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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 numeroas 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 scenery; 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;
* 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."
HYMNS AND POETICAL RECREATIONS.
THE FLOWER OF TO-DAY.
I saw him lower the blade;
The moving steel betrayed
The tall, ripe grass, that many a day
And many a night had grown,
Came in its fulness down
The tender blade of yester morn,
Born of the summer shower,
Boastless of seed or flower.
And there was one in midst of all,
A blossom scarcely blown-
Its bosom to the sun.
The colouring of its bud was like
The azure blue of Heaven,
The vermil tint of even.
And Oh! it was a lovely thing;
It had not lived an hour;
Or tasted of the shower.
The mower did not raise his scythe
when it swept that way.
The flower of to-day.
I sighed --But O, had it stayed behind,
When all about it died
When all was gone beside.
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.
WHY WEEPEST THOU ?
O Ask not one, whose heart is drear;
Whose fragile bark is driven,
Almost from hope of Heav'n.
Whose wayward treacherous heart,
Forgot its better part..
Insensible to love;
It else could never prove.
Still deaf to mercy's voice,
And glory in its choice.
Which slights the Pearl of Price;
Forgets her native skies.
Yet, lest he sink beneath the fears,
That thus his peace destroy ;
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,
Or list the bosom's tale
To hope, to dread, to wish, to doubt,
And ask of it of none
And nought to spend it onmi
On our own bosom to receive
The coldly falling tear ;
That no one minds to share
To sing our hymns of praise alone,
While all is silence round,
What nothing will respond.
Where all that is bespeaks
Of Him my spirit seeks ?
Through yonder azure zone,
And feelings like my own?
Ascends! Ah no! for He is here,
My bed, my path about:
And answers every doubt.
He lists with sympathizing love
To all my sorrow's tale ;
Of things he knew so well.