A native of Edinburgh, who in 1825 was seventy-two years of age, informed me that, when he was a boy, the following prophetic rhyme, ascribed to True Thomas, was in vogue:

York was, London is, and Edinburgh will be,
The biggest o' the three.

In my informant's early days, Edinburgh consisted only of what is now called the Old Town; and the New Town, though projected, was not then expected ever to reach the extent and splendour which it has since attained. Consequently it can scarcely be said that the prophecy has been put into circulation after its fulfilment had become a matter of hope or imaginable possibility.

It is to be remarked, however, that there is a similar rhyme popular in England. Stukely, in his Itinerarium Curiosum, after expatiating upon the original size and population of Lincoln, quotes as an old adage—

Lincoln was, London is, and York shall be,

The fairest city of the three.

One of the rhymes most popular at Earlstoun referred to an old thorn-tree which stood near the village. It ran thus

This Thorn-tree, as lang as it stands,
Earlstoun shall possess a' her lands.

Now, the lands originally belonging to the community of Earlstoun have been, in the course of time, alienated piecemeal, till there is scarcely an acre left. The tree fell during the night, in a great storm which took place in spring 1821; and what gave additional weight to the prophecy was, that the principal shopkeepers in the town happened to be then, on account of a series of unfortunate circumstances, in a state of bankruptcy.

The Rhymer is supposed to have attested the infallibility of his predictions by a couplet to the following effect:

When the saut gaes abune the meal,
Believe nae mair o' Tammie's tale.

This seems to mean, in plain English, that it is just as impossible for the price of the small quantity of salt used in the preparation of porridge to exceed the value of the larger

quantity of meal required for the same purpose, as for his prophecies to become untrue.

The following legend, which appeared in the notes to the uniform edition of the Waverley Novels, may, it is hoped, allowably be introduced at this place :

'Now, it chanced many years since, that there lived on the Borders a jolly, rattling horse-cowper, who was remarkable for a reckless and fearless temper, which made him much admired, and a little dreaded, amongst his neighbours. One moonlight night, as he rode over Bowden Moor, on the west side of the Eildon Hills, the scene of Thomas the Rhymer's prophecies, and often mentioned in his story, having a brace of horses along with him which he had not been able to dispose of, he met a man of venerable appearance and singularly-antique dress, who, to his great surprise, asked the price of his horses, and began to chaffer with him on the subject. To Canobie Dick, for so shall we call our Border dealer, a chap was a chap, and he would have sold a horse to the devil himself, without minding his cloven hoof, and would have probably cheated Old Nick into the bargain. The stranger paid the price they agreed on, and all that puzzled Dick in the transaction was, that the gold which he received was in unicorns, bonnet-pieces, and other ancient coins, which would have been invaluable to collectors, but were rather troublesome in modern currency. It was gold, however, and therefore Dick contrived to get better value for the coin than he perhaps gave to his customer. By the command of so good a merchant, he brought horses to the same spot more than once; the purchaser only stipulating that he should always come by night, and alone. I do not know whether it was from mere curiosity, or whether some hope of gain mixed with it; but after Dick had sold several horses in this way, he began to complain that dry bargains were unlucky, and to hint, that since his chap must live in the neighbourhood, he ought, in the courtesy of dealing, to treat him to half a mutchkin.

"You may see my dwelling if you will," said the stranger; "but if you lose courage at what you see there, you will rue it all your

life."

'Dick, however, laughed the warning to scorn; and having alighted to secure his horse, he followed the stranger

up a narrow footpath, which led them up the hills to the singular eminence stuck betwixt the most southern and the centre peaks, and called, from its resemblance to such an animal in its form, the Lucken Hare. At the foot of this eminence, which is almost as famous for witch-meetings as the neighbouring windmill of Kippilaw, Dick was somewhat startled to observe that his conductor entered the hill-side by a passage or cavern, of which he himself, though well acquainted with the spot, had never seen or heard.

"You may still return," said his guide, looking ominously back upon him; but Dick scorned to show the white feather, and on they went. They entered a very long range of stables; in every stall stood a coal-black horse; by every horse lay a knight in coal-black armour, with a drawn sword in his hand; but all were as silent, hoof and limb, as if they had been cut out of marble. A great number of torches lent a gloomy lustre to the hall, which, like those of the Caliph Vathek, was of large dimensions. At the upper end, however, they at length arrived, where a sword and horn lay on an antique table.

"He that shall sound that horn and draw that sword," said the stranger, who now intimated that he was the famous Thomas of Ercildoun," shall, if his heart fail him not, be king over all broad Britain. So speaks the tongue that cannot lie. But all depends on courage, and much on your taking the sword or the horn first."

'Dick was much disposed to take the sword, but his bold spirit was quailed by the supernatural terrors of the hall, and he thought to unsheath the sword first might be construed into defiance, and give offence to the powers of the mountain. He took the bugle with a trembling hand, and blew a feeble note, but loud enough to produce a terrible answer. Thunder rolled in stunning peals through the immense hall; horses and men started to life; the steeds snorted, stamped, grinded their bits, and tossed on high their heads; the warriors sprung to their feet, clashed their armour, and brandished their swords. Dick's terror was extreme at seeing the whole army, which had been so lately silent as the grave, in uproar, and about to rush on him. He dropped the horn, and made a feeble attempt to seize the enchanted sword; but at the same moment a voice pronounced aloud the mysterious words

"Wo to the coward, that ever he was born,

Who did not draw the sword before he blew the horn!"

'At the same time a whirlwind of irresistible fury howled through the long hall, bore the unfortunate horse-jockey clear out of the mouth of the cavern, and precipitated him over a steep bank of loose stones, where the shepherds found him the next morning, with just breath sufficient to tell his fearful tale, after concluding which, he expired.

'This legend, with several variations, is found in many parts of Scotland and England; the scene is sometimes laid in some favourite glen of the Highlands, sometimes in the deep coal-mines of Northumberland and Cumberland, which run so far beneath the ocean. It is also to be found in Reginald Scott's book on Witchcraft, which was written in the sixteenth century. It would be in vain to ask what was the original of the tradition. The choice between the horn and sword may, perhaps, include as a moral, that it is foolhardy to awaken danger before we have arms in our hands to resist it.'

ROXBURGHSHIRE.
LILLIARD'S EDGE.

AT Lilliard's Edge, a mile and a half north from the village of Ancrum, was fought, in 1545, the battle of Ancrum Moor, between the Scots, under the Earl of Angus, and an English invading party, led by Sir Ralph Evers and Sir Bryan Latoun. The contest arose out of the rough diplomacy connected with the proposed marriage of the son of Henry VIII. to the young Queen of Scots. It had, however, the form of a defence of soil and property on the part of the Scots, as the two English knights were endeavouring to realise a grant of the Merse and Teviotdale, which their master had conferred upon them. Hence the expression of Angus-'If they come to take seisin in my lands, I shall bear them witness to it, and perhaps write them an investiture in sharp pens and red ink.'

In this fight there was, according to tradition, a female warrior on the Scotch side named Lilliard, who, when covered with wounds, and cruelly shortened by the swords

of her enemies, continued to fight in the manner of Squire Widdrington. Buried on the field of victory, she was commemorated to future ages by her name being given to the spot, and a stone being erected, on which was the following inscription:

Fair Maiden Lilliard lies under this stane,

Little was her stature, but great was her fame;
Upon the English loons she laid mony thumps,
And when her legs were cuttit off, she fought upon
her stumps.

BILHOPE BRAES, &c.

Bilhope braes for bucks and raes,
Carit-rigs for swine,

And Tarras for a guid bull-trout,

If it be ta'en in time.

This is an old rhyme, commemorating the places in Liddisdale and Eskdale remarkable for game. The bull-trout of the Tarras has alone survived to modern times.

ANNAN, TWEED, AND CLYDE.

Annan, Tweed, and Clyde,

Rise a' out o' ae hill-side;

Tweed ran, Annan wan,

Clyde fell, and brak its neck owre Corra Linn.

These three chief rivers of the south of Scotland, though flowing into different seas, have their sources in one mass of mountain ground, occupying the upper parts of the counties of Peebles, Lanark, and Dumfries. The fact has always been a subject of popular remark in Scotland; yet what is it to that which has been observed regarding two of the principal rivers of America-the Missouri and Mackenzie-respectively disemboguing into the Gulf of Georgia and the Polar Sea, after a course of thousands of miles, there being branches of these great streams which approach within three hundred yards of each other in the Rocky Mountains!

In the rhyme, the Annan, having the shortest course, is said to win the race; while popular fancy represents the Clyde as breaking its neck at the Corra fall near Lanark.