hated by them, and whose life they had so eagerly sought. The distressed father thus looked upon the death of his son as almost certain. And, if ever a father had reason to love a son, or be grieved at the intimation of his untimely death, that father was Mr. Bruce.

From his childhood,

Andrew was an only son. till the present time, when he was in his nineteenth year, he had been his constant companion. He had watched with the tenderest care the developement of his faculties; turned their energies into the proper channel; and he had seen his care rewarded, by the rapid progress his son had made in the acquirement of knowledge. His talents, the acquisitions he had already made, his love of learning, and his devotedness to religion, warranted the highest hopes of his future usefulness and respectability in the world.

This was enough to render Andrew peculiarly dear to his father. But he had more than this to draw his son nearer to his heart. Andrew had been his companion in suffering: and the calm and unmurmuring manner in which he had endured the severest hardships, had not only taught his mother and sister to bear their afflictions with patience, but even Mr. Bruce had frequently learnt

courage and constancy from his son.

Those who have suffered much together, have had opportunities of remarking one another's qualities, and of endearing themselves to each other by numberless offices of kindness, which can never have occurred to those who have passed all their days in prosperity. These opportunities had been too often afforded to the minister and his family. Andrew had gradually become the second hope in which they relied. In all his wanderings, he had scarcely ever left his father's side. He had watched with him, at cold midnight, on the side of the mountains and in the glen of the desert: he had fled with him, from the fell pursuit of the enemy, exposed to the storms and darkness of winter: he had hungered with him, he had mourned with him, he had endured every hardship with him: and, in all, he had been his father's comforter, and had showed him the most ardent filial affection. It was this son whom Mr. Bruce was now, in all likelihood, to see taken from him by the merciless hand of persecution, in the very spring of his days. And we need not wonder, if he found it hard, in this instance, to submit with resignation to the unsearchable appointment of heaven.

But, if the trial was severe, he had the best comfort which a parent can have, when he sees a beloved child about to be wrested from him by the hand of death. He had every reason, however, to believe, that whatever his enemies might accomplish against the life of his son, his soul would be received into the bosom of his God.

Now consoling himself and his daughter with those sure and certain consolations, derived from that trust and confidence in God, which the holy scriptures point out as the duty of every Christian, under the most severe afflictions,-now turning to the throne of grace, in prayer for his son, and again giving way to all the depth and bitterness of paternal sorrow, he spent the night in the gloomy cave, hoping, sometimes, that the morrow's light would bring him an account of his son's escape; and yet fearing, oftener, it would announce his death.

Is fortitude to highest victory.

And to the faithful, death the gate of life.”

MILTON.

NEXT morning, Dalziel and Macduff entered the church; and the former instantly asked Andrew, if he had come to a resolution about what had been proposed last night?

"My duty was so plain," said Andrew, “that it required no deliberation. I am prepared to die."

"But you are, perhaps, not prepared for torture," said Macduff, with a grin of fiend-like malignity, pointing to a thumbkin, which one of the spies, whom we formerly mentioned, held in his hand, by the curate's side. "That will make you speak out."

Andrew glanced an eye of scorn on the curate, looked without emotion at the instrument of torture, and remained silent.

Dalziel then asked him, if he would not send some one to his father, to persuade him to deliver

himself up to them? again repeating the promise of safety to his father's life.

"Thrust your sword through my body," said Andrew; "but think not to extract from my lips

one word, by all the tortures which you can inflict, that may lead to the discovery of my father. my only fear is, that he may hear of my danger and deliver up himself."

"Try that on your thumb, then," said Dalziel, ordering the spy, at the same time, to apply the instrument of torture, while the dragcons, that kept guard, held the young man to prevent resist

ance.

The thumbkin was an instrument of exquisite torture; and on this occasion it was applied without mercy. For some time Andrew bore the pain it occasioned with a firm and unchanging countenance; but, as the instrument was screwed closer and closer to his thumb, the color in his face came and went rapidly, and he writhed himself with, the agonizing pain.

Dalziel, seeing it was in vain to expect any discovery, was just about to order the tormentor to desist, when Macduff prevented him, by saying, "Another twist yet; it may have more virtue in it." The obedient spirit of wickedness