CCXLI.-THE LAST MINSTREL.-No. II.

In the preceding description, the Minstrel is introduced, and the story which he is represented to have sung, form Scott's Poem. The following lines are added at the close, describing the manner in which the benevolent Duchess rewards the old man.

HUSHED is the harp! the Minstrel gone!
And did he wander forth alone?

Alone, in indigence and age,

To linger out his pilgrimage?

No. Close beneath proud Newark's tower,
Arose the Minstrel's lowly bower;

A simple hut; but there was seen
The little garden hedged with green,
The cheerful hearth, and lattice clean.
There, sheltered wanderers, by the blaze,
Oft heard the tale of other days;
For much he loved to ope his door
And give the aid he begged before.

So passed the winter's day. But still,
When summer smiled on sweet Bowhill,
And July's eve, with balmy breath,
Waved the blue-bells on Newark heath;
When throstles sung in Hare-head shaw,
And corn was green on Carterhaugh,
And flourished, broad, Blacandro's oak,
The aged Harper's soul awoke!

Then would he sing achievements high,
And circumstance of chivalry,
Till the rapt traveler would stay,
Forgetful of the closing day;

And noble youths, the strain to hear,
Forsook the hunting of the deer;

And Yarrow, as he rolled along,
Bore burden to the Minstrel's song.
FROM SCOTT.

CCXLII. THE WAR GATHERING.

The following animated and graphic extract from Scott's "Lady of the Lake," illustrates one of the customs of the feudal days of Scotland. Roderick, chief of the Clan Alpine, being informed of an intended attack, summons his followers by a messenger who warns all on his route to a certain point, and then transfers his message and symbol to another. Thus the whole region is speedily alarmed and soldiers gathered.

CROSLET; a small cross: the symbol borne.
HENCHMAN; a servant. Scaur; a steep place.

THEN Roderick, with impatient look,
From Brian's hand the symbol took:
"Speed, Malise, speed!" he said, and gave
The Croslet to his hench-man brave.
"The muster-place be Lanrick mead;
Instant the time; speed, Malise, speed!"

Like heath-bird, when the hawks pursue,
A barge across Loch-Katrine flew.
High stood the hench-man on the prow:
So rapidly the barge-men row,

The bubbles, where they launched the boat,
Were all unbroken and afloat,

Dancing in foam and ripple still,

When it had neared the mainland hill;

And from the silver beach's side

Still was the prow three fathom wide,
When lightly bounded to the land
The messenger of blood and brand.

Speed, Malise, speed! the dun deer's hide
On fleeter foot was never tied.
Speed, Malise, speed! such cause of haste
Thine active sinews never braced.
Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast;
Burst down, like torrent, from its crest;
With short and springing footstep pass
The trembling bog and false morass;
Across the brook like roe-buck bound,
And thread the brake like questing hound.

The crag is high, the scaur is deep,
Yet shrink not from the desperate leap:
Parched are thy burning lips and brow,
Yet by the fountain pause not now;
Herald of battle, fate, and fear,
Stretch onward in thy fleet career!
The wounded hind thou track'st not now,
Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough,
Nor pliest thou now thy flying pace
With rivals in the mountain race;
But danger, death, and warrior deed,
Are in thy course: speed, Malise, speed!

Fast as the fatal symbol flies,

In arms the huts and hamlets rise;
From winding glen, from upland brown,
They poured each hardy tenant down.
Nor slacked the messenger his pace;
He showed the sign, he named the place,
And, pressing forward like the wind,
Left clamor and surprise behind.

The fisherman forsook the strand,
The swarthy smith took dirk and brand;
With chang-ed cheer, the mower blithe
Left in the half-cut swath his scythe;
The herds without a keeper strayed,
The plow was in mid-furrow staid,
The falc'ner tossed his hawk away,
The hunter left the stag at bay;
Prompt at the signal of alarms,
Each son of Alpine rushed to arms;
So swept the tumult and affray
Along the margin of Achray.
Speed, Malise, speed! the lake is past,
Duncraggan's huts appear at last,

And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen,

Half hidden, in the copse so green;
There may'st thou rest, thy labor done,

Their lord shall speed the signal on.

FROM SCOTT.

CCXLIII.-THE BOW.

THERE was heard the sound of a coming foe,
There was sent through Britain a bended bow:
And a voice was poured on the free winds far,
As the land rose up at the sound of war:

"Heard ye not the battle horn?
Reaper! leave thy golden corn!
Leave it for the birds of heaven;
Swords must flash, and spears be riven:
Leave it for the winds to shed;
Arm! ere Britain's turf grows red!"

And the reaper armed, like a freeman's son;
And the bended bow and the voice passed on.

"Hunter! leave the mountain chase!
Take the falchion from its place!

Let the wolf go free to-day;

Leave him for a nobler prey!

Let the deer ungalled sweep by;

Arm thee! Britain's foes are nigh!"

And the hunter armed, ere the chase was done;
And the bended bow and the voice passed on.

"Chieftain! quit the joyous feast!
Stay not till the song hath ceased:
Though the mead be foaming bright,
Though the fire gives ruddy light,
Leave the hearth and leave the hall;
Arm thee! Britain's foes must fall!"

And the chieftain armed, and the horn was blown ;
And the bended bow and the voice passed on.

"Prince! thy father's deeds are told,
In the bower and in the hold!
Where the goat-herd's lay is sung,
Where the minstrel's harp is strung!

Foes are on thy native sea,

Give our bards a tale of thee!"

And the prince came armed, like a leader's son;

And the bended bow and the voice passed on.

"Mother! stay thou not thy boy!
He must learn the battle's joy.
Sister! bring the sword and spear;
Give thy brother words of cheer!
Maiden! bid thy lover part;

Britain calls the strong in heart!"

And the bended bow and the voice passed on;
And the bards made song of a battle won.
FROM MRS. HEMANS.

CCXLIV.-SPEECH ON AMERICA.

THIS is an extract from a speech delivered in parliament, on a bill taking away the right of trial from Boston, and requiring the accused to be sent to England.

THIS proposition is so glaring; so unprecedented in any former proceedings of parliament; so unwarranted by any delay, denial, or provocation of justice, in America; so big with misery and oppression to that country, and with danger to this; that the first blush of it is sufficient to alarm and rouse me to opposition. It is proposed to stigmatize a whole people as persecutors of innocence, and men incapable of doing justice. Yet you have not a single fact on which to ground that imputation!

I expected the noble lord would support this motion, by producing instances in which officers of government in America had been prosecuted with unremitting vengeance, and brought to cruel and dishonorable deaths, by the violence and injustice of American juries. But he has not produced one such instance; and I will tell you more, sir, he can not produce one! The instances which have happened are directly in the teeth of his proposition. Col. Preston and the soldiers who shed the blood of the people were fairly tried, and fully acquitted. It was an American jury, a New England jury, a Boston jury, which tried and acquitted them. Col. Preston has, under his hand, publicly declared that the inhabitants of the very town in which their fellow-citizens had been sacrificed, were his advocates and defenders.