Maclean to meet his lady hied. Like sun-beam, peering o'er the fells through murky clouds which sullen roll, she sweetly smiles, and soon dispels the moody umbrage of his soul. With kindly glow his bosom warms; and stooping low upon the plain, he raised his infant in his arms, and kissed him o'er and o'er again. As if by force of magic's power, the clansmen in their transports wild, join in the greetings of the hour, and bless the Lady and her child.

And Callum Dhu, with felon aim, his direful purpose to conceal, shouts with the crowd in wild acclaim, as if disgrace he could not feel. But sudden as the lightning's flash, he from the nurse the child has torn, and up the cliff, with frenzied dash, the infant in his arms has borne. He never stopped, till, clambering high, the fearful peak at last he gained; and thence he scowled, with glaring eye, on those who far below remained.-The chief stood powerless and appalled; the pale and frenzied Isobel wild shrieked, and for her infant called, as prostrate on the earth she fell. Infuriate, all the clansmen bound to scale the steep and narrow path, which up the cliff so slippery wound, to swerve the least were instant death. "Move but a step," fierce Callum cried, "and on this dagger's hilt I swear, my blade that instant shall be dyed in this child's blood!-take heed!-beware!"

66

The Chieftain with uplifted hands, looks heavenward on the voiceless sky, and tremblingly imploring standsracked-torn with fiercest agony ! "One half my lands I'll freely give-All! all !" he cried, in accents wild, SO that the innocent may live! Oh! save my wife, and spare my child!" "Maclean!" he solemnly replied, "gold never can indemnify for loss of honour, nor can hide the stains of open infamy. Me wantonly you have disgraced, -ay, me !—although full well you knew your confidence was ne'er misplaced when given in trust to Callum Dhu. Yet listen! If you shall consent to bare your shoulders to the scourge, and suffer what I underwent, this, this, perhaps, the stains may purge." " Stripes, torture, death itself I dare," Maclean exclaimed, in frantic grief; then turning, with his back laid bare—“Clansmen,” he cried, "chastise your chief!" They murmured loudly, till with tears the Chieftain prayed them to obey: "Spare, spare

my child! assuage our fears! in mercy strike !-quick ! strike, I say!"

'Tis over!-Now, with outstretched arm the desperate man holds out the child :—what! can he mean the babe to harm? His looks are haggard, dark, and wild! A moment more-he shades the hair, the infant's placid brow to kiss :—see !-horror !-vaulting into air, both sink into the black abyss. Ah! who can paint the scene so dread-the anguish of the mingled yell? Madness has fired the Chieftain's head, death seized the Lady Isobel.

-How vain, alas! is human pride, and how impatient of control!-it swells like ocean's raging tide, and saps the barriers of the soul. At morn the sun on Lochbuy shone-sire, husband, idol of his clan; at eve he stands— his treasures gone-a lone and broken-hearted man.

Thomas Nimmo.

The Eagle's Rock.

'Twas the Golden Eagle's Rock, craggy and wild and lone, Where he sat in state, with his royal mate, on his undisputed throne.

High on the dizzy steep did their blood-stain'd eyrie lie, Where the white bones told who had robb'd the fold when the shepherd was not by.

Well might the spoilers gloat at ease in their fortress grey, For never had man, since the world began, clamber'd its height half-way!

And the Golden Eagle stood eyeing the noon-day sun, Till the clamouring cry of his nestlings nigh, charged him with work undone;

And his mighty wings are spread, and he sweepeth down chasms wide;

And his fierce eyes gleam by the mountain stream, and he scours the hill's green side.

Then o'er a shady glen doth the bold marauder sail, Where villagers gay hold a festal day down in their verdant vale.

Apart from a joyous group a mother her darling bears ; With happy smiles at his baby wiles, his innocent mirth she shares.

Then she sits on the velvet sward, shaded by trees at noon, And rocks him to rest on her loving breast, singing a low,

sweet tune.

Now on the soft green turf that mother her babe doth lie, While over its head is a watcher dread, in that dark spot in the sky.

She kisses its cherub cheek, and leaves it awhile; ah, woe! For broader above, o'er her gentle dove, that terrible spot doth grow!

Hush'd was the peasants' mirth, and the stoutest they stood aghast; [them pass'd. And the wail of despair, it rent the air, as the eagle o'er

He has stolen the pretty child, all in its rosy sleep; And bears it in might, with ponderous flight, straight towards his castle-keep!

Whose is that up-turned face, white as the mountain snow? Horror is there, and blank despair, speechless and tear

less woe.

Pale are those bloodless lips; but lo! in that mother's eye There flasheth the light of love's great might, stronger than

agony.

She darts from the wailing throng, her coming is like the wind;

The weeping loud of the noisy crowd dieth away behind. She rusheth o'er field and fell, her footsteps at hindrance

mock;

She startles the snake in the rustling brake, and reacheth the Eagle's Rock!

Mother! go home and weep! what canst thou farther do? Over thy head, immense and dread, frowneth the mountain blue.

Sorrow hath made her mad; she scaleth the rough rock's side, [platform wide. Now passing the edge of a shelving ledge, and now on a

Onward and upward still, scarce does she pause for

breath; Woman, beware! thou hast not there "a step between thee and death!"

Scrambling up fearful crags, still doth she higher go; Close let her cling! the loose stones ring, clatt'ring to depths below.

First of the breathless crowds, flocking in haste beneath, A son of the wave, high-soul'd and brave, dasheth across the heath.

He follows her upward flight, yes, till his eyes grow dim; In the fierce storm-blast he has topp'd the mast, but this is no place for him!

So he must softly creep down from the heights above; His heart it is true, but he never knew, the might of a mother's love

Higher she mounts! she climbs where the wild goat fears to stand;

Death follows behind, fleet, fleet as the wind; still she eludes his hand!

She reacheth the fearful wall under the great rock's brow, Where the ivy has clung, and has sway'd and swung, from earliest time till now.

Clamb'ring the net-work old which its twining stems have wrought,

She wrestles in prayer with her Maker there: doth she "fear God for nought?"

Niagara's awful flood is spann'd by a radiant bow;

And joy, she springs, on her sunny wings, from the blackest tide of woe!

And the cry of that mother's heart is heard, and her faith is blest;

For, with rapture wild, she hath snatched her child unharm'd from the eagles' nest!

Flapping their dusky wings, fiercely the spoilers came; And she heard their screams, and she saw the gleams, that shot from their eyes of flame.

Like spirits of evil foul, they circled around her head; Then yelling aloud, amazed and cow'd, down the steep rock they fled.

Close to her throbbing heart she bindeth her weeping child;

She wipeth its tears, and she quells its fears, up in that region wild;

And she blesses the Mighty Hand that carried her there, and knows

That aid shall be lent through the dread descent, to that perilous journey's close.

Hush down the rifted rock she beareth her burden

sweet;

No might of her own maketh fast each stone firmly beneath her feet.

She trusts, and her bleeding hands safely the ivy grasp, For a spirit of love from her God above is strengthening it in her clasp.

Lower she comes, and sees beneath her a mountain lamb, That, cautious and slow, to the vale below, follows its careful dam;

And she tracketh, with thankful heart, the path of her gentle guide,

Whose feet will be found on the surest ground, down the steep mountain's side.

Hark! from the plain beneath, voices are rising loud; The shout and the cheer, they have reach'd her ear, and she seeth the breathless crowd.

Louder, and louder still, swelleth the welcome strain; Oh, loving heart! thou hast done thy part; return to thy home again.

She reacheth the mountain's foot; hurrah! for her task

is o'er; [evermore. The deed she hath done hath a tribute won of praises for

And a lesson she taught to all, of energy, faith, and love : Hast thou the right? Stand up and fight, looking to God above!