Lough Ness, though not twelve miles broad, is a very remarkable diffusion
of water without islands. It fills a large hollow between two ridges of
high rocks, being supplied partly by the torrents which fall into it on
either side, and partly, as is supposed, by springs at the bottom. Its
water is remarkably clear and pleasant, and is imagined by the natives to
be medicinal. We were told, that it is in some places a hundred and
forty fathoms deep, a profundity scarcely credible, and which probably
those that relate it have never sounded. Its fish are salmon, trout, and
pike.

It was said at fort Augustus, that Lough Ness is open in the hardest
winters, though a lake not far from it is covered with ice. In
discussing these exceptions from the course of nature, the first question
is, whether the fact be justly stated. That which is strange is
delightful, and a pleasing error is not willingly detected. Accuracy of
narration is not very common, and there are few so rigidly philosophical,
as not to represent as perpetual, what is only frequent, or as constant,
what is really casual. If it be true that Lough Ness never freezes, it
is either sheltered by its high banks from the cold blasts, and exposed
only to those winds which have more power to agitate than congeal; or it
is kept in perpetual motion by the rush of streams from the rocks that
inclose it. Its profundity though it should be such as is represented
can have little part in this exemption; for though deep wells are not
frozen, because their water is secluded from the external air, yet where
a wide surface is exposed to the full influence of a freezing atmosphere,
I know not why the depth should keep it open. Natural philosophy is now
one of the favourite studies of the Scottish nation, and Lough Ness well
deserves to be diligently examined.

The road on which we travelled, and which was itself a source of