offensive to him than such an offer, as he considered

the wild animals as his subjects, and never failed to

avenge their destruction. He condescended further

to inform him, that he was, like himself, mortal, though

of years far exceeding the lot of common humanity;

and (what I should not have had an idea of) that he

hoped for salvation. He never, he added, fed on any thing that had life, but lived in the summer, on wortleberries, and in winter on nuts and apples, of which he had great store in the woods. Finally, he invited his new acquaintance to accompany him home, and partake his hospitality; an offer which the youth was on the point of accepting, and was just going to spring across the brook, (which if he had done, says

Elizabeth, the dwarf would certainly have torn him

in pieces,) when his foot was arrested by the voice of

his companion, who thought he had tarried long; and,

on looking round again, ‘the wee brown man was

fled.’ The story adds, that he was imprudent enough

to slight the admonition, and to sport over the moors

on his way homewards; but soon after his return, he

fell into a lingering disorder, and died within the year.”


And gaily shines the Fairy-land—
But all is glistening show.—P. 175

No fact respecting Fairy-land seems to be better ascertained than the fantastic and illusory nature of their apparent pleasure and splendour. It has been already noticed in the former quotations from Dr Grahame's entertaining volume, and may be confirmed by the following Highland tradition: “A woman, whose new-born child had been conveyed by them into their secret abodes, was also carried thither herself, to remain, however, only until she could suckle her infant. She, one day, during this period, observed the Shi'ichs busily employed in mixing various ingredients in a boiling caldron; and, as soon as the composition was prepared, she remarked that they all carefully anointed their eyes with it, laying the remainder aside for future use. In a moment when they were all absent, she also attempted to anoint her eyes with the precious drug, but had time to apply it to one eye only, when the Daoine Shi' returned. But with that eye she was henceforth enabled to see everything as it really passed in their secret abodes. She saw every object, not as she hitherto had done, in deceptive splendour and elegance, but in its genuine colours and form. The gaudy ornaments of the apartment were reduced to the walls of a gloomy cavern. Soon after, having discharged her office, she was dismissed to her own home. Still, however, she retained the faculty of see. ing, with her medicated eye, everything that was done, anywhere in her presence, by the deceptive art of the order. One day, amidst a throng of people, she chanced to observe the Shi'ich, or man of peace, in whose possession she had left her child; though to every other eye invisible. Prompted by maternal affection, she inadvertently accosted him, and began to inquire after the welfare of her child. The man of peace, astonished at being thus recognized by one of mortal race, demanded how she had been enabled to discover him. Awed by the terrible frown of his countenance, she acknowledged what she had done. IIe spat in her eye, and extinguished it forever.”— GRAILAME's Sketches, p. 116–118. It is very remarkable, that this story, translated by Dr. Grahame from popular Gaelic tradition, is to be found in the Otia Imperialia of Gervase of Tilbury. A work of


1 [This story is still current in the moors of Staffordshire, and adapted by the peasantry to their own meridian. I have repeatedly heard it told, exactly as here, by rustics who could not read. My last authority was a nailer near Cheadle.—R. JAMIESON.]

[One other legend, in a similar strain, lately communicated by a very intelligent young lady, is given, principally because it furnishes an opportunity of pursuing an ingenious idea suggested by Mr. Scott, in one of his learned notes to the Lady of the Lake –

“A young man roaming one day through the forest, observed a number of persons all dressed in green, issuing from one of those round eminences which are commonly accounted fairy hills. Each of them in succession called upon a person by name, to fetch his horse. A caparisoned steed instantly appeared: they all mounted, and sallied forth into the regions of air. The young man, like Ali Baba in the Arabian Nights, ventured to pronounce the same name, and called for his horse. The steed immediately appeared; he mounted, and was soon joined to the fairy choir. He remained with them for a year, going about with them to fairs and weddings, and feasting, though unseen by mortal eyes, on the victuals that were exhibited on those occasions. They had one day gone to a wedding, where the cheer was abundant. During the feast, the bridegroom sneezed. The young man, according to the usual custom, said, “God bless you!' The fairies were offended at the pronunciation of the sacred name, and assured him, that if he dared to repeat it, they would punish him. The bridegroom sneezed a second time. He repeated his blessing; they threatened more tremendous vengeance. He

great interest might be compiled upon the origin of popular fiction, and the transmission of similar tales from age to age; and from country to country. The mythology of one period would then appear to pass into the romance of the next century, and that into the nursery-tale of the subsequent ages. Such an investigation, while it went greatly to diminish our ideas of the richness of human invention, would also show, that these fictions, however wild and childish, possess such charms for the populace, as enable them to penetrate into countries unconnected by manners and language, and having no apparent intercourse, to afford the means of transmission. It would carry me far beyond my bounds, to produce instances of this community of fable, among nations who never borrowed from each other anything intrinsically worth learning. Indeed, the wide diffusion of popular fictions may be compared to the facility with which straws and feathers are dispersed abroad by the wind, while valuable metals cannot be transported without trouble and labour. There lives, I believe, only one gentleman, whose unlimited acquaintance with this subject might enable him to do it justice; I mean my friend, Mr. Francis Douce, of the British Museum, whose usual kindness will, I hope, pardon my mentioning his name, while on a subject so closely connected with his extensive and curious researches.

sneezed a third time; he blessed him as before The fairies were enraged; they tumbled him from a precipice; but he found himself unhurt, and was restored to the society of mortals.”—DR. GRAHAME's Sketches, second edit. p. 255–7, See Note, “Fairy Superstitions,” Rob Roy, N. Edit.)



See, here, all vantageless I stand,
Arm'd, like thyself, with single brand—P. 215.

The duellists of former times did not always stand upon those punctilios respecting equality of arms, which are now judged essential to fair combat. It is true, that in formal combats in the lists, the parties were, by the judges of the field, put as nearly as possible in the same circumstances. But in private duel it was often otherwise. In that desperate combat which was fought between Quelus, a minion of Henry III. of France, and Antraguet, with two seconds on each side, from which only two persons escaped alive, Quelus complained that his antagonist had over him the advantage of a poinard which he used in parrying, while his left hand, which he was forced to employ for the same purpose, was cruelly mangled. When he charged Antraguet with this odds, “Thou hast done wrong,” answered he, “to forget thy dagger at home. We are here to fight, and not to settle punctilios of arms.” In a similar duel, however, a younger brother of the house of Aubanye, in Angoulesme, behaved more generously on the like occasion, and at once threw away his dagger when his enemy challenged it as an undue advantage. But at this time hardly any thing can be conceived more horridly brutal and savage than the mode in which private quarrels were conducted in France. Those who were most jealous of the point of honour, and acquired the title of Ruffinés, did not scruple to take every advan

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