188 AUTUMNS IN ARGYLLSHIRE 



useful institution of a " pair." Still, the flesh is 

 weak, and these are the confessions of one who, 

 while he held a seat in the House, generally con- 

 trived to have his feet upon the heather when the 

 blissful Twelfth came round. 



Those happy Twelfths ! My memory carries me 

 back over thirty years, every autumn of which has 

 been spent in the North. There are few parts of 

 Scotland, from Sutherland to the Border, which 

 have not echoed to the report of my gun. What 

 varieties of scene, what differences of climate, 

 flit across the mind's eye at the thought of the 

 first day of the season ; tropical heat, arctic cold, 

 light breezes, and shifting clouds ; thunder and 

 lightning and torrents of rain ; the round rolling 

 hills of Ross-shire ; the Perthshire tablelands, so 

 easy to walk after the hard climb to get to 

 them ; the broken mountains of Argyle, with 

 their succession of small hills and valleys and 

 constantly recurring visions of blue sea and 

 distant islands ; the down-like Border country, 

 intersected by Esk, Teviot, and Dryfe, and rich 

 with a thousand memories of Christopher North 

 and Sir Walter. Each of these spots has a 

 charm of its own ; for Caledonia, like another 

 Queen 



" Governs men by change, and so she sways all moods." 



As the blissful date draws round, I feel at peace 

 with all mankind, and disinclined to take a 



