"Our separation," says our author, "at Ruthven was truly af fecting. We bade one another an eternal adieu. No one could tell whether the scaffold would not be his fate. The Highlanders gave vent to their grief in wild howlings and lamentations. The tears flowed down their cheeks when they thought that their country was now at the discretion of the Duke of Cumberland, and on the point of being plundered, whilst they and their children would be reduced to slavery, and plunged without resource into a state of remediless distress."

After the battle of Culloden, the author enters on the account of his own personal adventures and hair-breadth escapes, which constitutes the most interesting portion of his work. After the separation at Ruthven, he returned to Killithuntly, the mansion of Mr. Gordon, where he had taken up his residence, and with whose family he had been previously in habits of intimacy. The lady offered him an asylum among the mountains, which were very solitary and difficult of access; telling him that she would construct a hut for him in the most remote situation, and would lay in ample store of food both for his mind and body. The project pleased him very much; but, before deciding, he was anxious to consult his friend Grant of Rothiemurchus, who had always professed an extreme partiality for him. Leaving, therefore, the amiable society of Mr. and Mrs. Gordon, he went to Rothiemurchus, which is situated at the other extremnity of this beautiful valley. The father, however, was not at home, having gone to pay his visit to the Duke of Cumberland, more from fear than from affection. Young Rothiemurchus advised him to surrender and trust to the mercy of the Duke of Cumberland, adding that he had just conducted Lord Balmerino, who had followed his advice, to Inverness. This advice, however, our author did by no means relish; and having met at Rothiemurchus Gordon of Park, with his two brothers, he, on their invitation, accompanied them to their estates, waiting to meet with his brother-in-law, Lord Rollo, who, he hoped, might assist him in effecting his escape. They reached the county of Banff on the fourth day after they had left Rothiemurchus, and the people being here the declared enemies of the house of Stuart, they were forced to separate. They had lodged in the house of a presbyterian minister of the name of Stuart, a secret friend of the Pretender; and on rising in the morning, our Chevalier exchanged his laced Highland dress with Mr. Stuart's servant for an old labourer's dress, quite ragged, and smelling so strongly of dung, as to be absolutely infectious at a distance. With this disguise, he made his way from the castle of Mr. Gordon of Park, when he passed the next night to Banff, and went straight to the house of Mr. Duff, provost of the town, a secret partizan of the Prince," whose family," he observes, "was one of the most agreeable and respectable I ever knew in the whole course of my life, and whose charming society I quitted with the greatest possible regret, to rejoin our army at Inverness." Mr. Duff did not at first recognize him through his beggar's disguise; but having fixed his eyes on him, his

surprise was at length succeeded by a flood of tears. Here he passed a restless night, and next morning suffered a dreadful alarm on being told by the maid that the court-yard was filled with soldiers come to seize him. He immediately prepared for defence, with his eyes steadily fixed on the door, ready to spring on the first soldier who should enter; but what was his surprise and delight when he saw the amiable Miss Duff, the younger, burst in out of breath to tell him that it was a false alarm, and that the soldiers were gone. Miss Duff, he observes, was very beautiful, and only eighteen. "I seized her," he adds, "in my arms, pressed her to my bosom, and gave her with the best will in the world, a thousand tender kisses." Here he met with his brother-in-law Lord Rollo, who would in no wise interfere to assist his escape. He took leave, therefore, of Banff, and of the amiable and hospitable family of Mr. Duff, and returned to the castle of Mrs. Gordon, where he finally resolved to make his way to the south, or to perish in the attempt, which was indeed rash and hazardous in the extreme, the low country being every where infested with soldiers, who were commissioned to use the severest measures for the apprehension of rebels; and the two arms of the sea, the Tay and the Forth, being strictly guarded at all the different ferries. In prosecution of his design, he left the castle of Mr. Gordon, with a recommendation from a Mr. Menzies, whom he had met there, to Mr. Gordon of Kildrummy, one of his near relations. He met with the kindest reception, and was furnished with a guide to the village of Kildrummy, and afterwards to Cortachie, a village belonging to Lord Ogilvie; the inhabitants of which were favourably disposed to the Prince. Here he ran no risk from the people, and the landlady of the public house informed him, that there were two of the Prince's adherents concealed in Glen Prossen, a large ravine between two mountains, at the house of a peasant named Samuel. Our adventurer having found out these two companions in misfortune, he was induced, from the representation of the dangers which they gave of his journey southwards, to remain with them about 17 days, living on oatmeal and water, prepared according to the most approved modes of Scots cookery.

Samuel had a married daughter, who acted as a centinel at the mouth of the glen, and gave exact information during the day of the motions of the troops who were scouring the country. But when the troops arrived in the evening, the three adventurers were forced to fly to the mountains, where they frequently passed whole nights in the open air, exposed to the most dreadful tempests of wind and rain. Being at length informed that detachments of soldiers were hovering round their quarters, and that they had received information of their retreat, it was unanimously agreed to return to the Highlands. Our Chevalier, however, under the influence of a dream, which made a great impression on his imagination, determined to proceed to Edinburgh, notwithstanding the most earnest remonstrances of his host, who however consented to be his guide. Having an excellent horse, he mounted with Samuel

behind him, and left Cortachie at night. In his way to Broughty ferry, on the Tay, he had to pass through the town of Forfar, which he reprobates with every epithet of detestation, as a nest of presbyterian fanaticism; no sooner, he observes, had he entered this abominable place, than a dog began to bark at his heels, which so alarmed poor Samuel, who was a coward at bottom, that he struggled to escape, and if he had not been forcibly held on the horse, would have left our adventurer in the most perplexing of all situations. Having galloped through Forfar, and escaped this danger, he arrived without farther danger at the Tay, and being informed by Samuel, that Graham of Duntroon was favourable to the Prince's cause, he sent a message to him, requesting him to favour him with the means of escape. The conduct of Mr. Graham was generous in the extreme. He desired Samuel to conduct him to his enclosures, where there was very high broom favourable for his concealment; he soon afterwards came to visit him, expressing the warmest sympathy for his unhappy situation. He sent him at the same time for breakfast, new laid eggs, butter, cheese, a bottle of white wine, and another of beer, which he devoured with the greater voracity, as he had tasted nothing with Samuel but meal and water for seventeen days before. Mr. Graham sent him some beef for dinner, which he observes, after the rigorous lent at Samuel's, he devoured with exquisite relish, though he had only had his breakfast three hours before. After dinner, Mr. Graham brought him a bottle of old claret, which they drank together, and at four o'clock in the afternoon he left him, embracing him and wishing him success. It was contrived that he should cross the water at 5 o'clock -that he should follow a gardener carrying a sack, who was to be afterwards replaced by an old woman to conduct him to the ferry. Here however he was exposed to new dangers. It happened, that just while he was waiting on the heights, a party of dragoons passed, who searched the village with the utmost rigour, and threatened the boatmen if they transported any suspicious persons across; and their threats had such an effect, that the boatmen absolutely refused to stir in this hazardous business. Our adventurer was however resolute, and Mrs. Burn, the keeper of the public house, having two handsome daughters, he made use of all his address to gain them over to his cause. He at length succeeded. But the boatmen were not to be moved. The two young girls, in this emergency, proposed to row him over, themselves, which was happily accomplished, and on the other side of the water he bade them an eternal adieu, under the deepest impressions of gratitude to them for having saved his life.

He was now, however, more at a loss than ever, having formed no plan for his future movements. At last he bethought himself of seeking refuge with a Mrs. Spence, a relation, who had a house in St. Andrew's, and an estate in the neighbourhood. To St. Andrew's then, he resolved to proceed, after reprobating it as the most fanatical town of Scotland.

'It was full," he adds," of the accursed race of Calvinist hypocrites, who cover over their crimes with the veil of religion, fraudu lent and dishonest in their dealings; who carry their holy dissimulation so far as to take off their bonnets to say grace, when they take even a pinch of snuff; who have the name of God constantly in their mouths, and hell in their hearts. No town ever so much deserved the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah.”

He travelled all night, and when day began to appear, he sat down by the side of a stream to ease his feet, which were bruised, cut, and bleeding, from his coarse peasant's shoes and stockings. He remained for about two hours with his feet in the stream,wrapt in the most melancholy forebodings, and in a condition to excite compassion in the hardest heart. When he again put on his stockings and shoes, hardened with blood, he found that he could scarcely stand upright, and when he attempted to stir, he felt a pain that cut him to the heart. In this plight he walked to St. Andrew's, and arrived at the house of Mrs. Spence.

"My cousin did not at first recollect me under my disguise; but having examined me for a moment, she exclaimed, shedding a flood of tears, "Ah! my dear child, you are inevitably lost. How could you think of coming to St. Andrew's, and particularly to a house so much suspected as mine? (she was a Roman Catholic.) The mob yesterday," added she, "arrested the son of my neighbour, Mr. Ross, who was disguised like you as a countryman, before he had been a quarter of an hour in his father's house, and he is now actually loaded with irons in the prison of Dundee."

It was agreed in this dilemma that Mrs. Spence should recommend Mr. Johnstone as a relation to one of her farmers, with a request that he would lend him a horse to carry him to Wemyss, on the coast of the Firth of Forth, where he might cross to Leith. But this farmer declined to profane the Lord's day by lending his horse to one who meant to travel on the Sabbath, and he obstinately persisted in this resolution, which draws from our author a most violent vituperation against that "holy rabble," who, though they are so rigid in those minute observances, never scruple to deceive and cheat their neighbours on the Lord's or any other day.

Our unhappy fugitive was now in a most deplorable situation Scarcely able to stir, from the wounds in his feet, which were bathed in blood-cast out from every refuge and exhausted with fatigue, he knew not where to steer his course. At last, he be thought himself of one George Lillie, married to a chamber maid of his mother. He was a gardener to Mr. Beaton of Balfour, whose mansion was about half a league from the village of Wemyss. This couple were under great obligations to his father's family; and he was sure if he could reach their house that he would be in safety. Having made a hasty meal of the bread and cheese with which Mr. Graham had filled his pockets at Dundee, and which he had never before thought of in the agitation of his mind-having also bathed his feet, and soaked his shoes and stockings in the water,

he walked six miles without stopping. Here he rested himself and renewed the former operations on his feet; he then finished the other four miles about nine o'clock in the evening. His strength was now totally exhausted, and he could not have gone another step to have saved himself from the scaffold. The account of his reception may be given in his own words.

"Having knocked, Lillie opened the door, but did not recognize me in my disguise of a beggar. He said to me several times with impatience and evident alarm, who are you?--What is your business, or whom do you want?--I made no reply, but advanced inside of the door, lest he should shut it in my face. This added to his alarm, and it was evident that he took me for some robber or house-breaker, for he trembled from head to foot. I asked him if there were any strangers in the house? His wife, who was sewing near the fire, knew my voice, and perceiving my dress, she called out immediately to her husband, Good God! I know him; quickshut the door. Lillie obeyed without farther examining me, and following me to the light, also recognized me. I could scarce suppress a laugh, notwithstanding my pain, at the look of amazement of Lillie, when he recognized me under my disguise; confounded, lost in astonishment, and petrified, he clasped his hands with uplifted eyes, exclaimed, "O this does not surprise me; my wife and I were talking about you last night, and I said that I would bet any thing in the world that you were with that accursed race." I answered, that he was in the right to conclude I was, from the prineiples of attachment to the house of Stuart in which I had been educated. "But at present, my good George," continued I," you must aid me in escaping the gallows."

Here he was refreshed and taken care off, and having his feet washed and dressed, he was put to bed, when he slept nearly 24 hours, and awakened at 9 o'clock next eve ing much refreshed. The question now was, how to contrive the means of escape, and it was agreed, as Lillie's mother-in-law kept a public house in the village of Wemyss, much frequented by fishermen, that they should go there for the purpose of endeavouring to procure a passage across. Lillie accordingly applied to one Salmon, a fisherman, and set forth our adventurer's unhappy case; but he received a flat refusal, the fisherman protesting that he would do him no harm-but that he would give him no assistance; and in this he persisted, notwithstanding that he was offered six guineas for the passage. But the crossing of the firth was too essential to the safety of the fugitive to be easily abandoned. As Salmon kept an ale-house, they all accordingly went in together to take a glass of beer, and in this meeting the feelings of Salmon were so much softened to our adventurer, that he at last consented, and it was agreed that he should appear on the beach when the fishing boats came on shore, and ask for a passage. All this was punctually complied with, and the passage was agreed on for half a crown, when Salmon's wife, suspecting something, made her appearance, and vehemently broke