notice it. We cannot, however, resist the temptation to any respect to their allies, it was in that obstinate and quote the following beautiful verses : 'Starting and shivering in the inconstant wind, And bid the realms of life and light adieu.' In the autumn of the year in which Bruce died, his college friend, John Logan, came to Kinnesswood, and received from our poet's parents and other friends the whole of his papers and manuscripts, with a view to editing and publishing his poems, together with a life of their author. Accordingly, in 1770, three years after the papers had been delivered over to Logan, there appeared a volume, containing nineteen poems, purporting to be on several occasions, by Michael Bruce. Although the title-page bore that the poems were by Bruce, it was stated in the preface that only a portion of them were written by him, without its being said who was the author of the others. In this volume appeared the celebrated 'Ode to the Cuckoo,' some Scripture paraphrases, and other pieces, which were afterwards claimed by Logan, and regarding which there has been so much controversy in the literary world. We believe that the great body of evidence collected by M'Kelvie, and published in his edition, has now virtually settled the question. NORMAN M'LEO D.* A TALE OF THE LATE WAR. unconquerable hardihood, which, without incurring the reproach of national vanity, we may fairly claim as being peculiar to Britons. Among the individuals who accepted rank and command in the Portuguese army, few were more distinguished for bravery and determined zeal than Norman M'Leod. Norman was, as the name may suggest, a native of the Highlands of Scotland. Descended from a long line of warlike ancestors, himself indeed the son of a gallant soldier, whose name had obtained an honourable place in the gazette on a variety of occasions, and finally swelled the list of the brave who fell on the plain of Aboukir, Norman may fairly be considered as born to the profession of arms; at least we cannot wonder if from his childhood he entertained no ideas of human happiness apart from the acquisition of military renown. Nor were his feelings on this score in any degree at variance with the feelings of her to whom his early education was intrusted; for his mother's disposition, though tender and affectionate in the extreme, partook not slightly of the disposition of the Roman matrons. She had married Norman's father, in preference to other and more wealthy suitors, because he was a soldier; and when he died, she bore his loss with equanimity, because he died where a soldier ought to die, in the field of battle and in defence of his country. Brought up under the guidance of such a parent, Norman was taught to consider all fame as worthless except that which is earned amid scenes of violence and bloodshed; and the lesson thus early taught the events of his future life never permitted him to forget. Norman was an only son; indeed, an only child; yet he went with his mother's hearty benediction, at the early age of fifteen, to join the army. Gifted by nature with a constitution capable of enduring the severest hardships, and accustomed, even from the nurse's arms, to be abroad others sank were to him as nothing. He would wrap himself in his cloak, in the coldest night, and sleep as soundly upon the frozen earth, and under the canopy of heaven, as if he rested upon a bed of down and within the walls of a palace. If provisions were scanty, no one appeared to suffer less their scantiness, or digested in better humour On the longest march, Norman was never known to knock-up or fall into the rear, indeed it was his ordinary custom to lighten by turns such of the his insufficient meal. THE reader has doubtless not forgotten, that the move-in all weathers and at all hours, privations under which ments of the French army, and his own want of adequate means to prosecute the siege to a successful issue, compelled Lord Wellington, in the night of the 20th of October, 1812, to break up from before Burgos, and to commence his retreat towards the Douro. The weather chanced to be remarkably inclement for the season, heavy showers of rain continually falling, and cold blasts of wind prevailing: the roads were deep and rutty; few magazines of provisions lay along the line of march, and the ordinary supplies of the country were entirely exhausted; the troops, accordingly, began their journey in soldiers as exhibited most manifest symptoms of weakno very comfortable tone of mind. Nor were the appre-knapsacks; and then when it came to the final issue, ness, by carrying their arms and occasionally even their hensions which they entertained relative to the hardships and privations that awaited them by any means ill-founded. Perhaps the British army never suffered more from cold, exposure to damp, absolute hunger and fatigue, than it suffered during the retreat from Burgos to the Portuguese frontier; nor did sickness ever prevail to a more alarming degree, than in some divisions at least it did prevail after the different corps had established themselves in winter quarters. when man was opposed to man, and all the pomp and cirCool and undaunted whilst he cheered others forward, he cumstance of war were abroad, Norman was in his element. himself never forgot the real duties of an officer; his he ever suffer the enthusiasm of the moment so far to senses were under no circumstances confounded; nor did gain the ascendency as to cause a neglect, on his part, of a single precaution which the circumstances of the case seemed to require. racter. It is well known that at this period of the war the Portuguese infantry had acquired so high a degree of dis- far as military qualities are concerned in forming a chaSuch was the general character of Norman M'Leod, as cipline, as to be not unworthy of fighting in the same ranks with the English. For this a very sufficient reason He was a complete soldier, or as the despatches may be assigned: more humble, though not perhaps more express themselves, an officer of great promise, respected zealous, than their neighbours of Spain, the Portuguese by the profession in general, and an ornament to his consented to learn the rudiments of the military art from majesty's service.' But Norman was something more British masters; and admitted British officers, not only than a soldier. Endowed with principles of the strictest to subordinate stations in their army, but to the command and most unbending honour, Norman was likewise generof whole divisions, brigades, and battalions. Their Caça-ous, frank, liberal, and open-hearted. His brother offdores, that is the Portuguese light infantry, in particular, adored him. There was not a man in his corps who would cers loved as well as looked up to him; the private soldiers were chiefly committed to the guidance of British officers; and the writer of these pages can testify, from per- have refused to follow when he led, or who would not have sonal observation, that a finer body of men never entered cheerfully put his own life in the most imminent hazard the field. They were brave, obedient, and patient of in order to ensure Norman's safety. And Norman well fatigue in no ordinary degree; indeed, if they yielded in deserved all this. His manners were at once manly and Extracted from the writings of the Rev. G. GLEIG, author of The Subaltern,' &c. gentle; he never employed a harsh expression to attain an object where a mild expression would avail; and he found, as those who act upon his theory will always find, that he was much more readily attended to, and much more faithfully obeyed, than others who thought fit to follow a different course. It can hardly be expected that Norman was either a professed scholar or a very accomplished gentleman. He had entered the army at an age too early to permit his attaining to the first of these characters; and he had embarked upon active service too soon afterwards to give leisure for his acquiring the last. But Norman was neither ignorant nor unpolished. His natural abilities were of a high order, and what he once read he never forgot. Nature had, moreover, gifted him with a turn for music and drawing; both of these arts he sedulously cultivated as often as circumstances would allow, and in both he accordingly made considerable progress. With the French language he was familiarly acquainted from his childhood; and he had good sense enough to apply himself, as soon as he reached the Peninsula, to the study of the Portuguese and Spanish. For the practical branch of mathematics again, that branch which was connected with the science of his profession, he entertained an extreme fondness. He never passed through a strange country without examining it with an officer's eye, and taking sketches of such districts as appeared to him adapted for the prosecution of military operations; of every fortified place near which he chanced to be stationed he failed not to provide himself with an accurate plan; whilst during the inactive season of winter, it proved one of his favourite amusements to construct redoubts, after the fashion of Uncle Toby, in the sand, to open trenches before them, and to go through the whole process of a siege. But a soldier who is so far master of three foreign languages as to speak them with ease and fluency, who is well versed in the mathematics, not unacquainted with the history of Europe, and a tolerable proficient in music and landscape-painting, is not, as men go, to be accounted an ignorant person. at the battle of Salamanca he had attained to the rank of major by brevet. To this was soon afterwards added a lieutenant-colonelcy in the Portuguese service; and when the allied army removed from its ground at Alba de Tormes, Norman M'Leod found himself in command of a battalion of Caçadores inferior in point of discipline, equipment, and gallantry, to none which took part in the Peninsular war. At the head of this battalion, Norman took his full share in the various operations which conducted the allied troops by way of Valladolid, Cuellar, Segovia, and Madrid, and again through Valladolid towards Burgos. In the assault upon the hill of St Michael he particularly distinguished himself; and, perhaps, had the attack on the south-west front of the castle been intrusted to him and his gallant Caçadores, the result might have been very different from that which actually occurred. Be that however as it may, one thing at least is certain, that the reputation which he had previously acquired suffered no diminution by his conduct before Burgos; and at last, when to abandon further attempts upon that place was judged prudent, he and his regiment were especially selected to form part of the rear-guard, and as such to cover the retreat of the rest of the army. It consists not with the plan of my present narrative to offer even a brief sketch of the progress of that retreat, by marking out so much as the different routes along which the allied troops defiled; enough is done when I state in general terms that, after a variety of movements on both sides, a good deal of skirmishing, and here and there a little cannonading, the British army, with the exception of Sir Rowland Hill's corps, which withdrew southward into Estremadura, established itself, on the 24th of November, above the Tormes. The position was a convenient one, and the advanced season of the year rendered it desirable not to change it. But it was nevertheless necessary that a communication should be kept up with other parts of the country, and for this purpose a few corps were detached from both flanks, considerably beyond the line, to serve as chains of connexion and to do the duty of pickets of observation. On this perilous and important service Norman was employed. He took post at a place called Alanjuez, a village or rather hamlet about a couple of leagues from the right of the allied cantonments; and there, in a manner more delightful than often falls to the lot of soldiers upon active service, he passed the winter. Is the reader desirous to know something of Norman's external appearance? He shall be gratified. Norman was by no means a handsome man; that is to say, his features were not regular, neither was his figure a piece of absolute symmetry. His hair was a light brown-when an infant it had been flaxen; his eyes were blue, quick, penetrating, and expressive; his complexion, originally fair, had become tanned through frequent exposure to the sun; but the principal charm of his countenance consisted, after all, in a general air of good humour, high courage, and great intelligence, which overspread it. In The hamlet of Alanjuez consists of about a dozen neat like manner, though tall, full-chested, and well-formed, cottages, built at considerable intervals the one from the it is probable that the connoisseur in manly beauty would other, with a large casa or chateau in the rear; the latter have pronounced him striking and soldier-like rather than being the residence of Don Fernando Navarette, whose elegant. Perhaps his absolute indifference to points usu- ancestors for many generations back have owned considerally esteemed important among young men may accountable tracts of the surrounding country, and extended to the for this; Norman was neither a fop in his dress nor a inmates of these cottages the protection of feudal chiefpetit maître in his carriage. Yet with all his personal tains. By some fortunate accident or another, Alanjuez defects, and they were many, Norman M'Leod was per- had never, though lying but a short space out of the line haps better calculated to make an impression upon the of hostile operations, been visited, up to the period of fair sex than ninety-nine out of a hundred carpet knights,' Norman's arrival, by soldiers from either of the contendwhose bravery is for the most part exhibited in their ing armies. The consequence was, that Norman found attire, and whose symmetry arises at least as much from matters here in a condition widely different from that in the skill of their tailor as from the operations of Dame which he was elsewhere accustomed to find them. The Nature. chateau stood at the base of a steep hill, concealed in a great degree from observation amid groves of orange and olive trees; a long straight avenue of chestnuts led to it from the village, which had suffered no injury; the garden was not laid waste; its doors, windows, and roof, were in perfect preservation; the very lawn in front of it bore no traces of violence; and the flower-beds exhibited symptoms of care lately bestowed upon them. Nor bad the habitations of the peasantry been subjected to other or worse treatment than that which befel the abode of their lord. They were all of them entire, and the little spots of ground about them, their orange-groves, vineyards, mulberry-plantations, and fields of Indian corn, all presented the same appearances which, at a similar season of the year, they are likely to present now, or rather did present previous to the French invasion. It by no means follows in the army, more than in other professions, that those whose acquirements best entitle them to success are invariably successful. Many a Wellington, doubtless, pines away his youth and his manhood in a subordinate situation; exactly as many an Eldon, for want of opportunities to make himself known, lives and dies a briefless barrister. But of the number of those doomed to undeserved neglect Norman M'Leod was not one. The reputation of his father did something for him; it induced those in power at least to fix their eyes upon him; and his own talents and enthusiastic love of his profession, speedily confirmed them in the favourable opinion which they were disposed to form of him. His rise was rapid. At the battle of Vimiera he bore a lieutenant's commission in one of the Highland regiments; It will easily be imagined that a scene such as has been just described, the sight of a solitary village enjoying, or appearing to enjoy, the blessings of peace in the heart of a country overrun in other quarters by foreign troops, and subject to the varied miseries attendant upon a state of active warfare, affected Norman with sensations to which for some time back he had been a stranger. Nor was the influence of these sensations the less powerful that the day on which he reached Alanjuez chanced to be a remarkably fine one; the sun shone bright and warm, and the air was soft and mild, as if spring had already set in, though November had not yet passed away. The woods too, which overhung the village and extended as far as the eye could reach along the hills, being intermixed with a more than ordinary proportion of evergreens, presented to the gazer's view the lively tints of summer to the full as prominently as the more sombre hues of winter. A rivulet of clear water, pouring from the top of the rock, rushed and roared its unseen progress through the forest, and came out at length in a bright pool into the valley. Every thing, in short, animate and inanimate, breathed the same spirit of security and peace. No putrefying carcasses of man or beast lay around, to attract the kites and vultures or other birds of prey from their nests amidst the cliffs; but a thousand little throats made the thickets ring with a melody peculiar to themselves, and which more, perhaps, than any other sound, bespeaks the presence of tranquillity and repose. Norman was too much struck with the entire scene not to experience something like compunction for the necessity which compelled him, to a certain degree at least, to interrupt it. But he determined that no precaution should be wanting on his part for the purpose of rendering the interruption as little injurious as possible; at all events, that no act of wanton outrage should be committed by his soldiers either upon the inhabitants or their property. He accordingly halted his battalion at the outskirts of the hamlet, and riding forward by himself, proceeded to make such arrangements as appeared best calculated to secure the attainment of these objects. The advance of Norman's battalion had not been unobserved by the people of Alanjuez, but they did not on that account abandon their houses. Whether it was that, by means of some look-out parties, they had been made aware that the advancing troops were their allies, or whether, having no place of safety to retire to, they resolved to trust to the clemency even of their enemies, should such approach, I do not know, but Norman no sooner appeared in the hamlet than he was surrounded by women and children, all entreating him to protect them from the violence of the soldiers. This Norman readily promised to do, and the regiment being moved forward, a chain of outposts was planted, after which such companies as were not immediately required for duty took up their quarters in the different cottages. Norman was still hesitating where to establish himself, when a venerable old man, whose upright figure and stiff deportment left no room to doubt as to the station which he held in society, rode up to him. The stranger introduced himself as Don Fernando Navarette, and requested Norman, as commandant of the detachment, to take up his abode in the castle. To this the young soldier offered no objection. Carrying with him a force of two hundred men, which he stationed in the barns and other outbuildings attached to the mansion, he himself readily consented to become the guest of Don Fernando; nor had many hours elapsed ere he found himself as perfectly at home as if he really formed one of the family. I have said that Alanjuez exhibited hardly any symptoms of being situated in the midst of a field of battle, and in the neighbourhood of two hostile camps, and as far as the appearance of inanimate substances go I said truly. But there was one circumstance connected with it which certainly told no tale of peace-not a single young man could be seen. Even in the chateau, the few male domestics who showed themselves were, like their master, greyheaded and feeble; whilst in many instances women per formed offices not generally expected from the sex in European nations; the fact was, that all the youths of the village, including Don Fernando's two sons, were in arms. They had joined the patriotic forces, on their first formation, and were now under the command of General Romano in a distant part of Spain. Don Fernando's family circle, accordingly, consisted of himself, three daughters, their duenna or governess, and a priest. The daughters were all of them strikingly handsome; but in the appearance of Theresa, the youngest, there was something which no young man with a heart wholly disengaged could look upon with indifference. Fairer by many degrees than the generality of Spanish maidens, Theresa Navarette retained just as much of her national complexion as may be seen every day among the loveliest of those English beauties whom we are in the habit of denominating brunettes. Her eyes were large, full, dark, and intelligent-fringed with long silken lashes, and surmounted by brows, arched indeed, but not so much arched as to give the slightest expression of weakness to her countenance; her hair, not exactly black, but of the darkest brown, was gathered up in part, after the fashion of her country, into a knot, and in part hung in the richest curls over her neck and shoulders. Her little well-formed mouth gave evidence, not less than the glance of her sparkling eye, of strong passions, high enthusiasm, and sensitive feeling; and her figure-Canova himself never formed a statue more perfect or more replete with elegance and symmetry. Add to all this, a liveliness of manner occasionally tinctured with romance, and a tolerably accurate picture of Theresa will be placed before the mind's eye of him who desires to look upon it. There is in the deportment of foreign families generally, and in those of Spain in particular, a degree of confiding frankness such as we rarely meet with in English society. Of this Norman was speedily made sensible. The old man, by degrees, laid aside as much of his constitutional gravity as it was possible for him to lay aside; the priest became talkative and entertaining; the duenna, instead of casting a cloud upon the intimacy which soon began to be formed between the English soldier and her young charges, appeared to promote it; and the girls themselves were all life and animation. As the evening drew on, a huge pile of wood was made to blaze upon the hearth; lamps were lighted, and the guitars being produced, Norman was entertained with a concert more pleasing to his ears than all the laboured performances of hired musicians, however skilful and however celebrated. It has been said that Norman was something of a musician himself. His voice was clear and rich; and being, from his long residence in the country, well acquainted with the favourite airs of Spain, he made himself more than ever agreeable to his fair friends by joining in their melody. In a word, when the little party separated for the night, they retired to their respective apartments mutually pleased with the accident which had brought them together, and determined, as far as their exertions could effect that end, that the days which were to come should not be less cheerful than that which had just expired. Days, weeks, and even months stole on, during which Norman, unassailed by attempts on the part of the enemy, unharassed by any extraordinary details of military duty, was permitted to enjoy at his leisure the society of this delightful family. And delighted they truly were. The old man gradually showed himself in his genuine colours -an ardent patriot worthy of the once honoured name of a Spaniard; the priest either had, or professed to have, about him none of the bigotry of his sect or the stiffness of his order; and as to the young ladies, they were all that the most fastidious critic in female excellence could desire. Great pains, it would appear, had been bestowed upon their education, for, contrary to the usual custom among their countrywomen, they were not only mistresses of many accomplishments, but possessed of strong sound sense and very considerable information. In Theresa, in particular, Norman found a pleasing companion, not only for his lighter moments but for moments when a desire for more serious and rational conversation came upon him. She talked of the condition of her country with all the fire of an enthusiast; contrasted its present degraded state with its former glory, till, catching animation from the topic, her bright eyes would fill with tears and her cheeks grow crimson with excited feeling. Then, as if ashamed of her violence, she would cast a timid glance towards Norman, and entreat him to bear with the rudeness of a girl who had seen so little of life. You natives of a northern climate,' she would say, are calm, they tell me, and temperate; but in the veins of the Navarettes too much Gothic blood is flowing for any child of that house to behold the degeneracy of Spain with indifference. But come, Norman, we will change the subject; and you shall tell me of the mountains and lakes and the plaided warriors and blue-eyed maidens of Scotland.' And Norman was not backward in complying with her request. With all the nationality of a Highlander, he dwelt upon the deeds of his forefathers, till he, in his turn, caught the enthusiasm with which his auditor had been previously affected; nor, perhaps, were the young people drawn together by any tie more powerful than by admiration of each other's patriotism and an equal devotion to military glory. At length the springing herbs and shooting leaves, the opening flowers and richer and more varied choruses of singing birds, gave evidence that winter had passed away and summer was approaching. There was a time, and that time not very distant, when Norman would have hailed the return of spring with delight, merely because it is the season for hostile armies to take the field and fresh campaigns to be opened. But now he felt, and he knew not why, that his ideas on that head were changed. Not that his love for the profession had in the slightest degree abated, very far from it, but he had never passed the winter months so agreeably, and therefore he could not but regret that they were gone. In spite of himself he became pensive and melancholy. Nor was he alone affected by a palpable depression of spirits. Every member of the family partook in a greater or less degree of a similar feeling; whilst Theresa's sorrow was too acute for concealment. Insensibly, as it would appear, Norman and she devoted every day more and more of their time to each other. Instead of inviting the rest to accompany them, as it had been their custom, they would wander forth alone into the woods, and without making any regular appointments, they found themselves continually meeting in the most sequestered spots. Yet no profession of love had passed either of their lips. If their conversation partook somewhat more of the tender than it had formerly done, it became so only when mention happened to be made of Norman's approaching departure, and even then no more was expressed than sentiments of the warmest friendship, and deep regret that an acquaintance so manifestly delightful to all parties must so soon be broken off. Such was the state in which affairs stood, when one morning an orderly dragoon was observed riding at a brisk trot down the avenue. Norman was at that moment reclining upon a window-seat; Theresa sat beside him, with her guitar suspended from her neck, having just concluded one of those exquisitely plaintive airs for which the Spanish music is remarkable; and her sisters were employed, one in finishing a miniature of the young soldier which she had taken, the other in passing judgment upon the performance. Don Fernando and the priest had strolled abroad, and the duenna had retired to enjoy her siesta. Theresa's keen eye first caught the form of the trooper. 'Good God!' cried she, in alarm, 'I see a horseman !' Norman sprang upon his feet, and looking out, immediately guessed the nature of the business which brought him. Theresa,' said he, mournfully, the time has come which we have so long dreaded. That horseman brings an order for our separation.' Theresa replied not, her cheeks became deadly pale, and had not Norman caught her in his arms she must have fallen from her seat. You are ill, Theresa; dear Theresa, you are very ill; your cheek is pale and your breathing is suspended.' Only a momentary sickness,' replied she, gasping, 'to which I am occasionally subject. I shall be better presently.' So saying she rose, and, followed by her sisters, withdrew from the apartment. The preceding scene at once opened Norman's eyes to the nature of his own feelings, and gave him assurance of the impression which he had made upon Theresa. But no great extent of time was granted to consider the subject. The dragoon had already alighted, and seeing Norman at the window, proceeded up stairs to deliver his orders; they contained, as he expected they would contain, directions for the immediate evacuation of Alanjuez, and the concentration of the army at Freynada. The orders were peremptory, but had they been less so Norman was still too much of a soldier to suffer any consideration of private feelings to interfere with his duty; he dismissed the messenger, and hurrying towards the cantonments, commanded the troops to pack up the baggage and to get under arms an hour before day-light on the following morning. As soon as this was done, and he had seen things put in a train of preparation, Norman bent his steps towards the spot where Theresa and he had of late spent much of their time. It was a beautiful and retired dell, overshadowed with tall cork trees, and close beside the margin of the stream. Here he threw himself down upon the grass, and gave full vent to his over-wrought feelings. In the midst of how many difficulties was he cast? He loved the maiden tenderly; and it was evident that he was tenderly beloved in return; but was this a time for love or dalliance? Could he talk to her of marriage at a moment when he was on the point of leaving her perhaps for ever? And were the case otherwise, what probability was there that Don Fernando, a Spanish grandee and a bigotted Catholic, would consent to his daughter's union with him, a foreigner, a heretic, and a mere soldier of fortune? Norman pondered these things long and earnestly, and, in spite of many opposing impulses, came at length to this conclusion, that it would be honourable on his part not to speak of love in direct terms to Theresa at all, but rather to incur the blame of unkindness and ingratitude by abandoning Alanjuez at once, than by seeing and conversing with her again, to run the risk of being surprised into a confession of his feelings. He had arrived at this magnanimous resolution, and rose to carry it into immediate effect, when a light step caught his ear, and looking up he beheld Theresa herself beside him. Her cheek was still of an ashy paleness, but her eyes were full of fire, and an occasional flush came over her countenance, expressive of some powerful feeling at work within. Theresa!' said Norman, as he seized her hand, 'I had hoped to escape this. I intended to save both and myself the pain of a formal parting!' you She was silent for some moments, but she permitted him still to retain her hand. At length, after a severe struggle to compose herself, she said, in a tone of voice at once solemn and affecting-It is well, Norman; your design was a prudent and perhaps a proper one. It is time that we did part, and that for ever. Nay, nay,' continued she, seeing that he was about to interrupt her, 'suffer me to proceed, and then I will hear you patiently. Perhaps you will call me forward, indelicate, every thing which a woman ought not to be; but these are not times neither is ours a situation in which the ordinary forms of life can be attended to. Go, Norman, go and carry with you the sincerest and most devoted affection of one who never knew happiness till she saw you, and shall never know it again when you are gone. Go and forget her. May He whom we both worship shield you in the day of battle! and may you return to your own land and make happy one more worthy of you than I am! But even then, Norman, think kindly of me. When your blue-eyed bride smiles upon you, even then spare one thought for Theresa, not of love-for that will be hers-but of pity. For me, my resolution is formed-I renounce the world for ever.' 'Theresa, Theresa,' cried Norman, passionately, this is too much. I had determined not to speak to you of love, at least at present, till your country should be delivered from her enemies, and I could return to claim you as my bride; but hear me now. I swear by every thing that is sacred in this world and in the next-by thine own pure self I swear-that I have never loved and never can love but thee. I knew not the sensation till we met; I shall never know it for another. Why shake thy head, dearest Theresa,' continued he, as the maiden's look became more sorrowful than ever; dost thou not love me? Do I not love thee? And when the war has come to an end may I not return to woo thee ?' 'Love thee, Norman! I love thee not as women usually love; but as the martyr loves his religion, even so do I love thee. But what avails it? our faiths are not the same, Norman; and I cannot wed a heretic.' 'Oh, talk not of differences in faith. Do we not worship the same God and the same Redeemer? and what are minor distinctions to us? I will never disturb thee in the exercise of thy religion, and among my own kindred are many who will join thee in them; let not that divide us. Say, dearest Theresa, that when peace is proclaimed I may come for thee; and that thou wilt cross the sea with me, and dwell among the glens and hills of my romantic country.' The conversation had proceeded thus far, and Norman, unconsciously throwing his arm around the maiden's waist, had pressed her to his bosom, anxious and yet apprehensive of her reply, when their attention was suddenly called off to other subjects by the report of a musket; a second and a third took place, then a volley from one of the out-picquets. Instantly the bugles sounded. It is the enemy,' cried Norman; 'fly, Theresa, fly to the house; there you will be safe: we will defend it to the last.' The lovers ran towards the chateau as fast as they were able. The troops were already under arms, and Norman's horse, always upon duty, was at the door in an instant. He sprang into the saddle, and leaving another officer to take charge of the reserve, he galloped towards the front. One of the outposts was already forced, and a column of fifteen hundred French infantry were advancing. Norman formed such of his men as were up to the best advantage among the woods, and despatching a messenger with orders for the companies in the rear to throw an abbatis across the avenue, and to occupy the cottages on each side, he awaited the approach of the enemy. They came on, as French soldiers always come on, with the most determined resolution. The Caçadores, animated by the example of their colonel, bravely met them, but their numbers being inadequate to successful resistance, at least for any length of time, they gradually gave ground. The French, imagining that the whole force was engaged, concluded of course that all opposition was overthrown; they pursued in considerable disorder. This accorded well with Norman's plan; they were already at the head of the avenue, when the troops from behind the abbatis, with those in the cottages, opened a tremendous fire: the enemy were thoroughly confounded. Norman had still about three hundred men with himself, whilst two hundred defended the approach to the chateau. He formed his body into line and advanced to the charge. The French, by no means expecting an attack, lost all confidence and fled. But at this moment, when victory was secured, and the assailants were escaping as they best could into the thickets, a shot from one of their skirmishers struck Norman in the side. He fell from his horse, and having uttered but these words, 'Oh! my mother!' instantly expired. ing deposited in an inner chamber the priest, the duenna, and his daughters, all except Theresa, whom no entreaties could prevail upon to quit the window, he barricaded the door, and planted himself and his two aged domestics, each armed with a rifle, in such a situation as would enable them to fire upon the enemy in case the guard at the abbatis should be forced. They were standing thus, listening with anxiety, not unmixed with triumph, to the receding sound of musketry, when a party of soldiers made their appearance bearing a body, wrapped up in one of the blankets, down the avenue. Theresa's palpitating heart instantly whispered to her the truth. It is he,' she exclaimed, starting back, and rushing towards the door, it is Norman! he has fallen, and fallen defending us.' Her father vainly endeavoured to oppose her progress; she rushed down stairs, and drawing aside the bars and bolts, met the party just as they had reached the lawn. The men were in tears, and her apprehensions received an immediate confirmation. She did not even look upon him; for before the bearers had time to lay him down, or withdraw the covering from about him, her heart broke-and she was a corpse! The lovers were laid side by side in a little mausoleum attached to the chateau of Alanjuez, the prejudices of Catholics giving way to personal regard. Theresa was long and deeply lamented by her relatives; and Norman's name received the applause which could no longer reach his own ears, but which in no slight degree served to alleviate the sorrow of his desolate parent. VACCINATION-ITS NATURE AND ADVANTAGES. In treating of the subject of vaccination, it will be our object not only to explain its nature, but also to trace its influence, and the benefits it has conferred, and still continues to bestow, on individuals as well as on nations; and further, to specify the conditions of this beneficial influence, both in connexion with other laws affecting population, and in reference to the neglect of parents in not having their children vaccinated. Before entering, however, into the discussion of these points, it will be necessary to glance over the history of inoculation-a remedy which, from its precedence and analogy to vaccination, first claims our attention. The practice of inoculation, or the introduction into the system of the real small-pox virus, had long been known in the East, and was introduced into Europe so early as the year 1722. But this invention, at first hailed with great enthusiasm, was soon found to be so dangerous in its application that it was often difficult to say which was the worst-the supposed remedy or the disease. The reason of this failure was, that while inoculation was found a sufficient protection to such as were fortunate enough to have it applied to themselves in time; yet, from its contagious and virulent nature, it communicated to others who were not protected, and originated deadly epidemics in localities where, perchance, in the natural course of events, small-pox might never have appeared. Moreover, among those who were actually inoculated, individuals were found whose peculiar constitutions predisposed them to take the disease, not in the mild and local form intended by the operator, but accompanied by a general commotion of the system, which induced eruptions of as severe a nature, in their general results, as those attendant upon the disorder, when taken in the natural way. Such are, in a few words, the disadvantages and dangers of inoculation, which, fortunately for mankind, were destined to be removed by the superior practice of vaccination. To Edward Jenner, a native of Gloucestershire, The family in the chateau were, as may readily be and a physician in the district of Berkeley, belongs, as imagined, overcome with alarm at the suddenness of the all are aware, the honour of discovering the cow-pox attack; but Don Fernando retained too much of the spirit remedy. It was he who first, in 1798, pointed out to the of an ancient Spaniard, to seek his safety in flight. Hav-world that variola, or small-pox, so far from being a dis |