sseul obeyed.

"His execution, at any rate, shall be public," said the earl to himself,
when the latter had left him. "Perhaps he may make some confession on
the scaffold, and it will be well to have it amply testified."

On the following day, Chatelard was led out to execution, when his
gentleman-like appearance and noble bearing excited the utmost sympathy
of the crowd. On ascending the scaffold, he pulled a small volume from
his pocket, opened it, and read aloud, with great dignity and composure,
Ronsard's Hymn on Death. When he had done, he turned towards that part
of the Castle of St Andrew's where he supposed the queen to be, and,
kissing his hand, waved a graceful adieu, exclaiming--"Farewell,
loveliest and most cruel princess whom the world contains!"

Having uttered these words, he laid his head, with the utmost composure,
on the block. The axe of the executioner fell, and the high-souled,
accomplished, but enthusiastic Chatelard was no more.

CHRISTIE OF THE CLEEK.

Though the records of history and everyday experience teach us that
human nature, when pressed beyond certain limits by the force of stern
necessity, loses all trace of the lineaments of the lord of the
creation, and degenerates as far below the grade of brute existence as
it is, when not subjected to any such power, above it; yet it is
remarkable how determinedly mankind cling to a sceptical incredulity in
regard to those facts which derogate, in a very great degree, from the
dignity of the character of their species. The story of Christiecleek
has been considered by many as only fit for being, what it has been for
five hundred years, a nursery bugbear, and yet it is narrated by Winton,
one of the least credulous of historians, was attended by circumstances
rendering it highly probable at the time, and has been corroborated by
instances of _civilised_ cannabalism, produced by necessity, in cases of
shipwreck, of almost yearly occurrence.

The united powers of war and famine, which have so often poured forth
their fury on the devoted head of poor Scotland, at no time exhibited
greater malignity than in the beginning of the reign of David II. For
about fifty years, the country had scarcely ever enjoyed a year of
quiet--with, perhaps, the exception of a short period of the reign of
Bruce. Repeatedly swept from one end to the other by the invading armies
of the Edwards, carrying the sword and the faggot in every direction,
she was, on th