7-4 MEMOIR OF GEORGE WILSON. CHAP. II. 



through the dark, gloomy waters, that I felt more and more 

 convinced of the propriety of Turner introducing such vessels 

 into his pictures, for, when giving out only a small quantity of 

 smoke, they are truly highly interesting. 



" Mr. Campbell's house, situated on a point of the island of 

 Bute, opposite the mouth of the Clyde, has this great advantage, 

 that I can see three lighthouses from the window ; and I think 

 I could almost never tire of watching the Toward Point light re- 

 volving, now like a dim and distant glimmer, and in a few moments 

 like a star of the first magnitude, again to dwindle down and be 

 almost invisible. There was another reason made me love to sit 

 and watch the Cloch Lighthouse, far up the Firth : you know 

 the practice that has been adopted by two lovers far away from 

 each other, to agree to gaze at night on one beautiful star, so 

 that, as it were, the ray of love passing from the one eye might 

 ascend to the glorious heavenly body, and then, darting down 

 like a sunbeam, enter the watchful eye of the other, and thus 

 pass to the temple of soul ; so have I sat looking at the light- 

 house, knowing that for a large portion of the day it was before 

 the eyes of two dear sisters at Dunoon, who must often have 

 been gazing on it at the same time it riveted my attention ; but 

 I have ceased latterly to w^atch it, for I suppose you have Mary 

 and Jeanie home. 



" This island contains a far greater number of architec- 

 tural remains than I ever expected to see. The Castle of 

 Rothesay is a large ruin in a fine state of preservation. The 

 great central hall must have been very large, and several of the 

 donjon-keeps are still very perfect. In the churchyard are the 

 remains of a very old chapel ; I in vain made inquiries con- 

 cerning its date or history. It has been built, if I mistake not, 

 in the Gothic style, though not very pure or much enriched 

 with ornament. A very fine recumbent statue of a mailed 

 knight reposes on a tomb, his feet resting on some animal, as I 

 believe is often the case in such statues ; one old woman pointed 

 to a grave near this effigy as the burial-place of the ' Big 

 Stewart.' This is all I have been able to learn of his history. 

 In the graveyard itself there is the usual utter want of taste 

 which characterizes country burial-places. The church is a 



