in full view; the opposite shore appears much improved; and here and there are seen, through opening groves, cattle grazing, and waving fields of corn. The scene still more expands when the Tourist arrives at the second promontory; here Benvenue's fractured rocks appear more rugged and varied, as if cleft by lightning's vengeance; a mile and a-half upon the right appears Benan, with its bold and weather-beaten top of massy rocks : the tout ensemble, and various forms which compose the Trosachs, now become more wild and undefinable; each step increases his admiration, till he arrives at Ard-chinchrocan, where guides may be procured to the Trosachs and Loch Katrine. This is a comfortable house, placed in a romantic situation, commanding grand and extensive views of the surrounding scenery.

THE TROSACHS.

The Trosachs, which in Gaelic mean the Bristled Territory, form the entrance into the most sublime and difficult of all the passes through the Grampians. On the left of the pass rises Benvenue, 2800 feet above the sea and 2400 above the lake; and on the right Ben-an, with its crest-riven summit, 1800 feet high. The north shoulder of the former stretches in vast undulating masses into the lake, thus unapproachable in that direction; the sides of the mountain are partly covered with birch, alder, and mountain-ash, dispersed with all the gracefulness of nature; on this side Benvenue is indented by deep ravines, in some parts" inaccessible to shepherd's tread," and regarded with superstitious awe by the natives there are many gloomy apertures formed by the fantastic piling of the masses of rock, one above another in these defiles; in short, all that is stupendous and wild in mountain scenery here unite.

The appearance it presents on a cursory inspection is well expressed in the following lines:

"High on the south huge Benvenue,
Down to the lake his masses threw ;

Crags, knolls, and mounds confusedly hurl'd,
The fragments of an earlier world."

Ben-an, again, is of inferior, though of imposing height, and can be ascended on the south side to within 500 feet of its summit; its form then becomes pyramidical, and terminates in outline like a cone. Its naked and defenceless head appears to brave the lightning of Heaven, and seems to have suffered from the " war of elements.” In the autumn of 1811, during an awful storm, an immense portion of it was thrown from its southern side near the summit, to the base with dreadful noise, which "filled the air with barbarous dissonance," sufficient to have aroused Echo in her most secluded cell. With regard to the Trosachs themselves, neither the pen of the poet, nor the pencil of the painter, can vividly enough describe, nor can the mind unassisted by the naked eye, though stimulated by the best descriptions, adequately imagine, the scenic wonders they contain. All is chaos, "confusion worse confounded," nearly the whole superficies consists of hills and hillocks, of rocks of all possible, and most fantastic forms; some like pointed spires, others suggesting the idea of vast architectural ruins or impregnable battlements. Forgetting those fanciful resemblances, the Tourist might be tempted to suppose that here the Titans had contended with the gods, and that the hills and hillocks are the fragments of mountains torn from their deep-rooted foundations, to hurl at their celestial adversaries, or that they are the splinters,-themembra disjecta of former mountains, that have disappeared in some tremendous convulsion. Nature seems to have been in one of her most violent throes, when this scene was first brought into existence. These cliffs and knolls display an astonishing exuberance of creeping ivy, dark brown heather, trees of various kinds, such as the

oak, the hazel, the weeping birch, the mountain ash, and alpine pine, in all their varieties of shade and fragrance, luxuriating in the sterility of their situation, where creation seems to be hushed into silence, and not a sound is heard except the brawling of unseen brooks, threading their way through tangled thickets to the river and lakes below. The Trosachs formerly made all access to Loch Katrine impassable, excepting by a footpath over a steep crag, in crossing which the Tourist had to be assisted by a rope. Now, however, there is a good road cut through this strange labyrinth.

In approaching the lake, the Tourist has to pass through a rugged and gloomy ravine, and here Fitz-James's "gallant grey" fell exhausted; on the left is a range of rocks, remarkable for the distinctness of their echo, repeating several times syllables, if deliberately uttered, with astonishing precision. This defile is called Beal-anDuine, from the circumstance of a skirmish having taken place in it between the natives and a party of Cromwell's soldiers, which ended in the defeat of the latter, one of whom was shot, and his grave is still to be seen on the spot where he fell. In revenge of his death, his comrades determined to plunder the small island at the eastern extremity of the lake, to which the natives had conveyed their women and children. One of the soldiers swam to the island with the intention of bringing off the boat, as a means of transporting his party to the intended plunder; but on his arriving at the beach, a heroine of the name of Helen Stuart sprung from behind a rock, and severed his head from his body, on seeing which, the party abandoned the enterprise. It ought to be mentioned that this is the island in which, according to the poet, the Douglas and his daughter were sheltered by Roderick Dhu. The riven sides of Ben-an and Benvenue return a powerful echo from the highest

rock of this island. Issuing from the dell, the Tourist discovers a narrow inlet to

LOCH KATRINE,

almost cut off from the main body of the water by the island. One of the greatest charms about the Trosachs, is the suddenness with which Loch Katrine bursts upon the view, and the surprising beauty of the scene at the little creek which it forms,

Affording scarce such breadth of brim

As served the wild duck's brood to swim."

The waters here, though of transparent clearness, have a murky hue, caused by the deep shadows of Benvenue's overhanging masses and the Trosachs; the island in front appears as a lovely grove; the lake, as the Tourist proceeds, bursts on the astonished senses with a magical effect; here let him contemplate nature in all its wildness and sublimity in style and sentiment; every object that surrounds him is eloquent, and tends to produce emotions of surprise, astonishment, and delight, mixed with serious devotional feelings. On proceeding along the path cut out of the solid rock, which overlooks the gloomy abyss, the Tourist should turn round and survey the deep defile from which he has emerged, thus an interesting prospect is obtained. Continuing the route a little on the left, he has before him the lofty Benvenue, skirted at its base with delicious pastures, partially shaded with aged trees, and clothed to nearly two-thirds of its height with birch, mountain-ash, and every variety of copsewood, its rugged sides deeply furrowed by wintry torrents. In advance the lake is concealed from view, but anon, it bursts upon the sight with increased magnificence, and Benvenue presents itself in a picturesque