When the islands are first approached they present, it must be confessed, a somewhat forbidding aspect. Bare, bleak rocks, with a monotonous rounded outline, crowd along the shore, and seem to form all but the very highest portions of the land that meet our view, while such areas of low-ground as we can catch a glimpse of appear to be everywhere covered with a dusky mantle of heath and peat. But, although the general character of the scenery is thus tame and sombre, yet there are certain districts which in their wild picturesqueness are hardly surpassed by many places in the northern Highlands, while one may search the coast-line of the mainland in vain for cliffs to compare with those gaunt walls of rock, against which the great rollers of the Atlantic continually surge and thunder. It is wonderful, too, how, under the influence of a light-blue sky, flecked with shining silvery clouds, the sombre peat-lands lighten up and glow with regal purple and ruddy brown. With such a sky above him, and with a lively breeze fresh from the Atlantic and laden with the sweetness of clover and meadow-hay and heather-bloom sweeping gaily past him, what wanderer in the Outer Hebrides need be pitied? And such days are by no means so rare in these islands as many a jaundiced Lowlander has maintained. It is true that heavy mists and drizzling rain are often provokingly prevalent, and I cannot forget the experience of a sad-hearted exile, who had resided continuously for a year in Lewis, and who, upon being asked what kind of climate that island enjoyed, replied: "Sir, it has no climate. There are nine months of winter, and three months of very bad weather." For myself, I can say that my experience of the climate in June, July, and early August of several years has been decidedly favourable. During those months I found comparatively few days in which a very fair amount of walking and climbing could not be accomplished with ease and pleasure, and that is a good deal more than one could venture to say of Skye and many parts of the west coast of the mainland. The greatest drawback to one's comfort are the midges, which in these islands are beyond measure bloodthirsty, and quite as obnoxious as the most carnivorous mosquitoes. Smoking, and all the other arts and devices by which the designs of these tiny pests are usually circumvented, have no effect upon the Hebridean vampires. In the low-grounds especially they make life a burden. But those who have already become acquainted with the Ross-shire midges, and yet have preserved their equanimity, may feel justified in braving the ferocity of the Hebridean hosts. And if they do so I believe they will be well repaid for their courage. To the hardy pedestrian, especially, who likes to escape from the beaten track laid down in guide-books, it will be a pleasure in itself to roam over a region which has not yet come entirely under the dominion of Mr. Cook. If he be simply a lover of the picturesque he will yet