being in the neighbourhood. From Callendar I proceeded to Loch Earn, which does not possess many picturesque charms, at least for my eye. The first view I had of Killin, after leaving Loch Earn, was singularly grand; this place is in a situation romantic beyond description. It stands at the base of surrounding mountains, whose dusky sides are occasionally enlivened by the white stripes of water descending from their summits, whilst a mountain torrent rolling over a bed of rock below, and rushing by a group of firs, nearly divides one half of the town from the other. The town is very poor; and has scarcely any trade or manufactures. As there is no coal in that part of the country, the inhabitants are obliged to use turf. The inn at Killin is very comfortable, and the innkeeper remarkably moderate in his charges. I had a letter to the Laird of McNab, who has a house and a large family burial-place near the town, walled off, and covered with aged firs. This Laird lives, I was informed, in the style of the ancient chieftains, and is the only one who does so in Scotland. He was from home

when I called.

I had just mounted my horse to quit this enchanting and romantic spot, when the bell of the church, which stood close to the inn, began to toll, and immediately afterwards a concourse of men appeared, moving with hasty steps to the church-yard, which induced me to follow them: in the middle of the throng, I observed four men bearing a coffin to the grave, into which, with great decorum, but without ceremony, the poor remains of mortality were lowered: at that moment every one took off his blue bonnet, and three of the group advanced to the verge of the grave, where they remained until it was filled up, in attitudes of manly and unaffected sorrow: a long roll of green turf was then brought upon a pole, unravelled, and neatly placed over the mound. So rapid was the interment, that, in about ten minutes, only here and there a little scattered fresh mould distinguished this from the neighbouring tombs. The funeral bell struck but a few strokes; no minister attended, no prayer was said, no anthem sung. The deceased was the daughter of an opulent farmer; and one of those who attended said that the Highlands could not boast of a lassie more good or more bonny, and that she fell in the bloom of youth: yet no female mourner was there. Such were the features of this solemn scene, and such, I presume the usage of this part of the Highlands. Accustomed to see the dead interred with more showy sorrow, at first, I must confess, I thought these Calędo

nian mountaineers were destitute of that sensibility which the memory of the departed inspires in every other country, amongst the most savage as well as the most refined; but a minute's reflection rescued them from this impression by placing their religion before me, simple and unadorned as it is in all its offices, and by the marks of genuine, though silent sorrow, which appeared in every countenance; and I also recollected to have met, in my way to Killin, at some miles distant, several of the figures which stood before me, who had assembled from remote villages to mingle in the funeral procession. One of the group, after observing me for some time, advanced to me, and courfeously asked me if I came from London? I answered him in the affirmative." That is the place, I believe,” said he, "where the King tarries."-I told him it was.—“ Ah !” replied he, "then you must be surprised to see the manner in which we have placed this corpse in the ground, for I have heard you bury your dead there with more ceremony, but yet you do not feel more than we." I fully agreed with the honest Highlander, who, after a few more words, bowed and withdrew.

I shall long remember this scene, with which the very elements were in unison. At a distance were heard the murmurs of waterfalls; from a deep romantic glen a broad meandering stream, as it flowed to the Loch, watered one side of the church-yard; the leaves of many a stately beech and elm rustled in the precursive blast of an approaching snow-storm, which, as it passed away, left the brown summits of the vast surrounding mountains, white; whilst the expressive faces, athletic limbs, and Tartan dress of the Highlanders before me, and the solemn cause of their assembling, presented a grand and affecting picture at onee to the eye and to the mind.

3

CHAPTER XXVII.

Lines to the Caledonian harp-Loch Tay-house of Taymouth-monumental inscriptions--Duke of Athol's park-Dunkeld-Athol Broze-anecdote a wee bit over the brae-Doune-the Lord's anointed-Glasgow --Argyle-street-Tontine coffee-house-tolbooth-infirmary-cathedral-college-Andersonian institution-Nelson's monument-steam-theatre -circuit court-remarks on cotton millsClyde and Waterfalls-Rugby school.

AS I rode along, thinking of M'Nab and his piper, the following lines occurred to my mind, which I afterwards retouched at Killin:

LINES

ON THE CALEDONIAN HARP.

In days that long have glided by,
Beneath keen Scotia's weeping sky,
On many a hill of purple heath,
In many a gloomy glen beneath,
The wandering lyrist once was known
To pour his harp's entrancing tone.
Then, when the castle's rocky form
Rose mid the dark surrounding storm,

The harper had a sacred seat,

Whence he might breathe his wild notes sweet.

Oh! then, when many a twinkling star

Shone in the azure vault afar,

And mute was ev'ry mountain bird,
Soft music from the harp was heard;
And when the morning's blushes shed
On hill, on tow'r, their varying red,
Oh! then the harp was heard to cheer
With earliest sound th' enraptur'd ear.
There many a lady fair was known,
With snowy hand to wake its tone;
And infant fingers press'd the string,
And back recoil'd to hear it sing.
Sweet instrument! such was thy pow'r
'Twas thine to gladden ev'ry hour;
The young and old then honour'd thee,
And smil'd to hear thy melody.
Alas! as Time has turn'd to dust

Th' embattled tower, the beauteous bust,
Thou too hast mark'd his frowning brow-
No Highland echo knows the now:
A savage has usurp'd thy place,
Once fill'd by thee with ev'ry grace-
Th' inflated pipe, with swinish drone,
Calls forth applauses once thine own!

The pen and the pencil would fail in giving any adequate idea of Loch Tay-a superb expanse of water, fifteen miles long, and from one to two broad. Neat farms and country residences every where enliven the eye. The road winds through plantations of young beech and oak, beneath the arches of whose branches the lake is seen in a thousand points of varying beauty; a prodigal luxuriance diffuses itself over the fields which line its verdant margin, and high up the sides of the majestic mountains, which, whitened by many a waterfall, are reflected in its mirror; whilst a small island, thickly covered with trees, and supporting the ruins of a priory, the picturesque church-tower, bridge, and village of Kenmore, embellish its beautiful termination. In this island the remains of the Queen of Alexander the First of Scotland are said to be interred. The inn at Kenmore wanted only a bellows to render it very convenient; the servant told me there were none in the house, and she puffed my fire with her own healthy lungs. The lake abounds with salmon, pike, perch, eels, char, and trout. Lord Breadalbane has vast property in this part of Scotland, and an immense extent of pleasure-ground. About two miles from Kenmore, towards Killin, I visited the hermitage belonging to his Lordship, through the rustic window of which is seen a beautiful waterfall, two hundred and seventy feet in extent of visible descent. His Lordship is building a new house upon the site of the ancient house of Taymouth: that which is erecting appeared to be designed almost precisely from Inverarycastle, and also to be built with the lapis ollaris: the wings of the ancient mansion were standing. Hills thickly covered with stately trees rise before and behind it. As I advanced in my way to Dunkeld, upon leaving Taymouth-castle, I passed by a small druidical temple, and near Aberfeldie saw the Fall of Moness, which I think one of the finest I ever beheld. The road to Dunkeld, occasionally extended along the banks of the Tay, was a continuation of beautiful and picturesqué objects.

The evening was far advanced when I reached the ferry below Dunkeld. The scenery was very beautiful and picturesque, and the Tay runs with a deep and rapid current, after winding from a south-western to a north-eastern direction by a noble meander above. Arrived on the other side, I passed under a brick archway, which connects one part of the Duke of Athol's grounds with another; and after a ride through a noble avenue of elms and other stately trees, and another arch, and by the remains of the cathedral, occupying a large space towards the north-east end of the street, I reached the inn, which was so crowded, that it was solely owing to the courtesy of two gentlemen who were visiting the Highlands that I could obtain admission to a room. I did not then know that there was an excellent inn, affording every comfort and accommodation, on the other side, within two or three hundred yards of the ferry, but out of the road which I came.

In the morning I visited the cathedral, which is a noble Gothic pile, and throws over the town the interesting appearance of antiquity. The choir still remains, and is used for worship. The chancel is now the burial-ground; and the whole building, standing between the grounds of the Duke of Athol and the town, forms a continuation of the Duke's park-wall. Upon one of the tomb stones I read, "Here lie Roy Macdonald, and Eliza Fleming, his wife." Amongst the lower people, the wife continues her maiden name; and if a widow, and several times married, she may, if she likes it, select the name of the husband she liked best.

Dunkeld was long a Bishop's see; and amongst those who did honour, by their piety and learning, to the Catholic religion, during its establishment in Scotland, the tourist, with peculiar pleasure, recurs to the well-known history of Gavin Douglas, once Bishop of this see. This illustrious Prelate was one of the ancestors of Lord Glenbervie. He was of a noble family, and was born in 1474: he excelled in theology and poetry.

The ruins of this cathedral form a picturesque object to the Duke's house, which is very plain, and badly situated. I was informed that it is in contemplation to remove it for one upon a magnificent scale. The park and grounds, which are very extensive, are richly adorned with trees of stately and graceful growth, by hill and dale, and lofty craggy rocks, majestically rising, thinly shaded with young firs. Along the river, and sometimes diverging from it, the most delightful walks are cut through woods, shrubberies, and corn-fields. A violent storm