of the one lake that genius has for ever hallowed! Up, sluggard! Place your knapsack on your back; but stow it not with unnecessary gear, for you have still further to go, and your rod also must be your companion, if you mean to penetrate the region beyond. Money? Little money suffices him who travels on foot, who can bring his own fare to the shepherd's bothy where he is to sleep, and who sleeps there better and sounder than the tourist who rolls from station to station in his barouche, grumbling because the hotels are overcrowded, and miserable about the airing of his sheets. Money? You would laugh if you heard me mention the sum which has sufficed for my expenditure during a long summer month; for the pedestrian, humble though he be, has his own especial privileges, and not the least of these is that he is exempted from all extortion. Donald-God bless him!has a knack of putting on the prices; and when an English family comes posting up to the door of his inn, clamorously demanding every sort of accommodation which a metropolitan hotel could afford, grumbling at the lack of attendance, sneering at the quality of the food, and turning the whole establishment upside down for their own selfish gratification, he not unreasonably determines that the extra trouble shall be paid for in that gold which rarely crosses his fingers except during the short season when tourists and sportsmen abound. But Donald, who is descended from the M'Gregor, does not make spoil of the poor. The sketcher or the angler who come to his door, with the sweat upon their brow, and the dust of the highway or the pollen of the heather on their feet, meet with a hearty welcome; and though the room in which their meals are served is but low in the roof, and the floor strewn with sand, and the attic wherein they lie is garnished with two beds and a shake-down, yet are the viands wholesome, the sheets clean, and the tariff so undeniably moderate that even parsimony cannot complain. So up in the morning early, so soon as the first beams of the sun slant into the chamberdown to the loch or river, and with

a headlong plunge scrape acquaintance with the pebbles at the bottom; then rising with a hearty gasp, strike out for the islet or the further bank, to the astonishment of the otter, who, thief that he is, is skulking back to his hole below the old saughtree, from a midnight foray up the burns. Huzza! The mallard, dozing among the reeds, has taken fright, and, tucking up his legs under his round fat rump, flies quacking to a remoter marsh.

"By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes," and lo! Dugald the keeper, on his way to the hill, is arrested by the aquatic phenomenon, and half believes that he is witnessing the frolics of an Urisk! Then make your toilet on the greensward, swing your knapsack over your shoulders, and cover ten good miles of road before you halt for breakfast with more than the appetite of an ogre.

Happy, happy days!-happy even now, though only recalled by memory! For although age has not yet clawed me in its clutch, and my strength and power of endurance remain unimpaired, though my elasticity may be somewhat lessened, I opine that a man on the steady side of forty does, somehow or other, cut a ridiculous figure in a knapsack and blouse, and ought to conform to the more luxurious habits which are expected from an individual of his standing. We must all of us adapt our habits and our pastimes to our age. We cannot hunt for eggs, break into orchards, or fish for minnows at twenty as we did at fifteen. We cannot run races, pull boats, or indulge in such boisterous hilarity at thirty as we did at twenty; and when we have reached the maturity of forty, we must perforce submit to whatever restrictions tyrant custom imposes, and be as cautious of shocking the prejudices of that starched old dame Respectability, as though she were a maiden aunt to whose accumulations we expected to succeed.

In this way I made the circuit of well-nigh the whole of the Scottish Highlands, penetrating as far as Cape Wrath and the wild district of Edder

achylis, nor leaving unvisited the grand scenery of Loch Corruisk, and the stormy peaks of Skye. Nor did I forget the scenes of my childhood, for the Osetts still lived at the Birkenshaws, and more than one delightful week did I spend there each summer, exploring Gameshope, or the Linns of Talla, where the Covenanters of old held their gathering; or clambering up the steep ascent by the Grey Mare's Tail to lonely and lovely Loch Skene, or casting for trout in the silver waters of St Mary's. Old Jamie-I should rather say Mr Osett-had by this time become a patriarch, and, as a ruling elder of the kirk, exercised no slight degree of spiritual jurisdiction in the vale of Yarrow. Bonny May Osett had, I must needs admit, lost all fairyness of form; and, though still comely, had become, like most rustic beauties, somewhat stout and clumsy. Nevertheless I had good reason to believe that her charms had subdued the heart of at least one devoted swain, for the son of a farmer, who lived over the hill upon Manor Water, contrived to find his way to the Birkenshaws at hours which hardly could have suited his pastoral occupation; and at his appearance I observed that May's rosy cheeks flushed up to the colour of the peony. Davie, my ancient playfellow, had shot from a chubby boy into a tall, thin, and somewhat gawky lad; shy, bashful, yet withal endowed with mother wit, and a strong sense of the humorous; and rather desirous, being somewhat affected by the epidemic of the times, to try his fortune beyond the limits of his native valley. These aspirations he imparted to me, as I well remember, one fine summer day, when we were sitting beneath an old thorn-bush near the mouth of the Meggat, known to all good anglers as "The Trysting Tree;" but as I may have occasion hereafter to introduce Davie Osett more circumstantially to the reader, I shall not now violate the secresy of our confidential communication.

I had stated to Mr Shearaway that I had formed no plan for my future line of life; and therein I spoke the truth. But that uncertainty, for I will not call it irresolution, was not

generated by indolence, nor did it arise from constitutional carelessness. I knew quite well that I had my own way to make in the world, and that I could not safely calculate upon any assistance. I knew to a penny the whole amount of my worldly possessions, which would not have sufficed to stock the most wretched farm, and on the interest of which I could not possibly live. It might suffice to pay my entry fees to any one of the learned professions, but, having taken a deliberate survey of them all, I could not, by inclination, impulse, or attraction, specify any as my appointed Land of Goshen. The agency business was overdone-I had not in me enough of the bully to bluster my way at the bar, which is the secret of early, though not of enduring, success-I felt no attraction to medicine-I had no call to divinity. A father whose son was impregnated with such ideas, would have torn his hair with anguish-I, who was forced to be father to myself, experienced no such paroxysm. I had a firm faith that, some day or other, perhaps when I least expected it, I should find my proper occupation; but in the mean time I thought it exceedingly unwise to make a sacrifice of my youth, and to deprive myself of the opportunity of learning much more than could be acquired at any seat of academical education. I longed to see something more of the great world than Edinburgh could present to my view. I had an ambition to study the languages and literature, and behold the customs and manners of foreign nations; and to visit places of which I had read and dreamed, until they had assumed a palpable form in my imagination. If travel was considered advantageous to the young patrician or wealthy heir, was it not likely to be of even more benefit to me, already trained to habits of application and economy, and not liable to be assailed by those temptations, which, in spite of the vigilant care of tutors, beset the path of the young Englishman of fortune? As for the means, they were quite within my power. I knew that, with proper care and caution, money would go a long way on the Continent; and, on making a calculation,

I found that I had quite enough money to enable me to travel and study, in the humble manner which I had proposed to myself, for at least five years to come. Nay, even that would not have exhausted my capital; but I had a duty to perform to my best and earliest friend; and I determined to leave untouched, in the hands of my guardian, a sum sufficient, when divided into annual payments, to secure some of the comforts which old age requires, for my own and my mother's nurse. At the Birkenshaws, Eppie Osett would again find a home; but I could not allow her to go there as a dependant on the charity of her relations. All this I had revolved and matured in my own mind, before I opened the subject to any one; for I had already contracted the habit of thinking and acting for myself-a habit which, I resolutely maintain, in the teeth of a thousand proverbs to the contrary, to be the secret of all success. God knows that advice, being a cheap article, can be had in plenty for the mere asking! No man so unfriended but he can find ten or a dozen elderly or aged gentlemen who will act as gratuitous Mentors if he chooses to apply to them, for nothing is so gratifying to human vanity as implicit deference to opinion. But what is the result? Simply this, that each sage, after giving you a prolix account of his own career, interspersed with interminable anecdotes of his ingenuity and forethought, ends by advising you to follow his example, I have often had advice tendered me, in the way of suasion or otherwise, though I have rarely asked it; and I vow to heaven that I can hardly recall an instance, bearing on any matter of importance affecting my progress in life, in which I would not have committed a serious error by departing from my own conviction. Our thoughts, aspirations, tendencies, idiosyncrasies, and in stincts can only be known to our

selves-these, in their general combination, are our motive powers; and by them we must act, and progress, and be practically influencedbut Mentor, when you go to him for advice, wise as he may look when tapping his snuff-box, regards all that as pure delusion and folly, or rather never takes it into account, because he supposes, and not without reason, that you wish to have a peep through his spectacles, instead of using your natural vision.

My guardian, or rather trustee, dear Ned Mather, with whom I had hitherto effected no settlement, did not pretend to be a Mentor. He merely opened his eyes under the bushy brows a little more widely than was his wont when I told him my determination; but did all that was necessary in the way of pecuniary arrangement. Mr Shearaway hemmed and hawed, but made no active opposition.

be

"Ye may be right, and ye may wrong, Norman; it's not easy to say which. I've been myself so long in the harness, that I can think of nothing but the usual jog-trot-two stages per diem, forward and back, like the old horse in the mail-coach -but-God go wi'ye, lad! and if you should want a friend at home-for though you are not likely to get into scrapes, it's aye of use to have a reference-write to Walter Shearaway."

Amidst universal expressions of good-will, I took leave of my old associates in the office; and when I was about to embark in the steamer for London, Ned Mather, who had accompanied me on board, and taken infinite trouble in seeing my luggage disposed of, whispered to me this, affectionately wringing my hand,

"If ye hear of any grand fishing, Norman, where the trout average three pound, write to me, and, as sure as the yellow hackle beats the red in the beginning of May, I'll be with you in less than a fortnight!"

VOL. LXXXVII.-NO. DXXXIII.

X

IN an article upon Mr Ruskin's Elements of Drawing in our January Number, we had occasion to refer to the transactions that took place in the Bay of Naples in the year 1799, upon which Mr Ruskin had grounded a malignant insinuation against the character of Nelson. We expressed the surprise we undoubtedly felt, and still feel, that any one should be found to repeat the slanders we allude to since the publication of Sir Harris Nicolas's Nelson Despatches. It appears, however, that we had assumed too much. A highly respectable journal challenges us to proof of the grounds of our belief, and assures us that "those slanders" are "still regarded by many as indisputable truths, amongst others, by the editor of Rose's Diaries and Correspondence." *

We feel obliged to the Spectator for having directed our attention to this passage in so recent a work. It contains a réchauffe of all the exploded calumnies against Nelson, proving both that the writer is in utter ignorance of such a book as the Nelson Despatches ever having issued from the press, and that the roots of the calumny have struck deeper than we had supposed. The Reverend editor of the Correspondence is not nice as to his language. He sums up half-a-dozen pages of pharisaical slip-slop with the following words :—

"On his return to Naples, Nelson dishonoured his character and sullied his glory by listening to the violent counsels of a woman whose passionate zeal for her friends overleaped all the boundaries, not only of discretion, but of justice. He became her accomplice in perfidy and murder." +

PERFIDY AND MURDER !-"By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words." If true, Nelson should have been hanged at the yardarm of his own ship; and instead of feeling a thrill of pride and exultation, we

*Spectator, January 7, 1860. + Nelson Despatches, vol. iii. p. 493. 4to, 1809.

ought to bow our heads in deep abasement when his name is mentioned. If false, every man who repeats the slander incurs a deep responsibility. The character of her heroes is the most precious heritage of a nation; and, of all the sons of England, not one is so dear to noble and generous spirits as he who fell at Trafalgar. The glory of Wellington may command a deeper reverence, the genius of Marlborough a more profound admiration, but our hearts are given to Nelson. We therefore readily adopt the suggestion of the writer in the Spectator, that we should "devote a special paper to the establishment of a fact which all Englishmen would so gladly believe if they could ;" and as the only sure ground for such belief, we shall proceed to lay before our readers as concise a statement as possible of the facts of the case, and of the position of affairs in the Bay of Naples in the month of June 1799.

The king had fled to Palermo. It is hardly possible to say that any government at all existed at Naples. The French had evacuated the city. The Republican insurgents had been defeated. The castles of St Elmo, Uovo, and Nuovo were, however, still garrisoned by the French, and many of the principal Neapolitan insurgents had taken refuge within their walls. The Royalist forces, under the command of Cardinal Ruffo, whose orders from the King were express not to treat with rebels, were engaged in an attempt to reduce those castles. Nelson, with the English squadron, was at sea on the look-out for the French fleet. One frigate (the Seahorse) and a bomb were left in the Bay of Naples under the command of Captain Foote, with orders to co-operate with the land forces. § On the 19th of June, Captain Foote, to his great surprise, received a letter from Cardinal Ruffo, requesting him to suspend hostilities against the castles, as a