The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1852-11-04


than the remains of remarkable beauty Her
smile could hardly have been sweeter, or her
eyes finer, at twenty Her sight, hearing, and
memory, seem unimpaired; her manners are
graceful, modest, and ladylke, and she con-
verses with rare intelligence and animation,
speaking with a slight, sweet Scottish accent.
Her likeness to Naysmith's portrait OF her
brother is very marked-her eyes are peculiar
y like the idea We have Of his, both by pictures
and ription--large, dark, lustrous, ana
changing. Thoseeyes shOne with new brightness
us told her OF our love for the memory OF her
beloved brother, our sympathy In his sorrows,
and our honor for his free and manly spirit
when told her that the New World, as the
Old, bowed to the mastery of his genius, and
were swayed to smiles or tears by the won
drous witchery of his song. But when | spoke
my admiration of the monument, and said,
What Joy it would have been to him, could
he have foreseen such noble recognitions OF his
greatness y she smiled mournfully, and shook
her head, saying, "Ah, madam, in his proudestt
moments my poor brother never dreamed of
such thing then added that his death
chamber WAY Jarkeiied and his death agony
deepened by want and care, and torturing fears
for the dear ones he was to leave. | was re-
old Scotch dame, in orr country. on hearing of
the completion of this monument . Puir Rob ;
he asked for bread, and now they gle him
staner
Mrs Beggs says that Naysmith's portrait of
her brother is the best, but that no picture
could have done full justice to the kindling and
varying expression Of his face In her daugh-
tiers, who are pleasant and interesting women,
N To
the poet The three sons of Burns are yet liv-
ing-two are in the army, and one has stu
alton under Government at Dumfries. All
three are widowers. When | saw her, Mrs.
Beggs was expecting daily the two youngest, the
soldiers, who as often as possible visit Ayr, and
cherish as tenderly as proudly the memory of
their father
1t was with deep emotion that parted from
this gentle and large hearted woman, in whose
kindred and likeness to the glorious peasant
almost felt that | had seen ham, heard his
voice with all its searching sweetness, and had
my soul sounded by the deep divinings of his
eyes 1t seems, indeed blessed thing, that
after the sorrow which darkened her youth,
the beholding the pride Of her house sink into
the grave in his prime, broken-hearted by the
neglect of friends the contempt and cruelty of
by a weary weight of selfreprOach-th she
has lived to see his children happy and pros
perous-his birthplace and his grave counted
among the worlds pilgrim shrines-to be her
self honored and beloved for his sake, and to
sun her chilled age in the noontide of his glory
From Ayr, We took the railway to Glasgow
which place we did not reach till after dark
In the morning we rose early, took u carriage,
and drove to the Cathedral, to which we were
80 fortunate as to gain admittance, even at that
unusual hour. This is a commandngly stu
ated vast, and gloomy edi6ce, chiefly remark
able as the only Cathedral in Scotland spared
by Knox and his compeers at the time of the
reformation. 1t is more massive than beauti-
full, but has certain heavy grandeur about it,
that seen as we saw it, in the chill and gray
ness of the early morning, Expresses one to a
painful degree. IN the extensive, dark, damp,
and melancholy crypts beneath this Cathedral,
is LAID the scene OF a meeting between Francis
Osba'diston end the Macgregor in SCOTS Rob
Row.
On height back of the Cathedral is the
Glasgow Metropolis, containing some fine mon
umental sculptures, particularly conspicuous
among which is a statue of John Knox
Glasgow, for u manufacturing town, makes
very handsome appearance. Many of the
public buildings are of u fine style Of archtec-
ture; and the planted squares those fresh
breathing places off the crowded business
streets, are truly beautiful. In Waverley square
stands a noble column, crowned with grand
statue of Scott
About eight o'clock we took the steamer to
go up the Clyde, Loeb Long, and Loeb Coil.
The air was fresh, and somewhat too keen, but
the sunlight was brilliant, and we greatly enjoy
ed the trip. The first object of particular inter
est which we passed, was the grand, old, rock
seated Castle of Dumbarton famous from the
earliest periods of Scottish history, and most
sadly memorable as the scene of the betrayal
of Wallace by the iause Mdhteith"
1t was not until we had passed up Loeb Long
into Loeb Coil that the true Highland scenery
began to open upon US in its surprising lowell
ness and rugged grandeur The shores Of
Loeb Coil are rough, barren, and precpitous,
but now and then we passed green sheltered
hooks and dark glens Of indescrbable beauty.
grew more and more silent and unconscious
of my immediate surroundings, for my very
soul seemed to have gone from me, to revel
abroad in the wide, varied enchanting scene
At Loeb Goil-head, we took outside seats on
the stage-coach, to drive through Il beg your
pardon, but give the name as it was given to
me) big He'll Glen" to Inyerary, on Loeb
Fyne.
Our driver on this occasion proved to he a
decided character, having rich comic humor
Of his own, a good memory, fine voice, and
admirable powers of mimcry. He told story
well. and recited poetry like tragcdian. Al
ter informing ny that Loeb Goil-head was the
scene of Campbells fine ballad of " Lord W.
Inns Daughter,n he recited the poem very effect
lively, though when he came to the passage
I" One lovely hand stretched for aid,
And one was round her lover
he took the liberty of making a slight change
in the text, his version being
"0ne lovely hand was stretched for aid,
And ye may a guess whore was tn iher"
This glen, of name unholy. is one of the most
beautiful passes ever beheld-a wild, winding,
shadowy, magnificent place. Verify, indeed,
oh, Juliet What's in IL name!D To Inc it
certainly seemed on that lovely day, that
"Nickie-Ben," in annexing this mountain pass,
had imprudently laid claim to a choice bit of
heavens own territory
lnverary is a very small village but we found
there n nice, wel-ordered hotel, where we were
exceedingly comiortable-a far better inn, sure
ly, than the one at this place, on which Burns
perpetrated this witty and wicked epigram:
"Whoe'er he be who sojourns hero
pity much his case
Unless he como to wait upon
The lord, their god, his Grace
The Duke of Argyles castle and grounds
are now, rs then the chief features of the place,
after the scenery, which is certainly very beau
tfuL 1t is truly princely residence in site
and surroundings, though the castle itself is
built neither in style of feudal grandeur nor
modern elegance After dinner, we visited the
Castle, took stroll through the noble park,
and assembled hill nearly eight hundred feet
high-n all, walk of over five miles. The