be done on foot. After breakfast, therefore, the following morning, we girt up our loins for the task-that is, my friends the Councillor, Mr. Carver, Mr. Binder, Mr. Shanks, Mr. Wallding, and myself-Mr. Deeds, if you please. Turning to the right, after leaving the inn, we double the head of the loch, whose sullen depths, like the moody face of a misanthrope, are never lighted with a smile. On the one side, the loch is walled in by steep, in many places precipitous rocks, jagged and rugged beyond description; and although the heather, moss, and lichen have kindly tried to hide these huge granite bones of our common mother, their success has been very limited, for the mountains on that side remain in their original nakedness—a chaos of barrenness and desolation. On this side, along which our route lies, the hills are more rounded in their outlines, and covered with a decent quantity of clothing. The road, which winds for some miles along the margin of the loch, is one of the most beautiful that can well be imagined, screwing, as it does, its way through a perfect grove of "siller birks," hazels, larches, and rowan trees, bending beneath their crowns of crimson berries, through which, ever and anon, glimpses are caught of the gloomy loch below, and of the white cottages of the village shining in the sun, while the everlasting hills lie piled above, each, as it were, standing on tiptoe, and trying to look

B

over its neighbour's shoulder. And thus we trudge on, with joke and laugh and song, till we reach Carrick Castle, a dilapidated fortress of the Bruces, standing on a rocky promontory shooting out into the loch, and from the top of which a splendid view is obtained of the surrounding scenery. Here we rest and refresh, for just beyond this point the hill ascent begins. Not a cloud in the sky; everywhere a solemn stillness, deepened, not broken, by the distant bleating of sheep far up the heights, which show like white dots among the heather

-a silence more eloquent than speech, that steals into the soul like a holy atmosphere from this temple not made with hands; for here we feel

"Each cloud-capped mountain is a holy altar,

An organ breathes in every grove,

And the full heart's a psalter,

Rich in deep hymns of gratitude and love."

Now for the hills in earnest ! Gazing up their colossal sides, even the strongest among us see that the task is no joke, and, after half an hour's climbing, are convinced of the fact more than ever. But up, still up, with the pulse quickened into a gallop, and the sweat pouring in small rivers down your face, the Councillor heading the movement, as nimble as a five-year-old, generally far in advance, and often seated in the distance on the most inaccessible peak within sight, watching

with philosophical serenity the panting ascent of his weaker brethren. Road or track there is none, and we have just to trust to our geographical instincts that we will land somewhere on this side of Ardentinny. Hallo! the Powers preserve us; but there is Shanks up to— what shall I call it ?—in a bog-hole, making violent but unavailing efforts to get out! On the contrary, he is gradually disappearing, and all hands rush to the rescue. Begging him to be firm-which is somewhat difficult in a bog-we promptly make a rope of our pocket handkerchiefs, throw a lasso over our unfortunate comrade, and, by dexterous manipulation, finally succeed in extracting him from his perilous position, with his nether man encased in an entirely new pair of trousers. Now, this laughable but dangerous faux pas all came of taking a "short cut," which, in travelling, as well as in other affairs, it is often better to avoid; for, as a general rule, you will accomplish your journey more speedily and with more ease by just sticking to the ordinary route than by taking a deceptive short cut and sticking in a bog every now and again. On the same principle I dislike short cuts to wealth, which were never more abundant than in these times, and which very frequently land the ambitious pedestrian in grief, like our friend abovementioned. Short cuts to wisdom never lead you there; and short cuts to health, particularly if they are

paved with pills, are likely to prove equally abortive. Therefore, my respectable brother, treasure up this aphorism within your bosom, and cause your offspring to write it in their copy-books-Short cuts are dangerous.

But on, still on, across heather, bog, and boulder; the sun is westering, the air is getting chillier, and a long way "lies between us and our hames "—you know the rest. I, for one, am nearly done, although not more so than some of the others, to judge by the chorus of "pechin'" in the rear. As for the Councillor, it's enough to raise one's dander to a red heat to see him pulling on with such sturdy coolness, and shouting in the distance at us to be quick and reach his coigne of 'vantage to see the splendid view, as if the view would not be there to-morrow, or much longer even, and as if anything more than hills, and

more hills, were to be

Surely our friend is a

seen wherever you can look. near relative of that redoubtable traveller of whom it is said

"Commodore Rogers was a man exceedingly brave, particular, He could climb up high rocks, exceedingly high, perpendicular; And what made this the more inexpressible,

These same rocks were quite inaccessible."

Everybody knows the deception of distance among the mountains-how, after struggling manfully to reach what you think must be the highest point now, you find

Blairmore quay.

another, and another, and another ugly peak looking remorselessly down upon you, and inviting you to come on, till you begin to inquire within-Oh, why left I my hame, why did I mount the steep? why did I warsle on till my legs can hardly creep? the hills are nae great joke, as far as I can see, and I canna get a blink o' But even the everlasting hills must come to an end, and we are on the highest height at last. After stretching away, away to the left, over an undulating expanse of comparatively dry moss, "scrunty heather," and tufts of hungry-looking grass, we begin to descend, gently at first, which is rather pleasant after the toilsome climb we have achieved; but this does not last long, till at length the descent in many places becomes so precipitous, and lies amid such a wilderness of loose boulders, that locomotion is at once disagreeably rapid and dangerous-you are like to be shaken to pieces, and it requires your utmost efforts to keep your feet and hold yourself together. Miss your footing, and you will be bowled to the bottom like a barrel. But take notice of Carver-observe that able pedestrian performing a cautious dodge far below-the hill being at that point nearly as steep as the side of a house: he is sliding down, if not comfortably and gracefully, at least with considerable velocity, a posteriori, utterly reckless of his unmentionables, and of the fact that Hyam and Moses