it un gout de comparaison. Connoisseurs take their models among the fathers of the art, and, losing sight of nature,

"widely stray

Where Virgil, not where fancy, leads the way."

By the side of this Rubens, there is a N. Poussin, which appeared to me very good; a group of women and disciples round the body of Christ. The expression of the heads and attitudes very fine; and the colouring less of the dull brickred than usual. Several excellent portraits by Vandyke.

Chatelherault, from the name of some possessions of the family in France, is a dependence of Hamilton-House. The ride to it is along a ravine, something like the deep bed of the Mouse we saw the day before yesterday, but much inferior. The little river here is called the Avon. A grove of oaks is shewn at this place of a prodigious size :-we saw them at a distance only. It is clear that Scotland is capable of bearing fine timber, and that its want of wood is chargeable to the inattention of the inhabitants, and not to any defect of soil or climate.

We finished the day at our obliging conductor's. The roses of his garden are still in flower; cherries are not over; green peas and cauliflowcrs are in season; and hay-making has travelled

with us from London here,-nearly two months difference! The summer of Scotland is uncertain, late, and cool. The seasons are blended together, and it is scarcely ever hot or cold.

August 24.-Glasgow. Yesterday morning we visited the ruins of Bothwell Castle, in the grounds of Lord Douglas,—a good ruin, but dressed rather too youthfully. It looks as if it had been taken up from its old bed of rubbish, carefully dusted, scoured with soap-suds and a brush, then placed on the top of a knoll of neat turf, with a gravel walk all round. There used to be a bed of flowers too, but that is removed; and, upon the whole, if the gravel walk were made to resemble an easy worn path, I would not quarrel with the green turf, nor the absence of thorns and briars. The grounds, though not extensive, are very beautiful, and the walks well laid out. We saw no servants to fee, and watch our steps, which is certainly unusually liberal.

At night we were received with Scotch hospi tality at Mill-heugh by the family of the late celebrated Professor Millar. A little sequestered and shady vale, watered by a small lively stream, is called here a holme, (but pronounced, though not meaning, home ;) and the rivulet is called a burn.

On our arrival at Glasgow this morning, we found at the inn several notes of invitation, and

offers of service, as obliging as unexpected. These were not simple forms of politeness, for in less than an hour, Professor M. Mr G. and Mr H. having learned that we had so little time to stay, undertook to carry us immediately to the principal manufactories. We have seen carding and spinning-mills, weaving-mills, mills for everything. The human hand and human intelligence are not separated; and mere physical force is drawn from air and water alone, by means of the steam-engine.* Manufactories, thus associ

* A steam-engine, of the power of forty horses, consumes about five chaldrons, or 11,000 lbs. weight of coals in twentyfour hours; and, notwithstanding the great cheapness of coals, the keeping of 120 horses (three sets of 40, to relieve each other,) would not cost more than double the price of the fuel; therefore, in a country where fuel costs more than double the price here, the steam engine could not be used to advantage. This great consumption of fuel, by confining the steam-engine to a coal country, secures, in a great degree, to England, the exclusive privilege of a prodigious power, alone sufficient to give her a decided superiority in the practice of most of the useful arts. It is more than a century since the principles of the steam-engine were discovered, and applied to mechanical uses, but it is not more than twenty five or thirty years since this machine, I might almost say this living body, was brouglit to its present state of perfection, by the celebrated Mr Watt. The expression of its power in horses is more practical than scientific. The power of a horse is understood to be that which will elevate a weight of 33,000 lbs., the height of one

ated with science, seem to produce with the facility and fecundity of nature. It is impossible to see without astonishment these endless flakes of cotton, as light as snow, and as white, ever pouring from the carding-machine, then seized by the teeth of innumerable wheels and cylinders, and stretched into threads, flowing like a rapid stream, and lost in the tourbillon of spindles. The eye of a child or of a woman watches over the blind mechanism, directing the motions of her whirling battalion, rallying disordered and broken threads, and repairing unforeseen accidents. The shuttle likewise, untouched, shoots to and fro by an invisible force; and the weaver, no longer cramped upon his uneasy seat, but merely overlooking his self-moving looms, produces forty-eight yards of cloth in a day, instead of four or five yards.

Passing rapidly from one thing to another, you have only time to wonder, without understand

foot in a minute of time, equal to about 90 lbs. four miles in an hour; a force greater than that exerted by an ordinary carthorse, which is not estimated at more than 70 lbs.; that is to say, that a horse harnessed to a cart, weighing, with its load, 40 cwt. or two tons, and drawing on a level road at the rate of four miles an hour, makes use of the same force as if his traces, instead of being fastened to a cart, passed over a pulley, and lifted perpendicularly a weight of 70 lbs.

ing enough to explain satisfactorily what you have seen, or scarcely to retain any connected remembrance of it. One thing, however, made an impression, from its ingenious futility,-the tambouring or embroidering mill. Multitudes of needles, self-moving, execute, as by enchantment, a regular pattern of sprigs or flowers. This machine has the appearance of the stocking. loom. I do not know whether there is not a dying-mill; the force of water is used at least in the process, to press the yarn after it has been dipped, and to squeeze out the dye. This was done formerly by twisting with a stick; a slow and laborious process, injurious to the yarn. It is now done by the water-press, as powerful as it is simple and ingenious. A strong case, (of iron I believe), of about three feet every way, receives a lid, or rather piston, exactly fitted to its interior, in which it plays up and down. Water is introduced under this piston by means of a forcing pump, the lever of which is worked by one or two men; every stroke of the lever injects a small portion of water under the piston, which, acting like a wedge, lifts it insensibly, compressing the yarn placed over. The labour of two men applied for five minutes, elevates a weight of fifty tons from the bottom of the case, that is to say, three feet. The mechanism of this press appears the inverse of the pneumatic ma