about an hour had thus elapsed, when with a grim smile as if ridiculing the very possibility of my escaping, he threw himself into a chair, placed his musket within his reach, and calling for more wine, drunk to me in terms too horrible to mention. Martina, as if some mysterious communication of our souls had pointed out the very course I wished her to adopt, in passing behind the chair upon which I was bound, to replace the jar containing the wine, stumbled and fellin the noise which the breaking of the jar caused, I could feel, but not hear, the sharp click of the knife which freed my legs— a curse from the soldier at her stupidity was all the remark called forth; in repassing the same friendly hand, the same kind knife severed the cord which bound my arms, but the sound reached the Chapelchurie. Suspicion roused, he sprang up, stretching out his arm to seize his musket,—like lightning I was on my feet,-the pistol in my hand, and before he could raise his firelock, my bullet, with unerring force had pierced his brain; I saw him fall against the frail balcony, which crashed beneath his weight-heard the alarm of the sentry below for a second clasped Martina to my heart, and then dashing open the door at the back, sprang forth-alas! with such impetus, as to prevent the slightest endeavour on my part to avoid a well directed lunge from the bayonet of a sentry, that I had hoped had never been planted. The three-edged steel grated between my ribs, and so vigorous was the thrust, so great the force with which I had rushed out, that I next felt the point of the bayonet passing out at my back, and the muzzle of the gun strike with stunning force against my breast-my head swam-pain seemed to cease-I thought I heard the discharge of several muskets-and then fell senseless to the earth. Do I dream. How is it that I am again in my own quiet room— what has happened to me?-this weakness-Ah! there is the step of one who will explain all-Martina! A long period elapsed before I was strong enough even to hear the story of my miraculous escape. Intelligence had reached the army, that the enemy was again collecting in some force around Passages. A regiment was detached, and after some days reached San Sebastian late at night, when, in consequence of some of the Paysannos conveying intelligence into the town, of a 'party of Chapelchuries having been seen near La Herrera, a couple of companies were despatched to see if they could surprise them. This they did effectually, and it was the report of their muskets which sounded in my ears, as I fell. The sentry was too much occupied providing for his own safety, to repeat the thrust, which I dare say he had thought perfectly effective. Conveyed to bed, medical assistance was instantly summoned for me. I was long insensible, but at last slowly and by degrees recovered. But the "Medico" often assured me, that all his skill would have been in vain, had it not been backed by the unceasing attendance, the never-failing attention of my kind Martina. K. S. F. THE GLASGOW UNIVERSITY ALBUM. THE "University Album" for 1840, has at length appeared. It came into our hands under circumstances which tended in no slight degree, to test its merits. Our expectations had been considerably raised with regard to it. Its approach had been announced with a flourish of trumpets so loud and full; such an array of nobility had honoured the volume with their patronage, even royalty itself had smiled upon the undertaking, that we were on the very tip-toe of expectation to see whether the Alumni of the University could produce a volume worthy of such distinguished patronage and which would fully realize the promises which had been made. Nor were we indifferent to the result. We felt that the fair fame of our Alma Mater was involved in it, and were consequently anxious that there should be no disappointment; no failure. Such a state of mind was not the most favourable for enabling us to treat the volume with any thing like leniency. It affords us, therefore, very considerable pleasure to acknowledge that we at least have not been disappointed, and that our anxieties are now entirely dissipated. It would of course ill become us to speak in any thing like exaggerated praise of the University with which we are connected. We may however be permitted to say that it occupies no mean place among the Universities of our land and sure are we, that the Album for the present Session will not tarnish aught of the fame which this seat of learning has already acquired. The first feature of the work which attracted our notice, was the typography. This, we do not hesitate to say, is of the first order; nor should we in the least degree o'erstep the bounds of sober truth were we to assert that its superior never emanated from the Glasgow Press. It is beautiful both as a specimen of art and a work of taste. Passing now to its literary contents we could, did our space permit, present our readers with such extracts as would at once convince them of the truth of all that we have written in reference to the general character of the work. There is something to suit every variety of taste. For the lover of stirring incident and wild romance, we have "Philip Van Artevelde, a leaf from the middle ages;". "Winona, a tale of the Cherokees," and the "Enthusiast." For the old Alumni of of the University who yet cherish a fond remembrance of the scenes and feelings with which they were once familiar, we have "A Legend of Glasgow College.." For the lover of Grecian literature whose sympathies are with the mighty men whose productions have given to antiquity a fascinating charm, we have "Remarks on the Clouds of Aristophanes," distinguished for good scholarship and accurate criticism. For the patron of the fine arts we have "Thoughts on Landscape Painting," which mark a cultivated taste and a mind capable of enjoying the exquisite beauties which are scattered with so prodigal a hand throughout the whole of nature; and also, "Considerations suggested by the two great Barytones of Mozart, the Count and Don Giovanni," written by one who is evidently a passionate lover of music and anxious to communicate a portion of his own enthusiasm to others. For the admirer of the fair sex, we have "Sketches of Female Beauty," from the pen of one whose homage at the shrine of Beauty must have been frequent and profound. Nor must we forget to mention the "Notes from the Dairy of a Mank's Clergyman," which though they may not perhaps afford pleasure to any one taste in particular, will be approved by all. Of the Poetry we might say in general that it is far above mediocrity: but with regard to many pieces this would be decidedly unjust We could point out not a few which are deserving of the highest praise, and which may take their places beside the productions of some of our best poets. This in the present day is no mean commendation, but it is one which we give with the fullest conviction that it is well merited. In this department we cannot allow to pass without notice, a piece from the pen of the Rev. R. Montgomery. Considering the severe censures which have passed upon this gentleman, in the "Peel Club Papers," we should fail in doing an act of justice did we not record our conviction that the piece in the University Album entitled "The Minister's Funeral," has high poetic merit. The subject of it is the late Dr. Burns of the Barony Parish, and it will be read with pleasure by all who knew that venerable man, but especially by relatives and friends," to whom the piece is inscribed. "the In order to give our readers some idea of the poetry of the volume we shall present them with two extracts which may be regarded as air specimens of the entire work. The first is said to be from the pen of of a distinguished Professor in our University. It is as follows: LEGENDARY BALLAD. THE balefires blaze-the bugles call- From hill and dale, from hut and hall, He's donn'd his targe, he's slung his bow, "O go not forth, my lord, my life! O go not forth I pray ; Thy clansmen true will staunch the strife, O go not forth to-day! "Last night, a fearful dream I dreamed: "Its goodly boughs, its foliage fair, Its rough trunk's stately swell, All blasted by the flame, and bare, A crumbling mass it fell! "Then go not forth, my lord! my life! O go not forth I pray ; Thy clansmen true will staunch the strife, O go not forth to-day! "Last night, as by yon turret high I stood, a blazing ball Shot sudden down the starless sky, Seemed on these towers to fall. "And downward dashed with shivering shock, At midnight's hour amain, A fragment from the Dead-man's-rock, "With sudden swell, Teith's boding wave In-isles St. Maho's mead Ne'er failed that sign when chieftain brave "Last night, adown the moonless dale The fatal lights with lustre pale, "And slowly o'er the twilight heath, By gifted eye were seen, With wail and woe, the train of death, A warrior's corse between. "Then go not forth, my lord! my life! O go not forth I pray ; Thy clansmen true will staunch the strife, O go not forth to-day!" He's donn'd his targe-he's slung his bow He's grasped his massy glaive; His bride-one kiss-"I needs must go To join my clansmen brave.” With straining eye, with throbbing breast, High from the castle-wall, She's watched the East, she's watched the West From morn till even-fall. |