dead? will it restore light to their eyes, and passion to their hearts? will it suffer the nerveless fingers to clasp ours again as they were wont to do; and bid us listen, as we did in our days of happiness, to gentle words, from lips which are now livid and gory in the grave? Talk not to me of my countrymy country is where I may again meet Henrique, where my father now dwells in glory." The paroxysm of unnatural energy was past, and Isabel sank senseless at the feet of her distracted mother. For a time Donna Anna believed that the spirit of her child had fled, but it was not so; slowly and painfully she awoke from her deathlike swoon, only to become the tenant of a sick bed.

At length the last bolt fell: even by the couch of her suffering child did the widow learn that her brave boy was in the city, dying of his wounds. Isabel caught, and at once understood the low whisper in which the tidings were communicated. "Our Lady has heard my prayer;" she said, as she raised herself on her elbow, and signed the cross on her breast. "I shall yet see him once again: -mother, he is stricken,-dying:-lend me your arm that I may rise, and give up to him the only bed which our country has left us."

66

Donna Anna would have refused compliance, but Isabel was resolute; Mother," she whispered; "his wounds will require rest-mine can never know it; bear with me then, and do not let me see you weep; is not your son about to cross your threshold once more? and will you welcome him with tears?" The young soldier was carried over that threshold in the arms of four of his comrades -he only went to die; but it was strangely beautiful to see his fading sister, herself scarcely less feeble, bending over his pillow, and wiping from his brow the death-damps which settled there; while they talked together of their dead father, of Henrique, and of the spot where they fell: and Isabel never shed a tear, never breathed a sigh; but when a momentary flashing of enthusiasm lit up the fine, though faded, features of her brother, she smiled sadly and bitterly, and only shook her head.

They were alone together when he died: and the girl, when he had heaved his last sigh upon her bosom, resolutely rose, bound a fillet about his head, and composed his limbs decently and tenderly; and then she took her seat beside the body, and with her arm twined around its neck, and her face buried on its bosom, she lay calmly and tearlessly awaiting the return of her mother.

The sad tale is almost told: When the British arms restored peace to Portugal, Isabel, then wasted and worn to a shadow, became anxious to see, ere she died, the loved mountains and pleasant valleys amid which she had wandered with her dead lover, in the days when life was all hope and sunshine.

The heart-bowed Donna Anna, who clung to her dying child as to her last hold on happiness, instantly complied; and Isabel, accompanied by her mother, and the faithful and sagacious little animal which had been the herald of all her misery, left Lisbon, under the protection of Colonel

I saw her grave; it was overgrown with turf and wild flowers; and the dog, which only survived its mistress a few weeks, lies at her feet.

Donna Anna finds her best consolation for all the sorrow and bereavement which she has undergone in the holy offices of religion and charity: but sometimes, as she confessed to us, when the tide of memory rolls back upon her, she utters a secret prayer that she may ere long be gathered to her loved ones!

"I thought not to have lived many days after I laid the head of my blessed child in her grave;" said the old lady, in concluding her narrative; " and yet, here I am still; my hair has long been white, and my step feeble-but Our Lady is good; and I am contented estar esperando pela minha hora.”* To wait for God's time.

The Topographer.

GLENCOE.

Grey mists rests on the hills. The whirlwind Is heard on the heath. Dark rolls the river.

OSSIAN.

THE melancholy event which has attached such a fearful interest to the valley of Glencoe, it shall be our endeavour to lay as concisely before the readers of The Mirror as possible. It is in itself, independent of connecting circumstances, the most wild and singular spot in all Scotland, and is situated in the district of Appen, Argyleshire. What is about to be related, is perhaps the most atrocious, as it is the most unprovoked, "deed of blood" which stains the page of modern history: all the meritorious actions of King William III. (and they are not a few) are insufficient to obliterate the foul blot which this most unprincipled transaction has thrown upon his memory.

In the year 1691, as the Highlanders, who were fondly attached to the Stuart family, had not totally submitted to the authority of William, the Earl of Bredalbane undertook to bring them over, by distributing sums of money among their chiefs; and 15,0007. were remitted from England for this purpose. The clans being informed of this remittance, suspected that the earl's design was to appropriate to himself the best part of the money; and when he began to treat with them, made such extravagant demands, that he found his scheme impracticable. He was, therefore, obliged to refund the sum he received; and he resolved to wreak his ven geance with the first opportunity on those

who had frustrated his intention. He who chiefly thwarted his negotiation, was Macdonald of Glencoe, whose opposition rose from a private circumstance, which ought to have had no effect upon a treaty that regarded the public weal. Macdonald had plundered the lands of Bredalbane during the course of hostilities; and this nobleman insisted upon being indemnified for his losses, from the others' share of the money which he was employed to distribute. The Highlander not only refused to acquiesce in these terms, but, by his influence among the clans, defeated the whole scheme; and the earl, in revenge, devoted him to destruction. King William had, by proclamation, offered an indemnity to all those who had been in arms against him, provided they would submit, and take the oaths by a certain day; and this was prolonged to the close of the year 1691, with a denunciation of military execution against those who should hold out after the end of December. Macdonald, intimidated by this declaration, repaired on the very last day of the month to Fort William, and desired that the oaths might be tendered to him by Colonel Hill, governor of that fortress. As this officer was not vested with the power of a civil magistrate, he refused to administer them; and Macdonald set out immediately for Inverary, the county town of Argyle. Though the ground was covered with snow, and the weather intensely cold, he travelled with such diligence, that the term prescribed by the proclamation was but one day elapsed when he reached the place, and addressed himself to Sir John Campbell, sheriff of the county, who, in consideration of his disappointment at Fort William, was

prevailed upon to administer the oaths to him and his adherents. Then they returned to their own habitations, in the valley of Glencoe, in full confidence of being protected by the Government, to which they had so solemnly submitted. Bredalbane had represented Macdonald at Court as an incorrigible rebel, as a ruffian inured to bloodshed and rapine, who would never be obedient to the laws or his country, nor live peaceably under any sovereign. He observed, that he had paid no regard to the proclamation, and proposed that the Government should sacrifice him to the quiet of the kingdom, in extirpating him, with his family and dependents, by military execution. His advice was sup ported by the suggestions of the other Scottish ministers; and the King, whose chief virtue was not humanity, signed a warrant for the destruction of those unhappy people-though it does not appear that he knew of Macdonald's submission.

An order for this barbarous execution, signed and countersigned by his Majesty's own hand, being transmitted to the Master of Stair, secretary for Scotland, this minister sent particular directions to Livingstone, who commanded the troops in that kingdom, to put the inhabitants of Glencoe to the sword, charging him to take no prisoners, that the scene might be more terrible. In the month of February, Captain Campbell, of Glenlyon, by virtue of an order from Major Duncanson, marched into the valley of Glencoe, with a company of soldiers belonging to Argyle's regiment, on pretence of levying the arrears of the land-tax and hearth-money. When Macdonald demanded whether they came as friends or enemies, he answered, as friends;

and promised, upon his honour, that neither he nor his people should sustain the least injury. In consequence of this declaration, he and his men were received with the most cordial hospitality, and lived fifteen days with the men of the valley, in all the appearance of the most unreserved friendship. At length the fatal day approached. Macdonald and Campbell having passed the day together, parted about seven in the evening, with mutual professions of the warmest affection. The younger Macdonald, perceiving the guards doubled, began to suspect some treachery, and communicated his suspicions to his brother; but neither he nor the father would harbour the least doubt of Campbell's sincerity. Nevertheless, the two young men went forth privately, to make further observations. They overheard the common soldiers say, they liked not the work; that though they would have willingly fought the Macdonalds of the glen fairly in the field, they held it base to murder them in cool blood; but that their officers were answerable for the treachery. When the youths hasted back to apprize their father of the impending danger, they saw the house already surrounded: they heard the discharge of muskets, the shrieks of women and children; and, being destitute of arms, secured their own lives by immediate flight. The savage ministers of vengeance had entered the old man's chamber, and shot him through the head. He fell down dead in the arms of his wife, who died the next day, distracted by the horror of her husband's fate. The Laird of Auchintrincken, Macdonald's guest, who had three months before this period submitted to the Government, and at this very time had a protection in his pocket, was put to death without question. A boy of eight years, who fell at Campbell's feet, imploring mercy, and offering to serve him for life, was stabbed to the heart by one Drummond, a subaltern officer. Thirty-eight persons suffered in this manner, the greater part of whom were surprised in their beds, and hurried into eternity before they had time to implore the Divine Mercy. design was to butcher all the males under seventy that lived in the valley, the number of whom amounted to two hundred; but some of the detachments did not arrive soon enough to secure the passes, so that one hundred and sixty escaped.

The

Campbell, having perpetrated this brutal massacre, ordered all the houses to be burnt, made a prey of all the cattle and effects that were found in the valley, and left the helpless women and children, whose fathers and husbands he had murdered, naked and for lorn, without covering, food, or shelter, in the midst of the snow that covered the whole face of the country, at the distance of six long miles from any inhabited place. Dis

tracted with grief and horror, surrounded with the shades of night, shivering with cold, and appalled with the apprehension of immediate death from the swords of those who had sacrificed their friends and kinsmen, they could not endure such a complication of calamities, but generally perished in the waste before they could receive the least comfort or assistance. H. INNES.

The Naturalist.

BETEL PEPPER.

THE Betel is a climbing, Indian plant, which belongs to the same tribe as pepper; but so general is its cultivation, that it is difficult to say in what part of India it is really wild. In form and appearance, it is not much unlike ivy, but is more tender, and full of juice. Its stems are shrubby, much branched, running along the ground, or climbing to a great height, and throwing out roots from the less broad, oblique at the base, acuminated numerous joints. The leaves are more or at the point, and from four to seven inches long. The catkins opposite the leaves are at first shorter than the leaf, slender, cylindrical, tapering, in fruit greatly enlarged, penin Curtis's Botanical Magazine, where the dent. The subjoined cut is from an engraving editor states the original to be a drawing Vincent, at which place the plant flourished executed by the Rev. L. Guilding, in St. from slips and cuttings, which are carefully as well as in its native country. It is raised

2 3 4

(The Betel Pepper.)

planted in a rich, moist soil, so as to be protected from sun and rain: this is done by training them to other plants, or to poles, over which a thin shed of mats is spread.

The use of the Betel is connected with some customs, which are extremely interesting in their details, as illustrating ideas of social enjoyment in the East.

Throughout India, and especially in the Malay Islands, the inhabitants have, almost from time immemorial, considered Betel as a necessary of life; and this not by itself, but with the use of lime and the Areca nut, together constituting a masticatory, employed by either sex, and at all ages. Various travellers relate particulars of the use of this plant; but we shall confine ourselves to those of Marsden, in his History of Sumatra, which fully describe the Malayan custom. After noticing the almost universal practice of nations enjoying, by mastication or otherwise, the flavour of substances possessing an inebriating quality, Mr. Marsden proceeds :

The South Americans chew the Cocoa and Mambeca, and the Eastern people, the Betel and Areca; or, as they are called in the Malay language, Sirih and Pinang. This custom is universal among the Sumatrans, who carry the ingredients constantly about them, and serve them to their guests on all occasions; the prince in a gold stand, and the poor man in a brass box or mat bag. The betel-stands of the better ranks of people are usually of silver, embossed with rude figures. The Sultan of Moco-moco was presented with one by the India Company with their arms on it: and he possesses another besides of gold filagree. The form of the stand is the frustrum of an hexagonal pyramid, reversed; about six or eight inches in diameter. It contains many smaller vessels, fitted to the angles, for holding the nut, leaf, and chunam, which is quick-lime made from calcined shells; with places for the instruments, (hachip,) employed in cutting the first, and spatulas for spreading the last.

"When the first salutation is over, which consists in bending the body, and the inferior's putting his joined hands between those of the superior, and then lifting them to his forehead, the Betel is presented as a token of hospitality and an act of politeness. To omit it on the one hand, or to reject it on the other, would be an affront; as it would be likewise in a man of subordinate rank, to address a great man, without the precaution of chewing it before he spoke. All the preparation consists in spreading on the Sirih leaf a small quantity of the Chunam, and folding it up with a slice of the Pinang nut. Some mix with these Gambir, which is a substance prepared from the leaves of a tree of that name, by boiling their juices to a consistence, and making it up into little balls or squares; tobacco is likewise added, which is shred

fine for the purpose, and carried between the lip and upper row of teeth. From the mastication of the first three, proceeds a juice which tinges the saliva of a bright red, and which the leaf and nut without the Chunam will not yield. This hue being communicated to the mouth and lips is esteemed ornamental; and an agreeable flavour is imparted to the breath. The juice is usually, (after the first fermentation produced by the lime), though not always, swallowed by the chewers of Betel."

The active qualities of the Betel do not injure the coats of the stomach, as might be supposed. It loosens the teeth; but Mr. Marsden thinks it does not affect their sound

ness.

Children begin to chew Betel when very young, and yet their teeth are always beautifully white, till pains are taken to injure them, by filing and staining them black. To persons unaccustomed to the composition, it causes a strong giddiness and other sensations, like those produced by chewing tobacco for the first time. During the fast of Ramadan, the Mahometans abstain from the use of Betel, whilst the sun continues above the horizon; but, excepting at this season, it is the constant luxury of both sexes, from an early period of childhood; till, becoming toothless, they are reduced to the extremity of having the ingredients previously reduced to a paste for them-that, without further effort, the Betel may dissolve in the mouth.

Notwithstanding these statesments of Mr. Marsden, the chewing of Betel is said in the Dictionnaire des Sciences Medicales, to gradually corrode the teeth to such a degree, that persons who use it habitually are deprived of all that part of the teeth above the gums at the age of twenty-five or thirty years; yet this does not hinder the universal employment of it.*

Sir Stamford Raffles relates an anecdote of the Betel custom, which touches the reader by its simplicity. When Lady Raffles had reached Merambung, in Sumatra, being much fatigued with walking, and the rest of the party having dispersed in various directions, she lay down under the shade of a tree, when a Malay girl approached, with great grace of manner, and on being asked if she wanted anything, replied-" No; but as you were quite alone, I thought you might like to have a little bichara (talk); so I came to offer you some siri (betel), and sit beside you." This is a scene of unsophisticated nature, which it is perfectly delightful to contemplate. It breathes of Arab hospitality; and the Malays, we should remember, adopted many of the customs of the Arabians, on their settlement as a nation.

The Cut represents a specimen of the Betel, with early mature spikes. Fig. 1. spike of flowers, natural size: 2. female flowers, magnified: 3. seed or fruit, natural size: 4. the same magnified.-(Curtis's Bot. Mag. No. 62, New Series.)

Notes of a Reader.

EFFECTS OF LIGHTNING.

[THE following are from Mr. Murray's pamphlet, already noticed:]

The effects of lightning are as wonderful as is the power of the assailant. Though lofty edifices be sometimes the subjects of its assault, lower structures, and trees, &c. but little elevated above the plain, are singled out, and become its victims. Some conducting point either in the objects struck, or in the soil or substrata, has determined the course of the lightning, for its direction is guided and governed by laws.

"There is," says Captain Tuckey in his Narrative," a singular pyramidal stone, (a natural block of loose granite, with another perched upon it,) which rises out of the circular summit of a hill. It is called Enzazzi, or the lightning-stone, and is held in veneration." The cause of this veneration may perhaps be found in its attraction for lightning, and the meteor may have been seen to fall upon or flicker around it. The pyramidal monument near Glasgow, reared to the memory of Nelson, was scarcely finished, when the lightning fell upon it and rent it in twain nearly from top to bottom; while the united testimonies of Rich, Buckingham, Sir R. K. Porter, and others, concur in ascribing to the effects of lightning, the rent of the Birs Nemroud, among the ruins of Babylon.

The following storm is recorded in Silliman's American Journal: "On the 3rd June, 1826, during a heavy shower of rain, a clap of thunder burst, with tremendous explosion, over a house in Weathersfield, Connecticut. The lightning ran down the chimney to the ceiling of the front room, where it came through, leaving a hole nearly an inch in diameter-tore off the paper and plaster from the wall-descended on a row of nails in the laths to a picture-melted all the gilding burned and tore one side of the frame-and, again rending its way, ran upon the nails to the fire-place, and separated the breast-work from the chimney; and from thence taking a horizontal direction, attracted by an umbrella in the corner of the cupboard, a small line was to be seen from a nail to a bolt in an opposite closet. From the umbrella it went off at an angle, and came out over the fire-place in a lower room, in nine holes, the largest the size of a common gimblet, scorch ing and slightly tearing the paper. It entered at the corner of a picture, melted the gilding,

A

In

blackened the frame, and passing off at another corner, separated again into several lines, intersecting each other, until they centered in a nail in the shelf. It passed down the back of the moulding, tore away a hard cement below, threw forward a false back of brick and iron, split the floor on each side of the hearth, rent off splinters two feet in length from the under floor in the cellar, and went east and west through a stone wall into the earth. The greatest force was exerted in the chamber-closet. The point of the umbrella was brass, and just beneath the wire which connects the whalebone it was burnt off; and the silk, the stick, and the whalebone, were nearly consumed. Several folds in some woollen carpets were burnt. A fur muff, a cloth coat, and some other articles were also much injured; a sleeve and part of the waist of the coat were destroyed, while the cotton lining to which they were stitched was left whole, and, excepting a small piece, was not even tender from scorching. black sulphureous smoke arose from the spot, and filled the house. A lady was in the closet with the door shut, and but a foot distant from the course of the lightning. The sound was dreadful, like cannon at her ears, and the heat inexpressibly great, as if she were in the midst of flames. She spoke at first of intense light, but all consciousness of that has since passed from her mind. this terrific and awful situation she was preserved unhurt, came out immediately and closed the door. It may be remarked that she was clothed in cotton, and a roll of carpeting stood between her and the umbrella. Five boards were thrown down, and four rooms were filled with the smell of sulphur, and covered with soot. The electrical fluid entered four closts adjoining the room in the lower story,-ran round china cups, plates, &c., raised and dissolved the gilding, or con verted it into the purple oxyde of gold, and, leaving a dark bluish path next to a nail. where it splintered the partition, escaped through the back of a door to a hinge. In a closet, without paint, it discoloured the wood three inches in width, broke four dishes, and drove out nine nails, four of them from a hinge; in a third it left an aperture, as large as a bullet-hole, in the ceiling, split the floor three feet, and tore up four inches, about an inch wide. In a fourth, it overturned, tossed out, and broke large phials of medicines, pill boxes, wafer boxes, &c. drove four nails partly out of the hinges, and rent off a piece of the casement. On the top shelf lay several iron articles. It pierced the ceiling in the back room, came down in two branches, and so completely dissipated four cents, weighing about 165 grains, which lay upon a nail in the moulding, that, except a metallic stain on the lead paint of the shelf, not a trace of them remained; they appear to have flashed,