hearing this discourse, I ceased to wonder that the Free Church of Scotland should have contributed so largely to the cause of benevolence, when that cause was pleaded by so eloquent and powerful an advocate. The plates for collections are placed at the doors, and persons in passing either in or out deposit in them their contributions. What is given in this way becomes strictly a voluntary offering.

In the afternoon I went to hear Dr. Candlish; but on arriving at his church, I learned that he was not to preach there, but in Holyrood Free Church, which is a great distance from his own. Nothing discouraged, however, I determined to follow him. When I got to the church, I found that the preliminary exercises being over, he was about to commence his sermon. He is quite a small man, perhaps near fifty, but full of energy and life. His voice is a little thick, and, to one unaccustomed to it, appears indistinct. He reads closely. He took for his text Exodus i. 6: "And Joseph died, and all his brethren, and all that generation." In commencing, he compared human life to the passing away of the seasons. Only there was this difference-in the successive generations of the human race there is no wide gap

His style

like that of winter. Imperceptibly and by slow degrees, the actors in human life are changedthough generations come and go, the ocean of the world is always full. What a commentary are these words on the history of which they are the striking close! It was previously a busy scene, and now, as by a magic spell, the whole multitude are gone. What an obituary-how comprehensive, and yet how concise! He then took up the separate parts of the text: 1. And Joseph died; 2. and all his brethren; 3. and all that generation— which he discussed with great ability. is entirely different from Dr. Guthrie's, though each has his own peculiar excellence. Guthrie is warm, lively, and off-hand-Candlish sententious, concise, and fond of antithesis. The former seems to appeal most to the feelings, the latter to the reasoning faculties; though in persons differently constituted, each would. perhaps equally reach the heart. I give this merely as a hastily formed opinion, as, of course, hearing one sermon from each is scarcely sufficient on which to found a mature judgment.

Bolyrood.

"With awe-struck thought and pitying tears,

I view that noble, stately dome,
Where Scotia's kings of other years,

Famed heroes! had their royal home."

HOLYROOD Palace, the ancient residence of Scottish royalty, is a handsome edifice, of quadrangular form, with a central court about ninety feet square. From time to time it has been rebuilt, remodeled, and repaired, until no part retains its original aspect, except the wing in which are the apartments known as Queen Mary's.

In going through it, the first room we were shown was the portrait gallery, containing like. nesses of the Scottish sovereigns from the earliest period. In another room we were shown the chair of state, made for Queen Mary and Darnley, a double seat with large cushions, and of a very ancient fashion. The ceilings of many of the rooms are made are made of finely panneled oak, on which are painted the arms of the Stuarts. In Queen Mary's bedroom we were shown the identi

cal bed which she used, and which now, though perfectly undisturbed, is falling rapidly to decay. It is very short, and has a canopy over it, with curious tassels. It certainly had the most antiquated appearance of any piece of furniture I ever saw. In this room is still shown her baby-basket, in which were kept the clothes of James VI.; also, her work-box, the wood of which is as sound apparently as it ever was. This she brought with her from France. In it is a miniature likeness of herself, which is touchingly beautiful. The person who attended us through the palace drew aside a curtain and showed us the secret stair up which Darnley and his men came when in pursuit of Rizzio. The spot where Rizzio was seized, and even the blood stains on the floor, are yet pointed out. By the way, these spots of blood were the subject of a good story, which, at the risk of being tedious, I must narrate. It happened that on one occasion the old woman who takes charge of these apartments was showing them to a London cockney, who was the traveling agent for a celebrated article of scouring drops. "These stains," said the old lady, pointing to the floor, "nothing will remove-there they have been for two hundred and

fifty years and there they will remain while the floor is left standing." "Two hundred and fifty years, ma'am, and nothing take them out? Why, if they had been five hundred, I have something in my pocket will take them out in five minutes.” Accordingly, wetting one end of his handkerchief with the all-deterging specific, he began to rub away on the planks, without heeding the remonstrances of the old lady. She uplifted her voice and screamed as loudly as Queen Mary herself could have done when the deed was in the act of being perpetrated. A gentleman, who happened to be promenading in a neighboring gallery, hearing the screams, rushed in, and found the commercial traveler on his knees, scrubbing like a housemaid, while the old lady, by pulling at his skirts, was endeavoring to divert him from his sacrilegious purpose. It was no easy matter to explain to the commercial man that there were stains in the world which ought to remain indelible, on account of the historical associations with which they were connected. He went away muttering that he had "always heard the Scots were a nasty people, but he had no idea they carried it so far as to choose to have the floors of their