"A BRIGHT fire, a clean floor, and a pleasant company," is one of the proverbial wishes of domestic comfort among the wilds of Cumberland. The moorland residence of Randal Rode exhibited the first and second portion of the primitive wish, and it required no very deep discernment to see that around the ample hearth we had materials for completing the proverb. In each face was reflected that singular mixture of gravity and humour, peculiar, I apprehend, to the children of the north. Before a large fire-which it is reckoned JAMES HOGG. ominous ever to extinguish, lay half a dozen sheep dogs spreading out their white bosoms to the heat, and each placed opposite to the seat of its owner. The lord or rather portioner of Fremmet-ha himself lay apart on a large couch of oak antiquely carved, and ornamented like some of the massive furniture of the days of the olden church, with beads, and crosses, and pastoral crooks. This settee was bedded deep with sheepskins-each retaining a fleece of long white wool. At each end lay a shepherd's dog-past its prime like its master, and like him enjoying a kind youth. These she poured out in a sin- "When I was young, like thee, Maudeline 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 brow of a-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 rebellion 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 pasturage 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 warand the children, armed with hazel rods for spears, and swords of lath, carried on 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 tythe of mankind-should 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 recommenc ing our journey. "Young lady," said David Forester, "have you heard tidings of note from the north or 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 confu sion 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 again i' the land 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 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 Wilton-hall, along with young Walter Selby of Glamora, to refresh after a stag-hunt, on the banks of Derwent water. The mountain air was mild and balmy, and the lofty and rugged outline 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 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 hil-people-if a shepherd lacks a meal a lock 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 t 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 those "But do you all things human.'” personages, who, with a horse and pack, distribute the luxuries and 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. "You 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 am--applied a key to the lock-took out bition 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 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 combes, 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 queries and 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. The Cuckoo is a gentle bird, and gentle is his note, For amid the green woods growing, and the fresh flowers' blooming throng, The eagle slays the little lambs on Skiddaw high and hoar, The woodcock comes, and with the swan brings winter on his wing, goes forth. The Cuckoo is a princely bird, and we will wait awhile, 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 issue-for the merchant had a willing hand and a frame of iron. Silence ensued for a while-the pedlar, who for some time had stolen a glance 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 séemest to be, but of a kirtle and a steed, than if thou satest with a footstool of gold, and hadst nobles' daughters bearing up thy train. This cross and rosary," -and he held in his hand these devotional symbols, carved of dark wood, and slightly ornamented with gold, are of no common wood-a princess has sat under the shadow of its bough, and seen her kingdom won and lostand may the fair one, who will now wear it, warm it in her bosom, till she sees a kingdom, long lost, won as boldly, and as bravely, as ever the swords of the Selbys won their land." And throwing the rosary around my neck, as he concluded, away he went, and opened his pack anew, resuming again his demure look and the arrangement of his trinkets, trinkets, Walter Selby, who all this while, though then a hot and forward youth, had remained mute, addressed me in a whisper, "Fair Eleanor, mine own giddy cousin, this pedlar-this dispenser of rosaries made of Queen Mary's yewtree-he, whom the churls call Simon Packpin, is no seeker of profit from vulgar merchandize. I'll wager a kiss of thine own ruddy lips |