PAN, BY ALCÆUS. 45 Indeed, I'm no sure if ever I kent the words; but that's naething—at this moment I feel the inscription in the original Greek to be very beautiful! For sake o' Mr Tickler, perhaps you'll receet it in English? North. Wayfaring man, by heat and toil oppress'd, Here lay thee down thy languid limbs to rest, And on yon mountain's brow the shepherd swain Shepherd. Thae auncients, had they been moderns, would hae felt a' we feel oursels; and sometimes I'm tempted to confess, that in the matter o' expression o' a simple thocht, they rather excel us-for, however polished may be ony ane o' their maist carefu' compositions, it never looks artificial, and the verra feenish o' the execution seems to be frae the fine finger o' Nature's ain inspired sel! O how I hate the artificial! Registrar. Not worse than I. Shepherd. Ca' a thing artificial that's no ony sic thing, and ye make me like it less and less till I absolutely dislike it; but then the sense o' injustice comes to ma relief, and I love it better than afore-as, for example, a leddy o' fine education, or a garden flower. For, I'll be shot, if either the ane or the ither be necessarily artificial, or no just as bonny, regarded in a richt licht, as a lass or a lily o' low degree. Ony ither touchin trifle frae the Greek, sir? North. We have had Pan-now for Priapus. Shepherd. Ye maun heed what you say, sir, o' Priawpus. North. Archias is always elegant, James. Registrar. And often more than elegant, North-poetical. He had a fine eye, too, sir, for the picturesque. North. Near to the shore, upon this neck of land, 1 Platane-the plane-tree. 46 A GATHERING AROUND THE TENT. Carved in such guise, and forced such form to take, My feetless legs, and cone-shaped, towering head, [Loud hurras heard from the glen, and repeated by all the North. Heavens! what's that? Shepherd. Didna I tell ye I had waukened the Forest? What's twunty, thretty, or fifty miles to the lads and lassies o' the South o' Scotland? Auld women and weans 'ill walk that atween the twa gloamins,—and haena they gigs, and carts, and pownies for the side-saddle, and lang bare-backed yauds that can carry fowre easy-and at a pinch, by haudin on by mane and tail, five? Scores hae been paddin the hoof1 sin' morn frae the head o' Clydesdale—Annan-banks hae been roused as by the sound o' a trumpet-and the auld Grey Mare2 has been a' day whuskin her tail wi' pleasure to see Moffatdale croudin to the Jubilee. [They all take their station outside on the brae, and hold up their hands. North. I am lost in amazement ! Tickler. A thousand souls! Registrar. I have been accustomed to calculate the numbers of great multitudes-and I fix them at fifteen hundred, men, women, and children. Shepherd. Twa hunder collies, and, asses and mules included, a hunder horse. Registrar. Of each a Turm. Shepherd. Oh! sir, isna 't a bonny sicht? There's a Tredds' Union for you, sir, that may weel mak your heart sing for joy -shepherds, and herdsmen, and ploughmen, and woodsmen, that wad, if need were, fecht for their kintra, wi' Christopher North at their head, against either foreign or domestic enemies; but they come noo to do him homage at the unviolated altar which Nature has erected to Peace. 1 Paddin the hoof-trudging on foot. 2 The waterfall so called near St Mary's Loch. NORTH'S CORONATION. 47 Registrar. A band of maidens in the van-unbonneted— silken-snooded all. And hark-they sing! Too distant for us to catch the words-but music has its own meanings-and only that it is somewhat more mirthful, we might think it was a hymn! Shepherd (to Tickler and the Registrar). Dinna look at him, he's greetin. If that sound was sweet, isna this silence sublime? Tickler. What are they after now, James ? Shepherd. They hae gotten their general orders-and a' the leaders ken weel hoo to carry them intil effeck. The phalanx is no breakin into pieces noo, like camstrary' cluds-ae speerit inspires and directs a' its muvements, and it is deploying, Mr Tickler, round yon great hie-kirk-looking rocks, intil a wide level place that's a perfect circle, and which ye wha hae been here the best pairt o' a week, I'se warrant, ken naething about; for Natur, I think, maun hae made it for hersel; and such is the power o' its beauty, that sittin there aften in youth, hae I clean forgotten that there was ony ither warld. Registrar. "Shaded with branching palm, the sign of Peace." Shepherd. Ay, mony o' them are carrying the boughs o' trees-and it's wonderfu' to see how leafy they are so early in the season. But Spring, prophetic o' North's visit, has fes tooned the woods. Tickler. Not boughs and branches only Shepherd. But likewise furms. There's no a few mechanics amang them, sir, house-carpenters and the like, and seats 'ill be sune raised a' round and round, and in an hour or less you'll see sic a congregation as you saw never afore, a' sittin in an amphitheatre—and aneath a hangin rock a platform—and on the platform a throne wi' its regal chair-and in the chair wha but Christopher North-and on his head a crown o' Flowers -for lang as he has been King o' Scotland-this-this is his Coronation Day. Hearken to the bawn! 2 Registrar. I fear it will soon be growing dark. Shepherd. Growin dark! O you sumph. This is no the day that will grow dark-and though this bauld bricht day luves ower dearly the timid dim gloamin no to welcome her 1 Camstrary or camsteery—unmanageable. 2 Bawn-band. 48 A PERFECT CHRYSOLITE. to sic a scene and though the timid dim gloamin has promised to let come stealin in by-and-by her sister, the cloudhaired and star-eyed Nicht, yet the ane will gang na awa as the ither is making her appearance—for day is in love wi' baith o' them, and baith are in love wi' day-sae 'twill be beautifu' to see them a' three thegither by the licht o' the moon "a perfect chrysolite"-and the sky aboon, and the glen aneath, and the hills between them a', will be felt to be but ae Earth! XXXIV. (JULY 1834.) Scene-The Leads of the Lodge. Present, NORTH, TICKLER, the SHEPHERD, BULLER. Time-Evening. 1 Shepherd. This fancy beats a', and pruves o' itsel, sir, that you're a poet. In fine weather, leevin on the leeds! And siccan an awnin! No a threed o' cotton about it, or linen either, but dome, wa's, cornishes, and fringes-a' silk. Oh! but she's a tastefu' cretur that Mrs Gentle-for I see the touch o' her haun in the hangins, the festoonins, the droopins o' the draperies-and it's a sair pity that ye twa, who are seen to be but ae speerit, arena likewise ae flesh. Pardon the allusion, Mr North, but you'll never be perfectly happy till she bears your name, or aiblins you'll tak hers, my dear auld sir, and ca' yoursels Mr and Mrs North Gentle; or gin you like better to gie hers the precedence, Mr and Mrs Gentle Christopher North. But either o' the twa would be characteristic and euphonous-for you're humane, sir, by nature, though by habit rather savage, and a' you want to saften you back into your original constitution is to be a husband— Tickler. And a father. Shepherd. As likely to be that as yoursel, Mr Tickler, and likelier too; and a' the warld would admire to see a bit canty callant or yelegant lassie trotting at his knee Tickler. "With all its mother's tenderness, North. James, is it not a beautiful panorama? Shepherd. A panorama! What? wad you wush to hae a panorama o' weans? 1 See vol. ii. p. 115, note 2. VOL. IV. 2 Ae-one. D |