70 MEMOIR OF BRUCE. 



mind of the traveller. " Half undressed as I was 

 (says he), and throwing my shoes off, I ran dow r n 

 the hill towards the green island of sods, which 

 was about two hundred yards distant. The whole 

 side of the hill was thick grown with flowers, the 

 large bulbous roots of which, appearing above the 

 surface, and their skins coming off on treading upon 

 them, occasioned me two very severe falls before 

 I reached the brink of the marsh. I, after this, 

 came to the mound of green turf, which was in 

 form of an altar, apparently the work of art, and I 

 stood in rapture over the principal fountain which 

 rises in the middle of it. 



" It is easier (continues Bruce in a strain of 

 rapturous exultation) to guess than to describe the 

 situation of my mind at that moment standing on 

 the spot which had baffled the genius, industry, and 

 inquiry of both ancients and moderns for nearly 

 three thousand years. Kings had attempted this 

 discovery at the head of armies, and each expedi- 

 tion was distinguished from the last, only by the 

 difference of the numbers which had perished ; and 

 agreed only in the disappointment that had uniformly 

 and without exception followed them all. Though 

 a mere private Briton, I triumphed here, in my own 

 mind, over kings and their armies ; and every com- 

 parison was leading nearer and nearer to presump- 

 tion, when the place itself where I stood, the object 

 of my vain-glory, suggested what depressed my 

 short-lived triumph. I was but a few minutes 

 arrived at the source of the Nile, through number- 



