SCOTLAND, as the reader knows, is a small country. Its length from north to south is two hundred miles, but east and west the country is very narrow, no part of it being more than forty miles from the sea-coast. This small area is divided into what are known as the “Highlands” and “Lowlands,” the two sections being as unlike in the nature of the soil, the character of the scenery, the habits and industries of the people, as though they were a thousand miles apart. To the historian and tourist the Highlands, occupying the northern, or rather the northwestern, portion of Scotland, is by far the most interesting section. The term, Highlands, however, does not, as many people think, designate a broad, level, elevated table-land. On the contrary, the Highlands of Scotland are a wild, savage world by themselves, composed entirely of hills, morasses, mountains, glens, moors, lakes and rivers. For the last fifteen days, I have been in the heart of this enchanted land, locked, as it were, in this rock-ribbed region. I have spent the time in walking through the country; rowing on the lochs, or lakes; climbing mountains; threading glens; exploring caves; talking to the people of high and low degree, thus gaining information of every kind and character, both as to the past and present condition of this wild country and its poverty-stricken people. Hard work this. A man walking through the mountains needs a good sole (soul)—spell it as you please. To me, however, the work (I can not call it by any other name half so appropriate) has been as pleasant as it has been difficult, and as profitable as both combined. When I become very tired, and that is no infrequent occurrence, I spread myself out on the soft side of some projecting rock, high on the mountain side, and there, while resting, I alternately feast my eager eyes on the outstretching landscape, or read from books which I have along for that purpose. I read the “History of Scotland,” “Heart of Midlothian,” “Rob Roy,” “The Lady of the Lake,” “The Lay of the Last Minstrel,” and “Marmion.” In this way I have read much of the history, poetry, and fiction of Scotland while on the spot, or in the immediate neighborhood about which it was written. It lends a new charm and gives an additional zest to what one reads, when he can lift his eyes from the book and behold the places and objects mentioned in its glowing pages.