THE CARTER. 119 



hope or heart, but takes the whole with a frank effulgence 

 of mirth, a rugged humour of character, which bears him 

 victoriously through. It never strikes him that there is 

 hardship in his own lot, but he has ready sympathy for 

 the distresses of others. Might not some Scotch artist 

 try to realize for us that picture, drawn by Miller of 

 himself with so little thought of picturesque effect, when 

 the pensive lad drops his mallet and looks at the High- 

 land woman, bent nearly double with her burden, yet, 

 as she wearily trudges past, working with both hands ? 

 One can see the kind, grave, deep-thoughted face, the 

 steadfast blue eyes moistening with compassion, the lip 

 touched, perhaps, with a faint, mournful smile of stoical, 

 not cynical, acceptance of the sternness of fate. 



Miller's poetical faculty, though not powerfully stirred 

 by the nymphs of Gairloch, and though more felicitous, 

 now and subsequently, in prose than in verse, did not at 

 this time slumber. That picture of the old grey tower 

 of Fairburn, ' like a giant eremite musing in solitude/ 

 is genuinely imaginative. His relations with the other 

 inmates of the bothy are full of a strong, hearty, buoy- 

 ant humour, which floods the rugged paths of life with 

 sport. The doings of the carter, who ' bullies, and 

 swears, and steals, and tells lies, and cares for nobody/ 

 are manifestly productive of diversion more than distress. 

 Miller in fact rather likes the man, though he feels that 

 he will be improved by a beating. The carter is clearly 

 one of those favourites of nature who obey her prompt- 

 ings and receive her rewards. He ' steals fish and 

 potatoes ' and makes himself comfortable while his 

 virtuous brethren do penance on oatmeal. Such a man 

 appeals irresistibly to that instinct of fallen humanity 

 which makes us admire successful personages like Draw- 

 cansir and Reynard the Fox. 



