me, or in front to the glen, all was a scene of wildness that no pen can describe. It was sufficient to strike a timid mind with horror—to fill a contemplative one with wonder and amazement, leading reflection to the Omnipotence that produced it. An infinity of towering, convex, concave, and pointed tops of mountains surrounded me, and rose high above me; black, rough, and dripping. I then stood on the edge of an amazing rough eminence, hanging over a zig-zag road (of at least a mile) down to the glen. Cataracts dashing in every direction, by the road, across the road, and bursting from every cliff and chasm on every side. A river runs swiftly through the middle of the glen, with the road close to it; and there are rough mountains to the sky on each side of it, with tremendous gaps in the rocks, and huge loose pieces scattered thickly over the bare glen. One or two solitary huts are seen on the margin of the water, and some patches of verdure peep through the pieces of rocks, and creep up the mountains, wherever a small portion of soil is collected, producing a very scanty pasture for the sheep, seen hanging about the crags, diminished by distance to the size of Scotch caraway comfits. This spot looks as if it had been
