The mouldering ruins of Roslin Castle, with its tremendous triple tier of vaults, stand on a peninsular rock, overhanging the picturesque glen of the Esk. The origin of this castle is involved in obscurity, but it was long the property of the proud family of the St. Clairs, Earls of Caithness and Orkney. The upper part of the Castle is all a ruin, but the vaults beneath remain in their original perfection. These are divided off into different cells, each of which is arched separately. These cells on the side of the Esk are above ground, and have small round apertures in the walls, probably for the purpose of discharging arrows.

A little way from the ruins of the castle is the chapel of Roslin, which is one of the most entire and exquisitely decorated specimens of ecclesiastical architecture in Scotland. It was founded in 1446, by William St. Clair, Lord of Roslin. As we were entering the sacred enclosure, we met a tall, awkward looking fellow, whose business it is to show the chapel to strangers. He led the way through the venerable edifice, armed with a slim pole of considerable length, to point out the more elevated objects, describing, as he proceeded, the most interesting ones, in a sing-song,

preaching kind of voice, which sounded very ridiculous, and appeared as though the whole thing was delivered by rote. Queen Victoria visited this chapel last summer, and I had the curiosity to ask this accomplished Cicerone as to the manner in which he did the honors on that occasion. He assured me that he went through precisely the same routine with her Majesty that he had with us, and that he found it impossible to get through with his task correctly in any other voice.

Every one, on entering this chapel, must be struck with the profusion and variety of its ornaments, the magnificence of its lofty roof, which is a vast semicircular arch in five compartments, formed by four large ribs springing from the walls, that rest on the arches of the side-aisles below. These compartments are profusely and richly ornamented with a great variety of foliage. The upper part of the building is lighted by five arched windows on each side, between which are canopies and brackets, supposed to have been for the twelve Apostles. In the east end is a very lofty arched window, below which is an elegant niche, probably intended for the Virgin Mary. The stately roof of the chapel is supported by sixteen clustered Gothic

columns, seven at each side, and two at the east end. All the arches of the side-aisles are elaborately ornamented with curious mouldings. The capitals of the columns and the friezes are decorated with foliage, and a great variety of emblematic figures, principally consisting of scriptural representations. At the base of one of the pillars there is a large flat stone, which, it is supposed, covers ten Barons of Roslin, who were buried in full armor, and all of whom died before 1690. According to an ancient tradition, this chapel was supernaturally illuminated on the death of any member of the family of Roslin. Walter Scott alludes to this in his exquisite ballad of Rosabelle. This lady, according to the ballad, while attempting to cross the Frith, in the night, was drowned :

"O'er Roslin all that dreary night

A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam;
'Twas broader than the watch-fire light,
And redder than the bright moonbeam.
It glared on Roslin's castled rock,

It ruddied all the copsewood glen;
"Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak,

And seen from cavern'd Hawthornden.
Seem'd all on fire that chapel proud,
Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffined lie;
Each baron, for a sable shroud,

Sheathed in his iron panoply.

Blazed battlement and pinnet high

Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair

So still they blaze when fate is nigh

The lordly line of high St. Clair.”

At the south-east corner of the chapel, immediately under the high altar, is a flight of twentyfour steps, much broken, which conducts to a subterraneous chapel, supposed to have been used as a vestry.

and,

A kind of melancholy steals over one while wandering amid ruins like these. Every chiseled column and elaborately carved capital must have been the result of patient industry and untiring genius. The whole building was probably the labor of many years for hundreds of men, though the work of their hands remains, yet who can tell aught of the workmen? When completed, thousands thronged these now deserted aislesgeneration of worshipers succeeded generationbut now, though the temple where they congregated remains, they have become as the clods of the valley. The hope of immortality is the only relief to this dark picture; and though their religion was one of superstition and ignorance, yet we are not without hope that some of them may have found the way of life, and are now rejoicing

in that temple "not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."

After satisfying our curiosity among these interesting scenes, we turned our steps once more toward Loanhead, where we arrived about six o'clock, somewhat fatigued with our long walk, but ready to do justice to a substantial meal which we found awaiting us. After enjoying for a short time the Christian intercourse of the clergyman's family, we bade him farewell, and, mounting once more the top of the coach, were soon whirled into Edinburgh. Thus ended my pleasant ramble through the picturesque dell of the river Esk-a ramble which included much fine scenery, some of which, though rough and rugged, was, at the same time, as beautiful and romantic as any I ever beheld.