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Of the industrious husbandman diffused

dom of making such a personage the chief Through a parch’d meadow field in time of character in a Philosophical Poem. drought.'

He is described as endowed by nature with Our natural disposition, too, is as amiable as that of the “ Vagrant Merchant.”

a great intellect, a noble imagination, a pro

found soul, and a tender heart. It will not be “And surely never did there live on earth

said that nature keeps these her noblest gifts A man of kindlier nature. The rough sports And teasing ways of children vex'd not him :

for human beings born in this or that condition Indulgent listener was he to the tongue

life: she gives them to her favourites—for Of garrulous age; nor did the sick man's tale, To his fraternal sympathy address'd,

so, in the highest sense, they are to whom Obtain reluctant hearing.”

such gifts befall; and not unfrequently, in an Who can read the following lines, and not

obscure place, of one of the FORTUNATI think of Christopher North?

“The fulgent head

Star-bright appears." “ Birds and beasts, And the mute fish that glances in the stream,

Wordsworth appropriately places the birth of And harmless reptile coiling in the sun,

such a being in an humble dwelling in the And gorgeous insect hovering in the air,

Highlands of Scotland.
The fowl domestic, and the household dog-
In his capacious mind he loved them all."

Among the hills of Athol he was born;

Where on a small hereditary farm, True, that our love of

An unproductive slip of barren ground,

His parents, with their numerous offspring, dwelt: “The mute fish that glances in the stream,"

A virtuous household, though exceeding poor.” is not incompatible with the practice of the His childhood was nurtured at home in Chris“angler's silent trade,” or with the pleasure of tian love and truth and acquired other know“filling our pannier." The Pedlar, too, we have ledge at a winter school; for in summer he reason to know, was like his poet and our

“tended cattle on the hill" selves, in that art a craftsman, and for love

“ That stood beat the molecatcher at busking a batch of

Sole building on a mountain's dreary edge.” May-flies. We question whether Lascelles And the influence of such education and occuhimself were his master at a green dragon. pation among such natural objects, Words« The harmless reptile coiling in the sun” we worth expounds in some as fine poetry as ever are not so sure about, having once been bit by issued from the cells of philosophic thought. an adder, whom in our simplicity we mistook for

“So the foundations of his mind were laid.a slow-worm-the very day, by the by, on The boy had small need of books which we were poisoned by a dish of toad

“For many a tale stools, by our own hand gathered for mush- Traditionary, round the mountains hung,

And many a legend, peopling the dark woods, rooms. But we have long given over chasing Nourish'd Imagination in her growth, butterflies, and feel, as the Pedlar did, that they And gave the mind that apprehensive power

By which she is made quick to recognise are beautiful creatures, and that 'tis a sin be

The moral properties and scope of things." tween finger and thumb to compress their mealy wings. The household dog we do in- But in the Manse there were books-and he

read deed dearly love, though when old Surly looks

“Whate'er the minister's old shelf supplied, suspicious we prudently keep out of the reach

The life and death of martyrs, who sustain'd, of his chain. As for “the domestic fowl," we With will inflexible, those fearful pangs, breed scores every spring, solely for the delight

Triumphantly display'd in records left

Of persecution and the Covenant." of seeing them at their walks,

Can you not believe that by the time he was Among the rural villages and farms ;"

as old as you were when you used to ride to and though game to the back-bone, they are the races on a pony, by the side of your sire allowed to wear the spurs nature gave them the Squire, this boy was your equal in knowto crow unclipped, challenging but the echoes; (ledge, though you had a private tutor all to nor is the sward, like the sod, ever reddened yourself, and were then a promising lad, as with their heroic blood, for hateful to our ears indeed you are now after the lapse of a quarthe war-song,

ter of a century ? True, as yet he “had small 6 Welcome to your gory bed,

Latin and no Greek;" but the elements of Or to victory!"

these languages may be learned-trust us'Tis our way, you know, to pass from gay by slow degrees—by the mind rejoicing in the to grave matter, and often from a jocular to a consciousness of its growing faculties-during serious view of the same subject-it being leisure hours from other studies--as they were natural to us—and having become habitual by the Athol adolescent. A Scholar-in your too, from our writing occasionally in Black-sense of the word he might not be called, wood's Magazine. All the world knows our even when he had reached his seventeenth admiration of Wordsworth, and admits that year, though probably he would have puzzled we have done almost as much as Jeffrey or you in Livy and Virgil; nor of English poetry Taylor to make his poetry popular among the had he read much-the less the better for such “educated circles.” But we are not a nation a mind-at that age, and in that conditionof idolaters, and worship neither graven image for nor man that is born of a woman.

“ Accumulated feelings press'a his heart seem to have treated the Pedlar with insuffi- With still increasing weight; he was o'erpower'd

By nature, by the turbulence subdued cient respect in that playful parallel between

Of his own mind, by mystery and hope, him and ourselves; but there you are wrong And the first virgin passion of a soul again, for we desire thereby to do him honour. Communing with the glorious Universe." We wish pow to say a few words on the wis- But he had read Poetry-ay, the same Poetry

We may

"Is summon'd to select the course

that Wordsworth's self read at the same age artificial society; and in ten thousand cases, and

where the heart of such society was happily “ Among the hills

sound at the core, notwithstanding the rotten He gazed upon that mighty Orb of Sun,

kitchen-stuff with which it was incrusted, the The divine Milton."

shocks have killed the prejudices; and men Thus endowed, and thus instructed,

and women, encouraged to consult their own “By Nature, that did never yet betray

breasts, have heard responses there to the The heart that loved her,

truths uttered in music by the high-souled the youth was “greater than he knew;" yet Bard, assuring them of an existence there of that there was something great in, as well as capacities of pure delight, of which they had about him, he felt

had either but a faint suspicion, or, because “Thus daily thirsting in that lonesome life,” c of the world's dread laugh,” feared to in for some diviner communication than had yet dulge, and nearly let die. been vouchsafed to him by the Giver and In- Mr. Wordsworth quotes from Heron's Scotspirer of his restless Being.

land an interesting passage, illustrative of the "In dreams, in study, and in ardent thought,

life led in our country at that time by that Thus was he rear’d; much wanting to assist class of persons from whom he has chosen The growth of intellect, yet gaining more,

one-not, mind you, imaginary, though for And every moral feeling of his soul

purposes of imagination-adding that “his Strengthen’d and braced, by breathing in content

own personal knowledge emboldened him to The keen, the wholesome air of poverty, And drinking from the well of homely life.”

draw the portrait.” In that passage Heron

says, “As they wander, each alone, through But he is in his eighteenth year, and

thinly inhabited districts, they form habits of

reflection and of sublime contemplation," and Of humble industry that promised best To yield him no unworthy naintenance."

that, with all their qualifications, no wonder

they should contribute much to polish the For a season he taught a village school, which roughness and soften the rusticity of our peamany a fine, high, and noble spirit has done santry. “In North America,” he says, “travel and is doing; but he was impatient of the hills ling merchants from the settlements have done he loved, and

and continue to do much more towards civiliz “That stern yet kindly spirit, who constrains

ing the Indian natives than all the missiona The Savoyard to quit his native rocks, The free-born Swiss to leave his narrow vales,

ries, Papist or Protestant, who have ever been (Spirit attach'd to regions mountainous

sent among them;" and, speaking again of Like their own steadfast clouds.) did now impel His restless mind to look abroad with hope.

Scotland, he says, “it is not more than twenty

or thirty years, since a young man going from It had become his duty to choose a profession any part of Scotland to England for the a tradema calling. He was not

He was not a gentle- purpose to carry the pack, was considered as man, mind ye, and had probably never so much going to lead the life, and acquire the fortune as heard a rumour of the existence of a silver of a gentleman. When, after twenty years’ fork: he had been born with a wooden spoon absence in that honourable line of employin his mouth-and had lived, partly from choice ment, he returned with his acquisitions to his and partly from necessity, on a vegetable diet. native country, he was regarded as a gentleHe had not ten pounds in the world he could man to all intents and purposes.” We have call his own; but he could borrow fifty, for his ourselves known gentlemen who had carried father's son was to be trusted to that amount the pack-one of them a man of great talents by any family that chanced to have it among and acquirements-who lived in his old age in the Athol hills--therefore he resolved on “a the highest circles of society. Nobody troubled hard service," which

their head about his birth and parentage-for “ Gain'd merited respect in simpler times;

he was then very rich ; but you could not sit ten When squire, and priest, and they who round them minutes in his company without feeling that In rustic sequestration, all dependent

he was “one of God Almighty's gentlemen," Upon the PEDLAR'S toil, supplied their wants, belonging to the “ aristocracy of Nature.” Or pleased their fancies with the ware he brought.

You have heard, we hope, of Alexander Would Alfred have ceased to be Alfred had Wilson, the illustrious Ornithologist, second he lived twenty years in the hut where he not even to Audubon-and sometimes absurdspoiled the bannocks? Would Gustavus have ly called the Great American Ornithologist, ceased to be Gustavus had he been doomed to because with pen and pencil he painted in dree an ignoble life in the obscurest nook in colours that will never die—the Birds of the Dalecarlia ? Were princes and peers in our New World. He was a weaver—a Paisley day degraded by working, in their expatria- weaver-a useful trade, and a pleasant place tion, with head or hand for bread? Are the where these now dim eyes of ours first saw Polish patriots degraded by working at eighteen the light. And Sandy was a pedlar. Hear his pence a day, without victuals, on embankments words in an autobiography unknown to the of railroads?

“At the risk of giving a shock Bard :—“ I have this day, I believe, measured to the prejudices of artificial society, I have the height of an hundred stairs, and explorer ever been ready to pay homage to the aristo- the recesses of twice that number of nisera. cracy of nature, under a conviction that vigor- ble habitations; and what have I gained by ous human-heartedness is the constituent prin- it?-only two shillings of worldly pelf! but an ciple of true taste.” These are Wordsworth's invaluable treasure of observation. own words, and deserve letters of gold. He elegant dome, wrapt up in glittering silks, and has given many a shock to the prejudices of stretched on the downy sofa, recline the fair


in this The Minstrel: wandering on from Hall to Hall,

daughters of wealth and indolence-the ample | all ranks entertain of them is, that they are mirror, flowery floor, and magnificent couch, mean-spirited loquacious liars, cunning and their surrounding attendants; while, suspended illiterate, watching every opportunity, and in his wiry habitation above, the shrill-piped using every mean art within their power, to canary warbles to enchanting echoes. Within cheat." This is a sad account of the estithe confines of that sickly hovel, hung round mation in which a trade was then held in with squadrons of his brother-artists, the pale- Scotland, which the greatest of our living poets faced weaver plies the resounding lay, or has attributed to the chief character in a poem launches the melancholy murmuring shuttle. comprehensive of philosophical discussions Lifting his simple latch, and stooping for en- on all the highest interests of humanity. But trance to the miserable hut, there sits poverty both Wilson and Wordsworth are in the right: and ever-moaning disease, clothed in dunghill both saw and have spoken truth. Most small rags, and ever shivering over the fireless packmen were then, in some measure, what chimney. Ascending this stair, the voice of Wilson says they were generally esteemed joy bursts on my ear-the bridegroom and to be-peddling pilferers, and insignificant bride, surrounded by their jocund companions, swindlers. Poverty sent them swarming over circle the sparkling glass and humorous joke, bank and brae, and the “sma' kintra touns' or join in the raptures of the noisy dance-the and for a plack people will forget principle squeaking fiddle breaking through the general who have, as we say in Scotland, missed the uproar in sudden intervals, while the sound world. Wilson knew that to a man like himing floor groans Leaving these happy mortals, and ushering and he latterly vented his contemptuous into this silent mansion, a more solemn-a sense of it, exaggerating the baseness of the striking object presents itself to my view. name and nature of packman. But suppose The windows, the furniture, and every thing such a man as Wilson to have been in better that could lend one cheerful thought, are hung times one of but a few packmen travelling in solemn white; and there, stretched pale and regularly for years over the same country, lifeless, lies the awful corpse, while a few each with his own district or domain, and weeping friends sit, black and solitary, near there can be no doubt that he would have she breathless clay. In this other place, the been an object both of interest and of respect fearless sons of Bacchus extend their brazen -his opportunities of seeing the very best throats, in shouts like bursting thunder, to the and the very happiest of humble life, in praise of their gorgeous chief. Opening this itself very various, would have been very door, the lonely matron explores, for consola- great; and with his original genius, he would tion, her Bible; and in this house the wife have become, like Wordsworth's Pedlar, a brawls, the children shriek, and the poor hus- good moral Philosopher. band bids me depart, lest his termagant's Without, therefore, denying the truth of his fury should vent itself on me. In short, such picture of packmanship, we may believe the án inconceivable variety daily occurs to my truth of a picture entirely the reverse, from the observation in real life, that would, were they hand and heart of a still wiser man--though moralized upon, convey more maxims of wis- his wisdom has been gathered from less imdom, and give a juster knowledge of mankind, mediate contact with the coarse garments and than whole volumes of Lives and Adventures, clay floors of the labouring poor. that perhaps never had a being except in the It is pleasant to hear Wordsworth speak of prolific brains of their fantastic authors." his own “personal knowledge” of packmen or

At a subsequent period he retraced his steps, pedlars. We cannot say of him in the words taking with him copies of his poems to dis- of Burns, " the fient a pride, nae pride had he;" tribute among subscribers, and endeavour to for pride and power are brothers on earth, promote a more extensive circulation. Of this whatever they may prove to be in heaven. excursion also he has given an account in his But his prime pride is his poetry; and he had journal, from which it appears that his suc- not now been “sole king of rocky Cumberland,”

was far from encouraging. Among had he not studied the character of his subjects amusing incidents, sketches of character, in “huts where poor men lie”—had he not occasional sound and intelligent remarks stopped his anointed head” beneath the doors upon the manners and prospects of the com- of such huts, as willingly as he ever raised it mon classes of society into which he found aloft, with all its glorious laurels, in the palaces his way, there are not a few severe expressions of nobles and princes. Yes, the inspiration indicative of deep disappointment, and some he“ derived from the light of setting suns,” that merely bespeak the keener pangs of the was not so sacred as that which often kindled wounded pride founded on conscious merit. within his spirit all the divinity of Christian “ You,” says he, on one occasion, “whose man, when conversing charitably with his souls are susceptible of the finest feelings, who brother-man, a wayfarer on the dusty highare elevated to rapture with the least dawnings road, or among the green lanes and alleys of of hope, and sunk into despondency with the merry England. You are a scholar, and love slightest thwartings of your expectations poetry? Then here you have it of the finest, think what I felt.” Wilson himself attributed and will be sad to think that heaven had not his ill fortune, in his attempts to gain the made you a pedlar. humble patronage of the poor for his poetical pursuits, to his occupation. “A packman is a “In days of yore how fortunately fared character which none esteems, and almost

Baronial Court or Royal; cheer'd with gifts every one despises. The idea that people of Munificent, and love, and Ladies' praise ;


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Now meeting on his road an armed Knight,

" The Boy must part from Mosedale groves Now resting with a Pilgrim by the side

And leave Blencathara's rugged coves, Of a clear brook ;-beneath an Abbey's roof

And quit the flowers that summer brings One evening sumptuously lodged; the next

To Glenderamakin's lofty springs; Humbly, in a religious Hospital;

Must vanish, and his careless cheer
Or with some merry Outlaws of the wood;

Be turn'd to heaviness and fear.'
Or haply shrouded in a Hermit's cell.
Him, sleeping or awake, the Robber spared;

Sir Launcelot Threlkeld shelters him till He walk'd-protected from the sword of war

again he is free to set his foot on the mounBy virtue of that sacred Instrument

tains. His Harp, suspended at the Traveller's side, His dear companion wheresoe'er he went,

“Again he wanders forth at will, Opening from Land to Land an easy way

And tends a flock from bill to hill: By melody, and by the charm of verse.

His garb is humble; ne'er was seen Yet not the noblest of that honour'd Race

Such garb with such a noble mien ; Drew happier, loftier, more empassion'd thoughts

Among the shepherd grooms no mate
From his long journeyings and eventful life,

Hath he, a child of strength and state.”
Than this obscure Itinerant had skill
To gather, ranging through the tamer ground

So lives he till he is restored
Of these our unimaginative days;

“Glad were the vales, and every cottage hearth; Both while he trode the earth in humblest guise,

The shepherd-lord was honour'd more and more; Accoutred with his burden and his staff';

And, ages after he was laid in earth, And now, when free to move with lighter pace.

“The good Lord Clifford' was the name he bore !" “What wonder, then, if I, whose favourite School Now mark—that Poem has been declared Hath been the fields, the roads, and rural lanes, Look'd on this Guide with reverential love ?

one and all of the “ Poets of Britain” to be Each with the other pleased, we now pursued equal to any thing in the language; and its Our journey-beneath favourable skies. Turn wheresoe'er we would, he was a light

greatness lies in the perfect truth of the Unfailing: not a hamlet could we pass,

profound philosophy which so poetically deRarely a house, that did not yield to him

lineates the education of the naturally noble Remembrances; or from his tongue call forth

character of Clifford. Does he sink in our Some way-beguiling tale. -Nor was he loath to enter ragged huts,

esteem because at the Feast of the RestoraHuts where his charity was blest; his voice

tion he turns a deaf ear to the fervent harper Heard as the voice of an experienced friend.

who sings, And, sometimes, where the Poor Man held dispute With his own mind, unable to subdue

Happy day and happy the hour, Impatience, through inaptness to perceive

When our shepherd in his power, General distress in his particular lot;

Mounted, mail'd, with lance and sword, Or cherishing resentment, or in vain

To his ancestors restored, Struggling against it, with a soul perplex'd,

Like a re-appearing star, And finding in herself no steady power

Like a glory from afar,
To draw the line of comfort that divides

First shall head the flock of war ?"
Calamity, the chastisement of Heaven,
From the injustice of our brother men;

No-his generous nature is true to its geneTo him appeal was made as to a judge ;

rous nurture; and now deeply imbued with Who, with an understanding heart, allay'd The perturbation; listen’d to the plea;

the goodness he had too long loved in others Resolved the dubious point; and sentence gave ever to forget, he appears noblest when showSo grounded, so applied, that it was heard

ing himself faithful in his own hall to the With softened spirit-e'en when it condemn'd.”

huts where poor men lie;" while we know What was to hinder such a man--thus born not, at the solemn close, which life the Poet and thus bred-with such a youth and such a has most glorified—the humble or the highprime~from being in his old age worthy of whether the Lord did the Shepherd more enwalking among the mountains with Words-noble, or the Shepherd the Lord. worth, and descanting

Now, we ask, is there any essential differ

ence between what Wordsworth thus records “On man, on nature, and on human life ?"

of the high-born Shepherd-Lord in the Feast And remember he was a Scotsman-compatriot of Brougham Castle, and what he records of of CHRISTOPHER NORTH.

the low-born Pedlar in the Excursion ? None. What would you rather have had the Sage They are both educated among the hills; and in the Excursion to have been? The Senior

The Senior according to the nature of their own souls and Fellow of a College ? A Head ? A retired that of their education, is the progressive Judge ? An Ex-Lord Chancellor ? A Na- growth and ultimate formation of their chabob? A Banker? A Millionaire ? or, at once racter. Both are exalted beings-because both to condescend on individuals, Natus Consu- are wise and good—but to his own coeval he mere Fruges, Esquire? or the Honourable has given, besides eloquence and genius, Custos Rotulorum ?

“ The vision and the faculty divine," You have read, bright bold neophyte, the

that's Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle, upon

“When years had brought the philosophic mind” the restoration of Lord Clifford, the Shepherd, to the estates and honours of his ancestors ? he might walk through the dominions of the

Intellect and the Imagination, a Sage and a “Who is he that bounds with joy On Carrock's side, a shepherd boy?

Teacher. No thoughts hath he but thoughts that pass

Look into life, and watch the growth of chaLight as the wind along the grass.

racter. Men are not what they seem to the Can this be He that hither came In secret, like a smother'd flame?

outward eye-mere machines moving about For whom such thoughtful tears were shed in customary occupations-productive labourFor shelter and a poor man's bread?

ers of food and wearing apparel--slaves from Who but the same noble boy whom his high- morn to night at taskwork set them by the born mother in disastrous days had confided Wealth of Nations. They are the Children when an infant to the care of a peasant. Yet of God. The soul never sleeps--not even there he is no longer safe-and

when its wearied body is heard snoring by

K к

people living in the next street. All the souls ( nevis, Helvellyn in England, in Ireland the now in this world are for ever awake; and Reeks; and you see that they are mere molethis life, believe us, though in moral sadness hills to Chimborazo. Nevertheless, they are it has often been rightly called so, is no dream. the hills of the Eagle. And think ye not that In a dream we have no will of our own, no an Eagle glorifies the sky more than a Condor ? power over ourselves; ourselves are not felt That Vulture-for Vulture he is-flies leagueto be ourselves; our familiar friends seem high-the Golden Eagle is satisfied to poise strangers from some far off country; the dead himself half a mile above the loch, which, are alive, yet we wonder not; the laws of the judged by the rapidity of its long river's flow, physical world are suspended, or changed, or may be based a thousand feet or more above confused by our fantasy; Intellect, Imagina- the level of the sea. From that height methinks tion, the Moral Sense, Affection, Passion, are the Bird-Royal, with the golden eye, can see not possessed by us in the same way we pos- the rising and the setting sun, and his march sess them out of that mystery: were life a on the meridian, without a telescope. If ever Dream, or like a Dream, it would never lead he fly by night-and we think we have seen a to Heaven.

shadow passing the stars that was on the wing Again, then, we say to you, look into life and of life-he must be a rare astronomer. watch the growth of character. In a world High from the summit of a craggy cliff where the ear cannot listen without hearing

Hung o'er the deep, such as amazing frown the clank of chains, the soul may yet be free

On utmost Kilda's shore, whose lonely race

Resign the setting sun to Indian worlds, as if it already inhabited the skies. For its The Royal Eagle rears his vigorous young, Maker gave it LIBERTY OF CHOICE OF GOOD OR Strong-pounced and burning with paternal fire.

Now fit to raise a kingdom of their own of Eyıl; and if it has chosen the good it is a

He drives them from his fort, the towering seat King. All its faculties are then fed on their For ages of his empire; which in peace appropriate food provided for them in nature.

Unstain'd he holds, while many a league to sea It then knows where the necessaries and the

He wings his course, and preys in distant isles.' luxuries of its life grow, and how they may be Do you long for wings, and envy the Eagle? gathered-in a still sunny region inaccessible Not if you be wise. Alas! such is human to blight—“no mildewed ear blasting his nature, that in one year's time the novelty of wholesome brother.” In the beautiful language pinions would be over, and you would skim of our friend Aird

undelighted the edges of the clouds. Why do And thou shalt summer high in bliss upon the Hills of

we think it a glorious thing to fly from the God."

summit of some inland mountain away to disGo, read the Excursion then--venerate the tant isles? Because our feet are bound to the PEDLAR — pity the SOLITARY — respect the dust. We enjoy the eagle's flight far more PRIEST, and love the PoET.

than the eagle himself driving headlong before So charmed have we been with the sound of the storm; for imagination dallies with the our own voice-of all sounds on earth the unknown power, and the wings that are denied sweetest surely to our ears—and, therefore, we to our bodies are expanded in our souls. Subso dearly love the monologue, and from the lime are the circles the sun-staring creature dialogue turn averse, impatient of him ycleped traces in the heavens, to us who lie stretched the interlocutor, who, like a shallow brook, among the heather bloom. Could we do the will keep prattling and babbling on between same, we should still be longing to pierce the still deep pools of our discourse, which through the atmosphere to some other planet; nature feeds with frequent waterfalls—so and an elevation of leagues above the snows charmed have we been with the sound of our of the Himalayas would not satisfy our aspiraown voice, that scarcely conscious the while tions. But we can calculate the distances of of more than a gentle ascent along the sloping the stars, and are happy as Galileo in his sward of a rural Sabbath day's journey, we dungeon. perceive now that we must have achieved a Yet an Eagle we are, and therefore proud of Highland league-five miles—of rough uphill You our Scottish mountains, as you are of Us. work, and are standing tiptoe on the Mountain Stretch yourself up to your full height as we top. True that his altitude is not very great pow do to ours-and let “Andes, giant of the somewhere, we should suppose, between two Western Star," but dare to look at us, and we and three thousand feet-much higher than the will tear the "meteor standard to the winds Pentlands somewhat higher than the Ochils unfurled" from his cloudy hands. There you

a middle-sized Grampian. Great painters stand—and were you to rear your summits and poets know that power lies not in mere much higher into heaven you would alarm the measurable bulk. Atlas, it is true, is a giant, hidden stars. and he has need to be so, supporting the globe. Yet we have seen you higher-but it was in So is Andes; but his strength has never been storm. In calm like this, you do well to look put to proof, as he carries but clouds. The beautiful-your solemn altitude suits the sunny Cordilleras-but we must not be personal—so season, and the peaceful sky. But when the suffice it to say, that soul, not size, equally in thunder at mid-day would hide your heads in a mountains and in men, is and inspires the true night of cloud, you thrust them through the sublime. Mont Blanc might be as big again; blackness, and show them to the glens, crownbut what then, if without his glaciers ?

ed with fire. These mountains are neither immense nor Are they a sea of mountains! No-they are enormous-nor are there any such in the mountains in a sea. And what a sea! Waves British Isles. Look for a few of the highest on of water, when at the prodigious, are never Riddell's ingenious Scale-in Scotland Ben- higher than the foretop of a man-of-war. Waves

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