fish upon which they feed. The silver grey trout is apparently the original native of the loch, and, in many respects, the finest fish of the whole. At the eastern extremity of the loch, there are some remains of the monasteries of Portmoak and Scotland's Well. The little sequestered village of Kinneswood, situated on the north-east shore of Loch Leven, was the birth-place of Michael Bruce, the poet. The house in which he first saw the light is still pointed out. His poem on Loch Leven Castle, his ballad of Sir James the Rose, and his verses in anticipation of his own death, are much admired. He died at the early age of twenty-one, before his poetical genius arrived at maturity.* The river Leven flows from the lake on the east side, and pursues an easterly course to the Firth of Forth. The vale of the Leven is beautiful, and is ornamented with the woods around Leslie, the seat of the Earl of Rothes. About two miles from Kinross, is the village of Milnathort, or Mills of Forth; and to the right, at some distance, are the ruins of Burleigh Castle, which gave title to Lord Burleigh, attainted in 1716. The road now enters Glenfarg, a romantic little valley, enclosed by the Ochils, which are clothed to their summits with verdure.

At the northern extremity of the glen is Ayton House (Murray,) and a short distance to the right the ancient village of Abernethy, once the capital of the Pictish kingdom, and a most extensive Culdee establishment, consisting of a university and a monastery, besides a church. Abernethy still contains a round tower similar to that of Brechin, supposed to have been erected by the

* A most interesting biography of Bruce has lately been published by the Rev. Mr. M'Kelvie of Balgedie, who has satisfactorily proved that the Ode to the Cuckoo, and several of the paraphrases, published by Logan in his own name, were in reality written by Bruce.

Picts. Passing some hamlets, the tourist reaches the Bridge of Earn, a village which affords accommodation to the strangers who resort in great numbers to Pitcaithly Wells in the neighbourhood. There is a ball-room and a library, with every other requisite convenience. The rules by which the society of this watering-place is regulated are of a peculiar, but very judicious kind. Shortly after passing Pitcaithly, the tourist reaches the hill of Moncreiff, from which he will obtain the first view of Perth.* The prospect from this hill has been much and deservedly admired. The fertile Carse of Gowrie,—the Firth of Tay, with the populous town of Dundee,—the city of Perth, and the beautiful valley of Strathearn, bounded by the hills of Menteith, are all distinctly seen from this eminence. Pennant calls this view "the Glory of Scotland."

PERTH,

An ancient royal burgh, and one of the handsomest towns in Scotland, is beautifully situated on the west bank of the Tay, at the distance of forty-four miles from

* One of the most beautiful points of view which Britain, or perhaps the world, can afford, is, or rather we may say was, the prospect from a spot called the Wicks of Baiglie, being a species of niche at which the traveller arrived, alter a long stage from Kinross, through a waste and uninteresting country, and from which, as forming a pass over the summit of a ridgy eminence which he had gradually surmounted, he beheld stretching beneath him, the valley of the Tay, traversed by its ample and lordly stream; the town of Perth, with its two large meadows, or Inches, its steeples, and its towers; the hills of Moncreiff and Kinnoul faintly rising into picturesque rocks, partly clothed with woods; the rich margin of the river, studded with elegant mansions; and the distant view of the huge Grampian mountains, the northern screen of this exquisite landscape. The alteration of the road, greatly, it must be owned, to the improvement of general intercourse, avoids this magnificent point of view, and the landscape is introduced more gradually and partially to the eye, though the approach, must be still considered as extremely beautiful. There is still, we believe, a footpath left open by which the station at the Wicks of Baiglie may be approached; and the traveller, by quitting his horse or equipage, and walking a few hundred yards, may still compare the real landscape with the sketch which we have attempted to give."—Fair Maid of Perth, vol. i., p. 21.