French public to judge of the extent and importance of the grants made to this Scottish nobleman. I also find that he has extracted the most essential clauses of the charter, and in translating them into French, he has given them with great fidelity. Fénélon was equally earnest. The idea of two great French prelates occupying them. selves in comparing and certifying copies of a Scottish law-paper of fifty pages was truly ridiculous.

At the trial, some French antiquaries, skilled in old writings, were examined about these papers. They at once pronounced them to be forgeries; said they were made with a mixture generally employed in France for imitating old writings; and seemed to treat the whole matter very lightly. The most conclusive evidence, however, was this: the map was made by De Lisle, the celebrated French geographer. It bore the date 1703. This might appear to be the date when it was published; but there were various things engraved on the map, which could not have been there earlier than 1715, and others which shewed a still later date. It will be sufficient to mention one of these. De Lisle is on the map called 'first geographer to the king. It was proved by documents from the proper office in France, that he did not obtain this title until the year 1718. It appeared, indeed, that the date of the first publication was kept on the map, to mark the beginning of the copyright, but that this particular map could not have been printed off until after the year 1717; not only many years after the date given to the inscriptions on it, but some years after Louis XIV., Fénélon, and Fléchier, whose signatures were attached, had died.

The evidence about the charter was, if possible, more conclusive. Such documents are, in Scotland, always recorded in a public register. There was a good reason, however, why the Earl of Stirling's charter, of the year 1639, was not recorded, for a portion of the record, including the year 1639, had been long known to be lost. It would, of course, be very unjust, that Mr Humphreys should lose his rights because the record was lost; and

it was but fair that he should be at liberty to establish the substance of the charter from other sources. His advisers, however, not being entirely acquainted with Scottish law proceedings, were not aware that a royal charter had to pass through several offices, in each of which, if it were not fully recorded, an account of it was kept. There was no account of any such charter in favour of the Earl of Stirling to be found in any of these offices. Further, although the record for the year 1639 was lost, there was an index of its contents in existence, and that contained no mention of such a document. It was so long, too, that the whole blank made by the lost records would not contain it. It contained a reference to the volume of the records from which it professed to be extracted; but the keeper of the records said, that that was not an old form of reference, but one which he had himself introduced a few years ago, when binding the records up in volumes. It was shewn that Archbishop Spotswood, one of the alleged witnesses of the charter, was dead before its date. There were many other little inaccuracies proving the forgery, but these were sufficient.

The jury found that the documents were forged. By a majority, however, they found it not proved that Humphreys was guilty of the forgery, and thus he was, though very narrowly, acquitted. If he was really innocent, he must have been the victim of a most extraordinary system of complicated deceit. Of course, by this result of the trial, the whole of his claims at once fell to the ground.

What became of the so-called Earl of Stirling, on this signal failure of his pretensions, we never heard. The case at the time created a considerable sensation in Edinburgh; and the manner in which it was investigated and settled, will probably have a salutary effect in preventing the assumption of groundless claims to Scottish peerages.

DOGIAN A.

WHENEVER I feel a fit of low spirits approaching, my invariable resource is to call my dog, and invite him to a social ramble. There are few companions more agreeable than a dog. Friends may go out with you when they would rather stay at home; their minds are perhaps occupied with their own affairs, and often the merest trifle will withdraw their attention from you at a moment when you most require their sympathy. This is not the case with the dog: his whole attention is given to his master; he tracks his steps, watches his looks, and obeys his commands with docility and cheerfulness. Ingratitude cannot estrange him; even neglect fails to chill his constant love.

Whenever I meet any of my literary compatriots with a bilious-looking face, carrying into the field the same thoughts which had filled his mind in the study, I cannot help saying to myself: What a pity he does not get a dog!' There is more in this than people at first sight may imagine; but when it is considered that the object of the student's walk is generally to rub away the cobwebs which intense study has engendered in the brain, to change the current of the thoughts, to unbend the overstretched mind, and to rest the wearied faculties, for all these purposes there is no companion like the dog; and, for a similar reason to that given by the witty Frenchman for frequenting the society of a lady who had not two ideas in her head-namely, he went there to rest his mind. In like manner, I would recommend all who are suffering from petty cares and worrying trifles, to try the effect of a good brisk walk with their dog; it will do more to dispel the clouds of ill-humour and vexation than could be effected by the eloquence of a Cicero. The incessant scampering to and fro of the happy creature-happy that it has got its master for a companion and observer of its

pranks--its heedless chase after sparrows, pigeons, or any other feathered and winged animal which has alighted on the ground-its wild baying and barking when full drive after the objects of pursuit-and anon its returning with panting tongue, sparkling eyes, and merry wagging tail, to look up in your face and receive its reward in a word of kindness-all, all is exhilarating, and helps wonderfully to enliven the dulness of a solitary stroll.

When my friends smile, as they occasionally do, at my partiality for this faithful friend of man, I defend myself by quoting the great men of antiquity who shared in the same sentiments. Alexander the Great was so grieved at the death of a favourite dog, that, as a relief to his sorrow, he raised a city in his honour. No one need be ashamed of writing in praise of dogs, when even Solon himself has not disdained to commemorate the following instance of affection in a dog called Hircanus towards his master Lysimachus, king of Macedon. This prince being killed in a battle against Seleucus, king of Syria, his body was discovered in the field of battle by the plaintive cries of his dog, which was found lying beside it. On the obsequies of the king, Hircanus leaped on the funeral pile, and perished in the flames that consumed the body of his beloved master. When such authorities fail, I put my adversaries to silence by presenting them with a few passages from Washington Irving's delightful description of a visit to Abbotsford.

After my return from Melrose Abbey,' says he, 'Scott proposed a ramble, to shew me something of the surrounding country. As we sallied forth, every dog in the establishment turned out to attend us. There was the old and well-known staghound, Maida, a noble animal, and a great favourite of Scott's; and Hamlet, the black greyhound, a mild, thoughtless youngster, which had not yet arrived at the years of discretion; and Finella, a beautiful setter, with soft silken hair, long pendent ears, and a mild eye, the parlour favourite. When in front of the house, we were joined by a superannuated greyhound, which came from the kitchen, wagging

his tail, and was cheered by Scott as an old friend and comrade. In our walks, Scott would frequently pause in conversation, to notice his dogs, and speak to them, as if rational companions; and indeed there appears to be a vast deal of rationality in these faithful attendants on man, derived from their close intimacy with him. Maida deported himself with a gravity becoming his age and size, and seemed to consider himself called upon to preserve a great degree of dignity and decorum in our society. As he jogged along a little distance ahead of us, the young dogs would gambol about him, leap on his neck, worry at his ears, and endeavour to tease him into a gambol. The old dog would keep on for a long time, with imperturbable solemnity, now and then seeming to rebuke the wantonness of his young companions. At length, he would make a sudden turn, seize one of them, and tumble him in the dust; then, giving a glance at us, as much as to say: "You see, gentlemen, I can't help giving way to this nonsense," would resume his gravity, and jog on as before. Scott amused himself with these peculiarities. "I make no doubt," said he, "when Maida is alone with these young dogs, he throws gravity aside, and plays the boy as much as any of them; but he is ashamed to do so in our company, and seems to say: 'Ha' done with your nonsense, youngsters; what will the laird and that other gentleman think of me if I give way to such foolery?"

'While we were discussing the humours and peculiarities of our canine companions, some object provoked their spleen, and produced a sharp and petulant barking from the smaller fry; but it was sometime before Maida was sufficiently roused to ramp forward two or three bounds, and join the chorus with a deep-mouthed bow-wow. It was but a transient outbreak, and he returned instantly, wagging his tail, and looking up dubiously in his master's face, uncertain whether he would receive censure or applause. "Ay, ay, old boy," cried Scott, "you have done wonders; you have shaken the Eildon Hills with your roaring; you may now lay by your artillery for the rest of the day. Maida," continued he, "is like the great gun