bitation is seen, no sound heard, save that of the bleating sheep, and the rushing of the water) with awful pleasure, and wild as the scene appeared, I was delighted with it. The river Almond in floods, and on sudden thaws, is a prodigiously furious water; it rises rapidly to an incredible height, and roars down with such violence that it carries every thing before it with a noise like thunder. It was not in that state when I saw it; but was as clear as crystal, complaining only of the numerous asperities which impeded its course, and formed cascades, which were echoed by the mountains. The small patches of verdure by the river's side were remarkably beautiful from the colour and the fine soft texture of the grass, contrasted with the rough sides of the shivered stony mountains. The Glen as far as Newton, two miles, is in width about half an acre. The road, the river, at the edge of which the road runs, and the patches of verdure, fill up the space. It struck me in going down into this Glen, that it probably once might have been a subterraneous cavern, like that now at Castleton, in Derbyshire; and that by some great convulsion it had been torn asunder at the top, and thrown back on
