his dog upon the platform, and called him to his aid; but Macpherson, with admirable presence of mind, snatched up his own plaid, which lay near, and threw it over the butcher, thus misleading the instinct of his canine adversary. The dog darted with fury upon the plaid, and terribly lacerated his master's thigh. In the mean time, James Macpherson had been carried out by Peter Brown, and was soon joined by Donald Macpherson, who was quickly covered by some friendly spectator with a hat and great coat. The magistrates ordered webs from the shops to be drawn across the Gallowgate; but Donald Macpherson cut them asunder with his sword, and James, the late prisoner, got off on horseback. He was, some time after, betrayed by a man of his own tribe: and was the last person executed at Banff, previous to the abolition of hereditable jurisdiction. He was an admirable performer on the violin; and his talent for composition is still evidenced by Macpherson's Rant, and Macpherson's Pibroch. He performed these tunes at the foot of the fatal tree; and then asked if he had any friend in the crowd to whom a last gift of his instrument would be acceptable. No man had hardihood to claim friendship with a delinquent, in whose crimes the acknowledgment might implicate an avowed acquaintance. As no friend came forward, Macpherson said, the companion of so many gloomy hours should perish with him; and, breaking the violin over his knees, he threw away the fragments. Donald Macpherson picked up the neck of the violin, which to this day is preserved, as a valuable memento, by the family of Cluny, chieftain of the Macphersons." Burns's magnificent death-song, _McPherson's Farewell_, is too well known to require more than an allusion. I've spent my time in rioting, Debauch'd my health and strength; I've pillag'd, plunder'd, murdered, But now, alas! at length, I'm brought to punishment direct, 5 Pale death draws near to me; This end I never did project, To hang upon a tree. To hang upon a tree! a tree! That curs'd unhappy death! 10 Like to a wolf to worried be, And choaked in the breath. My very heart would surely break, When this I think upon, Did not my courage singular 15 Bid pensive thoughts begone. No man on earth that draweth breath, More courage had than I; I dar'd my foes unto their face, And would not from them fly. 20 This grandeur stout, I did keep out, Like Hector, manfullie: Then wonder one like me, so stout, Should hang upon a tree!