namely, by assuming the form of her husband; and that the consequence was the birth of the child who was destined to be the Hercules of the Britons, and who when born was named Arthur. In the sequel, Gorbios was killed, and then Uther married his widow.

Such, according to Geoffrey of Monmouth, was the origin of King Arthur. On the death of Uther, Arthur, it is said, was unanimously chosen to succeed him, and was crowned at Silchester.

In recounting the stirring events of Arthur's life and reign, Geoffrey alludes to his wars with the Saxons, when he crushed the Picts and Scots to such a helpless condition that they took shelter in the Islands of Loch-Lomond, and there made their peace with him. He next conquered Ireland, Iceland, Gothland, the Orcades, Norway and Denmark. He afterwards subdued the whole of Gaul, the prolonged conquest occupying nearly

nine years.

Arthur, at this time, according to the same authority, being in the full zenith of his power, was suddenly startled by a peremptory summons from Lucius Tiberius, the "Procurator" of the republic of Rome, to restore to Rome the provinces which he had unjustly usurped on the Continent, and also to pay the tribute which Britain had formerly paid to the Imperial power. At a great council held it was resolved to retort by demanding tribute of Rome, and to march an army immediately into Italy to subdue the Imperial city.

Arthur entrusted the government of Britain to his nephew, Modred, and his queen, Guanhumara, and then embarked at Southampton for the Continent.

The army of Britain soon encountered the Romans, who had advanced into Gaul to meet them. After much fighting, and great slaughter on both sides, the Romans were driven out of the country with the loss of their Commander, Lucius Tiberius, who was slain by Arthur's nephew, Walgan, the Gawain of later romance

Disastrous news from Britain reached the King when on his

march to Rome. Modred, who had been left there as Regent during the absence of the King, conspired with the queen, whom he married, and usurped the crown he had sworn faithfully to defend. Arthur, dividing his forces, immediately returned to Britain, and soon encountered in battle the powerful army which Modred had assembled at Richborough in Kent, to meet him. Although in this battle Arthur lost a great many of his best generals, including, among the rest, his nephew, Walgan, Modred was ignominiously defeated and put to flight. The queen was so overwhelmed with grief and shame by the unexpected news of her paramour's defeat, that she fled in all haste to Caerlcon, and took refuge in a nunnery, where she resolved to pass the remainder of her life in penitence for her sins.

After two other battles, obstinately maintained on both sides, Modred was slain, and Arthur himself mortally wounded. He was carried to the Isle of Avallon, where he died and was buried in the year 542.

Such is substantially the account given by Geoffrey of Monmouth, and the so called British historians, of the fabulous history of King Arthur. His knights of the round table which so charmingly swell out the story, are the productions of the romance writers of a later period. Entire belief in these fascinating narratives has, however, gradually diminished, and it is now very much doubted whether such a personage ever existed, Geoffrey's history being generally regarded as mere fable. It is certain that no such name as King Arthur was known before the Norman period, and Giraldus Cambrensis in the end of the twelfth century proves indisputably that Geoffrey's stories were not Welsh. It therefore has been surmised, that they were derived from Brittany, and that Arthur may have been a personage in the mythic history of the Bretons. While the historian, however, discards the whole history as entirely fabulous, it has, in the inverse direction, risen higher in the estimation of the poet, the genius of Bulwer and Tennyson having shed a lustre around it to which it was not otherwise entitled.

It is under the halo of romance, therefore, that we proceed to examine these curious monumental stones which tradition associates with the name of the faithless wife of King Arthur, the previous narratives, doubtless, adding additional zest and interest to our examination.

The principal stone stands immediately in front of the church, and is, apparently, well cared for, and reverentially preserved. A variety of sculptured figures, for the most part of the unique and monstrous kind, cover the surface of the monument, all appearing, not only in bas-relief but as sharp and perfect as when originally fashioned by the cunning workman's primitive chisel of the sixth or seventh century. These finely cut representations of the fearful punishment of Vanora's crime, might be more clearly and prominently brought out, were it not for the sacred moss of ages which partially covers them. But no Vandalic, sacrilegious hand must desecrate the venerable shrine, or impair the ancient associations which hover round these precious relics of the past. The yellow moss itself suggests the idea of great age and antiquarian value, and must not be rudely touched or obliterated.

One of these monumental stones now lies near the entrance to the manse, religiously preserved among the shrubs and flowers which line the beautiful pathway from the gate to the minister's house.

In all these stones, the sculptured figures are of the monstrous kind. One is a large serpent fastened to a Bull's mouth; another resembling a Centaur; and two representations of wild beasts tearing a human body; and one where the body seems tied, or close to chariot wheels, which may refer to Vanora, or may have given rise to the tradition.

The old church of Meigle was totally consumed by fire some years ago. A new and exceedingly handsome church has been erected on the site of the ancient edifice, which in the interior, as well as exterior, may favourably compare with any of our recently erected City churches.

66

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE ABBEY OF CUPAR-ANGUS.

By a steel-clenched postern door,

They enter'd now the chancel tall;

The darken'd roof rose high aloof

On pillars lofty and light and small :

The Key-stone, that lock'd each ribbed aisle,
Was a fleur-de-lis, or a quatre-feuille ;

The corbells were carved grotesque and grim;

And the pillars, with clustr'd shafts so trim,

With base and with capital flourish'd around,
Seem'd bundles of lances which garlands had bound."

Lay of the Last Minstrel.

"THE great misfortune of my life," saith Robert Burns,— was to want an aim.” In every decade of life, it is well for man to have, in small matters as well as great, some distinct and definite object always in view. The possession of this inestimable treasure will not only balance and steady the various faculties of the mind, but effectually serve to soften and molify the sharp edge of those vissicitudes, disappointments, and sorrows, which all to some extent experience in their chequered journey through this sublunary state of existence, as preparatory to the full and eternal enjoyment of that celestial blessedness, which, as the inheritance of the saints, await the righteous as their reward, when death at last shall break their bands asunder, and open for their joyful entrance, the gates of immortality.

the

As in walking along the beautiful pathway leading from Newtyle to Meigle, we lovingly discoursed together on good old times" of Scotland's ancient history, let us now,

on

some kindred subject, confidingly commune together, as we wend our level, bough-o'ershadowed way between the famous monument of Vanora, and the solitary remains of the once stately and magnificent Abbey of Cupar. Let us take at random, the fascinating theme of Literary Genius, with all its disheartening struggles, yet sublime and hopeful surroundings.

The specious yet forbidding dogma, that the lover and follower of literature could not be at the same time a man of business, is fortunately, now, to a certain extent exploded. Recent brilliant instances attest the perfect compatibility of high intellect and lofty genius being occasionally combined with the most acute, active, and solid habits of business. While admitting this to the fullest extent, however, we must take care not to confound two things, in themselves essentially different. The first of these is, that true genius is not the result of external circumstances; and the second, that native inspiration will shew itself, in some way or another, independent of, and altogether apart from, all external causes whatsoever. "Some minds," says Irving; "seem almost to create themselves, springing up under every disadvantage, and working their solitary but irresistible way through a thousand obstacles. Nature seems to delight in disappointing the assiduities of art, with which it would rear dulness to maturity; and to glory in the vigour and luxuriance of her chance productions. She scatters the seeds of genius to the winds, and though some may perish among the stony places of the world, and some may be choked by the thorns and brambles of early adversity, yet others will now and then strike roots even in the clefts of the rock; struggle bravely up into sunshine, and spread over their sterile birth-place all the beauties of vegetation."

Two equally repugnant dogmas still, however, to some extent, exert their influence in society, but which are not the less easily overthrown. I allude, first, to the commonly received notion, that the man of great grasp of intellect and