Thomas Brown Bain

“ On their way they passed by the manse, and Dr Hadden’s name was mentioned.
“He has a son in America who has done well there. There are two or three lads from this parish who have gone out to him, Willie Bain among the rest”; and then Brownrig muttered to himself words which John could not hear, but he answered:
“I have heard of several who have done well out there. Land is cheap and good, and skilled labour is well paid,” and so on.
But Brownrig came back again to Bain.
“That will not be the way with him. An idle lad and an ill-doing was he. Folk said I was hard on him. He thought it himself. ”

“ It will be a sore thing for her to go home and find only graves.”
“Doctor,” said Brownrig suddenly, “you’ll no’ set yourself against it longer—for the sake of Allison Bain!”
“My friend,” said the doctor, bending forward and taking his hand, “I see what your thought is, and I honour you for it. Wait a day or two more before you make your plans to go, and then, if it is possible for you to have your wish, you shall have it, and all shall be made as easy and safe for you as it can possibly be made. You are right in thinking that you will never—be a strong man again. ”

“ He was afraid, not of Brownrig, but of himself. He was growing wild at the thought that this man should have any hold over Allison Bain—that the time might come when, with the help of the law, he might have her in his power. But he restrained himself, and was outwardly calm to the last.
“Ye’re wise to go your ways,” said the innkeeper, as John went into the open air. “Yon man’s no easy to do wi’, when he gets past a certain point. He’ll give these two lads all the story of his wrongs, as he calls it, before he’s done. He’s like a madman, drinking himself to death.” ”

“ But Brownrig showed no sign of knowing that Allison had been in the town, and in a few days he turned his face homeward again.
Then John had time to attend to his own affairs, and it went ill with him for a while. He faced his trouble like a man, and “had it out with himself,” as he might have “had it out” with friend or foe, with whom a battle was to be fought for the sake of assured peace to come after.
Yes, he loved Allison Bain—loved her so well that he had been willing to sacrifice a hopeful future at home, and begin a life of labour in a strange land, so that she might share it with him. ”

“ Poor John Bain, Allison’s father, you ken, had had much to bear what with one trouble and another, for many a day, and the last one fell heavier than them all. On the day when his son was condemned to an imprisonment for eighteen months, he had a stroke and he never looked up again, though he lingered a while, and Allison refused to leave him. Brownrig is a man who cares little what may be his neighbours’ opinion with regard to him, but he could hardly venture to insist on his wife’s coming home while her father needed her, for there was no one else to care for the poor old man. ”

“ Saunners told of the bonny, quiet place on the hillside, where he had laid her down, and before he had taken time to consider, the name of Allison Bain had been uttered.
“I saw the names of her father and her mother—‘John Bain and Allison his wife’—on a fine, new headstane that had been put over them by their son. They hae been dead a year and more. Decent folk they seem to hae been. He farmed his ain land. I heard about it from a wee bowed wifie who was there in the kirkyard. ”

“ Bain published a Compendium of Mental and Moral Science (1868) , Mind and Body (1875) , and Education as a Science (1879) , for the International Scientific Series. In 1882 he published James Mill, a Biography, and John Stuart Mill: a Criticism, with Personal Recollections. In 1881 he was elected Lord Rector of the University of Aberdeen, and this honor was renewed in 1884, in which year he published Practical Essays.
Bainham (James) , martyr. He married the widow of Simon Fish, author of the Supplycacion of Beggars, an attack upon the clergy of the period. ”

“ Christopher Bain, nine years of age, was the bully; poor, harmless Willie was the victim; and Button Bowie, whose father was foreman to Bain's father, was the toady. Bain founded his superiority on the fact that his father was the largest farmer in the neighbourhood, and kept a gig. He was conceited, brazen-faced, and loud. Coming forward, he [Pg 215] cried, "Weel, what's that little numskull, that dunce o' the hale schule, been sayin' noo? He's gettin' stupider than ever." ”

“ Mr Rainy said nothing for a moment, but looked doubtfully at the doctor.
“He is an unworldly kind of a man,” said he to himself, “and though he has not said as much, I daresay he is thinking in his heart that it is a fine thing in Allison Bain to be firm in refusing to take the benefit of what was left to her. And if I were to tell who the next of kin is, it might confirm her in her foolishness. But I’ll say nothing to him, nor to Mrs Esselmont.” ”

“ Is there no one who is aware of what has befallen you?”
Allison grew red and then pale. It was the last question that she answered.
“It was in our parish that Saunners Crombie buried his wife. One night he came into the manse kitchen, and he told me that he had seen my name on a new headstone, ‘John Bain and Allison his wife’—the names of my father and mother. And he had some words with one who had known me all my life. ”

“ What John Beaton saw was Allison Bain standing apart, with Marjorie in her arms, and he saw nothing else for a while. Even Robin, with his bag on his shoulder, stopped a moment to gaze at “our lass,” as he called her in a whisper to his friend. She looked a very different lass from “our Allie” in the manse kitchen, with her downcast eyes, and her silence, and her utter engrossment with the work of the moment. Her big mutch had fallen off, and a mass of bright hair lay over the arm which the child had clasped about her neck. ”

“ This was succeeded (1887, 1888) by a new edition of the Rhetoric, and along with it, a book On Teaching English, being an exhaustive application of the principles of rhetoric to the criticism of style, for the use of teachers; and in 1894 he published a revised edition of The Senses and the Intellect, which contains his last word on psychology. In 1894 also appeared his last contribution to Mind. His last years were spent in privacy at Aberdeen, where he died on the 18th of September 1903. He married twice but left no children.
Bain’s life was mainly that of a thinker and a man of letters. ”

“ For no sooner was Donald Bain out of the house with all the ungodly crew than Jean, his sister, flew upstairs to us, with her gown all pulled awry as she had escaped from the hands of the roysterers.
"'Come your ways out, you puir young things,' she cried; 'they are gane, and the foul fiend ride ahint them. May they never come this road again, that kenned neither how to behave themselves seemly in a manse nor how to conduct them before a decent lass. ”

“ Indeed, sir, I canna think it right for you to go so far. Mightna ye just bide still at home till they come to the kirkyard?”
But the minister shook his head. “I will need to go, Barbara. Think of poor Allison Bain on this sorrowful day.”
“Ay, poor Allie! I’m wae for her this sorrowful day, as ye say. Greatly she’ll need a good word spoken to her. But in a’ the rain—and at your age—”
“Ay! I am a good ten years older than the man we are to lay in the grave. I might, as ye say, meet them at the kirkyard, but I must see that desolate bairn. And I think it may be fair.” ”

“ It is a pity that the poor man didna get to his own house to die.”
“Yes, it was Brownrig’s sole reason for wishing to go, that all might be made easier for her. He was eager to see her in the possession of all he had to give. It was too late, however. He failed rapidly, after he told me his wish. Still, I do not think that her being there would have made any difference in the end.”
“Do you mean that she would have said the same in those circumstances, and that she will hold out now? That she will go her own ways, and earn her bread, and call herself Allison Bain to the end of her days? No, no! ”

“ Before he went away on the morning after they had heard the story which Crombie had to tell, John Beaton had said to his mother:
“If Allison Bain seems anxious or restless, you must find some way of letting her know that she has nothing to fear from the old man. He will say nothing to harm her.” ”

“ Gude-nicht to be. Ye hae shortened my road, and mony thanks. I winna ask ye to come in.”
“No. I must be early up and awa’ in the morning, and it may be long ere I be home again. Ye might look in on my mother whiles, when ye’re down our way. She’s much alone.”
If John had planned his best to win Saunners to friendliness, and to silence concerning the affairs of Allison Bain, he could have said nothing more to the purpose than that. Saunners accepted the invitation, and came now and then to inquire for the health of Mrs Beaton, and “heard only good words from her,” as he said. ”

“ And what say ye, John?”
“I say that my mother seldom makes a mistake when she lets herself speak strongly about any matter. I agree with her that ye took the right course when ye made up your mind to say nothing about the matter.”
Crombie fidgeted in his chair, and was silent for a minute or two.
“I said nothing to the man himsel’, but I did drop a word to Allison Bain. She said nothing, but I saw by her face that she understood. I only hope I may na hae done ill in speakin’.” ”

“ How it happened canna be said, but they found him in the morning lying by the dike-side, dead—it was supposed at first. But they carried him to the infirmary, and he is living yet. He is coming to himself, and kens folk, and he may live to leave the place, but it’s less than likely.”
“And who bade you come to Allison Bain with all this?” asked Mrs Beaton, gravely. “And are you quite sure it is true?”
“Oh! ay, it’s true. I didna come to her with hearsays. I gaed mysel’ to the infirmary and I saw him with my ain een. And who bade me come here to her, say ye? ”

“ And, man! gin ye’re een should ever licht on ane that ca’s hersel’ Allie Bain, gae by her, as gin she wasna there. It’s better that neither man nor woman should ken where she has made her refuge, lest ane should speak her name by chance, and the birds o’ the air should carry the sound o’ it to her enemy ower yonder. Na, na! The least said is soonest mended, though I doubt I have been sayin’ mair than was wise mysel’. But ye seem a decent-like bodie, and ye were in sair trouble, and I thocht I micht hearten ye with friendly words ere ye gaed awa’. ”

“ And doesna he hate it waur than pain or sin by this time? Ay! that does he,” said she with her shrill laughter. “He has had a hard year o’ it. He gaes here and there; and when a new-comer is to be seen among us, his een is upon him to mak’ sure that he mayna hae something to say to the folk that bides in Grassie—that’s the Bains’ farm. And gin he thocht one had a word to say about Allie, he would gar his black dog rive him in bits but he would get it out o’ him.” ”

“ These were the very first words which had passed between them concerning the sorrow which had come to them both through Allison Bain, and they were nearly all that were ever spoken.
“I grieved for you, John, and I feared for you; but I trusted Allison Bain. If she does not love him, he is in no danger, I said. If she loves him, she will withstand him for his own sake.” ”

“ But all that had been long past before Allison Bain came with her spoiled life, and her heavy heart, to seek shelter under his roof. By that time, to no minister—to no man in all the countryside—was a truer respect, a fuller confidence given, by those whose good word was of any value. ”

“ He came to the house while Mr Bain lived, but one told me who saw him there often, that since the day of their marriage Allison has neither given him good word nor bad, nor touched his hand, nor lifted her eyes to his face. Doubtless the man must have his misgivings about her and about what is to happen now. ”

“ Mr Rainy had never come much into contact with Allison Bain. She was to him “just a woman, like the lave.” He had no wife, and no near kin among women, and it is possible that he knew less of the sex than he thought he did. He did not pretend to know much about Allison, but he knew that several people, whose sense and judgment he respected, thought well of her. She was tall and strong, and had a face at which it was a pleasure to look, and, judging from all that he had heard about her, she might be freer than most, from the little vanities and weaknesses usual to her kind. ”

“ A hard man he has been called, but he suits our thriftless laird all the better for that. He has kept his place as factor at Blackhills for fifteen years and more, and has grown rich, they say—as riches are counted among folk who for the most part are poor. And he is respected—in a way.”
“Well, if I had been asked about it, I would have said that it was a rise in the world for Allie Bain to be made the mistress of the factor’s fine house over yonder. I suppose he might have looked for a wife in almost any of the better families of the countryside, without much chance of being refused.” ”

“ Peter Mancroft, Norwich, was celebrated by the ringers of that church.
JULY.
3.—Extracts from an article in the “Natal Mercury” of May 11th, on the life and labours of Mr. Thomas Baines, F.R.G.S., “just then deceased,” were published. Mr. Baines was a native of King’s Lynn, where he was born in 1822. At an early age he gave evidence of artistic instincts, and of his love of travel and adventure. His first experiences of the kind were in South Australia. When little more than a youth, he took part in an expedition which traversed a then unpenetrated portion of the Continent. ”