around by a walk; the views from this promenade vary at every step. The new town, a rich plain, the surrounding rocks and the town of Leith, are gradually unfolded to the eye as you proceed up the hill. The scenery soon changes from a smiling valley to a gloomy burial ground, in which stands the monument of David Hume. The city may be viewed as if traced on a map; at a distance the Frith recedes and opens into the German Sea, and its edge is bordered by the sea port town for a small distance. The singular houses of Old Town mark their bold outlines on the revolving clouds; the old edifices are contrasted with the splendid mansions of the new part of the city, and with the bright green vale of North Loch, surmounted with its aerial bridge. Nothing can present a more striking picture of the decay of human grandeur, and of the instability of worldly greatness than a view of Holyrood. The picture gallery into which I was first conducted, contains a number of antique portraits, few in a state of tolerable preservation, "A long, low and ill-proportioned gallery, hung with pictures, affirmed to be the portraits of kings who, if they ever flourished at all, (says the great enchanter of the North,) lived several hundred years before the invention of painting in oil colours, served as a vestibule to the apartments occupied by Charles Edward." From this saloon, I walked into. Queen Mary's council-chamber, in which are kept the bed of state and the royal chairs; here I was showed the anti chamber in which that savage, John Knox, insulted his Queen in his vile puritanical jargon. Near the bed-room is the passage through which Darnley and his associates rushed to murder David Rizzio—and adjoining, is the small closet in which Mary was at supper with her favourite and the countess of Argyle. The old woman who accompanied me, pointed out the spot where Rizzio fell, and said that the stains on the floor are the indelible marks of poor David's blood! The count d'Artois and his sons lived for several years in this palace, with a pension of 3000/.; notwithstanding, they were continually getting into debt, but, happily for them, insolvent debtors find an asylum from the persecution of creditors in Holyrood house. I noticed the Prie-dieu used by Monsieur, and some other specimens of Bourbon sense and devotion! Yesterday I paid a visit to the Edinburgh Castle, which appears to grow from the rock at its basis. From a view of this fortress, one would be apt to conclude that it was impregnable. "The pond'rous wall and massy bar, (says Burns,) grim rising o'er the rugged rock," have often withstoood the most formidable attacks, and during the troubles which agitated the kingdom, when Queen Mary was in captivity, the brave Kirkaldy, with a few determined associates, defended the Castle against the Regent. The buildings on the east were formerly used as royal apartments, and, in one of them, Mary was delivered of her only son, whom she had soon afterwards baptized, according to the rites of the Romish church. The castle is now used for barracks. The new buildings, erected for that purpose, are extremely well calculated for the accommodation of soldiers; but the picturesque effect of the ancient works, is much hurt by the regular appearance of the barracks. From whatever side you approach Edinburgh, the Castle appears the centre of attraction, and its frowning fragments are seen clearly in all their minuteness; in every point of view can be distinguished "Those ruin'd shrines and towers that seem The relics of a splendid dream.” To the north the shattered blocks of granite frown in sullen pomp over patches of deep green moss, which afford a relief to the eyebut on the southern side, the citadel is "cased in the unfeeling armour of old time." Whether the sky is cloudless, or the mist circle around the fissured rocks, the effect is always sublime, and the image lofty and imposing. At break of day, in the still reposing beauty of every thing around, the veteran pile seems to awake from its sleep, and look up with freshness into the almost visible air which hangs about it. When the sun sinks his golden disk below the top of Arthur's seat, the hoary brow of the citadel appears to kindle into an orb of glory; but it is at night that the Castle-rock presents the sublimest scene that nature and art ever formed. I often enjoy this prospect in a fine evening, "Quando nel ciel parean le stelle."* A view so romantic, joined to the bracing influence of the frosty atmosphere, always elevates my spirits and invigorates my nerves. The moon silvers the peaks and precipices which the mist leaves visible, and twinkles with all the vivacity of the clear cold air in a winter evening; while her beams, piercing the fleecy vapour, give it a sort of filmy transparency, resembling the finest veil of silver gauze. The beams of the Queen of Night are generally in these evenings shaded by a silvery haze, through which twinkle the countless host of" softly burning stars." I often watch the little fleecy clouds scattered over the horizon, and occasionally floating over the moon; and I recal to mind the exquisite description which Southey gives of one melting like a wreath of snow, till it was suspended "In folds of wavy silver round, and clothed * When evening star its milder lustre sheds. Politiano. LETTER VI. As cleanness requires attention and industry, the cleanness of some savages must be the work of nature; and the dirtiness of others must proceed from indolence counteracting nature. In fact, cleanness is agreeable to all, and nastiness disagreeable: no person prefers dirt; and even those who are the most accustomed to it, are pleased with a cleanly appearance in others. TO JOHN D LORD KAIMES. Edinburgh, February 1, 1819. A WANT of due attention to cleanliness may be considered as characteristic of the lower orders of the Scotch. Let a stranger walk through the narrow streets of "Auld Reekie," and he will see filth and misery combined in perfection. The poor children are dressed in tattered weeds; they go barefoot in all weathers, and a man may experience every variety of climate in one day at Edinburgh! I have already noticed the amazing height of the houses in the old town. Every story, it seems, is a complete house, occupied by a separate family; and the stair being common to them all, is generally in such a nasty condition that, (as Matt. Bramble says,) a man must tread with great circumspection to get safe with unpolluted shoes; however, (continues he) the inhabitants of Edinburgh find a particular pleasure in breathing their own atmosphere, which is always impregnated with stercoraceous effluvia! The situation of the families above, should fire break out in the lower stories, may easily be |