out, seldom fail to conduct worth and industry to comfort and independence.

"I by no means advise you to lay aside your taste for literature; it does you credit as a man, and very possibly as a man of talents. But those powers which can make verses are applicable to the more useful and ordinary purposes of life. Your situation is at present dependent; but there is none so low from which patience, industry, and perseverance cannot raise the possessor of those excellent qualities. I would only advise you to publish in such a shape as to insure a return of profit, as some compensation for adopting the thriftless occupation of a poet. If you should resort to subscription, you are at liberty to put down my name; for I scarce think that a man who writes so sensible a letter can be guilty of the folly of publishing very bad verses. I am, sir, with sincere good will, your humble servant,

"P.S.-As you have given me no direction, I can only use the general one pointed out by your letter."

KILRAVOCK CASTLE.

We now resume our tour. Eastwards, a few miles from Culloden, the three houses of Cantray, Holm, and Kilravock, stand pleasantly and picturesquely side by side, on the banks of the Nairn. The first is a handsome modern mansion: the grounds were laid out by the grandfather of the present proprietor; and it is worthy of remark, that, though this gentleman had resided chiefly in London, he astonished his neighbours by the judgment and spirit with which he entered upon a course of extensive agricultural improvement. His mantle seems to have descended on his grandson, who is an enthusiastic agriculturist. The mansion

house of Holm was built by the late Colonel Hugh Rose. The lawn in front descends close to the river, and is about fifty acres in extent; the walks are finely laid out; and the present proprietor, General Sir John Rose, continues the system of improvement and embellishment begun by his predecessor. The whole valley thus wears a smiling aspect.

The tourist may be justified in lingering some time among the ancient woods and pleasant walks of Kilravock. The castle is a large irregular pile, with a strong square tower, built, according to Shaw's History of Moray, in 1460, by a patent from the Earl of Ross. The structure altogether resembles a French chateau-high roofed, and blending the manor-house with the castle. The Roses of Kilravock are of great antiquity. Hugo de Roos, was the proprietor of Geddes in 1230, as appears from his signature to the original charter of Beauly Priory-and the present proprietor is, we believe, the seventeenth IIugh Rose of Kilravock. The family appear to have been always great planters; and accordingly, to this day, there has descended a goodly collection of venerable trees, and a wood, denominated "the birch ward," which is "hoar with antiquity." We were amused with an anecdote, illustrative of the woodland taste and propensities of the family. One laird, some two or three generations ago, wishing to raise money, was at last driven to consent that part of the timber on the estate should be sold. A purchaser came, and the laird accompanied him to the wood, where the aged oaks and ashes stood, like ancient members of the family, with their old familiar faces. The man of business pointed to one fine clump. "We must not cut that," said the laird; "they were planted by the Black Baron." The parties moved on, and another lot was selected. "We must pass over them," added the laird; "they were planted by Sonsy-Sides, the eleventh Hugh." Another choice was made. "It will never do to meddle with them,"

said the tenacious proprietor; "they were planted by the Fair Baron." Another was pitched upon, but they were also sacred-they were the Black Baron's; he was inarried five times, and every one of his wives planted trees. After various rebuffs- "Upon my word," said the merchant, "I think there is no use trying any more." "I believe you are right,” replied the laird; and they returned to the house, all idea of the sale being abandoned. And here still flourish some of the Black Baron's oaks, tossing their gnarled branches with patrician dignity over the birches and underwood, and challenging the admiration of passers by. When Burns the poet visited Kilravock in 1787, he particularly admired one of these trees, and it now bears the name of Burns' Oak. We made a sort of measurement of it, and should guess its girth near the ground to be about fifteen feet. The tree stands conspicuously on a knoll by the side of one of the paths. In the upper part of the wood there are some magnificent beeches, which are connected with recollections of another great man, Duncan Forbes. The President was attached to a member of the family of Kilravock, Miss Mary Rose (to whom he was afterwards married), and a large fragment of rock, lying at the edge of the beech avenue-grey and covered with moss-is pointed out as the place where the lovers used to meet. It has been said that Duncan Forbes wrote and addressed to this lady the verses beginning

"Ah! Chloris, could I now but sit

As unconcerned as when

Thy infant beauty could beget

No happiness nor pain."

It is a pity to dispel this pleasing illusion. The verses, however, were not written by Duncan Forbes, but by Sir Charles Sedley, and are included in a comedy by him, entitled "The

Mulberry Garden," published long before the birth of Forbes. The fair fame of the President can afford to want this sprig of laurel.

In one of his letters to Mrs Rose, Kilravock, Burns mentions the beautifully wild scenery of the place-the venerable grandeur of the castle-the spreading woods—and the winding river, gladly leaving his unsightly heathy source, and lingering with apparent delight as he passes the fairy walk at the bottom of the garden. Time has only lent new interest and beauty to the scene. The family, by whom the poet was received with courteous and refined hospitality, has been scattered and depressed; and the present representative of the house is in India. The castle, however, has fortunately, for the last nine or ten years, been occupied by an English lady, Mrs Campbell, who has evinced no less taste than munificence in adorning the ancient chateau, and heightening the natural beauties of the spot. In addition to many substantial improvements, in building, draining, planting, &c., which have been carried into effect by this lady, a new approach has been formed from the east, winding up by the river side, and another carriage road to the castle has been made from the west, superseding the stiff, abrupt, straight road which formerly led down to it. The lawn has been extended and improved-unsightly walls and encumbrances have been displaced—and a flower garden has been constructed, of the most exquisite description-the smooth shaven turf (on which no leaf or twiglet is suffered to intrude), being studded with beds of dahlias and other rich exotics, flaunting in their summer array. At the bottom of this floral retreat, which forms a continuation of the lawn, is the "fairy walk" to which Burns alluded. It is shaded by splendid lime and beech trees, and a chestnut of great dimensions, such as Salvator Rosa would have delighted to paint. "The chesnut," says good old tree-loving William

Gilpin, "in maturity and perfection, is a noble tree, and grows not unlike the oak. Its ramification is more straggling; but it is easy, and its foliage loose." Gilpin speculates as to the chestnut being ever indigenous in Britain; but we concur in the justice of a remark made by an enthusiastic naturalist, Mr William Laidlaw, that "it is not easy to suppose any tree to be indigenous in a climate where it does not ripen into fruit." This beautiful tree, must, however, have been early introduced into Scotland-it adorns many of our old baronial residences; and it has been remarked, that the beams and projections of many of the wooden houses which had stood for ages in the ancient part of the Scottish capital, and which were pulled down some years since, were found to be of chestnut. The roof of the Parliament House in Edinburgh is constructed of it. Under its leafy canopy, and resting on its noble trunk, we think the chesnut worthy the forests of Spain and the Appenines; and its introduction to this country does credit to the taste of our ancestors. As we sauntered in this dell at Kilravock at sunset, with the old tower jutting out above, and the river murmuring below, we could not help wondering that Burns had not been inspired to dedicate to Kilravock one of his immortal lyrics.

Mary Queen of Scots stopped at Kilravock on her return from Inverness, in the course of her hurried journey to the north in 1562. The proprietor at this time was a Hugh or Hutcheon Rose, the eighth laird, who would seem to have been somewhat of a humourist, as in a law paper still existing, a submission between him and two of his neighbours, he signs his name in the following fashion :-" Hutcheon Rose of Kilravock, ane honest man, ill-guided between you baith." At the period of the Rebellion, the old castle received a visit from Prince Charles Edward, two days before the battle of Culloden, and, according to the tradition of

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