the coffin was placed on the very bed where they had slept
two nights ago. The plate gleamed from the shadowy recess, and the
words--"Philips Grey, aged 23," were distinctly visible. While James was
reflecting on the prophetic vision of his brother, a figure, arrayed in
white garments, entered the room and moved towards the dead body. It was
poor Marion.

She slowly lifted the lid of the coffin, and gazed long and intently on
the features of her dead husband. Then, turning round to James, she
uttered a short shrill shriek, and fell backwards on the corpse. She
hovered between life and death for a few days, and at length expired.
She now lies by the side of her lover, in the solitary burial ground of
St. Mary's.

Such is the event which combines, with others not less dark and
terrible, to throw a wild interest around those gloomy rocks. Many a
time you will hear the story from the inhabitants of those hills; and,
until fretted away by the wind and rain, the plaid and the bonnet of the
unfortunate Philips Grey hung upon the splintered precipice to attest
the truth of the tale.

DONALD GORM.

In a remote corner of Assynt, one of the most remote and savage
districts in the Highlands of Scotland, there is a certain wild and
romantic glen, called Eddernahulish. In the picturesqueness of this
glen, however, neither wood nor rock has any share; and, although it may
be difficult to conceive of any place possessing that character without
these ordinary adjuncts, it is, nevertheless, true, that Eddernahulish,
with neither tree nor precipice, is yet strikingly picturesque. The wide
sweep of the heath-clad hills whose gradual descents form the spacious
glen, and the broad and brawling stream careering through its centre,
give the place an air of solitude and of quiet repose that,
notwithstanding its monotony, is exceedingly impressive.

On gaining any of the many points of elevation that command a view of
this desolate strath, you may descry, towards its western extremity, a
small, rude, but massive stone bridge, grey with age; for it was erected
in the time of that laird of Assynt who rendered himself for ever
infamous by betraying the Duke of Montrose, who had sought and obtained
the promise of his protection, to his enemies.

Close by this bridge stands a little highland cottage, of, however, a
considerably better order than the common run of such domiciles in this
quarter of the world; and bespeaking a condition,