153 THE JOURNEYMAN. 



1 Then thy mither's tears awhile 

 May chide thy joy an' damp thy smile ; 

 But sune ilk grief shall wear awa', 

 And I'll be forgotten by ane an' by a'. 



'Dinna think the thought is sad; 

 Life vexed me aft, but this mak's glad : 

 When cauld my heart and closed my e'e, 

 Bonny shall the dreams o' my slumbers be.' 



But he is young, and though his lungs have been 

 permanently and incurably injured, the energy of his 

 constitution, aided by repose and by peace of mind, is 

 sufficient for the present to conquer the disease. With 

 returning health return his interest in life and his intel- 

 lectual ambition. He renews his friendship with John 

 Swanson, who had recently abandoned a growing business 

 in Cromarty with a view to devoting himself to the work 

 of the Christian ministry in connection with the Church 

 of Scotland, and opens a correspondence with William 

 Ross. Swanson who, six years previously, had been 

 one of his most intimate friends, he finds improved 

 in all respects. John had thrown off a habit of sarcasm 

 which formerly disguised his kindness of heart, and ' his 

 judgment/ says Miller to Baird, ' had attained a strength 

 and niceness of edge which I had not before found 

 equalled/ In a few hours after they met, the friends 

 were more closely knit in the bonds of amity than they 

 had ever been. ' After parting with him for the even- 

 ing/ says Miller again, ' my spirits were so exhilarated 

 that I felt as if intoxicated/ 



While he worked as a stone-cutter, Swanson had 

 been preparing himself by a regular education for the 

 duties of a learned profession. ' I found my friend/ 

 writes Miller, ' to be one of the few persons who become 

 wise in proportion as they grow learned/ He adds the 

 following characteristic estimate of the effect of formal 



