No Celtic legend preserves an equally distinct memorial of the introduction of the metallurgic arts among the ancient colonists of the British Isles. Nevertheless the Scottish Highlanders have their native Ἡφαιστος also, personified, like the Teutonic Weland, in many romantic legends. The fame of Luno, the son of Leven, who made the swords of Fingal and his heroes, is preserved in old traditional poems, which figure him as a wild savage clad in a mantle of black hide, and with an apron of similar materials. The additional features of the picture furnish no inapt personification of the classic Vulcan. He is described as lame; going on one leg, with a staff in his hand, yet remarkable for his swiftness.[262] Dr. Macculloch, in demonstrating the affinity between the Celtic and Teutonic superstitions and the Oriental and classic mythology, remarks,--"Fingal is not an absolute original himself. His sword is the sword of sharpness of the Edda, made by Velent or Weyland, the hyperborean Vulcan. It is the wonderful sword Skoffnung, and also Balmung, and it is the Mimmung in Ettin Langshanks. It is equally Tyrsing, the fairy blade of Suafurlami; and it is also the sword which Jack begged of the giant. It is the sword Durandal, with which Orlando cuts rocks in two; and it is Escalibor, the sword of Arthur."[263] Thus common as the metal from which it is forged is some form or other of the mythic legend which commemorates the restoration of old Tubal-Cain's weapon of war. Still the venerable Teutonic myth does not appear to have been preserved by the Scottish medieval chroniclers or romancers, unless in some extremely modified form, or it could hardly have escaped the notice of Dunbar, in his satire of "The Fenyeit Freir of Tungland." The incident which gave rise to this whimsical effusion of our great Scottish poet against the Italian charlatan occurred in 1507, (a year famous for the introduction of the printingpress into Scotland,) and is thus described by Bishop Lesley.[264] Referring to an embassy sent to France in that year, he remarks,--"This tyme thair wes ane Italiane with the king, quha wes maid Abbott of Tungland, and wes of curious ingyne. He causet the king believe that he, be multiplyinge and utheris his inventions, wold make fine golde of uther mettall, quhilk science he callit the quintassence; quhairupon the king maid greit cost, bot all in vaine. This Abbott tuik in hand to flie with wingis, and to be in Fraunce befoir the saidis ambassadouris; and to that effect he causet mak ane pair of wingis of fedderis, quhilkis beand fessinit apoun him, he flew of the Castell wall of Striveling, bot shortlie he fell to the ground and brak his thee bane. Bot the wyt thairof he ascryvit to that thair was sum hen fedderis in the wingis, quhilk yarnit and covet the mydding and not the skyis." The Scottish historian compares him to "ane king of Yngland callit Bladud." The poet's similes are still more pertinent; though