Puslapio vaizdai
PDF
„ePub“

The

He was a favourite of two successive Scottish | great geological parties, the Huttonians and the monarchs, James III. and IV., two successive Wernerians-the facts it disclosed ultimately popes, Julius II. and Leo X., and of Louis XII. of yielding a complete triumph to the former. France. By those high personages he was loaded way from Fountainhall to Millknow being long with honours and benefices. Though opposed by and devious, we engaged a certain John Craig, powerful competitors, he was elevated to the first a butcher in Ormiston, well acquainted with these See in Scotland. He was likewise employed as hills, to be our guide. He and his pony were the an ambassador from the Court of Scotland to that very prototypes of Dandie Dinmont and his of France. Historians have given opposite por- Dumple. Our very scientific friend, Mr. Scott of traits of his character, of the real features of Ormiston, went with us to assist in our investigawhich it is difficult to form an opinion. Of the tions, and Lord Hopetoun's gardener, Mr. Smith, family of this distinguished individual, the only now at Hopetoun House, was also of the party, trace that is left is a small field, which, as if in being desirous to gather from us the botanical mockery of mortal ambition, still retains the name names of a number of plants which were strange of Foreman's Land." Mr. Philip Redpath, to him. Starting at midnight, and arriving at the author of the "Border History," was minister Millknow in the morning, we occupied the whole day of the parish here; and we must not omit to notice on the banks and in the bed of the river, we and Mr. another great man, though great in a different Scott being engaged in taking and comparing and sense-we mean Mr. Bookless, who was the naming the mineralogical specimens, whilst every parish schoolmaster, and whose stature was seven now and then Mr. Smith was coming to us with feet four inches. One of our companions in early a new plant, to obtain from us its scientific name. life had been placed under his tuition, and he As we were mounting our horses in the evening spoke of him as an amiable man of convivial to return home, and the gardener was assisthabits. He died whilst this gentleman was at ing honest John Craig to settle, and arrange a school with him, and so large was the coffin that couple of large game bags, full of minerals, upon contained his remains, that a portion of the wall his back, to which he submitted in silent patience, of the house was obliged to be broken up, so as for it must, in truth, have been but a dull day to to allow of its quitting the chamber, and it was him, seeing that he had wandered along the river lowered down by pulleys from the upper story to side without having the opportunity of opening the ground. There is something extremely whimsi- his mouth to any one of us, "Take care," said Mr. cal in the notion of the name of Bookless belong- Smith, "that you do not lose any of these ing to a schoolmaster; but, from all we have heard, minerals. Keep them as steady on your back as he really was an educated man; and there can be you can, so that they may not chafe one against no question that, if he was a literary work, he the other, and see that you do not lose or break must have been considered by your book collec- any of those plants in this botanical box." "Ou, tors as a splendidly tall copy. never ye fear," replied John, "I'll tak' gude care o' them a'; but de'il hae me an' I ever heard sae mony kittle names gi'en to weeds and stanes as I have heard this blessed day."

A very handsome suspension bridge, executed by Captain Samuel Brown of the Royal Navy, here connects England with Scotland, and at some distance below, the Tweed receives the Whitadder as its tributary from the left bank.

The Whitadder, though perhaps not one of the largest of the tributaries of the Tweed, is extremely important in many points of view. A glance at the map of Berwickshire will show that it and its subtributary, the Blackadder, and their various smaller streams of supply, water the whole country. Were we to go very particularly into the description of the objects and places within a short distance of their waters, we should have to describe the whole of that rich agricultural shire. We shall, however, endeavour to be as particular as circumstances will admit of, and we shall adopt the same order of description that we have used in giving our account of all the other rivers, and according to this plan we shall begin with the Whitadder at its source. Mr. Stoddart tells us that the Whitadder takes its rise at Johnscleugh, in the county of Haddington, at an elevation of eleven hundred and fifty feet above the level of the sea. After running three miles, it is joined by the Fasteney water at Millknow. In the days of our scientific furor we remember making an excursion hither to visit and examine the bed of this Fasteney water, which was to a certain extent a champ de bataille to the two

Mr. Chambers gives us some interesting information with regard to the antiquities of this part of the country. He informs us that there was here a string of no less than six castles, all placed at certain distances from each other, i. e. John's Cleugh, Gamelshiel, Painshiel, Redpath, Harehead, and Cranshaws. These seem to have been intended as a cordon of defence to resist incursions from the south into the Lothians; and, indeed, we shall find that all the warlike remains that we shall afterwards meet with in these hills, hold positions which lead to the supposition that they were placed there, though at very different periods, yet all with the same object. Mr. Chambers is perfectly right in his supposition, that the whole of this district of hills was covered with wood in the early ages, and filled with the wild animals of chase of all descriptions. He gives us a very interesting legend in regard to the lady of Gamelshiel Castle, the ruins of which stand near the farm of Millknow, and this we shall take the liberty of extracting in his own words. "She was one evening taking a walk at a little distance below the house, when a wolf sprung from the wood, and, in the language of the simple peasants who tell the The husband far-descended story, worried her. buried her mangled corpse in the corner of the

court-yard; and ever after, till death sent him to rejoin her in another world, sat at his chamber window, looking through his tears over her grave -his soul as dark as the forest shades around him, and his voice as mournful as their autumn music. This castle was one of a chain which guarded the pass between Dunse and Haddington; a natural opening across the hills, formed by the course of the Whitadder, near the head of which stream it was situated. Two tall, spiky, pillar-like remains of the tower are yet to be seen by the travellers passing along this unfrequented road, far up the dreary hope; and a flat stone, covering the grave of the unfortunate lady, yet exists, to attest the verity of a story so finely illustrative of the aboriginal condition of this country."

The Fasteney is a fine sparkling mountain stream. Soon after the union of the Fasteney water with the Whitadder, it receives the small river Dye. In the adjacent parish of Cranshaws stands the fine old Scottish mansion of Cranshaws Castle, now belonging to Lady Aberdour, of which the "Statistical Account" speaks as follows:" It is an oblong square of forty feet by twenty-four. The walls are forty-five feet high. The battlement on the top is modern, otherwise the date of the building might have been pretty nearly ascertained, as the water conduits are in the form of cannon. Before the union of the two kingdoms, it had been used by the inhabitants on this side of the parish as a place of refuge from the English borderers, as the old Castle of Scarlow (of which very little now remains) had probably been by the inhabitants of the other division." This castle has been richly gifted by having the superstition attached to it of its being under the protection of a brownie, one of those rude but benevolent spirits who laboured for the comfort of the family to which it attached itself, which Milton describes so well in these lines :

"Tells how the drudging goblin sweat
To earn his cream bowl, duly set;
When in one night, ere glimpse of morn,
His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn
That ten day-lab'rers could not end;
Then lies him down, the lubber fiend,
And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length,
Basks at the fire his hairy strength;
And crop-full out of doors he flings,

Ere the first cock his matin rings."

Our friend, Mr. Robert Chambers, tells us that the brownie of Cranshaws was as industrious as could well be desired, insomuch that, at least, the cornsman's office became a perfect sinecure. The brownie both inned the corn and threshed it, and that for several successive seasons. It at length happened, one harvest, that after he had brought the whole victual into the barn, some one remarked that he had not mowed it very well, that is, not piled it up neatly at the end of the barn; whereupon the spirit took such offence that he threw the whole of it next night over the Raven Craig, a precipice about two miles off, and the people of the farm had almost the trouble of a second harvest in gathering it up. The highest land in this neighbourhood is called Manslaughter-Law, a name which it has

received from a great battle having been fought here, as is proved by the numerous swords and other warlike instruments that have been dug up upon the spot. This is supposed to have been that battle which was fought between the Earl of Dunbar and Hepburn of Hailes, in 1402 Some of the Lammermuir hills in the neighbour. hood of this part of the Whitadder are of con siderable elevation. Meikle Cese, or Sayr's Law, is 1500 feet high; and there is also a hill called the Great Dirrington Law, 1145 feet high. At Byrecleugh, on the Dye water, there is a curious accumulation of stones, called the "Mutiny Stones." It measures 240 feet long, of irregular breadth and height, but where broadest and highest, seventy-five feet broad and eighteen feet high. The stones appear to have be brought from a crag half a mile distant. It is difficult to conjecture for what purpose them stones were thrown together. The river Whi adder becomes of some consequence when it ap proaches Abbey St. Bathans, its breadth being upwards of eighty feet, and it winds its way through beautiful haughs. It is melancholy to think that the interesting ruin of the priory si Cistercian nuns which ornamented its left bank has entirely disappeared, from the ignorance of the people, who have carried off the materials is various purposes. There is a very excellent de scription of these ruins, including that of the church, in the Statistical Account of the Parish of Abbey St. Bathans.

Some of the scenery in this retired part of the Whitadder, although simple in its features, appears to be particularly beautiful. Along each side of the river a fertile haugh stretches for ap wards of a quarter of a mile, beyond which the hills that wall in the valley rise on all sides with considerable steepness. The ground on the north side of the vale rises abruptly from the haugh, and presents a bank finely covered with natural wood. The slope which forms the south side of the vale is cultivated to a considerable height, and portions of it are planted with larch and Scotch fir, intermingled with the elm, the oak, and the ash; but still rising higher as it recedes, at last presents nothing but its natural covering of heath. At each end of the valley, where it receives and transmits the Whitadder, there opens a beautiful dell from north-westward, with its appropriate brook. The farm-house and steading of Abbey St. Bathans, with its adjoining smithy, a neat cottage, a conmill, the decent parish church, the mausewhich, topping a little eminence, is embosomed among trees-and the school-house, present a group of simple but pleasing features. The is terest awakened by these objects is, at the same time, heightened by the natural scenery amids which they occur. Let us conceive all this glowing under the effect of a bright sunshine, the heat of which has driven the cattle from the meadow into the pools of the river, whilst the perfect stillness of the lassitude of nature reigns over everything, and when even the angler finds his occupation too great an exertion, and we shall have a picture which it might have delighted Cuyp to have painted.

PROTESTANTISM.

BY THOMAS DE QUINCEY.

(Continued from page 765.)

2. All writing is inspired by God, and profit. able, &c. (which makes theopneustos part of the predicate.)

66

SUCH is Phil.'s way of explaining toysuria 1. All writing inspired by God (i. e., being in(theopneustia), or divine prompting, so as to re-spired by God, supposing it inspired, which coneile the doctrine affirming a virtual inspira- makes theopneustos part of the subject) is also tion, an inspiration as to the truths revealed, with profitable for teaching, &c. a peremptory denial of any inspiration at all, as to the mere verbal vehicle of those revelations. He is evidently as sincere in regard to the inspiration which he upholds as in regard to that which he denies. Phil. is honest, and Phil. is able. Now comes my turn. I rise to support my leader, and shall attempt to wrench this notion of a verbal inspiration from the hands of its champions by a reductio ad absurdum, viz., by showing the monstrous consequences to which it leads-which form of logic Phil, also has employed briefly in the last paragraph of last month's paper; but mine is different and more elaborate. Yet, first of all, let me frankly confess to the reader, that some people allege a point-blank assertion by Scripture itself of its own verbal inspiration; which assertion, if it really had any existence, would summarily put down all cavils of human dialectics. That makes it necessary to review this assertion. This famous passage of Scripture, this locus classicus, or prerogative text, pleaded for the verbatim et literatim inspiration of the Bible, is the following; and I will so exhibit its very words as that the reader, even if no Grecian, may understand the point in litigation. The passage is this: Hara ygaon VivoTos xas wQediμos, &c., taken from St. Paul (2 Tim. iii. 16.) Let us construe it literally, expressing the Greek by Latin characters: Pasa graphé, all written lore (or, every writing)—theopneustos, God-breathed, or, God-prompted-kai, and (or, also)—ophelimos, serviceable-pros, towards, did askalian, doctrinal truth. Now this sentence, when thus rendered into English according to the rigour of the Grecian letter, wants something to complete its sense-it wants an is. There is a subject, as the logicians say, and there is a predicate (or, something affirmed of that subject), but there is no copula to connect them-we miss the is. This omission is common in Greek, but cannot be allowed in English. The is must be supplied; but where must it be supplied? That's the very question, for there is a choice between two places; and, according to the choice, will the word theopneustos become part of the subject, or part of the predicate; which will make a world of difference. Let us try it both ways:—

[ocr errors]

Oloxytvoriα.”—I must point out to Phil, an oversight of his as to this word at p. 45; he there describes the doctrine of theopneustia as being that of "plenary and verbal inspiration." But this he cannot mean, for obviously this word theopneustia comprehends equally the verbal inspiration which he is denouncing, and the inspiration of power or spiritual virtue which he is substituting. Neither Phil., nor any one of his school, is to be understood as rejecting theopneustia, but as rejecting that particular mode of theopneustia which appeals to the eye by mouldering symbols, in favour of that other mode which appeals to the heart by incorruptible radiations of inner truth,

[ocr errors]

Now, in this last way of construing the text, which is the way adopted by our authorised version, one objection strikes everybody at a glance, viz., that St. Paul could not possibly mean to say of all writing, indiscriminately, that it was divinely inspired, this being so revoltingly opposed to the truth. It follows, therefore, that, on this way of interpolating the is, we must understand the Apostle to use the word graphé, writing, in a restricted sense, not for writing generally, but for sacred writing, or (as our English phrase runs) "Holy Writ;" upon which will arise three separate demurs-first, one already stated by Phil., viz., that, when graphé is used in this sense, it is accompanied by the article; the phrase is eitherygaon, "the writing," or else (as in St. Luke) às yeapai, "the writings," just as in English it is said, the Scripture," or "the Scriptures." Secondly, that, according to the Greek usage, this would not be the natural place for introducing the is. Thirdly—which disarms the whole objection from this text, howsoever construed that, after all, it leaves the dispute with the bibliolaters wholly untouched. We also, the anti-bibliolaters, say that all Scripture is inspired, though we may not therefore suppose the Apostle to be here insisting on that doctrine. he is or not, in relation to this dispute. Both parties are contending for the inspiration-so far they are agreed; the question between them arises upon quite another point, viz., as to the mode of that inspiration, whether incarnating its golden light in the corruptibilities of perishing syllables, or in the sanctities of indefeasible, word-transcending ideas. Now, upon that question, the apostolic words, torture them how you please, say nothing at all.

But no matter whether

There is, then, no such dogma (or, to speak Germanicè, no such macht-spruch) in behalf of verbal inspiration as has been ascribed to St. Paul, and I pass to my own argument against it. This argument turns upon the self-confounding tendency of the common form ascribed to Dionvia, or divine inspiration. When translated from its true and lofty sense of an inspirationbrooding, with outstretched wings, over the mighty abyss of secret truth-to the vulgar sense of an inspiration, burrowing, like a rabbit or a worm, in grammatical quillets and syllables, mark how it comes down to nothing at all; mark how a stream, pretending to derive itself from a heavenly fountain, is finally lost and confounded in a morass of human perplexities.

First of all, at starting, we have the inspiration (No. 1) to the original composers of the sacred books. That I grant, though distinguishing as to its nature.

as perhaps you know, about six score years ago, another Phil., not the same as this Phil, now before us (who would be quite vexed if you fancied him as old as all that comes to oh dear, no. he's not near as old)—well, that earlier PAJ. was Bentley, who wrote (under the name of Phi

Next, we want another inspiration (No. 2) for the countless translators of the Bible. Of what use is it to a German, to a Swiss, or to a Scots-leleutheros Lipsiansis) a pamphlet connected with man, that, three thousand years before the Reformation, the author of the Pentateuch was kept from erring by a divine restraint over his words, if the authors of this Reformation-Luther, suppose, Zwingle, John Knox-either making translations themselves, or relying upon translations made by others under no such verbal restraint, have been left free to bias his mind, pretty nearly as much as if the original Hebrew writer had been resigned to his own human discretion?

this very subject, partly against an English infidel of that day. In that pamphlet, Phil. the first pauses to consider and value this very objec tion from textual variation to the validity of Scripture; for the infidel (as is usual with inidels) being no great scholar, had argued s though it were impossible to urge anything what ever for the word of God, since so vast a variety in the readings rendered it impossible to know what was the word of God. Bentley, though rather rough, from having too often to deal with

Thirdly, even if we adopt the inspiration, No. 2, that will not avail us; because many diffe-shallow coxcombs, was really and unaffectedly a rent translators exist. Does the very earliest translation of the Law and the Prophets, viz., the Greek translation of the Septuagint, always agree verbally with the Hebrew? Or the Samaritan Pentateuch always with the Hebrew? Or do the earliest Latin versions of the entire Bible agree verbally with modern Latin versions? Jerome's Latin version, for instance, memorable as being that adopted by the Romish Church, and known under the name of the Vulgate, does it agree verbally with the Latin versions of the Bible or parts of the Bible made since the Reformation? In the English, again, if we begin with the translation still sleeping in MS., made five centuries ago, and passing from that to the first printed translation (which was, I think, Coverdale's, in 1535), if we thence travel down to our own day, so as to include all that have confined themselves to separate versions of some one book, or even of some one cardinal text, the versions that differ—and to the idolater of words all differences are important-may be described as countless. Here, then, on that doctrine of inspiration which ascribes so much to the power of verbal accuracy, we shall want a fourth inspiration, No. 4, for the guidance of each separate Christian applying himself to the Scriptures in his mother tongue; he will have to select not one (where is the one that has been uniformly correct?) but a multitude; else the same error will again rush in by torrents through the license of interpretation assumed by these many adverse translators.

Fourthly, as these differences of version arise often under the same reading of, the original text; but as, in the meantime, there are many different readings, here a fifth source of possible error calls for a fifth inspiration overruling us to the proper choice amongst various readings. What may be called a "textual" inspiration for selecting the right reading is requisite for the very same reason, neither more nor less, which supposes any verbal inspiration originally requisite for constituting a right reading. It matters not in which stage of the Bible's progress the error commences; first stage and last stage are all alike in the sight of God. There was, reader,

pious man. He was shocked at this argument, and set himself seriously to consider it. Now, as all the various readings were Greek, and as Bertley happened to be the first of Grecians, his deliberate review of this argument is entitled t great attention. There were, at that moment when Bentley spoke, something more (as I recol lect) than ten thousand varieties of reading in the text of the New Testament; so many had been collected in the early part of Queen Anne's reign by Wetstein, the Dutchman, who was then st the head of the collators. Mill, the Englishman, was at that very time making further collations. How many he added, I cannot tell without consulting books-a thing which I very seldom do. But since that day, and long after Bentley and Mill were in their graves, Griesbach, the German, has risen to the top of the tree, by towering abor them all in the accuracy of his collations. Yet, as the harvest comes before the gleanings, we may be sure that Wetstein's barn housed the very wealth of all this variety. Of this it was, thơm, that Bentley spoke. And what was it that be spoke? Why, he, the great scholar, pronounced, as with the authority of a Chancery decree, that the vast majority of various readings made 19 difference at all in the sense. In the sense, ob serve; but many things might make a difference in the sense which would still leave the doctrine undisturbed. For instance, in the passage abut a camel going through the eye of a needle, it wil make a difference in the sense, whether you read in the Greek word for camel the oriental animal of that name, or a ship's cable; but m difference at all arises in the spiritual doctrine. Or, illustrating the case out of Shakspeare, it makes no difference as to the result, whether you read in Hamlet" to take arms against a sea of troubles," or (as has been suggested), “against a siege of troubles;" but it makes a difference as to the integrity of the image.*

What has a sea to

*Integrity of the metaphor."-One of the best notes ever written by Warburton was in justification of the old reading, sea. It was true, that against a sea it would be idle to take arms. We, that have lived since Warburton's ton (which, it is to be hoped, none of us will ever forget day, have learned by the solemn example of Mrs. Parting how useless, how vain it is to take up a mop against the

do with arms? What has a camel,* the quadru- | to tell men in the seventeenth century, as a bibliped, to do with a needle? A prodigious mino- cal rule, that they positively must commit adulrity, therefore, there is of such various readings tery!" The brother compositors of this drunken as slightly affect the sense; but this minority be- biblical reviser, being too honourable to betray comes next to nothing, when we inquire for such the individual delinquent, the Star Chamber as affect any doctrine. This was Bentley's opi- fined the whole "chapel." Now, the copyists of nion upon the possible disturbance offered to the MSS. were as certain to be sometimes drunk as Christian by various readings in the New Testa- this compositor-famous by his act-utterly for ment. You thought that the carelessness, or, gotten in his person-whose crime is remembered at times, even the treachery of men, through the record of whose name has perished. We so many centuries, must have ended in corrupt- therefore hold, that it never was in the power, ing the original truth; yet, after all, you see or placed within the discretion, of any copyist, the light burns as brightly and steadily as ever. whether writer or printer, to injure the sacred We, now, that are not bibliolatrists, no more be- oracles. But the bibliolatrist cannot say that; leve that, from the disturbance of a few words because, if he does, then he is formally unsaying here or there, any evangelical truth can have the very principle which is meant by bibliolatry. suffered a wound or mutilation, than we believe He therefore must require another supplementhat the burning of a wood, or even of a forest, tary inspiration, viz., No. 4, to direct him in his which happens in our vast American possessions, choice of the true reading amongst so many as sometimes from natural causes (lightning, or continually offer themselves.* spontaneous combustion), sometimes from an Indian's carelessness, can seriously have injured botany. But for him, who conceives an inviolable sanctity to have settled upon each word and particle of the original record, there should have been strictly required an inspiration (No. 5) to prevent the possibility of various readings arising. It is too late, however, to pray for that; the various readings have arisen; here they are; and what's to be done now? The only resource for the bibliolatrist is-to invoke a new inspiration (No. 4) for helping him out of his difficulty, by guiding his choice. We, anti-bibliolaters, are not so foolish as to believe that God having once sent a deep message of truth to man, would suffer it to lie at the mercy of a careless or a wicked copyist. Treasures so vast would not be left at the mercy of accidents so vile. Very little more than two hundred years ago, a London compositor, not wicked at all, but simply drunk, in printing Deuteronomy, left out the most critical of words; the seventh commandment he exhibited thus—“Thou shalt commit adultery;" in which form the sheet was struck off. And though in those days no practical mischief could arise from this singular erratum, which English Griesbachs will hardly enter upon the roll of various readings, yet, harmless as it was, it met with punish"Scandalous!" said Laud, "shocking!

ment.

Atlantic ocean. Great is the mop, great is Mrs Partington, but greater is the Atlantic. Yet, though all arms must be idle against the sea considered literally, and XATα TηY QAYTIC under that image, Warburton contended justly that all images, much employed, evanesce into the ideas which they represent. A sea of troubles comes to mean only a multitude of troubles. No image of the sea is suggested; and arms, incongruous in relation to the literal sea, is not so in relation to a multitude; besides, that the image arms itself, evanesces for the same reason into resistance. For this one note, which I cite from boyish remembrance, I have always admired the subtlety of Warburton.

Meantime, though using this case as an illustration, I believe that camel is, after all, the true translation; first, on account of the undoubted proverb in the east about the elephant going through the neddle's eye; the relation is that of contrast as to magnitude; and the same relation holds as to the camel and the needle's eye: secondly, because the proper word for a cable, it has been alleged, is not "camelus," but "camilus."

Fifthly, as all words cover ideas, and many a word covers a choice of ideas, and very many ideas split into a variety of modifications, we shall, even after a fourth inspiration has qualified us for selecting the true reading, still be at a loss how, upon this right reading, to fix the right acceptation. So there, at that fifth stage, in rushes the total deluge of human theological controversies. One church, or one sect, insists upon one another, and another, "to the end of time," insists upon a different sense. Babel is upon us; and, to get rid of Babel, we shall need a fifth inspiration. No. 5 is clamorously called for.†

sense;

[ocr errors]

* I recollect no variation in the text of Scripture which makes any startling change, even to the amount of an eddy in its own circumjacent waters, except that famous passage about the three witnesses-" There are three that bear record in heaven," &c. This has been denounced with perfect fury as an interpolation; and it is impossible to sum up the quart bottles of ink, black and blue, that have been shed in the dreadful skirmish. Porson even, the all-accomplished Grecian, in his letters to Archdeacon Travis, took a conspicuous part in the controversy; his wish was, that men should think of him as a second Bentley tilting against Phalaris; and he stung like a hornet. To be a Cambridge man in those days was to be a hater of hated alike. I hope the same thing may not be true at preall Establishments in England; things and persons were sent. It may chance that on this subject Master Porson will get stung through his coffin, before he is many years waters just around itself (for it would desolate a Popish deader. However, if this particular variation troubles the village to withdraw its local saint), yet carrying one's eye from this Epistle to the whole domains of the New Testament-yet, looking away from that defrauded village to universal Christendom, we must exclaim-What does one miss? Surely Christendom is not disturbed because a village suffers wrong: the sea is not roused because an eddy in a corner is boiling; the doctrine of the Trinity is not in danger because Mr. Porson is in a passion.

+ One does not wish to be tedious; or, if one has a gift in that way, naturally one does not wish to bestow it all upon a perfect stranger, as "the reader" usually is, but to reserve a part for the fireside, and the use of one's most beloved friends; else I could torment the reader by a longer succession of numbers, and perhaps drive him to despair. But one more of the series, viz., No. 6, as a parting gage d'amitié, he must positively permit me to drop into his pocket. Supposing, then, that No. 5 were surmounted, and that, supernaturally, you knew the value to a hair's breadth of every separate word (or, perhaps, composite phrase made up from a constellation of words)-ah, poor traveller in trackless forests, still you are lost againfor, oftentimes, and especially in St. Paul, the words may

« AnkstesnisTęsti »