NOVEMBER 217 



Cressingham and Surrey, and leaving the famous 

 Abbey Craig on the right, the road crosses the level 

 carse as far as the Bridge of Allan the Thermae of 

 Stirling and Glasgow where it climbs the ridge divid- 

 ing Strathallan from the Carse of Menteith. As soon 

 as you are clear of the woods of Keir, a splendid 

 prospect opens before you, and you should rest a while 

 among a circle of huge stones, which mark the grave 

 of some doughty doer of yore, on the right side of the 

 way. There are certain standard landscapes which views 

 of lesser note often bring to mind. This one recalls 

 the scene from a little hill just outside Turin, much 

 frequented by tourists. Instead of Mont Rosa, there is 

 the shapely dome of Benledi ; Stuc-ma-chrome takes 

 the place of II Gran Paradiso, which, as the Torinian 

 vendor of bad field-glasses never wearies of testifying, 

 vous empfche de voir le grand Mont Blanc ; and far to 

 the west, in place of the many crested Ligurian range, 

 you have the Argyllshire hills clustering behind the 

 cloven crest of Ben Lomond. But, instead of the level 

 Lombard champaign, rich in vines, wheat and maize, 

 the middle distance and foreground are made up of 

 shining oat-stubbles and vivid turnips, among belts and 

 clumps of wood, piebald with russet beech and rifle- 

 green firs. In truth, on this brilliant autumn morning, 

 with the Highland hills snow-clad half-way down their 

 sides, and the sky barred with no more than a few 

 fleecy cloudlets, no Scotsman need shrink from a com- 

 parison between the two lands. 

 Two great buildings catch the eye one, a couple of 



