that the fairies could not enter, was in general considered sufficient, as it is at the present day in many remote parts. In Edinburgh, during the time of the plague, the greatest indifference to security of this sort prevailed. In general, the doors were left unlocked from within, in order to admit the cleansers, or any charitable neighbour who might come to minister to the bedrid sick. This was not exactly the case in Sir John Smith's house; for the main door was scrupulously locked, with a view to the safety of the goods committed to his charge. Nevertheless, from neglect, or from want of apprehension, the posterior entrance was afterwards found to have been not so well secured.

The Barbary physician had administered a potion to his patient soon after his admission into the house. He knew that symptoms either favourable or unfavourable would speedily appear, and he therefore resolved to remain in the room, in order to watch the result. About midnight, as he sat in a remote corner of the room, looking towards the bed upon which his charge was extended, while a small lamp burned upon a low table between, he was suddenly surprised to observe something like a dark cloud, unaccompanied by any noise, interpose itself slowly and gradually between his eyes and the bed. He at first thought that he was deceived that he was beginning to fall asleep-or that the strange appearance was occasioned by some peculiarity of the light, which, being placed almost directly between him and the bed, caused him to see the latter object very indistinctly. He was soon undeceived by hearing a noise the slightest possible and perceiving something like motion in the ill-defined lineaments of the apparition. Gracious Heaven! thought he, can this be the Angel of Death hovering over his victim, preparing to strike the mortal blow, and ready to receive the departing soul into the inconceivable recesses of its awful form? It almost appeared as if the cloud stooped over the bed for the performance of this task. Presently, the patient uttered a half-suppressed sigh, and then altogether ceased the

regular respirations, which had hitherto been monotonous and audible throughout the room. The awestruck attendant could contain himself no longer, but permitted a sort of cry to escape him, and started to his feet. The cloud instantly, as it were, rose from its inclined posture over the bed, turned hastily round, and, in a moment contracting itself into a human shape, glided softly but hastily from the apartment. Ha! thought the African, I have known such personages as this in Aleppo. These angels of death are sometimes found to be mortals themselves: I shall pursue and try. He therefore quickly followed the phantom through the private door by which it had escaped, not forgetting to seize his semicircular sword in passing the table where it lay. The stair was dark and steep, but he kept his feet till he reached the bottom. Casting, then, a hasty glance around him, he perceived a shadow vanish from the moonlit ground, at an angle of the house, and instantly started forward in the pursuit. He soon found himself in the open wynd above mentioned, along which he supposed the mysterious object to have gone. All here was dark: but being certain of the course adopted by the pursued party, he did not hesitate a moment in plunging headlong down its steep profundity. He was confirmed in his purpose by immediately afterwards observing, at some distance in advance, a small jet of moonlight, proceeding from a side alley, obscured for a second by what he conceived to be the transit of a large dark object. This he soon also reached, and finding that his own person caused a similar obscurity, he was confirmed in his conjecture that the apparition bore a substantial form. Still forward and downward he boldly rushed, till, reaching an open area at the bottom, part of which was lighted by the moon, he plainly saw, at the distance of about thirty yards in advance of him, the figure as of a tall man, loosely enveloped in a prodigious cloak, gliding along the ground, and apparently making for a small bridge, which at this particular place crossed the drain of the North Loch, and served as a communication with the village

called Mutries Hill. He made directly for the fugitive, thinking to overtake him almost before he could reach the bridge. But what was his surprise, when, in a moment, the flying object vanished from his sight, as if it had sunk into the ground, and left him alone and objectless in his headlong pursuit. It was possible that it had fallen into some concealed well or pit, but this he was never able to discover. Bewildered and confused, he at length returned to the provost's house, and re-entered the apartment of the sick maiden. To his delight and astonishment, he found her already in a state of visible convalescence, with a gradually deepening glow of health diffusing itself over her cheek. Whether his courage and fidelity had been the means of scaring away the evil demon, it is impossible to say; but certain it is, that the ravages of the plague began soon afterwards to decline in Edinburgh, and at length died away altogether.

The conclusion of this singular traditionary story bears, that the provost's daughter, being completely restored to health, was married to the foreigner who had saved her life. This seems to have been the result of an affection which they had conceived for each other during the period of her convalescence. The African, becoming joint-heir with his wife of the provost's vast property, abandoned his former piratical life; became, it is said, a douce Presbyterian; and settled down for the remainder of his days in Edinburgh. The match turned out exceedingly well; and it is even said that the foreigner became so assimilated with the people of Edinburgh, to whom he had proved so memorable a benefactor, that he held at one time an office of considerable civic dignity and importance. Certain it is, that he built for his residence a magnificent land near the head of the Canongate, upon the front of which he caused to be erected a statue of the emperor of Barbary, in testimony of the respect he still cherished for his native country; and this memorial yet remains in its original niche, as a subsidiary proof of the verity of the above relation,

VICTIM S.

VICTIMS are persons who have dropped out of the ranks of society, and become a prey to fortune. There are tasks which philosophers apply to, less worthy of them than might be an inquiry into the various causes which degrade men from their place in society. Some are vicious and imprudent, which of course are causes of very direct operation; but there is also an immense number whose decline is strictly the effect of that for which they cannot be blamed. want of the intellect and courage necessary for the place to which they were born. A certain quality, called by the common world softness, but which a metaphysician would trace to weak judgment, excessive kindness of disposition, and want of ambition and self-love, brings about a great number of bankruptcies in the mercantile world, and causes many a youth to forfeit commissions and appointments obtained for him by friends, even where there has been little to find fault with in the moral life. We must remember that this is a very artificial kind of world which prevails now-a-days: every individual is not to be expected to be suitable for a system. In the pastoral stage, all can make a certain livelihood, for all can tend sheep and cattle; but all are not calculated to adapt themselves to the many nice requirements of a mechanical era, such as is now passing. Hence victims are in some measure an unavoidable result of our social condition. The men, baffled in one thing, might go a step lower and try another; but we very well know that all men cannot do so, however much they ought.

There is, nevertheless, generally an element of bad conduct in the lives of victims. If their first decline is not the result of any such cause, they are sure to go wrong in some way before they are allowed by friends to attain the ripeness of the character. And for such errant

behaviour there is usually but too much temptation or stimulus in the unpleasant circumstances in which they are placed. Friends, too, perhaps, are not always sufficiently forbearing. It is, unluckily, so very easy to pick holes in the doublets of unfortunate men. A rejected advice is enough to set off a rich uncle any day. Others, it must be owned, are more lenient, and stick longer. Still, one way or another, men out of suits with fortune are extremely apt to be thrown off the right balance. And it is only then that victimhood commences, or can commence. So long as there is self-respect, it may be considered as almost impossible. This recalls to mind that married men are far less liable to victimisation than single. The wife is a conservative being. A family system goes on by its greater weight, where a bachelor's establishment stands still. There is more to struggle for against misfortune, and considerations of wife and small children bring many well-wishers and supporters. Ergo, a married man must be a considerably worse man before he victimises than a single one needs to be.

After the first decided step towards disrespectability, the incipient victim may for some time keep up appearances in a small degree. He may venture to appear on the principal thoroughfares in the evening, or in a crowd going to church; and if you meet him, he shakes you off a remarkably good-humoured nod from one side of his head, as if there had been nothing the matter with him. But by and by, this last shred of privilege leaves him, and he becomes condemned to the back streets and the shabbiest parts of the town. He is now found wearing white hats when all other people are wearing black ones, indulging in obsolete fashions of coats, and adopting a strange habit of carrying one of his gloves in his hand, even in cold weather. In time, the apparel gets worn-threadbare-slit-torn-patched-darned-let ink, thread, and judicious arrangement of person, do their best. begins to wear a suspicious amount of whity - brown linen in the way of cravat. Collars fail. Frills retire. The vest is closed to the uppermost button, or even

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