Hark! hark! in Freedom's sunbright path And gallant Moore excites the wrath The cuirassiers, with their bright spears, And with bounding heart, the Spaniard hears Your swords, ye English horsemen, sheathe- Its noblest clangor out. Raise, England-raise thy proud hurra! For Liberty shall ne'er decay, While lives the British Drum! Thy note was triumph on the wind, Where Glory her rich laurels twin'd The sword with Freedom in its gleam,- With thee, in unity, shall dwell Thou dauntless British Drum! And when on us life's sun is set, Deal. But oh, from every hill and plain, Our fathers fought with Marlborough, But if those glaives they will not keep,— Oh, then how deep shall be their sleep REGINALD AUGUSTINE. JOHN O'GROAT'S HOUSE. John de Groat's house, a memorable place in the parish of Canisby, in Caithness, perhaps owes its fame less to the circumstance of its local situation at the northern extremity of the island, than to an event which it may not be improper to relate, as it inculcates an useful lesson of morality. In the reign of James IV. of Scotland, three brothers, Malcolm, Gavin, and John de Groat-supposed to have been originally from Holland-arrived in Caithness with a letter from that prince, recommending them to the countenance and protection of his loving subjects in the county of Caithness. These brothers bought some land near Dungisbay Head, and in a short time, by the increase of their families, eight different proprietors of the name of Groat possessed these lands in equal divisions. These eight families, having lived peaceably and comfortably for a number of years, established an annual meeting, to celebrate the anniversary of the arrival of their ancestors on the coast. In the course of the festivity on one of these occasions, a question arose respecting the right of taking the door, the head of the table, and such points of precedency-each contending for the seniority and chieftainship -which increased to such a degree, as would probably have proved fatal in its consequences, had not John de Groat, who appears to have acquired great knowledge of mankind, inter fered. He expatiated on the comforts they had heretofore enjoyed, owing to the harmony which had subsisted between them he assured them that as soon as they appeared to quarrel amongst themselves, their neighbours, who had till then treated them with respect, would fall upon them and expel them the country: he therefore conjured them, by the ties of blood, and their mutual safety, to return quietly to their several homes, and pledged himself that he would satisfy them on all points of precedency, and prevent the possibility of such disputes in future at their anniversary meetings. They all acquiesced, and departed in peace. In due time, John de Groat, to fulfil his engagement, built a room distinct from all other houses, in an octagon figure, with eight doors, and placed a table of oak of the same shape, in the middle; when the next meeting took place, he desired each of them to enter by his own door, and to sit at the end of the table, he himself occupying the last. By this ingenious contrivance, the harmony and good humor of the company were restored. The building was then named John de Groat's house, and, though nothing remains but the foundation of the building, the place still retains the name, and deserves to be remembered for the good intention and sound judgment which gave it origin. HELL BRIDGE. There is a narrow pass between the mountains in the neighbourhood of Bendearg, in the Highlands of Scotland, which, at a little distance, has the appearance of an immense artificial bridge thrown over a tremendous chasm; but, on nearer approach, is seen to be a wall of nature's own masonry, formed of vast and rugged bodies of solid rock, piled on each other, as if in the giant sport of the architect. Its sides are in some places covered with trees of considerable size, and the passenger, who has a head steady enough to look down the precipice, may see the eyrie of birds of prey beneath his feet. The path across is so narrow, that it cannot admit of persons passing; and, indeed, none but natives would attempt the dangerous route, though it saves a circuit of three miles; yet it sometimes happens that two travellers meet, owing to the curve formed by the pass preventing a view across from either side; and when as is the case, one lies down, while the other crawls over his body. One day, a Highlander waking along the pass, when he had gained the guest part of the aren, observed another coming leisurely up, and, being himself one of the patrician order, called him to lie down. The person, however, disregarded the command, and the Highlanders met on the sunmit; they were Cairn and Bendearg, of two families in enmity with each other. "I was first at the top," said Bendearg," and called out first; lay down, that I may pass over in peace." "When the Grant prostrates himself before the M Pherson," answered the other," it must be with a sword driven through his body," "Turn back then," said Bendearg," and repass as you came." “Go back yourself, if you like it,” replied Grant; “I will not be the first of my name to turn before the M'Pherson." They then threw their bonnets over the precipice, and advanced with a slow and cautious pace closer to each other ;they were both unarmed. Stretching their limbs, like men preparing for a desperate struggle, they planted their feet firmly on the ground, compressed their lips, knit their dark eye-brows, and fixing fierce and woeful eyes upon each other, stood prepared for the onset. They both grappled at the same moment; but, being of equal strength, were unable for some time to shift each other's position-standing fixed on the rock, with suppressed breath, and muscles strained to "the top of their bent," like statues carved out of solid stone. At length M'Pherson, suddenly removing his right foot so as to give him greater purchase, stooped his body and bent his enemy down with him by main strength, till they both leaned over the precipice, looking downward into the terrible abyss. The contest was as yet doubtful, for Grant had placed his foot firmly on the elevation at the brink, and had equal command of his enemy; but at this moment M'Pherson sunk slowly and firmly on his knee, and while Grant suddenly started, back, stooping to take the supposed advantage, whirled him over his head into the gulf. M'Pherson himself fell backwards, his body partly hanging over the rock; a fragment gave way beneath him, and he sunk further, till, catching with desperate effort at the solid stone above, he regained his footing. There was a pause of death-like stillness: the bold heart of M'Pherson felt sick and faint. At length, as if compelled unwillingly by some mysterious feeling, he looked down over the precipice. Grant had caught with a death-gripe by the ragged point of a rock; his enemy was almost within his reachHis face was turned upward, and there was in it horror and despair; but he uttered no word or cry. The next moment he loosed his hold, and his brains were dashed out before the eyes of his hereditary foe: the mangled body disappeared among the trees, his last heavy and hollow sound arose from the bottom. M'Pherson returned home an altered man. He purchased a commission in the army, and fell in the wars in the penin sula. The Gælic name of the place where this tragedy was acted signifies Hell Bridge. FRAGMENTS. Disjectaque membra. * In my hearts flush of passion I have sung Perhaps unworthy they of any praise, Perhaps in vain my too rude lyre hath spoken, Before my soul was dull'd, or lyre was broken, And woke her slumbers with these songs of mine. |