The Utilitarian will settle the whole question of Life upon half its data--the lowest half. He accepts Agriculture, which he understands logically--but rejects Imagination, which he does not understand at all--because, if you sow it in the track of his plough, no wheat springs. Assuredly not; a different plough must furrow a different soil for that seed and that harvest. BULLER. Now, my dear sir, you speak like yourself. You always do so--the rashness was all on my side. SEWARD. Nobody cares--hold your tongue. NORTH. The Religionist errs from the opposite quarter. He brings measures from Heaven to measure things of the Earth. He weighs Clay in the balance of Spirit. I call him a Religionist who overruns with religious rules and conceptions things that do not come under them--completely distinct from the native simplicity and sovereignty of Religion in a piously religious heart. Both of them are confounders of the sciences which investigate the Facts and the Laws of Nature, visible and invisible--subduing inquiry under preconception. BULLER. Was that the Gong--or but thunder? NORTH. The Gong. TALBOYS. I smell sea-trout. SCENE III. SCENE--_Deeside_. TIME--_after Dinner_. NORTH--BULLER--SEWARD--TALBOYS. NORTH. One hour more--and no more--to Shakspeare. BULLER. May we crack nuts? NORTH. By all means. And here they are for you to crack. BULLER. Now for some of your _astounding Discoveries_. NORTH. If you gather the Movement, scene by scene, of the Action of this Drama, you see a few weeks, or it may be months. There must be time to hear that Malcolm and his brother have reached England and Ireland--time for the King of England to interest himself in behalf of Malcolm, and muster his array. More than this seems unrequired. But the zenith of tyranny to which Macbeth has arrived, and particularly the manner of describing the desolation of Scotland by the speakers in England, conveys to you the notion of a long, long dismal reign. Of old it always used to do so with me; so that when I came to visit the question of the Time, I felt myself as if baffled and puzzled, not finding the time I had looked for, demonstrable. Samuel Johnson has had the same impression, but has not scrutinised the data. He goes probably by the old Chronicler for the actual time, and this, one would think, must have floated before Shakspeare's own mind. TALBOYS. Nobody can read the Scenes in England without seeing long-protracted time. "_Malcolm._ Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there Weep our sad bosoms empty. _Macduff._ Let us rather Hold fast the mortal sword, and, like good men, Bestride our down-fallen birthdom: Each new morn, New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorrows Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out Like syllable of dolour." NORTH.