early stage of his prosperity, he took advantage of a King's Fast Day, and hied him thither, the first house which he visited, and which he gladdened, being that of the good Samaritan, who took him in to her ingle side, and who fed and clothed him at the crisis of his life. And a proud woman was she on that morning of sunshine, when he saluted her as the most considerate friend he ever possessed after the loss of his exemplary mother. And then, when he declared that it did him more good than it could possibly yield to her, that it afforded him greater pleasure than it could send to her heart to acknowledge his obligations to her, the old woman actually cried and fondled him as if he had been one of her own bairns. "It is a providence,” she declared, “that he had come at that precise period, for that she and her old man were sorely cast down, and in need of a smiling countenance to revive and cheer them. We have lost ane on whom our hearts were ower-anxiously set; my gude man's constitution is fairly broken; and what, peradventure is worse than a', I have na' the spirit I was wont to have, so that each day looks more oppressive than its forerunner. Not that we are in such poverty as to have the fear o' want before our eyes; but somehoo life is like to grow a burden to us in our latter days, when, on the contrary, we should be joyfully ripening for another and a better world. But Dan," she continued, with her former blythe expression and re-awakened taste for earthly blessings and comfort, "your visit, and in the condition you are, has chased awa' all that is gloomy and morose about me, I verily believe; and in that case I shall try to bring my auld man into the same way of thinking, and then we may toddle on as was our wont, till we sleep the gither at the foot of the brae that we have so often climbed side by side." The garrulous matron would have proceeded much longer in this tone had not the weaver checked the current by saying that he trusted he would never cease to visit his native village and his friends in it once or twice a year.

The next spots that our hero on this first visit resorted to, were those which, by some kind of poetic fiicton, had become consecrated to him during that interval of dreaming, ruminating, and aimless wandering, at the period when people set him down as a confirmed drone and a useless idler. In those fields, and by those hedge-rows he had held severe communings with himself, and had been fortifying his mind by many struggles against the demon of indolence, perhaps of profligacy, until the morbidity was entirely mastered, and he again walked with an upright head and a steady heart. Nor did his late virago landlady, she who so summarily dealt with his nether portions of raiment, pass unforgiven or unthanked. The proverbial speech, that "Men will praise thee when thou doest well to thyself," was too wholesome and instructive to go without hearty acknowledgement

Such were some of the beautiful results manifested on the occasion when

Daniel Dempster first visited his birth-place, after leaving it in the dismal plight already described. But the fruits of this first return were meagre indeed to those which afterwards were every year on the increase; until, in truth, there was not a needy person in the village, not an unpensioned poor person in the parish. And what, to his dying day, was his frequent grateful asseveration? Why, that for every penny which he considerately bestowed in charity, a double portion seemed instantly to be returned to him.

Mark you, his prudence and vigilance kept pace with his bounties. Works on a gigantic scale he planned-there was not a new improvement within his sphere which he did not snatch at, oft anticipating its capabilities. The consequences were, that entire and populous villages arose under his eye, which were as anxiously provided with intellectual and moral instruction, or with lessons how to tread the paths to independent wealth. Extraordinary was the happiness which he himself enjoyed, even in this world,-wonderful the comforts which he ministered to all who followed his example and counsel. Charity in its widest sense was the grand lever with which he worked: his benevolence and liberality were only exceeded by his growing opulence.

Perhaps he was partly guided by Franklin to his plan of assisting many meritorious persons in seasons of difficulty; for he would say, with that philanthropist, "Some time or other you may have an opportunity of assisting, with an equal sum, a stranger who has equal need of it. Do so. By that means you will discharge any obligation you may suppose yourself under to me. Enjoin him to do the same on occasion. Let kind offices go round. Mankind are all of a family."

His benevolence and sympathy took even a higher range. "The most shameless characters will, in general," he would in effect observe, "be found to be those who have had the least opportunity of knowing what is good; who, from the misfortunes of their childhood, have been thrown loose upon society, and accustomed, from their earliest years, to low and degenerate infamy. Indeed, on whatever forms of vice we fix our attention, something will occur to palliate. If, then, we would assume the station of some superior being, qualified to sit as judge on man,-himself exempt from human weaknesses, and only the spectator of human conduct-even from such a station we would scarcely look down on the most poor mortal creature, with any other emotions than those of tenderness and pity. True, we should be astonished with the view of extravagant folly; we should be shocked at the sight of detestable guilt; we should be confounded with seeing a creature formed to be good and happy, immersing itself in depravity, and running headlong to destruction, yet there will be always something in man which will make pity predominate; and even when we are in horror at the hardened ruffian dealing in blood and breathing fury, we should recollect the

innocent playfulness of the same creature, while yet a child in its mother's arms."

The characters of great men, if good, are exemplary, and often stimulate the well-disposed to an imitation, beneficial to mankind, and honourable to themselves. Surely, then, the perseverance and integrity, the eminence and the public spirit of such a personage as Daniel Dempster, must have found admirers and followers throughout a large neighbourhood, and on the part, perhaps, of some who would never, without such an example, and such teaching, have taken note of the importance of industry and honesty, even as respects prosperity and happiness in this world of competition and rivalry.

QUICK PROMOTION.

THE following anecdote was related to the writer, by the late General Déspreaux, of Lyons :—

"While I was captain of the 16th Chasseurs á Cheval, my duty called me, after the disasterous affair of Waterloo, to be in immediate attendance on Napoleon, as captain of the guard. One day, as he was mounting his horse, at the Tuilleries, the animal was restless, the Emperor, for a second, could not gain the stirrup; I instantly held it steady, while he sprung into the saddle. Merci, Colonel,' thoughtfully exclaimed Napoleon; I answered, by what impulse prompted I know not, but certainly more in jest, than with seriousness, 'Dequel Régiment, Sire? and never shall I forget his of sorrow, or my own surprise, when he turned towards me, saying, 'Helas! vous n'avez que trop de choix ! The following day found me Colonel of the Mousquetaires Rouge. Thank you, Colonel, of what regiment, Sire? Alas you have but too great a choice!

Friendship is of such a delicate texture, that an unwary breath may blight its beauty, a heedless jest destroy it; so that it only ought to formed on the basis of good temper and good sense.

Friendship can never be made, nor subsist, without perfect candour and great mutual freedom, but that freedom is only allowable within the limits of good nature, according to the feelings and sense of him to whom it is applied. If he can bear none, use none. But it is difficult to tolerate the freedom of another, who will not allow us the same privilege.

Demosthenes thought the greatest honour of a state to be, that her neighbours sue to her for protection, and entreat her sanction to settle their treaties. How honoured, then, must England be; safe itself, and capable of extending security to others.

JUNE, 1845.

M M

WINDSOR CASTLE.

THE magnificent residence of the British Sovereigns, is most delightfully situated on the summit of a hill, whose base towards the north is laved by the pelucid waters of the Thames. The prospects to the east, west, and north, are extensive and beautiful, being enlivened by the windings of the river, and variegated with elegant mansions, luxuriant meadows, and gentle eminences covered with the rich foliage of innumerable woods. On the south the view is bounded by the wild and picturesque scenery of the forest, intermingled with a great variety of verdant accompaniments.

Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain;

Here earth and water seem to strive again;

Not, chaos like, together crushed and bruised,
But, as the world, harmoniously confused;
Where order in variety we see,

And where, though all things differ, all agree.

Strikingly beautiful is its situation, and intimately connected with some of the proudest events of British history, an Englishman approaches it with mingled feelings of reverence and pleasure. "It is a place," says a modern writer, "full of storied and poetical associations. The very external aspect of the proud pile is enough to inspire high thought. It rears its irregular walls and massive towers, like a mural crown, round the brow of a lofty ridge, waves its royal banner in the clouds, and looks down with a lordly air upon the surrounding world." Few places indeed can supply such high food for the poet or the philosopher. We gaze alike upon the birth-spot and the burial-ground of many kings and royal personages-their first and their last home. The very fabric itself is an emblem of the vanity of worldly power. At one moment we are traversing lofty galleries that have been honoured with the presence of the great, and graced by the loveliness of the noble; and the next we are hurried to the neighbouring chapel, and are told that the objects of our admiration are resting beneath our feet.

Windsor Castle owes its origin to William the Conqueror, who erected a fortified palace on this spot as a hunting seat. He also designed the parks, extending the boundaries of the forest, and established rigid laws for the preservation of the game. Since his time, this stately pile has been the principal seat of British royalty, one sovereign after another enlarging and improving the castle, till at length it has acquired a magnitude and a grandeur that are unparallelled. The alterations made by Henry the First were so important and numerous, that many writers have given him the honour of founding it. But one of the most interesting eras in the annals of Windsor, as well as of the domestic history of