PROFESSOR WILSON AND DR. JOHNSON. 165 amplitude, as masses and sprinklings of clouds, and single clouds, show the amplitude of the cerulean vault. They are for ever arranging themselves into new forms, every one more and more beautiful; at least so they seemed to be, perpetually occurring, yet always unexpected, and there is a pleasure even in such a series of slight surprises that enhances the delight of admiration. And alongside, or behind us, all the while, are the sylvan mountains, laden with beauty; and, ever and anon, glens widen down upon us from chasms, or forest-glades lead our hearts away into the inner gloom; and there, in a field that looks not as if it had been cleared by his own hands, but left clear by nature, a woodman's hut.' 6 As a contrast to Professor Wilson's panegyrics, listen to Dr. Johnson's grumble, and see how the same scenery can be variously represented according to the mood and tastes of the writer: From Glencroe,' says the doctor, we passed through a pleasant country to the banks of Loch Lomond, and were received at the house of Sir James Colquhoun, who is owner of almost all the thirty islands of the Loch, which we went in a boat next morning to survey. The heaviness of the rain shortened our voyage, but we landed on one island planted with yew and stocked with deer; and on another containing not perhaps more than half an acre, remarkable for the ruins of an old castle, on which the osprey builds her annual nest. Had Loch Lomond been in a happier climate, it would have been the boast of wealth and vanity to own one of the little spots which it encloses, and to have employed upon it all the arts of embellishment. But as it is, the islets which court the gazer at a distance disgust him at his approach, when he finds, instead of soft lawns and shady thickets, nothing more than uncultivated ruggedness.' We must note, however, that the visit was made during heavy rain, and late in the season (October 27, 1773), and when Dr. Johnson was in the 65th year of his age. Some excuse is therefore to be made for his inappreciation of the scenery. But Boswell, on the contrary, says that his illustrious friend was much pleased with the scene.' Six years after, when they were dining in London at Allen Ramsay's, Lord Graham, who was one of the party, while he praised the beauty of Loch Lomond, on the banks of which was his family seat, complained of the climate, and said he could not bear it. To which Dr. Johnson said, 'Nay, my Lord, don't talk so; you may bear it well enough. Your ancestors have borne it more years than I can tell.' This was a handsome compliment to the antiquity of the house of Montrose. His Lordship (says Boswell) told me afterwards that he had only affected to complain of the climate; lest, if he had spoken as favourably of his country as he had really thought, Dr. Johnson might have attacked it.' When the doctor's foibles were thus truckled to by those who should have known better, we ought not to be much surprised if the doctor, in an unguarded moment, should stumble into the trap prepared for him. Johnson's visit to Loch Lomond led to his assisting in the Latin inscription on the monument erected to Smollett, on the banks of the Leven, by his kinsman, of whom it may be truly said that he gave to the novelist a stone instead of bread, for he never assisted him while living, and he allowed his widow to subsist on the charity of the public. Dr. Smollett's description of Loch Lomond is very different from that of Dr. Johnson. It will be found in Humphrey Clinker,' where he says that he prefers his country loch to the 6 LOCH LOMOND DESCRIBED BY SMOLLETT. 167 Lago di Gardi, Albano, De Vico, Bolsena, and Geneva,' a preference, he adds, that is certainly owing to the verdant islands that seem to float upon its surface, affording the most enchanting visions of repose to the excursive view. Nor are the banks destitute of beauties which even partake of the sublime. On this side they display a sweet variety of woodland, corn fields, and pasture, with several agreeable villas emerging, as it were, out of the lake, till, at some distance, the prospect terminates in huge mountains, covered with heath, which being in bloom, affords a very rich covering of purple. Everything is romantic beyond imagination.' The woodland scenery must be tame to what it once was, for the western banks of Loch Lomond were formerly covered with large forests; and Professor Cosmo Innes, in his Sketches of Early Scotch History,' shows that Maurice, Lord of Luss, sold the timber from there wherewith to build the steeple and thesaury of the church' of Glasgow, in 1277. A CHAPTER XVI. BEN LOMOND. Village of Luss-The Birch; useful and ornamental- S seen from the steamer, the village of Luss is one of the prettiest collections of houses on the borders of the Loch. The shores of the lake, up to this spot, have been comparatively low and meadow-like; but immediately northward of Luss the rocks here and there rise precipitously from the water, and on all sides soar upwards into mountains, which press around the now narrowed surface of the Loch, and contract it to a width varying from three-quarters of a mile to a mile and a half. This brings the varied scenery of either bank within near view, and enables those on board the steamer to note those lesser objects of the landscape which distance would have hidden from our eyes on the sea-like surface of the southern portion of the Loch. Now, we not only clearly discern all the houses, but even the people also-to wit, the fisherman who is flogging the Luss water almost as lustily as an irate woman in a mob-cap, which shines lustrous in the sun, who is belabouring a small boy with a birch. That graceful tree grows as ornamentally and usefully near to the cottagers' huts by Loch Lomond as it did by the house of Shenstone's schoolmistress. Three miles farther on, and as our steamer approaches Inveruglas Ferry, the Loch would appear to become still more contracted, and yet more beautiful. Tiny cataracts are hurled down the rocky ramparts of the Loch, and lose themselves amid the trees with a most musical murmur, a veritable performance by dame Nature of La Pluie de Perles. At Inveruglas we set down some of our passengers; for from hence is the usual spot (by means of the ferry to the Rowardennan Hotel on the opposite bank of the Loch) where tourists start for Ben Lomond; and to-day is a most propitious day for the ascent, the view being clear in all directions. But the ascent from Rowardennan to the summit of Ben Lomond is a toilsome march of six miles, and will therefore consume several hours of the day; and at present I am bound for Tarbet, so I defer my ascent to another day, which, alas, never came; for on the morrow (which happened to be the only day at my command) the pelting storms and shrouding mists had well nigh blotted out Ben Lomond from base to summit, and the view of him, as seen from the Tarbet Hotel, was simply nil. I therefore had to take to heart that cosmopolitan carpe-diem proverb of making hay while the sun shines,' of which the German version says, 'one to-day is worth ten tomorrows.' 6 As seen from the various points of the Loch, however, and especially from Tarbet (weather permitting), Ben Lomond is a truly magnificent object in the landscape |