It must be remarked that by the cruel and arbitrary laws of the time, Morton, in affording to the comrade of his father a protec tion which he could not in humanity refuse him, incurred the heavy penalty attached to receiving or sheltering intercommuned persons. There was, by the severity of government, a ban put upon the refractory calvinists, equal to the aquæ et ignis interdictio of the civil law, and whoever transgressed it by relieving the unhappy fugitive, involved himself in his crime and punishment. Another circumstance added to the hazard which Morton thus incurred. The ploughman of Lady Margaret Bellenden, Cuddie Headrigg by name, had been, with his mother, expelled from the castle of Tillietudlem, on account of his refusing to bear arms at the weaponshowing, and thereby occasioning the substitution of Goose-Gibbie, to the disgrace, as we have already seen, of Lady Margaret's troop. The old woman is described as a zealous extra-presbyterian; the son as an old-fashioned Scotch boor, sly and shrewd in his own concerns, dull and indifferent to all other matters; reverencing his mother, and loving his mistress, a pert serving damsel in the castle, better than was uniformly expressed by his language. The submission of this honest countryman, upon a martial summons, to petticoat influence, was not peculiar to his rank of life. We learn from Fountainhall, that when thirty-five heritors of the kingdom of Fife were summoned to appear before the council for neglecting to join the King's host, in 1680, with their horses and arms, some of their apologies were similar to those which Cuddie might have preferred for himself. Balcanquhal of that ilk alleged that his horses were robbed, but shunned to take the declaration for fear of disquiet from his wife.'-'And Young of Kirkton stated his lady's dangerous sickness, and bitter curses if he should leave her; and the appearance of abortion on his offering to go from her.' Now as there was a private understanding between Morton and the fair Edith Bellenden, the former is induced, at the request of the young lady, to use his interest with his uncle and his uncle's favourite housekeeper to receive the two exiles as menials into the house of Milnwood. The family there are seated at dinner when they are disturbed by one of those tyrannical domiciliary visits which the soldiers were authorized and encouraged to commit. The scene may very well be extracted as a specimen of the author's colouring and outline.

While the servants admitted the troopers, whose oaths and threats already indicated resentment at the delay they had been put to, Cuddie took the opportunity to whisper to his mother, "Now ye daft auld carline, mak yoursel deaf-ye hae made us a' deaf ere now-and let me speak for ye. I wad like ill to get my neck raxed, for an auld wife's clashes, though ye be our mither."

"O, hinney, ay; I'se be silent or thou sall come to ill," was the corresponding whisper of Mause; "but bethink ye, my dear, them that deny the Word, the Word will deny"

'Her admonition was cut short by the entrance of the Life Guard'smen, a party of four troopers commanded by Bothwell.

In they tramped, making a tremendous clatter upon the stone floor with the iron-shod heels of their large jack-boots, and the clash and clang of their long, heavy, basket-hilted-broad-swords. Milnwood and his housekeeper trembled, from well-grounded apprehension of the system of exaction and plunder carried on during these domiciliary visits. Henry Morton was discomposed with more special cause, for he remembered that he stood answerable to the laws for having barboured Burley. The widow Mause Headrigg, between fear for her son's life, and an overstrained and enthusiastic zeal, which reproached her for consenting even tacitly to belie her religious sentiments, was in a strange quandary. The other servants quaked for they knew not well what. Cuddie alone, with the look of supreme indifference and stupidity which a Scotch peasant can at times assume as a mask for considerable shrewdness and craft, continued to swallow large spoonfuls of his broth, to command which, he had drawn within his sphere the large vessel that contained it, and helped himself, amid the confusion, to a sevenfold portion.

"What is your pleasure here gentlemen?" said Milnwood, humbling himself before the satellites of power.

"We come in behalf of the king," answered Bothwell. "Why the devil did you keep us so long standing at the door?"

"We were at dinner," answered Milnwood, "and the door was locked, as is usual in landward towns in this country. I am sure, gentlemen, if I had kenn'd ony servants of our gude king had stood at the door-But wad ye please to drink some ale-or some brandy-or a cup of canary sack, or claret wine?" making a pause between each offer as long as a stingy bidder at an auction, who is loath to advance his offer for a favourite lot.

"Claret for me," said one fellow.

"I like ale better," said another, "provided it is right juice of John Barleycorn."

"Better never was malted," said Milnwood; "I can hardly say sae muckle for the claret. It's thin and cauld, gentlemen."

"Brandy will cure that," said a third fellow; "a glass of brandy to three glasses of wine prevents the curmurring in the stomach."

"Brandy, ale, wine, sack, and claret,-we'll try them all," said Bothwell," and stick to that which is best. There's good sense in that, if the damn'dest whig in Scotland had said it."'—pp. 176, 177.

The military intruder proceeds with such insolence to enforce the King's health, which was one of the various indirect modes they had of ascertaining the political principles of those they conyersed with.

Well," said Bothwell, "have ye all drunk the toast ?—What is that

old wife about? Give her a glass of brandy, she shall drink the king's bealth by

"if your honour pleases," said Cuddie, with great stolidity of aspect, this is my mither, stir; and she's as deaf as Corralinn; we canna make her hear day nor door; but if your honour pleases, I am ready to drink the King's health for her in as mony glasses of brandy as ye think neshessary."

"I dare swear you are," answered Bothwell, "you look like a fellow that would stick to brandy-help thyself, man; all's free where'er I come.-Tom, help the maid to a comfortable cup, though she's but a dirty jilt neither. Fill round once more-Here's to our noble, commander, Colonel Graham of Claverhouse!-What the devil is the old woman groaning for? She looks as very a whig as ever sate on a hill side-Do you renounce the Covenant, good woman?'

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Whilk Covenant is your honour meaning? Is it the Covenant of Works, or the Covenant of Grace?" said Cuddie, interposing.

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Any covenant; all covenants that ever were hatched," answered the trooper.

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Mither," cried Cuddie, affecting to speak as to a deaf person, the gentleman wants to ken if ye will renounce the Covenant of Works?'

“With all my heart, Cuddie," said Mause, and pray that my feet may be delivered from the share thereof.'

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Come," said Bothwell, the old dame has come more frankly off than I expected. Another cup round, and then we'll proceed to business. You have all heard, I suppose, of the horrid and barbarous murder committed upon the person of the Archbishop of St Andrews, by ten or eleven armed fanatics?—vol. ii. pp. 180, 181.

This question enforced and persisted in, at length produces the discovery, that Morton had privately received Balfour, one of the assassins, into the house of his uncle on the preceding evening. Still, although Bothwell prepares to take him into custody, it appears that the high-born sergeant is not unwilling to overlook this deceit, if the inhabitants of the family will take the test-oath, and if his uncle will pay a fine of twenty pounds, for the use of the party.

"Old Milnwood cast a rueful look upon his adviser, and moved off, like a piece of Dutch clock-work, to set at liberty his imprisoned angels in this dire emergency. Meanwhile, Sergeant Bothwell began to put the test oath with such a degree of solemn reverence as might have been expected, being just about the same which is used to this day in his Majesty's Custom house.

"You-what's your name, woman?"

"Alison Wilson, sir."

"You, Alison Wilson, solemnly swear, certify, and declare, that you judge it unlawful for subjects under pretext of reformation, or any other pretext whatsoever, to enter into Leagues and Covenants"

'Here the ceremony was interrupted by a strife between Cuddie and his mother, which long conducted in whispers, now became audible.

"O, whisht, mither, whisht! they're upon a communing-Oh! whisht, and they'll agree weel e'enow."

"I will not whisht, Cuddie," replied his mother, "I will uplift my voice and spare not-1 will confound the man of sin, even the scarlet man, and through my voice shall Mr. Henry be freed from the net of the fowler."

She has her leg ower the harrows now," said Cuddie, “stop her wha can--I see here cocked up behint a dragoon on her way to the Tolbooth-I find my ain legs tied below a horse's belly-Ay-she has just mustered up her sermon, and there-wi' that grane-out it comes, and we are a' ruined, horse and foot!"

"And div ye think to come here," said Mause, her withered hand shaking in concert with her keen, though wrinkled visage, animated by zealous wrath, and emancipated by the very mention of the test, from the restraints of her own prudence and Cuddie's admonition,-" div ye think to come here, wi' your soul-killing, saint-seducing, conscienceconfounding oaths, and tests, and bands-your snares, and your traps, and your gins?-Surely it is in vain that a net is spread in the sight of any bird.'

"Eh! what, good dame ?" said the soldier. "Here's a whig miracle, egad! the old wife has got both her ears and tongue, and we are like to be driven deaf in our turn. Go to, hold your peace, and remember whom you talk to, you old idiot."

"Whae do I talk to? Eh, sirs, ower weel may the sorrowing land ken what ye are. Malignant adherents ye are to the prelates, foul props to a feeble and filthy cause, bloody beasts of prey, and burdens to the earth."

"Upon my soul," said Bothwell, astonished as a mastiff-dog might be should a hen-partridge fly at him in defence of her young, this is the finest language I ever heard! Can't you give us some more of it?'

"Gie ye some mair o't?" said Mause, clearing her voice with a preliminary cough, 1 will take up my testimony against you ance again. -Philistines ye are, and Edomites-leopards are ye, and foxesevening-wolves, that gnaw not the bones till the morrow-wicked dogs. that compass about the chosen-thrusting kine, and pushing bulls of Basban-piercing serpents ye are, and allied baith in name and nature with the great Red Dragon. Revelations, twalfth chapter, third and fourth verses.'

'Here the old lady stopped, apparently much more from lack of breath than of matter.

"Curse the old hag," said one of the dragoons, "gag her, and take her to head-quarters."

"For shame, Andrews," said Bothwell; "remember the good lady belongs to the fair sex, and uses only the privileges of her tongue.— But, hark ye, good woman, every Bull of Bashan and Red Dragon will not be so civil as I am, or be contented to leave you to the charge of the constable and ducking-stool. In the mean time, I must necessarily

carry off this young man to head quarters. I cannot answer to my com manding officer to leave him in a house where I have heard so much treason and fanaticism."

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See now, mither, what ye hae dune," whispered Cuddie; "there's the Philistines, as ye ca' them, are gaun to whirry awa' Mr. Harry, and a' wi' your nashgab, de'il be on't!"

"Haud ye're tongue, ye cowardly loon," said the mother," and lay na the wyte on me; if you and thae thowless gluttons that are sitting staring like cows bursting on clover, wad testify wi' your hands as I have testified wi' my tongue, they should never harle the precious young lad awa' to captivity."-vol. ii. pp. 190-195.

This testimony of Mause having fairly broken up the secret treaty, between the sergeant and old Milnwood, the former nevertheless without regard to good faith, does not hesitate to appropriate the subsidy of twenty pounds, on which he had already laid his clutches; and sets off with his party and his prisoner to the castle of Tillietudlem, where he is detained all night by the hospi tality of Lady Margaret Bellenden, who conceives she cannot pay too much attention to the soldiers of his most sacred majesty, commanded by a man of such distinguished birth as Bothwell. The scene which we have transcribed seems to have been sketched with considerable attention to the manners. But it is not quite original, and probably the reader will discover the germ of it in the following dialogue, which Daniel Defoe has introduced into his History of the Church of Scotland. It will be remembered that Defoe visited Scotland on a political mission, about the time of the Union, and it is evident that the anecdotes concerning this unhappy period, then fresh in the memory of many, must have been peculiarly interesting to a man of his liveliness of imagination, who excelled all others in dramatizing a story, and presenting it as if in actual speech and action before

the reader.

'They tell us another story of a soldier, not so divested of humanity as most of them were, and who meeting a man upon the road, who be suspected was one of the poor out-lawed proscribed people, as indeed he was; the man was surprised, and would have got from him, but be saw it was in vain, and yet the soldier soon let him know that he was not very much inclined to hurt him, much less to kill him: whereupon the following dialogue, as it is said, happened between them.

The soldier seeing the countryman willing to shun, and get from him, begins thus:

Soldier. Hold, Sir, ye mon no gang frae me, I have muckle businesı at you.

'C. Man. Well, what's your will then?

Soldier. I fear ye are one of the Bothwell-Brigg-men, what say ye

to that?

C. Man. Indeed, no Sir, I am not.