NORTH.
I know few dens more beautiful than Cladich-Cleugh!
BULLER.
Pardon me, sir, if I do not attempt that name.
NORTH.
How mellifluous!—Cladich-Cleugh!
BULLER.
Great is the power of gutturals.
NORTH.
It is not inaccessible. But you must skirt it till you reach the meadow where the cattle are beginning to browse. And then threading your way through a coppice, where you are almost sure to see a roe, you come down upon a series of little pools, in such weather as this so clear that you can count the trouts; and then the verdurous walls begin to rise on either side and right before you; and you begin to feel that the beauty is becoming magnificence, for the pools are now black, and the stems are old, and the cliffs intercept the sky, and there are caves, and that waterfall has dominion in the gloom, and there is sublimity in the sounding solitude.