last rebellion. The picture gallery contains several pieces by the ancient masters—some rare, and of great value; but the collection is of limited amount, compared with the lofty scale of the building, and the station of the noble proprietor. But should the fastidious tourist find little to excite his admiration in the landscape gallery, he has only to take his station at one of the windows, and the face of nature will afford him ample compensation for his disappointment. In the saloon, about one hundred and fifty stand of arms, used by the Campbells at the battle of Culloden, are arranged with much taste and ingenuity. The walks and roads through the woods are numerous, and highly variegated in scenery-here, opening upon the light waters of Lochfine, and there, on the blue mountains of the Gaël, which bound the horizon. The river Ary, from which the castle and burgh derive their name, forms in its course many pleasing cascades, to which convenient paths have been cut for the accommodation of strangers. The whole of this demesne is embellished with luxuriant forest scenery, of which the timber alone has been valued at two hundred thousand pounds. The hill of Duniquaich, already mentioned, which towers, in a variegated mass of verdure, to the height of seven hundred feet, is a point from which the stranger will enjoy one of the most fascinating lake-and-land prospects in the kingdom. The barren mountains in the distance, furrowed with cataracts, frowning with rocks, and sprinkled with alpine firs, contrast strongly with the high state of cultivation, the sheltered beauty, and the general air of prosperity which pervade the coast. Inverary is, without exception, the most princely residence in Scotland: it embraces a domain of vast extent, every rood of which is kept in the finest order, and exhibits, even to profusion, all the charms of lake, mountain, and forest scenery.

Of the more conspicuous members of this illustrious house, distinguished alike by its vast possessions, its devoted patriotism, and its ancient power, was Archibald, earl and marquess of Argyll, born in 1598. He was a zealous Covenanter; and, notwithstanding his opposition to the fanatical schemes of Charles I., was created marquess for promoting a conformity between the churches of England and Scotland. It was by his persuasion that Charles II. visited Scotland in 1651, and was crowned at Scoon. At the Restoration, however, this unfortunate nobleman was committed to the Tower, whence, after five months' confinement, he was sent to Scotland, and being tried and pronounced guilty of high treason, was there beheaded in 1661. "I could," said he, when brought to the block-" I could die like a Roman, but I choose rather to die like a Christian." He fell with heroic firmness, exculpating himself-and with truth-of having had any hand in the death of his royal master. His generosity in

declining to take any part in the prosecution of his arch enemy, Montrose, would have done him great honour, had he not placed himself at a window to mortify the fallen hero as he passed in a cart to receive judgment.* Archibald, his son, with less ability, but much greater integrity than his father, fell a victim to the same unhappy fate. He was uniformly steady and virtuous; and, during all the misfortunes of Charles II., firm to the trust which that monarch reposed in him. In every respect he acted a moderate and patriotic part; for, though strictly devoted to the interests of his sovereign, when the Restoration took place, he honestly refused to acquiesce in the unprincipled and tyrannical measures which the ministers of the crown adopted in Scotland. The result was, that, under the same prince, to whom he had steadily adhered in his utmost adversity, he was brought to trial and condemned without a crime. But, for a time, the rancour of his enemies was frustrated by his escape. In 1685, he, unfortunately, shared in the attempt made by the duke of Monmouth to restore the liberties, and preserve the established religion then invaded by James II.; and having been taken prisoner, was put to death on his former sentence, in defiance of every principle both of law and equity. No man ever met his death with greater resignation. On the day of his execution he ate his dinner cheerfully, enjoyed a sound sleep after it, and, on awaking, was led to the scaffold, where he fell with that dignity and composure which became a life of integrity. A third, and more fortunate chief of this family, was John, the second duke. He was bred to the army, served under Marlborough, was brigadier-general at the battle of Ramilies, commandant at the battles of Oudenarde and Malplaquet, and was present at the sieges of Lisle and Ghent. After numerous other services, and high civil offices, in which he benefited his country and gained fresh accessions of honours, he died in 1743, and was buried in Westminster Abbey, where a noble monument is raised to his memory. It is this duke who figures as Macallummore, in Sir Walter Scott's admirable tales of "Rob Roy," and "The Heart of Midlothian." The appearance of the town of Inverary, the capital of the county, is neat; it is well-built, and offers many very pleasing indications of increasing prosperity. That prosperity, however, depends almost exclusively on the fishing and curing of herrings, the season for which commences in July and continues till December. Lochfine herrings are proverbially known as superior to all others, and exported to every fish-market in the kingdom. From fifteen to twenty thousand barrels See vol. i. of this work. Art. Canongate, Edinburgh.

It was now that a neighbouring clan was deputed by government to carry destruction through the whole territory of the Campbells. Seventeen gentlemen of that name were taken at Inverary, and executed without even the formality of a trial. Their monument, erected on the spot, commemorates the tragical fact, and, with very laudable moderation of language, the cause in which they fell.

of this fish are taken annually in Lochfine, and bringing a higher price than those taken in other parts of the coast, form a very lucrative branch of trade. Few things can be more amusing to the curious stranger than to accompany the fishermen when they go out in their boats to haul in their nets, as the coruscations produced by the fish in the water are exceedingly brilliant, and cannot fail to surprise and interest every one not previously acquainted with such phenomena. The boatmen, whose civility is proverbial, go out in the evening, and, for a very small compensation, will enable the stranger to indulge his curiosity. A dark windy night is best suited for their purpose; they generally ply to windward in order to have a speedy return to market in the morning. After searching about for some time, examining the appearance of the water, the flight of sea-fowl and other prognostics, the fishermen shoot their nets, which are composed of separate pieces bound together with twine: on the upper side is a back-rope, to which buoys of calf or dogskin are attached by means of long lines, and thus the net is raised or lowered at pleasure. The boat is then permitted to be at the end of the net, which serves, in some measure, as an anchor; a sail is converted into a covering for a tent; a fire is lighted, and the song and jest make the time pass lightly till the net is drawn, or a new station selected. The fishermen contrive to make excellent.cakes, and have a method of dressing the fresh-caught herrings that might tickle the palate of the most fastidious epicure. If the visitor has taken care to fill his own scrip, and replenish his flask before coming on board, he will have no cause to regret the length of the voyage. Three or four, and, at times, as many as five hundred boats are to be seen on these occasions, " darkling in the silvery moonbeams," and taking their stations opposite the town. Each of the boats is manned by three or four men, who have regulations by which they are compelled to abide, in respect to their modes of fishing, their hours, and their stations. Much of their success depends on the proper depth to which the nets are sunk, as the herrings sometimes pass over and sometimes under them. It is a beautiful sight to behold the surface of the water silvered, as it sometimes is, by the glancing play of immense shoals which crowd up to the very head of the Loch, pursued by flights of sea-fowl, hovering over them with ceaseless screams. By these signs the experienced fisherman discovers the particular haunt which they have chosen; for, in this respect, they often seem to be guided by habit, though more frequently by accident or caprice. But to this we shall again advert.

At East Tarbert the aspect of the shore is particularly forbidding, and, owing to many sunken rocks, the entrance to the harbour is very critical; but when the