quite curious, where caves, worn by the sea, penetrate inland a long distance under the fields. In one, a cannibal is said to have lived in the fourteenth century! Another cave, nearer Arbroath, called the Geylet Pot, is described by Pennant as "the most astonishing of all, that almost realizes in romantic form a fable in 'the Persian Tales.' The traveller may make a considerable subterraneous voyage, with a picturesque survey of lofty rocks above and on every side; he may be rowed in this solemn scene, till he finds himself suddenly restored to the sight of the heavens; he finds himself in a circular chasm, open to the day, with a narrow bottom and extensive top, widening at the margin to two hundred feet in diameter. On gaining the summit, a most unexpected prospect appears he finds himself at a distance from the sea, amidst cornfields; enjoys a fine view of the country, and a gentleman's seat at a small distance from the place out of which he emerged." Thus one may continue discovering varieties of the wonderful coast scenery of Scotland, unsurpassed by any, readily accessible, of equal length. Naturally enough, Lovel was engaged in the rescue of the Wardours. From it, he retired to Monkbarns, where he slept in a certain haunted chamber. Naturally and properly enough also, he found himself decidedly in love with Miss Isabel, and also experienced, in that strange lodging-place, some peculiar dreams. The next day, with Mr. Oldbuck, he walked among the fishers' huts by the shore, huts quite similar to many now on the coast described, and that might introduce one to episodes of life as touching as those of the Mucklebackets so pathetically described by Scott. Other incidents of the story ensued, and then a picnic party of the gentry of the novel, given at St. Ruth's Priory, described, as before remarked, from the Abbey at Arbroath. This once magnificent and sacred structure was founded in 1178, and dedicated to St. Thomas à Becket by King William the Lion, who was buried in its precincts in 1214. The monks were Tyronensians first from Kelso. It became perhaps the most richly endowed ecclesiastical institution in Scotland, except Holyrood. In 1530, for instance, with but about twenty-five monks, its wealth permitted its hospitalities - extended to all, high or low or rich or poor, to supply "Soo wethers, 180 oxen, 11 barrels of salmon, 1200 dried codfish, 82 chalders of malt, 30 of wheat, 40 of meal," besides other produce of its extensive lands and tenantries. Cardinal Beaton, Archbishop of St. Andrews, — the Scottish Wolsey, was one of its latest Abbots. Great and especial privileges were conceded to it and to the town. It was within an area of 1150 by 706 feet, enclosed by a lofty wall, battlemented, and turreted, a single, stern, square tower of which, 70 feet high, remains, the only entire portion of the abbey. The material used was a darkred stone, unfortunately very friable. The church, of course cruciform, was 270 by 132 feet. The central part of the nave was 35 feet wide, the aisles each 16 feet, and the total width 68 feet. The nave was 148 feet long, and the choir and chancel 76 feet. The transept had an east aisle 16 feet wide, and a main aisle, making a total width of 45 feet. The side walls were 67 feet high. There were two western towers, and a lofty central tower or spire. Devastated at the Reformation, it was allowed to fall into decay. A century ago a considerable part was standing, but much of this fell at about that period. Billings writes that "there are few buildings in which the Norman and the early English are so closely blended, and the transition so gentle." But the wear of time and neglect and fanaticism have sadly dilapidated it. "The mouldings and tracery" (writes the same author) "are thus wofully obliterated; and the facings are so much decayed, as to leave the original surface distinguishable only here and there." Latterly, the Exchequer has interposed; and some repairs, very commendable if not picturesque, have been made to arrest the rapid decay. Remaining now, are a tower of the enclosure, 70 feet high; perhaps one-half of the west front, including the main entrance, —a grand roundarch transition door-way, — and the lower parts of two square corner towers; a lesser portion of the chancel end; considerable of the chapter-house or vestry, and of the south wall and gable of the south transept, with some once beautiful transition work. The bases of the interior pillars alone remain. And in such condition we find this abbey, another holy and noble temple of Scotland allowed to perish, to be succeeded only by insufficient and comparatively contemptible religious "accommodations." The romantic or entertaining adventures and the picturesque scenes represented by the Great Magician within these ruins, or near them, while uncommonly pleasing, show that his exuberant imagination created a great deal besides incident and character. At Arbroath, as at the Holy Island, we must now suppose that subterranean passages described by him, though once not only pos sible but probable, are filled or destroyed. Memory or reading, however, during the hours of a pleasant twilight or moonlight at this "St. Ruth's," and reanimation of its recesses with scenes of "The Antiquary," will enable one to spend such time pleasantly and well, and to find a wonderful addition to the interest of the novel, while recalling the incidents of the picnic; of the duel that was subsequent; of search at midnight for buried treasure (when the deluded baronet was the dupe of a German adventurer —prototype of more modern "mining" swindlers - who endeavored to deceive him concerning imaginary or fictitious wealth that could be dug here); and of the supervision of this search by secreted observers, and of the startling manner in which they haunted the ruin and the treasure-seekers; and, finally, of the impressive spectacle of a stealthy yet formal funeral by torchlight, incidents all seemingly real, as are so many others described by Scott. "The Antiquary" is associated with other places, but of minor importance and imaginary, although with some resemblance to recognizable extant objects. One will, however, probably be made as well acquainted as possible with its localities, during an afternoon ramble along the sea-shore near Arbroath, and during a visit later in the day to the venerable remains of the Abbey of St. Thomas. The novel introduces one historical incident with a graphic and interesting description of an event that occurred during Scott's earlier years, and that, in some form, more than once engrossed his attention, with more cause than we trust it will ever again engross the thoughts of his countrymen. This incident is an alarm of a French invasion, —a bugbear, or a possibility, or a probability, more conceivable by a Briton than by an American or other alien to British land (if one is to judge by comparatively recent demonstrations). Whatever may have been witnessed or thought necessary at later dates, in "'98," time of the story, Jonathan Oldbuck valorously armed himself for the defence of home, as ardently patriotic, if not as advisedly appointed, as a member of the volunteer corps would be now. And the worthy man went forth in his panoply to find that the alarm was as may it always prove— baseless. The prototype of Mr. Oldbuck, the Antiquary, was, as already mentioned, Mr. George Constable, with whom Scott first became acquainted in 1777, at Prestonpans. Scott recorded in his "Auto biography," that he "was an old friend of my father's, educated to the law, but retired upon his independent property, and generally residing near Dundee. He had many of those peculiarities of temper which long afterwards I tried to develop in the character of Jonathan Oldbuck. It is very odd, that, though I am unconscious of any thing in which I strictly copied the manners of my old friend, the resemblance was nevertheless detected by George Chalmers, Esq., solicitor, London, an old friend both of my father and Mr. Constable, and who affirmed to my late friend Lord Kinedder, that I must needs be the author of 'The Antiquary,' since he recognized the portrait of George Constable. But my friend George was not so decided an enemy to womankind as his representative Monkbarns," &c. The prototype of Edie Ochiltree, that example of a peculiar style of old Scottish beggars, a "blue-bonnet,” and one of the remarkably live human beings created by the Great Magician, has been thought to have been one Andrew Gemmels, or Gemble, once a rude old soldier and afterwards a beggar, who resembled Edie. His haunts were mostly in southern Scotland. From Arbroath the route of this tour leads to Edinburgh. Travellers may go thither by rail through Perth, Stirling, and Linlithgow, making from Perth an excursion to Falkland and Loch Leven, scenes of important incidents in two of the Waverley novels (and of some Scottish history, also, readers may suggest). This route will be sketched in the next two chapters. XXVII. "THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH." Twenty-sixth Novel of the Series; Written 1828; Published Autumn, 1828; Author's Age, 57; Time of Action, 1402. ALMOST every one now approaches Perth by rail, and thus hardly, at first, realizes the beauty of its position. Quite differently first came Scott, as he informs us in the opening chapter of this story. "I was not above fifteen years old," he wrote, when occurred "the first excursion which I was permitted to make on a pony of my own;" the route of which led over a now disused road crossing the Ochils at a spot called the Wicks of Baiglie, southward from Perth. This, he added with patriotic devotion, “is one of the most beautiful points of view which Britain, or perhaps the world, can afford," from which the traveller beholds "stretching beneath him, the valley of the Tay, traversed by its ample and lordly stream; the town of Perth, with its two large meadows or Inches, its steeples and its towers; the hills of Moncreiff and Kinnoul faintly rising into picturesque rocks, partly clothed with woods; the rich margin of the river, studded with elegant mansions; and the distant view of the huge Grampian Mountains, the northern screen of this exquisite landscape." "I recollect," he continues, "pulling up the reins without meaning to do so, and gazing on the scene before me as if I had been afraid it would shift like those in a theatre." "The recollection of that inimitable landscape has possessed the strongest influence over my mind, and retained its place as a memorable thing when much that was influential on my own fortunes has fled from my recollection. It is, therefore, natural, that, whilst deliberating on what might be brought forward for the amusement of the public, I should pitch upon some narrative connected with the splendid scenery which made so much impression on my youthful imagination." This city, Perth, is one of the most ancient and celebrated in all Scotland. It is indeed said to have been built and fortified as early as the time of the Roman Emperor Agricola, in the year 81, when the eagles of his wonderfully aggressive power flew thus far, and, with his legions, came, it is narrated, over almost the very pass that Scott has described. Its charms affected the old Romans much as they have moderns, as Scott has told us in his own "anonymous" lines: "Behold the Tiber!' the vain Roman cried, From an indefinite mediaval period, until the latter part of the fifteenth century, Perth was capital of Scotland. It had a Parliament House and a Castle, and, prior to the Reformation, no less than four monasteries, two nunneries, and other religious establishments. Continually a scene of historic events, it is well known as that of some of the earliest attacks on the ancient church by the |