The wanderer hears, in pensive dream,
The accents of the last farewell,
As, pausing by the mountain stream,
He listens to the evening bell.

This terzetto was of course much applauded; Mr Milestone observing,
that he thought the figure in the last verse would have been more
picturesque, if it had been represented with its arms folded and its
back against a tree; or leaning on its staff, with a cockle-shell in
its hat, like a pilgrim of ancient times.

Mr Chromatic professed himself astonished that a gentleman of genuine
modern taste, like Mr Milestone, should consider the words of a song
of any consequence whatever, seeing that they were at the best only a
species of pegs, for the more convenient suspension of crotchets and
quavers. This remark drew on him a very severe reprimand from Mr Mac
Laurel, who said to him, "Dinna ye ken, sir, that soond is a thing
utterly worthless in itsel, and only effectual in agreeable
excitements, as far as it is an aicho to sense? Is there ony soond
mair meeserable an' peetifu' than the scrape o' a feddle, when it does
na touch ony chord i' the human sensorium? Is there ony mair divine
than the deep note o' a bagpipe, when it breathes the auncient
meelodies o' leeberty an' love? It is true, there are peculiar trains
o' feeling an' sentiment, which parteecular combinations o' meelody
are calculated to excite; an' sae far music can produce its effect
without words: but it does na follow, that, when ye put words to it,
it becomes a matter of indefference what they are; for a gude strain
of impassioned poetry will greatly increase the effect, and a tessue
o' nonsensical doggrel will destroy it a' thegither. Noo, as gude
poetry can produce its effect without music, sae will gude music