o was one of the sorrowing witnesses of the event. There
lived, in a cottage on the banks, some distance up the stream from where
we are at present, a pious and industrious man, who had a very small
farm attached to the ferry, which he rented; the boat that plied across
the river for the accommodation of passengers was his principal support.
He was very poor, and had a numerous family--very young--to provide for
by his exertions. The river was much swollen by heavy rains which had
fallen for some days. It was the day of the fair at Lanark, and he
rejoiced in the gains he should acquire. He was resolute and athletic,
and, from long practice, knew the ferry well. The labours of the day had
passed off with cheerfulness; the river had continued to rise rapidly,
the evening was coming on, and the last boat-load, among whom was my
grandfather, were embarked. He pushed out into the stream, and,
skilfully as he manoeuvred his boat, the river carried them down
considerably below the usual landing place. The steady boatman, of all
that were in danger, was alone collected, and free from alarm. His wife,
who stood on the side with an infant in her arms, mingled cries and
prayers with the roaring of the swollen river. At length he neared the
side at an eddy, and the passengers waded to the green banks. His wife
and all called to him to step out also, and haul the boat out of the
stream; but they implored him in vain, for he relied too much upon his
own skill and strength, and heeded them not. Two or three passengers
stood on the opposite bank, wishing to cross also; and the temptation of
a few more pence induced him to push again into the angry stream, after
a kind assurance to his wife, and those with her, that there was no
danger. Scarce had he spoke, when it was evident that he and the boat
were as much the sport of the swollen Clyde, as a withered leaf. The
skiff shot along like an arrow towards the fall. A wild scream arose
from both sides of the river; all aid was out of human power, yet no cry
for help escaped him; he sat down with calm resignation, pulled his
bonnet over his eyes, and, muffling his face in his plaid, cried--'Jesus
have mercy!' and, ere the sounds died away, he was swept over the
tremendous fall, and perished."

The scene seemed to pass before me, as I listened to him, and gazed
upon the stream. We parted, and I proceeded to view the fearfully
majestic spot, where the river on my right, increasing its angry
r