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Talboys. At eight?

that man's—but in such case, his fowl would Norti. Seven. Archy, follow him—In be found just so many ounces lighter. And that state of excitement he will be walking so on. The Puddings are cast in the same with his spectacles on over some precipice. mould—and the things equal to the same Keep your eye on him, Archy

thing, are equal to one another. Archy. I can pretend to be carrying the Talboys. The weight of each repast ? landing-net, sir.

North. Calculated at twenty-five pounds. North. There's a specimen of a Scottish Talboys. Grand total, one hundred. The Lawyer, gentlemen. What do you think of golden mean, him?

North. From these general views, to deBULLER. That he is without exception the scend to particulars. Soup (turtle) two most agreeable fellow, at first sight, I ever pounds—Hotch, ditto-Fish (Trout) two met in my life.

pounds-Flesh (Jigot-black face five year North. And so you would continue to old,) six pounds-Fowl (Howtowdie boiled) think him, were you to see him twice a week five pounds—Duck (wild) three poundsfor twenty years. But he is far more than that Tart (gooseberry) one pound-Pud (Vario—though, as the world goes, that is much: his rum Edition) two pounds. mind is steel to the back-bone-his heart is BULLER. That is but twenty-three, sir ! sound as his lungs—his talents great—in I have taken down the gentleman's words. literature, had he liked it, he might have ex- North. Polite—and grateful. But you celled ; but he has wisely chosen a better have omitted sauces and creams, breads and Profession—and his character now stands cheeses. Did you ever know me incorrect high as a Lawyer and Judge. Yonder he in my figures, in any affirmation or denial, goes! As fresh as a kitten after a score and private or public ? three quarter miles at the least.

Buller. Never. Beg pardon. BULLER. Seward-let's after him. Billy North. Now that the soups and fishes -the minnows.

seem disposed of, I boldly ask you, one and Billy. Here's the Can, sirs.

all, gentlemen, if you ever beheld Four more Scene closes.

tempting Jigots?

Talboys. I am still at my fish. No fish

so sweet as of one's own catching—so I have SCENE II.-Interior of Deeside. TIME_7

the advantage of you all. This one hereP. M. North—TALBOYS—BULLER-SEW

the one I am eating at this blessed moment -I killed in what the man with the Landing

net called the Birk Pool. I know him by North. Seward, face Buller. Talboys, his peculiar physiognomy-an odd cast in face North. Fall to, gentlemen; to-day we his eye—which has not left him on the griddispense with regular service. Each man iron. That Trout of my killing on your has his own distinct dinner before him, or in plate, Mr. Seward, made the fatal plunge at the immediate vicinity—soup, fish, flesh, the tail of the stream so overhung with fowl-and with all necessary accompaniments Alders that you can take it successfully only and sequences. How do you like the ar- by the tail--and I know him by his color, rangement of the table, Talboys ?

almost as silvery as a whitling. Yours Mr. TalBoys The principle shows a profound Buller, was the third I killed—just where knowledge of human nature, sir. In theory, | the river—for a river he is to-day, whatever self-love and social are the same—but in he may be to-morrow-goes whirling into practice, self-love looks to your own plate- the Loch—and I can swear to him from his social to your neighbors. By this felicitous leopard spots. Illustrious sir, of him whom multiplication of dinners—this One in Four you have now disposed of-the finest of the —this Four in One—the harmony of the Four—I remember saying inwardly, as with moral system is preserved-and all works difficulty I encreeled him—for his shoulders together for the general good. Looked at were like a hog's—this for the King. artistically, we have here what the Germans NORTH. Your perfect Pounder, Talboys, and others say is essential to the beautiful is the beau-ideal of a Scottish Trout. How and the sublime-Unity.

he cuts up! If much heavier-you are frusNorth. I believe the Four Dinners—if trated in your attempts to eat him thoroughweighed separately-would be found not to ly-have to search-probably in vain--for differ by a pound. This man's fish might what in a perfect Pounder lies patent to prove in the scale a few ounces heavier than the day-he is to back-bone comeatable

ARD,

- from gill to fork. Seward, you are an art, three years I practised on the carpet-for ist. Good creel ?

three years I essayed on a pond—for three SEWARD. I gave Mr. Talboys the first of I strove by the running waters—and still the the water, and followed him-a mere caprice Image of Christopher North was before me --with the Archimedean Minnow. I had a -till emboldened by conscious acquisition run—but just as the monster opened his and constant success, I came forth and took jaws to absorb—he suddenly eschewed the my place among the anglers of my country. scentless phenomenon, and with a sullen BULLER. To-day I saw you fast in a tree. plunge, sunk into the deep.

Talboys. You mean my Fly. BULLER. I tried the natural minnow after BULLER. First your Fly, and then, I think, Seward—but I wished Archimedes at Syra- yourself. cuse—for the Screw had spread a panic- TALBOYS. I have seen Il Maestro himself and in a panic the scaly people lose all power in Timber, and in brushwood too. From of discrimination, and fear to touch a minnow, him I learned to disentangle knots, intricate lest it turn up a bit of tin or some other pre- and perplexed far beyond the Gordiancious metal.

“ with frizzled hair implicit”—round twig, NORTH. I have often been lost in conjec- branch, or bole. Not more than half-a-dozen turing how you always manage to fill your times of the forty that I may have been fast creel, Talboys; for the truth is—and it must aloft-I speak mainly of my novitiate-have be spoken-you are no angler.

I had to effect liberation by sacrifice. TALBOYS. I can afford to smile! I was no SEWARD. Pardon me, Mr. Talboys, for angler, sir, ten years ago—now I am. But hinting that you

smacked off your tail-fly tohow did I become one? By attending you, day-I knew it by the sound. sir—for seven seasons—along the Tweed and Talboys. The sound! No trusting to an the Yarrow, the Clyde and the Daer, the uncertain sound, Mr. Seward. Oh! I did so Tay and the Tummel, the Don and the Dee once—but intentionally—the look had lost -and treasuring up lessons from the Great the barb—not a fish would it hold—so I Master of the Art.

whipped it off, and on with a Professor. North. You surprise me! Why, you BULLER, You lost one good fish in rather never put a single question to me about the an awkward manner, Mr. Talboys. art—always declined taking rod in hand- Talboys. I did—that metal minnow of seemed reading some book or other, held yours came with a splash within an inch of close to your eyes—or lying on banks a-dose bis nose—and no wonder he broke me—nay, or poetizing—or facetious with the Old Man I believe it was the minnow that broke me

or with the Old Man serious—and some- and yet you can speak of my losing a good times more than serious, as, sauntering along fish in rather an awkward manner ! our winding way, we conversed of man, of North. It is melancholy to think that I nature, and of human life.

have taught Young Scotland to excel myself TalBoys. I never lost a single word you in all the Arts that adorn and dignify life. said, sir, during those days, breathing in Till I rose, Scotland was a barbarous counevery sense "vernal delight and joy," yet tryall the while I was taking lessons in the art. Talboys. Do say, my dear sir, semi-civilThe flexure of

your
shoulder—the sweep

of | ized. your arm—the twist of your wrist-your North. Now it heads the Nations—and I Delivery, and your Recover—that union of may set. grace

and

power—the utmost delicacy, with Talboys. And why should that be a melthe most perfect precision-All these quali ancholy thought, sir? ties of a Heaven-born Angler, by which North. Oh, Talboys—National Ingratiyou might be known from all other men tude! They are fast forgetting the man who on the banks of the Whittadder on a Fast- made them what they are—in a few fleeting day

centuries the name of Christopher North will NORTH. I never angled on a fast-day. be in oblivion! Would you believe it possi

Talboys. A lapsus linguaFrom a hun ble, gentlemen, that even now, there are dred anglers on the Daer, on the Queen's Scotsmen who never heard of the Fly that Birth-day

bears the name of me, its Inventor-Killing North. My dear Friend, you ex

Kit! TalBoys. All those qualities of a Heaven- BULLER. In Cornwall it is a household born Angler I learned first to admire—then word. to understand and then to imitate. For SEWARD. And in all the Devons. VOL. XVIIL NO. I

6

Buller. Men in Scotland who never heard our not ancient friendship—for I feel that a the name of North !

few hours on Lochawe-side give the privilege North. Christopher North—who is he? of years—in suggesting that you will have Who do you mean by the Man of the Crutch? | the goodness to use the metal nut-crackers;

- The Knight of the Knout? Better never they are more euphonious than ivory with to have been born than thus to be virtually walnuts. dead.

North. In the second place—let me conSEWARD. Sir, be comforted—you are un- sider-Mr. Talboys-I should say-in the der a delusion—Britain is ringing with your second place-yes, I have it—a Character of name.

Art expressing itself by words: a mode-a North. Not that I care for noisy fame- mode of Poetry and Eloquence-Fitness AND but I do dearly love the still.

BEAUTY. Talboys. And you have it, sir—enjoy it TalBoys. Thank you, sir. Fitness and and be thankful.

Beauty. Anything more? North. But it may be too still.

North. Much more. We think of the Talboys. My dear sir, what would you Greeks and Romans, sir, as those in whom have ?

the Human Mind reached Superhuman PowNorth. I taught you, Talboys, to play er. Chess—and now you trumpet Staunton. TalBoys. Superhuman ?

Talboys. Chess—where's the board ? Let North. We think so--comparing ourselves us have a game.

with them, we cannot help it. In the HelNorth. Drafts—and you quote Anderson lenic Wit, we suppose Genius and Taste met and the Shepherd Laddie.

at their height--the Inspiration Omnipotent Talboys. Mr. North, why so querulous ? —the Instinct unerring! The creations of North. Where was the Art of Criticism? Greek Poetry !--Ilomois—a Making! There Where Prose? Young Scotland owes all the soul seems to be free from its chainsher Composition to me-buries me in the happily self-lawed. “The Earth we pace" earth—and then claims inspiration from is there peopled with divine forms. SculpHeaven. “How sharper than a Serpent's ture was the human Form glorified-deified. tooth it is to have a thankless Child.” Peter And as in marble, so in Song. Something -Peterkin—Pym-Stretch—where are your common-terrestrial-adheres to our being, lazinesses—clear decks.

and weighs us down. They—the Hellenes “ Away with Melancholy

appear to us to have really walked—as we

walk in our visions of exaltation—as if the Nor doleful changes ring On Life and human Folly,

Graces and the Muses held sway over daily But merrily, merrily sing-fal la !" and hourly existence, and not alone over

work of Art and solemn occasion. No moral Buller. What a sweet pipe! A single stain or imperfection can hinder them from snatch of an old

song
from

appearing to us as the Light of human kind. North. Why are you glowering at me, Singular, that in Greece we reconcile ourTalboys ?

selves to Heathenism. Talboys. It has come into my head, I Talboys. It

may

be that we are all Heaknow not how, to ask you a question. thens at heart.

North. Let it be an easy one—for I am NORTH. The enthusiast adores Greecelanguid.

not knowing that Greece monarchizes over Talboys. Pray, sir, what is the precise him, only because it is a miraculous mirror signification of the word “ Classical ?"**

that resplendently and more beautifully reNorth. My dear Talboys, you seem to flects--himselfthink that I have the power of answering, off-hand, any and every question a first-rate

Divisque videbit fellow chooses to ask me. Classical-clas- Permixtos Heroas, et Ipse videbitur illis." sical! Why, I should say, in the first placeOne and one other Mighty People - Those, SEWARD. Very fine. the Kings of Thought These, the Kings of NORTH. O life of old, and long, long ago! the Earth.

In the meek, solemn, soul-stilling hush of Talboys. The Greeks—and Romans. Academic Bowers ! North. In the second place

SEWARD. The Isis ! Talboys. Attend-do attend, gentlemen. North. My youth returns. Come, spirits And I hope I am not too much presuming on of the world that has been! Throw open

you, sir

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the valvules of these your shrines, in which way and wise, apart from human mortals ! you stand around me, niched side by side, in Ye! tall, thick Volumes, that are each a visible presence, in this cathedral-like library! treasure-house of austere or blazing thoughts, I read Historian, Poet, Orator, Voyager--a which of you shall I touch with sensitive life that slid silently away in shades, or that fingers, of which violate the calmy austere bounded like a bark over the billows. I lift repose ? I dread what I desire. You may up the curtain of all ages--I stand under all disturb—you may destroy me! Knowledge skies--on the Capitol--on the Acropolis. pulsates in me, as I receive it, communing Like that magician whose spirit, with a magi- with myself on my unquiet or tearful pillow cal word, could leave his own bosom to in- -or as it visits me, brought on the streaming habit another, I take upon myself every mode moonlight, or from the fields afire with noonof existence. I read Thucydides, and I would splendor, or looking at me from human eyes, be a Historian-Demosthenes, and I would and stirring round and around me in the tube an orator-Homer, and I dread to believe mult of men-Your knowledge comes in a myself called to be, in some shape or other, holy stillness and chillness, as if spelt off a servant of the Muse. Heroes and Hermits tombstones. of Thought--Seers of the Invisible-Prophets SEWARD. Magdalen College Library, I do of the Ineffable--Hierophants of profitable believe. Mr. North-Mr. North-awakemysteries--Oracles of the Nations-Lumi- awake—here we are all in Deeside. naries of that spiritual Heaven! I bid ye NORTH. Ay--ay--you say well, Seward. hail !

“ Look at the studies of the Great Scholar, BULLER. The fit is on him-he has not the and see from how many quarters of the mind slightest idea that he is in Deeside.

impulses may mingle to compose the moNORTH. Ay—from the beginning a part of tives that bear him on with indefatigable the race have separated themselves from the strength in his laborious career.” dusty, and the dust-devoured, turmoil of SEWARD. These were not my very words, Action to Contemplation. Have thought, sirknown-worshipped! And such knowledge NORTH. Ay, Seward, you say well. From Books keep. Books now crumbling like how many indeed! First among the prime, Towers and Pyramids—now outlasting them that peculiar aptitude and faculty, which Books that from age to age, and all the sec- may be called--a taste and Genius fortions of mankind helping, build up the pile of Words. Knowledge—a trophied Citadel. He who BULLER. I rather failed there in the can read books as they should be read, pe- Schools. ruses the operation of the Creator in his North. Yet you were in the First Class. conscious, and in his unconscious Works, There is implied in it, Seward, a readiness of which yet we call upon to join, as if con- logical discrimination in the Understanding, scious, in our worship. Yet why-oh! why which apprehends the propriety of Words. all this pains to attain that, through the labor BULLER. I got up my Logic passably and a of ages, which in the dewy, sunny prime of little more. morn, one thrill of transport gives to me and NORTH. For, Seward, the Thoughts, the to the Lark alike, summoning, lifting both Notions themselves—must be distinctly disheavenwards ? Ah! perchance because the severed in the mind, which shall exactly apdewy, sunny prime does not last through the ply to each Thought-Notion-its approday! Because light poured into the eyes, priate sign, its own Word. and sweet breath inhaled, are not the whole BULLER. You might as well have said of man's life here below—and because there “ Buller”—for I beat Seward in my Logic. is an Hereafter!

North. But even to this task, Seward, of SEWARD. I know where he is, Buller. He rightly distinguishing the meaning of Words, called it well a Cathedral-like Library. more than a mere precision of thinking

North. The breath of departed years more than a clearness and strictness of the floats here for my respiration. The pure intellectual action is requisite. air of heaven flows round about, but enters BULLER. And in Classics we were equal. not. The sunbeams glide in, bedimmed as NORTH. You will be convinced of this, if in some haunt half-separated from Life, Buller, if you recollect what Words express. yet on our side of Death. Recess, hardly The mind itself. For all its affections and accessible-profound—of which I, the sole sensibilities, Talboys, furnish a whole host of in mate, held under an uncomprehended re- meanings, which must have names in Lanstraint, breathe, move, and follow my own guage. For mankind do not rest from en

riching and refining their languages, until SEWARD. When the written Volumes of they have made them capable of giving the Mind from different and distant ages of the representation of their whole Spirit. world, from its distant and different climates,

Talboys. The pupil of language, therefore, are successively unrolled before his insatiable sir-pardon my presumption-before he can sight and his insatiable soul! recognize the appropriation of the Sign, must BULLER. Take all things in moderation. recognize the thing signified ?

North. No--not the sacred hunger and NORTH. And if the thing signified, Tal- thirst of the soul. boys, by the Word, be some profound, Buller. Greed-give-give. solemn, and moral affection--or if it be some NORTH. From what unknown recesses, wild, fanciful impression or if it be some from what unlocked fountains in the depth delicate shade or tinge of a tender sensibility of his own being, shall he bring into the -can anything be more evident than that light of day the thoughts by means of which the Scholar must have experienced in him he shall understand Homer, Pindar, Æschyself the solemn, or the wild, or the tenderly lus, Demosthenes, Plato, Aristotle-DISdelicate feeling, before he is in the condition COURSING! Shall understand them, as the of affixing the right and true sense to the younger did the elder—the contemporaries Word that expresses it ?

did the contemporaries--as each sublime TALBOYS. I should think so, sir.

spirit understood-himself ! SEWARD. The Words of Man paint the Buller. Did each sublime spirit always spirit of Man. The Words of a People de- understand himself ? picture the Spirit of a people.

Talboys. Urge that, Mr. Buller. Nortir. Well said, Seward. And, there- North. So--and so only--to read, is to fore, the Understanding that is to possess be a Scholar. the Words of a language, in the Spirit in BULLER. Then I am none. which they were or are spoken and written, North. I did not say you were. must, by self-experience and sympathy, be BULLER. Thank

you.
What do you

think able to converse, and have conversed, with of that, Mr. Talboys ? Address Seward, sir, the Spirit of the People, now and of old. Norty. I address you all three. Is the

BULLER. And yet what coarse fellows hold student smitten with the sacred love of Song ? up their dunderheads as Scholars, forsooth, Is he sensible to the profound allurement of in these our days !

philosophic truth? Does he yearn to acNorth. Hence it is an impossibility that a quaint himself with the fates and fortunes of low and hard moral nature should furnish a his kind ? All these several desires are so high and fine Scholar. The intellectual en- many several inducements of learned study. dowments must be supported and made BULLER. I understand that. available by the concurrence of the sensitive TALBOYS. Ditto. nature-of the moral and the imaginative North. And another inducement to such sensibilities.

study is—an ear sensible to the Beauty of BULLER. What moral and imaginative sen- the Music of Words--and the metaphysical sibilities have they--the blear-eyed--the pur- faculty of unravelling the casual process blind--the pompous and the pedantic! But which the human mind followed in imparting we have some true scholars--for example-- to a Word, originally the sign of one Thought

NORTH. No names, Buller. Yes, Seward, only, the power to signify a cognate second the knowledge of Words is the Gate of | Thought, which shall displace the first posScholarship. Therefore I lay down upon sessor and exponent, usurp the throne, and the threshold of the Scholar's Studies this rule forever over an extended empire in the first condition of his high and worthy suc- minds, or the hearts, or the souls of men. cess, that he will not pluck the loftiest palm Buller. Let him have his swing, Mr. by means of acute, quick, clear, penetrating, Talboys. sagacious, intellectual faculties alone-let Talboys. He has it in that chair. him not hope it: that he requires to the North. A Taste and a Genius for Words! highest renown also a capacious, profound, An ear for the beautiful music of Words ! and tender soul.

A happy justness in the perception of their SEWARD. Ay, sir, and I say so in all humil- strict proprieties! A fine skill in apprehendity, this at the gateway, and upon the thresh- ing the secret relations of Thought with old. How much more when he reads. Thought-relations along which the mind

North. Ay, Seward, you laid the empha- moves with creative power, to find out for its sis well there--reads.

own use, and for the use of all minds to

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