« НазадПродовжити »
parts, occupied by water, where they having taken place at Schehallien. will acquire a horizontal stratifica- These latter observations ought to tion, and, by certain mineral operá be repeated on different mountains, tions, be afterwards consolidated into the interior construction of which can stone ; such a body, in the course be ascertained; but the most eligible of ages, must acquire a surface every method which has ever yet been sugwhere at right-angles to the direction gested, is that of making observaof gravity, and consequently more or tions on the large Pyramid of Ghizeh, less approximating to a spheroid of in Egypt, the materials of which, equilibrium. The natural history of as well as its exact figure, being the earth gives considerable coun, known, would render observations tenance to these suppositions, and made on it particularly desirable ; seems to furnish us with a very ra. especially as they would afford certain tional explanation of the ellipticity data, and reduce the calculations, or spheroidal form belonging to the which are now extremely complicated, earth, and to the planets which are to almost nothing. This method was known to revolve about an axis. The recommended by Dr C. Hutton, in distribution of the solid materials in his last paper published in the Phithe interior of the earth will very losophical Transactions of London ; much affect the nature of this solid; when that veteran declared, that if and the manner in which the figure ill health and old age did not prevent is acquired must probably prevent him, he would make a journey to the approximation from ever being Egypt, entirely for that purpose *. entirely complete. The distribution, “On the whole, the facts known however, of the materials, at any from observation agree in general considerable distance below the sure with the theory ; but there are, in face, must remain to us for ever un. the expression of that theory, SO known; we have no means of ex- many quantities which are yet indeamination, except by the measures terminate, that a perfect coincidence ment of degrees, the experiments on of the two cannot be strictly affirmpendulums, or from observations ed; in fact, the business is not yet made on the deviation of the plumb- completed ; something further still line from the perpendicular similar remains for future philosophers to to what has just been described as accomplish."
First in her battles; he has rear'd her fanes,
Restor'd her laws, struck off her galling chains,
By yonder lifeless form, and on his cheek
Mark the big tear in silent language speak,
Him on whose sunny face he lov'd to gaze,
Watching how merrily his youthful days
• As our military and naval officers are many of them quite competent to the undertaking, and as Great Britain always affords facilities for such experiments, may we not entertain hopes, that, before long, some gentleman, finding himself near the spot, will make the necessary observations, and immortalize his name by determining the deviation of the plumb-line, caused by the Great Pyramid ; for, together with this, its dimensions and figure, and the specific gravity of the materials of which it is con. structed, would afford sufficient data for the solution of the intricate but very useful problem.
SKETCHES FROM NATURE.
April 1818. came considerably attached to him ; MY DEAR FRIEND,
and the more so, because I found in Though I had no desire to stay him a considerable similarity of taste. long at H , yet I did not expect At our leisure hours we read and to have left it quite so soon: left it, talked about our favourite authors; however, I have, and after another and though he had much less need little journey, I have arrived here in of me than I had of him, he was evi. safety, and supplied with materials dently pleased with my company. In sufficient to furnish another letter of this manner time passed slowly on; travelling adventures.
the day employed in my common But to give you something like a occupation, working along with the regular narrative, I must begin where rest, and thinking on other scenes, my last letter left off. With a fixed and dearer friends; the evening spent determination to perform my duty in in reading, talking with my only a conscientious manner, and with my companion, or hearing him play a few father's strong warnings against "eye tunes upon his fiddle, which he often service” deeply impressed upon my did when he perceived me more than mind, I joined my companions in commonly inclined to sadness; and labour; and, along with them, be well he knew how to wake a strain gan the toils and duties of that sta concordant with my feelings, and lead tion of life in which Providence has my mind away from itself, by the placed me. At every interval of la. associations stirred by plaintive meabour, every breathing-time, I stole a sures, till the grief which I continued few cautious scrutinizing glances at to feel became in itself a pleasure. my companions, anxious to observe Meanwhile the weather, which had them, but fearful of being myself been unsteady, became worse and observed. They were all like stran- worse; the wind blew from the north. gers to me, and most of them stran- east with the most bitter keenness, gers to one another also; the greater bearing along, at short intervals, thick part about middle age, and none so drifting showers of snow and sleet. young as myself. They appeared to Often, during the showers, we cowerbe well acquainted with that world ed under the feeble shelter of the which was so new to me ; and no thin leafless beech-hedges, looking thing surprised me more, than the wistfully out for the re-appearance easy and unembarrassed manner with of blue-sky, and shivering till we which they talked to each other, were unable to speak; and always at though, till that very day, they had the “ fair blinks” working as fast as perhaps never met. Some of them possible, to acquire some warmth. accosted me in different ways, as Many a thought of the comfortable their several inclinations led them; fire-side of home did these chill blasts one speaking upon any indifferent awake in my mind, while I was subject; another upon the proper cul. trembling at the very heart ; but tivation of this or the other species of these I kept to myself, as I imaginplant; a third, gaily, but I thought ed it would be altogether disgraceful cruelly and officiously, bantering me, for me to appear overcome with cold, asking how long I had left my mo- like a child. After some days of ther, and if I was not well “ speaned” such weather, the wind shifted into yet? I shrunk from their familia. the south-west, the skies cleared, the rity, and plied my work with a sick sun shone out bright and warm, and heart. One young man, apparently the little birds began to sing their about two or three years older than joyful notes. I felt the renovating myself, perceived my distress, spoke influence, and my heart at one tiine to me kindly, and endeavoured, by danced with delight, at another melttalking upon agreeable and diverting ed away in tender recollections of subjects, to turn my mind from its that home whence the wind was now melancholy musings, and he partly blowing, whose whisperings seemed succeeded. In a short time I be to me like the voice of a friend.
While my mind was warmed with I'll inaybe thae sweet scenes o' youth see these feelings, another rhyming fit
nae mair, came upon me, and here follows the But aye till the cauld han' o' death result.
shuts my e'e, Where'er I may wander, where'er I
may dwell, Recollections of Youthful Scenes. Dear, dear shall their memory be ever The gale saftly blaws frae the hills o' my to me.
hame, An' oh! how delightfu' its breathings
Au' oh! the lang gaze o' my fond mo
ther's e'e, to feel !
Sae tenderly bent on her wandering While gently its wing fans my cheek an'
boy ; my breast,
My father's voice struggling wi' kindness What fond recollections o'er memory - antief steal !
An' his bosom's deep heave wi' the sad My father's wee cot rises fresh on my
parting sigh ;view,
An' each glad joyous face, that made An' the lang ash-trce soughing abune
hame doubly dear, the lum-head ;
Sae dowie an' tearfu' to see me depart; My ain green sod-seat by the bourtrees Oh! that gaze, an' that sigh, an each o'erhung,
dear waefu' face, Wi' their sweet milky blossoms or ber.
or ber. Till it ceases to beat shall aye dwell in ries sae red.
my heart. The clear caller spring, an' its pure rip- . pling stream,
Now, you must not be severe in Wi' a' its wee islands o' cresses sae your criticisms upon my poor verses; green ;
I cannot help it that they are not The bank where the primrose peeps mo. better, for they are the best I could destly out,
produce, and they are true represenAn' the violet uplifts to the sun its blue tations, both of the natural scenery een ;
of my dear home, and the warm Where the green woodbine clings to the
feelings of my heart. auld wither'd tree,
A few days after the change of the While its dark berry nods to the whis. wind, and the agreeable alteration pering gale ;
of weather which followed, I got the The plantings where often I've daunert
offer of a situation some miles bemy lane In the gloamin', an' listend the cushy
yond C- ; and as it was consider. do'es' wail :
ably better in every respect than that
at H- , it appeared to me the most The fields wi' the crimson-tipt gowans be prudent course to accept it. Accordgemm'd,
ingly I again packed up my little An' skirted wi' hawthorn, sae snawy, trunk, keeping out a small bundle sae green ;
for immediate use, till it should come Where I've watch'd the wee nestlings a' gaping for food,
to me; seized my “gude aik stick" • To frighten or herrie them laith wad I
and my umbrella, and prepared for been:
my departure. Though I had been The green spongy mosses, where light
little more than a fortnight at H- , somely waves
yet I felt something like grief or reThe tufted grass, white as the swan's gret at leaving it; particularly when downy breast;
my only companion shook hands Or the Crane-burn, that twisting, an' with me affectionately, and kindly boiling, an' wild,
wished me all manner of success and Foaming bursts o'er the Linn frae the happiness. I assure you I felt conhill's woody crest :
siderably at parting with him, and The thick branchy trees where I've nestled
setting out on a new journey, alone mysel',
as before, to mingle again amongst An' gaz’d at the scud o' the fast-driv.
utter strangers,--Englishmen, too, a ing rain,
nation for which, from my boyhood, There swinging an' rock'd in the wild
I have felt no small dislike : and raving blast,
now to be really going into England, But now thae young days o' delight and with the prospect of making my are a' gane :
residence there for some time! it
seemed to me as if I were labouring each other. To this he very willingly under some strange delusion, which agreed, so on we went together. He I had not the power to dispel. Of was in person about my own height, ten, in my early youth, while I read but considerably stouter, and appathe history of ic Wallace wight,” rently three or four years older, and, have I cried with grief and bitter from the paleness of his countenance, hatred at the “ Southrons," and seemed to have been less exposed to wished for power to avenge his mur- the action of the sun and the weather. der upon them, often longed for a When we reached the village, and, day when the savage butcheries and after making inquiries, left the Dwanton devastations committed after road, and took that leading to Lthe battle of Culloden would be re- I proposed having something to eat quited :-and now to feel myself ac- and drink, as I had not taken any tually going to England, to live a refreshment since morning, and had mongst Englishmen! I thought upon since then walked upwards of twenty it again and again, and wondered how miles; he told me plainly that he I would behave when there.
could not afford it, as he had but one There was besides another circum- sixpence left, and that he did not stance which tended to wake feelings dare to break upon it till he knew of a peculiar kind in this journey: where he would get a bed, and what for above twenty miles I was exact. it would cost him. I offered the poor ly retracing the road which I had fellow a share of a bottle of porter, lately come ; so that I knew myself and some bread and cheese, which approaching nearer home every step, he accepted very thankfully. After yet knew that my journey would not eating and drinking a little, he belead me there. I cannot describe to came quite lively and happy, and you how strange it seemed, to be sung me two or three songs while we travelling the very road which led rested ourselvcs. One of them was homewards, yet with the unavoida- of a Jacobite character, and appable conviction in my mind that I rently not very old; it was so conwould not reach it: I felt as one cordant with my feelings in some feels in a dream, when something is respects, that I was desirous to posjust within his reach could he make sess it, got him to repeat it over the slightest exertion ; but he sees slowly, while I wrote it down with the object of his ardent wishes glide my pencil, and here I send you a gradually away from his grasp, with copy of it. the consciousness that a slight effort on his part would be sufficient to ob
Lang, lang shall Caledonia rue tain it, yet feels an utter inability of
That day when owre Culloden's plain making even that slight effort. Thus The bluid o her bravest heroes stream'd I drew gradually nearer and nearer Like the torrent-gush o' the wintry home, yet knew, at the same time,
rain; that I was drawing nearer the place when the fierce-sould victor joy'd to where I must leave the road which
hear leads home, unless, indeed, I should The plaided warrior's dying groan, continue it, as I could do, longed to An' his pitiless e'e grew red an' keen, do, yet would not do.
While he sternly cheer'd his ruffians.on. A little before I reached that dread. Then ride ve north, or ride ye south, ed place of separation, I saw a young For the length o' a day, nought wad man sitting by the roadside a little
ye seen before me, as if resting himself. He But the ruin'd wa's a' bluidy stain'd rose as I came forward, and accosted Where the hames o' the luckless brave me very civilly with a “ Here's a fine
had been ; day." I answered, that it was indeed Then Scotia's targe sank frae her arm, a very good day for travelling ; he Her gude braid sword was broke in immediately asked me if I could die twa, rect him the way to L- ? I told The tapmost flower o' her thistle droop'd, him that I was acquainted with it,
An' the last o' the Stuarts was driven but was intending to go there my
awa. self that night, and that if he was Now she maun sit like a widow'd dame, going there, we might accompany (v lonely wastes wi' slaughter red, - .