solemn air of grandeur over it; and the innumerable little-rocky fhaded bays, which indent the northern side of the peninsula, opposite to Turc, seem as if they had been brought into being by, the magic spells of some enchanter of Spencer and Ariosto*.

The upper lake is a wild solitude of water and rock, inclosed by an awful circle of mountains, of even Alpine dignity, over which Macgilly, Cuddy's Reeks, stretch their craggy necks, and jut into the lake.

The strait which forms the communication between this and Mucrufs lake is a labyrinth of water, winding its way among rocks for three miles and a half, in a perplexed and intricate course, almost perpetually lost behind the projections of the rocks which border it.

Imagination cannot form a more delightful scene of romantic beauty than the peninsula of Mucrufs affords. From a lawn that rises behind the house, the lower lake is seen in all its extent. The mountain of Glenaà, in its full majesty, and rich attire of wood

Joyous he leads us to the charming seat
Of Mucrufs fair;-hr elegance and dress,
The hand of some superior pow'r confefs;
Like some selected treasure rarely seen,
Her vistas open, and her alleys green,
Her verdant terrace, Meditation's bow'r,
The yew-topp'd ruin *, and the sainted tow'r't.
From her proud bourne beho. the distant isles,

And the rude masonry of rocky piles;

Grotesque and various from the deep they rise
And catch, by turns, new forms to mock our eyes;
There, the bold cliff for ampie prospect made;
Here, for repose, the grotto and the fhade.

IBID.

One, in particular, represeh.s a horse in the attitude of drinking.

and Tomies united to it. To the south west, ruder mountains open to admit the strait that joins the lakes. To the north, the lake spreads out its glittering bosom, enriched by the woods of Rofs Island and Innisfallen, which appear as united in one mafs. The horizon is formed by the distant mountain of Sleomish, and others of the same chain; which by their height and varied outline, give spirit and dignity to the milder scene of agriculture and inclosures which terminates the lake at this extremity. But it is not to distant beauties alone that Mucrufs is indebted ; it has superior charms of its own, and contains within itself a region of enchantment. This peninsula is about a mile and a half long, and in no part wider than half a mile. Its north side opens to the lower lake, its south side to that of Mucrufs; both are well wooded, and formed into rocky bays. In the centre of the peninsula is another little sequestered lake. The rest of the space is an interchange of lawn and thicket, a happy scene of repose and tranquillity, contrasted with the magnitude and splendor of the adjoining scenery. Here we visited the ruins of the abbey of Mucrufs, founded in the year 1440 for mendicants of the order of St Francis.

In the centre of the quadrangle of the cloisters, there is a yew tree which must be coeval with the foundation. As it is protected, it will some centuries hence present a most noble and awful spectacle.

Surfeited almost with these beauties of the valleys, we ascended the yellow mountain, or Knock-buy, about two miles to the northward, and from thence

enjoyed the most magnificent view of the lower lake and its neighbourhood. There our eye, passing over a rich valley, met the lake in the centre with the top called Eagle's Nest, and the other mountains which stretch to the upper lake behind it *. On one side we saw the lofty Tomies Macgilly, Glennaá, and Cuddy's Reeks, losing themselves to the westward; to the south Turk and Mangerton; to the east Glanflesk and the Paps; altogether forming a range of more than twenty miles. The waving line of the mountains is uncommonly beautiful, while the effect of the view was continually varied and heightened by the changes on the face of the heavens. Vast volumes of clouds were seen rolling together from the Atlantic Ocean, and resting on the summits of the mountains; various masses of light and shade traversing the lakes in succefsion; while the fhrieks of the towering eagles were heard at a distance we con

* This magnificent scenery is thus described by the poet.

The hoary peak, with heaven's bright_azure crown'd,
The brow, with wreaths of ivy compafs'd round
Leans o'er the deep; the base, and shaggy side,
Of sylvan beauty clad, and forest pride;
Its form unhurt by tempests, or by years,
Still in fresh robes of majesty appears;
The pile superb, as nature careless threw,
Grandeur and order up the summit grew:
Their easy steps tend gradual to the skies,
And teach aspiring genius how to rise.
Here his dread seat the royal bird hath made,
To awe th' inferior subjects of the shade;
Secure he built it for a length of days,
Impervious but to Phoebus' piercing rays;
His young he trains to eye the solar light,
And soar beyond the fam'd Icarian flight.

ceived to be immense, as we could but just descry them through the intervals of the clouds.

High 'bove the rest the great (Mangerton) rears
His lofty head, and hides it in the clouds;
These now attracted by his tow'ring height,
Stop fhort their airy flight, and form a veil
Which dark and thick descends. Condensing still
Part slowly sails along, and, swelling, shrouds
The neighb'ring hills; the glens how dark between!-
The winds are hushed! the birds, expectant, pause!
The ox, with wistful gaze, eyes the deep gloom;
Nor voice of man is heard, nor pipe, nor horn,
But silent expectation reigns, and boding fear.
Sudden athwart the gloom the lightnings glance,
As quick reflected from the placid lake,
With lurid glare darts bright; anon, sublime
In awful majesty the thunder rolls!

Onward it rolls-and loud-and louder roars
In bursting peals succefsive, heard afar,
Re-echo'd oft by rocks and caverns deep

From all the neighb'ring hills, till circling round,
Still gaining force, again it bursts a peal

That stuns the ear. Rocks dafh'd on rocks are heard
Rattling around. The stoutest heart, appall'd,
With wild dismay, scarce dares to eye the gloom,
Deep-seamed, with frequent streaks of moving fire
Darting in rapid gleams from cloud to cloud:"
The clouds are seen in wildest tumult mix'd!
And now, a mighty flash, with fearful glare,
Wide opens half the sky; the heavy rain,
Pouring in streams resistless, rushes down,
Ploughs the red mould, and bears it to the main.
Nature convulsed, the everlasting hills
Appear to totter, and the total wreck
Of all terrestrial objects seems at hand!

Not long this uproar lasts. The clouds dispel,
The sun looks joyous forth: the pleasing vale,
Now deck'd with renovated verdure, smiles:
The flocks and herds with double relish feed:
The setting sun, with parting ray serene,
Chequers the varied scene with vivid tints
Of glowing lustre, and majestic shades:
Then sinking in the west, night slowly draws
Her mellow curtain o'er the silent scene,
And leaves the world in stillness to repose *.

Having taken shelter during the thunder storm

* Extracted from Loch Lommond, a poem; the close a little varied to adapt it to the local scene.

in a pleasing cavern, we there took a slight repast,

and returned in the evening.

Happy the man, who studying nature's laws,
Thro' known effects can trace the secret cause,
His mind possessing, in a quiet state,
Fearless of fortune, and resign'd to fate.
And happy, too, is he who decks the bow'rs
Of sylvans, and adores the rural pow'rs;
Whose mind unmov'd the bribes of courts can see,
Their glitt'ring baits, and purple slavery.
Without dismay he hears, but hears from far,
Of tumults, and descents, and distant war:
Nor with a superstitious fear is aw'd,

For what befalls at home, or what abroad.

Farewell, my dear girls, you fhall hear from me again on the beauties of summer.

To the Editor of the Bee.

SIR, Edinburgh, 9th April 1793. If you are as great an admirer of the following oriental tale as I am, you will not hesitate to give it a place in your miscellany with your first conveniency, and oblige, Sir, your old correspondent,

ASIATICUS.

The Temple of the Sun, an Orient Tale.

As Togrul, the valiant general of the emperor Temugin, pursued his march in the cool of the evening at the head of his army, through the country of Tarristan, his attention was one day struck by a pile of ruins, the magnificence of which tempted him to take a nearer view of them, while his troops halted for refreshment.

The reflections naturally suggested by such scenes, were interrupted by the sight of an aged man, sitting in a melancholy posture, with his eyes intently fixed on some