function was that of bankers; but they were also merchants, agents, and planters; and, probably, the result of all the discussion which has taken place as to the causes of their embarrassments, is one of the strongest proofs ever obtained of the necessity of prosecuting the trade of banking on its own grounds, and in its own channel, totally free from the encumbrance of any other vocation.

THE PLANETS.

Too remote and apparently insignificant are the planets to awaken much interest in the general mind, unless when brought before it in some special way. A little brighter, but only a little, than the multitude of stars which light up the night sky, they do not usually mix separately with the feelings, and form for themselves a class of delicate associations. Although really nearer in kinship to our earth than the moon, being its peers, and bodies circling in the same plane and round one centre, how faint is the interest which they awaken in us, compared with our affection for the gentle orb which waxes and wanes in our immediate neighbourhood! Proximity in space and obvious service will kindle a glow in the heart, when a stricter relationship, if less immediately present, cannot touch us with a single emotion; as the shepherd loves his dog and the hunter his horse, better than a fellow-man if standing removed out of the sphere of sympathy. Still there are occasions when the object, so long and so entirely felt to be estranged from us, acquires a new power over the heart -a power proportioned to the degree of alienation which, from circumstances, had supervened between it and our affections. A revolution takes place, and we consecrate the moment of recovery by a tenderer gush of feeling towards the forgotten thing, than if its claims had been recognised from the very beginning.

planet as it floats across our horizon, we can afterwards exclude it from our view by the interposition of an object only a little larger than a pin-head! Compare the glittering point, as thus measured, with the large earth, which the imagination, setting out with its greatest velocity, cannot run round, but comes back, panting, baffled in the attempt to embrace it! Well nigh impossible is it for us to overcome the influence of sense, and suffer our own planet, which thus bulks so large in the eye, to take its rank as but one, and that not the most remarkable, of many planets. So, notwithstanding, the state of the case really is. Nor are we losers by this self-knowledge; for, if we are lightened of some ground of exultation, we gain in reasons of humility. Lords of the terrestrial creation, we may be outshone by a more favoured race inhabiting one of these glittering orbs. We cannot know with certainty; but our pride receives a check, and we are taught to postpone all boasting as unseasonable, till futurity unfolds what yet may exist to justify a more modest estimate of our rank than sense is ready commonly to hurry us into.

Nearest to the source of light, and generally immersed in its rays, revolves Mercury, one of the least known of the planets, though giving rise to some of the strangest conjectures respecting the character of its inhabitants. The sun beats on it with sevenfold the intensity with which it shines on our earth, implying conditions entirely removed from human experience, and incapable of surmise with the slightest approximation to certainty. Indeed, as the case really is, Mercury so clings to the sun, circling within a very small orbit, that it can be seen for a short time only, and then always in twilight, at no greater distance from the luminary than 29 degrees, or the distance of the moon on the second day after its change. Its rotation on its axis, or day, is a little longer than the earth's, and its revolu tion, or year, is about three months. Thus, with a diameter of 3200 miles, does this dazzling planet maintain its course and not unless when day is darkening into night. It seems to us the symbol of the poet, basking in a region too fiery for common mortals to approach without danger. With a spirit finely tempered, and radiating freely what of the Divine life has penetrated him, he circles in our horizon, gay with a perpetual spring and summer, and decorating the region in which he moves by the clear, beautiful light of his genius, seen by ordinary men, as it were, only when he appears through the veil of his works, concentrated, indeed, in power, but softened in lustre. Do the inhabitants of Mercury regard us? We cannot tell. Let us suppose that they not despise, but pity us; for so does the poet. Fain would he communicate of his own sweet light and warmth; but, feeble of vision, we refuse to look at him, except when he has retreated furthermost from the central spirit which kindles his love, and shows himself not as he is in his strength, but as when he obscures his face, lest the splendour should scare us.

Such, at two different times, was our own experience in relation to the planets. The first of these occasions hap-around its centre; visible only as the point of a diamond, pened one spring day at twilight, as the writer was slowly wending his way up a hilly plane, with a mass of wild ruin on an eminence before him. The evening was delicious, uniting the balminess of midsummer with the pellucid atmosphere of the winter which had just been left behind; and glancing above the uneven ridge of the black mouldering heap, which looked solemn seen against the clearer sky, shone a brilliant planet, sparkling in its splendour, as if only then it had started into being. Its pure rays seemed for a moment to reproach him. Had so much beauty been so long hanging in the skies without being particularly registered in thought as belonging to a planet kindred to the earth? Was it thus that its consanguinity was overlooked? Had sympathy heretofore been withheld from it? Touched, for a moment, by the reflection, he seemed to leap over distance, and in imagination to embrace the wandering orb with compunctious entreaty. The other time on which a feeling somewhat similar more especially possessed him, was, when pacing with quiet step the shore of a beautiful island on the west coast alone and in the advanced night, he observed lying out upon the motionless waters a faint but noticeable streak of soft light, long and narrow, and shading away more faintly at its borders. At once the light was traced to the planet Jupiter, far up in the silent sky, and again he felt more acutely than at other times the essential relationship of the planetary bodies to our own dear earth. Why should we defraud ourselves of so much happiness, by refraining from associating each of these with a few ideas respecting their character, magnitude, and motions? We lose just so many points of attachment to the skies, and emblems of thought and emotion, as we gaze ignorantly and inattentively on these bright arks riding on the surge of space.

On first remarking, however, that our own planet, from which we look out, is but one of many planets, some nearer to the sun, others larger in point of bulk, we can scarcely escape from a sense almost of shame, as if in the predica ment of one who had taken possession of the highest seat at a feast, and was bidden to sit down lower on the entering of the host among the company. On fixing the eye upon a

One remove more distant from the sun hangs Venus, the most beautiful of the planets as seen from the earth. Nearer to our own earth not only in space, but, what is of much more importance, in size and condition, this planet is in many respects contemplated with a greatly higher interest than that which Mercury awakens. Floating in its own exceeding light, the latter seems as if in silent sufficiency it withdrew from our sympathy; at least so one is apt to feel when regarding mere appearances. On the contrary, the other orb is proximate enough to ourselves in its general circumstances, so as to kindle a special longing for communion, and occasion a more profound inquiry than could be set on foot by a planet less closely related to us. It has likewise been consecrated by poesy, which creates a love for whatever it throws its own protective and adorning hand over. Venus, as seen in one region of her course, namely, to the east of the sun, is the evening star of poesy; seen west of that luminary, she is the morning star: as the former, she remains for a while above the western horizon after sunset, and then gently sinks in the wake of her great source and guide; as the latter, she peeps over the eastern horizon a little before sunrise, announcing

works are stamped; and what matters it whether it blows colder on the cheek there than here, if the check is made to bear a keener wind? Yet, feelings of sympathy towards even an orb removed beyond our influence, and ready, in all likelihood, to smile at any such as should attempt to transplant the joys of earth to its plains, may not be wholly unserviceable, if they stimulate our affections towards creatures than can be benefited-if they lead us to love and aid our less favoured fellow-men more effectually than heretofore, and cast the shield of our protection over the inferior animals as rightful heirs with ourselves of this green globe on which we dwell.

that event, and, as it were, preparing the world to welcome the return of day and the parent of light. Venus is larger than Mercury, being 7700 miles in diameter, two or three hundreds fewer than that of the earth; and revolving round the sun at the distance of 68,000,000 of miles in 224 days. Her light and heat are double those of the earth; while she rotates on her axis every 23 hours and 20 minutes, with the remarkable inclination to the plane of her orbit of 75 degrees, exceeding the earth's by 51. These circumstances must cause a peculiar modification of her seasons. To protect her from the too ardent gaze of the central orb, she is furnished with a large and dense atmosphere, through which clouds float in varying quantity, as with us, imply- Beyond Mars spin the asteroids, four little spheres not ing the existence of water on the planet. As seen from the long ago discovered, called Vesta, Juno, Ceres, and Pallas. point of the earth, she seems to move from side to side in The last mentioned, Pallas, is the largest, not, however, a straight line; just as, if we stood behind our earth at a exceeding the size of our moon; Vesta, the first named, is sufficient distance, we should observe the moon seemingly the smallest, with a surface scarcely more extensive than in motion on a line rather than in a circle, travelling with one of the larger continental kingdoms. Another, Astrea a variable aspect from the earth outwards to her terminus by name, was observed, at the close of the year 1845, by on the one side as she approached her first quarter, retrac- Herr Heucke of Berlin. Companions to each other, they ing the same portion of the line as she advanced to full move at about the same distance from the sun and cut each moon, beginning her course in the direction of the other other's orbits. What they are, and what has been their side as she started for her third quarter, and leaving the origin, discovery has not yet informed us. Time may tell, terminus here for the point at the centre where she origi- when we may talk more at large about them. nally set out. Of course we should expect, as in the case Eclipsing all the planets in magnitude, and all but Venus of our satellite, that Venus would exhibit phases, being in brilliancy, Jupiter rolls his enormous bulk yet farther now crescent form, soon half-moon, anon gibbous, after-out in space, tossing, as he goes, his four beautiful satellites, wards full, and running through the same phases again as like so many white balls, to the music of his own majestio she returned to the point of starting, Just so the fact is; movement. If his distance from the sun, which is five times and astronomers have availed themselves of these pheno- greater than the earth's, being more than 490,000,000 of mena for many important discoveries. A planet so bright miles, allows him only a twenty-fifth part of our light and and beautiful as Venus cannot be looked at, when in her heat, yet how curious must be the effect of his cross-lights, as fullest, without inspiring the observer with some portion he receives the soft sheen of the distant luminary, mixed of her own gaiety and joy, and a greater sensibility to the with the pale reflections of his circling moons! Strange, loveliness of light and of graceful form. too, must be his days and nights; and stranger still his seasons-too monotonous, indeed, for an earth-born child; for, rotating on an axis perpendicular and not inclined to its orbit, his days and nights have ever the same length, and his seasons preserve a perpetual summer at the equator, with a permanent winter at the polar regions. Rotation is accomplished in 10 hours; a motion so swift that a difference of 6000 miles exists between his equatorial and polar diameters. In thinking, however, of his surface, how feeble are our conceptions, even when we take for measurement the largest piece of ground over which any of us may have travelled! We talk of our trackless forests and deserts, our boundless continents; but Jupiter could carry our earth on one of his promontories without being sensibly encumbered by it, if his spongy body did not yield to the weight. Wholly different are the emotions with which we contemplate the condition of this planet from those which are awakened by Mars or Venus. So long as it is possible to institute a comparison, we are hurried into the consideration of points of agreement and of difference. But so soon as the case is one of contrast, we drop thoughts of likeness, and resign ourselves implicitly to new impressions. In a sort of stately reserve and self-sufficing vastness, Jupiter seems to stand apart, as one of a superior class of beings, whose actions we may humbly note but cannot adjudicate upon, whom we can scarcely love, and whom it would be absurdity for us to pity. A stoic among the inferior orbs, he moves in his cold and austere course, as if every evil were only a foil to his grandeur-an occasion on which his severe virtue might have opportunity of displaying itself. Still we cannot withdraw from considering him, as if, because he suffices to himself, we could equally well do without him. The distance at which he stands places him beyond the sphere of rivalry; and we regard him without self-reference as a show, a form of sublimity. Our vanity would not receive a cure of its wound if it allowed itself to be wounded by him in withdrawing its gaze of interest; for we should certainly feel that, whether we frown or smile, he must be equally well satisfied with himself.

Hitherto we have been considering planets which are seen, when seen at all, only by looking forward in the direction of the sun; their orbits are contained within the circle of the earth, and they enjoy a brighter sunshine. Passing over our own dear orb, as demanding a more affectionate inquiry than the present sketch allows, we come next into the view of Mars-that dusky red planet circling outward of the earth's orbit, and observed by us sometimes with our backs to the central luminary. In contemplating the circumstances of Mars, we may naturally console ourlves with our good fortune; for if we do not press the shining plains of Mercury or Venus, neither do we shiver on the cold, half-lit, dreary wastes of Mars. Distant from the sun about 144,000,000 of miles, and consequently wheeling in an orbit much larger than that of the earth, this planet has a year nearly equal to two of ours, but a diurnal rotation in much about the same time as our daily course. Its diameter is little more than half the earth's; and, because of its remoteness from the sun, it enjoys but a single half of our light and heat. No moon hangs her pale lamp over its seas and continents, nor can its tides be stronger than a sluggish motion derived from the far-off central body. Still, however, it lies within the appreciable influence of the sun, looking out towards his glorious face, and securely kept from driving off into the blank beyond, a solitary and hopeless wanderer of space. Nevertheless, So closely related to ourselves is this ruddy orb, being our next neighbour outwards, and claiming a special interest from its many affinities to our own favoured planet, that we can scarcely abstain from extending a sympathetic thought to its shores, and venturing to ask how the day is passed, and what compensation is granted for the want of a satellite to intermit the darkness of its nights and shed her mild radiance on valley and mountain slope. Fruitless enough, indeed, are all such attempts to transport our selves into the condition of those who may justly claim our thoughts though they cannot benefit by them; and probably sufficiently futile would be our services, if, by some special gust granted for the occasion, we could be wafted beyond the power of terrestrial gravity, and made to alight on the frosty coast of Mars. Adaptation is the law of the universe, the signet of God, by which all his

Passing, however, from Jupiter, lest haply his ear may catch with complacency the flattering sounds of mortals, and, through detention, trip in his course, or let one of his

but

exchanged for a goodly yellow ochre, his constitution was how their friends and lovers are, &c. &c.! Oh, no, it hale and his step as firm as ever; and right glad was Gregory would never do!-the very idea appears ridiculous; to resume that 'free step on hill and lea' in exchange for if happiness is our being's end and aim,' I fear we have the lazy recumbent position in his palanquin, where he lost more by the sacrifice of the heartfelt pleasures derivhad lain dissolved in perspiration as he jogged on upon able from occasional fellowship with our domestics, than the shoulders of the grunting bearers over the dull plains we have gained by keeping them at an impassable disof Bengal. But, along with his love of retirement, Gre- tance by our love of factitious refinement. While misgory derived much of his enjoyment of life as silent spec- tresses are continually inveighing against the selfishness tator of the actors of the world's drama; and, therefore, and restlessness of servants, let them recollect that in the in addition to what he beheld in the city throng out of present state of society there can be no real attachment doors, he took care to be in some snug corner of the hall between the served and servant, and that they have themat all meetings for all purposes. In accordance with his selves to blame for the evils they so feelingly deplore; taste, he had made choice of a sombre suite of apartments and no wonder that the servants in their turn make up on the north side of the High Street of Auld Reekie' for the want of interest exhibited towards them by their the venerable domicile, no doubt, of some noble family in employers by at least the excitement of vanity and days of yore. A few steps from the pavement and the change. But where have I wandered? Tibby had no crowd and he was at his door, which opened into a long wishes or pleasures beyond her dear master's habitation: dark passage, at the end of which a second door ad- to see him happy, and to keep all about him comfortable, mitted him into his study, lighted by a tall arched win- formed her delightful occupation; and the honour of presiddow, commanding a magnificent view of the New Town, ing at his tea-table in the evening, and the liberty of conthe gallant Forth, and kingdom of Fife. The sudden versing freely with him, were to her joy unspeakable. Had transition from the noisy dingy street to the calm within Gregory returned changed in habits, a rich nabob, he and splendour beyond was next to enchantment, refresh- might have surrounded himself with pomp and liveried ing to the eye, the body, and the soul. On the right servants, and assembled at his board crowds of parahand of the before-mentioned passage lay Gregory's par- sites and flatterers; but he would not have tasted so lour and bed-room, and on the left was a kitchen and a pure a pleasure as that of making a faithful and deservbed-room occupied by his only inmate, a venerable matron ing fellow-creature happy like Tibby, or purchasing with of the name of Tibby, who had kept him when a child, all his wealth such devoted attachment as she displayed. and who was still able, at the age of seventy, to keep all Whenever Gregory entered his study Tibby regarded it that was to be kept about her 'bairn,' as she still called as sacred how her master employed his time there, she him in speaking of him. Tibby had, no less than her never thought of inquiring, satisfied it must be to no bad master, the very sum of her heart's desire, viz., to keep purpose; for whether he was about to enter into its enjoythe house of the bairn in whose family she had spent ment, or sally forth in quest of adventures, in passing her most of her life, and now, like himself, left friendless in he had ever a ready smile and Weel, Tibby,' to greet the world; and I do not believe there was a happier wo- her with. Of one thing transpiring within her master's man in the world than Tibby, when her bairn, restored cell she could not be ignorant, and that was the occasional to home, installed her in the office of housekeeper in deep and solemn sound of a Chinese gong, that formed his city hermitage; and no less happy was Gregory in part of his library furniture, and hung suspended from the making his old affectionate nurse comfortable in her old hands of two casts of Indian jogees; and as Gregory age. The distinction of ranks was always observed dur-wished no mystery to be connected with his retirement, ing the day; but in the evening this was laid aside, when he informed her, that whenever he wished to call up the Gregory always went to drink tea with Tibby in her own scenes of his exile he had only to have recourse to a few room, where, the duties of the day done, the old nurse, tolls of the gong. It was some time, however, before the neatly attired, had everything ready for the reception of her neighbours could account for the sonorous peals that issued honoured guest. On each side of the fire stood an easy- from Gregory's flat. Through Tibby, however, they at chair, which, after tea, were occupied by Gregory and last got an insight into the nature of the instrument and Tibby; the former then, lighting his pipe, listened de- the cause of its being sounded; and on these occasions lighted to Tibby's langsyne stories of his childhood, and, they used to say, 'There's Mr Gregory awa' to the East when his pipe expired, treated her, in return, with far away Indies.' country stories, all of which, with the exception of the flying fish (an exception made by some other old woman before her), she firmly believed; but, though unable to swallow that finomenon, she had too much respect for her master to express her disbelief, and only observed that there were strange things in the world, nae doot.' Though perfectly at home and at her ease with Gregory, she never forgot the deference due to him. The worthy couple at their fireside in the evening were a pleasing relic of more patriarchal times, and in imagination our hero felt transported to some rajah's hall in India, when in the evening all the state etiquette and ceremony ceases, and his excellency calling in the household servants, they, after their low salaam, take their places on the carpets around him, and amuse him with the day's occurrences they may individually have picked up, or some minstrel, tuning his lyre, sings the acts of Ram or Roostum; or it recalled to him his own bungalow, when he used sometimes to unbend in chit-chat with the natives. And how delightful it is when, without confounding of ranks or encouraging presuming familiarity, these seasons of communion with those with whom we live can be enjoyed! and, I fear, there must be something wrong in society when they cannot be enjoyed. Fancy, for instance, the stylish master of a modern British mansion in the evening calling up the coachman, butler, and footman, in their liveries, and the servant-women -ladies, I mean—in their elegant dresses, and asking them to sit down and tell him the news of the day, and

Gregory had a great aversion to a clock; he thought its never-ending click a most mournful and monotonous way of marking the lapse of time, but he lost all patience with its preliminary birr, followed up with its shrill, pert, and self-important strike, as it announced, with an exulting crow, its triumph over another hour, dispersing, perhaps, by its discordant and unexpected bell-clamour, some bright day-dream of the tropic climes. This appendage to his passage was therefore permitted to die quietly a natural death at ten minutes past three o'clock on the first Sunday morning after its erection. Gregory always felt a glow of triumph whenever he passed the poor dumb horoscope, and, with a smile at the motionless, useless hands pointing always absurdly to ten minutes past three, addressed it in the words of the poet to the statue of Niobe- For ever silent, and for ever sad.' This was one of the few things in which Tibby's taste did not agree with her master's. What a pity,' thought she, never to take the use o' the bonny aught-day clock; and then its click was sae heartsome, especially when no inclined to sleep at night.' Another of the things in which she disagreed with her master was in having to dine once a-week on that 'het curry, which was like to burn the tongue out o' her mouth; but, as her room was supplied with a silent time-piece, she at last got reconciled to the clock holding a sinecure; and on curry days she supplied herself with a salt herring, which was as tasty, with less pain in the devouring of it-so all was peace, contentment, and harmony

6

in Gregory's hermitage. Thus much for his 'Reekie' retreat; in the next toll of his gong, we shall give some account of his early days and his departure for India.

DOMESTIC SCENES.

Such is the title of a very handsome volume, recently published in Glasgow, consisting of tales embodying incidents in Scottish life-sketches of noted characters-of persons who have risen in the world by their own efforts and of others who have become eminent by the aid of adventitious circumstances. Although, in a few instances, we could have wished that the editor had used his pen more freely in the way of excision, still the volume is a very interesting and agreeable one, the pledge given in the preface being fulfilled to the letter, that every scene has been depicted to make vice appear hateful, and virtue | lovely. In abridging the tale entitled 'Marion Dempster, the Sempstress, to suit our pages, we give entire the author's delineation of Robin Chucks, an admirable representation of the class from which he is drawn. Although the tales are given anonymously, we suspect 'Marion Dempster' to be from the pen of one whose contributions have on several occasions appeared in our pages.

same time plied every effort for support of her and her little brother David, who constituted the whole of John Dempster's family. The influence of her cheerful temper at length succeeded in dispelling the gloomy forebodings which brooded over her parent's mind. With much difficulty work was procured from a warehouse-work of an ill-remunerating description indeed; yet, by assiduous application, they managed to earn a scanty livelihood; and the little family, while far from being relieved of the sting of poverty, still experienced much of that comfort which patient industry, conjoined with a clear unfettered conscience and humble reliance on God's goodness can secure. Marion, while she possessed sterling qualities of heart, had withal a comely attractive countenance, which, coupled with her light-hearted cheerfulness, gained her many friends. Ere she was eighteen years of age not a few young men of her acquaintance had sought her friendship; in other words, had she chosen she might have had a goodly train of wooers. But her heart was not at her own disposal, and she liked not to tamper with the affections of others. Those whose attentions became marked she immediately checked so firmly as to banish all hope of success.

Letters were occasionally received from her father containing most encouraging news; and, about two years after his departure, he stated in one of these that he had made some money, and intended returning home to take out his wife and children. Not long after receipt of this back letter, John Dempster arrived-and what a welcome to the bosom of his family he received!

John Dempster was one of a numerous and industrious class-a class whose peculiar circumstances are little known beyond their own circle, and who, whilst comprising a considerable portion of our population, and contributing largely to the comforts of society, yet experience, in these times, few of those comforts themselves; in short, John Dempster was a weaver. He had married in early Alas! how often human hopes and prospects are doomed life, during a long period of flourishing trade, and had to disappointment! The brimming cup may be dashed from been enabled to bring up a family, of whom all were dead our lips ere it has well reached them. Man's brightest save two, in tolerably comfortable circumstances. He joys are ever surrounded by the blackest dangers. Well was a man of uniformly steady and correct life. His reli- for him he knows not of them. Seated at the feast he gion was not of the Sunday-coat description, but was often is, and the Damoclean sword suspended by a hair manifested in the daily and cheerful discharge of those above him. It is but a step from the house of joy to that relative duties to God and his fellow-creatures which his of mourning. To-day we bask in the sunshine of life, Bible enjoined. But, though he lived for fourteen years to-morrow, perchance, stretched on a bed of sickness. after his marriage in unchequered prosperity, earning his To-day, full of life and beauty; to-morrow, the mourners daily bread ungrudgingly by the sweat of his brow, a time may be heard going about the streets.' To-day, in the of trying adversity at length came. The two years' stag- active bustle of existence; to-morrow, silent in death. nation of trade is still fresh in our memory. Among the Within a fortnight after his arrival, John Dempster was many who experienced the iron rod of poverty with all its dead. He had caught a fever on the passage home, which concomitant horrors, few felt it more heavily than John began to exhibit itself soon after his arrival, and despite Dempster's family. What a heart-rending spectacle it is all medical effort he was carried off. Here was a new to see fellow-creatures offering to sell their labour-to trial, and a heavy one too. It was found that the little yield themselves bondsmen for a scanty pittance-yet find- money Dempster had made would barely pay the doctor's ing no one willing to purchase their services! Day by day bill and funeral expenses; so Marion and her mother were one hope, one resource, fades into another; futurity grows again cast helpless on the world. No! not helpless, for darker and gloomier as their little stock of money, trea- the widow's Stay and orphan's Parent was theirs, and they sured for the time of sickness, melts away; their furniture were enabled through their affliction to look to and lean is sold or bartered for life's necessaries, and nothing but on Him for protection. absolute starvation stares them terribly and grimly in the face. Such was then the everyday experience of many, and still too frequently is. Many emigrated to foreign lands in the hope of bettering their condition. A certain party, composed of about a dozen male heads of families, made up their minds to gather together what little they had remaining and proceed to America, leaving their families behind them till once a settlement could be effected in the land of promise, agreeing among themselves to keep all together, and endeavour to form a small settlement in the far west.' After much reluctance and painful misgiving, John Dempster agreed to accompany them, arguing wisely, that he could, at least, make his case no worse. Here for a time we must bid him adieu. His family being left to struggle for themselves for a while, seemed involved in a sort of stupor. A sense of utter helplessness gradually brought his wife into a state of sullen indifference, and she seemed about to sink under its influence. Her only daughter, Marion, a girl of eighteen, who possessed much of her father's resolution and energy of character, chastened, it might be, under the painful infliction of poverty, struggled hard to sustain her mother's drooping spirits, and at the

*Edited by J. SMITH, M.A. Clasgow: George Gallie.

Marion's marriage with the young man to whom she was betrothed was, of course, delayed. He called a few weeks after the funeral and again made offer of his hand, promising to use every effort to promote her comfort. Marion's answer was quite characteristic: Willie, gin ye're in sic a hurry, look out for some ither lass. I dinna doubt your love; but, however willin' my heart may be, my conscience tells me my first duty is to my mother and wee Davie. The best way I can discharge it is by remaining single. I canna ask ye, Willie Douglas, to hae patience; I canna bid ye wait; so just get a girl wha's better able and mair fitted than me to become your wife.' Willie vowed he never would look out for any other, though his hair should turn grey in waiting; and so the matter dropped.

Under her straitened circumstances, Mrs Dempster found it necessary to remove to a smaller lodging in another quarter of the town. With some difficulty a room and kitchen were procured; but after settling with her present landlord, she found her resources so drained as to be unable to pay the expense of removing her furniture to such a distance. A new difficulty thus arose, but with the difficulty a new friend.

In the same tenement with this family resided one