Mr. Mac
Quedy, according also to the laudable custom of his countrymen, had
been appraising everything that fell under his observation; but, on
arriving at the Roman camp, of which the value was purely
imaginary, he contented himself with exclaiming: "Eh! this is just
a curiosity, and very pleasant to sit in on a summer day."
MR. SKIONAR. And call up the days of old, when the Roman eagle
spread its wings in the place of that beechen foliage. It gives a
fine idea of duration, to think that that fine old tree must have
sprung from the earth ages after this camp was formed.
MR. MAC QUEDY. How old, think you, may the tree be?
MR. CROTCHET. I have records which show it to be three hundred
years old.
MR. MAC QUEDY. That is a great age for a beech in good condition.
But you see the camp is some fifteen hundred years, or so, older;
and three times six being eighteen, I think you get a clearer idea
of duration out of the simple arithmetic, than out of your eagle
and foliage.
MR. SKIONAR. That is a very unpoetical, if not unphilosophical,
mode of viewing antiquities. Your philosophy is too literal for
our imperfect vision.
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