CHAPTER XX.

Violet Bank.

I quitted the house where I had so long and so agreeably sojourned, yesterday after breakfast. I walked. I was pressed by the worthy bleacher to take a horse, but declined it. A man who walks is the most independent, the most secure, and, I think, the most happy. We breathe too much the depressing air of chambers and towns, and we should, therefore, prolong as much as possible the pleasurable sensations which the sight of hill and dale, and rock and mountain, rarely fails to inspire. The day was fine. The road had become drythough traces of the late rains were to be observed in the little brooks that in some places crossed the road, and in the deepened murmur of the blue streams as they rushed headlong down the mountain's side.

The road led through a delightful country. Nature and art seemed to have conspired together to try which should beautify it most. The projecting rock, and deep glen, and venerable oak, of the former, were diversified with the swelling eminence, the sloping lawn, and graceful planting, of the latter. In the distant horizon the brightness of the bleach-green, the russet of the mountain

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top, and the verdure of its sides, shot into each other like the changing colours of a lutestring; ofi while the rich purple of the sky threw over the

whole a kind of celestial bripme. He

A gentleman in his carriage passed me. He civilly opened the door and invited me in. I preferred the open air. He had a book in his hand -something in the form of it struck me, and I requested leave to look at it. I found it was the small volume, of which this is, in some degree, a continuation. Not even the feelings of an author, which I do not pretend to be entirely above, could reconcile me to the man who took his eyes from the sublime book of nature which lay open before him, to fix them on a paltry production of man. He repeated his invitation; which I again declined. I assured him I did not walk from necessity but from choice. He smiled (I thought incredulous) and betook himself to his book again. He pitied me, therefore, I dare say. I am sure I pitied him when I looked upon mine.

I was rewarded for my humility by the conversation of an old Covenanter, who was going home from meeting, and overtook me as the coach quitted me. He had already walked three miles, and had five more to go. He seemed in I raptures with the preacher he had travelled so far to hear,

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"A bonnier discourse," said he, "was ne'er penned

spoke for twa gude hours and a half, and ne'er looked at book or paper-proved to us from aw authorities, both ancient and modern, that man was born to die."

"That is no difficult matter to prove," I said," most people know that as well as the preacher."

"For what they know I canna say;" answered he," but I know what they do there is the big man, now, that owns that pelace before us."

"Yes," said I," he's a great lord."

He's na great lord, sur," said he, "there's na great lord ava, but the great lord of heaven ough, but man puts himself in the place of his maker, and must be bowed down to, and worshipped, like the golden calf of the Israelites.". "His lordship," I said, " is the head of an ancient family."

"Alder than gude," said he," I'll be bound for it

gin we are to judge by what we hear o him-he leads a bra ranting life in London-gangs to plays and such like places, and then he comes over among us, and brings his fine medems, like so many painted Jezabels-but yough, hough, the worm is their mother and their sister, and when they are dead what becomes then of aa their pride and their airs? Lezerus will be in Abraham's bosom

I wunna say where they inay chance to be." A well dressed and good-looking young woman was washing her feet by the road side.

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stopped to have a few moments conversation with her. She had walked some distance, and was going to a friend's house on a very particular errand-with true northern foresight she had carried her shoes and stockings in a handkerchief, and was now washing her feet in order to put them on, that she might step in with all due smartness. When she had finished dressing herself she proceeded on with us. She was very communicative, and told us the business she was coming on, which was to look after a stray sweetheart. As I walked a little behind I overheard her tell my companion, who had a good deal the look of a diviner, the dream which pointed out the spot where she would find him. Dreams, I believe it is Homer says, come from Jove he must have been in one of his pleasantest moods when he sent her's going to visit Europa, perhaps, or descending in a shower of gold into the lap of Danae.

The old Covenanter and I continued conversing a good while after the young dreamer had left us. He was a shrewd and intelligent man. I was impressed as much with the singularity of his language, as the singular construction and independence of his mind. He never, in speaking of persons the most exalted in rank, or considerable for wealth, said lady or gentleman, but woman or man-lords, bishops, and even esquires, were not so much the objects

of his hatred, as of his derision and contempt. "Na, na, na," said he "it wanna bear controversy when there is na meerit, you would na surely gee a teetle, and when there is, it only disgraces wha ever said Mr. Matthew, or Mr. Luke, or Mr. John."

"Were my opinions the same as his, and, as far as transcendent merit is concerned, they certainly are, I should have given asimilar, though probably, a less evangelical illustration. I should, probably, have asked who ever said Lord Verulam, or Mr, Milton, or Mr. Shakespeare.

The Covenanters, it is hardly necessary to say, are the most rigid of Presbyterians, and the same who in Scotland, by their fatal opposition to the unfortunate Charles, led to the overthrow of the monarchy, and the inundation of these kingdoms with blood. They do not even yet pray for the king, because he has not taken the solemn league and covenant; nor do they pray by name for any person whatever. They are rigid maintainers of the ancient, and now almost exploded, doctrine of Election and Reprobation, and would not choose to waste their prayers on one whom, according to their benevolent system, the Almighty has, perhaps, preordained to eternal misery before the world was :

"As wordlings do, giving their sum of more
To that which has enough."

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