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muttered the name of Rashleigh. He prayed but for life -for life he would give all he had in the world;-it was but life he asked-life, if it were to be prolonged under tortures and privations ;-he asked only breath, though it should be drawn in the damps of the lowest caverns of their hills.

It is impossible to describe the scorn, the loathing, and contempt, with which the wife of MacGregor regarded this wretched petitioner for the poor boon of existence.

"I could have bid you live," she said, "had life been to you the same weary and wasting burden that it is to methat it is to every noble and generous mind. But you wretch! you could creep through the world unaffected by its various disgraces, its ineffable miseries, its constantly ac cumulating masses of crime and sorrow, you could live and enjoy yourself, while the noble-minded are betrayed,while nameless and birthless villains tread on the neck of the brave and long-descended, you could enjoy yourself, like a butcher's dog in the shambles, battening on garbage, while the slaughter of the brave went on around you! This enjoyment you shall not live to partake of; you shall die, base dog, and that before yon cloud has passed over the sun."

She gave a brief command, in Gaelic, to her attendants, two of whom seized upon the prostrate suppliant, and hurried him to the brink of a cliff which overhung the flood. He set up the most piercing and dreadful cries that fear ever uttered-I may well term them dreadful, for they haunted my sleep for years afterwards. As the murderers, or executioners, call them as you will, dragged him along, he recognised me even in that moment of horrour, and exclaimed, in the last articulate words I ever heard him utter, "O, Mr. Osbaldistone, save me !-save me !"

I was so much moved by this horrid spectacle, that, although in momentary expectation of sharing his fate, I did attempt to speak in his behalf, but, as might have been expected, my interference was sternly disregarded. The victim was held fast by some, while others, binding a large heavy stone in a plaid, tied it round his neck, and others again eagerly stripped him of some part of his dress. Halfnaked, and thus manacled, they hurried him into the lake, there about twelve feet deep, drowning his last death-shriek with a loud halloo of vindictive triumph, over which, however, the yell of mortal agony was distinctly heard. The

heavy burden splashed in the dark-blue waters of the lake, and the Highlanders, with their pole-axes and swords, watched an instant, to guard, lest, extricating himself from the load to which he was attached, he might have struggled to regain the shore. But the knot had been securely bound; the victim sunk without effort; the waters, which his fall had disturbed, settled calmly over him, and the unit of that life for which he had pleaded so strongly, was for ever withdrawn from the sum of human existence.


April Day.-ANONYMOUS.*

ALL day the low-hung clouds have dropt
Their garnered fulness down;
All day that soft, gray mist hath wrapt
Hill, valley, grove, and town.
There has not been a sound to day

To break the calm of nature;
Nor motion, I might almost say,

Of life, or living creature ;-
Of waving bough, or warbling bird,
Or cattle faintly lowing;-

I could have half believed I heard
The leaves and blossoms growing.
I stood to hear-I love it well-
The rain's continuous sound;
Small drops, but thick and fast they fell,
Down straight into the ground.
For leafy thickness is not yet

Earth's naked breast to screen,
Though every dripping branch is set
With shoots of tender green.

Sure, since I looked at early morn,
Those honey-suckle buds

Have swelled to double growth: that thorn
Hath put forth larger studs.

* Extracted from the Review of "The Widow's Tale, and other poems, by the author of Ellen Fitzarthur," in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, 1822.

That lilach's cleaving cones have burst,
The milk-white flowers revealing;
Even now, upon my senses first

Methinks their sweets are stealing.
The very earth, the steamy air,
Is all with fragrance rife!
And grace and beauty every where
Are flushing into life.

Down, down they come-those fruitful stores!
Those earth-rejoicing drops!
A momentary deluge pours,
Then thins, decreases, stops.
And ere the dimples on the stream
Have circled out of sight,
Lo! from the west, a parting gleam
Breaks forth of amber light.


The dead Lamb.-ANONYMOUS.*

THE shepherd saunters last :—but why
Comes with him, pace for pace,
That ewe? and why, so piteously,

Looks up the creature's face ?-
Swung in his careless hand, she sees

(Poor ewe!) a dead, cold weight, The little one her soft, warm fleece So fondly cherished late.

But yesterday, no happier dam
Ranged o'er those pastures wide
Than she, fond creature! when the lamb
Was sporting by her side.

It was a new-born thing :-the rain

Poured down all night-its bed

Was drenched and cold. Morn came again,

But the young lamb was dead.

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Yet the poor mother's fond distress
Its every art had tried,

*Author of "The Widow's Tale and other poems."

To shield, with sleepless tenderness,
The weak one at her side.
Round it, all night, she gathered warm
Her woolly limbs-her head
Close curved across its feeble form;
Day dawned, and it was dead.
She saw it dead :-she felt, she knew
It had no strength, no breath-
Yet, how could she conceive, poor ewe!
The mystery of death?

It lay before her stiff and cold—
Yet fondly she essayed
To cherish it in love's warm fold:
Then restless trial made,
Moving, with still reverted face,
And low, complaining bleat,
To entice from their damp resting place
Those little stiffening feet.

All would not do, when all was tried:
Love's last fond lure was vain:

So, quietly by its dead side,

She laid her down again.


The White Bear. PERCIVAL.

THE white bear of Greenland and Spitzbergen is considerably larger than the brown bear of Europe or the black bear of North America. This animal lives upon fish and seals, and is seen not only upon land in the countries bordering on the North Pole, but often upon floats of ice several leagues at sea. The following relation is extracted from the Journal of a Voyage for making discoveries towards the North Pole."

Early in the morning, the man at the mast-head gave notice that three bears were making their way very fast over the ice, and that they were directing their course towards the ship. They had, without question, been invited by the scent of the blubber of a sea-horse, killed a few days before, which the men had set on fire, and which was burning on the ice at the time of their approach.


They proved to be a she-bear and her two cubs; but the cubs were nearly as large as the dam. They ran eagerly to the fire, and drew out from the flames part of the flesh of the sea-horse that remained unconsumed, and ate it voraciously. The crew from the ship threw great lumps of the flesh of the sea-horse, which they had still left, upon the Ice. These the old bear carried away singly; laid every lump before her cubs as she brought it, and dividing it, gave each a share, reserving but a small portion to herself. As she was taking away the last piece, they levelled their muskets at the cubs, and shot them both dead; and in her retreat, they wounded the dam, but not mortally.

It would have drawn tears of pity from any but unfeeling minds to mark the affectionate concern expressed by this poor beast, in the last moments of her expiring young. Though she was sorely wounded, and could but just crawl to the place where they lay, she carried the lump of flesh which she had fetched away, and placed it before them. Seeing that they refused to eat, she laid her paws first upon one and then upon the other, and endeavoured to raise them up. It was pitiful to hear her moan. When she found she could not stir them, she went off; and, stopping when she had gotten to some distance, she looked back and moaned. When she found that she could not entice them away, she returned, and smelling around them, began to lick their wounds. She went off a second time as before: and having crawled a few paces, looked again behind her, and for some time stood moaning. But still her cubs not rising to follow her, she returned to them again, and, with signs of inexpressible fondness, went round one and round the pawing them and moaning. Finding at last that they were cold and lifeless, she raised her head towards the ship and growled at the murderers, who then shot her with a volley of musket balls. She fell between her cubs and died licking their wounds.


The miseries of war.--ROBERT HALL.

THOUGH the whole race of man is doomed to dissolution, and we are all hastening to our long home; yet at each suc

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