formed the principal residence of the great and glorious Baron Breakhead. Though the minuter traits of character belonging to this eminent person have been lost in the lapse of time, yet his more prominent qualities have been preserved in remembrance by tradition, which, like a sieve, shakes out smaller particles, and only retains more bulky substances. He was considered, in his life-time, a man of highly peaceable character, and one that never annoyed any of his neighbours, so long as they abstained from crossing him in what he deemed the legitimate exercise of his free-agency. Among the privileges then held to belong to the " county gentlemen," and which were as yet undisturbed by revolutionary levellers, was that of now and then borrowing a few bullocks from a neighbour, without any formal manifestation of consent on the part of the lender, or engagement to make repayment on the part of the borrower ;-that of setting a neighbour's house on fire (himself and family included, or inclosed,) when said neighbour happened to be insolent in his demeanour, that of ly ing with a friend's wife or daughter, and some others of the like harmless description. Now Baron Breakhead, although, as has been said, a person endowed with the most quiet and inoffensive dispositions, yet, like all conscientious members of the aristocracy, felt it incumbent upon him to defend those rights and privileges which had been reposed in him for the benefit of the community; justly considering, that the particular degree of "influence" thus kept up by himself and others of his rank, was necessary for the maintainance of the social union. So long, then, as these privileges were left uninvaded, the Baron was a model of equanimity and patience; but the condition of human existence occasionally imposed trials upon him, which necessarily called into exercise some of his more active qualities; and it is well known, that of none is the rage more formidable, than of those in whom it is the most slowly provoked. Now, it so happened, on a particular occasion, that the Baron was guilty of what would, in our days, be termed a small violation of the tenth commandinent;-although

at the time libelled, this commandment, being " part and parcel of the law of the land," had somehow or other suffered that mischance which now and then befals other parts and parcels of the law of Scotland,— namely, that of falling into desuetude, not having been acted upon, as we may suppose, for forty years or upwards. Of this commandment, however, had it been in force, the Baron would have been guilty of a small violation, in so far as he, the said Baron, did conceive, cherish, and entertain, a most violent affection for five oxen, the property of Malcolm M'Stot, his neighbour; which affection, so cherished and entertained, did farther impel him, the Baron aforesaid, to the overt act involved in the forcible abduction of the oxen in question. Now, although the practice of seizing one another's goods and effects was one of those venerable usages which had descended from the remotest antiquity, and had been sanctioned by the experience of successive generations, yet the above-named Malcolm M'Stot was, it seems, a "liberal" of those days;

not meaning, thereby, that he was so liberal of his black cattle as to hold them at the service of whomsoever it might please to drive them away; but using the term in its modern acceptation, as denoting a person who is a disturber of established customs and privileges, or, as it would be explained, liberal of what does not belong to him. So Mr M'Stot did vigorously and perseveringly lift his voice against the intromission thus made with his substance by his neighbour, and did at length raise an army of his friends and domestics, to levy war against the Baron for the recovery of his oxen. Now, the privilege of making free with his neighbour's cattle was one of those to which the Baron attached particular value, as forming a principal support of the constitution-bodily, to witof himself and his followers, who, but for this expedient, must often have submitted to longer and more frequent fasts than any constitution can conveniently sustain: nor was all his meekness sufficient to make him bear with patience the very unreasonable and unaccountable clamour raised by Malcolm M'Stot;

so he instantly summoned his vassals to assist him in maintaining his just rights. As soon as it was known that these two potentates were at variance, all persons living in the vicinity began, as a matter of course, to enter into the quarrel;—an occasion like this supplying, at that time, that species of recreation from the fatigues, of their political and judicial functions, which modern gentry find in "the races, or in what is called, par excellence, a "meeting." The reinforcements thus arriving, attached themselves, some to one side, some to another, just as chance determined,-much upon the same principle as I myself, when unable to obtain a hand at a whist-table, will venture sixpence upon the odd trick, indifferently with one or other party, rather than languish in entire apathy as to the result. Such was the way in which the majority ranged themselves. Others, however, more conscientious, endeavoured to obtain some knowledge of the merits of the case, before following either of the redoubted leaders whose interests were involved; and the merits of the case were by them investigated, according to a method which has now very strangely become obsolete. Instead, then, of sitting down to inquire into the nature of the property in dispute, and the abstract or practical principles on which each party founded his claims, each of these casuists immediately commenced an inquiry into the degree of relationship that subsisted between himself and the Baron, or Malcolm M'Stot, respectively; and, by some peculiar process of reasoning, the intermediate steps of which are now lost, the premises and conclusion being alone extant, every man instantly decided that to be the just cause which was maintained by the party to which he himself was in the nearest degree related! The closest approach to the theorem which seems to have been used on this occasion, of which there is any appearance in modern times, is made by those gifted persons, who can at once decide upon the expediency of a particular measure, according as it comes from Mr Canning or Sir James Mackintosh. The secret here practised is indeed unknown to the public, from the re

serve peculiar to the persons possessing it,-they being generally the least communicative of all those to whose management the interests of the state are intrusted,—conforming literally to the precept which recommends the use of yea and nay, in preference to more diffuse argumentation. But this is a digression which may be passed over in the second, and every successive reading of this instructive narrative. The ingenious persons, then, who took upon them to discuss the justness of the claims severally advanced by the Baron and Malcolm M'Stot, found the weight of their respective pretensions to bear an exact ratio to the degree of propinquity existing between themselves and each of the parties: thus, if the Baron was a twenty-fourth cousin, and M'Stot a twenty-fifth, the Baron was right, and M'Stot wrong, and vice versa.

With forces on each side, thus composed and discomposed, the belligerent powers proceeded to action. Just, then, as the Baron was setting out for this purpose, and as he was about to pass the river at the east end of the town, he found a book lying on the bank, wherein was a history, or rather prophecy, of the events of the war into which he was entering. How the book came there, or whence it came, it is not my present business to give an account of, even if it were in my power, as it is not. Every one, however, who is conversant with the transactions of days of yore, must be able to recollect much more wonderful things than this. It is allowed, indeed, that, at the time we are speaking of, men often received intimations and instructions from fairies, witches, apparitions, and other beings of this sort, in cases where the less-favoured mortals of the present generation are left to their own wits; an additional proof of the increasing deterioration of the human condition-sunt lacrymæ rerum, et mentem mortalia tangunt ! But to resume the story. As the book found by the Baron promised a favourable result to his undertaking, he instantly made a vow, that, if the event should answer the prediction, he would erect a bridge over the river, at the very spot where he was then standing,-that he would be

of Lackbrain, who had come under a promise to cover the Church of St. Bridget's Convent, and how, when he refused to make good his engagement, the roof flew off his own house, and lighted upon the chapel. He next referred to the case of Sir Walter Worricow, who had vowed a piece of land to his (the Abbot's) own Monastery, but having after wards retracted, continued to cultivate the land for his own use. The land, however, would give him no countenance in his breach of faith, and strenuously refused to bring forth either grass or corn, until regularly and bona fide made over to the then rightful proprietors, namely the Monks!

The Abbot now began to "improve" these incidents, and the Baron, in his turn, essayed a rejoinder. But whether it was, that, in conducting his reply, he was affected with too great a paucity, or too great a concourse of ideas, (for both are prejudicial to fluency of speech,) certain it is, that his discourse now be gan to display a somewhat too profuse exemplification of that striking oratorial contrivance, known by the name of a hiatus, or break, occasion ally verging to what is vulgarly called a dead stop! But here, it may be asked, as Sterne asks his critic, "But in suspending his voice, was the sense suspended likewise? Did no expression of countenance or attitude fill up the chasm ?" In reply to which, it is to be acknowledged, that there were indeed exhibited certain gesticular demonstrations of the kind here understood, consisting principally in the Baron's clenching his hands, stamping with his foot, and foaming at the mouth! Nothing tends so much to ruffle our serenity as tl:e consciousness of a sort of secret enchantment seizing us at that particular moment, which disables us from giving that force to an argument which we really know it to be capable of receiving, and ourselves capable of giving to it, but for this provoking mental paralysis. This was the feeling that now interrupted the Baron's wonted placidity of demeanour; but as a prompt and skilful General will sometimes light upon the boldest and most decisive expedients at the very time that his

troops seem most in confusion, so the Baron, finding his logical forces somewhat in disorder, and, as it were, brought to a dangerous stand, now recovered sufficient presence of mind to propound his ultima ratio, which consisted in signifying to the Abbot, that, "if he said another word upon the subject, he would toss him over the window like an apple !" Very little time had elapsed, after this notification, before the Abbot was seen in the court-yard; but when we connect the circumstance of the Baron's chamber-window being forty feet high, with that of the Abbot's walking home upon his own two legs, it is supposed, that, indulging that propensity to circuitous expedients, for which churchmen are said to be distinguished, he had felt inclined, on this occasion, to make use of the accustomed cork-screw stair, in preference to the more straight-forward course of egress which the Baron had thus tendered his services to assist him in following. In his way home, however, he endured all the mortification which arises from the consciousness of having thrown away much good advice-a mortification for which there is no consolation, but in the hope that the person whom we have vainly endeavoured to benefit may have bitter cause to rue the rejection of our counsel. But the Abbot, since his own exhortations had thus failed of effect, considered it incumbent upon him to pray to St. Barebones, the Patron Saint of his order, that he would give the Baron a lesson suited to his capacity; and it would appear that the Saint heard his prayer; for, two days after, the Baron's wife was drowned in attempting to pass the river!" to the inexpressible grief of a numerous and highly-respectable circle of friends and acquaintances." The people in the neighbourhood, and particularly the Monks of St. Barebones, instantly began to hint that this was a judgment made to fall upon the Baron for the neglect of his vow; but it seems never to have struck him in this light, having been, apparently, like many persons of mild disposi tion, a man of somewhat obtuse perceptions. The very next week thereafter, it happened that his second son, with three attendants, were set

ting out to hunt some wild animalswhether of their own species or not does not now appear. In their way they had to pass the river, then considerably swollen by the rains. Many persons, however, had been known to ford it when as much flooded as it was then, and, on the present occasion, the party had gained the middle of the stream, entertaining no apprehensions, when, on a sudden, (to use the words of the nursery tale,)

"It so fell out, that all fell in,

The rest they ran away!"

A ray of light now shone across the Baron's mind, which shewed him, though rather in a faint and indistinct manner, the possibility of a connection between the disaster now recorded, and his neglect of his vow; and conceiving some degree of alarm at this new view of the case, he resolved that the building of the bridge should be commenced with all convenient speed. But whether it was that the Baron, being a man of prudent and considerate habits, was averse to precipitate measures, or that the multitude of cares and avocations, incident to high station, effaced the remembrance of this determination, so it was, that, after a considerable period had elapsed, there was yet no appearance of the bridge being built. Well, a little time after this, when he himself was passing the river one day, accompanied by his favourite greyhound, (of whom honourable mention has already been made, as the Baron's assessor in the conference with the Abbot,) this respected quadruped, who was swimming across behind his master, was carried down by the current, and drowned before his eyes! The Baron now began to see that the matter was getting serious; and at last he was heard to mutter, that 66 a bridge should be built, since St. Barebones would have it so; but he would put as much out of his way; for, from that time forth, neither bullock nor barrel of ale should ever go from the castle to the monastery." The bridge was accordingly built; and here comes the strangest part of the story, though, for my own part, I have some doubts of the truth of it; but such is the tradition of the

neighbourhood. It is said, that, when they were about to lay the foundation-stone, (for the Baron had sworn he would have no hand in it,) a hand, and part of an arm, was seen to come flying through the air, as it were, from Bluidy burn, the place where the Baron had fought the battle with M'Stot. This hand lighted upon the bank, where it lay as quietly as if unendowed with locomotive powers, until the masons had prepared a large stone for the foundation-a stone which three men could scarcely raise; when, wonderful to tell, the hand, all at once bestirring itself, lifted it up as if it had been a pebble, and settled it as firmly and exactly in its bed as a dozen of masons could have done with all their engines. Immediately on this being done, it rose up into the air, and, after taking a circuit round the Baron's castle, as if by way of contempt, flew off again in the direction of Bluidyburn: since which time it has never been seen or heard of; and, for ought that I know, it may never be heard of again. Whatever may be the truth of this story, certain it is, that (as if in memory of this circumstance) an arm is part of the family-arms to this day.

And such, Sir, is the origin of the name of Bookbridge, the bridge having been called so on account of the book found near it, which was the occasion of its being built, and the town having received its name from the bridge. My friend, Mr Rottenriggin, who has long made the study of antiquities his chief employment, has lately discovered the figure of a book cut out above the arch; though Dr M'Quibble says, that the figure on the stone alluded to is as like a cock, or a bull, or any thing else, as a book; but Dr M'Q. would deny that there's a Pope in Rome, if it would serve his purpose.

It is not very well known at what time Bookbridge was erected into a Burgh, its present [sett, or charter, being only a renewal of the original one; and although, with a view to ascertain this point, I once started the question in a company of persons, some of whom are pretty well acquainted with the ancient history of the Burgh, I did not obtain any information worth communicating.