A Trip Abroad | Page 5

garden, where one may walk
or sit down, surrounded by green grass and beautiful flowers.
Edinburgh Castle is an old fortification on the summit of a lofty hill
overlooking the city. It is now used as barracks for soldiers, and is
capable of accommodating twelve hundred men. Queen Mary's room is
a small chamber, where her son, James the First of Scotland and the
Sixth of England, was born. I was in the old castle in Glasgow where
she spent the night before the Battle of Langside, and later stood by her
tomb in Westminster Abbey. Her history, a brief sketch of which is
given here, is interesting and pathetic. "Mary Queen of Scots was born
in Linlithgow Palace, 1542; fatherless at seven days old; became Queen
December 8th, 1542, and was crowned at Stirling, September 9th, 1543;
carried to France, 1548; married to the Dauphin, 1558; became Queen
of France, 1559; a widow, 1560; returned to Scotland, 1561; married
Lord Darnley, 1565; her son (and successor), James VI., born at
Edinburgh Castle, 1566; Lord Darnley murdered, February, 1567;
Mary married to the Earl of Bothwell, May, 1567, and was compelled
to abdicate in favor of her infant son. She escaped from Lochleven
Castle, lost the Battle of Langside, and fled to England, 1568. She was
beheaded February 8th, 1587, at Fotheringay Castle, in the forty-fifth
year of her age, almost nineteen years of which she passed in captivity.

"Puir Mary was born and was cradled in tears, Grief cam' wi' her birth,
and grief grew wi' her years."
In the crown-room are to be seen the regalia of Scotland, consisting of
the crown, scepter, sword of state, a silver rod of office, and other
jewels, all enclosed in a glass case surrounded by iron work. St.
Margaret's Chapel, seventeen feet long and eleven feet wide, stands
within the castle enclosure and is the oldest building in the city. A very
old cannon, called Mons Meg, was brought back to the castle through
the efforts of Walter Scott, and is now on exhibition. I visited the Hall
of Statuary in the National Gallery, the Royal Blind Asylum, passed St.
Giles Cathedral, where John Knox preached, dined with Brother
Murray, and boarded the train for Kirkcaldy, where I as easily found
Brother Campbell at the station as Brother Murray had found me in
Edinburgh.
I had been in correspondence with Brother Campbell for some years,
and our meeting was a pleasure, and my stay at Kirkcaldy was very
enjoyable. We went up to St. Andrews, and visited the ruins of the old
Cathedral, the University, a monument to certain martyrs, and the home
of a sister in Christ. But little of the Cathedral remains to be seen. It
was founded in 1159, and was the most magnificent of Scottish
churches. St. Rule's Tower, one hundred and ten feet high, still stands,
and we had a fine view from the top. The time to leave Kirkcaldy came
too soon, but I moved on toward Wigan, England, to attend the annual
meeting of churches of Christ. Brother Campbell accompanied me as
far as Edinburgh, and I then proceeded to Melrose, where I stopped off
and visited Abbotsford, the home of Sir Walter Scott. It is situated on
the River Tweed, a short distance from Melrose, and was founded in
1811. By the expenditure of a considerable sum of money it was made
to present such an appearance as to be called "a romance in stone and
lime." Part of this large house is occupied as a dwelling, but some of
the rooms are kept open for the numerous visitors who call from time
to time. The young lady who was guide the day I was at Abbotsford,
first showed us Sir Walter's study. It is a small room, with book shelves
from the floor to the ceiling, the desk on which Scott wrote his novels
sitting in the middle of the floor. A writing-box, made of wood taken

from one of the ships of the Spanish Armada, sits on the desk, and the
clothes worn by the great novelist a short time before his death are kept
under glass in a case by the window, while a cast of his face is to be
seen in a small room adjoining the study. We next passed into the
library, which, with the books in the study, contains about twenty
thousand volumes. In the armory are numerous guns, pistols, swords,
and other relics. There is some fine furniture in one of the rooms, and
the walls are covered with paper printed by hand in China nearly ninety
years ago. Perhaps some who read these lines will recall the sad story
of Genivra, who hid herself in an oaken chest in an attic, and perished
there, being imprisoned