Quem super uotas aluere ripas,
Fervet, immensusque ruit profundo
Pindarus ore:
—‘per audaces nova dithyrambos
Verba devolvit, numerisque fertur
Lege solutis.’”
This is to our mind singularly characteristic of our perfervid Scotsman. If we may indulge our conceit we would paraphrase it thus. His eloquence was like a flooded Scottish river,—it had its origin in some exalted region—in some mountain-truth—some high, immutable reality; it did not rise in a plain, and quietly drain its waters to the sea,—it came sheer down from above. He laid hold of some simple truth—the love of God, the Divine method of justification, the unchangeableness of human nature, the supremacy of conscience, the honorableness of all men; and having got this vividly before his mind, on he moved—the river rose at once, drawing everything into its course—
“All thoughts, all passions, all desires,—
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,”
things outward and things inward, interests immediate and remote—God and eternity—men, miserable and immortal—this world and the next—clear light and unsearchable mystery—the word and the works of God—everything contributed to swell the volume and add to the onward and widening flood. His river did not flow like Denham’s Thames,—