THE TWEED AT DRYBURGH. 281 
often regarded him and formed conjectures as to the 
visions that were passing before his active mind,— 
how foreign they were to and totally separate from 
the mechanical duties of his office. The grave reti- 
cence,—the gaze into vacancy, which wanted recog- 
nition of the object it was seemingly directed to, 
—the hurried jotting down with the pen of passing 
_thoughts,—all betokened a spirit wrapt up in a higher 
mood of contemplation than that which engages a 
mere recorder of judicial utterances ; and to observe, 
on his discharge from the Parliament House, the 
stalwart Borderer hurrying down the Mound on his 
way to Castle Street, latterly to Shandwick Place ;— 
the very recollection of my having often done so is 
worth looking back upon. Everyone knew him, but 
even his most intimate friends seldom used the free- 
dom to interrupt his progress by addressing him ; 
not that had they done so the interruption would 
have been otherwise than cordially met with ; still, 
there was an air of abstraction in his look that de- 
terred from any advance on the part of the passer-by 
beyond the offering of a respectful token of recogni- 
tion. All these reminiscences of the Great Unknown 
naturally enough flashed across me on the occasion I 
speak of, and combined to raise to the highest point 
of solemnity to which the feelings can attain my con- 
templation of the scene under review. I am not a 
believer in ghosts, but I believe in the power of the 
