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hills and up the dells to God's house, many of them coming six or eight miles to hear the gospel. The cattle, too, had rest, for rich and poor, old and young, male and female, all came on footnot a carriage or conveyance of any kind approached that sanctuary. The edifice is low-roofed and very plain, but adapted for holding a large number, and it was well filled. The sermon was earnest and impressive. In the afternoon, Mr. McLane preached in Gaelic ; but as this was to me an unknown tongue, and thinking that it. would therefore be unprofitable, I did not attend. This village is surrounded on every side by hills, and the whole appearance of the country is wild in the extreme. Most of the inhabitants talk Gaelic, though, being near the Lowlands, they have at school acquired English. Not a few of the more ignorant are still believers in the Highland doctrine of second sight, apparitions, &c.

13*

The Trosarhs.

“Stranger! if e'er thine ardent step liath traced

The northern realm of ancient Caledon,
Where the proud queen of wilderness hath placed

By lake and cataract her lovely throne ;
Sublime but sad delight thy soul hath known,

Gazing on pathless glen and mountain high,
Listing where from the cliffs the torrents thrown,

Mingle their echoes with the eagle's cry,
And with the sounding lake, and with the moaning sky."

On Monday morning I left Callander about nine o'clock, for the Trosachs and Loch Katrine, the scene of the “ Lady of the Lake.” We first passed Coilantogle Ford, to which Roderick Dhu promised to conduct Fitz James in safety.

“Then rest thee here till dawn of day,
Myself will guide thee on the way
O'er stock and stone, o'er notch and ward,
Till past Clan Alpine's utmost guard,
As far as Coilantogle's ford.”

We drove through a small plaintain, and came in an instant on Loch Vennaher, one of the clearest and purest of the Scottish lakes. After riding along its banks for a short distance, it seemed to

terminate, but a close inspection showed that the trees apparently growing before me, were all upside down ; so, what I had supposed to have been a little forest, was merely the reflection in the water of the trees on the opposite bank.

We next passed Loch Achray, a smaller, but no less romantic lake. The ride from Callander to this point is through scenery of the wildest kind. A house is seldom seen, and all appears to remain as it was centuries ago, when Highland chieftains held their revelries in feudal halls, and when the Pibroch was heard from glen and hill. At the head of Lnch Achray, there is a very curious hotel, built in the form of a castle or stronghold, which corresponds well with the rough scenery by which it is surrounded. It has two towers, with narrow slits in the thick walls to admit light, and the interior agrees with the exterior, the dining-room being arched with oaken beams, and furnished appropriately.

At this point begin the Trosachs, (Troschen, bristled territory,) which extend for about a mile to Loch Katrine. Leaving the conveyance at the inn, and sending on my valise before me, I proceeded forward alone. At that season the foliage

was in its utmost luxuriance. As I walked along, there was nothing in the winding deep defile, except the road on which I traveled, to indicate that the foot of man had ever invaded this silent sanctuary. No hum of life was here, no living object in sight, no works of puny art to mar the grandeur of nature. A Sabbatic siience reigned around, unbroken save by the twittering of the little birds. I walked slowly along, drinking in the beauty of the grandest scenery I had ever beheld. The road winds in a serpentine manner through the narrow pass, while far above on both sides are rocks piled on rocks, in some cases well nigh excluding the light of heaven. To the left, at a short distance, rises to the height of twenty-eight hundred feet, huge Benvenue, and to the right, her companion in solitude, Benan.

“High on the south, huge Benvenue

Down on the lake in masses threw
Crags, knolls, and mounds confusedly hurled,
The fragments of an earlier world:
A wildering forest feathered o'er
His ruined sides and summit hoar;
While on the north, through middle air,
Benan heaved high his forehead bare.”

The best description of the Trosachs ever penned, is in the Lady of the Lake:

“The western waves of ebbing day

Rolled o'er the glen their level way;
Each purple peak, each flinty spire,
Was bathed in floods of living fire.
But not a setting beam could glow
Within the dark ravine below.
Where twined the path, in shadow hid,
Round many a rocky pyramid,
Shooting abruptly from the dell
Its thunder splintered pinnacle ;
Round many an insulated mass,
The native bulwarks of the pass,
Huge as the towers, which builders vain
Presumptuous piled on Shinar's plain;
The rocky summits, split and rent,
Formed turret, dome, and battlement.”

.

Were we to suppose this world the workmanship of many beings, (and who, when contemplating its almost infinite variety of animal, vegetable, and mineral substances, without the assistance of divine revelation, or proper conceptions of omnipotence, could conceive it to be the work of one,) we would conclude that this must have been the mechanism of the master workmen. The Trosachs consist of a narrow gorge between two ranges of hills, various in size, form, and height, and covered with precipitous rocks, bushes, and trees. The whole scenery is sublime ; and its being so excluded from the haunts of men, so per

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