a second time, you will
bleed to death. Do, dearest Robert, for your poor old mother, to whom
you were always so kind and dutiful a son till now--for your poor old
mother's sake, do lie down."

The song ceased for a moment, and the tears came bursting from my eyes
as the tune changed, and he again sang:--

"O mither dear, make ye my bed,
For my heart it's flichterin' sair;
An' oh, gin I've vexed ye, mither dear,
I'll never vex ye mair.
I've staid ar'out the lang dark nicht,
I' the sleet an' the plashy rain;
But, mither dear, make ye my bed,
An' I'll ne'er gang out again."

"Dearest, dearest Robert," continued the poor, heart-broken woman, "do
lie down; for your poor old mother's sake, do lie down."

"No, no," he exclaimed, in a hurried voice, "not just now, mother, not
just now. Here is my friend, Mr. Lindsay, come to see me--my true
friend, Mr. Lindsay, the sailor, who has sailed all round and round the
world; and I have much, much to ask him. A chair, Margaret, for Mr.
Lindsay. I must be a preacher like John Knox, you know--like the great
John Knox, the reformer of a nation--and Mr. Lindsay knows all about
him. A chair, Margaret, for Mr. Lindsay."

I am not ashamed to say it was with tears, and in a voice faltering with
emotion, that I apologized to the poor woman for my intrusion at such a
time. Were it otherwise, I might well conclude my heart had grown hard
as a piece of the nether millstone.

"I had known Robert at College," I said--"had loved and respected him;
and had now come to pay him a visit, after an absence of several months,
wholly unprepared for finding him in his present condition." And it
would seem that my tears pled for me, and proved to the poor afflicted
woman and her daughter, by far the most efficient part of my apology.

"All my friends have left me now, Mr. Lindsay," said the unfortunate
poet--"they have all left me now; they love this present world. We were
all going down, down, down; there was the roll of a river behind us; it
came bursting over the high rocks, roaring, rolling, foaming down upon
us; and though the fog was thick and dark below--far below, in the place
to which we were going--I could see the red fire shining through--the
red, hot, unquenchable fire; and we were all going down, down, down.
Mother, mother, tell Mr. Lindsay I am going to be put on my trials
to-morrow. Careless creature that I am--life is short, and I have lost
muc