and rear their bare heads majestically. The left side of the landscape is occupied by the woods at Inver, the dashing Brand, and the charming scenes at the Hermitage. As the beauties of Dunkeld have been so often immortalized by pens far abler than mine, I shall say little of them: at the same time I cannot omit expressing the pleasure I experienced from every thing I there met with. Every step from the house to the Hermitage is enchanting. After crossing the Tay ferry, where the banks of that smooth river are charming, winding, and finely wooded, I entered a shrubbery that soon led to the river Brand, dashing through a rough bed of large stones. Opposite the shrubbery are high rocks, covered with wood, and picturesque to a great degree. As I advanced I came to lofty projecting rocks on each side of the river, striving, as it were, to kiss each other: they are united by a simple bridge of one arch, through which, deep below, by a very confined rocky channel, the water forces itself; scarcely recovered from its foaming rage at the fall just above, which is partially seen through the high arch. On entering the Hermitage I was astonished. The contrast between the room, the beautiful cataract, and its scenery, is beyond
