THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDIE. IN the immediate neighbourhood of the village of Aberfeldie, in Perthshire, is a deep wooded glen, following the course of a mountain streamlet, which wantons in Nature's wildest forms, among chasms and excavated rocks. The beauty of the scenery is heightened by the rich and luxuriant foliage of the lofty fir and spreading ash, intermixed with the taper hazel and the drooping birch; which, moving with the gentle gales, breathe responsive murmurs to the sound of innumerable cascades, that rush headlong down, and are collected into two falls of considerable magnitude. The approach to the falls is through a mazy and intricate path, and cannot safely be attempted by strangers without a guide. The frequent windings of the way produce an ever-changing variety of grand and picturesque effect. In many parts the rocks elevate their stupendous bulk in gloomy majesty, emitting from their perforated sides numerous rills, that stray among the entangled roots of trees and shrubs, till they join the rapid current, that winds its foaming course in the rude channel below. The dashing sound of the falls is heard at a distance through the wood, and the mind anticipates with awe the approaching scene. Those unaccustomed to Nature in her wildest dress, are not without reason, surprised to find the poet Burns making choice of this place for amorous assignations. But custom dissipates every apprehension of danger, and a frequent visiter can enter into the very spirit of his language, when addressing his "bonnie lassie," he says, Let Fortune's gifts at random flee, They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me; Arriving at the lower fall, a grand display of water meets the eye, and, looking downward, the rushing of the stream, nearly forty feet below, aided by the savage scenery around, and the united roarings of both the falls, creates a trepidation not easily subdued. The alarm, thus excited, is increased on the way to the upper fall: the ascent is, in many places, steep and slippery; the din of waters becomes more powerful, and anxiety is succeeded by consternation, when, on a sudden turn of the path, the cataract bursts at once upon the sight. The dreadful force of the waters is here seen, and the thundering noise occasioned by their fall precludes the interchange of speech. Bold, jutting rocks present themselves immediately. in front, and are completely excavated into an immense cauldron below, where the waters fall, and rise again in continual mist to a considerable height. This interesting scene is adorned with noble trees, and others of smaller growth, that spread their branches to the nutricious and incessant moisture; the ground likewise is embossed with flowers, which imbibe the falling dew. But Nature spreads her sweets in vain, while amazement retains full possession of the faculties, and admiration is lost in wonder and astonishment. THE VILLAGE OF KENMORE, NEAR TAYMOUTH, THE RESIDENCE OF THE EARL OF BRAIDALBIN, Perthshire. THE situation of the small, but increasing village of Kenmore, is the most inchanting that can well be conceived; simple in itself, it stands surrounded by sublime and imposing scenery. From the eminences of Taymouth, the country around is seen in all its grandeur; and it is no wonder that Burns should employ his muse in a tribute of praise, on beholding a prospect so calculated to fix his attention, and to call forth the powers of his mind. Immediately behind Kenmore, when seen from Taymouth, is Loch Tay, whose banks are covered with wood, interspersed with corn-fields, and variegated with the blushing blossoms of the heath, umbrageous plantations, and matted underwood. At intervals may be seen, though indistinctly, the two roads leading to Killin, winding along the borders of the lake. On the right hand, a bold |