Notwithstanding many and heavy family trials, this strong-hearted woman continued to correspond with her friends, and receive those who visited her, until the end of October, 1838, when she was seized with a severe attack of influenza. Her son was with her during her last illness, and she was sedulously attended by a lady and servants. She died at her house 9, Manor Place, on the 7th November, 1838, at the advanced age of eighty-four years.
A few days afterwards, a mournful multitude followed her remains to the cemetery of St. Cuthbert’s, then nearly new. She was buried near the graves of four of her daughters. Her son erected a monument to her memory.
LITERARY CAREER.
We receive a vast amount of education from the localities in which we live. From the sketch of her own life it is evident that Mrs. Grant was well aware of the educative influence of scenery. Who can tell how much she learned, during the ten years she lived beside the vast lakes, the magnificent rivers, and the primæval forests of America; and the thirty years spent amid the beauties and glories of the Highlands, apart from all set teaching, away from all formal schools. It is good to see the horizon one red line, pointing like a finger to the unrisen sun—to hear the earliest notes of the birds—to trample on the emerald grass and the blooming heather—to notice the “morning spread upon the mountains,” peak telegraphing to peak that the king of day has just entered the sky—to listen to such stories as lonely hills and misty moors alone can inspire. In this sublime natural system of education, Mrs. Grant had a large share. It stirred her warm imagination, and nourished her poetic faculty.
After the death of her excellent husband, Mrs. Grant had mainly to depend for bread to herself and children, upon her own exertions. In these circumstances she was led to try whether she could not better her fortunes by the exercise of her literary talents, hitherto employed only for her own amusement and the gratification of a few intimate friends. Her first essay at poetry was scrawled in a kind of Miltonic verse, when little more than nine years old. She wrote no more till she wandered on the banks of the Cart, and afterwards at Fort Augustus, and again upon her way home to Laggan, after spending some months at Glasgow. All these scraps she gave away, without preserving a single copy. But the friends among whom Mrs. Grant scattered her verses carefully treasured them, and in 1803, her first publication—“The Highlanders, and other Poems”—was announced to be published by subscription; and so well did her friends exert themselves, that three thousand subscribers were soon procured. This volume, though not reviewed in the most flattering terms, was well received by the public; and its profits enabled Mrs. Grant to discharge her debts. The following description of the Highland poor, is from the principal poem in the collection:—
“Where yonder ridgy mountains bound the scene,
The narrow opening glens that intervene
Still shelter, in some lonely nook obscure,
One poorer than the rest, where all are poor:
Some widowed matron, hopeless of relief,