is little used in Scotland, and in some places is
totally forgotten. The frames of their windows
are all of wood." (Fancy accounting this as a
reproach to them, when it only showed that they
were in advance of their time.) "These windows
do not move upon hinges, but are pushed
up and drawn down in grooves." (There again!)
Now for a full sonorous blast of the trumpet,
"He that would have his window open, must
hold it with his hand, unless, what may be sometimes
found among good contrivers, there may
be a nail which he may stick into a hole to keep
it from falling." Lest any one should think I
am doing an "imitation of an eminent author,"
I beg to make reference to page 23 of the
celebrated "Journey."

Dr. Johnson might have had something more
interesting to tell us. If, for example, he had
spent a day at Banff, he might have discovered
that its situation was singularly beautiful; that
it was one of the oldest royal burghs in Scotland;
that it was once the site of a Carmelite monastery,
the history of whose foundation is lost in the
remote recesses of the past; that its castle was
the birthplace and early home of Archbishop
Sharpe; and that it was on its gallow hill that
Macpherson, the bold outlaw, who "robbed the
rich and gave to the poor," "played a tune, and
danced it roun' beneath the gallows tree."
But my heart is full as I "come back" ower
the bonny Brig o' Banff, and I can say no more
at present.

       FACES ON A BATTLE-FIELD.

THE celebrated report of DR. GHENT; on the
mortality caused by war, contains some
interesting information concerning the appearances
presented by some who die a violent death
on the field of battle. One surgeon says that,
wandering over the battle-field of the Alma, on
the third day after the fight, he observed with
astonishment a number of Russian corpses
whose attitude and expression of countenance
were precisely those of life. Some did
certainly present an aspect which showed that
they had suffered severely just previous to
dissolution, but these were few in number compared
with those who wore a calm and resigned
expression, as though they had passed away in the
act of prayer. Others had a smile on their
faces, and looked as if they were in the act of
speaking; one in particular attracted his special
attention; he was lying partly on his side, his
knees were bent under him, his hands were
clasped together and pointing upward, his head
was thrown back, and he was apparently still
praying—evidently he was in the act of doing so
at the moment when death laid his hand upon
him. Another medical man relates that after the
battle of Inkerman, the faces of many of the
dead still wore a smile; while others had a
threatening expression. Some lay stretched on
their backs as if friendly hands had prepared
them for burial. Some were still resting on
one knee, their hands grasping their muskets.
In some instances, the cartridge remained
between the teeth, or the musket was held in
one hand, and the other was uplifted as though
to ward off a blow, or appealing to Heaven.
The faces of all were pale, as though cut in
marble. As the wind swept across the battlefield
it waved the hair, and gave the bodies such
an appearance of life, that a spectator could
hardly help thinking they were about to rise to
continue the fight.

Another surgeon, describing the appearance
of the corpses on the field of Magenta, says that
they furnish indubitable proof that man may
cease to exist without suffering the least pain.
Those struck on the head generally lay with
their faces on the ground, their limbs retaining
the position they were in at the instant they
were struck, and most of these still held their
rifles: showing that when a ball entered the
brain it causes such a sudden contraction of the
muscles that there is not time for the hand to
loose its hold of the weapon before death.
Another peculiarity observed in the case of those
who were wounded in the brain, was, the
suddenness with which they died even when
suspected to be out of danger. During the battle
of Solferino, a rifleman was wounded in the head
by a ball which passed through the skull and
buried itself in the brain. His wound was dressed,
and he was stretched on straw, with his head
resting on his knapsack, like his wounded
comrades. He retained the full use of his faculties,
and chatted about his wound, almost with
indifference, as he filled his pipe and lay smoking it.
Nevertheless, before he had finished it, death
came upon him, and he was found lying in the
same attitude, with his pipe still between his
teeth. He had never uttered a cry, or given
any sign that he was suffering pain.

In cases where the ball had entered the heart,
nearly the same appearances were presented as
in the cases of those who had been struck in the
brain; death was what we term instantaneous,
but it was not quite so swift as in the former
case; there was generally time for a movement
in the act of dying. There was a Zouave who
had been struck full in the breast; he was lying
on his rifle, the bayonet was fixed, and pointing
in such a way as showed that he was in the act
of charging when struck. His head was uplifted,
and his countenance still bore a threatening
appearance, as if he had merely stumbled and
fallen, and were in the act of rising again. Close
by him lay an Austrian foot soldier, with clasped
hands and upturned eyes, who had died in
the act of praying. Another foot soldier
had fallen dead as he was in the act of fighting;
his fists were closed, one arm was in the act of
warding off a blow, and the other was drawn
back in the act of striking.

On another battle-field, several French soldiers
lay in a line, with their bayonets pointing in the
direction of the foe they were advancing against,
when a storm of grape mowed them down. On
the left bank of the river Tessin, several
Austrian officers lay dead. Some of them