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“ It was evident that those who were cured by such a their rules of conduct ; and we should be sorry to think, spell must have been indebted to nature, with some as that in a country like Scotland, encouragement should sistance, perhaps, from imagination. But the users of not be given to an attempt to discuss, from time to time, such charms were not always so lucky as to light upon with a philosophical and sound religious feeling, much the person who drew them up; and many unfortunate that relates to interests beyond the amusements and con. creatures were executed, as the poor ale-wife would have cerns of a passing day. Why should the times of the been, had she not lighted upon her former customer in Spectator” and “ Rambler” be gone for ever ? the character of her Judge."-Vol. II. p. 115–20. Without farther preface or apology, we proceed to say

a few words of the work whose title we have copied above. The work is very handsomely printed in duodecimo, It is published in Aberdeen, and is there generally uneach volume containing about three hundred and twenty derstood to proceed from the pen of a neighbouring landpages, and two spirited engravings by Lizars.

ed proprietor. Aberdeen is now a large, elegant, and increasing city. Improvements with stone and lime are going on in all directions, and many more are contemplated ; and we hope also, in the course of our labours,

to give good proofs that the inhabitants are not forgetNotes on Religious, Moral, and Metaphysical Subjects. ting the cultivation of their minds, amid the polishing of Aberdeen. William Gordon. 1828. Pp. 274. their granile; and that, whether connected with its uni

versities or not, its townsmen and alumni are not un. We were well aware, that in proposing to admit oc- worthy of the ancient reputation which has so long been casionally into the “ Literary Journal” discussions of maintained by the capital of the Don and the Dee. religious subjects, ideas might in consequence suggest The author of the book before us, having abandoned themselves to the minds of some of our readers, not of the busy scenes of life, the " endless round of counting a nature calculated to increase their favourable anticipa- and computing," appears now to be viewing them at a tions of our work. Controversy, especially regarding distance with the eye of a philosopher, “indulging in a any of those matters which have of late so disagreeably generous misanthropy," and casting " a moralising eye, occupied the attention of the religious world, might be more in sorrow than in anger, over the moving mass of expected necessarily to form an essential part of the dis. folly, vanity, and vice," which constitutes the great world cussions to which we alluded ; and thus, instead of all now at a distance. “ The inquiry," he says, “ was un. the charms of literature, a considerable part of our pages, dertaken solely for private information, to satisfy priit might be concluded, would be devoted to the Apocry- vate scruples, and to compose the mind to rest

on some pha, and written in the spirit

of “ Anglicanus” and the more consolatory pillow than a glorious hope (as Plato has * Christian Instructor. Our excellent and talented it) beyond the grave." In pursuit of this object, he profriend Mr Hogg, in particular, seems to have been terri. ceeds to take a view of the opinions entertained on reli. fied at the annunciation ; but his sentiments and ours gious subjects by the sages of Greece and Rome, giving upon this subject are in perfect unison. We have high- a good abstract of their different theories. He then comes er and more sacred views of the manner in which reli- to Christianity, and finds evidence of its truth in the gious topics should be discussed, than to think of de agreement of its precepts with those which he had prescending to mere polemics. Religion and polemics are, viously examined. He next replies to the objection, that at present, terms too easily convertible ; and it would be if they are so similar, what necessity was there for reveas unwise for ourselves, as it would be worse than un-lation ? This he does so far well; but he might, perprofitable for our readers, to lend the slightest counte- haps, have taken higher ground, or at any rate pushed dance to an evil which we are anxious to see repressed. his conclusions somewhat farther. After ascertaining,

Our design in making the intimation contained in our from its various evidences, the authority of revealed reProspectus, was founded on the consideration, that peligion, he should have proceeded to consider its nature riodical works of the class to which our Journal belongs, and great leading objects. He would then have percei. had confined themselves rather too exclusively to sub- ved more satisfactorily its beautiful and comprehensive jeets of Belles Lettres, and had not given encouragement reference to this world of sin, vanity, and death_its io such as might have been made as interesting, as they glorious announcement of a mode of reconciliation with unquestionably are at least as important. Our wish the Creator of all things, and of life and immortality, was to endeavour occasionally to give a better direction He would thus, too, have discovered that the sages into the desire at present existing for literary knowledge ; ferred their duties after a long process of reasoning, and instead of confining its gratification to those works while the Apostles instantly deduced theirs from a docwhich excite attention from local or temporal associa- trine; and both agree, merely because both are true tions, to mingle amusement with instruction-instruc- both proceeding from the fountain of truth. This would tion with knowledge, and knowledge with its highest aim have been taking the just and full view of revelation ; and end-religion. Nor is there any thing incongruous and in consistency with it, our author would have had, in this design ; on the contrary, we conceive that a right perhaps, a heightened pleasure at finding the moral discussion of such graver matters will, by giving strength truths of Christianity corresponding so exactly with his to the mind, and purity to the taste, at once fit ourselves own opinions, and with those of so many wise and good for doing more justice to less momentous subjects, and men. at the same time, by the introduction of a wider and There is only one doctrine, in so far as we observer, more varied range of topics, enable our readers to enter upon which the author is at variance with what is geneupon each with a keener relish. And surely religion rally thought to be the truth of the Bible. He calls in embraces many subjects, in which all men ate so agreed, question the eternity of punishments, and brings forward and which are so intimately connected with the pursuits a variety of arguments to prove that he is in the right. and wishes of every individual, that they may be consi. Upon this subject we will not enter ; but we may be perdered, in a work like this, not only without prejudice to mitted to suggest the propriety of considering it with its other departments, and without any manifestation of that humility and self-diffidence which our ignorance of a spirit of controversy, but with the soundest propriety, the divine nature, plans, and proceedings, renders so neand the approbation of all reflecting persons. There are cessary. Punishment of some sort or other, we are asmany who will no longer be pleased with rattles, and sured, will be awarded to the wicked ; and it more be.

tickled with straws.” If they are to have literary papers comes us to spend our lives in endeavouring to guard at all, they must have those which exert some salutary against deserving it, than in useless arguments as to its influence upon their minds, and may tend to strengthen probable duration.

Having stated these things, we have no hesitation to add, that the book of which we have been speaking is “ The Reception due to the Word of God;" a Sermor ably and classically written, and thüt every page of it preached before the Society in Scotland for propaga. proclaims the author an amiable man. As a specimen at ting Christian Knowledge. By the Rev. James Henonce of his piety and his talents, and of his successful derson, minister of Ratho. Waugh and Innes, Edin. mode of treating a subject, we make the following ex- burgh, 1828. tract:

" He that searches this subject dispassionately, will SINGLE sermons, and pamphlets in general, can discover that the authenticity of the sacred writings has scarcely be considered as legitimate subjects of criticism; been examined again and again, with the utmost dili- for it is always difficult, and sometimes impossible, from gence, and found to res', I apprehend, on evidence supe- such scanty materials, to form a just estimate of the au. rior to that which supports the credibility of any ancient thor's general talents. Some exceptions must, however, volume. The characters of the sacred witnesses have be made,-as when the subject discussed is of much im. been sifted with the most searching scrutiny ; they have portance, or when the occasion which suggested it is in. been weighed in the balance, and have not been found teresting, or when the author has displayed considerable wanting in any particular. Nor can it remain a ques. ingenuity in illustrating it. Some or all of these reasons tion, that if we are to disregard such evidence, we must must be our apology for noticing the present publication. apply a sponge to all historical record. The misfortune This sermon was preached before the Society for propais, we measure the evidence not by its own strength, but gating Christian Knowledge, at their anniversary meetby the importance of the intelligence it supports ; yet the ing in June last. · Its subject, viz. the reception due to evidence is what it is, sufficient or insufficient, be the the word of God, is happily chosen ; and had the author information what it may. It is of very little consequence confined himself somewhat more strictly to this his proto me to know that the hero of Cannæ was crushed at fessed subject, we should probably have felt ourselves Zama, and found refuge at last in a dose of poison—that more at liberty to praise his discourse. Instead, however, the conqueror of Asia was driven before the legions of of giving us its evidences, Mr Henderson has dwelt prin. Cæsar at Pharsalia, and was thrown a headless trunk on cipally upon the mode of receiving God's word, and the the shores of Egypt ;-these are but the shifting scenes manner of the Spirit's efficacious working. And here we in the tragedy of conquest and ambition. That Socrates are sorry to find the reverend author falling into what we perished through the injustice of the Athenians,—that think a very great error ; for his principal object through. Seneca fell under the cruelty of Nero,—that the Father out the discourse seems to be, to depreciate the external of his country was butchered on a litter by the man whom evidences, or perhaps we should rather say, to exaggehe had saved :—these are but images of the atrocity, and rate the force of the internal evidences, of religion. He tyranny, and ingratitude of man, which are ever passing grants, indeed, that a knowledge of the external evidence before the magic-lantern of life ; and these I can believe is useful, but rather as furnishing us with a weapon without scruple on the word of a Roman historian, or wherewith to combat the avowed enemies of Christianity, the testimony of a Greek sage. But that Jesus of Na- than for our own private satisfaction. He seems unwill. zareth delivered to us the commands of our God, that ing to admit, nay, if we understand him rightly, he pohe suffered ignominiously on a cross the pains of sitively denies, that the Spirit ever converts an unbeliever our transgressions,—that by stooping to death he con- by means of the external evidences. Now, this appears quered death,' rising from the dead and bringing life to us an erroneous and a dangerous doctrine. We beand immortality. to light by his resurrection, that he lieve that the external evidences do of themselves furnish was thereafter seen, touched, heard, and handled, satis- a very sufficient ground for belief in the truth of Christfying all misgivings,—that he lives to intercede for us ianity, and that they may be, and in fact often are, the now, and will in mercy judge us hereafter ;—these are means of conversion, through the divine energy of the truths which lie out so far in the distance beyond all Spirit. It even appears to us very evident, that all other sublunary occupations, which reach so far into infinity means of receiving God's word save through its external above all earthly cogitations, that we lose the evidence evidences, are not a little unsafe and unsatisfactory. of the fact in the immensity of the subject; we look to Christian faith is not the slave of reason ; but far be the thing asserted, not to the proof given, which is posi- from us the creed that contradicts reason. There is no. tively stronger for any one of these positions than for any thing unreasonable in our religion,--and it is just beof the historical events we have noticed.”

cause it is consistent with reason's noblest dictates, that In conclusion we beg to remark, that here is a work Christianity has ever had a triumphant answer to the ar. written by one who possesses many of those requisites guments of the infidel. After all, it must depend upon which enable him to give a sound opinion upon the subject circumstances to which species of evidence an individual to which it relates,-a sincere desire to know the truth, will, in his own particular case, attach most importance. leisure, ability, and considerable learning; who is, more. We will hope, that as God has been pleased to establish over, swayed by no professional or other motives to make his word upon the double foundation of external and in. his testimony suspected, and whose conviction is often, ternal evidence, he will bless either indifferently for our and warmly, and unaffectedly recorded of the truth of the salvation. Gospel. There are not wanting still more illustrious in. Having thus pointedly expressed a difference of opi. stances of a similar kind ; but this is a recent and obvi. nion with the author upon a very important subject, we ous one, and surely might well dispose sceptics to suspect must now do him the justice to confess, that we were much that an impartial and candid examination of the Scrip- struck with some of his reasonings and illustrations. We tures, such as our author's has been, might lead them, as are greatly tempted to extract a passage or two, towards it has done bim, to an honest and sincere conviction of the end of the discourse, of singular beauty and elotheir truth. “ Turn and twist the question as we will,” | quence; but Mr Henderson is already too well known say the “ Notes," " there is no way of giving the go-by to the public, as an interesting and a popular preacher, to the eviderices of our holy faith, but by some desperate to make this necessary; and his sermon, we doubt not, plunge, in default of all argument. And I wish to God, will be extensively read and admired. that every man who meditates the leap would but well The “ Society for propagating Christian Knowledge,” consider whither it may carry him.

before which this sermon was preached, and for whose

benefit it has been printed, is both worthy of public sup• Deep in the rubbish of the general wreck.'" port, and deserving of public gratitude. By confining

its labours to the less enlightened districts of our own We recommend this work to the attention of our readers. country, it is distinguised as a patriotic institution ;

THE DEATH OF ALICE BLAND.

while its unquestionable usefulness places it at the head sels in which mine had embarked, but to which you, of those societies, which propose for their object the dif- Austin, fortunately no longer belonged, stood away for fusion of education and religious knowledge.

the waters of St Lawrence; and for three years I was condemned to vegetate in a remote fortress in the forests of Canada. There I received intelligence that I was

motherless—that Alice, just rising into womanly beauty, MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. and despoiled of her little patrimony by legal chicane,

stood alone in the wide world-and, saddest of all, that merciless consumption—the disease that had bent down

the parent stem-threatened also to lop away the tender By the author of " Tales of a Pilgrim.” scion that had flourished under its shade. I could bear Ah! if in after years

expatriation no longer. In less than a month after the The tale that I am dead shall touch thy heart,

receipt of this information, I was on my way across the Did not the pain depart;

Atlantic to give her succour.
But shed over my grave a few sad tears.
BARRY CORNWALL.

Alice had dated her last letter from the Isle of Wight,

whither she had been carried, after her mother's death, Austix, I am domiciled once more under your roof by an amiable lady, who, commiserating her forlorn -I have my appointed chair at your hospitable board situation, and won upon by her many rare and endear-and I walk at eventide in the shade of the ancestral | ing qualities, had generously resolved, that a creature so træes that embower your mansion. Your Laura, ma. formed to be loved should not be left to die without an tronized in her beauty, hails me every morning with her effort being made to save her. Need I say, therefore, benignant smiles ; and your two fair children daily dis. that to my homeward-turned eyes the white headlands port in innocent gaiety around my knees. You ask me of that island were objects of intense interest, or that I what has become of that sister of whom I used to spenk availed myself of the first opportunity to debark? I so often, when we were sojourners in the American wild question much whether the certainty of irremediable derness—her whom I was wont to regard as the only woe is so harassing to the heart, as the apprehension of star that beckoned me back to my native country. The impending evil—that “ hope that keeps alive despair." subject is a sad one ; but to you, faithfullest of friends, I entertained a presentiment that I should find Alice on I can refuse nothing. Pardon me, if you find my pen her bier ; and 'my trembling lips could scarcely give dsell too long on a few simple incidents. Some allow. utterance to the inquiries necessary to acquaint me with

ance may surely be made for the prolixity of chastened the place of her residence. I found it vacant, and there grief.

was a temporary relief even in that vacancy. Unaware Alice was my only sister the sole survivor of all my of my movements, and sanguine that a change of scene kindred ; and it was therefore no marvel that I felt deep- would contribute to her restoration to health, her proly distressed when intelligence of her illness reached me tectress had resolved on trying the effect of the air of in a distant land. Nearly ten years had elapsed since our France. They had been gone barely a fortnight, and I separation. She was then a fair-haired, bright-eyed child, determined to follow them without delay. I had busi. in her seventh year-I a heedless and, perhaps, some- ness of some consequence, regarding our small patri. what headstrong youth, fifteen years her senior-and fe- mony, to transact in England ; but I was contented verishly eager to exchange my quiet home for the tented that it should remain undone till I had indulged the field. I soon forgot, amid the turmoil of war, the so- bent of fraternal affection, and tried whether a brother's lemn farewell of our widowed mother : but I never lost presence could not re-invigorate my poor Alice's sinking remembrance of the tearful eyes and last gentle embrace frame. of the darling of our household hearth.

Avranches, a small town in the south-western corner Five years afterwards, my brother followed me to the of Normandy, was the place where they intended to rearmy. You may remember, Austin, that it was soon side. The most expeditious way for me to reach it was after we had driven the French beyond the Ebro, that to embark in one of the packets plying between Southhe joined our banner_as brave and generous-hearted a ampton and Jersey, and from that island run across in youth as Britain ever seat forth to fight her battles. Be a French market-boat to Granville. In accordance with fore the expiration of a month, you saw him stricken this plan, I boarded the first vessel that passed through down lifeless at my side. Green, for ever green be the the Solent for St Helier ; and ere the sun went down Navarrese valley in which his young bones moulder ! A beyond the waves we were ploughing, the English shore brother's hand wiped the last drops of agony from his was barely visible on the northern horizon.

blood-dewed brow-a brother's glance alone could now Our voyage was tedious, and it was the morning of discover his stoneless grave.

the third day before we came in sight of Jersey, and The Spanish war terminated triumphantly for our doubled the perilous Corbiere. The wind blew stifly country. Thin as reeds, and dusky as Moors, from five from the south-east, and we made the bay of St Aubin years' exposure to a burning sun_honoured, too, with with some difficulty. On landing at St Helier, I made some memorials of our services, we looked forward, Aus- immediate inquiry for a vessel to carry me to Granville ; tin, with pride and joy to the day that should restore us but though several barks belonging to that port lay to our kindred. In the very midst of these anticipations moored in the harbour, and groups of Norman market-at the very moment when we heard the shouts of thou. girls, with their plaited petticoats and picturesque coifs, sands of our home-returning soldiers, sweeping over the were lingering on the quay anxious to depart, none of blue-waved Garonne, the vision of peace departed. Our the skippers would undertake to put to sea, until the regiment was ordered to America ; and at such a junc- wind should chop about into a favourable quarter. Cone ture we could not with honour forsake its standard. vinced, by their representations, that delay was abso.

We saw blood shed in the west as the shores of the lutely requisite, I tried to curb my impatience; and, to Potomac and Mississippi testified ;—and there we buried beguile the interval, set off on a ramble to the eastern thany of the bravest of our band men who had survi. side of the island.

ved no less than five victorious campaigns against the It was the middle of September. The harvest had chivalry of France, and who deserved a prouder fate been some time reaped, and the orchards, for which Jer. than to be struck down in the wilderness by Yankee bul sey is so famed, resounded with the jocund laugh of the lets. Dreams of home again took possession of us when young villagers, employed in gathering the abundant that war ended; but for me they were as shortlived as produce. I wandered as far as Mont Orgueil, and from before. While other corps sailed homewards, the ves- the ramparts of that ancient fortress, spent an hour in

gazing on the French coast, which is visible almost from midnight

cogitations, preparing to embark in the same Cape de la Hogue to Mont St Michel. The rock-strewn vessel. The younger one looked even more pale and channel that intervenes, was covered with breakers, and drooping than when I had seen her on the previous even. I saw that the French boatmen had sound reasons for ing. They had been roused at what was for an invalid declining to put to sea in such adverse weather. I an unseasonable hour; and the morning breeze, as it thought of Alice—my dying Alice and wished for the swept in gusty puffs over the fortified height command. wings of a bird to bear me like an arrow across the ing the harbour, seemed to pierce through her delicate foamy strait.

frame, though closely enveloped in a fur-lined mantle. Near Mont Orgueil_half buried among leaves and I saluted them on the faith of our former introduction, blossoms is a humble village church the church of and they gratefully accepted of my assistance in embarkGranville. Groves of richly-foliaged trees embower it, ing. and in summer the smiling par sonage is literally cover- Le Curieux was a decked shallop of about twenty tons, ed with the fragrant parasitical plants that climb its miserably found in sails and cordage, and manned by walls, and wreath round even its highest lattices. I four of a crew-all Frenchmen-but only two of them paused at the white gate that opens into the small bury- able seamen. Vidal, the master, was a fine-looking ing.ground, and gazed listlessly at the head-stones that young fellow, with black eyes and florid cheeks, and a crowd it. The vicissitudes of my life passed in brief bright crimson-coloured handkerchief tied round his review before me. Here, after a combat of fifteen years sinewy neck. We got on board under the lee of Elizawith the world, I stood a solitary man. My whole beth Castle, and in a short time the anchor was weighyouth had been spent in exile-my knowledge of happi- ed, and we stood out to sea. The breeze was northerly, ness was limited to the suavity of a barrack-room, and consequently we easily weathered the labyrinth of subthe turmoil of a camp. The friends of my younger marine rocks that fence the south-eastern shore of the years_saving you, Austin—had departed. Some had island. The broken clouds that covered the firmament, fallen in battle by my side-some the yellow plague had and a long line of breakers about ten miles to the leesmitten in our canvass-homes—some had pined and died ward, occasioned by the surf beating on the perilous in captivity—and a few, a very few, had forgotten me in Minquais, presaged a boisterous royage. I looked with the sunshine of their paternal hearths. I had gained some alarm at my female charges, especially the youngsome distinction in my profession, but who was left to er, who could not be prevailed upon to take shelter in take pride in my honours ? No one, save Alice, and the horrid hole called a cabin,-but Vidal reassured me, she too was on the eve of being called away. My heart by asserting that if the wind held for six hours in a fa. grew sad even unto death.

vourable quarter, he would, at the end of that time, land I was roused from my moralizing mood by the sound us at Granville, of which a bluff promontory, visible on of wheels, and a small travelling car drove up to the the eastern horizon, indicated the site. The old lady soon gate at which I was stationed. It was occupied by two became sadly affected with the malady incidental to no. females._one a grave benevolent-looking matron--the vices at sea, but her companion, as is not unusual with other, one of those sylphid visions of feminine beauty, invalids, was not tormented by it. She sat down under the that linger on earth but for a brief season, and then pass shelter of the weather bulwark, and I exerted myself to away for ever into the grave. She was pale—very pale make her forget the discomfort of her situation by cheer. ---but it was the paleness of perfect loveliness--that ful converse. I experienced an undefinable happiness in purity of complexion, which belongs not to earth but to this employment. There was a sympathetic tie that heaven. The young eloquent blood was visible in every drew me insensibly towards the stranger, at once indevein that traversed her polished forehead; and there scribable and delicious. I had seen thousands of beauwas a gentle fire in her dark-blue eyes, and a smile of tiful eyes in my wanderings, and you, Austin, can bear innocent meekness on her lips, that might have become testimony that they shot not their glances at me always a seraph.

in vain ; but hers were eyes that spoke a language that The car was attended by a coarse-looking hind, and no others had ever spoken. She was eloquent, too, and politeness required me to assist the ladies to alight-for many of her remarks indicated the perfection of feminine such I perceived to be their intention. They frankly intelligence. “If I am doomed never to see Alice more, accepted of my services ; and when I learned that their thought I, “ here I have found her image.” object was to visit a grave in the cemetery, I further At noon, notwithstanding the prediction of Vidal, we took upon me to find it out. The task was not a diffi- had only accomplished something more than half our cult one, and the elder lady knelt down upon the green voyage, for the wind had been hourly falling off, point tumulus in silent prayer. I gathered that it was the after point. Chausey-a cluster of bare rocky islets in grave of a daughter who had been torn from a wide circle the mouth of the great bay of Mont St Michel was of friends, at the very moment when fortune shed its best behind us, and slowly but steadily we gained upon the blessings round her. The pale girl wept when she saw precipitous headland on which Granville is perched. her companion weep—wept, it may be, at the certainty An additional hour of favourable weather would have of her own approaching fate." If I die in the strange brought us safe into port, when suddenly the wind country we are going to," I heard her murmur, as I led chopped round due east, and blew directly adverse, with them back to their vehicle, “ let me be buried in this all the fury of an autumnal gale. The sea became a quiet spot; and my brother-when he returns" Her sheet of foam, furrowed by dark valleys, and our vessel, voice grew tremulous and indistinct. I reseated them barely sea-worthy, rode heavily through the waves. Still

, in their car, and they drove away.

with our destined port so near, we did not like to yield to For many succeeding hours the features of that pale the elements, and though only one of his crew stood by girl haunted me like an apparition. I saw her darkly our gallant captain, he kept her prow to the weather in fringed lustrous eyes perpetually fixed op me-my ear at least ten successive tacks. The invalid suffered much, recognised in every gentle sound the melody of her plain, for the deck was momentarily washed by the billows from tive voice. Even in the watches of the night, she fitted stem to stern. I saw her strength was waning rapidly, like a beatified vision around my couch. I was glad and entreated her to go below, and seek shelter beside when the morning came doubly glad, for it relieved her friend. She shook her head in token of dissent. me from uneasy dreams, and brought the master of a “ I shall suffocate there," was her answer ; "and since Granville boat, who announced that the wind was fair, I am to die under any circumstances, let my last breath and that he intended to put to sea. I hastened down be the pure air of heaven.” to the quay, and there, to my surprise, found the two At length our steersman saw that it was useless to strangers who had occupied so prominent a place in my contend with the head-wind that annoyed us. The helm

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was put about, and we stood away direct for Chausey, Until this was done, I made no disclosure of our conamong whose rocks Vidal expected to find shelter for the sanguinity to her kind protectress, who had been brought night-an adventure rarely attempted, but still our only ashore by Vidal and his sailors. Her congratulations I hope, seeing that we could not, with the smallest prospect pass over. She subsequently found that I was not unof safety, approach Jersey after sunset. I now tried to grateful. It is of Alice alone that I would speak. encourage my charge, by holding out a prospect of a We had some sea-stores on board the vessel, and part speedy termination to our disaster. “Before darkness of them, together with dry clothes for Alice, were landed. sets in,” said I,“ we shall be snugly moored among I dipped a rusk in wine, and put it to my sister's lips. yonder rocks ; and Vidal assures me that there is a hut It partially revived her, and I had at length the satisfacon them inhabited by a kelp-burner, where you can safe- tion of seeing her drop into a quiet sleep. Her friend ly pass the night.”

lay down beside her; and the crew of Le Curieux, and * I am grateful for your anxiety to quiet my appre- the kelp-burner's family, gathered round the fire of dried hensions,” said she; " but, in reality, I am not afraid fuci which had been kindled at my request, and endeaof the sea, whatever may be the construction you put on voured to beguile the hours with legends of the dangermy deportment. What does it signify, since God wills ous gulf in which we were isolated. I caught, occasion. that I am speedily to die, whether I perish in the waves, ally, a few sentences of these wild tales ; but what mat. or by the sure progress of disease ? It is here"-she tered it to me that the Livre Noir of Coutances told of laid her hand on her heart that I feel the monitor of a Seigneur de Hambye having slain a huge serpent in death. What a strange fate is mine an orphan girl - Jersey—or that the annals of the state prison of Mont St indebted to strangers for the kind offices that are so grate- Michel recorded a thousand and one tales of crime and ful to the sickly and the dying and destined, perhaps, death? I sat by my sister's couch, listening to her gentle to close my eyes on a rock amid these turbulent waves !" breathings, and watching the flight of the imperishable

“An orphan," said I, and I took her hand, and looked spirit that already hovered on her lips. steadily on her face" how deeply-how very deeply An hour before day-break Alice became restless, and these words affect me! I too am an orphan, but I am a her respiration irregular and obstructed. The fire had man, and can struggle bravely through the world, though died away, and a dim lamp, brought from the shallop, I have no paternal hearth. But I have a sister-young, alone lighted the cabane. All my fellow-voyagers were fair, and desolate as yourself-one who at this very mo- asleep, stretched on the bare earth ; and though I saw ment is perhaps gasping her last in the same insidious that the finger of death was already pointed at my sister, disease that makes you tremble, unconscious that her I felt it useless to disturb them. They could give no wandering brother is almost at her side.”

relief. She was passing placidly into eternity, and I “Happy girl," she rejoined, “how amply will she cared not that they should see my tears. Nevertheless, I be blessed if she only lives to lie down in death on your longed earnestly for the light of the morning, and, for a breast! My brother is far far distanta thousand leagues moment, went to the threshold to look for its first beam. beyond these foaming billows. He is joyous in his tent The storm had passed away, and the sun was just lifting by the rushing waters of Niagara—and joyous may his his broad disc above the Norman hills. I heard a deep brave heart be, long long after that of his poor Alice is sigh proceed from the cabane, and hastened back to my stilled for ever."

sister's side. Her hand returned not my pressure the “ Alice !” I ejaculated emotion stifling my words- lids of her eyes were half unclosed; but the spirit of life “ Powers of Mercy! is it possible? Tell me, gentle one, lighted no longer the orbs they shaded. I pressed my or I shall die tell me that brother's name."

lips to hers, but they were cold and breathless. Alice 4 Talbot Bland !"

was dead. I clasped her to my breast, and wept, as I exclaimed Austin, her story is told. From the shelterless rock “ Alice, dear Alice, Talbot Bland holds you to his on which she died 'í carried her remains to St Helier's; heart.”

and, in compliance with the wish I had heard her exThe joyful surprise was too much for her attenuated press when I knew not the deep interest I had in her exframe. She lay powerless in my arms, and a faint pulsa- istence she was buried at Granville. Soft lie the turf tion alone told that she was alive. At intervals she open- on her virgin breast ! ed her mild eyes, and gazed tenderly on my face; but when she tried to speak, her words died away in sighs. I saw, when it was too late to rectify my error, that my abrupt communication had had a fatal influence on her strength. How dear--how unutterably dear did I hold

« Timeo dona ferentes." her at that moment ! How gladly would I have bartered the rank and honours that years of perilous service had By the Author of the Historics of the Scottish Rebel

lions," the « Traditions of Edinburgh," 8c. won to have insured her life—nay, to have merely placed her on a comfortable couch, where her spirit might calm. THE Rev. Mr L-, minister of C-, in Lanarkly pass away!

shire, (who died within the present century,) was one of At the twilight we ran under the lee of Chausey, those unhappy persons, who, to use the words of a welland anchored in a little inlet. Alice was numbed in known Scottish adage, can never see green cheese but every joint by the spray that had drenched her, and her their een reels." He was extremely covetous, and that not articulation continued to be confined to indistinct mur-only of nice articles of food, but of many other things murs; but her looks expressed the depth of her sisterly which do not generally excite the cupidity of the human affection. I carried her ashore, through the surf, to the heart. The following story is in corroboration of this hovel in which we had been taught to look for shelter ; assertion. Being on a visit one day at the house of one but my heart sank in despair when I saw the miserable of his parishioners-a poor, lonely widow, living in a accommodation it afforded. was a rude hut, formed moorland part of the parish-Mr L became fasciof planks, and almost destitute of furniture ; for the fa- nated by the charms of a little cast-iron pot, which hapmily that inhabited it only made it their abode during pened at the time to be lying on the hearth, full of po. the summer half of the year, and were contented with tatoes for the poor woman's dinner, and that of her chil. the simplest conveniences. They were hospitable, how dren. He had never in his life seen such a nice little ever as all French peasants are—and readily gave us pot. It was a perfect conceit of a thing. It was a gem. the shelter we solicited. Situated as we had lately been, No pot on earth could match it in symmetry. It was I felt thankful to see my dying Alice laid upon a pal- an object altogether perfectly lovely. “ Dear sake! letno matter how humble.

minister,' said the widow, quite overpowered by the re

THE UNLUCKY PRESENT.

AN ANECDOTE.

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