with her nose at each advance popping as it were into his coat-pocket. He would say, as they proceeded thus, "Nansock, is thou coming?" and she would push forward and show herself, which was as much as answering, "I am aside you, Robin;" then he would approvingly add, "Weel, weel, Nancy, lass, thou's a clever hizzy;" and thus a very kindly dialogue would be carried on. When she was unyoked and at greater freedom, something more comical still would be enacted by them. He would "chick-chick," give an untoward leap, and utter an uncouth sound, merely to tempt her to similar exploits, which indeed for a mare she excelled at; for even in her grey old age, she would take up the frolic, snort, kick, and give various other intimations of merriment as if to outdo Robin. But at his words again,"There now, Nancy, poor brute beast!" she would compose herself, and take her fitting place.

It pleases me to linger over the character and doings even of Nancy the mare; for on one occasion, very memorable with me, she was the means of saving my life, and this by the exercise of what had the appearance of wonderful sagacity. It was during the busy season of spring, just when our ploughing was finished, and all in readiness for seed-sowing, at mid-day, and one of the most genial, our expectations were on tiptoe, all within and without exhilarating. Robin in particular was exalted in spirit, and with linen sheet artfully knotted, so as to form a capacious bag, boasting to be secure without the aid of needle and thread, was holding anxious consultation with my mother regarding the necessary operations about to be entered on; and, as he was wont to do, was repeating some sage maxims of old standing. He declared, "Wi' deed we maun just do, as aforetime we hae done : this is the auld folks' earliest tid for sawing, after a', the ordained season for the same."

During this discourse he was striding back and forward somewhat ostentatiously, as if to prove how his armour sat, delighted greatly no doubt to find himself once again decked with the snow-white robe that was consecrated to this single office, and which no one but he had of late years worn. The bright and dazzling sun lent the fair linen a sort of glory, which Robin could not but partly appropriate to himself. In homely phrase he gave utterance to his manly feelings thus: "I care na for mason parades and mason aprons: but I tak' delight in observing the husbandman wi' his big belly o' corn, pacing soberly alang his ain riggs, serious, thoughtfu', and happy; casting frae him, in a manner that teaches hope and trust, the seed that is to set forth in due season food for man and for beast. This is nae bairn's work, but manfu' doing: its nae foolish occupation, that a man of years and sense can be ashamed o' next morning, and fear to ask a blessing on; but it is in a religious way serving him who hath

promised the harvest as surely as the seed-time." But by the close of such generalities, dismay and disaster were within a hair-breadth of us; for as one person was throwing a sackful of seed-corn over staid Nancy's back, the other pair of steeds stood at the stable-door, coupled and ready to be put to the torturing harrow; and I adventuring to hold them, next proceeded to mount the hand horse. Boys would be men, but in nothing are more forward than in the managing of horses. The animal is so noble, that there is pride to be gratified in governing him, pleasure in associating with him.

Alas! I mounted, but at the same moment both of the horses started as if with one accord, affrighted by the unusual attire and parade of the sower; betaking themselves at the instant to a gallop, which became more furious as the white-robed champion sprang forward to overtake and arrest them. There was a small inclosure before them, for which they made, whilst I held with all my might by collar and by mane. At first I was not indeed put quite to my wit's end: but when they suddenly turned a corner to enter the inclosure, almost floundering themselves in the hasty wheel, I had one glance of the fearful predicament in which was, and remember to this hour my exclamation to have been," I shall fall, I shall be killed!” and fall I did: horrible to think! I fell between the yoked horses, that even grew more furious in their self-affright; and there I hung, entangled among the coupling harness, without the power or the will to extricate myself, for I was soon senseless.

Twice around the small field they galloped madly, my mother and the servants being the petrified spectators of the whole aflair; getting glimpses of me as of a bundle of rags, dangling between the annoyed brutes. Once my mother, I have been told, ran frantically to catch the horses, crying, "I hope he is not in torture, but clean dead." And one brought from the house a loaded gun, with the intent of shooting them; but as he was taking his aim, she turned and wrested it from him violently, uttering, as with a last effort, "Ye'll kill him, and miss them." Robin about the same moment said, "I see him fa'in' piece by piece; let us hide ourselves, and leave all to God." At that instant too, Nancy, that had hitherto kept her position, as if unconscious of what was passing, turned her eye to the dreadful scene, then neighed repeatedly and loudly, which brought the infuriated animals to her side, by an irresistible authority. There they halted, all blown, and bearing me still between them, though apparently lifeless. I was extricated, however, and carried within, wounded and broken dreadfully; but after several weeks of dangerous illness I began to recover, and at length grew strong.

What a scene of horrors had I passed through! and to no one surely ought it to have appeared more appalling than to me; nor ought my

scape to have called forth the wondering gratitude of any one half so much as mine. Sometimes, indeed, long after my recovery, have I had very vivid conceptions of what I owed to Heaven for my preservation; but it was my mother who took up, with something like adequate impressions, the lessons enforced by the frightful catastrophe. Perhaps the ordinary course of twenty years had not before this so deeply wrought on her heart the apprehension of Heaven's mercy; but henceforward that divine attribute became the theme of her profoundest contemplation and most earnest homage. Some have erect ed pillars of stone to commemorate their wonderful escapes by flood and field; but I never could cease to look upon her as a nobler and richer monument recording my deliverance.

of men.

There is a mediate space about our sixteenth and eighteenth years for transformation of mind and transition of pursuits. We are passing from puerility to manhood; it may be called the neutral ground between the heedlessness of children and the thoughtfulness The green and soft seedling has changed to grow a stately and hardened tree that must stand many a shock. It was in my sixteenth year that for the first time I left my home, or had ever been one night from under my paternal roof. My mother wished that I should pursue my education at college, and accordingly to Glasgow I was sent. It is presumed that her heart was set on having me educated for the church, and trained to habits of thinking, and among the good and venerable men that such a profession would necessarily connect me with. Her judgment however is to be questioned, when she confided in the presumptions now given; for she should have borne in mind that I was too much subject to momentary impulses to enable any one to calculate upon what I would or would not do in any circumstances. But it is needless to say more on this matter, for I went to college only one session. I was in that short time satisfied that it is of such young men cities generally make victims; and I take credit to myself for having determined never again to encounter the temptations and the vices that stalk in broad daylight within every large town.

Mary was a tradesman's daughter I often met at my landlady's, of virgin seventeen, of surpassing— Tush! Why should I rave about beauty and virtues ?-The evening I confessed to her my ardent love preceded immediately and exactly my birthday, which was in genial spring. That birthday was also my seventeenth: and as the weather was fine, and the session at college nearly closed, my classmates Home and Barclay were to join me in an excursion down the gallant Clyde; for we were excellent fresh-water sailors. I knew they were to have their sweethearts with them; and I meant to in

vite my Mary, with her mother's leave. But first I resolved to declare my love, for that was the principal matter.

Just as I had settled on all this, Mary gave my landlady a hasty call, and I escorted her home. I shall never forget that beautiful evening of inspiring spring. George Square was almost deserted; the timid doves had possession of the streets, unscared; the warbling of the mavis in the enclosed shrubbery was as clear and undisturbed as in a sequestered grove; the blaze of the sun, about to stoop behind the highland hills, pierced and threw back the gathering fogs that congregated around his disk, turning them into mighty folds of glorious drapery: he for a few minutes saluted the stately walls, that faced him, with an unparalleled magnificence, such as might be supposed to be shed abroad by a sea of molten or burnished gold. It was now that I told my love, it was now that I looked it; and it was now that Mary confessed her's to me. But when I invited her to join in the celebration of my birthday on the morrow, she said, Nay!-for her mother was a widow, and had given her consent to a worthy man of affluence, for him to woo her, and he bargained that she should never keep company or walk with me. "Nonsense!" quoth I; "Mary, you will keep my company, and walk with me; and I shall walk with none but you;-what say you, Mary?""I shall say as you say, if it will please, Oswald," was her guileless and maidenly reply. "And you'll go with us to-morrow, my Mary ?" said I again; and she blessed me anew with these short words, "I will, Oswald."

Our party of tripled pairs was astir and away by an early hour in the morning;-that is the time for lively joy. The weather had been remarkably fine, and the day promised to be sultry; but at that prime hour the fresh-scented grass and bracing breeze put mettle in the rowers, and we skimmed the Clyde at a fine rate. By-andbye, as the business of men called, the river came to be spotted with ferry-boats and small craft. We moored our skiff: we sprang into the labyrinth woods; we scampered and huzzaed to tempt Echo from her hiding-place; we strove at doggerel rhymes. Nor were the expectancies of that long and lovely day unfulfilled, as we basked in the sun and told of our boundless purposes of generous love.

Ere the curtains of eve closed around us, and while yet the sun was dancing his millions of rays on the bosom of the majestic Clyde, we returned to our boat again, to take advantage of the flow of the tide. Songs and glees were now our business, and never did voices harmonize better than Barclay's and Home's in "All's Well!" Their music stole along the rippling waters, till coy Echo sent back the notes from either shore with redoubled tenderness, that swelled the bosom with rapture. They sang with a freedom and confidence,

as if feeling that none but spirits heard. The helm had been entrusted to my care; but, lost in delight, 1 steered unskilfully against a much larger bark. There was alarm in our boat, and a rush made to one side, that made it tumble us into the merciless current. Then there was shriek upon shriek, and yells, and bubbling cries; but all were rescued, save my Mary; her feeble strength was nothing against the swallowing deep, that in a few minutes smoothed the trouble of its waters over her, and rolled on as before. Once more I saw her lovely and delicate body when she was picked up, but it was not Mary: the spirit had fled.-Mary was not there. True, when buried, I took, as it were, a never-to-be-withdrawn gaze at the spot where again she shall come forth alive. Her grave is within the shadow of St Mungo's Cathedral: "But," said I, "at the last day, the elements shall melt with fervent heat, and the works of man shall dissolve; then Mary shall live for evermore."

TO THE COMET OF 1811.

How lovely is this wilder'd scene,
As twilight from her vaults so blue
Steals soft o'er Yarrow's mountains green,
To sleep embalm'd in midnight dew!

All hail, ye hills, whose towering height,
Like shadows, scoops the yielding sky!
And thou, mysterious guest of night,
Dread traveller of immensity!

Stranger of Heaven! I bid thee hail!
Shred from the pall of glory riven,
That flashest in celestial gale,

Broad pennon of the King of Heaven!

Art thou the flag of woe and death,

From angel's ensign-staff unfurl'd?
Art thou the standard of his wrath
Waved o'er a sordid sinful world?

No, from that pure pellucid beam,

That erst o'er plains of Bethlehem shone,*
No latent evil we can deem,

Bright herald of the eternal throne!

Whate'er portends thy front of fire,
Thy streaming locks so lovely pale,--
Or peace to man, or judgments dire,
Stranger of Heaven, I bid thee hail!

It was reckoned by many that this was the same comet which appeared at the Lirth of our Saviour,