ged, but with an intelligent face, is seated on Seventeen's bed, spelling his way through a chapter in the bible. The steward has now been round on his tour of inspection; the sister has told him the funny sayings of the Irish boy; the "dressers medical students have attended to the minor operations of the ward; and at this moment the sister is putting on a smart new cap, for to-day is "doctor's day" and he is expected shortly. Presently he enters, with a troop of students at his heels, and as he walks from bed to bed an occasional scream or groan gives token that he is busy in his painful but salutary work, whilst the students crowd around, except that group of three, who are chatting about the forthcoming races at Epsom.

the light of the candle with its feeble glare in the spacious ward only reveals and increases the ghastliness of the corpse. A sudden call, and alas! it is to be feared that he was unprepared for it. Happily Three sleeps to soundly that he is undisturbed by the noise; and Five, though feeling a little uncomfortable at the thought of having a dead body so near him, falls asleep in time, and all is still again. In a few hours, the body having been attended to, a coffin-like box will be brought, the corpse slipped into it and hurried off.

Such is hospital life. Variations of course occur; the authorities vary their times of coming, or stay away altogether sometimes; and death only makes his visits occasionally, though seldom absent for many weeks. Hospitals are magnificent institutions, and are in many respects admirably conducted, and could women of piety be secured as sisters -and an adequate spiritual supervision provided for from ministers, scripture readers or others, they would be much better. May those who have influence in such matters see to them, for at present, though the ward of an hospital is a place where the body may be healed, it is often one where the soul is deeply tainted with that disease which is far more to be dreaded than any bodily ailment, however distressing.

It is all over now; dinner is past, and soon it will be time to admit the friends of the patients; Six is inquiring what o'clock it is, for he expects to see his wife to-day, and Fifteen is listen--and is it too much to hope for pious nurses too? ing for the reply, for he, poor little fellow, is hoping to see his mother, who, not having seen him since yesterday, seems to him to have been an age away. And now the clock has struck, and some faces are already brightened by the arrival of friends; a still and sorrowful female is seated at Four's bedside; and here a mother and her child are coming down the ward, with eager and anxious looks, to number Nine, who was carried in only an hour ago, having fallen from a scaffold; Six has just given his wife a kiss, which sounded all over the ward; and a merry group is collected round Eighteen, who is nearly well. The time for visitors has now passed rapidly to those who have had friends to see them; slowly, to those who have not; and poor little Fifteen is in tears because his mother has not been; Six is bidding his wife good-bye, who has already given him two farewell kisses, and is now giving him a third: and now all are gone.

Tea is over, the time for prayers is come, and the voice of the reader is sounding aloud these beautiful words: " Finally, we commend to thy fatherly goodness all those who are any ways afflicted or distressed, in mind, body, or estate, (especially those here present,) that it may please thee to comfort and relieve them according to their several necessities, giving them patience under their sufferings, and a happy issue out of all their afflictions." The sister has gone out for an evening walk, and now the time for a little uproar has begun. Little fellows ordered to keep their beds are skipping vigorously about; three or four are collected round that bed in the corner, listening to and telling marvellous stories about golden treasures, robbers, and other such things as excite boyish imaginations, and one or two of the older patients are indulging themselves with a song. Nurse occasionally scolds and threatens, but evidently enjoys herself the brief freedom from restraint.

Bedtime has now arrived; those who are up, retire; the resident physician and the house-surgeon have been their rounds; the night nurse has returned; and in a few hours all is still save the moaning of number Four, who seems restless and uneasy. It is now midnight; "night nurse" has dropped off into a comfortable but forbidden doze, when suddenly she is awoke by Five, who calls out that Four is worse. Sister is called; one of the medical men attached to the hospital is sent for, but too late, for after a few deep gasps the spirit leaves the wasted form, and

THE SPIDER-CATCHING FLY OF VAN
DIEMEN'S LAND.

THIS insect is about the size and figure of a wasp, but in colour resembling the domestic fly. Its habits are very singular. The spiders it captures with so much daring, are not intended for food for itself, but for its future progeny. The fly in the height of the summer season may be seen very busy on the moist banks of the river, collecting mud to form cells, which it constructs with great expedition. These cells are made to contain three or four spiders, most of them half as large as itself, which are closely packed, and immediately covered over, the cover of the first being the basis of the second, and so on in succession. It takes advantage of any chink in the wall, or niche in the angles of the doors or windows for its building purposes. I have not ascertained if the fly hunts singly or in couples, but one at least found its way up-stairs, or through the window of a bedroom, and constructed, before it was observed, a number of its clay cells on the chintz bed-curtain. When discovered, and the cells brushed down, the spiders covered the bottom of a dessert plate, and presented a beautiful appearance, being of all colours, and some as if richly enamelled, and quite perfect and as fresh as if alive, though evidently quite dead, for none of them revived on exposure to the air. This was the work of two or three days only. The spiders were all of the geometrical class, and were killed as soon as seized. On another occasion we found an italian iron filled up by them, as also an iron saucepan handle, and a dress that had been suspended on a nail, for a few days, had a large patch of their nests upon it. So soon as the cavity is filled up with fine plump spiders, an egg is deposited therein, and when duly hatched the grub has a sumptuous feast prepared.

every village, and the fearful truth burst on her as she saw the blazing valleys. Renee tried to pray, but she could only utter, 'Lord, be merciful!"- -a prayer most fitting for this world at all times, and especially then, for it was the bloody Easter of 1655. On that morning, about the time the disciples came to the sepulchre, "early while it was yet dark," a preconcerted signal flashed from the old church tower of Saint Mary, in the citadel of La Torre, and Pienaza's troops, distributed in every commune, village, and hamlet, rose on the people and homes that sheltered them, and one of the most treacherous and cruel massacres on record devastated the Waldensian country

Jaspar, were by his side in an instant, with their hunting-knives and rifles. Young Constant told them, in a few hurried words, how he and his companion had found the pass of Susa guarded by Piedmontese soldiers, whose orders were to turn back all travellers; how, in returning by the way of Saint Jovianno, they heard the uproar of slaughter, and saw the flames burst out along the valleys; how they fought their way through two burning hamlets, and sent the alarm across the hills, that all who could wield a weapon might hasten to the Pra del Torre, on which it was known the pikemen and halberdiers were advancing, as the key of the mountain country, and now the last hold of the Vaudois. There were woe and horror in the Shepherd's-rest that morning, as fugitives from all the valleys poured in. Some came in the silence of despair; some uttered frantic cries for wives and children, for aged parents and young sisters; and all came with tales that seemed enough to make the old rocks rise in vengeance; for there was no form of crime that had not been done in the valleys.

"Friends!" cried Victor, and his young voice rang clear above the tumult; "there is a witness on high who sees our wrongs this day, and will avenge them; but for the sake of the innocent blood shed, and for our mountain country, arm and follow me."

Down the rocks, and through the vineyards, Renee ran to tell her terrible discovery. Old Gaston stood in his cottage-porch, to see the sun rise over crag and glacier, as he had seen it for almost eighty years. In every dwelling the people were preparing for church; but at her report, young and old climbed as high as they could, and saw through the brightening day in all directions, nothing but burning villages. Readers, they at least saw not the horrors that made the pen drop from Leger's hand, when collecting evidence to lay before the Christian Princes; that made hard captains, used to battles and sieges, lay down their commissions and swear that they would never again serve where priests or their tools commanded. Fathers and mothers! brothers and sisters! to whom our The desperate men wanted but a leader. In a tale may come, by the hearths of British house- moment they had seized on every thing that could holds, these things are matter of history, and we be turned to a weapon-axes, crow-bars, instruwill not enter into the details which, according to a ments of husbandry; and those who could find no writer of the period, " harrowed up men's hearts better, broke down branches from the chestnut everywhere but in Rome." The destruction was trees. Then came the strong men of the mountains, so wide, the perfidy so unexampled, that the men wood-cutters, and charcoal-burners from the pine of the Shepherd's-rest came down from that sight forests, shepherds from the heaths, hunters from stunned and stupified, all but Humbert Renaud, the moors, and fiercest of them all, the herdsmen of who flew to the cottage for his arms. At the same Angrogna, who came down like wild creatures from instant, the signal horns were heard sounding their summer huts in the upland pastures, where throughout the hills. Hunters and shepherds they had seen the flames of their own village. were gathering from their mountain homes; fugi-Scenes of war and slaughter are what we would tives from the valleys were rallying; and down that green dell rushed a band of haggard men, with traces of blood and fire on hair and garments, one of whom shouted: "Arm, brothers! arm! and hurry down to the pass of the Pra; 'tis the only chance now for us and ours;" and as he spoke they knew him to be Victor Constant. The men of the valley, led by Humbert and his brother

The reader is referred to Monastier's "History of the

Vaudois," "Sketches of the Waldenses," "The Israel of the Alps," Gillies' "Vaudois Church," and other works, for a description of the enormities practised by the Roman Catholic soldiery on the peaceable Vaudois. Most willingly would we allow these outrages to remain in oblivion; but while we see it openly announced in leading Romish journals that they wait but the opportunity to put down Protestantism by persecution; and when we see an Italian power committing the Madiai to a dungeon, (merely for reading the scriptures with their neigh. bours,) and making offences against religion capital, it is our duty to recall to remembrance the truthful records of history, that we may know how to shape our own course as a nation. In reading the History of the Vaudois the book may well drop from the hand, when we read of peaceable men, women, and children tortured, dashed from precipices, roasted in ovens, imprisoned in dungeons, driven from hearth and home, and all this for no crime save that of holding a pure scriptural faith. We believe that many generous English Roman Catholies protest as heartily as ourselves against such cruelties; but in doing so, they are inconsistent with the tenets of their own leaders, and compel us to view them as at variance with the teachings of their church, and as men who are better than their system.

not willingly bring before the reader's mind; on the contrary, we fervently desire that the hour may come when peace, like the gentle dove, shall settle permanently amongst the children of men; but our duty, following the stream of history on this occasion, is to record facts.

Victor approached Renee, who leant against the rock. "Listen," he said, speaking low, for they had great trust in each other. "Gather the women to us. They could reach this place, though the and children as quickly as you can, and come down way is long across the mountains. Bid them bring all the provisions and ammunition they can collect, for we are miserably provided to stand a siege."

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"It is God's cause, brother," said Renee; 'fear not for us, but trust in Him, and do valiantly as our dead father would have done. We will all be with you before the evening falls."

grasp

The brother and sister parted with the of each other's hand and words of calm courage, as the peasant troop poured down the mountain, and not a man but old Gaston was left in the Shepherd'srest. Fathers, husbands, brothers, all were gone, and none had sought to detain them. In that hour of trial, the strength of the mountain hearts and faith was proved, and the parting watchword was, "Stand fast for God and us."

Meanwhile, Louisin had wondered what detained Renee. She saw strange people pass, and heard confused sounds from the valley. Willingly would she have gone to learn what they meant; but old Marietta, besides her Alpine superstition, which forbade leaving the dead alone, was by this time so distracted with terror, that she could neither move herself nor let Louisin go, and clung to the young girl's clothes, weeping, praying, and even offering to turn a Vaudois on the spot if she would only stay.

'Dear Marietta," said Louisin, "I will not go, and I don't want you to turn a Vaudois, except you know our faith and believe it. Meanwhile, you and I may say the Lord's prayer; what your people call the pater-noster."

That was the only ground on which their souls could meet; the prayer in whose simple wisdom all churches have agreed and all ages found utterance. Slowly they repeated each petition; the calm voice of the intelligent girl (mingling with that of the old and terror-stricken woman. Neither observed, in the growing tumult without, that one had entered and bent over the dead. It was Gueslin Rosa. The woe he would not believe in had come, but the fountains of his grief seemed frozen. He went down unperceived, took his father's arms from the mantelpiece of the great chamber, where he had kept them bright for many a year, and when Louisin saw him by her side he was fastening them to his girdle. Marietta would have cried out for instant explanation, but the man's calm face silenced her.

and half granite, but known to be older than any university in Europe; a church of pine logs, erected when Claude was bishop of Turin, in the eighth century; and a cemetery, which contained inscriptions in the old Romance languages. The Romish peasantry had a prejudice against settling in that valley. The preaching friars passed by it, and Vaudois families preferred a less secluded situation; but the quiet that lay on its guardian rocks made old and weary people, with whom life had gone hard, go there to spend the remnant of their days, beside the school of the Barbes. Vineyards, fields, and antiquated cottages surrounded that edifice. Barbes and all were maintained by the labour of their own hands, but in peaceful ages the inhabitants were few. Now all who by chance or speed escaped from the neighbouring valleys, fled for refuge to the Pra; some sore wounded, some carrying disabled friends or young children, and many maddened by the sights they had seen.

To protect this miserable remnant, as well as keep their own hamlets safe, was the object of the mountain band. They knew that the soldiers would be on them as soon as their wicked work was done, for the priests had been heard proclaiming among them that it was Pienaza's intention to destroy the heretics utterly. Against the overwhelming force they could have no chance without repairing the bastion on the Angrogna slope. Victor saw this, and in a moment took measures that might have done credit to an experienced general. He posted sentinels from his own troop on the surrounding rocks, to look out for the enemy and direct the fu"They have burned the villages and are march-gitives; while by his example and exhortations, he ing on the mountains. Louisin, I am going to fight for your people and our valley at the pass of the Pra. Lay my mother among the vines and come quickly to us, for there is no safety here." Once more he stooped, kissed the pale, cold brow of his departed parent, looked earnestly on Louisin, and hurried down the mountain to Victor's company.

No one noticed him, for the haste of that gathering was great. The signal fires and horns summoned hands from every pass and ravine to swell the little army; men grey with seventy winters, boys who had not known fifteen; and three hours' rapid marching brought them to the Pra.

The Pra del Torre is still a grassy valley, encircled by steep rocks from three to seven hundred feet in height. Their summits form a zone-like and rugged ridge between it and the surrounding Alps; here shooting up in tall grey peaks, there scooped into huge hollows; but nowhere can a human foot find entrance except in the direction of La Torre, where a mountain stream, swollen at times to a torrent, shoots through a narrow gorge in that rocky girdle, known as the Pass of the Pra. On the Angrogna side, where the mountains retreat, leaving a wide glen between them, the rocks for some hundred yards have a rough alope down which sure-footed men might make their Way. At the period of our story this valley had been the citadel of the Vaudois through ages of fear and fighting. The mountain people entrenched there in 1560, defied the whole power of France and Savoy, and the ruins of their ponderous bastion were yet on the rocky slope. The ancient school of the Barbes was there; a rustic edifice, half timber

set every hand that could raise stones or carry earth to work on the bastion. The evil times had scattered the Barbes on various missions, and many were in the prisons of Turin; only two remained in the school. They were brothers and men of great learning, but they stood forth like true shepherds, praying aloud while they laboured with their people: "O Lord, make speed to help us, for there is none that fighteth for us but only thou, O God.”

Man, woman, and child were toiling on the bastion, when suddenly the sentinel above the pass blew on his mountain horn a signal that the enemy were in sight.

"Who will stand and keep the pass with me?" cried Victor, as he sprung into the gorge. There was speedily another by his side. "Is it you, Gueslin?" he cried.

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"I will accompany you," said young Rosa; "my mother is dead, and there is no one to miss me.'

His voice was drowned in a hoarse cheer of "Saint Denis for ever!" as the French halberdiers charged on the pass; but with it mingled the report of the two young men's rifles, followed by those of Humbert and Carlo over their companions' shoulders. For more than twenty minutes did the young men of the Shepherd's-rest thus keep five hundred halberdiers at bay, the four firing while Phillibert and Jaspar loaded the rifles. Only two abreast could enter the gorge, and they never allowed one to come within rifle range. There were not four better marksmen in the Alps.

These facts are in strict unison with history.

The balls which their adversaries fired from a dis- | families in full march, under the conduct of Renee tance rang on the sheltering rocks and fell spent and Gaston. among them; but every bullet of theirs told with deadly effect. At last the trumpet sounded a parley, and an officer with a white flag in his hand advanced. It was a bold step, for the four rifles were levelled; but the young men, to their surprise, at once recognised the very individual whom they had rescued from the precipice a month before.

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It had been a weary and anxious day with the mountain women, but they saw the signal fires from the Pra, and knew that all was well. They had laid Gueslin's mother, as he directed, among the vines, with thanksgiving for the light that rose so late on her darkness. Louisin planted on the grave a young oak tree, which her people regarded as an emblem of faith and immortality; then, with The noble Marquis Pienaza," he cried, in a loud as many of their flocks as might be useful, with voice, "bids me say, that if you surrender, your their young children and household goods, carefully lives and properties will be respected. I have not gathered, they took their way down the mountain. forgotten the kindness of your family, however," he The poor sheep and cows remaining, were turned added, in a deep whisper. "Never leave the pass out to find their food among the heaths and pasunguarded a moment, and look well to your bas-ture, where the Angrogna cattle went wild for tion. If you abandon it, there will not be a living many a year. The scattered homes were shut up, man left among you." and the men worked in the neighbouring forests, keeping guard, and hewing by turns for timber to build huts, with which the valley was soon covered. Ah! who shall sum up the amount of guilt involved in a war like this, when violence and rapine are let loose on an unoffending people, and all the happiness of domestic life broken up! Rome! Rome! thy transgressions are of scarlet dye!

"Tell the marquis," said Victor, commanding his own surprise, "that we know him to be a base and perjured traitor, as men of all future times will call him, when the cruelty and bloodshed of this day will be required at his hands; and tell him also, that we will perish piecemeal where we stand, before he or his shall set foot within this valley."

The officer made him an approving sign, and said still louder as he retired:-" Since you will not accept the terms, you must abide the consequences."

He was answered by a shout of defiance from the mountain men, now ranged rank behind rank in the pass. The French troops were preparing for another attack, when the rest of the Vaudois, with the old war-cry of their people, "Truth and the mountains," dashed forward. They were but a handful compared with their enemies, but the valour of the hills and the might of faith were there; and the soldiers, thrown into confusion by their unexpected onset, gave way and fled along the rocky defiles, pursued by the peasant warriors almost to the plain.

The poor Vaudois, grateful for their deliverance from the horrors to which the success of their opponents would have exposed them, gave God thanks for their signal triumphs, while they strengthened their bastion-a mound so broad and high that it was visible at Lucerna. They also agreed among themselves that they should have two stout captains; and by common consent Victor was appointed to the command of the pass, and Humbert to that of the bastion.

In making war on the Waldenses, perfidy was generally relied on rather than military tactics. Pienaza was no general, and his ruffianly troops were by no means remarkable for courage. They did not care to face the mountain marksmen among their native rocks. The glen was accordingly soon cleared of the Savoyards, while Count Saint Denis contented himself with rallying the halberdiers and leading them off in good order. Weary and defeated, the soldiers retired to bivouac on the banks of the Pélice. Masters now of the valley's vicinity, Victor and Humbert planted sentinels throughout the glen and the defiles, kindled signal fires along the foot of the mountains; and though the path to the Shepherd's-rest had not been threatened, Victor was right glad when he went up with a small escort at sunset to meet the hill

Day after day the attacks were renewed, but always repelled; the peasant warriors gained ground, but it required incessant vigilance to guard the exposed points; their ammunition too was scarce, and provisions very limited, and in this time of distress their bread was in common. Pienaza's troops having wasted the country, were now obliged to bring their supplies from the plain of Piedmont. Victor and his band were considering the possibility of surprising a convoy, when unexpected and siugular assistance was given to their cause.

EDINBURGH FIFTY YEARS AGO. LORD Cockburn, one of the few survivors of the period he describes, has thus picturesquely painted the state of society in the Scottish metropolis at the commencement of the present century :

The society of Edinburgh was not that of a provincial town, and cannot be judged of by any such standard. It was metropolitan. Trade or manufactures have, fortunately, never marked this city for their own. But it is honoured by the presence of a college famous throughout the world; and from which the world has been supplied with many of the distinguished men who have shone in it. It is the seat of the supreme courts of justice, and of the annual convocation of the churchformerly no small matter-and of almost all the government offices and influence. At the period I am referring to, this combination of quiet with aristocracy, made it the resort, to a far greater extent than it is now, of the families of the gentry, who used to leave their country resi dences and enjoy the pleasures which their presence tended to promote. Many of the curious characters and habits of the preceding age, the last purely Scotch age that Scotland was destined to see, still lingered among us. Several were then to be met with who had seen the Pretender, with his court and his wild followers, in the palace of Holyrood, Almost the whole official state, as