ing of Willie Wallace.

_Myself_. You had better be thinking of yourself, man. A strange place
this to come to and think of William Wallace.

_David Haggart_. Why so? Is not his tower just beneath our feet?

_Myself_. You mean the auld ruin by the side of the Nor Loch--the ugly
stane bulk, from the foot of which flows the spring into the dyke, where
the watercresses grow?

_David Haggart_. Just sae, Geordie.

_Myself_. And why were ye thinking of him? The English hanged him long
since, as I have heard say.

_David Haggart_. I was thinking that I should wish to be like him.

_Myself_. Do ye mean that ye would wish to be hanged?

_David Haggart_. I wad na flinch from that, Geordie, if I might be a
great man first.

_Myself_. And wha kens, Davie, how great you may be, even without
hanging? Are ye not in the high road of preferment? Are ye not a bauld
drummer already? Wha kens how high ye may rise? perhaps to be general,
or drum-major.

_David Haggart_. I hae na wish to be drum-major; it were na great things
to be like the doited carle, Else-than-gude, as they call him; and,
troth, he has na his name for naething. But I should have nae objection
to be a general, and to fight the French and Americans, and win myself a
name and a fame like Willie Wallace, and do brave deeds, such as I have
been reading about in his story book.

_Myself_. Ye are a fule, Davie; the story book is full of lies. Wallace,
indeed! the wuddie rebel! I have heard my father say that the Duke of
Cumberland was worth twenty of Willie Wallace.

_David Haggart_. Ye had better say naething agin Willie Wallace,
Geordie, for, if ye do, De'il hae me, if I dinna tumble ye doon the
craig.

* * * * *

Fine materials in that lad for a hero, you will say. Yes, indeed, for a
hero, or for what he afterwards became. In other times, and under other
circumstances, he might have made what is generally termed a great man, a
patriot, or a conqueror. As it was, the very qualities which might then
have pushed him on to fortune and renown were the cause of his ruin. The
war over, he fell into evil courses; for his wild heart and ambitious
spirit could not brook the sober and quiet pursuits of honest industry.

"Can an Arabian steed submit to be a vile drudge?" cries the fatalist.
Nonsense! A man is not an irrational creature, but a reasoning being,
and has something within him beyond mere brutal instinct. The greatest
victory whic