was the peculiar complexion of the water, which is cerulean, and differs several shades from that of the other Scottish lakes. Its hue is probably modified by the verdure upon the shores, as well as by the geological structure of its bed, in which there is little or no mud. Like some of our own pellucid waters, it is a Naiad of the purest kind, sleeping on coral and crystal couches. Its blue tinge was doubtless in some degree heightened by the distance whence it was first descried, as well as by the deep azure of the skies after the late storm.

Hastening to the shore, we waited some time for the oarsmen, who accompanied us from Loch Lomond, to bring out their boat from behind a little promontory, which for aught I know, was the very place where Rob Roy and Ellen Douglas used to hide their canoes. There is no house within several miles of the landing. The only building of any kind is a small temporary hut, of rude construction, serving as a poor shelter in case of rain. As this lake has become a fashionable resort, one would suppose the number of travellers would justify the expense of a boatman's house, which would relieve the oarsmen from the trouble of walking half a dozen miles, and the tourist from the vexation of paying for it.

At 2 o'clock in the afternoon, seven of us, including the boat's crew embarked, and commenced a voyage to the foot of the lake, a distance of nine miles in a south-eastern direction. Winds and waves both conspired to accelerate our progress, and no Highland bark probably ever bounded more merrily over the blue billows. The cone of Ben-Lomond rapidly receded, and Ben-venue and Ben-an, on opposite sides of the outlet, came more fully in view. At the head, Glengyle opens prettily from the north-west, with serrated hills forming the lofty ramparts of the pass, in the entrance of which is a seat belonging to one of the descendants of Rob Roy M'Gregor. The width of the lake is about two miles, with deeply indented shores, which are generally bold and romantic, exhibiting occasionally scattered houses and patches of cultivation, particularly on the north-eastern borders. Our course was nearest the south-western side, touching at one little desolate promontory, to exchange boats, and often approaching so close, as to enable us to examine the scanty growth upon the margin.

In about two hours from the time of embarkation, we

reached Ellen's Island, near the outlet; and half encircling the green eminence, rising beautifully from the bosom of the lake, our Highland mariners made a port in the identical little bay, where the far-famed heroine was wont to moor her skiff, fastening it to an oak, which still hangs its aged arms over the flood. This miniature harbour is also signalized, as the place where Helen Stuart cut off the head of one of Cromwell's soldiers. As the story goes, all the women and children fled hither for refuge. After a decisive victory, one of the veterans of the Protector attempted to swim to the island for a boat, with an intention of pillaging and laying waste the asylum; but as he approached the shore the above mentioned heroine, stepped from her ambuscade, and with one stroke of her dirk decapitated the marauder, thus rescuing her narrow dominion with its tenants from destruction.

The Island is small and rises perhaps fifty feet above the water. It rests on a basis of granite, covered with a thin coat of earth, through which the rocks occasionally appear, and which affords scanty nutriment to a growth of oak, birch, and mountain ash. The red berries of the latter hung gracefully over the cliffs, in many places shaded with brown heath. A winding pathway leads to the summit, which is beautifully tufted, and affords a charming view of the surrounding hills and waters.

In a little secluded copse near the top stands Ellen's Bower, fashioned exactly according to the description of the same object in the Lady of the Lake. Those who are curious to form a minute and accurate image of it, have only to turn to that picture. The exterior is composed of unhewn logs or sticks of fir, fantastically arranged, with a thatched, moss-covered roof, and skins of beasts converted into semitransparent parchment for windows. Every thing within is in rustic style. A living aspen grows in the centre, and supports the ceiling. Upon its branches hangs a great variety of ancient armour, with trophies of the chase. Here may be seen the Lochaber axe, Rob Roy's dirk, and sundry other curiosities. A table strewed with leaves extends nearly the whole length of the bower. The walls are hung with shields, and the skins of various animals. Chairs and sofas

woven of osiers fill the apartment. The chimney is formed of sticks, and the head of a stag with his branching horns decorates the mantlepiece. Half an hour was passed in lolling

upon Ellen's sofas, and in examining her domestic arrange

ments.

Bidding a lingering farewell to the sweet little island, we again embarked and soon completed the residue of our voyage. The foot of Loch Katrine is very romantic and beautiful. Innumerable hills of moderate elevation raise their grey, pointed peaks around and above a deeply wooded glen, opening towards the south-east and forming the outlet of the lake. The highest of these are Ben-venue and Ben-an, rising on each side of the pass. Both are fine mountains, something like two thousand feet in height, with naked masses of granite overhanging wild and woody bases. the great number of peaks or pikes which are crowded into this narrow district, it has been called the Trosachs, or bristled region. The lake is here reduced to less than half a mile in width, sheltered on all sides from the winds by high promontories, jutting so far into the water, as to appear like a group of islands.

From

Towards the north-west, the eye looks up the glen of Strathgartney, in which tradition says that the grey charger of Fitz-James fell. The boatman gravely informed us, that his bones are to be seen to this day! Such stories, and the sketches of certain topographers, have afforded us an infinite fund of amusement. The foremost of these is "John Knox, Esq." certainly not a reformer, although a very bold innovator upon the King's English. His prose has all the musical bombast of Ossian, without a redeeming particle of his spirit; and the swells of his periods run higher than the waves of the Scottish lakes. Take, for example, the following graphic delineation of a hill at the foot of Loch Katrine: Turning to the north, we see the grey head of thundersplintered Ben-an, rising above the green copsewood; and we trace upon the right the course of a mountain torrent, overhung with wood, which falls in many a thundering cascade, till reaching the farm-houses, it passes quietly to Loch Achray. Though his crest is cleft with lightning, he listens to the crash of thunder, and the warring winds, without dismay; and exposing his bare forehead to the tempest's shock, grimly guards the pass, like a veteran grey in arms!" These successive peals of thunder and lightning, which surpass the volleys of Peter Quince and Nick Bottom, are quoted in the two principal "Pleasure Tours" through Scotland, with a well-turned compliment to the author, by

printing his name in capitals, and by lauding his "spirited description of scenery." Surely if such rant could find a sale, and could please the public taste in our country, it might be asked with emphasis, "who reads an American book?"

But I forget that the object of my tour, as well as the wish of my heart, is to be pleased, not to cavil; and in the language of Sterne, I pity the man who travels from Dan to Beersheba, merely for the sake of venting his spleen and of finding fault. Those who go abroad with such feelings would manifest much more wisdom in remaining at home; for in every country, a captious spirit may pick up enough to sour the temper and furnish subjects of complaint. Happy is the tourist who looks upon new scenes with more complacency, adopting the maxim of the great moral poet,

"Laugh where we must-be candid where we can.

To return from this digression, into which the grey steed of Fitz-James heedlessly carried me.:-we landed at the foot of Loch Katrine, and after walking a mile and a half reached Stewart's hotel. Here an hour was passed in taking a parting view of the Trosachs, in searching a folio album for the names of our friends, and in taking some refreshment after the fatigues of the day. At 6 o'clock, a vehicle was chartered to take us to Callander. Our route lay through the former dominions of Rhoderick Dhu; by Lochs Achray and Vennachar; at the base of Ben-Ledi; over the Brig of Turk; and along the banks of the Teith: but night came on too soon after our departure from the hotel, to afford us a fair view of the scenery upon the road. The outlines of Ben-Ledi were dimly visible; but no bale-fire flashed upon its brow: no tartans, nor bonnets, nor spears started from the heath, at the signal of the Highland whistle and no bairns were seen scouring "the Wood of Lamentation" or the shores of the lake, mounted upon the wizard Kelpie.* Some of these are objects of "second sight," and can alone be kenned by gifted seers.

:

* This local superstition may need some illustration. The Kelpie is an evil spirit of the water, who appears in the shape of a horse. On one occasion he is said to have been seen at the Wood of Lamentation, on the borders of Loch Vennachar, assuming for the time being, the guise of a grey Highland pony. Some half a dozen children in sport clambered upon his back, when he plunged into the lake, and all save one were drowned.

At 8 o'clock in the evening, we arrived at Callander, standing at the southern verge of the Highlands, our tour through which here terminated, having extended several hundred miles, and occupied ten days. It was in all respects satisfactory, contributing not only to temporary amusement, but to a more accurate knowledge of a large and interesting portion of Scotland.

LETTER XXVII.

RIDE TO STIRLING-ROMAN ENCAMPMENT-CASTLE OF DOUNE -DUNBLANE-STIRLING-FIELD OF BANNOCKBURN-JUNCTION CANAL-GLASGOW.

October, 1825.-On the 11th, we took a post-chaise for Stirling, eighteen miles from Callander. In the suburbs of the town, a walk of half a mile was taken through the rain and wet grass, for the purpose of looking at the Roman Encampment, which is reckoned among the first remains of antiquity in Great-Britain. It consists of a semi-circular mound, elevated ten or twelve feet above the plain, and enclosing an area of several acres between it and the river Teith, on the left bank of which it is situated. The circumvallation is composed of stone and covered with turf, which at present supports a growth of large forest trees. A footpath winds along on the summit, commanding a beautiful view of the bold, rapid river, the intermediate plain, and the grove of oak at the north-western extremity. The porches and fences of a handsome seat in the vicinity are antique, designed to correspond with this curious relic of other ages. Our ride this morning extended through a fertile, agricultural district, forming an agreeable contrast to the sterility of the Highlands, which had just been left behind. A house was passed, on the right of the road, called Cambus More, where Sir Walter Scott spent several years of his early life, and imbibed his taste for natural scenery. It is deeply embosomed in woods, and its environs are extremely rural. A little farther on is Lanrick Castle, the seat of Sir Evan Murray M'Gregor, the chieftain of the clan of that name. It is prettily situated on the bank of the