They therefore take leases of ground which shall endure till the end of the world, and think themselves very badly off, indeed, when they are restricted to the brief period of nine hundred and ninety-nine years! These perpetual leases they term feus, an expression importing that the lessee becomes feudal vassal of the ground landlord. "Ground to Feu," is therefore to be found on hundreds of signboards north of the Tweed, and to English visitants appears quite an incomprehensible announcement. Edinburgh and its vicinity, the annual feu-duty is enormous, amounting sometimes to a charge of a guinea for every foot of ground in front; and this has to be paid annually for ever, under the penalty of loss of the property.

In

One good results from this peculiar conduct on the part of the Scotch: it tends to encourage a superior kind of architectural designs, and greatly improves the general aspect of the country. There can be no proper comparison of the beauty of stone and brick, and the Scotch act very wisely in building stone houses, if they can afford the cost: but the general exercise of this refined taste has an injurious effect on society, and is spoiling the large towns in the north. It limits the proprietary to a mere unit; raises up a body of large capitalists over the people, who are reduced to the character of yearly tenants; and prolongs the very absurd custom of dividing houses into separate dwellings on the different floors. For example, there are few merchants, tradesmen, or shopkeepers in the large towns in Scotland, who live in what are termed self-contained houses; for the simple reason, that they cannot afford to build, or even rent, a complete stone mansion. Yet they can frequently purchase a flat; that is, a house up two, three, or four stairs; whereas, for the sum they thus expend for a confined lodging, they could erect a sufficient brick house from top to bottom, calculated to last during the whole period of their own lives, and those of their immediate descendants. But the prejudices of society forbid that any such course should be pursued. No, no; do

not tell me of your shabby brick houses; give me a good flat in a respectable part of the town, where we have no trouble with area doors, or are bothered to keep the roof in order, and I will leave those to go to self-contained houses that like them better, or are silly enough to pay them."

for

THE BLUFF MUTTONEER.

Tantus amor ovis, atque gloria!-VIRGIL.

You may talk of your dandies, your bloods, and fine fellows,
And of all the gay creatures of Princes Street tell us ;
But in my estimation there's none that can peer
With that jolly good fellow, the Bluff Muttoneer.

Derry down, down, down derry down.
The Bluff Muttoneer! would you have him before ye,
In all his majestic proportions and glory?

Do you wish that the genuine man should appear?
Then look, and I'll show you the Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

More sturdy than tall, to the fat just inclining;
A belly whose jet shows some good capon lining;
A swell derriere, over which dangle clear
The gaucy coat-tails of the Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

A visage as broad and as bright as the moon,
When she rises in autumn nine nights alike soon;
And, like her when half-risen, half-hid, you would swear,
In the web round the neck of the Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

A hat o'er this visage cocks somewhat ajee,

As it was in the year eighteen hundred and three;
A mouth for a joke, and an eye for a leer,

And a cane in the hand of the Bluff Muttoneer.

Derry down, &c.

And then of the causeway he walks on the crown,
With a sough in the air, would knock any man down ;
My faith, ye had better take care how ye steer,
When ye come near the track of the Bluff Muttoneer!

Derry down, &c.

For every thing's big 'bout this wonderful blade-
His look is a stare, and his voice a cascade;
Ye had better shake hands wi' a Spitzbergen bear,
Or with a smith's vice, than a Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

Yet the Bluff Muttoneer has his softnesses too;
To the friends of his heart he's both kindly and true;
And good wether mutton he holds very dear,
And he's had his attachments-the Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

On port, now, and mutton, are placed his affections,
And for meaner things he has few predilections;
That he still "likes the gi'ls," he sometimes will swear,
But it's all to no good with the Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

Should you ask him to dine, yet, forgetting his taste,
Give him only some kickshaws surrounded with paste;
Alas, my good friend, they'd be viewed with a sneer,
Being nought in the hands of a Bluff Muttoneer.

Derry down, &c.

In case such an error you e'er should commit,
I'll tell you what things will his appetite hit,
So that you may invite him, without any fear
Of affronting and starving the Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

Just have a good jigot-be sure it's a wether-
Five-year-old-Teviot fed-and a smack of the heather;
A glass of good sherry-a glass of good beer-
Then port, at the will of the Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

See him planted at table with knife and with fork,
With what practised expertness he gets through his work!
How he knows when the moment of gorging is near,
And fills to a hair-breadth-the Bluff. Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

With what constitutional horror he sees

Fellows keeping a corner for pancakes or cheese!
Such vile disregard of the principal cheer

Seems treason-or worse-to the Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

After dinner he talks of some Jockey Club case,
Or what yesternight at the Shakie* took place!
Or he sings them a song with his whistle so clear,
"If they'll join in the chorus”—the Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

His songs are the songs of his own early day,

"Dear Tom, this brown jug," or, "In Trafalgar Bay;" Such things as 66 Young Love," or the "Calm Bendemeer," Are all tol de rol lol with the Bluff Muttoneer.

Derry down, &c.

When at nine the young men make a move from their chairs,
And say something 'bout joining the ladies up stairs,
He gives them a look that their livers might spear,
And "the more I won't come," thinks the Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

At length when the time has roll'd on to eleven,
He ends with a glee, "To Anacreon in Heaven;"
And beginning to feel rather muzzy and queer,
Home staggers in glory the Bluff Muttoneer.
Derry down, &c.

THE LAND OF BURNS.

THIS phrase is used in reference to that district of Ayrshire, in Scotland, which has been consecrated by the history and writings of Robert Burns. It has happened, in the natural course of things, that, though the ingenious Bard of Ayrshire lived the life of a poor man, and perished, it may be said, miserably, in the very prime of his intellect and natural years, yet, as his productions have rather increased than diminished in fame, every little circumstance connected with him has now become matter of far greater interest and attention than what was bestowed, perhaps,

A house which formerly existed under the name of Shakspeare's Tavern, near the Theatre-Royal Edinburgh-a great house

-"in the year eighteen hundred and three."

upon the man himself in his own lifetime. We therefore propose giving an account of the scenery of his birthplace, and of some of his most remarkable poems, in the hope that it may be the means of directing many a pilgrim's foot to what must certainly be described as one of the most endeared parts of all the romantic land of our fathers.

The county of Ayr constitutes a large part of the western coast of Scotland, to the south of the embouchure of the Clyde. Forming one large inclined plane towards the sea. it is intersected in its breadth by several rivers, such as the Irvine, the Ayr, and the Doon, all of which are rich in poetical association. The mouths of the Ayr and Doon approach within two miles of each other; and at the point where the former joins the sea, is situate the town of Ayr, having a finely cultivated country in one direction, and in the other a firth, bounded in the distance by the magnificent hills of Arran and Argyllshire. The choice part of the land scenery and of this Burns seems to have been fully aware is to be found on the banks of the rivers, especially the Ayr, which is certainly the means of forming a beautiful tract of woodlands. The Doon was the river of Burns's boyhood; the Ayr, of his youth and manhood.

BANKS OF DOON.

The poet was born in a clay-built and thatched cottage, on the highway which leads from Ayr to the southern parts of the county, and about two miles and a half from that town. Connected with it may still be traced the very small farm which the poet's father cultivated; and at a little distance is the ruin of Alloway Kirk, formerly a parochial place of worship, but long left to decay, on account of the parish being annexed to that of Ayr. The road, immediately after passing the cottage and the ruined church, crosses the Doon, by a modern bridge of one arch; and at the distance of a hundred yards farther up the river, is the Auld Brig," so noted for its concern in the tale of Tam o'Shanter; a high narrow structure, after the fashion of a