hestra,' and who were reconnoitering the
house. Presently a small bell was rung, with a jerk. There was a flourish
or two from 'the orchestra;' another tinkle of the bell; and up rose the
faded drapery. An interval of a moment succeeded, during which half of a
large mountain was removed from the scenery, and a piece of forest shoved
up to the ambitious wood that had been aspiring to overtop the Alps. At
length a young lady, whom I had just seen butchered in a most horrid
manner by a villain, came from the side of the stage with a smile, which,
while it displayed her white teeth, wrought the rouge upon her face into
very perceptible corrugations, and made a lowly courtesy. She walked with
measured step three or four times across the stage, in the full blaze of
the flaring candles, smiling again, and hemming, to clear her voice.
Presently a perfect stillness prevailed; 'awed Consumption checked his
chided cough;' every urchin suspended his cat-call; and 'the boldest held
his breath for a time.' Our vocalist looked at the leader of the orchestra
and his fellow-fiddlers, and commenced, in harmony with their instruments.
How touching was that song! I shall never have my soul so enrapt again.
That _freshness_ of young admiration possessed my spirit which can come
but once. The air was '_The Braes of Balquither_,' a charming melody,
meetly wedded to the noble lines of TANNEHILL; and enthusiasm was at its
height when the singer had concluded the following stanza, almost sublime
in its picturesque beauty:

'When the rude wintry wind wildly raves round our dwelling,
And the roar of the lion on the night-breeze is swelling,
Then so merrily we'll sing, while the storm rattles o'er us,
Till the dear shealing ring with the light-lilting chorus!'

The air was old as the hills, but like all Scottish melodies, as lasting
too. To every body the songs of Scotland are grateful; and the universal
attachment to them arises from their beautiful simplicity, deep pathos,
and unaffected, untrammelled melody. The romantic sway of the songs of
Scotland over her sons when 'far awa' is to me no marvel. If they possess
the power to thrill or to subdue the hearts of those who have never
stepped upon the soil of that glorious country, is it at all surprising
that they should exert a powerful influence over the native-born, who
associate those airs with the purple heath, the blue loch, the hazy
mountain-top, and the valley sleeping below?

'