he may tell it to you. Now all having been transacted in the terms of kindness, it having been received as a most special favour from the king and altogether by my means, my Lord Tarbat having pressed the money upon me as an acknowledgement of my kindness, it having been mentioned as a composition merely by my own choice, because I would not receive money but from my master, I wonder that any man of honour can turn such a matter to a process; however all I would know is whether it is best to depone or refuse, and leave the matter to be received as true upon refusal to swear: for if they have a mind to have it, they will have it right or wrong. You will have occasion against Thursday, so write me about it then. Employ Sir James Grant in all my law-matters, for I am convinced of his kindness, and of his great diligence. I have no more to add now. I am still very much indisposed, though incomparably better than I was at Stirling. I wish my friends may apply timeously to get my time prolonged, for it will never do me good

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else: And I fancy it will be my friends' fault if they do not obtain that favour; when my wife did so much against all men's expectation. But if they will not grant any, if I be alive I'll keep my day.—Adieu."

Copy Letter Earl of Perth to BlairDrummond, 27th July, 1691.

"Sir, I forgot one article of the interrogatories when I wrote to you last night, viz. that of my giving commission to you or John Drummond to repay the money. I never thought of repaying of it but conditionally, that is for such an act of kindness as might deliver me out of the hands of such as persecute me so severely. Read my letter to Sir James Grant which I wrote to you yesternight, and this so far as it relates to the interrogatory, and let him send me word what advice he thinks fit upon the occasion.-Adieu,"

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LERWICK, ZETLAND, 6th August, 1814. Hire a six-oared boat, whaler-built, with a taper point at each end, so that the rudder can be hooked on either at pleasure. These vessels look very frail, but are admirably adapted to the stormy seas, where they live, when a ship's boat, stiffly and compactly built, must necessarily perish. They owe this to their elasticity and lightness. Some of the rowers wear a sort of coats of dressed sheep leather, sewed together with thongs. We sailed out at the southern inlet of the harbour, rounding successively the capes called Hammer, Kirkubus, and others, consisting of bold cliffs, hollowed into caverns, or divided into pillars and arches of fantastic appearance, by the constant action of the waves. As we passed the most northerly of these capes, called, I think, the Ord, and turned into the open sea, the scenes became yet more tremendously subblime. Rocks, upwards of four or

five hundred feet in height, presented their gigantic forms, sinking perpendicularly into the main, which is very deep even within a few fathoms of their base. One of these capes is called the Bard's Head; a huge projecting arch is named the Giant's Leg.

"Here the lone sea-bird wakes his wildest cry"

Not lone, however, in one sense, for their numbers, and the variety of their tribes, are immense, but, I think, do not quite equal those of Dunbug, on the coast of Buchan. Standing across a little bay, we reached the Isle of Noss, having hitherto coasted the shore of Brassay. Here we see a detached and precipitous rock, or island, being a portion rent by a narrow sound from the rest of the cliff, and called the Holm. This detached rock is wholly inaccessible, unless by a pass of peril, entitled the

Cradle of Noss, which is a sort of wooden chair, travelling from precipice to precipice on rings, which run upon two cables, stretched across over the gulf. We viewed this extraordinary contrivance from beneath, at the distance of perhaps 100 fathoms at least. The boatmen made light of the risk of crossing it, but it must be tremendous to a brain disposed to be giddy. Seen from beneath, a man in the basket would resemble a large crow or raven, floating between rock and rock. The purpose of this strange contrivance is to give the tenant the benefit of putting a few sheep upon the Holm, the top of which is level, and affords good pasture. The animals are transported in the cradle by one at a time, a shepherd holding them upon his knees. The channel between the Holm and the isle is passable by boats in calm weather, but not at the time when we saw it. Rowing on through a heavy tide, and nearer the breakers than any but Zetlanders would have ventured, we rounded another immensely high cape, called by the islanders the Noup of Noss, but by sailors Hengcliff, or Hang-Cliff, from its having a projecting appearance. This was the highest rock we had yet seen, though not quite perpendicular. Its height has never been measured: I should judge it exceeds 600 feet; it has been conjectured to measure 800 and upwards. Our steersman had often descended this precipitous rock, having only the occasional assistance of a rope, one end of which he secured from time to time round some projecting cliff. The collecting sea-fowl for their feathers was the object, and he might gain five or six dozen, worth eight or ten shillings, by such an adventure. These huge precipices abound with caverns, many of which

run much farther into the rock than any one has ventured to explore. We entered (with much hazard to our boat) one called the Orkney-man's Harbour, because an Orkney vessel run in there some years since to escape a French privateer. The entrance was lofty enough to admit us without striking the mast, but a sudden turn in the direction of the cave would have consigned us to utter darkness if we had gone in farther. The dropping of the sea-fowl and cormorants into the water from the sides of the cavern, when disturbed by our approach, had something in it wild and terrible.

After passing Hengcliff, or the Noup, the precipices become lower, and sink into a rocky shore, with deep indentations, call by the natives Gios. Here we would fain have landed to visit the cradle from the top of the cliff, but the surf rendered it impossible. We therefore rowed on like Thalaba ❝ in Allah's name" around the Isle of Noss, and landed upon the opposite side of the small sound which divides it from Brassa. Noss exactly resembles, in shape, Salisbury Craigs, supposing the sea to flow down the valley called the Hunter's Bog, and round the foot of the precipice. The eastern part of the isle is fine smooth pasture, the best I have seen in these isles, sloping upwards to the verge of the tremendous rocks which form its western front.

We had occasion to-day to make some cursory observations on the state of improvement in the agriculture of Zetland. We had the pleasure to spend the day with a gentleman of good property, who is an improver, and a moderate one. He has got a ploughman from Scotland, who acts as grieve, but as yet with the preju

dices and inconveniences which usually attach themselves to the most salutary experiments. The ploughman complains that the Zetlanders work as if a spade or hoe burned their fingers, and that though they only get a shilling a-day, yet the labour of three of them does not exceed what one good hand in Berwickshire would do for 2s. 6d. The islanders retort, that a man can do no more than he can; that they are not used to be taxed to their work so severely; that they will work as their fathers did, and not otherwise; and at first the landlord found difficulty in getting hands to work under his Caledonian task-master. Besides, they find fault with his ho, and gee, and wo, when ploughing. "He speaks to the horse," they say, "and they gang-and there's something no canny about the man." In short, be tween the prejudices of laziness and superstition, the ploughman leads a sorry life of it: yet these prejudices are daily abating under the steady and indulgent management of the proprietor. Indeed, no where is improvement in agriculture more necessary. An old-fashioned Zetland plough is a real curiosity. It had but one handle, or stilt, and a coulter, but no sock; it ripped the furrow, therefore, but did not throw it aside. When this precious machine was in motion, it was dragged by four little bullocks, yoked a-breast, and as many ponies, harnessed, or rather strung, to the plough by ropes and thongs of raw hide. One man went before, walking backward, with his face to the bullocks, and pulling them forward by main strength. Another held down the plough by its single handle, and made a sort of slit in the earth, which two women, who close the procession, converted into a

VOL. V. PART II.

furrow, by throwing the earth aside with shovels. An antiquary might be of opinion that this was the very model of the original plough invented by Triptolemus; and it is but justice to Zetland to say, that these reliques of ancient agricultural art will soon have all the interest attached to rarity. We could only hear of one of these ploughs within three miles of Lerwick.

This and many other barbarous habits to which the Zetlanders were formerly wedded, seem only to have subsisted because their amphibious character of fishers and farmers induced them to neglect agricultural arts. A Zetland farmer looks to the sea to pay his rent; if the land finds him a little meal and kail, and if he be a very clever fellow, a few potatoes, it is very well. The more intelligent part of the landholders are sensible of all this, but argue like men of good sense and humanity on the subject. To have good farming, you must have a considerable farm, upon which capital may be laid out to advantage. But to introduce this change suddenly would turn adrift perhaps twenty families, who now occupy small farms pro indiviso, cultivating by patches, or rundale and runrig, what part of the property is arable, and stocking the pasture as a common upon which each family turns out such stock as they can rear, without observing any proportion as to the number which it can support In this way many townships, as they are called, subsist, indeed, but in a precarious and indigent manner. Fishing villages seem the natural resource for this excess of population, but, besides the expence of erecting them, the habits of the people are to be considered, who, with "one foot on sea and one on land," would be with

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equal reluctance confined to either element. The remedy seems to be, that the larger proprietors should gradually set the example of better cultivation, and introduce better implements of agriculture. They will, by degrees, be imitated by the numerous class of inferior proprietors, and by their tenants, and as turnips and hay crops became more general, a better and heavier class of stock will naturally be introduced, and attention paid to preserving the breed.

The sheep in particular might be improved into a valuable stock, and would no doubt thrive, since the winters are very temperate. But I should be sorry that extensive pasture farms were introduced, as it would tend to diminish a population invaluable for the supply of our navy. The improvement of the arable land, on the contrary, would soon set them beyond the terrors of famine with which the islanders are at present occasionally visited; and, combined with fisheries, carried on not by farmers, but by real fishers, would amply supply the inhabitants, without diminish ing the export of dried fish. This separation of trades will in time take place, and then the prosperous days of Zetland will begin. The proprietors are already upon the alert, studying the means of gradual improvement, and no humane person would wish them to drive it on too rapidly, to the distress and perhaps destruction of the numerous tenants who have been bred under a different system.

Superstitions of the Zetlanders.

I have gleaned something of the peculiar superstitions of the Zetlanders, which are numerous and potent.

Witches, fairies, &c. are as numerous as ever they were in Teviotdale. The latter are called Trows, probably from the Norwegian Dwergh or dwarf, the D being readily converted into T. The dwarfs are the prime agents in the machinery of Norwegian superstition. The trows do not differ from the fairies of the lowlands, or Sighean of the Highlanders. They steal children, dwell within the interior of green hills, and often carry mortals into their recesses. Some yet alive pretend to have been carried off in this way, and obtain credit for the marvels they tell of the subterranean habitations of the trows. Sometimes, when a person becomes melancholy and low-spirited, the trows are supposed to have stolen the real being, and left a moving phantom to represent him. Some. times they are said to steal only the heart (like Lancashire witches.) There are cures in each case. party's friends resort to a cunning man or woman, who hangs about the neck a triangular stone in the shape of a heart, or conjures back the lost individual, by retiring to the hills and employing the necessary spells. A common receipt when a child appears consumptive and puny is, that the conjuror places a bowl of water on the patient's head, and pours melted lead into it through the wards of a key. The metal assumes of course a variety of shapes, from which he selects a portion after due consideration, which is sewn into the shirt of the patient. Sometimes no part of the lead suits the seer's fancy. Then the operation is recommenced, until he obtains a fragment of such a configuration as suits his mystical purpose.

The

The Zetlanders are a tall, manly, handsome race of people, with long