A PICTURESQUE RETROSPECT. 3 



reverts to it, forthwith most pleasant recollections 

 crowd in upon me. I see before me, almost in 

 palpable form, the Sutherlandshlre salmon streams 

 I, the past season, fished — I see the rocky cliffs, 

 so monotonous in appearance when not diversi- 

 fied by the colours and shapes of creeping plants, 

 through which stony obstructions water has, after 

 centuries of toil, cut a way of irregular and di- 

 verse width, and tortuous direction — I see im- 

 pending mountains, in parts bristling with more 

 than one species of fir, or shining from the bright- 

 ness of the agitated birch leaves ; and in the spots 

 of the mountain flanks, where I do not see 

 these, I behold the pale violet colour of the blue- 

 bell, or the pink blossom of the far-famed heather 

 — I see the spring of the silver-sided salmon, 

 whether made in wantonness, or to clear some 

 impediment to its journey towards the spawning 

 shallows, higher up the river ; or, more exciting 

 still, I see the fierce fish, with semi-opened mouth, 

 either rush like the bull-dog, or steal like the cat, 

 after the angler's fly, as he draws it inwards to- 

 Avards him — I see the fly seized, and the fish 

 turn downwards in the water, to skulk with it, 

 so I fancy, to its subaqueous lair, and there 

 devour it in solitary greediness — I see frightful 

 disappointment caused to its gluttinous instinct : 



