called, of the
power of shifting at pleasure the scenes in which she seeks
amusement--will these outweigh in her estimation the prospect of domestic
happiness and the interchange of unabating affection? I say nothing of
her father: his good and evil qualities are so strangely mingled that the
former are neutralised by the latter; and that which she must regret as a
daughter is so much blended with what she would gladly escape from, that
I place the separation of the father and child as a circumstance which
weighs little in her remarkable case. Meantime I keep up my spirits as I
may. I have incurred too many hardships and difficulties to be
presumptuous or confident in success, and I have been too often and too
wonderfully extricated from them to be despondent.

'I wish you saw this country. I think the scenery would delight you. At
least it often brings to my recollection your glowing descriptions of
your native country. To me it has in a great measure the charm of
novelty. Of the Scottish hills, though born among them, as I have always
been assured, I have but an indistinct recollection. Indeed, my memory
rather dwells upon the blank which my youthful mind experienced in gazing
on the levels of the isle of Zealand, than on anything which preceded
that feeling; but I am confident, from that sensation as well as from the
recollections which preceded it, that hills and rocks have been familiar
to me at an early period, and that, though now only remembered by
contrast, and by the blank which I felt while gazing around for them in
vain, they must have made an indelible impression on my infant
imagination. I remember, when we first mounted that celebrated pass in
the Mysore country, while most of the others felt only awe and
astonishment at the height and grandeur of the scenery, I rather shared
your feelings and those of Cameron, whose admiration of such wild rocks
was blended with familiar love, derived from early association. Despite
my Dutch education, a blue hill to me is as a friend, and a roaring
torrent like the sound of a domestic song that hath soothed my infancy. I
never felt the impulse so strongly as in this land of lakes and
mountains, and nothing grieves me so much as that duty prevents your
being with me in my numerous excursions among recesses. Some drawings I
have attempted, but I succeed vilely. Dudley, on the contrary, draws
delightfully, with that rapid touch which seems like magic; while I
labour and b