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RUMBLING BRIDGE.-CAULDRON LINN.

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trees they support, are seen to vibrate with the shock of the waters by which they are undermined. An old gnarled oak, which projects with fearful inclination over the torrent, was often employed in the author's day as a test of courage; the aspirant to that distinction climbing the trunk, and proceeding, as he best might, to a limb which suspended him directly over the chasm. If he could here find himself sufficiently at ease to cut his initials on the bark, as a memorial of the feat, he was reported as a youth of some just pretensions to courage. It was, at all events, a feat quite as perilous as that of climbing an aiguille in the Alps, and with death in as hideous a form beneath him. To this tree, says tradition, a poor suicide retired many years ago to commit the last act of despair, and was found suspended over the gulf, where no human hand could recover the body.

About a mile lower down the river is the Cauldron Linn, of which the annexed engraving will furnish a vivid picture. In this, however, only a part of the phenomena of the Linn could be represented. The characteristic features of this waterfall are the series of caldrons into which the whole volume of the river is precipitated, churned into foam, and finally discharged over the rocks. These caldrons vary in dimensions, and are continually changing in shape by the boiling impetuosity with which their contents are swallowed up, and again vomited forth in masses of foam. To the spectator the appearance is exactly like that of a caldron in a state of violent ebullition, but with a fierce gyratory motion, like that of some rabid monster plunged suddenly into a pit, and howling and raging for an outlet. This peculiar motion, as we have often experienced, is apt to produce vertigo, and is therefore unsafe to the stranger who contemplates it beyond a very short time.* Volumes of spray are continually hovering over the falls; and, unconnected with the river, the scene reminds one of those volcanic scenes, where the incumbent water is kept boiling over subterraneous fires. Though gradually lowered in its channel by the continued action of the water, the fall is still, and will long continue, one of the most remarkable in Scotland. It is the favourite resort of summer parties, who, in the course of the same day, can enjoy the scenery of Castle Campbell, and these beautiful falls of the Devon. On a flat rock of large dimensions, and rising like an islet in the basin under the fall, the repast is generally spread. There the party, squatted like pious moslem at a feast, completely sheltered from the sun, fanned by the breath of the cascade, and filling up the intervals

* With the Cauldron Linn, as with too many other scenes where Nature exhibits herself in beauty and power, the death of a promising youth, whose adventurous spirit led him beyond the bounds of prudence, has associated another melancholy story.

with anecdote and native song, may enjoy those delightful hours which, in after life, haunt the mind like a dream, and, in the midst of the brighter but more studied enjoyments of the great world, conjure back the simplicity of rural life on the banks of the Devon.

We now enter the county of Fife, where the royal burgh of Dunfermline recalls the splendour of past days, and furnishes subjects innumerable for observation and reflection. But its claims on the patriot, the historian, and the antiquary, are so fully admitted and known, that we shall confine ourselves chiefly to the subject chosen for illustration. Here, when the palace of the sovereign, and the rich pile of the lord abbot were thronged with pilgrims and courtiers-with the ensigns of religion and the pomp and circumstance of royalty-when the king, in proof of his state, "sate in Dunfermline toun," as the minstrel has described, " drinking the bluid-red wine"-when the abbot, uniting the splendour of things spiritual and temporal, with the chanting of mass and the chiming of bells, followed the royal example and conjoined the more substantial cheer of the refectory - Dunfermline must, indeed, have presented a scene of mixed royalty and religion which might have yielded materials not unworthy of our greatest dramatist. But the scene is changed; the royal cavalcade and the religious procession have long vanished from its streets; the grass waves over the hearth of kings; Desolation has shaken her rod over the crumbling shrine; under our feet is deposited the dust of many generations—those who served at the altar, who wielded the affairs of state, or lifted the battle-axe in the cause of BRUCE. But, amidst all the changes of times and circumstances with which this ancient town has been visited, one magnificent landmark is still left, and, within its hallowed enclosure are the thrice consecrated ashes of Bruce. Here the patriot will feel a warmer devotion to the liberty of his country, and, at the tomb of her greatest hero and wisest king, breathe a prayer for her prosperity.

The Abbey of Dunfermline was of the Benedictine order, founded by Malcolm Canmore, finished by Alexander the Fierce, and invested with additional sanctity as the sepulchre of the Scottish kings, among whom was the heroic monarch above named. After the Reformation, this interesting fact was only traditional; for, although a splendid mausoleum had enclosed the spot, not a

This county lies chiefly on the eastern coast of Scotland, forming a peninsula, with the Frith of Forth on the south, and the Frith of Tay on the north. The extreme length of the county is upwards of sixty miles and its breadth, from Kinghorn to Newburgh, about thirty miles. It is fertile, highly cultivated, populous, interspersed with many thriving towns and villages, and richly embellished with sixty-four seats of the nobility and landed proprietors, who form a numerous and powerful aristocracy. The population, according to the latest report, amounts to one hundred and thirty thousand.

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ROBERT BRUCE.-DUNFERMLINE ABBEY.

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vestige of it now remained, and no investigation took place to solve the doubt. At length, in making preparations for the foundation of a new church in 1818, the workmen, on digging under the ruins of the ancient choir, came to a substructure of cemented stone, which was evidently the tomb of some person of distinction. Curiosity was thus excited, the workmen proceeded, and on opening the vault, found in it the decayed fragments of a coffin, in the midst of which lay a skeleton wrapt in lead. This was unrolled, and around the head was found a circlet of lead placed in form of a crown. Closer examination showed that the body had been originally shrouded in cloth of gold, from the shreds of that material which still remained. These circumstances excited the greatest attention, particularly as the grave was immediately in front of the high altar, and rendered it probable that such was the last resting-place of the immortal Bruce. The truth of this was soon confirmed by the discovery of a small coffin-plate among the rubbish, bearing these three words-ROBERTUS. SCOTORUM. REX. Having obtained this conclusive evidence, the tomb was shut up, and notice sent to the Barons of Exchequer. A day being then fixed for the imposing ceremony, the tomb was re-opened in their presence, and in that of a great many persons of rank, as well as of literary and scientific distinction; when the royal skeleton was examined, measured, and drawings and casts taken of it. The breast bone, in corroboration of history, was found to have been sawn asunder-an operation necessary for taking out the heart, which the good Lord James of Douglas was to convey to the Holy Land.* It was now ascer

When Bruce found his end drew nigh, that great king summoned his barons and peers around him, and affectionately recommended his son to their care; then, singling out the good Lord James of Douglas, fondly entreated him, as his old friend and companion in arms, to cause the heart to be taken from his body after death, conjuring him to take the charge of transporting it to the Holy Land, in redemption of a vow which he had made to go in person thither when he was disentangled from the cares brought on him by the English wars. "Now the hour is come," he said, "I cannot avail myself of the opportunity, but must send my heart thither in place of my body; and a better knight than thou, my dear and tried friend and comrade, to execute such a commission, the world holds not." All who were present wept bitterly round his bed, while the king, almost with his dying words, bequeathed this melancholy task to his best beloved follower and champion. On the 7th of June, 1329, died Robert Bruce, at the almost premature age of fifty-five. With the precious heart under his charge the good Lord James accordingly set out for Palestine, with a gallant retinue, and observing great state. He landed at Seville in his voyage, and learning that King Alphonso was at war with the Moors, his zeal to encounter the infidels induced him to offer his services, which were honourably and thankfully accepted. But having involved himself too far in pursuit of the retreating enemy, Douglas was surrounded by numbers of the infidels, where there were not ten of his own suite left around his person; yet he might have retreated in safety, had he not charged with the intention of rescuing Sir William Sinclair, whom he saw borne down by a multitude. But the good knight failed in his generous purpose, and was slain by the superior number of the Moors. . . . The relics of his train brought back the heart of the BRUCE, with the body of his faithful follower, to their native country. The heart of the king was deposited in Melrose Abbey, and the corpse of Douglas was laid in the tomb of his ancestors, in the church of the same name.-Sir Walter Scott. Hist. Scot.

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