THE SPIKIT OF GLENCBOE 



WHO has not heard of the Pass of Glencroe ? The hills 

 rising perpendicularly on both sides, grey to the top with 

 immense masses of rock, that look as if an infant's touch 

 would roll them from their insecure basis. It was my hap 

 to live for a summer close to this savage gorge. When 

 the weather was dull and rainy, and the clouds hung low 

 upon the mountain-tops, the frowning grandeur of the 

 scene could scarcely fail to depress the most buoyant 

 spirits ; and even when the day was fine and clear, a feel- 

 ing of awe at least was inspired. 



When I first came to the neighbourhood of Glencroe it 

 was in early summer, and, of course, the Scotch mists 

 were thick and frequent ; but, overlooking the greater 

 angling attractions of Loch Lomond and its neighbouring 

 streams, I generally took advantage of the fine days to 

 wander, fishing-rod in hand, up this lonely and favourite 

 strath, to the little moor-loch at its head. 



The " Loch an Rest," so called from being close to the 

 top of the glen, where a stone is set up with the well- 



