The Author of Waverley has heard it objected to this novel, that, in the character of Callum Beg and in the account given by the Baron of Bradwardine of the petty trespasses of the Highlanders upon trifling articles of property, he has borne hard, and unjustly so, upon their national character. Nothing could be farther from his wish or intention. The character of Callum Beg is that of a spirit naturally turned to daring evil, and determined, by the circumstances of his situation, to a particular species of mischief. Those who have perused the curious Letters from the Highlands, published about 1726, will find instances of such atrocious characters which fell under the writer's own observation, though it would be most unjust to consider such villains as representatives of the Highlanders of that period, any more than the murderers of Marr and Williamson can be supposed to represent the English of the present day. As for the plunder supposed to have been picked up by some of the insurgents in 1745, it must be remembered that, although the way of that unfortunate little army was neither marked by devastation nor bloodshed, but, on the contrary, was orderly and quiet in a most wonderful degree, yet no army marches through a country in a hostile manner without committing some depredations; and several, to the extent and of the nature jocularly imputed to them by the Baron, were really laid to the charge of the Highland insurgents; for which many traditions, and particularly one respecting the Knight of the Mirror, may be quoted as good evidence. [Footnote: A homely metrical narrative of the events of the period, which contains some striking particulars, and is still a great favourite with the lower classes, gives a very correct statement of the behaviour of the mountaineers respecting this same military license; and, as the verses are little known, and contain some good sense, we venture to insert them.] THE AUTHOR'S ADDRESS TO ALL IN GENERAL Now, gentle readers, I have let you ken My very thoughts, from heart and pen, 'Tis needless for to conten' Or yet controule, For there's not a word o't I can men'; So ye must thole. For on both sides some were not good; I saw them murd'ring in cold blood, Not the gentlemen, but wild and rude, The baser sort, Who to the wounded had no mood But murd'ring sport! Ev'n both at Preston and Falkirk, That fatal night ere it grew mirk, Piercing the wounded with their durk, Caused many cry! Such pity's shown from Savage and Turk As peace to die. A woe be to such hot zeal, To smite the wounded on the fiell! It's just they got such groats in kail, Who do the same. It only teaches crueltys real To them again.