is finished; though short my span of life, and few my days, yet count my crimes for years, and I have lived whole ages. Justice and mercy are in heaven the same; its utmost severity is mercy to the whole, thereby to cure man's folly and presumption, which else would render even intinite mercy vain and ineffectual. Thus justice, in compassion to mankind, cuts off a wretch like me, by one such example to secure thousands from future

rain.

If any youth, like you, in future times,
Shall mourn my fate, though he abhor my crimes;
Or tender maid, like you, my tale shall hear,
And to my sorrows give a pitying tear:
To each such me ting eye, and throbbing heart,
Would gracious heaven this benefit impart,
Never to know my guilt, nor feel my pain,
Then must you own you ought not to complain;
Since you nor weep, nor shall I die in vain.

[Exeunt

Willie. Traveller to Glasco', maister.

Rob. Landleddy, let us have your best, and quickly too.

Host. Troth will I, sir; ye'll be for a dram, nae doubt, till we can toss up something het for yer late dinner.

[Exit Hostess. Owen places a small saddle-bag on the table, and sinks into a chair, evidently greatly fatigued.

Owen. Ch, my poor bones! the firm of my constitution has been worse shaken than the great house of Osbaldistone and Co., Crane Alley, London.

Hostess re-enters, and places liquor and glasses on the

table.

Young man, have you sent my message to the hall, hard by.

(Rob Roy pours out, and Owen drinks.) Willie. Ay, sir, and the lassie will sune be back wi' the answer,

[Exit. Rob. Well, fellow-traveller, how does our Scotch whisky agree with your English Stomach?

Owen. Thank you, sir, thank you-it cheers the body, but it cannot raise the spirit. I'm quite below par, as we say in the city.

Rob. Try it again, man.

Owen. I hope Mr. Francis Osbaldistone will make haste-yet I have a sad tale to tell him.

Rob. Osbaldistone! I know something of that family, sir, and if there's anything I can serve you in, you may command me.

Owen. You are very kind, sir, but is is far beyond your help.

Rob. Perhaps not. Will you trust me with the matter?

Owen. Surely I will, sir. The affairs of the great commercial and banking house of Osbaldistone and Co., Crane Alley, London, are no secret by this time. All public as the Gazette. That I should live to see it and to say it! Oh dear!

Rob. Come, come, there's nought so bad but what it may be mended. Let's hear the business that brings you to the Hall.

Owen. It's a long account, sir; but I'll sum it up by the shortest rules. You must know, sir, my name is Owen. I am head clerk and junior partner of the house of Osbaldistone and Co., Crane Alley, London; and I am now on my way to Glasgow, to recover certain papers which have been takenstolen, I'm afraid, in the absence of the head of the

firm.

Rob. Stolen! by whom!

Oren. By his nephew, Mr. Rashleigh.

Rob. Rashleigh! I know I remember, the son of Sir Hil ebrand, late of the Hall here.

Owen. The same, sir. Sir Hildebrand and the rest of his sons are taken up on suspicion of treasonable practices. It's an awful balance they have to strike.

Rob. But how happened it that this son, this Mr. Francis you talk of, was not left in charge of his father's affairs, rather than the nephew, Rashleigh?

Owen. Ah, sir, there lies all the mischief! Mr.

Rob. Well, sir; but what motive could induce this Rashleigh to betray a trust which, for his own interest, one would naturally suppose he would be most faithful to?

Owen I suspect, to aid some political purpose, whereby, at the expense of honour and conscience, he expects to make a larger per centage of worldly profit. He knew that to shake the house of Osbaldistone and Co., Crane Alley, London, was to alarm the government. The cash he took was no hurt; but the assets-the assets, sir; however, I'll not give them up, for I know Rashleigh has come north.

Rob. (aside.) North, indeed! Umph! he's a cunning chield that-he'll be too cunuing for himself at last, I fear. A false friend, Mr. Owen, never yet served a good cause.

Owen. You say true, sir, such people are as variable as the course of exchange. But when we reach Glasgow, sir, perhaps you can assist my inquiries.

Rob. I-I'll meet you there, Mr. Owen. I just recollect a small matter of business that I have to do in this neighbourhood. (Aside.) I must go to the Hall: Rashleigh has been there, no doubt; and Sir Frederick Vernon may wish to speak with me. I'll meet you at Glasgow, Mr. Owen.

Owen. Heaven help me! I shall never live to balance an account there, without a companion or guide. I was never ten miles from Crane Alley before in all my days.

Rob. Pho, man! there is nothing to fear. Where shall I hear of you?

Owen. At Messrs. Maevittie and MacFin's, in the Gallowgate, sir. We have another agent, one Mr. Nicol Jarvie, in the Saltmarket, but I can't depend upon him.

Rob. Fare ye well, Mr. Owen-Rashleigh in the north! then the heather will soon be on fire (Aside, and going up.)

Enter WILLIE.

Willie. Here's the squire to speak wi' ane Mr. Owen.

Enter FRANCIS OSBALDISTONE-after he enters ROB ROY exits hastily, unperccived by him. Francis. Owen, my excellent, kind friend! Owen. O, Mr. Frank! O, Mr. Osbaldistone! such news! (wiping his eyes.) But why did you never answer our letters-mine and your good father's?

Francis Letters! I have never yet received one. I have written repeatedly, and have been astonished at receiving no reply.

Owen. O, Lord! no letters! O, my stars! no letters! then they have been intercepted. How has your poor father heen deceived! O, Mr. Francis, what have you not to answer for? But that's past now-it's all over!

Francis. Good Heaven! my father, he is illdead?

Owen. No, no, not so bad as that! thank Heaven, his day book is still open, but his affairs are in worse confusion than my poor brain-oh, dear!

Francis. Explain yourself, I beseech you, and in terms less technical.

Owen. Well, well, the sum total is, that your

cousin Rashleigh, taking advantage of my good | master's absence in Holland, has absconded with papers of such consequence to ourselves and the government, that unless we can recover them, or get help from our agents by a certain day, the house of Osbaldistone and Co., Crane-alley, London, is in the bankrupt list as sure as the Gazette!

Francis. Gracious Heaven! my folly and disobedience then have ruined my father! Tell me, how shall I redeem the consequence of my error?

Owen. Oh, Mr. Frank, you raise my heart ten per cent. to hear you talk in that way. Repair to Glasgow, and assist my poor endeavours. Though you understand little, I grieve to say, of debtor and creditor, you thorou.hly understand, I rejoice to tell it, the great fundamental principle of all moral accounting-the great ethic rule of three-let A do to B as he would have B do to him, and the product will give the rule of conduct required.

Francis. It shall, it must be so this very hour I'll bid adieu to the enchantress, who still must rule my destiny, and seek this destroyer, this traitor, Rashleigh! Set forward, Owen, instantly- by the time you have made the necessary inquiries at Glasgow, I shall be with you. Oh, Diana! must we then part?

Owen. Diana! Ah, love, love! I thought sonever knew a man open an account with him, but his affairs got into confusion. I never had any dealings with him in all my life. It's more dangerous, Mr. Francis, than meddling with contraband goods: But I've heard of the consignment-to Miss Diana Vernon, best affections! Item, heart! Item, honour! Item-Oh, Mr. Francis, look at the per contra-blank! ruin! Oh, dear!

[Exit. Francis. Yes, for a while we must separate; yet I cannot cease to love cannot live without her.

SONG.-BY BURNS.

Air. Low Down in the Broom."

O my love's like the red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O my love's like the melody,
That's sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonny luss,
So deep in love am I;

And I will love thee still, my dear,
Tho' a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And rocks melt wi' the sun;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run.
But fare thee weel, my only love,
And fare thee wel awhile!
And I will come again, my lore,
Tho' 'twere ten thousand m.le.

pose on the weak minds of the domestics, his penetration may discover who and what I am before the plans are matured on which my future happiness now entirely rest.

Diana. Rely on my discretion, sir! you may with safety.

Martha. (Advancing with a cloak, resembling that of a Catholic priest, and giving it to Sir Frederick.) Indeed, Sir Frederick - I beg pardon, father Vaughan, I mean your reverence has nothing to fear, though you are a Catholic and Jacobite. There is not a soul in the place, myself excepted, that dare stir a foot towards this part of the hous after nightfall.

Sir F. I repeat, it is not from them I fear detec tion; the character I openly bear, of confessor to Miss Vernon, is a sufficient security; but remember, Diana, Francis Osbaldistone and his father are firm adherents of the present government; and should he discover me, or the purpose which renders my concealment in this part of the country necessary, it might be fatal to the cause of Scotland and ourselves.

Diana. But my cousin is a man of honourable and affectionate feelings; he would never betray you, sir.

Sir F. You mean he would never sacrifice his love in the person of Dana Vernon. Subdue those reflections, my child, for the sake of your fu ture peace of mind-annihilate them, while it is yet in your power-thin that you are devoted to a cloister, or the betrothed bride of Rashleigh Osbaldistone. [Exit at a tapestry panel. Diana. You may leave now, Martha. When my cousin Francis arrives, say I wish to speak with him here.

[Exit.

The bride of Rashleigh! never, never! any lot rather than that-the convent, the jail, the grave! I must act as becomes the descendant of a noble ancestry. Yet how preferable is the lot of those whose birth and situation neither renders them meanly dependent, nor raises the n to the difficulties and dangers which too often accompany wealth and grandeur.

(Sng introduced.) Enter MARTHA, introducing FRANCIS OSBALDISTONE, and exit.

Francis. Diana, you sent for me.

Diana. Yes, Frank, it was to bid you farewell. Suppress your amazement while I tell you that I ain acquainted with the distresses which the treachery of Rashleigh has brought upon your father.

Francis. How, in the name of Heaven! since but within these few minutes I myself was in formed?

Diana. Ask me no questions. I have it not in my power to reply to them. Fate has involved me in such a series of nets and entanglements, that I dare hardly speak a word, for fear of consequences. You must meet, and obviate the difficulties this

b.ow bas occasioned.

Francis. And how is that possible?

Diana. Everything is possible to him that possesses courage and activity.

Francis. What do yon advise?

Diana. Quit this place instantly, and for ever!
Francis. Dianu!

Diana. You have only one friend to regret, and she has long been accustomed to sacrifice ber

friendships and comforts to the welfare of others. Repair instantly to Glasgow.

Wylie. Maister Owen, the head clerk and junior partner, has been at our house wi' the news, an' begging for time to tak' up the bills.

Bailie. Owen! I remember-he's a man o' figures

Diana. Stay!-Yes, I will insist upon it. Do not leave this room till I return.

[Exit. Francis. She has then a confederate, a friendperhaps a lover! Everything confirms it-the light from these windows which I have seen at unusual times-the footsteps which 1 have traced in the morning's dew, from the private entrance to the apartment beneath this library-the report, too, of apparitions-a thousand circumstances tend to confirm my suspicions. But she comes.

Re-enter DIANA, with a packet.

Diana. Frank, I trust you with this proof of my friendship, because I have the most perfect confidence in your honour. If I understand the nature of this business rightly, the funds in Rashleigh's possession must be recovered by a certain day; take this packet, but do not open it till all other means fail. Ten days before the bills are due, you are at liberty to break the seal.

Francis. It has no superscription.

Diana. If you are compelled to open it, you will find directions enclosed.

Francis. And now, Diana, after the mysterious but kind interest you have shown to my worldly cares, relieve my heart, by explaining

Diana. I can explain nothing. Oh, Frank! we are now to part, perhaps never to meet more; do not, then, make my mysterious miseries embitter the last moments we may pass together. In the world, away from me, you may find a being less encumbered by unhappy appearances, less influenced by evil fortunes, and evil times.

Francis. Never, never! the world can afford me nothing to repay the loss of her I must leave behind

me now in sorthees row.

Tho'
Smiles may light our loves to-morrow.
Doom'd to part! my faithful heart,
A gleam of joy from hope shall borrow.
Ah! ne'er forget when friends are near,

This heart alone is thine,

Thou may'st find those will

But not a love like mine,

for ever. Diana. love thee dear, Diana. O never. Tho' you leave, &c. [Exeunt. SCENE III-A Room in Bailie Nicol Jarvie's House in Glasgow.

Enter BAILIE and WYLIE.

Bailie. My conscience! I tell ye, Saunders, ye're daft-ye're mad! Osbaldistone and Co. in danger! It's no possible!

Wylie. It's very true, Bailie, and I thought it but right to let you, my auld master, ken o't.

Bailie. Troth, Saunders, ye've stunned me wi' the il communication. Osbaldistone and Co. fail? Stop!-My conscience! Mattie!

(Calling off.)

my soul, it's no far aff! But what for did he no ca' upon Nicol Jarvie? I'm a merchant an' a magistrate, as weel as Mac Vittie; but he thinks nae mair o' me, I reckon, than o' an auld Scotch pedlar. Mattie, Mattie, Mattie !

Enter MATTIE.

Tell the clerk to bring the ledger.

Mattie. The clerk! Lord, Bailie! he's safe in his bed these twa hours.

Bailie. A-bed, the lazy blackguard! Then fetch it yoursel', Mattie.

Mattie. I'se do your bidding, Bailie.

[Exit.

Bailie. My conscience! I havena had sican a shock since my worthy faither, the Deacon, (peace be wi' him) left me to fecht my way alane in this wicked warld. But what says Mac Vittie-will he grant the time?

Wylie. No a day, Mr. Jarvię-no an hour. Things look sae bad, I fear my employers mean to resort to the severest measures. I heard them talk o' arresting Maister Owen; so you had best look to yourser.

Enter MATTIE with the ledger.

Bailie. Look to mysel'! let me look at the ledger first (putting on his spectacles, and opening it eagerly.) L-M-N-O-Os-Osbal-as I'm a Bailie, the balance maun be enormous-but I havena the heart to run it up noo (returning the ledger to Mattie). How muckle is Mac Vittie in wi' him, Saunders? Wylie. I canna justly say, Bailie; but some hundreds.

Bailie. Hundreds! only hundreds! Damn their supple snouts! And would they oppress a fa'ing man for the sake o' hundreds-they that hae made thoosands by him? Your maisters, Saunders Wylie, hae taen mony a gude fat job frae between my teeth; but I'll snap them this turn-I'll snap them this turn!

Wylie. I wish you could, Bailie-I wish you could Ah! I made a sair change when I left you to serve twa sic infernal

Bailie. Whist! Saunders, whist! while you eat their bread, dinna abuse the dam'd scoundrels ahint their backs.

Wylie. Ye've a kind heart, Mr. Jarvie, and an honest ane too.

Bailie. My conscience! so had my worthy faither the Deacon, Saunders-rest and bless him!

Wylie. Wad ye be pleased to consult on this business wi' our partners, sir?

Bailie. No; I'll see them baith damn'd first-My conscience! that is, a man that meddles wi' pitch is sure to be defiled. I'd sooner haud a parley wi' Auld Clootie! Na, na; Nichol Jarvie has a way o' his ain to manage this matter. Gang your ways, Mattie, wi' that huge memorial o' misfortunes, and bring my walking gear, an' the lantern. [Exit Mattie.

As for you, Saunders, speed ye hame again, an' no a word that ye hae seen me.

[Exit Wylie.

Osbaldistone and Co., stop! My conscience! I'd sooner hae dreamed o' the dounfa' o' the Bank o' Lunnon! Why, it's eneugh to gar the very hairs o' my wig rise, an' stand on end! But the distress cannot be permanent. At ony rate I'se prove