« PredošláPokračovať »
is the true theory of the phenomenon seems to each particular barn-door, when the farmers be proved by this--that when the “ Lang Gun” were at work, you might have thought you saw was, in the act of firing, laid across the shoul- the entire sparrow population of the parish ders of two boys standing about a yard the one Seldom a Sabbath, during pairing, building, before the other, she kicked every bit as well breeding, nursing, and training season, could as the blunderbuss. Her lock was of a very you hear a single syllable of the sermon for peculiar construction. It was so contrived that, their sakes, all a-huddle and a-chirp in the bel when on full cock, the dog-head, as we used to fry and among the old loose slates. On every call it, stood back at least seven inches, and stercoraceous deposit on coach, cart, or bridle unless the flint was put in to a nicety, by pull- road, they were busy on grain and pulse; and, ing the trigger you by no means caused any in spite of cur and cat, legions embrowned uncovering of the pan, but things in general every cottage garden. Emigration itself in semained in statu quo-and there was perfect many million families would have left no persilence. She had a worm-eaten stock into ceptible void; and the inexterminable multiwhich the barrel seldom was able to get itself tude would have laughed at the Plague. fairly inserted; and even with the aid of cir- The other small birds of the parish began to cumvoluting twine, 'twas always coggly. Thus, feel their security from our shot, and sung their too, the vizy (Anglice sight) generally inclined best, unscared on hedge, bush, and tree. Perunduly to one side or the other, and was the haps, too, for sake of their own sweet strains, cause of all of us every day hitting and hurting we spared the lyrists of Scotland, the linnet objects of whose existence even we were not and the lark, the one in the yellow broom, the aware, till alarmed by the lowing or the gal- other beneath the rosy cloud--while there was loping of cattle on the hills; and we hear now ever a sevenfold red shield before -Robin's the yell of an old woman in black bonnet and breast, whether flitting silent as a falling leaf, red cloak, who shook her staff at us like a witch, or trilling his autumnal lay on the rigging or with the blood running down the furrows of her pointed gable-end of barn or brye. Now and face, and with many oaths maintained that she then the large bunting, conspicuous on a topwas murdered. The “ Lang Gun” had cer- twig, and proud of his rustic psalmody, tempted tainly a strong vomit-and, with slugs or his own doom-or the cunning stone-chat, swan-shot, was dangerous at two hundred glancing about the old dikes usually shot at yards to any living thing. Bob Howie, at in vain—or yellow-hammer, under the ban of that distance arrested the career of a mad dog the national superstition, with a drop of the
a single slug having been sent through the devil's blood beneath his pretty crest, pretty in eye into the brain. We wonder if one or both spite of that cruel creed-or green-finch, too of those companions of our boyhood be yet rich in plumage for his poorer song-or shilfas alive-or, like many other great guns that the beautiful nest-builder, shivering his whitehave since made more noise in the world, plumed wings in shade and sunshine, in joy fallen a silent prey to the rust of oblivion. the most rapturous, in grief the most despairing
Not a boy in the school had a game certifi- of all the creatures of the air-or redpole, bacate-or, as it was called in the parish—"a lanced on the down of the thistle or flower of leeshance." Nor, for a year or two, was such the bunweed on the old clovery lea-or, haply a permit necessary; as we confined ourselves twice seen in a season, the very goldfinch almost exclusively to sparrows. Not that we himself, a radiant and gorgeous spirit brought had any personal animosity to the sparrow in- on the breeze from afar, and worthy, if only dividually-on the contrary, we loved him, slightly wounded, of being enclosed within a and had a tame one-a fellow of infinite fancy silver cage from Fairy Land. -with comb and wattles of crimson cloth like But we waxed more ambitious as we grew a gamecock. But their numbers, without old-and then wo to the rookery on the elmnumber numberless, seemed to justify the hu- tree grove! Down dropt the dark denizens in manest of boys in killing any quantity of dozens, rebounding with a thud and a skraigh sprauchs. Why, they would sometimes settle from the velvet moss, which under that um. on the clipped half-thorn and half-beech hedge brage formed firm floor for Titania's feet of the Manse garden in myriads, midge-like; while others kept dangling dead or dying by and then out any two of us, whose day it hap- the claws, cheating the crusted pie, and all the pened to be, used to sally with Muckle-mou'd blue skies above were intercepted by cawing Meg and the Lang Gun, charged two hands and clouds of distracted parents, now dipping dowo a finger; and with a loud shout, startling them in despair almost within a shot, and now, as from their roost like the sudden casting of a if sick of this world, soaring away up into the swarm of bees, we let drive into the whir-a very heavens, and disappearing to return no shower of feathers was instantly seen swim- more-till sunset should bring silence, and the ming in the air, and flower-bed and onion bed night air roll off the horrid smell of sulphur covered with scores of the mortally wounded from the desolated bowers'; and then indeed old cocks with black heads, old hens with would they come all flying back upon their brown, and the pride of the eaves laid low be strong instinct, like black-sailed barks before fore their first crop of peas! Never was there the wind, some from the depth of far-off firsuch a parish for sparrows. You had but to woods, where they had lain quacking at the iling a stone into any stack-yard, and up rose ceaseless cannonade, some from the furrows a sprauch-shower. The thatch of every cottage of the new-braided fields aloof on the uplands, was drilled by them like honey-combs. House- some from deep dell close at hand, and some spouts were of no use in rainy weather-for from the middle of the moorish wilderness. Wey were all choked up by sprauch-nests. At! Happiest of all human homes, beautiful Craig-Hall! For so even now dost thou ap- | brightness of her contentment; through the pear to be-in the rich, deep, mellow, green heaviest flood the blue skies will still be light of imagination trembling on tower and making their appearance with an impatient tree-art thou yet undilapidated and undecayed, smile, and all the rivers and burns, with the in thy old manorial solemnity almost majesti- multitude of their various voices, sing praises cal, though even then thou hadst long been unto Heaven. tenanted but by an humble farmer's family- Therefore, bathing our feet in beauty, we people of low degree? The evening-festival went bounding over the flowery fields and of the First Day of the Rooks-nay, scoff not broomy braes to the grove-girdled Craig-Hall. at such an anniversary-was still held in thy During the long noisy day, we thought not of ample kitchen-of old the bower of brave lords the coming evening, happy as we knew it was and ladies bright--while the harper, as he sung to be; and during the long and almost as noisy his song of love or war, kept his eyes fixed on evening, we forgot all the pastime of the day. her who sat beneath the deas. The days of Weeks before, had each of us engaged his chivalry were gone—and the days had come partner for the first country dance, by right of curds and cream, and, preferred by some his own when supper came, and to sit close to people though not by us, of cream-cheese. Old him with her tender sido, with waist at first men and old women, widowers and widows, stealthily arm-encircled, and at last boldly and yet all alike cheerful and chatty at a great age, almost with proud display. In the churchyard, for often as they near the dead, how more life- before or after Sabbath-service, a word whislike seem the living! Middle-aged men and pered into the ear of blooming and blushing middle-aged women, husbands and wives, those rustic sufficed; or if that opportunity failed, sedate, with hair combed straight on their fore- the angler had but to step into her father's heads, sun-burnt faces, and horny hands esta- burn-side cottage, and with the contents of his blished on their knees-these serene, with basket leave a tender request, and from be countenances many of them not unlovely-hind the gable-end carry away a word, a smile comely all-and with arms decently folded a kiss, and a waving farewell. beneath their matronly bosoms-as they sat in Many a high-roofed hall have we, since those their holyday dresses, feeling as if the season days, seen, made beautiful with festoons and of youth had hardly yet flown by, or were, on garlands, beneath the hand of taste and genius such a merry meeting, for a blink restored! decorating, for some splendid festival, the abode Boys and virgins-those bold even in their of the noble expecting a still nobler guest. But bashfulness—these blushing whenever eyes oh! what pure bliss, and what profound, was met eyes—nor would they-nor could they—then breathed into the bosom of boyhood from have spoken in the hush to save their souls; that glorious branch of hawthorn, in the chimyet ere the evening star arose, many a pretty ney-itself almost a tree, so thick-so deep maiden had, down looking and playing with so rich its load of blossoms--so like its frathe hem of her garment, sung linnet-like her grance to something breathed from heavenain favourite auld Scottish sang! and many a and so transitory in its sweetness too, that as sweet sang even then delighted Scotia's spirit, she approached to inhale it, down fell many a though Robin Burns was but a youth-walking snow-flake to the virgin's breath-in an hour mute among the wild-flowers on the moor-all melted quite away! No broom that now-anor aware of the immortal melodies soon to days grows on the brae, so yellow as the broom breathe from his impassioned heart!
-the golden broom--the broom that seemed still Of all the year's holydays, not even except to keep the hills in sunlight long after the sun ing the First of May, this was the most delight- himself had sunk--the broom in which we first ful. The First of May, longed for so passion found the lintwhite's nest-and of its petals, ately from the first peep of the primrose, more precious than pearls, saw framed a sometimes came deformed with mist and wreath for the dark hair of that dark-eyed cloud, or cheerless with whistling winds, girl, an orphan, and melancholy even in her or winter-like with a sudden fall of snow. merriment-dark-haired and dark-eyed indeed, And thus all our hopes were dashed the but whose forehead, whose bosom, were yet roomy hay-wagon remained in its shed-whiter than the driven snow. Greenhouses the preparations made for us in the distant conservatories--orangeries-are exquisitely moorland farmhouse were vain—the fishing- balmy still--and, in presence of these strange rods hung useless on the nails—and discon- plants, one could believe that he had been solate schoolboys sat moping in corners, sorry, transported to some rich foreign clime. But ashamed, and angry with Scotland's springs. now we carry the burden of our years along But though the “leafy month of June" be fre- with us—and that consciousness bedims the quently showery, it is almost always sunny too. blossoms, and makes mournful the balm, as Every half hour there is such a radiant blink from flowers in some fair burial-place, breaththat the young heart sings aloud for joy; sum- ing of the tomb. But oh! that Craig-Hall hawmer rain makes the hair grow, and hats are thorn! and oh! that Craig-Hall broom ! they little or no use towards the Longest Day; there send their sweet rich scent so far into the is something cheerful even in thunder, if it hushed air of memory, that all the weary wornbe not rather too near; the lark has not yet out weaknesses of age drop from us like a ceased altogether to sing, for he soars over garment, and even now—the flight of that swalhis second nest, unappalled beneath the sablest lowseems more aerial-more alive with blisshis cloud; the green earth repels from her reful-clay-built nest—the ancient long-ago blue of the gent bosom the blackest shadows, nor will sky returns to heaven-not for many a, many suffer herself to be saddened in the fulness and la long year have we seen so fair~so frail-50 transparent and angel-mantle-looking a cloud ! serpent. Flash! Bang! over he goes dead-. The very viol speaks--the very dance responds no, not dead—but how unlike that unavailing in Craig-Hall : this—this is the very festival fiapping, as head over heels he goes spinning of the First Day of the Rooks—Mary Mather, over the tarn, to the serene unsettling of himthe pride of the parish—the county--the land self from sod or stone, when, his hunger sated, -the earth—is our partner-and long mayest and his craw filled with fish for his far-off thou, O moon! remain behind thy cloud-brood, he used to lift his blue bulk into the air, when the parting kiss is given-and the love- and with long depending legs, at first floated setter, at that tenderest moment, dropped into away like a wearied thing, but soon, as his her bosom!
plumes felt the current of air homewards But we have lost the thread of our discourse, Rowing, urged swifter and swifter his easy and must pause to search for it, even like a course-laggard and lazy no more leaving spinster of old, in the disarranged spindle of leagues behind him, ere you had shifted your one of those pretty little wheels now heard no motion in watching his cloudlike career, soon more in the humble ingle, hushed by machi- invisible among the woods ! nery clink-clanking with power-looms in every The disgorged eels are returned-some of town and city of the land. Another year, and them alive-to their native element—the mud. we often found ourselves-alone-or with one And the dead heron floats away before small chosen comrade; for even then we began to winds and waves into the middle of the tarn. have our sympathies and antipathies, not only Where is he-the matchless Newfoundlander with roses and lilies, or to cats and cheese, but nomine gaudens Fro, because white as the with or to the eyes, and looks, and foreheads, froth of the sea ? Off with a colley. So-stript and hair, and voices, and motions, and silence, with the first intention, we plunge from a and rest of human beings, loving them with a rock, and, perfect love-we must not say hating them with " Though in the scowl of heaven, the tarn a perfect hatred-alone or with a friend, among
Grows dark as we are swimming," the mists and marshes of moors, in silent and Draco-like, breast-high, we stem the surge, stealthy search of the solitary curlew, that is, and with the heron floating before us, return the Whawp! At first sight of his long bill to the heather-fringed shore, and give three aloft above the rushes, we could hear our heart cheers that startle the echoes, asleep from beating quick time in the desert; at the turn-year's end to year's end, in the Grey-Linn ing of his neck, the body being yet still, our Cairn. heart ceased to beat altogether-and we grew Into the silent twilight of many a wild rocksick with hope when near enough to see the and-river scene, beautiful and bewildering as wild beauty of his eye. Unfolded, like a the fairy work of sleep, will he find himself thought, was then the brown silence of the brought who knows where to seek the heron shy creature's ample wings-and with a in all his solitary haunts. For often when the warning cry he wheeled away upon the wind, moors are storm-swept, and his bill would be unharmed by our ineffectual hail, seen falling baffled by the waves of tarn and loch, he sails far short of the deceptive distance, while his away from his swinging-tree, and through mate that had lain couched-perhaps in her some open glade dipping down to the secluded nest of eggs or young, exposed yet hidden stream, alights within the calm chasm, and within killing range, half-running, half-fly- folds his wings in the breezeless air. The ing, flapped herself into flight, simulating clouds are driving fast aloft in a carry from lame leg and wounded wing; and the two the sea-but they are all reflected in that peldisappearing together behind the hills, left lucid pool-so perfect the cliff-guarded repose. us in our vain reason thwarted by instinct, A better day a better hourma better minute to resume with live hopes rising out of the for fishing could not have been chosen by Mr. ashes of the dead, our daily-disappointed Heron, who is already swallowing a par. quest over the houseless mosses. Yet now Another-and another--but something falls and then to our steady aim the bill of the from the rock into the water; and suspicious, whawp disgorged blood-and as we felt the though unalarmed, he leisurely addresses himfeathers in our hand, and from tip to tip eyed self to a short flight up the channel-round the outstretched wings, Fortune, we felt, had that tower-like cliff standing strangely by no better boon to bestow, earth no greater tri- itself, with a crest of self-sown flowering umph.
shrubs; and lo! another vista, if possible, just Hush-stoop-kneel-crawl--for by all our a degree more silent-more secluded—more hopes of mercy -a heron_a heron! An eel solitary_beneath the mid-day night of woods ! dangling across his bill! And now the water. To shoot thee there would be as impious as serpent has disappeared! From morning dawn to have killed a sacred Ibis stalking in the hath the fowl been fishing here-perhaps on shade of an Egyptian temple. Yet it is fortuthat very stone-for it is one of those days when nate for thee--folded up there, as thou art, as eels are a-roaming in the shallows, and the motionless as thy sitting-stone--that at this heron knows that they are as likely to pass by moment we have no fire-arms—for we had that stone as any otherfrom morning dawn heard of a fish-like trout in that very pool, and -and 'tis now past meridian, half-past two! this–O Heron-is no gun but a rod. Thou Be propitious, oh ye Fates! and never-never believest thyself to be in utter solitude-no
shall he again fold his wings on the edge of sportsman but thyself in the chasm-for the his gaping nest, on the trees that overtop the otter, thou knowest, loves not such very rocky only tower left of the old castle. Another eel! rivers; and fish with bitten shoulder seldom and we too can crawl silent as the sinuous lies here—that epicure's tasted prey. Let within ten yards of thee lies couched thy kle-mou'd Meg! neither thou nor the “Lang enemy, who once had a design upon thee, even Gun” are of any avail here--for that old drake, in the very egg. Our mental soliloquy disturbs who, together with his shadow, on which he not thy watchful sense for the air stirs not seems to be sitting, is almost as big as a boat when the soul thinks, or feels, or fancies about in the water, the outermost landward sentinel, man, bird, or beast. We feel, O Heron! that near as he seems to be in the deception of the there is not only humanity—but poetry, in our clear frosty air, is yet better than three hunbeing. Imagination haunts and possesses us dred yards from the shore-and, at safe disin our pastimes, colouring them even with tance, cocks his eye at the fowler. There is serious-solemn-and sacred light-and thou no boat on the loch, and knowing that, how assuredly hast something priest-like and an- tempting in its unapproachable reeds and cient in thy look-and about thy light-blue rushes, and hut-crested knoll-a hut built perplume robes, which the very elements admire haps by some fowler, in the olden time-yon and reverence-the waters wetting them not-central Isle! But be still as a shadow--for nor the winds ruffling and moreover we love lo! a batch of Whig-seceders, paddling all by thee-Heron--for the sake of that old castle, themselves towards that creek--and as surely beside whose gloom thou utteredst thy first as our name is Christopher, in another quarter feeble cry! A Ruin nameless, traditionless of an hour, they will consist of killed, wounded, sole, undisputed property of Oblivion ! and missing. On our belly--with unhatted
Hurra!--Heron-hurra! why, that was an head just peering over the knowe-and Muckleawkward tumble--and very nearly had we mou'd Meg slowly and softly stretched out on hold of thee by the tail! Didst thou take us the rest, so as not to rustle a windle-strae, we for a water-kelpie ? A fright like that is lie motionless as a mawkin, till the coterie enough to leave thee an idiot all the rest of collects together for simultaneous dive down thy life. 'Tis a wonder thou didst not go into to the aquatic plants and insects of the fastfits—but thy nerves must be sorely shaken-- shallowing bay; and, just as they are upon the and what an account of this adventure will turn with their tails, a single report, loud as a certainly be shrieked unto thy mate, to the volley, scatters the unsparing slugs about their music of the creaking boughs! Not, even doups, and the still clear water, in sudden diswert thou a secular bird of ages, wouldst thou turbance, is afloat with scattered feathers, and ever once again revisit this dreadful place. stained with blood. For fear has a wondrous memory in all dumb Now is the time for the snow-white, here creatures-and rather wouldst thou see thy nest and there ebon-spotted Fro-who with burning die of famine, than seek for fish in this man- eyes haš lain couched like a spaniel, his quick monster-haunted pool! Farewell! farewell! breath ever and anon trembling on a passionate
Many are the hundreds of hill and mountain whine, to bounce up, as if discharged by a lochs to us as familiarly known, round all catapulta, and first with immense and enortheir rushy or rocky margins, as that pond mous high-and-far leaps, and then, fleet as any there in the garden of Buchanan Lodge. That greyhound, with a breast-brushing brattle down pond has but one goose and one gander, and the brae, to dash, all fours, like a flying squirnine goslings-about half-a-dozen trouts, if in-rel fearlessly from his tree, many yards into deed they have not sickened and died of Nos- the bay with one splashing and momentarily talgia, missing in the stillness the gurgle of disappearing spang, and then, head and their native Tweed-and a brace of perch, shoulders and broad line of back and rudder now nothing but prickle. But the lochs—the tail, all elevated above or level with the wavy hill, the mountain lochs now in our mind's water line, to mouth first that murdered maweye and our mind's ear,-heaven and earth! sey of a mallard, lying as still as if she had the bogs are black with duck, teal, and widgeon been dead for years, with her round, fat, brown -up there “comes for food or play” to the bosom towards heaven--then that old Drake, holla of the winds, a wedge of wild geese, in a somewhat similar posture, but in more piercing the marbled heavens with clamour-gorgeous apparel, his belly being of a pale and lo! in the very centre of the mediterranean, gyay, and his back delicately pencilled and the Royal Family of the Swans! Up springs crossed with numberless waved dusky linesthe silver sea-trout in the sunshine-see Sir precious prize to one skilled like us in the Humphrey !-a salmon—a salmon fresh run angling art-next-nobly done, glorious Froin love and glory from the sea!
that cream colour crowned widgeon, with For how many admirable articles are there bright rufus chestnut breast, separated from themes in the above short paragraph! Duck, the neck by loveliest waved ash-brown and teal, and widgeon, wild-geese, swans! And white lines, while our mind's eye feasteth on first, duck, teal, and widgeon. There they are, the indescribable and changeable green beautyall collected together, without regard to party spot of his wings--and now, if we mistake not, politics, in their very best attire, as thick as a Golden Eye, best described by his namethe citizens of Edinburgh, their wives, sweet- finally, that exquisite little duck the Teal; yes, hearts, and children, on the Calton Hill, on poetical in its delicately pencilled spots as an the first day of the king's visit to Scotland. As Indian shell, and when kept to an hour, roasted thick, but not so steady-for what swimming to a minute, gravied in its own wild richness, about in circles—what ducking and diving is with some few other means and appliances to there !-all the while accompanied with a sort boot, carved finely-most finely-by razor-like of low, thick, gurgling, not unsweet, nor un- knife, in a hand skilful to dissect and cunning musical quackery, the expression of the intense to divide-tasted by a tongue and palate both joy of feeding, freedom, and play. Oh! Muc-) healthily pure as the dewy petal of a morning
rose -swallowed by a gullet felt gradually to more have we ourselves ?-of life and of be extending itself in its intense delight-and death! Why fear to say that thou wert direceived into a stomach yawning with greed vinely commissioned and inspired--on that and gratitude,-oh! surely the thrice-blessed most dismal and shrieking hour, when little of all web-footed birds; the apex of Apician Harry Seymour, that bright English boy, luxury; and able, were any thing on the face "whom all that looked on loved," entangled of this feeble earth able, to detain a soul, on among the cruel chains of those fair waterthe very brink of fate, a short quarter of an lilies, all so innocently yet so murderously hour from an inferior Elysium!
floating round him, was, by all standing or How nobly, like a craken or sea-serpent, running about there with clenched hands, or Fro reareth his massy head above the foam, kneeling on the sod-given up to inextricable his gathered prey seized-all four-by their death? We were not present to save the dear limber necks, and brightening, like a bunch of boy, who had been delivered to our care as to flowers, as they glitter towards the shore! that of an elder brother, by the noble lady who, With one bold body-shake, felt to the point of in her deep widow's weeds, kissed her sole each particular hair, he scatters the water darling's sunny head, and disappeared. We from his coat like mist, reminding one of that were not present--or by all that is holiest in glorious line in Shakspeare,
heaven or on earthour arms had been soon “Like dewdrops from the Lion's mane,"
around thy neck, when thou wert seemingly
about to perish! advancing with sinewy legs seemingly length
But a poor, dumb, despised dog---nothing, as ened by the drenching flood, and dripping tail
some say, but animated dust-was there--and stretched out in all its broad longitude, with without shout or signal--for all the Christian hair almost like white hanging plumes-mag, creatures were alike helpless in their despair nificent as tail of the Desert-Born at the head shot swift as a sunbeam over the deep, and of his seraglio in the Arabian Sands. Halfway by those golden tresses, sinking and brightenhis master meets his beloved Fro on the slope; ing through the wave, brought the noble child and first proudly and haughtily pausing to ashore, and stood over him, as if in joy and mark our eye, and then humbly, as beseemeth sorrow, lying too like death on the sand! And one whom nature, in his boldest and brightest when little Harry opened his glazed eyes, and bearing, hath yet made a slave-he lays the looked bewildered on all the faces aroundoffering at our feet, and having felt on his and then fainted, and revived and fainted again capacious forehead the approving pressure of —till at last he came to dim recollection of our hand,
this world on the bosom of the physician “While, like the murmur of a dream, brought thither with incomprehensible speed He hears us breathe his name,
from his dwelling afar off-thou didst lick his he suddenly flings himself round with a wheel cold white hands and blue face, with a whine of transport, and in many a widening circle that struck awful pity into all hearts, and thou pursues his own uncontrollable ecstasies with didst follow him—one of the group--as he was whirlwind speed; till, as if utterly joy-ex- borne along—and frisking and gambolling no hausted, he brings his snow-white bulk into more all that day, gently didst thou lay thyself dignified repose on a knoll, that very moment down at the feet of his little bed, and watch illuminated by a burst of sunshine!
there unsleeping all night long! For the boy Not now-as fades upon our pen the solemn knew that God had employed one of his lowly light of the dying day--shall we dare to decide, creatures to save him and beseeched that he whether or not Nature-0 most matchless might lie there to be looked at by the light of creature of thy kind !--gave thee, or gave thee the taper, till he himself, as the pains went not, the gift of an immortal soul! Better such away, might fall asleep! And we, the watchers creed-fond and foolish though it may be-yet by his bed-side, heard him in his dreams menscarcely unscriptural, for in each word of tioning the creature's name in his prayers. scripture there are many meanings, even when Yet at times-O Fro--thou wert a sad dog each sacred syllable is darkest to be read, indeed-neither to bind nor to hold—for thy better such creed than that of the atheist or blood was soon set a-boil, and thou-like Juskeptic, distracted ever in his seemingly sullen lius Cæsar-and Demetrius Poliorcetes-and apathy, by the dim, dark doom of dust. Better Alexander the Great and many other ancient that Fro should live, than that Newton should and modern kings and heroes--thou wert the die--for ever. What though the benevolent slave of thy passions. No Scipio wert thou Howard devoted his days to visit the dungeon's with a Spanish captive. Often--in spite of gloom, and by intercession with princes, to set threatening eye and uplifted thong--uplifted the prisoners free from the low damp-dripping only, for thou went'st unflogged to thy grave stone roof of the deep-dug cell beneath the didst thou disappear for days at a time--as if foundation rocks of the citadel, to the high lost or dead. Rumours of thee were brought dewdropping vault of heaven, too, too daz- to the kirk by shepherds from the remotest zlingly illumined by the lamp of the insufferable hills in the parish-most confused and contrasun! There reason triumphed-those were dictory--but, when collected and compared, the works of glorified humanity. But thou-| all agreeing in this that thou wert living, and a creature of mere instinct-according to life-like, and life-imparting, and after a season Descartes, a machine, an automaton--hadst from thy travels to return; and return thou still yet a constant light of thought and of affection didst-wearied often and wo-begone-purpled in thine eyes--nor wert thou without some thy snow-white curling-and thy broad breast flimmering and mysterious notions--and what I torn, not disfigured, by honourable wounds. For