The last division of scenery which remain: to be seen from Blair, comprises that which extends from Garry Bridge to Loch Tumel, and it will afford ample occupation for a day, even to the mere spectator. The artist may pass many days among it, and still abandon it, like the story of Cambuscan bold. It is an useful piece of information, mechanical as it may be, to say, that the distance from Blair to where Loch 'Panel is first visible, is ten miles the necessary walking will add two or three more, and the carriage road is. excellent.

The great fall of the Tumel has long been an object to all visitors, because it has been described in all the tour-books. Thus the forward and the noisy never want their tame ; while the wonderful scenery which is continued all along this valley, remains unrecorded and unknown; unseen, anbepainted, and unbewritten. It is full time that it should have a better historian than the Author of these rambling pages.

Though the cascade of the Tumel is not the only object here, it is barely just to remark, that it would not have been overrated had it been described by far other quills than that which manufactured the Tourist's Guide, and been painted by another sort of pencil than Paul Sandby's. It is truly a line object; whether to the mere devourers of waterfalls, or to those who know better in what the main merit of this class of scenery consists. Assuredly, it would be rendering it high injustice to compare it with any fall on the Clyde, though far inferior in height; and, with Fyers, it can stand in no competition for good or evil, so distinct are their characters. The mass of water is very considerable, although the height does not exceed fifteen c>r sixteen feet; as the Tumel is here a wide and a deep river. Hence it possesses all that turbulence and noise which, in a large stream, are indispensible, because they are expected parts of its character; but which, on a smaller scale, are commonly too insignificant to atone for the want of those accompaniments which, in these, constitute the far greater portion of the interest, and which none can dispense with, whatever be the dimensions. Those who speak in personifications, may, if they please, call the cascade itself the soul of such a picture. But this is a case in which it is easier to dispense with the soul than the body: the waste of unattended white foam is but a disembodied spirit which excites no interest after the first moment of surprise: its colours dazzle and its noise wearies; and when we have ceased to speculate on its resemblance to magnesia or whipped cream, to wonder how salmon get up or boats come down, we would willingly give, like Alonzo, half a dozen acres of it for a rood of good landscape. Such are the testimonies of those who nave visited Schaflhausen and Niagara: of the judicious few at least; the only testimonies which, in Hamlet's opinion, need be recorded.

Though the cascade of the Tumel falls white from the moment that it quits the pool above, the disposition of the water is singularly beautiful Nothing can well be imagined more graceful than the form 5 which it assumes, nor than the manner in which the several parts arrange themselves into one fine and broad composition; the shape of the rocks beneath causing a variety of surface so great, as to produce, even amidst the mars of snowy whiteness, a depth of shadow sufficient to display them all in perfect relief, this is infinitely the rarest feature which is found good in a cascade; and, among the larger and more turbulent, it is seldom that we find any thing but a shapeless mass of white it is fortunate if any thing occurs to produce something like definite forms, before the failing water joins the similar confusion below. To say that the Tumel is, in this respect, perfect, is not praise too great: and it is for this reason that this cascade would command admiration, even were it divested of much of the splendid accompaniment which it possesses. That alone would constitute a fine picture ; and combined as the whole now is, assuredly the fall of the Tumel must be allowed the pre-eminence in Britain. As to the composition of the surrounding parts, it is unexceptionable, in the various foregrounds which different stations give, and in the banks and rocks immediately adjoining, ft is also rich, and full, and romantic, even in the middle ground; but there is a want of balance in the picture, caused by the towering height of the hill on the left, which produces an unpleasing effect, for which it is difficult to find a remedy by any mode of introducing the objects on the right hand.

A walk, by the side of the Garry, entering from a gate near the end of the bridge, leads to this cascade. If the visitor returns to the same point, he should take a new path to the left, which conducts o'er a wooded eminence, displaying a most magnificent and unexpected view of the pass of Killicrankie. It is well represented in Robson's Sketches of Scenery in Perthshire; and that popular and well-known work will almost superseds the necessity of any very particular notice of it. We here form a very different notion of this pass from that which is procured along the high road that leads through it; although it is only the details of the right hand hill which are visible. On this declivity, the read is seen winding along in a manner that taks much to the general picturesque effect; the birch woods which skirt it and rise in scattered forms up the face of the hill, continuing the general character of birch forest which stamps all the scenery, and harmonizing, as well in colour as in composition, with the whole ot' the surrounding landscape. In the distance, the pyramidal summit of Cairn Gower is seen forming the termination of this singular and striking vista: while, near at hand, the irregular and rocky ground, and the flatter lands, crowded with trees, produce a middle ground of extreme richness, and not less singular than rich ; the whole including more space, and comprising a greater multitude of objects without distraction, than are usually found in countries of this character.

But, from the fali of the Tumel, the visitor has another choice of walk, which he should by no means neglect. This is the course of the river upwards to the house of Coihvrochan: presenting a continued succession, for nearly two miles, of river scenery, of an uncommon and ne w character. The rocky and braw ling bed of the Tumel is here, in itself, beautiful throughout, and oflen disposed so as to afford picturesque rapids, with bold and precipitous deep hanks, formed of rocks and wood intermixed, and in a state of the highest natural ornament The whole is enclosed, on both sides, within these wild and romantic woods; where ancient and fine trees often overhang; the water, so as to pro duce frequent and marked changes of character; while some distant glimpse of the impending rocky and wooded mountains, or the descent of their picturesque declivities to the river'" margin, adds to the general variety so as to produce a succession of landscapes, of characters strongly marked, and not less strongly distinguished from each other. Where an occasional glimpse of that battlemented house is caught, its effect is extremely striking, and adds much to the interest of this wild scenery; while, in one or two places, which cannot br more particularly indicated for want of marks, the results are pictures which no artist will pass without a careful record. To those who are thus capable of appreciating this spot., singular among scenery where almost every thing is marked by singularity, it must be left to discover what it would require pages to point out in all its details of variety and beauty.

The traveller who pursues this scenery, may follow the line by the water side thus described, or he may proceed along the upper, and high -road, from Garry bidge to Ooilivrochan house.

In either case, different stations will be found above the high road or upon it, and near this house, which will afford, not only a good general notion of the form and disposition of this richly wooded and extraordinary valley, but will present some landscapes of the very first order, in point of extent of woody range, romantic mixture of trees and rocks, and grandeur in the mountain forms. To specify all these points, would be equally difficult and unnecessary ; but one, in particular, may be indicated, because it is easily found in consequence of its proximity to the burying ground, and because the view which it affords is perfect in its kind; comprehending, in the most complete detail, and under the most picturesque arrangement, all the distinguishing characters and part of this magnificent landscape Though the woods here consist solely of birch, there is nothing wanting to give them the full effect of the finest oak forests'; owing to that solid roundness of swelling outline by which they are distinguished when thus terming continuous woods, and to the undulating masses in which they are disposed m consequence of the irregular nature of the ground. If they have less of depth of tone, it is well compensated by that grey and tender hue which so well harmonizes with the general tint of the mountain scenery.

The depth of the valley, and the strong shadow which marks the course of the river running far below, produce a fine repose through a picture where the infinite division of the part would seem, at first, to render it unattainable: and this is aided by the height of the hills on all sides, of which, under every position of the sun, some one screen forms a continuous mass of shade. The distant and bold declivity of Bon Vrackie, ploughed deep by a dark ravine which descends from the summit, and sprinkled with dark forests of pine and with scattered trees, forms the great mass of the distance; yet so retiring on one side as to admit a view of the modest hills that bound Strath Tay, with a glimpse of all its minute forms of wood and cultivation^ dimly seen through the blue haze. The opposed mountain screen rises steep and rocky, its intricate surface, and equally intricate outline, displaying a succession of brown heath, and greyer. knolls, and high scars of rock, and furrowing torrents, intermixed with parches of birch woods, and sprinkled with scattered trees, which gradually uniting in one continued forest below plunge into the deep chasm that conducts the river. To the right, and behind, wood upon wood, and rock piled on rock, enclose the landscape, rising high upon the sky; while beneath, a continued succession of swelling knolls and deep valleys stretch away in an endless forest; the forms diminishing as they recede, from the silvery tree which, near the spectator, hangs its dark brown branches and airy foliage over the grey precipice on which he stands, to the faintest form that vanishes in the blue distance. With singular felicity of accident, the rude battlements of Coriivrochan house rise among the woods; betraying their long range only by an occasional glimpse, and thus, while emulating some castle of the day s of yore, adding the charm of ancient romance to a scene peculiarly adapted to the pen of the novelist; exceeding, perhaps, the powers of the painter.

Beyond this point there are two different roads, the one conducting to the ferry below, and to a farm house situated on the declivity of the hill, arid the other holding a higher course. Each presents a perpetual succession of romantic scenery, though the character becomes much changed. But the visitor will not pass without a remark, the little and singular green glen of Fincastle, in itself beautiful, though not picturesque ; and serving to relieve the eye from the dazzling effect of continuous forest and rocky mountain,

Through this little pleasing valley lies a road to Rannoch; now superseded by that which the traveller is here supposed to quit, and which conducts through the valley, and thus into the great vale of the Tumel. Yet those who have time, will find an hour or two well bestowed m proceeding so far along it as to surmount the hill, and thus to gain a view of the general vale of the Tumel, different from that which they will obtain by holding on the way which they have here departed from on the left hand. The splendour and brilliancy of this rich and green valley are thus seen in greater detail; nor is the position too elevated for the pencil. From this point also, Schihallien, always majestic, is perhaps viewed even to greater advantage than from any other place all the wood which covers the margin of the take and the green meadows that surround it, being visible, diminishing in 'i succession of trees more and more minute, till at last, as they rise up the blue acclivities of the mountains, they are lost in the purple haze.

Hence also, he whose time docs not urge, should ascend from the valley to the house of Fincastle, singularly situated in a recess of the mountain acclivity that conducts towards Blah, and surrounded with ash trees of the most luxuriant and picturesque forms. He, indeed, should traverse the whole of this hilly land, directing his steps by the: groups of ash which he will see at a distance, scattered over it. Not only does this ride furnish a relief to the eye from the almost wearisome richness of all the preceding scenes, but the trees are in themselves studies; while In the torrents, and broken ground, and other minute circumstances by which they are attended, an artist will find many valuable and interesting subjects for the exercise ff his art.

It would be an endless task to name the points where new landscapes occur in returning and proceeding now onwards; since, in both directional. whether looking at the course of the Tumel or down, the views vary at every angle and turn of the way. But there are here two roads, the one at a loner level than the other. From the lowest, the pictures are less grand than on the higher elevations, but one point at least must be excepted, where the first glimpse of the fine blue cone of Schihallien is seen forming the distance to the long woody vista of rocky mountain and forest. The valley, in this part, has assumed a new character. Simpler in its form, the remote boundary is still the noble conical outline of Ben Vrackie, with its dark woods and its deep ravines ; while, from the shadowy course of the river beneath, wooded precipice and naked rock and solid forest rise along the romantic acclivities, till the deep torrrents, with their attendant waving and broken line;> of wood, the wild groups of loose birches deep sheltered in some shadowy hollow, and the diminishing forms of rocks and brown heathy knolls vanish in the sky.

This lowest road, I must also remark, conducts to a ferry and a ford across the Tumel, which will enable the traveller to pass to the opposite side of the river, and thus to gain access to row scenes, which I shall shortly notice. About this ferry, and at points too numerous to Mention, there are many other interesting views of the rivet and the valley all sufficiently distinct and full of character, yet, as consisting, verbally, of. the same elements, incapable ot' being so described in words as to appear different;

In all these scenes, however beautiful and romantic the naked forms of the mountains are, the birch woods are an essential ingredient; since they are the cause of that richness which is so peculiar to all this valley , and of that grace and lightness which are so singularly combined with the massive and somewhat ponderous simplicity of the ground. Where they form continuous woods, the roundness of their forms, and an apparent compactness of foliage, cause them to produce the same rich swelling effect, and to assume the same wavy and intricate surface, as ancient oak woods; nor indeed, except in their superior lightness and delicacy of colour, would they be distinguishable at a distance, by an eye unused to them. When single, the delicacy of their ramifications, and the- long flowing and silvery lines of their trunks and branches, are not less beautiful and characteristic; while, from the positions which they have found tor themselves, whether solitary or in groups, they effect what no art could, and produce what Nature could not here spare without suffering severely.

It is indeed the land ot' the birch: that is ever the soul and the spirit of the landscape; and tc rob it of this tree would be to deprive it of the better part of its value and beauty. Yet I fear that the axe has already been laid to its root While the pen was in ray hand, I heard its sound; and I much suspect that before these pages shall see the light, the traveller who trusts to ray description will have reason to complain that he has been disappointed in the reality. Yet he must not complain of him who has faithfully described what he saw; a world of forest and beauty; but of the poor avarice which. for the sake of a few pounds, has robbed, and is fast robbing Scotland everywhere, of ancient ornaments that can never be replaced. The wood has unfortunately been discovered to be fit for Herring casks : and now, not only the axe, but the circular saw mill, is at work everywhere: the latter machine adding to a temptation which, from the low price of the wood, was formerly insufficient. We cannot expect that proprietors will sacrifice their property to the amusement of others; but, in these cases, and for s paltry profit, they are destroying their own; as it is round their own houses, or on the most ornamental part of their possessions, that they are committing this ruin. The coppice grows again, but the birch never; so that the destruction is complete; as the pasturage of cattle in these unenclosed lands prevents the young plants from ever springing again.

For nearly five miles, which is the distance from Garry bridge to the margin of the great vale of Loch Tumel, the general features thus described continue without any variation of the leading characters. Still the spectator is buried in woods and surmounted by rocky hills: still he sees before him the same valley, unterminated, and. apparently, interminable. lie looks forward to no change, and has almost ceased to feel any impression from that which has for some time palled on his eye; when, in an instant, and as if by magic, he finds that the whole valley has vanished as if it had never existed, and he sees spread far beneath him, in gay confusion, the rich and distant "ale of the Tumel, with its bright and beautiful lake, its towering Schihallien, and its far distant range of blue mountains. It is impossible to imagine a surprise more complete, or a change of character more entire and sudden ; such is the contrast, and so perfect, between the close, rocky, woody glen, and the spacious tango of open and distant scenery, rich in minute wood and checquered cultivation and green meadow, and bright with its wide silvery lake and its meandering river.

It is unnecessary for him to proceed further in this direction, as this is the last point to which 'his guide proposes at present to conduct him on this road. But that he may view this scene with all the advantages in his power, he must now enter a field on his left, where, on a green hill, he may sit at his leisure and contemplate all that he sees, displayed in a manner and form still more perfect.

From this eminence, a rapid and almost precipitous descent, of intermixed grassy slopes and woods and rocky faces, allows him to look down on the Tumel itself, as, at a distance of many hundred feet beneath him, it issues brown and dark from its glassy lake, among rich woods and scattered trees, meandering in endless variety and it is lost in the valley which he has just uttered. Turning back, he may now contrast this valley with the scene before him; nor is the contrast, thus made, less remarkable than at first, though now divested of the effect of surprise. Here also the valley affords in object even more picturesque than formerly; deeper, broader, more simple, and more majestic, but still equally wild and equally ornamented. On the opposite side, the fine screen of wild hills which bounds the vale of the Tumel to the southward, is surmounted by the rugged outline of Ferrogon and the beautifully simple and conical top of Schihallien; the w hole \ alley being detailed in ail its green and splendid richness of wood and meadow and cultivation, fading at length from the eye towards the blue mountains of Glencoe; the opposite boundary presenting a continued succession of birch forests and cultivation and farms, rising upwards to the brown moorland of the hills, and gradually disappearing among the hazy tints of the horizon The lake, reflecting every tree on its margin, spreads blue and calm tar beneath the eye; while, immediately tinder our feet, the high over-shadowing rocks and trees blacken its bright glassy surface, as, working it« way through the narrow pass, it forms the river, long undistinguishable from its parent lake.

The triple and blue mountain seen in the remotest distance, is part of that ridge of which Buachaille Etive is the chief, and which separates that wild valley from Loch Etive Thus, from this station, we almost gain a sight of the western sea, which is only thus excluded by the altitude of the mountains of that rude country. Between the end of the vale of the Tumel and that distant object, there thus lies the moor of Rinnoch, with its lake; but the latter is invisible, except from the higher summits which surround this position. It is not, however, a very distant ride, even to that lake; and the traveller who is so inclined, may easily compass this object, and return within the day to Blair, by proceeding through Glen Erockie: as the distance does not exceed twelve miles. Mount Alexander offers considerable temptations to this expedition, as does the whole course of the Tumel, to those who chose to proceed from Fin castle, formerly mentioned, or from the very point where the spectator is now supposed to be But, though this expedition lies beyond the limits which I had proposed to myself, I trust that the reader will not be displeased with a slight notice of it, before returning to the description of the .remainder of the scenery, still unseen, which lies oil this portion of the Tumel.

Supposing that the traveller has reached the military road which leads from Amulrie to Dalnacardoch, by proceeding from Blair through Glen Frockie, it is adviseable to follow it to Tumel bridge, and thence to trace the course of the Tumel, upwards to Mount Alexander; after which, he may pursue the high road to Kinloch Uanuoch. From Tumel bridge, the river is no longer that splendid stream which he: had found it. either in the open vale beneath, or in the deep glen of Coilivrochan. But if it is a wild and rocky torrent, it is also a picturesque one: producing, through one portion of its course, a succession of rapids and cascades, of a very peculiar character, and attended by much beauty. A few of these latter are far from inconspicuous, even as waterfalls; the breadth of the river insuring a considerable turbulence, and the height often varying, from two or three, to five or six feet, or more. They art also numerous, and are various in their appearances ; presenting, nevertheless, one leading character of wildness and rudeness, and being quite dissimilar to any of those which have been already noticed.

It is chiefly in a deep rocky ravine that they recur; the perpendicular sides of which are finely disposed for effect: the masses and fractures of the rocks presenting broad and bold features, while the minuter ornamental parts, harmonizing perfectly with the general character, consist of huge fragments, detached by the violence of the current, thrown into the stream, and adding much to its fury and turbulence, as they do to the variety and picturesque effect of the different scenes. Nor is this all; as, from the crevices and surfaces, wherever they can find root, Fir trees of wild forms and ancient growth art seen starting everywhere; throwing their twisted and fantastic arms about, and aiding. with the ruggedness and general nakedness of the rocks, and the whiteness and rage of the river, to produce a class of scenery which will remind the artist of the Norwegian landscape of Ruvsdael, but which is much superior to any of the well-known compositions and portrait of that painter. One point is peculiarly striking, where the river divides round an insulated and lofty rock crowned with firs; and, here, an artist who will be at the trouble of clambering about the various accessible points, will find abundant employment for more than a long day.

The scenery of Mount Alexander is of a still different order, not only from that now described, but from all that has preceded; but it is the last point of the attractions of. the Tumel. The house itself, though mean in style, is a valuable object from many stations: its situation being also peculiarly striking and splendid Thus it forms, with its surrounding wooded grounds, which occupy a bold rocky hill, the central object of a rich and singular landscape , whether as seen in descending from the road above named, or from the flat towards Loch Rannoch. or from other points which I need not detail. The background is the ever-magnificent and graceful Schihallien, now seen impending high above all; rising suddenly from the very house itself, and richly covered with scattered woods and locks, as it sweeps ap from Cross-mount, itself an important object in the landscape.

This region, indeed, affords few more striking pictures than those which may here be procured while they have the merit of being entirely distinct from every thing which the tourist has seen before; even though he should have followed this guide through every step of its progress. Few landscapes convey a more striking impression of space: and of that space which dots not arise from assuming high stations. The views are nowhere geographical, but there is always a multiplicity of objects presented to the eye, in consequence of the variety and the disposition of ground, and the spacious and brilliant breadth of the mountain acclivity; producing that magnificence which must strike the most ordinary spectator, and which the artist well knows how to value. The landscapes of Martin, far less esteemed as yet than they merit, will immediately ex-cur to the critic in art; and will explain, better than words, the peculiar character of this spot.

There is much scenery also here, in a style not much unlike that of the interval between Loch Tumel and the Garry: yet sufficiently different to occupy and interest the spectator who will seek it in that deep and wild interval where the Tumel forces its way between this hill and the foot of Schihailien. But I cannot afford to dwell on it- and shall only add, that although the traveller may prolong his visit to Loch Rannoch. now visible, it offers few temptations, as it is very deficient in picturesque beauty.

As far as the objects ot ordinary tourists are concerned, arid as tar as their resolutions arc likely to extend, the- task which I had undertaken ought to be completed. Nothing remains for those persons hut to return from each scene, disappointed, to dinners over roasted and over boiled, peevish, weary, and belated. It has never been otherwise and never will; because every one expects to see what never was and never w ill be. Of the ten persons who make it matter of necessity, or leisure, or fashion, or imagined health, or imagined taste, to visit what the world visits, nine reckon, chiefly, on what they may have to boast of having seen, or on good inns and good dinners, or on shooting grouse, or bobbing for trouts, or on fatiguing horse- and postillions, or on any thing else but that for which I have torn my coat, worn out my shoes, and inked my fingers. The fractional parts which make the odd one, may contemplate these things to somewhat better effect, each in his several way. But there is now one of the whole ten, were even Claude himself again alive and of tire number, who will not be disappointed; and, simply, because he forgets that no one person can carve out imagination for another, according to the cut and pattern of his own. What is much worse, there is, among the1 mob ot' human imaginations, a conspiracy against the unfortunate author, to exceed whatever is told. Let his writing be like that of Gray and Scott, or let him equal Wheatley, or stand on the highest ranges of the ladder with Virgil and Milton, or on the bottom stave with C'rabbe, or let his descriptions be dressed by a good receipt like Mrs. Ratcliffe's, or by a villainous one like Gilpin's, or be as outrageous as the mad prose of a thousand and one novels, or of no assignable character; ill short, let a man write what he may, every one will expect, from the reality, somewhat more than he finds, and everyone will rise disappointed. The imagination runs riot in these matters. If it is but a ghost, we look for him in a white sheet and saucer eyes, breathing blue lights out of his month and nostrils; If it is the Devil, we figure him with tail and horns and cloven feet, and are angry because he comes in the shape of a very personable and well-bred gentleman, dressed in a fashionable suit of black. Some wise man, sensible of these oppressive evils, which beset alike those who write books about lakes and those who pay for the books and a sight of the lakes too, advises authors not to write such descriptions as may tell people what they are to see. A happy thought; saving infinite toil to writer and reader, and easy equally to our carnages and our pockets, by reducing us to the quintessence of all knowledge, condensed into Paterson's Road Book.

But although this tour ought thus to lie finished, there is something in the nature of a postscript that must yet come lagging in behind. There must be some spirits in the world, who will not leave this place without casting back a longing, lingering look; persons who know no use for time but to occupy it well, whose clocks are not in their stomachs, and who do not exactly think that Nature is only rock, wood, and water, water, wood, and reek. For these, there is yet a day in reserve. If I have not already said, that no part of all Scotland contains, in so small a space, scenes so grand, and so various, as this short portion of the Tumel. I have been unjust to it. Such a censure would be still more deserved from those who may follow the track which I am now about to point out; since they will assuredly see that, to which little, even in the romantic scenery of Loch Cateran, can lie compared. for combinations of variety with grandeur.

The .scenes :n question lie in the same valley, but occur on the opposite bank of the river, where there is also a carriage road. Yet as it is necessary to cross one of the fords of the Tumel, it is more convenient to make this expedition on horseback. If the water be low, the ford of Fascally is preferable, because it introduces the visitor more readily to the scenery: when high, it is a hazardous passage, and that on the Tumei should be. chosen. Having attained the opposite side, the same time will conduct the visitor to Loch Tumel as sufficed for that purpose before,

But. he will see things under so new a light, that he will sometimes doubt whether he is in the same place. Yet I think he will not long doubt of the superiority of 'he views on this side; while he may be very certain, that he is looking at what has never yet been seen by mortal man, except by the writer in his hand, who thus claims the merit of a discoverer. To make discoveries in our own island, has a grandiloquous sound, it must be admitted: but if it is a discovery to see what the natives of a country alone had seen before, and what none had ever looked at further than as it might offer so much pasture for so many sheep, the formidable word must even be allowed to stand for what it is worth. He who claims to have discovered Van Dicraen's Lana or Owhyhee, did no more.

In the first portion of this road, taking it up from the ford of Fascally, thr tourist will gain a second access to the noble lad of the Tumel, and under new forms and new combinations. It is true that he cannot well place himself so neat to the cascade; but he will obtain new pictures of nearly equal interest, and with variations in the foreground, in particular, which are very interesting and very striking. In this way also, he changes the surrounding landscape, even in a greater degree than he does the waterfall; so as to give the whole a totally new character, and thus to add. almost a new cascade to his catalogue and his collection.

Hence the road winds up the hill beneath the wild overhanging rocks and woods, in an intricate and romantic direction j and it is here that it will remind the traveller most particularly, in case he should have seen it, of the steep acclivity of Ben Venu about the Coir-nan-uriskin and the pass of Bal!och-nam-bo. Thus it produces many of those peculiar landscapes which belong to mountain declivities, but which occur, in this style, nowhere in the Highlands, except at the place now mentioned, between Loch Earn and Comrie, and near the western Loch Leven. Nor do I know that these spots, beautiful as they are, are superior (to this one for romantic grandeur; while, if the whole space to Loch Tumel be included, they fall short of it in variety.

I need not, and indeed could not, to any purpose, dwell more minutely on this particular class of the scenery found on this mountain road. But that is far from ail which it enables the traveller to see ; as it affords many magnificent landscapes of the rocky and woodv valley beneath him which he had formerly passed through, and of all the woods that surround ("oilivrochan and are scattered up the sides of the rocky hills above it. Here also, that fortunately designed and accidental house forms, often, an important object in the landscape; while, from many positions, the deep downward bed end course of the river are seen, as its bright glimpses break through the dense vet light masses of the birch woods that close over it, Thus there are produced numerous pictures, in a style of similar magnificent richness and wildness; yet differing entirely in their details from all the former ones, in consequence of the different character of the northern boundary of the valley, which now forms the leading object in the landscape.

One main peculiarity arising from this roaa, and which is chiefly conducive, as well to its novelty as to its grandeur of effect, is the altitude at which it is conducted above the bottom of the valley. Hence a greater scope is allowed to the eve; alia though many of the pictures are thus taken out of the hands and the power of the painter they gain incalculably in beauty as mere objects of contemplation. Another of its peculiarities, and another leading cause of its beauty, is its tortuous intricacy, as it is guided among the mazes of the rocks and protuberances, now surmounting some rude knoll, then plunging into a deep gully; sometimes winding its difficult way behind rocks, and, at others, lost in woods, or again emerging from them into the open day. Thus there is produced a rapid succession of close and open scenery; the overhanging rocks and precipices and the wild woods, giving way to the open, spacious, and elevated landscape, till, at last, the summit of the hill being reached, the vale of the Tumel once more breaks, in all its splendour of ornament and extent, on the sight.

That view is also different from either of the preceding: but I must pass from it, as being already described as far as is needfull. Hence, however, I should counsel the traveller who has thus far trusted himself to this guidance, to proceed ; and thus to gain the level of the lake and the vale of the Tumel. The whole descent, occupying more than a mile, is full of beauty ; whether in the objects near at hand through which he must pass, or in the more distant landscape which lies on the opposite side of the farm-houses have a character of beauty, in their situations at least, which is quite peculiar to this place, and they abound in picturesque effect; from the forms of the ground, the deep ravines and torrents near which they often lie, and the luxuriant and graceful wood and general richness by which they are surrounded. Hence also, by diverging to the banks of the river, and particularly near its exit from the lake, numerous pictures may be obtained: and these, once more presenting a new style, and new varieties of character, that are quite unexpected.

The level of the valley and the margin of the lake once attained, almost every thing which marked the former scenes, disappears. We find ourselves amid luxuriant green meadows and among ash trees; as if suddenly transferred to the rich plains of Staffordshire or Kent; while, all along the batiks of the liver, now a sweet and gently gliding pastoral stream, everything breathes of placidity and repose. The landscape now is a landscape of trees: often, it is a landscape that Hobbima might have painted, while we have parted with ail in which Salvator might have gloried and Poussin delighted.

The ford of Foss will now give the tourist au opportunity of passing the river, without the trouble of going round by Tumel bridge: and thus he may return by Coilivrothan, or by Fincastie, as he may prefer. In either way, he may contrive, without difficulty, to include this last expedition within the limits of a day; and it is a day of which he will, assuredly, never repent.

But it is time to draw this work to a close; if, indeed, that ought net to have been done sooner. I am sensible that the rigid limits of Blair have been more than once passed; but so connected is all this tract of picturesque scenery, 'hat it was scarcely possible to find a point where to stop, short, at least, of that entire range of associated country, which has now been included in the present sketch. As Blair is, in reality, the head quarter to the whole, the promise to the reader has been as much kept here as in the case of Dunkeld; although the circle has been wider and the details more numerous.

If these notices and directions, such as they are, shall add to the enjoyment of the mere traveller, by pointing out what he might have passed without remark, or aid the pursuits of the artist, by shortening his labours and directing his researches, the objects of these pages have been fully attained. Having, myself, derived much gratification from the various beauties of this country, and having, at the same time, arrived at this knowledge, not without much toil and many seasons of wandering among 'hem, I was anxious to impart to others those pleasures which I have received, and desirous that all should profit, as far as their time: and means may allow, by my own labours. Scotland deserves to be far better known than it yet is, m many other parts that those which have here been selected for remark; and, the more it is known, the more will its picturesque beauties rise in value, and increase in numbers. How much of the same nature yet remains to be done, and how much the landscape of this country has been neglected, it is scarcely necessary to say; and, were it said, it would perhaps be scarcely credited. But the pursuit is almost a new one , and it is, indeed, rather an advantage, that we yet possess an unexhausted country, and a treasure of unsuspected and unknown beauties.

Hereafter, it is possible that the author and the "gentle reader,'' whom it is no longer the kind and good fashion to conciliate, may meet again, and on another and a wider field. In the mean time, they must part - hut the author will part «ith less regret from a subject retailing many happy days, if he can reflect that hut one suth day has been thus added to the catalogue of his reader's pleasurable hours.