the beautiful vale of Nith-humbling into dust, as he arises, the gifted weaver who preaches, the inspired cordwainer who expounds, and the upstart grocer who holds rule-the two former over men's minds, and the latter over men's bodies? There's my Lord Carnwath. At this moment I heard the sounding of trumpets, and the rushing of horses behind us; and ere I could turn round, my cavalier said, in the same equal and pleasant tone in which he was making his curious communication of human character,

Fair lady, here be strange auditors, some of my friend General Willis's troopers come to try the edges of their new swords. Halbert, lead this fair lady to a place where she may see what passes-and now for the onset, Walter Selby.' The latter, exchanging a glance with me, turned his horse's head; swords were bared in a moment; and I heard the dash of their horses, as they spurred them to the contest, while a Scottish soldier hurried me towards the town. I had not the courage to look back-the clashing of swords, the knelling of carabines, the groans of the wounded, and the battle shout of the living, came all blended in one terrible sound-my heart died within me. I soon came up to the Scottish mountaineers, who, with their swords drawn, and their targets shouldered, stood looking back on the contest, uttering shouts of gladness, or shrieks of sorrow, as their friends fell or prevailed. I looked about, and saw the skirmish, which at first had only extended to a few blows and shots, becoming bloody and dubious; for the enemy, reinforced with fresh men, now fairly charged down the open road, and the place where they contended was soon covered with dead and dying. I shrieked aloud at this fearful sight; and quitting my horse's bridle, held up my hands, and cried out to the mountaineers, O haste and rescue, else they'll slay himthey'll slay him!' An old highlander, at almost the same instant, exclaimed, in very corrupt English, God! she'll no stand and see the border lads a' cut in pieces!' and uttering a kind of military yell, flew off with about two hundred men to the assistance of his friends. I was not allowed to remain and witness the

charge of these northern warriors, but was led into Preston, and carried into a house half dead, where several of the ladies, who followed the fortune of their lords in this unhappy expedition, endeavoured to soothe and comfort me. But I soon was the gayest of them all; for in came Walter Selby, and his companion, the former sprinkled with blood, but the latter soiled with blood and dust, from helmet to spur. I leaped into my cousin's bosom, and sobbed with joy; he kissed my forehead, and said, Thank him, my Eleanorthe gallant knight, Sir Thomas Scott, but for him, I should have been where many brave fellows are.' I recovered presence of mind in a moment, and turning to him, said,

Accept, Sir, a poor maiden's thanks for the safety of her kinsman, and allow her to kiss the right hand that wrought this deliverance.' < Bless thee, fair lady, said the knight, I would fight a dozen such fields for the honour thou profferest; but my hand is not in trim for such lady courtesy; so let me kiss thine as a warrior ought.' I held out my hand, which he pressed to his lips; and washing the blood from his hands, removing the soils of battle from his dress, and resuming his mantle, he became the gayest and most chearful of the company.

"It was evident, from the frequent and earnest consultations of the leaders of this rash enterprize, that information had reached them of no pleasing kind. Couriers continually came and went, and some of the chiefs began to resume their weapons. As the danger pressed, advice and contradiction, which at first were given and urged with courtesy and respect, now became warm and loud; and the Earl of Derwentwater, a virtuous and amiable man, but neither warrior nor leader, instead of overawing and ruling the tumultuary elements of his army, strode to and fro, a perfect picture of indecision and dismay, and uttered not a word. All this while, Sir Thomas Scott sat beside Walter Selby and me, calm and unconcerned; conversing about the ancient house of the Selbys; relating anecdotes of the lords of Selby in the court, and in the camp; quoting, and, in his own impressive way of reciting verse, lending all the

melody of music to the old minstrel ballads which recorded our name and deeds. In a moment of less alarm, I could have worshipped him for this; and my poor Walter seemed the child of his companion's will, and forgot all but me in the admiration with which he contemplated him. The conference of the chiefs had waxed warm and tumultuous; when Lord Nithsdale, a little, high spirited, and intrepid man, shook Sir Thomas by the shoulder, and said, 'This is no time, Sir Knight, for minstrel lore, and lady's love; betake thee to thy weapon, and bring all thy wisdom with thee, for truly we are about to need both.' Sir Thomas rose, and having consulted a moment with Lord Kenmure, returned to us, and said, Come, my young friend, we have played the warrior, now let us play the scout, and go forth and examine the numbers and array of our enemies; such a list of their generals and major-generals has been laid before our leaders as turns them pale; a mere muster roll of a regiment would make some of them lay down their arms, and stretch out their necks to the axe. Lord Kenmure, fair Eleanor, who takes a lady's counsel now and then, will have the honour of sitting by your side till our return.' So saying, Walter Selby and Sir Thomas left us; and I listened to every step in the porch, till their return, which happened within an hour. They came splashed with soil, their dress rent with hedge and brake; and they seemed to have owed their safety to their swords, which were hacked and dyed to the hilts. The leaders questioned them: Have you marked the enemy's array, and learned ought of their numbers.' 'We have done more,' said Sir Thomas; we have learned, and that from the tongues of two dying men, that Willis, with nine regiments of horse, and Colonel Preston, with a battalion of foot, will scarcely await for dawn to attack you.' This announcement seemed to strike a damp to the hearts of several of the chiefs; and, instead of giving that consistency to their councils which mutual fear often inspires, it only served to bewilder and perplex them. I would counsel you,' said Sir Thomas, to make an instant attack upon their position,

before their cannon arrive; we are inferior in number, but superior in courage; let some of our border troopers dismount, and, with the clansmen, open a passage through Colonel Preston's troops which line the hedge rows and enclosures; the horse will follow, and there can be no doubt of a complete victory.' Some opposed this advice, others applauded it; and the precious hours of night were consumed in unavailing debate, and passionate contradiction. This was only interrupted by the sound of the trumpet, and the rushing of horse; for Willis, forcing the barriers at two places, at once made good his entry into the principal street of Preston. I had the courage to go into the street; and had not proceeded far, till I saw the enemy's dragoons charging at the gallop; but their saddles were emptied fast, with shot, and with sword; and the clansmen, bearing their bucklers over their heads, made great havoc among the horsemen with their claymores, and at length succeeded in repulsing them to the fields. As soon as the enemy's trumpets sounded a retreat, our leaders again assembled; assembled not to conquer or fall like cavaliers, with their swords in their hands, but to yield themselves up, to beg the grace of a few days, till they prepared their necks for the rope and the axe. The highland soldiers wept with anger and shame, and offered to cut their way, or perish; but the leaders of the army, unfit to follow or fight, resolved on nothing but submission, and sent Colonel Oxburgh with a message to General Willis, to propose a capitulation.

"Sir Thomas Scott came to Walter Selby and me, and said, with a smile of bitter scorn, Let these valiant persons deliver themselves up to strain the cord, and prove the axe; we will seek, Lady Eleanor, a gentler dispensation; retreat now is not without peril; yet let us try what the good green wood will do for poor outlaws; I have seen ladies and men too escape from greater peril than this.' We were in the saddle in a moment; and, accompanied by about twenty of the border cavaliers, made our way through several orchard enclosures, and finally entered upon an extensive common or chace, abounding in clumps of dwarf holly and

birch, and presenting green and winding avenues, into one of which we gladly entered, leaving Preston half a mile behind. That pale and trembling light which precedes day began to glimmer; it felt intensely cold; for the air was filled with dew, and the boughs and bushes sprinkled us with moisture. We hastened on at a sharp trot; and the soft sward returning no sound, allowed us to hear the trumpet summons, and military din, which extended far and wide around Preston. As we rode along, I observed Sir Thomas motion with his head to his companions, feel his sword and his pistols, glance to the girths of his horse, and, finally, drop his mantle from his right arm, apparently baring it for a contest. In all these preparations, he was followed by his friends, who, at the same time, closed their ranks, and proceeded with caution and silence. We had reached a kind of road, half the work of nature and half of man's hand, which divided the chace or waste in two; it was bordered by a natural hedge of holly and thorn. All at once, from a thicket of bushes, a captain, with about twenty of Colonel Preston's dragoons, made a rush upon us, calling out, Yield! down with the traitors!' Swords were bare in a moment, pistols and carabines were flashing, and both parties spurred, alike eager for blood. Of this unexpected and fatal contest, I have but an indistinct remembrance; the glittering of the helmets, the shining of drawn swords, the flashing of pistols and carabines, the knell of shot, the rushing of horses, and the outcry of wounded men, come all in confusion before me; but I cannot give a regular account of this scene of terror and blood. It was of brief duration. I laid my bridle on my horse's neck, and wrung my hands, and followed with my looks every motion of Walter Selby. He was in the pride of strength and youth, and spurred against the boldest; and putting soul and might into every blow, made several saddles empty; I held up my hands, and prayed audibly for success. A dragoon, who had that moment killed a cavalier, rode to my side, and exclaimed, Down with thy hands, thou cursed nun, down with thy hands; woot pray yet, woot thou;

curse tha then;' and he made a stroke at me with his sword. The eyes of Walter Selby seemed to lighten as a cloud does on a day of thunder, and at one blow he severed the dragoon's head, bone and helmet, down to his steel collar. As the trooper fell, a pistol and carabine flashed together, and Walter Selby reeled in the saddle, dropt his head, and his sword; and saying, faintly, Oh, Eleanor !' fell to the ground, stretching both hands towards me. I sprung to the ground, clasped him to my bosom, which he covered with his blood, and entreated Heaven to save him; and oh, I doubt I upbraided the Eternal with his death; but Heaven will pity the ravings of despair. He pressed my hand faintly, and lay looking on my face alone, though swords were clashing, and pistols were discharged, over us. Ere the contest had ceased, Sir Thomas sprang from his horse, took Walter Selby in his arms, and tears sparkled in his eyes, as he saw the blood flowing from his bosom. Alas! alas!' said he, that such a spirit, so lofty and heroic, should be quenched so soon, and in a skirmish such as this. Haste, Frank Elliot, haste, and frame us a litter of green boughs, cover it thick with our mantles, place this noble youth upon it, and we will bear him northward on our horses' necks; ere I leave his body here, I will leave mine own aside it; and you, minstrel Harberson, bring some water from the brook for this fair and fainting lady.' All these orders, so promptly given, were as quickly executed; and we re commenced our journey to the northj with sorrowful hearts, and diminished numbers. I rode by the side of the litter; which, alas, became a bier, ere we reached the green hills of Cumberland. We halted in a lonely glen; a grave was prepared; and there, without priest, prayer, or requiems, was all that I loved of man consigned to a sylvan grave.

The dust of our young hero,' said Sir Thomas, must lie here till the sun shines again on our cause, and it shall be placed in consecrated earth.' The minstrel of the ancient name of Selby stood gazing on the grave, and burst out into the following wail or burial song, which is still to be heard from the lips of the maids and matrons of Cumberland: