In the same spirit appears to be an old English song, the following snatch of which is introduced into "a very merry and pithie comedie," entitled The longer thou livest, the more Fool thou art:— "Tom a Lin and his wife and his wives mother It may be interesting to mention, moreover, that Joanna Baillie has developed, with the fruitfulness of her own fancy, a similar conception of our hero in her song Tam o'the Lin; and as this humorous reproduction of an old Teutonic legend is not very generally familiar, it will not be out of place here in connection with the more primitive versions of the same theme: "Tam o' the Lin was fu' o' pride, And his weapon he girt to his valorous side, A scabbard o' leather wi' deil-hair't within. Attack me wha daur!' quo' Tam o' the Lin. "Tam o' the Lin he bought a mear; She cost him five shillings, she wasna dear. Tam o' the Lin he courted a may; She stared at him sourly, and said him nay; But he stroked down his jerkin and cocked up his chin She aims at a laird, then,' quo' Tam o' the Lin. Tam o' the Lin he gaed to the fair, Yet he looked wi' disdain on the chapman's ware; 1 See Ritson's Dissertation prefixed to his "Ancient Songs and Ballads,” p lxxxiv. Then chucked out a sixpence, the sixpence was tin. 'There's coin for the fiddlers,' quo' Tam o' the Lin. "Tam o' the Lin wad show his lear, And he scanned o'er the book wi' wise-like stare. He muttered confusedly, but didna begin. 'This is Dominie's business,' quo' Tam o' the Lin. "Tam o' the Lin had a cow wi' ae horn, That likit to feed on his neighbour's corn. The stanes he threw at her fell short o' the skin; 'She's a lucky auld reiver,' quo' Tam o' the Lin. "Tam o' the Lin he married a wife, And she was the torment, the plague o' his life; She lays sae about her, and maks sic a din, 'She frightens the baby,' quo' Tam o' the Lin. "Tam o' the Lin grew dourie and douce, And he sat on a stane at the end o' his house. 'What ails, auld chiel?' He looked haggard and thin. 'I'm no very cheery,' quo' Tam o' the Lin. "Tam o' the Lin lay down to die, And his friends whispered softly and woefully'We'll buy you some masses to scour away sin.' 'And drink at my lykewake,' quo' Tam o' the Lin." Whether this conception of our hero originated from the confidence of his great prototype in the sheer force of his hammer Miölnir exposing him to be outwitted at times by the trickery of Utgard's inhabitants, it is unnecessary for us to inquire. In the ballad of The Young Tamlane the hero assumes the character of one who has entered an unearthly world, and returned from it victorious over the efforts to retain him within its power The legend, moreover, has lost its general relations to. the mythology of the Teutons, and become thoroughly localized. The hero is not merely what a modern song makes him, "a Scotchman born; he announces himself definitely to be a son of " Randolph, Earl Murray;" while "Dunbar, Earl March," is named as the father of the maiden whose daring love achieves his recovery from the world of the fairies. The locality also in which the adventure of the ballad takes place, is assigned to Carterhaugh, at the confluence of the Ettrick and the Yarrow above Selkirk. This spot, though naturally pitched upon by the collector of the Border Minstrelsy as the native home of the legend, is evidently, like Chaster's Wood, Charter Woods, and Kerton Ha', which occur in other versions, merely a local adaptation and corruption of some original common to all these names. Tamlane of our ballad has been kidnapped by the fairies; and the manner of his spiriting away is well described, and worth quoting as a type of such adven "When I was a boy just turned of nine, 66 My uncle sent for me, To hunt, and hawk, and ride with him, There came a wind out of the north, A sharp wind and a snell; And a deep sleep came over me, And frae my horse I fell. "The Queen of Fairies keppit me, In yon green hill to dwell; And I'm a fairy, lythe and limb In this serene land Tamlane would never tire of his new friends, were it not for the dread that his fair and plump appearance may tempt them to use him as a "kane-bairn" for the purpose of paying the next instalment of their tribute to the king of hell. Fortunately, however, he has won at Carterhaugh the dearest tokens of love1 from an earthly maid, fair Janet, who undertakes, at his instruction, the bold feat of rescuing him. from the elfin world. "This night is Hallowe'en, Janet, The morn is Hallowday; And, gin ye dare your true-love win, "The night it is good Hallowe'en, And they that wad their true-love win, Janet, who is brave enough to undertake the "winning " of her lover, is yet doubtful whether she will be able to recognize him "among so many unearthly knights." Tamlane, accordingly, describes the order of the fairy procession which she must watch, the place which he will occupy in it, the distinctive marks by which he may be recognized; and he warns her against what it seems impossible for mortal nerve to avoid-quailing before the appalling artifices by which the fairies will endeavour 1 There is probably a connection between this part of The Young Tamlane and the ballad of Broomfield Hill ("Border Minstrelsy," vol. iii. p. 28), as well as the fragment beginning I'll wager, I'll wager, I'll wager with you, preserved in Herd's "Scottish Songs." See "Border Minstrelsy," vol. ii. p 334, and vol. iii. p. 28. to frighten her from her resolution. The emotion of eeriness could scarcely be worked up with greater power than by this collocation of the "elritch" appearances which are to test the courage of fair Janet. The work of the ballad singer here recalls the mixture of dread ingredients in the hell-broth of Macbeth's witches; or, more appropriately, the frightfully suggestive objects which Tam o' Shanter passed on his road from Ayr; or, perhaps more appropriately still, the combination of horrors ranged before his eyes in Alloway Kirk. "The first company that passes by, "First let pass the black, Janet, And syne let pass the brown; "For I ride on the milk-white steed, My right hand will be gloved, Janet, My left hand will be bare; "They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, |