THE BLACK LINN OF LINKLATER.

"Between two rows of rocks, a sylvan scene
Appears above, and groves for ever green:
A grot is formed beneath, with mossy seats,
To rest the Naiads, and exclude the heats.
Down thro' the crannies of the living walls

The crystal streams descend in murmuring falls."

DRYDEN.

[Tales of My Landlord, (Old Mortality,) Vol. III. p. 100.

"When he (Morton) looked round him for a moment, the girl again pulled his sleeve, and, pointing to the oak and the projecting point beyond it, (for hearing and speech was now out of the question,) indicated that there lay his farther passage... He gazed at her with surprise, for, although he well knew that the persecuted Prebyterians had in the preceding reigns sought refuge among dells and thickets, caves and cataracts-in spots the most extraordinary and secluded-although he had heard of the champions of the covenant, who had long abidden beside Dobs-linn on the wild heights of Polmoodie, and others who had been concealed in the yet more terrific cavern called Creehope-linn, in the parish of Closeburn, yet his imagination had never exactly figured out the horrors of such a residence, and he was surprised how the strange and romantic scene, which he now saw, had remained concealed from him, while a curious investigator of such natural phenomena. But he readily conceived, that, lying in a remote and wild district, and being destined as a place of concealment to the persecuted preachers and professors of nonconformity, the secret of its existence was carefully preserved by the few shepherds to whom it might be known.

"As breaking from these meditations, he began to consider how he should traverse the doubtful and terrific bridge, which, skirted by the cascade, and rendered wet and slippery by its constant drizzling, traversed the chasm above sixty feet from the bottom of the fall, his guide, as if to give him courage, tript over and back without the least hesitation. Envying, for a moment, the little bare feet which caught a safer hold of the rugged side of the oak than he could pretend to with his heavy boots, Morton, nevertheless, resolved to attempt the passage, and, fixing his eye firm on a stationary object on the other side, without allowing his head to become giddy, or his attention to be distracted by the flash, the foam, and the roar of the waters around him, he strode steadily and safely along the uncertain bridge, and reached the mouth of a small cavern on the further side of the torrent.

"The inhabitant of this secluded retreat was Balfour of Burley, with whom Morton was desirous of renewing an acquaintance which had been broken off since the fight of Bothwell Bridge. As Morton advanced, he beheld him standing erect in his cave, disfigured by the addition of a grisly beard, holding his clasped bible in one hand, and his drawn sword in the other. His figure, dimly ruddied by the light of the red charcoal, seemed

that of a fiend in the lurid atmosphere of Pandemonium; and his gestures and words, so far as they could be heard, seemed equally violent and irregular.

The closeness of pursuit and severity of persecution compelled the Covenanters to take shelter in the most inaccessible retreats: caves, grottos, dens, were their frequent abodes, where they had to contend not only with the dangers that affect mortality, such as damp, darkness, and famine, but with less real though not less distracting conflicts, with the evil powers, by which, in their disordered imaginations, they believed all such places to be haunted. The most romantic of the numerous retreats of the Covenanters, the exact locality of which is still distinctly known, is called Creehope, or Creekhope Linn, in the parish of Closeburn, Dumfrieshire. The river has cut a deep, regular open through a freestone hill, so narrow and so exactly formed, that little activity is required to leap across. After a short course in this formal, natural channel, it falls down a precipice, between two vast cliffs a few yards asunder, to a depth of ninety feet.

This is undoubtedly the dell, waterfall, and cave alluded to by the author of Old Mortality, as the asylum of Balfour of Burley: it is in the immediate vicinity of Brownhill, and of Closeburn Castle, the seat of the Menteath family.

"Morton and his guide stood nearly opposite the water-fall, and in point of level about one quarter's depth from the point of the cliff over which it thundered, and threefourths of the height over the dark, deep, and restless pool which received its fall. Both these tremendous points, the first shoot, namely, of the yet unbroken stream, and the deep and sombre abyss into which it was emptied, were full before him, as well as the whole continuous stream of billowy froth, which, dashing from one, was eddying in the other. They were so near this grand phenomenon that they were covered with its spray, and well nigh deafened by the incessant roar. But crossing in the very front of the fall, and at scarce three yards' distance from the cataracts, an old oak-tree, flung across the chasm in a manner that seemed accidental, formed a bridge of fearfully narrow dimensions and uncertain footing. The upper end of the tree rested on the platform on which they stood-the lower or uprooted extremity extended behind a projection on the opposite side, and was secured, Morton's eye could not discover where. A strong red light that glimmered from behind the projection, and glanced in the waves of the falling water, tinged them partially with crimson, and imparted a strange, preternatural, and sinister effect, when contrasted with the beams of the rising sun, which glanced on the first broken waves of the fall, though even its meridian splendour could not gain the third of its full depth."

[Tales of my Landlord, Second Series, (The Heart of Midlothian,) Vol. I. p. 262 & 269.

"To the Grass-market with him!" echoed on all hands. "Let no man hurt him,” continued the speaker; "let him make his peace with God, if he can: we will not kill both his soul and body." "What time did he give better folk for preparing their account?" answered several voices. "Let us mete to him with the same measure he measured to them." But the opinion of the spokesman better suited the temper of those he addressed, a temper rather stubborn than impetuous, sedate though ferocious, and desirous of colouring their cruel and revengeful action with a shew of justice and moderation. For an instant this man quitted the prisoner, whom he consigned to a selected guard, with instructions to permit him to give his money and property to whomsoever he pleased. His last arrangement being concluded, they led, or rather carried along, in a determined and regular manner, the object of their vengeance, until they reached the place of common execution, the scene of his crime, and destined spot of his sufferings, Several of the rioters (if they should not rather be designated conspirators) endeavoured to remove the stone which filled the socket in which the end of the fatal tree was sunk when it was erected for its awful purpose: others sought means of constructing a temporary gibbet, the place in which the gallows itself was deposited being reported too secure to be forced without much loss of time. Butler (the clergyman) endeavoured to avail himself of the delay afforded by these circumstances, to turn the people from their desperate design. "For God's sake," he exclaimed, "remember it is the image of your Creator which you are about to deface in the person of this unfortunate man! Wretched as he is, and wicked as he may be, he has a share in every promise of the Scripture, and you cannot destroy him in impenitence, without blotting his name from the book of life. Do not destroy soul and body: give time for preparation." "What time had he," returned a stern voice, "whom he murdered on this very spot? The laws both of God and man call for his death.”

"But what, my friends," insisted Butler, with a generous disregard to his own safety,—“what hath constituted you judges?" "We are not his judges,” replied the same person; "he has been already judged and condemned by lawful authority. We are those whom Heaven, and our righteous anger, have stirred up to execute judgment, when a corrupt government would have protected a murderer." "I am none," said the unfortunate Porteous: "that which you charge upon me fell out in self-defence, in the lawful exercise of my duty."