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pine-tribe, harmonize admirably. Very rare plants have often rewarded the excursions of the botanist-in particular the Lady's Slipper, Orchis, one of our most rare and beautiful native plants. The heath, for which Scotland is famed, is particularly useful to the Highlanders, who employ it as fuel, as a covering for the cottages, and even brew a kind of beer from the young sprouts; and its rich bloom forms a luxuriant contrast to the desert wilds on which it is found; thus affording great relief to the eye, tired of gazing on barren rocks. Branberries, northberries, and bilberries grow plentifully on the heaths, and the strawberries are truly delicious, and so plentiful are they in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh, that, when they are ripe, most families

go in the surrounding country, and give what is called a Strawberry feast; where this charming fruit, cultured in different ways, forms the sole refreshment. The manufactures of Scotland are numerous and important. Every species of weaving, hosiery, &c. is carried to a high pitch of perfection, and in Paisley most of the streets are occupied by róws of manufactories. Education, especially amongst the lower classes, is much attended to, and many peasants' sons possess a very good knowledge of Latin, and the more abstract parts of arithmetic, with a degree of keen good sense, and shrewd observationi, cloaked under a most rustie appearance, and the most uncouth dialect. The religion which chiefly prevails in Scotland is the Presbyterian, though all others are tolerated. The animal productions of · Scotland are more diversified than those of the sister country, owing to the many secluded haunts to which the more timid kinds may retreat. A race of wild cattle, formerly very abundant, with manes resembling those of lions, and white as snow, is still to be found on the extensive estates of the duke of Argyle, while deer af different kinds abound in the woods.

Many kipds of birds nearly extinct in England, are still to be found in the Highlands. Grouşe, Ptarmigan,

the Cock of the woods, various sorts of Falcons, Buzzards, and even Eagles have been observed. Loch Ness, as I before stated, never freezes in winter ; and in that season presents a very animated picture, in consequence of the numerous tribes of aquatic fowl, which seek support there. Fish is very abundant; most of my readers have, I presume, heard of Scotch salmon and oysters. The number of islands which crowd the western coast of Scotland, present much sublime scene ry; but as I shall consider these in a future paper, I shall take no further notice of them at present. I need hardly inform my readers that Scotland's heroes and bards will take rank even with those of England: and the education which is given to even the poorest, renders it less wonderful, that so many Scotch peasants have distinguished themselves by their genius, or their mechanical skill. Burns, Tannakill, Fergusson, among the lower orders, and Black, Stewart, Scott, and Playfair, among the higher, are a full proof of the native genius of the Scots. We are accustomed to think lightly of Scotland, because the peasants speak chiefly Gaelic, live on oat cakes, and run about with naked feet. Yet let us remember that the poorest Scotchman would sooner die than come to the parish ;* that crime is far less prevalent among them than in England, and that in short, there is more truth in Cowper's lines, than our national pride would lead us to suppose. ..

To whose lean country, much disdain

We English often show;
Yet from a richer little gain,
But wantonness and woe



* The following anecdote was related in Mrs. Grant's residence in the Highlands, I think. A poor carrier lived near Mrs. G., whose only support was his horse." The animal died, and the man was nearly starved. The overseer heard of this, and came to offer kind assistance. “No, thank you, sir," said the poor fellow, with honest pride, “it is not come to that neither, for I have 8d. and the skin of the horse."

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What had there been upon the waste

To guard its tender form, Shadow its beauty from the heat,

Or hide it from the storm ?

No, pretty flower; I do not wish

That thou wert growing still ; The shower thou hast not felt is cold,

The evening breeze is chill.

The day-star does not always rise

So bright, so pure as now; Time would have soiled thy pretty leaf,

And fould thy azure brow.

Go, while no touch of thing unkind,

Thy gentle breast has riven, And all that thou hast ever felt,

Is one bright beam from heaven.


O Ask not one, whose heart is drear;

Whose fragile bark is driven,
By wave on wave of earthly care,

Almost from hope of Heav'n.
O ask not him, why he should weep,

Whose wayward treacherous heart,
So lately sunk in sinful sleep,

Forgot its better part..
Bid him go weep, the icy breast,

Insensible to love;
Which wooes the flut'ring soul to rest,

It else could never prove.
Bid him lament the stubborn will,

Still deaf to mercy's voice,
Perversely prone to choose the ill,

And glory in its choice.
O bid him mourn the carnal mind,

Which slights the Pearl of Price;
And, slave to sin, to earth confined

Forgets her native skies.

Yet, lest he sink beneath the fears,
That thus his peace destroy;
Go whisper, He that sows in tears,
Shall surely reap in joy.

We will come unto him and make our abode with him,

ALONE-what is't to be alone ?→→→→→

It is to think, to feel,

Where none will question of the thought,
Or list the bosom's tale-

To hope, to dread, to wish, to doubt,
And ask of it of none-

To have the heart o'erflow with love,
And nought to spend it on-

On our own bosom to receive
The coldly falling tear;
In joy to doubt it can be joy,

That no one minds to share

To sing our hymns of praise alone,
While all is silence round,

And doubt if Heaven itself can hear
What nothing will respond.

Alone-and can I be alone,
Where all that is bespeaks
The presence and the sympathy
Of Him my spirit seeks?

Where every thought I have ascends
Through yonder azure zone,

To Him who once on earth had thoughts,
And feelings like my own?

Ascends! Ah no! for He is here,

My bed, my path about:
Marks every feeling as it comes,
And answers every doubt.

He lists with sympathizing love

To all my sorrow's tale;

And speaks to me when none are near,

Of things he knew so well.


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