WILLIAM MOSS. 161 



friendship strove to woo him from his listlessness and 

 his depression. The poor fellow struggled fitfully, but 

 in vain. ' indolence ! ' Ross exclaims in one of his 

 letters, ' thou demon who hast ever had such power 

 over me (never more than now), accept the heartiest, 

 bitterest curses of thy victim. Unnerved by thy bane- 

 ful influences, I have loitered in the dark valley of 

 obscurity until the day of life is far spent until clouds 

 have arisen and obscured the bright vistas through which 

 I once hoped my path would lie. I am even losing the 

 little ground I have gained. I am sliding backwards. 

 The want of natural abilities, the want of a proper 

 education, the want of a rational confidence each of 

 these throw rough steep obstacles in the path of many 

 a poor sojourner ; but when thou, fiend ! seizest the 

 will and makest it thine own, we struggle no longer 

 against these obstacles. No ! we sit down at thy feet 

 and merely think of them. But why address the fiend ? ' 

 In a more pensive mood, he contrasts his own situation 

 with that of Miller : ' I can scarce say I desire anything. 

 Here I live as an exile, without a friend or a scene near 

 me that I love without anything to wish or enjoy. 

 How grateful ought you to be to the great Benefactor 

 who has placed you in a situation so truly delightful ! 

 I can in imagination picture you at work on the chapel 

 brae, where everything around you is so still, so fresh, so 

 beautiful. I can see green woods and yellow fields ; a 

 little quiet town at a convenient distance, with the blue 

 waves half encircling it, and the blue hills peeping over 

 it. Did I say I had sunk into such an apathy as to be 

 too indifferent to desire anything ? If so, I have spoken 

 amiss, for there are things which I can still desire. Did 

 I say you ought to be grateful to the Giver of all good ? 

 Alas,! discontented, restless thing that I am, I have 



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