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road was so narrow that two vehicles could scarcely pass each other, 

 with a steep slope above and below, the only protection against an 

 overthrow being the natural birch-wood which skirted the way. The 

 alder too was there. Strathdown is a narrow, wild, romantic valley, 

 through which runs the beautifully clear Avon, and about the middle 

 of which, on a bank of the river, some hundred feet above its bed, is 

 situated the manse of Kirkmichael, from which I now write. The 

 view from this spot is delightful, comprehending the summits of Cairn- 

 gorm and Benavon — the climate not inferior to that of any part of my 

 route above described. The ceaseless sough of the Avon here also 

 greets my ear, and reminds me of my late residence on the banks of 

 the Dee, which, in the colour and clearness of its waters it strongly 

 resembles. In the dining room immediately below me is a flower-pot 

 containing a few plants of mignonette in full flower. The seed was 

 sown last spring — the young plants appeared in autumn — and the 

 sweet-scented favourite of ladies and of bees has been in flower all 

 the winter. Good night. 



April 19. — I drove to-day to Tomintoul, six miles farther up the 

 Avon than Kirkmichael, and within about twenty miles both of Bal- 

 later and Braemar, but could see nothing to neutralize the same mo- 

 notonous negation of Botany I have already experienced, except a 

 flower or two of Tussilago Farfara, which has been in blossom for the 

 last month. Such, however, is the mildness of the season, that I have 

 observed since yesterday a marked difference in the buds of the trees, 

 now fast opening into green leaves. 



April 20. — I am again at Dalnashauch. In my downward progress 

 hitherward the only additional harbinger of summer that I observed 

 was the bog-myrtle ; all other things are in statu quo. I am about 

 to proceed down the Spey to Rothes, to leave for the present — per- 

 haps for ever — the interesting scenes through which I have passed, 

 and which, though at all times worth seeing, are at this moment but 

 opening into that state of mingled beauty, and sweetness, and gran- 

 deur, in which the devotee of phytological science finds his most ap- 

 propriate and most delightful walk. 



Forres. — April 21. The drive down the Spey from Inveravon to 

 Craigellachie is partly through a bleak moorland tract, lying at the 

 foot of Belrinnes, and partly through one lower and more cultivated, 

 in which lie the church, manse and village of Aberlour, and in which, 

 near the river-side, I saw, as evidences of the warmer temperature, 

 patches of Anemone nemorosa on one side of the road, and low green 

 meadows on the other. The iron bridge at Craigellachie is a fine 



