L'Ecosse. Par Marie Anne de Bovet. Illustre par G. Vuillier.
(Librairie Hachette et Cie., Paris. 30 francs.)— This is a pleasantly written account of a holiday in Scotland. We say holiday, for the writer never overburdens herself with toilsome sightseeing, nor us with guide-book facts. She starts at Abbotsford, and the red thread of the Waverley Novels runs through the volume. She then makes her way through Edinburgh and Fife to St. Andrews, where she falls in with the golf-players, of whom she speaks with shuddering admiration as being bold enough to spend hours on the cold sea- shore, not only boys and girls, but grave and reverend Signors, among whom she particularly mentions Mr. Balfour, almost with enthusiasm. The description of her journey from Dunkeld to Braemar in a crowded mail-coach is lively, and she gives two pieces of advice to the intending traveller,—provide yourself with wraps and mackintoshes, and do not be haughty to your travel- ling companions. She says that the idea that the English are stiff and disagreeable to strangers is wrong, and she bravely defends us from the charge, and describes our good qualities, at the risk, as she says, of being herself accused of romancing. There are good illustrations on nearly every page of the book, and it is nicely printed with wide margins, but we wish the binding was a little more substantial.
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