tful feeling that there was something
beyond. Meanwhile, the sense of quiet was never lost sight of; the
little peaceful lakes among the islands might make you forget that the
great water, Loch Lomond, was so near; and yet are more beautiful,
because you know that it is so: they have their own bays and creeks
sheltered within a shelter. When we had ascended to the top of the
island we had a view up to Ben Lomond, over the long, broad water without
spot or rock; and, looking backwards, saw the islands below us as on a
map. This view, as may be supposed, was not nearly so interesting as
those we had seen before. We hunted out all the houses on the shore,
which were very few: there was the village of Luss, the two gentlemen's
houses, our favourite cottages, and here and there a hut; but I do not
recollect any comfortable-looking farm-houses, and on the opposite shore
not a single dwelling. The whole scene was a combination of natural
wildness, loveliness, beauty, and barrenness, or rather bareness, yet not
comfortless or cold; but the whole was beautiful. We were too far off
the more distant shore to distinguish any particular spots which we might
have regretted were not better cultivated, and near Luss there was no
want of houses.

After we had left the island, having been so much taken with the beauty
of the bark hut and the little lake by which it appeared to stand, we
desired the boatman to row us through it, and we landed at the hut.
Walked upon the island for some time, and found out sheltered places for
cottages. There were several woodman's huts, which, with some scattered
fir-trees, and others in irregular knots, that made a delicious murmuring
in the wind, added greatly to the romantic effect of the scene. They
were built in the form of a cone from the ground, like savages' huts, the
door being just large enough for a man to enter with stooping. Straw
beds were raised on logs of wood, tools lying about, and a forked bough
of a tree was generally suspended from the roof in the middle to hang a
kettle upon. It was a place that might have been just visited by new
settlers. I thought of Ruth and her dreams of romantic love:

'And then he said how sweet it were,
A fisher or a hunter there,
A gardener in the shade,
Still wandering with an easy mind,
To build a household fire, and find
A home in every glade.'

We found the main lake very stormy when we had left the shelter of the
island