THE GROUNDS ABOUT CROMARTY. 313 



the rock and through the runnel is marked by a steep 

 belt of ferruginous matter, which might be converted 

 into a pigment, resembling burnt-sienna/ 



' Ferry Dale, Wednesday, half-past eleven. 



' How delightful the grounds about Cromarty look 

 from this side the bay. Sir George Mackenzie of Coul 

 has remarked, and I dare say he is quite in the right, 

 that they are unequalled in at least all Ross-shire, but that 

 the taste displayed in laying them out belongs to the 

 obsolete school of a century ago. The hill-side, for 

 instance, instead of being divided into square parks, 

 should have been tufted with clumps of coppice, the 

 edge of the wood ought to have been broken by the 

 trees advancing in some places and retiring in others, 

 and the enclosures should have run in waving rather 

 than in straight lines. How innumerable, my Lydia, are 

 the associations connected with the scene before me. 

 Yonder is the bury ing- ground of my father, and yonder 

 the house of my mother. There is hardly a spot my eye 

 can rest on that is not wedded to the past by some in- 

 teresting tradition ; and then, how enriched is the whole 

 scene by my recollections of you ! Yonder is the beechen 

 tree, and yonder the Lover's Leap, and yonder the little 

 rocky recess in which I met with you last winter with so 

 little hope of ever meeting with you again. Yonder, too, is 

 the old chapel of St Regulus, yonder the Ladies' Walk, 

 and yonder the house of Mrs F . What little insect- 

 looking things we are ! Quick and sharp as my sight 

 is, were you in the opening at the foot of the garden, I 

 would see you merely as a little speck. 



' " Butler " I must return you unread ; as between 

 writing, working, and thinking of you, I have no time to 

 devote to him. But here comes the ferry-boat/ 



