how difficult it is for us dealers in petty wares of antiquity to—
Pluck from our memories a rooted 'legend',
Raze out the written records of our brain,
Or cleanse our bosoms of that perilous stuff—
and so forth. It would, I am sure, move his pity to think how many old dogs he hath set to learn new tricks, how many venerable parrots he hath taught to sing a new song, how many grey heads he hath addled by vain attempts to exchange their old Mumpsimus for his new Sumpsimus. But let it pass. Humana perpessi sumus. All changes round us, past, present, and to come; that which was history yesterday becomes fable to-day, and the truth of to-day is hatched into a lie by to-morrow.
Finding myself like to be overpowered in the monastery which I had hitherto regarded as my citadel, I began, like a skilful general, to evacuate that place of defence, and fight my way through the adjacent country. I had recourse to my acquaintance with the families and antiquities of the neighbourhood, ground on which I thought I might skirmish at large without its being possible for the stranger to meet me with advantage. But I was mistaken.
The man in the iron-grey suit showed a much more minute knowledge of these particulars than I had the least pretension to. He could tell the very year in which the family of De Haga first settled on their ancient barony.[1] Not a thane within reach but he knew his family and connexions, how many of his ancestors had fallen by the sword of the English, how many in domestic brawl, and how many by the hand of the executioner for march-treason. Their castles he was acquainted with from turret to foundation-stone; and as for the miscellaneous antiquities scattered about the country, he knew' every one of them, from a cromlech to a cairn, and could give as good an account of each as if he had lived in the time of the Danes or Druids.
I was now in the mortifying predicament of one who
- ↑ The family of De Haga, modernized into Haig, of Bemerside, is of
the highest antiquity, and is the subject of one of the prophecies of
Thomas the Rhymer:—
Betide, betide, whate'er betide,
Haig shall be Haig of Bemerside.
