away before me into that blue place among the mountains-I must give you an outline as well as I can

Not[a] B[ene]-the Water was a fine Blue silvered and the Mountains a dark purple, the Sun setting aslant behind them-meantime the head of ben Lomond was covered with a rich Pink Cloud-We did not ascend Ben Lomond-the price being very high and a half a day of rest being quite acceptable. We were up at 4 this morning and have walked to breakfast 15 Miles through two Tremendous Glens 1-at the end of the first there is a place called rest and be thankful which we took for an Inn-it was nothing but a Stone and so we were cheated into 5 more Miles to Breakfast-I have just been bathing in Loch Fyne a salt water Lake opposite the Windows, -quite pat and fresh but for the cursed Gad flies-damn 'em they have been at me ever since I left the swan and two necks.2

Last Evening we came round the End of Loch Fyne to Inverary-the Duke of Argyle's Castle is very modern magnificent and more so from the place it is in-the woods seem old enough to remember two or three changes in the Crags about them-the Lake was beautiful and there was a Band at a distance by the Castle. I

1 See foot-note, page 303 of Volume II.

2 Here follows the ballad of The Gadfly. See Volume II, pages 303-6.

must say I enjoyed two or three common tunes-but nothing could stifle the horrors of a solo on the Bagpipe-I thought the Beast would never have done. Yet was I doomed to hear another.-On entering Inverary we saw a Play Bill. Brown was knocked up from new shoes so I went to the Barn alone where I saw the Stranger accompanied by a Bag-pipe. There they went on about interesting creaters and human nater till the Curtain fell and then came the Bag-pipe. When Mrs. Haller fainted down went the Curtain and out came the Bag-pipe-at the heartrending, shoemending reconciliation the Piper blew amain. I never read or saw this play before; not the Bag-pipe nor the wretched players themselves were little in comparison with it-thank heaven it has been scoffed at lately almost to a fashion.1

I think we are the luckiest fellows in Christendom— Brown could not proceed this morning on account of his feet and lo there is thunder and rain.

July 20th [1818]. For these two days past we have been so badly accommodated more particularly in coarse food that I have not been at all in cue to write. Last night poor Brown with his feet blistered and scarcely able to walk, after a trudge of 20 Miles down the side of Loch Awe had no supper but Eggs and Oat Cake— we have lost the sight of white bread entirely-Now we had eaten nothing but Eggs all day-about 10 a piece and they had become sickening-To-day we have fared rather better-but no oat Cake wanting-we had a small Chicken and even a good bottle of Port but all together the fare is too coarse-I feel it a little.-Another week will break us in. I forgot to tell you that when we came

1

Here follows the sonnet On hearing the Bag-pipe and seeing "The Stranger" played at Inverary. See Volume II, pages 307-8.

through Glenside it was early in the morning and we were pleased with the noise of Shepherds, Sheep and dogs in the misty heights close above us-we saw none of them for some time, till two came in sight creeping among the Craggs like Emmets, yet their voices came quite plainly to us-The approach, to Loch Awe was very solemn towards nightfall-the first glance was a streak of water deep in the Bases of large black Mountains. We had come along a complete mountain road, where if one listened there was not a sound but that of Mountain Streams. We walked 20 Miles by the side of Loch Awe-every ten steps creating a new and beautiful picture sometimes through little wood-there are two islands on the Lake each with a beautiful ruin-one of them rich in ivy.-We are detained this morning by the rain. I will tell you exactly where we are. We are between Loch Craignish and the sea just opposite Long Island. Yesterday our walk was of this description—the near Hills were not very lofty but many of them steep, beautifully wooded-the distant Mountains in the Hebrides very grand, the Saltwater Lakes coming up between Crags and Islands full tide and scarcely ruffled-sometimes appearing as one large Lake, sometimes as three distinct ones in different directions. At one point we saw afar off a rocky opening into the main sea.—We have also seen an Eagle or two. They move about without the least motion of Wings when in an indolent fit.—I am for the first time in a country where a foreign Language is spoken-they gabble away Gælic at a vast rate-numbers of them speak English. There are not many Kilts in Argylshire at Fort William they say a Man is not admitted into Society without one-the Ladies there have a horror at the indecency of Breeches. I cannot give you a better idea of Highland Life than by describing

some.

***

the place we are in. The Inn or public is by far the best house in the immediate neighbourhood. It has a white front with tolerable windows-the table I am writing on su[r]prises me as being a nice flapped Mahogany one; at the same time the place has no nor any thing like it. You may if you peep see through the floor chinks into the ground rooms. The old Grandmother of the house seems intelligent though not over clean. N.B. No snuff being to be had in the village she made us The Guid Man is a rough looking hardy stout Man who I think does not speak so much English as the Guid wife who is very obliging and sensible and moreover though stockingless has a pair of old Shoes-Last night some Whisky Men sat up clattering Gælic till I am sure one o'clock to our great annoyance. There is a Gælic testament on the Drawers in the next room. White and blue China ware has crept all about here— Yesterday there passed a Donkey laden with tin-pots— opposite the Window there are hills in a Mist-a few Ash trees and a mountain stream at a little distance.They possess a few head of Cattle.-If you had gone round to the back of the House just now-you would have seen more hills in a Mist-some dozen wretched black Cottages scented of peat smoke which finds its way by the door or a hole in the roof—a girl here and there barefoot. There was one little thing driving Cows down a slope like a mad thing. There was another standing at the cowhouse door rather pretty fac'd all up to the ankles in dirt. We have walk'd 15 Miles in a soaking rain to Oban opposite the Isle of Mull which is so near Staffa― we had thought to pass to it-but the expense is 7 Guineas and those rather extorted.-Staffa you see is a fashionable place and therefore every one concerned with it either in this town or the Island are what you call up.

'Tis like paying sixpence for an apple at the playhousethis irritated me and Brown was not best pleased-we have therefore resolved to set northward for Fort William to morrow morning. I fed upon a bit of white Bread today like a Sparrow-it was very fine-I cannot manage the cursed Oat Cake. Remember me to all and let me hear a good account of you at Inverness. I am sorry Georgy had not those lines. Good bye.

The only day I have had a chance of seeing you when you were last in London, I took every advantage of some devil led you out of the way. Now I have

1 Lord Houghton remarks justly that a part of this letter "illustrates, with singular felicity, the peculiar action of a high imagination on the ordinary relations of the sexes. The youthful companions of Keats," continues his Lordship, "who saw how gentle and courteous was his manner to women, and who held the common belief that every Poet was essentially sentimental, could not comprehend his frequent avoidance of female society, and the apparent absence of any engrossing passion; the pardonable conceit of conscious genius suggested itself to them as the probable cause of this defective sympathy, and, when he manifested an occasional interest in any one person, it was attributed rather to satisfied vanity than to awakened love. But the careful study of the poetical character at once disproves these superficial interpretations, and the simple statement of his own feelings by such a man as Keats is a valuable addition to our knowledge of the most delicate and wonderful of the