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Whý he hath made the eve bleat for the lamb;

He first attempts to reconcile Bassanio to his You may as well forbid the mountain pines

impending fate, by reminding him of his wrecked To wag their high tops, and to make no noise When they are fretted with the gusts of Heaven ;

fortunes, his shattered hopes, his crushed and You may as well do anything most liard

blighted prospects; and then enjoins him to bar. As seck to soften that, (than which what's harder P) rate the circumstances of his death to his beloved His Jewish heart. Therefore, I do beseech you wife, that she may know her husband's worth, Make no more offers, use no further means,

and friendship's sacred power, Like Damon, But, with all brief and plain conveniency

friendship was the goddess of his idolatry; and Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will."

when death had closed his mortal pilgrimage, he In this there is exquisite pathos and exquisite ardently desired tlint she should be worshipped poetry.

ånd adored with a devotion as intense, and a reseBut the Doctor of Laws is announced. Bas. rence as profound, as he himself had felt and sanio derives new encouragement.

He tries to shown. cheer his friend, and declares

Bassanio, deeply moved, energetically answers« The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all, Erc thou shalt lose for ine one drop of blood !”

“ Antonio, I am married to a wife,

Which is as dear to me as life itself; This is the resolution of a novle nature, and sub

But life itself, any wife, and all the world, limes the character of Bassanio.

Antonio per

Are not with me esteem'd aborc thy lifesuasively replies

I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all,

Here, to this devil, to deliver yon.”
“I am a tainted wether of the flock,
Meetest for death; the weakest kind of fruit

Friendship was regarded by Shakspeare as the
Drops earliest to the ground: and so let me.
You cannot better be employed, Bassanio,

highest degree of spirituality of which humanity is Than to live still, and write miné epitaph."

capable, and hence, in this speech of Bassanio, all

human things, and all human relations, are sub«have been smitten with the shafts of fortune; ordinated to its claims. He makes Bassanio ready adversity has frowned upon my earthly lot. Let to sacrifice his loving spouse, his worldly possessions, me die; and live thou, to benefit and bless thy

even his own life, all that is dear and valuable on kind, and write mine epitaph.' Antonio sees

earth, freely and unliesitatingly upon its altar. the immortality and glory of an epitaph written by the man he died to save.

And yet there is no lof the judgment scene.
Of course, everyone is acquainted with the sequel

The Jew is bailed and impurity of motive here, for it would proclaim to beggared. The friends, transported at their progenerations yet unborn the moral beauty and the vidential deliverance, set out together for the seat transcendent excellence of genuine friendship. It

of Portia, where they spend a delightfal season of would teach mankind how to live and how to die festivity, and taste again the sweets of friendship, to It would confound the misanthrope, and consoli- which they had, by an almost miraculous interposidate the union of society.

tion, been restored. One scene more, and we close. Judgment has

In fine, if our readers receive as much benefit and been pronounced against the merchant. The in- pleasure as ourselves in tracing the interesting bisviolable laws of Venice sanction Shylock's bond. || tory of this faithful pair

, they will not regret the Antonio thus bids a final farewell

hour they have devoted to their portraits in the « Give me your hand, Bassanio. Fare you well! gallery of the "Amicitiæ Shakspeariave." Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you;

We have been benefited, because ia contemplating For herein fortune shows herself more kind

such fine specimens of human nature, we admire; in Than is her custom. It is still her use To let the wretched man outlivc his wealth,

admiring, we esteem; in esteeming, we love; and love, To view, with hollow eye and wrinkled brow,

vinding the soul to the object with soft, resistless An age of poverty; from which lingering penance power, stainps upon it the very lineamcats, the Of such a misery doth she cut me off.

very impress of the character contemplated. While Commend me to your hononrable wife;

we regard Antonio, ve become Antonio, His etheTell her the process of Antonio's end,

rial nature spiritualizes ours. We have also bees Say how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death, And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge

pleased, because the healthy action of our moral Whether Bassanio had not once a lovo.

powers, either in admiring or imitating the great, Repent not you that you shall lose your friend,

the noble, and the good, copfers a satisfaction as And be repents not that he pays your debt;

pure, and a felicity as perfect, as the soul of mas For, if the Jew do cut but deep enough,

is capable of enjoying. I'd pay it instantly, with all my heart,"



Or all the sweet months of the year
There's none like rosy July!

When heath is purple, verdure lies
The early sun shines warın and clear,

O'er mountain breasts in rich display;
And flowers have open'd fully:

When Summer-blossoms meet the eyes
All sparkling is the world at noon,

Where'er our wandering footsteps stray ;
At eve the air breathes coolly;

When cascades leap in dazzling sheen,
Of all the sweet months of the year,

And nature's grandest form is seen,
There's none like rosy July!

I love my native hills to see,
Young April has its smiles and tears,

Those heath-clad haunts of infancy!
And May its opening roses;
And though the sun in joy appears,

I've seen Hibernia's vernal land,
Oft darkness round him closes.

Like Titan rising from the sea;
And even though June brings forth new bloom,

As if some fairy with her wand
Though Suniner reigns more trnly-

Had form’d a world alone, and free!
Of all the s'eet months of the year,

I've seen fair England's lofty towers,
There's none like rosy July!

Aud France in her frivolity;

Bat dearer, far, is still to me,
The birds aboon are in full tune,

Those heath-clad haunts of infancy.
With joy the woodlands ringing;
The haw-thorn trees perfume the breeze,

There's not a spot on this fair earth,
And all the world is singing!

That warms my heart and charms mine era
The butterfly and bee sweep by,

That calls such joyous thoughts to birth,
To blossoms open'd newly-

Or can such careless hours supply,
Of all the sweet months of the year,

As those gigantic cliffs of old,
There's none like rosy July!

Where clouds and tempests revel free

Where Summer spreads etherial gold,

My heath-clad haunts of infancy!
come, sveet maid with me

Where Lugar'as stream is flowing,
While the evening sun,

His race hath run,
And the clouds his crimson showing

Cout, let us depart from our sorrow,
My liome is 'mong the hills, love,

And hear what each other may say;
Where zephyr's rével free,

Perhaps the bright beams of to-morrow
Two merry hearts,

Will chase all the clouds of today!
Love never parts

Contentment is better than richies,
Shall there unito in glee!

And easier far to be had ;
Then come, sweet maid! with mo

A fig for the cares that enslave us,

To-day we'll be merry and glad.
All day we'll wander forth

So, let us depart from our sorrow.
Where the wild flowers sweet are growing,
O'er the mountain side,

Our ancestors lov'd to be merry,
With stately pride,

Nor pined at the darkness of fate;
While the Summer sun is gloving.

They sang, and they quaff”d off their cherry
I'll never dream of care, love!

Until every bosom grew great!
When once along with thee,

They chatted and laughed in their glory,
While joy and love,

And chased every sorrow away,
Like all above,

By chanting some comical story
Shall with us constant be;

That happen'd in life's early day.
Then come, sweet maid! with me.

So, let us depart from our sortow!




Down in the valley, when the bright sun had set,
In silence and sorrow, two fond lavors met ;

Down in that valley, when live long years had gone, For Henry that morning had promised to go

One evening strayed Mary, still grieving, alone.
Mar o'er the ocean, to fight England's foe.

She gazed on the spot where that parting took place,
While the tear-drops of mem'ry suứused her sweet face.

Poor Mary! her heart was o'erwhelm'd with despair ;

She heard coming footsteps—was hastening away, Woe-worn were her features, dishevelled her hair.

When a voice cried, “Oh, stay Mary! stay, my love, stay !" She wept not-she could not--but heav'd a deep sigh,

She knew it-she turned-in a moment was pressed As she muttered, “Oh, Henry! I doubt I shall die !"

To the heart of her Henry--her sorrows at rest. TII. “Nay! speak not of dying, my Mary," said he ;

“Said I not, my dear Mary, I'd come back from sea, “ With wealth and with honours I'll come back to thee;

With honours and wealili, and a heart true to thee? And here in this valley will build thee a home,

Now I've gold on my shoulder, and gold in my purse, While I never again from my Mary shall roam."

And my lieart you will find's not a furtlving the worse. IV.

"Now, look up, derrest Mary, the wars are all o'er ; She heard, but replied not; she ceased e'en to sigh;

Our foes are subdued, and we'll never part more, No word from her lip, and no tear from her eye.

For here I will anchor the rest of my life, He kiss' the fair statue, then took him to fight;

And leave the big world to its noise and its strife.” For he dared not look more on that soul-melting sight,

COLIN Ras Brows.




In the galaxy of brilliant names which illumi-l takeu in it by the mountain clans, had, howerer, nate our military annals, there are probably few seriously alarmed the Government of that day, and which Britons regard with more honest pride, and prompted a more close inspection of Scotland and almost affectionate interest, than that of the young her warlike hill-tribes. As already said, little was and gallant Wolfe. This arises, not less from his known of the Highlands, beyond what fatal esconsummate genius in the art of war, than from perience had recently taught, namels, that their the nobleness of soul and gentleness of disposition | dreary recesses were filled with wild and hardy by which he was distinguished; while the sentiment warriors, who held the comparatively peaceful men in his favour is deepened, and our feelings stimu- ll of the plains in contempt, for cultivating vocations lated, by reflecting on the splendour of his great opposed to their own, of clan-strife and war. They and final achievement, when, on the heights of were, therefore, ready, on the least signal from their Abraham, victory snatched him too soon from his chiefs, to descend with the fury of a mouutain temcountry, and claimed him as her own. Anything, | pest on the inhabitants of the Lowlands, and carry therefore, which tends to illustrate the life and cast devastation around them, with little or no check at of thought of this excellent man, and real hero, can- the hands of a timid government. not fail to prove interesting. A small packet of There is a very curious and instructire report to letters, written by Wolfe to a rery intimate friend | George I., by Wade, the intelligent and able miliand brother officer, having been lately discovered tary officer he had sent to reconnoitre the Highamongst the papers of a relative of that friend, in lands, and bring back an account of their military Glasgow, access has been kindly allowed to them, || strength, resources, and prevalent political sentiand permission given to make extracts.

ment, with such suggestions as seemed to the GeneBut, before approaching these letters, now for || ral best calculated to hold this troublesome frontier the first time made public, and roused from the dust in check, and promote the internal improrement of of nearly a century, some remarks on the aspect of the hill-country. The report bearsdate 31st Januars, the times in which Wolfe lived, and a brief sketch | 1725, shortly beforethe monarch's death, and ten years of his own history, seem to be necessary, in order | after the Rebellion of 1715, which, as already said, to elucidate the contents of the packet, and that Wolfe's father had assisted in suppressing. This the import may be better understood.

ablo report is characterised by the discrimination and James Wolfe was born on the 2d January, 1727, || calm, good sense for which Wade was remarkable. at Westerham, in Kent. This pretty little town is In it he gives an account of the features of the vild situated near the west border of the county, on the region, estimating the fighting men at about 29,000, declivity of a hill overlooking the romantic stream of whom fully one half were disaffected to the of the Dart, which rises in the vicinity, and, after | King, the kind and quality of their arms, mode of pursuing a meandering course through a district warfare, and cattle-thiering propensities. It conof much natural beauty, falls into the Thames, be- tains a recommendation to have the clans properly low London. Jle was the only son of the veteran disarmed, their country held with a firin grasp by General Edward Wolfe, who had distinguished || means of forts, and rendered more accessible to the himself under Marlborough, and in the suppression King's troops by lines of military roads. How of the Scotch Rebellion of 1715. Destined, in like curious to read his description of a country and manner, for the profession of arms, young Wolfe was a people, then nearly as dangerous to visit as the taken from his studies, part of which had been at the American wilds, but which is now the farourite College of Glasgow, and entered the regiment which || retreat of royalty itself for recreation from the bore his father's name, at the early age of fifteen. 1 weight of State cares, and the chosen resort of This was in 1741, only four years previous to the tourists from every clime. last Rebellion, The period at which he thus be- The report was acted upon. To Wade ras ascame a soldier was one of uncommon interest in signed the duty of carrying out his own recommenthe national history. It was in the interval be-dations of disarming the clans, and constracting tween two rebellions, when the northern part of the the roads. The former was a delicate task, which island, but more especially that section included in he executed with judicious moderation ; so much the Highlands, was comparatively little known and so, that even Rob Roy wrote him a curious letter

, little cared for, Indeed, of the Highlands it may still preserved, praising that moderation, and safely be said that tho greatest ignorance had, till soliciting his clemency. The military roads were about the year of Wolfe's birth, prevailed. The carried into the heart of the Scottish wilderness edge of the ancient animosity between the people | Two main lines were formed, and attest, at the dis. of the northern and the southern divisions of this tance of more than 100 years, the skill of this excel island, now happily broken and removed, was still lent officer. He took the ancient Roman Iters for keen. The Scottish mind was filled with distrust; || his model, and, in fact, started his roads from their it rankled with the remembrance of the treachery || venerable lines, at nearly right angles west and which forced on Scotland the then hated Union. || north-west, across the dreary country, towards the The Hanoverian succession was by no means popu- pre-existing forts on the chain of the great Scottish lar in the north ; and man's minds fluctuated || lakes, now connected by the Caledonjan Canal

. between the old and the new race of kings. These roads stretched over 250 miles; and 500

The Rebellion of 1715, and the prominent part soldiers laboured upwards of 11 years in their for

mation. They were finished in 1737, about the major. The latter, brave as a lion, yet kindly in time that Wolfe was a student at Glasgow College. his disposition as a young child ; the former, the

Such was Scotland in his day; and it was in counterpart of a tiger in all its cruelty and bloodthat country that he wrote the first of the letters thirstiness. Wolfe, a prodigy of military skill; to be quoted from. As already stated, Wolfe Cumberland, indebted to the accident of being a entered the army in 17+1. Soon afterwards (the king's son for a command which tarnished our arms precise date is uncertain, but before the battle of at Fontenoy, outraged humanity in Scotland, and, Culloden) this young officer was stationed, as a at a later period, compelled him to retire from the subaltern, with a body of troops, at the small fort | army, a disgrace to his profession, haunted by the of Inversnaid, built soon after the Rebellion of ghosts of the murdered old men, the wounded brave, 1715, at the mouth of the romantic gorge stretching the helpless women and children ruthlessly cut down between Loch Lomond and the wild and picturesque by this detestable and well-named "human butcher.” region round Loch Ketturin and the Trossachs, to | A single illustration will show the truth of this conkeep the turbulent M Gregors and Rob Roy in trast. When riding over the field of battle, after the check. This fortified ravine formed the line of engagement, the Duke observed the young Colonel demarkation between the countries of the bold of the Frazer Regiment lying wounded. frazer M'Gregors, and of the loyal and once numerous raised himself on his elbow, and looked at Cumberclan Buchanan; the upper shores of Loch Lomond land, who, offended, turned and said, “Wolfe! skirting the former, and the lower the Buchanan's shoot me that Highland scoundrel, who thus dares territory, which last included the lofty, broad. || to look upon us with so insolent a stare !” Wolfe, shouldered Ben, and the group of beautiful, green- || horrified at this inhuman order, coolly replied that wooded islots that stud the bosom of the “ Queen | his commission was at his Royal Highness's disof Scottish Lakes," affording friendly access to the posal, but that he never would consent to become troops, or “red soldiers,'' sent up from Dumbarton an executioner. Other officers also refusing, a Castle in boats.

private soldier, at the Duke's command, shot the The grey ruins of this antique little Inversnaid gallant, wounded young Frazer before his eyes! Fort still linger in peaceful repose. The armed In the following year (1747), Wolfe distinguished men who there kept ward, and the fiery tribes they | himself very much by his personal bravery at were intended to overawe, have alike long passed the battle of Lafeldt, in Austrian Flanders. He away. But there it stands, as their memorial—its was present at every engagement during that war, old walls, in some places, kindly screened from the and never without distinction. He also applied wild mountain blast by the mantling ivy, while the himself closely, not only to the improvement of his nettle and foxglove rustle within, as the summer own military talents, but to the introduction and wind plays idly through the ruins. The little mili- maintenance of the most exact discipline in the tary graveyard, too, may still be traced, in which corps, then generally too little attended to. This the bones of the brave mouldered into dust, with its he did without any unnecessary severity. He small, white headstones partially hid under mossy showed himself, in all his relations, a good, a brave, tufts and tangled weeds; but still telling us, in an intelligent, and high-minded soldier. quaintly-shaped letters, that parties of the Buffs In 1749, the year after the peace, he was sta(which afterwards fought at Culloden), and other tioned in Glasgow, and, during his stay there, was reginients, from time to time lay there.

promoted Lieutenant-Colonel of Kingsley's RegiThe scene is even more impressive when viewed ment. But the Glasgow of that period was a very difby night, with the beams of an autumnal moon ferent town from the city of the present day. Its streaming and sparkling on the dusky lake, illumi- | population did not exceed 20,000; and it did not nating the ruin in some places with a silvery light, stretch farther along its now great arterial street, and throwing the deep, elongated shadows of other than the head of Stockwell on the west, and portions on the pale background. Silence, the where the old Saracen's Head Inn yet stands, at the most profound, reigns, broken only at intervals by | ancient Gallowgate port, on the east. Indeed, it the low moan of the night-wind, and the melan- was in that very year that this fine old hotel, the choly cry of the owl, as of some sprite wailing over first, and for many a day the most celebrated in the past.

the city, and west of Scotland, was erected. There We can imagine the talented young soldier, sur- were no barracks in Glasgow then; and Wolfe, derounded by the grandeur of nature, which must have sirous of retirement to pursue his studies in Latin made a deep impression on his sensitive mind, and Mathematics, which had been interrupted by studying, in this little Highland fortlet, that art his early admission into the army, lodged a short which, at no distant day, was to make his pame way out of town, in the now droll-looking old vilillustrious. How long Wolfo remained at Inverlage of Camlachie, then quite a rural spot. The snaid and Dumbarton is uncertain ; but we next || house he lived in was pulled down only three or four find him serving under the Duke of Cumberland, || years ago, and stood at the north-west corner of the it the battle of Culloden, in 1746. Wolfe must road leading down to a villa afterwards built, and lave had rapid promotion, for he was by that time named Crownpoint, after one of the celebrated · Major (at the age of 20), and acted as aide-de- scenes of conflict in North America. This residence amp to the worthless General Hawley on that of Wolfe was a small, quaint-looking, two-story loody day.

house; and we can fancy the young Colonel, in this Never was there a greater contrast than between primitive and peaceful abode, at the age of twenty le brutal Cumberland and the amiable young ||two, acquiring part of his education through the instrumentality of a Glasgor schoolmaster! This|| England, and "Folfe and Howe were not bask ward we learn from the first letter of the series to be in expressing their judicoation at the blondering afterwards quoted. Let not people think slight- / which led to this unsuceessful result. Wolfe's sen. ingly of Camlachie village, in connection with timents on this expedition ars expressed in the Wolfe's name.

It is the most ancient of the su- 1 letter No. 9, written to his friend after coming burbs, and is mentioned in the chartulary of Glas- homo. gow prior to the year 1,300, the days of Sir William Pitt now turned his attention to the French Wallacc and Robert the Bruce. The name is possessions in North America, and determined to genuine Celtic, and has been imposed at a very || strike a blow there. An expedition was accordingly remote time. The etymology is “the crooked ordered against Louisbourg, the prineipal town of water," singularly descriptive of the tortuous burn Cape Breton. Wolfe was again employed. The which intersects the village, and there forms the principal command was committed to General boundary of the royalty.

Amherst, a good officer, having under hiin Wolfe While thusstationed in Glasgow, Wolfe was called and three other brigadiers, with a foree of 13,000 apon to the somewhat inglorious duty of suppress-men, and a powerful feet. The expedition sailed ing a riot in the town, caused by a party of resor- l) from England early in 1758. The letter No. 11 rectionists raising a dead body! It is uncertain was written immediately before embarking. In how long Wolfe remained at Glasgow; but it would this important affair Wolfe behared with the rather appear, from one of the letters, that he was greatest skill and intrepidity. Louisbourg had a still there in 1750. By this time the friend to whom numerous garrison; and the shore, for more than they were written had embarked, with a division seven miles, was defended by a chain of posts, with of the army, under Cornwallis, for the purpnse intrenchments and batteries. In order to distract of settling a strong British colony in Nova Scotia, || the enemy's attention a false attack was resolved on, which had been much neglected. The town of to mask the realene which was to be made by Wolle. Halifas, fortified with a wooden palisade, began | His division consisted of the grenadiers and light into rise in the wilderness. At that time Britain still infantry of the army, with Frazer's Highlanders. held the splendid region, now the United States, Before break of day of the 8th June, the troops were and the French possessed Canada. There was much embarked in the boats; and, while the false attsek bickering between the two countries, in regard to was going on under Brigadiers Whitmore and Lauthe encroachments by France on the British terri- rence, Wolfe's division, under cover of the fire of tory, more particularly along the Ohio. This ended several frigates and eloops, Hashed boldly towards in that war, which, a few years after, drew Wolfe the shore, through a tremendous sarf, wbich upset to his destiny. This will explain the circumstances several of the boats, and drowned a number of sol. under which the second, and so:re of the other let-diers. The landing place was defended by a large ters, were written by him to his friend.

body of French troops, intrenehod behind a batWe find from this curious correspondence that, intery of eight guns. They reserved their fire till 1751, Wolfe had been removed to Banff'; and he the English came close, when they opened with appears to have finally quitted Scotland in, or prior great execution. But nothing could resist Wolfe's to, 1754. Some curious matter will be found in impetuous attack. He was the first officer to leap letters Nos. 4, 6, 7, expressive of Wolfe's views of lon shore, amidst a shower of bullets, and issued his the Highlands, and the proper way of keeping orders with his usual coolness and precision. Headthem in subjection, consequent on his residence in, ding, in person, the light infantry and Highlanders, and observation of, that section of the kingdom. lie carried every thing before hin at the point of the Without following him in all his movements, it bayonet, pursuing the onemy to the very walls of may be said that, when the elder Pitt came into | Louisbourg. The town was invested ; and, by a power, in 1757, he resolved, if possible, to remove series of skilful maneuvres on the part of Wolfe, he the stains which various reverses had thrown on mainly contributed to the final capture of this imour arms, by employing officers of known skill and portant place. This conduct throughout this affair was enterprise, instead of thoso imbeciles who had been the theme of general admiration, both in the army too often in command under former administrations, and at home, and tended still more to raise him in the more particularly that of the Duke of Newcastle. || estimation of Mr. Pitt. That able minister had sigAmong the first of Pitt's plans was a descent on nified his wish, when conferring on Wolfe the rank of the French coast at Rochefort. In this affair Brigadier, preparatory to setting out on the LouisWolfe was employed. But the warlike minister bourg expedition, that, immediately after its tererred, in not sufficiently defining his plan of ope- || mination, he should return to England, instead of ration, and in dividing and frittering the command remaining with the troops abroad. Wolfe accordamong no less than seven officers. The conseqnences ingly did so, and the letter No. 12 was written were what might have been expected. Differences after his return. In it, ho comments freely on the of opinion arose among the commanders, followed expedition, and does not appear to have thought at by irresolution and fatal delays. Wolfe in vain all favourably of the plan of attack ; in fact, he says urged instant and vigorous action. In this he was he anticipated a repulse. This letter is the last of seconded by the gallant young Howe, a naval offi- the packet, and is the more interesting as being cer with whom he had contracted a close intimacy |dated only about two months before departing again as a kindred spirit; but to no purpose. They were for America on his final and memorable campaign orer.ruled by the other five; and, finally, the en- | against Quebec. terprise completely failed. The troops returned to The object of Pitt's wish to have Wolfe back to

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