No, not from those who, at the chase,
Once held his side the honoured place,
Begirt his board, and, in the field,
Found safety underneath his shield;
For he, whom royal eyes disown,
When was his form to courtiers known!

The Monarch saw the gambols flag,
And bade let loose a gallant stag,
Whose pride, the holiday to crown,
Two favourite grey-hounds should pull down,
That venison free, and Bordeaux wine,
Might serve the archery to dine.

But Lufra,-whom from Douglas' side
Nor bribe nor threat could e'er divide,
The fleetest hound in all the North,-
Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth.
She left the royal hounds mid-way,
And, dashing on the antler'd prey,
Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank,
And deep the flowing life-blood drank.
The King's stout huntsman saw the sport
By strange intruder broken short.
Came up, and with his leash unbound,
In anger struck the noble hound.

-The Douglas had endured, that morn,
The King's cold look, the nobles' scorn,
And last, and worst to spirit proud,
Had borne the pity of the crowd;
But Lufra had been fondly bred,
To share his board, to watch his bed,
And oft would Ellen, Lufra's neck,
In maiden glee, with garlands deck;
They were such playmates, that with name
Of Lufra, Ellen's image came.
His stifled wrath is brimming high,
In darkened brow and flashing eye;
As waves before the bark divide,
The crowd gave way before his stride;
Needs but a buffet and no more,

The groom lies senseless in his gore.
Such blow no other hand could deal,
Though gauntleted in glove of steel.

Then clamoured loud the royal train,
And brandished swords and staves amain.
But stern the Baron's warning—“ Back!
Back on your lives, ye menial pack!
Beware the Douglas."—" Yes! behold,
King James, the Douglas, doomed of old,
And vainly sought for near and far,
A victim to atone the war,

A willing victim now attends,

Nor craves thy grace but for his friends.”"Thus is my clemency repaid,

Presumptuous Lord!" the Monarch said; "Of thy mis-proud ambitious clan,

Thou, James of Bothwell, wert the man,
The only man, in whom a foe

My woman mercy would not know:
But shall a Monarch's presence brook
Injurious blow, and haughty look?
Who ho! the Captain of our Guard!
Give the offender fitting ward.—
Break off the sports!"-for tumult rose,
And yeomen 'gan to bend their bows.-
"Break off the sports!" he said, and frowned,
"And bid our horsemen clear the ground."

Then uproar wild and misarray
Marr'd the fair form of festal day.
The horsemen pricked among the crowd,
Repelled by threats and insult loud;
To earth are borne the old and weak,
The timorous fly, the women shriek;
With flint, with shaft, with staff, with bar,
The hardier urge tumultuous war.
At once round Douglas darkly sweep
The royal spears in circle deep,
And slowly scale the pathway steep;

While on their rear in thunder pour
The rabble with disordered roar.
With grief the noble Douglas saw
The commons rise against the law,
And to the leading soldier said,
"Sir John of Hyndford! 'twas my blade
That knighthood on thy shoulder laid,
For that good deed, permit me then
A word with these misguided men.

"Hear, gentle friends! ere yet, fɔr me,
Ye break the bands of fealty.
My life, my honour, and my cause,
I tender free to Scotland's laws.
Are these so weak as must require
The aid of your misguided ire?
Or, if I suffer causeless wrong,
Is then my selfish rage so strong,
My sense of public weal so low,
That, for mean vengeance on a foe,
Those cords of love I should unbind,
Which knit my country and my kind?
Oh no! Believe, in yonder tower
It will not soothe my captive hour,
To know those spears our foes should dread,
For me in kindred gore are red;
To know in fruitless brawl begun,
For me, that mother wails her son;
For me, that widow's mate expires,
For me, that orphans weep their sires,
That patriots mourn insulted laws,
And curse the Douglas for the cause.
Oh let your patience ward such ill,
And keep your right to love me still!"

The crowd's wild fury sank again
In tears, as tempests melt in rain.
With lifted hands and eyes, they prayed
For blessings on his generous head,
Who for his country felt alone,

And prized her blood beyond his own.
Old men, upon the verge of life,

Blessed him who stayed the civil strife;
And mothers held their babes on high,
The self-devoted chief to spy;
Triumphant over wrong and ire,

To whom the prattlers owed a sire:
Even the rough soldier's heart was moved;
As if behind some bier beloved,

With trailing arms and ärooping head,
The Douglas up the hill he led,

And at the castle's battled verge,

With sighs, resigned his honoured charge.

—Scott's “ Lady of the Lake.”

DEVELOPMENT OF THE INTELLECT.

ADDRESS OF THE LATE EARL OF CARLISLE, DELIVERED AT THE MECHANICS' INSTITUTION, LINCOLN, 1851.

I KNOW that the enemies of Mechanics' Institutes, and of popular institutions generally, have been apt to say that they have a tendency to make the mechanics and working men, whom especially they are intended to benefit, puffed up, presumptuous, conceited, and discontented. All I can say is, that if they do so, they fail singularly in their purpose, and fall far short of their aim. It appears to me that there are two principles upon which we must mainly rely for success in any attempts to raise and regenerate mankind. The one is to have a very high opinion of what we can do, the height to which we can soar, the advance in knowledge and in virtue which we may make,-that is, ambition as concerns our capacities. The other is to have a mean opinion of what we at any time know, or at any time have already done,—that is, humility as concerns our

attainments. The ambition should be ever stirring us up to the even and steady developement of righteous principles, and, where the opportunity presents itself, to the performance of noble, meritorious, and unselfish actions. The humility should ever keep in view that there is no sphere of life, however humble, no round of duties, however unexciting, which any of you may not enrich and elevate with qualities beside which the successes of statesmen and the triumphs of conquerors are but poor and vulgar. I believe there is no eminence to which man may not reach, but he must reach it by subordinating all unlawful impulses, and by subduing all mean ambitions. There is a general craving in the human mind for greatness and distinction. That greatness and distinction, I am thankful to think, is within the reach of any one to obtain; but the greatness and distinction must not be without you, but within you.

I should be sorry to appear to take this opportunity of preaching what might be called a sermon, but I feel so fervid an interest in the welfare and progress of the great body of my countrymen, that I cannot refrain from enjoining them, even while I would invite them to a full enjoyment of all the rich resources and all the innocent pleasures of this our variegated world, never to lose hold of religion. I do not mean that you should necessarily confine it within those stiff and narrow grooves in which some would imprison its ethereal spirit; but I feel assured that it is the source among mankind of all that is large, and of all that is lovely, and that without it all would be dark and joyless. Under her sacred wing you may securely resign yourselves to all that is improving in knowledge, or instructing in science, or captivating in art, or beautiful in nature. The Architect of the Universe, the Author of Being, such as Christianity represents Him, cannot but approve of every creature, that He has made, developing to the utmost extent the faculties He has given him, and examining, in all its depth and mystery, every work of His hand. Shut up the page of knowledge and the sources of enjoyment