ON THE COAST OF AEEAN 17 



that this is the view which Burns must have 

 seen familiarly out of his Ayrshire home. One 

 cannot but wonder that a prospect, so startling 

 and lovely by turns as this is, should have left 

 little or no mark upon his poetry. But then 

 he lived before the mountain-passion had been 

 developed. From this point to the time when 

 we land at Brodick we keep our eyes on 

 the ever-nearing Island. As usual, it presents 

 a grand spectacle, being transfigured and pos- 

 sessed by the agencies of light and cloud. It 

 is a delight therefore to think that we are to 

 live for a time upon its margin. 



Wednesday, August 6. 



Wind in the North-East. Cold and rainy. 

 The sea a greyish green, flecked with a few 

 white waves, which look like gulls in the dis- 

 tance. Over the landing-slip a dozen real gulls 

 are hovering just now, as they usually are. 

 The eye is fascinated by their motion graceful, 



c 



