The walls remain nearly entire, but the interior was totally destroyed by fire, during one of the civil feuds. The town, as well as that of Falkirk, a few miles beyond, is dull and gloomy. Some of the old houses in Falkirk were once occupied by the knights of St. John, who had a preceptory near the place. The field where the great battle was fought, in which Wallace was defeated, is a short distance from the town. I reached Edinburgh at ten P. M., in the canal-boat from Glasgow, which goes at the rate of nine miles an hour, and landed under the batteries of the castle; having passed the most of a week, of delightful weather, among the most interesting parts of Scotland. I have been agreeably surprised at the evident marks of industry and prosperity which are almost every where apparent. The Scotch are notoriously shrewd, industrious, and thriving; but we yankees, like other nations, are apt to think ourselves far before the rest of the world in 'inventions and improvements;' and though a foreigner would sneer at my presumption, I have really felt pleased when I have seen any thing abroad 'pretty nearly' as good as _we_ can show at home. It is folly, at the same time, for us to flatter ourselves that we can in no wise take profitable example from our father-land! FOOTNOTES: [2] The 'Fairport' of the 'Antiquary.' Within the last twelve years, it has doubled in size and importance. [3] 'Father!' she cried: 'the rocks around Love to prolong the gentle sound!' [4] This office, as is well known, is now held by SIR ROBERT PEEL. SONNETS: BY 'QUINCE.' ADVERSITY. WE sometimes strike the madman to the earth, And mercy deals the pain-inflicting blow, That body's suffering may give reason birth, And with slight anguish mitigate much wo. When 'neath the surgeon's hand the patient lies, Whose mortifying limb requires the knife, With fortitude he bears his agonies, Nor heeds the torture that will save his life. Thus heaven doth strike us with adversity, Thus should we bow to its omniscient will; Then through dark clouds bright sunshine we should see And sweetest comfort draw from direst ill. All is not sad, that to us seems to be, Nor all adverse, we call adversity. AGES. AGES! to trace thy path, my curious eye Pierces the vista of forgotten time: Ye awe me with your vast sublimity, Ye moving mysteries, that will consign The breathing form that wonders at your might, Like unto myriads o'er whom ye have swept, To the dark lethe of impris'ning night; Where I must sleep, and where they long have slept. Like the majestic ocean's waves ye roll, Which o'er the sweetest, fondest memories ride, Slow journeying toward your destined goal, With all of earth mysteriously allied. Sweep on, Time's chroniclers! yourselves shall be Engulphed at last in vast eternity! ANGELS.