veins, and "Oh," muttered he in bitterness, "had my Thomas been spared to me, he would have thrown his heart's blood after the hammer before he would hae been beat by ever a Johnson in the country." While he thus soliloquized, and with difficulty restrained an impulse to compete with the victor himself, a dark foreign-looking, strong-built seaman unceremoniously approached, and, with his arms folded, cast a look of contempt upon the boasting conqueror. Every eye was turned with a scrutinizing glance upon the stranger. In height he could not exceed five feet nine, but his whole frame was the model of muscular strength; his features were open and manly, but deeply sun-burnt and weather-beaten; his long, glossy black hair, curled into ringlets by the breeze and the billow, fell thickly over his temples and forehead, and a pair of whiskers of a similar hue, more conspicuous for size than elegance, meeting carelessly beneath his chin, gave a character of fierceness to a countenance otherwise possessing a striking impress of manly beauty. Without asking permission he stepped forward, lifted the hammer, and swinging it around his head, hurled it upwards of five yards beyond Johnson's most successful throw. "Well done!" shouted the astonished spectators. The heart of Peter Elliott warmed within him, and he was hurrying forward to grasp the stranger by the hand, when the words groaned in his throat, "It was just such a throw as my Thomas would have made! My own lost Thomas!" The tears burst into his eyes, and, without speaking, he turned back and hurried towards the house to conceal his emotion.

Successively at every game the stranger had defeated all who ventured to oppose him, when a messenger announced that dinner waited their arrival. Some of the guests were already seated, others entering; and, as heretofore, placed beside Mrs. Elliott, was Elizabeth Bell, still in the noontide of her beauty; but sorrow had passed over her features, like a veil before the countenance of an angel, and the fair bud, which promised to burst forth as the pride of the rose in the glory of a summer sun, had expanded like a lily in the wilderness, that blossoms beneath the moon-beams by a lonely lake. Johnson, crest-fallen and out of humour at his defeat, seated himself by her side. In early life, he had regarded Thomas Elliott as a rival for her affections, and stimulated by the knowledge that Adam Bell would be able to bestow several thousands upon his daughter for a dowry, he yet prosecuted his attentions with unabated assiduity, in despite of the daughter's aversion, and the coldness of her father. Peter had taken his place at the table, and still by his side, unoccupied and sacred, appeared the vacant chair!—the chair of his firstborn, whereon none had sat since his mysterious death or disappear

ance.

"Bairns!" said he, "did none o' ye ask the sailor to come up, and take a bit o' denner wi' us?"

"We were afraid it might lead to a quarrel with Mr. Johnson," whispered one of the sons.

"He is come without asking," replied the stranger entering, "and the wind shall blow from a new point if I destroy the mirth or happiness of the company."

"Ye are a stranger, young man," said Peter, "or ye would ken

this is nae meeting o' mirth-makers. But I assure ye, ye are welcome, heartily welcome; haste ye, lassies," he added to the servants, "some of ye get a chair for the gentleman."

"Gentleman indeed!" muttered Johnson between his teeth.

"Never mind about a chair, my hearties," said the seaman, "this will do;" and before Peter could speak to withhold him, he had thrown himself carelessly into the hallowed-the venerated-the twelve years unoccupied! The spirit of sacrilege uttering blasphemies from a pulpit could not have smitten a congregation of pious worshippers with deeper horror and consternation, than did this filling of the vacant chair the inhabitants of Marchlaw.

"Excuse me, Sir! Excuse me, Sir," said Peter, the words trem. bling upon his tongue, "but ye cannot-ye cannot sit there!"

"O man! man!" cried Mrs. Elliott, "get out o' that!-get out o' that! take my chair, or take ony chair in the house, but dinna, dinna sit there. It has never been sat in by mortal being since the death o' my dear bairn!-and to see it filled by another is a thing I cannot endure."

"Sir! Sir!" continued the father, "ye have done it through ignorance, and we excuse ye-but that was my Thomas's seat. Twelve years this very day-his birth-day!-he perished, heaven kens how, He went out from our sight, like the cloud that passes owre the hills, never, never to return; and oh! Sir, spare a faither's feelings, for to see that seat filled wrings the blood from my heart!"

"Give me your hand, my worthy soul," exclaimed the seaman. "I revere, nay, hang it, I would die for your feelings-but Tom Elliott was my friend, and I cast anchor in this chair by special commission-I know that a sudden broadside of joy is a bad thing, but as I don't know how to preach a sermon before telling you-all I have to say is that Tom an't dead!

"Not dead!" said Peter, grasping the hand of the stranger, and speaking with an eagerness that almost choked his utterance-"O Sir! Sir! tell me how?-how?-Did ye say living? Is my ain Thomas living?"

"Not dead! do ye say!" cried Mrs. Elliott, hurrying_towards him, and also grasping his hand-"Not dead! and shall I see my bairn again! Oh! may the blessing o' heaven, and the blessing o' a broken-hearted mother, be upon the bearer o' the gracious tidings. But tell me tell me how is it possible! As ye would expect happiness here or hereafter, dinna, dinna deceive me!"

"Deceive you!" returned the stranger, grasping with impassioned earnestness their hands in his ; "Never! never! and all I can say is, Tom Elliott is alive and hearty."

"No! no!" said Elizabeth, rising from her seat, "he does not deceive us, there is that in his countenance which bespeaks a falsehood impossible!" and she also endeavoured to move towards him, when Johnson threw his arm around her waist to withhold her.

"Hands off, you land lubber!" exclaimed the seaman, springing towards them; " or shiver me I'll shew day-light through your timbers in the turning of a handspike!" and clasping the lovely girl in his arms-"Blow me, Betty, my love," he cried, " don't you know your own Tom? Father! Mother! don't you know me? have you

really forgot your own son? If twelve years have wrought some change upon his face, his heart is sound as ever."

His father, his mother, and his brethren clung around him weeping, smiling, and mingling a hundred questions together. He threw his arms around the neck of each, and in answer to their enquiries replied, “Well, well, there is time enough to answer questions-but not to-day-not to-day"

"No, my bairn! my bairn," said his mother, "we'll ask you nae questions, nobody shall ask ye ony. But how-how were ye torn away from us, my love? and oh hinny, where, where have ye been ?"

In

"It is a long story, mother," said he, "and would take a week to tell it, but howsoever to make a long story short, you remember when the smugglers were pursued, and wished to conceal their brandy in our house, my father prevented them-they left muttering revenge -and they have been revenged. This day twelve years, I went out with the intention of meeting Elizabeth and her father, when I came upon a party of the gang concealed in the king's cave. a moment, half a dozen pistols were held to my breast, and, tying my arms to my sides, they dragged me into the cavern. Here I had not been long their prisoner, when the snow, hurling down the mountains, almost totally blocked up its mouth. On the second night, they cut through the snow, and hurrying me along with them, I was bound to a horse between two, and before day-light found myself stowed like a piece of old junk into the hold of a smuggling lugger; within a week I was shipped on board a Dutch man-of-war-and for six years was kept dogging about on different stations, till our old yawing hulk received orders to join the fleet which fought against the gallant Duncan at Camperdown. To think of fighting against my own countrymen-my own flesh and blood, was worse than to be cut to pieces by a cat o' nine-tails. And under cover of the smoke of the first broadside, I sprang upon the gunwale, plunged into the sea, and swam for the English fleet. Blow me, I never shall forget the moment that my feet first trode upon the deck of a British Frigate-my nerves felt as firm as her oak, and my heart free as the pennant that waved defiance from the mast head. I was as active as any one during the battle, and when it was over, and I found myself again amongst my own countrymen, and all speaking my own language I fancied-nay, hang it, I almost believed I should meet my father, my mother, or my dear Bess, on board of the British Frigate. I expected to see you all again in a few weeks at farthest, but instead of returning to old England, before I was aware, I found it was helm about with us. As to writing, I never had an opportunity but once. We were anchored before a French fort-a packet was lying alongside ready to sail-I had half a side written, and was scratching my head to think how I should come over writing about you Bess, my love, when, as bad luck would have it, our lieutenant comes to me, and, says he, "Elliott! I know you like a little smart service, come, my lad, take the head oar, while we board some of those French bumboats under the batteries." I couldn't say no-we pulled ashore, made a bonfire of one of their craft, and was setting fire to a second, when a deadly shower of small shot from the garrison skuttled our boat, killed our commanding officer, with half of the crew,

It is no use

and the few who were left of us were made prisoners. bothering you by telling how we escaped from French prison-we did escape and Tom will once more fill his vacant chair."

Should any of our readers wish farther acquaintance with our friends, all we can say is, the new year was still young when Adam Bell bestowed his daughter's hand upon the heir of Marchlaw, and Peter beheld the once Vacant Chair again occupied, while a namesake of the third generation prattled on his knee.

LIFE LIKENESSES.

BY THE REV. W. M. HETHERINGTON, A. M.

AUTHOR OF

"DRAMATIC SKETCHES, FOUNDED ON THE PASTORAL
POETRY OF SCOTLAND."

I STOOD and eyed a rushing stream
Speeding, like some uncertain dream
Away, we know not where;

I mark'd gay foam-bells start in pride,
And glitteringly across it glide

Light things of fleeting air

A breath play'd on the streamlet's face,
They perish'd in their whirling race.

Deep in a shaded mossy dell
A fountain rose with gentle swell
And mirrored crystal sheen

Silent o'er its tranquillity

I bent a face smiled back on me,

;

Where care had seldom been;
Peace smooth'd its infant brow, its eye
Beamed meekly with untroubled joy:

I thought on my own days of youth,
When mine were Innocence and Truth,
And Hopes around me smiled;—
I sighed the fountain-mirror shook,
And changed was that bright vision's look,
Its features writhed and wild,—
By turns Grief, Misery, Despair,
Darkening like autumn-cloud were there.

I stood upon the ocean's shore;
Waveless it lay, hush'd was its roar,-
As some fair child may be

When the faint feelings of a dream
Spread o'er its cheek a smiling gleam—
So slept that silent sea:

The storm-voice on its slumbers broke-
The wild, the terrible awoke.

"Twas midnight; on the deep blue sky
I gaz'd,--no cloud-speck met mine eye,
Veiling the feeblest star;
Queen-like amid her radiant train
The bright Moon o'er her wide domain
Was journeying afar;

But tempest-gloom came rolling forth
Black-bursting from the turbid North.

Even such is Life's strange fitful dream,-
A foam-bell on a rushing stream;

A fountain's placid form;

The calm smiles of the treacherous sea;
The night-heaven's still solemnity

Ere wakes the maddening storm;

Hope's meteor lures, bursts, leaves our path
Beset with fears, and woes, and death.

OBSERVATIONS ON GOVERNMENT.

"To make a Government," says Burke, "requires no great prudence. Settle the seat of power; teach obedience; and the work is done. To give freedom is still more easy. It is not necessary to guide; it only requires to let go the rein. But to form a free government, that is, to temper together these opposite elements of liberty and restraint in one consistent work, requires much thought, deep reflection, a sagacious and combining mind,"-or in other words, a free government is one founded by reason, and not by oppression.How, then, is it, we are asked, that there are so few people ruled by the former, and so many by the latter? We reply to this question by referring to the arts and sciences as bearing a strong analogy to government: the rise and progress to their present stage of perfection has been slow, very slow, and all from a want of the knowledge of the primary principles upon which they are founded. In like manner whole myriads of our fellow-creatures have lived in a state of degradation and slavery, and this from ignorance of their own rights and powers. Let us, then, before crossing the threshold of our subject, enquire and ascertain what "the rights of man" consist in. These rights are divided into two kinds-natural and civil. And first, as to the natural rights of mankind-From the various accounts of the creation, whether we search the most fabulous, or that which possesses the highest authority, the Bible; we may gather this important fact, that the only distinction in our race, therein implied, is that of sex-and this is further corroborated, if corroboration it need, by the circumstance that in all the religious creeds which have existed since the beginning of time, the principle of the equality-or to quote the words of J. J. Rousseau-" the unity of man" pervades them all. This, therefore, being the case, all men originally must have had an equal title to all the property, as it is now called, at that time in