The lawns, wood-fringed, in nature's native taste,
The hillocks dropt in nature's careless haste;

The arches striding o'er the new-born stream,
The village glittering in the noon-tide beam."

Along the north bank of the river, there is a terrace sixteen yards wide and three miles in length, overshadowed by a row of stately beech trees, and, on the opposite side, there is a similar walk extending a mile from Kenmore. These promenades are connected by a light cast-iron bridge. Taymouth Castle was first built by Sir Colin Campbell, sixth knight of Lochaw, in the year 1580. It was then, and until lately, called Bailoch, from the Gaelic bealach, a word signifying the outlet of a lake or glen. The builder being asked why he had placed his house at the extremity of his estate, replied, "We'll brizz yont," (press onward,) adding, that he intended Balloch should in time be in the middle of it. The possessions of the family have, however, extended in the opposite direction. They now reach from Aberfeldy, four miles eastward, to the Atlantic Ocean, a space upwards of one hundred miles, and are said to be the longest in Britain.

The reception of the Queen at Taymouth, on the occasion of her visit in 1842, was considered by Her Majesty to be the finest thing she had seen in Scotland. On that festive occasion the majestic features of the surrounding landscape were aided by all the resources of human art, and the animation of human life. Her Majesty arrived on Wednesday, the 7th September, at six in the evening. Her arrival was awaited by a gathering of the powerful clan Campbell, and by thousands besides, both Celts and Sassenachs, who had crowded to the spot from all quarters of the country. As the evening advanced, a brilliant illumination gradually spread its lustre over the scene, realising the fabled splendours of the Arabian Tales. The trunks of the trees were converted into picturesque and irregular columns of fire, and their branches became covered with clusters of sparkling rubies, emeralds, topazes, and diamonds, like the fairy fruit in the ideal gardens of the genii. The variegated lamps, hung along the wire-fence of the deer park in beautiful festoons, presented the appearance of an unsupported and aërial barrier of living fire. The fort among the woods above the Castle blazed with golden light from 40,000 coloured lamps, and ever and anon the flash of a gun gave additional momentary splendour to the woods, and the boom of its report reverberated in sublime echoes through the valley. Soaring above all, the lofty summits of the northern hills were crowned with immense bonfires, in countless numbers, so that the rugged outlines of the most distant mountains in the background were rendered visible by their own volcanic-looking flames. To all these blazing and sparkling wonders, the intense darkness of the night gave additional effect. At ten o'clock, a salute from the battery announced the commencement of the fireworks, which were produced in the

highest style of pyrotechnical art. Their display took place upon the sloping lawn that hangs towards the base of the hill, directly across the park in front of the house. There were many honest citizens of London present, who had seen the glories of Vauxhall, and who declared that they were all utterly extinguished by those of this single night at Taymouth. The dancing took place on two platforms in front of the Castle, the manly forms and energetic action of the Highlanders being exhibited to striking advantage by a blaze of torch-light.

Many were the whimsical scenes that occurred in Kenmore, Aberfeldy, and the hamlets and the houses of the surrounding districts, on this memorable occasion, from the crowds of strangers that besieged them for beds. Every floor was covered with shakedowns, and for each of these a charge of from ten shillings to a sovereign was made; and many were glad to content themselves with a chair to sit up in. The scramble for food next morning was no less than it had been for beds, and many who had never tasted porridge in their lives before, seized upon the wooden bicker that contained it, and were fain to gobble it up with the help of a horn spoon. It was pleasant to see, however, that all these inconveniences were borne with good humour, every one declaring that a sight of the glories of Taymouth would have been cheaply purchased by deprivations and hardships of tenfold greater magnitude. And, indeed, they were glories, such as, when taken together with the magnificence of the natural theatre where they were exhibited, are scarcely to be paralleled. The revelries at Kenilworth, in honour of Elizabeth, were sufficiently gorgeous; but rich as is the district in which they took place, it can no more be compared, in point of romantic effect, with that of the bold wooded mountains, the variegated plains, and the sparkling streams of Taymouth, than the homely countenance and ascetic expression of the Queen, who was a guest there, can be thought of in comparison with the lovely face that shed its smiles that night on all within the noble castle of the Marquess and Marchioness of Breadalbane.*

Leaving Kenmore and Taymouth, the tourist proceeds along the shores of the Loch to Killin, which is sixteen miles distant at the opposite extremity. Both shores abound in beautiful scenery, but the southern is preferable, on account of the view which it commands of the gigantic Ben Lawers, which borders the other side of the loch.+

*The above description of the festivities at Taymouth is abridged from Sir Thomas Dick Lauder's "Memorial of the Royal Progress." We lament that limited space has rendered it necessary for us to condense the picturesque and glowing style of the distinguished author, but the force of circumstances has made this Procrustean procress inavoidable.

"The northern shore of the lake presented a far more Alpine prospect than that upon which the Glover was stationed. Woods and thickets ran up the sides of the mountains, and disappeared among the sinuosities formed by the

This road is rather longer, and considerably more hilly than that along the northern shore, but it is quite passable for a carriage, There is a good deal of cultivated ground on either side, with many rude and picturesque cottages. Two miles from Kenmore, on the south side of the lake, is the fine waterfall of Acharn, half a mile off the road. The cascade appears to be about eighty or ninety feet high, and a neat hermitage has been formed, commanding an excellent view of the fall. Midway between Kenmore and Killin, upon the north side of the lake, is the village of Lawers, containing a church and an inn. The road continues to lead along the foot of Ben Lawers, affording a fine prospect of the scenery at the head of the loch. Eight miles from Lawers is the straggling little village of Killin, beautifully seated on the banks of the Dochart, near its junction with the Lochy. The inn affords every accommodation for travellers. Fingal's grave, in a field immediately to the north of the village, is indicated by a stone about two feet in height. Killin is deservedly admired for the varied beauty of its landscapes. The vale of the Dochart is stern and wild, but that of the Lochy is peculiarly beautiful. At the village, the Dochart rushes over a strange expanse of rock, and encircles two islands, one covered with magnificent pines, on one of which is the tomb of the Macnabs. From the upper end of the lower island there are three bridges across the stream. "Killin," says Dr. Macculloch, with some exaggeration," is the most extraordinary collection of extraordinary scenery in Scotland-unlike every thing else in the country, and perhaps on earth, and a perfect picture gallery in itself, since you cannot move three yards without

winding ravines which separated them from each other; but far above these specimens of a tolerable natural soil, arose the swart and bare mountains themselves, in the dark grey desolation proper to the season. Some were peaked, some broad-crested, some rocky and precipitous, others of a tamer outline and the clan of Titans seemed to be commanded by their appropriate chieftains-the frowning mountain of Ben Lawers, and the still more lofty eminence of Ben Mohr, arising high above the rest, whose peaks retain a dazzling helmet of snow far into the summer season, and sometimes during the whole year. Yet the borders of this wild and silvan region, where the mountains descended upon the lake, intimated, even at that early period, many traces of human habitation. Hamlets were seen, especially on the northern margin of the lake, half hid among the little glens that poured their tributary streams into Loch Tay, which, like many earthly things, made a fair show at a distance, but, when more closely approached, were disgustful and repulsive, from their squalid want of the conveniences which even attend Indian wigwams. The magnificent bosom of the lake itself was a scene to gaze on with delight. Its noble breadth, with its termination in a full and beautiful run, was rendered yet more picturesque by one of those islets which are often happily situated in Scottish lakes. The ruins upon that isle, now almost shapeless, being overgrown with wood, rose, at the time we speak of, into the towers and pinnacles of a priory, where slumbered the remains of Sybilla, daughter of Henry I. of England, and consort of Alexander the First of Scotland."-Fair Maid of Perth.