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Hitervature,

I'M GROWING OLD.

My days pass pleasantly away ;

My nights are blest with sweetest sleep j 1 feel no symptoms of decay ;

I have no cause to mourn or weep j My foes are impotent and shy ;

"My friends are neither false nor cold, And yet of late, I often sigh—

I'm growing old!

My growing talk of olden times, My growing thirst for early news, My growing apathy to rhymes, My growing love of easy shoes, My growing hate of crowds and noise, My growing fear of taking cold, All whisper in the plainest voice, I'm growing old!

I'm growing fonder of my staf ; I'm growing dimmer in the eyes ; I'm growing fainter in my laugh ; i'm growing deeper in my sighs ; I'm growing careless «f my dress ; I'm growing frugal of my gold ; I'm growing wise ; I’m gtuwing—yes— I'm growing old!

I see it in my changing taste ; I see it in my changing hair; 1 see it in my growing waist ; 1 see it in my growing heir ; A thousand signs proclaim the truth, As plain as truth was ever told, That even in my vaunted youth, I'm growing old!

Ab me !—my very laurels breathe The tale in my reluctant ears,

And every boon the Uours bequeathe But makes me debtor to the Years! E’en Flattery’s honeyed words declare The secrets she would fain withhold, And tells me in “* How young you are !*’

I'm growing old !

Thanks fur the years '—whose rapid flight My sombre muse too sadly sings ; Thanks for the gleams of golden light That tint the darkness of their wings ; The light that beams from out the sky, Those heayenly mansions to unfold, Where al! are blest, and none may igh, * ['m growing old!” ee

THE FREE. BY ELIZA COOK. The wild streams leap with hecedless sweep,

In their curbless course o'er the mountain steep ; All fresh and strong they foam along,

Waking the rocks with their cataract song.

My eye bears a glance like a beam of a lance While I watch the waters dash and dance ;

1 burn with glee. for I love tu see

The path of anything thav’s free.

The eky-lark springs with dew on his wings, And up in the arch of heaven he sings

Trill-la trill-laoh, sweeter far

Than the not.s that come through a golden bar. The joyous bar of a hound at play,

The caw of « rook on its homeward way —

Ob! these shall be the music for me,

For I love the voices of the free.

The deer starts by with his antlers high, Proudly tossing his head in the sky ;

The barb runs the plain unbroke by the fein, With -teaming nostrils and flying mane ; The clouds are stirred by the eagle bird,

As the flap of his drooping pinion is heard. Ob! these shall be the creatures for me,

For my sou! was formed to love tue free.

The mariner brave, in his bark on the wavs, May laugh at the walls round a kingly slave ; And the one whose lot is the desert spot

Has no dread of an envious foe in his cot.

The thrail and state at the palace gate

Are what my spirit has learnt to hate ;

Oh the bills shall be a home for me,

For I'd leave a throne for the hut of the free.’’

THE TWO PARTINGS.

We parted once before. You wept W hon I rose up to go, you did! You prayed for me before you slept,

You little love, you know you did!

And no grie! now is on that brow, ; Which then you said, throbb’d so, you did ; You loved we be: ter then than now— You crue! thing, you know you did!

Do you remember what the sea I took you out to show you, did? You made « pretty simile— You false of tongue, you know you did!

You sighed, ‘* That lite were like its crests When sunshine breezes blow,’’ you did ;

** To catch |ove's light before it rests !’’ You cold, cold heart, you know you did.

What have [ done? You smile no moro On me as months ago you did ;

You deem my homage now a bore ; You liked it then, you know you did.

** How blest,’’ you said, ‘* were life with ono Who'd love me truly!” O, you did! But—you thought | was an ¢ der son— You utter flirt, you know you did !

THE LOST REGIMENT.

en

A LOVE STORY.

(From the Legends of the Black Watch, by James Grant.) ( Concluded.)

After a lapse of several long and weary months by a sail- ing vessel poor Brmy reeeived a letter from Louis, and, in the hushed silence of er ovn apartment, the humbled co- quette wept over every word of it—uand read it again and againa—for it seemed to come like the beloved voice of the writer from a vast distasce aad from the land of danger It deseribed the long aud dreary passage to America in the crowded aud comfurtless transport—one thought ever in his soul—the thought of her; ome seene ever around him, sea and sky. It detailed the burried disembarkation and foreed march of General Forbes’s little army of 6,200 soldiers from Philadelphia in the begiuning of July, through a vast tract of country, little known to civilised mea; all but impene- trable or impassable, as the roads were mere war paths, that lay through dense untrodden forests of deep murasses and over lofty mouniaius, where wild, aetive, ead ferocious Ln-

cians, by musket, tomahawk, sealping-kuif, and poisoned |

arrow, co-operated with the French in rassing our troops ‘at every rood of the way. He told how many of the strong- est atid healthiest of Montgomery's Highlanders perished amid the toils and horrors they encountered ; but how still

‘a el

|he bore up, animaited by the memory of her, by that love |which was a second life to him, and by the darling hope i that, with God’s help. he would survive the campaign and al! lits miseries, and would find himself ag:in, as of old, seated by the side of his beloved Emmy, with her cheek on his shoulder and her dear little hand clasped in his. He sent |her some Indian beads, a few forget-me-nots that grew amid ithe grass within his tent ; he sent her anuther lock of bie | hair, and prayed kind Cod to bless her for the sake of the | poor absent heart that loved her so well.

And here ended this sorrowful letter, which was dated

from the camp of the Scottish Brigadier, who halted at!

| Raystown, ninety miles on the march from Fort du Quesne | Thus, by the time Emmy received it, the fort must have been attacked and lost or won.

| “Attacked!” How breathlessly and with what protract- ed agony did she long for intelligence, for another letter or | for the war-office lists! But days, weeks, months rolled on} the snow descended on the Highland mountains; the woods ‘of Kinnoull were again leafless ; again the broad Luches of | Perth wore the white mantle of winter; the Tay was frozen | hard as fliat between its banks and between the piers of the | old wooden bridge ; there now came no mails from America ; ino letter reached her; and poor Kinmy, though surrounded iby admirers as of old, felt all the misery of that deferred | hope which * maketh the heart sick.”’

|gomery’s Highlanders, accompanied the force of Brigadier | Forbes, who, in September, dispatched from Raystown | Colonel Boquet to a place called Loyal Heuning, to recon- /noitre the approach to Fort du Quesne. The Colonel's force consisted of 2000 men; ef these he dispatched in advance 500 Provincials and 400 of Montgomery’s regiment, under

mand was Captain Charters. Despite the advice of the) latter, Grant, a brave but reckless and imprudent officer,

j advanced boldly towards Fort cu Quesne with all his pipes |playing and drums beating, as if he was approaching a

friendly town. Now the French officer who commanded in the fort was a determined fellow. He it was who had be- haved with such heroism at the recent siege of Savannah, where he had been sergeant-major of Diilon’s Regiment of the Irish Brigade in the service of King Louis. \ hen the Comte d'Estaing madly proposed to take the fortress by a) coup-de-main, M. le Comte Dillon, anxious to signalize his Irishmen, proposed a reward of a hundred guineas to the first grenadier who should plant a fascine in the fosse, which was swept by the whole fire of the garrison; but bis purse was proffered in vaio, for not an Lrishman would advance. Uoufounded by this, Dillon was upbraiding them with cow- ardice, when the sergeant-major said :

* Monsieur le Comte, had you not held out a sum of money as an incentive, your grenadiers would ove and all

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bave rushed to the assault.”

The count put his purse in his pocket.

“ Forward !” cried be ; forward went the Lrish grenadiers, and oxt of 194 whc composed the company, 1U4 left thei: budies in the breach.

But to resume; the moment the soldiers of Grant were within range, the Freneh cannon opened upon them, and under cover of this fire, the infautry wade a furious soriie.

“Shing your muskets! Dirk aud claymore!” cried the major as the foe came on. A terrible couflict ensued, the Highlanders fighting with their swords and daggers, and the Provineials wich their tixed bayonets ; the French gave way, but, anable to reach the fort, they dispersed and sought shelter in the vast forest which spread in every direction round it. flere they were jotued by a strong body of La- dians, and returning, from amidst the leafy jungles and deuse foliage, they opened a werderous fire upon Major Grant's detachment, which had halted to refresh, whea suddeuly summoned to arms.

A jell pierced the sky! It was the Indian warhoop startling the green leaves of that louo Awericau forest, and waking the echos of the distaat hiils that overlook the plain of the Alleghany ; thousands of Red Ludian warriors, horri- ble in their native ugliness, thei streaky war paint, jangling

| . . moccasins and tufted feathers, naked aud wuscular, savage

as tigers and supple as eels, with their barbed spears, scalp- ing-knives, tomahawks, and French muskets, burst like a living flood upon the soldiers of Baliindalloch. The Pro- vincials immediately eadeavoured to furm square, but were broken, brained, scalped, and trod under foot, as if a brigade of horse had swept ever them. While in the old fashion of their native land, the undaunted 77th meu endeavoured to uiget the foe, foot to feot and hand to hand, with the broad- sword, but in vain. Gravt ordered them to throw aside their knapsacks, plaids, and cuats, aud betake themselves to the claymore, aud the claymore only, For three hours a desultory and disastrous combat was maintained ; over stump and tree, every bush, rock, and stone, being batiled for with deadly evergy; and all the horrors of Ludian warfare, yells, whoops, the tomabawk and the knife, were added to those of Kurope, aud befure the remnaut of our Higolanders effected an cscape, Captains Macdonald and Muurv, Lieu enants Alaster, William and Robvert Mackenzie, and Colin Campbell, were kilied and scalped, with many cf their men. Eus'gn Alaster Grant lust a buud by a poisoned arrew ; but of ali who fell, Charters most deeply regretted Alaster Mac- kenzie, his friend and corfidant, to save whom, after a shot had pierced his bi east, he made a desperate effort and slew three lndians by three consecutive blows; but this suecour

'came too late, and Mackeuzie’s scalp was torn off before he

breathed his last.

“Stand by your colors, comrades, till death!” were his last words. ‘ Farewell, dear Cuarters, may God protect you for your Ewwy’s suke, we'll weet again!”

Again {”

“ Les, again, in heaven!” he answered, and expired with his sword in bis baud, like a brave and pious soldier.

The red meu were like iucarnate fiends, and, amid groans, yells, prayers, and entreaties, Were seep on their kuees in | frenzy, drinking blood from the spouting veins and bleeding | scalps of their victims. The combat was @ mere massacre, and seemed as if all bel] bad burst its gates and held jubilee in that wild forest of the savage West. The Provincials were destroyed. Grant, with nineteen officers, fell into the hauds o: the French; and of bis Highlanders only 150 suc- ceeded in effecting a retreat to Loyal Heuning, under the command of Louis Charters, to whose skill, bravery, and evergy, they unaninwusly attribuved their escape. Many of their comrades who were captured died under agovies such as Lodians, Turks, or devils alone could have devised ; and the story of one, Private Allan McPher-ou, who escaped a cruel death by pretending that his neck was sword-proof, as related by the Abve Reyual, and Geueral Stewart, of Gath, is well known. |

James Grant of Ballindalloch died a General in the army | in 1806; but be never forgot the horrors of his rashness at Fort du Quesne, which was abandoued to Brigadier Forbes on the 24th November; by this he was deprived of a re- venge, and to win it Charters had volunteered to lead the forlorn hope. Poor General Forbes died on the retreat.

Charters’s regiment served next in General Ambherst’s | army at Ticonderaga, at Crown Point, and on the Luke Expedition, where be saved the life of Ensign Grant, now | known ag Alaster the One-handed, by bearing him off the. field when wounded; but during all these desultory and | sauguinary operations, be never heard from Ewmy, nor did she hear from him. He suffered much; he nearly perished in the snow on one occasion with a whole .detachment ; he was wounded in the left shoulder on that might of horrors. at Ticonderaga, aud had a narrow escape from a cannou-ball

Meanwhile Louis, at the head of his company of Mont-.

Major James Grant of B tilindalloch, whose second in com-

Charlottetown, Prince Edward Esland, Monday, January 23, 1860. "

honor in a hundred minor achievements of the brave High- landers of Montgomery.

It newed or recruited thrice from the Highland clans, the old 77th covered themselves with glory, and of all the Svot- tish corps in the King’s service, there was none from which the soldiers more nobly and rigidly transmitted to their azed parents in Scotland the savings of their poor payor the prize money g ined by their blood in the Havannah. In ove of his (unanswered) letters to Emmy Stuart, Louis says, “* | have known some of our poor fellows, my dear girl, who almost starved themselves for this purpose.”

One of the majors being killed at the storming of the Mero, his widow. in cousideration of his great services, was permitted to sell bis commission, captain, and the regiment knew well that he, having only his pay, was uoable to purchase it; but so greatly was he beloved by the soldiers, many of whom, in America, had thrown themselves before the sharp tomihawks and poisoned arrows of the [ndians to save him, that they subscribed each Highlander so many days’ py to purchase his majority ; and

the plunder of the rich Havannah having put these brave | that hour she resolved to decline his addresses. | again

souls in good funds, the money was all fairly laid on the

druin-head in one hour, when the corps was on evening) “ that the remnant of Montgomery's Highlanders, under the | | command of Major Louis Charters, had suiled from New la

parade in the citadel of El Fuerte. Such a noble instance of camaraderie and true soldierly

sentiment never occurred jm the British service but once! from whence that gallant corps had sailed for the wars of Mississip befure; and then it was also in au old Scottish regiment| tie Far West in 1738.”

which had served, believe,in the wars of Queen Anne, |

before the amalgamation of the forces of the two kingdoms. | seemed before her, loving, trusting, and true; and hourly

This was the most noble tribute his soldiers could pay to Charters, who was duly gazetted when the regiment was’! stationed at New York in the summer of 1763, to enjoy a| little repose after the toils of the past war,

The services and adventures so briefly glanced at here, |

Louis was now senior |

Rew Series.---No, 2,

| . ° . ° oe 2 en A day, in a dreamy and listless mood, her eye| island, and urged the necessity of having his soldiers trans ell on the following : alete 8 Ns , Patt : +2 atin of & 8 ; j . ultted home, that he procured a ship at Ponta de! Gada, the A union of fortunes, not a union of hearts, is the thing | largest town of these islands, and sailing with the still re ‘generally aimed at in marriage, and, by those who esteem | duced remnant ‘ ee) + ia. | themselves prudent people, is thought the only rational view. There is no divine ordinance more frequently disobeyed than | that wherein God forbids human sacrifices, for in no other Watch, into which his soldiers had voluntesred. and whiet | light can most modern marriages be viewed. Brazea images, | by a strange fatality. was peat “ is | indeed;'sre ne ahilihe of : | OY @ Strange fatality, was quartered in Perth—the home of in a o not the objects of their worship; a purer metal his Einmy, and the place where for five loug years he had | is their deit “very ede im anci : , r : : - whey. ' is their deity, Every one who reads in ancient history of garnered up his thouzhts and dearest hopes. ; human sacrifices, exe!aims against the horrid practice and} The reader may imavine the emotions of poor Emmy on trembles ut the narrative, though there is scarcely one of the | finding that her lover lived, and that her heart was thus | fe > re > if she i ¢ arrimaac — am 2 i c ea a , ma are a if she is of . narriageable age, who is not | cruelly wrenched away from a!] it had treasured and cherished ir ady 0 eck her person, sm _ adorned victim, in the! for years. Then, as if to ageravate her sorrow eur battalion lope of tempting some goiden idol eceive e-Will | marched th xt day for fore; “a ae ante are g to rec a free will | mar me aan for foreign service, and Louis again —? ‘ jembarke: Or America, tne land of his toi! t | Emmy thought of Douglas's f : fell | ss fi ittiany Maes to eniecel waraaiiame aaa s fortune, and the irelentless fate per > . ela g book fell | a . reo Eumy to excuse or explain herself. nd, Yougias leit the corns and took hi if j ee ie’ f iS and took his wife to Paris, where ae No, no,” she said with a shudder; ‘I sha!l not be the/he fell in a duel with g Jacobite refugee : adorned victim offered up to his golden idol ;” aud from) Emmy lived to be a very old woman, but she never smiled . e P , - ™ -

- Te me S e, " . ° ee oF his egeoaee ae had perished with the founcereu transport—he landed at Greenock, from whence

he was ordered at once to join the 2d battalion of the Black

On the day succeeding this brave resolution came tidings | Thus were two fend hearts separated forever,

oe —— after Louis landed in America, he died of ¢ roken heart say some; of the marsh fever say others York six weeks ago, and were daily expected at Greenock, |! He was then onthe march with a detachment of ours up the , Ippt, a long route of 1500 miles, to taxe possession of Fort Charters in [ilinois. His friend, a Captain Grant— |Alaster the Oue-handed— performed the last offices for him,

ing, jand saw him rolled in a blanket, aud buried at the foot of a she expected to have, in his own handwriting, assurance of | cotton-tree, where the muskets of the Black Watch made the all her heart desired ; but, alas! time rolled on, days be- | echoes of the vast prairie ring as they poured three farewell came weeks, weeks became months, and no tidings reached } volleys over the last home ds brave but lonely heart Britain of the Highlanders of Moutgomery. , ' ‘The lost regiment” was spoken of from time to time, |

J . . Now came Ewmy’s hour of triumph, and already Louis

eS Ee _—————

had thus spread over a period of five years, to Louis long till even friends, comrades, and relations g:ew tired of futile | Gleanings from late Papers.

and weary years, during which he had never heard of Emmy | surmises, and their unaccountable disappearauce became like |

| forest.

‘commit to paper; but, by a strange fatality, these letters

but ouce; and now he bad uo relic of her to remind him ot | thuee delightful days of peace and love that had fled appa- reutly for ever. Tbe ring she had given him, warm from her | pretty hand, had been tora from his finger by plunderers as | he luy wounded and helpless on the ramparts of Fort London, | on the coufines of far Virginia; her fan was lost when his! bagyage was taken on the retreat from Fort du Quesne; the locket with her hair had been rent from him, when be was! taken prisoner and stripped by the French, in the attack on | Martinique. He was changed in appearance too; his hair, | once black as night, was already seamed by many a silvery thread, yet he was only two-and-thirty. His face was gauni | and wan, and bronzed by the Ludian sun and keen American | His eyes, like the eyes of all inured to facing death | ind danger, pestilence and the bullet, were fierce at times, | and keen and baggard; and whea tidings came, or it was| mooted at mess, that the war-worn regiment of Montgomery | was once again to see the Scottish shore, poor Louis looked wistfully into his glass, aud doubted whether Emmy would know him; for between the French and the Cherokees he bad acquired somewhat the aspect of a brigand.

Peace was proclaimed atdast, and the Government made | an Offer to the regiment, that such offivers and men as mizht | chvose to settle in America should have grants of land pro- | portioned to their rank and services, The rest night return to Seutland. or volunteer into other corps. A few remained among the colunists, and ow the revolt of America, in 1775, were the frst men to joinéthe standard of George LLL., who | ordered them to be embodied as the 84th or Royal Regiment | of Highland Emigrants, ~He rest—mo-t et whom volun-| teered to join the Black Watch—with the band, pipes, aud | colors, under Louis Charters, embarked at New York, and, full of hope and joy, with three hearty cheers, as their ship cleft the waters of the Hudson and bore through the Narrows, ~aw the future capital of the western world siuk in the dis- | tance and disappear astern.

Vive years!

“ Kumy must now be nearly nine-and-twenty !’’ thought Louis; * in a month from this time I shall see her—shall hear her voice—shall be beside her again, assuring her that [ am the same Louis Charters of cther days.”

But month afier mouth passed away, and six elapsed after | the sailing of the transport from New York had been duly notified by the London and the Edinburgh Gazettes, and yet uO tidings reached Britain of the missing regiment of Mont- somery.

During all these five long years—those sixty months— those one thousand eight hundred and tweury five days,every

viich had been counted by poor Louis—how fared it with the beautifal Emmy Stuart, who was still the belle of the fair city ?

one of

So far as the defective*newspapers of those days, when Kilinburgh bad only three (and those of London seldom came north), supplied intelligence, she had traced the operations of Moutgomery’s Highlanders in the Canadas, the States, on the Lakes, and ia the West Indies, in the dispatches of Brigadier Forbes, of Co onel Bouquet, Lord Rollo, and others; she bad frequently seen the name of her lover men- tioned, as having distinguished himself, and twice as having been left wounded on the field. | need not dwell ou her days aud nights of sickening sorrow and suspense, which no friend- ship could alleviate.

Save once, no letter from Louis had ever reached her; yet poor Louis had written many: from among frozen camps and bloody fields—from wet bivouaes, and places such as Kumy’s | gentle mind could never conceive —had he written to her the outpourings of his heart, believing that in due time Emmy would bt gazing fondly on the words his hand had traced, and endeavoring to Conjure up the tones in which he would have said all that distance and separation compelled him to

never reached her; yet Emmy, the belle, the coquette, re- mained true, for she knew the chances of war; and that, until the regiment returued home aud he proved false, she could not desert her lover.

But Willy Douglas of the Black Watch, who had been | all this time comfortably recruit ng about Perth and Dunkelk (thanks to his uncle, the Duke of Douglas.) was wont to remind her that the 4Uth regiment had been more than forty | years abroad, and the battalion of Montgomery mig!t be | quite as lung away.

Afier three years had passed without letters arriving, | Emmy still mourned and loved Louis more than ever; while | well meaning frieuds, who never thought of consulting the | army list, assured her that be was killed; but it availed | them nought.

Then five years elapsed, and in all that time there came | no lever; yet, when taunted that Louis had forgotten her, she replied as Cleopatra did to Alexis when he advised her to devm her lover cruel, incoustant, aud uograteful :

‘ Tecannot if I could ; these thoughts were vain ; Faithless, ungratetal, cruel if he be,

yo?

I still must love him!

| !

But time changes all things. A pleasing and sad recol- : lection was now beginning to replace her lively affection for Charters. Tired of worshipping one who had becowe little more than a beautiful statue, ber admirers had disappeared | gradually, till the assiduous Douglas alone remained in the, position of a tacit and privileged dangler. Willy wes an) hotiest-hearted fellow, and with his real jove for Eamy there was mingled much of pity fur what she suffered on account of | hi¢ *devili-h neglectful rival,” as he termed Charters. | Emmy had long been insen-ible to his addresses; but as| Douglas, who was very prepossessing, was the nephew of tie | last Duke of Doug!as, and hada handsome fortune, her father frequently, earnestly, and affectionately urged her to,

/church of St. John a handsome marble tablet to the memory

thing vague and undefined.

1 . . of the bride, her pale beauty, her rich lace, the splendour of

| actors in our little drama.

_at the crowded windows, stoops from his sajdie and whispers neigubourhood, now a {

| Louis Charters, sallow, thin, aud hollow-eyel, by long toil | aud suffering, his left arm in a sling and his right cheek

|searred by a shot, stands amid all these gaily-attired guests | jin his fightiog jacket, the scarlet of which had long since. spirits permitted him in later years tu mingle, at rarest inter- | become threadbare and purple.

atale that is told—or a tragmeut of old and forgotten | intelligence. DEATH OF THOMAS DE QUINCY. For a time a sickening and painful suspense had been kept | alive by occasional reports of pieces of wreck, with red coats and tartan fluttering about them, having been espied in the Atlantic; vessels waterlogged and abandoned had been passed | f z eeu passed | ‘This announcer ri i ic i — . - mn ement will excite - by solitary ships, and averred to be the missing transport; | rest among all lovers of Eneli 2 doer eamnernette inte craft answering ber deseripti .? | Fest among all lovers of English literature throaghout the vratt answering ber desgription had been seen to founder iv world. With his departure almost the very last of a brilliant tempests off tue banks of Newfoundiand; but after eight | band of men of letters, who illuminated the literaryhemispbere months had elapsed nothing was heard of what was empha- | of the first half of our century with starry lustre—diflering tivally called the lost regiment. )each from each in glory, but all resplendent—is extingwished. K-niy mourned now ior Louis as for one who was dead ; — only the other day that a volume of Mr. De Quincey’e one who, after all his toil and valor, suffering and constancy | ee ee = 7 a a herbal “b a, le en i : - ane a | ue Be vie HOUP When FH passe eVOn our bOorizoa (she felt assured he had been constant), was sleeping 1 the jis pure and high intellect shone ines and clear as when is great ovean that had divided them so long.

7 ; its zenith. ; Almost till the very last his perceptions were as Tired of all this, her frie ds had arrayed her in mourning vivid, his interest in knowledge and affairs as keen as ever;

as for ue who was really dead; and to carry out a pian of

realizing this conviction her father had erected in the

[From the Scotsman. ] | , . | Yesterday morning, Mr. Thomas De Quincy died here after an illness of sume weeks’ duration.

and while his bodily frame, wasted by suffering and thought, day by day faded and shrank, his mind retained unimpaired, its characteristic capaciousness, activity, and acutenesa W ithin a week or two he talked readily, and with all that delieacy of discrimination of which his conversation partook equally with his writings, and of such matters as vecupied the attention of our citizens or of our countrymen ; displaying so much of elasticity and power that even those who fad the rare privilege and opportunity of seeing him in those latter days cannot be otherwise than startled and shocked by the seeming suddenness of hig death. Yet he was full of years— having cousiderably passed>éhe term of threese re and ten. And in him, if ever in any man; ove sword may be said to. have worn out its sea»bard. Nut only tie-eontinual exerciso- of the brain, but the extreme sensibility of his @metional nature, had sy taxed and wasted his never athletic physical’ in appearance, she was not happy; fur her check was ever {T#me that the wonder lay rather in his life having been pro- pale, and her soft hazel eyes, with their hali-drooping lids, ors — 5 ee | vo ry = oe ae ce _ rn ate io 2 ; s 5 rf : > cure « Pim, ici iv Denint iim the name not only of failed to vail @ restlessness that seemed to search fur some- profound scholar in the departments he saved A ond of the greatest masters of English pure and undefiled who ever. handled the pen. He is the absolute ereatur of a species of ‘* impassioned prose’’ which he seemed born tu introduce, and in which he has no prototype, no rival, no successor. In the free exercise of his rare and peeuliar genius he swept with eagle plume through spheres far too ethereal to sustain a common flight; yet he soared not vagnely, but as bearing eit — and steady eye towasds the light of truth, Nor, , ou | while faintliar with all the mysteries of ** cloudland, gorgeo: \ The minister of St. John’s Chureh had just pronounced land,’’ was he less a deni oa of our canon ¥ a the uuptial blessing, and the pale bride was iv her mother’s keenly alive to the influence of its smiles and vears.”’ Indeed, arms, while the othvers of the Black Watch were crowding |*S be admits in his famous Confessions, Mr. De Quincy was round Douglas with their hearty congratulations ; a buzz of OMY 9 suseptble to every touch of haman sympathy ; being voices had filled the large withdrawing room, as a hum of — est, gach exquilite sensibility as theilled mith fie oo a Tae “gab, }reacdy anu deep response to every note ol gladness succceded the solemn but impressive monotony of : the marriage service, when the sharp rattle of drums and the shrill sound of the fifes ringing in the Southgate of Perth | This overwrought sensitiveness it seemed to be that caused struck upon their ears, and the measured march of feet, | him to withdraw alimost entirely from the soci ty of even his miugling with the rising huzzahs of the people, woke the | must esteemed friends, to shut himself up with his books and ecioes of every close and wynd, | manuscripts, and to remit his seclusion only at rare intervals, A foreboding smote the heart of Captain Douglas, He | FoF “ny months past he has resided in Edinburgh, preferr- sprang to a window and saw the gleam of arms; the g'itter a ee " hie ge * pamumaiie mainly for the purpose of bayonets and Lochabar axes, with the waving of piumed ‘ ted ediJo - ry the passage through the press of the col- bonnets above the heads of « crowd which poured along the lend of which che fee een being iseued by Mes rs. Hogs, & crowd Which poured aioug the | and of which the fourteenth and last yolume is nearly ready suuny vista of the Southgate; and, as the troops passed, tor public:tion. For some weeks days past his health bad led by a mounted officer whose left arm was in a sling—a | been serivusly affeeted, -but he was tr “quently an lavalid bronzed, war-worn, aud weather-beaten band—their tartans #!arm Was not excited as to his condition till very lately, and Were recognized us well as the tattered colors which streamed | the end, though it could nut be said to be eitler sudden or in rivbous on the wind, and their name weut from mouth to PrewAtare, was yet so far unexpected. Nothing that the sat |"most earnest and devoted medical skill could supply was

ot : 4 . wanting to alleviate the symptoms of was ultimately rather Che Lost Reziment—the Highlanders of Montgomery ! ‘rapid decay than disease ; and as far as such days a hours

A low ery burst from Einmy ; she threw up her clasped cau be, these mortal hours of his were suvthed and cheered hands, and sunk in a dead faint at her mother’s feet. All | by the gentlest and most tender filial sulicitude and care. Was consternation ia the houre of Stuart of Tullynairn; aud | Two of Mr. De Quiacy’s daughters, his youngest and eldest, the marriage gues's gazed at the passing so diers, as at some | Wee with him at the close. The second, the wife of Culunel fasciuating but uoreal pageant; but on they marched, cheer- | — ae in oo with her husband ; one of his sons is ing, te the barracks, with drums beating and pipes playing; also In India ; one of his sons is also ia India, a captain in the

| wi, 2 ari the other, a physician, is Srazi The e aud uow the mounted officer, who had beeu yazing wistfully dincbine is the wife Me Mr. Rob 0 Gon ae oe

armer in Land . a few words to another—Alaster the One-handed, now a called to her father’s death-bed ; tae gona” captain—then he turns his horse, and, dismounting at the) Though living, as we have syid, Eenerally in studied ae- door, is heard to ascend the stair, and in another moment, °!@sivn, Mr. De Quiney had many friends who will be sadden- by the announcement of his temoyal ; no one eould have even casual intercouse with such a man without ever after- wards cherishing towards him a ‘eciing of kindly und admiring interest. When his often feeble health ana al ways ansettein

of Charters; and this cold waite slab in memoriam met Emmy's heavy eyes every time she raised them from ber prayer-book ou Sunday. So at last Louis was dead; she felt couvinced of it, and, with a reluctant and foreboding nind, she consented to a marriage with Captain Douglas of the Black Watch; a consent in which she had but one thought, that im making this terrible sacrifice she was only seeking to suothe the anxiety and gratify the solicitations of her mother, who was now well up in the vale of years, and who loved her teuderly.

Kinwy was piacid and content; but though even cheerful

They were married. We will pass over the appearance all the accessories by which the wealth of her father, of her husband, and the solicitade of her kind friends surrounded her, and come to the crzsis in our story —a crisis in which a lamentable fatality seemed to rule the destiuies of the chief

The still, sad music of humanity.”

Vals, in a small sucial circle at his own house, or elsewhere, He immediately approached Emmy, who had now partially bh¢é was alway onc of the most cheerfal of the party, touching recovered and gazed at him, as one might gaze at a spectre, /@Very topic with the lights of his exquisitely delieate faney,

when Douglas threw himself forward with a band ou his and enjoying, with catholic zest, now the playful prattie of a

child, and again the sharp encounter of maturest wits. Llis conversation had an inexpressible eliarm—with all that Leauty of language, sublety of thought, variety of illustration, and “have quaintness of humor that di-tinguish his writings, his talk

sword, * What is the meaning of all this ?” said Louis, who grew ashy pale, and whose voice sank into Emmy’s soul ;

| you all forgotten me—Louis Charters of Moutgomery’s never either became pedantic, or degenorated into soliluguy

Regiment ?” or monologue. It was that of a highly acoumplished gentle- ~ No,” replied Douglas, “but your presence here at such ™22 ; his whole manner and bearing had something of almost pt unfeeling and inopportune.” ee rous polish and refinement of tone, the result not more e Unteeling oa inopportane—|—Miss Stuart--Emmy—” ot intercourse with refined suciety than of his exquisitely con-

; } siderate and courteous nature. “A nature so deep and te . Miss : a : , ; ' - A nature sv deep ana tender Stuart has just been made my wedded wile; thus drew towards itselt affection as largely as admiration; and

any remarks you bave to make sir, you will please address to with profound esteem for the learning, the power, the genius me.” jof the writer, will always mingle much of lave for the Louis started as if a scorpion had stung him, and his|man. It wall be Jong beiore the literature of Kugland can trembling hand sought the hilt of his sword; here the old boast renewal of suci a rare combination of sehul rslip, of minister addressed him kindly, imploringly, and the guest- 84 Yte force. of acute reasoning, and courageous speculation, crowded betweon them, but he dathal sueen alaueis “nal | with seek imaginative power and deep allem bracing sympathy satiiell thin tedidieen cities seine glance from Kmmy ! ae this generation has had of knowing in Thomas De Quincey, dismay had frozen ber, und mute despair glared in her | , haggard yet still beautiful eyes. AUSTRIAN OPPRESSION IN HUNGARY. * Half ao hour earlier and [ had saved her and saved my- |

i ‘ Io rl “ -* : self!” exclaimed Charters, bitterly; ‘the half hour 1) A letter from Pesth gives a remarkable instance of the

\citered in Starthearu!” for he bad halted there to refresh eo oe J gs aaa See ae ;

his weary soldiers. b alat eal kes ; ore ee - } ‘cultivation of tobseco is one of the most profitable thi