Driimlanrig Castle. 253 



has many attractions indeed. Our drive to-day lay 

 along the Nith and through the Duke of Buccleugh's 

 grounds to his noble seat, Drumlanrig Castle. Here we 

 have a real castle at last ; none of your imported English 

 affairs, as tame as caged tigers. How poor and insignifi- 

 cant they all seem to such as this ! You want the 

 moors, the hills and glens, and all the flavor of feudal 

 institutions to give a castle its dignity and impress you 

 with the thoughts of by-gone days. Modern castles in 

 England built to order are only playthings, toys ; but in 

 Scotland they are real and stir the chords. You can- 

 not have in England a glen worthy of the name, with 

 its dark amber-brown, foaming, rushing torrent dashing 

 through it. We begin to feel the exhilarating influences 

 of the North as we drive on, and to understand its charm. 

 Byron says truly : 



" England ! thy beauties are tame and domestic 

 To one who has roamed on the mountains afar. 

 Oh, for the crags that are wild and majestic ! 

 The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr." 



This was the feeling upon the coach to-day. My 

 eyes watered now and then and my heart beat faster as 

 the grandeur of the scenery and the influences around 

 came into play. This was my land, England only a far- 

 off connection, not one of the family. " And what do 

 you think of Scotland noo ? " was often repeated. " The 

 grandest day yet ! " was said more than once as we drove 

 through the glen ; but this has been said so often dur- 



