ration, no sooner beheld Maria Antoinette seated on the throne, than he conceived himself likely to meet with some disgrace, and resolved to prevent it; for which purpose, he directly gave in his resignation to the Prince of Beauveau, captain of the Guards, at the same time frankly giving him his reasons for so painful a procedure on his part, adding that he should greatly regret being under the necessity of quitting the king's service; but if his majesty would be pleased to employ him in some other way, he should be very happy. The captain of the Guards perceiving the distress of the major's mind, and well acquainted with his merits, took upon himself to present his resignation to the king; but previously waiting upon the queen, he represented to her the affliction with which the Marquis of Pontécoulant was overwhelmed, recounted the usefulness and number of his former services, and then concluded by asking what order she would be pleased to give with respect to what was to be done with the resignation. The sight alone of the Prince of Beauveau was sufficient to excite generosity in the heart of another, and that of Maria Antoinette already fostered the principle in its fullest influence. "The queen,' said she," remembers not the quarrels of the dauphiness, and I now request that the marquis of Pontécoulant will no longer recollect what I have blotted from my memory."

WART-HILL OF HOY.

Around their hoary prince, from wat'ry beds,
His subject islands raise thetr verdant heads;
The waves so gently wash each rising hill,
The land seems floating, and the ocean still."

GARTH.

We now directed our steps to the Wart-hill of Hoy, the summit of which is the pinnacle of Orkney, being about 1600 feet above the level of the sea. As we approached the top, we found the ground covered with the trailing shoots of Arbutus Alpina, or mountain strawberry-tree. A thick chilly mist here enveloped us, and hid all nature from our view. As the day had been hitherto clear, and was rather windy, we trusted that we were only overtaken by a cloud which had been attracted by the heights. Our conjecture was right. In about ten minutes the mists became thinner: sea and land began to appear below: as the cloud passed off, they seemed to emerge, as it were, from a chaos, and we were almost tempted to think that we were witnesses of a kind of creation. The sun was still shining bright on the adjacent scattered islands, and had continued to do so while we were wrapped in the cloud. The prospect from this point is truly extensive. One may almost fancy that he is looking down on a vast expanded map of the Orkney islands. In the distance on the south, are seen the high mountains of Caithness and Sutherland. Towards the north-west, the

eye is lost on the boundless Atlantic; but it is agreeably relieved by white sails ever and anon appearing on the verge of the horizon, and making towards the high land of Hoy, which is one of the earliest land-marks of the mariner in approaching from the north-west.

A VALENTINE.

WERT thou an artless village maid,
And I an humble rustic swain,
To share with thee the humble glade,
Would rapture be to pow'r or gain.

Beyond the broad Atlantic wave,

Blest should I be with thee to rove;
To decorate our simple cave,

And taste the sweets of mutual love:

Or were the whole of India mine,.
Circassian beauties all my own ;
Didst thou among the number shine,

Thy charms alone should grace my throne..

Of valour were those charms the prize,
The fear of death would I defy;

Approved only in thine eyes,

Would live for thee, or for thee die.

REFLECTIONS.

"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time."

SHAKSPEARE'S MACBETH,

Ah! who has pow'r to say,
To-morrow's sun shall warmer glow,
And o'er this gloomy vale of woe
Diffuse a brighter ray ?

Ah! who is ever sure,
Though all that can the soul delight
This hour enchants the wond'ring sight.
These raptures will endure?

Is there in life's dull toil, One moment certain of repose, One ray to dissipate our woes, And bid reflection smile?

What is the mind of man?

A chaos where the passions blend,
Unconscious where the mass will end,.
Or when it first began!

In childhood's thoughtless hours, We frolic through the sportive day; Each path enchanting, sunny, gay, All deck'd with gaudy flow'rs.

In life's maturer prime We wander still in search of peace; And, as our weary toils increase,

Fade in the glooms of time.

From scene to scene we stray, Still courting Pleasure's fickle smile, Which tho', delighting to beguile, Still farther glides away,

We seek Hope's gentle aid, We think the lovely phantom pours Her balmy incense on those flowr's, Which blossom but to fade!

We court love's thrilling dart, And when we think our joys supreme, We find its raptures but a dream— Its boon, a wounded heart!

We pant for glittering fame,

And when pale envy blots the page

That might have charm'd a future age, We find 'tis but a name.

We toil for paltry óre, And when we gain the golden prize, And death appears!-with aching eyesWe view the useless store.