St Cuthbert, to Scotland, where they paraded him for several years. From Whithern, in Galloway, they sailed for Ireland, but were driven back by tempests. After a halt at Norham, he went to Melrose, where he remained for a short time, and then caused himself to be launched upon the Tweed in a stone coffin, which landed him at Tilmouth, in Northumberland. This boat is finely shaped, ten feet long, three feet and a half in diameter, and only four inches thick; so that with very little assistance, it might certainly have swam. From Tilmouth, Cuthbert wandered into Yorkshire; and made a long stay at Chester-le-street, to which the bishop's see was transferred. At length, the Danes continuing to infest the country, the monks removed to Rippon for a season; and it was in returning from thence to Chester-le-street, that, passing through a forest called Dunholme, the saint and his carriage became immoveable at a place called Wardlaw, or Wardilaw. Here the saint chose his place of residence; and all who have seen Durham must admit, that, if difficult in his choice, he evinced taste in at length fixing it.

57, xv.-Even Scotland's dauntless king, and heir,

Before his standard fled, &c.

Every one has heard, that when David I., with his son Henry, invaded Northumberland in 1138, the English host marched against them under the holy banner of St Cuthbert; to the efficacy of which was imputed the great victory obtained in the battle of Northallerton, or Cuton-moor.

58, xv.-Edged Alfred's falchion on the Dane,
And turn'd the Conqueror back again.

Cuthbert, we have seen, had no great reason to spare the Danes, when opportunity offered. Accordingly, I find, in Simeon of Durham, that the Saint appeared in a vision to Alfred, when lurking in the marshes of Glastonbury, and promised him assistance and victory over his heathen enemies; a consolation, which, as was reasonable, Alfred, after the victory of Ashendown, rewarded by a royal offering at the shrine of the Saint. As to William the Conqueror, the terror spread before his army, when he marched to punish the revolt of the Northumbrians in 1096, had forced the monks to fly once more to Holy Island with the body of the Saint. It was, however, replaced before William left the north.

58, xvi.-Saint Cuthbert sits, and toils to frame
The sea-born beads that bear his name.

Although we do not learn that Cuthbert was, during his life, such an artificer as Dunstan, his brother in sanctity, yet, since his death, he has acquired the reputation of forging those Entrochi which are found among the rocks of Holy Island, and pass there by the name of St Cuthbert's beads. 58, xvii.-Old Colwulf.

Ceolwulf, or Colwulf, King of Northumberland, flourished in the Eighth century. He was a man of some learning; for the venerable Bede dedicates to him his "Ecclesiastical History.' He abdicated the throne about 738, and retired to Holy Island, where he died in the odour of sanctity.

60, xix.-Tynemouth's haughty prioress.

That there was an ancient priory at Tynemouth is certain, for its ruins are situated on a high rocky point. It was anciently a nunnery; for Virca, abbess of Tynemouth, presented St Cuthbert (yet alive) with a rare winding-sheet, in emulation of a holy lady called Tuda, who had sent him a coffin: But, as in the case of Whitby, and Holy Island, the introduction of nuns at Tynemouth in the reign of Henry VIII. is an anachronism. The nunnery of Holy Island is fictitious.

64, xxv.-On those the wall was to enclose
Alive within the tomb.

It is well known, that the religious, who broke their vows of chastity, were subjected to the same penalty as the Roman vestals in a similar case. A small niche, sufficient to enclose their bodies, was made in the massive wall of the convent; a slender pittance of food and water was deposited in it, and the awful words, VADE IN PACE, were the signal for immuring the criminal. It is not likely that, in latter times, this punishment was often resorted to; but, among the ruins of the Abbey of Coldingham were, some years ago, discovered the remains of a female skeleton, which, from the shape of the niche, and position of the figure, seemed to be that of an immured nun.

INTRODUCTION TO CANTO III.

ΤΟ

WILLIAM ERSKINE, Esq.

Ashestiel, Ettrick Forest.

L

IKE April morning clouds, that pass,
With varying shadow, o'er the grass,
And imitate, on field and furrow,

Life's chequer'd scene of joy and sorrow;
Like streamlet of the mountain north,
Now in a torrent racing forth,
Now winding slow its silver train,
And almost slumbering on the plain;
Like breezes of the Autumn day,
Whose voice inconstant dies away,
And ever swells again as fast,
When the ear deems its murmur past;
Thus various, my romantic theme
Flits, winds, or sinks, a morning dream.
Yet pleased, our eye pursues the trace
Of Light and Shade's inconstant race;
Pleased, views the rivulet afar,
Weaving its maze irregular;

And pleased, we listen as the breeze

Heaves its wild sigh through Autumn trees: Then, wild as cloud, or stream, or gale, Flow on, flow unconfined, my Tale!

Need I to thee, dear Erskine, tell,
I love the license all too well,

In sounds now lowly, and now strong,
To raise the desultory song?-

Oft, when 'mid such capricious chime,
Some transient fit of lofty rhyme
To thy kind judgment seem'd excuse
For many an error of the muse,
Oft hast thou said, "If still mis-spent,
Thine hours to poetry are lent,

Go, and to tame thy wandering course,
Quaff from the fountain at the source;
Approach those masters, o'er whose tomb
Immortal laurels ever bloom:

Instructive of the feebler bard,

Still from the grave their voice is heard: From them, and from the paths they show'd, Choose honour'd guide and practised road: Nor ramble on through brake and maze, With harpers rude, of barbarous days.

"Or deem'st thou not our later time Yields topic meet for classic rhyme ? Hast thou no elegiac verse

For Brunswick's venerable hearse?
What! not a line, a tear, a sigh,
When valour bleeds for liberty?—
Oh, hero of that glorious time,
When, with unrivalled light sublime,—
Though martial Austria, and though all
The might of Russia, and the Gaul,
Though banded Europe stood her foes-
The star of Brandenburgh arose !

Thou couldst not live to see her beam
For ever quenched in Jena's stream.
Lamented Chief!-it was not given
To thee to change the doom of Heaven,
And crush that dragon in its birth,
Predestined scourge of guilty earth.
Lamented Chief!-not thine the power
To save in that presumptuous hour,
When Prussia hurried to the field,

And snatched the spear, but left the shield!
Valour and skill 'twas thine to try,
And, tried in vain, 'twas thine to die.
Ill had it seem'd thy silvery hair
The last, the bitterest pang to share,
For princedoms reft, and scutcheons riven,
And birthrights to usurpers given;
Thy lands, thy children's wrongs to feel,
And witness woes thou couldst not heal!
On thee relenting Heaven bestows
For honour'd life an honour'd close;

And when revolves, in time's sure change,
The hour of Germany's revenge,
When, breathing fury for her sake,
Some new Arminius shall awake,

Her champion, ere he strike, shall come
To whet his sword on Brunswick's tomb.

"Or, of the Red-Cross hero teach,
Dauntless in dungeon as on breach :
Alike to him the sea, the shore,
The brand, the bridle, or the oar:
Alike to him the war that calls
Its votaries to the shatter'd walls,