'Donaldson, the landlord, did not fail to call on the Gudeman of Ballenguich, when his astonishment at finding that the king had been his guest afforded no small amusement to the merry monarch and his courtiers; and, to carry on the pleasantry, he was thenceforth designated by James with the title of King of the Moors, which name and designation have descended from father to son ever since, and they have continued in possession of the identical spot, the property of Mr. Erskine of Mar, till very lately, when this gentleman, with reluctance, turned out the descendant and representative of the King of the Moors, on account of his majesty's invincible indolence, and great dislike to reform or innovation of any kind, although, from the spirited example of his neighbour tenants on the same estate, he is convinced similar exertion would promote his advantage.'

The author requests permission yet farther to verify the subject of his poem, by an extract from the genealogical work of Buchanan of Auchmar, upon Scottish surnames:

'This John Buchanan of Auchmar and Arnpryor was afterwards termed King of Kippen, upon the following account. King James V, a very sociable, debonair prince, residing at Stirling, in Buchanan of Arnpryor's time, carriers were very frequently passing along the common road, being near Arnpryor's house, with necessaries for the use of the king's family: and he, having some extraordinary occasion, ordered one of these carriers to leave his load at his house, and he would pay him for it; which the carrier refused to do, telling him he was the king's carrier, and his load for his majesty's use; to which Arnpryor seemed to have small regard, compelling the carrier, in the end, to leave his load; telling him, if King James was King of Scotland, he was King of Kippen, so that it was reasonable he should share with his neighbour king in some of these loads, so frequently carried that road. The carrier representing this usage, and telling the story, as Arnpryor spoke it, to some of the king's servants, it came at length to his majesty's ears, who, shortly thereafter, with a few attendants, came to visit his neighbour king, who was in the meantime at dinner. King James, having sent a servant to demand access, was denied the same by a tall fellow with a battle-axe, who stood porter at the gate, telling, there could be no access till dinner was over. This answer not satisfying the king, he sent to demand access a second time; upon which he was desired by the porter to desist, otherwise he would find cause to repent his rudeness. His majesty finding this method would not do, desired the porter to tell his

master that the Goodman of Ballageich desired to speak with the King of Kippen. The porter telling Arnpryor so much, he, in all humble manner, came and received the king, and having entertained him with much sumptuousness and jollity, became so agreeable to King James, that he allowed him to take so much of any provision he found carrying that road as he had occasion for; and seeing he made the first visit, desired Arnpryor in a few days to return him a second to Stirling, which he performed, and continued in very much favour with the king, always thereafter being termed King of Kippen while he lived.'-BUCHANAN'S Essay upon the Family of Buchanan. Edin. 1775, 8vo, p. 74.

The readers of Ariosto must give credit for the amiable features with which King James V is represented, since he is generally considered as the prototype of Zerbino, the most interesting hero of the Orlando Furioso.

NOTE LXXV. -Stirling's tower Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims. -P. 272.

William of Worcester, who wrote about the middle of the fifteenth century, calls Stirling Castle Snowdoun. Sir David Lindsay bestows the same epithet upon it in his complaint of the Papingo:

'Adieu, fair Snawdoun, with thy towers high, Thy chaple-royal, park, and table round; May, June, and July, would I dwell in thee, Were I a man, to hear the birdis sound, Whilk doth againe thy royal rock rebound.' Mr. Chalmers, in his late excellent edition of Sir David Lindsay's works, has refuted the chimerical derivation of Snawdoun from snedding, or cutting. It was probably derived from the romantic legend which connected Stirling with King Arthur, to which the mention of the Round Table gives countenance. The ring within which justs were formerly practised, in the castle park, is still called the Round Table. Snawdoun is the official title of one of the Scottish heralds, whose epithets seem in all countries to have been fantastically adopted from ancient history or romance.

It appears (see Note LXXIV) that the real name by which James was actually distinguished in his private excursions, was the Goodman of Ballenguich; derived from a steep pass leading up to the Castle of Stirling, so called. But the epithet would not have suited poetry, and would besides at once, and prematurely, have announced the plot to many of my countrymen, among whom the traditional stories above mentioned are still current.

And to the torch glanced broad and

clear

The corslet of a cuirassier;

dew,

VII.

With deep impatience, tinged with fear,
His host beheld him gorge his cheer,
And quaff the full carouse, that lent
His brow a fiercer hardiment.
Now Oswald stood a space aside,
Now paced the room with hasty stride,
In feverish agony to learn

Tidings of deep and dread concern,
Cursing each moment that his guest
Protracted o'er his ruffian feast.
Yet, viewing with alarm, at last,
The end of that uncouth repast,
Almost he seem'd their haste to rue,
As, at his sign, his train withdrew,
And left him with the stranger, free
To question of his mystery.
Then did his silence long proclaim
A struggle between fear and shame.

VIII.

Much in the stranger's mien appears To justify suspicious fears.

On his dark face a scorching clime, And toil, had done the work of time, Roughen'dthebrow, the temples bared, And sable hairs with silver shared, Yet left-what age alone could tame-The lip of pride, the eye of flame; The full-drawn lip that upward curl'd, Theeye, that seem'd to scorn the world.

Tornade and earthquake, flood and

storm,

Death had he seen by sudden blow, By wasting plague, by tortures slow, By mine or breach, by steel or ball, Knew all his shapes, and scorn'd them all.

IX.

But yet, though BERTRAM's harden'd look,

Unmoved, could blood and danger brook,

Still worse than apathy had place
On his swart brow and callous face;
For evil passions, cherish'd long,
Had plough'd them with impressions

strong.

All that gives gloss to sin, all gay Light folly, past with youth away, But rooted stood, in manhood's hour, The weeds of vice without their flower. And yet the soil in which they grew, Had it been tamed when life was new, | Had depth and vigour to bring forth The hardier fruits of virtuous worth. Not that, e'en then, his heart had known

The gentler feelings' kindly tone; But lavish waste had been refined To bounty in his chasten'd mind, And lust of gold, that waste to feed, Been lost in love of glory's meed, And, frantic then no more, his pride Had ta'en fair virtue for its guide.

X.

Even now, by conscience unrestrain`d, Clogg'd by gross vice, by slaughter

stain'd,

Still knew his daring soul to soar, And mastery o'er the mind he bore;

For meaner guilt, or heart less hard,
Quail'd beneath Bertram's bold regard.
And this felt Oswald, while in vain
He strove, by many a winding train,
To lure his sullen guest to show,
Unask'd, the news he long'd to know,
While on far other subject hung
His heart, than falter'd from his tongue.
Yet nought for that his guest did deign
To note or spare his secret pain,
But still, in stern and stubborn sort,
Return'd him answer dark and short,
Or started from the theme, to range
In loose digression wild and strange,
And forced the embarrass'd host to buy,
By query close, direct reply.

XI.

A while he glozed upon the cause
Of Commons, Covenant, and Laws,
And Church Reform'd-- but felt rebuke
Beneath grim Bertram's sneering look,
Then stammer'd-Has a field been
fought?

Has Bertram news of battle brought?
For sure a soldier, famed so far
In foreign fields for feats of war,
On eve of fight ne'er left the host
Until the field were won and lost.'

Here, in your towers by circling Tees, You, Oswald Wycliffe, rest at ease; Why deem it strange that others come To share such safe and easy home, From fields where danger, death, and toil,

Are the reward of civil broil?' 'Nay, mock not, friend! since well we know

The near advances of the foe,

To mar our northern army's work, Encamp'd before beleaguer'd York; Thy horse with valiant Fairfax lay, And must have fought; how went the day?'

XII.

'Wouldst hear the tale? On Marston heath

Flourish'd the trumpets fierce, and

now

Fired was each eye, and flush'd each brow;

On either side loud clamours ring,
"God and the Cause!"-"God and
the King!"

Right English all, they rush'd to blows,
With nought to win, and all to lose.
I could have laugh'd-but lack'd the
time-

To see, in phrenesy sublime,
How the fierce zealots fought and bled
For king or state, as humour led;
Some for a dream of public good,
Some for church-tippet, gown, and
hood,

Draining their veins, in death to claim
A patriot's or a martyr's name.
Led Bertram Risingham the hearts,
That counter'd there on adverse parts,
No superstitious fool had I
Sought El Dorados in the sky!
Chili had heard me through her states,
And Lima oped her silver gates,
Rich Mexico I had march'd through,
And sack'd the splendours of Peru,
Till sunk Pizarro's daring name,
And, Cortez, thine, in Bertram's fame.'
'Still from the purpose wilt thou stray!
Good gentle friend, how went the day?'

XIII.

'Good am I deem'd at trumpet-sound, And good where goblets dance the round,

Though gentle ne'er was join'd, till now,

With rugged Bertram's breast and brow.

But I resume. The battle's rage
Was like the strife which currents

wage

Where Orinoco, in his pride, Rolls to the main no tribute tide, But 'gainst broad ocean urges far