Barcaldine's arm is high in air, And Kinloch-Alline's blade is bare; Onward they press with weapons high, . Brave Torquil from Dunvegan high, Eyes, hands, and brandish'd weapons met; While thus for blows and death prepared, upon him. He then announces, that warning from above forbids him to celebrate the proposed nuptials, and immediately sets sail. The consternation of Lorn is increased by the sudden disappearance of Edith, who it appears had fled along with her nurse, no one knows where. Ronald, however, beholds all these events with secret satisfaction. After this day of agitation, all the guests of Artornish at length retire to rest. Bruce and his brother, when sunk in repose, are alarmed by the sound of footsteps in their apartment. They are re-assured, however, by discovering that this mysterious visitor is Ronald. That chieftain then owns and does homage to Bruce as his sovereign, and proffers apologies for having been induced to bear arms against him. Bruce confides to him his designs and hopes of regaining his rightful possession, and they deliberate on the course to be followed. They determine to repair, first to Skye, thence to coast the Hebrides, and call out their brave inhabitants to the defence of their monarch. To the shore of Skye we are therefore conducted. The chiefs, in passing by the most desolate part of it, are tempted to land and hunt the deer. This gives the poet an opportunity to describe the remarkable scenery which occurs in this quarter, and which he has done in a singularly powerful and striking manner. Rarely human eye has known With its dark ledge of barren stone. The tumult is appeased by the ar- Through the rude bosom of the hill, Tells of the outrage still. The wildest glen, but this, can show Some touch of Nature's genial glow; On high Benmore green mosses grow, And heath-bells bud in deep Glencroe, And copse on Cruchan-Ben; On mountain or in glen, Nor The summer sun, the spring's sweet dew, That clothe with many a varied hue The bleakest mountain-side. And wilder, forward as they wound, For from the mountain hoar, In Nature's rage at random thrown, On its precarious base. The evening mists, with ceaseless change, And round the skirts their mantle furl'd, Dispersed in middle air. And oft, condensed, at once they lower, And when return the sun's glad beams, Leap from the mountain's crown. The chiefs are now informed, that their bark, by a sinistrous accident, has been compelled to quit the shore. They are fain therefore to accept the invitation of several very suspicious personages, to enter their hut. Ronald and Bruce determine to watch, by turns, along with Allan, a young chief who accompanies them. The two former complete their watches with care and safety, but with Allan the case was otherwise. To Allan's eyes was harder task, Then thought he of his mother's tower, In rays prolong'd the blazes die- The two chiefs instantly start up, and avenge the death of Allan by that of his murderers. Next morning, on leaving the hut, they are surprised by the appearance of Edward Bruce, who, according to their arrangements, should have gone to Ireland. He informs them, that a general movement in favour of national independence, and of Bruce, has taken place throughout Scotland, and the arrival of that chief is only waited for to make a general rising. The party immediately leave Skye, and we have a very gay and pleasing picture of their voyage along the coast of the Hebrides, with notices of the different passing islands. We select the following: Merrily, merrily, goes the bark On a breeze from the northward free, So shoots through the morning sky the lark, Or the swan through the summer sen. The The shores of Mull on the eastward lay, That guard famed Staffa round. That Nature's voice might seem to say, “Well hast thou done, frail Child of clay Thy humble powers that stately shrine Task'd high and hard-but witness mine!" He at length reaches the Island of Arran, where he meets a chosen band of adherents, many of whom had either fought, or had lost relations, at the battle of Falkirk. This gives rise to solemn and interesting reflections. Oh, War! thou hast thy fierce, delight, Thy gleams of joy, intensely bright! Such gleams, as from thy polish'd shield Fly dazzling o'er thy battle field! Such transports wake, severe and high, Amid the pealing conquest-cry; Scarce less, when, after battle lost, Muster the remnants of a host, And as each comrade's name they tell, Who in the well-fought conflict fell, Knitting stern brow o'er flashing eye, Vow to avenge them or to die!— Warriors!-and where are warriors found, If not on martial Britain's ground? And who, when waked with note of fire, Love more than they the British lyre ?Know ye not,-hearts to honour dear! That joy, deep-thrilling, stern, severe, At which the heart-strings vibrate high, And wake the fountains of the eye? And blame ye, then, the Bruce, if trace Of tear is on his manly face, When, scanty reliques of the train That hail'd at Scone his early reign. This patriot band around him hung, And to his knees and bosom clung ?-- Blame ye the Bruce?—his brother blamed, But shared the weakness, while ashamed, With haughty laugh his head he turn'd, And dash'd away the tear he scorn'd. In a convent upon this island, Bruce meets his sister Isabel, the lady who had accompanied him at the castle of Artornish, and who, we omitted to mention, possessed the secret heart of Ronald. Nor was his passion unreturned; but this highminded lady now determines to devote herself to the cloister, and to be no bar to the performance of Ronald's reluctant engagement to Edith.— Bruce in vain endeavours to shake her resolution. It behoves us now also to mention, that Bruce had found, prisoner in the hands of the ruffians of Skye, a youthful, but mute minstrel, who now accompanies him, and whom the reader soon discovers to be Edith. She continues to attend the chiefs in this disguise. We are next conducted to Bruce's castle on Carrickshore, which he is made to attack, and succeed in taking. This Mr Scott candidly admits to be against the truth of history, but conceives himself fully entitled, for the sake of poetical effect, to make this small variation. Our limits will not allow us to enter into any of the details of this expedition, though it includes many interesting situations and brilliant descriptions. The following exhibits the feelings which arise at the conclusion: The Bruce hath won his father's hall! "Welcome, brave friends and comrades all, Welcome to mirth and joy! The first, the last, is welcome here, In tottering infancy! The next canto conducts us to the great great crisis of the poem, and to the most memorable event in Scottish history, the battle of Bannockburn. There seems to be an impression, as if Mr Scott here had not quite fulfilled the expectations formed of such a subject, described by such a poet. This, it is probable, proceeds partly from these expectations having been raised to an extravagant height. So far as there is any failure, we ascribe it to the intimate and accurate acquaintance of Mr Scott with all the historical particulars of this memorable action. To alter these, even to add to them, might have appeared a species of profanation. But tactical details, and strict adherence to fact, are scarcely compatible with that wild licence of fancy, which seems necessary to produce the highest flights of poetical genius. Yet few passages in modern poetry can compare with the following: It was a night of lovely June, Demayet smiled bencath her ray; To which we may add the description of the English cavalry sinking into the pits dug for them by the Scots. Rushing, ten thousand horsemen came As far as Stirling rock. Down! down! in headlong overthrow, Horseman and horse, the foremost go, Wild floundering on the field! The first are in destruction's gorge, Their followers wildiy o'er them urge;The knightly helm and shield, Oh, blame her not !—when zephyrs wake, A ward in person and in laud : And, last, she was resolved to stay The thought, he had his falsehood rued! She accordingly departs. From the top of Demayet she views the battle of Bannockburn, and by an incident, perhaps somewhat strained, is made to contribute in no small de gree to the catastrophe. Ronald recognizes and at once owns the power of A Translation of the Psalms of David, with Notes, by Samuel Horsley, L. L. D. F. R. S. F. A. S. late Lord Bishop of St Asaph, is announced, in two volumes, octavo. An interesting work is announced under the title of Bibliotheca AngloPoetica, or a Descriptive Catalogue of a singularly rare and rich Collection of Old English Poetry; illustrated by occasional Extracts, with Notes, critical and biographical. It will be elegantly printed in royal octavo, and ornamented with capitals and about twenty portraits, finely engraved on wood. The impression on royal octavo will be limited, and fifty copies only will be printed on imperial oc tavo. A volume is preparing for publication on the Protection required by British Agriculture, and on the Influence of the price of Food on exportF. R. S. author of "Travels in the able productions, by W. Jacob, Esq. South of Spain." Proposals have been issued for printing by subscription, the Mosiad, or Israel Delivered, a sacred poem, in six canticles, with notes, &c. written by an artist, during his detention in ly twelve years. France as a prisoner of war for near An Introduction to Entomology, or Elements of the Natural History of Insects, is preparing for publication, by the Rev. William Kirby, B. A. F. L. S. and William Spence, Esq. F. L. S. It will comprise,-1. A full detail of all the most interesting facts relative to the manners and economy of insects; their noxious and beneficial properties; their food and modes of procuring it; habitations; societies, &c. &c. ; bringing into one point of view, on each of these heads, all the discoveries of Reaumur, De Geer, Bonnet, &c. 2. 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