As might be easily supposed, this assemblage of qualities, at once the most solid and attractive that I ever knew, was little comprehended by the generality of mankind. That noble independence which disdains the tricking arts of popularity, and _dares_ to walk alone, was miscalled pride. The elegant retirement of a mind replete with resources, and too refined to consider as society what was not congenial companionship, was, with equal departure from just discrimination, styled misanthropy, while sensibility, which with magic touch can raise aërial hosts of imagery; and straying over the sacred expanse of time gone by, and yet to come, sighs to the memory of the past, or o'er the uncertainty of the future: this was _selfishness_, according to vulgar interpretation. But vice and folly are compelled to pay the reluctant homage of an involuntary respect at the shrine of virtue, and collective excellence is always sure to receive its tribute, however incapable the mass of mankind may prove to appreciate the individual beauties of a character which they do not understand. _Such_ tribute was paid in large proportion to my friend; and while kindred merit sought his acquaintance with enthusiasm, the _little world_ were forced to gaze at him with reverence, and look up with veneration. He is gone! and I never visit this spot, associated peculiarly with his image, unaccompanied by the recollection of that epitaph at the Leasowes, the only beautiful testimony of surviving affection which I remember to have seen, and which seems as if written for Douglas, and for him alone. Heu quanto minus est Cum reliquis versari, Quàm tui meminisse!" Mr. Otway paused, and I felt deeply affected by the impressive manner in which these eloquent lines were repeated. After a short silence, I told him how greatly I felt indebted for the animated sketch which he had just given me of a relation whom I had never till then heard so particularly described. "At Glenalta," said I, "there is no allusion ever made to my uncle, and I think, that I have already discovered, even at this distance of time from his death, that even the name of Henry cannot be pronounced without causing an inward convulsion of feeling in my aunt. At first I thought it impossible, but on reading a paragraph to her in the newspaper yesterday, I perceived a recurrence of such an expression in her countenance, as determined me to avoid producing it again, at least by a repetition of the same sound which gave rise to her present agitation."