To daunton me, and me sae young, And guid King James's auldest son! Oh, that's the thing that never can be, For the man is unborn that'll daunton me! O set me once upon Scottish land, With my guid braid-sword into my hand, My bannet blue aboon my bree, Then shew me the man that'll daunton me! JACOBITE RELIQUES. His confessor had just withdrawn, and King James was sitting in his closet involved in gloomy and distracting reverie--immersed in thoughts which even the mild exhortations of the priest had failed to soothe, and with his eyes intently fixed on the morning sun as it rose red and unclouded in the east, he gave way to the sadness that oppressed him. Alternately he was a prey to a storm of revengeful and bitter political reflections, or to a gloomy fanaticism, which impaired the courage and lessened the magnanimity for which he had once been distinguished. On discovering that he was constantly conferring with the Jesuits upon abstruse theology, the ribald Louis spoke of him in terms of pity mingled with contempt. The French ridiculed, the Romans lampooned him, and, while the Sovereign Pontiff supplied him liberally with indulgences, the Archbishop of Rheims said ironically--"There is a pious man who hath sacrificed three crowns for a mass!" And this was all the unfortunate and mistaken James had gained, by his steady and devoted adherence to a falling faith. Bestowing a glance of undisguised hostility, not unmingled with contempt, at the follower of St. Ignatius Loyola as he withdrew, the Earl of Dunbarton, clad in his old uniform as a Scottish general, entered the apartment of the King. The green ribbon of St. Andrew was worn over his left shoulder, the star with its four silver points sparkled on his left breast, and around his neck hung the red ribbon of the Bath, and the magnificent collar of the Garter. "Good morning, my Lord Dunbarton; you look as if you had something to communicate. Any news from Flanders? Is my dutiful son-in-law still playing at long bowles with Luxembourg? Has Sir Walter Fenton arrived?" "He awaits your Majesty's pleasure in the ante-chamber." "Let him be introduced at once! Why all this etiquette?" "Because, please your Majesty, it is all that is left to remind me of other days." "True," said the King thoughtfully. "Welcome, my brave and faithful soldier!" he exclaimed, as Walter was introduced by the gentlemen in waiting, and kneeled to kiss his hand. "Welcome from Flanders, that land of fighting and fertility. My poor Sir Walter, you look very pale and emaciated." "I was wounded at Steinkirke, please your Majesty; and with those unfortunate gentlemen, my comrades, have undergone such hardships and humiliations as no imagination can conceive."