tith cauld"-" Bonny was yon rosy brier”—“ A Peace, enjoyment, love and pleasure! which, for pure and felicitous moral sentiment, and scenic description, such as only Burns could have given, is worthy of being oftener noticed. In a neglected song called "The Posy," among many fine stanzas is this exquisite one The hawthorn I will pu', But the songster's nest within the bush admired became exalted above humanity by the prerogatives of his passion and his genius; and her nominal rank in life had no power over those precious immunities. But if Burns' songs want the tone of chivalry, the same fault may be found with the finest writers of love-verses in the language. Surrey-for the authenticity of whose passion it would not be very safe to swear-is indeed very doleful; but the love-strains of Sydney show no puling sentiment nor sophisticated feeling of any kind. If they want the beauty and tenderness of the love-songs of Burns, they equal them in nature and in warmth. This is their praise. The love-verses of Herrick, Carew, Ben Jonson, I have said, that so rich was the ore of the vein Shakspeare, and Suckling, have nothing of this of Burns, that it often breaks forth where it could "tone of chivalry." Those of Lovelace have an least be expected. Among his neglected songs is exquisite delicacy and sweetness peculiar to them-a ditty called "Bessy and her Spinning-wheel," selves; but their sentiment is as natural as it is refined. It is not easy to tell where we are to look for the tone of chivalry in love-songs, unless in such inditings as those of Harrington-" To a most stony-hearted maiden, who did most cruelly use the knight, my good friend;" or, "To the Lady Isabella when I first saw her look forth of a window at Court, and thought her beautiful;" or, "To the divine Saccharissa." The love of Burns was neither that of a knight-errant nor a sylph. It could neither subsist on sighs nor essences; but it was composed of those feelings which have imparted delicacy and elegance to the untutored strains of the rude Laplander and the Russ. Who shall say its effusions want refinement? Burns was undoubtedly impatient of suing seven years for a smile; for he possessed the sympathetic art of winning "the dear angel-smile" with wondrous facility. Instead of catching the descending tear on a cushion of rose-leaves, or preserving it in " urn of emerald," or crystallizing "the pearly treasure," he gathered it, as it trembled on the eyelash, with his own glowing lip, and devoutly drunk in it, a new essence of being. Thus, if his verses want the character of chivalrous gallantry, they possess something far better in that purified natural tenderness, of which gallantry is at best but the substitute or the counterfeit. His notions of the female character appear throughout quite Shaksperian: his women are all gentleness, and softness, and tenderness. The idea of a lofty, predominating, high-souled, and capricious beauty, such as is pictured in the old romances-ennobling to female character in a general view, yet a most chilling and repulsive individuality-never appears to have entered his imagination. The utmost extent of his belief in female cruelty is, that A thought ungentle canna be an The poems of Burns are so generally diffused, And it's a' to make a posy to my ain dear May. In the song called "The Auld Man," the first stanza, describing the return of Spring, is no way remarkable; the second is strikingly fine and pathetic But my white pow, nae kindly thowe My trunk of eild, but buss or bield, Oh! age has weary days, And nights o' sleepless pain! There is another song called "The Waefu' Heart," little noticed, though it must be admired by every mind of feeling, which has this exclama. tion breathed by bereaved affection and pious resignation— This waefu' heart lies low with his In a few rather trivial verses, in which Burns is speaking of his filial regard for Scotland in his boyhood, is this fine incidental burst of nationality The rough bur-thistle spreading wide I turn'd my weeding hook aside, that copious specimens are the less necessary. There is no doubt that this stanza records a real "The Cottar's Saturday Night"-part of "The Vision”—“ The Twa Dogs" the "Address to the De'il"—" Tam o' Shanter"-two-thirds of the songs, and especially "Highland Mary"-" Poor fact; and that the young enthusiastic husbandman may have spared the noxious weed for the sake of the cherished sentiment,-Johnstone's Specimens of the Poets." ON THE CHURCH OF KRISUVIK IN ICELAND. Though gilded domes, and splendid fanes. And altars richly drest, And sculptur'd saints, and sparkling gems, Inspire with awe the breast; The soul enlarged-devout-sincere, The holy House of God, Scarce higher than the peasant's shed, 'Tis not the pageantry of show, Then why th' Icelandic Church disdain, As though God dwelt not there? The contrite heart-the pious mind- There breathes his hopes-there plights his vows-- And to his God appeals. Oh! scorn it not because 'tis poor, Let no presumptuous thoughts arise, Than poor Icelandic swain ; Who bravely meets the northern wind, Where much is given-more is required; Enjoy thy happier lot With trembling awe, and chasten'd fear; And will not be forgot. FAREWELL TO FIFE. Adieu to thee, delightful land! Ages have o'er thee past, And round each mould'ring tower of thine, I've lov'd thee with the love of one, And through thy verdant vales my feet, But now we part, and it may be, That years shall wing their flight, Then fare thee well! in other days, On Fancy's wing I'll turn to thee, ANON. MILITARY FLOGGING." The offender is sometimes sentenced to receive a thousand lashes; a surgeon stands by to feel his pulse during the execution, and determine how long the flogging can be continued without killing him. When human nature can sustain no more, he is remanded to prison; his wound-for from the shoulder to the loins it leaves him one wound-is dressed; and as soon as it is sufficiently healed to be laid open again in the same manner, he is brought out to undergo the remainder of his sentence. And this is repeatedly and openly practised in a country, where they read in their churches, and in their houses that Bible, which saith," Forty stripes may the judge inflict upon the offender and not exceed." We recommend this to conservative legislators-it is the opinion of Dr. Southey. ADVANTAGES OF FREE TRADE. A change has lately been made for the better in the American Tariff. Our government has met this relaxation, and step on the right side, by a corresponding relaxation, which must ultimately benefit every body; and in the first place the distressed manufacturers of coarse woollen goods in the counties of York, Lancashire, Cumberland, &c., &c., to whose condition we adverted last week. We dare not tell what those wise changes are, because this is an unstamped publication; and to do so would be news; but pat to the occasion we quote Franklin, whose sayings ought to be no news, and then look back to the history of American restrictions. "Suppose," says Franklin, "a country, X, with three manufactures, as cloth, silk, and iron, supplying three other countries, A, B, C, but desirous of increasing the vent, and raising the price of cloth in favour of her own clothiers. In order to this she forbids the importation of foreign cloth from A. A, in return, forbids silks from X. Then the silk workers complain of a decay of trade. And X, to content them, forbids silks from B. B in return forbids iron ware from X. Then the iron workers complain of decay. And X forbids the importation of iron from C. C in return forbids cloth from X. What is got by all these prohibitions? ANSWER.-All four find their common stock of the enjoyments and conveniences of life diminished." The So intimately has commerce connected nations, that the repeal of a duty across the Atlantic is as sensible an advantage to us as the repeal of a tax in our own country. taxes on each side of the Atlantic go into different treasuries, but both press alike on the same people-on the community of industrious producers on both sides of the water, whose wealth ought to consist in the unrestricted exchange of each other's commodities. We tax American produce and the American farmer cannot purchase English clothing; the Americans tax our manufactures, and the English weaver cannot buy food. The Americans reap a harvest of heartburnings and contention; the English a standing army, a crippled revenue, famine, muttered rebellion, and poor rates. The American restrictive duties were imposed originally as a measure of self-protection. The measure was not a wise one, but it was a natural one. Before the separation of the two countries, our commerce with our colonies was esteemed more valuable than that with all the world besides. After the separation, the Americans desired that the intercourse should continue on the old terms. Jefferson was sent over to negociate a treaty to that effect. He failed. George the Third had conceived the idea, that, by shutting up all intercourse with the colonies, he could produce such a state of distress as would compel them to submit to his own terms. Henceforward the two countries treated each other as foreign states. Restrictions multiplied. We prohibited their spirits, their wood, their sugar, their corn. Then tobacco, and cotton, and potashes were taxed to the utmost, and nothing but absolute famine would make us admit even of a few barrels of their flour. They retaliated; and finally to put a stop to the drain of silver and gold, which our refusal to take their goods for ours occasioned, and to encourage their own manufactures, they passed the famous Tariff, imposing prohibitory duties on the importation of any goods they could manufacture themselves. The relaxation of this tariff is the consequence of the dif fusion throughout the world of commercial knowledge, and of the liberal aspect which the policy of Great Britain has latterly assumed. It must be met, on our side, in a similar spirit. And it will be so met. Both Englishmen and Americans are now too wise to be persuaded by factious knaves and brawling fools, that there is either safety or prosperity in setting at defiance the first law of social exis tence, which teaches men to enjoy all the comforts of life, by the reciprocal exchange of each other's superfluities. NOTES OF THE MONTH. SEPTEMBER. Their sickles hang. Around their simple fare, The gleaners wandering with the morning ray, ENJOYMENTS OF THE POOR. THIS month was called Gerst-monath by our Saxon ancestors, from a kind of barley which was reaped during it, from which beer was made, from which sort of beer is derived beerlegh, barley. It is called September, from being the seventh month of the Roman year. It is the harvest month of Scotland, on the average of years, and the vintage of England; cider and perry being now manufactured in all the orchard counties. It is the season of picLET no one say this is not a season of happinics and nutting excursions, which should go hand ness to the toiling peasantry; I know that it is. in hand. Saffron is now gathered-a production In the days of boyhood I have partaken of their never raised in our country, though golden fields harvest labours, and listened to the overflowing of of it may still be seen near Saffron Walden, in their hearts, as they sate amid the sheaves beneath Essex, and on towards Cambridge. The forest the fine blue sky, or among the rich herbage of trees are now taking the rich and varied hues of some green headland, beneath the shade of a tree, autumn; and in the pleasant rustling winds for while the cool keg plentifully replenished the which this month is distinguished, wherever nipt horn; and sweet, after exertion, were the contents by early evening frosts, they begin to shed their of the basket. I know that the poor harvesters leaves. In the meadows, and among old pastures, are amongst the most thankful contemplators of one may now frequently encounter the mushroom- the bounty of Providence, though so little of it gatherer, and children collecting beech mast, or falls to their share. To them harvest comes as an acorns for the nurseryman; bramble berries are annual festivity. To their healthful frames the fast ripening on the banks and by the wayside, heat of the open fields, which would oppress the and nuts in the copses. The deep orange berries languid and relaxed, is but an exhilarating and of the mountain ash, and the hips and haws are pleasant glow. The inspiration of the clear sky glowing in every hedge. In the vale of Clyde, above, and of the scenes of plenty around them; and and wherever there are orchards, fruit is gather- the very circumstance of their being drawn at this ed, sorted, and stored. The swallow now again bright season from their homes, opens their hearts, knows her time," and begins in earnest to take and gives a life to their memories,-Howitt. leave of us, till Spring returns. The rural dainties An interesting feature of our Scottish harvest of fruit and honey are daily arriving from the is the annual migration and return of the Highcountry to our markets at their best. But reap-landers, and latterly of the poor Irish, who, at this ing is still the grand concern. "The farmer,' season, pour out upon the Lothians like locusts. says William Howitt, "is in the field, like a rural Fewer have appeared this year than usual, from king among his people." The labourer old and alarm of cholera. young is there; the dame has left her wheel and her shady cottage, and with sleeve-defended arms, scorns to be behind the best of them; the blooming damsel is there, adding her sunny beauty to that of universal nature; the boy cuts down the stalks which overtop his head; children glean among the shocks, and even the infant sits, propt with sheaves, and plays with the stubble, and "with all its twined flowers."-The reaping-hook is almost the only implement which has descended from the olden time in its pristine simplicity. It is the same now as it was in those scenes of rural beauty which the Scripture history, without any laboured description, often by a single stroke, presents so livingly to the imagination; as it was when tender thoughts passed Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; when the minstrel-king wandered through the solitudes of Paran, and the fields reposing at the feet of Carmel; or, "as it fell on a day that the child of the Shunamite went out to his father, to the reapers." Let us look on the September reapers in another light,-presented to us by Grahame :At sultry hour of noon, the reaper-band Rest from their toil, and in the lusty stook THE HIGHLAND REAPER'S SONG. As it came softened up the hill, 延 Sir Walter Scott. THE HARVEST-MOON. "Two peculiarities of the moon, which occasion a good deal of speculation among those who are ignorant of the causes, are, "the harvest-moon" in September, and "the hunters' moon "in March; the former of which, when near the full, rises for several nights at nearly the same hour; and the latter, at the same age, is equally remarkable for the difference between the times of its rising. The moon moves nearly to the same distance from the sun every day, but it moves in a path the one half of which is much nearer the north than the other; and this is the case also with the apparent annual path of the sun, that luminary appearing much nearer to the north in summer than in winter. Thus, when the moon is moving northward at the most rapid rate, it escapes from the horizon northward, and rises earlier; and when it moves southward at the most rapid rate, it approaches to the horizon, and sets earlier. The full moon can be in the former position only in September or October, and in the latter in March or April; and thus the harvest and hunters' moons are occasioned. * * * was killed, wherever it could be afforded, and in part given to the poor, in commemoration of St. Michael. THE SWALLOW-is one of my favourite birds. He is the joyous prophet of the year, the harbinger of the best season; he lives a life of enjoyment amongst the loveliest forms of nature; winter is unknown to him, and he leaves the green meadows of England in autumn, for the myrtle and orange groves of Italy, and for the palms of Africa. He has always objects of pursuit, and his success is secure. Even the beings selected for his prey are poetical, beautifrom a slow and lingering death in the evening, and killed ful, and transient. The ephemeræ are saved by his means JEWISH HARVEST-HOME.-The Feast of Pentecost was This was a So much for science. But the HARVEST-MOON is also one of the most beautiful objects in the visible creation. "At its rising," says the amiable Howitt, "it has a character so peculiarly its own, that the more a person is accustomed to ex-in a moment when they have known nothing of life but pect and observe it, the more it strikes him with pleasure. He is the constant destroyer of insects, the friend astonishment. The warmth and of man; and, with the stork and the ibis, may be regarded balmy serenity of the atmosphere at that season, as a sacred bird. He is now taking his leave. the sounds of voices borne from distant fields, the an annual offering of gratitude to Jehovah for having blesfreshness which comes with the evening, combines sed the land with increase. It took place fifty days after to make the twilight walks delicious; and scarcely the Passover, and hence the origin of its name in the Greek has the sun departed in the west, when the moon version of our Scriptures. Another appellation was in the east rises from beyond some solitary hill, or applied to it the Feast of Weeks. from behind the dark foliage of the trees, and sails joy is always experienced upon the gathering in of the very suitable celebration in an agricultural society, where up into the still and transparent air, in the full fruits of the earth. The Hebrews were especially desired magnificence of a world. It comes not as in com- on that happy occasion to contrast their improved condimon, a fair but flat disc on the face of the sky,- tion, as freemen reaping their own lands, with the miserawe behold it suspended in the crystal air in its ble state from which they had been rescued by the good providence of Jehovah. The month of May witnessed the greatness and rotundity; we perceive the distance harvest-home of all Palestine in the days of Moses, as well beyond it as sensibly as that before it; and its ap- as in the present times; and no sooner was the pleasant parent size is magnificent." toil of filling their barns completed, than all the males repaired to the holy city with the appointed tribute in their hands, and the song of praise in their mouths. Jewish antiquaries inform us, that there was combined with eucharistical service a commemoration of the wonders which took nounce his law in the ears of his people.-Cabinet Library MEMORABILIA OF THE MONTH. THE STORY-TELLER. THE GHAIST O' KININVIE. (For the Schoolmaster.) pockets well lined from an Aberlour market, took up his ABOUT the year 1750, a drover returning with his quarters for the night in a farm-house on the small estate of Kininvie, near the romantic and beautiful scenery of the Bridge of Fiddich. He started next morning for the south; and, as he was never afterwards heard of, it was generally On the 3d, partridge-shooting commences, as the fields are now supposed to be cleared of grain, place at Mount Sinai when the Lord condescended to pro though in Scotland it is often a full fortnight later. The 8th is a high festival of the Romish Church, the nativity of the Virgin. The 14th was Rood-day, or the Exaltation of the Cross. Fairs wont to be held on all holidays; and among others we have still the Rood Fair at Dumfries. Schoolboys were anciently treated with a nutting on Holy-Rood Day; the Catholic clergy never being inattentive to the pleasures and amusements of the people. Michaelmas day, the 29th, is one of the terms still observed for the election of magisstrates, from "The Lord Mayor of London," downward to the most insignificant burgh bailie in Scotland. Stubble geese are now in perfection, having in England had six weeks feeding; and the goose is accordingly, by prescription at any rate, dedicated to St. Michael. A roast goose is universally the appropriate dinner-dish of Michaelmas day in England. In Scotland the goose belongs of right to Christmas. In Denmark it is the supper of St. Martin's Eve, the 11th November. It is said that the custom of eating goose on Michaelmas day arose from Queen Elizabeth having dined on one with the Governor of the Tower on the 29th September, and while at dinner receiving intelligence of the defeat of the Spanish Armada; but the custom is certainly much older than the reign of Elizabeth. The festival of St. Michael was long observed in Skye, where, "after a procession," the St. Michael's bannock was solemnly baked, of which every one partook. In Ireland, a sheep believed that he had been murdered. At this period there near his well known door at Hillock head. Willie was so frightened that he almost lost his seven senses; he told far and near of the Ghaist-how it appeared like a black dog, and grew by degrees as big as a horse; Ghaist appeared, and kept him in such a state of alarm and whenever the elder ventured out at night-fall, the that he was soon reduced to a skeleton. The Ghaist persevered in his visits for many a night, to the terror not only of the elder, but of the whole country-side. At last, however, as if wearied of enacting a dumb character, one night when very late, it met Willie on his homeward path, and announced itself as the ghost of him who murdered the drover, ordering him to follow it to a THE SCHOOLMASTER, nothing more than my father's old dog, which had run into the wood that day after a hare. "Where's my father?" inquired I, rather hastily. "Ben the house wi' a stranger man," was the reply. Thither I went; when my father seeing me so much agitated, inquired what was the matter? own question, by saying,-"Ho! ho! ye've been fear'd coming through the wood." "What made you afraid, my man?" said the stranger. "Nothing," said I, sheepishly. "Oh! he's been fear'd for the Ghaist," said my father." What Ghaist?" inquired the stranger. "Oh, by the by," he imme Faith that was a well played game. Is that story still be diately added, "The Ghaist o' Kininvie-I recollect nowlieved to be true ?" "True," said my father," ay, as sure as you are Charlie M'Intosh. Though I'm nae fear'd for't mysel', I believe it to be as true as the Bible." "It was just as much a ghaist as I am one," said Charlie, giving proof that he himself was no spirit, by gulping a glass of mountain dew that graced the table, in company with a wooden trencher well plenished with bannocks and cheese."I'll tell you the true way of the story," continued he, at the same time setting down the glass, in the hope of its being again filled, which was done more than once during the course of his narration. certain spot where evidence of that deed of darkness would be found. The supposed murder immediately presented itself to Willie's mind, he felt convinced of the truth of what he had heard concerning the mysterious disappearance of the drover; and notwithstanding his dread of the Ghaist, and his horror at these recollections, he was con--while he at the same time, Scotsman-like, answered his strained, by an ungovernable impulse, to accompany his mysterious guide. When they had nearly reached the house of Tininver,-" There," says the Ghaist, pointing to a green spot with a cross hollowed out, "there is the very turf that conceals the remains of the drover;-to-morrow take them up and bury them in Then I shall have rest and will never trouble you again." consecrated ground. After these words, and just as the clock struck twelve, the Ghaist disappeared, with a yell which the rocks of Tininver reverberated in such tremendous echoes, that the ground on which Willie stood seemed to quiver beneath his feet. As soon as day broke, Willie went to the minister of Mortlach, and gave him a faithful account of what he had seen and heard on the preceding night. The good natured pastor lost no time in collecting a large number of his parishioners, with whom he proceeded, under the elder's guidance, to the celebrated spot pointed out by the Ghaist. After digging to the depth of about four feet, they found some large bones, which they at first supposed to have been those of a sturdy Highlander who had been buried well know. The old Laird of Tininver was a merry fellow, as you about the same place many years before; but they of which he was very fond, and was of course anxious to One of the servant girls had a child to him, soon changed their opinion, and were convinced that they have it christened. Although it was a bastard, he was so had discovered the bones of the murdered drover. skull, however, was awanting; but as there was no The intimate with the minister (for many a hearty glass they remedying this, they carefully collected all the bones they difficulty in obtaining baptism. To his confusion and disused to have together) that he imagined there could be little could find, and deposited them in the churchyard of Mort- appointment however, a William Reid, who was a stanch lach. The minister rewarded Willie for his conduct in member of the church, became so obstreperous in his oppothis interesting affair, and congratulated him on being re-sition to the measure, as to vow he would make the case lieved from the Ghaist o' Kininvie. baptize the infant. This menace so operated on the miniknown to the Presbytery, should the minister attempt to ster and the other members of the session, that it was resolv made satisfaction according to the usual forms of the church. ed by a majority to refuse the baptism unless the laird The minister announced this resolution to the laird, informing him at the same time, that it was Reid who had inenraged the laird, who but a short time before had saved fluenced the votes against him. This intelligence highly Reid from ruin by coming to his relief when his creditors termined on vexing and punishing the ungrateful elder. were about to roup his all; and from that moment he de and trudged homewards with a light and happy heart; but Willie left the manse on coming to the Brig o' Park, who should appear but the black Ghaist again. It ordered him to go next day to a certain spot at Tininver, where he would find the drover's head, and to bury it with the rest of his bones, which Willie, assisted by the minister and his parishioners, honestly and carefully performed. The Ghaist o' Kininvie, after that time, no doubt slept sound enough, although thousands who crossed the Brig o' Park afterwards, did so with fear and trembling. Lately, upon a dreary winter's night, I formed one of a rural party, composed of young and old, and seated as nsual before a blazing fire, listening to the tales and gossip which even still have their power to wile away the darkness of a dismal night in the country. The story of the Ghaist o' Kininvie was told in the manner I have now related it, when an old man, with hoary looks, made the following statement : he told what had happened, and who readily and cheerfully The laird had a man who was "fu' o' tricks," to whom agreed to be the instrument for accomplishing his pur poses. Accordingly, next time Reid was in Mortlach attending the session, the laird's man waylaid him at a lonely place near the Brig o' Park, and having previously fitted When a boy I herded the cows in the woods of Tininver; fours, and by barking and howling, succeeded in frightentwo or three black dogs' skins to his body, got upon all and oft have I trembled to pass the celebrated spot where it ing poor Reid almost out of his wits. was said the Ghost directed the bones to be lifted. night in particular, being obliged to pass by the place on the elder, had seen a ghost in the shape of a big black dog, One spread through the whole country-side that William Reid, Next day it was my way home, I got a most terrible fright. The darkness which had barked at him, and had threatened to appear was but feebly penetrated, by here and there a wreath of again. Prayer meetings were held in Reid's house, and snow which had not yielded to the thaw, although it was every means tried that could be thought of to "lay" the now the beginning of March. The wind was up, and the spirit, but in vain; for the elder was continually visited in woods of Tininver moaning to the passing gale, conspired the same way. to heighten the terror of the hour. said I to myself, and oh! but this is a dismal night Should necessary the business should be brought to an end in some This is a dreary place, ried of so many nights' excursions, told the laird that it was At last the man in dog-skin getting wea the Ghost appear to me, I am sure I should die on the spot. way or other. Having recollected the spot where a calf Just as I had uttered these words, a rustling noise among had been buried many years before, the head of which had some bushes behind me made my head crouch between my been previously cut off in order to terrify a timorous old shoulders, and my hair stand on end. glance towards the place-oh! horrible!-a thing like a As I ventured a woman, he proposed to make Reid believe that its bones dog was ready to leap upon my back.-I screamed aloud them in the churchyard. The laird approved of this plan. were those of a murdered man, and cause him lift and bury mercy mercy and fled with the utmost precipitation; The Ghaist appeared again to Reid in one of his nocturnal but, the object of my terror kept close at my heels until I journeyings from the manse, and declared himself to be the reached my father's house. The innocent prattle of my ghost of a man who had murdered a drover, desiring the sisters" Eh! Geordy, whar got ye colley ?"-Colley, said elder to come along with him that he might shew him I," Ay, colley," said they-"he's been awa a' day,”scarcely prevented me from fainting; while it half con- would lift the bones and bury them in consecrated ground, where he had Luried the body, and promising that, if he rinced me that what I had been so much afraid of was he would trouble him no more. Reid was. rejoiced at the |