you to the hangman; and in the meanwhile ye'ell get every thing to make you comfortable."

The Prior of St. Andrew's, who never much relished the gritty humour of the Earl, interposed, and said, " that although no question could be raised as to the guilt of the prisoner, it was yet necessary, for the yindication of the Queen's honour, that he should be publicly brought to trial."

"My word, Jamie Stuart," said Morton, "I'll no say that thou ʼs like the tod's whelp ‘a day aulder a day waur;' but as the moon wanes thy wit waxes, and though we may be fashed wi' a trial, yet I agree that, for fashion's cause, we canna well put the varlet out of pain without the benefit of an advocate as well as an executioner; and therefore I move that he be sent to trial according to law."

The prisoner was then removed again to the strong-room, and the Council rising, passed into the gallery, where there was a great bustle in consequence of the Provost and the Town Council coming to address her Majesty on her escape from what they denominated" a rampant

traitor.'

"My Lord Provost," said the Earl of Morton jocularly, "ye should hae been sure, before ye came wi' your comforting condolence, that it will be acceptable; for what if it were a disappointment rather than an escape?"

'Both the Prior of St. Andrew's and the Count were vexed to hear the Earl indulging his characteristic disregard of decorum, and begged him not to treat it so lightly.

""For," said the Prior, "it is a serious business, whatever may have been the incident; and the life of a young man, hitherto unblamable, will probably be forfeited." —Vol. ii. p. 259-62.

We will continue this strain, by quoting a conversation of Morton's with David Rizzio on the same subject, and on the choice of a proper man for the Queen's husband. We extremely admire his prescription for a royal consort. It is generally acted upon in our times, but not so broadly stated. Morton says," he must be a cannie princie, in straightened circumstances, that will be thankful for his promotion, and biddable to the barons and 'states of the realm!"

""Weel Dauvit!" said the Earl of Morton to Rizzio, after some general prelude touching the matter, "what think ye will be the upshot of this straemash? The Frenchman, puir chield! I doot, is past redemption; for I hae been discoursing with that bardy scoot, the Leddy Mall Livingstone; and if she would hae gi'en me the minimumest inkling that the Queen's Majesty had been either by hook or crook privy to the fallow's derning himself aneath the bed, I would hae stood up for him in the face and teeth o' the boldest of the Council-board; for it's awfu' to think o' putting a spirity lad's head in a tow for falling in love wi' a bonny young wanton widow."

"That's said like yourself, my Lord," replied Rizzio. of all the Council has a right conception of the case."

"Not one

"Foggies!" exclaimed Morton, "Where could they get it? There's no' ane amang them, Dauvit, that has as meikle daft blood in his tail as a sybow, tho' they dinna want smeddum to make the e'en water, whether it be a case o' guilt or innocence. But I'm mair provoked at Prior Jamie than any other; for he's a douce young man, and it's weel kent that chields of that sort are Solomons amang the lasses. In sooth, Dauvit, it does not consort with my conceit of state wisdom to look overly curious aneath the Queen's bed or blankets. Puir forlorn young widow ! it's no' decent to make such a hobbleshow; for after a', she may have been really diverting hersel'."

"Your Lordship," replied Rizzio, "takes a plain and honest view of the matter. You see it with the spectacles of experience. Justice surely would be satisfied, were Chatelard sent out of the kingdom."

"That's sensible, Dauvit. Really thou 's a clever deevil-I'll ay say that o' thee. But the Queen hersel' is the worst of a'. It's an unco' thing to hear o' folk so fond o' blood: nae doubt it comes of Papistry; for when I was in that delusion, Gude forgie me! I had a kind of heartfelt satisfaction in seeing a head chappit aff, especially when the axe was blunt, and the job was hagglet: it gart me grind my teeth with a feeling like fainness.'

Your Lordship could not better show the mercifulness of your reformed nature than by your compassion for Chatelard. I grieve to think his case is so hopeless. Perhaps, however, when the trial is over, your interposition then may be more effectual."

"But what fashes me most about it," replied the Earl, " is the marvelling it may breed abroad. We'll just be laughed at for being o' sic a maiden morality."

"It may deter the princes"

"Pa, pa! Dauvit, gie thysel' nae concern about them. What cares a kiesor o' Almaigne, or an Italian hircos, about sic a stale commodity as chastity? It would ne'er hae been a mot in the Queen's marriage wi' the best o' them, had Chatelard been catched cuddling in her bosom. But, Dauvit, I redde ye tak' tent what ye do anent this matter o' the marriage; for we'll no allow our hiefer to mell wi' far aff cattle. Scotland's no to become a pendicle to another kingdom. So ye'll ne'er let wot to the Imperator, nor to Philip o' Spain, that the Queen's a wanter; but fin' out some canny princie, in straightened circumstances, that will be thankful for his promotion, and biddable to the barons and 'states o' the realm."

With this advice the Earl retired to attend her Majesty in the Council Chamber, where Rizzio soon after presented himself with the drafts of the letters he had been directed to prepare, and received not only the Queen's commendations for the elegance of the diction, but also the applause of more than one of the counsellors for being a fairer writer than his predecessor.

""It behoves us now," said the Earl of Morton, "to consider to what courts the letters should be sent for it's my notion, please your Majesty, that the dignity of this your ancient realm will be best maintained by waling your gudeman frae out the lesser princes of Christen

dom for it was a great fear among us a', that had your Majesty been graciously pleased to bear a bairn to the French king, Scotland might have become a commodity to France, and been dragged through nae better than dirt and defamation until her royalty was utterly destroyed."

In this patriotic sentiment the whole Council concurred; and the Queen assured them that she would leave the choice entirely to them, for she had no doubt they would see well to the weal of the state, and she added, with a smile to the Earl of Morton, that she trusted her personal happiness would not be forgotten.

""Your Majesty," said the Earl, "need gie yoursel' nae concern about that; for as it's no' a king we hae to look for, but only a solatium for your widowhood, our first duty will be to please you ; and, therefore, I trust my noble friends here will no be overly scrupulous anent the talents of the prince, but look to the parts of the man. Indeed, clever princes, which, thanks be praise! are no' common, hae seldom been a convenience in Scotland; and as we are content with your Majesty's great power and capacity for ruling a camstairie people, we'll make choice o' a weel faur't man o' a moderate capacity."

When this part of the deliberation was over, her Majesty retired, and the Council proceeded to issue the necessary orders for the trial of Chatelard, and they were carried into effect next day; for, as Lord Morton said,

"Since ye will put him to death, there's Christianity in putting him out o' pain wi' a' reasonable expedition."-Vol. ii. p. 303-8.

We suppose that it is perfectly useless in us to recommend Mr. Galt to write nothing else but Lawrie Todds; in other words the history of Scotch human nature, in various circumstances; for he will doubtless be decided in his movements by far more weighty counsels; nevertheless the world would be a gainer if his powers were exercised on the subjects he best understands.

ART. VI. An Account of the Great Floods of August 1829, in the Province of Moray and Adjoining Districts. By Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, Bart. of Fountain Hall, F. R. S. E. Edinburgh. Adam Black. 1830. 8vo. pp. 418.

IT may at first sight seem strange to some that the reliquiæ diluviane of a Lammas flood, or speat, should have been thought of sufficient importance to occupy a goodly-sized octavo of four hundred and eighteen pages, illustrated by a couple of maps, and embellished by no less than sixty-four etchings. But when the facts are known, all wonder on this score will cease. Occasional floods, in particular districts, more especially in those connected with, and in some measure dependent upon, a mountainous region, are matters of too common occurrence to attract much attention, or to require any other notice of their

outbreakings than can be conveyed in an ordinary newspaper paragraph. The case before us, however, is one of a very different description indeed, deriving a fearful importance, not less from the unprecedented magnitude of the calamitous visitation itself, than from the sweeping devastations it committed, and the physical changes of which it has been productive, throughout a tract of country equal in extent to nearly one-fourth of the whole kingdom of Scotland. The floods of the 3rd and 4th of August, 1829, to say nothing of the "appendix flood" of the 27th of the same month, extended simultaneously, and with almost equal violence, over a space of from five to six thousand square miles; including that part of the north-east of Scotland which would be cut off by a line drawn from Stonehaven, on the east, along the range of mountains forming the western boundary of Aberdeenshire, crossing part of Badenoch nearly at right angles, intersecting the spey at the point where it receives the Truim, sweeping round the western shoulder of the Monolia mountains to the embouchure of the river Foyers in Lochness, and thence running along the southern shore of the lake to Inverness. Within the space thus defined all the rivers were of a sudden flooded by raging torrents, which speedily broke out far beyond the limits of former inundations, while the destruction of roads, bridges, buildings, lands, crops, and plantations, along the courses of the streams, was proportionally rapid and extensive. Every precaution which had been previously taken to guard against the destructive ravages of floods proved unavailing; and hundreds who thought themselves far beyond the reach of danger, were surrounded, and their retreat cut off, while indulging an idea of fancied security. It seemed indeed as if the very foundations of the mountains had been destroyed, the fountains of the great deep broken open, and a second deluge let loose to destroy both man and his works. Vast masses of alluvial earth, rising into subordinate hilis, were undermined and swept away, with the houses, animals, and whatever else covered them, as if they had been wreaths of snow ;-roads to the extent of many miles were cut up, destroyed, and almost entirely obliterated; bridges, some of them, as that over the Dee at Ballater, built of granite, and founded on the living rock, were not merely overturned, but, in some instances, the whole mass of their masonry was carried to a considerable distance down the rivers ;-wherever the inundation reached, the crops were destroyed, the grain being either chilled at the roots by the water, carried off by the impetuosity of the currents, or buried under deposits of sand and gravel;-in haugh lands the soil was for the most part swept away, and

hundreds of the finest and richest fields, bearing the most luxuriant crops, were rendered for ever incapable of cultivation;whole plantations of trees were either levelled by the hurricane, or torn up by the roots and hurried along with incredible velocity by the currents, which nothing seemed capable of withstanding; -rivers, also, forced out of their old channels, instantaneously hollowed out new ones, and thus changed the whole character and land-marks of the district through which they flowed;human life was every where more or less endangered, and marvellous indeed are many of the providential escapes which our author has narrated; and to add to the misery and ruin of the poor people who were overtaken by this Ogygian deluge, the catastrophe was so sudden, and the outbreaking of the rivers so violent, that, abandoning all idea of saving their property, they were fain to escape with their lives to some elevated spot, there to await the assuaging of the waters, and the abatement of the tempest. Nor was it one of the least remarkable circumstances attending this awful dispensation, that, while the flood was ravaging the earth, the heavens seemed to be on fire, and all the elements of nature striving, as it were, to add to the horror and sublimity of the scene. In truth, the storm which burst over the tract of country above marked out had all the characters of a tropical hurricane; the wind blowing in sudden gusts, accompanied with whirlwinds, the atmosphere being illuminated with a lurid flickering light, produced by incessant flashes of lightning, which seemed to proceed from all points of the compass, and the thunder rolling, rattling, and crashing, like the unequal but continuous sound of artillery, during the heat of a great battle. The scene, in short, must have been one of intense sublimity, defying the utmost powers of language to describe it, but incapable of ever being erased from the memories of those who beheld it in all its terrific grandeur and power.

It was with the view of presenting to the public an authentic and detailed account of the memorable flood of August, 1829, that the very able and interesting work before us was undertaken, at the suggestion, we believe, of the learned gentleman (Mr. Henry Cockburn) to whom it is so affectionately dedicated; and certainly, no one could have been thought of, better qualified in all respects, than Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, for the successful execution of such a task. Himself a resident proprietor in Morayshire, Sir Thomas had not only been an eyewitness of the devastation committed on his own beautiful estate of Relugas, but he had beheld the inundation of the Findhorn, both above and below this point, when at the very highest, and had examined with the utmost care all the havoc