“Is there, for honest poverty,
    That hangs his head, and a’ that? 
  The coward slave, we pass him by,
    We dare be poor for a’ that! 
    For a’ that, and a’ that,
    Our toils obscure, and a’ that,
  The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,
    The man’s the gowd for a’ that.

  “What tho’ on hamely fare we dine,
    Wear hoddin gray, and a’ that;
  Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
    A man’s a man for a’ that! 
    For a’ that, and a’ that,
    Their tinsel show, and a’ that,
  The honest man, though, e’er sae poor
    Is king o’ men for a’ that.

  “Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord,
    Wha struts, and stares, and a’ that;
  Tho’ hundreds worship at his word,
    He’s but a coof for a’ that;
    For a’ that, and a’ that,
    His ribbon, star, and a’ that,
  The man of independent mind,
    He looks and laughs at a’ that.

  “A prince can make a belted knight,
    A marquis, duke, and a’ that;
  But an honest man’s aboon his might
    Guid faith, he maunna fa’ that! 
    For a’ that, and a’ that,
    Their dignities, and a’ that,
  The pith o’ sense and pride o’ worth
    Are higher ranks than a’ that.

  “Then let us pray that, come it may,
    As come it will for a’ that,
  That sense and worth, o’er a’ the earth,
    May bear the gree, and a’ that;
    For a’ that, and a’ that,
    It’s coming yet for a’ that,
  That man to man, the wide warld o’er,
    Shall brothers be for a’ that.”

And, having finished this prophecy and prayer, Nature’s nobleman left his churlish entertainers to hide their diminished heads in the home they had disgraced.

We have seen all the stock lions.  The Regalia people still crowd to see, though the old natural feelings from which they so long lay hidden seem almost extinct.  Scotland grows English day by day.  The libraries of the Advocates, Writers to the Signet, &c., are fine establishments.  The University and schools are now in vacation; we are compelled by unwise postponement of our journey to see both Edinburgh and London at the worst possible season.  We should have been here in April, there in June.  There is always enough to see, but now we find a majority of the most interesting persons absent, and a stagnation in the intellectual movements of the place.

We had, however, the good fortune to find Dr. Andrew Combe, who, though a great invalid, was able and disposed for conversation at this time.  I was impressed with great and affectionate respect by the benign and even temper of his mind, his extensive and accurate knowledge, accompanied, as such should naturally be, by a large and intelligent liberality.  Of our country he spoke very wisely and hopefully, though among other stories with which we, as Americans, are put to the blush here, there is none worse than that of the conduct of some of our publishers toward him.