uality by
which they are distinguished, but that it is rarely found in them at
all. There are few, possessing any very marked character, in which
beauty is not either an ingredient or an accompaniment; and there are
many "beautiful exceedingly," which, lying out of the way even of
somewhat adventurous travellers, or very remote, are known, if even by
that, only by name. It does not, indeed, require much, in some
situations, to give a very touching beauty to water. A few trees, a few
knolls, a few tufted rocks, will do it, where all around and above is
stern or sterile; and how strong may be the gentle charm, if the torrent
that feeds the little loch chance to flow into it from a lucid pool
formed by a waterfall, and to flow out of it in a rivulet that enlivens
the dark heather with a vale of verdure over which a stag might
bound--and more especially if there be two or three huts in which it is
perceived there is human life! We believe we slightly touched before on
such scenes; but any little repetition will be excused for the sake of a
very picturesque passage, which we have much pleasure in quoting from
the very valuable "Guide to the Highlands and Islands of Scotland," by
the brothers Anderson. We well remember walking into the scene here so
well painted, many long years ago, and have indeed, somewhere or other,
described it. The Fall of Foyers is the most magnificent cataract, out
of all sight and hearing, in Britain. The din is quite loud enough in
ordinary weather--and it is only in ordinary weather that you can
approach the place from which you have a full view of all its grandeur.
When the Fall is in flood--to say nothing of being drenched to the
skin--you are so blinded by the sharp spray-smoke, and so deafened by
the dashing and clashing, and tumbling and rumbling thunder, that your
condition is far from enviable, as you cling, "lonely lover of nature,"
to a shelf by no means eminent for safety, above the horrid gulf. Nor in
former times was there any likelihood of your being comforted by the
accommodations of the General's Hut. In ordinary Highland
weather--meaning thereby weather neither very wet nor very dry--it is
worth walking a thousand miles for one hour to behold the Fall of
Foyers. The spacious cavity is enclosed by "complicated cliffs and
perpendicular precipices" of immense height, and though for a while it
wears to the eye a savage aspect, yet beauty fears not to dwell even
there, and the horror is s