blished laws of the land, to which every subject is obliged to be obedient."

After repeated debates between the lawyers of Scotland, a day was at length appointed for the trial, which commenced on the 27th of February, 1770, before the High Court of Justiciary; and the jury having found Mr. Campbell guilty, he was sentenced to death.

The Lord Justice Clerk, before he pronounced the solemn sentence, addressed himself to the convict, advising him to make the most devout preparations for death, as all hopes of pardon would be precluded, from the nature of his offence. Through the whole course of the trial the prisoner's behaviour was remarkable for calmness and serenity; and when it was ended, he bowed to the court with the utmost composure, but said not a single word in extenuation of his crime.

On his return to the prison he was visited by several of his friends, among whom he behaved with apparently decent cheerfulness. After they had drunk several bottles of wine they left him, and he retired to his apartment, begging the favour of another visit from them on the following day; but in the morning, February 28, 1770, he was found dead, hanging to the end of a form, which he had set upright, having fastened a silk handkerchief round his neck.

Mr. Galt makes the sad fate of Lord Eglinton form a portion of the story contained in his "Annals of the Parish."*

*The author has derived great assistance in this as well as in many other episodes from his brother, Mr. Peter Burke's recently published work," Celebrated Trials connected with the Aristocracy, in the Relations of Private Life."

A CURIOUS TRADITION.

In a letter from Dr. Brett to Dr. Warren, president of Trinity-hall, Cambridge, dated September 1, 1723, it is said, that about Michaelmas, 1720, the doctor went to pay a visit to Heneage, Earl of Winchelsea, at Eastwellhouse, where that nobleman showed him an entry in the parish register, which the doctor transcribed immediately into his almanack; it stood thus:"1550, Richard Plantagenet was buryed the 22 daye of December." The register did not mention whether he was buried in the church or church-yard, nor could any memorial be retrieved of him, except the tradition preserved in the family, and some remains of his house. The story of this man, as it was related by the Earl of Winchelsea, is thus:-When Sir Thomas Moyle built Eastwell-house, he observed, that when his chief bricklayer left off work, he retired with a book. Sir Thomas had a great curiosity to know what book the man read, but was some time before he could discover it, he always putting the book At last, however, Sir up if any one came towards him. Thomas surprised him, and snatched the book from him, and, looking upon it, found it to be Latin; hereupon he examined him, and finding he pretty well understood that language, inquired how he came by his learning? On which the man told him, as he had been a good master to him, he would venture to trust him with a

secret he had never before revealed. He then informed him, that he was boarded with a Latin schoolmaster, without knowing who his parents were, till he was fifteen or sixteen years old; only a gentleman, who took occasion to acquaint him he was no relation to him, came once a quarter, and paid for his board, and took care to see that he wanted for nothing; and one day this gentleman took him, and carried him to a fine great house, where he passed through several stately rooms, in one of which he left him, bidding him to stay there; then a man finely dressed, with a star and garter, came to him, asked him some questions, talked kindly to him, and gave him some money; then the forementioned gentleman returned and conducted him back to his school. Some time after, the same gentleman came to him again with a horse, and proper accoutrements, and told him he must take a journey with him into the country. They then went into Leicestershire, and came to Bosworth Field, and he was carried to Richard the Third's tent. The king embraced him, and told him he was his son. "But, child," said he, "to-morrow I must fight for my crown, and assure yourself if I lose that I lose my life too, but I hope to preserve both. Do you stand in such a place (directing him to a particular place), where you may see the battle out of danger, and when I have gained the victory, come to me. I will then own you to be mine, and take care of you; but if I should be unfortunate as to lose the battle, then shift as well as you can, and take care to let nobody know I am your father, for no mercy will be shown to any one so nearly related to me." Then the king gave him a purse of gold, and dismissed him. He followed the king's directions, and when he saw the battle was lost, and the king killed, he hastened to London, sold his horse and fine clothes, and the better to conceal himself from all suspicion of being the son of a

king, and that he might have the means to live by his honest labour, he put himself apprentice to a bricklayer, but having a competent skill in the Latin tongue, he was unwilling to lose it, and having an inclination to reading, and no delight in the conversation of those he was obliged to work with, he generally spent all the time he had to spare in reading by himself. Sir Thomas said, "You are now old, and almost past your labour, and I will give you the running of my kitchen as long as you live." He answered, "Sir, you have a numerous family; I have been used to live retired; give me leave to build a house of one room for myself in such a field, and there, with your good leave, I will live and die; and if you have any work that I can do for you, I shall be ready to serve you. Sir Thomas granted his request; he built his house, and there continued to his death. This Richard Plantagenet must have lived to the age of 81, for the battle of Bosworth was fought the 22nd of August, 1485, at which time he was between fifteen and sixteen.

THE ANCESTRY OF SIR WALTER SCOTT.

THE death of Lieut.-Col. Sir Walter Scott, Bart. of Abbotsford, the last surviving son of the "Author of Waverley," supplied another addition to the roll of illustrious men, of whom no male descendant remains. Shakspeare, Milton, Pope, and Byron, are obvious instances, and it is not a little remarkable, that the same observation applies to many of the most brilliant ornaments in every department of intellectual greatness. How many pages of biography bear testimony to this striking fact! Without reverting to distant times, we may indicate, besides those to whom we have alluded, Marlborough, Napoleon, Nelson, Washington, Pitt, Fox, Burke, Locke, and Newton, and to this catalogue a whole host of others might easily be added.

How forcibly, too, does the melancholy event which has originated these passing words, tell of the instability of all earthly plans. The ruling passion of the illustrious Minstrel of the North was ancestral pride, and, subordinate to it, the ambition to found, in his person, a separate branch of the eminent house of which he was a scion. Hence may be traced his never-ceasing anxiety to augment his family's position, his acquisition and adornment of Abbotsford, and the thousand consequent embarrassments and cares, which at last wore his life