Bidding a lingering farewell to the sweet little island, we again embarked and soon completed the residue of our voyage. The foot of Loch Katrine is very romantic and beautiful. Innumerable hills of moderate elevation raise their grey, pointed peaks around and above a deeply wooded glen, opening towards the south-east and forming the outlet of the lake. The highest of these are Ben-venue and Ben-an, rising on each side of the pass. Both are fine mountains, something like two thousand feet in height, with naked masses of granite overhanging wild and woody bases. From the great number of peaks or _pikes_ which are crowded into this narrow district, it has been called the Trosachs, or _bristled region_. The lake is here reduced to less than half a mile in width, sheltered on all sides from the winds by high promontories, jutting so far into the water, as to appear like a group of islands. Towards the north-west, the eye looks up the glen of Strathgartney, in which tradition says that the grey charger of Fitz-James fell. The boatman gravely informed us, that _his bones are to be seen to this day_! Such stories, and the sketches of certain topographers, have afforded us an infinite fund of amusement. We landed at the foot of Loch Katrine, and after walking a mile and a half reached our hotel. WORSHIP. By Asa Cummings. That heart must be desolate indeed, which is a stranger to devotion. Were it possible to remain undevout, and at the same time not be criminal, it were still a state of mind most earnestly to be deprecated. It is a joyless condition, to live without God in the world; to be unsusceptible to the attractions of his moral excellence; to pass the time of our sojourning in a world of trial, without ever communing with the Father of our spirits, or voluntarily casting ourselves on an Almighty arm for support, and breathing forth to the Author of our being, the language of supplication and praise. And how is the effect of devotion heightened by the junction of numbers in the same service--even of the "multitude who keep holy day!" A scene, so honorable to Him "who inhabiteth the praises of Israel," so fit in itself, so congruous to man's social nature and dependant condition, so impressive on the actors and spectators, and so salutary in its influence,--awakened in the "sweet singer of Israel," the most ardent longings for the courts of the Lord, and constituted the glowing theme of more than one of his unrivalled songs. Nay, under the influence of that inspiration which prompted his thoughts and guided his pen, he does not hesitate to affirm:--"_The Lord loveth the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob._"[1]