Long before we get halfway to the top of the range we take repeated opportunities of noticing how sharply and distinctly its outline is defined against the horizon, and how clearly the scars and wrinkles on its broad and openly honest face stand out. As we continue our climb up the braes we notice with pleasure that the lights and shades on their breast are beautifully intermingled, a sure sign that there will be little rain to-day. Before we reach the northern slope we take a look at Antirmony Loch at our feet, a little to the east, one of the finest sheets of water within 20 miles of Glasgow, and at Glorat House, about as far to the west, the residence of one of the oldest families in the county (Sir Charles Stirling). On reaching the summit we are only some 12 miles or so from the dusty, drowsy, smoky metropolis, and yet are in what may be called the Lowland Highlands. We stand upon an eminence of only a few hundred feet above sea level, and yet the landscape stretched out below is sufficiently wide and varied to warrant us in thinking that we stand much higher in the world. Right below us are the little hamlets of Milton and Birdston, with Kirkintilloch and Lenzie, and their church spires standing out clear and bright in the glowing sunshine. To the right is the cosy-looking strath of Campsie, commanded by Lennox Castle, in the boldest style of Norman architecture. The proprietor is said to be in the direct succession of the Earls of Lennox, but this is a subject on which our limited genealogical knowledge forbids us to enlarge. Away in the south-west we catch a glimpse of Glasgow, cloud-capped and grey; beyond it are the flats of Renfrew and the surrounding country, the monotony of which in a clear day is somewhat relieved by the blue tops of the Paisley and Kilmalcolm hills. Looking across the valley at our feet we can see the streams trickle like silver threads, and the sunbeams tremble and play in mingled gleams of green and yellow. Wonderful hills those old Campsie hills, with what might be called the Garden of Scotland at their base (for is not this the earliest part of Scotland, speaking from an agricultural point of view?) and the glory of God’s sunshine on their brows. Those in city pent, and those whose days are for the most part spent in the rush and crush of business could not enjoy an afternoon to more profit and pleasure than up here. From the summit of these hills, down past the eastern base of the Meikle Ben a little to the north of us, there is no carriage drive to the Fintry and Denny Road; but, for all that, the walk does not seem to be one of any great difficulty, whereas, on the other hand, the way would be beguiled by scenes of rarest beauty. We have made the stiff uphill walk or climb to this in a little less than an hour; but the bracing air, the scenery around us, far and near, and some pleasant seats on the soft turf have made us forget all fatigue.