On the old Tolbooth of Glasgow, (now pulled
down,) was the following inscription, in letters
of gold.

Hæc domus odit, amat, punit, conservat, honorat,
Nequitiam, pacem, crimina, jura, probos.

In English thus:

This house doth hate all wickedness,
Loves peace, but faults corrects,
Observes all laws of righteousness,

And good men it erects.

Over the principal entrance into the old tower of
Branxholm, on Tiviot water, three miles above
Hawick, is the following inscription.

In varld is nocht, hes brought yat sal lest ay,
Tharfore serve God, keip veil ye rod, thy fame sall
nocht dekay.

Sir Walter Scott of Branxholm, knight, Margaret Douglas.-1517.

A stranger going into the church of Laming. ton, in the Upper Ward of Lanarkshire, one day in winter, wrote the following stanza on a pew:

A cauld cauld kirk, an' in't but few,
A caulder minister never spak,

His sermon made us a' turn blue,

But its be warm e'er I come back,

A Paraphrase of the first four verses of Barbara Allen. Made on Lord D's regiment receiving orders to march from Maestrecht to Sas Van Ghent, in Dutch Flanders. By Sir Robert Murray Keith, afterwards British ambassador at the Court of Vienna.

I.

It fell about the month of June,

Or in the month of July,

That Jan de Back*, in the low country,
Did use us very cruelly.

II.

A letter by the post he sent,

With news that were right dreary,
That we must march to Sas van Ghent,
Of which we'll soon be weary.
III.

"Rise up, rise up, young men," he said,
""Tis time that ye were stepping:

"Of the bad air be not afraid,

"Take ay the t'ather chappin.
IV.

"For dinna ye mind as well as me,
"Breda, where ye were lying;

"The lads that drank came off Scot free,
"The sober folk lay dying."

* Dutch Secretary at War.

A Paraphrase of the CXXXVIIth Psalm, made at Sas Van Ghent, when the Regiment was very sickly. By the same.

I

By Sas's sickly streams we sat,
And ay we grain'd, and ay we grat,
When Scotland we thought on.

Our bagpipes hung neglected by,
The bag was toom, the whistle dry,
And silent was the drone.

II.

Now they wha brought us to this town,
Cry'd, "Lads, why are ye a' cast down?
"Come sing us a Scots sang."

But surely we'd be sair to blame,
To sing our sangs sae far frae hame,
To sic a scurvy gang.

III.

Auld Reekie I did ne'er forget,

For ony town that I have seen yet,
In a' their foreign lands:

Gin e'er I do, in time to come,
I pray that I may be struck dumb,
And pow'rless be my hands.

IV.

How happy would the Dutchmen be,

If Britain was sunk in the sea!

"Twould better their conditon.

But let's gang on as we've begun,
'Tis to be hop'd we'll spoil their fun,
And nick them of their fishing.

V.

O then we'll gar them a' repent
The sending us to Sas van Ghent,

We'll pay them for their pains.

We'll spare them neither young nor auld,
We'll tak their gaytlings by the spauld,
And dad them to the stanes,

In the year 1694, a number of sheep were stolen from the tenants of the Earl of Monteith, and it was suspected that they were driven to Strathfillen.

Monteith writes thus to the Earl of Braidalbine :—
Unto your Lordship I complain,
My sheep have gone astray,

And if your Lordship's men be clean,
I have no more to say.

Braidalbine answers thus:

My men I all convened have,

And they do all deny.

And if you say they've stole your sheep,
By G-d they'll steal your kye.

EPIGRAM ON JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ., AND DR SAMUEL

JOHNSON, BEING CONFINED TO THE ISLE OF SKY..

Two gems, the nation's greatest boast,
To Scotia's plains drew near,
Bright to illume her dismal coast,

And barren fields to cheer.

She fearing that their gracious forms,
To other climes would fly,
Learning and Liberty by storms
Confin'd to Isle of Sky.

ON AN EMINENT SECEDER USING THE PROVERB, "WORDS ARE BUT WIND."

Zealot, if what you say be true,
No promises can bind,
And breaking of the Solemn League,
Is only breaking wind.

EPIGRAM WRITTEN ON THE WINDOW OF AN INN.

Quid pluma levius? pulvis: Quid pulvere? Ventus: Quid venta? mulier: Quid muliere? nihil.

What is lighter than a feather?
Dust, my friends, in driest weather.
What's lighter than the dust, I pray?
The wind that drives it far away.