its
bosom whithersoever it will, so that

"God's puppets, best and worst,
Are we; there is no last nor first,"--

I institute an examination of Benlomond to discover those generic or
specific peculiarities which are supposed to have made their mark on me,
why, I find for resemblance, that the situations, look you, is both
alike. There is a river in Macedon; there is also, moreover, a river in
Monmouth: 'tis as like as my fingers to my fingers, and there is salmons
in both!

Have I taken Benlomond for my model? But why not Josephus and Ricardo
and Francois and Michel, any and all who have poured their fancies and
feelings into this mould? Why select the last disciple and ignore the
first apostle? Many prophets have been in Israel whom I resemble as
much, to say the least, as this Benlomond. Is it not, my friend, that,
in the multitude of your words and ways, you have not found time to
renew your acquaintance with these ancient worthies, and so their
features have somewhat faded from your memory? but Benlomond came in but
yesterday, and because he is a newspaper-topic, him you know; and
because at the first blush you running can read that there is a river in
Monmouth and also a river in Macedon, and salmons in both,--'tis as like
as my fingers to my fingers, and Monmouth was built on the model of
Macedon! Ah, my eagle-eyes, Judea, too, had its Jordan, and Damascus its
Abana and Pharpar, and little Massachusetts its Merrimac, which,

"poet-tuned,
Goes singing down his meadows."

But Judea did not type Damascus. The Merrimac bears not the sign of
Abana, nor was Abana born of Jordan: all, obedient to the word of the
Lord, trickled forth from their springs among the hills, and wander
down, one through his vine-land, one through his olive-groves, and one
to meet the roaring of the mill-wheel's rage.

I lay no claim to originality. Uttering feebly, but only

"The thoughts that arise in me,"

I know full well that the soil has been tilled and the seed scattered of
all that is worthy in the world. Where giants have wrestled, it is not
for pigmies to boast their prowess. Where the gods have trodden, let
mortals walk unsandalled. The lowliest of their learners, I sit at the
feet of the masters. To me, as to all the world, the great and the good
of the olden times have left their legacy, and the monarchs of to-day
have scattered blessing. Upon me, as upon all, have their grateful
showers descended