those who called to our lovers, receiving no answer, stepped to the place where they lay; perceived the barley all in a smoke; and then spied this faithful pair: John with one arm about Sarah's neck, and the other held over her, as if to screen her from the lightning. They were struck dead, and they stiffened, in this tender posture. Sarah's left eye-brow was singed, and there appeared a black spot on her breast; her lover was all over black: but not the least signs of life were found in either. Attended by their melancholy companions, they were conveyed to the town; and the next day were interred in one grave, in the church-yard, at Stanton-Harcourt. Lord Harcourt, at Mr. Pope's and my request, has caused a stone to be placed over them, upon condition that we furnished the epitaph, which is as follows: When Eastern lovers feed the fun'ral fire, On the same pile the faithful pair expire: Here pitying Heav'n that virtue mutual found, And blasted both, that it might neither wound. Hearts so sincere th' Almighty saw well pleas'd, Sent his own lightning, and the victims seiz❜d. But my lord is apprehensive that the country people will. not understand this epitaph; and Mr. Pope says he will make one, with something of Scripture in it, and with as little of poetry as Hopkins and Sternhold*. I am your &c. *The following was the epitaph : John Gay. Near this place lie the bodies of JOHN HEWET and SARAH DREW, an industrious young man, and a virtuous maiden, of this parish; who, being at harvest work, (with several others,) were in one instant killed by lightning, on the last day of July, 1718. Think not by rig'rous judgment sciz'd, A pair so faithful could expire; Live well, and fear no sudden fate: When God calls Virtue to the grave, Alike 'tis justice, soon or late; Mercy alike to kill or save. Virtue unmov'd can hear the call, And face the flash that melts the ball. LETTER II. Dr. Beattie to Mrs. Montagu.-The poor widow*. Madam, Peterhead, Oct. 11, 1784. I arrived at Peterhead on the first of October. I went instantly to Mrs. Arbuthnot, whom I found in tolerable health, sitting solitary by her little fire, and amusing herself, as usual, with a book and her work. She was the more pleased to see me, as my arrival was unexpected; for she had not heard that I was returned to Scotland. After she had asked all the customary questions, I told her, without betraying any emotion, or seeming to have any thing in view but her amusement, that if she were at leisure, I would tell her a story. I accordingly began; and, agreeably to the commission with which you honoured me, I made a very long and circumstantial story of it, recapitulating, as far as my memory would enable me, every thing which passed in that conversation at Sandleford, of which she * Mrs. Arbuthnot, the subject of this letter, was the daughter of a minister of the episcopal church of Scotland. She married, at the age of twenty eight, captain Andrew Arbuthnot, master of a vessel that traded from Peterhead to America. He died of a fever, at Charlestown, in South Carolina, about three years after their marriage. The vessel, on its return to Peterhead, was wrecked, and the whole of the captain's property was lost. His widow, with an infant son, was left destitute. She struggled hard to maintain herself and her child by her labour. Her friends contrived to assist her, so as not to hurt the delicacy of her feelings; and she fre quently said, that she sometimes received aid as if it had dropped from Heaven, without her knowing from what hand it came. Her son, by means of a small bursary, received his education at the I saw and her aunt, Mrs. Cockburn, were the subject. she was greatly affected with the idea of your thinking so favourably of her aunt, and with your condescension in inquiring so minutely into her own history and character; but I did not throw out a single hint that could lead her to anticipate what was to follow. At last, when I found that her heart was thoroughly warmed, and recollected your observation, that the human heart in that state becomes malleable, I hastened to the conclusion, which I expressed in the simplest and fewest words possible; so that the whole struck her at the same instant. She attempted an exclamation, but it was inarticulate, and almost resembled a scream; the tears ran down her furrowed cheeks; she could only `say, "O dear, I cannot speak one word!" and she seemed almost exhausted with the effort which had produced that short sentence. I desired her not to attempt to speak, but to hear me a little further. I then told her, that such acts of beneficence were familiar to you; and mentioned some instances that had come university of Aberdeen; and afterwards, by the interest of some of his father's relations, obtained a commission in the army, in which he served with reputation. He died at an early age in the West Indies, at a period when he had the prospect of a promotion, by which he might have been enabled to contribute to his mother's more comfortable subsistence. Thus bereft of every consolation, except what she derived from religion, and from the soothing tenderness of her friends, she continued for many years in virtuous and respectable poverty. Dr. Beattie having represented her situation to Mrs. Montagu, that lady settled on her an annuity; which raised her from her contented penury, to a state of comparative affluence. She died, in the year 1795, at the very advanced age of eighty six. · to my knowledge, particularly that of Mrs. Williams. She held up her eyes and hands, sometimes in silent adoration of Providence, and sometimes with the most passionate expressions of gratitude to her noble benefactress. In a word, madam, she accepted your bounty in a way that did honour both to her understanding and to her feelings; and I left her to compose herself by silent meditation. Indeed, I made haste to get away after I had executed my commission ; for the scene was so delightfully affecting, that I could stand it no longer. When the news was known next day in the town, it diffused a very general joy; and many an honest heart invoked the blessing of Heaven upon your head: for Mrs. Arbuthnot's character is exceedingly respected by all who know her; and her narrow circumstances have long been the subject of general regret. The delicacy of her mind was well known: which, no doubt, discouraged some persons from making a direct offer of their services; though indirectly, I believe, that some little matters have been done for her benefit. Yet, since her husband's death, which happened four and forty years ago, I know not whether she was at any time worth ten pounds a year. With this small appoint ment, she has constantly maintained the appearance of a gentlewoman, and has received the visits of the most respectable people in this town and neighbourhood, whom she was always happy to entertain with a dish of tea; and among her visiters she can reckon the dutchess of Gordon, the countess of Errol, lord Saltoun's family, sir William Forbes, and many other persons of fashion, What is yet more strange, with this small appointment, |