ery
tourist has admired, often without inquiring or thinking of the hand
that planned them, were designed by his inventive brain. The exquisite
stone arch which links the two banks of the lesser Scotch Dee in its
gorge at Tongueland is one of the most picturesque; for Telford was a
bit of an artist at heart, and, unlike too many modern railway
constructors, he always endeavoured to make his bridges and aqueducts
beautify rather than spoil the scenery in whose midst they stood.
Especially was he called in to lay out the great system of roads by
which the Scotch Highlands, then so lately reclaimed from a state of
comparative barbarism, were laid open for the great development they
have since undergone. In the earlier part of the century, it is true,
a few central highways had been run through the very heart of that
great solid block of mountains; but these were purely military roads,
to enable the king's soldiers more easily to march against the revolted
clans, and they had hardly more connection with the life of the country
than the bare military posts, like Fort William and Fort Augustus,
which guarded their ends, had to do with the ordinary life of a
commercial town. Meanwhile, however, the Highlands had begun gradually
to settle down; and Telford's roads were intended for the far higher
and better purpose of opening out the interior of northern Scotland to
the humanizing influences of trade and industry.

Fully to describe the great work which the mature engineer constructed
in the Highland region, would take up more space than could be allotted
to such a subject anywhere save in a complete industrial history of
roads and travelling in modern Britain. It must suffice to say that
when Telford took the matter in hand, the vast block of country north
and west of the Great Glen of Caledonia (which divides the Highlands in
two between Inverness and Ben Nevis)--a block comprising the counties
of Caithness, Sutherland, Ross, Cromarty, and half Inverness--had
literally nothing within it worthy of being called a road. Wheeled
carts or carriages were almost unknown, and all burdens were conveyed
on pack-horses, or, worse still, on the broad backs of Highland
lassies. The people lived in small scattered villages, and
communications from one to another were well-nigh impossible. Telford
set to work to give the country, not a road or two, but a main system
of roads. First, he bridged the broad river Tay at Dunkeld, so as t