unds, a solemn grandeur in the mountains, and the castle was wild, yet
stately, not dismantled of its turrets, nor the walls broken down, though
completely in ruin. After having stood some minutes I joined William on
the high road, and both wishing to stay longer near this place, we
requested the man to drive his little boy on to Dalmally, about two miles
further, and leave the car at the inn. He told us that the ruin was
called Kilchurn Castle, that it belonged to Lord Breadalbane, and had
been built by one of the ladies of that family for her defence during her
Lord's absence at the Crusades, for which purpose she levied a tax of
seven years' rent upon her tenants; {139a} he said that from that side of
the lake it did not appear, in very dry weather, to stand upon an island;
but that it was possible to go over to it without being wet-shod. We
were very lucky in seeing it after a great flood; for its enchanting
effect was chiefly owing to its situation in the lake, a decayed palace
rising out of the plain of waters! I have called it a palace, for such
feeling it gave to me, though having been built as a place of defence, a
castle or fortress. We turned again and reascended the hill, and sate a
long time in the middle of it looking on the castle and the huge mountain
cove opposite, and William, addressing himself to the ruin, poured out
these verses:--

Child of loud-throated War! the mountain stream
Roars in thy hearing; but thy hour of rest
Is come, and thou art silent in thy age. {139b}

We walked up the hill again, and, looking down the vale, had a fine view
of the lake and islands, resembling the views down Windermere, though
much less rich. Our walk to Dalmally was pleasant: the vale makes a turn
to the right, beyond the head of the lake, and the village of Dalmally,
which is, in fact, only a few huts, the manse or minister's house, the
chapel, and the inn, stands near the river, which flows into the head of
the lake. The whole vale is very pleasing, the lower part of the
hill-sides being sprinkled with thatched cottages, cultivated ground in
small patches near them, which evidently belonged to the cottages.

We were overtaken by a gentleman who rode on a beautiful white pony, like
Lilly, and was followed by his servant, a Highland boy, on another pony,
a little creature, not much bigger than a large mastiff, on which were
slung a pair of crutches and a tartan plaid. The gentleman entered into
c