His sister was the wife of a gentleman who was at that time the proprietor of Braelanguil. One evening, about half a year after the sale of her uncle’s property, she was prevailed upon by her husband to quit her apartment, to which she had been confined for months before, and to walk with him in a neighbouring wood. She spoke of the virtues and talents of the deceased, the only theme from which she could derive any pleasure; and she found that evening in her companion a more deep and tender sympathy than usual. The walk was insensibly prolonged, and she was only awakened from her reverie of tenderness and sorrow, by finding herself among the graves of Kirk-Michael. The door of her husband’s burying-ground lay open. On entering it, she perceived that a fresh grave had been added to the number of those which had previously occupied the space, and that one of the niches in the wall was filled up by a new slab of marble. It was the grave and monument of her brother. The body had been removed from the vault, and re-interred in this place by her consort; and it would perhaps be difficult to decide whether the more delicate satisfaction was derived by the sister or the husband from the walk of the evening. The epitaph is as follows:-- What science crown’d him, or what genius blest, No flattering pencil bids this stone attest; Yet may it witness with a purer pride, How many virtues sunk when Gordon died. Clear truth and nature, noble rays of mind, Open as day, that beam’d on all mankind; Warm to oblige, too gentle to offend, He never made a foe nor lost a friend. Nor yet from fortune’s height, or learning’s shade, It boasts the tribute to his memory paid; But that around, in grateful sorrow steep’d, The humble tenants of the cottage wept; Those simple hearts that shrink from grandeur’s blaze, Those artless tongues that know not how to praise, Feel and record the worth that hallow here A friend’s remembrance, and a sister’s tear.[11] Half-way between the chapel and the northern wall of the burying-ground, there is a square altar-like monument of hewn ashlar, enclosing in one of its sides a tablet of grey freestone. It was erected about sixty years ago by a baronet of Fowlis to the memory of his aunt, Mrs. Gordon of Ardoch, a woman whose singular excellence of character is recorded by the pen of Doddridge. She was the only sister of three brothers--men who ranked among the best and bravest of their age, and all of whom died in the service of their country--two in the field of battle, the third when pursuing a flying enemy. [Sidenote: SIR ROBERT MUNRO.]