To hero bound for battle-strife,

Or bard of martial lay,

'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life,
One glance at their array!

Their light-arm'd archers far and near
Survey'd the tangled ground,

Their centre ranks, with pike and spear,
A twilight forest frown'd,

Their barbed horsemen, in the rear,

The stern battalia crown'd.

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No cymbal clash'd, no clarion rang,
Still were the pipe and drum;

Save heavy tread, and armor's clang,

The sullen march was dumb.

There breathed no wind their crests to shake,

Or wave their flags abroad;

Scarce the frail aspen seem'd to quake,

That shadow'd o'er their road.

Their vaward scouts no tidings bring,
Can rouse no lurking foe,

Nor spy a trace of living thing,
Save when they stirr'd the roe;
The host moves like a deep-sea wave,
Where rise no rocks its power to brave,
High-swelling, dark, and slow.

The lake is pass'd, and now they gain
A narrow and a broken plain,
Before the Trosach's rugged jaws;
And here the horse and spearmen pause,
While, to explore the dangerous glen,
Dive through the pass the archer-men.
At once there rose so wild a yell
Within that dark and narrow dell,

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As all the fiends from heaven that fell
Had peal'd the banner-cry of hell!

Forth from the pass in tumult driven,
Like chaff before the wind of heaven,

The archery appear:

For life! for life! their plight they ply-
And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry,
And plaids and bonnets waving high,
And broadswords flashing to the sky,
Are maddening in the rear.
Onward they drive, in dreadful race,
Pursuers and pursued;

Before that tide of flight and chase
How shall it keep its rooted place,
The spearmen's twilight wood?

"Down, down," cried Mar, "your lances down!
Bear back both friend and foe!"
Like reeds before the tempest's frown
That serried grove of lances brown

At once lay levell❜d low;
And closely shouldering side to side,
The bristling ranks the onset bide.
"We'll quell the savage mountaineer,

As their tinchel' cows the game!
They come as fleet as forest deer-

We'll drive them back as tame."

Bearing before them, in their course,
The relics of the archer force,

Like wave with crest of sparkling foam,
Right onward did Clan Alpine come.
Above the tide, each broadsword bright
Was brandishing like beam of light,
Each targe was dark below;

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And with the ocean's mighty swing,
When heaving to the tempest's wing,
They hurl'd them on the foe.

I heard the lance's shivering crash,
As when the whirlwind rends the ash ;
I heard the broadswords' deadly clang,
As if an hundred anvils rang!
But Moray wheel'd his rearward rank
Of horsemen on Clan Alpine's flank-

"My banner-man, advance!

I see," he cried, "their column shake.
Now, gallants! for your ladies' sake,
Upon them with the lance!"

The horsemen dash'd among the rout,

As deer break through the broom;

Their steeds are stout, their swords are out,
They soon make lightsome room.

Clan Alpine's best are backward borne-
Where, where was Roderick then?
One blast upon his bugle-horn

Were worth a thousand men.

And refluent through the pass of fear
The battle's tide was pour'd;
Vanish'd the Saxon's struggling spear,
Vanish'd the mountain-sword.

As Bracklinn's chasm, so black and steep,
Receives her roaring linn,

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As the dark caverns of the deep

Suck the wild whirlpool in,

So did the deep and darksome pass
Devour the battle's mingled mass:
None linger now upon the plain
Save those who ne'er shall fight again.

XLIII.

MY INTRODUCTION TO DR. JOHNSON.

BY JAMES BOSWELL.'

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At last, on Monday, 16th of May, when I was sitting in Mr. Davies's back parlor, after having drank tea with him and Mrs. Davies, Johnson unexpectedly came into the shop; and Mr. Davies having perceived him, through the glass door in the room in which we were sitting, s advancing towards us, he announced his awful approach to me somewhat in the manner of an actor in the part of Horatio, when he addresses Hamlet on the appearance of his father's ghost, "Look, my lord, it comes!" I found that I had a very perfect idea of Johnson's figure, from the portrait of him painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds soon after he had published his dictionary, in the attitude of sitting in his easy-chair in deep meditation; which was the first picture his friend did for him, which Sir Joshua Reynolds kindly presented to me, and from 15 which an engraving has been made for this work. Mr. Davies mentioned my name, and respectfully introduced me to him. I was much agitated; and recollecting his prejudice against the Scotch, of which I had heard much, I said to Davies, "Don't tell where I come from." 20 "From Scotland!" cried Davies, roguishly. "Mr. Johnson," said I, "I do indeed come from Scotland; but I cannot help it." I am willing to flatter myself that I meant this as light pleasantry, to soothe and conciliate him, and not as a humiliating abasement at the s expense of my country. But, however that might be,

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this speech was somewhat unlucky, for with that quickness of wit for which he was so remarkable, he seized the expression, "Come from Scotland"-which I used in the sense of being of that country-and, as if I had said that I had come away from it, or left it, retorted, s That, sir, I find, is what a very great many of your countrymen cannot help." This stroke stunned me a good deal; and, when we had sat down, I felt myself not a little embarrassed, and apprehensive of what might come next. He then addressed himself to Davies: 10 "What do you think of Garrick? He has refused me an order for the play for Miss Williams, because he knows the house will be full, and that an order would be worth three shillings." Eager to take any opening to get into conversation with him, I ventured to say,15 "Oh, sir, I cannot think Mr. Garrick would grudge such a trifle to you." "Sir," said he, with a stern look, "I have known David Garrick' longer than you have done, and I know no right you have to talk to me on the subject." Perhaps I deserved this check; for it was rather 20 presumptuous in me, an entire stranger, to express any doubt of the justice of his animadversion upon his old acquaintance and pupil. I now felt myself much mortified, and began to think that the hope which I had long indulged of obtaining his acquaintance was blast-25 ed. And, in truth, had not my ardor been uncommonly strong, and my resolution uncommonly persevering, so rough a reception might have deterred me from making any further attempts. Fortunately, however, I remained upon the field not wholly discomfited, and was soon re-30 warded by hearing some of his conversation, of which I preserved the following short minute, without marking the questions and observations by which it was produced:

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