litter and awe,
And lapses swiftly in the dismal maw
Of darkness, 'mid the din of thunder dire.
But to relieve the sad night's sullenness,
And clear the heavens for the timid moon,
The straight-descending rain riots like hail
For a fierce hour, in prodigal excess;
Anon the clouds unmuffle, and the pale,
Thin crescent of Diana gilds night's noon."

The place of meeting at Ardeonaig was on the shores of Loch Tay, and the
main road from Killin is high up and does not go near the water at this
point. After alighting from the machine, I had to descend to the
loch-side by a steep, miry, and circuitous road through a wood. As the
"thin crescent of Diana," alluded to above, was not adequate to light my
footsteps here, I struck some futile vestas, which the dripping leaves
at once extinguished. Two elders, swinging lanterns and calling me by
name, by and by divided the night in my vicinity. Their appearance was
welcome, for the torrential rain had made the track one continuous
slippery quagmire. The hospitality of the Ardeonaig minister speedily
banished all recollection of the "sad night's sullenness."[10]

A more trying, because a longer, drive is that from Kilmun to Strachur,
by way of Loch Eck. In the leafy month of June, nothing could be finer;
but in a winter blizzard, one's appreciation of the glory of nature is
somewhat less than rapturous. I mention the Strachur meeting because it
was graced by the presence of a large contingent of local volunteers in
civilian attire. The War Office ought to know that the inclement weather
prevented these warriors appearing in their uniform.

[10] It is not often possible, in the _islands_, to get anything
but a trap or open coach. In Lochranza, on a day of dreary,
disheartening rain, I found on enquiry that there was no covered
vehicle to be had except the _hearse_.

A LECTURE IN ISLAY.

The westerly leg of Islay contains one or two places that have public
libraries sent from Paisley: Portnahaven and Port Charlotte on the sea,
and Gruinart inland and more to the north. It is a weird experience to
drive along the shore road from Bridgend on a night of pitiless rain,
and see the heavy mists broken every now and then by the far-reaching
flash of the Portnahaven lighthouse. Equally weird is it to lecture in a
school with no lamps (as happened at Port Charlotte). At eight o'clock I
could see the faces of the audience well enough, but