Chapter 14 - Page 2

I have thought of those words which I
cannot remember to have heard before, which are in a language unknown to
me, and which yet conveyed, when translated, a lesson which I could so
plainly apply to my own circumstances?"

The Antiquary burst into a fit of laughing. "Excuse me, my young friend
--but it is thus we silly mortals deceive ourselves, and look out of doors
for motives which originate in our own wilful will. I think I can help
out the cause of your vision. You were so abstracted in your
contemplations yesterday after dinner, as to pay little attention to the
discourse between Sir Arthur and me, until we fell upon the controversy
concerning the Piks, which terminated so abruptly;--but I remember
producing to Sir Arthur a book printed by my ancestor, and making him
observe the motto; your mind was bent elsewhere, but your ear had
mechanically received and retained the sounds, and your busy fancy,
stirred by Grizel's legend I presume, had introduced this scrap of German
into your dream. As for the waking wisdom which seized on so frivolous a
circumstance as an apology for persevering in some course which it could
find no better reason to justify, it is exactly one of those juggling
tricks which the sagest of us play off now and then, to gratify our
inclination at the expense of our understanding."

"I own it," said Lovel, blushing deeply;--"I believe you are right, Mr.
Oldbuck, and I ought to sink in your esteem for attaching a moment's
consequence to such a frivolity;--but I was tossed by contradictory
wishes and resolutions, and you know how slight a line will tow a boat
when afloat on the billows, though a cable would hardly move her when
pulled up on the beach."

"Right, right," exclaimed the Antiquary. "Fall in my opinion!--not a
whit--I love thee the better, man;--why, we have story for story against
each other, and I can think with less shame on having exposed myself
about that cursed Praetorium--though I am still convinced Agricola's camp
must have been somewhere in this neighbourhood. And now, Lovel, my good
lad, be sincere with me--What make you from Wittenberg?--why have you
left your own country and professional pursuits, for an idle residence in
such a place as Fairport? A truant disposition, I fear."

"Even so," replied Lovel, patiently submitting to an interrogatory which
he could not well evade. "Yet I am so detached from all the world, have
so few in whom I am interested, or who are interested in me, that my very
state of destitution gives me independence. He whose good or evil fortune
affects himself alone, has the best right to pursue it according to his
own fancy."

"Pardon me, young