re attempts to unravel the mystery of these
primitive sculptures must not only in gratitude but in common justice
pay homage to the services of Mr John Stuart, the secretary of the
Antiquaries' Society of Scotland, to whose learning and zeal he owes the
collective means of examining them. It will interest many to know that
Mr Stuart has been at work again, and has a second collection of
transcripts, in some respects even more instructive than the first.
These will show, for instance, the point of junction between the
sculptures of the East and of the West, which, in their extreme special
features, are widely unlike each other.

In the mean time, as the reader is perhaps tired of all this talk about
books, and I would fain part with him in good humour, I venture to take
him on an imaginary ramble in the wilds of Argyllshire, in search of
specimens of ancient native sculpture, that he may have an opportunity
of noticing how much has yet to be gleaned off this stony field. So we
are off together, on a fresh summer morning, along the banks of the
Crinan Canal, until we reach the road which turns southward to Loch Swin
and Taivalich. After ascending so far, we strike off by a scarcely
discernible track, and climb upwards among the curiously broken
mountains of South Knapdale. When we are high enough up we look on the
other side of the first ridge, and see the brown heather dappled with
tiny lakes, looking like molten silver dropped into their hollows; while
far below, one of the countless branches of Loch Swin winds through a
narrow inlet, among rocks cushioned to the water's edge with deep green
foliage. We are not to descend to the region of lake and woodland,
betrayed by this glimpse, but to keep the wilder upland; and at last, in
a secluded hollow near the small tarn called Lochcolissor, we reach a
deserted village--a collection of roofless stone houses, looking, if one
judged from mere externals, as if they might in their early days have
given shelter to Columba or Oran. In the centre of this group of
domestic ruins is an affluent fountain of the clearest water. Standing
over it is the object of our search--a tall, grey, profusely-lichened
stone. At first it seems amorphous, as geologists say; but a closer view
discloses on the one side a cross incised, on the other a network of
floral decorations in relief. To trace these in their completeness, it
would be necessary to accomplish the not easy task of removing the
coati