friar kissing a young nun; and on the capitals near by are several figures of nuns, laughing at the loving couple. Tradition informs us that over the doors to this Chapter House stood thirteen figures of solid silver, about a foot in height, representing the twelve apostles and the virgin Mary, the latter being two feet high; and Oliver Cromwell ordered them to be taken down and melted into money, so that it might go about doing good. Of course Mr. Culler ascended the Lantern tower, and of course I didn't.

At three o'clock in the the afternoon we started for Edinburgh and arrived there between eight and nine in the evening. We took the East Coast railway line, and the greater part of the way could look across the water of the North Sea, dotted with vessels and boats. As night drew near, the sun modestly sought to hide himself behind the distant hills on our left, while his beams tinged the great pile of fleecy clouds with gold and purple, as they appeared to rest on the bosom of the water.

the College Street United Presbyterian church in the morning. In the afternoon my husband went to St. George's Free church, and in the evening to the Dublin Street Baptist church. This city is remarkable for its church-going people. Everybody goes to church, rain or shine. They are not, so afraid of being drowned or melted, or even sprinkled with rain, as people in America. They always expect rain, and go prepared for it, even if the sun does shine. The church pews have an umbrella-holder attached; and rain would be the last thing that would keep them from church. I think the spark of divine grace must be very feeble in a person when a few drops of rain will put it out. Omnibuses and street cars in Europe have seats on top where ladies as well as gentlemen ride, when they wish to obtain a good view. One day we rode in this manner about the city, and were much pleased with Edinburgh. It has many magnificent buildings, fine private residences, imposing churches, delightful gardens and parks, and almost every foot of it is historical. Here is where John Knox, the reformer, lived and labored; where Walter Scott's Heart of Midlothian was located; and where Mary Queen of Scots held her brief, but stormy reign. As early as 854 Edinburgh was quite a village. It now has a population of more than two hundred thousand. A sort of ravine separates the old town from the new, which is traversed by railroad tracks. The Mound, a large embankment, connects the two parts of the city, its descending slopes transformed into flower gardens. Upon this mound is the Gallery of Fine Arts, and the Royal Institution. The old town is the most picturesque and historical. Its principal street stretching from Holyrood Palace up to the castle is a mile in length, its various portions

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called the Lawnmarket, the High Street and Canongate. street has as many as one hundred closes, miniature streets, some of them not more than four or five feet wide, running at right angles to the main street. They were built as defences against the invasions of the Highlanders, and could formerly be closed by means of portcullises. The old town has also the picturesque old Castle, lofty Arthur's Seat, Salisbury Crags, Holyrood Palace, and the Queen's drive around the base of the hills. The new town slopes to the sea, and its finest street is Princes street, ornamented with Walter Scott's magnificent monument.

Taken as a whole, Edinburgh is a most beautiful city, with its handsome buildings, of gray sandstone; its wide, clean, well paved streets; its handsome squares; elegant monuments, ten in number; its terraces; the Castle perched upon its rocky eminence; hills, crags, and blue stretch of water. It is noted for its seminaries of learning, possessing stimulants for the intellect, and many advantages for studying the fine arts. We ascended Calton Hill, a high rocky eminence, rising abruptly from the heart of the city, where we could look all over Edinburgh and far out on the water. Here is Nelson's monument, a lofty, massive, circular tower used as a time signal, which looks more like a light house than a monument. On the flag staff, a large ball is rigged, which, moved by machinery adjusted to the observatory, drops every day at one o'clock, Greenwich time. Just opposite is a square Grecian monument in remembrance of Prof. Playfair, a noted philosopher; also a monument to Dugald Stewart; and an unfinished national monument, intended to be a copy of the Panthenon at Athens, and a memorial to the Scots who fell in the Napoleonic wars. Twelve pillars stand on a foundation; this is all and nothing more. It was never completed.

Further down the hill is a monument to Robert Burns, a sort of Grecian temple, surrounded by twelve polished marble pillars. Within is an interesting collection of relics: letters written by the poet, some of his poems, a marble apple, perfect and true to nature in form and coloring, presented to his brother's wife at her wedding, two paintings representing the story of Tam O' Shanter and the Witches, and many other things.

At the foot of Calton Hill is the old Calton burying-ground. Here we saw the Martyrs' Monument, an obelisk erected in 1845 to the memory of several persons who were banished for advocating Parliamentary Reform; and also a round tower in which is the grave of David Hume, the historian. Although he was an

infidel, over his tomb are these words:

"Behold, I come quickly. Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."

In

Early one morning, after a substantial breakfast, feeling vigorous in body and fresh in mind, we climbed up to the top of Arthur's Seat, so called because from this eminence King Arthur looked down upon the scene of his victory over the Saxons. making the ascent, we passed the ruins of St. Anthony's Chapel, and also a well by the same name, a little below the chapel, where we took a good, cool draught from the spring whose overflow helps to supply the artificial St. Margaret's Loch. When perched on an irregular mass of rocks, which caps the climax, eight hundred and twenty-two feet above the sea level, we had a magnificent panoramic view of Edinburgh, which repaid all our toil of climbing; and here, away up here, were two table-cloths, spread on the ground, covered with cakes, buns, lemonade, ginger-ade, etc. And two women presided over these funny little refreshment stalls. From this point of view a small low cottage was pointed out to us as the one in which Jeanie Deans (Helen Walker) used to live; and over there, the Salisbury Crags form a beautiful picture with their sharp peaks distinctly outlined against the sky. We bought some excellent ginger-snaps, which gave us sufficient snap to descend this gigantic hill in a lively manner, and were soon at Holyrood Palace, which is situated near the foot.

It is a grand quadrangular structure, with a double battlemented tower on each end of the front. In the centre is the grand entrance, ornamented with four Doric columns on each side, and above are carved the royal arms of Scotland. It was founded by James IV. in 1501. A portion of it is fitted up sumptuously as the royal apartments, as Queen Victoria and the

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royal family make it their stopping-place on the way to the Queen's castle, at Balmoral, in the north of Scotland. We immediately ascended to the picture gallery, a large room filled with fictitious pictures of both fabulous and reputed kings of Scotland, painted in 1684. Lord Darnley's rooms contain several portraits, one of himself when a child, and the walls are hung with tapestry covered with trees, leaves, Cupids and landscapes. Another flight of stairs brought us to Mary Queen of Scots' apartments. The first is called the audience chamber, the ceiling of which is ornamented with armorial bearings, and the walls are hung with very old tapestry, dropping to pieces with age. Here is an ancient bed, with old gold silk drapery, said to have been occupied by Charles I. while stopping at the palace; and some handsome embroidered chairs. This is the room where John Knox had many warm discussions with this most beautiful Queen, each contending for their faith. The adjoining apartment is Queen Mary's bed-room, twenty-two by eighteen feet. Her bed is just as it was three hundred years ago, excepting that old Father Time has stolen the richness of color from the crimson damask hangings and beautifully wrought silk counterpane. They are slowly mouldering away, and look so light and porous that a breath of air might blow them to pieces. A small bit of moth-eaten blanket lies on the pillow. Here are her old-fashioned, high, straight-backed chairs, and the babylinen basket sent her by Queen Elizabeth. Portraits of Henry VIII., Queen Elizabeth, and Mary herself, adorn the walls. the southwest corner of this room is a door leading into her dressing-room, which is only about ten feet square, and hung with faded tapestry. On the north side of the bed-room are two doors close together; one opens on a private staircase, and the other leads into a very small room twelve feet square, in which Queen Mary used to take her tea, called a supper-room. In this room is a block of marble, brought hither from the chapel, on which Mary and Lord Darnley knelt when they were married. In a glass case are pieces of the old decayed tapestry which formerly covered the walls. History tells us that on the night

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