THE OLD TOWN. 39
that tongue which sounded like the alarum-bell of the world is for ever silent.
Here Hugh Miller’s restless intellect and more restless heart are still. And
here Guthrie’s work is ended, and that long speech-his life-is closed.
Here Professor Nichol is shut out, while time endureth, from the spectacle of
those heavenly bodies which he loved so well and panegyrised with all the
HUCH YELLER’S GRAVE. EHALMERS’S GRAVE.
ardour of his fine imagination and warm heart. And here Samuel Brown,
bright ambitious ‘ son of the morning,’ rests, and all his gorgeous theories and
goIden hopes are buried with him-not, however, it may be, without some
prospect of resurrection, for does not the poet sing
‘ That every thought which strongly moves men’s minds,
And makes itself a worship in their hearts,
Contains within it an unchanging germ ;
May die, but must one day be raised again ;
In form though diverse, yet in soul the same,
Transfigured, and by this declared divine ’ ?
On the slope to the south of this, stands The Grange House, so called
from its having been in this locality that the grange or farm 6f the Vicar of
St. Giles’ was situated. In 1831 this house became the residence of Sir Thomas
Dick Lauder, the accomplished and gifted author of the lVt@t of Badenoch
and Th Moray Roods iit 1829,-0ne whose image as a talI, fine-looking,
grey-haired, gentlemanly man, with a world of geniaIity in his face, kindness
in his manner, and gleesome humour in his speech, lingers stilI in the memory
of many. . Before coming to the Grange he lived at Relugas, a romantic
