averley
coat-of-arms. It was addressed, with great formality, 'To Cosmo Comyne
Bradwardine, Esq., of Bradwardine, at his principal mansion of
Tully-Veolan, in Perthshire, North Britain. These--By the hands of
Captain Edward Waverley, nephew of Sir Everard Waverley, of
Waverley-Honour, Bart.'

The gentleman to whom this enormous greeting was addressed, of whom we
shall have more to say in the sequel, had been in arms for the exiled
family of Stuart in the year 1715, and was made prisoner at Preston in
Lancashire. He was of a very ancient family, and somewhat embarrassed
fortune; a scholar, according to the scholarship of Scotchmen, that is,
his learning was more diffuse than accurate, and he was rather a reader
than a grammarian. Of his zeal for the classic authors he is said to have
given an uncommon instance. On the road between Preston and London, he
made his escape from his guards; but being afterwards found loitering
near the place where they had lodged the former night, he was recognised,
and again arrested. His companions, and even his escort, were surprised
at his infatuation, and could not help inquiring, why, being once at
liberty, he had not made the best of his way to a place of safety; to
which he replied, that he had intended to do so, but, in good faith, he
had returned to seek his Titus Livius, which he had forgot in the hurry
of his escape. [Footnote: See Note 3.] The simplicity of this anecdote
struck the gentleman, who, as we before observed, had managed the defence
of some of those unfortunate persons, at the expense of Sir Everard, and
perhaps some others of the party. He was, besides, himself a special
admirer of the old Patavinian, and though probably his own zeal might not
have carried him such extravagant lengths, even to recover the edition of
Sweynheim and Pannartz (supposed to be the princeps), he did not the less
estimate the devotion of the North Briton, and in consequence exerted
himself to so much purpose to remove and soften evidence, detect legal
flaws, et cetera, that he accomplished the final discharge and
deliverance of Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine from certain very awkward
consequences of a plea before our sovereign lord the king in Westminster.

The Baron of Bradwardine, for he was generally so called in Scotland
(although his intimates, from his place of residence, used to denominate
him Tully-Veolan, or more familiarly, Tully), no sooner stood rectus in
curia than he posted down to p