There has been many a visit paid to the summit of Ben Ledi since that day, but the largest, probably, and certainly the most enthusiastic party was that which went up to erect the Jubilee Cairn. The loyal Highlanders and the inhabitants of the classic district embracing Loch Lubnaig, Loch Vennachar, and Glenfinlas, in answer to a summons, which, like the “fiery cross,” was carried down the valley of the Teith, and up the Pass of Leny by the Kirk of St. Bride, erected a cairn on the top of an older one, which had existed for sometime, but had probably been blown down by the high winds which sweep across the hills with great violence. The new cairn, which was erected out of an abundant supply of building material to be found in the summit, has a base of 14 feet, and its height is equal to its diameter. It is chiefly made up of great slabs of a slaty sandstone, which had, we understand, to be dug, in not a few cases, out of the mountain side, in which they were embedded, in some cases, several feet. At a height of 12 feet the slaty material was no longer used, and for the next 2 feet, to the summit, the cairn consists of white quartz, which, when the sun shines upon it, has a beautiful effect even at some little distance. The fact that the cairn only took five hours to be “begun, continued, and ended,” speaks volumes for the number and the diligence of the willing and loyal workers. And if the cairn is not quite as firm as the “Eddystone Lighthouse,” it will at least outlive the reign of the next two of our crowned heads. But though the jubilee builders were numerous, and although the quartz on the crown of the cairn can shine and sparkle in the proper given circumstances, these are as nothing to the concourse of grave Druid priests who used to worship here, and to the glittering of their fires far and wide. It is said that at sunset on the night before the first of May they found their way to this summit ready to welcome the rising of the God of day with a fire offering, which could be seen from all parts of the Lowlands of Scotland from the German Ocean to the Atlantic, and which the superstitious natives took to be kindled by the hand of God. All private and domestic fires had been put out, and the country was universally waiting for the first gleam of the new Bal-tein, or Baal-fire from heaven, for another year. As we rest behind the Jubilee Cairn to eat our biscuit and cheese, and get shelter from a stiff north-wester, we again and again look round in all directions, but the views to be had are at once so grand and so various that it would only bewilder the reader to go into details, and we would recommend him to lose no time, but embrace the first opportunity he has of making the ascent and getting the view himself. One other reason why we should not go into particulars is that we have to embrace much of the same prospect that we had on Ben Venue, although with this difference that we have now a much better view away to the north.