distinction, when it falls to the lot of a generous mind, may elevate
that mind into true nobility. It is one of the effects of hereditary
rank, when it falls thus happily, that it multiplies the duties, and,
as it were, extends the existence of the possessor. He does not feel
himself a mere individual link in creation, responsible only for his
own brief term of being. He carries back his existence in proud
recollection, and he extends it forward in honourable anticipation. He
lives with his ancestry, and he lives with his posterity. To both does
he consider himself involved in deep responsibilities. As he has
received much from those that have gone before, so he feels bound to
transmit much to those who are to come after him. His domestic
undertakings seem to imply a longer existence than those of ordinary
men; none are so apt to build and plant for future centuries, as
noble-spirited men, who have received their heritages from foregone
ages.

I cannot but applaud, therefore, the fondness and pride with which I
have noticed English gentlemen, of generous temperaments, and high
aristocratic feelings, contemplating those magnificent trees, which
rise like towers and pyramids, from the midst of their paternal lands.
There is an affinity between all nature, animate and inanimate: the
oak, in the pride and lustihood of its growth, seems to me to take its
range with the lion and the eagle, and to assimilate, in the grandeur
of its attributes, to heroic and intellectual man. With its mighty
pillar rising straight and direct towards heaven, bearing up its leafy
honours from the impurities of earth, and supporting them aloft in
free air and glorious sunshine, it is an emblem of what a true
nobleman _should be_; a refuge for the weak, a shelter for the
oppressed, a defence for the defenceless; warding off from them the
peltings of the storm, or the scorching rays of arbitrary power. He
who is _this_, is an ornament and a blessing to his native land. He
who is _otherwise_, abuses his eminent advantages; abuses the grandeur
and prosperity which he has drawn from the bosom of his country.
Should tempests arise, and he be laid prostrate by the storm, who
would mourn over his fall? Should he be borne down by the oppressive
hand of power, who would murmur at his fate?--"Why cumbereth he the
ground?"

A LITERARY ANTIQUARY.

Printed bookes he contemnes, as a novelty of this latter age; but
a manuscript he pores on everla