Page:Romance & Reality 1.pdf/108

102 nobody would die, that I mightn't have the burying of them: it's just my luck always." Edward's sympathy was interrupted by the roll of wheels. A phaeton drove up to the door, and in its owner he recognised his young friend Lord Morton; and a few minutes sufficed to persuade him to take his seat, and accept an invitation to Lauriston Park. It never rains but it pours, and a pouring shower is always a clearing one; so it proved, and a beautiful evening was darkening into still more beautiful night, as they entered Lauriston Park. Certainly our English parks are noble places; and a most disrespectful feeling do we entertain towards the nobleman who sells his deer and ploughs up his land. Why should he be so much richer or wiser than his grandfathers? Before them swept acres upon acres of green grass —a deep sea of verdure; here some stately oak, whose size vouched for its age—an oak, the most glorious of trees,—glorious in its own summer strength of huge branches and luxuriant foliage,—glorious in all its old associations, in its connexion with that wild, fierce religion, when the Druids made it a temple,—and thrice glorious in its association with the waves and winds it is its future destiny to master,