deed, to hold up as a shield between me and heaven's justice!" In this strain he continued for some minutes, alternately accusing and palliating his conduct. “Kildinning,” said the minister, when he ceased, "my soul grieves for you; if I spoke at first in seeming harshness, it was only to arouse your conscience to its work. There must be smiting before healing— but, God forbid !-thy Judge and mine, Kildinning, forbid that I should stand here to triumph over and tread down a fellow sinner!—there is yet hope, my lord!" So saying, he took the dying man by the hand, and preached unto him the "Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world." But the numbing influence of death made rapid inroads on the listener. He urged his faculties to the task of attention, but they failed more and more; there was the will, but not the power, to comprehend; spiritual anxiety struggled with spiritual ignorance; his soul gasped to receive the words of hope pronouncing in his ear, just as the burning sand drinks in the falling shower; but his mind was on the wane, and he complained that shapes and sounds of former days flitted before his sight; and that a spectre stood beside him, mingling the words of the gospel with scoffs and curses. Hamilton felt the moments freighted with eternity, and sunk on his knees the agony of supplication was in his prayer. An occasional groan was all that betrayed the consciousness of him for whom it was uttered; and, at last, even that ceased. The supplicator sprang to his feet, and looked earnestly on the baron-his breathing was interrupted-there was a haze gathering over his eyes-the death-damp on his brow. Hamilton stooped his mouth to the ear of the departing, and said in a loud voice, “Jesus Christ can save you now, my lord; say, do you trust in him?” There was a moving of the lips in reply, but no sound issued from them. Hamilton repeated his words more emphatically, "Jesus Christ can save you now, my lord; raise your hand in token of belief." The hand stirred, but whether in dissent or acquiescence was dubious. Hamilton repeated his words yet a third time, but no gesture followed-life's last spark was extinct— the dying man was dead! THE GENTLE STUDENT.* BEND, gentle student, o'er the page, For there will come another time, When hope will need a faith sublime, * Vide the Frontispiece. Bend o'er the leaf thy graceful brow, A sun amid our earthly gloom, That sets to rise beyond the tomb! L. E. L. NOTICES OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS. BY THE LATE EDWARD WALSH, M. D., PHYSICIAN TO HIS MAJESTY'S FORCES. THE disappearance and extinction of an entire and peculiar race of people cannot fail to be a subject of curiosity and interest. It is true, the history of the human race has made us abundantly acquainted with its vicissitudes and fate; but there are no people of the old world, whose ancient state and condition have passed away, that have not left some traces of feature, colour, manners, or language, that may be observed or studied in the inhabitants of those countries at this day. Some nations have not changed at all:-the Tartars, Arabs, and Hindoos are the identical race that existed two thousand years ago. The Jews have lost their country, but not their character and identity; |