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the stream-he bathed, took off his wet's garments, and quietly hung them on a bush to dry. Whilst that process was going on, he, like a skilful general, reconnoitred the ground, and was just giving the last turn to his waistband, when the horses of the two suwars became fidgetty, and he took that opportunity of stepping behind the bush on which his clothes had been drying, went along the bank of the nulla stealthily for ten or twelve paces, and upon reaching the thicker jungle, ran like a deer; his flight was unperceived at the moment, but as soon as the men paraded for the march, they found themselves minus one of their prisoners, they searched in vain for him; but to prevent such accidents in future, they bound the others with their hands behind their backs, and in that state led them to the civil authority at Jubulpore, where they were identified as Thugs, and some of them, who had confessed their crimes, were sent, under a strong guard, to point out the graves of the poor Muhajuns and others they had murdered, which they did, and the bodies were found. The gang were tried; and with the exception of a few, all hanged:-at the place of execution they requested not to have their hands pinioned, or be touched by the executioner, and on ascending the platform, each man seized a noose which he adjusted to his own neck, and four or five of them immediately leapt off and hung themselves, without waiting for the drop to fall-Nor did Heera ultimately escape. We last left him flying off with the speed of a deer. A few days after that event he joined a small party of Thugs, whom he recognized as such, by their watchword, on the road, and soon afterwards they were surprised in the act of burning the jacket of a sepoy whom they had murdered, by some of his fellow soldiers; and it was with the utmost difficulty that the commanding officer prevented the men from bayonetting them on the spot, in revenge for their comrade's murder, which they discovered by the half-burned regimental jacket. He was tried in due course: and being a very notorious Thug was hanged in chains.

C.

1 Captain Sleeman has been most particularly active and successful in his pursuit of these wretches.

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10 Thugs never use a cord to strangle with, for fear of being suspected, should

such a thing be seen about their persons.

11 Brother! bring the tobacco.

12 A Guide, and sort of police officer.

13 Devil.

14 Horsemen.

15 Natives always bathe with a portion of their clothes on.

NOTE. Had I not given this sketch in its present form, I must have written a sort of history of the Thugs. My relation is founded upon depositions given by Thugs themselves, to various officers who have been active in seizing them; and, in it, the atrocities of these remorseless murderers are but faintly coloured. There is scarcely an instance of a Thug's ever abandoning this dreadful trade. These wretches exist in great numbers all over India, and recognize each other by a peculiar cant language and watchwords.—They admit all castes and tribes into their association; they remain in their own homes during the rainy season, and set off on their work of destruction at the beginning of the cold weather, only returning to their villages when the rains prevent travelling. There is not an incident I have mentioned, but what is taken from facts.—Extract from a private letter to the Editor.

THE RETURN.

Back-back to the hills

Where the wild deer is bounding;
The forest and glens

Where the streams are resounding;

No more of the city

No more of the plain

Oh welcome the free breath
Of heaven again!

I have sigh'd-I have pined
For my wn mountain-home,
Till hope died within me—
I come-I come!

Oh bitter is exile

Where mourning is vain,
But it doubles the transport
Of meeting again.

The breath of the heath-wind
Is marking my track,
The voice of the hill-torrent
Summons me back!
Glad sounds as of welcome

Fall fast on my ear,

And the old echoes chide me

For lingering here.

I come,-But oh chide not

The absent so long,
If his spirit uncaged

Spread its pinions in song;
It hath burst from its prison,
Hath broken its chain-
Now welcome the free wilds

And mountains again!

VIRELAY.

BY R. CALDER CAMPBELL.

I.

I loved thee as the wild winds love

The waves they kiss, on a summer day— The flowers they caress,-the trees they move In their fond, fantastic play:

Sweet their first kisses, but soon-like ours,

They ruffle the waters, and rifle the flowers;

O'er the blooms they have shattered in sport they go—
Do the winds love them then? Oh, no !-no!no!
II.

I loved thee as the bright sun loves
The green earth it hails at morn,
When the early dews give drink to the doves
From the blossomy cups of the thorn:
And warm and soft as its light was the feeling
That lit our hearts' love, in its first revealing;
But the sun soon quaffed up the dews-and so
Came bright;-did the sun love the earth, then?—No!
III.

I loved thee with the love that lives

In the blithe lark's breast, for the sky;
There it sings all day, and its tribute gives
To the fair things it sees on high:

But twilight creeps o'er the heavens bright,
And the fickle bird flies with the fading light;
So I left thee when guilt crept over thy brow,-
Did the lark love the sky then?-No!-no-no!

IV.

I loved thee as the Acacia loves

To spring in a desolate spot,
Where the hot Simoom in its fierceness roves,
And yet it fadeth not!

tree too,

But time with his scythe fells the green
And time this with love should never do:

But he killed the tree and my love at a blow-
-Do I love the now! Oh!-no-no-no!

V.

I loved thee as young genius loves

The thing it deems most fair!

-When the deep, bright snow its cloak removes,
Looks not the black earth bare?

And thou hast flung from thy treacherous heart
The visor that masked its subtle art;

And I laugh at the hand that dealt the blow,
For it irks me not now; do I love thee? No!

THE LOG-BOOK,—No. I,

I believe there are few men who have attained the age of advanced manhood, and have experienced the changes and caprices of fortune, however induced, whether by carelessness, unavoidable accident, or a wilful neglect of those opportunities of advancement, which invited their attention, or which chance seemed to throw in their way, but have to mourn over the loss of disappointed prospects, and to see their early aspirations stripped of those gaudy colours in which young hope had clothed them. This is natural-it is the quit-rent imposed upon humanity, and as we advance in years and knowledge of mankind and experience, the frustration of our wishes and desires that present themselves successively to the heart, as if in mockery of possession, we feel the bitterness of disappointment so keenly, that we must look to a higher source for consolation than the poor resources of our own unassisted minds!

I had been led into these reflections from a review of my own juvenile career: destined from the cradle for the naval profession I was brought up under those expectations, and my young and growing mind was fed by all those external incentives to ambition, which the localities of a naval sea-port town abounded with, during the progress and climax of an unexampled war. My earliest recollections are rife with sailors and soldiers; martial music and military reviews; ships of war and the roar of their artillery; military and naval uniforms flaunting in all the variegated colours of the rainbow; and indeed all the paraphernalia of what Lord Byron styles "the WindpipeSlitting and Throat-Cutting Trade"! I remember that my early conceptions were pretty vivid, and I was not slow in asking what all this meant? My mother was the grand fount of knowledge from whom I drew my information; and from her I learnt that all this mighty bustle was set in motion to subdue Bonaparte, who was endeavouring to come to England to put us all to death, and that when I grew old enough, I must tread in the footsteps of my father, and fight Bonaparte too. It was but seldom I saw my father during my first years of boyhood, like angels' visits our meetings "were few and far between." He was serving afloat as lieutenant of a ship of war, and I was particular in inquiring if my father should kill this man, how would the king of England reward him? Why, he would make him an admiral, said my mother. Oh! how I anxiously wished he should be the happy man to atchieve this heroic enterprise, nothing doubting, that should they ever meet in mortal combat, of which I saw no cause to dispute the probability, he would be the Isrealitish champion to put down this goliah of Europe. Occasionally when he arrived from sea, I would steal into his room, admire the beauty of his cocked-hat and uniform coat, draw his sword from its sheath, and try to cut one, two, at the shadow of my own creation; when a smart rap on the ear, from his shoulder-of-mutton hand, would recal me

to a lively sense of the painful realities of life, and convince me that it was a dangerous thing to play with edge tools.

The war had raged about three or four years after the short peace of Amiens, when my father, from a mixed cause of family affairs, and disappointment in promotion over which he had no control, accepted the charge of a signal post stationed about 8 miles to the eastward of that celebrated naval depôt, Plymouth Dock, (now called Devonport,) and where his family had resided some years. Perhaps it is hardly necessary to inform my readers, that there was a regular cordon of them established round that part of the coast of England, fronting the British channel, North Sea, and other prominent points, likely to be visited by an enemy's cruizer, by means of which a telegraphic communication could be kept up with the most distant points of the country, information could be speedily conveyed to the different naval head-quarters, and even ships of war sailing along shore, could be made acquainted with any necessary information. These posts were commanded by lieutenants of the navy; but woe be to the aspiring mind who accepted one; he might flatter himself with the delusion, that it was to be only for two or three years, until he could recruit his health, put his affairs in order, and go to sea again. It was a "slough of despond";-the grave of his hopes from which there was but small chance of his resurrection, and as such it proved to my respected parent, who, I can remember, would sometimes say, "Well, I'll remain here a few months longer, and then go to sea again, and take the youngster with me." He deceived himselfyear after year stole away, and found my father still "at his post," until I verily believe unknown to himself, so imperceptibly does "hoary headed time" insinuate his acquaintance-he found he was more fit to govern the quiet and sober details of his household, than to command the active and uproarious operations of a man-of-war. I have said he was a disappointed man in promotion. I will relate two out of several chances, that looked favorable for him, but in which he was deceived. He was second lieutenant of the Prince George, 98, in Lord St. Vincent's action with the Spanish Fleet on the 14th February, but did the duty of first lieutenant of the ship, on that important day, in consequence of the proper first being confined to his cot from extreme ill health, and was not expected to live; but however, death concluded a truce with that of ficer, or else he would not die in spite of death, for he recovered, and received his promotion. This was very proper, as a brave officer under such circumstances should not lose the benefit of preferment, but I dare say you will think reader, or at least my father did, that he too, under the the peculiar circumstances of the case, was entitled to his step: but no, the Admiralty have generally acted on a rule to promote the senior only, and a departure from that line, in a single instance, would lay the foundation of numberless claims, which it would be impossible to calculate, and the claimants would have the plea of a precedent to urge in their favor; the other case was at Lord Nelson's celebrated attack on Copenhagen. He was first Lieutenant of the Raisonnable, a 64-gun ship, commanded by Captain Dilkes; but she was not engaged, and it will be necessary to account to the general reader why? The grand British fleet,

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