descendant of a Highland Chieftain, who once fed, and could muster for war, an army of 3000 men. The estates of the present Duke are almost boundless in point of territory, though in part made up of barren rocks and irreclaimable fells. His house has little else than its size to recommend it, being naked of trees, and its exterior destitute of ornament. The mountains in this vicinity are lofty, presenting a wild and savage aspect. Among the highest are Ben Vracky, and Ben-y-Gloe. Several deep glens open into them towards the east, affording channels for streams, or rather torrents, which dash headlong over the rocks, and form the sources of the Tay. In their descent from the hills, they present a succession of cataracts, celebrated for beauty rather than grandeur, as the quantity of water is generally small. Burns visited one of these cascades, called the Falls of Bruar, not far from the road. Finding them exposed to the glare of a summer sun, and without foliage to give them picturesque beauty, he wrote a poetical petition to the proprietor, that the barren waste around might be planted with trees. The prayer of the muse was at least for once granted, and a fine forest now adorns the brow of the hill down which the cascade descends.

It would be an ungrateful task to retrace our progress, stage by stage, across the Grampian Hills, which for many miles afforded little variety of scenery or incident, although from the novelty of the tract and its classical associations, the ride was far from being uninteresting. The whole region is wild, desolate, and inhospitable, with undulating mountains of a uniform elevation, and extending on all sides as far as the eye can reach. They are generally clothed to their summits with a coat of brown heath, which at a distance gives them a dark purple or bluish aspect, not unlike the waves of the sea. We travelled for hours, with very slight variations of our horizon. Along the road, which is smooth, but of course very hilly, are a few scattered houses and cottages, often built of no other material than turf, with a solitary door and without a window. Groups of these huts were sometimes observed; and in the whole village not a wooden frame, a brick, or a pane of glass was to be seen. A happy equality of penury seemed to prevail, and no one had reason to be envious of the comforts of his neighbour.

Farther from the road, the aspect of the waste is still more cheerless. Hill rises above hill, and range after range, in

perfect desolation. The eye searches in vain for a dwelling of any kind. Sometimes a smoke is seen curling above the heath, and a group of Highland shepherds, perhaps the descendants of "Young Norval," are wrapped in their plaids and encamped by the fire, with their dogs sleeping by their sides. Several pictures of this description met our observation in the course of the day. Nearly all the people scattered over this wide district, finding temporary abodes in the defiles of mountains, lead a pastoral, and often a wandering life. Great numbers of them were seen upon the road, driving their flocks, herds of small black cattle, and Shetland ponies, to a southern market. They uniformly wear the Highland cap, and the plaid, which, in pleasant weather, is folded up. and thrown like a broad sash across the shoulders. Among themselves they always speak the Gaelic language, and many of them cannot understand a word of English. Even our drivers, and the hostlers at the inns jabbered away in a dialect which to us was perfectly unintelligible. The language abounds in gutturals; but the tones of the Highland voice are extremely clear and musical.

One

Upon the height of land between Dunkeld and Inverness, we passed Loch Garry, which is a small lake, with a narrow border of green, slumbering at the base of one of the loftiest of the Grampians, which sometimes rise to an elevation of about four thousand feet above the level of the sea. of our travelling companions informed us, that here a curious combat once took place between two Highland chieftains. The weaker party plunged into the lake to escape his antagonist, who soon followed, and they there fought with swords, keeping their heads above water, till the contest was decided. Not far from this place, Charles Edward Stuart,

loden.

took refuge in a cave, after the battle of Cul

From the height of land, the scenery begins to soften, and traces of cultivation appear on the borders of the deep vale, which opens towards the north, and which frequently presents a magnificent vista of mountains. The valley is called Badenock, and was the country of the M'Phersons, one of the most numerous and warlike of the Highland clans. It is watered by the Spey, which in several places spreads into small lakes. On the shore of one of these, denominated Loch Alvie, is the cemetery of the Lairds of Cluny, where the former chieftains of the Grampian Hills repose.

At Pitmain we obtained a comfortable dinner, and soon after arrived at Belleville, the seat of James M'Pherson, Esq. son of the translator, or author, as the case may be, of Ossian's Poems. Here that celebrated work, the origin of which is not entirely free from doubt, was prepared for the press. It is a handsome seat, occupying an elevated situation on the slope of the mountain, and commanding a wide prospect into the vale. A neat monument in memory of the translator has been erected in the grounds near the house, beautifully shaded with trees. It is a cenotaph, as M'Pherson died and Iwas buried in London. His son had business with the coachman, and stood some time at the gate, affording us a fair opportunity to see him. He is a good looking man, apparently at the age of about fifty, and is said to possess a literary turn, although he has never distinguished himself by his talents.

In the course of this afternoon, we met the Duke of Bedford in his carriage, with a lady, travelling towards the south in great style, having several outriders. He has a shooting lodge near Belleville, where his Grace has been amusing himself in killing woodcocks, in company with his brotherin-law, the Marquis of Huntley. A great fete was given a few days since in honour of his presence, when there was a general mustering of the clans.

Soon after passing Belleville, night closed upon us, leaving about thirty miles to be travelled in the dark. From all I could learn, we lost little, except a view of Loch Moy, so near the road, that the reflection of the stars could be seen on its quiet bosom. It is a small lake, with an island in the middle, which belonged to the clan of M'Intosh. For some time the coachman drove up and down these hills, where there are frequent terraces in the road, without lights to guide him, and to the no small peril of eight or ten passengers seated upon the top. Fortunately we reached Inverness at 11 o'clock, without accident, and with some difficulty succeeded in finding lodgings, after a ride of 114 miles during the day.

On Sunday the 2d, we attended the principal Kirk, and heard a very eloquent and excellent sermon by the Rev. Mr. Fraser. It breathed the true spirit of the Gospel, inculcating the virtues of humility, meekness, charity, and good-will towards others, and was entirely free from those illiberal principles and austere notions of piety which have been

imputed to some of the Presbyterians of Scotland. The audience was numerous, well-dressed, and remarkably attentive to the services, following the preacher while reading a daily portion of Scripture, and singing the psalms in general chorus. A peculiar plainness is generally observed in the construction and furniture of the Kirks in this country. There is no display of architectural taste; the galleries, and sometimes the pulpits are unpainted; and the pews are upon a large scale, with few of the usual appendages. In the one to which we were conducted, and which is of the same dimensions as the others, there were twenty persons, who sat without being crowded.

46

A tablet on the wall opposite to my seat forcibly attracted attention, and did not bespeak a very liberal spirit in the citizens of Inverness towards the Americans. It was erected in memory of a Mr. Inglis, formerly a merchant at Savannah, Georgia. The inscription states, that he was murdered by a band of ruffians, hired by the execrable Congress," on account of his fidelity to his king and country, while he was living with a friend near Charleston, SouthCarolina. I do not recollect the story of this Mr. Inglis, in the history of our revolution; but it is probable he was a Tory, and shared the fate of some of his brethren. Certain it is, that the monument is a disgrace to the church, bearing upon its face a falsehood and a malice towards "the execrable Congress" of 1776, as impotent as it is ill-suited to the walls of a sanctuary. I am willing, however, to believe that the epitaph expresses sentiments entertained of our government half a century ago, rather than at the present time.

Just at evening, which was delightfully pleasant, with bright skies and an air breathing a delicious softness, we walked to a hill called Craig Phadric, a mile to the west of the town, and climbed to its top. It swells to the height of upwards of eleven hundred feet above the plain, and presents a magnificent view of the adjacent country. To the north innumerable peaks of the Ross-shire mountains bound the horizon: towards the north-east, Moray Firth spreads in a broad and silver sheet, till it mingles with the German Ocean: on the south, the dark and sterile ridges of the Grampians terminate the view: and on the west are seen several woody eminences, among which is the keel-shaped "Hill of Fairies."

The landscape, forming the foreground of the picture, is

rich, rural, and highly picturesque. At a short distance in an easterly direction, the town of Inverness, with its several spires and domes, is seen pleasantly situated on both sides of the river Ness, which after many windings through a fertile vale unites with the waters of Beauly and falls into Moray Firth. Within less than half a mile of Craig Phadric, a curious eminence, called Tomnahenrick, rises like an island from the flat alluvial plain. Its shape is oblong, resembling an immense tumulus, and its sides are thinly shaded with evergreens. The Great Caledonian Canal passes between the two hills, adding variety to the scenery below.

At the foot and half way up the acclivities of Craig Phadric are deep forests of pine. Its brow is composed of naked rocks; and on the very top are the ruins of an old fort,

overgrown with a tuft of trees. The ramparts of this for

tress consists of vitrified stone, globules of which hang from the wall, and bear evident marks of having once been in a state of fusion. I am not sufficiently versed in the antiquities of the country, to explain the phenomenon, which has occasioned a good deal of speculation among philosophers. Similar relics are found in other parts of Scotland. The most rational supposition seems to be, that these elevated fortresses were used as beacons, and that the intensity of the watch-fires, kept burning for a long time, was sufficient to vitrify the walls.

In winding down from the summit of the hill, we accidentally stumbled upon Fingal's Chair, which is a natural niche in the rock, where tradition says the hero used to sit and survey the mountains of his empire. Some mushrooms growing near the spot led an old Highland guide, who had voluntarily joined us at the foot of the hill, to remark that he had eaten many of those in America. On being interro

gated, he stated that he served in all the campaigns on the Niagara and the northern frontier of the United States during the last war. Stripping up his trowsers, he showed a wound which he received in the leg, at the battle of Lundy's Lane, with the scene and particulars of which he was familiar, adding by way of comment that it was the hardest fighting he had ever witnessed, although he had twice before been wounded. One of our party, assuming the guise of an Englishman, remarked, "but the Americans behaved in rather a cowardly manner." "No," said the veteran, with