CHAPTER I.

He could not deny, that looking round upon the dreary
region, and seeing nothing but bleak fields, and naked
trees, hills obscured by fogs, and flats covered with
inundations, he did for some time suffer melancholy to
prevail on him, and wished himself again safe at
home--Travels of Will Marvel, Idler, No. 49.

It was in the beginning of the month of November, 17--, when a
young English gentleman, who had just left the university of
Oxford, made use of the liberty afforded him, to visit some parts
of the north of England; and curiosity extended his tour into the
adjacent frontier of the sister country. He had visited, on the day
that opens our history, some monastic ruins in the county of
Dumfries, and spent much of the day in making drawings of them from
different points; so that, on mounting his horse to resume his
journey, the brief and gloomy twilight of the season had already
commenced. His way lay through a wide tract of black moss,
extending for miles on each side and before him. Little eminences
arose like islands on its surface, bearing here and there patches
of corn, which even at this season was green, and sometimes a but,
or farm-house, shaded by a willow or two, and surrounded by large
elder bushes. These insulated dwellings communicated with each
other by winding passages through the moss, impassable by any but
the natives themselves. The public road, however, was tolerably
well made and safe, so that the prospect of being benighted brought
with it no real danger. Still it is uncomfortable to travel, alone