"When I was young, like thee, Maudline Rode, a marvel happened, which amazed many-it is, and will be a lasting tale, and a wonder-for it came even as a vision, and I beheld it with these eyes. In those days, the crown of this land, which now stands so sure and so shining on the brows of him who rules us, was held as one of ambition's baubles that might be transferred by the sword to some adventurous head; and men of birth and descent were ready with trumpet and with brand to do battle for the exiled branch of the house of Stuart. Rumours of rebellions and invasions were as frequent as the winds on our heaths-and each day brought a darker and more varied tale-of risings in the east, and risings in the west-for the king abroad, and for the king at home -and each relator gave a colour and a substance to his tidings even as his wishes were. The shepherd went armed to the pas turage of his flocks-the lover went armed to the meeting with his mistress-those who loved silver and gold sought the solitary and silent place, and buried their treasure; the father and mother gazed at their sons and their daughters, and thought on the wrongs of war-and the children armed with hazel rods for spears and swords of lath, carried a mimic and venturous war with one another under the hostile banners of the lion and the bonnie white rose. Those who still loved the ancient church, were dreaded by those who loved the new; and the sectarians hated both, and hoped for the day when the jewelled mitre, would be plucked off the prelate's head -and austerity that denies itself, yet giveth not to others-and zeal, which openeth the gates of mercy, but for a tithe of mankind -should hold rule and dominion in the land. Those who had broad lands and rich heritages, wished for peace-those who had little to lose, hoped acquisitions by a convulsion-and there were many of the fiery and intractable spirits of the land who wished for strife and commotion, for the sake of variety of pursuit-and because they wished to see coronets and crowns staked on the issue of a battle. Thus, hot discussion and sore dispute, divided the people of this land. It happened on a fine summer evening, that I stopped at the dwelling of David Forester, of Wiltonhall, along with young Walter Selby of Glamora, to refresh myself after a stag hunt, on the banks of Derwent water. The mountain air was mild and balmy, and the lofty and rugged out line of Soutra-fell, appeared on a canopied back ground of sky so pure, so blue, and so still, that the earth and heaven seemed blended together. Eagles were visible, perched among the moonlight, on the peaks of the rocks; ravens roosted at a vast distance below, and where the greensward joined the acclivity of rock and stone, the flocks lay in undisturbed repose, with their fleeces shining in dew, and reflected in a broad deep lake at the bottom, so pure and so motionless, that it seemed a sea of glass. The living, or rather human portion of the picture, partook of the same silent and austere character, for inanimate nature often lends a softness, or a sternness to man—the meditative melancholy of the mountain, and the companionable garrulity of the vale, have not escaped proverbial observation. I had alighted from my horse, and seated on a little green hillock before the house, which the imagination of our mountaineers had not failed to people at times with fairies and elves-tasted some of the shepherds' curds and cream-the readiest and the sweetest beverage which rustic hospitality supplies; Walter Selby had seated himself at my feet, and behind me, stood the proprietor of Wilton-hall and his wife, awaiting my wishes with that ready and respectful frankness, which those of birth and ancestry always obtain among our mountain peasantry. A number of domestics, shepherds and maidens, stood at a distance-as much for the purpose of listening to our conversation as from the desire to encumber us with their assistance in recommencing our journey. Young lady,' said David Forester, have you heard tidings of note from the north or from the south? The Selbys are an ancient and renowned race, and in days of old held rule from sunny Carlisle to the vale of Keswick-a day's flight for a hawk.-They are now lordless and landless, but the day may soon come, when to thee I shall go hat in hand, to beg a boon, and find thee lady of thy lands again, and the noble house of Lanercost risen anew from its briers and desolation." I understood better than I wished to appear, this mysterious address of my entertainer-and was saved from the confusion of a reply, either direct or oblique, by the forward tongue of his wife. Marry, and God forbid," said she, "that ever old lady Popery should hold rule in men's homes again-not that I wholly hate the old dame either, she has really some good points in her character, and if she would put fat flesh in her pot o' Fridays, and no demand o' one a frank confession of failings and frailties, she might hold rule i' the land again for aught I care; though, I cannot say I think well of the doctrine that denies nourishment to the body in the belief of bettering the soul. That's a sad mistake in the nature of us moorland people-if a shepherd lacks a meal a minute beyond the sounding of the horn all the house hears on't-it's a religion, my lady, that will never take root again in this wild place, where men scorn the wheat and haver food and make for lack o' kitchen— the fat mutton eat the lean." The good woman of the house was interrupted in her curious speech by the arrival of one of those personages, who with a horse and pack, distribute the luxuries and the comforts of the city over the mountainous regions of the provinces. His horse, loaded with heavy panniers, came foremost, anxious for a resting place, and behind came the owner, a middle aged man, tall and robust, with hair as black as the raven, curled close beneath a very broad bonnet, and in his hand one of those measuring rods of root grown oak, piked with iron at the under end, and mounted with brass at the upper-which seemed alike adapted for defending or measuring his property. He advanced to the spot where we were seated, like an old acquaintance, asked for, and obtained lodgings for the evening, and having disposed of his horse, he took out a small box, resembling a casket, which he placed on the grass, and seating himself beside it, assumed one of those looks of mingled gravity and good humour-prepared alike for seriousness or mirth. He was not permitted to remain long in silence. Ye come from the north, Simon Packpin,” said one of the menials-one can know that by yere tongue-and as ye are a cannie lad at a hard bargain, ye can tell us in yere own sly and cannie way, if it be true, that the Highland gentlemen are coming to try if they can set with targe and claymore the crown of both lands on the brow it was made for." I looked at the person of the querist-a young man of the middle size, with a firm limb, and a frank martial mien, and something in his bearing which bespoke a higher ambition than that of tending flocks-his face too I thought I had seen before-and under very different circumstances. Good sooth, Wattie Graeme,' said another of the menials, 'ye might as well try to get back butter out o' the black 6 dog's throat, as extract a plain answer from Sleekie Simon-I asked him no farther than a month ago, if he thought we would have a change in the land soon-the moon, quoth he, will change in its season, and so maun all things human.' . But do you think,' said I, 'that the people will continue to prefer the cold blood of the man who keeps the chair, to the warm kindly English blood o' him that's far away?" Aye, aye,' quoth he, nae doubt, nae doubt —when we wou'd drink ditch-water rather than red wine.' But, said I, would it not be better for the land, that we had the throne made steadfast under our own native king than have it shaken by every blast that blows, as I hear it will soon be?-Say ye sae!' said he, sae ye sae! better have a finger off than ay wagging,'and so he continued for an hour to reply to every plain question with such dubious responses of northern proverb, that I left him as wise as I found him. This historical sketch of the pedlar obtained the notice of the farmer's wife, who with the natural impatience of womankind, thus abruptly questioned him, we honest moorland people hate all mystery; if you are a man loyal in your heart and upright in your dealings, you may remain and share our supper— but if ye be a spy from these northern marauders, who are coming with houghs as bare as their swords to make a raid and a foray upon us-arise, I say and depart-but stay, tell us truly, when this hawk of the old uncannie nest of the Stuarts will come to wreck and herrie us? To all this, Simon the pedlar opposed a look of the most impenetrable good humour and gravity, and turning over his little oaken box, undid a broad strap and buckle-applied a key to the lock-took out combs, and knives, and spectacles, and some of those cheap ornaments for the bosom and the hair, and all the while he continued chanting over the following curious song-addressed obliquely to the good dame's queriesand perfectly intelligible to all who knew the poetic language and allegorical meaning, which the adherents of the house of Stuart employed to convey tidings of importance to each other. THE CUCKOO'S A BONNIE BIRD. 1. The Cuckoo is a gentle bird, and gentle is his note, For amid the green woods growing, and the fresh flowers' blooming throng, Forth comes the gentle Cuckoo with his meek and modest song. 2. The eagle slays the little lambs on Skiddaw high and boar, The hawk, he covets carnage, and the gray glede griens for gore, 3. The woodcock comes, and with the swan brings winter on his wing, 4. The Cuckoo is a princely bird, and we will wait awhile, And welcome him with shout and song, in the morn of green April; "I could not help glancing my eye on this curious and demure traveller; but the perfect simplicity of his looks baffled all the scrutiny which the mysterious import of his song induced me to make. Walter Graeme, one of the shepherds, sat down at his side, desirous of purchasing some of his commodities, but the frank mountaineer was repulsed in an attempt to dip his hands among the motley contents of the pack-and had it come to the arbitration of personal strength, there could be little doubt of the issuefor the merchant had a willing hand and a frame of iron. Silence ensued for a little while-the pedlar, who for some time had stolen a look at me, seemed all at once to come to some conclusion how to proceed, and fastening up his little box, approached me with a look of submission and awe, Fair lady, the pedlar is but a poor man, who earns an honest penny among the peasantry-but he has a reverence and a love for the noble names which grace our verse and our chivalry-and who has an English heart that knows not-and beats not high at the sound of Selby's name—and who bears a Scottish heart that sorrows not for the wreck and the desolation of our most ancient and most noble foe. I tell thee, lady, that I honour thee more-lady, as thou seemest to be, but of a |