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in large flakes, over house and church-steeple, away to the farthest end of the little wind-swept city. From the west, too, wind-currents find their way easily through it; that there is no stagnant air, and no close vapours, everywhere an openness, a skyey influence, and a Sess of air all about. nach it from the south — from the hills that -and the traveller sees it set in a framework sea, and wood; while the pilgrims of the rmounting their last hill, halted at an till stands on the Hill of the King,

knees at sight of the sacred spires, op at length given them to behold

f flesh. Stand in the middle ANDREW BELL was bomis gaps of the sand-hills flashes the 27th of March 1753. lue of the bay-waves; you

St Andrews is a place to deep-blue sea, which is new and old, town and crearr and infinite sky. Skytianity, that one or two w;rha ne looks; while the town The traveller on reaching it sees n let down upon the fallen out of the ordinary track-ifrine to the sons of the common world, and that hea has on lying place, which cannot be judgedd. You meet standards we apply to villages, and towns, experienced Such a cold stony hiryononces of street, such a gred; of sky, alternately chills and depresses, or lifts and inspires him. Old ruins, rising up bare and gaunt into the heaven, long reaches of monotonous street, quiet fields looking suddenly in upon the town, a bay of the most changeful hues—sometimes black as night, at other times of a blue as deep as the Mediterranean, or

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III. LONDON—ST ANDREWS- AND LEITH, .
IV. INDIA, . .

V. HOME AGAIN, .
VI. DR BELL AS A COUNTRY PARSON,
VII. ANDREW BELL AND JOSEPH LANCASTER,
VIII. THE SYSTEM SPREADS,
IX. DR BELL IN DURHAM, .

X. PROGRESS, . .
XI. GROWING FAME,
XII. DR BELL ON THE CONTINENT, ..
XIII. HEREFORD AND SHERBURN,
XIV. THE LAST DAYS, .
XV. DR BELL'S CORRESPONDENCE, .
XVI. DR BELL'S CHARACTER AND SYSTEM, .

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in large flakes, over house and church-steeple, away to the farthest end of the little wind-swept city. From the west, too, wind-currents find their way easily through it; that there is no stagnant air, and no close vapours, everywhere an openness, a skyey influence, and a ?ss of air all about. ach it from the south — from the hills that and the traveller sees it set in a framework şea, and wood; while the pilgrims of the · mounting their last hill, halted at an

'll stands on the Hill of the King, knees at sight of the sacred spires, som t length given them to behold

fflesh. Stand in the middle ANDREW BELL was born in thaps of the sand-hills flashes the 27th of March 1753. 'ue of the bay-waves; you

St Andrews is a place so fu deep-blue sea, which is new and old, town and country, and infinite sky. Sky: tianity, that one or two words m looks; while the town The traveller on reaching it sees ? let down upon the fallen out of the ordinary track-hrine to the sons of the common world, and that he has co lying place, which cannot be judged d. You meet standards we apply to villages, and towns, aperienced Such a cold stony hideousness of street, such a gred; of sky, alternately chills and depresses, or lifts and inspires him. Old ruins, rising up bare and gaunt into the heaven, long reaches of monotonous street, quiet fields looking suddenly in upon the town, a bay of the most changeful hues—sometimes black as night, at other times of a blue as deep as the Mediterranean, or

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