Diary and Chronology. Wednesday, Feb. 29. St. Oswald, b. of Worcester, and Archbishop of High Water, Oh, 37m. Morn. 4h. Om. aftern. Thursday, March 1. St. David, archbishop and patron of Wales, A. D. 544. Sun rises 35m. aft. 6-Sets 26m, aft. 5. March, month of "many weathers," wildly comes In hail, and snow, and rain, and threatening hums, T And floods ;-while often at his cottage-door, The origin of Welchmen wearing Leeks this day, is explained in the following ancient lines found in an old MS. in the British Museum. LINES ON THE LEEK. I like the Leeke, above all herbes and flowers, The Leeke is white and greene, whereby is ment Friday, March 2. St. Charles the Good, E. of Flanders. m. New Moon, 14m af. 3 after. March 2, 1791.-The Rev. John Wesley died.One who knew this eminently pious leader of the sect called Methodists, speaks of him thus:"If usefulness be excellence, if public good is the chief object of attention in public characters, Mr. John Wesley will long be remembered as one of the best of inen, as he was for more than fifty years the most diligent and indefatigable." Saturday, March 3. St. Winvalo, ab. 529. High Water 50m, aft 2. Mor.-8m. aft. 3 after. The whistle of the blackbird from the bush, and the mellow note of the throstle perched on the naked bough of some lofty tree, are heard from the beginning of the month; at the same time, the ring-dove cooes in the woods. The rookery is now all in motion with the labour of building and repairing nests; and highly amusing it is to observe the tricks and artifices of this thievish tribe, some to defend, and others to plunder, the materials of their new habitations. These birds are falsely accused of doing much injury to the farmers, by plucking up the young corn and other springing vegetables; but this mischief is fully repaid by their diligence in picking up the grubs of various insects, which, if suffered to grow to maturity, would occasion much greater damage. Sunday, March 4. QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY. Lessons for the Day.-9 ch. of Genesis, to ver. 20. morn. 12 ch. of Genesis, even. SPRING COLDS. There cannot be 'much fear of the person, who like Spenser's March (Faerie Queene, vii. 7.) shall bend his brow to the blast, and shall dig his rood of land, and sow his bushel of seed, whether the bleak North or the biting East wind scatter consumption and death among the feeble inmates of the parlour, or the half-famished tenants of the hut or the garret.Free exposure to every wind that blows, provided always that requisite clothing and active exercise be attended to, will do more to banish coughs and consumptions, than all the fox-glove or Iceland-moss that ever grew, or all the bleeding, blistering, or Long rubbings that were ever tried. Confine yourself to a warm parlour, and you will shudder at every blast, and probably catch a bad cough or a cold fever at every slight -change of weather, and will find it dangerous to venture out of doors, during the cold and chilly days of winter and spring; but by free exposure and brisk exercise, you may learn to set the weather at defiance, and put on the vigorous and healthy look of the young Spring, instead of the church-yard cough and undermining fever of age and debility.-PROFESSOR RENNIE'S NOTES OF A NATURALIST. Monday, March 5. St. Roger, conf. A. D. 1236. Sun rises 27m. aft. 6 Morn.-Sets 34m. aft. 5. There are frequently mornings at this season of the year when a lover of nature may enjoy, in a strole, sensations not to be exceeded or perhaps equalled by auy thing which the full glory of summer can awaken: mornings which tempt us to cast the memory of winter, or the fear of its return, out of our thoughts. The air is mild and balmy, with, now and then, a cool gush by no means unpleasant, but, on the contrary, contributing towards that cheering and peculiar feeling which we experience only in Spring. Tuesday, March 6. Vesta festum. Cathedra Julii.-Rom. Cal. High Water 35m. aft. 4 Mor.-51m. aft. 4 after. This feast day of Vesta must not be confounded with the Vestalia celebrated June the 9th. There seems some confusion about the identification of this goddess. Considered as Patroness of Vestal Virgins, and Goddess of Fire, she is said to be daughter of Saturn and Rhea. Eneas first introduced her mysteries into Italy; and Numa made a temple to her, in which none but virgins entered. Hence cloistered Catholic 'virgins are by some people metaphorically called Vestals. Part 54 is now ready, also Vols 1 to 8. See p. 163 I was then lying close beside Blanch, but had been awake some time before him; and, by the light of a fire which we had kindled previous to repose, I had been watching the face of the fair boy as it expressed the passing emotions of his nind, when lapsing through the mysterious changes of his dream. ""Twas but a dream,' exclaimed young Blanch, starting from sleep upon the cold ground, where we bivouacked, on the night before the storming of At first, his still pale features exhibitBadajos. And can man sleep sounded the blessed calm of a pure and peacemethinks I hear the reader ask-in such circumstances as these? Yes, if mind and body be as they ought, the soldier on his clay couch on the battle eve, and the sailor cradled on the surge, and rocked by the storm, enjoy a repose which luxury never knew, and which monarchs sigh for in vain. VOL. IX. ful sleep. Anon, they became gently moved, like the moonlit lake by the passing breath of night, and at length were gradually lighted up with a smile so celestial, that I could fancy his spirit was basking in the beams of Heaven. The night-flame played with its wavering glare upon his face, whose beauty 233 thus broke forth in fitful gleams, even as the faces of departed friends come back upon our slumbers in glimpses from the grave. The sight of the sleeping youth reminded me of that most exquisite of Campbell's lyrics, "The Soldier's Dream." "Happy boy," thought I, "while thy young frame is lying on the cold clay, thy spirit hath a sweet reprieve from the horrors of war, and, is even now, perchance, far away in. thy own land, where the smiles of friends, and the caresses of thy little sister, receive thee back to thy father's halls, where there is joy for thy return, and where thy mother is weeping thy welcome home." My soliloquy was suddenly broken, for Blanch awakened with a start, and looking round him with a wild and forlorn gaze, sobbed out,-" "Twas but a dream." "It seems to have been a pleasant one, however, if I may judge from the regretful tone of your words on wakening," said I, not without a feeling of curiosity to know in what its happiness had consisted. "It was indeed," rejoined my friend, "but brief as it was blest-so it is soon told. I am now about that age when it is supposed we are most susceptible of the tender passion; yet have I never felt love for woman till this night, when such a being as seemed wanting to me in the waking world was given to me in sleep. Oh! she was so passing fair, and so seraphlike! Nay, smile not, because it was a dream. I, too, can smile at dreams, but in this instance the form and features of the unknown were so distinctly delineated, and shadowed forth with such arbitrary truth, as never belonged to the formations of mere fancy, and can never be effaced from my brain. I do believe-nay, I feel certain, that such a being somewhere exists; and to see her with waking eyes, and find favour in her sight, I would willingly lay down my life." I could not help smiling at this burst of boyish enthusiasm, and at what appeared to me the very mockery of imagination-by which the bewitched Blanch had become enamoured of the phantom of his own brain, and was incurably in love with the lady of a dream; but had I been the most incredulous and cruel interpreter of midnight mysteries, I could not have found in my heart to apply the rule of explaining by contraries these dark hints of the future, and boding ill to poor Blanch, because the vision of a beautiful girl had soothed his slumbers on the eve of storming a city-an event which took place on the following night. Talk of war-that is, of war in the open field-where man meets man on an equality, where the chances of death are inuch alike, where valour may avail, and where there is something like fair play-but the storming of strong holds is unmasked murderand the sack of cities the revelry of the furies. That of Badajos was a festival for fiends. The eternal foe himself-the immortal enemy of man might have gloated over it, and smiled at his own fair work; and if ever laughter was heard in hell, it was surely on that night of horror. Bastions and parapets bristled with chevaux-de-frise of sharp-pointed irons bayonets-sword-blades, and every kind of deadly obstruction, which met our troops, as one by one they scaled walls of more than thirty feet high, and in succession were shot, bayoneted, and hurled back into the ditches below. I have heard it said that Wellington himself appeared much agitated, as by the death-flames which illumined the horrors of the night, he saw his troops foiled in their desperate and successive efforts against almost superhuman obstacles-but that a lightning gleam of triumph flushed over his face, and an exclamation of "Thank God!" escaped him, when an aide-de-camp galloped up with this brief announcement"My lord, General Picton is in the castle with a thousand men. I said he was enabled to see how matters went on by the death-lights which illumined the darkness-for, from breach and bastion, hand-grenades, blazing bombs, and all manner of combustibles, rolled down like a volcano torrent-while a tempest of shot and shell rung through the air, like the rushing of a mighty whirlwind-and when at length an entrance into the town was forced by our troops, over steel-hedged walls, and breaches vomiting floods of fire-mines ready to be sprung yawned beneath their trembling path, and they swept along through the gloom, amid roaring of cannon, shouts of victory and vengeance, blasts of bugles singing the charge, and shrieks of the sacked city, all rending the midnight sky, like a chorus from hell. The work of destruction was nearly over, when I found myself with a party of our men in one of the more retired streets, in passing along which we suddenly encountered some French soldiers in the act of quitting a large and noble-looking mansion, where the love of plunder had induced them to linger somewhat too long-for in an instant they were bayoneted by our troops against the walls. It was then that, thinking I heard the voice of moaning within, I entered the house a large but dimly-lighted apartment lay before me, into which I advanced, and by the flame of the glimmering lamp, beheld the body of a young lady stretched upon the floor, and that of a British officer extended by her side. Approaching and holding the lamp to the face of the former, I looked upon a creature lovely in death, although her features bore the expression of recent agony; and her hair all clotted with blood, streamed down over her bosom, from which the warm current of her heart had gushed through a ghastly wound. I then turned the lamp to the face of the officer, in whom, with a start of horror, I recognised my poor friend Blanch, steeped in blood, and though he still breathed, it was evident his wounds were mortal, and that his end was near. In a short time, however, he opened his eyes, and gazing on my face, held out his hand in token of recognition. The only restorative which I had about me was a little brandy in a flask, which I applied to his lips, and in a few minutes he rallied so much as to be able to speak, and thank me; and with his dying breath to explain the circumstances in which I had found him. They were to the following effect. After an entrance into the town had been effected, in rushing along the streets with a party of his regiment, during the confusion of the scene and the darkness of the night, Blanch was separated from them, and after a long and fruitless search, found himself at the door of the house in which we then were. Hearing a noise within, he suspected that some of our soldiers might be plundering; with the view of preventing which, he entered, at the hazard of his life, and had just reached the room where he then lay, when a door at the opposite end of it flew open, and in breathless terror, as if flying from pursuit, a young Spanish lady rushed into the room. Upon seeing the stranger she made a sudden pause, during which, with mute amazement, he recognised in the fair girl before him the living form of her whose shadowy similitude had appeared in his slumbers on the preceding night; but tenfold was that amazement increased, when, ere he could speak, she exclaimed, with wild energy, "Mysterious heaven! It is he-'tis he himself!—the very being of my dream, who appeared to me last night, and is now come to take me away from the horrors of this dreadful place!" At that moment, and before he could reply, a party of the enemy who had been searching the house in quest of pillage, burst into the room, and the sight of a British officer on such an occasion, so exasperated the marauders, that, setting up a savage yell, they flew upon him with their bayonets, and the poor Spanish girl, who threw herself between them and their victim, received her death-wound at the same moment with him she tried to save. Blanch could say no more-his tale was told, and his life was fast ebbing away-his speech faltered-his voice sunk into a whisper, and the signs of death were upon him. He motioned me to raise his head, which I had no sooner done than his eyes began to fix in the death-glaze, and drawing in his breath for the last time, with a long deep sigh he expired. He sleeps in the same grave with his beautiful unknown-for unknown to each other they had lived-had seen each other only in a vision, and had loved in a dream, and on a night of storm and death they met in this waking world only to be parted for ever. Have they not met in heaven? Edin. Lit. Jour. done, SPRING. BY THE author of CORN-LAW RHYMER.' thorn ! Whose dewdrops shall illume with pearly Each grassy blade that thick embattled stands light From sea to sea, while daisies infinite Uplift in praise their little glowing bands, O'er every hill that under heav'n expands. New Mon, THE SCOTCH BORDERERS. THE lives of the petty chieftains of the Scottish Borders, were a tissue of desperate conflicts, daring schemes, and wily stratagems; they were almost incessantly occupied either in aggression or defence, and when a short space was snatched for domestic indulgence, inordinate wassail and savage hospitality claimed this moment of repose. An anecdote or two of one of the most celebrated of these "Lords of misrule," will give a faithful view of this bold spirit of adventure, prompt and decisive action, and ingenious devices for avoiding danger, which characterised this extraordinary class of men. "In the reign of Charles the First, when the moss-trooping practices were not entirely discontinued, the tower of Gilnockie, in the parish of Cannoby, was occupied by William Armstrong, called for distinction's sake, Christie's Will, a lineal descendant of the famous John Armstrong of Gilnockie, executed by James the Fifth. The hereditary love of plunder had descended to this person with the family mansion, and upon some marauding party, he was seized and imprisoned in the tolbooth of Jedburgh. The Earl of Traquair, Lord High Treasurer, happening to visit Jedburgh, and knowing Christie's Will, enquired the cause of his confinement. Will replied he was imprisoned for stealing two tethers (halters) but upon being more closely interrogated, acknowledged that there were two delicate colts at the end of them. The joke, such as it was, amused the earl, who exerted his interest, and succeeded in releasing Christie's Will from bondage. Some time afterwards, a law-suit of importance to Lord Traquair was to be decided in the Court of Session, and there was every reason to believe that the judgment would turn upon the voice of the presiding judge, who has a casting vote in case of an equal division among his brethren. The opinion of the president was unfavourable to Lord Traquair, and the point was therefore to keep the judge out of the way, when the question should be tried. In this dilemma the earl had recourse to Christie's Will, who at once offered his service to kidnap the president. Upon due scrutiny, he found it was the judge's practice frequently to take air on horseback on the sands of Leith, without an attendant. In one of these excursions, Christie's Will, who had long watched his opportunity, ventured to accost the president, and engage him in conversation. His address and language were so amusing, that he decoyed the president into an unfrequented and furzy common, called the Frigate Whins, where, riding suddenly up to him, he pulled him from his horse, muffled him in a large cloak which he had provided, and rode off with the luckless judge trussed up behind him. Will crossed the country with great expedition, by paths only known to persons of his description, and deposited his weary and terrified burden in an old castle in Annandale, called the Tower of Graham. The judge's horse being found, it was concluded he had thrown his rider into the sea; his friends went into mourning, and a successor was appointed to his office. Meanwhile the poor president spent a heavy time in the vault of the castle. He was imprisoned and solitary, receiving his food through an aperture in the wall, and never hearing the sound of a human voice, save when a shepherd called his dog by the name of Battie, and when a female domestic called upon Maudge the cat. These he concluded were invocations of spirits, for he held himself to be in the dungeon of a sorcerer. At length, after three months had elapsed, the lawsuit was decided in favour of Lord Traquair, and Will was directed to set the president at liberty. Accordingly, he entered the vault at dead of night, seized the president, muffled him once more in the cloak, without speaking a single word, and using the same mode of transportation, conveyed him to Leith Sands, and set down the astonished judge on the very spot where he had taken him up. The joy of his friends, and the less agreeable surprise of his successor, may be easily conceived when he appeared in court to reclaim his office and honours. All embraced his own persuasion that he had been spirited away by witchcraft, nor could he himself be convinced of the contrary, until many years afterwards, happening to travel in Annandale, his ears were saluted once more with the sounds of Maudge and Battie the only notes which had solaced his long confinement. This led to a discovery of the whole story; but in these disorderly times it was only laughed at as a fair ruse de guerre." Wild and strange as this tradition may seem, there is little doubt of its foundation in fact. The judge upon whose person 66 |