114 STUDIES OF NATURE 



Greenock till eight o'clock. It is a weary place ; 

 dismal and dreary beyond description. We can- 

 not bear to walk about its streets. The trees 

 are stunted, the houses are squalid, and the 

 churches ! over them we draw a veil, and pray 

 that the mind may charitably forget them. 



The rattling of the steam-winch, hauling 

 cargo on the larger boat to which we have been 

 transferred, is a terrible trial for the nerves ; 

 but even that is not so bad as the ghastly 

 grimness of Greenock and its churches, loom- 

 ing upon us through the misty autumn twilight. 



Back now along the Estuary of the Clyde as 

 night falls on the sea. At Millport the lights 

 are twinkling in the harbour. It is quite dark 

 by the time we are off Arran ; so dark that I 

 am not able to say whether the familiar moun- 

 tain outlines are really discerned by the natural 

 eye, or only, with the aid of memory, sketched 

 by the imagination. It is quite certain, however, 

 that the white house on the shore is altogether 



