content with six.  But even in things of imaginary importance, the Druids took care, that while they conceded but little to their king, no one should be nearly equal to them in dignity.  Persons of the highest rank were only allowed to wear four colours, and the inferior grades proportionally fewer.  The Druids wore long garments reaching to their heels; all others had them so short that they scarcely covered the knees.  Their hair was kept short, the rest of the nation wore theirs long; while they suffered their beard to grow, others were obliged to submit their chins to the knife.  They carried in their hand a white staff, called “Slatan drui eachd,” or magic wand, and hung around their necks an amulet in the form of an egg, set in gold.  The object of these distinctions appears to have been, that no one might fail to recognise a Druid at the first glance, and pay him the respect which his office was supposed to demand.

* * * * *

THE SKETCH-BOOK.

RECOLLECTIONS OF A WANDERER.

The Chase.

...."It is past eleven,” answered Lieutenant ——­, as he descended the companion way, after giving some orders on deck; “a regular gale this, by Jupiter; but we are spinning away ten knots, off and on.”

I stirred the fire in the cabouse, which threw a flickering light around the cabin,—­now revealing the half-concealed face of a sick or sleeping passenger in the larboard tier of berths, then sinking as suddenly into gloom.  The Lieutenant, Major F——­, and myself, barring the boy, were the only souls astir aft below hatches.  We were soon engaged in the agreeable discussion of grog and small talk.  Nothing interrupted our conversation.  The heavy lashing and rush of the weltering sea on the quarters—­the groaning and straining of the vessel—­the regular strokes of the engines which boomed indistinctly yet surely on the ear, were alike unattended to.  Impelled by that mighty power, we almost bid defiance to wind and weather.  As the glass circulated, the Lieutenant amused us in his own dry way with some early recollections of service; and knowing that the Major had been quartered in the Emerald Isle in “Ninety-eight,” I pressed him to give us some memento of that eventful period.  “Come F——­, spin us a yarn, as our topmen used to say round the galley-fire, during the night-watch,” added the Lieutenant.

“Now you mention ninety-eight,” he replied, “I remember a ’beautiful bit of a story,’ as Pat would say, which occurred that autumn; its hero was a brother officer, a particular friend of mine—­it may serve to keep you awake.”

Here it is: