Among the most attractive objects are some of the lakes that lie around; you see the upper part of Loch Katrine, reminding you that you are not so far from home after all, on the one side of Ben Venue, and the whole of Ard on the other, with its beautiful cascade of Ledard. You cannot see its water, but you can see the exact spot where it is, with its fall of 12 feet into a basin formed of solid rock, and the water so transparent that at the depth of 10 feet the smallest pebble can be seen. From this basin it dashes over a ledge of rock and precipitates itself again over an irregular slope of more than 50 feet—a place peculiarly interesting from having been described by Sir W. Scott both in “Waverley” and “Rob Roy.” And yonder is the Lake of Menteith, with its soft pastoral beauty, and its three islands, Inchmahorne, “the Isle of Rest,” with its ancient priory, which in its day was visited by Bruce, and Mary, and James VI.; Tulla, or Cat’s Isle, where the Earls of Menteith lived; and the little Dog Island, where the kennel was. Between these lakes (Menteith and Ard) you can also see the snugly sheltered clachan of Aberfoyle, which can boast of a thermometer standing at 80 degrees in the shade, and sometimes even at 84 degrees, and in whose churchyard there is the grave of a Pat (or Patrick) Graham, a member of the Menteith family, who was “vicar of Aberfoyle” about the Revolution; and also the grave of Rob. Kirk, who had a chief share in translating the Psalms into Gaelic, “Hiberniæ linguæ lumen.” There also we can trace the track of the Glasgow water supply, a little above Loch Katrine. Losing sight of it and Loch Chon by some rising ground, you see it again over the hilly country between Loch Ard and Gartmore, and can picture it in your mind, flowing through the Moss of Flanders, round the shoulder of Dungoin, away yonder at the end of the Strathblane range, a very river of health and life. And just below you are some of the sources of the Forth, at the place called in Gaelic, Skid-n’uir, or ridge of yew trees (which, however, are not now to be seen). Here there rises a pretty copious spring, which divides into two parts, the one going to the German Ocean, and the other into the Atlantic, _via_ Loch Lomond. The Forth is soon joined by the Duchray, and becomes a considerable river; and, as you see it here, you can quite forgive the pride of Bailie Nicol Jarvie as he said, “That’s the Forth,” with an air of reverence which, Francis Osbaldistone tells us, the Scotch usually pay to their distinguished rivers. The fall from Gartmore to Stirling is not more than 18 feet, as was found by the measurement which was taken when it was proposed to take the great canal up the bed of the Forth and join the Clyde by Loch Lomond and the Leven.