beeches, hollies, and copsewood of various descriptions, so closely as totally to intercept the level beams of the sinking sun; in others they receded from each other, forming those long, sweeping vistas, in the intricacy of which the eye delights to lose itself; while imagination considers them as the paths to yet wilder scenes of silvan solitude. Here the red rays of the sun shot a broken and discoloured light, that partially hung upon the shattered boughs and mossy trunks of the trees; and there they illuminated, in brilliant patches, the portions of turf to which they made their way. A considerable open space in the midst of this glade seemed formerly to have been dedicated to the rites of Druidical superstition; for on the summit of a hillock, so regular as to seem artificial, there still remained part of a circle of rough, unhewn stones, of large dimensions. Seven stood upright; the rest had been dislodged from their places, probably by the zeal of some convert to Christianity, and lay, some prostrate near their former site, and others on the side of the hill. One large stone only had found its way to the bottom, and, in stopping the course of a small brook which glided smoothly round the foot of the eminence, gave, by its opposition, a feeble voice of murmur to the placid and elsewhere silent streamlet. fantastic appearance. His jacket had been stained of a bright purple hue, upon which there had been some attempt to paint grotesque ornaments in different colours. To the jacket he added a short cloak, which scarcely reached half-way down his thigh. It was of crimson cloth, though a good deal soiled, lined with bright yellow; and as he could transfer it from one shoulder to the other, or, at his pleasure, draw it all around him, its width, contrasted with its want of longitude, formed a fantastic piece of drapery. He had thin silver bracelets upon his arms, and on his neck a collar of the same metal, bearing the inscription: 'Wamba, the son of Witless, is the thrall of Cedric of Rotherwood.' This personage had the same sort of sandals with his companion; but instead of the roll of leather thong, his legs were cased in a sort of gaiters, of which one was red and the other yellow. He was provided also with a cap, having around it more than one bell, about the size of those attached to hawks, which jingled as he turned his head to one side or other; and as he seldom remained a minute in the same posture, the sound might be considered as incessant. Around the edge of this cap was a stiff bandeau of leather, cut at the top into open work resembling a coronet; while a prolonged bag arose from within it, and fell down on one shoulder, like an oldThe human figures which completed this landscape fashioned night-cap, or a jelly-bag, or the head-gear were in number two, partaking, in their dress and of a modern hussar. It was to this part of the cap appearance, of that wild and rustic character which that the bells were attached, which circumstance, as belonged to the woodlands of the West Riding of York-well as the shape of his head-dress, and his own halfshire at that early period. The eldest of these men had crazed, half-cunning expression of countenance, suffia stern, savage, and wild aspect. His garment was of ciently pointed him out as belonging to the race of the simplest form imaginable, being a close jacket with domestic clowns or jesters maintained in the houses of sleeves, composed of the tanned skin of some animal, on the wealthy, to help away the tedium of those lingering which the hair had been originally left, but which had hours which they were obliged to spend within doors. been worn off in so many places that it would have been He bore, like his companion, a scrip attached to his difficult to distinguish, from the patches that remained, belt; but had neither horn nor knife, being probably to what creature the fur had belonged. This primeval considered as belonging to a class whom it is esteemed vestment reached from the throat to the knees, and dangerous to intrust with edge-tools. In place of served at once all the usual purposes of body-clothing. these, he was equipped with a sword of lath, resemThere was no wider opening at the collar than was bling that with which Harlequin operates his wonders necessary to admit the passage of the head, from which upon the modern stage. it may be inferred that it was put on by slipping it over the head and shoulders, in the manner of a modern shirt, or ancient hauberk. Sandals, bound with thongs made of boar's hide, protected the feet, and a roll of thin leather was twined artificially around the legs, and, ascending above the calf, left the knees bare, like those of a Scottish Highlander. To make the jacket sit yet more close to the body, it was gathered at the middle by a broad leathern belt, secured by a brass buckle, to one side of which was attached a sort of scrip, and to the other a ram's horn, accoutred with a mouth-piece, for the purpose of blowing. In the same belt was stuck one of those long, broad, sharp-pointed, and two-edged knives, with a buck's-horn handle, which were fabricated in the neighbourhood, and bore, even at this early period, the name of a Sheffield whittle. The man had no covering upon his head, which was only defended by his own thick hair, matted and twisted together, and scorched by the influence of the sun into a rusty, darkred colour, forming a contrast with the overgrown beard upon his cheeks, which was rather of a yellow or amber hue. One part of his dress only remains; but it is too remarkable to be suppressed; it was a brass ring, resembling a dog's collar, but without any opening, and soldered fast round his neck, so loose as to form no impediment to his breathing, yet so tight as to be incapable of being removed excepting by the use of the file. On this singular gorget was engraved, in Saxon characters, an inscription of the following purport: Gurth, the son of Beowulph, is the born thrall of Cedric of Rotherwood.' Beside the swine-herd-for such was Gurth's occupation-was seated, upon one of the fallen Druidical monuments, a person about ten years younger in appearance, and whose dress, though resembling his companion's in form, was of better materials and a more The outward appearance of these two men formed scarce a stronger contrast than their look and demeanour. That of the serf or bondsman was sad and sullen ; his aspect was bent on the ground with an appearance of deep dejection, which might be almost construed into apathy, had not the fire which occasionally sparkled in his red eye manifested that there slumbered, under the appearance of sullen despondency, a sense of oppression, and a disposition to resistance. The looks of Wamba, on the other hand, indicated, as usual with his class, a sort of vacant curiosity and fidgety impatience of any posture of repose, together with the utmost self-satisfaction respecting his own situation, and the appearance which he made. The dialogue which they maintained between them was carried on in Anglo-Saxon, which was universally spoken by the inferior classes, excepting the Norman soldiers and the immediate personal dependents of the great feudal nobles. The Fisherman's Funeral.-From The Antiquary.' The Antiquary, being now alone, hastened his pace and soon arrived before the half-dozen cottages at Mussel-Crag. They now had, in addition to their usual squalid and uncomfortable appearance, the melancholy attributes of the house of mourning. The boats were all drawn up on the beach; and, though the day was fine and the season favourable, the chant which is used by the fishers when at sea was silent, as well as the prattle of the children, and the shrill song of the mother as she sits mending her nets by the door. A few of the neighbours, some in their antique and well-saved suits of black, others in their ordinary clothes, but all bearing an expression of mournful sympathy with distress so sudden and unexpected, stood gathered around the door of Mucklebackit's cottage, waiting 'till the body NOVELISTS. ENGLISH LITERATURE. was lifted.' As the Laird of Monkbarns approached, they made way for him to enter, doffing their hats and bonnets, as he passed, with an air of melancholy courtesy, and he returned their salutes in the same manner. persons by whom she was surrounded. Then finally, When Oldbuck entered this house of mourning, he was received by a general and silent inclination of the head, and, according to the fashion of Scotland on such At this moment the clergyman entered the occasions, wine and spirits were offered round to the He had no sooner entered the hut, and guests. cottage. received the mute and melancholy salutations of the company whom it contained, than he edged himself towards the unfortunate father, and seemed to endeavour to slide in a few words of condolence or of consolation. But the old man was incapable as yet of receiving either; he nodded, however, gruffly, and shook the clergyman's hand in acknowledgment of his good intentions, but was either unable or unwilling to make any In the inside of the cottage was a scene which our Wilkie alone could have painted with that exquisite feeling of nature which characterises his enchanting productions. The body was laid in its coffin within the wooden bedstead which the young fisher had occupied while alive. At a little distance stood the father, whose rugged, weather-beaten countenance, shaded by his grizzled hair, had faced many a stormy night and night-like day. He was apparently revolving his loss in his mind with that strong feeling of painful grief peculiar to harsh and rough characters, which almost breaks forth into hatred against the world and all that remain in it after the beloved object is withdrawn. The old man had made the most desperate efforts to save his son, and had been withheld only by main force from renewing them at a moment when, without the possibility of assisting the sufferer, he must himself have perished. All this apparently was boiling in his recollection. His glance was directed sidelong towards the coffin, as to an object on which he could not steadfastly look, and yet from which he could not withdraw his eyes. His answers to the necessary questions which were occasionally put to him were brief, harsh, and almost fierce. His family had not yet dared to address to him a word either of sympathy or consolation. His masculine wife, virago as she was, and absolute mistress of the family, as she justly boasted herself on all ordin-verbal reply. The minister next passed to the mother, moving along ary occasions, was, by this great loss, terrified into silence and submission, and compelled to hide from her hus- the floor as slowly, silently, and gradually as if he had As been afraid that the ground would, like unsafe ice, break band's observation the bursts of her female sorrow. he had rejected food ever since the disaster had hap- beneath his feet, or that the first echo of a footstep was pened, not daring herself to approach him, she had to dissolve some magic spell, and plunge the hut, with that morning, with affectionate artifice, employed the all its inmates, into a subterranean abyss. The tenor youngest and favourite child to present her husband with of what he had said to the poor woman could only be some nourishment. His first action was to push it from judged by her answers, as, half-stifled by sobs illhim with an angry violence that frightened the child; repressed, and by the covering which she still kept over his next, to snatch up the boy, and devour him with her countenance, she faintly answered at each pause kisses. Ye'll be a braw fellow, an ye be spared, in his speech: Yes, sir, yes!-Ye're very gude—ye 're Patie; but ye'll never-never can be-what he was to very gude !--Nae doubt, nae doubt! It's our duty to me! He has sailed the coble wi' me since he was ten submit! But, O dear! my poor Steenie! the pride o' years auld, and there wasna the like o' him drew a net my very heart, that was sae handsome and comely, and a help to his family, and a comfort to us a', and a betwixt this and Buchan-ness. They say folks maun submit; I will try.' And he had been silent from that pleasure to a' that lookit on him! O my bairn! my moment until compelled to answer the necessary ques- bairn! my bairn! what for is thou lying there! and eh! tions we have already noticed. Such was the discon- what for am I left to greet for ye!' solate state of the father. In another corner of the cottage, her face covered by her apron, which was flung over it, sat the mother, the nature of her grief sufficiently indicated by the wringing of her hands, and the convulsive agitations of her bosom, which the covering could not conceal. Two of her gossips, officiously whispering into her ear the commonplace topic of resignation under irremediable misfortune, seemed as if they were endeavouring to stem the grief The sorrow of the which they could not console. children was mingled with wonder at the preparations they beheld around them, and at the unusual display of wheaten bread and wine, which the poorest peasant or fisher offers to the guests on these mournful occasions; and thus their grief for their brother's death was almost already lost in admiration of the splendour of his funeral. But the figure of the old grandmother was the most remarkable of the sorrowing group. Seated on her accustomed chair, with her usual air of apathy, and want of interest in what surrounded her, she seemed every now and then mechanically to resume the motion of twirling her spindle; then to look towards her bosom for the distaff, although both had been laid aside. She would then cast her eyes about, as if surprised at missing the usual implements of her industry, and appear struck by the black colour of the gown in which they had dressed her, and embarrassed by the number of 71 There was no contending with this burst of sorrow and natural affection. Oldbuck had repeated recourse to his snuff-box to conceal the tears which, despite his shrewd and caustic temper, were apt to start on such occasions. The female assistants whimpered, the men held their bonnets to their faces and spoke apart with each other. Mr Oldbuck observed to the clergyman, that it was time to proceed with the ceremony. The father was incapable of giving directions, but the nearest relation of the family made a sign to the carpenter, who in such cases The creak of the screw-nails presently goes through the duty of the undertaker, to proceed with The his office. announced that the lid of the last mansion of mortality was in the act of being secured above its tenant. last act which separates us for ever, even from the mortal relics of the person we assemble to mourn, has usually its effect upon the most indifferent, selfish, and hard-hearted. With a spirit of contradiction, which we may be pardoned for esteeming narrow-minded, the fathers of the Scottish kirk rejected, even on this most solemn occasion, the form of an address to the Divinity, lest they should be thought to countenance the rituals of Rome or of England. With much better and more liberal judgment, it is the present practice of most of the Scottish clergymen to seize this opportunity of offering a prayer and exhortation, suitable to make an impression upon the living, while they are yet in the very 289 presence of the relics of him whom they have but lately seen such as themselves. The coffin, covered with a pall, and supported upon handspikes by the nearest relatives, now only waited the father, to support the head as is customary. Two or three of these privileged persons spoke to him, but he answered only by shaking his hand and his head in token of refusal. With better intention than judgment, the friends, who considered this as an act of duty on the part of the living, and of decency towards the deceased, would have proceeded to enforce their request, had not Oldbuck interfered between the distressed father and his well-meaning tormentors, and informed them, that he himself, as landlord and master to the deceased, 'would carry his head to the grave.' In spite of the sorrowful occasion, the hearts of the relatives swelled within them at so marked a distinction on the part of the Laird; and old Ailison Breck, who was present among other fish-women, swore almost aloud, His honour Monkbarns should never want sax warp of oysters in the season [of which fish he was understood to be fond], if she should gang to sea and dredge for them hersel, in the foulest wind that ever blew.' And such is the temper of the Scottish common people, that, by this instance of compliance with their customs, and respect for their persons, Mr Oldbuck gained more popularity than by all the sums which he had yearly distributed in the parish for purposes of private or general charity. The sad procession now moved slowly forward, preceded by the beadles, or saulies, with their batonsmiserable-looking old men, tottering as if on the edge of that grave to which they were marshalling another, and clad, according to Scottish guise, with threadbare black coats, and hunting-caps decorated with rusty crape. Monkbarns would probably have remonstrated against this superfluous expense, had he been consulted; but, in doing so, he would have given more offence than he gained popularity by condescending to perform the office of chief-mourner. Of this he was quite aware, and wisely withheld rebuke, where rebuke and advice would have been equally unavailing. In truth, the Scottish peasantry are still infected with that rage for funeral ceremonial, which once distinguished the grandees of the kingdom so much, that a sumptuary law was made by the parliament of Scotland for the purpose of restraining it; and I have known many in the lowest stations, who have denied themselves not merely the comforts, but almost the necessaries of life, in order to save such a sum of money as might enable their surviving friends to bury them like Christians, as they termed it, nor could their faithful executors be prevailed upon, though equally necessitous, to turn to the use and maintenance of the living, the money vainly wasted upon the interment of the dead. The procession to the church-yard, at about half a mile's distance, was made with the mournful solemnity usual on these occasions-the body was consigned to its parent earth-and when the labour of the gravediggers had filled up the trench, and covered it with fresh sod, Mr Oldbuck, taking his hat off, saluted the assistants, who had stood by in mournful silence, and with that adieu dispersed the mourners. A Stormy Sunset by the Seaside.—From The Antiquary.' The sun was now resting his huge disk upon the edge of the level ocean, and gilded the accumulation of towering clouds through which he had travelled the live-long day, and which now assembled on all sides, like misfortunes and disasters around a sinking empire and falling monarch. Still, however, his dying splendour gave a sombre magnificence to the massive congregation of vapours, forming out of the unsubstantial gloom the show of pyramids and towers, some touched with gold, some with purple, some with a hue of deep and dark red. The distant sea, stretched beneath this varied and gorgeous canopy, lay almost portentously still, reflecting back the dazzling and level beams of the descending luminary, and the splendid colouring of the clouds amidst which he was setting. Nearer to the beach, the tide rippled onward in waves of sparkling silver, that imperceptibly, yet rapidly, gained upon the sand. With a mind employed in admiration of the romantic scene, or perhaps on some more agitating topic, Miss Wardour advanced in silence by her father's side. Following the windings of the beach, they passed one projecting point of headland or rock after another, and now found themselves under a huge and continued extent of the precipices by which that iron-bound coast is in most places defended. Long projecting reefs of rock, extending under water, and only evincing their existence by here and there a peak entirely bare, or by the breakers which foamed over those that were partially covered, rendered Knockwinnock bay dreaded by pilots and shipmasters. The crags which rose between the beach and the mainland, to the height of two or three hundred feet, afforded in their crevices shelter to unnumbered sea-fowl, in situations seemingly secured by their dizzy height from the rapacity of man. Many of these wild tribes, with the instinct which sends them to seek the land before a storm arises, were now winging towards their nests with the shrill and dissonant clang which announces disquietude and fear. The disk of the sun became almost totally obscured ere he had altogether sunk below the horizon, and an early and lurid shade of darkness blotted the serene twilight of a summer evening. The wind began next to arise; but its wild and moaning sound was heard some time, and its effect became visible on the bosom of the sea, before the gale was felt on shore. The mass of waters, now dark and threatening, began to lift itself in larger ridges and sink in deeper furrows, forming waves that rose high in foam upon the breakers, or burst upon the beach with a sound resembling distant thunder. Jeanie Deans and Queen Caroline. From The Heart of Mid-Lothian. The queen seemed to acquiesce, and the duke made a signal for Jeanie to advance from the spot where she had hitherto remained, watching countenances which were too long accustomed to suppress all apparent signs of emotion, to convey to her any interesting intelligence. Her majesty could not help smiling at the awe-struck manner in which the quiet, demure figure of the little Scotchwoman advanced towards her, and yet more at the first sound of her broad northern accent. But Jeanie had a voice low and sweetly toned, an admirable thing in woman, and she besought 'her leddyship to have pity on a poor misguided young creature,' in tones so affecting, that, like the notes of some of her native songs, provincial vulgarity was lost in pathos. 'Stand up, young woman,' said the queen, but in a kind tone, and tell me what sort of a barbarous people your country-folk are, where child-murder is become so common as to require the restraint of laws like yours.' 'If your leddyship pleases,' answered Jeanie, 'there are mony places besides Scotland where mothers are unkind to their ain flesh and blood.' George II. and Frederick, Prince of Wales, were then It must be observed that the disputes between at the highest, and that the good-natured part of the public laid the blame on the queen. She coloured highly, and darted a glance of a most penetrating character, first at Jeanie, and then at the duke. Both sustained it unmoved; Jeanie from total unconsciousness of the offence she had given, and the duke from his habitual composure. But in his heart he thought, My unlucky protégée has with this luckless answer shot dead, by a kind of chance-medley, her only hope of success.' Lady Suffolk, good-humouredly and skilfully interposed in this awkward crisis. You should tell this lady,' she said to Jeanie, 'the particular causes which only attach itself to guilt, and even then with cautious render this crime common in your country.' reluctance.' 'Some thinks it's the Kirk-session-that is-it's the -it's the cutty-stool, if your leddyship pleases,' said Jeanie, looking down and courtesying. "The what?" said Lady Suffolk, to whom the phrase was new, and who besides was rather deaf. "That's the stool of repentance, madam, if it please your leddyship,' answered Jeanie, 'for light life and conversation, and for breaking the seventh command.' Here she raised her eyes to the duke, saw his hand at his chin, and, totally unconscious of what she had said out of joint, gave double effect to the innuendo, by stopping short and looking embarrassed. As for Lady Suffolk, she retired like a covering party, which, having interposed betwixt their retreating friends and the enemy, have suddenly drawn on themselves a fire unexpectedly severe. The deuce take the lass, thought the Duke of Argyle to himself; there goes another shot, and she has hit with both barrels right and left! Indeed the duke had himself his share of the confusion, for, having acted as master of ceremonies to this innocent offender, he felt much in the circumstances of a country squire, who, having introduced his spaniel into a well-appointed drawing-room, is doomed to witness the disorder and damage which arises to china and to dress-gowns, in consequence of its untimely frolics. Jeanie's last chance-hit, however, obliterated the ill impression which had arisen from the first; for her majesty had not so lost the feelings of a wife in those of a queen, but that she could enjoy a jest at the expense of 'her good Suffolk.' She turned towards the Duke of Argyle with a smile, which marked that she enjoyed the triumph, and observed, 'The Scotch are a rigidly moral people.' Then, again applying herself to Jeanie, she asked how she travelled up from Scotland. 'Well, my lord,' said her majesty, all these fine speeches do not convince me of the propriety of so soon shewing any mark of favour to your-I suppose I must not say rebellious?-but, at least, your very disaffected and intractable metropolis. Why, the whole nation is in a league to screen the savage and abominable murderers of that unhappy man; otherwise, how is it possible but that, of so many perpetrators, and engaged in so public an action for such a length of time, one at least must have been recognised? Even this wench, for aught I can tell, may be a depositary of the secret.-Hark you, young woman, had you any friends engaged in the Porteous mob?' 'No, madam,' answered Jeanie, happy that the question was so framed that she could, with a good conscience, answer it in the negative. 'But I suppose,' continued the queen, if you were possessed of such a secret, you would hold it a matter of conscience to keep it to yourself?' 'I would pray to be directed and guided what was the line of duty, madam,' answered Jeanie. 'Yes, and take that which suited your own inclinations,' replied her majesty. ; 'If it like you, madam,' said Jeanie, 'I would hae gaen to the end of the earth to save the life of John Porteous, or any other unhappy man in his condition but I might lawfully doubt how far I am called upon to be the avenger of his blood, though it may become the civil magistrate to do so. He is dead and gane to his place, and they that have slain him must answer for their ain act. But my sister, my puir sister, Effie, still lives, though her days and hours are numbered! She still lives, and a word of the king's mouth might restore her to a broken-hearted auld man, that never in his daily and nightly exercise forgot to pray that his majesty might be blessed with a long and prosperous Upon my foot mostly, madam,' was the reply. 'What, all that immense way upon foot? How far reign, and that his throne, and the throne of his posterity, can you walk in a day?' Five-and-twenty miles and a bittock.' might be established in righteousness. O madam, if ever ye kend what it was to sorrow for and with a 'And a what?' said the queen, looking towards the sinning and a suffering creature, whose mind is sae Duke of Argyle. 'And about five miles more,' replied the duke. 'I thought I was a good walker,' said the queen, ‘but this shames me sadly.' "May your leddyship never hae sae weary a heart, that ye canna be sensible of the weariness of the limbs,' said Jeanie. That came better off, thought the duke; it's the first thing she has said to the purpose. And I didna just a'thegither walk the haill way neither, for I had whiles the cast of a cart; and, I had the cast of a horse from Ferrybridge--and divers other easements,' said Jeanie, cutting short her story, for she observed the duke made the sign he had fixed upon. "With all these accommodations,' answered the queen, 'you must have had a very fatiguing journey, and, I fear, to little purpose; since, if the king were to pardon your sister, in all probability it would do her little good, for I suppose your people of Edinburgh would hang her out of spite.' She will sink herself now outright, thought the duke. But he was wrong. The shoals on which Jeanie had touched in this delicate conversation lay underground, and were unknown to her; this rock was above water, and she avoided it. 'She was confident,' she said, 'that baith town and country wad rejoice to see his majesty taking compassion on a poor unfriended creature.' 'His majesty has not found it so in a late instance,' said the queen; but I suppose my lord duke would advise him to be guided by the votes of the rabble themselves, who should be hanged and who spared?' 'No, madam,' said the duke, 'but I would advise his majesty to be guided by his own feelings, and those of his royal consort; and then I am sure punishment will tossed that she can be neither ca'd fit to live or die, have some compassion on our misery!-Save an honest house from dishonour, and an unhappy girl, not eighteen years of age, from an early and dreadful death! Alas! it is not when we sleep soft and wake merrily ourselves that we think on other people's sufferings. Our hearts are waxed light within us then, and we are for righting our ain wrongs and fighting our ain battles. But when the hour of trouble comes to the mind or to the bodyand seldom may it visit your leddyship-and when the hour of death comes, that comes to high and low-lang and late may it be yours!-Oh, my leddy, then it isna what we hae dune for ourselves, but what we hae dune for others, that we think on maist pleasantly. And the thoughts that ye hae intervened to spare the puir thing's life will be sweeter in that hour, come when it may, than if a word of your mouth could hang the haill Porteous mob at the tail of ae tow.' Tear followed tear down Jeanie's cheeks, as, her features glowing and quivering with emotion, she pleaded her sister's cause with a pathos which was at once simple and solemn. "This is eloquence,' said her majesty to the Duke of Argyle. "Young woman,' she continued, addressing herself to Jeanie, 'I cannot grant a pardon to your sister-but you shall not want my warm intercession with his majesty. Take this housewife case,' she continued, putting a small embroidered needle-case into Jeanie's hands; do not open it now, but at your leisure-you will find something in it which will remind you that you have had an interview with Queen Caroline.' Jeanie, having her suspicions thus confirmed, dropped on her knees, and would have expanded herself in gratitude; but the duke, who was upon thorns lest she should say more or less than just enough, touched his chin once more. 'Our business is, I think, ended for the present, my lord duke,' said the queen, and, I trust, to your satisfaction. Hereafter I hope to see your grace more frequently, both at Richmond and St James's.-Come, Lady Suffolk, we must wish his grace good-morning.' They exchanged their parting reverences, and the duke, so soon as the ladies had turned their backs, assisted Jeanie to rise from the ground, and conducted her back through the avenue, which she trod with the feeling of one who walks in her sleep. Storming of Front-de-Bœuf's Castle.-From Ivanhoc.' And I must lie here like a bed-ridden monk,' exclaimed Ivanhoe, 'while the game that gives me freedom or death is played out by the hand of others! Look from the window once again, kind maiden, but beware that you are not marked by the archers beneath. Look out once more, and tell me if they yet advance to the storm.' 'Front-de-Bouf?' exclaimed Ivanhoe. 'Front-de-Boeuf!' answered the Jewess; 'his men rush to the ruscue, headed by the haughty Templartheir united force compels the champion to pause. They drag Front-de-Boeuf within the walls.' The assailants have won the barriers, have they not?' said Ivanhoe. "They have-they have!' exclaimed Rebecca-'and they press the besieged hard upon the outer wall; some plant ladders, some swarm like bees, and endeavour to ascend upon the shoulders of each other-down go stones, beams, and trunks of trees upon their heads, and as fast as they bear the wounded to the rear, fresh men supply their places in the assault. Great God! hast thou given men thine own image, that it should be thus cruelly defaced by the hands of their brethren !' 'Think not of that,' said Ivanhoe; 'this is no time for such thoughts. Who yield?-who push their way?' 'The ladders are thrown down,' replied Rebecca, shuddering; 'the soldiers lie grovelling under them like crushed reptiles. The besieged have the better.' 'Saint George strike for us!' exclaimed the knight; 'do the false yeomen give way?' 'No!' exclaimed Rebecca; 'they bear themselves With patient courage, strengthened by the interval which she had employed in mental devotion, Rebecca again took post at the lattice, sheltering herself, how-right yeomanly-the Black Knight approaches the ever, so as not to be visible from beneath. 'What dost thou see, Rebecca?' again demanded the wounded knight. 'Nothing but the cloud of arrows flying so thick as to dazzle mine eyes, and to hide the bowmen who shoot them.' 'That cannot endure,' said Ivanhoe; if they press not right on to carry the castle by pure force of arms, the archery may avail but little against stone walls and bulwarks. Look for the Knight of the Fetterlock, fair Rebecca, and see how he bears himself; for as the leader is, so will his followers be.' 'I see him not,' said Rebecca. 'Foul craven!' exclaimed Ivanhoe ; 'does he blench from the helm when the wind blows highest?' 'He blenches not! he blenches not!' said Rebecca; 'I see him now; he leads a body of men close under the outer barrier of the barbican.-They pull down the piles and palisades; they hew down the barriers with axes. His high black plume floats abroad over the throng, like a raven over the field of the slain.-They have made a breach in the barriers-they rush in-they are thrust back!-Front-de-Boeuf heads the defenders; I see his gigantic form above the press. They throng again to the breach, and the pass is disputed hand to hand, and man to man. God of Jacob! it is the meeting of two fierce tides-the conflict of two oceans moved by adverse winds!' She turned her head from the lattice, as if unable longer to endure a sight so terrible. Look forth again, Rebecca,' said Ivanhoe, mistaking the cause of her retiring; the archery must in some degree have ceased, since they are now fighting hand to hand.-Look again; there is now less danger.' Rebecca again looked forth, and almost immediately exclaimed: Holy prophets of the law! Front-deBoeuf and the Black Knight fight hand to hand on the breach, amid the roar of their followers, who watch the progress of the strife.-Heaven strike with the cause of the oppressed and of the captive!' She then uttered a loud shriek, and exclaimed:He is down!-he is down!' 'Who is down?' cried Ivanhoe; 'for our dear Lady's sake, tell me which has fallen?' The Black Knight,' answered Rebecca, faintly; then instantly again shouted with joyful eagerness: But no is on foot again, and fights as if there were twenty men's -but no!-the name of the Lord of Hosts be blessed!-he postern with his huge axe-the thundering blows which he deals, you may hear them above all the din and shouts of the battle. Stones and beams are hailed down on the bold champion-he regards them no more than if they were thistle-down or feathers!' By Saint John of Acre,' said Ivanhoe, raising himself joyfully on his couch, methought there was but one man in England that might do such a deed!' 'The postern gate shakes,' continued Rebecca; 'it crashes-it is splintered by his blows-they rush in-the outwork is won. O God!-they hurl the defenders from the battlements-they throw them into the moatO men, if ye be indeed men, spare them that can resist no longer!' 'The bridge-the bridge which communicates with the castle-have they won that pass?' exclaimed Ivanhoe. 'No,' replied Rebecca; 'the Templar has destroyed the plank on which they crossed-few of the defenders escaped with him into the castle-the shrieks and cries which you hear tell the fate of the others. Alas! I see it is still more difficult to look upon victory than upon battle.' JOHN GALT. JOHN GALT, author of The Annals of the Parish and other novels which are valuable as reflecting the peculiarities of Scottish life and manners 'sixty years since,' was a native of Irvine, in Ayrshire. He was born on the 2d of May 1779. His father commanded a West India vessel; and when the embryo novelist was in his eleventh year, the family went to live permanently at Greenock. Here Galt resided fourteen or fifteen years, displaying no marked proficiency at school, but evincing a predilection for poetry, music, and mechanics. He was placed in the custom-house at Greenock, and continued at the desk till about the year 1804, when, without any fixed pursuit, he went to London to 'push his fortune." He had and this he committed to the press; but conscious written a sort of epic poem on the Battle of Largs, of its imperfections, he did not prefix his name to the work, and he almost immediately suppressed it. Galt then formed an unfortunate com strength in his single arm. His sword is broken-he snatches an axe from a yeoman-he presses Front-de-mercial connection, which lasted three years, on Boeuf with blow on blow. The giant stoops and totters like an oak under the steel of the woodman-he fallshe falls!' the termination of which he entered himself of Lincoln's Inn, with the view of being in due time called to the bar. Happening to visit Oxford in |