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Scotch dishes, from barley broth down to the bannock, which is a thin cake made of oat-meal. It is a national and fa vourite kind of bread with all classes, and I believe Dr. Johnson became reconciled to it, before his return from the Hebrides. Two species of fish from the Forth, a dessert of native fruits, half a dozen kinds of wine, one of which was old Madeira from his friends in the United States, and a round of whiskey, the usual finale of a Scotch dinner, were among the varieties of the festive board, which was spread with neatness, but with no marks of extravagance.

The conversation at table turned upon a variety of topics, chiefly relating to the scenes we had just visited, and those to which we were going, with both of which the editor and his lady are familiar. They are in the habit of visiting Loch Lomond twice a year, and have walked to the summit of Ben Lomond, a distance of five or six miles from the base, over a rugged road. The view from the top was described as being wide and magnificent, extending from sea to sea. With them, this mountain and lake are favourite portions of Highland scenery. Among the English lakes, the heads of Windermere, Coniston, and Ullswater were preferred. The discriminating comments of such judges were instructive and acceptable.

A circulation of "the mountain dew," (I mean round the table, and not through the warm currents of the blood,) led to some remarks on the comparative effects of beer and whiskey upon the constitution. It was stated, that from a series of well-attested facts, it had been satisfactorily ascertained, that the excessive use of the former, which leads to plethora and apoplexy, is far more pernicious than that of the latter. The contrary opinion has generally been maintained; and if this new doctrine is correct, there should be less anxiety in our country to break up the distilleries and establish breweries. Perhaps it would be an improvement to supersede the use of both, by extending our orchards and planting vineyards.

After dinner, we were conducted into the very sanctum sanctorum of the Editor, which contains his miscellaneous library, and in which he does his writing. It is an antique, but comfortable little room, enjoying a perfect seclusion, with a low, solitary window looking out upon the hill we had climbed. The chairs are coeval with the chapelry, and were obtained from the continent. In the centre of the apart

ment stands an old-fashioned table, covered with green baize, and very much resembling one of those terrific stands, on which surgeons perform their sanguinary operations. To preserve the figure, I could not but think that on this fatal board many a learned dunce and literary coxcomb had writhed beneath the dissecting-knife of the Reviewer. Innocent blood has doubtless in some instances been shed; but it is no more than justice to add, that the general character of the Edinburgh Review has been liberal, even towards the United States, in comparison with Blackwood and the Quarterly.

On returning to the drawing-room, tea was served up, and an agreeable as well as instructive conversation of an hour or two succeeded. The character of General La Fayette, and the warm reception which had been given to him in the United States, drew forth one of the finest panegyrics, and grandest flights of colloquial eloquence I have ever heard. Such an encomium, emanating from such a source, made us prouder than ever of our country. As the same liberal sentiments had but a short time before been openly expressed in a public assembly at Edinburgh, they no doubt came warm from the heart, and manifest a sincere attachment to free principles. The visit of La Fayette has been not less honourable to our country than to himself. An event of so much prominence has attracted general attention in Europe; and all who lay claim to any liberality of feeling speak of the subject in terms of admiration. It is viewed in its proper light, as a spontaneous tribute of gratitude from a great and generous nation towards one of its early benefactors, whose services after the lapse of half a century might have been overlooked, without any positive charges of a dereliction from duty. National gratitude is generally an inert and frigid virtue, under any form of government, and its tardy and reluctant exercise has been peculiarly chargeable upon Republics. The noble example of ours is therefore placed in a stronger point of view by contrast; and this generous burst of enthusiasm, arising from no other motive than genuine feeling, has more unequivocally developed the character of our countrymen, than half a century of little items could have done.

But I am wandering from my subject, and after so long a detail, dare not ask the reader to return even to a conversation relating to the living poets, whose respective merits

were spoken of with a frankness, perhaps with a confidence, which I will not betray. An editor, however, who is in the habit of expressing his opinions boldly through the medium of a public journal has fewer secrets than most people; and probably nothing was broached in a conversation with strangers, which would not have been expressed with the same freedom in the columns of the Edinburgh Review.

At 10 o'clock in the evening, after receiving as a parting favour a memorandum of the most eligible route to be pursued through the Highlands, and the warmest wishes for a pleasant tour, with an offer of any assistance which could facilitate the objects of our travels, we took leave of the family with unmingled feelings of gratitude, for their kindnesses, and hastened home to prepare for our departure from town the next morning.

LETTER XXIV.

TOUR THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS-LOCH LEVEN-BANKS OF THE TAY-PERTH-BIRNAM WOOD-DUNKELD--PASS OF KILLICRANKIE-GRAMPIAN HILLS-INVERNESS-FIELD OF

CULLODEN.

September-October, 1825.-On the 30th we took places in the coach for Perth. The weather was favourable. Though the air was less soft and spring-like, than it had been for some time previous, the skies were serene, and a bright sun gilded the castellated city, as it receded from our view. We descended the declivity, which falls with a gentle slope, from Edinburgh to the Forth, and at the distance of two miles arrived at New-Haven, whence there is a ferry by steam-boat of seven miles to Burnt-Island, on the Fifeshire shore. Adjacent to New-Haven is Leith, the port of Edinburgh, and a place of some importance in a commercial point of view. It is rapidly extending towards the city, and the two will soon be united by buildings, as they already are in interests and the daily intercourse of merchants. The road between them is as much thronged as one of the streets of Edinburgh. Coaches run every half hour, carrying passengers for sixpence each.

The time occupied in transferring a great quantity of baggage to the boat, afforded us an opportunity of looking at the shipping in port, and at the docks which have been erected, for the conveniences of commerce. Nature does not appear to have done much for the harbour. It is exposed to the violence of the winds and waves, and the water is so shoal, that at ebb tide, vessels cannot come up to the wharves. Even the steam-boat was obliged to lie at a distance from the shore, and to take in her freight and passengers by the aid of lighters, occasioning much delay and a great deal of trouble, especially when the weather is bad.

Nearly half an hour was consumed in embarking, and another half hour in undergoing the same process on the other side. The steamboat, like every one I have seen on this side of the Atlantic, was narrow, crowded, and inconvenient, although sufficiently fleet in its motion. There was a heavy swell in the Forth, and in going the seven miles, I experienced more sea-sickness than in crossing the ocean. Many of the passengers were in the same predicament, and seemed little disposed to listen to the music of a robustious piper, who stood upon the prow, and like Arion endeavoured to charm the listening deep with the shrill notes of the pibroch.

Burnt-Island appears once to have been insulated, and a bridge or mound still connects it with the main. It is a small village, with a solitary, old-fashioned church, and is remarkable for nothing that I could learn, except giving birth to Michael Scott, an ancestor of Sir Walter, who was the Roger Bacon of Scotland. He was a profound scholar, and his extraordinary knowledge, in an age of ignorance and superstition, gave him the reputation of a wizard. His magical tricks are celebrated in the Lay of the Last Minstrel; and his potent wand seems to have been bequeathed as a legacy to his illustrious descendant.

The shores of Fifeshire are mountainous, rugged, and rather sterile. Kinross, the capital of the county of the same name, stands on the margin of Loch Leven, about midway between the Forth and the Tay. It is no otherwise interesting, than on account of its pleasant situation, and the romantic scenery in its vicinity. The lake is a fine sheet of water, twelve miles in circumference. Its borders, particularly to the east and north-east, are rural and picturesque. It has four islands, on the largest of which, are the ruins of a

monastery, dedicated to Saint Servanus by one of the Pictish monarchs. On another the shattered remains of Loch Leven castle are still visible from the road. It is among the hundred places to which the charms and the misfortunes of Mary gave celebrity. Here she underwent a rigorous imprisonment, till she was rescued by the gallantry of young Douglas, on the 2d of May, 1568. The coachman directed our attention to a little eminence on the shore of the lake, which yet retains the name of Mary's Knoll, where the queen and her devoted lover are said to have landed after their escape._ He threw the keys of the castle overboard, which as the story runs, were fished up in 1805, and deposited in Kinross House for the admiration of travellers. But this tale was quite too incredible, to gull us out of a shilling to look at them.

At a subsequent period, the castle was besieged by the English, who adopted the novel expedient of drowning out the garrison, by building a dam across the outlet of the lake. But the wily Scotch perforated the bulwark at night, and the sudden flood swept away the army of their invaders, encamped on the bank of the stream below.

Between Kinross and Perth, the route becomes more interesting, leading by Burleigh Castle, the ancient seat of the celebrated lords of that title, and through the secluded vale of Glenfarg, deeply embosomed by the Ochils, which bear a striking resemblance to the Peak of Derbyshire, being smooth and clothed with verdure to their summits. In some places, the passage through the ravine is skirted with a growth of young forests, and scattered with a few cottages, which enjoy an uninterrupted quiet.

Three or four miles from Perth, we crossed the Earn, which is a considerable stream mingling with the waters of the Tay a short distance below. It is navigable for small vessels to the bridge, where there is a neat village, with extensive accommodations for invalids and other company, annually flocking to the medicinal springs in the vicinity. On the right of the road, is seen the village of Abernethy, once the capital of the kingdom of the Picts. Its principal attraction is an ancient tower, seventy feet in height, and similar in its construction to those which are found in every part of Ireland, where enough of them had been examined to satisfy our curiosity.

On arriving at the summit of the hill of Moncrieff, over

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