of self-control, but he told stories, cracked jokes, and sang songs, till all was blue again. One of the latter I recollect perfectly, and it is a gay old English carrol : "Of all the brave birds that ever I see, The owl is the fairest in every degree ; And what gave you that jolly red nose ?" What cared we, having got into this vein, for provisions, piquet, Mamelukes, Turks, or Colonel Macleod? We laughed, chatted, sang, and roared, like men who knew not anxiety, and might have continued to do so a great deal longer, had I not been all at once made aware that we had not all the mirth to ourselves. I started to my feet in absolute dismay, when twenty or thirty voices joined our chorus "Nose, nose, nose, nose, And what gave you that jolly red nose?" "MacGrab, you rascal!" cried I, "recognising the tones of my hopeful valet among the rest, "where are you? What are you about?" "Cinnamon and ginger, nutmegs and cloves, answered the rogue, with perfect nonchalance, and singing lustily. Vincent hurried off as I desired, while I took the round of his bivouac, where, sure enough, everything presented the appearance of ample courage, plenty of the good things of life, and no lack of the very highest humour. Camp-kettles were boiling everywhere on fires, round which the soldiers were clustered, each with a tin in his hand liberally supplied with grog, and the songs, and jokes, and conversation, as if borrowed from those of their superiors, were all of the most boisterous, albeit nowise unbeseeming. Yet I felt that it was necessary to throw a wet blanket over it; and I did so. The men were too well aware of the nature of their own position, as well as too thoroughly convinced that I would not wantonly interfere with their mirth, not to obey me readily. They restrained their joyous humours, ate their suppers and drank their grog quietly, and then lay down. In a few minutes the stillness was that of the grave. [To be continued.] THE DAYS OF THE VOLUNTEERS. [The late reduction of the Yeomanry, and, we must infer, the prospective annihilation of that useful and constitutional force, would seem to enhance the value of an institution which was called into existence by patriotism, and is about to be extinguished by parsimony. The retrospect drawn in such true and touching terms in the following sketch, although limited to a particular district, may be said to represent the spirit which animated this country from one extremity to the other at the period in question. It also exhibits, in a correct and striking light, the collateral benefits produced by the practical influence of the Volunteer Associations upon society and civilization.-ED.] FREQUENTLY, about the commencement of the present century, the reports of the French having invaded, or being on the eve of invading, this country, resounded through the land, and agitated the people in an unprecedented degree. Not only did these alarms reach persons at the head of affairs, or who possessed the best means of ascertaining their truth, and the magnitude of the threatened danger, but wherever newspapers sped, or hearsay could be wafted, whatever was most dreadful or conjecturable penetrated and was retransmitted with a strength and weight that increased and accumulated at a rate proportioned to the distance at which the parties were placed in relation to the fountain of information. I propose to give as faithful a picture of the excitement which prevailed at that period as my opportunities for observation, my memory, and my pen, can furnish. And I am sure, if I can impress upon my narrative but a slight degree of the animation which ought to belong to the subject, not only will it engage a heartfelt interest on the part of the reader, taking it merely as a stirring and descriptive story, but present an example which, at the present and at all future times, ought to be regarded with admiration, hope, and a patriotic spirit of rivalry. In this attempt my safest course will be to confine myself to those scenes and occurrences of which I was an immediate witness, presuming that a circumstantial account of what transpired, even within a narrow section of our loyal and chivalrous territory, may stand as a specimen that is illustrative of the whole. In 1805 twelve summers had shone upon me, and, therefore, it may be fairly presumed that I retain a lively recollection of the state of feeling and style of conduct that pervaded the immediate neighbourhood of my home at that remarkable epoch; and as that home was situated in a sequestered corner of the Western Lowlands of Scotland, within a few miles of the expanded Clyde, though before it can properly be called the ocean, the reports of French invasion, like every other news, never reached us until they were charged with all the accessories of alarm which it was possible to imagine; not only because they bore the colourings which uncertainty allowed the ardent minds of a simple and intelligent peasantry to bestow on them, but because we dwelt upon a coast, and almost upon the very margin of a magnifice where a fleet of a thousand sail might ride at a immense army. A short description of our rescent-bay, land an of the precise situation of my father's house, may serve to give effect to some of the succeeding details. The parish of occupies two extensive ridges, which, in a tamer country, would obtain the name of mountains. These, with their intervening and adjacent valleys on the water of, form what may be termed the ground-plan of the whole. The stream alluded to may be said, indeed, to divide, by an impartial and equal process, this specified territory. It runs precisely from east to west; and though, at the higher boundary of the parish, it consists of a series of waterfalls, occasioned by the rugged uplands, which interrupt the view of all who, from the lower district, turn their eyes towards the interior, its channel, ever after, till losing itself in the sea, maintains the moderate and measured course of descent which the character of a gentler scenery and gradual declivity allows. It also happens that the lateral ridges spread and decline as they approach the coast, till they terminate at the lower extremity in a number of lessening eminences, into which the long and majestic sweep of the hills divides at last. Now, the inhabitants of this picturesque parish-whether they dwell in the peaceful and neat village that is pitched upon a bank of land within the embrace of a curvature of the stream, which, from its peculiar shape, is called the Crook, or upon the tops and sides of the ridges, or in the adjacent valleys-can, with scarcely a single exception, behold the far-rolling Clyde, without stepping many yards' length from their thresholds. Imagine, then, what sort of alarms and speculations were likely to fill the bosoms of these home-loving people, when two or three of them might meet together and comment on the fresh tidings, which had, perhaps, but a few hours before, reached them from afar, from London, through the domestics of Captain D, the only inhabitant of the parish who treated himself to a metropolitan newspaper! These speculations generally consisted of improvements upon the exaggerations just promulgated, and were most effectively transmitted from one to another of the church-goers on the Sabbath, in the interval between the morning and afternoon services. The knots of whispering politicians that might be seen studding the churchyard in these days, had an appearance not more perfectly rustic than eager for information, while every member of each group was sure to carry to his own fireside all that he had heard, there to be farther re-enlarged. The Sabbath, indeed, and the spot, as well as the parties that were thus connected with reports that were sometimes direful and sometimes the theme of triumph, tended to give emphasis and importance to the conceptions of a people so single-hearted, imaginative, and ardent as the well-educated peasantry of Scotland are allowed to be. Then think, I say, what must have been their comments and conjectures, when, on an unrestricted evening, they met in little groups on the hill-sides or in the vales, and speculated, while casting their eyes to the west, where, before the sun again rose, a mighty flotilla might be spread! Nay, like wildfire, more than once the rumour ran at midnight, that the enemy was in the bay, and landing myriads of troops, nothing short of bloodshed and insatiable rapine being the evils immediately looked for. And though, on one of these occasions, the only cause of alarm had been taken from a moonlight glimpse of a few smuggling craft from the Western Islands, that had stealthily stood in for the bay to land a quantity of illicit whisky, yet nothing less than the morning sun could dissipate the delusion. It was in 1805, I believe, that some of the most active preparations were made, or were reported to be made, by the French, for the avowed purpose of invading great Britain. The flotilla at Boulogne was said to be greatly increased, and an army of 100,000 well-disciplined troops, put under the command of an able General, it was added, were constantly kept in readiness to step on board, and be wafted, in a marvellously short space of time, to our peaceful shores. But such was the dread lest our country, which had been so long unprofaned by foreign foes, should be thus visited, and such the patriotism and spirit of resistance which animated the people, that the number of volunteers trained to military service speedily amounted to 300,000. My native parish, of course, furnished its quota; and to the organization and early history of this corps the following particulars principally relate. Here it may be remarked that the young of the present day cannot experience anything like an adequate conception of the ardour and the sacrifices that were witnessed at the period referred to; nor, indeed, is it possible that they ever shall, until they behold the hearths and the altars of a patriotic and unconquered people threatened with immediate and foreign violation. Even my own recollections, I find, require to be wooed and set in order, to be buttressed by recalling a number of enfeebled associations, before I can bring home to my heart with a tolerable degree of freshness and fixedness the incidents, the cast of features, and the spirit which distinguished "The Days of the Volunteers." I begin at my father's house. For several centuries my predecessors had been farmers, and during the greater and latter portion of that time they had rented the same lands which my father occupied, with credit to themselves and benefit to the community. Indeed, the result of their united and persevering industry and thrift was the purchase, by my father, of a large extent of moorland, a good many miles inland from the place where they had "feathered their nest," as the provincial phrase goes. This lay on the southern slope of the southernmost ridge of hills that guarded the intersecting stream already mentioned. Here my father was born, and here, not many years ago, he died. This was the spot which he and his offspring regarded with far more fond attachment and delight than any acquired property situated elsewhere; and here it was that, out of five sons, four of them at one time belonged to our parish volunteers, each of them entering the service with alacrity and enthusiasm, though the years of the youngest, at the time he donned the red coat, scarcely enabled him to shoulder his musket. Well do I remember the day, or rather the affecting evening hour, when, in family conclave, my eldest brother devoted himself and was consecrated by his parents to the office of defending his native land. It was immediately after Government had called for a speedy enlargement of the volunteer force, and when the threatened danger seemed to be most imminent. The solemnity of which I speak took place on a Sabbath eve, just after the whole family had gathered and composed themselves around the cheerful kitchen hearth, as was our wont on the sacred day, but never more sedately and thoughtfully than on the occasion I speak of; for none of us had ever known a season of such unusual importance in the annals of our parish. Even in his afternoon discourse of that same day, our venerable pastor had addressed himself explicitly and wholly to the signs and the exigencies of the time, and, with more than his usual fervour, pathos, and eloquence, he had striven to spirit on his flock to active and immediate measures. : "Waste not your hours, my dear children and brethren," said he, "in vain laments and speculations, but rather, in the scourge that menaces us, recognise the teachings of a Father, who wills that we should be tried, that those who are at ease and falsely secure in Zion may be aroused, and that the pious may be invigorated in their pilgrimage to heaven. This is not the season when glad tidings from earthly potentates are proclaimed. We must reverse the language of the prophet, and turn our ploughshares into swords, and our pruning-hooks into spears. The Corsican threatens he may be within our gates ere another moon lightens our land. Were I of the young or the robust, I would respond to my beloved Sovereign's call, and buckle on the weapons of war without a day's delay. I would come, if the danger required it, to this watch-tower for heaven's King, wearing the insignia and the accoutrements of mortal conflict, knowing that he well serves God who strenuously and faithfully loves and defends his neighbour and his country. But, though stricken in years, I will not, if life and health be vouchsafed to me, be a mere looker-on. Let my equals in age, the elders of the congregation, assemble with me in this sacred house tomorrow, and take counsel together. It is not property, nor limb, nor life, nor name, nor nation, that are alone in jeopardy, but our religion." In this strain did the holy and zealous man address his flock-indignant, tender, and magnanimous by turns-arousing all who heard him to an unwonted pitch of virtuous enthusiasm. On the preceding day Captain D, who was the principal proprietor in the parish, had convoked a meeting of the able-bodied inhabitants, and appealed to them, though in a different, yet in a harmonious manner, as became an old military officer. But the veteran's address required to be backed by our revered pastor, as was most effectually done; for before another week elapsed many in the parish were not only in heart, but in habit, volunteer-recruits. 66 But to return to my father's fireside. 'Robert," said he to the eldest of his children, "what think you of it?"-alluding thus indefinitely in point of words to that which every one present felt to be sufficiently well understood to require a closer or fuller description. My mother spoke first, and interposed something like a doubt respecting the suitableness of the discussion for the sabbath, though, perhaps, her main design was to evade its probable termination. But she was instantly silenced by my father's announcement that the sabbath would not protect us against the usurper and the infidel's invasion. "Will you, Robert," continued he, "fight for our kindred and country, our heritage and religion?" "I shall be a volunteer," was the firm and prompt reply. And I—and I—and I," were the rapid sequences of the three junior striplings, who were divided from the eldest by slight and gradual stages in the matter of years. But the strongest emotion attended our father's deliberate and resolved declaration, when he added-“ I also shall be of the armed host;" for she, whom it most concerned, arose to withdraw, only able to articulate, "And I am to be a widow and child 66 |