burgh is all up hill and down,) and you stand on one of these bridges and look upon the houses and streets beneath, filled with a busy population, who carry on an Israelitish traffic, and who are called Scotch Jews. There are some among them who arrive at the age of one hundred and twenty, and even one hundred and fifty, for they are remarkable for their great longevity, and yet have never during their life-time visited the new town, though it is only about ten minutes' walk.

Edinburgh Castle adds much to the beauty as well as to the interest of this unique city. Among the objects of interest, exhibited here, are the regalia and Mons Meg; the former, consisting of a crown, a sceptre, and a sword of state. There is also the badge of the Order of the Garter with its star, and one of the thistle, both beautifully set with brilliants and other precious stones. The crown is placed on a scarlet-velvet cushion trimmed with gold cord and tas. sels, and all of them are dazzling to behold. They are exhibited in a small round room, with no lights, save those kept burning to display them to visiters from twelve to three every day; and though one cannot view them without great interest, as belonging to a nation unquestionably brave, and capable of governing themselves, yet to see them exhibiting a crown without a king, seems something like a burlesque upon royalty; as if in the crown and not in the head, lay the objects of adoration. These insignia of kings and queens have been recently discovered in an old iron chest in the room in which they are now shown, after having been lost to the world a hundred years or more. There is a long story attached to them which I have not time to relate. Mons Meg is a very old cannon, so called because made at Mons, in Flanders. It is formed of iron hoops battered together, and made about the year 1480, of course before America was discovered, and it is a famous one in size. I think Edinburgh should be called the Monumental City,

GREYFRIAR'S CHURCH.

25

In

for there are many monuments and statues on Calton hill, (a summit in the midst of the city,) from the top of which you have a fine view of Edinburgh and all the surrounding region. There is a very tall column surmounted with the statue of Nelson; three in the form of temples; one to Burns, one to Playfair, the mathematician, and one to Dugald Stewart. There is one also called the national Monument, intended to commemorate the heroes who fell at the battle of Waterloo. It is a fac simile of the Parthenon at Athens, but for want of funds not completed. There is also a splendid one erecting now in memory of Sir Walter Scotta sort of gothic temple, with a statue of himself within. every public square, and before every public building, there are equestrian and other statues. We visited Greyfriar's church-yard, (the oldest probably in Scotland,) where are seen the graves of George Buchanan, (the stern preceptor of James VI.,) Allen Ramsey, the Poet; Dr. Black, the chemist; Dr. Blair, the rhetorician; and last but not least, the graves of the Scottish martyrs who were slain and buried between the years 1660 and 1668, eighteen thousand in number-very many buried in one spot to whom a monument is erected. It is supposed that the ground of this burial place has been raised upon an average ten feet, and in some places eighteen, by the dust of the millions who have mouldered beneath the sods of the valley, and you descend some ten steps to the door of Greyfriar's Church, which stands in the midst of this city of the illustrious dead. It is supposed that the churchyard was once level with the green sward about it. It certainly was a most interesting spot, surrounded by the monuments, arms and escutcheons of all the ancient nobility of Scotland.

We were advised by our friends in Edinburgh to go by water to Stirling, twenty-nine miles distant, to enjoy the beautiful scenery of the Forth. Unfortunately for us it com

description as our peasant did to us. We passed, too, Coilantogle Ford, the scene of the combat between Fitz James and Roderick Dhu. The road close on the borders of the Lochs Vennacher and Achory is so narrow, that we had our wheels entangled in each of the three vehicles we passed on the way, but as we were brought safely through, it served only to give us a little excitement, which, with our awe and admiration, was in perfect keeping with the wildness of the landscape. In the afternoon we arrived at Trosachs, the romantic avenue to Loch Katrine, and here

66

High on the south huge Benvenue

Down to the Lake in masses threw

Crags, knolls and mounds, the fragments of an earlier world,
While on the north, through middle air

Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare?'

We climbed a mountain which looks down upon Glen Finlas, once a royal hunting ground, and the scene of Scott's ballad of that name. In the morning we gave preference over a little steamer of three horse power, to a little row boat, to cross Loch Katrine, which with seven rowers beats the steamer.

"The rowers then bending to the oar

With equal strokes their burden bore."

"Ellen's Isle" was pointed out to us, and "the silver strand" where stood Fitz James when first he saw Ellen Douglas, when

"The maid alarmed with hasty oar

Pushed her light shallop from the shore,
And then though safe, yet half amazed,
She paused and on the stranger gazed."

"The Goblin's Den,'' and also the birth-place of Rob Roy McGregor, was shown. After crossing Loch Katrine, we took ponies over a rugged pathway five mhes long. I think J. and H. would have been amused to see mother mounted

SAIL UP THE CLYDE.

29

on a little pony, with a long brown cloak and hood drawn over her bonnet as protection against the rain, and her gay velvet dress peeping out through the openings of the cloak. And they would have been pleased, too, with the sheep in this romantic region, the fleeces being very thick and white, while their heads, tails and legs were very black. On the side of this rugged road are the ruins of Inversnaid fort, built to keep the McGregors in awe. At Inversnaid mill, where we leave our ponies, is a small waterfall—the scenery wild and beautiful, and the scene of Wordsworth poem, the "Highland Girl," &c. Here we took a steamer to sail up and down Loch Lomond, (a lake, an expanse full of islands of every varying form,) and the pride of Scottish lakes, its northern extremity narrowing until it is lost among the retreating mountains, and gradually widening as it extends southward. Its scenery resembles our own Highlands and other portions of the Hudson. There are some beautiful country seats, and at Balloch we land. At this southern extremity of the lake are three or four fine castellated buildings on each side, and very near each other, the ruins of Balloch Castle, Castle Lenox, and Tallaquean Castle, the seat of Sir William Campbell.

We took coach to Dumbarton, about eight miles, where a steamer is in readiness to proceed up the Clyde to Glasgow. Dumbarton Rock, on which the Castle is situated, seems like those on which the Castle of Edinburgh and Stirling are built, to have been made by the Almighty for the purposes of fortification and defence, and the mind of man, or the necessity of the times, have caused them to be applied to the express purpose for which they were created. The sail up the Clyde is very beautiful, and the scenery, too, if we may judge by the glimpses we had between the showers of rain which poured almost incessantly. The river at Glasgow, Mr. B. says, when he was a child, was

so narrow and so shallow that he could wade across by holding up his kilt, and now it has been so deepened and widened that it is a port and harbor for ships of the largest class. Glasgow is altogether a commercial and manufacturing city; there is not much here to interest the stranger. We have in a handsome square in front of our hotel, a column eighty feet high, with a statue of Scott on the top, and some smaller ones scattered around. There is a fine old Cathedral, back of which is the "Bridge of Sighs," leading to a beautiful cemetery called the Necropolis of Glasgow. It is laid out on the side of a steep hill, in terraces and walks, one above the other, like an an amphitheatre, and embellished with innumerable beautiful statues and monuments; among the most conspicuous is a tall column with a statue of John Knox on the top. I will take my leave of you at Glasgow, leaving our tour through Ireland and Wales for my next. With much love for yourself and a blessing for my little ones-Farewell.