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pelled by the lusty strokes of these fine athletic fellows—how beautifully feathered—how regularly dipped! her crew, admirable specimens of the man-o'wars-man! their dark and sun-tinged faces—their whiskered throats—the open collar displaying to view their muscular bosoms and brawny shoulders—their straw plaited hats, their clean checked shirts, and yardwide trousers! ashore or a-board, the merriest devils that ever chewed a quid or danced a hornpipe!

"Port a little, sir," " port it is," " hard a-portl" bawls the pilot from his stentorian lungs: " hard a-port," replies the cool collected voice of the helmsman: we turn, and lo! swiftly and steadily nearing the harbour, a We8t-Iudiaman (with us a by no means frequent visitor) "keep on her—she's deeply laden, and the water begins to fall—carry on her, my lads! what although she does rub a little—carry on her then—top-gallants, royals and all—aye! that will do: she's passed the buoys, and now lower away I let fly the jib—lower the spanker; in with royals and top-gallants—lower your top-sails! gently though; she needs them all yet: that will do—here, you there, sir, make fast that warp—now, men, haul away there! run out a rope to the dock gates—heave away there, my lads! that's the thing—there she comes: walk away with her—there you have her"—she's safely moored.

A rush to the quay side, and a man in the water! In the attempt to scull, he has missed his stroke and fallen overboard. How intense the anxiety depicted on the faces of those ashore, as he rises to the surface, and idly splashes the waves that threaten to ingulph him !" A ropeis a rope!" How wildly and imploringly he looks around! he begins to sink—his breathing is impeded by the water that rushes into his mouth—his cry for aid is thick and gasping—he's going down! Ha, what's this here! one of the gig's crew left in charge—chucks his hat and jacket into the stern-sheets, and strongly and swiftly he swims to save the drowning wretch. 'Tis time !" keep quiet, you lubber, let me get alongside, and keep down your grapplers will ye! aye, that's the way," and bravely and successfully resisting the rushing tide that threatens to bear them away, he tows him to the stairs, helps him ashore, bundles himself into his boat again, throws on his jacket and hat, and looks as if nothing had happened. These are the men !**#*#

But what's o'clock? four! why 'tis time to be off— you dine at five—eh! come let's go!


(From the German of Meismer.J Along a narrow path, where, on one hand, arose a steep and rugged mountain, and, on the other, rolled the deep and turbid stream of " Yellow Gunga," there journeyed a traveller.

Suddenly, he beheld, on the mountain's side, the eyes of an immense tiger, couching, to take his fatal spring ; to escape this impending danger, he rushed to throw himself into the darkly-rolling river, to save himself, if it were possible, by swimming to the other side; when, lo! a crocodile (alligator) presented its devouring jaws. "Miserable, that I am I" exclaimed the unhappy man, " wherever I look, is certain death." In inexpressible anguish he sunk upon the ground, just at the moment that the tiger took the fatal leap, and fell into the open jaws of the monster of the river.

In the most imminent peril even, never yield to despair; for, oft, to thy preservation, is turned that which seemed destined for thy destruction.

Apples.—To the facility of multiplying varieties by grafting, i( to be ascribed the amazing extension of the aorta of apple, probably from one common stock. The varieties at present known are considerably more than a thousand. Of late years these varieties have been increased in a remarkable manner, by the application of the pollen of one sort to the blossom of another: pollen is the prolific powder contained in the anther of the flower.


Thi Wildooosechase ; A Narrative of Real Life, as exemplified in the History and Travels of an Ambulatory Gentleman; illustrated with engravings. Glasgow, 1832.

This is, really, a splendid work of imagination, whether we regard the subject or the execution. It describes the multifarious incidents which the author met with, on a pedestrian tour between Glasgow and London, and its highest merit consists in its curious and minute detail of circumstances, which any, but a nice and critical observer, would pass unnoticed. Every trifling incident, that comes under the author's observation, is handled in a sublime and masterly manner, and, with the greatest ease, he bounds over all the niceties which perplex little minds, to beat for himself a path to fame, hitherto undiscovered by any of the roving minds which have wandered in the gardens of Parnassus. We might expatiate, at some length, upon the richness of feeling and grandeur of thought, displayed in the descriptions, illustrated, as these are, with suitable engravings; but the reader's curiosity will be gratified better by perusing the following extract, which, in the continuity and harmony of its periods, the elegance of its phrases, the invention of its words, and the beauty and novelty of its similies, bespeak an exuberant imagination, combined with a keen selection of the ludicrous :—

"In passing along a bridge, on the Scotch road, I observed a castle, and soldiers in training near by—did not stop to particularize much, but, like the fleet stag after a long chase, no more able to flee from his eager pursuers, drags along carelessly, and, with difficulty, to the termination of his last heat; so I, dispirited, solitary, exhausted, heedlessly retreated from Carlisle—entered Scotland without knowing when or where—passed through several villages of unknown name, nor gave myself the least concern, whether there was such a thing as a Roman wall to be seen ; and, indeed, today's was as heartless a day's journey as ever I had, though I did not walk, perhaps, more than six or eight miles."

What a happy power of generalization is evinced in the description of the "passing crowd" of London!

Here are the Jew and the Gentile; here, in short, are human

beings from all points of the compass, in all the varieties of classes, sorts and sizes; the tall and short, the straight, the spare, the high, the low; masters, mistresses and mademoiselles; dukes, lords and squires; whigs and tories; the king and his court; the representative from every people; the gentle, the sample, otherwise the nobility and mobility ; beaux and belles, rogues and fools, flats and sharps, &c

We shall now take leave of this matchless volume, by treating the reader with one of the many poetic flights by which it is enriched.


On a Preacher of Coldstream, who wears what is vulgarly called, a Quizzing Glass.

A Preacher of Coldstream is pious and learn'd,
And good at expounding the Scriptures;
For when matters of faith and truth are concern'd,
'Tis acknowledged by all, and fairly descern'd,
That the Preacher is clear in his strictures.

No wonder, indeed, the Preacher is so :—
But no man is faultless, alas!
When the tide of his thoughts do not evenly flow,
And his subject and matter obscure, you must know
The Preacher applies to his Glass.

O but my Phil is a charming girl—
She's captivating, cheerful, clever;

It fires my soul on her to think,

And vain, to say, I will not love her.

Black wreathes her ringlets down her cheeks, Quick rolls her eye that says she loves me;

Her lips are as the crimson dye—

I'll love her still though she undoes me.

Red are the cherries on the tree,

And luscious are the fruit of nature;

So bright the cheeks of my love be,
And, O, she is a charming creature!!!


To the Editor of Tbs Day. Sib,—Your sprightly correspondent, J. L. Marryyou, I am glad to observe, is willing, on one simple condition, to buckle with me. The condition can be very easily complied with. As her chief anxiety seems to be for a suitable provision in her expected widowhood, I think it will be quite sufficient for me to mention two of the items of my ancestorial wealth, which may quiet all her apprehensions about being left a destitute widow. The items I refer to are,

1. —A strong, hale constitution, which I shall bequeath to my children, worth, at the moderate computation, .£20,000, but say £ 10,000

My father and grandfather were both nonagenarians! N. B.—I am sure many a one would give half their fortunes, though it were ten times the above sum, for the same article, if it could be purchased.

2. —Temperate and active habits, to be bequeathed to

my spouse, if she outlive me, which is not likely 5,000


So here is a sum of £15,000 at a whip—and I shall satisfy Miss Marryyou, before our final arrangements are made, that, besides these sources of wealth, I have an ample store of "this vain world's" goods (inter alia—a great deal of money sunk in joint stocks) "to keep the pot boiling."

As to the purchasing of a "new pan" with my old brass, she may keep herself easy. If she is ever a widow at all, it will be at a time when a new pan will be as suitable for her as a "jewel in a sow's snout." However, that affairs may be brought " to a happy issue," for which I am as anxious as she is, I beg to inform Miss Marryyou, that I have, since seeing her epistle, put up a ticket, "To be Sold or Let," on my dwellingat Willow-Bank, and will be ready to remove now, or at Whitsunday, to another house, in any part of the town she may fix on for our future residence.

My betrothed has promised cake and gloves to each of the Council of Ten, on matters being brought to that "consummation which is so devoutly to be wished for." This promise shall be amply fulfilled on my part; besides, as soon after the nuptials as possible, we shall have a grand dinner and ball, to which the Council, and all the choicest writers of '* The Day," shall be invited, and then what a gala night we shall have of it!—I am, Sir, respectfully, yours,

Bachelor Benedict.

Wiflow-Bank, 29th March, 1832.

P. S The matrimonial advertisement I utterly disclaim, and

wonder much that Miss Marryyou should not discover the difference between real and spurious courtship!

B. B.


The Duchess Of St. Albans.—According to the earliest recollections of her Grace, she found herself a forsaken, starving, frozen child, in an outshed of an English village. She was taken thence by a gipsy-crew, whom she afterwards left for a company of strolling players. In this profession, she obtained some reputation by a pleasing exterior, a constant flow of spirits, and a certain originality—till by degrees she gained several friends, who magnanimously provided for her wants. She long lived in undisturbed connection with the rich banker C , who, at length

married her, and, at his death, left her a fortune of £70,000 a year. By this colossal inheritance, she afterwards became the

wife of the Duke of St. A , the third English Duke in point

of rank, and, what is a somewhat singular coincidence, the descendant of the well known actress Nell Gwynn, to whose charms the Duke is indebted for his title, in much the same way (though a hundred years earlier) as his wife is now for hers. She is a very good sort of woman, who has no hesitation in speaking of the past—on the contrary, is rather too frequent in her reminiscences. Thus she entertained us, the whole evening, with various representations of her former dramatic characters. The drollest part of the affair was, that she had taught her husband, a very young man, thirty years under her own age—to play the lover's part, which he did badly enough. Malicious tongues were naturally very busy, and the more so, as many of the recited passages gave room for the most piquant applications.—Tour of a German Prince.

Costabd-Monger.—This is an old English term for the dealers in vegetables, derived from their principal commodity of apples: the costard being a large apple, round and bulky as the head, or "costard." If we may deduce any meaning from this name, which is the same as "coster," it would appear that the costard, or large apple, was the sort in common use, and that hence the name of the variety became synonymous with that of the species; the more delicate sorts were luxuries unknown to the ordinary consumers of our native fruits, till they were rendered common by the planting of orchards in Kent, Sussex, and other parts of the kingdom.

THE BURNING OF THE EMIGRANT SHIP. "Then rote from sea to sky the wild farewell"


A SHIP, becalmed, hath ceased to glide
Along the waste of water's wide;
Her sails, unfurled, high o'er the tide,

Droop motionless and heavily.
No zephyr's breath breaks on their Test,
The cloud-wrapt heavens, with gloom opprest;
Deep in the lulled Atlantic's breast,

Reflected slumber, sullenly.
There they, who, pensive, gaze upon
The dim and distant horizon;
Descry no sail—she rests alone,

A white-rob'd pilgrim of the sea.
She left a fair and glorious Isle,
Where hill and vale, in beauty smile;
Of freedom's tree, the native soil,

The altar home of liberty.
From wave-girt Albion's mountain strand,
She beareth to a foreign land
A lovely, yet a guiltless band,
Of many a peaceful family.
Lover, and friend, and wedded pair,
The young, the old, in hope are there;
And brows, long dark with clouds of care,

Are sun-lit from futurity.
The restless boy, whose ardent eye,
Invokes the breezes of the sky;
Or hails the land of promise nigh,

Where mist-reared shores stretch silently. *
The sire of years and hoary head,
Who thought not, once, his last cold bed
Might be among the ocean's dead,
Far from his father's sepulchre.
Fair ship, that, like a bird of flight,
With wings wouldst scale the wave's proud height;
Ah! down may lie thy path ere night,

To coral caves that yawn for thee,
Thou shalt not fall by tempest's riven,
Or, on the roaring breakers driven;
Thy mother flood to thee hath given

Her bosom in tranquillity.
Yet earthquake and tornado take
Oft times the stillest hour to wake;
Thunders sleep deepest, ere they break;

And false is thy serenity.
Mysterious Heaven! dark in thine ire,
What other woe could ever inspire
That rending, withering, shriek of fire,

Such bitter, bitter, agony?
In vain the brave, the flames repel—
They burst—they spread, with fury fell;
But who the victims there may tell

Their feelings, in calamity?
Love, that affliction more endears,
Despair, struck dumb—grief bathed in tears—
The wonder-gaze that childhood wears,

The uncoucious smile of infancy.
Laughter wild of sudden madness,
As if amid the sounds of gladness;
Resignation, calm in sadness,

And pleading prayer on low bent knee.
Pangs that valour dares to smother,
Fear, that would fly, yet knows not whither -,
The clasp of friends, who die together,

Unsever'd in eternity.
The waitings fall, as if in sleep,
While rlsetb round with broader sweep,
Like some volcano of the deep,
Her red and flaming cemetry!

• • • • •

'Tis past—with one explosive shock,
As when some shell of war hath broke;
She sinks beneath a dome of smoke

In fathomless eternity.
Cup of anguish—cup of wrath-
Poured on the boundless ocean's path;
Devoting this poor bark to death,

How full wer't thou of misery?
Her tomb, by waves, shall be forgot,
The sailor s eye shall trace it not;
One blood-red star, high o'er the spot—

Its woeful beacon sign shall be.

• The phenomenon of illusive appearances of land are known to every voyager.


"Are the 4th gone?" Is the first question at the breakfast table every morning, and the sulky growl with which papa answers, '* don't know, I'm sure, Miss," at the same time that he runs his eye over his newspaper, makes the fair one resolve to seek her information from another source. Accordingly, she hastens, upon pretence of some shopping required, to Argyll Street or the Arcade, where she hopes to get a glimpse of a military Burtout. Her

curiosity is soon gratified, Major , Captain , Lieutenant

, or Cornet , passes on horseback, and his hat is raised

from his head to acknowledge a bow from the lady; and away she skims, like Camilla over the plain, to pay a visit an hour earlier than the usual etiquette, and to announce to a number of expecting listeners that the dragoons are still in Glasgow.


ROYAL PICTURE GALLERY. Our readers have probably heard, if they have not been there to see, that there is a collection of paintings in one of the apartments of Holyrood house, which are pretended to be portraits of the old Scottish Kings. As specimens of art, they are, generally, esteemed to be beneath criticism, and it is very apocryphal, whether they really are portraits of the personages whose names are attached to thein. Smollet, in his " Expedition of Humphry Clinker," gives his opinion on the whole matter with very little reserve. Speaking of Holyroodhouse, he observes :—" The apartments are lofty, but unfurnished; and as for the pictures of the Scottish Kings, from Fergus I. to King William, they are paltry daubings, mostly by the same hand, painted either from the imagination, or from porters hired to sit for the purpose." The pictures, however, in defiance of Dr. Smollet's opinion, are still shewn to strangers visiting the palace, as the real portraits of Scotland's ancient Monarch*. But the visitors do not always give implicit credence to the story. A deceased bookseller of Edinburgh, well known for his fondness of a good joke, and his own inimitable style of passing one oil', used to tell, with great glee, of the significant way in which the Persian Ambassador, who, some years ago, visited these Northern regions, expressed his opinion of the paintings in question. On their being pointed out to him by the old female Cicerone, who had charge of the gallery, his Excellency shrugged up his shoulders, and addressed the woman in very bad English, "you paint dem picterr?" "Eh na, please your Lordship," said the woman, with a broad grin and a shake of her head, " I cauna pit my hand to any thing like that." This, to his Excellency, who knew very little of the English language, and far less of the Scottish dialect, was perfectly unintelligible, but with a roguish look at the pictures, and then at the woman, he replied, "Ah! you mak' betterr."


The following advertisements shew that the Municipal Authorities of our good city have, generally, struck at higher game in their proclamations, than their brethren of Auld Reekie. We will give precedence, on account of its date, to that of Glasgow :—

From the West Country Intelligence of January, 1715—a Glasgow newspaper published three times every week for the use of the country round :—

"Glasgow, Jan. 13.—-His Grace the Duke of Argyle has been pleased to cause proposals be Issu'd, for the encouragement of men and horses to serve in transporting the artillery, ammunition, baggage and other necessarys for the army, when they march into the north against the rebels; by these proposals, every man with a horse, is to have, for himself, sixpence, and for his horse, one shilling sterling, with a stone of hay and half a peck of oats each day; every carter to have eightpence per day with the foresaid allowances for each horse, which are to be paid twice a week. All the horses, before they are called out, are to be apprized by sworn men appointed for that purpose, and the values of them kept in a public record, that, in case any of them be lost in the aforesaid service, the value of the horses so lost may be repaid to the owners. And, in case, any who have horses, shall refuse to bring them out upon these encouragements, they shall be forced into the service without any allowance whatsomever. I understand the Duke of Argyle has proportioned the horses to be raised in the manner following :—By the Shire of Air, 300. The Shire of Renfrew, 60. The Shire of Dumbarton, 50. The Shire of Clidesdale, 300, whereof the town of Glasgow is to put out 135 and 15 carts.

"This day our Magistrates have Issu'd out a proclamation, requering all the inhabitants of this city, who have horses, to repair with them to the Old Green, this afternoon, at three of the clock, where they are to be appriz'd."

From the Edinburgh Advertiser of February, 1761:—"By order of the Right Hon. the Lord Provost, Magistrates and Council of the city of Edinburgh Whereas, it has been reported to us, that a new, safe and effectual antidote against bugs has been discovered by Ebenezer Oliphaut, jeweller, goldsmith and burgess of this place, we thought it incumbent on us to make strict inquiry into said report, and, baring tun ml it true, by the repeated attestations of several private families of this city who

had their houses cleansed by him. As, also, an attestation from the managers of the charity work-bouse of Edinburgh, in a general meeting, certifying the house being cleansed of said vermin by the said Mr. Olipbant, without the least injury to the health of any of the people in said house, the number of the family, during the whole operation, consisting of betwixt six and seven hundred people, of all ages and both sexes. Also, by au attestation from the Matron of the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, confirmed by the report of the physicians attending said Infirmary—that Mr. Ollphant had cleansed three wards of that house which were infected with bugs, without injuring the health of the patients, or spoiling any part of the house or furniture. Therefore, we thought it proper to intimate the same in the most public manner, that any person or persons having the misfortune of having their houses or furniture being spoiled by said vermin, may be relieved from that domestic plague, by applying to the said Ebenezer Olipbant."


TO LET, the MANSION-HOUSE of CRAIGHALL., situated a little to the north of Port-Dundas, and within half-an-hour's walk of the Royal Exchange. The House consists of Dining-room, Drawing-room, Parlour, Five Bedrooms, besides Light Closets, Kitchen, Laundry, Washing-bouse, Cellars, &c.

There are good Offices, which consist of Stabling, Byre, &c, &c, Also, a large Garden, which is well-stocked with fruit trees—and grass sufficient to pasture two Cows.

The House to be seen on Mondays and Thursdays. Rent moderate..-.. Apply to JOHN SMITH, 14, Gordon Street.

Glasgow, 2d Feb. 1832.

T the ANNUAL GENERAL MEETING of the PROPRIETORS of the NORTH BRITISH INSURANCE CORPORATION, held within the Company's Office, Hanover Street, on Monday the 5th instant, the following Noblemen and Gentlemen were elected PRESIDENTS and DIRECTORS, and a DIVIDEND was declared payable on Monday, the 4th day of June next.

President.—His Grace the Duke Of Gordon.

Vice-presidents The Right Honourable the Earl of

Abovne.—The Right Honourable the Earl. of CmrcsDows and Gleneagles.

Extraordinary Directors—The Right Honourable Lord

Viscount Strathullan The Honourable Lord MoncrietT.—Sir

Thomas Dick Lauder of Fountainhall, Bart.. —Sir Robert Dundas of Dunira, Bart. — George Macpherson Grant, Esq. of Bal

lendalloch John Cuiiniughame, Esq. of Duloch.—William

Trotter, Esq. of Ballendean Henry Monteith, Esq. of Carstairs Thomas Guthrie Wright, Esq. Auditor of the Court of

Session.—* Richard Alexander Oswald, Esq. of Aucbincruive. —• Henry Hoaldswortb, Esq. of Cranstonhill, Glasgow.— * Colin Campbell, Esq. Possil.

Ordinary Directors. — Robert Cockburn, Esq. Chairman

Robert Wright, Esq.—William Young, Esq.—Robert Menzies,

Esq James Nairne, Esq Hugh Broughton, Esq James

Hay, Esq * James Farquhar Gordon, Esq * James Gillespie Davidson, Esq—Gilbert Laurie Finlay, Esq. — Alexander Monypenny, Esq.—Thomas Richardson, Esq.

James Borthwick, Manager.—John Brash, Secretary.
Those marked * are New Directors.

The following advantages are offered to the Public, by this office :

The Assured may either participate in the Profits, guaranteed against risk by the Capital of the Company, or they may secure to their heirs a precise sum at a reduced rate of premium. On the Ith May, 1831, an addition was declared to the participating policies in force on the 31st December, 1830, of £1 per cent, on the sums insured for each year they have been iu force within the Septennial period, ending that day.

Policies when transferred in security of Loans are relieved from the Duelling clause.

Every facility is given to parties going Abroad, and no charge for travelling in Europe.

No extra premium required from Naval or Military Gentlemen, unless called into actual service.

No admission fees or entry money charged.
North British Insurance Office, >
Edinburgh, 15tb March, 1832. $


N. HODGART, Union Bank, Agent for Paisley.

Published, every Morning, Sunday excepted, by John Finlay, at No. 9, Miller Street; and Sold by John Wylie, 97, Argyle Street; David Robertson, and W. R. M'phun, Glasgow i Thomas Stevenson, and the other Booksellers, Edinburgh: DaVid Dick, and A. Gardner, Booksellers, Paisley .* A. Laura, Greenock; and J. Glass, Bookseller, Hotlisay.








The excitement caused by recent occurrences was beginning to subside, and, notwithstanding the impetuosity of his temper, was nearly forgotten by Mr. Heatherbleat, himself, when, one evening, as he sat alone in his small parlour, musing over the singular complexion of the times, a person was ushered into his apartment so strangely muffled up, as to render it difficult to determine whether the visitor was man or woman. Pushing her hood over her head, and fastening the door, carefully, behind her, Eleanor Lyll— who was unknown to the minister—advanced towards him, and, taking a seat, with great unconcern, said,

"I am the Knight of Upper Newton's daughter, Sir, and would have private speech of thee, on a matter of importance."

"Ha I" cried Heatherbleat, " Satan within my house —what want ye here? get thee behind me, temptress."

" Be calm, Sir, be calm. Knowest thou the girl, Rose Allison."

"Sure, I do, but what be that to thee, lady?"

"She is of thy people, is she not?"

"Truly, she once was, and I would she were again. She was the pearl of my flock, thanks to my efforts for the salvation of her soul, and the direction of her footsteps ; but she hath been ill at ease of late—all because of sojourning in thy heathenish house. What would'st thou with her or me?"

"Not much, Sir, but as I have some respect for that young person, I would wish to advertise thee that there have been passages of love between her and my brother, the young Knight."

"'Tis false," exclaimed Heatherbleat, with great emotion, and pacing the apartment with hasty strides, as he ejaculated—" 'tis false as hell, and thou vituperatest thine own sex in saying so, lady. Wert thou the daughter of a king, instead of a proud Popisli Knight, I would say so to thy face."

"Say what ye please, Sir, it can be nothing to me; but, I understood thou wert somewhat particular in these matters in thy sect, and I thought it right to instruct thee of the fact, for the maiden's own sake."

"'Tis false, madam, I say again, 'tis false; but, an it were true, I do marvel much that thou, a woman and a sister, should'st bruit the dishonour of thine own blood. There have been rumours, I know, but they were vulgar slanders, and beneath thy notice, one would think. What proof hast thou against this poor child I"

"Mine eye-sight, Sir. Will that satisfy thee?" . "Thine eye-sight! What would'st thou say, woman, or demon, or whatever else thou art ? Thine eyesight!"

H I have said all I mean to say, Sir, and thou may'st believe, or disbelieve, as it listeth thee; but, thinkest thou, I would come on such an errand alone, and to thee, too, an' I had no grounds for my assertion? Thou knowest me not, Sir."

"Truly, I do not, and I do thank God for the same. Believe so foul a calumny as thou hast now propounded! I would as soon believe that the sun was stricken

out of the firmament, or that thou wert any thing else than a Popish witch."

"Thou'rt both bigot and fool, fellow; but as thou wilt not believe word of mouth, perhaps thou wilt trust the testimony of thine own senses. Do these letters prove nothing, and this likeness, which she wore for years, will it prove nothing?"

And, as she spoke, she laid on the table the miniature which Rose had consigned to the hands of Lady Lyll, but which, in the subsequent confusion, had fallen to the ground, and been picked up by her ; and several letters which her emissaries had managed to obtain possession of, and which were couched in the usual hyperbolical language of love epistles. Stupified, but not convinced, as his eye coursed rapidly over the letters, he again exclaimed!

"But what didst thou see, lady—thy speech is ambiguous, and this is a weighty matter." ■ <

"I saw Rose locked in my brother's arms, and the burning kiss impressed again and again on her lips," and ere the minister could reply, she had departed, leaving the documents of Rose's guilt in his possession.

Had Mr. Heatherbleat been accustomed to weigh evidence, or had he been a man of sufficient calmness of mind, to examine any subject coolly, he would not only have seen, that the so-called proof now laid before him, and the object of the party who had made the communication, were alike worthless; but, it unfortunately happened that he was neither, and that, when strongly excited, he mistook the suggestions of passion for the inspirations of wisdom. On the present occasion the struggle was long and doubtful, but, when he reflected on the scorn with which his advances had been repelled by Rose—when he read the letters of the young knight, and looked on the miniature which she had worn—when he thought of her opportune domestication at the castle—and, more especially, when he imagined the scene wherein Alan hung over her in passionate fondness—other feelings than those of a purely judicial character mingled themselves with his reflexions, and filled him with a transport of jealous indignation, and of holy rage. The remainder of the night he passed in ruminating over all the circumstances, illuminated, as they began to be, by a recollection of the reports which had been long in circulation, and which, with more discretion than was common with him, he had, hitherto, disregarded, but which now assumed a well-defined form and shape. As morning dawned, he threw himself, undressed, upon his bed, and resigned himself to a disturbed sleep, from which he awoke feverish, unrefreshed, and ill at ease.

At noon, he summoned his Session, and laid before them the documents which he held, with an account of the way in which he became possessed of them; but, to his surprise, he found that they did not make the same impression on the minds of his fellow compurgators, as on his own. Unused to opposition, he insisted on their weight, and, waxing warm, he applied the term harlot to the beautiful and innocent object of his misplaced anger.

"For shame, for shame"—cried several voices, at once, "Mr. Heatherbleat, that's an unco strong word to use against the bit lassy. Bairns will toy, ye ken."

"But I will bear none of this billing and cooing," vociferated the Minister: "it may not, and shall not be, while I am the guardian of this flock. Who be the men among ye, who will stand by your spiritual leader on this occasion? Come forth, and join me, in summoning this man, and his sinful daughter, to penance."

Of the number, two, only, could be found, who were willing to take a part in so painful a transaction, and they were known to be unfriendly to Cuthbert. The rest departed to their several occupations, grieved and humbled by the conduct of their pastor.

On the evening of that day, which, unknowingly to her, had opened so ominously for her future peace, Rose and her father sat together at the door of their cottage, enjoying their simple and frugal repast. A blush of health was beginning, once more, to spread over her countenance, though a practised eye would havo discovered, in its still languid expression, the ravages of recent disease, and the traces of deep-rooted melancholy. The cool breeze of an autumn evening was playing over the now bare fields, and wafting the withered foliage from the trees ; but the sky was clear and frosty, and a placid serenity smiled upon the scene.

"Methinks, father," said Rose, " the soul must sympathize deeply with the stillness and loveliness of nature. What a medicine to a sick heart is the silent beauty of the living world."

"True, child—true," said Cuthbert; " and it should make us thankful to God that his most indispensable mercies, at least, are not exposed to the influences of human caprice and pride. But here be footsteps, an I mistake not, I wonder who can mean to visit us at so late an hour."

These words were hardly uttered, when Heatherbleat and his two companions advanced; and, standing before the door of the cabin, the former began his harangue in a voice, trembling with emotion, and, with a face, pale from exhaustion and passion.

"Cuthbert Allison—I, the minister of Upper Newton, with the advice of my Kirk Session, and, in the presence of these godly men, do summon thee and thy guilty daughter, to compear before the said Session on to-morrow's eve, there and then to answer certain grave charges made and upheld against ye both. Do ye consent to answer in person?"

"Sirs," said Cuthbert, rising from his seat as he spoke, and unable to conceal his astonishment, though aware that Heatherbleat had ground of charge against himself, "Sirs, I may not answer this summons till I know with what we are charged. I am aware that thou hast cause of complaint against myself, Mr. Heatherbleat, and since thou hast been unmanly enough to use thine advantage, I do not object to a friendly conference anent that matter; but, against my child, thou canst have none, and let that man look to himself, who would make any such." Rose clung to her father as he spoke, and gazed, with a look of dismay, on the stern and coarse features of Heatherbleat, as he replied,

"Proud man, thou wilt yet be humbled in the dust. Talk not to me of friendly conferences. Thou art guilty thyself, that thou knowest full well, and, as to thy daughter, I have that proof against ber which will shame ye both out of the land, as hypocrites and devil servers."

"Ye lie, foul priest," cried Cuthbert, "ye lie, and, if thou walk not off, and leav'st not me and my child to our solitude, and our sorrows, I will smite thee to the earth."

"Then, thou wilt not come? Be it so, my duty is done. Before these, my brethren, I denounce thee as a contemner of Sabbaths, a despiser of ordinances, a communicator with Papists, and a drunkard, and thy daughter as a perjured harlot."

A scream issued from the mouth of the trembling and unfortunate girl, as the dreadful expression re

sounded in her ears; but,before she had time to utter one word, exculpatory or defensive, her father had snatched from the ceiling, where it habitually hung, a small Moorish dagger, of exquisite workmanship, which he had got in Spain, and had sprung on his adversary with the strength of a lion on his prey. The companions of the clergyman shrank back, but he, himself, was instantly in the gripe of the infuriated parent. The struggle was short. They both fell. The left hand of Cuthbert encircled Heatherbleat's throat, and the right was raised, preparatory to plunging the dagger into his bosom, when Rose sprang forward, and plucked the weapon out of her father's hand. The blow fell, but harmlessly, and, Heatherbleat's companions approaching, he was rescued from immediate strangulation.

"We shall meet again," exclaimed Cuthbert, "when no hand will be ready to protect thee. Blood, alone, shall wipe out this injury."

(From the German of Krummacher. J

Let man always accustom himself to think "what
God sends is good, whether it may appear to him good

or evil."

A pious wise man came to a town, the gates of which were shut, no one would open them to him; hungry and thirsty, he was obliged to pass the night, with the heavens for his canopy. He said, "what God sends is good," and laid himself down. Near him, stood his ass, and at his side, a burning lamp. But a storm arose, and extinguished the light; a lion came, and tore his ass in pieces. He awoke, found himself alone, and said, "what God sends is good." He waited patiently for the dawn of day. When he came to the gate, he found it open,she town laid waste, sacked and plundered. A band of robbers had attacked it, and, during that same night, had either killed, or carried off as prisoners, all the inhabitants. He, alone, was spared. "Said I not," exclaimed the Optimist, "that all that God sends is good? But now, am I, only, permitted, in the morning, to behold what the evening before was hid from my view."

The Stobtino Magazine for April, 1832.

Our "Day With The Hounds," we understand, pleased Snobs as well as Sportsmen, and we don't wonder at it; for such a literary race with fox-hounds we never recollect of perusing. This circumstance has made us regard sporting with more favourable eyes than we have been wont to do, since that fell foe to all sport, the gout and rheumatism, forced us to part with our old thorough-bred. Feeling the old tid upon us, however, we went in, and once more became a subscriber to Pittmaris Magazine, and we have since sat down with as much zest to consult the Sporting Calendar as we were of yore wont to look out for the feats of Hamiltonian and Diamond. The fact is, our late fast, in this respect, has given us a new appetite for the turf, the stream, the air and the field, and we feel inclined to make our readers partake of the pleasure which we ourselves have enjoyed.

The number of the Magazine before us is a very fair one. It tells us of "Angling," treats of the "Migration of the Snipe and Woodcock, Norway Teal and Golden-Ey'd Diver"—deals in "Days of Hog Hunting in India"—gives us a " Day at Melton," and "a peep at the Suffolk Hounds," and a humorous account of the "Steeple Chase at St. Alban's," for 1000 guineas, with a dozen other things, that would make an old sportsman leap from his couch, although he were as stiff as old Justice Woodcock. We might extract many good things from this number, to give

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