sive emphasis, strongly mingled with resignation, on these remarkable words:

"Nought's to be got at woman's hand, Unless ye gi'e her a' the plea."

Davie Morrison was equally at home in humouring the hairumskairum drollery of "Duncan Davison," and Sarah Glendinning's "Whistle and I'll come to thee, my joe," evinced at once a thorough knowledge of tryste-making, hallanhaunting, and oiling of locks and hinges, the more effectually to suppress all unpleasant sounds, that otherways might offend the ears of waukrife mammies. But the bay was reserved for Mrs Dinwoodie's brow. She instinctively pitched on the very key that opens "John Anderson, my joe," in the tenderest strain of harmony; and a twitter of delight, that fully divulged the internal satisfaction of her audience, did ample justice to the fidelity of her feelings. But when the good old woman laid her palsied hand on John Dinwoodie's grey head, and sang the connubial benediction, "my blessings on that frosty pow," its endearing tenderness, in unison with the venerable tremor of her voice, for she was full three score, operated so powerfully on the sensibility of all, that the married men and their faithful dames exchanged looks of reciprocal affection, altogether untranslateable; and the young women's eyes met the corresponding glances of their sweethearts, as if by mutual agreement. All would most willingly have exchanged their lilies and roses for matron wrinkles, to partake of the fulness of Nanse Dinwoodie's joy. Such is the influence of language and harmony, when a-kin to each other. Indeed, I have it from very good authority, that all the young women then present had their lads before the minister in less than a twelvemonth.

To eulogize the many charming songs, both comic and sentimental, and tell one half of the queer stories that enlivened John Dinwoodie's fireside, would not only exceed the bounds of my foolscap, but also require the pen of a readier writer; I therefore decline saying one word more on the subject, and beg leave to

inform my fair readers, that Mrs Drummond brought in a pailful of callar Entire from Balachan burn, seated herself by the bride like an experienced dame accustomed to preside on such occasions, and immediately proceeded to business. Now, my dear young countrywomen, have the goodness to picture unto yourselves a blooming damsel on the eve of marriage, seated amongst her kindred and acquaintance, and an elderly handmaid flyping off her stockings, and otherways officiating in the performance of a certain ceremony, that all of you, it is to be hoped, will sooner or later be called upon to undergo. Then draw the likeness of old Roger, groping for a favourite coin, whose singular character the facetious humourist thus delineated: "I'll back thee out against a' the white money i' the south o' Scotland for special gude luck. In mony a bridal pail has thou been since the year fifteen, when I faund thee under Jessy M'Culloch's muckle tae the very night before she was buckled to the young laird o' Glengaebar, and neither lad nor lass that clappit thumb on thee sinsyne at a feet-washing, ever lay their lane that time twelvemonth.'

"I hae often heard tell o' that famous antique o' thine," quo' the gudeman of Balachan; "will ye favour a body wi' a glimpse o't?" "Deed will I," replied the kindly carl, in his usual tone of neighbourly civility, and accordingly produced a small silver piece of the gude King Robert, in a fine state of preservation. John Dinwoodie wiped his spectacles, adjusted them on his temples, and examined Roger's coin with great attention.

"It's a Royal Robin, sure enough," quo' the gudeman of Balachan; "the best and bonniest likeness o' Bruce I ever beheld. Thou was a bauld fallow," continued he, looking stedfastly at the profile, " and mony a bauld billie has stood at thy back; but thou hast fought the gude fight, and the reward o' the brave and the righteous is thine." A fine eulogy, in all probability, would have been delivered to the memory of our great and good king, but for a trifling incident that marred the gudeman's grateful flow of feelings.

On lifting up his eyes, the more reverently to expatiate on the godlike heroism that rescued us all from becoming hewers of wood and drawers of water, he unluckily descried the basket hilt of Adam Dinwoodie's broad sword lashed to a sooty rafter, with an old leather strap, and staring through the smoke, as though upbraiding his lineal descendant with unkindly neglect.

his

The gudeman gradually withdrew eye from an object that seemed to call in question his respect for family renown, only to encounter another equally distressing to a sensitive mind, in the person of his brave forefather's target, divested of its

"brazen studs and tough bull hide, That death so often dash'd aside,"

and serving in the humble capacity

of a lid to the meal-barrel.

Now, these implements of ancient warfare, according to family tradition, belonged to the identical Adam Dinwoodie, who stood at the right hand of a certain knight when he wrote on his crest, "I hae sicker'd him," with the life-blood of the Red Cummin, a circumstance of itself that undoubtedly entitled them to a fair portion of family veneration; and though Adam's claymore had never been used for an unworthy purpose, except in one solitary instance, when that fawning spaniel, blinkin' Dick Pouchwhistle, took it down, awittens of the gudeman, to protect young Gowkbiggin from the wrath of an infuriated population, when foisted on the five boroughs, as their representative in parliament, by a powerful Thane,

ever did a condemned sermon the ulcerated conscience of a reprieved ne'erdoweel in Newgate chapel. He cast his eye alternately on the three antiques with a certain expression of countenance peculiar to the whole family, when aught in the semblance of ingratitude attached itself to their character, and finally deposited the Brucean coin in the pail where Mrs Hannah was bathing his daughter's feet, with the same reverence as though he had been laying aside his bonnet to tak' the beuk.

"Now, Habbie, my bonny man," quo' Mrs Dinwoodie, come hither and grapple ance mair for good luck." "Troth will I, gudewife," replied Halbert, with much simplicity ;"haith I'm unco gleg at that sort o' wark."

"And sae will I, wi' the bride's leave," quo' Roger Lindsay; " our is no knowing how soon she may slip Sarah has long been ailing, and there the head. Whare's the harm in looking before a body's nose, and providing against the dispensations o' Providence ?" "Hear to the auld grey gouk," exclaimed Aggie Dinwoodie;

haith I am sair mista'en if Sarah disna see that tottering tabernacle o thine pass the hallan heels foremost. Now, Roger, bide awa; the deil be here gin thae auld fizenless fingers come to grape among my taes ;-the very thrimble o' them would gie a body's feet the cramp." But Roger hands dashed into the pail at once, was not to be gainsaid; and a dozen visitants to enjoy the pleasing hope of so anxious were all our uncoupled being first buckled an anxiety, no doubt, infused into our very nature, for a wise purpose.

To translate the many laughs, and winks, and giggles, that enlivened the Grange hearth on that memorable occasion, is far beyond the compass of my skill; and to describe the humorous scramble that ensued, for obvious reasons, shall never be attempted by me. Suffice it, therefore, to say, that Harmless Habbie captured the ominous prize, amid the congratulation of all present. Habbie, will ye ha'e me?" exclaimed Jenny Macmillan ; "it's weel kent I'm nae provost's dochter. Auld aunty has a guid lock siller i' the laird's hand, forbye a goupin o' minted

"Dinna believe a word the braggart says," quo' Leesie Gillespie; "my word, her aunty's a feerie auld dame; there's anither bee bizzing in her lug, than leaving gowpins o' gould, and scores o' gimmers, to bonnie Jenny Macmillan, as she ca's hersel. If I rightly understand the glint o' aunty's e'e, when Johnny Crummie, the Kirkmahoe elder, comes owre the bent, he has little else to do, honest man, but just go through the ceremony o' speering her price. But come awa hame wi' me, Habbie; I'm an only dochter, ye ken; and tho' I shoudna say't before every body, there's a peg for thy bonnet, and a stool for thy latter-end, in the coziest neuk o' a fou hauddin."

"Laying joking aside athegither," observed Roger Lindsay, "I'll lay a grey groat on Habbie's head that he makes sure o' some honest man's bairn before Beltan,"-a saying that added not a little to the mirth of his audience. But notwithstanding the great good humour that prevailed, our younkers were secretly nettled at the idea of a daft man falling in with such luck, for the fame of Roger's Royal Robin, as a sure foreteller of matrimonial alliance, was well established; and a few loose hints to that effect, thrown out in a manner that apparently stung Habbie's pride-and he at times was somewhat ticklish to deal with-induced him to sue for leave of absence in his usual brief manner, "it's wearing late, gudewife;" the sum total of Halbert's oration, when he felt an inclination for the barn. Adam Dinwoodie put his stable lanthron in a state of requisition, the bride slipped on her shoon, and away they went, arm-in arm, with Harmless Habbie, to his apartment. I believe nothing further, worthy of particular remark,

DURING the late stormy weather, damage to an almost unexampled extent has been done to the shipping on our coasts. The feathered tribe has also suffered in a peculiar manner, if we may judge from the observation of the keepers at the Bell Rock and other Northern Light-house stations. It may be mentioned, that scarcely a season passes in which flocks of foreign, or migratory birds, while fluttering round the Light-houses, during severe gales of wind, particularly from the north-east, are not seen and caught, when they are driven in flocks from the coast of Norway; but it is seldom that the glass of the light-rooms is broken by their striking against it. In the course of the last month, however, a woodcock came with such force against the glass at the Bell Rock, that the bird went through it like a shot, and the pieces of broken glass did considerable damage to the fine polished surface of three or four of the reflectors. The glass is very thick and strong, and the poor bird was found lying quite dead in one of the reflectors. This happened about three o'clock in the morning, when the lightkeeper on watch was panic-struck with the noise of broken glass, which showered down upon him in such a manner, that he imagined the whole house was breaking up. The force with which this bird darted upon the

glass, after a flight of perhaps 450 miles from the opposite coast of Norway, must appear truly astonishing, when it is considered that the panes of plate-glass, though measuring about 30 inches square, are no less than of an inch in thickness. During the same gale, the light-keepers caught about seven dozen birds, which they describe as resembling thrushes and blackbirds, but which probably belonged to the genus Tringa of Linnæus. On these the secluded light-keepers feasted for five or six days. Among the small birds, a pigeon was also caught; it has been preserved alive, and seems to have taken a fancy for this solitary abode; for though it is allowed to fly about, it always returns to the light-house. The Bell Rock Light-house, our readers will recollect, is situated on a sunk rock off Arbroath, and twelve miles from the nearest land.

It may be added, that about the same time a great flock of birds visited the Start-Point Light-house at Sanday, in Orkney. A wild duck, species not known, darted through the glass, and did considerable damage to two of the reflectors; and here also a great number of small birds were caught, and made into pies by the light-keepers. At the Isle of Man Light-houses, during very foggy weather, in the month of October last, many thousands of small birds came fluttering about the Light-houses, and were caught in great numbers.

It is perfectly ascertained, that these flocks of birds are chiefly from the higher latitudes on the continent; and though they are occasionally much emaciated and weakened with their flight, yet other flocks of them have been found fat and in good condition; from which last circumstance, it would appear, that their flight to this country is often performed in a very short period.

So attractive does the light prove to migrating birds, that at some of the French Light-houses it has been found necessary to cover the lightroom windows with trellis work. In order to avoid obstructing the light in this manner, the glass of the Northern Light-houses is made strong enough to resist breaking by the smaller birds, and even, in most cases, by those of a larger size.

REALITIES AND IMAGINATIONS. "This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a steril promontory." Hamlet.

THE philosophers who would prove that the whole system of material things exists only in imagination, reason too curiously. Common sense has, however, been injudiciously appealed to for a refutation. In such a controversy, common sense has no firm ground for her massy throne. "Bright as the bow that spans the storm, In Erin's yellow vesture clad, A son of light-a lovely form,

He comes and makes her glad. Now on the grass-green turf he sits, His tassell'd horn beside him laid;

Now o'er the hills in chase he flits,

The hunter and the deer a shade !"

You would not appeal to the hunter to prove the deer a shade, or to the deer to prove the hunter a shade. They are inaccessible on the subject. If, then, this goodly frame, the earth, exists only in our imagination, the doughty advocates of its reality can never quit their own shadowy elements, and fight as if they were clothed with flesh and bones. Cicero adopts as pleasant and as conclusive an argument against those who denied the immortality of the soul, as one could wish to have in any controversy: Nec mihi hunc errorem, quo delector, dum vivo, extorqueri volo. sin mortuus, ut quidam minuti philosophi censent, nihil sentiam, non vereor ne hunc errorem meum mortui philosophi irrideant. "I choose not to be refuted while I live, and when I die, if my soul be not immortal, I cannot be ridiculed by those philosophical wiseacres whose souls must be mortal like mine." This sort of entrenchment might be very sagely thrown up by one who was just about to adopt the doctrines of the Immaterialists. "I am fully persuaded, that this world exists only in imagination, and this persuasion I am determined to maintain. In this persuasion, I am as secure from refutation as from ridicule, for if matter exists not, the common-sense-men can derive no more assistance from it than I can." But this is not the topic of my consideration

"Non hæc jocosæ conveniunt lyræ. Quò, Musa, tendis? Desine pervicax Referre sermones Deorum, et

Magna modis tenuare parvis."

The profound controversy respecting the existence or non-existence of matter, is now as much neglected as the controversy of the eternal procession. It is in its nature too remote from human apprehension to be generally intelligible or permanently interesting. No church or state became dependent on its dogmas, and it sunk like a straw when the wind totally ceases. Opinions and controversies, when left unclothed by institutions which flatter vanity or promote ambition, like Hamlet's ghost, "scent the morning air," and vanish. But human nature is unchangeable. The same passions, the same operations of hope and fear, of love and hatred, of gratitude and resentment, characterize our species in every age and in every clime. All the materials of history are supplied, not by variations in our nature, but by various modifications of our circumstances;--not by alterations in our passions, but by changes in our manners. The same passions which prompted Romulus to kill Remus, still induce one brother to file a bill in chancery, in order to divest another brother of his father's estate. The same phantasy, or rather, the same imagination, which urged Germanicus to penetrate the forests of Germany, and to encounter all the perils of impassable lands and unknown regions, still impel a Grey to maintain the principles of Fox, and to brave all the insolent virulence of ministers, and all the fatuous clamour of the mob.

Of this unchangeable nature of ours, imagination is indeed the grand controller. Imagination, as opposed to reality, is the spring of action, the standard of improvement, and the dispenser of rewards and punishments. View the whole of our species during any given period of time; mark their objects of pursuit, their exertions to obtain them, and their final achievements; measure, then, with precision their "pleasures of hope" and their actual enjoyments. It will be found, that all realities are imaginary, and all imaginations real. But truths of this nature, though the most obvious in themselves, and familiar to all men, are not easily made tangible to the apprehension by any arrangement of words. Take, then, an instance from one of the liberal

VOL. X.

professions, and, as not the least interesting, from the clerical profession in Scotland. A youth pants for the distinction of the gown in one of the colleges of the land. Real are his anticipated joys while confidently looking forward to this eminence. He obtains it. Stops he to enjoy any one of the feelings which he anticipated as almost heavenly? Not a moment. The tide, arrived at its height, begins instantly to recede, and thus to prepare for a second flow. The anticipation was real delight; the actual enjoyment exists not. But instead, comes another anticipation, not less gratifying or less real. He sees the rays of happiness converge on the pulpit. Thither he presses his steps with all the reality of enjoyment. Arrived there, he finds no reality, but instantly wings his flight towards a further object-the blissful instalment in a living, all his own. Here, alas! his anticipations are less pure and less honourable, for they rest not on his own exertions. This lot has all the misery of maidenhood, without its modesty or native pride. But the possession is not final satisfaction. Perhaps there are not, however, many feelings more comfortable to an independent and generous mind, than those which affect him who secretly says or sings,

"This manse is my own; here I have a shelter for my life, from the buffetings of fortune and the reverses of human affairs. This church is appropriated for my religious exertions, as the instructor and guide of the whole parish. I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.'" But this transport is but momentary. The spot which delights as the summit of a steep ascent, soon becomes but the verge of an extended and unvaried level. The obtaining a wife, the furnishing the manse, the stocking his farm, and the selection of his texts, may form ulterior summits in his horizon; but these must soon cease to be novel, and the reverend incumbent must conjure up, in the distance, a height sublime, whether of rivalling Dr Robertson, or of surpassing Dr Blair;-or he must sink the degraded victim of little cares, mean jealousies, and grovelling artifices. The worst circumstance in this profession is, that hope dies on

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