that questions of historical evidence have two sides. But the historian should never enter into those wrangling controversies, which are the soul of archæological inquiry. Let him decorate his statement with such rhetorical art as he possesses; but his art will best be displayed in so moulding his narrative as to bring out the leading events clear, emphatic, and prominent, so that even the careless reader does not lose their continuity. Learned materials, profusely scattered over the page as evidence how laboriously their discoverer has been digging, gratify that discoverer alone: the general reader hates them, because they require him to unravel the narrative for himself, instead of being guided easily through it.

Perhaps the desire to unite the two pursuits may have been fostered by a vulgar prejudice, which, classing histories among works of genius and philosophy, treats the function of the antiquarian or archæologist as that of the humble drudge who gathers materials for the artist. There has been a great deal of stupid, vapid, childish antiquarianism in the world, but there has also been a deal of shallow false history-writing. There is no necessity for entering on a precise estimate of the relative dignity of the two pursuits. Intellect knows no established table of official precedence. If the historian should think fit to treat the archæologist as a harmless drudge, who unconsciously collects the raw materials out of which men of genius and philosophy weave a beautiful and symmetrical fabric, he may easily take his revenge by representing himself as the man of real science and investigation, whose skilful labours are appropriated to the purposes of the humble compiler. Not to speak of the present age, archæology counts among the priests dedicated exclusively to her altar such names as Ducange, Montfaucon, Camden, Anderson, Champolion, and Young. Niebuhr's strength lay in this science -he was but a poor historian, though a mighty archeologist, and in this respect, indeed, he in some measure resembles Palgrave. It may be questioned if he would have earned

so great a fame had he been an Englishman or a Scotsman. It was his fortune to write for a people who love prolixity and profusion-who hate brevity and count clearness the equivalent of shallowness; and his fame was wafted over to us fully inflated with his native air.

It is certain that the muse of history is utterly helpless, if archæology has not prepared the way for her. And this is done, not by merely finding the maferials, but by scientifically adjusting them to each other. Unenlightened antiquarianism, which knows nothing but the cairn, or coffin, or urn before its eyes, and gloats over it because it is dirty and decayed, conjecturing that it belonged to the Druids, or some other ancient heathen people, affords no help to history. But antiquities-whether they be written records, or relics of early art and industry, in the hand of the scientific investigator who can give them their proper place in the archæology of all times and countries-give us the means of knowing the habits and way of life, the civilisation and the genius, of some race or people who are otherwise merely a vague name; or enable us to endow with vitality some leader or lawgiver who, in the chronicles of his time, has merely a line telling his name and his death. To the ignorant, a square tower is but a square tower; but to the adept it may show that the Roman eagles have nestled on the spot, or that the Normans penetrated thither; or may prove the mark of civil broil and turbulence existing in the surrounding district after the time when happier communities did not require to make castles of their houses-all as the shape of the doorway, or the character of certain mouldings, or the general method of the masonry may testify. The history of the spread of early Christianity is told in stone crosses, and little stone sheds that might pass for pigsties. The progress of Romanism superseding the earlier simplicity is told in the architecture borrowed from Rome, and leading away to the Gothic. In these, and in many other departments, we say it with thankfulness, that the antiquary, the archæologist, or whatever he may

be termed, has accomplished important and enduring triumphs.

But the very men who have performed these services in the most effective manner, are the most apt to go astray when they attempt to generalise their knowledge into history. Their ruling hobbies are useful in their own legitimate pursuit, by leading in the direction in which they can work most effectually; but in a general survey, the same propensities lead them not only to monstrous exaggerations of the relative importance of their favourite topics, but to a total misunderstanding of historical truth wherever these are concerned. We remember once an inquirer, who had devoted himself to Egyptian hieroglyphics, being requested to deliver a course of lectures on universal history. The first lecture brought down the history of mankind to the epoch of Rameses. Four lectures were then bestowed on Egyptian hieroglyphics, and in the one lecture which remained, the history of mankind was brought down to the nineteenth century. Archæologists are a very combative class as witness those mortal feuds of Pinkerton, Chalmers, and Ritson, about the Picts and Scots and Welsh, feuds in which the vocabulary of vituperation was 'exhausted for expressions of scorn, contempt, and hatred. It is out of these wrangles that the truth is discovered, as it is in the conflicts between learned coun

sel before a jury. But the conjoined habits of minuteness and one-sidedness are obviously unfavourable to the construction of a complete and impartial narrative. Sir Francis has a good stock of hobbies, and there is one of them which must not be passed over. He has in the course of his researches excavated much interesting and instructive matter relating to the early connection of England and Scotland. But merely to produce and elucidate this material does not content him, and he must needs revive from it the old silly fable of the feudal dependence of the Scottish kingdom. We propose to glance for a moment at his treatment of this subject, without a particle of indignation. There was a time, indeed, when no Scot could hear it referred to without feeling his blood

VOL. LXXXI.-NO. D.

boil, for it was done to taunt him with past oppression, and to notify to him the coming of more. Thus, in the critical period between the affair of Darien and the Union-after Scotland was cast forth as an alien nation, not entitled to participate in the English trade by one act, while by another the crown of Scotland was transferred to the House of Hanover without the Scottish Parliament being consulted-a period when Scotland, aggravated by these and other insults, had armed her borders, and virtually declared war against England, though both were under the same crown-a certain William Atwood published a book called "The Superiority and Direct Dominion of the Imperial Crown and Kingdom of England over the Crown and Kingdom of Scotland." The nation was in a fury; Atwood's book was, by the order of Parliament, burned by the hangman: he might have suffered as evil a fate himself if he had crossed the Border. Tranquillity was only restored by the prompt publication of an answer by Anderson, who proved that the documents cited by Atwood were forged. There can neither be wrath nor exultation connected with the matter now, and thus it is with that kindly but impatient tolerance with which one meets a worthy man on his inveterate hobby, that we encounter in the present volumes such a passage as the following, entirely out of its place :

"Edmund the Magnificent seemed destined to effect a complete renovation of the Anglo-Saxon commonwealth. Mercia wholly subdued, the happy contingency of Olave's death had not merely restored Northumbria, but given to the Basileus the whole of England; and at the same time, the Scottish kings having acknowledged the supremacy of the English crown, Edmund's imperial authority extended over the whole island.”—(II. 487-488.)

The reader will be at a loss, perhaps, to see the precise meaning of a passage so little akin to the old story about the King of Scots doing homage to the King of England. But we who have by long reiteration become familiar with our worthy friend's hobbies and eccentricities, have had reason to know well

3 B

the object of his cabalistic expressions. A great portion of the two quarto volumes published in 1832 bears down on this subject. In 1837 a heavy octavo appeared, containing "Documents and Records illustrating the History of Scotland, and the Transactions between the Crowns of Scotland and England." Nearly half the volume is introductory essay; it ranks as Vol. I., and is not by any means the only instance where Sir Francis has left in the world a Volume I. unfollowed by its promised successors. For these labours every true Scot is infinitely obliged to Sir Francis. His deep-digging brings us to the bottom of all difficulties. We see not only that the assertion of a feudal superiority was an insolent fraud, but we are shown how those who maintained it- and for that matter, those who impugned it too-must have been ignorant of a state of national relations which rendered it preposterous. It was a feudal fiction such as could only have existed where feudality had advanced to its most technical perfection, and yet was said to have existed at the time when there was no feudality to give life to it. The great stimulus to Palgrave's zeal has been a desire to find both parties in the wrong a leading propensity of his. The English were wrong in supposing that there was a proper feudal supremacy over Scotland, as of superior over vassal; the Scots were wrong in maintaining that their nation was not dependent on the crown of England. Sir Francis is brought to this, his own peculiar and previously unoccupied ground, by his theory about the propensity of the Roman empire to reconstruct itself by the establishment of a central government presiding over surrounding states. The theory is a useful oneit will hold a great deal, but it may be overstretched. He finds that the head of the Saxon Heptarchy-the Bretwalda-calls himself a Basileus, an imperial title-a title so exclusively imperial, that even Charlemagne, according to a passage already quoted, had not ventured to assume it. As he finds that this Basileus is a sort of president or chairman of the Saxon kings, some very small incidents suffice to convince him that the

king of Scots joined in acknowledg ing the presidency or elective supremacy. It seems to be of little consequence whether he is borne out in this or not. A federation of states, with the monarch of one selected as the president or head, is something very different from the feudal vassalage of one state to another. It would be as fair to argue that Beveland and Brabant are dependencies of North Holland because the government of the United Provinces is conducted in Amsterdam, as that England was a dependency upon Scotland, because the head chosen by all the confede rate sovereigns lived in London. It would be as justifiable, indeed, on the same grounds, to maintain that Scotland is still a dependency. If the theory of Sir Francis were fully admitted, London, after all, was the capital, not of Saxon England, but of Essex. This throws the whole question into "a hodgepot," as Eng lish lawyers call it, whence it would be difficult indeed to extract two nations, the one a dependency on the other.

But it is after the Norman Conquest and the growth of feudality that the question, under the new views thrown on it by Sir Francis, assumes its most remarkable aspect. We are now to suppose that Scotland, intimately united with the old Saxon community, becomes the representative of the Saxon principle after the Norman has subdued Saxon England. All the communities which formed that great Saxon commonwealth have not been subdued; Scotland, the most northerly and inaccessible, still remains the stronghold of Saxon principles, the refuge of the Saxon princes and persecuted people. If the descendants of Norman William have any claim on Scotland, it is not the right of conquest; it is the right to conquer a right never yet acknowledged; the right to conquer Scotland, because England has been conquered.

So far indeed does Sir Francis carry his theory of Scotland being the great rallying-point of Saxon antagonism to the Norman rule, that he charges King David with a design to head the Saxon party in England, and gain the English crown for himself, as the true

representative of the old Saxon kings. And Sir Francis ingeniously shows that the mysterious Battle of the Standard was the attempted execution of this enterprise. He says

"The English yearned for 'The Right Royal line." Conspiring against their royal masters, they sought to place themselves beneath the dominion of a sovereign who seemed to be the truest representative of the ancient dynasty. David, an Englishman by education and feeling, and married to the daughter of Waltheof, Earl of Northumberland, whom the English considered as a martyr to the

national cause, was invited by the fac tious,' in order that he might expel the Normans and ascend the throne. Immediately after this overture, we find that he invaded England, seeking to 'win the country;' and the ancient banner of Wessex, the golden dragon, cast down for so many ages, now waved amidst the host of the Scoto-Saxon king."-(English Commonwealth, i. 610.) Sir Francis has an English antiquary's veneration for records-these things which Prynne found so ravishing," that in their perusal he would forget whether he had dined or not; and with a failing common to his class, Sir Francis thinks they prove what they say, instead of remembering that they are often made to say what they do for the purpose of supplying evidence of a falsehood. He has brought to light a set of documents of this kind which only prove

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how earnestly and systematically the Norman monarchs and their subtle scribes had been organising an apparatus of evidence, to prove their legitimate right to rule over Scotland whenever their arms had prepared the way for the assertion. ments without collateral facts are but frail foundations for great historical theories. In the one charter supposed to be conclusive of the King of Scots' admission that he held Scotland of the King of England, the portion which bears this import has been proved to have been written on a portion of the parchment on which the passage it originally contained had been scraped

an erasure-on

out.

Nor does it at all affect the question that, as Sir Francis profusely proves, the candidates for the crown willingly admitted the supremacy of Edward. They were, though connected by blood with the race of Scottish kings, followers of his own, seeking a boon from him. They were brought up in the notions of feudality at the Norman court, and it is little reproach. to them to say that they could have scant sympathy with the national independence of Scotland, and little temptation to assert it. And now, in extreme good-humour with Sir Francis Palgrave, we bid adieu to him and his designs on our liberties and national dignity.

INDUSTRY-an admirable thing in itself-depends upon various conditions. Primarily it is stimulated and kept alive by positive want; and it is only through work, and hard work too, that the great majority of mankind can obtain their daily bread, beef, bacon, and beer, besides keeping a weather-tight roof above their heads, with a fire on the hearth, and a sufficiency of blankets on the bed. But beyond that, luxury, avarice, and ambition do greatly minister to industry, jogging us on the elbow whenever we are prone to slumber, and holding forth some inviting ob ject as the reward of augmented labour. And yet, despite these influences, there is a fund of laziness in human nature which it is very hard to overcome. There are moments when we envy the tranquil repose of the setter on the rug, or the cat in the basket, animals which have, in some respects, the advantage of us, inasmuch as it is by our labour that they are fed and maintained without the necessity of any kind of exertion. And we often think how delightful it must be to dwell in Otaheite, or some such island, where equivalents to hot breakfast-rolls may be gathered from the trees, where work is but wholesome exercise, and life a perpetual siesta. Doubtless, were we in Otaheite, we should so succumb; and, by dint of nutritious feeding and torpid repose, add some stones to our weight, if not cubits to our stature. But we are not in Otaheite, but in Scotland, where, especially in such a season as this, work, for its own sake, becomes an indispensable necessary of existence.

It is now very near the middle of May-a month which the older poets delighted to celebrate, and we presume they had reason for doing soand yet there is no burst of verdure on the trees, not as much as will give shelter to the wretched branchers of the rookeries, who have come

into this cold world of ours far too soon, and who seem to be proclaiming, with melancholy caws, the misery of their young existence. Thousands of lambs, dropped when the snow was on the hills, gave but a feeble bleat and perished. Not a scrap of apple or pear blossom is yet visible; and as for hawthorns, lilacs, and laburnums, it will be well if they are able to put forth their flowers any time between this and July. An obdurate, cold, dry east wind has the monopoly of the compass, reddening the noses, ruffling the skins, irritating the throats, and destroying the tempers of her Majesty's liege subjects of Edinburgh, who are cooped up in their beleaguered city' by that uncivil enemy, the weather. Where are they to fly to? Moffat, if the account of two shivering explorers can be believed, is still as cheerless as Spitzbergen. All that you can do at Melrose is to cower over the fire, and read railway novels. We can see from afar that the Highland hills are yet streaked with snow-nor need we wonder at that, for there, even as we write, comes a blash of unmistakable sleet against the window, warning us that, if we sally forth this day, it must be in a greatcoat and comforter. So what else can we do but work! What should take us to the country? Fishing is manifestly out of the question, because there is little water in the rivers, no insects on the wing, and the trouts have too much sense to expose themselves in such wretched weather as this. Even if they were ready to rise, we see no advantage in laying in a stock of rheumatism suf ficient to last us for the remainder of our life; so in the helplessness, but we trust also the proper spirit of resignation, we put more coals on the fire, and address ourselves to work as the only means of filling up the vacuum between breakfast and dinner, without altogether abandoning the hope that spring or its substitute