or proceed to Stirling. I shall therefore, in this place, give my ideas of that extraordinary waterfall: for that purpose I will proceed to the town of the Crook of Devon. The Lin, and the Rumbling Brig are about a mile and a half to the west of that small town, lower down the river. I went from Stirling to a farm belonging to a friend, on the south side of the Devon, close to the Lin; consequently, I did not reach the Crook of Devon, but forded the river somewhat above the Rumbling Brig. The lane to the river was frightful; and, as the driver was unacquainted with the ford, I chose to mount behind the carriage, rather than trust myself in the inside of it. The water, however, was far more favourable to me, and the equipage, than the land on the other side: in the tracks there (they deserve not the name of roads), carts may have passed; but as for a four-wheeled carriage, I conclude mine was the first ever dragged through them. At last, though late, I arrived at Craig Town, and was amply compensated for my fatigue and fright, by the kindness of my worthy host, Mr. Charles Mercer, and his friend the Rev. Mr. Graham; nor must I forget the civilities of Mr. Lowry Johnston, by
