“And a Jacobite notwithstanding--or rather, I will give you leave to call me one of the party which, in Queen Anne’s time, were called, WHIMSICALS, because they were sometimes operated upon by feelings, sometimes by principle. After all, it is very hard that you will not allow an old woman to be as inconsistent in her political sentiments as mankind in general show themselves in all the various courses of life; since you cannot point out one of them in which the passions and prejudices of those who pursue it are not perpetually carrying us away from the path which our reason points out.” “True, aunt; but you are a wilful wanderer, who should be forced back into the right path.” “Spare me, I entreat you,” replied Aunt Margaret. “You remember the Gaelic song, though I dare say I mispronounce the words-- ‘Hatil mohatil, na dowski mi.’ (I am asleep, do not waken me.) I tell you, kinsman, that the sort of waking dreams which my imagination spins out, in what your favourite Wordsworth calls ‘moods of my own mind,’ are worth all the rest of my more active days. Then, instead of looking forwards, as I did in youth, and forming for myself fairy palaces, upon the verge of the grave I turn my eyes backward upon the days and manners of my better time; and the sad, yet soothing recollections come so close and interesting, that I almost think it sacrilege to be wiser or more rational or less prejudiced than those to whom I looked up in my younger years.” “I think I now understand what you mean,” I answered, “and can comprehend why you should occasionally prefer the twilight of illusion to the steady light of reason.” “Where there is no task,” she rejoined, “to be performed, we may sit in the dark if we like it; if we go to work, we must ring for candles.” “And amidst such shadowy and doubtful light,” continued I, “imagination frames her enchanted and enchanting visions, and sometimes passes them upon the senses for reality.” “Yes,” said Aunt Margaret, who is a well-read woman, “to those who resemble the translator of Tasso,-- ‘Prevailing poet, whose undoubting mind Believed the magic wonders which he sung.