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phrase, "My dear Edward, it is God's will, and also the will of your father, whom, under God, it is your duty to obey, that you should leave us to take up the profession of arms, in which so many of your ancestors have been distinguished. I have made such arrangements as will enable you to take the field as their descendant, and as the probable heir of the house of Waverley; and, Sir, in the field of battle you will remember what name you bear. And, Edward, my dear boy, remember also that you are the last of that race, and the only hope of its revival depends upon you; therefore, as far as duty and. honour will permit, avoid danger-I mean unnecessary danger and keep no company with rakes, gamblers, and whigs, of whom, it is to be feared, there are but too many in the service into which you are going. Your colonel, as I am informed, is an excellent man-for a presbyterian; but you will remember your duty to God, the Church of England, and the (this breach ought to have been supplied, according to the rubric, with the word king; but as, unfortunately, that word conveyed a double and embarrassing sense, one meaning de facto, and the other de jure, the knight filled up the blank otherwise)-the church of England, and all constituted authorities." Then, not trusting himself with any further oratory, he carried his nephew to his stables to see the horses he destined for his campaign. Two were black, (the regimental colour) superb chargers both; the other three were stout active hacks, designed for the road, or for his domestics, of whom two were to attend him from the Hall; an additional groom, if necessary, might be picked up in Scotland.

"You will depart with but a small retinue," quoth the baronet," compared to Sir Hildebrand, when he mustered before the gate of the Hall a larger body of horse than your whole regiment consists of. I could have wished that these twenty young fellows from my estate, who have enlisted in your troop, had been to march with you on your journey to Scotland. It would have been something at least; but I am told their at

tendance would be thought unusual in these days, when every new and foolish fashion is introduced to break the natural dependence of the people upon their landlords." Sir Everard had done his best to correct this unnatural disposition of the times; for he had brightened the chain of attachment between the recruits and their young captain, not only by a copious repast of beef and ale, by way of parting feast, but by such a pecuniary donation to each individual, as tended rather to improve the conviviality than the discipline of their march. After inspecting the cavalry, Sir Everard again conducted his nephew to the library, where he produced a letter, carefully folded, surrounded by a little stripe of floxsilk, according to ancient form, and sealed with an accurate impression of the Waverley coat-of-arms. It was addressed, with great formality, "To Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Esq. of Bradwardine, at his principal mansion of Tully-Veolan, in Perthshire, North Britain. These-By the hands of Captain Edward Waverley, nephew of Sir Everard Waverley of Waverley-Honour, Bart."

The gentleman to whom this enormous greeting was addressed, of whom we shall have more to say in the sequel, had been in arms for the exiled family of Stuart in the year 1715, and was made prisoner at Preston, in Lancashire. He was a man of a very ancient family and somewhat embarrassed fortune; a scholar, according to the scholarship of Scotchmen, that is, his learning was more diffuse than accurate, and he was rather a reader than a grammarian. Of his zeal for the classic authors, he is said to have given an uncommon instance. On the road between Preston and London, he made his escape from his guards; but being afterwards found loitering near the place where they had lodged the former night, he was recognized and again arrested. His companions, and even his escort, were surprised at his infatuation, and could not help inquiring, why, being once at liberty, he had not made the best of his way to a place of safety; to which he replied, that he had intended to do

so, but, in good faith, he had returned to seek his Titus Livius, which he had forgot in the hurry of his escape. The simplicity of this anecdote struck the gentleman, who, as we before observed, had managed the defence of some of those unfortunate persons, at the expense of Sir Everard, and perhaps some others of the party. He was, besides, himself a special admirer of the old Patavinian, and though probably his own zeal might not have carried him such extravagant lengths, even to recover the edition of Sweynheim and Pannartz, (supposed to be the princeps) he did not the less estimate the devotion of the North Briton, and so exerted himself to remove and soften evidence, detect legal flaws, et cetera, that he accomplished the final discharge and deliverance of Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine from certain very awkward conséquences of a plea before our sovereign lord the king in Westminster.

The Baron of Bradwardine, for he was generally so called in Scotland, (although his intimates, from his place of residence, used to denominate him Tully-Veolan, or, more familiarly, Tully) no sooner stood rectus in curia, than he posted down to pay his respects and make his acknowledgments at Waverley-Honour. A congenial passion for field-sports, and a general coincidence in political opinions, cemented his friendship with Sir Everard, notwithstanding the difference of their habits and studies in other particulars; and, having spent several weeks at Waverley-Honour, he departed with many expressions of regard, warmly pressing the baronet to return his visit, and partake of the diversion of grouseshooting upon his moors in Perthshire next season. Shortly after, Mr. Bradwardine remitted from Scotland a sum in reimbursement of expenses incurred in the King's High Court of Westminster, which, although not quite so formidable when reduced to the English denomination, had, in its original form of Scotch pounds, shillings, and pence, such a formidable effect upon the frame of Duncan Macwheeble, the laird's confidential

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factor, baron baillie, and man of resource, that he had a fit of the colic which lasted for five days, occasioned, he said, solely and utterly by becoming the unhappy instrument of conveying such a serious sum of money out of his native country into the hands of the false English. But patriotism, as it is the fairest, so is it often the most suspicious mark of other feelings; and many who knew Baillie Macwheeble, concluded that his professions of regret were not altogether disinterested, and that he would have grudged the monies paid to the loons at Westminster much less had they not come from Bradwardine estate, a fund which he considered as more particularly his own. But the Baillie protested he was absolutely disinterested

"Woe, woe for Scotland, not a whit for me."

The laird was only rejoiced that his worthy friend, Sir Everard Waverley of Waverley-Honour, was reimbursed of the expenditure which he had outlaid on account of the house of Bradwardine. It concerned, he said, the credit of his own family, and the kingdom of Scotland at large, that these disbursements should be repaid forthwith, and if delayed, it would be a matter of national reproach. Sir Everard, accustomed to treat much larger sums with indifference, received the remittance of £.294: 13: 6, without being aware that the payment was an international concern, and, indeed, would probably have forgot the circumstance altogether, if Baillie Macwheeble had thought of comforting his colic by intercepting the subsidy. A yearly intercourse took place, of a short letter, and a hamper or a cask or two be tween Waverley-Honour and Tully-Veolan, the English exports consisting of mighty cheeses and mightier ale, pheasants, and venison, and the Scottish returns, being vested in grouse, white hares, pickled salmon, and usquebaugh. All which were meant and received as pledges of constant friendship and amity between two important houses. It followed as a matter of course, that the heir-apparent of Waverley-Honour could not with pro

priety visit Scotland without being furnished, with credentials to the Baron of Bradwardine.atio

When this matter was explained and settled, Mr. Pembroke expressed his wish to take a private and particular leave of his dear pupil. The good man's exhortations to Edward to preserve an unblemished life and morals, to hold fast the principles of the Christian religion, and to eschew the profane company of scoffers and latitudinarians, too much abounding in the army, were not unmingled with his political prejudices. It had pleased Heaven, he said, to place Scotland (doubtless for the sins of their ancestors in 1642) in a more deplorable state of darkness than even this unhappy kingdom of England. Here, at least, although the candlestick of the church of England had been in some degree removed from its place, it yet afforded a glimschismati

mering light; there was a hierarchy glim

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cal and fallen from the principles maintained by those great fathers of the church, Sancroft and his brethren there was a liturgy, though wofully perverted in some of the principal petitions. But in Scotland it was utter darkness, and excepting a sorrowful, scattered, and persecuted remnant, the pulpits were abandoned to presbyterians, and, he feared, to sectaries of every description. It should be his duty to fortify his dear pupil to resist such unhallowed and pernicious doctrines in church and state, as must necessarily be forced at times upon his unwilling ears. Here he produced two im-. mense folded packets, which appeared each to contain a whole ream of closely written manuscript. They had been the labour of the worthy man's whole life; and never were labour and zeal more absurdly wasted. He had at one time gone to London, with the intention of giving them to the world, by the medium of a bookseller in Little Britain, well known to deal in such commodities, and to whom he was instructed to address himself in a particular phrase, and with a certain sign, which, it seems, passed at that time current among the initiated jacobites.

The moment Mr. Pembroke bad uttered the

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