The ride from Edinburgh is through a farming district, and strongly reminds one of southern New England. As the reader anticipates, we are to stop at Melrose for two purposes; to visit the ruins of its abbey, and to make the short tour of five miles to Abbotsford. The town of Melrose is intensely rural and charming. In 1851 it had a population of 7,487. It has a number of small and comfortable hotels, and carriages are on hire at reasonable prices. There are avenues for rambling; and at the border-line is a grand hill, which stretches along the entire length of the village. The road winds along the hill at a good elevation, and displays to advantage the valley of the Tweed and the hills on the opposite side, from three to five miles away. In the level parts of the great valley the land is under excellent cultivation, though largely devoted to grazing. The groves, the heavy woodlands, and the single trees which remain from the primeval forest are arranged with scrupulous care and a view to the picturesque. It would seem that one like Scott could not help being inspired by scenes like these. As one considers beautiful Edinburgh, he gets the impression that _there_ is the more befitting residence for the great romancer; but once in Melrose, and on the top of these lovely hills, he feels that here Scott was in his element. Our first step was to go to a hotel, dine, and determine the proper course for sight-seeing. Talking the matter over with our hostess we were advised to join a party of two or three others, take a team, and go first to Abbotsford, and stop on our way back at the abbey, which was in fact but a few minutes' walk from the hotel. The advice was accepted, and we were soon on the way to Abbotsford.