its banks; the eyes of the husbandman always sparkled with joy as he looked upon the line of verdant beauty that marked its course through his fields and meadows; so it went, blessing and blessed of all. But where was the prudent Pool? Alas! in its inglorious inactivity, it grew sickly and pestilential. The beasts of the field put their lips to it, but turned away without drinking. The breezes stopped, and kissed it by mistake, but, chilled, shrank away. It caught the malaria in the contact, and carried ague through the region, and the inhabitants caught it, and had to move away; and, at last, the very frogs cast their venom upon the Pool, and deserted it; and Heaven, in mercy to man, smote it with a hotter breath, and dried it up. But, did not the little Stream exhaust itself? Oh, no! God saw to that. It emptied its full cup into the river, and the river bore it on to the sea, and the sea welcomed it, and the sun smiled upon the sea, and the sea sent up its incense to greet the sun, and the clouds caught in their capacious bosoms the incense from the sea, and the winds, like waiting steeds, caught the chariots of the clouds, and bore them to the mountain that gave the little Fountain birth, and there they tipped the brimming cup, and poured the grateful baptism down. So God saw to it, that the little Fountain, though it gave so fully and so joyfully, never ran dry. And if God so bless the fountain, will He not bless you, if, as ye have freely received, ye also freely give?' Be assured He will. Willets. BRITISH THUGGISM. THE title of this article may be deemed by some of our readers, at first sight, a harsh one. We frankly admit it to be so; but, nevertheless, we give it advisedly, and with a firm persuasion of its being founded on truth, and justly merited. The crafty adulterators of human food may well be . called Thugs,' for they are as bad (at least many of them are) as any of their class in any part of India. Indeed, in some respects, they are worse. The Indian Thugs are heathens, and may easily be supposed capable of perpetrating heathenish deeds. The British ones are professed Christians; and, therefore, when they abuse the light of the Gospel, and act in a heathenish manner, they add the sin of hypocrisy to their damnable and murderous dishonesty. They are more numerous, too, than their Eastern compeers, and hence their quantum of crime extends over a wider space, and must be measured by a higher figure. For one person injured or destroyed by this cruel craftiness in India, there are hundreds, or probably thousands, who suffer more or less severely in the United Kingdom. The motive of both is the same -the love of money, the thirst for goldan accursed passion, that plagues the conscience here, and that will drown the soul in perdition hereafter. The British Government has acted nobly, in labouring to destroy Thuggism in our Indian territories; but their good work will only be half performed, if they make no attempt to inflict destruction upon it at home. Of course, it may require Herculean efforts; but nothing short of the impossible should be left untried in the heroic and beneficent warfare. Mr Simmonds, in his interesting work on the Vegetable Kingdom, estimates the loss accruing to revenue, from the various adulterating processes, as inoe than two millions sterling; and this sum, large as it is, may probably be within the mark. But they cost the nation a great deal more than this. The wealth of a country bears a direct proportion to its industry. An idle or weakly population must of necessity be poor. Now, it can be clearly proved, from Dr Hassals' invaluable papers in the Lancet, that many strong constitutions are enfeebled by the deleterious infusions, and that many useful working lives are destroyed by them. Hence it follows that the general industry of the empire is deeply affected, and the sum of the national wealth proportionally diminished. cannot doubt, then, that the loss incurred by all classes must be immense. It must amount not to two, but to many millions; and, of course, the imperial treasury must also suffer considerably from the same cause. We Our penal legislation is not worthy of the name, if it cannot cut up by the roots this odious and destructive traffic. A publie fine, which is easily paid out of their unhallowed profits, is a mere nothing for so crying a sin, for so great an enormity. It sometimes involves murder; and this crime is a capital one by statute. It often involves bodily injury; and when this is the case, banishment is not too severe a penalty. It always involves dishonesty; and offences against property are punished with disgrace, imprisonment, and hard labour. To pick a silk or even a cotton handkerchief from the pocket of a passerby, is accounted felony; and we may well ask, if the stealthy putting of chalk, or alum, or cocculus Indicus, or even worse, into the mouth and stomach of an ignorant or unsuspecting customer, should be considered less than felony, and punished in a more lenient manner? We opine not. The criminality is far greater, and the punishment should be much more severe. doing, not only the outraged public, but the miscreant traffickers themselves, a service and a benefit, when they are branded with a mark of infamy, and ex THE METHOD OF ACQUIRING N. We entertain some suspicion, that the Pulpit has not fully discharged its duty in raising its voice against this fraudulent and pestiferous system. With a few exceptions here and there, preachers in gene-posed to that legal vengeance, which their ral have kept too silent in regard to so heinous and mischievous depravity has so grave an infringement of Christian morals. justly brought down upon their heads. It violates, as we have seen, in the most glaring and direct manner, the eighth, and (in too many cases) the sixth commandments. In one point, it is even worse than Indian Thuggism. The wealthy traveller, or, at least, one supposed to carry some money along with him, is the coveted, and, generally speaking, the exclusive prey of the latter; but, alas! how many innocent children, in the first fresh bloom of health, have been prematurely cut off by the showy and attractive colours of empoisoned sweetmeats! The names of these buds of promise' are occasionally reported in the public prints; but the far greater number of them, it is to be feared, pass away from the world without any register of their early doom, or, at least, of its lamentAnd who can tell the number of adults and able-bodied men who have been torn, in the noon-day of life, from their families and from society, by dele able cause. terious admixtures in bread and beer, not to speak of other necessaries? Who would have thought that so simple a luxury as snuff could be so 'cooked up' as to secure its paralytic victims? And yet Mr Letheley, Professor of Chemistry to the London Hospital, declares, in his evidence before the Parliamentary Commission, that possibly hundreds of people had died from its use.' Nay, the very diseased are hurried into eternity by what was bought to cure them, adulterated drugs! That noble discovery of chloroform, which stifles pain under the severest operation, and has immortalized the name of Simpson, is rendered useless, or even noxious, by this secret nefarious agency. The common interests of humanity, therefore, imperiously require that all voices should be raised aloud against it. The press is nobly doing its duty, and the pulpit and Parliament must not lag behind. A great work is before them, and all their united energies must be exerted to accomplish it. No quarter should be given to these traitors against their species. The compounders of the 'deadly abominations' may be more criminal than the venders; but the latter should not be allowed to escape, for all are, more or less, heavily laden with guilt. Their inhuman arts and practices throw disgrace upon a Christian land. They will obstruct the very progress of the Gospel among Pagan nations. They deaden every impulse of charity; they violate every principle of morals; they dishonour the name and profession of religion; and it is 1. PROFOUND learning is acquired by means of these great instruments, Genius, Memory, and Study. 2. Genius is improved by exercise. 3. Memory, too, becomes stronger by practice. 4. By intemperance and luxury they both are weakened; by health both are strengthened and increased, by sloth and long intermission they are enervated; but by frequent use they become quick, and are ever ready to the call. 5. While reading, be strictly attentive; when you listen, lose not what is spoken; let not your mind wander to other subjects, but force its energies to the one, the only one, you bring before it. 6. When the mind does swerve, recall it by a gentle whisper; put aside those daring thoughts that interrupt the subject of your present studies to a fitter opportunity. 7. Know that inattention to what you read or have to hear, is a sacrifice both of time and of the intention. 8. Be not ashamed to ask concerning that, whatever it may be, of which you are ignorant. Blush not to be taught by any person, however inferior he may be in rank or age; for the greatest men have not been ashamed of it: blush rather for your unwillingness to learn, than for your ignorance of learning. 9. In fine, whatever you wish to appear, strive to be in reality, else your wishes will be profitless and vain. 10. Time impairs what is false, yet it strengthens what is true. 11. Deception is but of short duration. 12. Follow your master, rather than show an inclination to outrun him; yield to him, rather than oppose him. 13. Love him, and look up to him as to a parent; give credit to his observations, and esteem them to be correct. 14. Be but once reproved for error, and never commit a fault a second, or a third time; be improved by gentle reprehension. 15. Endeavour to remember in what you once have erred, lest from negligence you again do wrong. 16. Every one is apt to err, but it is the slothful alone that persevere in error. 17. Bear in mind that there is no sense through which we imbibe knowledge more speedily than through that of hearing. 18. Nothing is there easier, and nothing is there more useful, than to hear much. 19. Show not an inclination to listen to what is trifling, ridiculous, or absurd, rather than to what is prudent, praiseworthy, or grave. 20. Both the ridiculous and the praiseworthy demand equal attention; but in the advantage resulting from them, there is a great disparity indeed. 21. Let not your endeavours be to answer much, but to answer to the purpose, and in proper time. 22. Turn not your eyes alone from what is shameful and indecorous, but your ears also. Remember the old saying, 'Evil communications corrupt good manners.' 23. Wherever you may be, listen attentively to every thing that is said. 24. From the wise you may learn what will improve you. 25. From the foolish you may know how to be more guarded. 26. Adopt what is approved by the wise. 27. Shun that which is lauded by the foolish. 28. Treasure in your mind every observation commended either for its wit or its decorum, for its wisdom or for its erudition, for its genius or its urbanity; so that when the opportunity offers, you may use it to your advantage. 29. Any remark you may meet with while reading or in conversation, and that you think excellent or useful, put down in a memorandum-book, which you should keep with you for the purpose; this will enable you to refresh your memory when a similar remark or expression you may require. 30. Write, re-write, and frequently make extracts; never read without a pencil in your hand; and suffer not a day to pass without composing a letter to some friend, and such a one that he may answer it; show your letter to your Tutor, and profit by his observations on it. 31. Never let your memory be at rest. 32. There is no faculty that likes so much to be employed as the memory; nor is there one that improves more by exercise. 33. Every day intrust to it some one thing or other. 34. The more you commit to the care of memory, the more faithfully will it retain every thing; and the less you trust it with, so much the more will its retentive power become relaxed. 35. Indulge your memory with a little respite after you have learned any thing by heart; but some time after forget not to demand of it that which you have deposited. 36. Whatever you wish to learn by heart, read over several times with the greatest attention, just before you retire to rest: in the morning call your memory to account for that which you over-night committed to its custody. 37. Beware of intoxication, and be ever careful of your bodily health. 38. Wine is the death of memory. A TRUE FRIEND. WHEN sable darkness veils the sky, Except the lurid light'ning's flash, A spot of azure from afar, So, 'mid life's chequer'd, weary path, Bestrew'd with sorrow, suffering, death, Is that kind friend, Who doth, with soul sincere and true, His work is love, and not a task- The heart oppress'd with grief and care The sufferer feels the hallow'd pow'r And whispers, 'mid the jarring strife, His voice is soothing, and his eye The overflowing of the soul, Nor does he tire, but, night and day, Which cheers the heart; The willow weeps with plaintive sigh, D. J. MAGDALENE NISBET, THE MAIDEN OF THE MERSE: A Tale of the Persecution of Charles the CHAPTER II. Ir was the afternoon of a frosty winter day in the beginning of the year 1678. A thin covering of snow wrapped the ground, and gently bent the branches of the trees. The evening star, beautifully brilliant, was already climbing the heavens, and the full moon was preparing her lamp for the illumination of the coming night. left to you by your father as a burden on the estate, refuse to receive the payment, and craftily pretend that you wished the money to remain in your brother's hand as a portion for Magdalene, then an infant? Did you not, while thus pretending the warmest friendship for your brother and his family, basely inform against them as attending conventicles? Did you not thus manage, with covert villany, to have him heavily and repeatedly fined, till his means were exhausted? Did you not manage, on account of his being present at the preaching at the Blue Cairn, on Lauder-Muir, to have him cast into the prison in Dunse, where he caught the disease of which he died? Have you not, ever since his death, harassed his widow with ceaseless importunity and cruel threats, to pay you the legacy left to you by your father, and, for this purpose, to sell the estate to you at a price far below its value? And would she not, just to be delivered from your tyranny, have done so, and thus sacrificed her own and her daughter's interests, but for the counsel and pecuniary aid of Mark Aitchison, your brother's tried friend; who, though he had never seen Mrs Nisbet or her daughter, yet, out of the friendship he bore your brother, furnished his widow with the means of paying your claim, and thus saving the estate of Primrose-Brae from your cruel and covetous hands? What, then, O man, have you to say for yourself? I charge you with covetousness! I charge you with dissimulation! I charge you with cruelty! I charge you with murder! Turn your ear towards that It was at this time that Logan Nisbet, the uncle of Magdalene, was returning on horseback from the burial of her mother. He had seen laid in the grave the remains of an excellent woman, whose life he had embittered, whose death he had hastened, by insult and wrong; and it seemed as if the sad circumstances of the occasion, associated with stinging recollections, had touched his heart. He departed from the Preston churchyard, and pursued his journey homeward, in the direction of Lammer-Moor, with a somewhat saddened heart and awakened conscience. He forded the Whiteadder, he rode through moor and plantation; and as he rode on, lonely and slowly, the winds moaning over the waste and rustling among the trees, and the melancholy flow of the distant river, seemed to pour into his ear the strange and frightful voices of the invisible world. Now he advances through the pass of the hills, rising white and shadowy on each side of him, under the radiance of the now glow-churchyard in Preston. Are there not ing moon; but his uneasy movements, and his not unfrequent starts, showed that a conflict was raging in the spirit of Logan Nisbet. This was, indeed, the case. His conscience, touched by the ethereal spear of the Holy Spirit, as He often touches the consciences of bad men, was roused into action, to make a fresh and vigorous effort for the redemption of Logan Nisbet from Satan to God. Conscience accused, the depraved heart resisted and defended; and thus, between these two champions, the combat was stoutly maintained. 'You have,' said Conscience, 'been harsh and false to Magdalene Nisbet's father and mother; yea, their blood cries to Heaven against you from their graves. Listen now, till I trace your steps of falsehood and cruelty towards the dead. Have you not, all along, cast a covetous eye upon your brother's estate? Have you not wished a thousand times in your heart that he might be slain in battle? Did you not, when he was able to pay you, and wished to pay you, the legacy upbraiding voices coming from it on every sough of the wind? Is not your brother's, is not your sister's, blood crying aloud to Heaven for vengeance on you, the murderer? Go down on your knees, thengo down now in penitence before God, and, in the belief of the Saviour's atoning blood, cry, "God be merciful to me the sinner." 'Hold-hold a little,' replied depraved Heart, 'there is no need of such hurry. I may be guilty to some extent, but I am not so guilty as you would make me. Was it not natural for me to wish to possess the estate on which I was born and brought up? And was not I, in some reason, entitled to possess, seeing that I was the working slave on the farm, ploughing and reaping, and, by my industry, increasing my father's wealth, while my brother was absent, fighting and plundering in England? What did I get, at my father's death, for all this sweating and toiling for the heir and elder brother? Did I get anything but that paltry legacy of five hundred pounds? Was that a re ward for my labour? How, then, was it covetous in me to desire a place which I liked, and for the better cultivating and increasing in value of which I had wrought like a slave, while he that came to inherit was away seeking his pleasure in the wars, and, under Leslie, and Cromwell, and other rascals, was fighting against his lawful king, and the best interests of the country? You accuse me of dissimulation; but what, after all, was my dissimulation? Did it not arise from the natural softness of my heart and gentleness of my temper, which always made me lose heart in my brother's presence, and under the glance of his proud martial eye, so that I could not speak my mind out-could not urge, and reason, and threaten, and stamp in his presence, as I could in that of his widow, but was obliged to fawn and dissemble? You charge me with cruelty; but if I was cruel, I was cruel only in seeking my own. What right had my brother's wife or daughter to my five hundred pounds? As to your charge of murder, I make light of that. Murder? Did I strike at my brother and his wife with hammer or knife? Was I the fever that burned up the one, or the consumption that wasted the other? If my brother was cast into the Dunse prison, where he caught the fever of which he died, was it not his own rebellious conduct against king and government which brought him there? and if I informed against my brother, was I not doing my duty as a faithful subject of the king? was I not, really and truly, doing a kind act to my brother himself, in seeking to win him from the error of his ways, to draw him from the company and conspiracies of Oliverians, Republicans, Presbyterians, Field-preachers, Bass Rock and Grassmarket heroes? was I not endeavouring to make him obey the Scripture, by leading him in the way of "honouring the king, and being subject to the higher powers ?" I I 'That, then, is my case, Conscience, and you must not try to come over me with hard blows and terrifying accusations. know what is right as well as you do. admit that, to-day, when I stood in my brother's sorrowful house, when I saw his empty chair by the fire-side, when I saw the coffin of his wife, when I saw the tears of his orphan girl, when I stood in the old churchyard, amid the dust of my fathers, when I saw the clods rattle down on the coffin-lid, and cover up another of my kindred from the light of the sun; and when strange thoughts came crowding into my mind of the day of judgment, of the trumpet of the Archangel sounding; of the Lord, and the angels, and the saints coming; of every spot of earth heaving, and of the dead everywhere rising from their graves, and rushing with tumultuous excitement to the judgment-seat; of the world on fire, of all the universe gathered around the great white throne, of the everlasting separation of the righteous from the wicked, and of the wicked being cast into hell-fire,-I at one time was almost weeping, at another was trembling like the aspen-tree, at another was shuddering, with my flesh cold and creeping as with serpent life, so that I could have dashed into the grave, or plunged into the Whiteadder, or have run from the wrath of God into the heart of Cockburn-Law, if it could have opened its rocky doors to receive and hide me;-but now shadows avaunt! Logan Nisbet's himself again! The bracing hill. air is refreshing me, and, as I ride farther and farther away from that churchyard, my mind becomes clearer and clearer from thunder-cloud thoughts. The wind is not sighing so wildly now. The mournful roar of the Whiteadder is left far behind. The moon is shining clearly, and yonder is my home of Hill-Bonny glancing in the moonbeams. This is a fine world, if it was not disturbed by field-preachers, by hard passages of the Bible, and by an angry conscience! But we must keep such enemies down, and, so far as I am concerned, down they shall be kept; and so, Mr Conscience, to begin with you, "At your peril use any further liberty with me! Good night! and for ever Farewell!" At this moment, a person came riding up quickly behind, and, having satisfied himself that it was Logan Nisbet who moved before him, irew up alongside of Mr Nisbet with a hearty recognition. 'Its jist you, Mr Nisbet; weel met on sich a bonny moonshiny nicht!' 'Mr Bertram o' Brambletree, I declare!' 'The same; ye no were at the Dunse merkit the day?' 'Na; I was down at the auld kirkyard at Preston, burying my brither's widow.' 'Directly-directly! ay, is she ganel and what, may I speer, Mr Nisbet, has become o' the lassie, her daughter?' 'O, puir thing! she's yonder bleating, in the big, lone house, like a strayed lamb on the hill.' 'Weel, Mr Nisbet, I daur to say, yon lassie will mak a guid wife to some bachelor-farmer like me.' 'I dinna dispute that wi' you, Mr Bertram; and, nae doubt, as she's a sort o' heiress-tho' if every body had their ain, I doubt there'll be little to heir-you and the likes o' you will be lookin after Miss Magdalene as a sort o' prize. It's aye the case, a' the world over, that wherever |