carries back the imagination into the very heart of the days of Shepherd Majesty. The Magdalen is preserved in a glass case—and truly it is worthy of all manner of attention. It is only a half length-it represents her as leaning backwards in that last gentle slumber, which slides unnoticed into the deeper slumber that has no end-her long golden tresses floating desolate and thin over her pale breast-her eye-lids weighed down with a livid pressure, and her bloodless lips closed meekly in a pensive smile of unrepining helplessness. A few little cherubs are seen looking with calm and rosy smiles of welcome from among the parting garments of the clouds above-stealing the eye upwards from the dim and depressing spectacle of repentant feebleness and mortality, into a faint far-off perspective of the appointed resting-place. I question whether it be not a pity to see such a picture at all—unless one is to be permitted to look at it till every lineament and hue is stamped for ever on the memory. But short as my time was, I treasured up something which I am sure I never

shall forget.

We then walked in the Duke's Park, up the romantic glen of the Evan, which river flows into the Clyde almost close behind the palace, to see the remains of Cadyow Castle, the original seat of the family, and the scenery of that exquisite ballad of Scott's, in the Border Minstrelsy. The banks of this stream are about the most picturesque I have ever seen, and the situation of the old Castle one of the most noble and sublime. Nothing remains of it, however, but a few damp mouldering vaults, from the loop-hole windows of which one has a terrific plunge of perspective down into the yawning ravine below-and the scanty traces of the moat and drawbridge, by which, on the other side, the approach of the fastness was defended. Originally, I believe, this was a royal seat, and conferred upon the first of the Hamiltons that came into Scotland, about the end of the thirteenth century. The situation is so very grand, that I am at a loss to account for their having deserted it, in order to remove to the plain where the present mansion-itself now of some three hundred years

standing is placed. They talk of building a new house about the present time. If they do so, I hope they will take to the hill again, and look down once more in supremacy over the whole of the beautiful valley, which stretches at the foot of the rocks of Cadyow-whose towers and vaults have now for centuries, in the words of their poet, only

"Thrilled to the music of the shade,

Or echoed Evan's hoarser roar."

In the neighbourhood of these ruins, are still visible some of the finest remains I have ever seen, of the old original forest, with which the whole of our island was covered-the most venerable trees, without question, that can be imagined—hoary, and crumbling, and shattered every where with the winds and storms of centuries-rifted and blasted in their main boughs— but still projecting here and there some little tufts of faint verdure and still making a gallant show together, where their gray brotherhood crowns the whole summit of the hill-these

are

"the huge oaks of Evandale,

Whose limbs a thousand years have worn;"

and among them I saw couched, most appropriately, the last relics of that breed of wild cattle, by which, in old times, the forests of Scotland were tenanted.

"Mightiest of all the beasts of chase,

That roam in woody Caledon;

Crashing the forest in his race,

The mountain bull comes thund'ring ou

"Fierce on the hunters' quiver'd band,
He rolls his eyes of swarthy glow;
Spurns with black hoof and horn the sand,
And tosses high his mane of snow."

The description in these lines is a perfectly accurate one-they are white or cream-coloured all over-but have their hoofs, and horns, and eyes, of the most dazzling jet. The

fierceness of the race, however, would seem to have entirely evaporated in the progress of so many ages, for the whole of the herd lay perfectly quiet while Dr. C, Mr. S and I passed through the midst of them. I wonder some of our nobility do not endeavour to transplant a little of this fine stock into our parks. It is by far the most beautiful breed of cattle I ever saw-indeed, it bears all the marks of being the nervous original from which the other species have descended, taking different varieties of corruption into their forms, from the different kinds of less congenial soil to which their habitation has been transferred. But perhaps the Duke of Hamilton and Lord Tankerville, (for they are the only noblemen who are in possession of this breed,) may be very unwilling to render it more common than it is. I hope if it be so, they themselves, at least, will take good care to keep free from all contamination this "heritage of the woods."

The view we had from these heights, of the whole valley, or strath, or trough of the Clyde upwards, is by far the richest thing I have yet seen north of the Tweed. This is the Herefordshire of Scotland, and the whole of the banks of the river are covered with the most luxuriant orchards. Besides, there is a succession of very beautiful gentlemen's seats all the way along so that the country has the appearance of one continued garden.

We dined quietly at Hamilton, and returned to Glasgow in the cool of the evening. There is absolutely no night here at present, for the red gleams of day are always to be seen over the east before the west has lost the yellow tinges of the preceding sunset. I sometimes laugh not a little when I reflect on the stories we used to be treated with long ago, about the chilness and sterility of the Land of Cakes, sojourning, as I now am, among some of the finest scenery, and under one of the most serene and lovely heavens, I ever saw in the whole eourse of my wanderings.

P. M.

LETTER LXXV.

TO THE SAME.

I SPENT the Friday of last week very pleasantly at Hill, the villa of one of my Glasgow acquaintances, situated a few miles to the north of that city. In the course of talk after dinner, when I had been enlarging on the pleasures I had received from hearing Dr. Chalmers preach, and, altogether from observing the religious state of the peasantry in this part of the world, a gentleman who was present asked me, If I had ever yet been present at the giving of the Sacrament in a country kirk in Scotland? and on my replying in the negative, expressed some wonder that my curiosity should not already have led me to witness, with my own eyes, that singular exhibition of the national modes of thinking and feeling in regard to such subjects. I allowed that it was strange I should not have thought of it sooner, and assured him, that it was a thing I had often had in my mind before I set out on my journey, to inquire what the true nature of that scene might be, and how far the description, given in the Holy Fair of Burns, might be a correct one. He told me, that without question, many occurrences of a somewhat ludicrous nature sometimes take place at these Sacraments; but that the vigorous, but somewhat coarse pencil, of the Scottish bard, had even in regard to these, entirely overstepped the modesty of nature, while he had altogether omitted to do any manner of justice to the far different elements which enter most largely into the general composition of the picture-adding, too, that this omission was the more remarkable, considering with what deep and fervent sympathy the poet had alluded, in "The Cotter's Saturday's Night," and many others of his compositions, to the very same elements, exerting their energies in a less conspicuous manner. While we were yet conversing on this subject, there arrived a young clergyman, a Mr. P—, a very agreeable and modest person, who, on understanding what we were talking of, said, That the safest and shortest way for the

stranger was to go and see the thing; he himself, he added, was so far on his way to assist at this very ceremony, at a parish some ten miles off, and nothing could give him greater pleasure than taking me with him. You may be sure I acceded to his proposal with great good-will, and I offered to take him to the field of action in my shandrydan. He hesitated a little about the propriety of deferring his march till the Sunday morning, but soon allowed himself to be over persuaded by the kindness of our host, who also determined to make one of the party.

Accordingly, at an early hour on the Sunday morning, we mounted, and took the highway to the Church of, for it was there the Sacrament was to be given. As we went along, Mr. P prepared me for what I was about to witness, by telling me, that according to the practice observed in the Scottish kirk, the Eucharist is distributed, in general, only once and never more than twice, at any one place in the course of the year. In the country parishes, there is rarely more than one such festival; and the way in which the preparations for it are conducted, are sufficient to render it a very remarkable feature in the year of the rural parishioners. Before any young person is admitted to be a partaker in the Sacrament, it is necessary to undergo, in presence of the minister, a very strict examination touching all the doctrines of the Church; and, in particular, to be able to show a thorough acquaintance with the Bible in all its parts Now, the custom of the country requires that at a certain age the Sacrament should be taken, otherwise, a very great loss of character must accrue to the delinquent; so that to prepare themselves by reading aud attentive listening to what is said from the pulpit for undergoing this examination, forms universally a great point of ambition among the young peasants of both sexes; and the first occasion on which they are to be permitted to approach the Altar, is regarded by them with feelings somewhat akin to those with which the youth of Old Rome contemplated the laying aside of the Praetexta, and assumption of the Toga Virilis. Never, surely, can the vanity of our nature be taught to exert itself in a more useful manner; for the attainment of know