Among the illustrative vignettes prefixed to a late edition of the author of “Waverley’s” works, a view of Craig Crook Castle, near Edinburgh, is given for Tully-Veolan; and, to complete the _vraisemblance_, several bears have been added to the scene. It is only necessary to assert, in general, that these bears only exist in the imagination of the artist, and that no place has less resemblance to the Tully-Veolan of “Waverley” than Craig Crook, which is a small _single_ house, in a bare situation, more like the mansion of poor Laird Dumbiedykes than the castle of a powerful feudal baron. THE BODACH GLAS. The original of the _Bodach Glas_, whose appearance proved so portentous to the family of the Mac-Ivors, may probably be traced to a legend current in the ancient family of Maclaine of Lochbuy, in the island of Mull, noticed by Sir Walter Scott in a note to his “Lady of the Lake.”[9] The popular tradition is, that whenever any person descended of that family is near death, the spirit of one of them, who was slain in battle, gives notice of the approaching event. There is this difference between the _Bodach Glas_ and him, that the former appeared on these solemn occasions only to the chief of the house of Mac-Ivor, whereas the latter never misses an individual descended of the family of Lochbuy, however obscure, or in whatever part of the world he may be. The manner of his showing himself is sometimes different, but he uniformly appears on horseback. Both the horse and himself seem to be of a very diminutive size, particularly the head of the rider, from which circumstance he goes under the appellation of “_Eoghan a chinn bhig_,” or “_Hugh of the little head_.” Sometimes he is heard riding furiously round the house where the person is about to die, with an extraordinary noise, like the rattling of iron chains. At other times he is discovered with his horse’s head nearly thrust in at a door or window; and, on such occasions, whenever observed, he gallops off in the manner already described, the hooves of his steed striking fire from the flinty rocks. The effects of such a visit on the inmates of the dwelling may be easily conceived when it is considered that it was viewed as an infallible prognostication of approaching death—an event at which the stoutest heart must recoil, when the certainty is placed before him of his hours being numbered. Like his brother spirits, he seems destined to perform his melancholy rounds amidst nocturnal darkness, the horrors of which have a natural tendency to increase the consternation of a scene in itself sufficiently appalling.