picture with striking and impressive fidelity; and th traditional records of the respectable and ingenious Mrs Grant of Laggan, are of a nature distinct from the fictitiou narrative which I have here attempted. I would willingly persuade myself, that the preceding work will not be found altogether uninteresting. To elder person it will recall scenes and characters familiar to their youth and to the rising generation the tale may present some ide of the manners of their forefathers. Yet I heartily wish that the task of tracing the evanescen manners of his own country had employed the pen of the only man in Scotland who could have done it justice,—of him so eminently distinguished in elegant literature, and whose sketches of Colonel Caustic and Umphraville are perfect blended with the finer traits of national character. I should in that case have had more pleasure as a reader, than I shi ever feel in the pride of a successful author, should these sheets confer upon me that envied distinction. And as have inverted the usual arrangement, placing these remarks at the end of the work to which they refer, I will venture or a second violation of form, by closing the whole with a Dedication; THESE VOLUMES BEING RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED ΤΟ OUR SCOTTISH ADDISON, BY AN UNKNOWN ADMIRER OF HIS GENIUS. The original edition to which this dedication was appended appeared in thre volumes.-[ED.] NOTES Note I. (p. 92).—Titus Livius. The attachment to this classic was, it is said, actually displayed, in the nanner mentioned in the text, by an unfortunate Jacobite in that unhappy eriod. He escaped from the jail in which he was confined for a hasty rial and certain condemnation, and was retaken as he hovered around the place in which he had been imprisoned, for which he could give no better eason than the hope of recovering his favourite Titus Livius. I am sorry o add, that the simplicity of such a character was found to form no apology or his guilt as a rebel, and that he was condemned and executed. Note II. (p. 95).—Nicholas Amhurst. Nicholas Amhurst, a noted political writer, who conducted for many years a paper called the Craftsman, under the assumed name of Caleb D'Anvers. He was devoted to the Tory interest, and seconded, with much ability, the attacks of Pulteney on Sir Robert Walpole. He died in 1742, neglected by his great patrons, and in the most miserable circum stances. "Amhurst survived the downfall of Walpole's power, and had reason to expect a reward for his labours. If we excuse Bolingbroke, who had only saved the shipwreck of his fortunes, we shall be at a loss to justify Pulteney, who could with ease have given this man a considerable income. The utmost of his generosity to Amhurst, that I ever heard of, was a hogshead of claret! He died, it is supposed, of a broken heart; and was buried at the charge of his honest printer, Richard Francklin."—(Lord Chesterfield's Characters Reviewed, p. 42.) Note III. (p. 97).—Colonel Gardiner. I have now given in the text, the full name of this gallant and excellent man, and proceed to copy the account of his remarkable conversion, as related by Dr. Doddridge. This memorable event," says the pious writer, "happened towards the middle of July 1719. The major had spent the evening (and, if I mistake not, it was the Sabbath) in some gay company, and had an unhappy assignation with a married woman, whom he was to attend exactly at twelve. The company broke up about eleven; and not judging it convenient to anticipate the time appointed, he went into his chamber to kill the tedious hour, perhaps with some amusing book, or some other way. But it very accidentally happened, that he took up a religious book, which his good mother or aunt had, without his knowledge, slipped into his portmanteau. It was called, if I remember the title exactly, The Christian Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm, and it was written by Mr. Thomas Watson. Guessing by the title of it that he would find some phrases of his own profession spiritualized in a manner which he thought might afford him some diversion, he resolved to dip into it; but he took no serious notice of anything it had in it; and yet while this book was in his hand, an impression was made upon his mind (perhaps God only knows how) which drew after it a train of the most important and happy consequences. He thought he saw an unusual blaze of light fall upon the book which he was reading, which he at first imagined might happen by some accident in the candle; but lifting up his eyes, he appre hended, to his extreme amazement, that there was before him, as it were suspended in the air, a visible representation of the Lord Jesus Chris upon the cross, surrounded on all sides with a glory; and was impressed as if a voice, or something equivalent to a voice, had come to him, to this effect, (for he was not confident as to the words,) 'Oh, sinner! did! suffer this for thee, and are these thy returns!' Struck with so amazing phenomenon as this, there remained hardly any life in him, so that he sunk down in the arm-chair in which he sat, and continued, he knew not how long, insensible." "With regard to this vision," says the ingenious Dr. Hibbert, "the appearance of our Saviour on the cross, and the awful words repeated can be considered in no other light than as so many recollected images the mind, which, probably, had their origin in the language of some urgent appeal to repentance, that the colonel might have casually read, f heard delivered. From what cause, however, such ideas were rendered as vivid as actual impressions, we have no information to be depended upon. This vision was certainly attended with one of the most important of consequences, connected with the Christian dispensation-the conver sion of a sinner. And hence no single narrative has, perhaps, done more to confirm the superstitious opinion that apparitions of this awful kind cannot arise without a divine fiat." Dr. Hibbert adds, in a note-"A short time before the vision, Colonel Gardiner had received a severe fall from his horse. Did the brain receive some slight degree of injury from the accident, so as to predispose him to this spiritual illusion?"-(Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions, Edinburgh, 1824, p. 190.) Note IV. (p. 99).—Scottish Inns. The courtesy of an invitation to partake a traveller's meal, or at leas that of being invited to share whatever liquor the guest called for, w expected by certain old landlords in Scotland even in the youth of the author. In requital, mine host was always furnished with the news d the country, and was probably a little of a humourist to boot. The devolt tion of the whole actual business and drudgery of the inn upon the po gudewife, was very common among the Scottish Bonifaces. There was ancient times, in the city of Edinburgh, a gentleman of good family, who condescended, in order to gain a livelihood, to become the nomina keeper of a coffeehouse, one of the first places of the kind which had beet opened in the Scottish metropolis. As usual, it was entirely managed the careful and industrious Mrs. B- ; while her husband amuse himself with field sports, without troubling his head about the matter Once upon a time the premises having taken fire, the husband was me walking up the High Street loaded with his guns and fishing-rods, replied calmly to some one who enquired after his wife, "that the poor woman was trying to save a parcel of crockery, and some trumpery books; "the last being those which served her to conduct the business a the house. and There were many elderly gentlemen in the author's younger days, who still held it part of the amusement of a journey "to parley with mine ost," who often resembled, in his quaint humour, mine Host of the arter in the Merry Wives of Windsor; or Blague of the George in e Merry Devil of Edmonton. Sometimes the landlady took her share entertaining the company. In either case the omitting to pay them due tention gave displeasure, and perhaps brought down a smart jest, as on e following occasion : A jolly dame who, not "Sixty Years since," kept the principal caravanry at Greenlaw, in Berwickshire, had the honour to receive under her of a very worthy clergyman, with three sons of the same profession, ch having a cure of souls; be it said in passing, none of the reverend rty were reckoned powerful in the pulpit. After dinner was over, the orthy senior, in the pride of his heart, asked Mrs. Buchan whether she er had had such a party in her house before. "Here sit I," he said, placed minister of the Kirk of Scotland, and here sit my three sons, ch a placed minister of the same kirk.-Confess, Luckie Buchan, you ver had such a party in your house before." The question was not emised by any invitation to sit down and take a glass of wine or the like, Mrs. B. answered dryly, "Indeed, sir, I cannot just say that ever I had ch a party in my house before, except once in the forty-five, when I da Highland piper here, with his three sons, all Highland pipers; and "il a spring they could play amang them.' دو Note V. (p. 117).—Stirrup-Cup. I may here mention, that the fashion of compotation described in the t, was still occasionally practised in Scotland in the author's youth. A npany, after having taken leave of their host, often went to finish the ening at the clachan or village, in "womb of tavern." Their entertainer ways accompanied them to take the stirrup-cup, which often occasioned ong and late revel. The Poculum Potatorium of the valiant Baron, his blessed Bear, has a ototype at the fine old Castle of Glammis, so rich in memorials of cient times; it is a massive beaker of silver, double gilt, moulded into shape of a lion, and holding about an English pint of wine. The m alludes to the family name of Strathmore, which is Lyon, and, when hibited, the cup must necessarily be emptied to the Earl's health. The Chor ought perhaps to be ashamed of recording that he has had the nour of swallowing the contents of the Lion; and the recollection of feat served to suggest the story of the Bear of Bradwardine. In the aily of Scott of Thirlestane (not Thirlestane in the Forest, but the place the same name in Roxburghshire) was long preserved a cup of the same id, in the form of a jack-boot. Each guest was obliged to empty this his departure. If the guest's name was Scott, the necessity was doubly perative. When the landlord of an inn presented his guests with deoch an doruis, at is, the drink at the door, or the stirrup-cup, the draught was not arged in the reckoning. On this point a learned Bailie of the town of rfar pronounced a very sound judgment. A., an ale-wife in Forfar, had brewed her "peck of malt," and set the uor out of doors to cool; the cow of B., a neighbour of A., chanced to me by, and seeing the good beverage, was allured to taste it, and finally drink it up. When A. came to take in her liquor, she found her tub pty, and from the cow's staggering and staring, so as to betray her emperance, she easily divined the mode in which her "browst" had R disappeared. To take vengeance on Crummie's ribs with a stick, was her first effort. The roaring of the cow brought B., her master, who remon strated with his angry neighbour, and received in reply a demand for the value of the ale which Crummie had drunk up. B. refused payment, and was conveyed before C., the Bailie, or sitting Magistrate. He heard the case patiently; and then demanded of the plaintiff A., whether the cow had sat down to her potation, or taken it standing. The plaintiff answered, she had not seen the deed committed, but she supposed the cow drank the ale while standing on her feet; adding, that had she been near, she would have made her use them to some purpose. The Bailie, on this admission, solemnly adjudged the cow's drink to be deoch an doruis -a stirrup cup, for which no charge could be made, without violating the ancient hospitality of Scotland. Note VI. (p. 158).—Rob Roy. An adventure, very similar to what is here stated, actually befell the late Mr. Abercromby of Tullibody, grandfather of the present Lord Abercromby, and father of the celebrated Sir Ralph. When this gentle man, who lived to a very advanced period of life, first settled in Stirling shire, his cattle were repeatedly driven off by the celebrated Rob Roy, or some of his gang; and at length he was obliged, after obtaining a proper safe-conduct, to make the cateran such a visit as that of Waverley to Bean Lean in the text. Rob received him with much courtesy, and made many apologies for the accident, which must have happened, he said, through some mistake. Mr. Abercromby was regaled with collops from two of h own cattle, which were hung up by the heels in the cavern, and was d missed in perfect safety, after having agreed to pay in future a small su of black mail, in consideration of which Rob Roy not only undertook t forbear his herds in future, but to replace any that should be stolen from him by other freebooters. Mr. Abercromby said, Rob Roy affected to consider him as a friend to the Jacobite interest, and a sincere enemy the Union. Neither of these circumstances were true; but the lai thought it quite unnecessary to undeceive his Highland host at the of bringing on a political dispute in such a situation. This anecdote in received many years since (about 1792), from the mouth of the venerab gentleman who was concerned in it. Note VII. (p. 166).—Kind Gallows of Crieff. This celebrated gibbet was, in the memory of the last generation, standing at the western end of the town of Crieff, in Perthshire. W was called the kind gallows, we are unable to inform the reader certainty; but it is alleged that the Highlanders used to touch the bonnets as they passed a place, which had been fatal to many of the countrymen, with the ejaculation-"God bless her nain sell, and the T tamn you!" It may therefore have been called kind, as being a sort native or kindred place of doom to those who suffered there, as in fulf ment of a natural destiny. Note VIII. (p. 168).—Caterans. The story of the bridegroom carried off by Caterans, on his bridal-d is taken from one which was told to the author by the late Lair Mac-Nab, many years since. To carry off persons from the Lowla and to put them to ransom, was a common practice with the wild H landers, as it is said to be at the present day with the banditti in the So 2 t |