Linnhe, which presented at every step the most varied and romantic mountain views. Within about three miles of the Fort, I obtained a sudden glimpse of the lofty Ben Nevis, elevating his tabular and massive summits far above the adjacent hills. At the Caledonian Hotel I have again encountered my Scotch acquaintance, and have agreed with him and another gentleman to ascend Ben Nevis to-morrow morning.

August 31.-The same glorious weather invites us to our toilsome march. The distance from the inn to the summit and back again is said to be only fourteen miles; but these are the hardest fourteen miles in Britain. The ascent is more difficult than that of any of the mountains, which I scaled in Switzerland: this is owing chiefly to the loose stones that retard one's progress, and the sharp ridges that bruise one's feet; and also to the extreme steepness of the mountain, which rises directly, a well-defined mass, from the shore of Loch Linhe. When we had accomplished the first most laborious brae, B. was so ill that he wanted to return; however we waited for him some time, and he gradually recovered, so as to proceed with increasing strength. The rills of water are abundant and most refreshing, especially

when qualified with a little whisky. At length we arrived at the first summit, and looked down the fearful precipices on its northerly side-they are quite perpendicular, and from this point of view appeared to form a circular hollow of gigantic proportions, at the bottom of which a man would have dwindled to the size of a crow. It was magnificent to watch the wreathing clouds boil up from this infernal cauldron.

The highest point is considerably above the one I am describing, and we now, therefore, began our last ascent, comparatively an easy one; and when we sat down at the rude cairn, which the travellers have piled up there, we felt fully rewarded for our perseverance and fatigue. I know not whether, even in Switzerland, I have witnessed finer crag scenery, than the summit of Ben Nevis presents. That there are more enormous rocks and deeper abysses among the Alps, I readily grant; but none which can be grasped more palpably by the sense of vision-none which speak in more appalling tones to the sense of fear. With regard to the surrounding view, I, perhaps, cannot speak with justice, because the weather was hazy, and the clouds occasionally veiled it entirely from our sight; but I think it cannot bear

the slightest comparison with the panoramic grandeur of the Righi or the Faulhorn. The mountains are too monotonous, all the outlines being rounded and swelling, instead of soaring into minarets and aiguilles. Still the views are varied by the windings of the shore, the indenting lochs, and the inland lakes, which are seen in all directions; and the great chain of lakes forming the Caledonian Canal, is a very striking feature. My companions were so tired and came down so slowly, that I left the guide with them, and hastened on, to order a substantial meal against their arrival. I must not omit to mention that we were so singularly fortunate, as to espy a huge red deer grazing in one of the glens near the first summit, a noble animal, but too distant to be seen to advantage. Ravens and ptarmigans were flitting through the fog, and one of the former came so near me while I was sketching, that I was positively startled by the amazing noise of his wings.

September 1.-Breakfasted with B., who is a W. S., and has invited me to spend a day with him in Edinburgh. Having a great desire to see the far-famed parallel roads of Glen-Roy, I hired a gig to the Bridge of Roy, and then walked four miles up the glen and back again. It is a deep

gorge in the mountains, at the bottom of which, roars and winds a considerable torrent; but the most remarkable objects in the glen are those three horizontal terraces or roads, which, keeping always at the same level, and always parallel to each other, skirt the sides of the mountains. They exist on both faces of the glen at corresponding elevations, so as to impress one forcibly with the idea that they mark the successive levels of a lake or sea; but the firm belief of every lover of romance is, that these were once vast roads, made by the Fingalians through the deep forests, which once flourished on these desolate hills, in order to assist them in the chase of the deer. And to him, who looks on this wild scene with a poet's eye, it will require but a slender stretch of the imagination to re-clothe the braes with oaks and pines, and catch the spectral forms of the gigantic huntsmen, hurrying with their spears along these level paths. Yet to the calmer reason every thing bespeaks, that the roads of Glenroy are of natural and not artificial formation. For it has been well remarked, that in those rude ages no engineer could have been found with sufficient skill, to construct three routes so exactly horizontal and parallel; nor would he have taken the trouble to carry them

round every nook and recess in the mountains. Besides, if the roads had been cut out of the side of the hill, the slopes above and below them would have been continuous, whereas the slopes are discontinuous, that is, if produced they will not meet each other. Still there is great difficulty in accounting for the phenomenon by natural causes, for since the fossils found in the glen are none of them marine, it is clear that these banks, if ascribable to the operation of water at all, must have been the boundaries of a fresh water lake, successively standing for long periods at three different levels. In this case there must have been some limiting barriers which successively gave way, of which however no trace can be now discovered. Similar terraces have been observed in other parts of the Highlands, and also in Peru; these of Glenroy are generally about sixty feet wide, but the American roads are so broad, as to put the supposition of their having been constructed by human labour quite out of the question. After dining at the Bridge of Roy, I returned in the gig to Fort William, highly pleased with the examination of this geological valley.

September 2.—A gig conveyed me as far as Kinloch Aylort, through scenes as lonely and sa