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tidings that her son-in-law, who had gone When they arrived at Karasou-Bazar, she with his wife to visit the Princess Anna Ga- prepared herself for death, under the loving litzin near St. Petersburg, was seriously ill, care of her daughter and her husband. She and she ardently wished to go to him. She was fond of hearing Tersteegen's hymns, received the Emperor's permission in Janu- especially the one beginning — ary, and was soon with her children. Amid
“ Jesu, der Du bist alleine, many fervent prayers, her son-in-law recov
Haupt und Hirte der Gemeine, ered. All those within the borders of the rigid
Segne mich Dein armes glied.” Greek Church in whose minds a certain
“ Jesus, of Thy sheep the Head, mysticism had been the means of cherishing
By whose hand Thy flock is fed, religious life, were attracted to visit the
Feed me, Thy humble lamb !" celebrated lady. And since the conversion The image of the Crucified One was alof Alexander, through the circulation of the ways before her view. Bible and other means, true piety and zeal A few days before her death she wrote for the kingdom of God had greatly in- to her son :- " The good that I have done creased. But the weakness of Alexander's will remain ; the harm that I have done character caused him to vacillate between and how often have I not mistaken the workhis desire to spread the knowledge of re- ings of my own imagination and pride for ligion among his people, and his fear that the voice of God! — God in his merey will their mental emancipation would weaken the wipe away. I have nothing to offer to God imperial authority, and he fell a prey to the or man but my many imperfections; but the priestly party, who hated the mystical and blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all pietistic movements in the church. The sin.” On the 15th of December, amidst excellent minister of worship, Prince Galit- fervent prayers, she took leave of her bezin, was dismissed, and the Bible Society loved ones. On the 24th she was unable to suppressed. All this had occurred shortly speak, and requested, by signs, that the before Madame de Krudener's arrival. It sign of the cross should be made over her. was, perhaps, natural that Alexander should At midnight she was told it was Christmas not entertain the same confidence in her in day, and, with beaming looks and audible St. Petersburg as he had done in Paris; and voice, she gave glory to God. On that day ber enthusiasm for Greece was not likely to she died. Her earthly tabernacle was deincrease it, for he had just been informed posited in the Armenian church at Karasouby Metternich that the revolution in Greece Bazar, and was afterwards removed to the was not to be supported. Alexander caused Greek church which the Princess Galitzin her to be informed in a delicate way that had built at Koreiss. her residence in his capital could only be Such is the history of Madame de Krupermitted so long as she refrained from any dener. We have represented it as we found expression of opinion on the affairs of it, endeavouring lovingly to enter into the Greece and the relations of Russia with re- spirit of her remarkable life. gard to her. She returned to her rural re It only remains to add a few critical retreat, and added voluntary mortifications to marks. We do not, of course, concur in the imposed restriction. She wrote scarcely the judgment of the world regarding her. any letters, but employed her time in pray- Not sharing the angels' joy over a sinner ing, reading, singing, and caring for the that repenteth, it is more ready to forgive the poor. In the winter of 1822–3 she sat sin without repentance, than a penitent sinwithout fire or double windows. She suf- ner for preaching it. But we shonld confered indeed in body, but the serenity of sider it to be in good order that the more her mind increased. The news of the death notorious the sin, the more deeply the sinof Kellner was, however, a great shock to ner should ponder the pardon she has reher. She reviewed her past life, and the ceived in her heart, and not appear before prospect of death presented itself to her the world with her newly-learnt message of under an aspect of terror, and as an expia- a Saviour from sin, until she has long and tion for her sins. But this temptation did not silently communed with it herself. Perhaps last long, and her readiness to depart re- a quiet residence in her home, confining her turned. Her malady also became less pain- labours to her immediate neighbourhood, ful, and she willingly entered into a plan would have been better for Madame de Krufor going down the Volga, towards the Cri- dener than wandering abont the world. She mea, with the Princess Galitzin and her might then have acquired more taste for peasant colony. But on the journey her domestic life, and not have fallen into the illness increased, and the peculiarities of homeless condition in which she lived for her character became less conspicuous. I many years, and which we are inclined to
regard as an evidence of the old leaven in tianity. Her occasional invocation of the her character. We do not think that her Virgin may be ascribed rather to a fantastic usefulness would thereby have been lessened. enthusiasm than to doctrine, and she was in The spiritual preaching of mercy, when ac- the main Protestant, or Catholic according companied by a holy life in God, and devo- to the original meaning of the word. When tion to our fellow creatures, is so shining a in Switzerland she wrote to a Roman Cathlight, that, let it be placed where it may, olic priest:—“Love has called me, not even were it in Russia, it is sure to be seen only out of the world, but out of a lifeless from afar, and to attract souls to itself. Christianity, so that I belong neither to the
And as we regard the perpetual wander- Catholic nor to the Greek Church, and, ing about of the widow as the effect of her thank God, have never become Protestant. early life, we think we recognise in many My great Master has taught me to be a of her actions during her religious career Christian. When the sun of my life began the fantastic and eccentric romance-writer. to dawn upon me, I did not think about beThis was shown by the exaggerated impor- ing a sinner. I loved, and wept in ecstasy tance she attached to the prophecies of Mary over this delightful love. I was unacquaintKummer, and her implicit confidence in ed both with Christian communities and the Fontaine, who was disposed to turn both forms which people are so ready to adopt. the oracle of his prophetess and the credu- I had heard but little, and learnt but little; lous enthusiasm of Madame de Krudener but I thought, O, if He who is worthy of to his own advantage for earthly and selfish all adoration did but love me!' Consumed ends. Madame de Krudener paid dearly by the divine flame, I did not concern myfor this, for Alexander became prejudiced self about my own unworthiness; I knew against her in consequence of the disastrous nothing of my ruined state. I neither knew result of Fontaine's enterprises, which end- nor hated my sinfulness; I only kept at his ed with debt and arrest on the estate of feet like Mary Magdalene.” The love of Rappenhoff.
Christ was the ruling passion of her life. Her proceedings in Switzerland were al- “ Not to love," she said, “ is, to me, the together wanting in Christian sobriety. epitome of all horrors. Not love Him who This was shown in her impatient looking for has graven in my heart the wish that hell divine judgments, her anxious watching for itself might learn to love Christ, the Conevery report of earthquake, storm, hail, queror of hell! I have learnt to know the fire, and pestilence, in order that she might almighty power of faith and love, not as a proclaim approaching judgment with greater heroine of faith, but as a child. The honconfidence; her delight in the marvel- our and glory of my Redeemer are my life. lous; in the way in which she wrested many It is my ardent desire to see all around me passages of Scripture to make them suit saved, that all might unite in praising diher own fancy; in the importance she at- vine love." tached to forms — such as the expression, This was her universal theme, in corre“Praise be to Jesus Christ;" to the sign spondence, in private conversation, and of the Cross, and the bending of the knee. among the multitude.
In the persecution which arose against At the time when God was causing His her, there was doubtless much political and chastisements to be felt, this remarkable ecclesiastical pharisaism, but there was also woman, by her preaching and her self-dea wholesome opposition to a course tending nying love, accomplished her mission with to fanaticism and disorder. What right had wonderful spiritual energy. Her interfershe to denounce the social and political state ence in politics was a mistake; her spiritual of Switzerland — with which her acquaint- labours were encompassed with many inance was by no means intimate – as one firmities. But she advanced the kingdom likely to call down divine judgments ? And, of God; her own conversion was a striking although in the time of famine she showed instance of the power of grace; and her her love by her abundant charity, was it unfailing love for the people, in spite of wise to entice the people away from their political and religious persecution, and the homes and occupations to Russia and the testimony she bore in words and works, all Caụcasus?
tended to call back the world to the Cross.* The grace of Christ, combined with love
Vie de Madame de Krudener, par Charles Ey. to the brethren, was the kernel of her Chris- nard. Tome i. et ii. Paris, 1849.
. From The Spectator. the gleaming of tartans, the flashing of NOTES FROM THE SCOTTISH ISLES. swords, the sound of wassail, the intoning III. - CANNA AND ITS PEOPLE.
of the skald; but now, instead, we have the
genuine modern article-a monarch of a The Laird of Canna might fitly be styled speculative turn, transacting business in his its King; for over that lonely domain he ex- shirt-sleeves. The realm flourishes too. ercises quite regal authority, and he is luck- Each cotter or shepherd pays his rent in laier in one respect than most monarchs -- he bour, and is permitted a plot of ground to keeps all the cash. His subjects number grow potatoes and graze a cow.
The fishfour score - men, women, and children. ermen are supported in the same way. Both Some till his land, some herd his sheep. sexes toil out of doors at the crops and take For him the long-line fishers row along the part in the shearing, but the women have stormy coasts of Rum, for him the wild boors plenty of time to watch the cow and weave batter out the brains of seals on the neigh- homespun on their rude looms. All on the bouring rocks of Haskeir; the flocks on the isle, excepting only the laird himself, belong crags are bis, and the two smacks in the to the old Romish faith, even the laird's own bay; every roof and tenement for man or wife and children being Catholics. There beast pays him rent of some sort. The is no bickering, civil or religious. The susolid modern building, surrounded by the preme head of the state is universally pop, civilized brick wall, is his palace - a recent ular, and praised for his thoughtfulness and erection, strangely out of keeping with the generosity — a single example of which is rude cabins and heather houses in the vi- as good as a hundred. It is the custom of cinity. Yet the laird of Çanna is not proud. many Highland proprietors, notably those He toiled bard with his hands long before of Islay, to levy a rent on those who burn the stroke of good fortune which made him the seaweed and tangles on their shore, the heritor of the isle, and even now he com- charging the poor makers about a pound on munes freely with the lowliest subjects, and every ton of kelp so produced.' Not so the (see yonder!) is not above boarding the Laird of Canna. “He charges nothing," trader in the bay in his shirt-sleeves. A said our informant, a wild old Irish wanshrewd, active, broad-shouldered man is the derer, whom we found kelp-burning close laird, still young, and as active as a goat. to our anchorage; “ the faird is too dacent Though he sits late at night among his books, a man to take rint for the rocks!” he is up with the greyest dawn to look after One might wander far, like those princes his field. You meet him everywhere over of Eastern fable who went that weary quest the island, mounted royally on his sturdy in search of kingdoms, and fare far worse little sheltie, and gazing around him with a than here. Though environed on every side face which says plainly, —
by rocks and crags, and ringed by the wa“I am monarch of all I survey,
tery waste, Canna is fat and fertile, full of My right there is none to dispute.” excellent sheep pastures and patches of fine
arable ground. Its lower slopes in times But at times he sails far away southward in remote were enriched by the salt sea loam, his own boats, speculating with the shrewd- and its highest peaks have been dunged for est, and surely keeping his own. In the ages by innumerable sea-fowl. Iluge sheep midst of his happy sway he has a fine smile of the Cheviot breed cover all the slopes, and a kindly heart for the stranger, as we finding their way to the most inaccessible can testify. The great can afford to be gen- crags; long trains of milch cows wind from erous, though, or course, if greatness were the hills to the outside of the laird's dairy to be measured by mere amount of income, morning and gloaming; and in the low rich the laird, though a “warm” man, would under-stretches of valley are little patches of have to be ranked among the lowly. He excellent corn, where the loud creekhas in abundance what all the Stuarts tried creek” of the corncraik sounds harsh and in vain to feel — the perfect sense of soli- loud. So much for the material blessings of tary sway
the island. Then as to those other blessings Think of it, - dreamer, power-hunter, which touch the eye and the soul. piner after the Napoleonic ! A fertile island, It is a fish-shaped island, about five miles a simple people, ships and flocks all your long and a mile and a half broad, throwing own, and all set solitary and inviolate in the out by a small isthmus on the western side great sea! for how much less have throats a low peninsula of grassy green. In the been cut, hearths desolated, even nations space between the peninsula and the southruined? There is no show, no bunkum, no eastern point of the mainland lies the harflash jewellery of power, but veritable power bour, and across the isthmus to the west lies itself. In old days, there would have been another greater bay, so sown with grim lit
tle islands and sunken rocks as to be totally gions darken the waters underneath, and useless to navigators in any weather. The rows on rows sit brooding over their young peninsula is somewhat low, but the crags of on the dizziest edges of the cliff itself. The the main island tower to an immense height noise of wings is ceaseless, there is conabove the level of the sea.
stant coming and going, and so tame are the Canna is the child of the great waters, birds that one might almost seize them, and such children, lonely and terrible as is either on the water or in the air, with the their portion, seldom lack loveliness — often outstretched hand. Discharge a gun into their only dower. From the edge of the the air, and as the hollow echoes roar uplipping water to the peak of the highest crag, ward and inward to the very hearts of the it is clothed on with ocean gifts and signs caves, it will suddenly seem as if the treof power.
Its strange under-caves and mendous crags were loosening to fall rocks are coloured with rainbow hues, drawn but the dull dangerous sound you hear is from glorious-featured weeds; overhead, its only the rush of wings. A rock further cliffs of basalt rise shadowy, ledge after northward is possessed entirely by gulls, ledge darkened by innumerable little wings; chiefly the smaller species; thousands' sit and high over all grow soft greenswards, still and fearless, whitening the summit like knolls of thyme and heather, where sheep snow, but many hover with discordant bleat, and whence the herdboy crawls over to scream over the passing boat, and seem look into the raven's nest. On a still summer trying with the wild beat of their wings to day, when the long Atlantic swell is crystal scare the intruders away. Close in shore, smooth, Canna looks supremely gentle on at the mouth of a deep dark cave, cormoher image in the tide, and out of her hol- rants are to be found, great black ** scarts," low under-caves comes the low weird whis- their mates, and the young, preening their per of a voice; the sunlight glimmers on glistening plumage leisurely, or stretching peaks and sea, the beautiful shadow quivers out their snake-like necks to peer with fishy below, broken here and there by drifting eyes this way and that. They are not very weeds, and the bleating sheep on the high tame here, and should you present a gun, swards soften the stillness. But when the will soon flounder into the sea and disapwinds come in over the deep, the beauty pear; but at times when they have gorged changes — it darkens, it flashes from soft-themselves with fish, so awkward are they ness into power. The huge waters boil at with their wings, and so muddled are their the foot of the crags, and the peaks are wits, that one might run right abreast with caught in mist; and the air, full of a great them and knock them over with an oar. roar, gathers around Canna's troubled face. Everywhere below, above, on all sides, Climb the crags, and the horrid rocks to there is nothing but life -- birds innumerwestward, jutting out here and there like able, brooding over their eggs or fishing for sharks' teeth, spit the lurid white foam back the young. Here and there, a little fluff of in the glistening eyes of the sea. Slip down down just launched out into the great world to the water's edge, and amid the deafening paddles about bewildered, and dives away roar the spray rises far above you in a hissing from the boat's bow with a little troubled shower. The whole island seems quivering cry; on the outer rocks gulls and guillemots through and through. The waters gather innumerable, puffins on the crags, and coron all sides, with only one still .long gleam morants on the ledges of the caves. The to leeward. No place in the world could poor reflective human being, brought into seem fuller of supernatural voices, more pow- the sound of such a life, gets quite scared erful, or more utterly alone.
and dazed. The air, the rocks, the waters It is our fortune to see the island in all are all astir. The face turns for relief upits moods; for we are in no haste to de- ward, where the blue sky meets the summit part. Days of deep calm alternate with of the crags. Even yonder, on the very days of the wildest storm — there is con- ledge, a black speck sits and croaks; and stant change.
still further upward, dwarfed by distance to When there is little or no sea, it is de- the size of a sparrowhawk, hovers a black lightful to pull in the punt round the pre-eagle, fronting the sun. cipitous shores, and come upon the lonely There is something awe-inspiring, on a haunts of the ocean birds. There is one dead calm day, in the low hushed wash of great cliff, with a huge rock rising out of the great swell that forever sets in from the the waters before it, which is the favourite ocean; slow, slow, it comes, with the regbreeding baunt of the puffins, and while ular beat of a pulse, rising its height withswarms of these little creatures, with their out breaking against the cliff it mirrors in bright parrot-like bills and plump white its polished breast, and then dying down breasts, flit thick as locusts in the air, le- I beneath with a murmuring moan. What
power is there! what dreadful, fatal ebbing We cannot believe they are unhappy beand flowing! No finger can stop that un- yond the lot of other people who live by der-swell, no breath can come between that labour, and it is quite certain 'that, in and its course; it has rolled since Time be- worldly circumstances, they are much more gan, the same, neither more nor less, comfortable than the Highland poor are whether the weather be still or wild, and it generally. Nature, however, with her wonwill keep on when we are all dead. Bah! drous secret influences, has subdued their that is hypochondria. But look! what is lives, toned their thoughts to the spirit of that floating yonder, on the glassy water? the island where they dwell. This is more
particularly the case with the women. “ Is it a piece o' weed or floating hair, 0' drowned maiden's hair?"
Poor human souls, with that dark, search
ing look in the eyes, those feeble flutterNo; but it tells as clear a tale. Those ings of the lips! They speak sad and planks formed lately the sides of a ship, low, as if somebody were sleeping close by. and on that old mattress, with the straw When they step forward and ask you to washing out of the rents, some weary sailor step into the dwelling, you think (being pillowed his head not many hours ago. new to their ways) that some one has just Where is the ship now? Where is the died. All at once, and inevitably, you sailor? Oh, if a magician's wand could hear the leaden wash of the sea, and you strike these waters, and open them up to seem to be walking on a grave. our view, what a sight should we see! the "A ghostly people !” exclaims the reader; slimy holls of ships long sunk; the just keep me from Canna!” That is an error. sunken fish-boat, with ghastly faces twisted The people do seem ghostly at first, their among the nets; the skeleton suspended in looks do sadden and depress; but the feelthe huge under-grass and monstrous weeds, ing soon wears away, when you find how the black shapes, the fleshless faces looming much quiet happiness, how much warmth of green in the dripping foam and watery dew! heart, may underlie the melancholy air. Yet how gently the swell comes rolling, and when they know you a little, ever so little, how pleasant look the depths, this summer they brighten, not into anything demonstraday, — as if death was not, as if there tive, not into supniness, but into a silvern could be neither storm nor wreck at sea. kind of beauty, which we can only compare
Mere hypochondria, perhaps. Why the to moonlight. A veil is quietly lifted, and calm sea should invariably make us melan- you see the soul's face, — and then you choly we cannot tell, but it does so, in know that these folk are melancholy, not spite of all our efforts to be gay. Walt for sorrow's sake, but just as moonlight is Whitman used to sport in the great waters melancholy, just as the wash of water is as happily as a porpoise or a seal, without melancholy, because that is the natural exany dread, with vigorous animal delight; pression of their lives. They are capable and we too can enjoy a glorious swim in of a still, heart-suffering tenderness, very the sun, if there is just a little wind, and touching to behold. the sea sparkles and freshens full of life. We visit many of their houses and hold But to swim in a dead calm is dreadful to a many of their hands. Kindly, gentle, opensensitive man. Something mesmeric grips handed as melting charity, we find them all, and weakens him. If the water be deep, the poorest of them as hospitable as the he feels dizzy, as if he were suspended far proudest chieftain of their race. There is a up in the air
gift everywhere for the stranger, and a blessWe are harping on delicate inental ing after, - for they know that after all he is chords, and forgetting Canna; yet we bound for the same bourn. have been musing in such a mood as Canna Theirs is a quiet life, a still passage from must inevitably awaken in all who feel the birth to the grave; still, quiet, save for the world. She is so lonely, so beautiful; and never-silent voices of the sea. The women the seas around her are so full of sounds work very hard, both indoors and afield. and sights that seize the soul. There is Some of the men go away herring fishing in nothing mean, or squalid, or miserable season, but the majority find employment about Canna; but she is melancholy and either on the island or the circumjacent subdued, — she seems, like a Scandinavian waters. We cannot credit the men with Havfru, to sit with her hand to her ear, great energy of character; they do not earnestly listening to the sea.
seem industrious. An active man could That, too, is what first strikes one in the not lounge as they lounge, with that total Canna people, — their melancholy look, abandonment of every nerve and muscle. not grief-worn, not sorrowful, not passion- They will lie in little groups for hours lookate, but simply melancholy and subdued. ing at the sea, and biting stalks of grass,