Some attention yet remains to be paid to the delightful walks which pervade these most interesting localities. The public walks in Stirling are quite matchless in Scotland. The oldest of them is one which was begun in 1723, along the top of the rock which skirts the town to the south-west, and immediately under the wall which formerly fortified the town in that quarter. It was a Mr Edmonstoun, of Cambus-Wallace, who had the taste and public spirit to commence this work, which the magistrates completed about the end of the century. Since then, the walk has been extended round the back of the castle rock, and along the skirts of the Gowlan Hills, so as to make them a sort of inverted amphitheatre for seeing all the objects around Stirling. It is thus possible to see an amazing multiplicity of interesting objects within the space of about a mile of walk. Beginning at the old walk under the town-wall, the spectator sees, first, Bannockburn and Gillies Hill, the scenery of Bruce’s famous victory, and the field of Sauchie, which terminated the reign of the unfortunate James III.; near at hand, the steeple of Ninian’s church, deprived of its attendant place of worship, in 1746, by Prince Charles’ Highlanders, who blew it up after using it as a powder magazine; farther to the west, Touch House, still the seat of a branch of the Seton family, who were the King’s armour-bearers; then Craigforth, a beautifully wooded hill, rising abruptly from the plain, and having a bold precipice presented to the west (_PLATE V._); then the Teith, the Allan, and the Links of the Forth in all their windings. In the remoter parts of the scene, the spectator sees Benlomond, and his grand fraternity of lesser brothers, including Benledi, and Benvoirlich, which give an inconceivably magnificent air to the picture. Here it is curious to consider, that, from the castle above you, you can see, on one hand, the towers of academic, polished, intellectual Edinburgh, a place where civilization may be said to be carried to a pitch of exquisite perfection, while, on the other, you gaze on an alpine region where the people yet wear part of the dress, and mostly speak the language which obtained in Europe, before even the early ages of Grecian and Roman refinement. It is strange, thus to link together the extremes of human society,—thus to associate the nineteenth century before Christ, and the nineteenth century after him, for no less remote from each other, in reality, are the ideas arising from a view of Edinburgh and of the Highlands. But, it is not alone the objects at a distance from Stirling, that constitute the pleasure of a promenade over its walks. The objects more nearly at hand, come in for an immense share of this pleasure. ‘Who can look,’ says a citizen of Stirling, in an eloquent letter upon this very subject, ‘who can look upon our castle, and its palace, and noble park, upon the Royal Gardens and their celebrated Table, upon the Ladies’ Hill and the