300 REVIEWS— THE BALLADS OE SCOTLAND. 



edly composed previous to the Reformation ; and in many of tliem we 

 find traces of the prevailing mode of vporship. Thus there are frequent 

 references to the mass, to the virtue of holy water, and to the power 

 of bells ; but, on the whole, the allusions to religious ceremonies are 

 less numerous than we might expect.'* In regard to this it is curious 

 to note how ineradicable has been the impression produced on the 

 national mind by the institutions of the ancient faith, in spite of the 

 vigorous crusade of ecclesiastical discipline and public opinion con- 

 joined, for upwards of three centuries. Pasch, Yule, Halloween, 

 Beltane, Rude- day, Whit-Sunday, Candlemas, and various other 

 rustic anniversaries, all survive as relics of the ancient faith, and are 

 mostly commemorated still, by an unpremeditated but universal popu- 

 lar consent, according to the old style. Such a faithful popular 

 tradition, in spite alike of modern creeds and almanacs, gives addi- 

 tional confirmation to the authenticity of those ancient ballad poems, 

 transmitted with like fidelity through so many generations. It is 

 quite in accordance with this tenacity of ecclesiastical traditions, that 

 the oral poetry of the Scottish people should likewise " disclose a vast 

 extent of popular superstition. In ' Tamlane ' and ' True Thomas,' 

 we have the apparition of the Queen of Elfin, that mysterious feuda- 

 tory of Hell, whose temptations and delusions were made matter of 

 evidence before the Presbyteries, long after the downfall of the Church 

 of Rome, — who was supposed to have carried away from the field of 

 Flodden our own valiant King James, not slain, but wounded, as 

 Arthur had been conveyed by fairy hands to the vale of Avalon. Then 

 there are the apparitions of the dead, whose repose in the grave has 

 been disturbed, either because they have still to expiate some deadly 

 sin, or because they have to recover their troth, or because they are 

 disquieted by the voice of heavy mourning. Most beautiful, indeed, 

 and pathetic is the manner in which these visitations are narrated. 

 The 'Wife of Usher's Well/ in her agony for the loss of her sons, 

 rebels against the chastisement of God, and lo — 



It fell about the Martinmas, 



When nights are lang aud mirk, 

 The Carline wife's three sons cam' hame, 



And their hats were o' the birk. 



It neither grew in syke nor ditch, 



Nor yet in ony sheugh ; 

 But at the gates o' Paradise, 



That birk grew fair eneugh." 



