re all brought up to see me, and it was pleasing indeed to
observe the good breeding and good, feeling with which they deported
themselves on the occasion. Indeed, this adventure created quite an
intimate feeling between us and the people there. I had been much
pleased, with them before, in attending one of their dances, on
account of the genuine independence and politeness of their conduct.
They were willing and pleased to dance their Highland flings and
strathspeys for our amusement, and did it as naturally and as freely
as they would have offered the stranger the best chair.

All the rest must wait a while. I cannot economize time to keep up
my record in any proportion with what happens, nor can I get out of
Scotland on this page, as I had intended, without utterly slighting
many gifts and graces.

LETTER VI.

INVERARY.--THE ARGYLE FAMILY.--DUMBARTON.--SUNSET ON THE
CLYDE.--GLASGOW.--DIRT AND INTELLECT.--STIRLING.--"THE SCOTTISH
CHIEFS."--STIRLING CASTLE.--THE TOURNAMENT GROUND.--EDINBURGH.--JAMES
SIMPSON.--INFANT SCHOOLS.--FREE BATHS.--MELROSE.--ABBOTSFORD.--WALTER
SCOTT.--DRYBURGH ABBEY.--SCOTT'S TOMB.

Paris, November, 1846.

I am very sorry to leave such a wide gap between my letters, but I was
inevitably prevented from finishing one that was begun for the steamer
of the 4th of November. I then hoped to prepare one after my arrival
here in time for the Hibernia, but a severe cold, caught on the way,
unfitted me for writing. It is now necessary to retrace my steps a
long way, or lose sight of several things it has seemed desirable to
mention to friends in America, though I shall make out my narrative
more briefly than if nearer the time of action.

If I mistake not, my last closed just as I was looking back on the
hill where I had passed the night in all the miserable chill and amid
the ghostly apparitions of a Scotch mist, but which looked in the
morning truly beautiful, and (had I not known it too well to be
deceived) alluring, in its mantle of rich pink heath, the tallest and
most full of blossoms we anywhere saw, and with, the waterfall making
music by its side, and sparkling in the morning sun.

Passing from Tarbet, we entered the grand and beautiful pass of
Glencoe,--sublime with purple shadows with bright lights between, and
in one place showing an exquisitely silent and lonely little lake.
The wildness of the scene was heightened by the black Highland cattle
feeding here and there. They lo