with a burst of enthusiasm, suddenly exclaimed, "It is a strange, a most interesting account! and-if I may indeed consider it authentic-I think I could almost make a pilgrimage to that grave myself. Poor, poor Jeannie Cameron!" and the young scholar, something more affected than I could have expected from his volatile demeanour, swept the corner of his glove through the watery twinkle of his eye. The narrator of the story regarded him a moment with a gentle smile, then replied, "'Tis true I am unknown here, and you may reasonably doubt a nameless troubadour! But you all know Sir Walter Scott. Ask him, and he will verify the fact, that in his boyhood this tale was told as having just happened in Edinburgh ;-that so she wandered,died!" -so she With the concluding words, his countenance resumed its former placid melancholy; and bowing round to us with the courteous air of one accustomed to pay respect, and to receive it, he left the room. "Who can he be ?" instantly passed from one to the other of us. Nobody knew with whom he had come in. The waiters declared he did not belong to the club; and from that hour, none of our party ever either saw or heard of him. Esher. J. P. NAPOLEON AT THE KREMLIN. BY MRS. CHARLES GORE. I. DEEPLY shadowed by the night, On the platformed tower he stands ; And his lonely hour is bright With the dream of conquered lands, Where the chosen of his legions have striven! Where his plumed host appears, And its soaring eagle bears Its boast of blood and tears Unto heaven! II. Hushed in silent midnight sleep The city lies below; And the watch-call hoarse and deep, As he paceth to and fro, Breaks sternly its mighty repose Lo! kindling one by one, A thousand lights are shown,- Brightly glows! ! With years of danger bought, Hath the wine-cup's wanton power To my hardy veterans taught The excesses of corruption and shame ? Have they bade yon flames arise To tell the crimson skies That the stain of outrage lies On our name? Soldiers of Fame! come forth,- VI. Tear down each smoking wall Ere her towers unaided fall, Lie bravely earthed beneath, Where the bulwarks of her strength darkly nod!" "Invader! stay thy hand, Those mighty flames are fanned By the patriots of the land, And their God!" VII. Dreamedst thou with patient grief They would look on, to see The conqueror of their chief Issue forth his proud decree, To humble the city of their sires? Rather, let ruin come! Let each altar-hallowed dome, Let each loved and peaceful home VII. Hark! the gathering flames roar 'round Like the ocean's troubled bed! With a fiery show'r, the ground And the stifling air are red ;— Blazing fragments fall fast on the tower, Where the stores of ordnance lie Prompt for death.-Invader! fly, 'Tis a nation's rallying cry Rules the hour! IX. The sulphurous smoke pours down Round the Kremlin's sacred height:- Of yon flames that shed afar |