came under the steeps by
the sea-side, which were bold rocks, mouldering scars, or fresh with
green grass. Under the brow of one of these rocks was a burying-ground,
with many upright grave-stones and hay-cocks between, and fenced round by
a wall neatly sodded. Near it were one or two houses, with out-houses
under a group of trees, but no chapel. The neatness of the
burying-ground would in itself have been noticeable in any part of
Scotland where we have been; but it was more interesting from its
situation than for its own sake--within the sound of the gentlest waves
of the sea, and near so many quiet and beautiful objects. There was a
range of hills opposite, which we were here first told were the hills of
Morven, so much sung of by Ossian. We consulted with some men respecting
the ferry, who advised us by all means to send our horse round the loch,
and go ourselves over in the boat: they were very civil, and seemed to be
intelligent men, yet all disagreed about the length of the loch, though
we were not two miles from it: one said it was only six miles long,
another ten or fifteen, and afterwards a man whom we met told us it was
twenty.

We lost sight of the sea for some time, crossing a half-cultivated space,
then reached Loch Creran, a large irregular sea loch, with low sloping
banks, coppice woods, and uncultivated grounds, with a scattering of corn
fields; as it appeared to us, very thinly inhabited: mountains at a
distance. We found only women at home at the ferry-house. I was faint
and cold, and went to sit by the fire, but, though very much needing
refreshment, I had not heart to eat anything there--the house was so
dirty, and there were so many wretchedly dirty women and children; yet
perhaps I might have got over the dirt, though I believe there are few
ladies who would not have been turned sick by it, if there had not been a
most disgusting combination of laziness and coarseness in the
countenances and manners of the women, though two of them were very
handsome. It was a small hut, and four women were living in it: one, the
mother of the children and mistress of the house; the others I supposed
to be lodgers, or perhaps servants; but there was no work amongst them.
They had just taken from the fire a great pan full of potatoes, which
they mixed up with milk, all helping themselves out of the same vessel,
and the little children put in their dirty hands to dig out of the mess
at their pleasure. I th