roused him at once, and he sprung to his
feet; the despondency, shame, doubt, anxiety which like lead had weighed
down his heart before, dissolved before the glad, buoyant spirit, the
bright, free, glorious hopes, and dreams, and visions which are known to
youth alone.

Stentorian and simultaneous was the eager shout that hailed the
appearance of the newly-anointed king, as he paused a moment on the
great stone staircase, leading from the principal doors of the abbey to
the abbey yard. For miles round, particularly from those counties which
were but thinly garrisoned by the English, the loyal Scots had poured at
the first rumor of the Bruce's rising, and now a rejoicing multitude
welcomed him with one voice, the execrations against their foes
forgotten in this outpouring of the heart towards their native prince.

Inspired by this heartfelt greeting, the king advanced a few paces on
the stone terrace, and raised his right hand, as if about to speak; on
the instant every shout was hushed, and silence fell upon that eager
multitude, as deep and voiceless as if some mighty magic chained them
spell-bound where they stood, their very breathing hushed, fearful to
lose one word.

Many an aged eye grew dim with tears, as it rested on the fair and
graceful form, the beautifully expressive face of him, who, with
eloquent fervor, referred to the ancient glory of their country; tears
of joy, for they felt they looked upon the good genius of their land,
that she was raised from her dejected stupor, to sleep a slave no more;
and the middle-aged and the young, with deafening shouts and eager
gestures, swore to give him the crown, the kingdom he demanded, free,
unshackled as his ancestors had borne them, or die around him to a man;
and blessings and prayers in woman's gentler voice mingled with the
swelling cry, and little children caught the Bruce's name and bade "God
bless him," and others, equally impetuous shouted "Bruce and freedom!"

"Love, obey, follow me, for Scotland's sake; noble or gentle, let all
private feud be forgotten in this one great struggle for liberty or
death. Thus," he concluded, "united and faithful, the name of Wallace on
each lip, the weal of Scotland in each heart, her mountains our shield,
her freedom our sword, shall we, can we fail? No! no! Scotland shall be
free, or her green sod and mountain flowers shall bloom upon our graves.
I have no crown save that which Scotland gives, no kingdom save what
your