entous illumination. Succeeding generations learnt to detest the errors of paganism, yet a distinct recollection remained of the warlike faith of their ancestors, nor did they doubt the existence of the demon-god. Hence, the peasants still tremble when the murky air resounds with the supposed baying of the hounds, and when the steeds, holding their course between earth and heaven, are heard to rush around the clouds, announcing the approach of THE WILD HUNTSMAN. IN Brunswick, Woden is known as the Hun er Hac kelberg, a sinful knight, who renounced his hope of the joys of heaven, on condition that he might be allowed to hunt until the day of doom. They show his sepulchre in a forest near Usslar. It is a vast, unhewn stone, an ancient druidical remain. This circumstance is of importance in confirming the connexion between the popular mythology, and the ancient religion of the country. According to the peasants, this grave-stone is watched by the dogs of hell, which constantly crouch upon it. In the year 1558, Hans Kirchof had the ill-luck to wander to it; he discovered it by chance, for no one can reach Hackelberg's tomb if he journeys with the express intent of finding it. Hans relates that, to his great astonishment, he did not see the dogs, although he admits that he had not a hair on his head which did not stand on end. All is quiet about the grave of Hackelberg; but the restless spirit retains his power at this very moment in the neighbourhood of the Odin Wald, or the forest of Odin, and amidst the ruins of the old baronial castle of the Rodenstein family. His appearance still prognosticates impending war. At midnight he issues from the tower, surrounded by his host: the trumpets sound, the war-wains rumble, the drums beat, and even the words of command are heard which are given to the ghostly soldiery by their leader. When peace is about to be concluded, Rodenstein and his soldiery return to the ruins, but with quiet and gentle steps, and borne along with harmony. Rodenstein will come when he is called. So deeply rooted is the superstitious belief which had its rise in these pagan fictions, that about twenty years ago, a Jäger in the employ of a neighbouring forester, stated, when in England, as a fact, that he passed by the tower at midnight. Being somewhat the worse for his potations, he called to the spirit, "Rodenstein, ziehe herause," and instantly the army rushed forth with such violence that the presumptuous huntsman was nearly frightened out of his senses. The Scandinavian Mythology gives the power of death to HELA, who rules the nine worlds of Nifleheim-a name which implies concealment. According to the popular belief of the Cimbric peasants, she spreads plague and pestilence, and diffuses all sorts of evil whilst she rides by night on the three-footed horse of hell (Helhert.) Hela and the war-wolves retained their empire in Normandy, although, after the northmen of Hastings became the Normans of Rollo, they seem to have lost the memory of their ancient superstitions as rapidly as they forgot the northern tongue. From HELA was generated HELLEQUIN ; a name in which, under the disguise of romance-orthography, there can be no difficulty in recognising HELA-KERN, the race of Hela. It was those whom Richard Fearnought, Duke of Normandy, the son of Robert the Devil, encountered, hunting and revelling in the forest. As the romance sets forth, Hellequin was a knight, who wasted his gold in the wars which Charles Martel waged against the heathen Saracens. When the wars were ended, he and his lineage, not having wherewithal to sustain themselves, took to wicked courses. They spared neither man, woman, nor child; and the sufferers cried to heaven for vengeance. When matters were at this pass, Hellequin fell sick and died, and was in fearful danger of condemnation; but the good works which he had performed by waging war against the heathen Saracens, availed him and it was allotted as a penance to him and his lineage, that, dead as they were, they should wander by night throughout the world, in bitterness and toil. But the romance of the wild huntsman was not confined to the woods of Normandy. In the year 1598, when Henry the Fourth was hunting in the forest of Fontainebleau, it was said, he suddenly heard the baying of hounds and the notes of the horn, seemingly at the distance of half a league from the spot where he was placed; but as suddenly these distant sounds were close at hand. Henry ordered the Earl of Soissons to prick forward. Soissons obeyed: and as he advanced, still heard the noises, without being able to ascertain whence they proceeded; at length a dark and gigantic figure appeared amongst the trees, and crying out "M'entendez-vous," instantly vanished. This story is remarkable for many reasons; Father Mathieu, the Jesuit, relates it in his Histoire de France et des Choses Mémorables advenues durant Sept Années de Paix du Règne de Henry IV., a work published in the lifetime of that monarch, to whom it is dedicated. Mathieu was well acquainted with Henry, from whom, if Father Daniel is to be trusted, he obtained much information. It has been supposed that the spectre was an assassin in disguise, and that the hand of Ravaillac would have been anticipated, if the good king himself had approached near enough to receive the dagger. Whatever the real nature of the apparition may have been, it seems that Henry did not wish that the story thould be discredited. Persons are not wanting, (concludes Mathieu,) who would have ranked this adventure with the fables of Merlin and of Urganda, if the truth, as affirmed by so many eyewitnesses and ear-witnesses, had not removed all doubts. The shepherds of the neighbourhood say that it was a spirit, whom they call the Grand Veneur, who hunts in this forest; but they hold that it is the hunt of St. Hubert, which is also heard in other places. The spirit appeared not far from the entrance of the town, at a cross-road, yet retaining the name of “La Croix du Grand Veneur." THERE is nothing magnanimous in bearing disappointment with fortitude, when the whole world is looking on. Men in such circumstances act bravely from motives of vanity; but he who, in the vale of obscurity, can brave adversity, who without friends to encourage, acquaintance to pity, with tranquillity, is truly great: and whether peasant or even without hope to alleviate his misfortunes, can behave courtier, deserves admiration, and should be held up for our imitation and respect.-GOLDSMITH. HE that is our Steward to provide for us, and supply us out of his treasury, who ripeneth the fruits on the trees, and the corn in the fields; who draweth us wine out of the the worm and fleece of the flock, will give us greater vine, and spinneth us garments out of the bowels of things than these. He that giveth us balm for our bodies will give us physic for our souls.--FARINDON. SOCIETY cannot exist, unless a controlling power upon will and appetite be placed somewhere; and the less there is the eternal constitution of things, that men of intemperate within, the more there must be without. It is ordained in minds cannot be free-their passions forge their fetters.BURKE. THE influence of the light of the sun is, in general, so necessary to the health of plants, that nearly the whole of those with which we are acquainted, open their blossoms in the morning, and close them as the evening approaches. The splendid plant represented in the engraving is an exception, however, to the general rule; each evening, during the season of blooming, it expands one of its magnificent and sweetly-scented blossoms, which it closes at the dawn of day, and never reopens. rounded by numerous leaflets of a yellow colour, proceeding from the calyx. This flower produces a fruit of an oval form, larger than a goose's egg, and covered with scales of a bright yellow colour, sometimes nearly red: its substance is fleshy, filled with very small seeds, and its flavour is agreeably acid. The stem is irregularly formed, nearly five-sided, and covered with small bristly prominences. The whole of the succulent plants receive the greater part of their nourishment from the moisture they absorb from the air, and but little from that afforded by the earth in which they are rooted. This power of retaining their vegetative powers, was well illustrated by an experiment of Saussure's, in which a branch of a species of Cactus, which for three weeks had been the subject of numerous experiments under the rays of the sun, and in the shade, was placed in the dark, in a cupboard without water or earth: here it remained for fourteen months, where it experienced, during the Winter, cold, nearly seventeen degrees below the freezing-point, and in Summer, a heat equal to seventy-eight degrees. At the end of this time, it was shrivelled up, and had lost its water of vegetation, but it had thrown out branches and roots over its whole surface, and not one portion of it had lost its vegetative power. The bounty of the Creator is beautifully exemplified in the history of all succulent plants. We shall find that most of this tribe are confined to the warmer regions of the globe, and that all delight in a dry situation. The houseleek is an instance frequently under our eyes, which in the dryest Summer remains plump and unwithered, although in the most exposed situation. From this it arises that in countries and situations where few other plants would grow, a supply of green and refreshing food is found, containing a much greater portion of moisture than any other productions of the vegetable kingdom. 機 THE NIGHT-BLOWING CEREUS. This beautiful specimen of the vegetable world belongs to the tribe of succulent plants, and resembles considerably the creeping Cereus so well known in England. It is a native of the West Indies, and of the warmer parts of America. The blossom of this plant is not only noted for the sweetness of its odour, but also for its size and beauty, being full six or seven inches in diameter; the blossom itself is white, surThe Planet Jupiter. ANECDOTE ARISING OUT OF A PORTUGUESE CUSTOM. THE Portuguese frequently adopt the children of other persons, educate them, and sometimes promote their future fortunes. The Infanta Regent, possessing the national taste, applied to an Irishwoman, who, forthwith, accommodated her royal highness with her own daughter, a thriving young girl, two years of age. The agreement was deliberately made, and the article in question sold and delivered. The mother, however, whose notions concerning the transfer of property were not peculiarly clear, returned after a short time, and wished to enter again into possession; to this the Infanta naturally demurred, and such a tumult of Irish ejaculations ensued, as had probably never before assailed the ears of any royal personage. In this emergency, an officer was requested to march his military person to the palace, where he found our heroine of the Emerald Isle, fiercely expostulating amidst a host of large black Brazilian women, who were screaming in chorus around her. Yet nothing daunted was the dame. "No one shall part me and my child," was still the burden of her song. A golden argument at length induced her to mitigate such unreasonable claims, and a satisfactory treaty of peace was concluded. She was allowed to retain her child during that night, and was provided with good lodgings, a good supper, and a sentinel at her door, to prevent either warlike or fugitive proceedings. I accompanied my friend in the evening to her room; she was then in the highest good humour, and greatly flattered by the notice taken of her blue-eyed child. On the following morning the little girl was conducted to the palace, according to agreement, while the mother was deposited on a donkey and peaceably removed.-Portugal and Gallicia. LONDON: JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, WEST STRAND. PUBLISHED IN WEEKLY NUMBERS, PRICE ONE PENNY, AND IN MONTHLY PART PRICE SIXPENCE. Sold by all Booksellers and Newsvenders in the Kingdom, THIS noble relic of the olden time stands in a district rife with historical mementos and classic associations; but celebrated as is the spot, it derives its highest-although a melancholy-interest, from its being the last earthly resting-place of the illustrious SIR WALTER SCOTT. Dryburgh is situated in Berwickshire, about four miles from Melrose, in the most delightful and picturesque part of a sylvan vale. It rises on the north bank of the Tweed, which here makes a bold sweep, and is backed by hills covered with hanging woods of the most luxuriant foliage. When viewed from the opposite bank of the river, the "dark Abbaie," standing amidst the gloom of wood, on a verdant level, above the high banks of earth which confine the course of the rapid stream, sweeping around it, is seen to great advantage; and, whether we contemplate the time-worn ruin, the harmony of nature, or the remembrance of "the years that are past," the landscape is one of singular interest and beauty. It has been conjectured, that the name of Dryburgh is derived from the Celtic, Darach-Bruache, "the bank of the sacred grove of oaks, or the settlement of the Druids;" some vestiges of Pagan worship, (among which was an instrument used for slaughtering the sacrificial victims,) have been found on the Bass-Hill, an eminence in its vicinity, and seem to VOL. X. strengthen this conjecture. In the early part of the sixth century, a monastery is said to have been founded here by St. Modan, one of the first preachers of Christianity in Scotland. St. Modan was abbot in 522, but it is supposed, that after his death the com munity was transferred to Melrose *, since no subsequent mention is made of the Abbey till about the year 1150, when the present structure was founded by Hugh de Morville, Constable of Scotland, and Lord of Lauderdale, the district in which it is situated. According to the "Chronicle of Melros," Beatrix de Beauchamp, wife of the above, obtained a charter of confirmation from David the First, who assumes in the deed the designation of founder, and to this charter Hugh de Morville is a witness; but it sufficiently appears that this Abbey, on its new foundation, owed its establishment to these illustrious subjects, and was afterwards taken under the protection of King David, who was a most munificent patron of the Scottish monastic edifices. The cemetery was consecrated on St. Martin's day, 1150, but the community did not come to reside here until the 13th or December, 1152. The monks were of the Premon Mr. Morton, in his Monastic Annals of Teviotdale, observes, that it "was probably destroyed by the ferocious Saxon invaders, under Ida, the flame-bearer,' who landed on the coast of Yorkshire, in 547, and, after subduing Northumberland, added this part of Scotland to his dominions, by his victory over the Scoto-Britons, at Cattnaeth." 312 stratensian order, and were brought from Alnwick. In 1322, the Abbey was subject to a heavy calamity, a considerable portion being burnt and destroyed by the soldiers under Edward the Second, in revenge for certain insults offered them by the monks, who imprudently rang the church bells on their departure. King Robert Bruce contributed largely to its restoration, but it is doubtful whether it was afterwards rebuilt either in its original style or magnificence. In 1545, Dryburgh Abbey was again plundered and burnt by the English, under the Earl of Hertford. At the dissolution in 1587, (at which period the lands and revenues were annexed to the Crown), it was erected into a temporal lordship and peerage, by James the Fourth of Scotland, who granted the Abbey and its demesnes to Henry Erskine, created Lord Cardross, the second son of John, Earl of Mar, Lord High Treasurer of Scotland, and Mary, daughter of Esme Stewart, Duke of Lennox, the direct ancestor of David Stewart Erskine, Earl of Buchan, elder brother of Thomas Lord Erskine, Lord Chancellor, and uncle to the present proprietor, Sir David Erskine. pension-bridge over the Tweed, at a short distance from the Abbey, two hundred and sixty feet long, of a light and elegant appearance. His lordship, also, erected on the summit of a neighbouring hill, a colossal statue of the hero Wallace, which was placed on its pedestal on the 22nd of September, 1814, the anniversary of the victory at Stirling Bridge, in 1297, and occupies so lofty a situation, that it is visible even from Berwick, a distance of more than thirty miles. The statue is seventy feet high, and formed of red sandstone, painted white. The late Earl of Buchan, a nobleman of eccentric habits, felt a peculiar interest in the ruins of Dryburgh. He fitted up one of the dilapidated apartments of the Abbey, in a style corresponding to the original, which he called his sanctissimum, and to which he frequently resorted. In 1819, we are told by Allan Cunningham, that this nobleman waited upon Lady Scott, when Sir Walter was afflicted with a dangerous illness, "to intercede with her husband. to do him the honour of being buried in Dryburgh." "The place," said the Earl, "is very beautiful,-just such a place as the Poet loves;" his lordship, however, became a tenant of the ancient cemetery before the lamented poet. the lamented poet. The last resting-place of Sir Walter Scott is a small spot of ground in an area formed by four pillars, in one of the ruined aisles, which belonged to his family. His uncle, Robert Scott, and his lady, are, however, the only members of the family who lie interred there. From the limited dimensions of the place, the body of the author of Waverly, has been placed in a direction thus, in death at least, he has resembled the Cameronians, of whose character he was supposed to have given such an unfavourable picture in one of his tales. Peace be to his ashes! In the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, there is a singular narrative of an unfortunate female, who inhabited a vault amidst the ruins of the Abbey, between eighty and ninety years ago. She was popularly called the Nun of Dryburgh, and from an account she gave of a spirit who used to arrange her habitation at night, whilst she wandered forth to solicit the charity of the neighbouring gentry, it was believed that the vault was haunted; and to this day it is regarded with superstitious dread by the peasantry. During the day-time she immured herself in the vault, but could never be prevailed upon to assign a reason why she adopted so remarkable a course of life. Sir Walter Scott, however, who relates the anecdote, says,— In beholding the ruins in their present state, the usurpation of nature over the works of man is everywhere apparent. The structure is, indeed, completely overgrown with foliage; evergreens may be seen flourishing amidst the solemn desolation of a roofless apartment; in others, the walls are clothed with ivy to their summits; and on the top of some of the arches, trees of considerable growth have sprung up, which add to the adornment of the venerable edifice. The age of these trees is a certain proof of the anti-north and south, instead of the usual fashion; and quity of its destruction. The original design of the Abbey was cruciform, divided in the breadth into three parts, by two colonnaded arcades; the transepts and choir have all been short; a part of the north transept which is still standing, is called St. Mary's aisle, and is a beautiful specimen of early English Gothic architecture. The fine Norman arch, origi- | nally the western doorway, shown in our view, is enriched with ornaments in general use at the period the Abbey is said to have been founded; the sculpture is chaste, and unaffected by time, and it may, perhaps, be considered the most striking feature of the remains. The monastery is in a state of utter ruin and decay; and nothing is entire but the chapter-house, St. Modan's chapel, and the adjoining passages. The chapter-house is forty-seven feet long, twenty-three broad, and twenty in height; at the east end there are five early English pointed windows; the western extremity contains a circularheaded centre window, with a smaller one on either side. The hall is adorned with a row of intersected arches. Mr. George Smith, architect, states in his valuable and interesting description of the Abbey:From a minute inspection of the ruins, we are led to believe that there are portions of the work of a much earlier date. The arch was the distinctive feature of all structures of the middle ages; and among these ruins we observed no fewer than four distinct styles of arches; namely, the massive Roman arch with its square sides; the imposing deep splayed Saxon; the pillared and intersected Norman; and last, the early English pointed arch. These differ not only in design, but in the quality of the materials, and in the execution. The chapter-house and abbot's parlour, with the contiguous domestic dwellings of the monks, we consider of much greater antiquity than the church. The stone of which the structure is built, is a "hard pinkish-coloured" sandstone, which is in a good state of preservation. A fine tree that still flourishes in the vicinity of the ruins, is supposed to have been planted seven hundred years ago. The late Earl of Buchan constructed a wire sus It is believed that it was occasioned by a vow, that during the absence of a man to whorn she was attached, she would never look upon the sun. Her lover never returned. He fell during the civil war of 1745-6, and she never more beheld the light of day. In concluding our account of Dryburgh, we should not omit to enumerate some of the "ancient ruins," and storied sites, in the immediate vicinity of this enchanting spot. The stately Melrose, whose “broken arches," and " foliaged tracery," have been so exquisitely portrayed by the Poet's magic pencil,-the magnificent ruins of Jedburgh and Kelso,-Smailholm Castle, the scene of Sir Walter's childhood,— Abbotsford, where he closed his illustrious career,the Vale of Glendearg, with its scenes of "faery,"and the Eildon Hills, from whose three-forked summits, we are told by Scott, that "you may see the scenes of forty-two songs, and ballads, and battles, all of old renown,"-are within the compass of a few days' excursion, and all derive their highest interest from their association with the author of Waverley. GAMBLING IN FRANCE. I HAD the curiosity to look into a gambling-house in the Palais Royal, Paris, in order to enable me to describe the scenes going on; and all of these "hells," it should be observed, are under the protection of the Government. No ceremony was necessary, save that of undergoing the scrutinizing glances of the professional gentlemen, who were exercising their calling, seated round a table, whirling a ball in a kind of hollow dish, and cutting cards. They evidently expected that I would offer to join them; but knowing the excellent proverb in their own language, which says," Ce n'est que le premier pas que coute," I took no notice of their significant looks, but continued a spectator of the scene, without the slightest intention or desire to take part in it. Every stranger who was not content, like myself, to be a mere lookerbut who, instigated by the sight of their tempting gold, seated himself at the table, was sure, I particularly remarked, to be for a short time a winner. After that, the tide, very unaccountably of course, turns against him. He continues to lose faster than he won, and yet continues to play on in fretful desperation, so long as his cash holds out. At length he finds his plus converted into minus, after which he either decamps completely fleeced for that time, or remains to witness the defeat of others. on; houses form no small proportion of those numerous wretches who destroy themselves in Paris. If there be a touch still wanting to this deplorable picture of human folly and depravity combined, it is the truly horrible reflection that such persons are sanctioned and patronized by the Government. More than Vespasian sordidness must be theirs, who basely condescend to derive a profit from them, by legalizing the wholesale iniquity and vice. Some will be disposed to think, that, unless it were in the power of the Government to put down gambling altogether, which is of course impossible, it may as well turn to its own advantage the evil it cannot suppress. Miserable, detestable policy! If laws cannot entirely remove the evil, they may do much towards checking it, at least they ought to attempt it. A government cannot prevent a plague or epidemic, yet there is no reason wherefore it should import infection, or aid the progress of contagion. Were there not one gambling-house, or one victim to gambling, the less, on that account, still a government should reject with scorn, even the idea of being accessary, however remotely, to such villany. Connected with gambling is Suicide; and most awful is the catalogue of those who, in the course of each year, destroy themselves, as the sole remedy for that misery in which they have involved themselves, thereby literally exemplifying the text, "The wages of sin is death." Utterly devoid of every kind of religious feeling, unchecked by the slightest moral restraint, detesting the world that renounces them, and utterly abhorring themselves, already feeling all the pangs of hell itself in their bosoms, what wonder is it, I would ask, if, in their desperation, they give themselves up to utter perdition, defy that great Almighty Being who made them, and, rushing headlong on their final destruction, take the fatal " leap in the dark?" Truly may these most unhappy men be said to "Curse God and die !" [From WILLIAM RAE WILSON'S Route through France.] REFLECTIONS ON QUITTING A CONVENT. As I mounted my horse to quit the convent, the last beams of the sun were setting, and the forest-trees cast their lengthened shadows along the ground. A cross, the em blem of peace, was placed on a pedestal before the door. The beauty and seclusion of the spot appeared to have tranquil happiness; but the misjudging piety of man had marked it out as peculiarly fitted for the enjoyment of robbed him of those temperate pleasures which nature had so lavishly prepared for his gratification. The oak and fern reminded me of the deep glades of England, and the majestic cypress of Portugal, with its waving branches, impressed the scene with a character of Oriental grace yet, even on such a calm and heavenly evening, the monks Most unquestionably it is most iniquitous in any government to countenance such a vile and unprincipled traffic, alas! the source of so much real private misery and wretchedness, and of such widely-spreading demoralisation; yet one feels quite as much contempt as pity for the besotted dupes of such barefaced villainy. After all that has been said on the subject, and those exposures made in regard to the system itself, every man of common sense must surely have his eyes open to the consequences; no one, therefore, who is not an unprincipled knave, or a consummate fool, would sit down to a gamblingtable. Aye, but say they who apologize for vice, the pursuit is so alluring and fascinating, that the victim is entrapped before he is aware of it. Now this is only an additional reason for eschewing it altogether, with the determination of not suffering even a little curiosity to induce us to make a single experiment. The man who considers whether he shall try his luck at the gambling-table, is lost inevitably. If not ruined in purse, why they become sharpers by profession, monsters hardened in iniquity, bankrupts in character, abandoned in principle, the most corrupt of the corrupt, of the abject the most abject; in fact, it requires the heart of a demon to witness the horrible scenes that occur in these dens or sinks of vice. I shall never forget one mean-attired wretch, who, like others, was at first successful, but, afterwards, losing his gains, became so exasperated, that he threw down Double Napoleons to a great amount; these just shared the fate of the rest, on which was seized with a perfect agony of despair; he stamped his feet, tore his hair, clenched his hands, groaned, and the horrors he thus acted were rendered more thrilling by the fiend-like imperturbability of the human monsters who had plundered him. Their countenances exhibited not the slightest emotion; it was their vocation, and, to do them justice, they appeared most perfectly fitted for it. After witnessing such a display, no one, I think, who was not actually a candidate for Bedlam, would suffer himself to take the chance of being reduced to a similar condition. In such cases, remonstrances are absolutely worse than vain, nor does the victim attempt it; the only intelligible remark he suffers to escape him is,-" Demain la Morgue;" indeed, the frequenters of gambling-gaged.-BLACKSTONE. were not allowed to walk beneath the shade of their foresttrees: so active and ingenious were the founders of this convent in devising methods to heighten the privations of its inmates, as if the common course of human passions and anxieties did not render the cup which all must drink sufficiently bitter, without perverting the plainest dictates of common sense to render it still more unpalatable. [Portugal and Gallicia, by an English Nobleman.] YOUTH beholds happiness gleaming in the prospect. Age looks back on the happiness of youth; and, instead of hopes, seeks its enjoyment in the recollections of hopes.COLERIDGE THERE is an active principle in the human soul, that will ever be exerting its faculties to the utmost stretch, in whatever employment, by the accidents of time and place, the general plan of education, or the customs and manners of the age and country, it may happen to find itself en |