66 Mary Somerville. 



both learned and unlearned. Sir David was one of 

 the greatest philosophers of the day. He was only a 

 year younger than I ; we were both born in Jed- 

 burgh, and both were influenced by the supersti- 

 tions of our age and country in a similar manner, 

 for he confessed that, although he did not believe 

 in ghosts, he was eerie when sitting up to a late 

 hour in a lone house that was haunted. This is a 

 totally different thing from believing in spirit- 

 rapping, which I scorn. 



We returned as usual to Burntisland, in spring, 

 and my father, who was at home, took my mother 

 and me a tour in the Highlands. I was a great 

 admirer of Ossian's poems, and viewed the grand and 

 beautiful scenery with awe ; and my father, who 

 was of a romantic disposition, smiled at my en- 

 thusiastic admiration of the eagles as they soared 

 above the mountains. These noble birds are nearly 

 extirpated ; and, indeed, the feathered tribes, which 

 were more varied and numerous in Britain than in 

 any part of Europe, will soon disappear. They 

 will certainly be avenged by the insects. 



On coming home from the journey I was quite 

 broken-hearted to find my beautiful goldfinch, which 

 used to draw its water so prettily with an ivory cup 

 and little chain, dead in its cage. The odious 

 wretches of servants, to whose care I trusted it, let 



