red-cheeked lasses." Some one asked if she was a gipsy? She seemed quite indignant, and replied, "Na, na, she was born in haly marriage, and bapteezed in haly kirk.”

The fragments of the "Lament" were literally stolen from this mourner. A gentleman attempted to write from her singing; but she wept bitterly at the idea of "giving away," as she termed it, "the last remains of her dear." The gentleman engaged some friends to prevail with "Jamie's lassie," the only name she gave herself, to sing his "Lament;" and he kept behind her, and with his pencil transcribed the following verses.

"I've spent my life in rioting,

Debauch'd my health and strength,
I squander'd fast as pillage came,
And fell to shame at length.

To hang upon a tree, a tree,
Accurs'd, disgraceful death,
Like a vile dog hung up to be,
And stifled in the breath.

My father was a gentleman,
Of fame and honour high;
Oh mother, wou'd you ne'er had borne
The son so doom'd to die!

The Laird of Grant, with pow'r aboon

The Royal Majesty,

Pass'd his great word for Peter Brown,

And let Macpherson die.

But Braco Duff, with rage enough,

First laid a snare for me,

And if that death did not prevent,
Aveng'd I well could be.

But vengeance I did never wreak,
When power was in my hand,
And you, dear friends, no vengeance seek,
It is my last command.

Forgive the man whose rage betray'd

Macpherson's worthless life:

When I am gone, be it not said,

My legacy was strife.

And ye that blame with cruel scorn
The wand'ring gipsy's ways,
Oh think if homeless, houseless born,
Ye could spend better days!

If all the wealth on land or sea
Before my eyes were spread,
I'd give them all this hour to be
On the soldier's dying bed.

Though cut and hack'd in every limb,

And chok'd with heaps of slain,

Glory and fame should be my theme,
To soften every pain.

My father was a gentleman,

Of fame and lineage high;

Oh place me in the field like him—
Like him to fight and die!"

SANTIEUL.

SANTIEUL, the French poet, returning one night to Saint Victoire at eleven o'clock, the porter refused opening the door, saying he had positive orders to admit no one at that hour.

After much altercation, Santieul slipt half a louis d'or under the door, and he obtained immediate entrance. As soon as he had got in, he pretended he had left a book upon a stone on the outside, on which he had rested himself while he waited for the door opening. The officious porter, animated with the poet's generosity, ran to get the book, and Santieul immediately shut the door upon him. Master porter, who was half naked, knocked in turn, when the poet started the same difficulty as he had done. "Aye, but, Master Santieul," said the porter, "you know I let you in, very civilly."-Said Santieul, "So will I you as

civilly:-you know the price :-in or out is the word, and I can dally no longer." The porter, finding he was to sleep in the street, half naked, and run the risk of losing his place, slipt the piece of gold under the door, saying, "I thought a poet's money would not stay long with me;" and thus purchased his admittance.

JAMES II. AND WALLER.

JAMES, notwithstanding the bigotry and gloominess of his character, affected to be an admirer of Waller. He one day ordered the Earl of Sunderland to command Waller to wait on him in the afternoon.

When Waller came, the King took him into his closet. During their conversation, his Majesty asked, how he liked the picture that hung there? "Sir," said Waller, "my eyes are so dim that I cannot see it."- "It is the Princess of Orange," said the King." And the Princess of Orange," replied the poet, "is like the greatest woman that ever the world saw." -"Pray, who was she?"-"Queen Elizabeth," replied Waller.-"I am surprised," said the King, "that you should think so; but, I must own, she had a wise council."-" And did your

Majesty," rejoined Waller, “ever know a fool choose a wise council?"

When Waller intended to marry one of his daughters to Dr. Birch, the King endeavoured to prevent the match, and ordered a French nobleman to tell him, that his Majesty wondered he should marry his daughter to a falling church. "Sir," answered Waller, "the King does me great honour, to take notice of my domestic affairs; but I have lived long enough to observe, that this falling church has a trick of rising again."

Waller told his friends, that King James would be left like a whale upon the strand: which soon after happened; for having deserted himself, and his true interest,-the love of his people, he was forsaken by all, even his own children.

THOMAS MIDDLETON, THE DRAMATIC POET.

THIS writer having produced his satirical play of the "Game of Chess," the oblique reflections it contained against the Church of Rome occasioned the Spanish faction to get it suppressed, by order of King James the First, and, by the influence of his Queen, the poet himself