ade farewell to Glasgow, overwhelmed with kindness to
the last, and only oppressed by the thought, how little that was
satisfactory we were able to give in return.

Again in the railroad car on our way to Edinburgh. A pleasant two hours'
trip is this from Glasgow to Edinburgh. When the cars stopped at
Linlithgow station, the name started us as out of a dream.

There, sure enough, before our eyes, on a gentle eminence stood the
mouldering ruins of which Scott has sung:--

"Of all the palaces so fair,
Built for the royal dwelling,
In Scotland, far beyond compare
Linlithgow is excelling;
And in its park in genial June,
How sweet the merry linnet's tune,
How blithe the blackbird's lay!
The wild buck's bells from thorny brake.
The coot dives merry on the lake,--
The saddest heart might pleasure take,
To see a scene so gay."

Here was born that woman whose beauty and whose name are set in the
strong, rough Scotch heart, as a diamond in granite. Poor Mary! When her
father, who lay on his death bed at that time in Falkland, was told of
her birth, he answered, "Is it so? Then God's will be done! It [the
kingdom] came with a lass, and it will go with a lass!" With these words
he turned his face to the wall, and died of a broken heart. Certainly,
some people appear to be born under an evil destiny.

Here, too, in Linlithgow church, tradition says that James IV. was
warned, by a strange apparition, against that expedition to England
which cost him his life. Scott has worked this incident up into a
beautiful description, in the fourth canto of Marmion.

The castle has a very sad and romantic appearance, standing there all
alone as it does, looking down into the quiet lake. It is said that the
internal architectural decorations are exceedingly rich and beautiful,
and a resemblance has been traced between its style of ornament and that
of Heidelberg Castle, which has been accounted for by the fact that the
Princess Elizabeth, who was the sovereign lady of Heidelberg, spent many
of the earlier years of her life in this place.

Not far from here we caught a glimpse of the ruins of Niddrie Castle,
where Mary spent the first night after her escape from Lochleven.

The Avon here at Linlithgow is spanned by a viaduct, which is a fine
work of art. It has twenty-five arches, which are from seventy to eighty
feet high and fifty wide.

As the cars neared Edinburgh we all exclaimed at its beauty, so wo