Thus ended the history of Mrs. Malcolm, as connected with our Parish Annals. Her house was sold, and is the same now inhabited by the millwright, Mr. Periffery; and a neat house it still is, for the possessor is an Englishman, and the English have an uncommon taste for snod houses and trim gardens; but at the time it was built, there was not a better in the town, though it’s now but of the second class. Yearly we hear both from Mrs. Macadam and her sister, with a five-pound note from each to the poor of the parish, as a token of their remembrance; but they are far off, and, were any thing ailing me, I suppose the gift will not be continued. As for Captain Malcolm, he has proved, in many ways, a friend to such of our young men as have gone to sea. He has now left it off himself, and settled at London, where he latterly sailed from, and, I understand, is in a great way as a shipowner. These things I have thought it fitting to record, and will now resume my historical narration. CHAPTER XLI YEAR 1800 THE same quietude and regularity that marked the progress of the last year, continued throughout the whole of this. We sowed and reaped in tranquillity, though the sough of distant war came heavily from a distance. The cotton-mill did well for the company, and there was a sobriety in the minds of the spinners and weavers, which showed that the crisis of their political distemperature was over;—there was something more of the old prudence in men’s reflections; and it was plain to see that the elements of reconciliation were coming together throughout the world. The conflagration of the French Revolution was indeed not extinguished, but it was evidently burning out; and their old reverence for the Grand Monarque was beginning to revive among them, though they only called him a consul. Upon the king’s fast I preached on this subject; and when the peace was concluded, I got great credit for my foresight, but there was no merit in’t. I had only lived longer than the most of those around me, and had been all my days a close observer of the signs of the times; so that what was lightly called prophecy and prediction, were but a probability that experience had taught me to discern.