| of cold water. was constantly fixed on the ceiling, and the low thick mut- on his breeches, and proceed in all other respects stark tering of his lips had been incessant during the night. At naked to the basin. Arrived at the basin, Hortator thus four o'clock, he bounced out of bed, escaped unnoticed, pass-speaketh,-" Dip the face two or three times in a basin ed the outer door of the hospital, and ran, naked as he was, several yards in the direction of his home; but here he was overtaken by the people of the pesthouse; he had just sunk down quite exhausted. The strength of death, which had carried him thus far, was now gone; and with the help of two Arabs, he was borne back to his dungeon. (for it deserved no better name,) trailing his feet, and his head sunk on his bosom. I saw him two hours after this: the bubo was the size of a small orange, the two livid spots had become large carbuncles, his eyes were glazed, yet unnaturally brilliant, and his fingers were playing with the bed. clothes. At dusk the rattling in the throat was accompanied with spasms of the muscles of the neck; these went off, and after a couple of hours, without any apparent suffering, he died."-Vol. I. p. 233-6. We recommend Mr Madden's work to our readers as one full of interesting information; and, on the whole, considering that the author is a young man, as wonderfully free of faults. 66 Ax immense quantity of drivel has found its way into books professing to give an account of the best mode of preserving health; but of all the drivel it has ever been our lot to peruse, that contained in this work, entitled the Simplicity of Health," is the most pre-eminent. The author, who, by his own confession, does not belong to the medical profession, is evidently a weak, hypochondriacal, middle-aged, unmarried man, living in some obscure way in the heart of London, a clerk probably in some public office, and an old wife in every thing but external forma- | tion. This poor, white, dying-looking object, chooses to christen himself "Hortator," and has the insolence to suppose that he can give instructions to "much better men" on the proper mode of regulating their stomach and bowels. The subject is a nasty one at the best, and none but a "lily-livered knave" would voluntarily undertake it. However, if Hortator had gone a single step beyond the old advice, that we should not eat or drink too much, and that we should take neither too much nor too little exercise, we could have forgiven him; but the pompous blockhead has only broken down this old maxim into fifty thousand little bits, and his way of administering each little bit is to us worse than a dose of ipecacuanha. We shall give our readers a specimen or two, and we shall endeavour to select the most ridiculous, rather than the most disgusting, for this is the only alternative. The eyes may be either open on immersion, or, as it may be easier on beginning, while under the water. After this, water should be squirted briskly into the eyes by a syringe. On the first trials they may be closed, and opened immediately after the dash; but they will soon be able to bear the shock when open. Water should then be squirted against each ear. You must next, with the hands, and using soap, wash well the armpits," &c. &c. Is it not plain from this, that the poor squirting wretch must have bleared and bloodshot eyes, filled with rheum, hairs, straws, spiders' webs, and all manner of unclean things? Imagine a beautiful girl at her morning toilet, presenting one of this dirty old booby's squirts at her clear blue laughing eyes!-Washing under the armpits, too! Faugh! But the washing business is not yet over :— "In some time after, say about half an hour, the eyes should be bathed with warm water. The simplest way to do this is with a soft linen rag, kept for the purpose. The eyes should then be well dried with a clean towel." All this, we are persuaded, would not keep Hortator's eyes clean for one quarter of an hour; there is a natural foulness about them, which the "multitudinous seas” could not wash away. 66 Passing over, with great regret, the exquisite chapter on Shaving, we come to something touching the proper treatment of the feet, which we cannot omit. Upon the question relating to boots or shoes, quoth Hortator, were my opinion asked, I should be in favour of boots, and would recommend them to all who can bear the expense. They may save one from hurts in the ankles and shins, from scalds, and from that most direful of all accidents, the horrible effects of the bite of a mad dog!" They may indeed, and this is the reason why Hortator wears them. Yet even in boots, "walking should not be carried to excess, or it may be injurious."-" Persons have sometimes suffered seriously by going out on long pedestrious excursions with others of superior powers. Some can walk very fast, even FOUR miles an hour (!) and continue it for the day; while there are many who could not, without much labour, go at a greater rate than two for several hours” (!)—" A man who cannot, without distressing exertion, walk more than fifteen or twenty miles, should not go out with those who think little of thirty or forty. If, contrary to a previous understanding," (for Heaven's sake, attend to the wisdom of this advice,) "he find them determined to go farther than may suit his strength, he should turn back in time." We wonder how many miles Hortator could walk; and we should like to After a conceited and egotistical Introduction, in which see the creature, whose notion is that four miles an hour the body has inserted Mr Abernethy's "character of his is "very fast ;"-he must be descended from a long line work by permission,” and which character is just as slight- of tailors, who have bred in and in, till the imbecile race ly laudatory as it could well be, we come to the chapter has ended in the scarecrow who has spawned the “Simwhich contains Hortator's first rules for the preservation plicity of Health." After a walk of a mile and a half, of health. It is a chapter on Washing. Hortator, at Hortator has doubtless blisters on his feet, and he is the outset, like a bilious Cockney as he is, lays it down therefore able to talk with peculiar unction on that ima safe position," that "every ailment, however trif- portant subject. He openeth his mouth and saith-" For ling, even a toothach or a corn on the toe," (and of blisters on the feet, from walking, there are numerous course the prick of a pin,) "contributes its share in remedies recorded," (by our best historians, we presume.) abridging life." This "safe position" being first esta- "By improper treatment, they are often long in healing. blished, it necessarily follows, that the most momentary Old soldiers (!) ought to be able to give good information disagreeable sensation should be scrupulously avoided. on the subject; yet we are still without any certain preHence one of the ninny's first rules is,—“ No one should ventive or cure. I can only recommend my own practice, rise immediately on awakening; if one be determined or which is, to let the water out with a needle on stepping into obliged then to get up, he should remain two or three bed, and rub the part with tallow-candle grease." This is minutes until he be perfectly collected. He should next a splendid discovery, and how vivid the picture it presents throw off the quilt, or some of the outside covering, so to the mind! We have the whole scene before us. We that he may cool gradually, and remain a minute or two see Hortator" stepping into bed" with a needle in one longer." Was there ever such a hen? Instead of spring-hand, the seat of honour of a tallow candle in the other, ing up light and rosy into the air of morning, the shivering spoony lies" gradually cooling," and gathering together all his courage for the mighty effort he is about to make. But suppose him up at last. He is then to pull as and an immense yellow-looking blister on his heel ;—we see the needle pierce the cuticle, the gush of water, the instant application of the tallow candle, and the clean and comfortable air with which Hortator then wraps him up in the blankets, resigning himself to his nightly snore. Perhaps, however, instead of the foot being blistered, it is only a toe that has become tender. In that case, listen to our oracle:-"Whenever a toe becomes tender, roll without delay a strip of clean old" (why old ?)" linen round it, and there let it lie," (how long?) " for a corn is often the consequence, but this will prevent it." So much for the feet; and now for a few miscellaneous specimens of Hortator's wisdom. The History of Scotland, from the Earliest Period to the Middle of the Ninth Century. By the Reverend Alexander Low, A. M., Clatt, Aberdeenshire, Corresponding Member of the Society of Scottish Antiquaries. Edinburgh. Bell & Bradfute. 1826. THE author of this work is evidently a man of good sense in what regards the business of life; he is possessed of a large stock of candour, and we have no doubt is a respectable and useful preacher. Noticing his work, as we do, because it has hitherto been almost unnoticed, and because our attention has been particularly requested to it, we wish to be as lenient with it as is consistent with the impartial discharge of our critical duty. We must remark, however, that the subject Mr Low has chosen is not fit for a history. It is better adapted for an essay-the form which his work first assumed. All history should be founded on the narratives of eye-witnesses of the events which took place during the period described. But it remains to be proved, that one such narrative exists for the use of him who seeks to compose a history of Scotland previous to the eleventh century. His only materials are, first, accidental notices of contemporary foreigners; and, second, traditionary tales committed to writing in long subsequent ages. We shall endeavour to appreciate, in as few words as possible, the value of both as historical evidence. With regard to the first-the notices of the Scottish nation by contemporary foreigners—the authors, in whose or at a later period-priests who had come in contact with the Scottish clergy. Now, the two former, let it be observed, looked with a sovereign contempt on all other nations, and rarely deemed their manners and customs worthy of more than the most cursory examination. Moreover, it does not appear that they were acquainted with the language of the Scots; or that they ever kept up any lengthened amicable intercourse with them. Final Upon the subject of exercise we have the following inimitable passages :-" There is another exercise particularly well suited for those confined to the house, or who may be in prison-going up and down stairs (!!) I can indeed hardly point out any thing better."-" To gentlemen who wish for a regular in-door exercise before breakfast, I recommend that they polish their boots and shoes, after being hard-brushed by the servant. (!) There is nothing like a kind of task, and they would find this serviceable to the chest and arms, to expectoration, and to general warmth."-" Ladies of rank or independence may be said to take no exercise at all save dancing. Now I promise them that their health would be improved by smart walking, going up and down stairs, and by standing occasionally." When was there ever an idiot who entertained such ideas concerning exercise as these? The man ought to have his head shaved. If more evidence is necessary to show that he is stark-mad, read the following detached sentences:-" Angling in fresh water is, of all sports, the most injurious to the health." [The smokedried Cockney!] "Curtains to beds are injurious, as ex-writings these are found, were either Romans or Greeks, cluding the free circulation of air;-in the married state, they are, however, become, I may say, indispensable, from the decorum necessary to be preserved in the better walks of civilized life; but they might surely not be closed until morning, when the domestics or any of the family may have occasion to enter, which would answer every purpose of delicacy or appearance." [What does the last of the tailors mean by this? Is it a curtain-lecture that the creature is afraid of, or what?] "Cold feet are a seriously, the greater number of them give us merely such ininconvenience, and may be reckoned amongst our ills, as their annoyance, being chiefly felt in bed, prevents our natural rest; and though I have known stout old men subject to them, I do not think that they ought to be treated lightly, for they must have their share in abridging life." [We daresay Hortator altogether is a cold, thin anatomy, with a blue nose, and fingers like a bunch of chicken bones.] "As for Lord Byron, I have no hesitation in saying, that strong coffee caused his death." (!) [Impudent old wife that he is, to pretend to breathe the name of Lord Byron in his whole book!] "Toasted cheese may be eaten repeatedly with safety, yet still there is al-plied what we have said of his masters, the latter knew ways danger. I knew an instance of a man who generally supped on it for many years. I think it probable that he might have taken it two thousand times—yet, after such long habitude, it curdled in his stomach one evening, and the most powerful medicines being unable to reduce the coagulation, death ensued." [The moral of this is, that after eating cheese two thousand times, we ought to be very cautious about eating it the two thousandth and first time.] "The neatness of rooms, and the progress of polished manners, prohibit us from spitting, but it is injurious to swallow a spit when it is clearly a natural effort, accompanied or thrown up by a gentle cough." [The nasty beast!] We shall insult the good sense of our readers with no more of this doting nonsense. The " Simplicity of Health" is now in the second edition; how the first happened to sell we do not know, but we are persuaded it was bought by none but old women above seventy, and all that they could learn from it was, that cold feet, or a twinge of rheumatism, would infallibly shorten their days. We have no patience with a piece of humbug like this; and the only satisfaction it affords us is, the satisfaction of applying to its posteriors the nippiest part of our critical tawse. formation as they themselves obtained at second-hand; and, if we consider how even the best modern traveller, despite of all his intelligence and that community of thought and feeling now possessed by all civilised nations, misapprehends both what he sees and hears, we shall obtain a pretty accurate notion of the value of statements made by persons labouring under the disadvantages to which these ancient writers were subjected. With regard to Nennius and venerable Bede, in whose writings notices of Scottish affairs now and then occur, the former was a Romanised Briton, and to him may almost be ap little of Scotland but its priesthood. Then, in the second place, as to the traditionary tales which have been arrested at an earlier or later period of their progress, and have received the unalterable impress of written expression, it is evident that but slight authority can be attached to them. When a man tells us what he has himself witnessed, the correctness of the statement is materially affected, even in this simple and direct transmission of knowledge, by the accuracy of his perceptive powers, the vividness of his imagination, the strength of his memory, and the precision of his language. But still farther, when a man tells us what he has heard from another, the degree of correctness with which his previous knowledge of similar facts enables him to image to himself the story of the other, influences materially even the absolute truth of the statement he makes to us. Every additional intermediate person modifies more or less the circumstances of the story; and hence it comes, that traditions, however much they may have their origin in truth, never can be looked upon in any other light but as pleasing and occasionally profitable food for the imagination. An apt illustration of their value occurs to us at this moment. The Castle of Threave, in Galloway, was the property of the Douglasses, and was taken by the royal forces about the time of the overthrow of the last Earl of that house. Contemporary history sufficiently establishes the abuses of the feudal prerogative perpetrated in Galloway by the house of Douglas; but if we listen to the tradition of the peasantry, the tale runs thus :-" The castle was formerly inhabited by robbers; it was long impregnable, but at last Mons Meg was sent from Edinburgh to take it. She was placed on that hill which you see to the right. At the first shot, the ball passed through the room where the robbers were sitting at breakfast, and knocked the cup and saucer out of the captain's hand; whereupon they all ran up to the top of the castle and surrendered." Few traditions, we believe, have been so ludicrously distorted by the changed customs of a country as this; but the vital truth of all that have survived so long has equally, though less perceptibly, suffered. Such, then, is the evidence upon which all that we know of the affairs of Scotland, previous to the introduction of the Saxon dynasty, rests. A history, constructed out of such materials, must necessarily stand in the same relation to an authentic history, that the mock-sun, begot by reflection on a cloud, bears to the orb of day. But even these materials and the industry of our antiquaries has already amassed a large quantity of them have never yet been used as they might be. He who is able properly to arrange, classify, and appreciate them, will construct out of them a preliminary chapter to the history of Scotland—a prelude to that wild symphony :more they cannot yield. On Mr Low, we are willing to bestow the praise due to much industrious research, and a considerable display of learning and ingenuity; and we are somewhat surprised that his work should not be better known. The Anthology; Midsummer, 1829. An Annual Reward THIS is a very suitable present to put into the hands of young people when they come home from school for the summer vacation. It does not certainly present the attractions of our winter Annuals ;-it has not the gorgeous mezzotinto the dazzling line-engraving—the crimson silk cover-or the fanciful case; but the Anthology is well printed, neat, though not gaudy; and, on opening it, we espy a very pretty wreath of roses, hyacinths, tulips, carnations, and other flowers, in the centre of which may be inscribed the name of the beloved daughter or son, niece or nephew, to whom the book is to be presented. It is a book of selections, made with taste and discrimination. Its contents are-Curiosities in Zoology, Botany, and Natural History-Tales, " grave and gay"—Apo Sharpe's London Magazine. No. III. For September. logues and Anecdotes-Extracts from interesting Voyages 1829. THIS is the fairest to the eye of all our Magazines; neither is it, like some things which are fair to the eye, bitter to the taste. Its literary merits are always respectable; for, in addition to its editors, several writers of acknowledged eminence contribute regularly to its pages. In the present number, the article which pleases us most is a humorous sketch, called "Sighmon Dumps," which we suppose to be from the pen either of Theodore Hooke, or one of the Smiths, that is, Horace or James. is also a tolerable article by Mudford, though somewhat coarse, as is usual with him, entitled "Confessions of a There Suicide." The tale with which the number opens, called "The Betrothed," and the review of Lady Morgan's "Book of the Boudoir," are also good. Then for poetry, we have, among other things, some very sweet stanzas by Mrs Hemans, and a clever jeu-d'esprit by Thomas Haynes Bayley, which we shall extract. It is a travestie of his own popular song, "I'd be a butterfly:" "I'D BE A PARODY. "I'd be a parody, made by a ninny, On some little song with a popular tune, (Who cares for sense at St James's in June?) I'd be a parody made by a ninny, And sung in the Strand by the light of the moon. "Oh, could I pick up a thought or a stanza, A nightingale loves, he supposes he sings! and Travels-Moral, Eloquent, and Miscellaneous Pieces forms us, that if the present attempt succeed, the series --and a judicious proportion of Poetry. The Preface inwill be continued. We hope it may succeed. MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. WAT THE PROPHET. By the Ettrick Shepherd. ABOUT sixty years ago there departed this life an old man, who for sixty years previous to that was known only by the name of Wat the Prophet. I am even uncertain what his real surname was, though he was familiarly known to the most of my relatives of that day, and I was intimately acquainted with his nephew and heir, whose name was Paterson, yet I hardly think that was the prophet's surname, but that the man I knew was a maternal nephew. So far I am shortcoming at the very outset of my tale, for in truth I never heard him distinguished by any other name than Wat the Prophet. He must have been a very singular person in every respect. In his youth he was so much more clever and acute than his fellows, that he was viewed as a sort of phenomenon, or rather "a kind of being that had mair airt than his ain." It was no matter what Wat tried, for either at mental or manual exertion, he excelled; and his gifts were so miscellaneous, that it was no wonder his most intimate acquaintances rather stood in awe of him. At the sports of the field, at the exposition of any part of Scripture, at prayer, and at mathematics, he was altogether unequalled. By this, I mean in the sphere of his acquaintance in the circle in which he moved, for he was the son of a respectable farmer who had a small property. In the last-mentioned art his comprehension is said to He seemed to have an inhave been truly wonderful. tuitive knowledge of the science of figures from beginning to end, and needed but a glance at the rules to outgo his masters. But this was not all. In all the labours of the field his God is in heaven, and we are upon the earth, and it is progress was equally unaccountable. He could with per- not given to mortal man to scale the heavenly regions, or fect ease have mown as much hay as two of the best men, come into the presence of the Almighty.' And he said, sown as much, reaped as much, shorn as many sheep,Has thy learning and thy knowledge carried thee no highand smeared as many, and with as little extra exertion er than this? Knowest thou not that God is present in could have equalled the efforts of three ordinary men at this wild glen, the same as in the palaces of light and any time. As for ploughing, or any work with horses, glory,-that his presence surrounds us at this moment,—— he would never put a hand to it, for he then said he had and that he sees all our actions, hears our words, and not the power of the labour himself. However unaccount- knows the inmost thoughts of our hearts?' able all this may be, it is no fabrication; I have myself "And I said, Yes, I know it.' heard several men tell, who were wont to shear and smear sheep with him, when he was a much older man than they, that even though he would have been engaged in some fervent demonstration, in spite of all they could do "he was aye popping off twa sheep, or maybe three, for their ane." "Then, are you ready and willing at this moment,' said he, to step into his presence, and avow the sentiments which you have of late been cherishing?' "And I said, 'I would rather have time to think the matter over again.' "Alack! poor man!' said he; so you have never been considering that you have all this while been in his immediate presence, and have even been uttering thy blasphemous sentiments aloud to his face, when there was none to hear but He and thyself.' "And I said, Sir, a man cannot force his belief.' "And he said, Thon sayest truly; but I will endeavour to convince thee.'" Here a long colloquy ensued about the external and internal evidences of the Christian religion, which took Wat nearly half a day to relate; but he still maintained his point. He asked his visitant twice who he was, but he declined telling him, saying, he wanted his reason convinced, and not to take his word for any thing. I could multiply anecdotes of this kind without number, but these were mere atoms of the prophet's character-a sort of excrescences, which were nevertheless in keeping with the rest, being matchless of their kind. He was intended by his parents for the church—that is, the church of the covenant, to which they belonged. I know not if Wat had consented thereto, but his education tended that way. However, as he said himself, he was born for a higher destiny, which was, to reveal the future will of God to mankind for ever and ever. I have been told that he committed many of his prophecies to writing; and I believe it, for he was a scholar, and a man of rather supernatural abilities; but I have never been able to find any of them, though I still have hopes of recovering a part. Their conversation ended, by this mysterious sage leadI have often heard fragments of them, but they were re-ing Wat away by a path which he did not know, which cited by ignorant country people, who, never having un- was all covered with a cloud of exceeding brightness. At derstood them themselves, could not make them compre-length they came to a house like a common pavilion, which hensible to others. But the history of his call to the prophecy I have so often heard, that I think I can state the particulars, although a little confused in my recollection of them. This event occurred about this time one hundred years, on an evening in spring, as Wat was going down a wild glen, which I know full well. "I was in a contemplative mood," (he said, for he told it to any that asked him,) "and was meditating on the mysteries of redemption, and doubting, grievously doubting, the merits of an atonement by blood; when, to my astonishment in such a place, there was one spoke to me close behind, saying, in the Greek language, Is it indeed so? Is thy faith no better rooted ?' ་ "And I turned about, for the voice seemed still behind me, turn as I would, and at length I perceived dimly the figure of an old man, of singular aspect and dimensions, close by me. His form was exceedingly large and broad, and his face shone with benignity; his beard hung down to his girdle, and he had sandals on his feet, which covered his ankles. His right arm and his breast were bare, but he had a crimson mantle over his right shoulder, part of which covered his head, and came round his waist. Having never seen such a figure, or dress, or countenance before, I took him for an angel, sent from above to rebuke me; so I fell at his feet to worship him, or rather to entreat forgiveness for a sin which I had not power to withstand. But he answered me in these words: Rise up, and bow not to me, for I am thy fellow-servant, and they entered, but all was solemn silence, and they heard nobody moving in it, and Wat asked his guide where they were now. "This is the place where heavenly gifts are distributed to humanity," said the reverend apostle; "but they are now no more required, being of no repute. No one asks for them, nor will they accept of them when offered, for worldly wisdom is all and all with the men of this age. Their preaching is a mere farce; an ostentatious parade to show off great and shining earthly qualifications, one-third of the professors not believing one word of what they assert. The gift of prophecy is denied and laughed at; and all revelation made to man by dreams or visions utterly disclaimed, as if the Almighty's power of communicating with his creatures were not only shortened, but cut off for ever. This fountain of inspiration, once so crowded, is now, you see, a dreary solitude." “It was, in truth, a dismal-looking place, for in every chamber, as we passed along, there were benches and seats of judgment, but none to occupy them; the green grass was peeping through the seams of the flooring and chinks of the wall, and never was there a more appalling picture of desolation. "At length, in the very innermost chamber, we came to three men sitting in a row, the middle one elevated above the others; but they were all sleeping at their posts, and looked as if they had slept there for a thousand years, for their garments were mouldy, and their faces ghastly and withered. I did not know what to do or say, for I looked at my guide, and he seemed overcome with sorrow; but thinking was ill manners for an intruder not to speak, I said, Sirs, I think you are drowsily inclined?' but none of them moved. At length my guide said, in a loud voice, Awake, ye servants of the Most High! Or is your sleep to be everlasting ?' "On that they all opened their eyes at once, and stared at me, but their eyes were like the eyes of dead men, and no one of them moved a muscle, save the middlemost, who pointed with a pale haggard hand to three small books, or scrolls, that lay on the bench before them. "Then my guide said, Put forth thine hand, and choose one from these. They are all divine gifts, and in these latter days rarely granted to any of the human race.' One was red as blood, the other pale, and the third green; the latter was farthest from me, and my guide said, 'Ponder well before you make your choice. It is a sacred mystery, and from the choice you make, your destiny is fixed through time and eternity.' I then stretched out my hand, and took the one farthest from me, and he said, 'It is the will of the Lord; so let it be! That which you have chosen is the gift of the spirit of prophecy. From henceforth you must live a life of sufferance and tribulation, but your life shall be given you for a proof, in order that you may reveal to mankind all that is to befall them in the latter days.' And I opened the book, and it was all written in mystic characters, which I could not decipher nor comprehend; and he said, 'Put up the book in thy bosom, and preserve it as thou wouldst do the heart within thy breast; for as long as thou keepest that book, shall thy natural life remain, and the spirit of God remain with thee, and whatsoever thou sayest in the spirit, shall come to pass. But beware that thou deceive not thyself; for, if thou endeavour to pass off studied speeches, and words of the flesh for those of the spirit, woe be unto thee! It had been better for thee that thou never hadst been born. Put up the book; thou canst not understand it now, but it shall be given thee to understand it, for it is an oracle of the most high God, and its words and signs fail not. Go thy ways, and return to the house of thy fathers and thy kinsfolk.' “And I said, Sir, I know not where to go, for I cannot tell by what path you brought me hither.' And he took me by the hand, and led me out by a back-door of the pavilion; and we entered a great valley, which was all in utter darkness, and I could perceive through the gloom that many people were passing the same way with ourselves; and I said, ' Sir, this is dreadful! What place is this?' And he said, 'This is the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Many of those you see will grope on here for ever, and never get over, for they know not whither they go, or what is before them. But see'st thou nothing beside?' "And I said, I see a bright and shining light beyond, whose rays reach even to this place. That,' said he, 'is the light of the everlasting Gospel; and to those to whom it is given to perceive that beacon of divine love, the passage over this valley is easy. I have shown it to you; but if you keep that intrusted to your care, you shall never enter this valley again, but live and reveal the will of God to man till mortality shall no more remain. You shall renew your age like the eagles, and be refreshed with the dews of renovation from the presence of the Lord. Sleep on now, and take your rest, for I must leave you again in this world of sin and sorrow. Be you strong, and overcome it, for men will hold you up to reproach and ridicule, and speak all manner of evil of you; but see that you join them not in their voluptuousness and iniquity, and the Lord be with you!'" There is no doubt that this is a confused account of the prophet's sublime vision, it being from second hands that I had it; and, for one thing, I know that one-half of his relation is not contained in it. For the consequences I can avouch. From that time forth he announced his mission, and began a-prophesying to such families as he was sent to. But I forgot to mention a very extraordinary fact, that this vision of his actually lasted nine days and nine nights, and at the end of that time he found himself on the very individual spot in the glen where the voice first spoke to him, and so much were his looks changed, that, when he went in, none of the family knew him. He mixed no more with the men of the world, but wandered about in wilds and solitudes, and when in the spirit, he prophesied with a sublimity and grandeur never equalled. He had plenty of money, and some property to boot, which his father left him; but these he never regarded, but held on his course of severe abstemiousness, often subsisting on bread and water, and sometimes for days together on water alone, from some motive known only to himself. He had a small black pony on which he rode many years, and which he kept always plump and fat. This little animal waited upon him in all his fastings and prayings, with unwearied patience and affection. There is a well, situated on the south side of a burn, called the Earny Cleuch, on the very boundary between the shires of Dumfries and Selkirk. It is situa ted in a most sequestered and lonely place, and is called to this day the Prophet's Well, from the many pilgrimages that he made to it; for it had been revealed to him in one of his visions that this water had some divine virtue, partaking of the nature of the water of life. At one time he lay beside this well for nine days and nights, the pony feeding beside him all that time, and though there is little doubt that he had some food with him, no body knew of any that he had; and it was believed that he fasted all that time, or at least subsisted on the water of that divine well. Some men with whom he was familiar-for indeed he was respected and liked by every body, the whole tenor of his life having been so inoffensive ; — -some of his friends, I say, tried to reason him into a belief of his mortality, and that he would taste of death like other men; but that he treated as altogether chimerical, and not worth answering; when he did answer, it was by assuring them, that as long as he kept his mystic scroll, and could drink of his well, his body was proof against all the thousand shafts of death. His unearthly monitor appeared to him very frequently, and revealed many secrets to him, and at length disclosed to him that he was STEPHEN, the first martyr for the Gospel of Christ. Our prophet, in the course of time, grew so familiar with him, that he called him by the friendly name of Auld Steenie, and told his friends when he had seen him, and part of what he had told him, but never the whole. When not in his visionary and prophetic moods, he sometimes indulged in a little relaxation, such as draftplaying and fishing; but in these, like other things, he quite excelled all compeers. He was particularly noted for killing salmon, by throwing the spear at a great distance. He gave all his fish away to poor people, or such as he favoured that were nearest to him at the time; so that either for his prophetic gifts, or natural bounty, the prophet was always a welcome guest, whether to poor or rich. The He prophesied for the space of forty years, foretelling many things that came to pass in his lifetime, and many which have come to pass since his death. I have heard of a parable of his, to which I can do no justice, of a certain woman who had four sons, three of whom were legitimate, and the other not. The latter being rather uncultivated in his manners, and not so well educated as his brethren, his mother took for him ample possessions at a great distance from the rest of the family. young blade succeeded in his farming speculations ama. zingly, and was grateful to his parent, and friendly with his brethren in all their interchanges of visits. But when the mother perceived his success, she sent and demanded a tenth from him of all he possessed. This rather astounded the young man, and he hesitated about compliance in parting with so much, at any rate. But the parent insisted on her right to demand that, or any sum which she chose, and the teind she would have. The lad, not wishing to break with his parent and benefactor, bade her say no more about it, and he would give her the full value of that she demanded as of his own accord; but she would have it in no other way than as her own proper right. On this the headstrong and powerful knave took the law on his mother; won, and ruined her; so that she and her three remaining sons were reduced to beggary. Wat then continued: “And now it is to yourselves I speak this, ye children of my people, for this evil is nigh you, even at your doors. There are some here who will not |