In this mass of observations not more than ten pages, all told, have anything to do with the scenery through which he passed. Such descriptive passages as do occur are usually of torrents, rapid, rocky rivers, or the shores of lakes. The best of these are of the banks of the Nith, the falls of CoryLin in the Clyde, the Cascades at Moness, which he calls “an epitome of everything that can be admired in the curiosity of waterfalls,” the falls and streams near Loch Maree, Aysgarth Force in the Ure, the little lake of Barrisdale on the Inverness coast, Coniston, and Derwentwater. He prides himself on being one of the first to describe Coniston. The scenery about this lake, which is scarcely mentioned, is extremely noble. The east and west sides are bounded by high hills often wooded; but in general composed of grey rock, and coarse vegetation; much juniper creeps along the surface; and some beautiful hollies are finely intermixed. At the northwestern extremity the vast mountains called Coniston fells form a magnificent mass. In the midst is a great bosom retiring inward, which affords great quantities of fine slate. He very often notes wide views, and he has an unfailing interest of a scientific, botanical sort in the forests through which they pass. He never, however, notes any but the permanent details of a scene. There is not a hint that he saw the varying, evanescent, atmospheric effects, so important an element in the beauty and sublimity of mountain scenery. He does admit that the “Highlands like other beauties, have their good and bad days,” but there is nothing in his books to show that he knew them apart. On the whole he shows a preference for a region of smooth, rich, arable land. On leaving the Highlands his comment is, The country continually improves; the mountains sink gradually into small hills; the land is highly cultivated, well planted, and well inhabited. I was struck with rapture at a sight so long new to me. Nothing can equal the contrast between the black, barren, dreary glens of the morning ride and the soft scenes of the evening. He dislikes the Borrowdale end of Derwentwater where “all the possible variety of Alpine scenery is exhibited, with all the horror of precipice, broken crag, or overhanging rock, or insulated pyramidal hills.” He prefers the outlook toward Skiddaw. But the opposite or northern view is in all respects a strong and beautiful contrast; Skiddaw shows its vast base, and bounding all that part of this vale, rises gently to a height that sinks the neighboring hills; opens a pleasing front, smooth and verdant, smiling over the country like a gentle, generous lord, while the fells of Barrowdale frown upon it like a hardened tyrant. Skiddaw is covered with grass to within half a mile of the summit; after which it becomes stony.