The mind of Wallace was imbued with the most exalted ideas of independence; and the stern and inflexible spirit with which he guarded his own and his country’s honour, could only be equalled by the scrupulous delicacy he exercised towards the feelings of others. Loving freedom for her own sake, he considered her sanctuary, wherever placed, as too sacred to be violated. Among the many proofs of this elevation of mind, the following may be mentioned:--On the surrender of de Longueville, the high-spirited Frenchman was anxious to know the name and the character of his conqueror. On the name of Wallace being announced to him, he fell on his knees, and thanked God that so worthy an enemy had been his victor; and, according to the custom of the age, he tendered his service, along with his sword. “Service from you, Sir Thomas,” said the gallant Scot, with an accent of kind familiarity, “I cannot accept; your friendship is what I desire.” On another occasion, in the heat of an engagement, having, as he conceived, given orders to Sir John Graham in a manner too peremptory--after the victory had been secured, he came up to his brave friend, and surprised him with a humble apology for any thing like harshness he might have displayed in his manner of expressing himself. Graham, however, was quite unconscious of hearing any thing that he had reason to take amiss; and expressed a hope that he would always act towards him and others in the same manner, when the interest of their country was at stake.