“My next day’s journey carried me to Edinburgh, where I staid about ten days. I passed my time there very agreeably, receiving every polite attention from all the people of distinction in the town. I never saw anything equal to the hospitality of the Scotch. Every one seemed to make it their business to attend me to all the fine places in the neighbourhood, to invite me to dinner, to supper, etc. As I had declined an invitation to go to Glasgow, the Lord Provost of Glasgow insisted on my coming to his villa near the town, instead of going to a noisy inn. I staid three days there to see the seats in the environs, and the great cathedral, and the college and academy for painting, and then I set out for Inverary. I should first tell you, Glasgow is the most beautiful town in Great Brittain. The houses, according to the Scotch fashion, are large and high, and built of freestone; the streets very broad, and built at right angles. All dirty kinds of business are carried on in separate districts, so that nothing appears but a noble and elegant simplicity. “My road from Glasgow to Inverary lay by the side of the famous lake called Loughlomon. Never did I see the sublime and beautiful so united. The lake is in some places eight miles broad, in others less; adorned with many islands, of which some rise in a conical figure, and are covered with fir-trees up to the summit. Other islands are flatter. Deer are feeding in their green meadows. In the lontananza rise the mountains, on whose barren breast “‘The labouring clouds do seem to rest.’ The lake is bright as crystal, and the shore consists of alabaster pebbles. Thus I travelled near twenty miles, till I came to the village of Leess, where I lay at an inn, there being no gentleman’s house near it. The next morning I began to ascend the Highland mountains. I got out of the chaise to climb to the top of one, to take my leave of the beautiful lake. The sun had not been long up; its beams danced on the lake, and we saw this lovely water meandering for twenty-five miles. Immediately after I returned to my chaise, I began to be inclosed in a deep valley between vast mountains, down whose furrowed cheeks torrents rushed impetuously, and united in a river in a vale below. Winter’s rains had so washed away the soil from some of the steep mountains, there appeared little but the rock which, like the skeleton of a giant, appeared more terrible than the perfect form. Other mountains were covered with a dark brown moss. The shaggy goats were browsing on their sides. Here and there appeared a storm-struck tree or blasted shrub, from whence no lark ever saluted the morn with joyous hymn, or Philomel sooth’d the dull ear of night; but from thence the eagle gave the first lessons of flight to her young, and taught them to make war on the kids.