"I myself have known Some Rocks and Hills return _six_ words for _one_: The _dancing_ words from Hill to Hill rebound, They all _receive_ and all _restore_ the sound. The _Vulgar_ and the Neighbours think, and tell, That there the _Nymphs_ and _Fauns_ and _Satyrs_ dwell; And that _their_ wanton sport, _their loud_ delight Breaks thro' the _quiet_ silence of the Night; There _Music's_ softest Ayrs fill all the Plains, And mighty _Pan_ delights the list'ning Swains. The _Goat-faced Pan_, whilst Flocks securely feed, With _long-hung lip_ he blows his Oaten Reed; The horn'd, the half-beast God, when brisk and gay, With Pine-leaves crown'd, provokes the Swains to play. Ten thousand such _Romants_ the Vulgar tell, Perhaps lest men should think the Gods will dwell In _Towns_ alone, and scorn their _Plains_, and Cell: Or somewhat; for Man, _credulous_ and _vain_, Delights to _hear_ strange things--delights to _feign_." Sir John Sinclair's "Statistical Account of Scotland, 1792," says:--"About eight miles to the eastward of Cailleachbear, a conical hill rises considerably above the neighbouring hills. It is called Siensluai, the fairy habitation of a multitude." He adds, in a note:--"A belief in fairies prevailed very much in the Highlands of old, nor at this day is it quite obliterated. The small, conical hill Siensluai was assigned them for a dwelling, from which melodious music was frequently heard, and gleams of light seen on dark nights." In the account of the parish of Kirkmichael, we read: "Not more firmly established in this country is the belief in ghosts than that in fairies. The legendary records of fancy, transmitted from age to age, have assigned their mansions to that class of genii in detached hillocks, covered with verdure, situated on the banks of purling brooks, or surrounded by thickets of wood. They derive this name from the practice of the Druids, who were wont occasionally to retire to green eminences to administer justice, establish peace, and compose differences between contending parties. As that venerable order taught a _saogh hal_, or world beyond the present, their followers, when they were no more, fondly imagined that seats, where they exercised a virtue so beneficial to mankind, were still inhabited by them in their disembodied state. In the autumnal season, when the moon shines from a serene sky, often is the wayfaring traveller arrested by the music of the hills, more melodious than the strains of Orpheus. Often struck with a more solemn scene, he beholds the visionary hunters engaged in the chase and pursuing the din of the clouds, while the hollow rocks, in long-sounding echoes, reverberate their cries. There are several now living who assert that they have been suddenly surrounded by visionary forms, have seen and heard their aerial hunting, and been assailed by a multitude of voices."