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pomp, but the sentiments of the authorities of Scotland have changed since then, and his tomb has been allowed to fall into decay. When I saw it, the door was broken, and the place itself seemed to have been often used as a kennel by stray dogs; in fact it is not improbable that some of his bones may have been the sport of the canine species. It reminds one of the language of the young prophet at Ramoth Gilead, "And the dogs shall eat Jezebel." Seeing a man at work near by, probably one of the grave diggers, I asked him why the resting place of the Archbishop was allowed to remain in such a dilapidated condition. Shaking his head, he replied "It's guid eneugh for him, it's mair than he deserves." On the opposite side of the yard was once a deep pit, into which the bodies of the martyred Covenanters were thrown, and among them may have been some of the victims of Sharpe's cruelty. Now, however, the pit is carefully filled up, and a neat monument with a long inscription marks the spot. The contrast appeared striking, and seemed to suggest the expression of the Psalmist—that with regard to Sharpe, his "memorial had perished with him," while the language of the wisest man seemed equally applicable to the martyred saints, "The memory of the just is blessed."
Greyfriars church, a venerable' old building, which is associated with many stirring scenes in the history of the church, was burnt to the ground, about five years ago. It was here that the Church of Scotland, seeing that a crisis was at hand, invited her noblemen, gentlemen of rank, and members generally to assemble, to renew the covenant on the 1st of March, 1634. On that day, no less than 60,000 Presbyterians assembled in the town, and met in the Greyfriars churchyard. After solemn services and prayer, the covenant was read "out of a'fair parchment about an ell square." There was silence, still as death, when the venerable Earl of Sutherland stepped forward and put his name to it; others followed. For the convenience of the multitude it was spread on a flat gravestone. Many, in addition to their name, wrote "till death," and some signed it with their blood. The immense sheet was soon filled to the very edge. All lifted up their hands at once, and with tears and prayers, swore, in their own and their children's name, to abide by it forever. Such was the sublime spectacle that day witnessed in Scotland. It seemed like the renewing of the covenant in the days of Ezra. Scotland yet feels the influence of those covenanting days, in her present free institutions.
1 Crip fa |e jfatji.
MARY LUND IE'S GRAVE, ETC.
44 Sweet bird of Scotia's tuneful clime^
Taking for Aberdeen the steamer New Haven, a splendid boat, which performs the distance from Edinburgh to that city, (110 miles) in six hours, I was once more afloat.
In traveling I make it a point to select some person, the one usually whose countenance indicates the greatest amount of intelligence and frankness, and endeavor to form a conversational acquaintance. In this way many an hour is pleasantly and profitably employed, which otherwise might have been intolerably tedious. Finding just such a gentleman on board this steamer, we were soon deeply engaged in conversation. "Sometimes," said he, " circumstances bring antagonistic and uncongenial elements together. As the two Assemblies (the on eof the Established Church and the other of the Free Church of Scotland,) have just broken up, many of the passengers in this boat are clergymen returning home from the sessions of these two ecclesiastical bodies. That gentleman, leaning against the bulwark of the steamer, was the established minister in one of the churches in Aberdeen, till the disruption, when he came out with the Free Church, leaving Kirk and Manse behind him; and that fleshy little gentleman seated astern, is the person who stepped into his shoes and is now the incumbent of the parish. As might be expected, they are not on the most friendly terms."
A great part of the journey we were out of sight of land; when about half way, we passed the Light House on the famous " Bell Rock," or Inch Cape Rock, which, from the earliest time, has been the cause of numerous shipwrecks. The top of the rock, being visible only at low water, many years ago the good Abbots of Aberbrotheck attached to it a framework and a bell, which being rung by the waves, warned mariners to avoid the fatal reef. A tradition respecting this bell has been embodied by Southey in his ballad of '' Ralph