on them, was ready to seize upon his 1. These poor wretches wandered about prey. In vain did these poor unfortu- from one bivouac to another, until they nates, feeling themselves benumbed, were struck by the frost and despair toraise themselves, and already deprived' gether, and gave themselves up for lost. of the power of speech, and plunged | They then laid themselves down upon the into a stupor, proceed a few paces, like snow, behind their more fortunate comautomatons; their blood freezing in their rades, and there expired. Many of veins, like water in the current of ri them, devoid of the means and the vulets, congealed the heart, and then strength necessary to cut down the lofty flew back to the head : these dying men fir-trees, made vain attempts to set fire then staggered, as if they had been in to them at the trunks; but death surpristoxicated. They were not long before ed them around these trees in every sort they fell upon their knees, and then up- of attitude. on their hands; the head still wavered Under the vast pent-houses which are for a few minutes alternately to the right erected by the side of the high-road and left, and from the open mouth some in some parts of the way, scenes of still agonizing sounds escaped ; at last it greater horror were witnessed. Officers fell in its turn upon the snow, which it and soldiers all rushed precipitately into reddened immediately with livid blood, them, and crowded together in heaps. and their sufferings were at an end. There, like so many cattle, they squeez

Such were the last days of the grand ed against each other round some fires, army. Its last nights were still more and as the living could not remove the frightful: those whom they surprised | dead from the circle, they laid themselves marching together, far from every ha- | down upon them, there to expire in their bitation, halted on the borders of the turn, and serve as a bed of death to woods; there they lighted their fires, some other victims. In a short time adbefore which they remained the whole ditional crowds of sțragglers presented night, erect and motionless, like spectres. themselves, and being unable to penetrate They seemed as if they could never have into these asylums of suffering, they comenough of the heat; they kept so close | pletely besieged them. to it, as to burn their clothes, as well as It frequently happened, that they de- . the frozen parts of the body, which the molished their walls, which were formfire decomposed. The most dreadful ed of dry wood, in order to feed their pain then compelled them to stretch them- 11 fires; at other times, repulsed and disselves, and the next day they attempted | heartened, they were contented to use in vain to rise. .

them as shelters to their bivouacs, the In the mean time, such as the winter | fames of which very soon communicated had almost wholly spared, and who still to these habitations, and the soldiers retained some portion of courage, pre whom they contained, already half dead pared their melancholy meal. It con- with the cold, were completely killed sisted, ever since they had left Smolensk, | by the fire. Such of us as these places of some slices of horse-flesh broiled, and of shelter preserved, found next day some rye-meal, diluted into a bouillie our comrades lying frozen and in heaps with snow-water, and kneaded into muf | around their extinguished fires. To esfins, which they seasoned, for want of. cape from these catacombs, a horrible efsalt, with the powder of their cartridges. fort was required to enable them to climb

The sight of these fires was con- | over the heaps of these poor wretches, stantly attracting fresh spectres, who | many of whom were still breathing. were driven back by the first comers. | At Youpranoui, the same village Vol. VI. No. XXXI.

G

where the emperor 'only missed by an || sican land-lubber. But, thanks to hour being taken by the Russian parti- || Providence, he was brought up.ona zan Seslawin, the soldiers burnt the lee shore at last; and his old hulk houses completely as they stood, merely is now scuttled in deep water, and to warm themselves for a few minutes. I can never be manned again to disThe light of these fires attracted some of turb the peace of nations." those miserable wretches whom the ex- A pause ensued, which was brocessive severity of the cold and their suf

||ken by my asking Miss Primrose if ferings had rendered delirious ; they ran

she had read The Foresters.—"No, in like madmen, and gnashing their teeth,

I have not," was the reply. and laughing like demons, they threw themselves into these furnaces, where

Reginald. Then lose no time in they perished in the most horrible con

reading it; for it will amply repay vulsions. Their famished companions

you for your time and trouble. It regarded them undismayed; there were

is long since I have been so much even some who drew out these bodies,

affected by any work of fiction: the disfigured and broiled by the flames, and characters, with the exception of two, it is but too true, that they ventured to are all of the middle and lower class pollute their mouths with this loathsome of the inhabitants of Caledonia; food!

there is but little of incident, scarces

ly any thing of what is called plot; Though we were all acquainted and yet the author, by the earnest with the dreadful fate of the French simplicity of his language, the toucharmy, though we had all read the ing pathos of his descriptive passadetails of their sufferings, and were ges, and the fine vein of pious and familiar with the issue of the enter- rural feeling that pervades the voprise that decided the fate of Buo- lume, has succeeded in rivaling the naparte; yet the vivid narrative of mighty productions of the“ great unGeneral Segur inspired us with hor-known" in the interest he excites; ror, and we shuddered at the priva- and perhaps has even excelled him tions and miseries which the ruth- in the hold which he takes of the less ambition of one man inflicted on heart. thousands of his race. The ladies Mr. Mathews. Whom do you sup(who joined us as the captain com- | pose to be the author ? menced reading the extracts) heav- Reginald. Mr. John Wilson, pro: ed a sigh to the memory of the fessor of moral philosophy in the brave dead, even though they were University of Edinburgh ; at least I our enemies, and enshrined their am as morally certain that Margaret memory with tears as pure as ever Lyndsay, Lights and Shadows of fell from the bright eyes of beauty. Scottish Life, and The Foresters, A feeling of pensive melancholy per- are from the pen of Mr. Wilson, as vaded the whole company, which I am that Sir Walter Scott is the auwas broken by Basil Firedrake, who thor of Waverley. exclaimed,

Mr. Apathy. Of which I have “ It is ungenerous to say any thing I great doubts. very harsh of a dead enemy, or 1 Reginald. Very likely; and just should be inclined to bestow a few now I will not attempt to remove them. sailor's epithets on that heartless Cor- The Crusaders are coming, you

that decided the futene enter- rural feelino ime vein of pious and

beauty. Scordsay, Lights anithat Marga

know, and then we can discuss the l of the choicest cowslip-wine, of that question if you think proper

celebrated vintage which had proved Mr. Apathy. With all my heart; | victorious over all competition at an but I wish to know something more annual meeting of the Edinburgh about The Foresters, which I have | Horticultural Society." Lucy had not yet seen.

selected a beautiful spot for a diningReginald. Like Mr. Wilson's for- | room, and here the party sat down mer works, it is a tale of humble life; to their humble feast, which was en. the history of a family, who, with few livened by the strains from the fidmisfortunes in a mere worldly and dle of " auld blind Sandy Paisley," pecuniary point of view, had yet some to whose blithsoine strains the lads severe trials; for Michael Forester and lasses footed the merry reel, and first saw his father die of a broken beat the sod to Tullochgorum, while heart, occasioned by the erimes of a Sandy yelled amain at every turn, and younger son, whom he loved perhaps moved his bow-band till the fingers were dearest, even when he was most guil- || almost invisible. ty; he then sold his patrimonial inhe “Are these draps o' rain," quoth the ritance to pay the demands of a man || blind man, “plashing on the green like whose name his brother had forged | lead? and, callants and cotties, dinna ye to a bill for a large amount; and af find it close, and sultry, and breathless? ter having prospered in the farm Tell me, are there no ony black clouds in which he rented of Emma Crans

the lift?--hear till't--that growl comes town, the “ Lady of the Hirst,” be

frae the west. The thunder will be ratyond the lot of most men; and en- ||

tling like artillery owre our heads, by the

time I ha'e played three times baith parts joyed happiness almost perfect in the

o'the Flowers o' the Forest.” Sighing society of “ heaven's best gift," a

sounds went wavering all over the wood; wife, whose whole joy was centred in

the western horizon, far and wide, was her husband's smiles, and in a daugh

blackened, and all the work-people flew ter, the very pattern of innocence to seek shelter from the thunder-storm. and gaiety, and in a maiden aunt, the Agnes had always been overcome by a very pink of old maids, was struck thundery atmosphere, and had, indeed, with blindness, and in one moment for an hour past felt great oppression; shut out from the sight of every but, in such a happy scene, she concealed thing he held most dear on earth. her sickness, and had said nothing. MiThe passage in which this is related chael, after ordering the work-people to is a powerful one; I will read it. To keep away from the standing trees, car. understand it, you must know, that ried Agnes, almost fainting, in his arms, Michael Forester was superintending and laid her on the heather-bed in the some workmen who were employed

shealing, where he had slept for the last in felling trees in a forest adjacent

two nights. Aunt Isabel sat down beto his farm: his wife Agnes, his

side her; and Michael, taking Lucy and

Mary under his protection, lay down daughter Lucy, a companion of the

with them under some leafy branches. latter," meeke Mary Morrison," and

The thunder-cloud was now right over aunt Isabel, had paid him a visit at

their heads, and seemed to explode like his work, bringing with them provi

Il a cannon. sions for a collation, and a “ bottle Every person in the wood, for the

cealed in fear an greater volu prevailing charact

space of a moment, was stunned, and Lucy are also. happy; and poetical there was all around, in the hotness of justice is awarded to every person of the unbreathing air, a strong smell of the novel with an impartial hand. sulphur. Many started to their feet, hap- Dr. Primrose. What do you think py to feel, by the use of their limbs, that the prevailing characteristic of the they were unstricken; while a greater | volume ? number lay concealed in fear among the Reginald. A strong sense of piety, bushes, from which, now and then, was

and a desire to impart to all; those lifted up the frighted face of some cow

emotions of “ peace and good-will" ering urchin. “Where is Mr. Forester?" cried twenty voices ; and Lucy, who had

which I will be sworn animate the been lying almost in his arms, leapt to

author's heart. Yet this is not what her feet, and stood over her father, who

can be strictly called a religious nowas yet motionless, and seemingly insen

vel: there is no cant about it; all is sible.

the kindly genuine feeling of the · While the thunder went away, growl- |

Christian and the man. Like bis ing over the moor and the wood beyond, other tales, the predominant characinto the eastern mountains, many hands ters are all good and amiable; they were assisting Michael Forester. Mary are of those Morrison was lying by his side, but, in “ Who ask not if thine eye a few minutes, she awoke as if from a Be on them; who, in love and truth, dream, and looked about her unharmed. || Where no misgiving is, rely There were no outcries, no clamorous

Upon the genial sense of youth:

Blest hearts! without reproach or blot, voices, all was nearly silent. Michael

Who do thy will, and know it pot!" seemed to recover his recollection, and

Counsellor Eitherside. I shall or. the first words he was heard to say, were, “Lucy, Lucy, how is your mother?" Lu- ||

Coll der a copy of The Foresters as I cy heard the words with many sobs, but

return home. But has this novel her sobs were changed into shrieks; for | formed the extent of your reading she looked wildly into her father's face, and saw that he was blind. The fire of Reginald. Oh, no! I have read heaven had scorched out his eyes, and Pyne's Twenty-ninth of May, in Michael Forester was never more to see which he gives a fine graphic deeither the heavens or the earth. - scription of the principal occurrences

Dr. Primrose. That is a fine pas connected with that memorable day, sage.

when the second Charles made his Reginald. And yet there are ma- triumphant entry into London. I ny far superior in the volume. I see have not the volumes with me, thereyou ladies are looking with anxious fore I cannot give you a specimen of eyes; I may therefore inform you, the quaint manner in which he gosthat Michael's misfortune brought, sips over the transactions of the if possible, added happiness; his period; but it is a most amusing noother senses soon became endowed vel, and will be generally read. Sewith that wonderful quickness and veral volumes of poetry have also power of discrimination which are made their appearance; and from generally imparted to the blind; and one of them, The Songs of a Stranhis domestic affection gained new ger, I have copied these verses for strength. The fortunes of the fair | Miss Rosina;

COMPLAINT OF AMANIEU DES ESCAS, || zing I received from all quarters, A Catalonian Troubadour, who flourished

every one being anxious to know who about the end of the 13th century, under James II. King of Arragon.

the lady was to whom they were adWheu thou shalt ask, why round thee,

dressed. That, however, is a secret, sighing,

which must, for the present at least, My mournful friends appear,

be confined to my own breast. They'll tell thee, Amanieu is dying, And thou wilt smile to hear.

TO A LADY WEEPING. They will reproach thee with my fate:

I cannot bear to see the tears steal down thy Yet why should they deplore?

pallid cheek; Since death is better than the hate

I cannot bear to see thy grief, too keen for I suffer evermore.

words to speak; Why chid'st thou that, in pensive numbers, | I cannot bear to look upon thy sorrowI dar'd my love to own ?

clouded brow, The kiss we give to one that sluinbers

Which erst was brilliant and serene, but, ah! Is never felt or known.

how alter'd now! And long I strove my thoughts to hide,

The rose is faded from thy cheek-the lily's Nor would my weakness shew;

planted there; With secret care I should have died,

And anguish in the flow'r of youth has silI can bat perish now!.

ver-ting'd thy hair: Oh! once I smil'd, in proud derision,

Yet in thy wreck of beauty thou art dearer At love, and all its pain:

to me far, The woe of others seems a vision,

Than when thou shon'st in all thy bloom, Our own the truth too plain!

bright as the morning star. May'st thou yet feel the chilling void

|| Oh! do not yield to dark despair, though My soul has known too long

the world is not thy friend; When this brief life, thy scorn destroy'd,

But look with hope to yon bright heav'n, Is ended with my song!

where all thy woes will end : Mr. Apathy. And pray whose

There, with the spirits of the just, releas'd

from mortal strife, poetry is this í snewing a paper ne | Thou'lt reap a sure, a rich reward, for all the had just picked up from the floor),

ills of life. " To a Lady weeping ?” Vastly sen

And though thou’rt doomed to wander still timental, and in Reginald's hand

a pilgrim here below, writing, as I am an honest man! La- || Remember there's one faithful heart would dies, what do you say? Is it fair?

gladly share thy woe:

|| Then do not mourn like one forlorn, without Shall I read?

a hope or friendThe Ladies. Oh! by all means.

Thy sun of life may rise again, and all thy Reginald. What! without asking

cares may end. my leave?

Mr. Montague. Oh! that's of no Just as Mr. Apathy had finished, consequence, my boy; the verses

the supper-tray made its appearance; are fair game, and Apathy must

| and having pretty well satiated our read them.

mental, we proceeded to administer Dr. Primrose. Certainly, by all

to our physical appetites. That done, means!

we separated, with the hope of again Accordingly Mr. Apathy, with

meeting each other next month. due emphasis and discretion, read |

REGINALD HILDEBRAND, the following lines, which I shall Elmwood-Hali., transcribe as a finish to this paper; June 10, 1825. saying nothing of the complete quiz