subsequent times. The frequent coarseness of this poetical gaiety, it would indeed be more easy than agreeable to prove by quotations; and if we could forget how very gross the humour of Chaucer sometimes is, we might, on a general comparison of the Scotch with the English poets, extol the comparative delicacy of English taste; for Skelton himself, though more burlesque than Sir David Lyndsay in style, is less outrageously indecorous in matter. At a period when James IV. was breaking lances in the lists of chivalry, and when the court and court poets of Scotland might be supposed to have possessed ideas of decency, if not of refinement, Dunbar at that period addresses the queen, on the occasion of having danced in her majesty's chamber, with jokes which a beggar wench of the present day would probably consider as an offence to her delicacy.

Sir David Lyndsay was a courtier, a foreign ambassador, and the intimate companion of a prince; for he attended James V. from the first to the last day of that monarch's life. From his

rank in society, we might suppose, that he had purposely laid aside the style of a gentleman, and clothed the satirical moralities, which he levelled against popery, in language suited to the taste of the vulgar; if it were easy to conceive the taste of the vulgar to have been, at that period, grosser than that of their superiors. Yet while Lyndsay's satire, in tearing up the depravities of a corrupted church, seems to be polluted with the scandal on which it preys, it is impossible to peruse his writings without confessing the importance of his character to the country in which he lived, and to the cause which he was born to serve. In his tale of Squyre Meldrum we lose sight of the reformer. It is a little romance, very amusing as a draught of Scottish chivalrous manners, apparently drawn from the life, and blending a sportive and familiar with an heroic and amatory interest. Nor is its broad, careless diction, perhaps, an unfavourable relief to the romantic spirit of the adventures which it portrays.

JAMES I. of Scotland was born in the year 1394, and became heir-apparent to the Scottish crown by the death of his brother, Prince David. Taken prisoner at sea by the English, at ten years of age, he received some compensation for his cruel detention by an excellent education. It appears that he accompanied Henry V. into France, and there distinguished himself by his skill and bravery. On his return to his native country he endeavoured, during too short a reign, to strengthen the rights of the crown and people against a tyrannical aristocracy. He was the first who convoked commissioners from the shires, in place of the numerous lesser barons, and he endeavoured to create a house of commons in Scotland, by separating the representatives of the people from the peers; but his nobility foresaw the effects of his scheme, and too successfully resisted it. After clearing the lowlands of Scotland from feudal oppression, he visited the highlands, and crushed several refractory chieftains. Some instances of his justice are recorded, which rather resemble the cruelty of the times in which he lived, than his own personal character; but in such times justice herself wears a horrible aspect. One Macdonald, a petty chieftain of the north, displeased with a

widow on his estate for threatening to appeal to the king, had ordered her feet to be shod with iron plates nailed to the soles; and then insultingly told her that she was thus armed against the rough roads. The widow, however, found means to send her story to James, who seized the savage, with twelve of his associates, whom he shod with iron, in a similar manner, and having exposed them for several days in Edinburgh, gave them over to the executioner.

While a prisoner in Windsor Castle, James had seen and admired the beautiful Lady Jane Beaufort, daughter of the Duke of Somerset. Few royal attachments have been so romantic and so happy. His poem entitled the Quair*, in which he pathetically laments his captivity, was devoted to the celebration of this lady; whom he obtained at last in marriage, together with his liberty, as Henry conceived that his union with the granddaughter of the Duke of Lancaster might bind the Scottish monarch to the interests of England.

James perished by assassination, in the 42nd year of his age, leaving behind him the example of a patriot king, and of a man of genius universally accomplished.

* Quair is the old Scotch word for a book.

She. At luvis leir gif thow will leir ",
Take thair an A, B, C1,

Be kind, courtas, and fair of feir,
Wyse, hardy, and frè *.

Sè that no danger do thè deir1,

Quhat dule in dern thow driem,
Preiss the with pane at all poweir",
Be patient, and previe。.

I. Robene sat on a good green hill. Keeping a flock of cattle. Merry Makyne said to him.- Robene, take pity on me. I have loved me openly and secretly.w These years two or three. My sorrow, in secret, unless thou share.- Undoubtedly I shall die.

II. Robene answered, by the rood. Nothing of love I know. b But keep my sheep under yon wood.-c Lo where they range in a row. What has marred thee in thy mood. Makyne, show thou to me. Or what is love or to be loved.-Fain would I learn that law (of love).

III. At the lore of love if thou wilt learn. Take there an A, B, C.- Be kind, courteous, and fair of aspect or feature. Wise, hardy, and free. See that no danger daunt thee. Whatever sorrow in secret thou sufferest. Exert thyself with pains to thy utmost power. Be patient and privy.

VI.

He. Makyne, to morne this ilka tyde,
And ye will meit me heir ';

Peradventure my scheip may gang besyde",
Quhill we haif liggit full neir 1,

Bot maugre haif I, an I byde,

Fra they begin to steir,

Quhat lyis on hairt I will nocht hyd,
Makyne then mak gud cheir.

IV. P Robene answered her again.-4 I wot not what is love. But I (have) wonder, certainly. What makes thee thus melancholy. The weather is fair, and I am glad." My sheep go healthful above (or in the uplands). -If we should play in this plain. They would reprove us both.

V. x Robene, take heed unto my tale.-y And do all as I advise. And thou shalt have my heart entirely.a Since God sends good for evil.-b And for mourning consolation - I am now in secret with thee, but if I separate.-d Doubtless I shall die (broken-hearted).

VI. Makyne, to-morrow this very time. If ye will meet me here. Perhaps my sheep may go aside.h Until we have lain near.

VII. i Robene, thou robbest my quiet and rest.—j I but thee alone.-k Makyne, adieu, the sun goes west. The day is nearly gone.-m Robene, in sorrow I am so beset. That love will be my bane.- Go love, Makyne, where thou wilt.-P For sweetheart I love none.

VIII. Robene, I am in such a state. I sigh, and that full sore.- Makyne, I have been here some time. At home God grant I were.-u My sweet Robene, talk a while. If thou wilt do no more.- Makyne, some other man beguile. For homeward I will fare.

IX. y Robene on his way went. As light as leaf of tree. Makyne mourned in her thoughts.-b And thought him never to see.-e Robene went over the hill.

Then Makyne cried on high.-e Now you may sing, I am destroyed.-f What ails, love, with me?

X. Makyne went home without fail.-h Full after she would weep.-i By that (time) some of Makyne's sorrow. Crept through his heart.-k He followed fast to lay hold of her. And held good watch of her.

XI. m Abide, abide, thou fair Makyne.-n A word for any thing's (sake).-o For all my love shall be thine.P Without departing.-9 To have thy heart all mine. Is all that I covet. My sheep, to-morrow, till nine.t Will need no keeping.

XII. u For you made game of my pain. I shall say like you.- Mourn on, I think to do better (than be in love).

XV. Makyne, the hope of all my health.-y My heart is on thee set. And (I) shall ever more be true to thee. While I may live, without ceasing.-b Never to fail as others fail.- Whatever favour I obtain.-d Robene, with thee I will not deal.-e Adieu! for thus we met.

XVI. f Makyne went home blythe enough.-g Over the hoary woodlandst.-h Robene mourn'd, and Makyne laughed. She sang, he sighed sore.- And so left him woeful and overcome.-k In dolour and care. Keeping his herd under a cliff.-m Among the hoary hillocks.

*Spend, if it be not a corruption of the text, is apparently the imperfect of a verb; but I cannot find in any glossary, or even in Dr. Jamieson's Scottish Dictionary, the verb to which it may be traced so as to make sense. I suppose the meaning is" there was a time when

+ Vide Jamieson's Dictionary, voc. HAIR. The words holtis hair have been differently ex

plained.

THE little that is known of Dunbar has been gleaned from the complaints in his own poetry, and from the abuse of his contemporary Kennedy, which is chiefly directed against his poverty. From the colophon of one of his poems, dated at Oxford, it has been suggested, as a conjecture, that he studied at that university. By his own account, he travelled through France and England as a novice of the Franciscan order; and, in that capacity, confesses that he was guilty of sins, probably professional frauds, from the stain

of which the holy water could not cleanse him. On his return to Scotland he commemorated the nuptials of James IV. with Margaret Tudor, in his poem of the Thistle and Rose; but we find that James turned a deaf ear to his remonstrances for a benefice, and that the queen exerted her influence in his behalf ineffectually. Yet, from the verses on his dancing in the queen's chamber, it appears that he was received at court on familiar terms.

I.

The fifteenth night.-b Before the day-light.-c I lay in a trance.-d And then I saw both heaven and hell.-e Methought among the fell fiends.-f The devil made proclaim a dance.-g Of sinners that were never shriven. The evening preceding Lent. To make their observance. He bade (his) gallants go prepare a masque. And cast up dances in the skies.

II. Holy harlots in haughty guise.- Came in with many sundry masks." But yet Satan never laughed.— o While priests came with their bare shaven necks.P Then all the fiends laughed and made signs of derision, - Names of spirits.

[+ Dunbar in 1477 was entered among the Determinantes, or Bachelors of Arts, at Salvator's College, St. Andrew's, and in 1479 he took his degree there of Master of Arts. (See Laing's Dunbar, vol, i. p. 9.) That he studied at Oxford at any time is highly improbable.]

IV.

Then Ire cam in with sturt and strife,
His hand was ay upon his knyfe,
He brandeist lyk a beir;
Bostaris, braggaris, and barganeris,
After him passit into pairis,

All bodin in feir of weirf.

III. Let's see, quoth he, now who begins- With that the foul seven deadly sins.-t Began to leap at once. -u With hair combed back (and) bonnet to one side.Likely to make wasteful wants.- Like a wheel.Hung all the rumples to the heel.-y His cassock for the nonce. Many a proud impostor with him tripped.a Through scalding fire as they skipt.-b They grinned with hideous groans.

IV. c Then Ire came with trouble and strife.d Boasters, braggarts, and bullies-e After him passed in pairs. All arrayed in feature of war.

[In 1500 he received a yearly pension of ten pounds from King James," to be pait to him for al the dais of his life, or quhil he be promovit be our Souerane Lord to a benefice of xl li. or aboue." The pension was raised to xx li. in 1507, and to lxxx li. in 1510, the latter to be paid till such time as he should receive a benefice of one hundred pounds or upwards.]