hich for
thirty years was the predominant wish of the Scottish
nation.

The discovery of the Regalia has interested people's minds
much more strongly than I expected, and is certainly
calculated to make a pleasant and favorable impression upon
them in respect to the kingly part of the constitution. It
would be of the utmost consequence that they should be
occasionally shown to them, under proper regulations, and
for a small fee. The Sword of State is a most beautiful
piece of workmanship, a present from Pope Julius II. to
James IV. The scabbard is richly decorated with filigree
work of silver, double gilded, representing oak leaves and
acorns, executed in {p.211} a taste worthy that classical
age in which the arts revived. A draughtsman has been
employed to make sketches of these articles, in order to be
laid before his Royal Highness. The fate of these Regalia,
which his Royal Highness's goodness has thus restored to
light and honor, has on one or two occasions been singular
enough. They were, in 1652, lodged in the Castle of
Dunnottar, the seat of the Earl Marischal, by whom,
according to his ancient privilege, they were kept. The
castle was defended by George Ogilvie of Barra, who,
apprehensive of the progress which the English made in
reducing the strong places in Scotland, became anxious for
the safety of these valuable memorials. The ingenuity of his
lady had them conveyed out of the castle in a bag on a
woman's back, among some _hards_, as they are called, of
lint. They were carried to the Kirk of Kinneff, and
entrusted to the care of the clergyman, named Grainger, and
his wife, and buried under the pulpit. The Castle of
Dunnottar, though very strong and faithfully defended, was
at length under necessity of surrendering, being the last
strong place in Britain on which the royal flag floated in
those calamitous times. Ogilvie and his lady were threatened
with the utmost extremities by the Republican General
Morgan, unless they should produce the Regalia. The governor
stuck to it that he knew nothing of them, as in fact they
had been carried away without his knowledge. The lady
maintained she had given them to John Keith, second son of
the Earl Marischal, by whom, she said, they had been carried
to France. Th