'Far to the south and east, where lay Extended in succession gay, Deep waving fields and pastures green, With gentle slopes and groves between: _These_ fertile plains, _that_ softened vale, Were once the birth-right of the _Gäel_; The _stranger_ came, with iron hand, And from our fathers reft the land.' And as Roderick continues, addressing the king: 'Thinkst thou we will not sally forth To spoil the spoiler as we may, And from the robber rend the prey?' A short distance beyond Loch Vennachar, we came to Loch Achray, about a half mile long, and so placid and beautiful, that an Englishman took it for a work of art, and remarked that it was 'very well got up!' On the banks of this lovely lake, surrounded by the grand and lofty _Trosachs_, is the rustic little inn of _Ardchinchrocan_, where we stopped for the day. It 'takes' a Scott to do justice to this charming spot, and the wild but majestic scenery around. It seems far removed from the noise and trouble of the 'work-day world.' After dinner, we took a walk to _Loch Katrine_, through the most sublime and difficult of all the passes through the Grampians--that formed by the Trosachs, or 'bristled territory.' All that is wild and stupendous in mountain scenery here unites: 'High on the south, huge Ben Venue, Down to the lake its masses threw; Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurl'd The fragments of an earlier world.' Not a shrub nor a plant can be seen on these heights. Their rough, gloomy sides form a strange contrast to the green vales below. The _echo_ from them is remarkably distinct. We passed through the shady ravine, where the green knights' gallant grey fell, exhausted after 'the chase.' A few steps from this, the charming Loch Katrine suddenly appears. The upper part only is visible at first, 'the Island' obstructing the view, so that new and varied beauties are discovered at every step. The scene is calculated to inspire and elevate the nobler feelings of the visitor. Passing along the banks, we came to 'the beach of pebbles white as snow,' opposite 'the Island,' where Fitz James first saw Ellen: 'I well believe,' the maid replied, As her light skiff approached the side, 'I well believe that ne'er before Your foot hath trod Loch Katrine's shore.'