THE SCOTTISH EXILE'S FAREWELL. And Cheviot's mountains blue. The martyr's grave—the lover's bower, Home of our hearts!-our father's home!- But may dishonour blight our fame, Our native land-our native vale- Farewell to bonny Teviotdale, And Scotland's mountains blue. THOMAS PRingle. LETTER COMMUNICATING THE DEATH OF A YOUNGER BROTHER. A VERY dear member of your family has been suddenly removed your amiable brother Edward is no more. He died on the night of the first of November, after an illness of twelve days. He suffered much until within the last two days; when, mortification having taken place within, he became easier, and remained so to the last. I am not a very young man, and it has fallen to my lot to witness the last hours of many. Never did I see any one give a brighter evidence of faith, hope, and love, than poor Edward. His patient endurance of acute pain, his constant anxiety to spare the feelings of his mo ther, his fear of giving trouble to the servants, and his tearful gratitude for every little attention, affected all very deeply. Until the day before his death, the nature of his disorder was so distressing that he could neither read himself, nor give the attention of a listener; but he frequently prayed in whispering ejaculations, or silently, with the closed lid, or the quiet upward glancing of the humble eye. On the last day of his life, he read a little in the morning out of the pocket-bible which you gave him on his tenth birth-day; but, growing faint and weak, he closed the book, continuing, however, to hold it in his hands with his eyes shut, and to press it with fervour and affection. I knelt by him, and read to him a chapter of St John, and prayed: he joined faintly in the responses, and thanked me with great tenderness. Towards evening he said to me, in a very solemn tone, "The forgetting of God is a great sin; the cause of all others; the cause of all woe and guilt. It has been mine." I whispered to him peace, and told him it had been mightily atoned for. "Yes, I know," said he, " in whom I have believed. I love and trust him; but I feel great, great awe. It is not fear-it is a bitter thing to die; a great sorrow to leave all whom we love on earth; yet I know it is best for me, or it would not be." I watched in his chamber the last night of his earthly existence. He died as gently as he had lived. About midnight I heard a soft sound, as of quiet suppressed weeping; I did not like to disturb him at such a moment. Some time after, when all was still, I drew back the curtain to look upon him. His gentle spirit had fled. believe he died in those sweet tears. I cannot write Come, come to the house of mourning, it will be History of a Life. more. good for you. THE LOSS OF FRIENDS. FRIEND after friend departs; I Beyond the flight of time,- There is a world above, Where parting is unknown; Form'd for the good alone: Thus star by star declines, As morning high and higher shines Nor sink those stars in empty night, But hide themselves in heav'n's own light. MONTGOMERY. THE BROTHERS' PARTING. WHEN shall we three meet again ? Though in distant land we sigh, When around this youthful pine He dressed expensively, frequented public diversions, kept his hunter at a livery ral convivial and was a of seve At home it was almost a footman's on him. He would have thought it him to buckle his shoes; and if he any thing at the other and bring a servant up to fetch it. his counting-house on of the room, he would ring bell, rather than rise from He did a little business in the after dinner to indolence Richard was a very two but devoted all his time amusement. character. He was plain in his appearance, and domestic in his way of to ask assistance in doing what he could easily do for He was assiduous in his leisure , and employed chiefly in reading and acquiring useful Both were still young and unsettled their father died, leaving behind him a very trifling had not a capital sufficient of mercantile business in which they were obliged to look out for a new of maintenance; and a great reduction of was the first thing requisite. This was a severe to James, who found himself at once cut off from all the pleasures and indulgences to which he was so without them. He that he thought life of no melancholy and dejected, hatickets. Still zarded all his little property in to think of retrieving himself by industry frugality, he accepted a for the West a fever died. in a new-raised regiment ordered where soon after his arrival he Richard, in the mean time, whose comforts were little impaired by this of situation, preserved his cheerfulin accommodating himself as ness, and found no clerk in a house his father had been lived as frugally as upon his salary. him with decent board, lodging, and all he to was a to with, and It furnished which was and his hours of leisure were nearly as as before. A book or a sober friend always sufficed him an agreeable evening. He gradually from in the confidence of his employers, who time to time his salary and emoluments. Every increase of gratification to him, because he was able pleasures, which, however, habit had not made to his comfort. In process of he was enabled to settle for himself, and passed through life in the of that modest competence which best his disposition. BARBAULD. THE LIFE OF A LOOKING-GLASS. My earliest recollection is that of a carver and gilder's workshop, where I remained for many months leaning with my face to the wall; and having never known any livelier scene, I was very well contented with my quiet condition. The first object that I remember to have arrested my attention was a large spider, which, after a vast deal of scampering about, began to weave a curious web all over my face. This afforded me great amusement; and not then knowing that far lovelier objects were destined to my gaze, I did not resist the indignity. At length, when little dreaming of any change of fortune, I was taken from my station, and made to undergo a curious operation. This gave me at the time considerable apprehensions for my safety; but these were succeeded by pleasure, upon finding myself arrayed in a broad black frame handsomely carved and gilt. This process being finished, I was presently placed in a packing-case, and sent a long journey, by waggon, to Lon |