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without any notice at all. The human mind is naturally deaf to suggestions which are not its own; and the thoughts of others are not listened to without some very striking mark to distinguish them at once from the crowd, and not unless a strong and concentrated meaning is brought to bear on a single point. New thoughts in morality or sentiment are rare, and there is little imagery that fancy had not drawn before. Men's ideas move in a circle, and immortal truth travels over the world, invisible and transparent, save when a skilful hand, by throwing over it some sort of cloak or outer garment, gives it a temporary form and a colour soon worn out.

It is generally admitted, that men in the infancy of civilization are most poetical; yet this old, this commercial, this wealthy, and luxurious country, where cold selfishness and unblushing corruption are said to prevail to so great an extent, is highly poetical; and, the drama excepted, more originally so, within a very late period, than it ever was before; more profoundly pathetic,-more picturesquely descriptive, more wildly exuberant. Scotland alone boasts of two living poets of the first rank; (Scott and Campbell) and lost only a few years ago another of the inspired (Burns); but who, unfortunately, wrote too much in his native language, understood by few.

You can scarcely find here a person who reads at all who is not, more or less, acquainted with the poets; few who do not know many passages by heart, and repeat them with pleasure. In France, poetry was the study of persons of a highly cultivated taste, not the popular delight of all. The production of critical refinement and wit was exclusively enjoyed by those who possessed these quali

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ties. The French poetry is epigrammatic or complimentary,-lively and brilliant,-or noble and elevated; but love speaks in it the mere conventional language of gallantry, the beauties of nature are described by trite and lame epithets, repeated on all occasions,-and the bombastic is too often mistaken for the elevated style. It is, at least, a sort of theatrical elevation, which would be laughed at in real life, on those occasions where true elevation is most required, or anywhere but on the stage; a dress of ceremony, loaded with lace and embroidery, which you are in haste to throw off as soon as the show is over. Thus poetical genius, unable to bear the restraint of French verses, had recourse to prose, and made it more sentimental and impassioned than that of other nations. Disputes of all sorts are the more obstinate as the question is least understood; and, in point of literature, the French, who know only their own, decide peremptorily that it is the best,-and might repeat the words of the Duchess de la Ferté to Madame de Staal, "Tiens, mon enfant,-je ne trouve que moi qui ait toujours raison." If, as it has been said, religion is an affair of geography, and a mere boundary line décide entre Genêve et Rome, it need not be wondered at that that it should decide also in matters of taste.

The Highlander who conducted us in his boat over the lake (James Stuart), a sensible man, and of good manners, holds, jointly with his brother, a farm of upwards of 3000 acres, pasturage and rock, on the Ben-Ledi side of the lake, for which he pays L. 430 a-year; on this he keeps 1400 sheep. He could not tell how many sheep one acre of good meadow could support throughout the year, but thought six or eight too many. They give

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nothing to their sheep in winter; the snow never lies long, and few perish. The coppice wood on this land, of equal produce to the rent he pays, is reserved to the owner. This pastoral guide was in the grand costume of his country, exhibiting well turned and sinewy legs, and his features quite of the heroical cast. We found in his house, which was neat, a few books, and a very good view of the lakes, painted in oil,-not, however, by him.

Sept. 8.-Falkirk, 25 miles. We passed through Stirling, and admired the view from the Castle, situated, like that of Edinburgh, on an insulated rock, rising abruptly from the earth; the western horizon displayed the chain of mountains we have left in their best indigo dress, being a fine day;-the people in the plain around all busily employed about their harvest, hay as well as grain, which seem here to come together. Towards the east, the river Forth, which forms the great bay of Edinburgh, was seen winding about like a snake, five or six miles for every mile of strait line. Although the Forth, from this height, appeared a mere rivulet, yet the tide brings here vessels of seventy or eighty tons burden, and it has a bridge of four arches; at least Gilpin mentions that bridge, for we did not observe it. This castle had been a royal residence, and retains some remains of Gothic magnificence. Tradition points out within its extended horizon as many as twelve fields of battle, mostly between English and Scotch, in one of which Wallace commanded, and was victorious; the last, in 1745, when the army of the Pretender besieged it, No land was ever oftener drenched in blood than Scotland, invaded as it has been, in turn, by the northern barbarians, the Romans, and

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the English from the south. Heath, rocks, and pasturage have entirely given way to cultivation and inclosed fields, which have every appearance of fertility. The cottages are improving visibly, although still covered with broom and straw; and even at Stirling and Falkirk many houses are still thatched.

Sept. 10.-Duddingston. We have been here two days, detained by the hospitality of a respectable family to whom we were recommended. There is in this neighbourhood a splendid house, totally different from the Scotch castle style, and rather resembling a palace of Louis XIV.'s age,-Lord Hopetoun's. The gardens, although fine, are a little old-fashioned; the view over the Firth of Forth is magnificent. The estate of Lord Roseberry, also in this neigbourhood, is beautifully situ ated, ornamented with a profusion of large old trees; the house and gardens otherwise much neglected. I have examined, with attention, the process of the thrashing-machine. The wheat (grain and straw) passes between two large wooden fluted cylinders, by which the husk is bruised, and the grain forced out; it is then received by a third cylinder, with iron teeth like a rake, which takes hold of the straw and throws it forward, while the grain falls in the winnowing machine, whence it comes out perfectly clean. The straw is broken by the process, and rendered unfit for thatching, but is equally good for forage or litter. Two horses are sufficient to work the machine, but four are necessary for expedition. The cost is about L. 80, the interest of which, and repairs, renders the process full as expensive as the old mode, but, being very expeditious, farmers are enabled to preserve their wheat

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in the sheaf, without risk of missing a favourable market.

The lease of a farm, mostly pasturage for horned cattle, for which 25s. used to be paid, has just been renewed at L. 3, 18s., more than treble, and in general, the rent of land has risen fourfold the last forty years. It had about doubled the twenty years preceding. It is much easier to sell than to buy land at present. The wages of labourers is about 2s. or 2s. 6d., something less than in the neighbourhood of manufacturing towns.

A salmon-fishery on the Tay, which used to be leased at five guineas a-year till lately, rents now for the prodigious sum of 2000 guineas; not that there is more fish, only more industry in catching it, and greater demand. Most of it is consumed in the neighbourhood, and fresh. The herringfishery, being conducted in the open sea, and requiring no fixtures on shore, pays no rent.

Sept. 11.-Edinburgh, 9 miles. Having been here before, we seem comparatively at home. A number of letters we found here have given us great pleasure. The invention of the post is one of the wonders of civilization, which I find myself now and then admiring, as if it was a new blessing.

Sept. 14. We had yesterday a very pleasant excursion from Roslin Castle to Frankfield, along the Esk-the friends at whose house we were engaged to dine, had the goodness to be our guides. The ruins of Roslin Castle have nothing in them very remarkable; but the Gothic chapel near them is very beautiful. The walk from thence to Frankfield, for nearly five miles, is as romantic as any thing we have seen. The Esk is a rapid little stream of clear water, running between two rocky