tract the lady's real purpose--and an especial ass, now that it was over, for thinking so much about it. But I can think of nothing else, and therefore I am determined to think of this to some good purpose. You remember Murtough O'Hara's defence of the Catholic doctrine of confession; because, "by his soul, his sins were always a great burden to his mind, til he had told them to the priest; and once confessed, he never thought more about them." I have tried his receipt, therefore; and having poured my secret mortification into thy trusty ear, I will think no more about this maid of the mist,

Who, with no face, as 'twere, outfaced me."

---Four o'clock.

"If he cannot, or will not, take the advice here given, it is my opinion that you should join him, it possible, without delay, and urge, by your personal presence and entreaty, the arguments which may prove ineffectual in writing. One word more, and I implore of your candour to take it as it is meant. No one supposes that Mr. Fairford's zeal in his friend's service, needs to be quickened by mercenary motives. But report says that Mr. Alan Fairford not having yet entered on his professional career, may, in such a case as this, want the means, though he cannot want the inclination, to act with promptitude. The enclosed note, Mr. Alan Fairford must be pleased to consider as his first professional emolument; and she who sends it hopes it will be the omen of unbounded success, though the fee come from a hand so unknown as that of "GREEN MANTLE."

A bank note of 20%. was the enclosure, and the whole incident left me speechless with astonishment. I am not able to read over the beginning of my own letter, which forms the introduction to this extraor dinary communication. I only know that, though mixed with a quantity of foolery, (God knows, very much different from my present feelings,) it gives an account sufficiently accurate, of the mysterious person from whom this letter comes, and that I have neither time nor patience to separate the absurd commentary from the text, which it is so necessary you should know.

Plague on her green mantle, she can be nothing better than a fairy; she keeps possession of my head yet! All during dinner-time I was terribly absent; but, luckily, my father gave the whole credit of my reverie to the abstract nature of the doctrine, Vinco vincentem, ergo vinco te; upon which brocard of law the Professor this morning lectured. So I got an early dismissal to my own crib, and here am I studying, in one sense, vincera vincentem, to get the better of the silly passion of curiosity-I think-I think it amounts to nothing else which has taken such possession of my imagination, and is perpetually worrying me with the question-will she write or no? She will notshe will not! So says Reason, and adds, Why should Combine this warning, so strangely conveyed, with she take the trouble to enter into correspondence with the caution impressed on you by your London corresone, who, instead of a bold, alert, prompt gallant, pondent, Griffiths, against your visiting Englandproved a chickenhearted boy, and left her the whole with the character of your Laird of the Solway Lakes awkwardness of explanation, which he should have-with the lawless habits of the people on that fronmet half-way? But then, says Fancy, she will write, tier country, where warrants are not easily executed. for she was not a bit that sort of person whom you, owing to the jealousy entertained by either country Mr. Reason, in your wisdom, take her to be. She of the legal interference of the other; remember, that was disconcerted enough, without my adding to her even Sir John Fielding said to my father, that he distress by any impudent conduct on my part. And could never trace a rogue beyond the Briggend of she will write, forDumfries-think that the distinctions of Whig and Tory, Papist and Protestant, still keep that country in a loose and comparatively lawless state-think of all this, my dearest Darsie, and remember that, while at this Mount Sharon of yours, you are residing with a family actually menaced with forcible interference, and who, while their obstinacy provokes violence, are by principle bound to abstain from resistance.

By Heaven, she HAS written, Darsie, and with a vengeance!-Here is her letter, thrown into the kitchen by a cadie, too faithful to be bribed, either by money or whisky, to say more than that he received it, with sixpence, from an ordinary-looking woman, as he was plying on his station near the Cross.

66 FOR ALAN FAIRFORD, ESQUIRE, BARRISTER.

"SIR, "Excuse my mistake of to-day. I had accidentally learned that Mr. Darsie Latimer had an intimate friend and associate in a Mr. A. Fairford. When I inquired for such a person, he was pointed out to me at the Cross, (as I think the Exchange of your city is called,) in the character of a respectable elderly man-your father, as I now understand. On inquiry at Brown's Square, where I understood he resided, I used the full name of Alan, which naturally occasioned you the trouble of this day's visit. Upon further inquiry, I am led to believe that you are likely to be the person most active in the matter to which I am now about to direct your attention; and I regret much that circumstances, arising out of my own particular situation, prevent my communicating to you personally what I now apprize you of in this

manner.

"Your friend, Mr. Darsie Latimer, is in a situation of considerable danger. You are doubtless aware, that he has been cautioned not to trust himself in England-Now, if he has not absolutely transgressed this friendly injunction, he has at least approached as nearly to the menaced danger as he could do consistently with the letter of the prohibition. He has chosen his abode in a neighbourhood very perilous to him; and it is only by a speedy return to Edinburgh, or at least by a removal to some more remote part of Scotland, that he can escape the machinations of those whose enmity he has to fear. I must speak in mystery, but my words are not the less certain; and, I believe, you know enough of your friend's fortunes to be aware, that I could not write this much without being even more intimate with them than you are.

Nay, let me tell you professionally, that the legal ity of the mode of fishing practised by your friend Joshua, is greatly doubted by our best lawyers; and that, if the stake-nets be considered as actually an unlawful obstruction raised in the channel of the estuary, an assembly of persons who shall proceed, via facti, to pull down and destroy them, would not, in the eye of the law, be esteemed guilty of a riot. So, by remaining where you are, you are likely to be engaged in a quarrel with which you have nothing to do, and thus to enable your enemies, whoever these may be, to execute, amid the confusion of a general hubbub, whatever designs they may have against your personal safety. Black-fishers, poachers, and smugglers, are a sort of gentry that will not be much checked, either by your Quaker's texts, or by your chivalry. If you are Don Quixote enough to lay lance in rest, in defence of those of the stake-net, and of the sad-coloured garment, I pronounce you but a lost knight; for, as I said before, I doubt if these potent redressers of wrongs, the justices and constables, will hold themselves warranted to interfere. In a word, return, my dear Amadis; the adventure of the Solwaynets is not reserved for your worship. Come back, and I will be your faithful Sancho Panza upon a more hopeful quest. We will beat about together, in search of this Urganda, the Unknown She of the Green Mantle, who can read this, the riddle of thy fate, better than wise Eppie of Buckhaven, or Cassandra herself.

I would fain trifle, Darsie; for in debating with you, jests will sometimes go farther than arguments; but I am sick at heart, and cannot keep the ball up. If you have a moment's regard for the friendship we have so often vowed to each other, let my wishes for • Well known in the Chap-Book, called the History of Buckhaven.

once prevail over your own venturous and romantic temper. I am quite serious in thinking, that the information communicated to my father by this Mr. Herries, and the admonitory letter of the young lady, bear upon each other; and that, were you here, you might learn something from one or other, or from both, that might throw light on your birth and parentage. You will not, surely, prefer an idle whim to the prospect which is thus held out to you?

I would, agreeably to the hint I have received in the young lady's letter, (for I am confident that such is her condition,) have ere now been with you to urge these things, instead of pouring them out upon paper. But you know that the day for my trial is appointed; I have already gone through the form of being introduced to the examinators, and have gotten my titles assigned me. All this should not keep me at home, but my father would view any irregularity upon this occasion as a mortal blow to the hopes which he has cherished most fondly during his life; viz. my being called to the bar with some credit. For my own part, I know there is no great difficulty in passing these formal examinations, else how have some of our acquaintance got through them? But, to my father, these formalities compose an august and serious solemnity, to which he has long looked forward, and my absenting myself at this moment would well nigh drive him distract d. Yet I shall go altogether distracted myself, if I have not an instant assurance from you that you are hastening hither-Mean while I have desired Hannah to get your little crib into the best order possible. I cannot learn that my father has yet written to you; nor has he spoken more of his communication with Birrens work; but when I let him have some inkling of the dangers you are at present incurring, I know my request that you will return immediately, will have his cordial support.

Another reason yet-I must give a dinner, as usual, upon my admission, to our friends; and my father, laying aside all his usual considerations of economy, has desired it may be in the best style possible. Come hither then, dear Darsie! or, I protest to you, I shall send examination, admission-dinner, and guests, to the devil, and come, in person, to fetch you with a vengeance. Thine, in much anxiety, A. F.

LETTER IX.

ALEXANDER FAIRFORD, W. S., TO MR. DARSIE LATIMER.
DEAR MR. DArsie,

ligion openly, he had an eye that way. And both of these are reasons why I have hesitated to recommend him to a youth who maybe hath not altogether so well founded his opinion concerning Kirk and State, that they might not be changed by some sudden wind of doctrine. For I have observed ye, Master Darsie, to be rather tinctured with the old leaven of prelacy this under your leave; and although God forbid that you should be in any manner disaffected to the Protestant Hanoverian line, yet ye have ever loved to hear the blawing, bleezing stories which the Hieland gentlemen tell of those troublesome times, which, if it were their will, they had better pretermit, as tending rather to shame than to honour. It is come to me also by a side wind, as I may say, that you have been neighbouring more than was needful among some of the pestilent sect of Quakers—a people who own neither priest, nor king, nor civil magistrate, nor the fabric of our law, and will not depone either in civilibus or criminalibus, be the loss to the lieges what it may. Anent which heresies, it were good ye read "the Snake in the Grass," or "the Foot out of the Snare," being both well-approved tracts touching these doctrines.

Now, Mr. Darsie, ye are to judge for yourself whether ye can safely to your soul's weal remain longer among these Papists and Quakers,-these defections on the right hand, and fallings away on the left; and truly if you can confidently resist these evil examples of doctrine, I think ye may as well tarry in the bounds where ye are, until you see Mr. Herries of Birrenswork, who does assuredly know more of your matters than I thought had been communicated to any man in Scotland. I would fain have precognosced him myself on these affairs, but found him unwilling to speak out, as I have partly intimated before.

To call a new cause-I have the pleasure to tell you, that Alan has passed his private Scots Law examinations with good approbation-a great relief to my mind; especially as worthy Mr. Pest told me in my ear there was no fear of the "callant," as he familiarly called him, which gives me great heart. His public trials, which are nothing in comparison save a mere form, are to take place, by order of the Honourable Dean of Faculty, on Wednesday first; and on Friday he puts on the gown, and gives a bit chack of dinner to his friends and acquaintances, as is, you know, the custom. Your company will be wished for there, Master Darsie, by more than him, which I regret to think is impossible to have, as well by your engagements, as that our cousin, Peter Fairford, comes from the west on purpose, and we have no place to offer him but your chamber in the wall. And, to be plain with you, after my use and wont, Master Darsie, it may be as well that Alan and you do not meet till he is hefted as it were to his new calling. You are a pleasant gentleman, and full of daffing, which may well become you, as you have enough (as I understand) to uphold your merry humour. If you regard the matter wisely, you would perchance consider that a man of substance should have a douce and stead demeanour; yet you are so far from growing grave and considerate with the increase of your annual income, that the richer you become, the merrier I think you grow. But this must be at your own pleasure, so far as you are concerned. Alan, however, (overpassing my small savings,) has the world to win; and louping and laughing, as you and he were I have met with a Mr. Herries of Birrenswork, a wont to do, would soon make the powder flee out of gentleman of very ancient descent, but who hath in his wig, and the pence out of his pocket. Neverthetime past been in difficulties, nor do I know if his less, I trust you will meet when you return from affairs are yet well redd. Birrenswork says, that he your rambles; for there is a time, as the wise man believes he was very familiar with your father, whom sayeth, for gathering, and a time for casting away; he states to have been called Ralph Latimer of Lang-it is always the part of a man of sense to take the cote-Hall, in Westmoreland; and he mentioned fa- gathering time first. I remain, dear sir, your wellmily affairs, which it may be of the highest import- wishing friend, and obedient to command, ance to you to be acquainted with; but as he seemed to decline communicating them to me, I could not civilly urge him thereanent. Thus much I know, that Mr. Herries had his own share in the late desperate and unhappy matter of 1745, and was in trouble about it, although that is probably now over. Moreover, although he did not profess the Popish re

HAVING been your factor loco tutorie, or rather, I ought to say, in correctness, (since I acted without warrant from the Court,) your negotiorum gestor; that connexion occasions my present writing. And although having rendered an account of my intromissions, which have been regularly approved of, not only by yourself, (whom I could not prevail upon to look at more than the docket and sum total,) but also by the worthy Mr. Samuel Griffiths of London, being the hand through whom the remittances were made, I may, in some sense, be considered as to you functus officio; yet, to speak facetiously, I trust you will not hold me accountable as a vicious intromitter, should I still consider myself as occasionally interested in your welfare. My motives for writing, at this time, are twofold.

ALEXANDER FAIRFORD.

P. S.-Alan's Thesis is upon the title De periculo et commodo rei venditæ, and is a very pretty piece of Latinity.-Ross-House, in our neighbourhood, is nearly finished, and is thought to excel Duff-House

in ornature.

I advanced on the scene with the light step of a liberated captive; and, like John Bunyan's Pilgrim, As for the Lady of the Mantle, I will lay a wager could have found in my heart to sing as I went on that the sun so bedazzled thine eyes on that memo- my way. It seemed as if my gayety had accumulated rable morning, that every thing thou didst look upon while suppressed, and that I was, in my present joyseemed green; and notwithstanding James Wilkin-ous mood, entitled to expend the savings of the preson's experience in the Fusilecrs, as well as his nega-vious week. But just as I was about to uplift a merry tive whistle, I will venture to hold a crown that she stave, I heard, to my joyful surprise, the voices of 18 but a what-shall-call-'um after all. Let not even three or more choristers, singing, with considerable the gold persuade you to the contrary. She may success, the lively old catch,

"For all our men were very very merry,

And all our men were drinking:

There were two men of mine,

Three men of thine,

And three that belong'd to old Sir Thom o' Lyne ;
As they went to the ferry, they were very very merry,
And all our men were drinking.".

gar call a strolling fiddler. Gazing more attentively, I easily discovered that though the poor musician's eyes were open, their sense was shut, and that the ecstasy with which he turned them up to Heaven, only derived its apparent expression from his own internal emotions, but received no assistance from the As the chorus ended, there followed a loud and visible objects around. Beside him sat his female hearty laugh by way of cheers. Attracted by sounds companion, in a man's hat, a blue coat, which seemed which were so congenial to my present feelings, I also to have been an article of male apparel, and a inade towards the spot from which they came,-cau- red petticoat. She was cleaner, in person and in tiously however, for the downs, as had been repeated- clothes, than such itinerants generally are; and, havly hinted to me, had no good name: and the attrac-ing been in her day a strapping bona roba, she did tion of the music, without rivalling that of the Syrens not even yet neglect some attention to her appearance; in melody, might have been followed by similarly in- wore a large amber necklace, and silver ear-rings, and convenient consequences to an incautious amateur. had her plaid fastened across her breast with a brooch of the same metal.

I crept on, therefore, trusting that the sinuosities of the ground, broken as it was into knolls and sandpits, would permit me to obtain a sight of the musicians before I should be observed by them. As I advanced, the old ditty was again raised. The voices seemed those of a man and two boys; they were rough, but kept good time, and were managed with too much skill to belong to the ordinary country people.

"Jack look'd at the sun, and cried, Fire, fire, fire;
Jem stabled his keffel in Birkendale mire ;
Tom startled a calf, and halloo'd for a stag;
Will mounted a gate-post instead of his nag;

For all our men were very very merry,
And all our men were drinking;

There were two men of mine,

'Three men of thine,

And three that belong'd to old Sir Thom o' Lyne
As they went to the ferry they were very very merry,
For all our men were drinking."

The voices, as they mixed in their several parts, and ran through them, untwisting and again entwining all the links of the merry old catch, seemed to have a little touch of the bacchanalian spirit which they celebrated, and showed plainly that the musicians were engaged in the same joyous revel as the menyie of old Sir Thom o' Lyne. At length I came within sight of them, three in number, where they sat cosily niched into what you might call a bunker, a little sand-pit, dry and snug, and surrounded by its banks, and a screen of whins in full bloom.

The only one of the trio whom I recognised as a personal acquaintance was the notorious little Benjie, who, having just finished his stave, was cramming a huge luncheon of pie-crust into his mouth with one hand, while in the other he held a foaming tankard, his eyes dancing with all the glee of a forbidden revel; and his features, which have at all times a mischievous archness of expression, confessing the full sweetness of stolen waters, and bread eaten in secret.

The man also looked clean, notwithstanding the meanness of his attire, and had a decent silk handkerchief well knotted about his throat, under which peeped a clean owrelay. His beard, also, instead of displaying a grizzly stubble, unmowed for several days, flowed in thick and comely abundance over the breast, to the length of six inches, and mingled with his hair, with was but beginning to exhibit a touch of age. To sum up his appearance, the loose garment which I have described, was secured around him by a large old-fashioned belt, with brass studs, in which hung a dirk, with a knife and fork, its usual accompaniments. Altogether, there was something more wild and adventurous-looking about the man, than I could have expected to see in an ordinary modern crowder; and the bow which he now and then drew across the violin, to direct his little choir, was decidedly that of no ordinary performer.

You must understand that many of these observations were the fruits of after remark; for I had scarce approached so near as to get a distinct view of the party, when my friend Benjie's lurching attendant, which he calls by the appropriate name of Hemp, began to cock his tail and ears, and, sensible of my presence, flew, barking like a fury, to the place where I had meant to lie concealed till I heard another song. I was obliged, however, to jump on my feet, and intimidate Hemp, who would otherwise have bit mẹ, by two sound kicks on the ribs, which sent him howling back to his master.

Little Benjie seemed somewhat dismayed at my appearance; but, calculating on my placability, and remembering, perhaps, that the ill-used Solomon was no palfrey of mine, he speedily affected great glee, and almost in one breath assured the itinerants that I was "a grand gentleman, and had plenty of money, and was very kind to poor folk;" and informed me that this was "Willie Steenson-Wandering Williethe best fiddler that ever kittled thairm with horsehair."

There was no mistaking the profession of the male and female, who were partners with Benjie in these The woman rose and curtsied; and Wandering merry, doings. The man's long loose-bodied great- Willie sanctioned his own praises with a nod, and the coat, (wrap-rascal as the vulgar term it,) the fiddle-ejaculation, "All is true that the little boy says." case, with its straps, which lay beside him, and a small knapsack which might contain his few necessaries; a clear gray eye; features which, in contending with many a storm, had not lost a wild and careless expression of glee, animated at present, when he was exercising for his own pleasure the arts which he usually practised for bread,-all announced one of those peripatetic followers of Orpheus, whom the vul

I asked him if he was of this country. "This country!" replied the blind man-"I am of every country in broad Scotland, and a wee bit of England to the boot. But yet I am, in some sense, of this country; for I was born within hearing of the roar of Solway. Will I give your honour a touch of the auld bread-winner?"

He preluded as he spoke, in a manner which really excited my curiosity; and then taking the old tune of Galashiels for his theme, he graced it with a number of wild, complicated, and beautiful variations; during which, it was wonderful to observe how his sightless face was lighted up under the conscious pride and heartfelt delight in the exercise of his own very considerable powers.

"What think you of that, now, for threescore and twa?"

I expressed my surprise and pleasure.

A rant, man-an auld rant," said Willie; "naething like the music ye hae in your ball-houses and your playhouses in Edinbro'; but it's weel aneugh anes in a way at a dike-side.-Here's another-it's no a Scots tune, but it passes for ane--Oswald made it himsell, I reckon-he has cheated mony ane. but he canna cheat Wandering Willie."

He then played your favourite air of Roslin Castle, I strel declined this invitation also. He was engaged with a number of beautiful variations, some of which I am certain were almost extempore.

"You gang instead of Rob the Rambler! My certie, freend, ye are no blate!" answered Wandering Willie, in a tone which announced death to my frolic. But Maggie, whom the offer of the crown had not "Whisht, woman! whisht!" said the blind man, escaped, began to open on that scent with a maunangrily, shaking his locks; "dinna deave the gentle- dering sort of lecture. "O Willie! hinny Willie, man wi' your havers. Stay in a house and play to whan will ye learn to be wise? There's a crown to the gentles!-strike up when my leddy pleases, and be win for naething but saying ae man's name instead lay down the bow when my lord bids! Na, na, of anither. And, wae's me! I hae just a shilling of that's nae life for Willie.-Look out, Maggie-peer this gentleman's gieing, and a bodle of my ain; and ye out, woman, and see if ye can see Robin coming.-wunna bend your will sae muckle as to take up the Deil be in him! he has got to the lea-side of some siller that's flung at your feet! Ye will die the death smuggler's punch-bowl, and he wunna budge the of a cadger's powney in a wreath of drift! and what night, I doubt." can I do better than lie doun and die wi' you? for ye winna let me win siller to keep either you or mysell leevin."