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which, joined to his other labours, were sufficient to wear cessible to all classes. Why should their treasures be conout the most robust constitution, and he at last sunk under fined to a select few? It is our intention, therefore, to give a their weight.
| philosophical analysis of these profound works, similar in In private life, Dr Thomson was every thing that is some respects to what is found in the higher class of amiable and engaging. He was mild, and gentle, and medical reviews. The difficulty is no doubt great, yet in cheerful; deeply tender and acutely sensitive in his our opinion it is not insurmountable. Our object is to be strongest affections; most faithful and true in his attach-popular and yet scientific, and brief without becoming ments of friendship; kind-hearted and indulgent to all obscure. By abbreviating details, and giving prominence Fith whom he had intercourse. His firm adherence to to principles, by an exhibition of results rather than of proprinciple, when he thought principle involved, whatever cesses, by sometimes stating in a few sentences an arguappearance of severity it may have presented to those who ment which occupies pages in the original, and then allowsay him only as a public character, had no taint of barsh- ing the author to speak for himself, we expect to introduce ness in his private life; and unbending as he certainly our readers to a more elerated department of intellectual Fas in principle, he never failed to receive with kindness pursuits than that to which many of them have been acwhat was addressed to his reason in the spirit of friend- customed, and make them masters of the train of thought ship. It may indeed be said with truth, that, great as and the nature of the illustrations which are employed in Fere his public merits, and deplorable the public loss in these valuable productions. his death, yet to those who had the happiness to live with The first of these treatises is by Dr Chalmers. It is him in habits of intimacy, the deepest and the bitterest styled · The Adaptation of External Nature to the Moral feeling still is, the separation from a man who possessed and Intellectual Constitution of Man;' and is published so many of the finest and most amiable sensibilities of the l in two octavo volumes. The author informs us at the human heart. It was around his own family hearth, and outset, that he has entered upon a wider field than what in the circle of his intimate acquaintances, that Dr Thom- seems to be indicated by the title. By external nature is son was peculiarly delightful. In him the lion and the commonly understood the material universe: but he has lamb may be said to have met together. It was equally enlarged the phrase so as to make it include all that is natural in him to play with a child, and to enter the lists external to the individual himself. Certain adaptations with a practised polemic. He could be gay without levity, might be traced between the material creation and one and grave without moroseness. His frank and bland human mind, supposing that it existed alone; but a more manners, the equable flow of his cheerfulness and good powerful argument in favour of the divine perfections humour, and the information which he possessed on al-may be constructed from the fact, that man is the member most every subject, made his company to be courted by of a social community, and surrounded by beings like persons of all classes. He could mix with men of the himself. By this simple extension of the phrase, the author world without compromising his principles, or lowering has at once brought within his reach any of the great his character as a minister of the gospel; and his pre-economic and political questions which he may please to sence was enough to repress any thing which had the consider as bearing upon his argument. semblance of irreligion.
The first general argument under this head is founded The loss of such a man, and at such a time, is incal- on the supremacy of conscience. It occupies the first chapculable. His example and spirit had a wholesome and ter. The author very properly commences his task by refreshing, an exhilarating and elevating influence, on the disencumbering the question of many topics with which society in which he moved ; and even the agitation which it is in danger of being confounded, and thus reducing it he produced when he was in his stormy moods, was salu- to its simple and proper elements. It has no connexion tary-like the hurricane (his own favourite image, and whatever with the philosophical disputes regarding the the last which he employed in public), purifying the nature of our mental constitution, the faculties which bemoral atmosphere, and freeing it from the selfishness, long to it, or the character of the laws, whether primary and duplicity, and time-serving, with which it was over- or secondary, by which it is governed. Nor is it of any charged.
moment in this discussion, as to the authority of conscience, in what manner it has been seated in the human bosom.
It may be an original principle in our nature, or it may THE BRIDGEWATER TREATISES.
be the result of circumstances in which all are placed; but FIRST ARTICLE.
in either case the requirement is of the same force. MoreThe origin of the Bridgewater Treatises is well known. I over, it is not affected by the consideration that other prinThe late Earl of Bridgewater, who died in 1829, left eight ciples do, with greater or lesser frequency, obtain a practhousand pounds to the president for the time being of the tical ascendency over conscience. Of this there is an Royal Society, to be given to the person or persons whom ample and melancholy evidence in the history of our race; he might please to appoint to write a work on the Power, but we ought to distinguish betwixt an original tendency Wisdom, and Goodness of God, as manifested in the Crea- and a subsequent aberration. Every one knows what is tion. The President (Gilbert Davies, Esq.) was unwil the object of the regulator in a watch, and it would be unling to take the entire responsibility upon himself, and he just to disparage the skill and intention of the artist, betook the advice of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the cause the machinery has received some injury, which preBishop of London as to the best method of carrying into vents the regulator from acting with that promptitude effect the intention of the noble and reverend testator. / and accuracy which it would otherwise do. In this Eight persons were thus selected, who were each to re- manner the examination is reduced to its proper limits. ceive a thousand pounds, in addition to the profits | It is not a question as to the sources of conscience, but which would be derived from publication. The authors as to the fact of conscience: not how it has found its who were thus honoured are, beyond all question, worthy | way into the human bosom, but bas it a dweiling-place of the distinction which has been conferred upon them; there? It is not a question whether men always act under but it may admit of dispute whether the best method was the influence of conscience, but whether each of the species adopted. Competition might have developed genius and has not an impression, which it is impossible to eradicate, power that to a large extent had been lying dormant or that he ought ever to follow its dictates. It is not a quesunknown. It is probable, too, that greater good would tion as to the actual but to the rightful supremacy of conhave been effected had the treatises been shorter. The fault science. Is it true or is it not, that that principle which proof the Bridgewater Treatises consists in their length; ad- nounces upon the good or evil of actions, demands an absomirable as they are, few persons comparatively have time lute and unqualified superiority over all the other principles to peruse them with the care which they deserve. They of human nature? Does conscience sit as a queen among are, moreover, so expensive, as to command only a limited the other faculties of our mental constitution ? To this only range of readers. In these circumstances, it has occurred one answer can be given, for to borrow the philosophical to us that it would be a public benefit to make them ac- l language of Butler, . This is a constituent part of the idea, that is, of the faculty itself: and to preside and govern, a depth of mystery in every thing connected with the existfrom the very economy and constitution of man, belongs | ence or the origin of evil in creation; yet, even in the to it. Had it strength, as it has right; had it power, as fiercest uproar of our stormy passions, conscience, though it has manifest authority; it would absolutely govern the in her softest whispers, gives to the supremacy of rectiworld.' Had the Creator been a being who loves iniquity tude the voice of an undying testimony; and her light still and hates righteousness, he would never have given to shining in a dark place, her unquelled accents still heard man such a moral constitution. As we infer the genius of in the loudest outcry of nature's rebellious appetites, form an architect from the building he has constructed, so the the strongest argument within reach of the human faculmoral character of Deity is inscribed upon the living image ties, that, in spite of all partial or temporary derange which he has made of himself.
ments, supreme power and supreme goodness are at one. Now it is in these phenomena of conscience, that nature It is true that rebellious man hath, with daring footstep, offers to us far her strongest argument for the moral cba- | trampled on the lessons of conscience; but why, in spite racter of God. Had he been an unrighteous being himself, of man's perversity, is conscience, on the other hand, able would he have given to this, the obviously superior faculty to lift a voice so piercing and so powerful, by which to in man, so distinct and authoritative a voice on the side of remonstrate against the wrong, and to reclaim the honours righteousness? Would he have so constructed the crea- that are due to her? How comes it that, in the mutiny tures of our species, as to have planted in every breast a and uproar of the inferior faculties, that faculty in man, reclaiming witness against himself? Would he have thus / which wears the stamp and impress of the highest, should inscribed on the tablet of every heart the sentence of his remain on the side of truth and holiness? Would humanown condemnation; and is not this just as unlikely, as that ity have thus been moulded by a false and evil spirit; or he should have inscribed it in written characters on the would he have committed such impolicy against himself, forehead of each individual? Would he have so fashioned as to insert in each member of our species a principle the workmanship of his own hands; or, if a God of cruelty, which would make him feel the greatest complacency in injustice, and falsehood, would he have placed in the sta- | his own rectitude, when he feels the most high-minded tion of master and judge that faculty which, felt to be the revolt of indignation and dislike against the being who highest in our nature, would prompt a generous and high- gave him birth? It is not so much that conscience takes minded revolt of all our sentiments against the being who | a part among the other faculties of our nature; but that formed us? From a God possessed of such characteristics, conscience takes among them the part of a governor, and we should surely have expected a differently-moulded hus that man, if he do not obey her suggestions, still, in desmanity; or, in other words, from the actual constitution pite of himself, acknowledges her rights. It is a mighty of man, from the testimonies on the side of all righteous- | argument for the virtue of the governor above, that all the ness, given by the vicegerent within the heart, do we infer laws and injunctions of the governor below are on the side the righteousness of the sovereign who placed it there. He of virtue. It seems as if he had left this representative, or would never have established a conscience in man, and in- remaining witness, for himself, in a world that had cast vested with the authority of a monitor, and given to it off its allegiance; and that, from the voice of the judge those legislative and judicial functions which it obviously within the breast, we may learn the will and the character possesses; and then so framed it, that all its decisions of him who hath invested with such authority his dictates. should be on the side of that virtue which he himself dis- It is this which speaks as much more demonstratively for owned, and condemnatory of that vice which he himself the presidency of a righteous God in human affairs, than exemplified. This is an evidence for the righteousness of for that of impure or unrighteous demons, as did the rod God which keeps its ground amid all the disorders and of Aaron, when it swallowed the rods of the enchanters aberrations to which humanity is liable; and can no more, and magicians in Egypt. In the wildest anarchy of man's indeed, be deafened or overborne by these, than is the right- insurgent appetites and sins, there is still & reclaiming ful authority of public opinion, by the occasional outbreak-voice-a voice which, even when in practice disregarded, ings of iniquity and violence which take place in society. it is impossible not to own; and to which, at the very moThis public opinion may, in those seasons of misrule when ment that we refuse our obedience, we find that we cannot might prevails over right, be deforced from the practical refuse the homage of what ourselves do feel and acknowascendency which it ought to have; but the very senti- ledge to be the best the highest principles of our nature.' ment that it so ought, is our reason for believing the world. In all ages, and in every country, the principle has been to have been originally formed in order that virtue might recognised that there is an essential difference between have the rule over it. In like manner, when, in the bo- right and wrong. Crime has ever been succeeded by resom of every individual man, we can discern a conscience, morse, and this is the truth which was so powerfully explaced there with the obvious design of being a guide and hibited upon the ancient classic stage, when wicked men a commander, it were difficult not to believe, that, what were represented as continually pursued and terrified by ever the partial outrages may be which the cause of vir- the furies with their burning torches. Think not, says tue has to sustain, it has the public mind of the universe Cicero, in a noble passage, that these events actually ocin its favour; and that therefore he, who is the maker and curred. No. It is guilt, and the consternation thence the ruler of such a universe, is a God of righteousness. arising, that torments every wicked man, disturbs his Amid all the subsequent obscurations and errors, the rest, and even drives him mad; his own evil thoughts original design, both of a deranged watch and of a de- and conscious heart fill him with terror. These are the ranged human nature, is alike manifest; first, of the maker constant, the domestic furies of the wicked.' To this hisof the watch, that its motions should harmonise with time; torical argument it has indeed been objected, that there is second, of the maker of man, that his movements should not that uniformity of moral judgments which one is preharmonise with truth and righteousness. We can, in most pared to expect. What is counted a sinful employment by cases, discern between an aberration and an original law; one person may not be regarded so by another. The slave between a direct or primitive tendency and the effect of a trade is still in existence. Actions that are reckoned imdisturbing force, by which that tendency is thwarted and moral by one nation are held in great repute by another, overborne. And so of the constitution of man. It may be and human sacrifices are still offered up in Hindostan. now a loosened and disproportioned thing, yet we can These, however, do not affect the general question. Even trace the original structure-even as from the fragments they who encourage and practise those atrocities do 60 of a ruin, we can obtain the perfect model of a building from other considerations than from their cruelty; and from its capital to its base. It is thus that, however pros- not only in their own heart, but in the reasons which are trate conscience may have fallen, we can still discern its adduced for such conduct, they pay homage to the eternal place of native and original pre-eminence, as being at once and immutable law of morality. Nowhere is crime hothe legislator and the judge in the moral system, though noured because it is crime: nowhere is virtue dishonoured the executive forces of the system have made insurrection because it is virtue. The suffrages of mankind are not against it, and thrown the whole into anarchy. There is given to the man who murders his friend, and withheld
from him, who at imminent danger has rescued his enemy to our health and life, is an instance of gratuitous benevofrom the devouring waves. Collect men of every nation lence upon the part of the Creator, and forms one of the and age upon a vast plain, and place before them a Nero many links in the chain, by which it is proved that God is add a Howard, and it admits not of a moment's doubt | love. It is thus also in the present instance. You do that the English philanthropist would be received with good to another man, and you experience a sense of pleashouts of approbation, while the Roman Emperor would sure in the very performance. Your own happiness was be assailed with a universal yell of execration. There is not thought of, and yet it is infallibly realised. There thus a great uniformity in moral judgments, and the ex- might have been no special gratification of this nature, ceptions, when fairly examined, are so few and trivial as and yet a virtuous action would not have ceased to be a scarcely to deserve a solid refutation; and it would be as duty, nor would it have failed to secure, upon reflection, idle to argue, from oecasional monstrosities, against the the approbation of your conscience. •Take compassion for perfection and symmetry of the human frame, or, from one instance out of the many. The object of this affection some instances of bad taste, against the existence of a cor- is the relief of another's misery, and, in the fulfilment of rect standard of taste, as to infer from certain isolated and this, does the affection meet with its full solace and gratieasily explained facts in human history, that there is no fication; that is, in a something altogether external from universal moral sentiment. Let us listen to the declara- himself. It is true, that there is an appropriate pleasure tion of the heathen moralist we have formerly quoted. in the indulgence of this affection, even as there is in the • There is indeed a true law, a right reason, which is agree- | indulgence of every other; and in proportion, too, to the able to nature, diffused over all, invariable, eternal, wbich strength of the affection, will be the greatness of the pleasunions us to duty by its orders, and deters us from crime sure. The man who is doubly more compassionate than by its prohibition. Nothing can supersede this law, no-his fellow, will have doubly a greater enjoyment in the thing retrench it or make it void. It is in the power neither relief of misery; yet that, most assuredly, not because he of the scnate nor of the people to dispense with its obliga- of the two is the more intently set on his own gratification, tions. It requires no comment; it demands no interpreter. but because he of the two is the more intently set on an It is not one law at Rome and another at Athens; one at outward accomplishment, the relief of another's wretched present and another hereafter; but among all nations, ness. The truth is, that, just because more compassionate and in all time, it will remain one eternal and immutable than his fellow, the more intent is he than the other on law,' Let us kear the words of a nobler than Cicero in the object of this affection, and the less intent is he than support of this doctrine. "For when the Gentiles, which the other on the subject of this affection. His thoughts have not the law (in a written form), do by nature (the and feelings are more drawn away to the sufferer, and moral constitution which God has bestowed upon them) therefore more drawn away from himself. He is the the things contained in the (written) law, these, having most occupied with the object of this affection; and, on nof the law (in a written form) are a law unto themselves; that very account, the least occupied with the pleasure which show the work of the law written in their hearts, of its indulgence. And it is precisely the objective quatheir conscience also bearing them witness, and their lity of these regards, which stamps upon compassion the thoughts the meanwhile accusing or else excusing one character of a disinterested affection. He surely is the another.'
most compassionate whose thoughts and feelings are The second general argument is contained in the second most drawn away to the sufferer, and most drawn away chapter, which is thus entitled, “On the inherent pleasure from self; or, in other words, most taken up with the diof the virtuous and misery of the vicious affections. rect consideration of him who is the object of this affection,
The argument may be presented in this form. There is and least taken up with the refiex consideration of the a pleasure which is the inevitable result of a good action, pleasure that he himself has in the indulgence of it. Yet which has its source in the idea that our conduct has been this prevents not the pleasure from being actually felt; in accordance with the dictates of conscience; but in addi- aud felt, too, in very proportion to the intensity of the com
tion to this, there is an enjoyment in the very exercise of passion; or, in other words, more felt the less it has been Į virtuous feelings, apart altogether from the object con- thought of at the time, or the less it has been pursued for
templated. There is also a misery which is invariably its own sake. It seems unavoidable in every affection, produced by reflection, after a bad action has been per- that, the more a thing is loved, the greater must be the formed : this is called remorse, and has its origin in the pleasure of indulging the love of it: yet it is equally unconsciousness that our conduct has been in opposition to avoidable, that the greater in that case will be our aim what we know to be right; but in addition, there is a posi- | towards the object of the affection, and the less will be our tive pain in the very exercise of the vicious and malignant aim towards the pleasure which accompanies its gratificaaffections, wbich has no connexion with the feeling called tion. And thus, to one who reflects profoundly and care
remorse. It thus appears that not only our intellect, but fully on these things, it is no paradox that he who has had ll our heart, not only the thoughts but the emotions are en- doubly greater enjoyment than another in the exercise of 11 listed upon the side of virtue, and stand out in open enmity compassion, is doubly the more disinterested of the two;
to vice. Man is so constituted by his wise and benevolent that he has had the most pleasure in this affection who creator, that there is happiness in the very act of doing has been the least careful to please himself with the indulgood, and misery in the very act of doing evil, independ- gence of it; that he whose virtuous desires, as being the ent of that operation of the mind which looks backward strongest, have in their gratification ministered to self the upon the deed, and pronounces an impartial judgment, as greatest satisfaction, has been the least actuated of all his to its bearing upon the eternal law of morality. Butler fellows by the wishes, and stood at the greatest distance has clearly brought out the distinction betwixt the final from the aims of selfishness. object of our desires, and the pleasure which is inseparable | It is admitted that there is a pleasure in the gratificafrom their' gratification: and his illustration of it is un- tion of our affections. This cannot be denied; it is expressed commonly happy and simple. You are hungry and you in the very collocation of our words; but nevertheless the desire food. It is brought you and you eat it. Why? You doctrine holds good, that the very feeling of kindness is do so to appease the cravings of hunger, and you have no pleasant, and the very feeling of hatred is painful. This other object in view. But to the very act of eating God may be safely appealed to each individual experience, and has annexed a feeling of enjoyment, which has no refer- the lesson would become more striking if we saw it acted ence to the final object upon which your mind is fixed, out upon a large scale, and first contemplated one commusatisfying the appetite for food. It might have been other- nity where all was love, and then turned our attention to one Wise. It might have been so arranged that we must eat, where all was malice. The former is irradiated with the in order to preserve our existence, and yet the act might sunshine of heaven; the latter is shrouded in the darkness not only have been upaccompanied by pleasure, but have of hell. This idea as to the inherent pleasure or misery of been positively disagreeable. The gratification wbich is virtuous or vicious affections, acquires more prominence inseparable from partaking of that food which is essential | when contrasted in the following manner. Conceive the affections disappointed with regard to their object: kindness waved above his head, while, at the utmost extent of his ! is unable to relieve the want, malice is baflled of its revenge. | powerful voice, he vociferated one of the favourite Jacobite Which of the affections is now to be envied ? Suppose now songs of the day : the affections gratified as regards their object. Love has
• Good luck to the lad that wears the tartan plaid, effected its purpose, and realised the good intended; hatred
Success to Charlie and a' his men; has been successful, and such a reveuge taken as to leave
The right and the wrang we shall ken ere lang,
And the king shall enjoy bis ain again.' nothing more to be desired. Upon whose side is the greater enjoyment experienced? It cannot be too much insisted Perhaps, from the now near position of the enemy, he upon, that in most cases, all that we obtain by the gratifi- trusted that some favourable breeze might bear the words cation of a malignant passion, is but the exchange of one into the very ranks of the English army; for having clo-ed misery for another; and this apart still from the remorse of the song with the usual chorus of denunciations on the foes an evil perpetration. There is one familiar instance of it, of his prince, he was once more breaking forth in the same which often occurs in conversation-when, piqued by some- strain, when the words were suddenly arrested, for a female thing offensive in the remark or manner of our fellows, we starting from among the brushwood that had concealed ber react with a severity which humbles and overwhelms him. figure, stood upon a small knoll, or rising ground, at the In this case, the pain of the resentment is succeeded by the distance of a few yards from him. The spot was at that pain we feel in the spectacle of that distress which our- / time known by the name of the wizard's brae, and the fee selves have created; and this, too, aggravated perhaps by male, who upon this occasion had risen as if by magic from the reprobation of all the by-standers, affording thereby a the bowels of the earth, and who after waving her arms miniature example of the painful alternations which are wildly in the air, had suddenly assumed the motionless constantly taking place in the history of moral evil; when look and air of a sybil, bore through the country the the misery of wrong affections is but replaced, to the per- dreaded character of one who was afflicted with the second petrator himself, by the misery of the wrong actions to sight—the seer and foreteller of events to come. which they have hurried him. It is thus that a life of fre- The sudden apparition was not without its effect upon quent gratification may, notwithstanding, be a life of in- | the Highlander, for the blood rushed to his swarthy check, tense wretchedness. It may help our imagination of such and for a moment he appeared hesitating whether to cona state, to conceive of one, subject crery hour to the agonies tinue his route, or to turn and fiy. Then, with some hurof hunger, with such a mal-conformation at the same time ried strides forward, he muttered between his clenched in his organ of taste, that, in food of every description, he teeth: She can but foretell death or misfortune to mrseľ, felt a bitter and universal nausea. There were here a and let them come; my prince is safe. The darkest fiend constant gratification, yet a constant and severe endurance that ever trod the earth will no bespeak evil for him! -a mere alternation of cruel sufferings the displacement Ay, he is safe! Safe in the strong arm and the true heart of one set of agonies, by the substitution of other agonies o' the monie wha are really to die for him, as this day will in their room. This is seldom, perhaps never realised in prove. We'll gie Cumberland another Fontenoy, and then the physical world; but in the moral world it is a great | hurra for the prince, come what will o' me and the like o' and general phenomenon. The example shows at least theme;' and he confronted the female, with a look possibility of a constitution, under which a series of inces and piercing as her own. But again his eye fell, and again sant gratifications may be nothing better than a restless the blood rushed to his cheek and brow, then as rapidly succession of distress and disquietude; and that such retreating, left them perfectly colourless; for with a strong should be the constitution of our moral nature as to make grasp laid upon his shoulder, while every feature of her a life of vice a life of vanity and cruel vexation, is strong withered countenance seemed distorted with agony, she experimental evidence of him who ordained this constitu exclaimed - Sing on, Dunoan M'Intosh, sing on! Sane. tion, that he hateth iniquity, that he loveth righteous-fower sune, you'll no hae the breath, an ye had the heart ness.'
to sing; for on that field, noo sae purple wi' blooming heather, will ye and your clan, ay, and your prince and
your country, be lost, lost, lost!' and with a long shrill A TALE OF THE FORTY-FIVE.
cry of agony, the poor maniac again tossed her arms wildly BY MISS M. FRASER TYTLER.
in the air. It is well known, that upon the morning of the battle of "Il-omened fiend,' gasped the quivering lips of the Culloden, one half of the unhappy prince's army, worn with Highlander, 'tak back your words, or my dirk shall be fatigue, and literally famishing on the scanty allowance to dyed in your heart's bluid. Tak back your foul words, I which they were reduced, had dispersed themselves in say, or ye and I may baith rue the hour we hae met this search of food through the surrounding country. Many day.' And once more the eye of the Highlander flashed had repaired to Inverness, and at an early hour stragglers fire, his figure seeming to dilate before her; but unmored were seen returning singly, or in groups, to the rendez- either by the passionate appeal or by the increasing rage vous on that fatal field. Among these was Duncan M'In- of her companion, the woman tore the covering from her tosh, whose successful forn ge had so far invigorated body bosom, and with more of calmness in voice and manner, and mind, that little of the desponding look, or the worn continued— The hand o' Duncan M'Intosh was never kent and haggard air of the morning, was now discernible to miss its aim; strike then, and let me never see yon rising in the athletic figure, or in the free and rapid tread of sun set on sic a day o' horror. Why dinna ye strike?' the handsome Highlander. The most picturesque of all she went on, seeing that the hand of the soldier still nergarbs, whether donned by serf or noble, the well adjusted vously grasped the dirk that a moment before he had kilt, and full rich folds of the checkered plaid, showed to seized with so frantic a vehemence. “Why dinna ye strike advantage the tall well-built frame and muscular limbs her wha saved your life in the battle o' Falkirk? better of the wearer, while his whole appearance denoted that had ye been left to dee on that field o' victory, than ! strength and prowess, that had already made him the hero I hae nae mind to hurt ye, mither,' interrupted the Highof many a rude ditty through the Highland hills. He was, | lander; 'but I heed na your words, and as thanks for the life, in truth, a goodly sample of his mountain brethren, for his that it's true enow ye saved, when ithers nearer in kith height approached almost to the gigantic. His open hand and kin passed me by, Duncan M'Intosh will be the first some countenance, expressive of firmness and resolve, bore to gie ye the tidings o' victory. Fare-ye-weel, mither, and also on every feature the stamp of good humour. His keen dinna speak the words to anither ye hae spoken to me; eye was restless and intelligent, and round the blue bonnet they will maybe be less sparing o' your grey hairs.' in which was worn the badge of his clan, clustered a pro- ' Dinna ye speak the words that are far frae your heart, fusion of dark brown curls. A broadsword of unusual Duncan M'Intosh?' resumed the woman; 'weel de ye ken dimensions completed the costume; and truly the ponder- --nane better, that the curse o' God has fallen on my grey ous weapon in his grasp “trembled as light as hazel wand,'hairs, and that the een that might hae been blin' wi' the for with the most apparent case, ever and anon, it was tears they hac shed, can yet see sights that ithers maunns
see. For what else hae I been hunted by man and bairn, and if they canna save their prince they will dee for him! like the wolf i' the mountain or the fox i' the valley ? for But, hist, there's ae thing mair,' she continued, and then what else has my heart been turned to stane and my brain with renewed vehemence- Awa, Duncan M'Intosh, awa! to fire? But ye hae had mair proof, Duncan M'Intosh; ye Tell your prince, that as he wad seat his father i' the bae had mair proof than these. Didna I see your father's throne-as he wad keep the stain frae the name that has wraith, and didna his death come as I had foretold? Didna never kent stain till now, no to put the M.Donalds i' the I warn ye no to take Marion Milan as your bride? and left wing. But na, na, it's doomed, it's doomed; he canna does she sit noo by your hearth-stane? Is she rocking the 'scape it, and the life bluid o' their prince is on their wce bairn i' the cradle, or has she followed the base Sas- / heads this day! Ay, it's doomed, it's doomed! And is much to his hame? Didna I tell ye that in the sight of this then a time for the leal heart and the strong arm to be God and man she would bring sorrow on your head? And biding here? Think ye that in sic a strait Duncan were these words fausc, Duncan M'Intosh-Were these M'Intosh winna be missed frae the clan? Awa, I say, words faue?'
awa.' The eye of the Highlander, which the moment before had the stunning effects of her communication had as it flashed fire, was now moistened with tears. "Peace be were so paralysed the strong nerves of the Highlander, wi' her I hae lo'ed sae weel,' he said in a stified voice. If that he offered neither resistance nor reply, but, obeying the she sinned, mither, dearly has she suffered for that sin. commanding gesture of the woman, strode hastily forward.
Ay, ay,' again shrieked the woman. Ye ken that he had not, however, gone many yards ere suddenly stopthey were true—and will ye doubt that I hae seen waur ping- Fool that I hae been,' he said, “to be moved by sights than these-sights that hae set my brain on fire? sic words as yon. The M'Donalds i' the left wing! as if it Bluid, say ye?-hae na I seen red waves obluid? hae na I wasna kent a' the warld ower, that it's on the right they seen the leal heart and the strong arm trampled i' the hae aye fought, sin' they garr'd the English ken the force earth, butchered like the beasts of the field? And waur yet,o' the Highland arm and the Highland claymore at Banwaur yet, hae na I seen him, the son o' God's anointed, nockburn! It's no' like that they'd gie up their birthright, stand alane among the dead-cursing his young life-curs as they may ca' it. Na, na, I'll gang nae sic fool's errand ing the hopes, that high as they dance now in his heart, to the prince. But I ken what I'll do: I'll e'en gang back will be low enowere lang? Ye doubt mestill,' she exclaimed, as I cam'--I'll gar her unsay the words she spak; for, with increasing rehemence. Oh that I could doubt my senseless as they are, we'll hae nae foul glamour thrown ain sell. Ye think harm canna harm him-harm is roundower us by her this day. Fool, fool that I hae been; the him now. Then with a sudden change of look and voice leares o'the aik may fide, but the stem is still the king o' - What wear ye sae proudly in your bonnet, Duncan the forest;' and with impatient strides he retraced his DI'Intosh?
way to the wizard's knoll. But the woman, or witch, as The Highlander seized the branch of ivy, and with an M'Intosh now termed her, was no longer there, and for exulting laugh exclaimed Thanks, mither, thanks, ye some time his search continued unsuccessful, until recolbae brought me to my senses; 'tis the badge o' my clan, lecting the oak, under which it was said the wizard lay and as it never fades, nae mair will the clan o'M'Intosh. buried, he directed his steps to the spot. She was there,
• Dinna think that your badge is unkent by me-dinna and, scated upon the ground, was chanting in a low think that your badge is unkent by me,' slowly reiterated voice a lament, or death-wail, in her native language. “I the woman; ' and ye say true, as it never fades, so never hae come,' began the Highlander; but he started back in
Till the clan of M·Intosh be extinct. Is na’ the badge o' horror, for the blood flowed from a deep gash which the || thy clan the iry; the Grants the pine; the Frasers the unfortunate woman had inflicted upon herself with a small û yew; the Drummonds the holly; and do any o'these fade? dirk she was known to wear concealed about her person.
Do they no brave alike the sun o'summer and the winter's With another of those shrill and startling cries, that had il now?
already rung so piercingly through the open moor, she Sae will it be wi' the clans,' exultingly interrupted started to her feet, and glaring wildly on him—Wherefore M'Intosh. But calmly crossing her arms on her bosom, are ye here?' she exclaimed. .Do ye fear to meet death in || she muttered—- Wi' his ain words will I confront him;' behalf o'your prince? or come ye to see how Elspeth
and with a mingled expression of contempt and pity, she M'Intosh can die?' and again she plunged the dirk in her fised her eyes upon the young soldier, till observing his bosom. jesture of impatience, she went on.
Hold, hold !' exclaimed Duncan M'Intosh, springing “Ye will ken the truth owre sune; ye needna hurry the forward; “ye are mad, mither, ye are mad; and ye dinn Tords that will sound mair bitter in your ears than wad ken that ye break God's strictest law.' your ain death-knell, for weel do ye lo'e your prince, and I hae had muckle to mak me mad,' said the dying woweel may you lo'e him, better than your ain heart's bluid - man; and my brain has reeled but not maddened. The better than the mither that bore ye; but it's vain, vain ! l justice o Heaven will sleep through this day's fight; and Ye canna save him-fight wi' man ye may, but wi' Heaven why no' his vengeance too, though this deed be done? But Je daurna.'
didna I tell ye no to bide here, Duncan M'Intosh? Awal, The voice of the poor woman had risen during this ad- young man, awa to the battle-field-awa to your bloody dress to the shrill shriek of agony; but now sinking to the grave!' Her voice faltered; she sank back and expired. boarse whisper of intense suffering, · What is the badge Weary has been your life, and darker still is your deatho thy prince, Duncan M'Intosh ?' she asked; and the day,' muttered the Highlander, gazing into the dimmed Words seemed indeed to ring in the ears of the Highlander eyeballs of the corpse, as if to assure himself that life was a knell more bitter than would have been his own death- indeed extinct; then drawing the tattered plaid in decent Warrant. He attempted no reply, but, as if smitten with folds about the body, so as to conceal the face of the deadthe sudden weakness of a child, his iron frame trembled in . I hae loitered ower lang already,' he said; "but gin I reevery limb, while with his eyes fixed upon hers, he listened turn from the field vanquished or a vanquisher, I will gie to her words. His badge is the aik,' she went on; "and ye Christian burial,' and once more turning from the spot, as the aik is, so will be the fate o' thy prince; as it he strode with rapiù steps towards the battle-field. flourished, so ance did he; and as its withered leaves still! The Highland army was already drawn up in order of bang on the branches, till they were forced aff by the fight. Hundreds of true hearts, that hunger could not new leaves i' the spring, so will thy prince, the rightfu' daunt, nor fatigue subdue, were there gathered round the ownero' the crown, be forced frae the throne, that was and prince, for whom so often they had fought and conquered ; is his birthright. But gang your ways, young man-gang while at the distance of scarcely a mile, the army of the your ways; dinna stay biding here—my een hae seen what Duke of Cumberland covered twice the space of ground maunna meet the e'eo anither, and ye hae heard what nane occupied by the Highlanders. else maun hear. See that it be sae--and yet it's no at the The perfect order, the long compact line, the superior thocht o' death that the heart o'a Highlander will quail ; | force of horse and artillery, were all scanned by the keen