is introduced more
gradually and partially to the eye, though the approach must be still
considered as extremely beautiful. There is still, we believe, a
footpath left open, by which the station at the Wicks of Baiglie may be
approached; and the traveller, by quitting his horse or equipage, and
walking a few hundred yards, may still compare the real landscape with
the sketch which we have attempted to give. But it is not in our power
to communicate, or in his to receive, the exquisite charm which surprise
gives to pleasure, when so splendid a view arises when least expected or
hoped for, and which Chrystal Croftangry experienced when he beheld, for
the first time, the matchless scene.

Childish wonder, indeed, was an ingredient in my delight, for I was not
above fifteen years old; and as this had been the first excursion which
I was permitted to make on a pony of my own, I also experienced the
glow of independence, mingled with that degree of anxiety which the most
conceited boy feels when he is first abandoned to his own undirected
counsels. I recollect pulling up the reins without meaning to do so,
and gazing on the scene before me as if I had been afraid it would shift
like those in a theatre before I could distinctly observe its different
parts, or convince myself that what I saw was real. Since that hour, and
the period is now more than fifty years past, the recollection of that
inimitable landscape has possessed the strongest influence over my
mind, and retained its place as a memorable thing, when much that was
influential on my own fortunes has fled from my recollection. It is
therefore unnatural that, whilst deliberating on what might be brought
forward for the amusement of the public, I should pitch upon some
narrative connected with the splendid scenery which made so much
impression on my youthful imagination, and which may perhaps have that
effect in setting off the imperfections of the composition which ladies
suppose a fine set of china to possess in heightening the flavour of
indifferent tea.

The period at which I propose to commence is, however, considerably
earlier of the remarkable historical transactions to which I have
already alluded, as the events which I am about to recount occurred
during the last years of the 14th century, when the Scottish sceptre was
swayed by the gentle but feeble hand of John, who, on being called to
the throne, assumed the title of Robert the Third.

CHAPTER II.