traditions  and customs of  the people, though  in  doing   so  we  digress,    perhaps,
from    the main    lines   of  the present volume. While   less    impressive  than    the mere
mystical     practices,  they    proceeded   from    the     same    source,—an  imagination
haunted by  the formidable  presence    of  Nature, by  the forms   of  lofty   mountains,
by  the mysteries   of  pine-clad   ravines,    and the murmurs of  storm-swept lochs   and
falling waters. For it  has been    truly   said    that    the Scotch  people  have    been    made
what    they    are by  Scotland;   that    the Land    has moulded and fashioned   the People;
and  that    in  their   literature,     their   religion,   their   manners,    their   history,    the
influence   is  seen    of  the physical    characteristics of  the country.
On  the birth   of  a   child—to    begin   at  the beginning—we    read    that    both    mother  and
offspring   were    “sained,”   a   lighted fir-candle  being   carried three   times   round   the
bed,    and a   Bible,  with    a   bannock or  bread   and cheese  being   placed  under   the
pillow, while   a   kind    of  blessing    was indistinctly    uttered.    Sometimes   a   fir-candle
was set on  the bed to  keep    off fairies.    If  the new-born    showed  any symptoms    of
fractiousness,  it  was supposed    to  be  a   changeling; and to  test    the truth   of  the
supposition,    the child   was placed  suddenly    before  a   peat-fire,  when,   if  really  a
changeling, it  made    its escape  by  the “lum,”  throwing    back    words   of  scorn   as  it
disappeared.    Great   was the eagerness   to  get the babe    baptised,   lest    it  should  be
stolen  by  the fairies.    If  it  died    unchristened,   it  wandered    in  woods   and solitary
places, bewailing   its miserable   fate.   In  Ramsay’s    “Gentle Shepherd,”  Bauldy,
describing  Manse   the witch,  says    of  her:—
“At midnight    hours   o’er    the kirkyard    she raves,
And howks   unchristened    weans   out of  their   graves.”It  was considered  “unlucky”   to  mention the name    of  an  “unchristened   wean;”
and even    at  baptism the name    was commonly    written on  a   slip    of  paper,  which
was handed  to  the officiating minister.   What    care    was taken   that    the consecrated
water   should  not enter   the child’s eyes!   For if  such    a   mishap  occurred,   his future
life,   wherever    he  went    and whatever    he  did,    would   be  constantly  marred  by  the
presence    of  wraiths and phantoms.   If  the babe    remained    quiet   at  the font,   it  was
supposed    to  be  destined    to  a   brief   career; and hence,  to  extort  a   cry,    the woman
who received    it  from    the father  would   handle  it  roughly or  even    pinch   it. If  a   boy
and girl    were    baptised    together,   much    anxiety was evinced lest    the girl    should
first   receive the rite.   And why?    In  the “Statistical    Account of  Scotland,”  the
minister    of  an  Orcadian    parish  says:   “Within these   last    seven   years   the minister
has been    twice   interrupted in  administering   baptism to  a   female  child   before  the
male    child,  who was baptised    immediately after.  When    the service was over,   he
was gravely told    he  had done    very    wrong,  for,    if  the female  child   was first
