those early days there was a prevailing belief in Scotland, and, in
fact, the opinion still lingers there, that certain persons among the
old Highlanders had what they called the gift of the second
sight--that is, the power of foreseeing futurity in some mysterious
and incomprehensible way. An incident is related in the old histories
connected with Charles's infancy, which is a good illustration of
this. While King James was preparing to leave Scotland, to take
possession of the English throne, an old Highland laird came to bid
him farewell. He gave the king many parting counsels and good wishes,
and then, overlooking the older brother, Prince Henry, he went
directly to Charles, who was then about two years old, and bowed
before him, and kissed his hand with the greatest appearance of regard
and veneration. King James undertook to correct his supposed mistake,
by telling him that that was his second son, and that the other boy
was the heir to the crown. "No," said the old laird, "I am not
mistaken. I know to whom I am speaking. This child, now in his nurse's
arms, will be greater than his brother. This is the one who is to
convey his father's name and titles to succeeding generations." This
prediction was fulfilled; for the robust and healthy Henry died, and
the feeble and sickly-looking Charles lived and grew, and succeeded,
in due time, to his father's throne.

Now inasmuch as, at the time when this prediction was uttered, there
seemed to be little human probability of its fulfillment, it attracted
attention; its unexpected and startling character made every one
notice and remember it; and the old laird was at once an object of
interest and wonder. It is probable that this desire to excite the
admiration of the auditors, mingled insensibly with a sort of poetic
enthusiasm, which a rude age and mountainous scenery always inspire,
was the origin of a great many such predictions as these; and then, in
the end, those only which turned out to be true were remembered, while
the rest were forgotten; and this was the way that the reality of such
prophetic powers came to be generally believed in.

Feeble and uncertain of life as the infant Charles appeared to be,
they conferred upon him, as is customary in the case of young princes,
various titles of nobility. He was made a duke, a marquis, an earl,
and a baron, before he had strength enough to lift up his head in his
nurse's arms. His title as duke was Duke of Albany; and a