into the Frith. Here it was that Bruce, with his gallant Scots, met the English under Edward II., on the 24th June, 1314. It derives its name from the oaten cakes or bannocks made in the mills on its banks. The English were defeated with great slaughter, for there was no retreat, but a blind rout and helpless flight. Burns has immortalized this battle by his celebrated national song, and here stands a noble monument erected to Scotland's greatest man, the "Bruce of Bannockburn." This evening I visited the Salisbury Crags, and the top of Arthur's Seat. Here is a charming prospect in view. On the right sleeps the calm and gentle Frith of Forth. On the left stretch out as far as the eye can reach the Pentland Hills; immediately in front is the beautiful city of Edinboro', with its parks, its towers and steeples. There, in that old rickety house, lived Jennie Deans, the amiable, the kind, the pious Jennie. There is the "Grass Market," that dark and bloody ground, where many a Presbyterian and Covenanter received the martyr's crown. Dunedin, adieu! Thy shame and thy glory stand recorded on the pages of neverdying history. Yours, truly, H. W. A. LETTER EDITORS ADVOCATE : NO. VI. TRAFALGAR HOTEL, LONDON, ENGLAND, I arrived in this " great Babel some four or five days since, and have put up at the Trafalgar Hotel, near the monument and close to the Spring Gardens. I find my hotel a very quiet and agreeable place. My travelling companion, Dr. Smith, is still in the north of Scotland, among the "kilts and tartans," for which he seems to have taken quite a fancy. Shelby and Johnson are, however, with me, two glorious Mississippians. We occasionally get on a "burst," and astonish these phlegmatic Englishmen very much indeed. On our arrival here, after registering our names, we proceeded to take a glass of ale, and then went to take another glass of ale, when Shelby told the following story: "Once upon a time, the Governor of South Carolina met the Governor of North Carolina, and says the Governor of South Carolina to the Governor of North Carolina, Governor, it is a d-d long time between drinks;' whereupon the Governor of North Carolina said to the Governor of South Carolina, 'Governor, suppose we do take a drink!"" on which Johnson proposed that we should all take a drink. Now be it remembered we had just arrived from Edinboro'. This was our first night in London, and we wanted to see the town; so after taking a turn up the Hay Market for a short distance, we called a carriage, and told the Britisher to drive us to the "Comorn Gardens." In due course of time we arrived, and found them crowded with beauty and fashion, with old age and ugliness; with very lean people and very fat people. These gardens are gotten up on a most magnificent scale, after the Parisian style. They cover several acres of ground, and contain dancing saloons, fairy cottages, artificial grottos, and many other places to amuse the fancy and "delight the heels" of the seekers of pleasure. I think there must have been, at the lowest calculation, 10,000 persons at these gardens. The music is very fine, and the gas-lights most artistically and beautifully arranged. The "Vaux Hall" Gardens in former days were all the rage, and their brilliancy often astonished "the country bumpkins" who came up to London. These have passed away, and now the "Comorn" have opened with transcendent splendor. Of course the élite of the city seldom visit this place; it seems to be mostly frequented by the fast young men and women of London, who come here to dance to delicious music, and pass an hour or two in the "little frivolities" of life. Admission one shilling-children half price-no negroes here. By the by, you very seldom see a negro in Great Britain, except at Liverpool, where there are a good many sailors. When Daniel Webster arrived in London, he said to his cab-driver, "Take me to the Tower." Now I differed from the great Daniel, for the morning after I arrived I told my Jehu to drive me to the House of Lords. I wanted to see the acting, living, great men of the world;' the men who governed Parliament, and through Parliament the world. A fig for your Tower and its ancient renown and worm-eaten glory! On en tering the House of Lords, I found the Chief Justice on the woolsack, with huge wig and black gown. On his right sat Henry Lord Brougham; on his left another distinguished Lord. They were trying an appeal case, and the counsel addressing them I thought was particularly heavy and dry. Brougham looks hearty and hale, although 80 years old. He resembles in a remarkable degree, John Bell of Tennessee, and Judge Moore of St. Martin, Louisiana. I asked a policeman, a stout, welldressed beefeater, to point out to me Lord Brougham. His reply was, "Have you never seen his portraits? He is exactly like his portraits." Said I, "No sir, I never saw his portraits." "Great God," said the policeman, "where have you been all your life?" To which I modestly replied, that I had been all my life in the United States, where we considered Lord Brougham a small concern, and didn't care a d-n for him or his portraits. On this we played quits; the "man of authority" gazing at me as if I were a savage from the wild woods of North America. The chamber of the House of Lords is elegantly fitted up with all the luxury of modern art. Like the House of Commons, the Lords sit on benches and not in chairs. The woolsack is a crimson-covered sack, or more like a square bed, on which the Lord Chancellor sits. The position must be very uncomfortable, for there is no support for the back. They should therefore select for this honored post the man who has the strongest backbone. The chamber is badly arranged; the spectators' gallery very small, and the whole affair seemingly much contracted. The trappings of royalty are fully carried out here. All the officers, sergeants-at-arms, and door-keepers are in full uniform, with long swords at their sides. While in London I visited the House of Lords frequently, and witnessed the debates. I was anxious to hear Lord Macaulay, but he was in very bad health. The Duke of Argyle, a small, red-headed man, about 40 years of age, seemed to be the most active business man in the House. He married the daughter of the Duchess of Sutherland, and is now the proprietor of immense estates. In this aristocratic assembly there are now but few great statesmen or orators. Brougham is failing fast-is now almost in his dotage, and his place cannot be well supplied. Macaulay will soon die, for he has softening of the brain. Argyle is a man of educa |