good management, qualifies him for swaggering on Sunday, and even indulging his sweetheart with a dance."

STRUGGLE BETWIXT AN EAGLE AND A DEER.

THE gamekeeper of the late Sir Hector Mackenzie of Gairloch, in passing through the forest one day, observed an eagle-almost as noble looking a bird as any described by the poet-naturalist, Wilson, or Audobon-in the act of attacking a roe-deer, its talons being firmly fixed in the neck of the animal. The hapless denizen of the forest evidently quailed before the bird of Jove, "the terrors of its beak and lightning of its eye" being enforced by still more palpable signs of supremacy. Unwilling, however, to yield without a struggle, the roe plunged forward to reach a lake close by, when the eagle, to prevent it, laid hold of the stump of an old tree, and endeavoured to push back its adversary. The roe, at length, triumphed; it burst into the lake, carrying in also the eagle, who clung to it, though one of its talons had been torn off in the struggle. At this moment, Macdonald, the gamekeeper, who was anxiously watching the issue of this singular contest, lifted his gun, and at one shot terminated the struggle of the desert-born antagonists, and put an end forever to their gyrations.

THE VIRGINAL.

IN the Northern Museum, Inverness, is an ancient virginal, the favourite musical instrument with keys, which was in use with our ancestors prior to the invention of the spinnet and harpsichord. Mary Queen of Scots, who delighted in music in her moments of "joyeusitye," as John Knox phrases it, used to play finely on the virginal; and her more fortunate rival, Queen Elizabeth, was so exquisite a performer on the

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same instrument, that Melville says-on hearing her once play, in her chamber, be was irresistibly drawn into the room. The virginal preserved here formerly belonged to a noble family of the county, and is considered to be almost the only one remaining in Scotland. It is made of oak, inlaid with cedar, and richly ornamented with gold. The cover and sides are beautifully painted with figures of birds, flowers, and leaves, the colours of which are still comparatively fresh and undecayed. On one part of the lid is a grand procession of warriors, whom a bevy of fair dames are propitiating by presents of wine and fruits.

BURGHEAD-ANCIENT WELL.

On the shores of the Moray Frith, in the parish of Duffus, stands the small, but neat and thriving, fishing station of Burghead, with its harbour jutting out into the main-its line of boarded herring sheds below--and its fair clean stone houses, nearly all built within the last twenty years, clustering along the steeps that overlook the sea. It is really a perfect model of a fishing town, and, judging from the comparative bustle at its harbour, and the influx of visitors and inhabitants of late years, we suppose it is rising fast into riches and repute. But modern as all about Burghead appears, excepting its everlasting hills and waves, the promontory is said by antiquarians to have formed a station for the Romans, when that wonderful people colonized our rugged strands. Το the north is a perpendicular rock, which the Danes surrounded with a rampart of oaken logs, or stakes, portions of which have been frequently dug up, together with hatchets, and quantities of burned grain. In digging, at the time of the erection of the harbour, the worthy proprietor informed us, his men found about thirty small figures of bulls cut in stone; and being not a little puzzled guessing at the signi

fication of these sculptures, he sent one of them to the Scottish Society of Antiquaries. This learned body decreed that the bulls were trophies carved by the Romans, as we strike medals, in commemoration of any signal victory. Another scrap of Roman antiquity was dug up by the workmen, a small brass coin, which an eminent antiquary said was one of the tokens in common use among the Roman soldiers to note their allowances of wine. But by far the most curious and antique object at Burghead, is a large well cut out of the solid rock, like a chamber, to the depth of about twenty feet, and twelve feet square. You descend to the spring by a flight of twenty-six steps, cut also out of the rock, which have been much worn by footsteps, supposed to be those of the Roman soldiers, and their successors, the Danes; for it is plausibly conjectured that this gigantic well must have been the one used in days of yore by the soldiers of the garrison. Ten times the present population of Burghead, daily frequenting the spring, would scarcely, perhaps in centuries, have made such an impression on these steps of massive rock. The well was discovered about fifteen years ago, when some improvements on the pier was in progress. A want of water was severely felt by the labourers, and as they were one day lamenting their scarcity of this cheap but invaluable element of nature, an old man suggested that they should dig in a certain spot, where, according to immemorial tradition, a well would be found. They resolved to try, and immediately commenced operations; but after excavating to the depth of ten or twelve feet on the side of the hill, they got tired of the project and desisted. The late Duke of Gordon, who was one of the proprietors of the harbour, hearing the story of the well, told the men to dig away, and not to mind a day or two's labour. They accordingly set to again, and at length succeeded, at the depth of from twenty to thirty feet from the surface, in find

ing the long-hidden well, and verifying the truth of the old tradition. .

THE SEVEN DISASTROUS YEARS.

FROM 1697 to 1704, were years of almost absolute sterility in the north of Scotland; and many a touching tale is told in Morayshire, and along the coasts of Aberdeen and Banff, of the scenes of distress and death to which the famine gave rise. In the parish of Kininvie, only three smoking cottages were left; the inhabitants of the others having all died during this heavy visitation. From poverty, and the awful prevalence of mortality, the ordinary rites of Christian burial were denied to the poor-large holes being dug in many places, into which the bodies were consigned. One maiden lady in Garmouth, whose name is still gratefully embalmed in the traditional recollections of the peasantry, provided shrouds and coffins for such as wandered to her door to die; and so anxious were the poor to avail themselves of this last privilege, that they husbanded their little stock of meal, and journeyed far and near, that they might close their eyes, secure of decent interment. Within the same period, a calamity of a different nature occurred, which has entailed a still more lasting misfortune on many proprietors of the soil. Betwixt Findhorn and Nairn, below the latter place, is a chain of sand-hills; and the people on the west coast having plucked, for fuel, the broom and bent grass with which they were covered, the wind, which, in this part of the country, blows from the west three-fourths of the year, caught the sand, and blew it like chaff upwards of twenty-five miles along the shore. Thousands of acres were, in this manner, overlaid. In some places it is not above a foot in depth; but in vales and hollows it lay so deep that many gardens were completely engulphed, and apples might be seen shooting up from the topmost branches, and rolling upon the sand.

In the parish of Duffus, about fifteen hundred acres were rendered useless; but the proprietor afterwards obtained some compensation in a grant of £200 from Government. The estate of Coulbin, which, in the assessed books of that period, was valued at £1200 Scots, shared the same fate, and is still totally useless, though the lands might be now worth from £1500 to £1800 sterling. One gentleman of our acquaintance has, by patient digging and trenching, rescued about three hundred acres of good land from the grasp of this destroyer; but, partly from the extent of the evil, and partly from the benumbing tendency of the entail laws, many hundreds of acres yet attest, in their dreary sterility, the calamitous effects of the "seven disastrous years."

AFFECTING TRADITION.

DURING the wars of Montrose, in the year 1645, there lived at Kirkton of Ardersier, a decent farmer named Magnus Campbell, an ancestor of the Rev. Mr Campbell, the present minister of Croy. Magnus had a leaning towards the side of the Covenanters, but wished to eschew all strife and violence, and to remain unknown and unmolested in the occupation of his native fields. It chanced, however, one day that, as the forces of Montrose were marching by, a soldier lingered behind and entered into conversation with the servant girl, who was engaged at the time brewing in an outhouse. Asking what she did-" Dost thou not see ?" said the girl. "I am brewing, and I wish I had Alaster M'Col's head in the brewst." M'Col was the favourite major-general of Montrose, but had rendered his name odious and terrible in the minds of the people by his ravages and cruelty during the campaign. The soldier treasured up the girl's saying in his mind, and following his companions, instantly acquainted them with the sentiment. In a few days ample