an account of the parish of Buittle, in Galloway, towards the close of last century. The rustic tradition by which the reverend Statist seeks to account for the greater agricultural skill of former ages, though amusing enough, is not without its value to us from the proof it affords of the extent to which such traces must have existed when they made so great an impression on the popular mind:-- "It is here to be observed," he remarks, "that there are few hills in this part of Galloway, where cultivation is at all practicable, that do not bear distinct marks of the plough. The depths of the furrows, too, plainly declare that this tillage has not been casual, or merely experimental, but frequent and successive. This should set both the ancient population and industry of this part of Scotland in a more favourable light than that in which they are usually held. It also affords probability to a tradition repeated by the country people to this day: that at a time when Scotland was under a Papal interdict, or sentence of cursing from the Pope, it was found that his Holiness had forgot to curse the hills, though he had commanded the land, usually arable, to yield no increase; and that while this sentence remained, the people were necessitated to seek tillage ground in places unusual and improbable!"[153] Returning, however, from this digression, to the consideration of the rude primitive implements of stone and flint, and the flint flakes out of which the latter were formed,--the flint arrow and lance heads constructed from these furnish evidence of much patient ingenuity, and exhibit considerable variety of form. It is difficult, indeed, to conceive of the process by which workmen, provided with such imperfect tools as we must presume them to have possessed, were able to split the flint into flakes, and reduce these to such regular forms. The remoteness of the period when this primitive art was superseded by the workers in metal, is proved by the incorporation of the ancient flint implements into some of the most prevalent popular superstitions of the north. The terms Elf-bolt, Elf-shot, or Elfin-arrow, are invariably applied to the flint arrow-head throughout the Scottish Lowlands. The Gaelic name, _Sciat-hee_, is completely synonymous; while in Shetland and Orkney the idea of their supernatural origin is more frequently conveyed by the term thunderbolt, invariably applied to the stone celt. This variation in the popular mode of giving expression to the idea of the supernatural origin of these primitive weapons, among the inhabitants of the mainland and the northern isles of Scotland, is worthy of passing note, from the evidence it affords of one well-defined early date to which we may refer as a known period when the stone weapons were fully as much relics of a remote past, and objects of popular wonder, as now. The name still applied