midst of this, and when Montgomery was taking his part with exquisite taste and masterly skill, that a servant slipped into his hand a note which had been just delivered to him. He held it with the air of one totally abstracted in his occupation, until it was Bessy's turn to respond, as she did with power equal to his own; then he ventured to snatch one hasty glance at its superscription. It seemed to contain a deadly spell-his very reason appeared to fail him-he staggered to the door, to the astonishment of all present, and seizing his hat, and seeming to fly from their attentions, rushed with the speed of madness to the stable yard, mounted his saddled horse and galloped furiously Often after that night, did Montgomery curse the perfections of the animal which carried him, that he dashed him not to atoms on the rough roads which he passed. On, on he rode, pushing him at the height of his speed, nor pulled a rein till he arrived at the Gray's cottage. It was already an hour past midnight, when he paused scarce knowing where he was, and having come so far without fixed purpose or intent. All around was calm and quiet, in awful contrast to the tumult that raged within him. The farmer and his household had long retired to rest; yet there was one sleepless being within that heard the horse and guessed at its rider. It was a moment of fearful excitement, and having almost mechanically led the reeking animal to a stall, he struck his hand against his forehead, and endeavoured to regain the composure which he appeared to have utterly lost. That he soon found was, at the moment, hopeless; and fearful of himself, frantic and distracted as he was, he determined to await the morning ere he sought admission at the cottage. He wandered round the environs of the farm, and as each familiar spot recurred to his eye beneath the clear moonlight, which he had trod so often with the lost, the loving Mary, he imprecated the deepest curses upon his own devoted head. At length the night clouded as if in unison with his thoughts, the moon disappeared from the heavens, the storm rose a pace, the rain descended thick, drifting, and violent. Involuntarily he bared his head and bosom to its assaults, and felt, for the moment, the first relief from frenzy. But in its place came reason, once more calm and cool, and he felt he had but awakened to a clearer sense of his misery. The lightning began to flash, and as its transitory brightness aided the grey glimmering of morning, he traced the expressions of the almost forgotten note. Deadly sickness came over him-a spasmodic shudder—a gravelike chill-and, staggering to a stable door, he sunk senseless beneath his steed upon the straw. The farmer was, as usual, the first astir, and on going out was surprised to see that door but half-closed. He entered hastily, and was horror-smitten at the spectacle within. There lay Montgomery, as if in the grasp of a cruel and violent death, his throat and breast still bare, his face distorted, his hands clenched, his hair damp and dishevelled. On closer examination, the farmer was rejoiced to discover that life yet remained: : and being somewhat skilled in surgery, a power which his retired situation often called into practice-he bore his patient to the cottage, and having bled him freely, used every means to recal the existence which seemed so fast ebbing. Nor were they long without effect; and whilst he bent over him, anxiously watching their progress, and having administered a gentle opiate, laid him in his own bed, and sat him down by the side, he gave up his mind to innumerable conjectures upon the cause which might have reduced Montgomery to such a fearful situation. His horse might have taken fright, and fled to a haunt once so familiar. He might have been attacked by ruffians, with whom the forest was said occasionally to abound, and fled for protection to his house, whilst the violence of their assaults, or the exhaustion of fatigue, would account for his having been found insensible. These, and a thousand such accidents, his imagination speedily suggested; but they were soon discarded successively, and as it were by instinct, his fears settled finally on the truth-that all he saw was connected, though he guessed not how, with the interests of his beloved daugh ter. Instantly he sought her chamber.She heard with little surprise, that Montgomery was in the house; but was deeply shocked to learn his pitiable condition. She accompanied her father to his bedside, and along with him watched over the wretched being it contained, with a deep intensity of emotion, until a long drawn sigh and violent contortion at length betokened his reviving sense, and then, in bitterness and misery, she glided back to her own apartment. The farmer, in the mean time, had resumed his painful reverie. During the last three months he had laboured under continual anxiety and doubt, concerning the lovers' unaccountable separation, and had latterly yielded to dark suspicions as to the purity of Montgomery's intentions, whose unworthiness he believed his daughter might have earlier detected and acted accordingly. Even his present compassion could not prevent their growing form; and it is not then to be wondered at, that when at length the patient opened his eyes, and rolled them wildly round ere he could recollect and account for his present situation, which he finally testified by grasp ing convulsively the hand of his kind physician, that the latter replied to his wistful look, by saying abruptly, "Mr. Montgomery, I am a plain spoken man, and you must not be offended by my asking, what brought you here, or rather was it to marry my daughter that you came?" excitement, he received and obeyed the summons-and they met. But alas! how changed was the fair crea ture before him, from the bright young being he had once known and loved, in the beauty of opening womanhood, in the charms of happy innocence, in the spring-day of health and hope, almost a stranger to care, and possessing within herself a world of fascination, and of peace. Now, that cheek was lighted up as brilliantly as ever- but it was with a hectic flush; that eye was as bright—but with the glaze of disease; that brow was as eminently fair but with the wan pallor of death. What passed during that sad interview never transpired to any. His voice had been elevated in the various tones of supplication, of passion, and of anguish; even his bitter sobs were heard distinctly through the cottage. She had always spoken in the lowest accents of calm resolution and collected dignity. At length there was a long pause-there was one heart-breaking groan-the door opened, and Montgomery rushed to the stable, and, having thrown himself on his horse, and galloped furiously to Omagh, called wildly for a post-chaise, and took the road to Dublin. There were no tidings of him afterward for many a week, save a hasty note to his friend, apologizing for his abrupt departure. It were idle to detail the innumerable conjectures and rumours in the neighbourhood concerning his strange conduct the preceding evening, and his sudden and mysterious disappearance. Idler far were the hope of describing the woelul feelings of the terrified, the forsaken Bessy. She had just learnt what it was to love, and be beloved, when the cup of happiness was dashed from her lips; she had just felt the full brightness of the vision, when it vanished from her straining gaze. wilder than before, and his brow wore the ravages of illness, and the traces alike of harrowing affliction and deep despair. What had brought him thither he dared not to ask himself. Could it be to look once more on the waste, the ruin he had made? He partook of some refreshment, and prepared to resume his lonely way. As he awaited the appearance of his horse, the church-bell threw sullenly on the air its awful lament of death. He listened calmly for a moment, then burying his face in his hands, yielded himself up to the succession of bitter emotions that those sounds inspired; and the groom had summoned him thrice ere he started from his sad reverie. He mounted, rode slowly up the street, and saw the mournful paraphernalia of mortality enter the church-yard as he was about to pass. Under an involuntary impulse he paused, and moved after the sorrowful crowd toward the gate. He thought he heard some whispers of his name in the procession, but was too deeply abstracted to listen with much attention. At length he reached the gate-there was, immediately within, a newly dug grave, and the coffin was being lowered from the hearse. As he gazed almost unconsciously around-suddenly, like the lightning's flash-he caught the chief mourner's eye-that chief mourner was farmer Gray, and in that glance what was there not conveyed! It seemed to pierce him to the heart, and turning round instantaneously, he fled with the mad speed of the criminal, down the precipitate hill, and whither? -and wherefore? * That terrible evening, Bessy was sitting in a little arbour which Montgomery's hands and her own had raised in happier days, and she looked on the last beams of the setting sun, and thought how the wit and merriment of which she was then the mistress were now as faint and evanescent as the expiring glories on which she gazed. Then her ideas, as they wandered in a pensive strain, reverted to her happy school-days, to her beloved companion in them all. Oh! if she had known that the faithful, the wellremembered, the once lovely being, was at that very moment being consigned as dust to dust. Suddenly there was a step-there was a voice, and in another instant she was folded in the arms of Montgmery! It was a long-an impassioned, as it had been an involuntary caress. At length it was over, and tears, while they relieved her, prevented her for a while from observing the ghastly, the frantic expression of him who still wildly gazed upon her. But it could not be longer unnoticed, and terrified and horrorstruck-"What means that look ?" she exclaimed. "Oh, dearest Frederick, you have never yet recovered from the shock of that awful night," and he burst into a new passion of tears. "In truth," he replied slowly, and gasping for breath, "in truth it was a fearful shock; and the next day" he paused, and added convulsively—" the next day I was to have asked you to marry me. Oh Bessy! dearest, bestbeloved, would you have been the wife of the "Murderer" he would have added, but he sunk powerless on the ground. After a considerable interval he revived. A servant was chafing his temples. Bessy stood near, intensely occupied with a paper she held, while her eye glanced from line to line with wild rapidity. It was the manuscript from which some of the leading facts I have related were originally extracted, and as Montgomery started up, and caught the reader's eye, she would have fallen had he not folded her in his arms. He laid her tenderly on the ground-staggered a few yards from the spot-there was the report of a pistol and all was over. She recovered but too speedily to hear that deadly sound. She rushed to the fatal spot, and threw herself on the bleeding and mangled corpse. At length she was torn away, borne to the house, and laid in her bed under the rage of a delirious fever. Long was her existence hopeless. But joy was in every countenance, when after nineteen days there was a plain and evident improvement. Then came a few lucid intervals, during which who would not have wept with her? And then a relapse. And after two months she rose from that bed an unconscious idiot. It were impossible to describe the emotions with which I listened to this deeply pathetic tale. Two mountains, as I have said, serve to keep up its recollection amidst the scenes of its sad occurrences; and the weatherwise of the neighbourhood have been often heard to remark, that any menaces from the object of their study, are still earliest indicated by the gloom that gathers around Mary Gray; while in the darkest hours of the showery season, of spring or autumn, if any spot around would seem to indicate a brighter prospect, it is ever the green and sunny summit of Bessy Bell. TITHES. nor agitate, nor crouch submissively like sycophants, to the will of every variable and varying administration! The nation could never have done this! They say it has done so, and appeal to the testimony of centuries which have elapsed since the first deed of gift confirmatory of the same. To speak in sober earnest, this is the fact. friend of tithes, conversant with the truth of Christianity in all its bearings, could for an instant be cheated into the belief of such double-refined nonsense, as that tithes are held by our clergy No This being a day of which our poor stupid forefathers never dreamed, a day in which the world teems with miraculous improvements, projected for church and state, let us draw out of the bustle for a moment and ponder upon one of the excellent changes in agitation. Which shall we select? Corn laws-repeal of the union-abolition of slavery abolition of tithes? Let it be the last; for the individuals primarily concerned are not a class likely to turn on us if we wrong them. And the practice of the age being to attack the weakest, in the name of fashion, have Jure Divino." All that can be said at them! Tithes! why the very word from Scripture on the subject is, that should be as abominable to us as pork we have there an example of national to a Jew. The wretched Israelites were support rendered to the ministers of a always odious to honest men; tithes right religion. Our kingdom followed are a bantling of their by-gone policy, that example, and did well, except it be and therefore righteously to be ab- considered stupid policy to imitate horred with the parent. In this con- what was so sanctioned by a higher clusion we are sure of having with us authority than that of man. A national every rational dissenter. What shrewd gift conferred tithes on the officers of fellows the dissenters! How clearly our church for their support, and to they detected even the rags of old tithes they have as much right and title mother popery dangling from the skirts as Malborough had and Wellington of our tithe-owning establishment! has to the estates confirmed to them How wisely they condemned the doat- and to their heirs for ever. ing institutions of corrupting the pure it is almost waste of words and time to gospel of Christianity, founded her argue about a right which is more palcontinuance and support on Jewish tax- pable than that by which three-fourths ation. Yet these same obstinate, un- of the estates in Britain are at present tractable parsons, half-priests, half-Jews, held--the question is merely between have the hardihood to deny that they might and right. Has the nation a assert a right to tithes on any appeal to right to abolish tithes and retract the Jewish law! Stupid fools, not to take gift once made to our ecclesiastics? as their defence the line of reasoning No more than it has to strip the heirs thrust upon them by the wise dis of Marlborough of Bleinheim, or deprive senters, who should of course understand the Duke of Wellington of the Straththeir interests and affairs better than fieldsay estates bestowed on him in tothemselves. No; the Ministers of our ken of his country's gratitude. Has the establishment disclaim all connection nation might to dispossess our clergy of with Judæism, maintain that they con- their incomes? Yes, might there is, and ceive and believe every Jewish law and whenever exerted, the ministers of ceremony superseded for the present our church, at the public will---worked by Christianity, and that their right to up into the form of law---may be flung tithes rest solely on the deed of the out to shift and struggle for a maintenation at large. What dolts! The nance, with the talents and education nation bestow such an enormous reve- at which, thank God, no legalised mob nue on a body that will neither figh can reach. However, as there seems In truth, to be a longing abroad for the exertion of this might, and abolition of tithes, but some little doubt and hesitation as to the easiest and surest method of proceeding, we will quote a case in point for the instruction of all anxious to do the business effectively and quickly. And it came to pass after these things, that Naboth the Jezreelite had a vineyard which was in Jezreel hard by the palace of Ahab, King of Samaria. And Ahab spake unto Naboth, saying, give me thy vineyard that I may have it for a garden of herbs, because it is near to my house, and I will give thee for it a better vineyard; or if it seem good to thee I will give thee the worth of it in money. And Naboth said to Ahab, the Lord forbid it me that I should give the inheritance of my fathers unto thee. And Ahab came to his house heavy and displeased because of the word which Naboth the Jezreelite had spoken to him, for he had said, I will not give thee the inheritance of my fathers. And he laid him down upon his bed and turned away his face and would eat no bread. But Jezebel his wife, came to him and said to him, why is thy spirit so sad that thou eatest no bread? And he said unto her, because I spake unto Naboth the Jezreelite, and said unto him, give me thy vineyard for money, or else, if it please thee, I will give thee another vineyard for it and he answered I will not give thee my vineyard! And Jezebel his wife said unto him, Dost thou now govern the king dom of Israel? arise, and eat bread and let thine heart be merry, I will give thee the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite. So she wrote letters in Ahab's name and sealed them with his seal, and sent the letters unto the elders and to the nobles that were in his city dwelling with Naboth. And she wrote in the letters saying, Proclaim a fast, and set Naboth on high among the people And set two sons of Belial before him, to bear witness against him saying, Thou didst blaspheme God and the king: and then carry him out and stone him, that he may die. And the men of his city, even the elders and the nobles who were the inhabitants in his city, did as Jezebel had sent unto them, and as it was written in the letters which she had sent unto them. They proclaimed a fast, and set Na both on high among the people. And there came in two men, children of Belial, and sat before him: and the men of Belial witnessed against him, even against Naboth in the presence of the people, saying, Naboth did blaspheme God and the king. Then they carried him forth out of the city and stoned him with stones, that he died. Then they sent to Jezebel, saying, Naboth is stoned, and is dead. And it came to pass when Jezebel heard that Naboth was stoned and was dead, that Jezebel said to Ahab, Arise, take possession of the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite which he refused to give thee for money, for Naboth is not alive but dead. And it came to pass, when Ahab heard that Naboth was dead, that Ahab rose up to go down to the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite to take possession of it." Here we have an evil-eyed faction in the person of Ahab, coveting the lawful possession of an humble party under the figure of Naboth, and finally successful through the counsel of such a minister as Jezebel, in grasping the possessions and abolishing Naboth's title and Naboth together. A ready mode of doing business this, well worthy of those who now desire the abolition of tithes. Stone the clergy and the work is done!! Having helped our friends with such useful counsel, we may now say a word on the original purpose or object of tithes. This we may call the cui bono. But here we cannot put forward as much as we are able and willing, because our arguments may not be suitably esteemed. If the world would grant us an affirmative reply to one question, we might run on smoothly enough. The question is this, Have the people_souls? If they have, the propriety of tithes, or, in other words, the advantage of regular public teachers, educated and trained in the principles of saving truth, must be at once allowed! What dull inconsistency do those men exhibit, who boast their desires and efforts to serve their fellow creatures, who consult and labour for the benefit and comfort of the mere body, while they pass without the slightest notice, the soul and its eternal interests! Such men either have no souls, and consequently feel nothing for those of others; or, if they have, stifle sympathy and conscience, to work, untroubled, for the |