a single word; we all sat like so many owls of different species, as if afraid of one another, and on the qui vive, all as dull as the barren country I travelled this day. A few glimpses of dwarflike yellow pines here and there seemed to wish to break the dreariness of this portion of Scotland, but the attempt was in vain, and I sat watching the crows that flew under the dark sky foretelling winter's approach. I arrived here too late to see any portion of the town, for when the coach stopped at the Black Bull all was so dark that I could only see it was a fine, broad, long street.
November 8. I am off to-morrow morning, and perhaps forever will say farewell to Glasgow. I have been here four days and have obtained one subscriber. One subscriber in a city of 150,000 souls, rich, handsome, and with much learning. Think of 1400 pupils in one college! Glasgow is a fine city; the Clyde here is a small stream crossed by three bridges. The shipping consists of about a hundred brigs and schooners, but I counted eighteen steam vessels, black, ugly things as ever were built. One sees few carriages, but thousands of carts.
Edinburgh, November 9. In my old lodgings, after a journey back from the "City of the West" which was agreeable enough, all the passengers being men of intellect and social natures.
November 10. I left this house this morning an hour and a half before day, and pushed off for the sea-shore, or, as it is called, The Firth. It was calm and rather cold, but I enjoyed it, and reached Professor Jameson's a few minutes before breakfast. I was introduced to the "Lord of Ireland," an extremely intelligent person and an enthusiast in zoölogical researches; he had been a great traveller, and his conversation was highly interesting. In the afternoon I went to the summit of Arthur's Seat; the day was then beautiful and the extensive view cheered my spirits.
