vithout any regard to the dignity of his crown; vithout any love to his people; dissolute, false, enal, and destitute of any positive good quaity whatsoever, except a pleasant temper, and the manners of a gentleman. It is curious to observe what a number of the Royal have lately died. A king of Sweden has just made his exit, and left his throne to a soldier of fortune-then follow a queen of Portugal, an heiress presumptive of England, and numberless petty German legitimates, whose states are not much larger than some of our American farms! Then depart a queen of England, (a stingy, narrow-minded, snuff-taking baggage,) a queen of Spain, a queen of Wirtemberg, and an old queen of Spain, with her husband Charles IV. This old queen, (mother of the embroiderer,) was one of the most notorious royal strumpets in Europebut as she was legitimate, we shall probably hear of a long string of virtues which she possessed. I will admit that she is as reasonably entitled to the epithet of chaste, as the most gracious queen Charlotte is to that of generous and liberal! I will close this medley with a description. of the markets of Edinburgh, which are situated on a series of terraces, extending gradually to the slope of the North Loch. The most beautiful of these establishments is the Flower Market, which displays the flowers of the season in all their brilliant colours. The variety of hues and the native perfumes exhaled from the roses, jonquils and hyacinths, produce the most agreeable effect. The different vases of flowers are arranged in a sort of amphitheatre, which presents the idea of the tiers of boxes at the play-house, crowded with fashion and beauty. The rose, blushing amidst its dewbespangled leaves, the lily bearing its snowy bosom to the wanton air, the crimson-tipped daisy and the tulip-unfold their silken leaves to the zephyrs, and to the variegated butterflies that flutter around them, and drink their bright sparkling dew. There is a singular contrast between the juvenile freshness of the flowers, and the senilis inertia of the old women who sell them. In this market, the observer forgets for a moment that he is in the midst of a populous city; but the harsh voices of the venders of the flowery ware soon undeceive hin: he finds himself surrounded by hucksters; he is entirely disenchanted! In the evening, I often walk through this market to enjoy the perfumes breathed from plants that wake while others sleep, from the jasmins for instance which, as Moore beautifully observes, keep "Their odour to themselves all day, To every breeze that roams about." Walking down one of the closes of High street towards North Loch, you fall into the Vegetable Market, which presents a pleasing aspect. This market is a square surrounded by an infinity of stalls, which are well stored with all that vegetable nature produces. The cauly-flowers with their fringed luxuriant tops -the love-apples bursting with the healthful juices which tinge them with the deepest vermillion-and the speckled gourd jutting from the leaves like a basking snake-are arranged with a very pleasing symmetry. The lover of the Scotch dialect should visit this place; he will hear the native language spoken in all its original sweetness! Proceeding onwards, you will find yourself surrounded with butchers' stalls, from which the meat is suspended. The poor animal which is to be sacrificed to human voracity, is hauled before the axe which is to terminate his existence; dogs, almost as brutal as their masters, tear the checkered face and trembling sides of the devoted victim, whilst the butchers' boys goad him on to the house of death, which is always streaming with blood. I have often thought that many an assassin has "stopped up th' access and passage to remorse" in walking through a slaughter-house, and coming home with his shoes covered with blood. He had heard the groans of the dying animal, without feeling for its sufferings; and perhaps he was on that account less troubled with compunctious visitings, when the stifled screams of his victim rose to avert "the murderous faulchion smoking in his blood." Below the slaughter-houses is the Fish Market. Edinburgh and Scotland generally, greatly excels in this delicacy: the haddock, turbot, salmon and trout are the principal fish seen on the long tables of this market. The Scotch poissardes appear to form a variety in the human species. The "wrinkled hag with age grown double" of Chamont, and the "weird sisters" of Macbeth, have their prototypes in the markets of Edinburgh. The old hags, who preside at this establishment, do not "seem aught that man may question;" "So wither'd, and so wild in their attire; That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, I do not think that I will ever forget the impression which one of these hoary matrons made on me, when I suddenly met her near Edinburgh. She looked so much like one of those horrid beings who "yell in the midnight storm, or ride infuriate in the flood," that her appearance made me shudder:-her face was not simply wrinkled, but ploughed into innumerable furrows; her jaws could not boast of one remaining tooth, and she was dressed as if her clothes had been flung on her with a pitchfork! Most of these fish-women come from the villages of New-haven and Fisherrow, from whence they arrive with their commodities at early dawn; and after disposing of their fish, return home in the evening, with their empty recipients. They are said to be very strong; indeed three or four of our negroes together, could not carry such a weight as one of these picturesque Amazons. Their costume is so outlandish, that I will not pretend to describe it; some modern Hogarth would do well to give a representation of it, as a pendant to some of those exquisite delineations of the great painter, which I read with as much pleasure as I would a novel of Lesage or Madame Darblay! The ladies and gentlemen of Edinburgh send their stewards or cooks to market for their families. The keepers of taverns and eatinghouses are the earliest buyers; they come from all parts at the dawn of day, and carry off the cheapest and best things, which they metamorphose into very expensive dinners. When the rich man's steward comes "creeping like snail," he must content himself with the tavern-keepers' leavings-but he knows who has to pay for the contents of his basket-he is well aware that his master does not deign to inquire into the price of market articles.-As the day advances, those unfortunate beings who are condemned, by the last night's debauch, to spin out the morning on their miserable beds, advance in their dishabilles to purchase food for the day. They are insulted, cheated, and sent back with the refuse of the stalls. See the wretch making her way through the crowd! Her looks are haggard, her cheeks sunk with care and disease; her countenance is no longer dressed up with delusive charms, nor imitates the hue of health with meretri |