traced to Fillan's spring that draught of inspiration which conceived
such a splendid poem as the "Lady of the Lake"; for it is here that the
scenery of Upper Strathearn reaches its climax of beauty and grandeur.

Take St. Fillan's Hill as the point of vantage, and the view is most
entrancing. Looking towards Comrie and Crieff, we have at our feet the
richest and most beautifully wooded part of Strathearn--the valley
interspersed in the most picturesque fashion, with knolls richly clad
with larch, oak, or hazel; while here and there the gleam of the River
Earn betrays her course, where she has emerged from sombre wood, or
deep and rocky gorge. In spring-time the eye is delighted and
refreshed with the varieties of green--from the deep and sombre shade
of the Scotch pine and the almost yellow and brown of the young oak to
the exquisite freshness and tender beauty of the larch. In autumn it
is one blaze of colour. At our feet an avenue of beeches glowing red;
everywhere masses of oak of russet brown--the rich and varied tints of
the bracken contributing their share to the similitude of a glorious
sunset; and the whole picture is rendered complete to the eye by being
set in that massive rocky framework, known as the Aberuchill range,
whose stern and rugged sides add to the feeling of the picturesque and
beautiful the sense of the sublime.

Looking westward, we have within our immediate view a contrast in the
form of a fine piece of pastoral scenery--green fields with cattle or
sheep grazing, ploughed land and cornfield, farm-steading, and all that
suggests the peaceful but laborious life of the hardy sons of toil.

Almost at our feet, in striking solitude, we discern the chapel and
burying-ground of Dundurn. The peacefulness of the place, and the
solemn grandeur of the mountains which soar above, and seem as if
placed there to safeguard the seclusion, are all in harmony.

From the point of view already taken, that noble Ben, called Biron,
forces itself upon our admiration--a mountain with what we might call
character--not of any common order--not beaten into any shape by the
ruthless elements, but with many determined points, which have survived
the war with winds and frosts and rains--an old veteran, who, in spite
of the scars where the shadows rest, has a look of triumph about him,
especially when his peaks at evening catch the setting rays of the sun,
or peer through a surrounding mist.

Although we are not at