a wretch, predestined to evil here and hereafter." "For the sake of heaven, that hears and sees us," said Jeanie, "dinna speak in this desperate fashion! The gospel is sent to the chief of sinners-to the most miserable among the miserable."-"Then should I have my own share therein," said the stranger, "if you call it sinful, to have been the destruction of the mother that bore me, of the friend that loved me, of the woman that trusted me, of the innocent child that was born to me. If to have done all this, is to be a sinner, and to survive it is to be miserable, then am I most guilty and most miserable indeed." This extraordinary confession and moonlight meeting, between Jeanie Deans and Robertson, is represented as having occurred in the desolate tract that surrounds St. Anthony's Chapel and hermitage, near to the town of Edinburgh. The ruins stand in the depths of the valley behind Salisbury Crags, over-hung by the mountain called Arthur's Seat. A more appropriate site for a hermitage could scarcely have been selected; the chapel, encircled by rude and pathless cliffs, lies in a desert, although in the immediate vicinity of a rich, populous, and even tumultuous capital; and the civic hum might mingle with the orisons of the recluses, yet produce effects as unheeded as the splashing of the waves at the base of the isolated rock. The ancient chapel extended forty-five feet in length, with a breadth of twenty; from the western end rose a tower, twenty feet square, to the height of forty feet; all of which were entire in the times of Maitland and Arnot the historians. The remains of the chapel are insignificant; but the cell may yet be distinctly traced, a few yards west from the former, and measures sixteen feet in length by twelve in breadth. The monastery to which this ancient cell and chapel were attached, was situated a little to the north-west of the present church of South Leith, upon the west side of the lane still denominated, St. Anthony's Wynd; and the seal of the monastery is preserved in the Advocates' Library in Edinburgh. At the foot of a precipice, below the site of the hermitage, the waters of St Anthony's Well gush forth: this was once a favourite walk of queen Mary, and her name is still associated with many a legend, the scene of which is laid in this vicinity. These hallowed precincts are much visited on Sunday evenings, and are endeared to the recollection of many by their introduction into one of the most touching, tender ballads in the whole range of Scottish poetry.

"I leant my back unto an aik,

I thought it was a trusty tree;
But first it bowed, and syne it brak,
Sae my true love's forsaken me.

"Oh! Arthur's Seat shall be my bed,
The sheets shall ne'er be fyled by me;

St. Anton's Well shall be my drink,

Sin' my true love's forsaken me."

MADGE WILDFIRE AND JEANIE DEANS.

"Le trait qui fait le sujet de cette histoire est vrai: l'imagination n'invente point des actions si touchantes, ni des sentimens si généreux: le cœur seul peut les inspirer."-MADAME COTTIN.

[Tales of My Landlord, Second Series, (Heart of Midlothian,) Vol. II. p. 285.

"As Jeanie had no mind to enter the congregation in such company, she walked aside from the pathway, and said in a decided tone, "Madge, I will wait here till the church comes out; you may go in by yourself, if you have a mind." As she spoke these words, she was about to seat herself upon one of the grave-stones. Madge was a little before Jeanie when she turned aside; but suddenly changing her course, she followed with long strides, and, with every feature inflamed with passion, overtook and seized her by the arm. "Do you think, ye ungratefu' wretch, that I am gaun to let you sit down upon my father's grave? The deil settle you doun :-if you dinna rise, and come to the interpreter's house, that's the house of God, wi' me, but I'll rive every dudd aff your back!" She adapted action to the phrase; for with one clutch she stripped Jeanie of her straw bonnet and a handful of her hair to-boot, and threw it up into an old yew-tree, where it stuck fast. Jeanie's first impulse was to effect her escape, but on reflection thought it wiser to consent to follow her frantic guide; the meek intimation of which decision gave another direction to the train of Madge's wild ideas. She held Jeanie fast with one hand, and with the other pointed to the inscription on the gravestone, and commanded her to read it. Jeanie obeyed, and read these words: This monument was erected to the memory of Donald Murdockson of the King's XXVI. or Cameronian Regiment, a sincere Christian, a brave soldier, and a faithful servant, by his grateful and sorrowing master, Robert Staunton.' 'It's weel read, Jeanie, its just the very words,' said Madge, whose ire had now faded into deep melancholy, and, with a step which, to Jeanie's great joy, was uncommonly quiet and mournful, she led her companion towards the door of Willingham Church. This venerable edifice was one of those old-fashioned gothic parish churches which are frequent in England, the most cleanly, decent, and reverential places of worship that are perhaps any where to be found in the Christian world."

The English reader is doubtless familiar with many interesting Christian scenes which can supply him with an original of Willingham Church; they constitute a peculiarly beautiful feature in English landscape, and indicate a long-established reign of morals and civilization. And which of us, alas, is unconnected in feeling with some ancient sepulchral ground, where all that reflected honour on his race and name are laid in sleep until the final summons. The scene itself then appears to be too truly original, and the actors that are introduced by the novelist are believed also to have had a veritable existence. Of Jeanie Deans it is asserted, with every appearance of truth, that the prototype was a female named Helen Walker; she had been left an orphan at an early age,

with the charge of a sister many years younger than herself, whom she educated and maintained by her individual exertions. What must have been the feelings of this honest and amiable woman, when she was informed that this her more than sister must be tried by the laws of her country for child murder, and that she herself would be called upon as the principal witness against her. The counsel engaged to advise and defend the unfortunate prisoner, explained to Helen, that if she would only swear that her sister had given her some intimation of her condition, or that she had observed her making such preparation as the delicate occasion would naturally require, that statement would be sufficient to save her sister's life. But Helen remained immoveably fixed in the determinaation of not taking a false oath, and declared that "whatever would be the consequence, she would give her evidence according to her conscience." The trial came on, and Helen's evidence, or rather ignorance, led to the conviction and condemnation of the prisoner. During the removal of the criminal from the bar, she was heard to exclaim, "O Nelly, ye hae been the cause o' my death!" to which Helen Walker replied, "Ye ken I bade speak the truth." The period allowed between the sentence and execution of the criminal (six weeks) gave Helen time to mature and accomplish her plan for the preservation of her sister's life. On the very day of her condemnation, the original Jeanie Deans had a petition drawn up, stating the peculiar circumstances of the case, and on the evening of that day set out on foot from Dumfries for London, without even one letter or note of recommendation. Arriving in the capital of civilized Europe, she waited at the door of the duke of Argyll during three successive days, and at length, just as he was stepping into his carriage, advanced, attired in her highland costume, and presented her petition in person. The duke paid Helen that attention that her virtues and energies entitled her to; and having examined into the facts of her story, obtained the pardon of her sister, and sent Helen back to Dumfries at his own expense. Helen Walker resided on the romantic banks of the river Clouden, near to the spot where that beautiful streamlet is crossed by a bridge, on the line of road between Sanquhar and Dumfries; she attained the great age of eighty-five years, having had the happiness to see her sister Sibby united in marriage to the individual whose attachment had placed her life in peril, and was buried in the churchyard of Irongrey in the year 1787.