quence of what Sir Isaac Newton might call its fits of irregular reflection and transmission, you cut your nose if it distorts you one way, and your ear if it protracts you in the opposite direction. The towel being either wet or dirty, or both, you wipe yourself in the moreen curtains, unless you prefer the sheets. When you re turn to your sitting-room, the table is covered with glasses, and mugs, and circles of dried whisky and porter. The fireplace is full of white ashes: you labour to open a window, if it will open, that you may get a little of the morning air and there being no sash-line, it falls on your fingers, as it did on Susanna's Should you break a pane, it is of no consequence, as it will never be mended again. The clothes which you sent to be washed are brought up wet; and those which you sent to be dried, smoked.

You now become impatient for the breakfast; and, as it will not arrive, you go into the kitchen to assist in making the kettle boil. You will not accelerate this: but you will see the economy of Mrs. Maclarty's kitchen. The kettle, an inch thick, is hanging on a black crook in the smoke, not on the fire, likely to boil tomorrow. If you should be near a forest, there is a train of chips lying from the fire-place to the wood-corner, and the landlady is busy, not in separating the two, but in picking out any stray piece that seems likely to be lighted before its turn comes. You need not ask why the houses do not take fire: because it is all that the fire itself can do, with all its exertions. Round this fire are a few oatcakes, stuck on edge in the ashes to dry; perhaps a herring and on the floor, at hand, are a heap or two of bed-clothes, a cat, a few melancholy fowls, a couple of black dogs, and perchance a pig, or more; with a pile of undescribables, consisting of horse collars, old shoes, petticoats, a few dirty plates and horn spoons, a kilt, possibly a bagpipe, a wooden beaker, an empty gill and a pint stoup, a water bucket, a greasy candlestick, a rake, a spinning-wheel, two or three frowsy fleeces, and a shepherd's plaid, an iron pot full of potatoes, a never-washed milk-tub, some more potatoes, a griddle, a threelegged stool, and heaven and earth know what more.. All this time, two or three naked children are peeping at you out of some unintelligible recess, perchance contesting with the chickens and the dogs for the fire, while Peggy is sitting over it unsnooded: one hand in her head, and the other no one knows where, as she is wondering when the kettle will not boil while, if she had a third, it might be employed on the other two. But enough of Mrs. Maclarty and her generation; for

'But it would be unjust to censure the Highlanders for their inattention to cleanliness, as if it was exclusively the fault of this portion of Scotland. Where Mrs. Hamilton's Glenburnie lies, no one knows; but we need not be very anxious, as we can find a Glenburnie every where, and, assuredly, as easily in the Lowlands as in the Highlands. The Maclartys are an ancient and a powerful family; I wish I could add that it was an antiquated one also; but I fear that it is still a thriving race. If it was but possible to prevail on this family to have one thing, but one thing, clean about them, the rest would follow of course. If it was their persons, then their houses would soon be come clean, as a necessary consequence: or if it was their houses, their persons would probably follow, for the sake of uniformity. If but the water or the salt was clean, if there was a clean spoon, a knife, a plate, if there was even a clean surface on a looking-glass, it would detect the vices of the rest so effectually, that, like one sturdy honest man in a parish, it would in time reform, or at least shame, the whole. But unfortunately, in this family of the Maclartys, every thing is so consistently, constantly, uniformly, perenially, dirty in every part, inside, outside, top, bottom, middle, sides, longitudinally, transversely, and diagonally, that no article, nor any part of any article, is left to tell the tale on another, or to blush it into reform. Were I the Dey of Algiers, or a Highland Laird, I would enhance even on Lord Gwydir, and keep an officer: of health, with power to wash Mr. and Mrs. Maclarty and all their family by force, or to fumigate them like rats, and, in de fault of ultimate reformation, to burn them out.

BAREFOOTED PEOPLE.

It is extremely rare to see a man barefooted; and even that only happens on some specific occasions, not habitually in any individual; but it is equally rare to see women with shoes, except when in full dress, on Sundays, or on the borders of the Lowlands. Even among females, however, their use is fast creeping in; but the children of both sexes are bare-legged even to an advanced age, not only among the poorer classes, but also in families of condition. It is not long since domestic female servants, even in Edinburgh, as you well know, paddled about their duties unshod: the fashion is still to be found by those who will seek it, and it must be confessed that it is somewhat repulsive to southern feelings. But out of doors, and

in the Highlands, it adds much to the general picturesque effect of the female attire, which consists of a short jacket and shorter petticoat; and, as the limbs of the fair sex here are well turned, far different from those of the Welsh women, which seem as if they had been shaped in a lathe, a painter will be sorry for the day when the progress of improvement shall have swept away this distinction. I cannot equally praise the mode of dressing the hair; the smoothed locks of all hues, drawn tightly back so as to stretch the face till it shines, and secured by a huge black comb, form a termination to the general effect of the figure which is far from picturesque. In the Long Island, chiefly, though it is found elsewhere, there is a head-dress consisting of a dirty-coloured handkerchief tied round the head; the ef fect of which is even worse than that of the comb or snood, as there is no attempt to give it a pleasing form. But enough, for the present, of tailoring and millinery.

'EXTORTION.

It was on my last visit to Glenco that I formed the courageous resolution of ex ploring this almost unknown spot; unjust ly, perhaps, neglected, since it might form an easy connexion between the central Highlands and the Western Sea. If you know how you may breakfast at Tyanuilt, why should I not also tell you how you may hire a horse in Glenco? I had taken the precaution of engaging mine on the preceding evening, and it was promised by six in the morning; the distance to Rannoch being called twenty miles; a day's journey. The price for the horse and guide was two guineas; which, for one day's ride upon a Highland pony with two shoes, whose value was five pounds, and whose annual keep was nothing, while the usual day labour of the guide was a shilling, should have satisfied even a Glenco conscience. The same sum would have procured a chaise and a man and two horses, for the same distance, or more, at London or York; but Donald, no longer able to make a creagh on Saxon cows, must now, he seems to think, compensate for it by a creagh on a Saxon purse. the morning, the equipage, of course, was not to be found; as the horse had slept on the hill, and was to be caught, not before six, but after nine, and was then to be shod, and saddled, and haltered; and as the shoes were to be made, the saddle to be borrowed from some one two or three miles off, and the halter from some one else. There is a pleasing prospect in all these cases, a train of pithy reflections, by which you amuse the hours of waiting: calculating, at every hour that passes, in which of all the coming bogs you are to spend the night, on which mountain you

In

will break your neck, or in which ford be drowned: knowing that the longest day is too short-knowing that even the Sun himself could not perform the journey in view in less than the time you have allotted for it.

• After walking three miles in search of the horse, and waiting seven hours, he was found but it was plain to see that, even then, all was not right: Sandy Macdonald "could not leave his harvest today," though he was paid for it. Let no man imagine that he understands the true nature of patience till he has made a Highland tour, on Highland ponies, and in Highland boats. I agreed to go on alone, and sleep at the King's house, tó wait for his convenience. As usual, we were to start the next morning at six; but the Highland six-to-day it was only nine. Even then, though the horse was ready, the man was not.

At five o'clock, the guide, the patient, and the horse, found themselves, severally, at the head of the lake; having spent eight hours of hard labour in traversing twelve miles, as it is called. As to the horse, he might as well have remained at Glenco. A ride this was not, by any figure of speech: I cannot even call it a walk; for half the space was traversed by jumping over bogs, and holes, and ditches, and pits, which were generally so wide as to demand much seriors neditation. I may fairly say that I jumped half the way from Glenco to Loch Rannoch.

As our trio proceeded in such a saltatory and disjointed manner, I had not much opportunity of talk with Mr. Macdonald; but, if he thought he had caught a Saxon, I knew full well that I had caught a Highland Tartar. He talked of his harvest, and of the favour he did me by coming, and of the time he should lose in returning; with much more that, I well knew, was, in no long time, to lead to some, demand beyond his bargain. This, however, was a point not to be argued in a bog; I hoped that it would be reserved for terra firma. On terra firma we at length found ourselves; some whisky and a supper were' ordered as an extra gratuity, and the two guineas were presented, with all imaginable thanks in addition. "I shall lose another day of the harvest," said Sandy Macdonald," and I expect ye'll give me another guinea." I could only request him to excuse me, as he had named his own price, and as two guineas was not a bad exchange for the two shillings he would have gained by his harvest. He remained inflexible: no, did not remain any thing; but became insolent. At length, finding his eloquence unavailing, Then you maun give me aght shillings for car

rying your umbrella." The knave had carried this in his hand for a few miles, at his own desire. I went up stairs. In a minute, however, he was at the door, swearing that he would stay there all night, that 1 should have no supper, and that I should not stir till he was paid all his demand. Accordingly, I betook myself to my little Horace; listening to much objurgation and vituperation, both in Gaelic and English: the former having a very ferocious sound, but being, fortunately, a dead letter. But finding, after an hour, that he made no impres ion on Saxon obstinacy, he at length consoled himself by saying that I was not a gentleman, but that he would take the money. I assured him that he was right, that I was not a gentleman, but an informer, and that, instead of paying him, I would lodge an information against him for letting horses on hire without a license. I had learned this expedient from your friend and mine, Daniell, who bad been driven to it on similar occasions. I thank thee, Daniell, for teaching me that word; for it was an astounding and an unexpected blow: and, like oil on the stormy sea in the Naufragium of Erasmus, it caused the rage of the mountaineer to fall at once to a moderate level; but not till after he had protested that he had been once ruined already by an information, and would be ruined again, rather than submit to a Sassanach. I need not tell you that the man got his money and departed, vowing revenge against the next Saxon who should fall into his clutches. It is not very wonderful that travellers in the Highlands call the people extortioners: for, in the matter of horses, you will find nearly the same wherever you go.

IDLENESS.

In one respect, Fort William possesses the distinguishing marks of a capital: idleness. This is precisely the consequence which the Highlanders themselves say is produced by the building of High land villages. Perhaps it is more conspicuous because more condensed; while social or gregarious idleness is more prominent than the solitary doing of nothing; being active instead of passive. It is the agere nihil instead of the nihil agere. To lounge about the streets, impede the way, and to be busily and offensively idle, is a Scottish fashion: and to those, therefore, who are well acquainted with the High Street or the Gallowgate, Fort William will not appear very new. To Londoners it may be new to see the single street of which it consists crowded with idle, men walking about with their hands in their pockets, or collected in groups to yawn together or converse in monosylla bles; except when roused to louder talk

by an occasional sojournment to a whiskyhouse. Even the rain of Fort William-has no effect on these coteries, which stand under the torrents that are showering down on them, unheeding, undiscomposed; less concerned than the very ducks, which quack 1emonstrance against the sky, and not even retiring into their own ever-open doors. My very guide, whose respect and confidence the compass had, secured, lamented the bad example and the want of employment, complained that his own morals were in danger, and was willing to attend me for any thing or nothing, if he could but escape from Fort William..

BOATS.

As to the hiring of boats in the High. lands, it is at their weight in gold nearly. Putting aside hyperbole, however, three days' freight will pay the value of any boat that swims, if swimming it can be called, half full of water, as is the fashion on the west coast. The half of a board, shoved into the angle of the sharp stern, serves to remind you that there is no seat. As there is no floor, your feet are in the water to the ancles: the remains of the fish that were caught on the day it was first launched are there still; odorous, but not of violets. A man without a coat, and a boy without breeches, pull upon a couple of oars hung on pins: pretty hard, I admit, if the machinery is new; but if old, as is more likely, there is danger of their breaking, and you sit in terror; for what is a two-oared boat with only one oar? If, unfortunately, there is wind, and a sail, that sail is a blanket, without sheet, haulyard, or tack, and you must steer as well as you can, yourself, with one of the oars. If the wind is short, you go all to leeward and nothing forward: if baffling, you are taken aback and overset: if aft, you cannot scud, and are pooped and swamped; or else your sail gibes beyond the power of art to prevent it, and down you go like cormorants before a musket. Supposing you escape, you must pay a guinea, or two, as it happens; that is, if you have made such a bargain. If not, and you are sulky, and of true English blood, you go before the justice: like a travelling poet whom I once met. The justice was the landlord, and he said, "Ah! poor fellow-it is hard work :"-and the two guineas served to pay the rent when term day came round. Such at least was this poet's conclusion. But the poet reasoned like the jockey. The fares are often regulated. And there are boatmen too whom I have paid with pleasure.

" HORSES.

If boats are thus, what shall we say about horses? The value of the beast is five pounds: his annual grass, possibly as many shillings; commonly, no.

thing. If he has any shoes, there are but two, and he is not, perhaps, much accustomed even to these. Halter or bridle, it is tolerably indifferent which; but the halter is the softest in your hand. I have ridden on a quadrupled sack, and the stirrups were two nooses of rope. This is perhaps better than a saddle with the flaps curled upwards, which has undergone all the vicissitudes of rain and fire for twenty years; an application which neither man nor horse can bear long. This Bucephalus was hired for the day, and you rose to mount him at six. He was in the hill, however; was chased for a dozen or two of miles before he could be caught; arrived at two o'clock, blown, and more ready to lie down than go on; and you pay half a guinea, or a guinea, as it may be, for crawling out the remainder of a rainy day on him. The guide, who earns a shilling if he stays at home, that is, if he can find one to earn, will not walk by your side to bring him back, without another half guinea; and, for less than all this, you might have ridden one of Mr. Fozard's best hunters to Epsom races.

'MORALITY.

'It seems to me that their neighbours the English, and not seldom ourselves also, commit an error, of which the con sequences are more important than they at first appear, when they attribute the superior morality of the Scots in general, to education. This opinion, taken as an undisputed fact, has been one of the great arguments lately brought forward in favour of popular education; as if that alone would redress all the evils to be remedied, or as if the mere act of learning to read, would (I do not speak it nationally) convert an Englishman into a Scotchman.

*

* It does not require much consideration to see that this notion is unfounded. I will not, and indeed I need not ask, what it really is which renders the national morality of Scotland superior to that of England: though there would be very little difficulty in assigning the causes. Yet there has been a good deal of exaggeration and mis-statement on this subject. England, never touchy about its national character, and always bearing censure with the greatest good humour, has suffered the remark to pass so long, that it is now received as a demonstrated truth. It is very far indeed from being that.

*

I doubt much whether, abstracting, as we are in justice bound to do, all that which constitutes the real difference between London and Edinburgh, the immorality of the latter is not equal, perhaps greater, than that of the former, regard being also had, numerically, to the inhabitants. Nor must it be forgotten, that, in the non-manufacturing English districts,

which offer the only fair comparison with Scotland, there is as little exertion of the criminal laws required as in that country. Wales, among others, which, for this purpose, may fairly be considered as England, presents as may maiden assizes as even the Highlands. Let us not also forget, though I do not pretend to assign the cause, that, in the latter country, much of this vice and crime has been overlooked. It is acknowledged, and was never indeed denied, that many hundred sheep were stolen, within a few years, in the former, not distant, condition of Sutherland. Yet not a single prosecution took place. Had twenty been stolen in Kent, they would have led to as many transportations.

EDUCATION.

If this presumed superior morality of Scotland depended on education merely, how are we to explain why that great mass of Highlanders, which has been hitherto deprived of this advantage, should be fully on a par in this respect, to say no less, with their countrymen of the Lowlands. It must be obvious also to every one, for it is too lamentably plain to be denied, that the national morality of Scotland is rapidly declining, while its education is rather increasing than diminishing. The causes of this also are sufficiently obvious; but as I need not enter into them, I shall only request those who have adopted this theory with regard to Scotland and England respectively, to reconsider a subject on which we cannot trifle with impunity. It has also been far too little considered, during the heat of this question, what the different effects are which education produces on a rural and a dispersed population, and on one which is condensed in towns and manufactories. It is most important to reflect on the different destination, or consequences, of education in these two cases, and on the addition which the power of reading may make to those evils which seem almost necessarily to flow from the condensation of the lower orders. Poison and honey may both be extracted from the same flower by different. agents; and it is a melancholy reflection, that when we have enabled the people, in these cases, to read their Bibles, that becomes, perhaps, the only book which they will never open.

'MISERY.

'Close on the margin of the shore, on a spot of waste green, was a hut, built of open wicker work; pervious to all the winds, and ill protected from the rain by an imperfect covering of turf. On entering it, we found a poor woman cooking some shell fish over a peat fire, attended by two children. On the floor, scarcely covered by a wretched supply of blankets, lay the husband, sick, of a fever as we