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I

MEMOIRS

OF THU

LIFE OF JAMES WILSON, ESQ.

F.R.S.E., M.W.S.

OF WOODVILLE.

BY

JAMES HAMILTON, D.D., F.L.S.

e

LONDON:

JANIES NISBET AND CO., 21 BERNERS STREET.

HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO., PATERNOSTER ROW.
M.DCCC.LIX.

EDINBURGH :

PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY,
PAUL’S WORK.

SL

RHYAL COLLEGE OF PHY3ICIAN*
LI ERAS Y

CLASS

A CON.

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souru..- 'PcUc<U {-%l , Zo

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PREFACE.

Although scarcely claiming to be a contribution
to what is commonly called religious biography, it
is hoped that there is room for a volume which
tries to delineate, however imperfectly, a Christian
gentleman, and which shews how honourably and
usefully an accomplished mind may fill up a life
of leisure. It may possibly strike some readers
that the style is neither so solemn nor so stately
as befits a tribute to departed worth. If so, our
apology must be, that the book is neither an elegy
nor a funeral oration. It is an attempt to repro-
duce, as nearly as possible in its own tone, a life
which is now continued and ennobled elsewhere.

IV

PREFACE.

and of which the aspect, as it met our eye, was
very bright and cheerful and beneficent.

Many of Mr Wilson’s friends have helped ns in
this effort, and for valuable information we tender
our best acknowledgments to His Gfrace the Duke
of Argyll, and the Lady Emma Campbell ; to the
Hon. B. F. Primrose ; to Sir John M ‘Neill ; to P.
S. Selby, Esq., Dr E. K. Greville, Professor Bal-
four, Adam White, Esq., and D. Crole, Esq. ; to
John Bussell, Esq., Treasurer of the Eoyal Society
of Edinburgh ; to Adam Black, Esq., M.P., to John
Murray, Esq., John Blackwood, Esq., and W. P.
Kennedy, Esq. Besides all the assistance derived
from his own beautiful and comprehensive sketch
of Mr Wilson’s character, we are under great
obligations to Professor George Wilson for his
personal communications ; and we would espe-
cially commemorate the kindness of Sir William
Jardine, who placed at our disposal a collection
of seventy -two letters, which scientific readers will

PREFACE.

V

only regret that we have not used more freely.
Nor can we forbear to add, that the book owes
its existence and its best materials to the affec-
tionate zeal with which the compiler has been
aided by the members of Mr Wilson's family.

48 Euston Square,

April 16, 1859.

CONTENTS,

CHAPTER I.

PAGE

EARLY YEARS, ...••!

CHAPTER II.

A CONTINENTAL TOUR, . . . .23

CHAPTER III.

INVALIDISM AND ITALY, . . . 79

CHAPTER IV.

WOODVILLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PURSUITS, . Ill

CHAPTER V.

THE MOORS AND THE MOUNTAINS, . . 137

CHAPTER VI.

BUSINESS AND RECREATION ; SUNSHINE AND SHADOW, 191

Vlll

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VII.

PACE.

CRUISES IN THE PRINCESS ROYAL, THE HASHER, AND

THE LUCIFER, .... 223

CHAPTER VIII.

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS, . . 273

CHAPTER IX.

GLIMPSES OF THE HIDDEN LIFE, AND CLOSE OF THE

MORTAL PILGRIMAGE, . . . 319

CHAPTER X.

FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY, . 349

A LIST OF MR WILSON’S PUBLICATIONS, . . 397

CHAPTER I.

♦

“ My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky :

So was it when my life began ;

So is it now I am a man ;

So be it when I shall grow old,

Or let me die !

The Child is father of the Man ;

And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.”

Wordsworth.

“ There are so many ways of writing biography, that it is vain to
inquire which is the best. One canon, however, may be safely insisted
on, namely, That the record of a man’s career should correspond in tone
to the character of him whose life it chronicles.” — Dr George Wilson.

A

Some thirty years ago, an English tourist was standing on
the Castle Rock, with a lank, keen-visaged Scotchman
for interpreter and guide.

“ Now, my good friend,” said the Southron, “ you
have talked quite enough about your native town. Pray,
forget Paisley for a moment, and let us look at Edin-
burgh.”

\

“ It ’s no that easy to forget Paisley when ye look at
Embro’,” replied the offended cicerone. “ Seest ’(mV’
and he pointed towards the University buildings ; “ that ’s
Embro' College, where they come from England and a’
pairts to learn to be doctors, and chancellors, and mem-
bers o’ Parliament ; and it has the cleverest men in the
three kingdoms for its professors : but far the cleverest
of them a’ is ane John Wilson, and he’s a Paisley man.
And seest ’ou ?” pointing to a distant spire ; “ yon ’s the
steeple o’ North Leith. It’s the best stipend in Scotland,
and at this present it ’s allowed to have the best preacher
in Scotland for its minister. Ye must have heard tell of
the Rev. James Buchanan ; but ye may have forgotten

4

EARLY YEARS.

that he’s a Paisley man. And seest ’on that kirk wi’
the doom on ’t ? That ’s St George’s, where a’ the gentry
attend for the sake of the singing ; and I’se warrant ye ’ll
no hear the like o’ the precentor in a’ England. They
ca’ him B. A. Smith, and he ’s a Paisley man. And seest
’ou where a’ thae coaches are waiting to start ? That ’s
the Eegister Office. Ye may say it’s the key-stane o’ the
kingdom ; for lairds and lands a’ king by it. But though
it ’s the place where dukes and earls keep their titles, and
the King himself keeps his papers, every day, when the
clerks gae hame, and the door is steekit, the entire place
is left in charge of an auld wife, and she’s a Paisley
woman.”

Without vouching for the accuracy of this last par-
ticular, and whilst begging a little indulgence for the
vanity of our fellow-townsman, we must claim for Paisley
the rights which its neighbour cities are not sufficiently
ready to recognise. But the town which has numbered
amongst its ministers Boyd of Trockrig and Arch-
bishop Adamson, Principal Smeton and President Wither-
spoon ; which introduced to professional life Watt, the
laborious compiler of the “ Bibliotheca Britannica and
which from amongst her sons contributed to natural
science Wilson, the American ornithologist ; to sculpture,
John Henning ; and to poetry, Kobert Tannakill and the
author of “ The Isle of Palms,” — need not be ashamed, but

“ THE PARADISE OF SCOTLAND.

5

W

may speak in the gate to all gainsayers. In the latter
half of last century, when the wages of its weavers were
good ; when they had time to cultivate their little gardens,
and grow such polyanthuses and tulips as nowhere else
were seen ; when they had time to read the Bible and
pray with their families every day, and could at leisure
hours get through such books as “ Henry’s Exposition”
and the “ Universal History,” we need not wonder that
Rowland Hill should have pronounced Paisley “ the Para-
dise of Scotland.” When we add that — partly a result of
the disputatious humour inherent in Scotchmen, partly a
result of a gregarious or social tendency characteristic of
the place — a high degree of intelligence, edged with a
peculiar wit, distinguished the inhabitants, the reader will
congratulate Mr Wilson on being able to boast such a
birthplace, and will only regret that by a removal else-
where he forfeited its advantages in the second year of his
age*

The native of a country where birthdays are seldom
celebrated, the subject of this biography could never tell

* It was the calamity of Mr Wilson’s biographer to quit “ the Paradise
of Scotland” at an age still more tender : it is therefore little that he
can add in the way of personal reminiscence. But in the days of his
youth he had a venerable relative (proprietor of the oldest spinning-
caill in Scotland) who used to say, that when he was young he knew
almost every “reeking lum” in Paisley, and that there was a time
every morning, when passing almost any door, you were sure to hear
the voice of prayer or of psalms.

6

EARLY YEARS.

which was the day when first he saw the light ; and as it
was Paisley, in the month of November, the likelihood is
that there was not much light to be seen. He was born
in the year 1795.

His father, a manufacturer in extensive business, and a
banker, died before his youngest boy could be conscious of
the loss ; and, with her numerous sons and daughters, Mrs
Wilson removed to Edinburgh, where so many Scottish
families, in their day of desolation, seek a second home.
Here, with comfortable resources, and with God’s blessing
on her kind and sensible administration, she was per-
mitted to see her children grow up ; and, what seldom
happens in our country, twice over did a son marry with-
out migrating from under the maternal roof. Her house,
No. 53 Queen Street, was the residence of her youngest
son till the time of his own marriage.

Mrs Wilson’s maiden name was Margaret Sym. Her
brother Robert, the “Timothy Tickler” of the “Noctes,”
is still an outstanding personage in every Edinburgh
memory. At an early hour of any morning his meagre
lofty figure, like a peripatetic palm, after eighty summers
still retaining its six feet four of altitude, and surmounted
by a splendid silvery crown, might be descried by any one
who was soon enough astir, on its journey from the old
town to Trinity, or returning from its quotidian plunge
in the sparkling sea. But although advancing years at

TIMOTHY TICKLER.

7

last deprived liim of this luxury, they could not make him
effeminate. He had reached his ninety-fourth year before
he had ever breakfasted in bed, and the first day on which
he did it was his last of life. This kind, methodical, and
sprightly uncle was a favourite with his nephews, and
went far to supply a father’s place ; nor was any one of
them a more welcome visitant at 20 George Square than
the youngest of the Queen Street band ; for alike in his
graver and his gayer moods, the delicate sympathy and
merry enchantments of his congenial kinsman gladdened
the heart of the dear old man.

We have now told who was the father of the subject of
this memoir, who were his mother and his uncle, and in
the progress of the narrative we hope to shew who he
was himself ; but in all the dictionary of biographical
synonyms there is no other instance where it is so need-
ful to premise who he was not. Knowing him to be a
naturalist, many of our friends confound him with another
Wilson, whose admirable and original researches amongst
the feathered natives of the United States, followed out
by Prince Lucien Bonaparte, are still a standard work on
American ornithology ; but although a poet and an orni-
thologist, and withal a native of Paisley, our Mr Wilson
never was a weaver, nor was he ever in the United States,
and his Christian name was not Alexander. Nor can he
even claim all the honours which the catalogues have

8

EARLY YEARS.

heaped on the industrious head of plain James Wilson.
Although he travelled on the Continent in the self-same
years., he is not the author of James Wilson's “ Continental
Tour in 1816-18;” although a poet and a Paisley man,
he is not the author of “ Silent Love,” by James Wilson
“ the Paisley poet ; ” lawyer though he was, he did not sit
in the first Congress, and he had no hand in drawing up
the American constitution ; aquatic as were many of his
tastes, he did not compile a manual on “The Water
Cure ; ” and Scotchman though he was, he never pub-
lished on statistics, nor did he edit a London newspaper.
What is still more worthy of observation, although their
mental features somewhat corresponded, and their affec-
tion for each other was intense, he was a distinct person-
ality from his own brother John. One day, many years
ago, at the dinner-table at Ardencaple the conversation
came to turn on Blackwood's Magazine, which, with its
merry mischief, was then vexing or diverting all the
world. “ Has Professor Wilson any brothers ? ” exclaimed
a guest ; but before Lord John Campbell could introduce
the quiet gentleman opposite, with a face of impene-
trable solidity, James Wilson, turning to the interrogator,
made answer for himself. “ Oh yes, he has several
brothers. But, as you know always happens in such
cases, all the brothers are idiots ! However, I submit to
the laws of nature.”

THE PICTURE-BOOK

9

With these laws our friend had little cause of quarrel.
And now, asking pardon for bestowing on such particulars
the space which, in regular biographies, is usually devoted
to a genealogical table, we proceed with our narrative.

The books given to children are like the flies with which
an angler tries the stream. Few are so dull or sulky as
to refuse every bait ; but so diverse has the wise Creator
made the turn 'or tendency of different people, that the
fisher of men or the teacher of youth, whose hooks have
all the self-same mounting, will fail to “ raise ” some of
the most valuable fishes. Fortunately for himself and his
fellow-creatures our little orphan was caught betimes.
When only three years of age a kind friend presented
him with a book called “ The Three Hundred Animals.”
It was the very food for which his hungry soul had
appetite. He never wearied gazing on its pictures of the
elephant and lion, and its monkeys manifold; and as
soon as he could read with sufficient ease, he devoured its
descriptive letterpress. The barb thus busked was killing,
and even before he knew the name, he was carried captive
for the rest of life by natural history.

In the fauna of the Pentlands, sheep are doubtfully in-
digenous, and in Edinburgh itself the mammalia of most
frequent occurrence are mice and rats ; but for the other
great divisions of natural science no European capital is
so favourably situated. With a delightfully variegated

10

EARLY YEARS.

flora, it exhibits a corresponding diversity of insect forms;
and whilst woods and waters are populous with birds of
every size, from the wren at Bonally to the gannet on
the Bass, it will be long before the marine zoologist ex-
hausts his aquarium in the Frith — it will be long before
the cabinets at Craigleith and Burdiehouse have disclosed
to the palaeontologist all the relics preserved on their
shelves of stone. For botany and geology James Wilson
never conceived any particular affection ; but from earliest
childhood the whole of animated nature found entrance to
his soul, and acquired new vitality and significance there.
Indeed, it was the life that is in them and around them
which formed his great attraction to the lower creatures.
Some naturalists are mere collectors. They prefer the bird
in the hand to any number in the bush, and would rather
contemplate a stuffed eagle inside their glass-fronted cup-
board than watch the king of birds as, above the peaks
of Atlas, he “ cleaves the adverse storm, and cuffs it with
his wings ; ” and, like numismatologists, they go on adding
cone to cone and carabus to carabus, very forgetful of the
living history of which they have there the medal and
memorial. Others of a nobler type are mere anatomists.
Intent on structure, they would not grudge the industrious
years which Lyonnet devoted to the nerves and muscles of
a grub, and to their piercing eye a chimpanzee or peer of
Parliament is little better than a skeleton with a ticket-of-

THE MUSEUM.

11

leave — a preparation still walking about in native fur or
exotic ermine. Our friend never became a great proficient
in comparative anatomy, and bis collecting originated in
the desire to possess continually at band mementoes of
tbe creatures which be bad learned to love elsewhere.
On tbe summer evenings, when escaped from tbe High
School, or on tbe bright and ample holiday when Roslin
or Habbie's How was the delectable mountain of bis
pilgrimage, and when bis quiet gentle spirit bad seen
tbe sights and beard tbe sounds unsurmised by noisier
comrades, be was glad to carry home a keepsake from his
own private carnival. Tbe stuffed birds and rows of
beetles which be began to store up in bis little sanctuary
at Queen Street, to Professor Jameson and the initiated
few would be “ specimens,” to tbe housemaid and tbe
irreverent many they would be “rubbish,” but to tbe
youthful compiler they were symbols and dear memorials.
Among tbe whistling blasts of October they brought back
the days of June, and they made mid- winter balmy.
That corn-craik recalled a cloudless gloaming, and, caught
as it was on Arthur's Seat, that Artaxerxes butterfly was
still surrounded with tbe whole panorama from Ben Lo-
mond to Berwick Law, whilst rosy reminiscences flitted past
from bees and burnet-moths with wings now motionless.
“Stolen waters are sweet,” and such a collection is a magical
cup which, dry to the stranger, still overflows to the owner.

12

EARLY YEARS.

As we have said, life and living things had the chief
attraction for our youthful naturalist. Sir John M ‘Neill,
the distinguished diplomatist, who subsequently married
his sister, was one of his earlier companions. “ My ac-
quaintance with him/' writes Sir John, “ commenced in
1810. He was then at college, and fully occupied with
natural history — with entomology especially; although
Professor Jameson seemed desirous to direct his attention
to his own favourite science. By Jameson he was led for
a time to the study of mineralogy and geology, and got
involved in the discussion then warmly carried on between
Wernerian and Huttonian theorists. In this controversy
he took with Jameson the side of Werner, and for a time
was rather keenly interested ; but to me and his other
friends it was obvious that his heart was still given to
zoology ; and this bias was shortly after confirmed by his
intercourse with poor Leach,* from which time forward I
do not believe he ever deviated into any other path. He

* William Elford Leach, born at Plymouth in 1790, was brought up
to the medical profession ; hut the same zeal for natural history which
drew Mr Wilson aside from law, diverted Leach from physic. In 1813
he obtained an appointment in the Zoological Department of the British
Museum; hut in 1821, through a failure of health both mental and
bodily, he was obliged to resign his curatorship. He went to Italy, and
died there of cholera in August 1 836. Besides editing the Zoological
Miscellany, he was the author of many papers in the “ Linnsean Trans-
actions,” and by his researches on insects, crustaceans, &c., obtained a con-
siderable name amongst naturalists. Amongst the few zoologists to be

BEETLE-HUNTS.

13

became a very diligent collector of insects, and seemed at
all times to be more interested in observing their habits
and studying their characters, so to speak, than in ascer-
taining and classifying their external distinctives. I state
this from personal observation, for I was not unfrequently
the companion of his entomological rambles, or ‘ beetle-
hunts,’ as I used to call them.”

Nor was it merely the life that was in them, but the
crreat wide life which was over and around them, so abun-

O

dant and so beautiful. To James Wilson was given this
rare perception — a poet’s intuition rendered still more ex-
quisite by “ a natural piety.” Even before the bright
hopes of the Christian revelation had lit up his personal
future, the surrounding scene was irradiated by the Divine
presence ; and although there might sometimes be too
much of pantheistic vagueness in the recollection, it often
kindled up into a consciousness which warmed his heart
and filled his eyes. For rough and athletic sports he had
no strength, for boisterous festivities no turn : it was there-
fore his great delight to hie away to the sea-shore or the
mountain side, and court those companionships which

found in Edinburgh in Mr W ilson’s early days, the society of one so
ardent was a great acquisition ; but his rapid and impetuous ways were
not in unison with Mr Wilson’s orderly and painstaking disposition.
Speaking of Leach’s letters, he says in a note to Sir W. Jardine, “ He
always wrote like a man standing on one leg, and in a hurry to be
done.”

14

EARLY YEARS.

entailed no fatigue, and left no compunction. Nor did it
greatly matter in what embodiment the visitation came.
The first swallow — a bee coaxed forth by early warmth —
a flight of aerial passengers on their clangorous way through
the windy clouds — a rainbow, and above all things a sun-
set, would surcharge his spirit with irrepressible emotion,
and, if it did not lift him off this earthly clod altogether,
it sent him home with heart elate, and full of unutterable
musings. During those first years, it was a struggle be-
tween the poet and the naturalist ; and although his early
rhymes have perished, we need them not to assure us that
the fellow-countryman of Thomson and Grahame could
have added a worthy lay to “The Seasons” and “The
Birds of Scotland.”

Although the more practical element at last prevailed,
there always remained a poetical tincture in Mr Wilson’s
science. Placed in circumstances which made no profes-
sion absolutely imperative, the recreation of his boyhood
became increasingly the labour of his love ; and whilst
coming more and more to value exactitude and method,
the delightful associations of those ardent days continued
to the last, and, even in the midst of the severest techni-
calities, rendered it impossible for him to become a scien-
tific Dryasdust.

Mild, gentle, and affectionate as were James Wilson’s
earlier years, probably no one surmised what a “ fountain

QUIZZING.

15

sealed” of sublime and tender feeling that quiet nature
was. In our own youth we remember being despatched
on an embassy to Edinburgh by our Glasgow fellow-
students. Our mission was to the late Lord Cockburn,
then His Majesty’s Solicitor-general, and withal our Lord
Rector ; and our errand was to bring him through to give
a casting-vote in his own behalf, so that he might be re-
elected to a third year of office. To the staimch old
Reformer this proposal was too like self-election to be
altogether palatable ; but at last he agreed to do it : and
when the interview ended, as he stood on the steps of his
house in Charlotte Square, the sunbeams glancing on the
polished cupola of that hatless cranium which held more
shrewdness, wit, and eloquence than any head in Edinburgh,
we remember how he said, “ Well, I suppose I must do it,
and be mortally quizzed for the rest of my days. However,
I shall not go about the bush. I shan’t say, ‘ I give my
vote for the present Lord Rector,’ or, ‘ I give my vote for
the Solicitor-general.’ But the Principal will say, 'My lord,
for whom do you vote ?’ and I shall reply, ‘ Principal Mac-
farlan, I vote for myself ’ ” — a promise which he fulfilled
most literally. This fear of being “ quizzed” is an affection
pre-eminently Scottish. Our Irish neighbours live in an
atmosphere of badinage and repartee, and John Bull pays
Punch a handsome salary for quizzing him ; but north of
the Tweed we do not like it. In a battle betwixt cat and

16

EARLY YEARS.

dog a water-engine is an ungenerous piece of ordnance,
owing to the greater sensitiveness of the feline constitu-
tion ; and many a lion-heart around the Grampians which
stands fire very well cannot stand fun. This dread of
ridicule has many advantages. It snubs a good deal of
pedantry, and it keeps back a large amount of maudlin
sentiment ; but it is to be feared that it also damps a
good deal of generous aspiration, and occasionally drives
genius in upon itself. Nor was the hero of our tale en-
tirely superior to the national infirmity. All the rather
because he was so exquisitely endowed with the sense of
the ridiculous, did he deprecate supplying personal illus-
trations ; and, through fear of the banter they might
excite, he kept to himself many of the noblest and finest
things in his nature. Lest he might be laughed at as
another Icarus, although he had very good wings of his
own, he forbore to fly; and, in dread of that imperfect
sympathy which soon degenerates into perfect derision, he
arrested the pathetic or eloquent utterance when already
struggling to his lips, and was content to dwell in silence.
Or if such utterance did escape, he covered his retreat by
quizzing himself. When a boy, a playmate remembers
that in a moment of good-nature or vanity, he one evening
shewed his companions the press which contained his
cherished collections. Of course, they greatly admired
the museum ; but before there was time for any one to

w. s. ?

17

nickname him the showman or the little philosopher, or
jeer at his favourites, he held the candle so near as to
bum the tails of some of the birds. And by some such
suicidal stratagem it was his wont to disarm the sardonic
furies. A lady remembers his telling at Inverary Castle,
late in life, the story of a dog which, in leaping a fence,
had spiked itself ; and as he described their sitting up
over-night with the poor animal, and its pitiful appealing
looks to its different friends, and its gradual subsidence
into the arms of death, the human touches which he threw
in were beginning to be too much for his tender-hearted
auditors, when the arch tone in which he ended, “ It was
very affecting,” compelled every one to laugh just at the
moment they were beginning to cry. Of this inverting
of the stylus, by which he so far cancels the effect of a
powerful passage, his works contain innumerable in-
stances. In order to escape the reproach of romance or
sentimentalism, he singed the tail; but when it is the
plumage of an ibis or a bird of paradise, we regret the
sacrifice.

With all the Latin and Creek which could be acquired
at school and college, and with a facility and elegance
in writing English which seemed to be inherent in his
family, it was time that the youth should choose a
profession ; and, we suspect, with a very languid prefer-
ence, he chose the law — in Edinburgh, the natural

B

18

EARLY YEARS.

alternative of one who had no wish to be either a doctor
or a minister. He was about eighteen years of age when
he entered the office of Messrs Mackenzie & Monypenny,
and commenced the usual training of a prospective Writer
to the Signet.

But shortly before this he had joined a more con-
genial copartnership. In 1808, Professor Jameson had
succeeded in associating with himself a few ardent culti-
vators of the natural sciences, and founded the Wernerian
Society. Its members were not numerous, but many of
them were men of high attainment. A few of them were
botanists, such as the venerable Dr William Wright, of
Jamaica, great in quassia and cinchona ; Hopkirk of Dal-
beth, the author of “ Flora Glottiana/' one of the first
attempts in Scotland to furnish a guide to the local ex-
plorer ; and Patrick Neill, whose proof-sheets used to be a
luxury to the scientific author, and whose horticultural
zeal made him a benefactor to his country. The zoolo-
gists were few ; but after the type of the founder, himself
a devoted pupil of the mighty Werner, the mineralogists
made a powerful muster ; the most ardent and assiduous
being the Rev. Dr Macknight, the most accurate and
masterly Dr Thomas Thomson, whose gruff, dry lectures
and clumsy demonstrations in chemistry still betokened
an autocratic ascendency, and crowded his class-room with
students who are now among the wealthiest manufacturers

WERNERIAN SOCIETY.

19

of Glasgow, and the most successful pharmacologists of
the world. Into this select assembly James Wilson was
admitted on the 11th of April 1812 ; and the election of
a member so youthful shews the impression which he
had already made on his friend and instructor, Professor
Jameson. The meetings were then conducted with a very
unassuming simplicity. They were held in the Professor’s
private residence, and the members sat round a long table.
On the 25th of March 1815, Mr Wilson read his first
communication. It was a description of what he believed
to be a new species of water ouzel, to which he had given
the name Aquatilis undulatus. But although the assembly
was never very numerous, it would almost appear to have
been too formidable an audience for his retiring tempera-
ment ; at least, his next communications, on the “ Cirl
Bunting,” and the “ Palconidse,” are reported as having
been read by Professor Jameson or the secretary.

Thus, from a mildly playful, affectionate childhood,
James Wilson grew up to man. And the manner of man
he was will be best understood from the following contem-
porary sketch, which we owe to the pen of the late Mr
J. G. Lockhart : —

“ I dined with Professor Jameson yesterday, with a
small party of his most distinguished pupils. Among
these there was one whom the Professor particularly intro-
duced me to, a Mr James Wilson, brother to the poet.

20

EARLY YEARS.

This young gentleman follows the profession of a Writer
to the Signet (which, as I have told you, is the name for
the highest class of attorneys in Edinburgh), but forms, as
Mr Jameson assured me, a brilliant exception to the
neglect with which matters of science are commonly
treated by the members of the profession. He is very
young, many years junior to his more celebrated brother,
and no casual observer would suspect them to be of the
same family. I have already described to you the exterior
of the poet. James is a thin, pale, slender, contemplative-
looking person, with hair of rather a dark colour, and
extremely short-sighted. In his manners, also, he is as
different as possible from his brother ; his voice is low,
and his whole demeanour as still as can be imagined. In
conversation, he attempts no kind of display, but seems
to possess a very peculiar vein of dry humour, which ren-
ders him extremely diverting. Notwithstanding all these
differences, however, I could easily trace a great similarity
in the construction of the bones of the two faces ; and,
indeed, there is nothing more easy to imagine than that,
with much of the same original powers and propensities,
some casual enough circumstances may have been suffi-
cient to decide that the one of the brothers should be a
poet and the other a naturalist. The parts of the science
of which Mr James Wilson is fondest, are ornithology and
entomology — studies so delightful to every true lover of

PETEK’S LETTERS.

21

nature, that I suspect they are, in some measure, familiar
to every poet who excels in depicting the manifestations,
and in tracing the spirit of beauty in the external uni-
verse. Professor Jameson, indeed, informed me that his
young friend is, in truth, no less a poet than a naturalist,
and has already published several little pieces of exquisite
beauty, although he has not ventured to give his name
along with them

“ I have never, indeed, met with any man who seemed
to possess a greater power of illustrating subjects of
natural history by quotations from writers of all lands,
and in particular from the poets. Milton and Words-
worth, above all, he appears to have completely by heart ;
and it was wonderfully delightful to me to hear matters
which are commonly discussed in the driest of all pos-
sible methods, treated of in so graceful a manner by one
who is so much skilled in them. Nothing could be more
refreshing than to hear some minute details about birds
and insects, interrupted and illuminated by a fragment
of grand melancholy music from the c Paradise Lost/ or
the ‘ Excursion.’ ” *

* Peter’s Letters to his Kinsfolk (1819), pp. 256-259.

,

CHAPTER II.

^ Cmtfkentd tr.

“ Are not the mountains, waves, and shies a pai't
Of me and of my soul, as I of them ?

Is not the love of these deep in my heart
With a pure passion ? Should I not contemn
All objects, if compared with these?

A tide of suffering, rather than forego and stem
Such feelings for the hard and worldly phlegm
Of those whose eyes are only turn’d below.

Gazing upon the ground, with thoughts which dare not glow ?”

— Lord Byron.

“ The things to be seen and observed are : the courts of princes, ....
armouries, arsenals, magazines, exchanges, burses, warehouses ; exercises
of horsemanship, fencing, training of soldiers, and the like ; comedies,
such whereunto the better sort of persons do resort. As for triumphs,
masks, feasts, weddings, funerals, capital executions, and such shows,
men need not to be put in mind of them; yet they are not to be
neglected. .... For quarrels, they are with care and discretion to be
avoided.” — Lord Bacon.

Mr Wilson first visited the Continent in 1816, taking
advantage of that season which confined Napoleon to St
Helena, and let Europe all abroad.

Of this tour he has preserved an ample record, filling a
large quarto volume, and written in a style of neatly fluent
penmanship, the index of a mind freely moving in its own
gracefulness. This document he often threatened to destroy,
and we have now to thank the affectionate care which
rescued it from the author’s fastidiousness. Considering
that it is the work of a young man who had not reached
the years of legal majority, we are sure the reader will
agree with us in deeming both the language and the
range of thought remarkable.

In the voyage from Leith to Rotterdam he had for his
companions three of his fellow-citizens, one of whom, Mr
David Laing, still finds appropriate scope for his anti-
quarian lore among the faded archives of the Signet
Library, and another, Mr Black, M.R, ably represents in
Parliament his native city. And on his homeward way he
was joined by friends. But most of the journey was in

2 G

A CONTINENTAL TOTJE.

solitude. Whatever else it did, this loneliness was con-
ducive to impressions deep and enduring. Over the scene
which arrested him, he could linger without any impatient
yoke-fellow pulling him away ; and in moments of ravish-
ment he could weep or shout forth his rapture without fear
of derision.

It was essentially a poet's pilgrimage. For the caveat
against quarrelling there was no need ; and we question
if, before starting, he had read the rest of Lord Bacon's
rules. His purpose and his plan are best described in the
following paragraphs : —

“ Before setting out, I had determined to remain so
totally unfettered, that I would not even prepare myself
for the journey, by renewing or completing my very imper-
fect reading acquaintance with the chief parts that I was
about to visit. I was going, in sober certainty, to view
the real scenes, the ideal images of which had been the
objects of my love — until within these few years my hope-
less love — ever since I had known what it was that I really
wished or wanted ; and I was determined to come to the
contemplation of them free from all other bias on my mind
than would be given to it by the delightful but somewhat
misty and indistinct associations which had come to it, as
it were of themselves, in my very earliest youth, and had
ever since been congregating and engendering together,
till at length they had formed a sort of colony there — a

HOW TO TRAVEL.

27

little kingdom of tlieir own, of which. Fancy was the sole
and undisputed sovereign, and in the midst of which I
could at all times take refuge from the dull and dreary
realities of common life. I determined, too, that this ideal
kingdom should never be overturned but by Nature her-
self : in fact, that I would not go among these scenes for
the purpose of forming a judgment of them for myself,
but would leave them to build up for me a fabric of their
own, in the place of the ideal one that I knew they would
destroy. I felt it to be something worse than idle to go
peeping and prying about, with a pencil and a note-book
in my hand, among the mountains of William Tell — to be
sketching trees and cottages, or scribbling nothings, in the
ideal presence of Manfred, or the real one of Mont Blanc
— to be ascertaining the exact distance from Vevay across
the lake to the rocks of Meillerie, in order to calculate
whether St Preux really could see from thence the dwelling
of Julie — to be inquiring the number of the inhabitants,
and the price of the necessaries of life, at Clarens — the
scene of that immortal kiss, the echoes of which may even
now, to an ear properly attuned, be heard mingling with
the breezes that whisper among the branches of its ches-
nut groves, or come fanning the brow — the burning brow
— of him who gazes, for the first time, on that cradle and
home and heaven of love.

“ I repeat, my determination was not only not to prepare

28

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

myself for visiting such scenes as these, but when I found
myself in the midst of them, not even to examine or record
my feelings about them, but to remain in what Wordsworth
calls a ‘wise passiveness’ — to spread open, as it were,
my mind and heart and senses to the powers and influences
that would everywhere surround me, and leave them to
work their own effects, believing that if I was worthy to
receive the benefit of such influences, they would come to
me of themselves, and remain with me ; and that if I was
not, no seekings or solicitations could entice them. I
therefore wrote nothing about them at the time — I mean,
for myself. I did not even endeavour to remember any-
thing. I read the poetry of them, as I read written poetry,
not for the purpose of criticising it, and getting particular
passages by heart, in order to talk about and quote from
it, but to feel and enjoy it ; not that I might seem wiser
and better in consequence, but that I might be so.”

VOYAGE AND FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF HOLLAND.

“We are at last safe in Rotterdam after a tedious,
though, in other respects, not an unpleasant voyage. For
the first forty hours from Leith the wind continued fresh
and fair, but on approaching the coast of Norfolk it died
away, and left us becalmed in Yarmouth Roads for the
greater part of two days. We had then a pretty expedi-
tious passage across to Holland, that is, within six or

HOLLAND.

29

eight miles of the coast, but most unfortunately the wind
then veered about, and kept us for three days and nights
off the island of Yoorn, at the mouth of the river Meuse.
After sundry delays, we finally succeeded in landing our-
selves and baggage on the left bank of the river, opposite
Brielle, upon the morning of Sunday the — July, having
been ten days on the passage. The time passed more
agreeably than I anticipated, having often pictured in my
mind the monotony of a voyage, lengthened beyond expec-
tation as ours had been, as exceedingly painful. Indeed,
the idea of existence on board of a ship, becalmed on a
breathless Indian sea, had to my mind always presented
a more dreaded image than a plague-struck city, or the
horrors of the most raging tempest, and, what is singular,
I have often in dreams leaped from the side of a vessel
into the sea, rather than be so immured. But ‘ time cures
all/ and on the tenth day, when I was about to land on
the sandy beach of Holland, I felt tolerably reconciled to
my situation, although well enough pleased to set foot on
such terra firma as this marshy country affords. At the
same time, though I felt less pain than I expected from
this marine captivity, I also experienced less pleasure.
The view of the ocean, boundless on every side, which I
beheld for the first time, is less sublime than I had
imagined, and our notions of the mighty deep are so
indefinite that there must usually be a feeling of disap-

30

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

pointment on witnessing the distinct circular line which
binds the horizon apparently at so short a distance. The
deck of the vessel being near the surface of the water, the
extent of prospect is much foreshortened, and consequently
limited ; and, I think, I have frequently seen a greater
expanse of water from the top of a high hill in the neigh-
bourhood of the sea, than can be perceived from on board
a ship. No doubt there is something impressive in the
entire absence of land, and this I felt forcibly on coming
on deck the first morning after we had lost sight of it.
The feeling, however, such as it is, arises in a great mea-
sure from novelty, and decreases day after day. During
a storm, perhaps, it may appear to greater advantage, f the
rueful sky and pageantry of fear * being more in unison
with the character of the ‘ green despot,’ and when he
alone is visible he should appear under the most appro-
priate form. The tumultuous heaving of the waves also
conceals the line of the horizon, and by shortening or ex-
tending the distances, as the vessel rises or falls, produces
greater variety in the aspect of the scene. But the glory
of sunset over a waveless sea is magnificent beyond ex-
pression— indeed, what sight in nature is equal to the
splendour of the summer sun on a fine evening, whether
on the ocean or the land ? . . . .

“ Coleridge’s description of the luminous appearance of
the sea is, I think, the most picturesque and one of the

A DUTCH SERMON.

31

most accurate I have ever read. Having the passage by
my side in a note to one of his volumes, as extracted from
The Friend, I cannot help transcribing it here : —

“ ‘ A beautiful white cloud of foam at momentary in-
tervals coursed by the side of the vessel with a roar, and
little stars of flame danced, and sparkled, and went out in
it, and every now and then light detachments of this white,
cloud-like foam darted off from the vessel’s side, each with
its own small constellation, over the sea, and scoured out
of sight like a Tartar troop over the wilderness/

“We had a pleasant walk from the town of Maasland-
sluis, near which we landed, to Rotterdam, a distance of
nine miles, or according to the Dutch computation, of
three hours. Such of the natives as I have seen are clean
and neat in their attire beyond conception. We were
particularly fortunate in arriving upon a Sunday, as every
one was moving under his, her, and its best attire and
most demure comitenance. We entered the church of
Maaslandsluis immediately on our arrival in that town,
and were much edified by an excellent sermon in Dutch,
pronounced with great emphasis, and listened to with
suitable devotion. The interior of the church is very
grand, in common, I understand, with most others in
Holland, and contains a very superb organ, the tone of
which, I have no doubt, was very fine, but as each member
of the congregation sung a most vociferous and open-

32

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

mouthed accompaniment, my sense of hearing was com-
pletely deadened, in so far as regarded the perception of
more delicate sounds. Among the ornaments which sur-
rounded the organ, there were a number of little angels
playing the fiddle, apparently in a very masterly style.”

THE STORKS.

“ Delft, July 23. — One of the most interesting and pic-
turesque features which I have yet witnessed in the
scenery of Holland is the appearance of the storks on the
chimney-tops, preening their feathers, and feeding then-
callow young. The snowy whiteness of their plumage,
and their elegant and stately forms, have a fine effect
amidst the confusion of a populous and bustling city.
This bird, like the ibis among the ancient Egyptians, is
considered sacred by the Hollanders. It is never killed or
disturbed, however familiar or troublesome it may prove,
and that dwelling is considered as fortunate on which it
chooses to take up its abode. The young are, however,
sometimes captured and sold to slavery, which seems in
some degree inconsistent with the veneration which is
paid to the personal dignity of the parent bird. I am told
that they observe an astonishing regularity in their migra-
tions to and from the country. They usually make their
appearance in spring, towards the end of March, and
depart in the autumn, about the beginning of September.

STOEKS.

33

They are said to winter in Egypt and the north of Africa.
Yesterday evening, which was beautifully calm and serene,
when the sun had sunk, and dim twilight overspread the
land, I found myself alone in a churchyard : not a voice
was audible to disturb the utter solitude and silence with
which I was surrounded. A soft and winnowing sound
in the air suddenly attracted my attention, and imme-
diately a beautiful pair of storks alighted in the church-
yard, within a few paces of the place where I then stood.
It was a mild and dewy night, and they were no doubt
attracted there by the expectation of a plentiful supper on
the slugs and insects which might have left their hiding-
places, My unexpected presence, however, seemed to dis-
turb them ; for, in a few seconds, they mounted to the
steeple of the church, where they sat, uttering their wild
and singularly plaintive cries, which added greatly to
those impressions of loneliness and seclusion which the
situation tended naturally to inspire. Besides the usual
note, I observe these birds make a singular noise, appar-
ently by striking the two mandibles of the bill forcibly
against each other. This, too, in the silence of a summer
night, during which it is usually made, and when heard
from the top of some lofty cathedral — a name which most
of the churches in Holland deserve to bear — produces a
fine effect ; and is, indeed, in my mind, already intimately
connected with those undefinable sensations, the remnants

34

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

as it were of the superstitions of our infancy, which, I
believe, most men experience while wandering alone and
in darkness, among those venerable piles which have been
for so many ages consecrated to the purposes of religion.
But I must for the present bid adieu to those ‘ dwellers
in the temple/ though what I have said is due to their
memory, from the pleasure which they afforded me during
one beautiful evening of summer."

DELFT AND ITS MONUMENTS.

“Delft is said to be an ancient town, and so it appears;
for the canals are green and stagnant, and the streets
narrow, except at the great central square, which is cer-
tainly not insignificant.

“Here I visited the principal church, which is well
worthy of inspection for its own intrinsic excellence, and
still more so on account of the remains of many illustrious
men which it contains, and the superb monuments which
a grateful country has erected to their memory.

“ The church itself is very large, and is divided in the
interior by two ranges of magnificent arched pillars ; and
there are no galleries to diminish the grandeur produced
by the great height of the walls and the vaulting of the

noble roof.

“ The monuments are worthy of being held in undying
remembrance. Indeed, I have somewhere read that Delft

DELFT.

35

might be considered as the Westminster of Holland, on
'■ account of the remains of warriors and of learned men
which it contains. In the centre of one compartment of
the church stands the splendid mausoleum of William the
■First, Prince of Orange, a man who is justly considered as
the founder of Dutch liberty, and whose memory is re-
veled throughout the land. It is the finest monument in
Holland, and is thought by some competent judges to
present one of the most perfect specimens of architectural
magnificence in Europe.

It consists of a square base of white marble and bronze,
and of a beautiful canopy of similar materials, supported
by four alabaster pillars. Between the two pillars facing
the great organ sits a bronze statue of the prince, in com-
plete armour, seemingly occupied in the administration of
justice. On his right side there is a fine statue of the
goddess of Liberty, and on his left stands Justice with her
scales. The former struck me as being the more beautiful ;
it is a production of real genius, and the greater is the
pity that a work so perfect should be deformed by any-
thing incongruous or absurd.

‘ That ft is true ’tis pity, and pity ’tis ’tis true.’

But either the evil star of the artist has, in an inauspicious
hour, darkened the light of his genius, or some patriotic
son of Batavia, intent on immortality, has generously
offered himself as the amender of a work, which, from the

36

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

improvement suggested by him, he could not possibly
understand ; for over the left hand of the beautiful crea-
ture before mentioned is placed a ponderous chapeau-bras ,
richly gilded, and sufficiently large, in the eye of taste and
feeling, to overshadow one-half of the mausoleum itself,
though, no doubt, in the opinion of its infatuated manu-
facturer, spreading a halo light through every corner of
the edifice. Above the canopy there is a large and beau-
tiful alabaster urn, on which a suit of armour of white
marble, and of most exquisite workmanship, is placed;
and near it, the prince is represented stretched upon his
tomb. At his feet there is the figure of the dog which, at
a former period, having saved his life, by awakening him
when his tent was beset by Spaniards, is reported to have
refused all sustenance after the death of its beloved master.
This great prince, if my memory serves me, was assassi-
nated by a native of Burgundy, who shot him in the breast
with three balls, when he was descending his own staircase
after dinner. The assassin, whose name was Balthazar G4-
rard, was supposed to have been instigated on the one hand
by the machinations of some diabolical monks, and on the
other, allured by the gold and by the promises of the perfi-
dious Philip. Gdrard, like many other villains, was well en-
dowed with personal courage ; and, with a resolution worthy
of a better cause, he sacrificed his own life in order to destroy
this famous restorer and protector of religious liberty. . . . -

THE TOMB OF GROTIUS.

37

“ To the left of this beautiful structure is the grave of
Grotius, with a monument ; but paltry in comparison with
the former. It consists chiefly of a large medallion, repre-
senting the head of Grotius, in white marble, and a child
leaning upon an inverted torch. As the medallion is con-
sidered as very like him, he must have been an ugly man.
This city is the place of his birth.

“ At the other end of the church, in a lonely corner, lie
the remains of Leeuwenhoek, famous for his microscopical
discoveries. Over his cold earth a plain monument is
erected by his daughter, with a simple though beautiful
inscription in Latin. I was pleased by the utter stillness
of this corner of the church ; it felt like a place where the
person whose ashes it contained would have delighted to
pursue his beautiful discoveries unmolested by the world,
and in death accorded well with the gentle spirit of him
whose life was peace/’

THE SPIRE AT DELFT, AND THE STORKS AGAIN.

“ From this elevated situation I had a fine view of my
old friends the storks, all busily employed in feeding their
young. I could even keep them in sight during their ex-
cursions to the neighbouring canals, in search of food for
their unfledged offspring. The impatience of the callow
nestlings on perceiving the approach of the assiduous
parent, was extreme. They stretched their long necks

38

A CONTINENTAL TOUE.

over the nests from the chimney- tops, the sooner to enjoy
the wished-for morsel, and appeared every moment as if
about to precipitate themselves into the streets below.
En passant, I may remark that when in Rotterdam, I
questioned a Dutchman concerning the probable origin of
the respect and protection which is afforded to this bird ;
he answered, as I expected, that it was on account of their
clearing the canals of frogs and other amphibious gentry
with which they abound. I had not, however, proceeded
ten yards after Mynheer had left me, when I observed an
old woman sitting under a tree, with a most excellent sup-
ply of frogs in a basket, ready for sale, and. in fact before
I left her, a girl came up ‘ nothing loth/ and made a pur-
chase. If, therefore, frogs are in request as an article of
food, as it is known they have been for centuries, no thanks
are due to the storks for their efforts in diminishing their
number, and as, in as far as I have heard or read, there
are no noxious or' poisonous animals in the country, it is
probable that the popular superstition in favour of these
birds must have originated in some other cause. Besides,
it is generally admitted that still waters stagnate sooner
when deprived of animal life than when teeming with
aquatic myriads, so that their claims to protection as puri-
fiers of the water, are at best of a dubious nature. They
may, however, act as a check to the superabundant pro-
duction of such creatures during the heats of summer, the

THE EXPLOSION AT LEYDEN.

39

increase of which, is no doubt favoured by the natural
moisture of the soil and climate.”

LEYDEN AND THE GEEAT EXPLOSION.

“ July 25. — In this church lie the remains of Gerard de
Meerman, a well-known bibliographer. This man died of
fright, in consequence of the explosion which took place
here on the 12th of January 1807* A French vessel from
Amsterdam for Delft, lying in the canal Van Eappenberg,
in the centre of the city, laden with ten thousand pounds
weight of gunpowder, blew up about five o'clock in the
afternoon, killed some hundreds of the inhabitants, de-
stroyed great part of the town, and produced the utmost
havoc and consternation. My servant told me he heard
the noise at Amsterdam, two-and-twenty miles off. Many
of the inhabitants were sitting at dinner, and perished
among the ruins of their dwellings, with their wives
and children. A Jewish school suffered considerably ;
sixteen of the children were blown up. A charity school
near it was also destroyed, with all its inmates. Fifty
children at a boarding-school narrowly escaped by the col-
lision of two walls which supported the roof, only two of
these were crushed to death, and a third perished with
fright in its father’s arms. Those who were saved rushed

* There is here some mistake. Gerard Meerman died in 1771, and
John Meerman lived many years after the fatal explosion of 1807. — Ed.

40

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

into the court-yard, and the meeting there of parents and
children is described to have been terrible. The windows
of my bed-room command a view of this very spot, and
of what I at first thought a fine park, with a canal, and
trees, and pleasant walks. I did not then know that this
was where the explosion had taken place, and that at one
period it was the most populous quarter of the city.”

THE LIBRARY AT LEYDEN.

“ In the course of my peregrinations I formed an ac-
quaintance with a bookseller of some intelligence, whose
name I forget. He is librarian to the University, and
curator of its valuable Greek and Latin and Oriental
manuscripts, and obligingly offered me an inspection of

every object of curiosity under his charge I went

to the library, where I found my newly acquired friend
true to his appointment. He shewed me many old books
worthy of attention, and sundry manuscripts of exceeding
beauty, great age, and exquisite perfection. A manuscript
copy of the Iliad, written on vellum, and richly illuminated,
deserves inspection ; also an illuminated copy of Virgil, on
the same material. Divers MSS. of Dutchmen, with long
names of great celebrity, of whom I had never before
heard a syllable, were shewn me ; and many books with
the annotations of Scaliger, and a MS. holograph of that
author, besides many others, each worthy of a volume.

wood’s wokks. 41

“ I must never cease to remember the ingenious and
valuable present of the late king, Louis Bonaparte, to the
collection of the library. It is the work of a German, and
consists of 135 volumes formed of wood. The binding of
each book is formed of a different tree ; the back is orna-
mented with pieces of the bark, and such mosses, lichens,
and other parasitical plants, as characterise the species.
Each volume opens, as it were, in the centre of the leaves,
and contains the bud, leaves, flower, fruit, farina, and
every other part in any degree illustrative of the nature
of the tree. It affords a complete and scientific exempli-
fication of 135 trees, beginning with the oaks and ending
with the juniper; and, in fact, may be considered as a
brief and perfect epitome of the German groves and forests.
In the case of plants, such as the rose and juniper, the
ligneous parts of which are not sufficiently large for the
purposes required, the binding is formed of some ordinary
wood, sprinkled over with fine moss, and then elegantly
barred with the rose or juniper wood, giving the volume
the appearance of a valuable old manuscript with iron
clasps. On the whole, it is one of the most ingenious and
complete productions I have ever seen.

“ My friend the librarian was, I found, one of the chief
causes of the most valuable manuscripts in the collection
not being transferred to Paris. He was continued in
office during the administration of the French, and being

42

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

naturally inimical to that nation, he endeavoured, by every
device in his power, to elude their rapacity, and to prevent
the manuscripts from being seen by the savans who visited
Leyden. One professor was appointed by Bonaparte, and
took up his residence in the city, with the avowed and
express purpose of procuring whatever was rare or curious,
for the adornment of the capital of the great nation. The
keys were frequently demanded from our friend for the
purposes of investigation, and the demand was as often
eluded by him, under the pretence of their being in the
charge of some professor or other, who was either confined
by sickness or under the necessity of residing a few
clays in the country. In this manner the matter was
fortunately delayed until the great and unexpected
revolution took place, which rendered such precautions
unnecessary; and the chief actor in the scheme, who
seems passionately fond of the black letter, has happily
survived to enjoy the fruits of his resolute and praise-
worthy conduct.”

A PIOUS FRAUD.

“Antwerp, August 1. — By the by, the most ingenious
piece of devotion of which I have heard for some time,
took place here not long since, as I was informed by an
ingenious merchant of the city with whom I supped the
other evening. A respectable woman with an infant in

A SPIRITUAL FATHER. IN A FIX.

43

lier arms entered the cathedral one morning when the
priest was alone, making the altar neat and tidy, and
scraping off some spots of wax which had fallen the pre-
ceding nidit. The woman addressed him in a most
earnest and affecting manner, and with due humility
unfolded her tale of sorrow. Her child, she said, was
suffering under some mortal malady, the skill of the leech
had been applied in vain, and she was at last convinced
that nothing could save her beauteous babe from the jaws
of death but being placed for a moment in the arms of
her tutelary saint. The saint’s name I forget, but he was
stuck up in a niche of the wall, with a neat balcony before
him, in the form of a goodly marble statue. The priest
was at last moved by her entreaties ; he procured a ladder
and ascended to the sacred niche, entered the balcony and
placing the babe in the arms of the statue, he asked the
grateful mother if she was satisfied. ‘Perfectly so/ said
the lady, and, carefully removing the ladder, she walked
coolly out of the church, leaving her rosy infant, the
astonished priest, and the unconscious saint, all equally
elevated, there to remain till the next brother of the com-
munity should arrive.”

WATERLOO.

“Brussels, August 3-5. — The first thing which an
Englishman is expected, and, indeed, in a great measure

44?

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

obliged to do on arriving here, is to betake himself to
Waterloo.

‘ Westward from Brussels lies the field of blood.

Some two hours’ journey for a well-girt man;

A horseman who in haste pursues his road,

Would reach it ere the second hour began.’

“ So says the Laureate. Being neither a well-girt man,
nor a horseman, I hired a voiture and departed. On this
subject, as on all others on which so much has been said,
and sometimes well said, by others, I shall say little. I
spent three hours on the bloody spot. The field itself now
bears scarce a trace of the fierce encounter. It is in a state
of high cultivation, and covered with fine crops of beans
and peas, and various kinds of grain, and as the divisions
of the farms here are much more extensive than with us,
it cannot be traversed this year with the same facility as last.
There are, however, footpaths crossing over some of the
more elevated parts, from which a tolerable view may be
obtained at certain points. One feature of the vegeta-
tion is from the first very apparent, and when the cause
is known, produces an impressive effect. In many parts
of the field the grain is of a darker green and higher
growth than in others, and appears at a distance as if the
rays of the sun had been intercepted by dense clouds, but
beneath these spots lie the thousands who perished in the
fight, and whose bodies were buried where they felL If,
however, nature has resumed her sway in the fields, the

WATERLOO.

45

houses of Hougoumont still present a most direful spectacle.
The walls are for the most part blackened and in ruins,
and such parts as remain bear terrible signs of destruction
and death. They are pierced by cannon-balls and marked
with bullets on every side, and many of the latter are
still lodged in the half-burned beams which support the
blighted remains of what were once human dwellings.
The court-door is actually riddled, and the shot appears
to have poured in from every direction. It was among
these buildings that the most terrible and most individual
fighting was maintained, and with what obstinacy on both
sides may be seen from the face of things, were there no
other proof. The well-known, garden, with its little wood,
which was attacked from so many points at once, was
very interesting, although it now bears a very different
aspect from what it did when the fight was done. Every-
thing is neat and in order, the roses are in full blow, and
the small fantastic parterres of flowers, all in their bright
array, seemed strangely placed so near the houses of deso-
lation. The surrounding trees, however, are credible wit-
nesses of the bloody fray ; most of them are pierced with
bullets, and many have had branches and large pieces of
the bark and wood carried away by cannon-balls. The spot
is particularly pointed out where it is said that an officer
and seven men were killed by one shot. It must evidently
have been a spent ball, and shot from a distance, though

46

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

probably a very heavy one ; for at the place the garden is
defended by two walls, — the outer one and that which was
next the French artillery is higher than the inner, yet it
remains untouched, whereas there is the space of a foot
on the top of the inner, near which the men were ranged,
which is entirely driven in. There is the skull and arm-
bone of a Frenchman sticking in the wall near this ; and
in another part of the garden the shoulder-blade of an
English officer, who was buried there, is seen projecting
from the ground, and still connected to the body by strong

ligaments The person who shewed me the grounds

of Hougoumont was in the house during the battle. A boy
whom I saw told me he remained at home till two in the
afternoon ; but supposing the house might be set on fire, he
set off for the wood with all speed, and, as he himself said,
almost blind with fear, he had to cross a good part of the
field of battle. All the women and children, as well from
Hougoumont as the neighbouring villages, took refuge in
the wood of Soignies. Such of the peasants as I conversed
with denied having plundered the dead bodies during the
night, alleging that it was done by the other soldiers.
At Antwerp I supped with a gentleman who was on the
field two days after the battle ; it was covered with the
dead and dying, and almost all the former, and several
of the latter, were completely stripped. Many of the
wounded, who had received no sustenance since the day

AN ALTERCATION.

47

of the battle, were offering the peasants five francs for a
drink of water.”

ST DIE — MORN AMID THE MOUNTAINS.

“Sept. 10. — We halted for the night at St Die. Here
there was for a time a slight interruption of that calm
and placid state of things which to me is so inseparable
from enjoyment. A French officer, who was now pretty
far advanced in intoxication, had, it seems, engaged a
chaise to carry him from St Die,, at a certain hour, to a
certain place. When that hour arrived, the vehicle came
to the door as was meet, but the officer, who had indulged
pretty freely during supper, felt himself so comfortable in
his situation that he determined to remain where he was,
and accordingly ordered the postilion to return in the
morning. Now, by the laws of posting in this country, it
is ordained, that he who orders a chaise to the door for
the purpose of undertaking any journey, must either
adhere to his intention or defray one half of the charges
which would have been incurred in the event of the pro-
posed journey being completed. But the gentleman in
question refused to do either, and swore by his sabre that
he should pass the night at St Die. This, of course, led
to much altercation, on both sides, which, while it lasted,
was quite sufficient to interrupt all comfort. The maitre-
des-postes was at length sent for, and confirmed the position

48

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

maintained by tlie postilion, that a payment of one half
must be made before he could take his departure. In the
meantime, the knight of the sabre became sober, and the
interposition of magisterial authority being talked of, he
thought it better to decamp ; so, yielding to the impor-
tunities of mine host, who feared the disgust which his
conduct might occasion to the other guests, he suffered
himself to be half conducted, half dragged, into the chaise,
and was soon whirled out of sight by the triumphant
postilion, amid the shouts of a dozen or two of idle
people, whom his noisy protestations had assembled at
the door.

“ I sat in the window of my bed-room for some hours
after the inhabitants of the house had retired to rest. It
was a heavenly night — the moon just appearing from the
side of a dark and steep mountain. She threw her pale
light over a beautiful valley, in the centre of which there
flowed a rapid stream, the rushing sound of which was
distinctly audible. One or two white cottages were visible
on the opposite side of the valley, near the outskirts of a
thick wood, which extended upwards to the base of a long
range of irregular and broken cliffs. These terminated
the view; and above their highest peak, there was one
brilliant star which, though lovely as any among the in-
numerable constellations which surroimded it, appeared to
belong more to earth than to heaven ; and but for its clear

PASSION FOE MOUNTAINS.

49

and constant ray, it might have been deemed a beacoii
light among the mountain tops.

“ I was much delighted at the prospect of so soon breath-
ing the mountain air. I retired to bed when the moon
had sunk behind the cliffs, anticipating much pleasure
from crossing the mountain-chain on the ensuing morn.
Indeed, my passion for ascending to the tops of hills would
almost induce me to believe in the transmigration of the
human soul, and that, having been at some former period
a chamois-hunter, or shepherd among the Alps, I, still
retain, in the debased spirit of an attorney’s clerk, a
fellowship with those sublime impressions which, in
another state, probably constituted the very essence of
my existence.

“ 11th. — With this day’s journey I was not disappointed,
though, from the accounts of a fellow-traveller, my expec-
tations had been much excited. Leaving St Die at four
in the morning, we, ere long, entered a narrow valley
between two high and precipitous mountains, at the base
of which were many romantic cottages. The sides of
these mountains were well clothed with pines, and the
summits composed of gray and castellated rocks, tenanted
by the eagle alone. On arriving at the head of the valley
all exit seems impossible. Eocks on rocks arise, as if to
bid defiance to the power and ingenuity of man. The

mists of the morning were still resting on the bosom of

D

50

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

the valley, and mid-way upon the hills ; but higher up, and
gray with the moss of years, with here and there a solitary
pine, endeavouring to maintain the empire of vegetation,
the summits lifted their venerable tops clear and unob-
scured to heaven. Ere long these snowy vapours, ‘ into
their airy elements resolved, were gone/ and we beheld a
road tortuously winding up the sides of a mountain among
crags and torrents, by which we were to ascend to the head
of an adjoining valley. We here left the carriage, and
pursuing a nearer and more direct route, after a pretty
arduous ascent, gained the summit of the mountain.
What a glorious view was now before our eyes ! never
shall I forget the valley of St Marie.

“ The mountain air usually acts upon me like the famous
elixir. I feel as if I were inhaling life, and strength, and
immortality at every breath. The higher I ascend the
happier I become ; and when I reach the topmost summit,
a singular feeling prompts me to spring upwards and leave
the earth. It was this which made me inquire so anxiously
when in Paris concerning the possibility of ascending with
some of the aeronauts, and I greatly deplored the dis-
appointment, when I learned that my hopes were frus-
trated. In the present case, the change in my state of
mind was sudden and remarkable, and when I contrasted
my feelings, while breathing with pain and difficulty the
tainted air of a corrupted city, with those which I ex-

BRISSAC.

51

perienced as a joyful mountaineer, I could scarcely credit
my personal identity. A few days ago I was groping my
way, by the pale light of a trembling taper, through the
damp catacombs of Paris, surrounded by millions of grim
grinning skulls, placed crossways and in circles, as if
in derision of human life ; and now I was breathing the
natural and balmy breath of heaven, and standing on the
verge of a valley so beautiful, that peace and happiness
must surely dwell in it for ever.’'’

BRISSAC AND THE FIRST SIGHT OF THE RHINE.

“ loth. — Towards the afternoon of this day I hired a
char-a-banc, which is an open carriage in common use
here, and proceeded on my journey towards Brissac, a
Trench town on the banks of the Rhine. Mungo Park
himself could scarcely have experienced a stronger desire
to behold the yellow Niger, than I did to see the boundary
of c the mighty Germany/ Arriving at Brissac, I entered
three gates, crossed over three fosses, passed under three
portcullises, and had my passport examined by an old
gentleman who could neither read Prench, German, nor
Dutch, the only three languages of which it was composed.
He seemed to consider it chiefly in the light of Hebrew,
as he began at the end, and then turned it upside down.
A few francs were sufficient to convince him how forlorn
his hopes were of becoming a linguist at so advanced a

52

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

period of life. There are here two towns of the same
name. The Trench Brissac is two or three miles from the
river side, so I determined that same evening to depart for
the German border. The German town, called Alt-Brissac,
is built upon a high and rocky promontory of the river,
and presents a formidable aspect, though now in a state
of great dilapidation, having been dismantled by an
opposite fortress during the Trench wars. It has still a
noble appearance, and forms a fine representative of its
mighty country,

‘With gray but leafy walls, where ruin greenly dwells.’

“ At six in the evening I found myself standing by the
side of the monarch of European rivers, and a most magni-
ficent object it is. Here it is not less than six hundred feet
broad, and runs apparently at the rate of nearly seven
miles an hour. Immediately opposite the German fortress
its waters are confined within two hundred feet of their na-
tural bed, and the impetuous flow is prodigious ; it rages past
the dark rock which here endeavours to oppose its course,
and appears as if rejoiced in avenging this violation of its
power on the low willowy isles which are scattered on its
bosom. The trees on these islands have suffered from its
force, and bend before it, their summits being only a few
feet from the ground, and pointing down the stream.
Even those on the banks have the same oppressed appear-
ance, having probably felt the power of the green despot

THE RHINE.

53

during the raging of the winter flood. This gives a
singular character to many parts of the scenery, and
impresses one more forcibly than any other circumstance
could do with an idea of the strength and rapidity of the
river, besides bestowing upon it the aspect of an almost
living power.

“ The sun was now sinking behind the purple summits
of the mountains of Lorraine, the outline of which was
bordered by a brilliant line of golden light, and many
lovely clouds, adorned with the brightest hues, were
resting in the western sky. The Rhine appeared in the
distance, sweeping down the valley, and reflecting on its
waters the last beams of the god of day, while, on the
opposite side, was heard the voice of the sentinel, and the
war-like flourish of the trumpet, warning the peaceful
labourers in the fields that the gates of the fortress were
about to be closed. In the back-ground the high hills of
Suabia were visible, embrowned with the remnants of the
ancient forest, and their broad expanse rendered more
magnificent as seen through the medium of the sultry
twilight. Ere long the clouds of night descended on the
valley ; the course of the river was now only discernible
by a vast serpentine wreath of mist which gathered on its
waters, though its strong and sonorous flow was distinctly
audible, ‘ piercing the night’s dull ear/ and the wild note
of the bittern was heard while she ascended from her

54

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

lonely nest in some willowy isle to tlie still region above
the clouds. Without other sight or sound I stood alone
in this majestic wilderness. I soon found, however, that
I had unfortunately wandered so long and so far among
the low brushwood near the river, that I had entirely lost
all trace of anything resembling the footsteps of the human
race. If I turned towards the land I might walk into one
of those deep pools filled with water to defend the frontier
— if I bent my course in the other direction, one step into
the Ehine would be my first and last, and I might find
myself off the Dogger-bank by the morning of the ensuing
day. What was to be done ? I was about to ruminate
seriously on this important subject, when I heard the
vociferous shout of a ferryman within a few yards of my
forlorn post. I accosted him in good Scotch and bad
French, supposing if he were a German he would probably
understand the one, if a Frenchman, possibly the other.
He seemed to comprehend both, and with his assistance
and direction I succeeded in returning to the town which
I had left a few hours before, my head-quarters for the
night.’"

I

PPwE-EUSKINITE REMARKS ON LANDSCAPE-PAINTING, AND

A GHOST STORY.

Next to Wordsworth’s Poems, there were few books
which Mr Wilson received with such ardour, and read

THE SPIRIT OF LANDSCAPE.

55

with such self-abandonment, as the writings of Ruskin.
Indeed, the fourth volume of “ Modern Painters ” was the
last volume he perused, and from which he made extracts
into his commonplace book. Passages like the following,
and others which will hereafter occur, shew how early
thoughts had passed through his own mind akin to those
which from Turner's great idolater have since found fierce
and eloquent expression : —

“Sept. 13. — Departing from Brissac after breakfast, I
returned to the French town of the same name, and having
arranged matters to our mutual satisfaction, I set out in a
neat char-a-banc with one strong athletic horse, under the
guidance of a Frenchman, who had had the honour of being
one of Bonaparte's postilions during the Russian campaign.
We travelled along the banks of the Rhine, through a dis-
trict of finely varied aspect, sometimes close to the river,
at other times at some distance from it, and reached the
confines of Switzerland about sunset. It was a beautiful
calm evening, with a sky such as Claude would have
painted. All things lay in the still reposing beauty which
characterises the works of that famous artist, and subdued
and mellowed by the almost visible air which hung around
them. It is this aerial and transparent veil which, to my
mind, forms the pervading spirit of landscape, and the
difficulty of representing it, or its influence and effects,
may be one great cause of the rarity with which anything

56

A CONTINENTAL TOUE.

like a perfect triumph has hitherto accompanied the efforts
of the painter. He can bring together an untroubled sky,
a serene ocean, a smiling landscape ; but that forming
spirit which pervades and encircles the appearances of
nature can scarcely be regarded as an attribute of human
genius. Indeed, what imagination can conjure up scenes
so enchanting as those which nature displays with such
lavish profusion in every region of the earth? In the
most inspired dream of creative fancy, or the most suc-
cessful effort of imitative art, the objects, lovely though
they may often be, always possess some qualities which
hinder them from blending together into one just pro-
portioned picture, and the scene thus raised or depicted
partakes of the narrowness of mortal power. It is other-
wise, however, with the representations of the human face
divine ; for this branch of the art seems to bear away the
palm from nature herself. How many beautiful coun-
tenances are visible in every large town in Europe ! but
where is the one among them all which can bear a com-
parison with a fine Madonna of Raphael ? Yet what land-
scape painter has ever given the far-receding splendour of
the western sky which almost every fine summer evening
affords ? At the same time Claude, Turner, and Thomson
are each an honour to his age and country ; there are
some fine conceptions of aerial grandeur in the wild com-
binations of cloud and vapour in some of Schetky’s skies ;

ATMOSPHERE — PAINTING.

57

and I have little doubt that when Williams returns to his
native land, the contents of his portfolio will create asso-
ciations in the breast of every true lover of nature, not
unworthy the calm glory of a Grecian autumn, or the
evening splendour which invests the blue mountains of
Friuli.

“ But I forget my own picture while reflecting on those
of others. I have said that the sky was such as Claude
would have rejoiced to imitate. There was a mild and
almost breathless stillness in the air, which he alone knew
how to represent, although all who have studied the finest
features of landscape must be aware, that it is to this we
owe some of our most delightful and harmonious percep-
tions, while contemplating the beauty of external nature.

‘ A harmony.

So do I call it, though it be the land
Of silence, though there be no voice.’ —

“ The battlements of a strongly fortified city were seen
at some height in the distance, their square lines broken
by deep masses of wood ; while in the nearer ground there
were open groves, with green fields intersected by irregular
footpaths, and scattered cottages partly concealed by large
single trees. We were in the neighbourhood of Basle, the
frontier town ; but the gates were unfortunately closed
for the night, so we were forced to remain in a small
village on the outside of the walls. My excursion this

58

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

day, considered geographically, was rather curious, as I
had passed the morning in France, the forenoon in Ger-
many, and the evening in Switzerland.

“ Having solaced myself with a good supper, and a bottle
of Burgundy, and not feeling inclined to sleep, I thought
it better to take a ramble for an hour or two, though it
was now not far from midnight. I accordingly set out,
and having walked several miles, I at last found myself, by
the side of an ancient ruin of simple structure, which, I
immediately convinced myself, must be the remains of a
druidical temple. A few pale withered stumps of the
mountain ash stood, together in a row like the remains of
some forlorn hope, and accorded well with the fancy which
had entered my mind, as these trees are known to have
been in ancient times religiously dedicated to protect and
overshadow such buildings. Everything around me was
bleak and desolate, and scarcely one relic of ancient gran-
deur assisted the imagination in peopling it with the
spirits of the elder time. Yet the very idea of being upon
the spot where the hoary Druid ruminated the mysteries
of his religion, where the cromlek streamed with human
blood, where the shady grove moaned with the cries of
convulsive death, or where the sword of the Roman soldier
put a period to the reign of this horrid infatuation — the
very idea of this, even when entering the mind amid
scenery ill calculated to excite emotions of any kind, con-

A “ PHANTOM OF FRIGHT.” ' 59

tained something that awakened many a long train of
recollected thought, and subjected the soul to the tem-
porary dominion of superstitious awe. I had already
walked several cheerless miles, with my imagination full
of those images which solitude and fancy suggest, and was
now resting on an old mouldering ruin, which, whether
druidical or not, had doubtless one day witnessed many a
fearful sight. Not a soul was near— the Rhine was heard
wailing in the distance, the night-wind moaned through
the chinks of the wall, and the moon, almost hid in clouds,
gave a ■wild and uncertain light. What rendered my
thoughts more solemn, was my ignorance of the part of
the country I was in ; for I had left the main road, and
wandered over heaths and commons for some time. A
peculiar creaking noise attracted my attention, and my
astonishment and horror may be more easily imagined
than described, when on looking up I beheld within a few
yards the ghastly spectre of a human body. My fancied
Druids vanished into thin air, and I sat for some moments
rooted to the spot. Ere long, however, my resolution re-
turned, and on investigating this horrible phantom, I dis-
covered it to be no ‘ unreal mockery,’ but the skeleton of
a man in chains. I returned to the village with some
difficulty, and got to bed about daylight.”

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

60

THE PEDESTRIAN’S ADVANTAGE.

“ Sept. 1 6. — On leaving Basle I need not say how sorry
I was. I had there only passed two little days, but they
were pleasant and happy ones ; and though I should live
many a long year, I don’t think I shall ever forget them.
My regret, however, at leaving it, gradually wore away as
I proceeded on my journey to Lauffenburg, for every step
I took discovered some new beauty. The road winds along
a number of little valleys, caused by the wooded hills which
form the banks of the Rhine ; and as often as the traveller
turns about, he beholds a beautiful extent of country be-
hind him, covered with hanging woods, and either swelling
into lofty hills, or sinking into deep dells with the most
delightful variety. A number of lovely cottages scattered
through the vales, and glimmering amid the trees, present
continual objects for admiration, and each one becomes
envied till a more beautiful one appears. So delighted
was I with this walk, that though many leagues long, I
scarcely knew where I was till it was over, and then I
could not help wishing that I had to perform it again.
There is certainly something in the noise and motion of a
carriage, which prevents the mind from feeling excited by
rural scenery in the way in which I feel mine to be when
my body is unconfined. That calm and placid breathing
of nature which every one must have seen and felt who has
walked alone through a fine country, cannot be enjoyed

PEDESTRIAN PLEASURES.

61

except on foot. The face of nature bears a different aspect,
and the cracking of the coachman’s whip is sufficient to
dissolve the charm, and cause

‘ The silence that is in the starry sky.

The sleep that is among the lonely hills/

to vanish. But on foot everything makes an impression
— every winding of a river, and each beautiful tree,

‘ And the shrill matin song ,

Of birds from every bough/

make the soul feel all the intoxication of delight. These
are intellectual pleasures of a high and noble order ; but
there are others of a less dignified, though equally essen-
tial nature. I mean the delight of finding one’s-self in a
comfortable inn, after a long walk, the fatigue of which,
though by no means painfully perceptible at the time, is
generally quite sufficient to render bodily repose most
grateful, and the increased relish which is bestowed on
everything which reminds one of the immortal Beauvilliers,
and the peerless Robert.”

LAUFFENBURG.

“ Sept. 17. — Of Lauffenburg, where I now am, what
shall I say ? That it is by far the most delightful little
spot I ever saw. When I entered it I thought, Have I
lived so long and never heard of this paradise ? How many
places are there in this world most lovely, that those at a

02 '

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

distance know nothing of ? Even in my waking dreams,
when my fancy has combined in one scene every beauteous
image that memory could supply — when the imperfections
of reality mingled not with the fairy creation, and the
spirit of loveliness was spread over the quiet glades of
solitude, a more heavenly picture never charmed my wan-
dering soul. Indeed, what imagination can conjure up a
scene so enchanting as those which have started most beau-
tiful 'from the hand of Nature, and when art with cautious
touch has opened up the charms that are secret, without
defacing those that are obvious and striking? In the
blessed moments of holy meditation, mortal beings can
indeed partake of heavenly powers, but a wide distance
must exist even then between the aspiring efforts of frail
mortality and the unlaboured sublimity of universal Intel-
ligence. During the dreams of the soul, which our hopes
and wishes create, and our reason is unable to destroy, I
have wished to retire from the loud and stirring world,
and among the loveliness of some far removed valley to
pass the days that fate may have assigned me. Even when
engaged in the busy scenes of social life, the thought of
this has passed wildly over my heart, and at the same time
a cold trembling fear that such wishes can never be realised.
But if such a visionary scheme were indeed to be fulfilled,
where could I be happier than where I now am ? So sweet
is this spot, that the very winds of heaven seem slowly and

SCHAFFHAUSEN.

63

fondly to float over it, and the little summer birds sing
more cheerily amid its holy solitude. Since I have seen
it, I have not been conscious of feeling any emotion allied
to evil ; and what could make the heart evil disposed amid
such general peace and happiness ?”

SCHAFFHAUSEN.

“ Sept. 19. — On Wednesday I departed, before the mists
of the morning had risen from the valley, and pursued my
route to Schaffhausen. An old ruined castle was seen on
the brow of a steep hill, with white clouds breaking around
it in a very picturesque style. I crossed one or two small
streams, with antique mossy bridges, but the majestic river
was inaudible. During my walk this day, I recollected
that I was within a few days’ journey of the source of the
Danube, and being suddenly inspired with the desire of
beholding the parent of that famous river, I struck off to
the leftward, and entered the Black Forest, with the inten-
tion of crossing the Suabian mountains next day. After
walking, however, for several hours, without meeting a
single being, and seeing nothing but bare hills before me,
I began to think it might be as well to sleep beneath a
human roof, particularly as I felt both fatigued and feverish ;
so turning to the right, I again directed my steps towards
the Rhine, the course of which could easily be traced by
the fine woods and cultivated fields on either side, and thus

64

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

ingloriously terminated my excursion to the Danube. I
arrived at Schaff hausen in the evening, having taken a near
cut through a small forest in the neighbourhood, at the in-
stigation of, and in company with, a German peasant. We
descended upon the town from an elevated ridge of land,
from which I had a noble view of the old Rhine and the
surrounding country. About a quarter of a mile from
Schaffhausen, I passed close by a small mount surrounded
by a stone wall, which altogether reminded me of the
druidical temple I had erected near Basle. My attention
was more particularly attracted to it by a group of children
on the top, who seemed intently examining something on its
surface. I accordingly ascended, and found to my surprise
the verdant sod covered with blood. On inquiry, I found
that this place was what the natives call the Rappenstein*
which is the place of public execution. The blood I saw
was possibly still warm, as an unhappy malefactor had
been executed that afternoon. Their heads are chopped
off with a two-handed sword, and this, by a dexterous exe-
cutioner, is accomplished by a single blow.

“Sept. 20. — .... Immediately below the fall, the
circling waters of the river form a broad expanse, in which
there is a little island. On this there is a house, one room
of which is fitted up with an excellent camera obscura.
This gives a beautiful picture of the foaming cataract,
* That is, Rdbenstein, the raven’s stone.

THE CAMERA.

65

with its gray rocks and rich under-wood, as well as of the
? vineyards which encompass it, and their white cottages.
The continual descent of the enormous river, the waving
of the adjoining woods, and the dark shadows of the
clouds floating over the vine-clad hills, produce the most
complete deception I ever witnessed. Indeed, I could
scarcely believe that it was only a reflection of nature, and
not nature’s self, and when the light was admitted, the
whole appeared to vanish rather by the hand of enchant-
ment than from natural causes. I would certainly advise
any one visiting this neighbourhood to make a point of
seeing the camera, for I really think I derived as much
pleasure from it as from the scene itself. The roaring
voice of the river renders the delusion perfect.

“I saw this fall from many different points of view,
each successively appearing finer than the other; and
though I arrived at the foot of it about eleven in the
forenoon, it was half-past eight in the evening before I
returned to the auberge. One view from a pine wood
opposite is particularly fine, and it was at this tune
adorned by a bright and magnificent rainbow. About
eight o’clock, when everything was obscure except the
foaming cataract, I was still seated by the river side,
enjoying its tremendous melody. Suddenly a stream of
fire shot up from the rock close by, &nd threw a flood of
stars among the silvery waters. For a few seconds I was

66

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

a good deal astonished at this startling phenomenon, and
the unceasing voice of the river deadening all other sounds,
it was some little time before I discovered that a smith's
forge was built near the foot of the fall. It produced a
singularly beautiful effect, as this stream of light ‘ sprung
upward like a pyramid of fire/ or gently bending across
the water, rose and fell like a magnificent plume of gold ;
and sometimes, when it was about to expire, the bright
flickering flames gave a meteoric appearance to the columns
of spray similar to that so frequently observed in a ship’s
wake at sea. Salmon, and other migratory fish, advance no
higher up the Rhine than the large pool below the fall.”

APPROACH TO THE ALPS.

“ Sept. 22. — I had by this time left Constance and its
mighty waters at some distance behind me, and by the
winding of the road among low and richly wooded hills,
it was hidden from my view. The scenery continued
beautiful during this day’s walk. The majestic Alps,
covered with snow, were visible in the distance, and it
gladdened my heart to be approaching them at every step.
They seemed to my imagination the guardian angels of a
mysterious and unknown land towards which I was jour-
neying by slow but certain steps, and on entering which I
felt as if certain of being purified from the sins of the world,
and relieved of all its sorrows. The unsullied whiteness of

THE ALPS.

67

the snow presented to my mind a beantifnl emblem of the
; innocent lives of the inhabitants, unspotted by the crimes
which contaminate the other races of mankind ; and the
increasing purity of the air, as I approached those awful
barriers of nature, strengthened the idea which fancy had
created, that I was about to make a pilgrimage into some
region blissful as the gardens of Eden. The philosopher,
or reasoning moralist, may smile contemptuously at all
this, and I certainly am no ways disposed to prevent him.
Perhaps he may never have experienced such feelings
himself, and people are too apt to laugh at what they do
not understand; or perhaps he has felt them and been
ashamed to indulge in the overflowings of his own soul,
because, forsooth, of the pride of reason. But Providence
has wisely planned that happiness should sometimes be
involuntary, and apparently without a cause — that the
heart should be well pleased, it knows not why, and cares
not to know.

“ The different tempers and dispositions of mankind are
in no way more clearly displayed than in the manner of
their travelling, and the objects which principally engage
their attention in the country through which they pass.
It is not a little amusing to behold the very different
points of view in which tourists contemplate the same
object, and to read accounts of rural scenery given by
minds of opposite formation. Were it not that the names

68

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

of places very luckily remain pretty much the same, and
also the great leading features of external nature, it would
be frequently impossible to discover that the same scene
was the object of those various descriptions which the
generosity of tourists has afforded us. A man of lively
imagination and enthusiastic soul is apt to describe the
beauties of nature in too glowing colours — to swell rivulets
into torrents, a few trees into a forest, and little eminences
into lofty mountains. This is more peculiarly the case
when the scene before him is really delightful, when his
heart is expanded by the loveliness around him, and the
fancy ready to jieople the surrounding scenery with the
imaginary beings of its creation. In those hallowed
moments of existence, it would discover a wisdom little
to be envied, to destroy the clear delusion, to attend to
those defects in beauty which every reality possesses, and
with the cold glance of heartless criticism dwell dissatis-
fied on a few imperfections, amid the many beauties
of untouched, unprofanecl nature. Whenever, therefore,
my admiration of any rural scenery falls short of that
expressed in any description of it, there are other feelings
arise in my mind in ample recompence for the disap-
pointment I may have sustained. I think that on the
spot where my emotions are of little value, hearts either
more enthusiastically framed than mine, or, at the par-
ticular time, more kindly disposed, have enjoyed great

SOLITARY TRAVEL.

69

pleasures, have discerned hidden charms that my eye
t cannot perceive, and indulged in trains of associated
thought to which I am a stranger. The consciousness
of this makes me reflect with humility on the structure
of my own soul, and inspires me with a kindness for
mankind in general, by making me know that there are
many persons in existence, whom I never saw, whose
characters are noble, and who can see sources of enjoy-
ment in objects that to me are indifferent. Such reflec-
tions are of no mean use, and do more to improve the
heart than many a long page of morality, or many a

vapnted advice of sententious wisdom It has often

struck me since I entered this sublime country, that the
inclination and the power which the soul possesses to
connect moral feelings with natural scenery, are very
beautiful indications of the benevolence of the Deity, for
by means of them, wherever we may be placed, there are
sources of enjoyment constantly within our reach. When
the eye is closed, the imagination is awake ; when the scene
is barren, fancy can cover the wildness with beauties
selected from everything that is lovely in nature. Since
this is the case, why should the speech be so constantly
repeated that travelling alone must be dull ? Have I not
been travelling in utter solitude through glorious valleys,
by majestic rivers, and in sight of the most sublime
mountains in Europe, and in what period of my life have

70

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

I felt less of the loneliness or oppression of being alone ?
Some people seem to entertain as mortal an aversion to
solitariness as a mad dog to water, and accordingly so lay
their plans that they are never above a few minutes out
of sight of some person or another — a case certainly much
to be pitied. The very use of society is to render solitude
agreeable. The man who is afraid of being alone never
enjoys the pleasure “resulting from mental independence,
which is the noblest of all. He feels his happiness in-
separable from some person whose company he may not
always have it in his power to command — he lives more
for others than for himself, that is to say, he puts the
care of his happiness entirely in the hands of others,
whereas, that care should only be intrusted to our own
hearts. It becomes, therefore, the duty of every one to
be able to be alone ; and to acquire this ability the best
method is practice. Every mind has sources of happiness
unknown to itself ; these sources are gradually discovered,
and become more copious in proportion as pleasure is
drawn from them. A knowledge of this fact, combined
with a natural instinct for solitude, has long made me
fond of being alone, and of travelling alone ; and though,
in the course of my solitary perambulations, I have often
felt those moments of listlessness to which I suppose
every one is occasionally subject, I never had reason to
attribute them to the circumstance of being alone, but to

SOOTHING INFLUENCE OF SCENERY.

71

the imperfections of my nature, which would have been
g. the same in the midst of crowded cities as in the loneliest
valleys. It is not necessary that when alone our minds
should be constantly revolving some subject of medita-
tion. There is a kind of tranquil happiness independent
of the exertions of the understanding, and even little con-
nected with the excursions of fancy. During such moments
we feel a kindness as it were for everything around us,
animate and inanimate, all dislikes and animosities are
forgotten, and we feel a disposition that is well expressed
by the word ‘ good ’ in its best and noblest signification.
The heart is in a state of complete harmony, the images
of hills, trees, waters, fields, and all the appearances of
nature, make us virtuously inclined. We can then sit upon
the bank of a stream, or the side of a hill, and look around
us with feelings of contentment and peace ; and even with
the existence of sorrow, everything looks so quiet and so
blessed, that grief itself partakes of the universal joy.”

A few years after this, the sober experience of life, and,
we may add, a sounder theology, materially weakened Mr
Wilson’s faith in nature as the panacea for the ills of mor-
tality ; but they only deepened his love of the landscape,
and gave him intenser consciousness of that benign and
adorable Presence to which it owes at once its life and its
beauty. At the risk of wearying the reader, we cannot

72

A CONTINENTAL TOUE.

forbear to add one other extract on the mutual adaptation

\

of outward nature and the mind of man — a theme on
which, sixteen years afterwards, his eloquent friend Dr
Chalmers, in his Bridgewater Treatise, discoursed so
sublimely. It occurs after a glowing description of
Chambery : —

“ I never passed two whole days together of something
so near to happiness as I did among the mountains of
Savoy ; and though I was too delighted to think of it at
the time, I have since been very much pleased to recognise
in this a very striking confirmation of a favourite creed
of mine. I am now more than ever convinced that there
are no mental ills that may not be cured by a timely, a
sincere, and a trusting recurrence to those medicines which
lie everywhere scattered about for us among the forms
and influences of nature ; that in an inartificial state of
society and manners, all the fancies, and feelings, and
associations that come to the mind from the external
world are expressly adapted, by their very nature, to meet
and combine with others which previously existed in the
mind itself, and to engender, by their union, powers and
effects that could not have been produced in any other
way ; in fact, that the mind of man and the external
world are made expressly for each other, as the sexes ^re
in man and woman, and that powers and capabilities
exist in each, which can never be properly and naturally

THE BLIND MINSTREL.

73

exerted but by tlie means and in the presence of those
which belong to the other: that the mind is (almost
literally) a musical instrument, whose tones can only be
duly felt and brought out by meeting with corresponding
tones in objects external from itself. I know that meta-
physicians would laugh at all this ; but I should not like
it or believe it a bit the less on that account.”

THE BLIND MUSICIAN.

“ Oct. 5. — Before my departure from this village (Mu-
nich, near Berne), I listened for an hour to an old man,
who played delightfully on an instrument like a flute, with
the mouth-piece of a flageolet attached to its side. I
know that in cases of this kind a person is not difficult to
please, and that when the eye is delighted the ear is easily
prevailed on to be so likewise. This may in some measure
have been the case with me, for the mellow tones of a
flute, even though waked by no skilful hand, are delightful
when surrounded with hills, and at a distance from every-
thing that gives a hint of the world being in existence.
This old man was blind, and, like many blind men, happy —
a case which, though often occurring, never ceases to excite
my wonder and surprise. I think that were I blind my-
I never could be happy again. Every footstep I
should chance to hear going past would make my heart
sick ; and to know the time that the sun was setting,

74

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

without having the power to behold it, would make me
wish for death. And yet the resources of my mind are
not fewer than those of this poor ignorant peasant. I
often think on the deprivation of sight, for I have a pre-
sentiment that the case will one day be mine. Yet the
more I think of it the more fearful a thing does it become,
and the more am I convinced of my own inability to be
reconciled to such a destiny. I observed this old musi-
cian, when by himself, stop every twenty yards, and re-
main motionless for about a minute, turning his head a
different way each time, and moving his lips as if he were
speaking to himself. Perhaps he was recalling to his
memory the appearance of the scene before him — the
rich beauty of the winding valley, the sombre magnificence
of the ancient forests, or the everlasting glory of the icy
Alps, and haply for a moment he may have forgot that he
was blind. Probably by doing this often, the idea of the
landscape remained so constantly in his mind as to present
itself always under the same appearance at the same rest-
ing-place, as much as if his eyes were not dark and sight-
less— ‘ as if no drop serene had quenched their orbs, or
dim suffusion veiled/ ”

The wanderer among the mountains was after this no
longer solitary. The following extract records a little in-
cident, of which an American friend was the hero : —

BIDING DOUBLE.

75

AN EQUESTKIAN ADYENTUEE.

“ Oct. 10. — During tliis day's walk, P , who, upon

the whole, shews much more jpluch than most of his
countrymen, suffered much from fatigue and tender feet.
Por an hour or two we scarcely advanced more than a
couple of miles per hour. Towards evening a fair Sa-
voyard, cl’un certain age, passed by on horseback, after
the manner usual in Switzerland. After much argument,

we induced P to request a seat behind the lady ; so,

having hailed her, we descanted at some length on the
disabled state of the unfortunate foreigner, and, finally,
persuaded her to take him with her the length of St
Martin. He was, accordingly, mounted ‘with difficulty
and labour hard,' and the two departed on their way re-
joicing. We had not proceeded far, however, before our
eyes were attracted by an unusual spectacle. Either the

saddle-girths had given way, or P with his cherry

stick had tickled the fancy of the Alpine courser. Be that
as it may, the twain were lying in the dust in a most de-
plorable condition, the horse peacefully grazing by the
roadside, and the fair Savoyard, leaning over the exhausted
Columbian, exclaiming, with clasped hands, ‘ 0 pauvre
Anglais ! — 0 pauvre enfant /' Neither of them could
give a very intelligible account of the manner in which
the accident happened, and, fortunately, neither of them

76

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

was a bit the worse of it. After some time, they were
both rehoistecl on the unconscious beast, and reached
their destination in safety, as happy as ‘before the fall/”

THE SCOTSMAN AND THE SWISS.

“ Oct. 11. — During our walk this day we were fortunate
enough to engage Jacques Balma ( des dames), a celebrated
guide who ascended with Saussure to the summit of Mont
Blanc, as our conductor on the following day. He is a
tall, hardy-looking man, with a dark complexion, a little
bent by age, as he must be now upwards of sixty. Yet he
scales the glaciers with all the activity of a man in the
prime of life. I had a good deal of conversation with
another very entertaining and intelligent countryman, with
whom I walked for four or five miles. He informed me at
some length regarding the state of agriculture in the val-
ley, and what was more interesting to me, the manners
and customs of people like himself. From everything
that I heard from him, as well as from others, and from
my own observation, I conceive the national character of the
Scots and Swiss to be very similar. They agree in a spirit
of independence and integrity, in contentment with their
situation in life, acuteness of intellect and extent of infor-
mation, a lively sense of religious duties, and in many of
their local usages, manners, and superstitions. For every

SWITZERLAND AND SCOTLAND.

77

one of these particulars both the above-mentioned nations
are far superior to the French, and (not to speak it pro-
fanely) to the English. Enter into conversation with a
Scotsman or a Swiss, and you are informed upon every
subject of inquiry, to their extent of knowledge — some-
times, it must be confessed, rather in a round-about way
by the former. They are devoid of that mean suspicion
which characterises the common people of certain other
countries. They perceive by your questions that you desire
information, and they are happy to have it in their power
to bestow it. Closely connected with this part of their
character is their hospitality. Their door is open to the
traveller, and their fare, such as it is, is laid before him.
For such kindness they think that not even thanks are due ;
and short as your acquaintance with them has been, on
taking leave they wish you happiness with all the earnest-
ness and sincerity of old friends. Exhibitions of the
human heart like these give joy that few things can equal,
and instruction of no light land. Often in former times,
amid the mountains of Scotland, have I been the delighted
guest of such hospitality ; and short as my stay in Switzer-
land has been, I have had reason to admire the same fea-
ture of national character. Indeed, over all the world, the
inhabitants of mountainous countries are famous for this
virtue. As to the intellectual capacity of the different
peoples of whom I speak, the most inattentive observer must

78

A CONTINENTAL TOUR.

be forcibly struck with the superiority in favour of the
Scots and Swiss. The peasantry of the former nation are
perhaps superior to those of any other country in the
world. That they are naturally acute and shrewd is cer-
tain, and that character they have always maintained, both
at home and abroad. This natural acuteness is increased
by their excellent education, and by the peculiar effects
resulting from the reformation in religion/'

CHAPTER III.

Jttklibism aitir ftalj.

“ Then neither heathy wilds, nor scenes as fair
As ever recompensed the peasant’s care,

Can call up life into his faded eye,

That passes all he sees unheeded by ;

No wounds like those a wounded spirit feels.

No cure for such, till God who makes them heals.”

— William Cowper.

“ A lively curiosity is, in common circumstances, our prevalent feel-
ing when we first approach countries which, however near to our own,
may in some sense be termed another earth. A new language shouted
by sailors, lisped by children, appearing in every kind of public inscrip-
tion, with a change in dresses, countenances, vehicles, buildings, and all
the variety of lesser objects, produce an impression which perhapB a
Hibernian islander might state most forcibly by saying, ‘ You can’t land
twice for the first time.’ ” — John Siieppaud.

The tour of 1816 was followed by a visit to Paris, when
lie was intrusted with an important commission. It was
tlie purchase for the University of Edinburgh of the series
of ornithological specimens, now known as the Dufresne
Collection. On his return he spent much of his time
assisting Professor Jameson in the work of their arrange-
ment, and the acquisition now forms one of the most
beautiful and valuable treasures in the College Museum.

A good deal of his leisure was also occupied in another
congenial employment. In 1816, Blackwood's Magazine
had commenced its career, and to the first volumes Mr
Wilson contributed many articles. The subjects which he
usually selected were akin to his own tastes and pursuits
as a lover of nature and of poetry, an angler, and an occa-
sional tourist ; but it is believed that he had a hand in not
a few papers of pleasantry and humour, of which the indi-
vidual or joint-stock authorship can no longer be ascer-
tained.*

* In the list of Mr Wilson’s publications given at the end of tills
volume, we have enumerated such contributions to Blackwood as we
have been able to identify, with the kind assistance of J ohn Blackwood,
Esq., and of Mr Wilson’s own family.

82

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

In 1819 lie visited Sweden. To the enthusiastic young
naturalist no pilgrimage could be more interesting than to
the garden and the grave of the immortal Linnaeus, and his
historical knowledge would make the region romantic which
at every turn called up the memories of Gustavus Vasa and
Charles the Twelfth. But of his impressions no record
survives. If, as is most likely, he kept notes at the time,
the broken health and spirits of the following winter pre-
vented him from making an extended transcript.

Bor soon after his return, symptoms of pulmonary dis-
ease exhibited themselves. With these were combined
other depressing influences. Neither health nor inclination
allowed him to carry his legal studies any further, and
whilst the portion of goods which fell to a younger son
made scanty provision for the future, that seductive study
which had gradually absorbed all his heart and soul was
more likely to diminish than augment the slender patri-
mony. To this must be added a cause of disquiet, which,
although apparently insignificant, was to him very serious.
A tendency to swelling in the face was the occasion of fre-
quent pain and much discomfort, and was dwelt upon by
a somewhat morbid imagination, until the fear that it might
develop into something very dreadful lay on his mind a
continual incubus. Bor these fears it turned out that there
was no foundation, but still we think it worth while to
record the circumstance. We fancy that many young

SICKNESS AND DEPRESSION.

83

persons especially are haunted by nervous apprehensions,
which, could they only summon courage to consult the com-
petent authorities, would be instantly dispelled ; and in a
world where all our strength is needed for the real struggle,
it is a pity to have any portion of our energies swallowed
up in curable anxieties or chimerical forebodings.

Betwixt invalid depression and the uncertainty of his
plans and prospects, the interval which followed his
twenty-fourth year was one of much inward sadness. He
had not yet the blessed hope which afterwards upbore him
beneath graver burdens ; and though manly pride helped
to sustain his infirmity in the presence of others, and the
social instinct enabled him occasionally to forget it, the
load at his heart was heavy.

As the best preservative from the consumptive ten-
dency detected in his chest, he was advised to spend a
winter in Italy. His two unmarried sisters accompanied
him, and the change proved to some extent beneficial. But
it needed more than the witchery of Italian skies and
southern breezes to chase away the evil spirit of melan-
choly ; and the following record will shew that it was a
very dull departure : — •

“ Left Edinburgh on the morning of Tuesday, August 2,
1820, with every degree of disinclination for the journey.
From some perversity of mind, all my former feelings in
regard to an Italian tour had suffered a complete reversal ;

84

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

f

and instead of regarding it as the most beautiful region
of the world, I now felt as if it contained no one interest-
ing feature. Whatever may be the result of the journey,
this want of foretaste of pleasure is a great misfortune.
At least, in every other tour which I have hitherto made,
I have found the joys of anticipation fully equal to those
which resulted from the journey itself ; and as in the pre-
sent case my bad state of health will prevent my enjoying
many pleasures which formerly constituted my greatest
happiness, it is very likely that my enjoyment of the tour
itself will be greatly diminished. Certain it is that I
shall never again be able to produce in myself that state
of mind in which the very thought of visiting the ‘ divine
Italy ’ would have been sufficient to make me happy of
itself alone. I have found myself grow older in body and
more callous in mind within these last six months than I
had hoped to be in the natural progress of half a century.
I look back upon the joy which I used to receive from the
beauties of nature, and from the mere feeling of life, as
to trains of sentiment which I had experienced only in
sleep ; and, when I contrast my past with my present
state, I have some difficulty in being convinced of my
personal identity.’'’

However, the mere locomotion soon began to produce a
good effect ; for at Liverpool we find him indulging a
little waggery at the expense of its citizens : —

DANDYISM.

85

“Your Liverpool dandies are not tlie thing. Their
cravats are good, so are their coats, their breeches still
better, and the creatures have tolerable legs ; but still
their gait exhibits a sympathetic mingling with the long
shanks of the three-legged stool utterly destructive of the
true style. A dandy out of London, I verily believe, is
like a fish out of the water. He may fly for a few hundred
yards with some effect, but ere long he will either exhibit
characters incompatible with the dandy state, or sink at
once into the blue profound of his native element. Even
Edinburgh, with its superb terrace, is all unfit ; and then,
the science of Schneiderism is there unknown — amidst the
total eclipse not a beam of light falls on the needle of one
masterly artificer. Besides, an essential dandy has no more
to do with time than he has with eternity. The observance
of stated periods, or any law of necessity, is destructive to
the very existence of the character which he aims at ; and
being obliged to do any one thing is just the same as being
obliged to resign all pretensions to a seat in the court and
parliament of dandies. Now, smelling rum or tearing
cotton, running at one time to the quay, at another to the
custom-house, is to a merchant a work of necessity. The
Liverpool men are merchants, and consequently, whatever
they may think, not dandies in the genuine sense of the
term. Unless a man has it in his power to drive out in
his chariot or tilbury every day of the year, and at any

86

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

hour of the day, the chances are much against his ever
becoming an unadulterated dandy.”

When he had passed the Pillars of Hercules, and found
himself among the new appearances and influences of the
great inland sea, the spirit of the voyager revived.

“ Sept. 1. — Since we entered the Straits, we have found
the climate quite another thing. When the wind does
blow, it comes upon us as if from a sea of warm milk —
how different from the easterly gales of Caledonia ! The
heat is now, indeed, rather too great for anything like
comfort in the cabin ; but then we have got a spare sail
rigged up upon four poles over the quarter-deck, so that
we may enjoy the sea breezes under a delightful awning
from morn to night. This evening several porpoises
rushed past us at a gallop, and most opportunely raised a
flock of flying-fish within a few yards of the vessel. They
fly in a straightforward arrowy fashion, somewhat in the
style of the kingfisher, and their sides glitter like fine
silver. I took them at first for a flock of sandpipers fly-
ing towards the shore.

“ Sept. 8. — There have been many of Mother Carey’s
chickens in the wake of the vessel all day. Took a shot
at one, and brought him down — the first I have handled
in a recent state. I observed that the eye is furnished
with a nictitating membrane, like an owl’s, which I don’t
remember to have seen in the description of the bird.

PETRELS.

87

These petrels kept flying astern of the vessel till it was
too dark to see ; hut how they spend the night I can’t
i say. It cannot he on shore, for we were twenty or thirty
miles from land. They seemed never to rest on the
water, unless when they discovered the crumbs of cheese
and biscuit, or pieces of bacon which we threw for them
overboard, and then they settled on the water to enjoy
their prize at leisure. They frequently just touched the
water like a swallow, which they greatly resemble with
their wings hovering in the air and bent back ; and
they then appeared as if picking up their food from the
surface.

“Sept. 14. — Saw four pilot-fish under the bows. They
are very beautiful creatures, coloured with alternate bands
of transparent bluish green and rich crimson brown,
varying in the sun to beryl-green and blood-red. Saw a
pale ghost-like fish glide past like a shadow, at a great
depth under water. Signor Shark shewed himself to-day
for a moment or two, far beneath the surface ; so did not
think it prudent to trust myself to the bosom of the deep.
Towards evening a vast flock of flying-fish rose at a dis-
tance of some hundred yards to windward of the vessel.
They were immediately pursued with hue and cry by the
whole posse of gulls, and these no sooner drove them into
the water than they were attacked by the bonitos, who
drove them back into the air, leaping after them to the

88

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

height of several feet. Thus persecuted above, and find-
ing no rest below, they seemed to attempt a middle
course, and just flirted over the sea, sometimes in and
sometimes out, according as their aerial or aquatic tyrants
proved the most relentless. This singular, though most
unfair, pursuit seemed to reverse the order of nature ; for
in their eagerness the gulls frequently darted with then-
finny prey beneath the waves, whilst with still greater
impetuosity the bonitos sprung after them into the at-
mosphere. A harder lot than that of a flying-fish under
such circumstances, I do not know. Its state is a degree
worse than that of the animal which ‘ dies on the land,
and cannot live in the water.’

“Sept 15, Friday. — The wind is fair and the weather
fine, and if matters remain as they are now for a couple
of days longer, we shall surely behold Genoa in all its
pride of place. There has been another superficial war
waging to-day between the gulls, bonitos, and flying-fish.
Some albicores also favoured us with their company for
several hours, and the beautiful pilot-fish again shewed
themselves alongside. During a former voyage, our
vessel was attended by eleven albicores for two entire
days. They followed her into Genoa, and were every one
caught by the natives. I suspect that the reason which
both they and the bonitos would assign for following
ships, is their greater chance of securing the smaller fish,

THE LOST POCKET-BOOK.

89

which are frightened to either side by the advance of the
vessel. They thus have a command over more water than
■ if they were pursuing a solitary course.

“ Port of Genoa, Sept. 19, Tuesday. — ‘Murder will out.’
On the 11th of this month, when at sea, I missed my pocket-
book from a little shelf above my berth, where I usually
imprudently let it lie. It contained bills and money to a
considerable amount, besides letters, &c. I went through
the form of searching the trunks of every one on board,
not so much in the hope of finding it, as with an intention
to lull the fears of the real offender, so that I might
secure him with it about his person on some future day.
Our search was vain ; not a trace of bill or bank-note to
be found : the pocket-book had fled for ever, ‘ and left me
on the earth disconsolate.’ I then stuck up an advertise-
ment, offering a reward of five guineas to any one who
should recover, or lead to the recovery, of the stolen goods ;
but to no effect. My suspicion was naturally turned upon
two of our crew ; first, the steward, a mulatto, always
in the cabin, and probably aware of my hiding-place ;
secondly, one of the sailors called Williams, by birth a
Dane, who was almost the only one of the sailors ever in
the cabin, where he had been regularly employed twice-a-
week in scrubbing out the floor. His character seemed
that of a careless buffoon, always joking and singing, and
seldom making his appearance on deck without exclaim-

90

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

ing, * Here conies Williams as usual without a halfpenny
to bless himself.’ All hands in the cabin suspected the
steward, because he had naturally a cloud upon his brow,
but I thought I could perceive a deeper shade over the
greasy forehead of the £ royal Dane/ As soon as we got

into harbour, Captain H and I determined that our

best plan was to dismiss these two men as suspected
persons, with full leave to carry off themselves and bag-
gage when and wheresoever they chose; the chances
being that, if they were the offenders, some trace of the
theft would be in their possession. In the meantime,
upon a preconcerted signal, four gens d’armes were to
be in waiting, and as soon as our friends stepped on shore
they were to be arrested, carried to the guard-room close
by, and carefully searched. On Monday night, however,
when we were at tea, our friend Williams and the cook
went off in the long boat without leave asked, and stayed
away all night. They came on board again next morning,
both intoxicated, but made off for the second and last
time while we were at breakfast. My suspicion of
Williams now became very strong. I traced him without
any delay to an obscure drinking-shop, called the f Jolly
Sailor,’ and having heard the moment I landed that he
had changed several bank-notes, my opinion was confirmed.
So off I set in pursuit, with three gens d’arvies, and one
or two assistant civilians. We discovered the rascals

CORSTORPHINE HILL.

91

drunk and asleep, and found that Williams was actually
the robber, and that lie had consigned my property as his
own proper prize-money to the care of the landlord, who
immediately delivered the same to me. On the part of
the thief, I think I never knew a robbery more daring in
its commencement, or more idiotically managed in its
conclusion ; but, to use the words of the suspected steward,
‘ Providence made Williams get drunk, that the character
of the innocent might be cleared.5 The pocket-book
itself, with several letters and other documents, had very
prudently been thrown overboard.55

In 1821, Mr Wilson returned from Italy ; but his
health was still feeble, and for the next two years he was
to all intents an invalid. Even his favourite pursuit
ceased to rouse him, and the journeys which he took
from time to time were so far a penance as they were
part of the doctor’s prescription. However, the summer
of 1822 transferred him for change of air to Corstorphine,
and in the pretty neighbouring villa of Corstorphine Hill
he found a family whose society did more for his resus-
citation than could have been done by the skill of all the
faculty. Of that attractive circle the charm soon began
to concentrate, and in Miss Isabella Keith the wanderer
discovered such a union of engaging attributes as supplied
a new mainspring to his own existence, and thenceforward

92

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

made CorstorpTiine Hill magnetic. The friendship thus
pleasantly commenced was followed up in the correspond-
ence of the following winter, and, even before its inevi-
table consummation, it exerted the happiest influence on
Mr Wilson. Not only had he alighted on a kindred spirit
to whose bright and gentle intuition his varying mood of
mind, whether grave or gay, lay open (and it is a great
comfort to be understood) ; but amidst the more serious
thoughts with which he was now familiar, he had found

A

a guide whose firmer faith and endearing goodness helped
him to rise to a higher level. The first of the following
letters to his “ cousin/' as he chose to misname her, ac-
companied a collected edition of Wordsworth's Poems : —

“ Chi'istmas-day , 1822.

“ Dead and good Cousin, — As you were so kind as
to listen very patiently during the last autumn to a great
deal of ill-expressed praise of William Wordsworth, my
‘mind’s father,' I think it my duty that you should
speedily be enabled to judge of his extraordinary merits
» more fully and at leisure.

“ You will perceive that many of these poems, of no
striking interest at first or taken singly, will grow upon
you and increase in value when you come to view them
* in connexion with each other, and as belonging to the
same system of thought ; and if the atheism and impiety

WOEDSWOETH.

93

of such lads as Shelley and Lord Byron tend — as they
certainly must and ought to do — to diminish the pleasure
derived even from their better works, so, on the other
hand, should the noble faith and the pure practice of such
a man as Wordsworth, render our delight the greater in
studying even the least important of his. So read them,
cousin, at your leisure, without disinclination to be
pleased. Judge for yourself, and take no heed of those
who sit in the chair of the scorner, combating a phantom
of childishness and insipidity, which their own obtuse and
imbecile ignorance has created. Should you at any time
meet with what you cannot understand, be humble, and
attribute such a misfortune to your own weakness rather
than to his, and you will find your reward ; for he is one
of the master spirits, and there is reason in all his
thoughts.

“ My only fear now is, that I may have written some-
what too much of this, and that you may be disappointed.
However, I trust to time and your own reflections. Don’t
rely upon first impressions where these are unfavourable,
but rather wait : the light will break in by degrees. For
I believe that the exercise of the creative faculty is not
confined to the works alone of any original genius ; he
must, in a great degree, create the taste itself, especially
where, as in modem poetry, there is much that is false
and unstable. At least, the perception and relish of what

94

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

is good improve in proportion to the supply; ‘as if 'in-
crease of appetite did grow by what it fed on/ as was

once observed of the late Dr W , he being then

employed on his fifth plate of turtle-soup.”

“Saturday Night.

“ Dear Cousin, — I have just been informed, when it is
nearly two hours too late, that I might have gone to Mait-
land Street to-day to dinner, where I should have enjoyed
good mutton, a glass of ale, glorious tea, and the society
of your sister Nancy (I have missed out the Miss by
mistake). I would have given anything to have gone out,
having been in a very strange unsettled humour all day,
and unable to do anything but laugh at the robin for try-
ing to swallow the tail of a live mouse, which the dear
innocent takes for a worm. Hee ! hee ! hee ! Why don’t
you laugh ?

“ Howze yir toothache ? I was very sorry to learn by
your last despatch that you were suffering from a renewal
of that painful malady. They say it is a worm in the
tooth. If you would let cock-robin sleep in your mouth
for a single night, he would effect a permanent and
radical cure ; but then, his charges are high.

“I feel considerable trepidation in alluding to your
request to see some scraps of miscellaneous poetry. Your
demand, it would seem, is either to be ‘granted gener-

PRIME LAW IN POETRY.

95

ously, or refused gently/ Most alliterative of ill-tempered
Tibbies !

? 1 How high, her honour holds her haughty head ! ’

(Hopkins ?)

If you but

* Viewed the vileness of my -ricked verse,’

you would at once admit that there is to the full as much
‘ generosity ’ in the refusal as there could be gentleness in
the ‘ granted/ But, to speak as they do in the dog-star,
that is siriusly , I will tell you a fact, which you will

perhaps consider only in the light of a fiction, to wit

but, in the meantime, I must go ben to my tea, for I hear
the ‘great Tom : ’ so, please, wait for the fact for five
minutes.

“Well, as I was saying, I will tell you a great fact, to
wit, the primal and most indispensable law in the com-
position of poetry is that there must be a preponderance
both in mind and body of pleasurable sensation, otherwise
the result is necessarily cold, feeble, forced, and valueless.
Now, cousin, notwithstanding many sources of pleasure
still open to me, and for which I ought to be, and in fact
am, very grateful, yet my usual and prevailing feelings
are, and, I believe, must ever be, the reverse of pleasure-
able ; from which statement I leave you to draw the
inference, that that which a man cannot write, neither
can he send.

96

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

“ To continue. Hem ! I begin in fact to change my
mind regarding poetry and poetical perception, always ex-
cepting the great god Pan, who lives in a cottage in West-
moreland. ‘ His soul is like a star, and dwells apart/ He
is to be worshipped as the Guebres do the sun, his bright-
ness to be gloried in, his spots (for such there are in the
most splendid luminaries) to be left unrecorded. There
should be no Herschel in poetry. Por myself, I eat too
much to be sentimental ; a pound of beef or mutton daily,
and half a pound of fish, potatoes, and other garniture, are
too substantial accompaniments to the ethereal essence of
poetic inspiration — not to speak of cheese. I do not,
however, despise the sweet science. * Toute au contraire
as they say in the Highlands. ‘ I own the soft impeach-
ment ; ’ but it is often too sublimated for my stultified
understanding, which pants in vain for something like a
distinct conception, and loves not for itself alone the ‘ un-
meaning melody of sweetest sound.’ ”

" March 1823.

“Dear Cousin, — I received the libri tre. I hope
you did not hurry yourself with them, or read them at
any time when you would have preferred something else,
merely for the sake of returning them soon. I send tre
altri, which you can read at your leisure, and try to find
some amusement from them. Some people contrive (like

SERMONS IN STONES,

97

bum-bees on tbe top of a thistle) to find’ 4 good in every-
thing.’ I have little doubt you are one of those. By the
by, if the assertion were true as given in the first part of
the fine last quoted — c sermons in stones ’ — what a pitiable
life must be led by a mineralogist ! for we could scarcely
expect that every piece of slate, grauwacke, or whin-
stone, would turn out a Chalmers or Thomson. Quartz
would make a pint of being as dry as Dr. Grant [Granite].
Hee-hee !

“I rushed over (in a hackney coaoh) to the Wernerian
Society last Saturday, and was so bold, besides transact-
ing my own especial business, as to stay to the meeting.
I got a bit of a fright, however ; for the first paper read,
I found, was an attack upon myself — that is, upon cer-
tain doctrines which I had advocated in a paper read to,
and published by, the society some years ago : so that I
was obliged in my own defence, and in spite of that great
degree of modesty which I possess, and which I hope you
have observed, and give me due credit for, to get up and
make the following excellent speech from a corner, in a
low and plaintive voice : —

“ ‘ Mr President, — Sir.’ But it would be egotistical

were I to proceed any further.”

In his paper on the Falconidce Mr Wilson had main-
tained the specific distinctness of the' golden eagle ( Aquila

G

98

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

chrysdetos), and the ring-tailed eagle {Falco ful/vus of
Buffon). This view was controverted on the occasion
above humorously referred to, by P. S. Selby, Esq., of
Twizell House, now well known throughout the scientific
world as the author of “ Illustrations of British Ornitho-
logy,” and for thirty years one of Mr Wilson’s most valued
friends. Our author, however, did not willingly abandon
his theory. The following letter, addressed to Sir William
Jardine, Bart., besought the benefit of his information : —

“53 Queen Street, Edinburgh,

1 \th March 1823.

“Deak Sie, — I ought, perhaps, to apologise for troubling
you with this letter ; but as I know your attachment to
those studies to which it relates, I have little doubt you
will excuse me. There was recently read to the Werne-
rian Society a paper by Mr Selby, the object of which was
to prove the identity of the ring-tailed and golden eagles.
Mr S. considers the former as the young of the latter.
As this opinion is at variance with the one which I had
advocated some years ago in a paper on the genus Falco,
published in the Wernerian Transactions, and with the
sentiments which I still maintain, I drew up an answer to
Mr Selby’s communication, and gave at the same time a
general account of the different opinions entertained on
this disputed point. These opinions are three in number.
1st, The old notion, which maintains that the golden and

THE GOLDEN EAGLE.

99

ring-tailed eagles are distinct. 2dly, That which pre-
vailed pretty generally in France some years ago — namely,
that the golden eagle is the young of the ring-tailed eagle;
and, Sdly, The opinion of more recent origin, now
strengthened by the concurrence of Mr Selby, that the
ring-tail is the young of the golden eagle. The first
opinion is the one which I have adopted. The second, I
have endeavoured to refute chiefly by shewing that if the
golden eagle were the young of the ring-tail, it would not
only be as common as that species, but much more so ;
because, if every pair of adult ring-tailed eagles breed once
in the year, and produce two young at a brood, and if
these young require three years to attain their perfect
plumage (as the advocates of this opinion have stated),
then it follows that at the lapse of every period of three
years, there would be three pair of young golden eagles
for every single pair of adult ring-tailed eagles which
existed at the commencement of that period — in other
words, that the golden eagle would be three times more
common than the ring-tailed eagle. The reverse of which,
however, is really the case — the ring-tailed eagle being
six or eight times more common than the golden eagle.

“ The third opinion escapes the objection arising from
the disparity in point of numbers, which I think insuper-
able in regard to the second opinion, but in many other
respects it is equally if not more objectionable than that

100

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

opinion. I endeavoured, first, upon general principles, to
shew that the ring-tail was not the young of the golden
eagle, in so far as the plumage of the tail was composed
of distinct portions or bands of black and white, a dis-
position of colour which is characteristic of maturity, or,
at least, which is never perceived in the young of any
species, in the adult individual of which (like the mature
golden eagle) there is on the same part a mingled com-
bination of comparatively obscure and less strongly con-
trasted colours. This argument I illustrate and enforce
at considerable length, though I shall not, at present,
trouble you with the details. I also argue against the one
being the young of the other from this circumstance
among others, that in Low’s ‘Fauna Orcadensis,’ which
contains a list of the Orkney birds, the result of a twenty
years’ residence in those islands, the ring-tailed eagle is
described as pretty frequent, but no mention is made of
the golden eagle as an inhabitant of the Orkney Isles. I
add, that the same circumstance occurs in the island of
Iona, where I have observed the ring-tailed eagle as an
adult breeding bird, occupying the least accessible of the
eyries, but where I could neither observe nor collect any
information regarding the occurrence of the golden eagle.
My reason for troubling you with all this is, that I under-
stood you have had in your possession a live golden eagle
for some time, and that you procured him while young.

TEE BIKD’S OWE VERDICT.

101

If so, what is his present plumage compared to that which
he formerly bore ? Did his tail bear the white ring at
the base, and has it now disappeared (as Mr Selby asserts
it to do) ? Is he now a mature golden eagle, corresponding
to the descriptions usually given of that bird by authors ?
Do you, upon the whole, adhere to the original belief of
these birds being distinct, or do you rather incline to Mr
Selby's notion of their being one and the same ? I shall
be at all times happy to procure for you any information
in my power which you may be desirous of obtaining
from this quarter in furtherance of your ornithological
pursuits, and I beg again to apologise for the liberty I
have taken. — I remain, &c.,

“ James Wilson.”

An appeal to the king of birds himself confirmed the
conclusions of the Northumbrian ornithologist;* but the
above letter was the renewal of an acquaintance which
ripened into a life-long friendship, confirmed by mutual
esteem as well as kindred tastes, and not a little conducive
to the happiness both of Sir William and his correspon-
dent. Neither the lordly apartments of the Royal Society,
nor the collections of the College Museum and Library,
could have furnished a more delightful retreat to a savant

* Sir William’s eagle sat for its portrait, which now forms ^late 2 of
Mr Selby’s “ Illustrations.”

102

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

studiously disposed, than Mr Wilson might have found
amongst the inexhaustible books and specimens of Jardine
Hall, nor would it have been any drawback that ichthyo-
logical illustrations were supplied by Annan Water more
recent, if not as rare as the stuffed salmonidce in the end-
less cabinets. But it was not till late in life that, although
frequently invited, he was able to pay a lengthened visit
to this hospitable abode. It was in 1854, when preparing
materials for the press ; and he exceedingly enjoyed its
cheerful seclusion, as well as the extensive apparatus so
luxuriously at hand in this great repertory of everything
pertaining to zoological science.

In the meanwhile, however, notwithstanding such
episodes as the eagle controversy, and despite the gaiety
of his familiar epistles, his strength was imperfectly
restored, and the depression of spirit, with which he never
ceased to contend, he could not always conceal. In the
autumn of 1823, he visited Ardencaple, the residence of
his intelligent and heartily appreciating friend, Lord John
Campbell, and spent some time cruising in the yachts of
Lord Willoughby de Broke and James Smith, Esq. of
Jordanhill. With one or two of the letters then written
we conclude this section of his history. Mournful as is
the tone of the first extract, we think it better not to
withhold it. Perhaps to some “ shipwrecked brother ” it
may prove a footstep in the sand. Eew that saw the

DEPRESSION.

103

affluent sunshine of Mr Wilson’s later life could imagine
that it once had to struggle up from such a sea of sorrow.

TO mSS ISABELLA KEITH.

“ Largs, August 1823.

“Every day convinces me of the irremediable imbe-
cility of my own mind, and every attempt to throw it off
overthrows myself. It has been with the greatest diffi-
culty for some days past that I have been able to under-
stand the slightest thing Pain, weakness, and

misfortune may distract the mind, and render it insen-
sible to the purest and holiest enjoyments ; and of the
degree of blame attachable in such cases, God alone can
judge, because He alone knows all ; and I believe you
will find it admitted in some of your own favourite
authors, that it may certainly please God to permit a
diseased or morbid sensibility of frame, whether corporeal
or mental, to mar Christian joy even to the very grave.
Why I should be as I am, I cannot say, — because at pre-
sent we ‘ see through a glass darkly ; ’ though the time
will come when we shall know even as we are known.
In the meantime, let us judge each other in charity :
‘ faith, hope, charity, these three ; but the greatest of
these is charity.’

“ I have been here since last Thursday, and although
everything within doors is just as I would wish it, I have

104

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

not yet in any way recovered the knack of enjoying my-
self ; but as my hopes were small, my disappointment has
not been great. I have scarcely been out since I came
here ; I feel unable to read, I can’t write, and I see no
use in staring at the ships. The scenery, I have no
doubt, is beautiful ; I don’t feel it to be so, but I am
thankful there are no setting suns. There is but one
sight in nature which is still too much for my spirit to
bear, and that is the setting sun. At the close of a sum-
mer evening, when all around is quiet and hushed, and
when the western sky gleams with the lovely hues of
departing glory, I look upon the calm magnificence of
heaven, and at that moment wish I had never been called
into existence. The 'crimson -clouds of an evening sky
make my heart sick, and my mind is never more per-
turbed by ghastly visions than amid the fairy light of a
setting sun. Yet I once loved it — not wisely, but too
well. Though time has now broken the delusion, still I
never can forget what I have felt when a fiery sun slowly
sank behind the purple momitains, and seemed to leave
the world in a blaze of glory. I saw there a splendid
emblem of a great man’s death ; for the career of virtue
is brightest when about to lead into heaven. I felt a
throb that told me not to be ashamed to stand erect in
the creation of God, and I could have wept with sublime
joy to think that I might widen the sphere of virtue, and

MORE JAMES WILSONS.

105

in the next world remember something that I had done
in this.”

Our next extract is in a spriglitlier vein. It is from a
letter headed, “ Scene — At sea. Time — Night. Motto —
‘My home is on the ocean/ Air — Very cold.”

“ I have a thousand thanks, good cousin, for your letter,
which was a great treat in my present sojourn in the land
of strangers. It was sent up to me from Inverness.
There is, however, in that northern metropolis, another
James Wilson, who opened my letter, and, after no doubt
reading it through to his infinite edification, closed it
again, adding on the outside the gratifying intelligence,
‘ Opened by, but not for, James Wilson, Inverness.’ You
need not, however, jump at this, and hold up the palms
of your hands ; for it was Jane’s letter that was examined,
as it came one or two days before, and by the time yours
arrived, the post-office people were aware of my existence
in their neighbourhood.

“You tell me to tell you how I am. I am happy to
inform you that I sleep by night and thrive by day. I
am, however, shocked to add that I have been severely
afflicted by the loss of my customary glass of ale, which
does not seem to abound either in the west or the north
countries. There is, to be sure, plenty of porter, spruce
beer, ginger beer, your common beer, all kinds of wines
and spirituous liquors, and, to make use of a Brussels

10G

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

phrase, ‘ punches as in England ; * so that I have no
reasonable cause of complaint. But you know the per-
versity of human nature ; for, as your mother used to say,
‘ When Isabella was ill, nothing would satisfy her but
pickled mussels/ Well, I feel in regard to my ale exactly
as you used to do as to your pickled mussels, with this
painful distinction, that there is here no maritime Tibby to
minister to my wants. I have seen many a magnificent
mountain, and many a romantic old castle, ‘holding its
dark communion with the clouds/ but I agree with Gray
in preferring to all of these,

‘ The long-resounding ale, and fretted vault.’

It was certainly a very noble idea to suppose the very roof
of the cellar adorned with stalactites of petrified foam from
the bottles and the barm of many centuries.”

The last of the series is dated Sept. 10, 1823 : —

“ I don’t know at all where I am going to at present.
I am now in my old friend Mr Smith’s vessel, the Orion;
but as it is a matter of indifference to me which way she
turns her prow, I don’t wish to disturb the silence of the
scene by asking impertinent questions. It is so calm that
we scarcely move. We lie somewhere between America
and the Laird of Lamont’s, and have been for this last day
or two enjoying the only truly summer weather we have had
since I left home.

A FAT FRIEND.

107

“ Tother night I went to a ball at Brisbane House,
chiefly that I might enjoy as much as possible the society of

Billy . He is just the very man I stood in need of.

People wonder what I see about him, but they are asses,
and he is an angel. His age is sixty-three. His person,
face, and figure are, seriously speaking, not to be distin-
guished by the nicest eye from that of the late Dr ;

indeed, between ourselves, I have reason to believe that it
is the Doctor himself. He is, however, not nearly such a
fool as he looks like ; the late Doctor, that is. He talks of
nothing but eating and drinking, and is alike powerful in
both ; and having lately spent a fortune on French cooks
and gourmanderie, he now billets himself alternately on
one or other of the members of the Yacht Club, and keeps
cruising about for an appetite the greater part of the
year. I saw by the first glimpse which I got of his beau-
tiful nose, which I almost mistook in the twilight for an
aurora borealis, that he was the ‘ properest man on earth’
for me, and I soon found my most sanguine hopes realised.
As a Dutch pilot once said to me, ‘ Wat is zoo zoet als
vriendschap V* so I have found in the affection of Billy
. I took him with me to Ardencaple, where I com-
pleted my conquest by three several acts of kindness,
which my influence with the housekeeper enabled me to
bestow on him — roasted pork, boiled partridges, and fried

* “ What is so sweet as friendship ? ”

108

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

grouse gizzards. F , who arrived the second night,

nearly cut me out by talking of stewed dotterel. If he
could have produced them on the table it would have
been all over with me ; but Billy has seen too much of the
world not to know that a bird on the plate is worth a
million on the moor, and so I still continued lord of the
ascendant. However, his friend’s yacht was obliged, some
days ago, to take her departure for the south, and bore
my beautiful Billy from my distracted view.

“ I was very happy (for me) during my stay at Arden-
caple. It is a delightful old place, with ‘ gray monastic
towers/ embosomed in wood, built on a peninsula on the
banks of a salt-water loch, and backed by fine mountains.
They made me feel quite at home, just as I was at Cor-
storphine Hill, and were truly kind. I must have been
but a tiresome inmate, yet I could not get away on my
present cruise without promising to come back.

“ I sincerely hope you are all enjoying yourselves at the
Hill, and that your mother is constantly on the wing be-
tween the house and the garden, pulling bird-seed, setting
her trap, and rearing her callow young, concerning which
you never condescend to give me any detail. Is Bunny
minor alive, and Bunny major kicking? Have there been
any ants this year on the top of the thistle ? How is your
aunt, Miss Keith ? As I scarcely expect to hear again
from any of my own family, let me know at once if Robin

A MORNING SONG.

109

is dead. No particulars, blit merely the fact that he is
not in 53 Queen Street. Of Shilly I have less fear ; he is
in better hands ; at the same time, if he too should have
lost his life as well as his tail, make a clean breast of it :
my forgiveness is unbounded where there is no malice
prepense.

“ This morning, soon after sunrise — it was a morning
worthy of paradise — I landed for an hour in Brodick Bay,
in Arran, and walked up a valley which would do honour
to the central glories of Switzerland. The hunters might
be up in Arabia, but the few cottages which nature rather
than art seemed to have placed in the centre of this mag-
nificent solitude, gave no sign of life. It seemed as if the
creative sun, which gladdens all the other valleys of the
earth, had never darted his beams over the gigantic battle-
ments of those desert dwellings. The cottages were scarcely
distinguishable from the gray crags of granite which lay
scattered around them. A few aged sycamores, where
£ ruin greenly dwelt/ overshadowed some grassy pilots where
cattle might have pastured, had death and desolation not
reigned supreme. I had finally made my way into the
centre of this enormous grave ; the morning, as I thought,
was growing darker and darker still. I feared c total
eclipse/’ and was about to retrace my steps toward the
narrow pass by which I had entered, at this time entirely
concealed by a rocky barrier, when all at once a low sweet

110

INVALIDISM AND ITALY.

voice was heard from the stump of an elder-tree, and the
beautiful dark-eyed bird, the soother of many an hour of
weary solitude, stood confessed before me. I could scarcely
resist the first sudden impulse which had almost driven
me towards him. He seemed to bend his radiant eyes
upon me, as if he had recognised an ancient friend, and I
sat down upon the grass, and listened to his plaintive
melody as intently as if nothing else had existed in the
world but himself and me. The gray crags and castellated
clouds, and that secluded valley, so magnificent in its
deathlike solitude, were at once forgotten. I had a con-
fused remembrance of a darkened chamber, and some
scattered books, and the same gorgeous breast and lustrous
eye, and most melancholy voice, and I could have sat for
ever. But at last I rose, and, as I left the valley, the beau-
tiful creature seemed to deepen and yet extend the com-
pass of its voice, as if it knew no end ; and the last and
only sound which I heard in that sublime region was the
song of that single solitary bird. I then gained the mouth
of the valley, and descended to the sea-shore ; and I said
to myself, c If I have elbow-room in the cabin, I shall tell
my cousin about this delightful creature and I have done
so now.”

CHAPTER IV.

mtb its traits.

u Oh speak the joy ! ye whom the sudden tear
Surprises often, while you look around.

And nothing strikes your eye hut sights of bliss ;

An elegant sufficiency, content,

Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, hooks,

Ease and alternate labour, useful life,

Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven.”

— Thomson.

“ He (Cowper) had at one time five rabbits, three hares, two guinea-
pigs, a magpie, a jay, and a starling; besides two goldfinches, two canary-
birds, and two dogs. It is amazing how the three hares can find room
to gambol and frolic (as they certainly do) in his small parlour. I forgot
to enumerate a squirrel, which used to play with one of the hares con-
tinually.”—Lady Hesketh.

1

Eighteen hundred and twenty-four was the year which
changed the imaginary “ cousin ” of the foregoing cor-
respondence into an actual wife, and commenced the
happier half of Mr Wilson’s history.

With a very superior understanding, and with accom-
plishments of a high order, Mrs Wilson was able to appre-
ciate her husband’s rare endowments. Eond of natural
histoiy herself, she entered, with wifely zeal, into his va-
rious pursuits— his gardening, his literary labours, his
zoological friendships; and there was nothing beautiful in
nature 01 grand in authorship of which her appreciation,
so quick and true, did not double the enjoyment. At the
same time, as already indicated, her earlier experience of
the hopes and consolations conveyed in the gospel made
her pre-eminently a help-meet to one whose spirit was now
piepared to welcome a joy which the world can neither
give nor take away, and whose reserved but keenly obser-
vant nature required, rather than sermons or books, the
light of a living epistle; and, long before going hence, she

had the happiness of knowing how entire was that unison

H

114 WOODVILLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PURSUITS.

which purifies all other tastes, and survives all other rela-
tions.

Soon after their marriage, they took up their abode
at Woodville ; and it would be difficult to imagine a more
charming retreat than, in Mr Wilson’s possession, Wood-
ville became. Within a Sabbath-day’s journey of his
place of worship, the New Greyfriars’ Church, it was still
nearer to George Square, the dwelling-place of his vener-
able uncle, and, ere long, of one of his dearest and most
valued friends, Dr R K. Grevlle, and scarcely a bowshot
from the fine old Grange, where Sir T. D. Lauder might
be found any day, spinning Highland yarns, or overhaul-
ing his fishing-tackle. But, whilst half an hour could
transport him to the College Museum or the rooms of the
Royal Society, within his own inclosure he had all the
delights of a sylvan solitude. By good engineering a do-
main of two acres was made to supply, in respectable pro-
portions, orchard and lawn, flower-garden and shrubbery;
and snugly ensconced amidst the groves of Morningside,
it caught the whole sunshine of the winter noon, forgetful
of biting blasts and easterly fogs. In front the cottage
exhibited little more than the windows of its two public
rooms; but, internally, it was a commodious habitation,
and gave scope to that hospitality dear to the heart of the
owner, but for which there is not always space in the
“ cottage of gentility.” The library was, withal, the dining-

WOODVILLE.

115

room ; but, as befitted a philosopher’s sanctuary, its in-
tellectual features predominated. Like Sir Walter Scott,
wbo used sometimes to write with, sunshine on the paper,
Mr TVilson held that “ light is pleasant,” and betwixt a
southern window and the fire stood the writing table at
which most of Iris work was done. At one end of the
room was a much-cherished purchase of his youthful am-
bition, the cabinet which eventually held the entomological
spoils of nearly half a century; the remaining wall-space
being occupied with the works of Cuvier and Lamarck,
Dumeril and Bibron, “The British Birds” of Donovan,

The Omithologia Toscana” of Savi, “The German Insects”
of Panzer, and all the apparatus of a general zoologist.
As the genius of the place, from above the mantel-piece
flashed down the animated form and fiery eye of Audubon ;
and, in his own corner, Wordsworth drooped his heavy
brow and sombre face,— surrounded and surmounted by
the effigies of Selby, and Cuvier, and Lucien Bonaparte,
and other friends and correspondents.

Within these quiet precincts, and in the society of one
whom every day made dearer, the mornings came welcome
and the hours passed swiftly. The garden was itself an
endless occupation; and the time not required for literary
or scientific labour was absorbed in books. Amidst in-
fluences so friendly the heart of our invalid speedily
revived. Although he was never to become a Hercules,

11G WOODYILLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PUKSUITS.

and although it is too likely that, from this period, seeds
of mischief continued latent in his chest, his light, tall
figure learned again to climb the hills and achieve long
pedestrian journeys ; and, dispelled by domestic happiness,
and the growing clearness of a blessed hope, the shadows
which had frequently hovered over his spirit fled away,
occasional griefs notwithstanding. Nothing could be more
enviable than the habitual serenity of his remaining years.
Of the softness and tenderness acquired in the school of
affliction, there remained enough to make him a son of
consolation, with delicate perception of others' pain, and
happy skill in comforting ; at the same time, there was
that habitual sunny-heartedness which, rejoicing with the
joyful, brought new gladness into the midst of mirth,
inspiring with added glee the children’s sports and irra-
diating with its cordial suffusion the fireside circle.

Nor amongst the inhabitants of Woodville must we
forget the owner’s mute companions. Our own first
acquaintance with himself was in 183S, when the appari-
tion of a coati mondi and other curious creatures in the
yard of the adjoining house in George Square convinced
us that the Mr Wilson who had come to dwell next door
must be “ Mr Wilson the naturalist.” As the reader will
have perceived, by the affectionate inquiries regarding a
redbreast and chaffinch in one of the foregoing letters,
it was a strong attachment which he formed for such

THE KEDBEEAST.

117

favourites, wlietlier furred or feathered ; and to the store
of his enjoyments they made a material contribution. But,
like all favourites, they exercised a corresponding des-
potism. Not only had he to carry with him the coati
mondi in his migrations from the country to the town,
but he had often to surrender his own convenience to the
whims of canine humourists or prima donnas sulking in
their cages ; and so devoted was he to a glow-worm, which
he had fostered through many months, that he carried it
with him during a long tour in 1853, and was greatly
mortified when at last he lost it. He used to feed it at
breakfast-time by placing it in an egg-shell on the table,
and most likely the wrong shell had been put into the
box, and the poor lampyris left to waste its brightness on
the desert air of Skye. Of the robin above mentioned,
some traits have been preserved in Mr Syme's beautiful
volume on “ British Song-Birds —

“ We know a gentleman who last summer (1822)
caught a young redbreast, one of a brood just flown, in
his garden. A short time after, the bird was lost, several
days elapsed and robin did not appear ; when the gentle-
man, walking in the garden with a friend, saw a bird of
this species, which he thought very like his, hopping
among four or five others, that seemed to be all of the
same age. He requested his friend not to move, and
returned to the house for a few crumbs, which he held in

118 WOODVILLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PUKSUITS.

Ms hand, and calling ‘ Robbie ! ’ the bird appeared to re-
cognise the name it had been accustomed to, perched
upon his finger, and was instantly secured. The bird is
now, May 1823, in full plumage and singing delightfully;
he ranges at liberty through the room, for though he has
a large, light, and airy cage, the door of which stands
open, he seldom enters it. In the same room is a chaf-
finch, still more tame than the redbreast ; also a titmouse
and a mule bird ; but the moment they are out of their
cages, the redbreast pursues, attacks, and drives them
from place to place, so that he remains cock of the room.
If his master takes a seed of hemp, and calls ‘ Robbie ’ he
instantly flies at it, picks it from between the finger and
thumb, darts off, and this so rapidly that one cannot
detect how he extracts the seed He is very in-

quisitive, and it is amusing to observe him when anything
is brought into the apartment, such as books, paper, &c.
At first he advances with great caution ; but finding the
object motionless, he ventures nearer, hops round it, but
never appears content till he has got upon it, and never
quits it, unless disturbed, until he has examined it with
the eye of a curious inquirer. One morning, a roll of
paper, more than two feet long, being laid on the table,
Eobbie instantly saw it was a new object, flew to it,
hopped round and round it several times, and at last,
finding it impossible to satisfy himself without a narrower

THE CHAFFINCH.

119

inspection, he hopped in at the one end and out of the
other.”

Robbie came to an untimely end, having fallen the
victim of a cat, which, in a ruthless moment, extinguished
all his airs, and avenged the manes of many a worm.
His less pugnacious contemporary, the chaffinch, survived
for fifteen years, and “ Shilly,” as this old favourite was
called, was very tame, and much attached to his master.
When Mr Wilson spoke to him or approached his cage,
he always crested up the feathers of his head, and warbled
a peculiar song — a compliment which he never paid to
any stranger, except to that man all-loving and by all
beloved, the Rev. Daniel Wilkie. After becoming minister
of the New Grey friars’, when Mr Wilkie paid his first
visit to Woodville, he was shewn into a room where there
was no one to receive him save Shilly ; but on entering,
the master of the house was delighted to find the inti-
macy which had already sprung up between his shy bird
and his new pastor, — a love at first sight, in which the
tiny physiognomist confessed the same spell which often
subdued West Port savages, and which still makes his
saintly name a sound of endearment in the cottages of
Yester and Stonehouse. One morning, coming down to
breakfast, Mr Wilson said, “ I thought I saw Shilly
among some other shilfias in the garden,” and sure
enough the cage was empty ; but going out to the garden

120 WOODVILLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PURSUITS.

liis master called him by name, and instantly quitting a
flock of his congeners, he returned to the hand of his
owner, and resumed his life in the parlour. Such a cap-
tivity could not sour his spirit, and Shilly was a benevo-
lent old bachelor. He would sometimes carry about his
food in his bill, evidently desirous of sharing his morsel
with others ; and, probably unaware of the distinction
between spiders and insects, he more than once brought
his insect-loving patron choice specimens of the former,
and pressed on his acceptance the dainty dish. To gratify
this desire of feeding others was not difficult at Woodville.
There was seldom a summer which did not leave upon the
hands of its inhabitants orphan nestlings, or little “ feather-
less” foundlings ; and Shilly found scope for his kind assi-
duities in rearing one or other of these foster children.

Nothing came wrong. Hedgehogs and ichneumons,
dogs and rabbits, pigeons and jackdaws, cockatoos and
parrakeets, were equally welcome, and under a Noachian
patriarchate, all lived in surprising harmony. To these
must be added a host of occasional pensioners. When-
ever he took “ his walks abroad,” the lord of the manor
was sure to be followed by some of these humble re-
tainers,— sparrows, finches, and redbreasts, — for whom he
had pocketed a supply of bread at the breakfast-table,
and who, in process of time, would bring to his feet and
commend to his guardianship their rising families.

THE OWL AND THE EAVEN.

121

We confess that it was with such emotions as the sight
of dumb creatures seldom awakens, that, in January last,
we saw the few survivors of this gentle dominion — an
owl from Borrowdale, suggestive of Coleridge and “ Chris-
tabel,” and a raven, the legacy of Dr Patrick NeilL
Surely if the creation did not cease to groan, the lords of
that creation would possess some joys to which they at
piesent are strangers, if they moved about so benign in
their bearing that the beasts of the field felt assured in
their presence, and so bountiful in their alms-giving as to
attach the very fowls of the firmament. As in the case
of the poet Cowper— whom Mr Wilson in his playfulness
and gentleness, as well as in his pensive and poetic attri-
butes, so remarkably resembled— this love of the lower
animals was only the outer zone of a comprehensive kind-
liness of nature, which, giving the loaf to the fellow-man,
had crumbs for the fellow-creatures ; and, as in the case
of the Olney bard, the bread cast on the winds and the
waters was found again. It was repaid in the friendly
look of every season, and in the recognising responsive
aspect of the whole creation. It came flying back on the
wings of swifts and swallows ; hints and reminiscences
of it were warbled in Alpine solitudes, and in the glens
of Arran; and the storms of December brought it home
again to Woodville, tapping at the window, or twittering
with a summery sound amidst the falling snow.

122

WOODVILLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PURSUITS.

The graver pursuits of Woodville were different branches
of natural history. To his entomological cabinet he con-
tinued to add till it became one of the largest private
collections in Scotland ; and in the cognate departments,
his attainments were such as to leave him few equals in
general zoological knowledge. Tor such employments
the time was propitious. In popular taste there is a
rotation of the sciences ; and just as the century closed
with Herschel and astronomy, and as the discoveries of
Davy next gave eclat to chemistry, so, thirty years ago,
and most likely as a consequence of the beautiful general-
isations of Cuvier, animated nature began to attract the
attention which had hitherto oscillated betwixt suns on
the one side and atoms on the other. Splendid folios
introduced to the drawing-rooms of peers and princes the
creatures of other lands, in all their forms of beauty,
grotesqueness, or magnificence; and whilst the pages of
Jesse, Waterton, and Kirby amused the general reader,
the “Library of Entertaining Knowledge/’ and other
clever compilations, brought the subject within the reach
of the humblest resources ; to which we must not forget
to add the new spirit which began to pervade collections
like the National Museum, and the gathering together of
great animal assemblages in beautiful parks and gardens,
of which the crowning specimen is now exhibited by the
Zoological Society, in its magnificent menagerie.

ILLUSTRATIONS OF ZOOLOGY.

123

It was at this time that Mr Wilson began to publish
his “ Illustrations of Zoology.” It was a series of elabo-
rate plates, of a large size, and accompanied by cle-
scriptive letterpress, and was designed to be a receptacle
for new or remarkable species in the various classes of
the animal kingdom. He was himself a good draughts-
man, and in this work he had the assistance of an admir-
able artist, Mr P. Syme. One handsome volume was
completed, but before he could proceed further, he had
become committed to a more arduous undertaking.

The following letters throw some light on these pur-
suits, and they also shew the unselfishness and mutual
helpfulness by which it were devoutly to be desired that
all fellow-labourers in the fields of science were equally
distinguished.

TO SIR WILLIAM JARDINE, BART.

“ Woodville, Canaan, Edinburgh,

9 th February 1827.

“ Dear Sir William,— I this day had the pleasure
to procure a copy of your work, and promised myself a
high treat by my cottage fireside this evening; but having
a meeting with Mr Lizars at Mr Blackwood’s about my
own concerns, I found, when half-way home, that I had
put a wrong book under my arm, and left yours on Mr
B/s table. However, I shah send for it to-morrow morn-

124 WOODVILLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PURSUITS.

ing. I liave, some time ago, finished my text for my first
number, and hope to get on quickly with the printing and
other preliminaries. I am so anxious to represent my mis-
cellaneous articles at full length as often as possible, that
I have chosen a very large form, a sort of quarto, a good
deal higher than broad, approaching to the folio form.
The chief disadvantage of this is the great price of the
paper, which, I am afraid, will make the work dearer than
I had myself calculated upon. As I am only to have four
plates, I hoped they might have been got up, letterpress
and all, for at most ten or twelve shillings a number ; but
they talk of fifteen or sixteen as the lowest ; which I am
sorry for, as the public, however friendly, don’t like such
taxes. I think your own work very reasonable.

“ I am anxious to have in an early number, if not the
first, that long-tailed fellow, the quezal, from Vera Paez,
to whose magnificent train, from my large paper, I could
do ample justice. Mr Schenley, who brought the bird
home, has kindly offered to procure me access to the
specimen in London, which he presented to Mr Canning
— that in the College Museum being incomplete in the
plumage of the tail. But I would almost rather try my
hand at the latter specimen than be at the trouble and
expense of ordering a drawing to be made by some one
whose skill I have not proved, and with whose perform-
ance I might not be satisfied. I was told, however, some

GOLDEN TROGON.

125

time ago, either by John Wilson or his wife, that a draw-
ing had been made of Mr Schenley’s specimen by Mr
Syme, and, as he or she believed, for you. Now, perhaps,
you will be so good as let me know, before I fix upon
either getting some one in London to draw Mr Canning’s,
or doing one here myself, whether Mr Syme’s drawing is
your private property or not. In the former case, I would
not, of course, make any inquiries at Mr Syme’s ; in the
latter, I might be tempted to enter into some negotiation
about it.

“ P There is a New Holland gull in the Edinburo’h
Museum, with a deep-red bill, which I should like you to
look at. It seems to agree with a bird described, if I re-
member right, in the ‘Wernerian Memoirs,’ by Dr Traill,
under the name of Larus Scoresbii I don’t know whether
it has yet been figured.’"

TO P. S. SELBY, ESQ.

“ Woodviixe, 5tli February 1828.

Dear Sii, I had some thoughts of figuring ere long
Brunnich s Guillemot (which you will find described in
Temminck s Manuel, p. 924), as the distinctions between
it and Hi ici troile have not been sufficiently illustrated.

I find, however, that it occurs in the Orkney Islands, and
have no doubt it will also be found along our own shores.
Do you consider it as a British bird ? If so, and if you

126 W00DV1LLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PURSUITS.

propose figuring it in . your own work, I shall either not
meddle with it, or shall reserve my drawing for your use,
in the event of your not being able to get a better else-
where. I intend to lay it down as a rule not to meddle
with the British birds, to which at all times you do such
ample justice ; and, that I may adhere the more strictly to
this intention, I shall be obliged by your letting me know
at your leisure whether you propose to publish the caper-
cailzie (cock and hen), as Professor Jameson lately ex-
pressed a wish that I should figure those in the Museum.
As the species was not included in your first part — £ Land
Birds ’■ — he probably thought you did not intend having
anything to do with them. However, as I would rather
see them in your work than in my own, I shall be guided
by what you say.

“ I lately received a beautiful drawing of a live ocelot
from Liverpool, and an extraordinary fish (of the genus
Syngnathus ) from New Holland.”

TO SIR WILLIAM JARDINE, BART.

“ Elleray, Bowness, Kendal,
2d December 1828.

"Dear Sir William, — .... When I came through
Penrith I made inquiries for an old collector of the name
of Graham, from whom I thought it likely I might have
procured you a well-conditioned specimen of honey-buz-

HONEY-BUZZARDS AND CROSS-BILLS. 127

sard, as I happened to know that lie had several times
shot that bird in Lord Lonsdale’s grounds ; but, * alas,
poor Yorick !’ I found that, about two years ago, he had
gone the way of all flesh, and that his collection was
entirely dispersed. His place was not occupied by any
one in the same line ; so my mission, quoad F. [Perm's]
a/pivorus, failed.

“ I hear of nothing interesting here at present. The
fall of the leaf enables one to watch the habits of the
smaller forest-birds, such as tit-mice, &c. Both the cole
and long-tailed tit-mice are in great abundance, and very
active. I also see the golden-crested wren, the creeper,
and, more rarely, the nut-hatch. There is also, not far
from this, a large flock of cross-bills, now considerably
reduced by amateurs and country sportsmen. At first
there appeared to be about sixty of them, now between
thirty and forty. The char-fishing has commenced, but
with little success as yet.

“ In regard to the entomological duplicates which you
specify, the only one I can promise for certain is Ar~
iaxerxes. I have one spare specimen of Blandina ; but,
if I part with it, I think it is bespoke. A single specimen
vas taken for the first time near Edinburgh the summer
before last. I have no duplicates at present of the others
} ou mention, but shall keep them for you if they occur.”

128 WOODVILLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PURSUITS.

TO SIR W. JARDINE, BART.

“ Woodvjxle, 23 th April 1829.

“Dear Sir William, — I had yesterday afternoon the
pleasure to receive your letter of the 24th, accompanied
by a small box of insects, for both of which I am much
obliged. Since I saw you I have twice been laid up with
a bad sore throat and cold, and have not ventured from
home except on one occasion, when I joined the Scottish
Academicians at their late feed in Waterloo Place. I was
not much the better of that excursion, though I had the
satisfaction to meet Mr Selby and others, whom I don’t
incline to miss.

“In regard to Lophophorus Nigelli, I have never even
seen it since it was stuffed, having scarcely been in the
Museum this year. Indeed, it is certainly not there; but
I shall find it out the very first day that I have it in my
power to leave home, and shall immediately make up
some notes upon it, which you will be so good as alter
and amend, or put into any form you think proper. I
had the subject in view some months ago, and went into
town to see what could be picked up concerning the
genus in general, in one of the Dictionaries of Natural
History; but all I got for my pains was the following
useful information : ‘ Lophophore — Yoyez Monaul;'’ and

ENCYCLOPAEDIA BEITANNICA.

129

then, ‘Monctul — Voyez Lophophore/ which is not parti-
cularly explicit.

“ If you wish to draw one or two of the females of the
new grouse you saw with me, arrange your plans so as
' to pass some clays here in the course of the summer, and
whatever accommodation this humble roof affords, will
be at your service. I suppose I ought to write to Mr
Sabine in the first place, to ask his leave before altering
their destination. I have a good deal on hand of other
kind of matters, and I don’t think I will have time or
patience to draw the females of such as greatly resemble
their males.

“ I wish you would furnish me with the names of any
of the recent works on .natural history, systematic or
otherwise, which you think would aid me in the forma-
tion of the encyclopaedia articles which I have undertaken
to contribute to the new edition of the ‘Britannica/ If
you have any notes of species which you would like to
see entered in that work, I shall be glad to receive them,
and acknowledge publicly the source from which they are
derived. The management and control of the whole
zoological department have been offered to me, and upon
very liberal terms ; and although there are many depart-
ments which I am quite incompetent to work at, yet I
have nearly agreed to engage for the whole, with the view
of receiving assistance from others, whom I shall remu-

1 30 WOODVILLE *. ITS PETS AND ITS PURSUITS.

nerate according to the terms which I myself receive. I
have not matured my plans, but I think it likely that I
shall myself attempt ‘Mammalia,’ ‘Ornithology/ ‘Rep-
tilia/ ‘Arachnides/ and ‘Entomology/ leaving ‘Ichthyo-
logy/ ‘Mollusca/ ‘Vermes/ ‘Crustacea/ and ‘ Zoophytes ’
for further consideration. Under these ten great heads
may, I think, be presented a compendious view of the
animal kingdom, commonly so called. I shall greatly
value any assistance or advice you may be pleased to give
me in these matters.”

The labour involved in this enterprise was immense ;
but it was spread over many years, and the subject was
to his heart’s content. Taking the articles in their final
form, and as they have appeared in the edition of the
‘ Encyclopaedia Britamiica ’ now in progress,* the follow-
ing is their extent as nearly as we can estimate : —

Angling,

19 pages.

Animal Kingdom, .

25 „

Animalcula, ....

20 „

Bee, .....

3 „

Entomology, ....

265 „

Fisheries, ....

61 „

Hehninthology,

17 „

* Of course including Ichthyology, and the other articles, which he
did not live to revise for the new edition.

THE REGULATION STYLE.

131

Ichthyology, .... 90 pages.

Mammalia, . . . . 121 „

Ornithology, .... 95 „

Reptiles and Serpents, . 73 „

Nine hundred pages of such close quarto letterpress

are nearly equal to nine ordinary octavo volumes ; and
when it is remembered what myriads of facts these con-
tributions contain, many of them only ascertainable by
consulting a variety of conflicting authorities, the reader
will have some conception of the varied knowledge and
diligent research of which these pages are the durable
lecoid. But seldom have the results of research been
brought out in a style so agreeable. Before Mr Wilson's
time it had been usual to reduce encyclopaedia articles to
a certain respectable uniformity of style, and, like the
mixed multitude of steeds and donkeys in an old-fashioned
diligence, the contributors were not only expected to pull
together, but were required to maintain the self-same
pace. Mr Wilson asserted his individuality. Although
writing for a dictionary, he was not haunted by the fear
of prigs and pedants, but allowed his bright and genial
nature to come freely forth, and in the pleasure with
which his articles were read, he found the justification
of so wise a frankness. The severely scientific might be
jealous of so much poetry, and more jealous still of so
much plain English; but he knew what he was doino-

132 WOODVILLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PURSUITS.

and as lie held along his path, for the sake of the like-
minded he still scattered pearls, well wotting that in the
same track the rasorial searchers after grubs and grains
would also find their food convenient.

His bold experiment succeeded. Encyclopaedias are no
longer the monopoly of literary dustmen and museum-
cinder-sifters, but are repositories in which true and able
men may be glad to treasure up their thoughts as well as
to expound their great discoveries. And much as Dr
Dryasdust mourns over it, a new volume is welcomed
like a new quarterly, and Macaulay is as eloquent, and
Doran as entertaining, and Goldwin Smith as masterly as
if he had no dull or hum-drum neighbours. All honour
to James Wilson for having the courage to wear his own
attire and speak his own idiom, in what till then had
been the Quaker-town of English literature.

To go over these nine hundred pages we have found
anything but a drudgery — the surest sign that to the
author there was no sense of drudgery in compiling them.
Not only did he love the subject, but in the business of
composition he had enviable facility and great enjoyment.
Of course, there was a large amount of toil involved in
bringing his materials together, but as soon as he had
mastered the topic and collected his authorities, the pen
ran fast and the thought flowed free. So eminently
social was his turn, that he preferred to study in the

HABITS OF STUDY.

133

midst of his family. Their talking did not interrupt
him ; and as Mrs Wilson liked to listen to reading whilst
going on with her work, it was not unusual for one of
the party to be reading aloud one book whilst he himself
was busy writing another. In this way it is remembered
that he wrote the whole of his work on Angling, whilst,
owing to the accession of a lively visitor, a brisk current
of conversation was circulating around him day by day,
into which, without any absolute pause in his employ-
ment, he dipped occasionally — thus encouraging that
cheerfulness in others, which to his own kind spirit was
the most quickening music.

Simultaneously with his encyclopaedia articles, Mr
Wilson was engaged in a lighter but kindred task.
Amongst the various undertakings to which Constable's

Miscellany gave rise, and which brought a large supply
of sound information within the reach of every reader, no
one was more judiciously planned or more conscientiously
carried out than “ The Edinburgh Cabinet Library." Its
object was to give a geographical and historical panorama
of the world, taking its chief races and regions one by
one. By a wise distribution of labour, superior treatment
was secured for every subject ; and the zoology of Africa,

India, China, and North America, was contributed by Mr
Wilson.

This chapter on the early days at “ Canaan ” may be

1 3-1 WOODVILLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PURSUITS.

fitly concluded by an extract from a letter to a near and
mucli-loved relative : —

“ Woodville, 2 Glh May 1831.

“ You will be delighted to hear that Isabella has been
in prodigious good case for some time back. We have
commenced our cuddy-ass excursions, and intend to con-
tinue them steadily. The beast is much improved in its
paces, and, with a great deal of the grace and dignity of
the higher quadrupeds, exhibits nothing of that perverse
obstinacy to which so many asses, both human and brute,
are entitled to lay claim, and of which the claims are
admitted by a considerate and cuddy-consoling, though
sometimes inconsistent world.

“ In regard to ornithology, you will be glad to hear
that our corner green-lintie’s (linnet’s) nest was more for-
tunate in escaping the eyes and fingers of bakers’ and
butchers’ boys than we could have looked for, considering
its exposed situation. I think when you left us they had
scarcely ceased to be, in the words of the late Dr Andrew
Thomson, c a small family of featherless children but
the Woodville air agreed so well with them that their
heads and tails hung over the sides of the nest, as if they
had been intended for a larger domicile. We looked
daily for their taking flight of their own accord, when one
morning two of the young Adies called, and expressed a

THE LINNETS’ NESTS.

135

great wish for a pair of greenies. So I went to the nest,
and was in the act of stretching out my hand to help my-
self, when out sprung two of the strongest and uppermost,
. and spouted across the avenue. The youngest of the
family, however, who had all along been much tyrannised
over by his brothers and sisters, remained in the forsaken
dwelling, swelled out his wings, and stretched his hind
legs in such a manner as to say very clearly that their
absence was good company. But the hands of the Philis-
tines were soon upon him, and he was hauled, nolens
volens, from his mossy bed, and handed over to fair
Hciidee. As, however, a pair were required, I made an
excursion to the evergreen where yours were born and
bred last year, and there I succeeded in securing another,
although his elder brother also took it into his head to
spout out of his nest when he saw me coming. Indeed,
the whole of our troops are prepared for revolt, and won’t
even eat their dinners unless they get * the bill, the whole
bill, and nothing but the bill.’ In the same bush with
the last-named nest there is also a delightful group of
young blackbirds j and throughout the garden various
other nests are in different states and stages. The one in
the porch is still in safety ; but the mother seems to suffer
greatly fiom heat, and sits with her neb generally open.

I suppose she wishes it to pass for a reform-bill. We
ha\ e got Mr Aclie s sea-maw, which is already quite at

1 36 WOODVILLE : ITS PETS AND ITS PURSUITS.

home. All our other pets are well, both the feathered,
and the bombazined and ginghamed. I dined one day,
a while ago, with Dr Greville ; but the family were still
at Lasswade. We had Dr Scott of Corstorphine. I
preached and presided, but Dr S. said grace : nobody

returned thanks. Old is still alive, but not kicking.

He rang his bell t’other morning, but had, very sensibly,
first bolted the door in the inside, which only made his
daughter wring her hands on the outside. At last, I

believe, Dr crept in through the key whole, and

found all as usual.”

CHAPTER Y.

%\t liters atiir %

“ How lonesome ! how wild ! yet the wildness is rife
With the stir of enjoyment, the spirit of life.

The glad fish leaps up in the heart of the lake,

Whose depths at the sullen plunge sullenly quake.

Elate on the fern-branch the grasshopper sings.

And away in the midst of his roundelay springs ; , . .
While high up the mountains, in silence remote,

The cuckoo unseen is repeating his note,

And mellowing echo, on watch in the skies,

Like a voice from some loftier climate replies.”

— Joln Wilson.

“ Entered Fox How and the birch copse at 9.25, and here ends journal.
We found all our dear children well, and Fox How in such beauty, that
no scene in Italy appeared in my eyes comparable to it.”— Dr Arnold.

Those who are called practical people enjoy many advan-
tages over sucli of their fellows as are afflicted with keen
sensibilities, and not the least advantage is the ease with
which they set out on their travels. They are troubled
with no qualms at parting ; in long letters homeward
they waste none of the hours sacred to slumber ; and
having slipped the collar before starting, they drag no
load of ever-lengthening chain. On Friday night a prac-
tical man announces that lie has made his arrangements
for a six- weeks furlough ; orders breakfast at a quarter
to eight next morning, packs his portmanteau, replenishes
his flask of eau cle vie, and after a general “ Good-bye,”
jumps into the Hansom bound for London Bridge or
Euston Square. Perhaps a tear stood in some one s eye
as he shouted “ All right • but then wives and sisters
have a way of shedding tears, and they could never dream
of sharing the trip ; for, to say nothing of the expense, it
is their business to be “ keepers at home.” So making
.up his mind that they will all, as in duty bound, keep
well and happy until his return, he hies forth on his own

140

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

holiday, a light-armed traveller, with little luggage and no
care, as buoyant as a lark, as merry as a sailor.

But to this self-contained compactness Mr Wilson was
a stranger. The best of his life was that which he lived
in others, and to him it was hardly a holiday unless his
home went with him. Besides, bravely as she bore up,
he could not forget that his "wife was a frequent in-
valid ; and whenever he went forth on any journey he
carried with him the anxious forebodings which a busy
imagination is sure to suggest to a fond affection. It
was, therefore, very seldom that he could be persuaded to
join those more distant expeditions which separated him
from the domestic circle. However fascinating to the
angler and the enthusiastic lover of nature might be the
prospect of new landscapes and noble rivers, it could not
tempt the husband and the father.

Nevertheless, in three successive summers he was in-
duced to accompany Professor Graham and his botanising
companions in their excursions to the mountains of
Forfarshire and Sutherland. In the wilder regions the
accommodation was sometimes of the most primitive de-
scription, and a party of twenty pedestrians would sleep
in a hay-loft, or on the floor of the one spare room in a
little public-house, or even in a mountain shielling with-
out glass to the windows. On more than one occasion
they were accompanied by a naval officer whose feats of

BOTANICAL EXCUESIONS.

141

snoring Mr Wilson used merrily to describe as something
prodigious. The first night he kept the whole party awake
listening to his astounding performances. The second
night he was voted into a separate room, along with a
* deaf old gardener who was proof against ordinary noises.
In the morning his room-mate was asked how he had
slept. “ I never slept a wink. He gart the very bed dirl
under him/’* At last it became needful to extort a
solemn pledge that, by way of giving all his neighbours
a chance, the gallant captain would not lay his head on
the pillow till quarter an hour after his comrades — a
pledge which he kept with gay good humour, sitting up,
stop-watch in hand, till the company had a fair start of
fifteen minutes ; but woe betide the luckless wretch who
could not gain the arms of Morpheus before Triton
sounded his trumpet.

In these excursions he had many delightful associates,
and there he commenced a life-long acquaintance with
Professor Balfour, with the late Martin Barry, one of the
manliest of Quakers and most endearing of men,f and
with the highly-gifted Edward Eorbes. Speaking of the

* That is, the diapason made the very bed-stead tingle.

*t* Dr Martin Barry published in the Edinburgh Philosophical Journal
(new series, vol. xviii. p. 106) an ascent of Mont Blanc which he ac-
complished Sept. IS, 1834, when such an exploit was not the occurrence
of every season. He was the twentieth individual and the twelfth
Englishman who succeeded in reaching the summit.

142

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

Sutherland tour of 1833, our friend Mr James Macaulay
tells us : — “ The two who had greatest similarity and
sympathy of pursuits were Mr Wilson and Dr Greville,
both keen anglers and entomologists. There were two or
three others who combined sport with zoology. In the
evenings all used to meet at an appointed rendezvous,
and, at the pleasant gathering round the table, James
Wilson was the life of the party. He was a great
favourite with the young students, to whom he was
always ready to give information and advice in those
branches of natural history, with which the chief, Pro-
fessor Graham, a man of like geniality and disposition,
was less familiar. There never was a man in whom
humour and good sense, cheerfulness and gravity, were
blended in happier proportions.’'’

The first of the following letters to Mrs Wilson is from
Clova, Porfarshire, Aug. 5, 1831.

“ I know, my dear love, that you will be anxious to
receive a line or two from your husband, the more espe-
cially as that husband was not quite in his usual con-
dition when he departed most unwillingly from his own
beloved roof. I much fear, from what I hear of the state
of roads and letter-carriers in this part of the world, that
these lines will be longer than I desire of meeting your
eyes ; and this consideration is the' source of some uneasi-

HEY-DAYS AND (k)NIGHTS OF STRAW. 143

ness to myself at present, when I sinfully incline to view
everything in its most comfortless light. However, I
trust you are bearing in mind what I said on my depar-
ture, and are not so uneasy as you would otherwise have
* been. Did my opportunities correspond with my heart s
desire, no hour would pass without a communication ;
for I can safely say that scarcely a waking moment has
been spent otherwise than in thinking of those I have left
behind

“ We breakfasted at Cupar on beef-steaks and salmon,
and reached Forfar about three o'clock. There we hired
a cart for our knapsacks, and also bought thirty or forty
threepenny loaves and a round of cold beef, and started
on foot for this little hamlet, which is situated in a wild,
secluded valley, through the centre of wdiich flows the
South Esk. At Forfar we had previously regaled our-
selves on cheese and bread, and ale ; and, in the course of
our pedestrian progress, in the evening we got bannocks
and milk in a cottage by the road-side. It was past ten
before we got to Clova, where we regaled ourselves on tea
and bread, and went to bed thereafter. The bed for the
greater part of the party consisted of a layer of hay upon
the floor, with a blanket or two over the top of it. I was
voted into one of the two beds, properly so called, out of
respect, I suppose, to my years and reverend character;
and although I resisted this indulgence for some time, I

144

THE MOORS AND THE MOUNTAINS.

was forced to submit to the kindness of my fellow-tra-
vellers. My chief pleasure in so doing arises from know-
ing that you would feel pleasure from knowing that I was
comfortable, or rather from being told that I had been
so. I was much refreshed by a sound sleep, and awoke
about a quarter past six with the unaccustomed feeling
that I had got enough. My neighbours were by this time
stirring in the adjoining room ; so I got up, and we
breakfasted a little after seven. Most of the party started
for the hills to collect their plants, and I took my rod and
fished up the river about three miles and back again, and
lulled five dozen of trouts. Two others who also tried
angling killed three dozen between them ; so we had a
pleasant addition to our dinner. I returned to the house
in good time ; but it was towards seven before the botanists
descended from the mountains. They got many rare and
curious plants, the arrangement and pressure of which
presented a busy candle-light scene for some hours in the
evening.

“ God bless my darling children. I hope and pray that
they are well. I shall be at the Castletown of Braemar
early on Wednesday ; and I hope my Monday letter may
reach me then. I think I begin to derive benefit from the
fresh air and exercise ; but my disease still hangs about
me in regard to miserable apprehensions, which the good-
ness of God will, I trust, ere long shew to be unfounded.

A VETERAN ENTOMOLOGIST.

145

I feel the wickedness of such feelings, surrounded as I am
by so many of the glories of Omnipotent Wisdom, and
reading, as I do daily, that “ He will never leave nor for-
sake us ; but still I cannot help thinking every moment
Jthat I left you not quite well, and that you may be worse.
We are preparing for a very early bed, and as soon as the
things are taken away, the hay will be spread upon the
floor. Kiss my children for me, my dearest ; and think
night and day with affection of your unaltered and un-
alterable friend and husband, now and ever,

“ James Wilson.”

On his way to the Clova rendezvous next year (1832),
he paid a visit to a noted insect-collector, Mr My hie, of
Johnshaven.

“ Brechin, 1s< Avgust 1832.

“ After breakfast, I despatched my card to Mr Mylne,
requesting to know if I might wait on him that morn-
ing. I received a written reply, begging me to come
when convenient ; so down I goes to the house. Johns-
haven is a sort of small Stonehaven. It lies along the
shore, and has a few decent-looking houses, built of dark
gray stone, intermixed with small shops and the huts of the
fishermen. In one of the better houses I found Mr Mylne
an old man, rather frail, with gray hair, a long pale

face, lank wrists, and red eyes,— very like what I shall be

K

146

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

myself when approaching my eightieth year. He received
me very kindly, introduced me to his sister, Mrs Gregory,
an old woman of the stocking-knitting kind, with a pair of
spectacles ; and a niece, whose name was Catherine. We
commenced our entomological studies instanter, the niece
handing out drawer after drawer from the side cabinets,
and placing them on the table in front. The collection is
very fine, and consists of all the orders. My impression
was that he was rich chiefly in Lepidoptera ; but the
Coleoptera are also very numerous and valuable. The
specimens are almost all very perfect ; but they are, in a
good many instances, obscured by a whitish mould, from
not having been often enough aired. Mrs Gregory wanted
to wash them with soap and water ; but the old gentleman
would not ‘ hear of it/ We took from about half-past ten
till three merely in giving a cursory glance. There are, I
think, about one hundred and sixty drawers. They re-
quested me to stay dinner, which I did. By five I was on
my legs again, and off on foot to Brechin. At the inn I
had a tender parting with the fat landlady. During my
absence she had been reading, or trying to read, Keble’s

‘ Christian Year,’ and had discovered M ’s sweet lock

of hair. I told her its history in such a way as to bring
tears to the good woman’s eyes ; and, that she might con-
t, inn e speaking about the ‘ darlin’ wee crater,’ as she called
our lassie, she accompanied me through the village, and up

CLOVA.

147

the brow of the hill, as far as the public road. We there
shook hands, and parted. I now retraced my steps a few
miles on the Montrose road, and then, by means of that
fine local instinct for which I am remarkable, I crossed the
* countiy to the right hand, by Langley Park, the manse of
Dim, &c, and arrived here about ten o’clock last night,
after a pleasant tramp of about sixteen miles. I now
intend treating myself to a gig to Cortachy, after which I
shah have only eight miles to walk. In a few hours,
therefore, I hope to be in the arms of Graham and
Greville. I was in the King’s Arms all last night.
Now, my dearest, I hope and pray that this will find you
well. I assure you that I am so, and quite comfortable,
mind and body. God bless you.— Ever, &c.

“P.S.— Kemember to take in the mouse.”

“ Clova, Friday evening.

“ 1 wrote y°u a few lines from Brechin, after which I
embarked on board my gig, from which I dismounted at
Cortachy. I had not walked fifty yards before I overtook
the son of our Clova landlord in a cart. I remembered
his phiz from last year, and after we had interchanged
greetings by means of broad grins, I favoured him with
my lod and fishing basket, which greatly lightened my
own load. I had then a cool pleasant walk to Clova,
where I foimd the party at dinner and tea conjoined. I

148

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

was welcomed very heartily, — Graham, Greville, and the
young American, Green, being the only individuals I had
previously seen of the party. The rest are students, six-
teen or seventeen in all, ourself included.

“ The day after I arrived we went up to the head of
this valley, as far as Loch Esk, where several botanised,
and a few fished. The day was too calm for the latter
exercise, and we had no great sport ; but I had the satis-
faction of being the victor by about twice the number of
the others. We had milk and water, with do. and
whisky, at a little forlorn and romantic shooting-hut of
Sir John Ogilvy’s, about a thousand miles up in the air.
We had also Sandwich Islands in our pockets. I have
already been fortunate in getting some good insects ;
among others, four fine specimens of Cardbus glabratus,
a large beetle which you will find among my carabi with
broken elytra.

“ To-day I fished in Loch Brandy, one of my haunts of
last year. We had no great sport. I called two dozen

and two, Greville nineteen, T. W thirteen. I can

scarcely believe that I have been here only two days —
such a bustle and botanising. But oh ! the snoring and
snorting that take place at night. Drs Graham, Greville,
Wight, Green, and myself, sleep quietly in one room, part
of us in two beds, and the rest upon the floor. In the
other room the scene is extraordinary, for there the floor

BLAIK- ATHOL.

149

is covered from end to end with students in different
states of graduation. This season we have plenty of prog.
W e breakfast about seven. Various parties start in
various directions, each furnished with a pocket-com-
- panion to sustain life. Some return at five, some at
seven, and some not till nine. The butcher-meat is
mostly cold, except the potatoes and fish, so that a few
minutes are enough to prepare the meal of each squadron
as it arrives. They have got some fine plants, greatly to
my inconvenience as a scribe, for the long table is covered
with their collections, and there is little or no elbow-
room.

“ Remember me to the darlings, and tell J about

C. glabratus on the tops of the high hills. There are
millions of moths upon the moors, and beetles under
every stone. I will shew him my collection whenever I
get home, and give him some to himself.”

“Manse of Blaik-Athol,

12 th August 1832.

“We arrived here last night, after a stout walk of
upwards of thirty miles across the mountains from
Braemar to the head of Glen Tilt, and so down the
valley to this snug dwelling, where we have been re-
ceived with great kindness, and enjoy every comfort

except, £ Home, sweet home!' the delights of which,

150

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

though sung in the hackneyed strains of dirty boys
and blackguard ballad-mongers, are at this moment to
me the most inspiring and the most refreshing subjects
of reflection. Many a time have I looked at the lassie’s
lock of golden hair ; many a time, on the barren sum-
mits of the everlasting hills, have I hung over it and
prayed that the sweet head from which it was severed
might be protected from evil. When the sun rose and
scattered the mountain vapours, which in our Alpine
habitations sometimes lay low beneath our feet, I thought
how the sweet summits of Blackford would be also
brightened by his beams ; and when the golden splen-
dour of the west, with its magnificent array of purple
mountains, the ‘ dark Loch-na-gar ’ and the giant peaks
of the Cairngorm range, betokened the decline of day, I
thought of the reflected light of our own quiet Pentlands,
and how mamma might be sitting at her own sweet
window, thinking, perhaps, of her husband who never
ceases to think of and to pray for her. Although I
should have been truly grateful to have found on my
arrival here that my dearest had been keeping well, I
had yet so far made up my mind to the probability of
hearing the reverse ; and although I was disappointed
after all, I fervently hope by this time that the enemy
is gone.”

STEW ARTFIELD.

151

“ Stewartfield, 16<7i, August 1832.

“When I was taking my saunter before breakfast
among the dew-besprinkled larches of this sweet solitude,
the flunkey came down upon me from the house with
your most welcome epistle. It refreshes my heart's core
to hear such good accounts of your health, and it is my
morning, and evening, and mid-day prayer that the same
delightful state should continue. I have to thank you
for such long and particular accounts, and I will not at
present quarrel with your anxieties on my account;
although I was in hopes, from what I had said as to the
frequent intervals which must elapse between my letters,
you would have made up your mind to what was un-
avoidable. Even during what has certainly been a period
of enjoyment, I have often wished that I had wings that
I might flee away to my much-loved home, and be at rest
in the society of those who are now dearer to me than all
the world besides. But I knew that you dwelt under the
shadow of those Almighty wings which encompass the
world, and I felt satisfied that no plague would come
nigh your dwelling. I am, indeed, most thankful that
you now enjoy your sweet home. I had previously re-
joiced in your last letter addressed to Blair- Athol, and
yesterday morning Dr Greville and myself, with elastic
heels and light hearts, bade adieu to our kind friends at
the manse, and walked down the country through the

152

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

Pass of Killiecrankie to Stewartficld, — a walk for pictu-
resque beauty unsurpassed by almost anything I have ever
seen. I wish I could picture the gray crags, the w'eeping
birches, the open glades, the windings of the crystal river,
and over all the summits of the granite mountains, with
their dark ravines and blooming heather, and I would
send you such a panorama as eye never saw. Hundreds
of times, every few miles, did I wish you by my side ;
and I sometimes felt inclined to shut my eyes upon the
most beautiful scenes, from a feeling of its being selfish
to behold the face of nature under so fair an aspect when
my beloved wife was, perhaps, even then shut up in the
dim seclusion of a sick- chamber.

“ Unluckily, we have never had a regular rainy day for
journalising ; and as my time here is so short, I feel
assured you will prefer my looking about me, that I may
have it in my power to tell you what is to be seen, rather
than that I should sit down to write you about what I
have yet scarcely seen, viz., the beauties of StewartfielcL
It is really a delightful and romantic spot — a sort of little
Elleray on the hill-top, with higher hills behind, and well
screened with wood.

“ The minister’s family at Blair were extremely kind
When I mentioned our intention of staying here for a
day, the conversation branched towards the inhabitants of
Stewartfield ; and when Mrs Stewart said, ‘Can you tell

A GOOD MAN’S DEPARTURE.

153

me, Mr Wilson, what has become of a Miss Isabella Keith
that I remember about Edinburgh?’ I could only answer,
drily, as they say in the play, that if she meant my wife,
she was still a respectable sort of a woman, and, at the pre-
sent time, in better health than usual. I was sorry after-
wards that I had not humoured the joke by saying that
you had got into a sad scrape some years ago by marrying
a ne’er-do-weel of the name of Wilson, and that neither
of them had ever been heard of since. As it was, how-
ever, the question and answer led to some amusement
among us.

“ I have gone thus far, my dearest, without alluding to
that most affecting and afflicting intelligence conveyed in
your letter the death of that beneficent Christian and
kind-hearted man, George White. Like many other
mysterious dispensations, it is difficult to realise; but,
alas ! it is true. The happy believer is at rest for ever.
As to his family, humanly speaking, the loss is irrepar-
able; but He who pours His blessed balm into the widow’s
soul, till her heart does sing for joy, will be their stay in
this their hour of desolation ; and we know that the chil-
dren of a righteous man are not seen ‘ begging bread.’ "

The next letter, in a clear and careful hand, is to his
little daughter : —

154

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

“ Dollar, Monday night, 20 th August 1832.

'* My deae, sweet Lassie, — I wish to tell you a secret,
which I hope will make you very glad — I expect to be
home on Wednesday evening to my own Woodville. Don’t
tell this to Mamma, Henny, or Johnny, but just make
them guess. You must all sit up to supper that night, if
mamma is well ; and we will all be so happy. I have been
a long time away from home, and will be real glad to get
back. I hope you have both been good children, and I
expect to find you improved in your reading, writing, and
spelling. I have got a great many beetles and a good
many butterflies. Perhaps you have seen the beetles, as
they went home with Uncle Greville, who promised to call
very soon at Woodville, to tell mamma about papa. I
have also several large living caterpillars, but some of them
have died. I forgot to tell mamma to put the grass with
the glow-worms’ eggs upon it into the park, that the
young ones might thrive better when they were hatched.
I was much obliged to you for your little letter. If I am
away next year, you will be able to write to me a long,
long letter yourself, and tell me all that is going on. You
are now growing an old bit creature, and will soon be
very useful to papa and mamma ; and when J ohnny goes
to school, you will rise early in the morning, and see that
his little breakfast is laid out neat and comfortably; and
you will be very land to one another, for God loves chil-

HOMEWARDS.

155

dren who dwell together in unity. I have often prayed
for you all when I was far away; and when I saw the
beautiful moon shining upon the still waters — when I was
all alone among the green hills — I used to think that per-
haps, at that very moment, you were praying to God to
keep your papa in safety; and I blessed God for giving
me good children, and for giving them a mamma who
taught them to love their God and their Saviour. I am
very thankful to hear that your dear mamma has now
been so well for a pretty long time ; and I hope we will
soon be all working in the garden merrily together. Have
you any gooseberries left ? I have scarcely eaten one this
year, for they do not grow upon the hills, where I have
mostly been. Give my love to mamma ; and tell her that,
although I intend to be home on Wednesday, she must not
be at all uneasy if I don’t come ; because I am not quite
sure if there will be a boat from Alloa on that day. Now,
my sweet pet, I will not write any more. God bless you.
Remember me to everybody at Woodville; and believe
me, now and ever, your affectionate papa,

“ James Wilson.”

Of an expedition to Sutherland, in 1833, we shall con-
tent ourselves with two brief memorials : —

“ Inchnadamff, Assynt, 6 th August 1833.

“ I think I told you in my last, that we crossed the

156

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

country from the Bay of Cromarty to the Dornoch Firth
the day after the Duke [of Sutherland] was buried at
Dornoch. An old lady told us, £ He was just deein’ when
they tuik him awa’ frae England ; but it was nat’rel : it
wad gie him pleeshur to be puried in the Hielands/ We
found the sky as bright and the waters of the frith as
sparkling as if no duke had died. When we were entering
a narrow defile, with gray crags on one side, a brawling
brook below, and on the opposite side a fine old fir wood,
we saw, moving over the tops of the rocks, some black
creatures or substances, which we took at first to be crows.
A few moments dispelled the illusion, and, with its cross-
bones and skulls, its sand-glasses and waving plumes,
came rattling down the road the c narrow house J which
had recently conveyed the mortal remains of him to whom
the entire county had belonged. It seemed full of pack-
ing boxes, &c., and the coachman appeared to be a little
whiskified.

“ As the whole population, to the amount of nine or
ten thousand, had been out to see the sight, we found that
the eatables in some places had suffered severely from the
inroads of these barbarian clans. When we arrived at
Bonar Bridge, we found Greville and Barry awaiting us.
They had arrived at Tain the day before; and, expecting
us to join them there, they ordered dinner for twenty
people, which dinner was to take place in the ball-room.

DETAINING THE DOCTOR.

157

However, as our steam-boat was far too late to admit of
working our way on Wednesday night to Tain, the pair
were disappointed of our company; and, after waiting till
nine o'clock, they — the doctor and the Quaker — sat down
I dinner by themselves. How they would pick and
choose out of such an enormous supply ! I Relieve they
had to compound next day for the landlord's extensive
preparations."

“Lairg, on Loch Shin, 18th August 1833.

• • • • After passing Loch Eribol (why don’t you look
at the map ?), we came upon the lower end of Loch Hope,
where there is a river of the same name, which you cross
by a chain boat. The fare is a half-penny. There were
at this time three of us, Dr Greville, Captain Graham, and
myself— the rest having gone up towards their night's
quarters by another route to the head of the loch. I gave
the woman who ferried us sixpence, which made her press
us to enter the ferry-house and take a drink of milk.
This we did, paying for the same. Half an hour before,
we met a doctor, galloping to see a dead man. We
stopped him, partly that the man might have some chance
of recovering, and partly to inquire about the fishing. He
declared it was excellent in the river Hope, of which the
course is extremely short, being only about a mile before
it joins the saline water of Loch Eribol. This being con-

158

THE MOORS AND THE MOUNTAINS.

firmed by tlie ferry-woman, we remained for some hours,
and had excellent sport. We then proceeded about nine
miles into the interior, by the side of the lake as long as
it lasted, and up a lonely valley for two miles more, when
it was done.

“ A small hut, called Cashel Dhu, was to be our place of
rendezvous, and there we joined the rest of the party to a
candle-light dinner, consisting of excellent mutton from
Mrs Scobie’s, portable soup, trouts, and potatoes. In the
course of the evening, Mr John Scobie, who had been
from home during our visit, burst in upon us, like a kilted
Mercury in full Highland costume. He is a lively, kind-
hearted, strong-built Highlander, and expressed great re-
gret at what he called our speedy departure. He was for
returning home again that night, which was, in fact, equi-
valent to sleeping in the moor; but we insisted that he
should share our hay. We had here only one small room
for the whole party, and so, learning from Barry that in
the earlier part of the day had botanised up the valley,
and passed a shepherd’s hut, where he was told he might
stay all night, we thought it advisable to divide a little, as
there was literally not room for us all upon the floor.
Therefore Barry and myself, with Captain Graham and the
kilted Scobie, though we had all had a hard day’s work,
set off in the dark towards twelve o’clock, in search of a
roosting place. After a few miles we came to the shep-

HIGHLAND HOSPITALITY.

159

herd’s hut, at which we knocked, and knocked, and knocked
again ; but the only answer we met for long was the vio-
lent barking of a band of collies in the interior. At last
a feeble and querulous grumbling was heard, as if from
under a heap of clothes. We could make nothing of it
for a considerable time, and so continued our knocking at
door and windows. We finally made out that the muffled
murmurings were intended to warn us off — that everybody
should be in bed by that time of night — and that we must
make the best of our way back to Cashel Dhu. In vain
we entreated, and expostulated, and explained ; in vain did
Mr John Scobie menace them with ducal wrath, alternately
in Gaelic and ‘the English tongue still more in vain did
the gentler Barry ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ through the key-hole
01 the bioken loz&n. Thou didst willingly promise me a
night’s lodging when I passed thy dwelling in the day-
time. Surely thou wouldst not refuse us the cover of thy
roof, and the use of thy hay. Thou oughtest not to have
promised, if thou intendedst not to fulfil Thou hast de-
ceived us, and now we know not what to do.’ I was cer-
tain from the first, from the tone of her voice, that she
would not yield, and advised the party to be off, though I
could not exactly advise them in what direction to turn
their steps. We were about to go back to Cashel Dhu,
when Mi scobie proposed we should venture a few miles
more up the valley, as he was ‘pretty sure’ there was a hut

160

THE MOORS AND THE MOUNTAINS.

somewhere on the other side of the river. Though angry
at the caprice and selfishness of the woman who had turned
us away (the man never spoke, and was supposed not to
be at home, though I doubt not he was lying ensconced on
the other side of his cruel rib), we were in good humour
with ourselves, and there was at least the chance of novelty
in the adventure. It was now nearly one in the morning,
fair, but dark. We passed the ruins of an old Pictish
tower, seen dimly shadowed on the sky. The mountains
were closing darkly around us as we approached the head
of the vale, and the river, £ hurried precipitous from steep to
steep/ foamed along the side of our path, or gushed in long,
deep, gloomy pools, not easily distinguished from the sombre
bank on which we travelled. But the brave Highlander
led the way with a light elastic step, and led us as securely
as if our road had been the aisle of a church. At last he
said, cWe must cross here/ and immediately stepped into
the brawling stream. This would have been no joke nearer
home, and I once or twice thought I felt Isabella pulling
my coat-tails ; but as for Scobie, he had no tails to pull,
so in he plunged deeper and deeper still. Prom constant
fishing, Captain Graham and myself were very sure of foot
upon the slippery stones, and firm of limb to withstand
the downward sweeping of the torrent But, alas ! for
Barry and his breadth of brim. c Friend, art thou assured
of the way ? This now seemeth to me rather a perilous

NIGHT IN THE WILDEENESS.

161

passage. Thinkest thou we had not best return?’ But
Scobie’s bare knees were now beginning to emerge from
the flood, and in a few seconds more three of us stood upon
the further bank, while Barry, making a few desperate
plunges, also gained a firmer footing in more shallow
water, and was soon landed in safety. Well, it was now
two in the morning, and we were still doubtful where to
turn. But Scobie, after snuffing about for a few minutes
like a pointer, seemed to ascertain some landmarks, and
starting across the heath, he led us in another quarter of
an hour to a hut about the size of a pea-stack. All was
solemn and silent for a time, till we groped out the door.
He gave a tap, and was answered in Gaelic. He appeared
to give a short statement of our case and condition,
and, from a few interjectional ‘Oich, oich’s !’ from within, I
judged that the heart of woman was at last subdued.
Suffice to say that we were admitted. We found a lone
woman, a girly of about ten, and a litter of younger children.
We had no candle, but the woman soon blew up the embers
of a peat fire, which occupied the centre of the room, and
then ever and anon lighting small lath-like pieces of some
resinous wood, she threw a bright glare over the strange,
incongruous group by which she was surrounded. There
was the martial Highlander, with his rosy limbs fresh from
the crystal stream, standing erect with his plumed bonnet
on his head, and one of the lighted sticks between his

1G2

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

fingers. There was also the Quaker, with his translucent
eye, his figure leaning forward on his staff, with an ap-
pearance of fatigue combined with a deep interest in the
scene, his moist garments clinging closely to his weary
and well-watered limbs. Captain Graham had in the
meantime sat down on the floor, on the lid of an old her-
ring-barrel, his face beaming with smiles, and reflecting
every ray of light from its broad and happy surface. I
was standing myself in the background, scratching the
nose of a collie, and watching the wreaths of smoke as they
made their way through two large holes in the roof, amid
rafters black as ebony, and shining as if varnished. We
got in hay from the barn, and stretched ourselves around
the fire, till daylight dawned down the chimney. I must
stop, for my candle is going out/’

The short excursions of those three summers were fol-
lowed, in 1 834, by an elaborate exploration of the county
of Sutherland. In this expedition the botanist and
draughtsman was Dr Greville ; and the different branches
of zoology were looked after by Sir William Jardine, Mr
Selby, Mr John Jardine, and Mr Wilson. A conveyance
was provided suitable to such a “ land of mountain and
flood/' — a boat upon wheels, which could be used as a
carriage on terra firma, and which, when occasion re-
quired, could take to the water. When the time for

EXPLORATION OF SUTHERLAND.

1G3

setting out drew near, Mr Wilson's spirits sank at the
prospect of so long an absence; hut, rather than disorganise
the party, he placed his own feelings in abeyance; and
not only did he contrive to enjoy the tour himself, but he
contributed greatly to the enjoyment of his brother savans.
t The survey of the county was rich in scientific results,
and threw much light on the birds, fishes, insects, and
plants of a region till then very imperfectly explored.^

“ Inverness, Wednesday 'morning,
28<A May 1834.

“I know that you will rejoice to hear that, after a
delightful drive by Dunkeld and Killiecrankie, we arrived
here safe and sound last night at half-past ten. We were
by that time somewhat tired, and not a little dirty; for
the day being bright and dry, was likewise dusty; and as
we had left Perth at five in the morning (when and where
I met your nephew, Colonel Murray) we were well worn
out by the afternoon. I found the party waiting my
arrival at Perth, and all in great glee and good humour
except myself, and I was not rale bad, though there was
still a bit of lead about my heart, part of which (I think

* ItS entomol°gical results were published by Mr Wilson in two
papers, one in the Entomological Magazine, vol. iv., the other in the
Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal, vol. xix. In the twentieth vol of
the L^t named periodical, there are papers on the Quadrupeds and Birds
ot Sutherlandshire, by Mr Selby, and in the eighteenth vol. a disserta-
tion on its Salmonidce, by Sir W. Jardine.

164

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

I was wounded in the Peninsula) will probably remain till
the end of my pilgrimage. After some supper, we went
to bed, I hope thankful for our mercies, which are great,
and, though not unacknowledged, yet seldom felt as they
ever ought to be.

“ Our yesterday's ride passes description ; so I will let
it pass, merely remarking what you may have elsewhere
noticed, but which I never saw more magnificently exem-
plified than amid the wooded theatre of Killiecrankie, that
the fresh and verdurous foliage of the bursting spring is
preferable in such a scene to the matured and almost
arid leafery of summer. Here and there a group of shy
and reluctant-looking ash-trees shewed us that something
was yet to come; but the oaks, birches, and sycamores
were all beautiful exceedingly. We supped on our arrival
at Inverness, after ploutering up stairs, and sweeping the
dust out of our eyes, and blowing it out of our noses with
a pair of bellows. We find they do for that purpose far
better than pocket-handkerchiefs, and one pair is enough
for the whole party.

“We have been very busy all morning getting our
horses and tackle fitted to each other. We have got a
stout pair of beasts for about thirty pounds; and as we
shall only lose a few pounds in selling them afterwards,
we expect this plan will be cheaper than hiring — espe-
cially as we shall feed them in Sutherland chiefly at

EOAT-CAEKIAGE.

165

the Duchess-Countess’s expense. We are just about to
start for Invergordon, with our own horses and a stage-
coach attached to them. At Invergordon we shall sub-
stitute our boat-carriage for the said stage, and proceed
to-morrow to Bonar Bridge. I do not expect to get there
till after the post has passed ; and as he does not pass
every day, don’t be alarmed. Bemember, my comfort de-
pends a great deal upon your not being nervous on my
account. You may rely upon my wilting often, and send-
ing my letters by every opportunity. The weather is de-
lightful”

"Lairg, by Golspie,
31si May 1834.

“ Here we are, arrived at the scene of action, and just
about to commence business. I wrote from Inverness on
Wednesday, on the afternoon of which day we set out for
Invergordon, in a stage-coach lent us for the jiurjiose by
the innkeeper, and drawn by the nags which we had pur-
chased in the morning. They seem to be turning out
remarkably well, being sure, sound, and steady, though
not very swift. We had two ferries to cross before reach-
ing Invergordon, and the beasts jumped into the boats
like sea-horses. Indeed, my own belief is that they have
web-feet. We arrived at the last-named place just before
daik, and found our boat and carriage waiting us, and all

166

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

in good order after its voyage from Newhaven. After a
good sleep and no snoring, we took breakfast and departed
for Tain. We found that the boat travelled upon its
wheels very smoothly. As the day was fine, we did not
mount, but followed it to Tain, collecting insects, &c., by
the road. In a small marsh we got a great many Ela-
ph/ri, Donative, &c., and particularly Blethisa multipunc-
tata, a fine insect resembling a very large Elaplirus. In
a wood we took, the small green under-wing butterfly
{Thecla rubi), which I had never before seen alive ; a very
fine bright long-shaped Coccinella, and a Galeruca not in
my collection. We dined at Tain, which is on the Dor-
noch Frith, and in the cool of the afternoon proceeded to
Bonar Bridge. The scenery along the shore upwards was
very beautiful, particularly just after sunset, for before
that time, as we were walking in a westerly direction, the
glare of light upon the water was rather bright and
dazzled our een as we tried to gaze upon the wooded pro-
montories in advance, or the snow-spotted peaks of the
far-mountains. But as soon as the sun was down we
enjoyed the fine amphitheatre of western hills, and the
beautiful glimpses, neither few nor far between, of the
Dornoch Frith, as we looked down upon it through the
old pine woods through which our path conducted us to
Bonar Bridge. We got on twenty-six miles that day,
which was a fair trial both for man and beast

CUCKOOS.

167

ft We made only thirteen miles yesterday, from Bonar
Bridge to Lairg. We fished up the river Shin on our way.
J. Jardine and I each killed a grilse in addition to our
trouts ; the rest of the party only caught the last named
fishes. Our grilse, however, were belts, that is, had not
run fresh from the sea, but had been kept in the river all
winter, owing to the closing of the cruives which had
pi evented their making their way to the ocean waters.

e spent some hours on our way at Inversion upon the
Oikel, conversing with Mr Young, who has the chief
charge of the fisheries. Soon after our arrival here last
night, we discovered a nest of the black-throated diver.

I believe it had not been previously seen by any one,
though the bird has been long known to breed in Britain.

II e took the eggs, for they sell in London for a guinea
a-piece. There are an immense number of cuckoos here-
abouts, so many that one sees them flying about from
tree to tree, and the people tell us that they often find their
eggs in the nests of small birds, particulary in that of the
tit-laik. To-day Sir William and Mr Selby are going to
try Loch Shin for the great loch trout ; Dr Greville and
myself try a smaller loch among the hills, and hope to
find a few insects : we got Carabus clathratus here last
year. Now, dearest wife, the party are all keen to be off,
as we have breakfasted, and they are scolding me for
writing. God bless you all !”

1G8

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

“ Lairg, by Golspie
3 d June 1834.

“ Although I have been disappointed in receiving my
Saturday’s letter, which I fear has not been sent to the
post-office in time for the north mail of that day, yet I
shall not retaliate by allowing an opportunity likely to
occur to-morrow to escape. I wrote to you on Saturday
morning somewhat hurriedly, for we are generally all pent
up in one little room about the size of my thumb, and our
occupations are so various and so numerous, that I have
scarcely time to collect my senses. The change of life is
indeed great, and to a monomaniac like myself who re-
quires some time to shift his ideas, the effect produced is
like that of a waking or rather walking dream. Our
chief object here was to fish Loch Shin for the great lake
trout, and Loch Craggie for another kind, remarkable for
beauty of shape and colour and excellence of condition
for the purposes of the table. In Loch Shin we have not
done much, but in the other loch we have been extremely
successful. Selby has made a drawing of one which I
killed, a very fine fellow, weighing two pounds and a-half.
While fishing Loch Craggie on Saturday, I found a nest
of the black-throated diver. The parents made off when
they saw me wading towards their little isle, but they left
behind them two little black powder-puffs, about the size
of your hand, which fuffed and bit at me when I came

BLACK-THROATED DIVERS.

169

near them. One of them got among the rushes and tried
to dive, but it would not do. I took them in my hand,
and immediately heard the parents uttering wild cries of
anger and anxiety ; so I laid them down and went to the
other side of the loch, that their wild though sweet home
might not be disturbed. The loch is a little one among
the hills, with a good sprinkling of natural birch wood at
one end. We fished it last year, though unsuccessfully,
owing to the violence of the wind. On Monday, we
started again for Loch Craggie, Sir William and Selby
each armed with their fowling pieces, and much excited
by my account of the divers and their woolly young ones.
Alas, for sentiment in the hands or hearts of those ruth-
less destroyers! When I thought of the happy moon-
light nights, the bright mornings, the gorgeous sunsets,
the balmy twilights which these magnificent birds had
enjoyed together, and how little they had dreamed that
their wild solitudes, environed by crags and almost covered
with water, should be invaded by the authors of ‘ Ornith-
ology Made Easy/ I almost regretted for the time that I
had betrayed their secret. But knowing that Sir William
and Mr Selby had spent the greater part of Saturday in a
vain attempt to obtain a pair which they had discovered
on Loch Shin, I thought it wrong to conceal an ornitho-
logical fact of such importance. So I directed them to
the island where I knew the birds would be, and the con-

170

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

sequences may be supposed. They crept towards the
spot, and the divers, less wary than usual, or at least less
careful of themselves, from the strength of their parental
affection, after swimming up the loch followed by one of
the young ones, returned again in search of the other, and
coming within range of the marksmen, were both shot
dead, along with their little helpless child. I was at this
time fishing at some distance, but when I came towards
the island I found the gorgeous creatures which I had so
lately seen so full of life and vigour, extended cold and
stiff upon the shore. They are as large as geese, and are
scarcely ever found in this country, except during severe
winters. Their breeding places were previously unknown.
That same day we discovered also two pair of widgeons, a
bird, the summer haunts of which had not been ascer-
tained. I killed fifteen very fine trouts, many of them
two pounds weight, and several above it. As eating fish,
they surpass any fresh-water fish, except salmon, with
which I am acquainted, and they enable us to fare
sumptuously every day. We have lamb, good soup or
broth, and roasted fowls, — the latter, however, evidently
made of Indian rubber. We find our boat answer ex-
cellently ; we took it up to Loch Craggie in a cart, and
brought it down again in the evening without any
trouble."

LOCH TEOUT.

171

“ Tongue, 8th June, 1834.

. . . . “ First, let me say that I had great delight in re-
ceiving yonr Saturday’s letter at Lairg on Thursday after-
noon. I found I could not enjoy myself till I heard from
home, and the rest of the party had no objection to wait
till the Thursday’s post from Golspie came in Ex-

cept the slaughter of the black-throated divers, and the dis-
covery of the widgeons’ nests, nothing particular occurred
at Lairg. We dissected the trouts of Loch Craggie, and
took notes of their structure, &c. In Loch Shin we
caught some of the young of the great loch trout, or
Salrnio ferox, and popped them into a barrel of whisky,
which we carry with us for that purpose. If you were a
sportswoman, I could fill a hundred letters with details
touching our capture of the finny race ; but I fear such
matters would be tedious.

We have already taken several specimens of Cardbus
clathratus and glabratus, and other good insects. I have
occasionally found the fatigue of the business considerable,
the more especially as I had been somewhat sedentary for
several months at home ; but I think I am improving in
strength every day, and I have already got a new skin to
one of my hands, and to half of my nose. By the time I
get as far as Mrs Scobie’s I expect to be as brown as
Bacchus and as strong as Hercules. Sir William is most
assiduous, and, indeed, the whole party are very active,

172

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

and in constant occupation, sketching, collecting, angling,
dissecting, eating, and sometimes — sleeping. I fear I am
the only dreamer among them ; and there are here but too
many gray stones to sit upon : —

But then comes the thought — the happy thought, that I
am not now as I once was, or, at least, deemed myself to
be, when wandering of old among bleak moors and deso-
late mountains, a thing forgotten, or, if remembered, but
to be despised. I now feel assured, and grateful in the
assurance, that there are some to whom my happiness is
dear, who rejoice in my joys and sympathise in my sor-
rows, and who would not yet that I should cease to be.
Wife and children ! What strange words these seem to
be when I think of my former self, when too often my
only thought was but to creep into a hole and die. But
what would I not now undertake to promote their comfort
and prosperity. Alas ! how little can I do. I may, how-
ever, assuredly, more earnestly and continually, thank
God for surrounding me with so many blessings ; and I
hope even yet in some measure to redeem what has so
often been but a feeble and erring life. The All-seeing
Eye alone can perceive the causes of excuse ; but then,

‘ I look round on my mother earth,

As if she for no purpose bore me ;

As if I were her first-born birth,
And none had lived before me.’

life’s fever and the great FOUNTAIN. 173

that same Eye, how many million faults does it not mark,
for ever unperceived by mortal vision ! Perhaps it would
be well to think, not that our fellow-mortals are often
incapable of appreciating our meritorious struggles and
resistances to sin, but that they still oftener are unable to
detect our rebellious and unchristian thoughts. Yet we
often think ourselves martyrs when God is not in all our
thoughts ; and, execrating the consuming fever of our
thirst, we pass unheeded the Fountain of living waters. I
find I must close for the present. I shall add a few lines
before sealing up.

“ Monday, 9 th June.

“ I was interrupted yesterday by the party insisting that
I should turn out and join them in a walk. We ascended
the hill above Tongue, and enjoyed a magnificent and far-
extended view of sea and land. To the west, Ben Hope,
and the other great mountains of Sutherland, their summits
partly enveloped in clouds ; to the east, a great part of
Caithness lay in barren blackness ; and to the north, a vast
expanse of calm but heaving waters of the ocean lay
between us and the distant Orkney Islands, which were
distinctly visible in the distance, with spots of snow upon
their solemn but serene summits. Immediately beneath our
feet was the Kyle of Tongue, a salt-water loch of great
beauty when the tide is in, and the swelling waters come
close upon the green pastures and straggling birch woods

174* THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

of the indented shore. The coast in general was bold and
rocky, with fine headlands running into the sea, and be-
tween them little quiet bays of golden sand, with here and
there a cottage on a cliff, or a few fishing-boats floating
in their then peaceful havens, or drawn ashore upon the
safer beach. But it was easy to see how, on the approach
of the ambiguous autumn, or when the raging tempests of
winter were let fairly loose, what a dread turmoil would
take place in all those narrow channels, and how the
tyrannous ocean would war and chafe against that iron-
bound shore.

“ On leaving Lairg, on Thursday, we travelled in our boat
as far as Altnaharrow, a poor, smoky, forlorn place, which
pretends to be an inn. We stayed there two nights and
one day, all sleeping on the same floor. We then fished
Loch Naver (in which I killed a good salmon) and some
other lochs. Sir William got a black water-rat, the same
as that variety found near Aberdeen, and which some
think a new species. Leaving Altnaharrow on Saturday
morning, we travelled partly in our boat and partly on
foot, fishing such lochs as lay in our way, and reached
Tongue about seven to dinner. It is a most comfortable
place. I have a little spare room to myself ; and the feed-
ing is excellent. The scenery is so fine that we shall stay a
day or two, particularly to ascend Ben Loyal, a fine moun-
tain, close at hand. We have also to fish Loch Loyal, &c.

LOCH LAYGHAL.

175

" Monday Evening.

“We have just returned from the top of Loch Loyal,
after nine hours pretty hard walking. The toil, as Selby’s
butler remarked, was ‘amply repaid’ by the view. The
said butler is a fine, fat, good-humoured Englishman,
with a great turn for geography and natural history. He
and T are great friends. The post has come in since
we returned from our walk ; and I am very thankful for
dear IT s letter, though it is but of. a mingled yarn.
I fear you have been far from well ; but I hope and pray
that ere now the enemy is gone, and that this letter will
at last find you at the Hill. Give my most affectionate
regards to all.”

“ Tongue, Uth June 1834.

“We have been very comfortably quartered here since
Saturday afternoon, and have done a good deal of busi-
ness. Yesterday, besides killing ten or twelve dozen of
fine lake trout, we captured two specimens of Salmo ferox,
or great loch trout of the Highlands. They were young
ones , but each weighed between five and six pounds.
They had never been killed with the rod in this part of
the country before, although their existence was well
known, as they are seen at the mouths of the burns about
spawning time, and are said to attain to the weight of
eighteen or twenty pounds.

176

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

“ I mentioned in my last letter that we had ascended Ben
Loyal, as it is called (it is spelt Layghal). It was a heavy
pull, being very steep and about three thousand feet high —
a respectable mountain when you consider that the ocean
waters lave its base, and that consequently it does not
rise, as many others do, from an elevated plain. There
are some tremendous precipices on its sides, where eagles
build, ‘ and ravens spread their plumy vans at ease/ and on
the summit are several large lumps of rock, each about
as large as St George's Church. I took five specimens of
Carabus glabratus, during the ascent, and found several
specimens of a small Colymbetes in pools of rain water
on the very summit. I also caught a large and beautiful
barred M usca, but he escaped through the flappers.

“ The chief ornithological feature of this neighbourhood,
is the immense number of thrushes which inhabit the
little birch woods, and render musical the else silent and
solitary valleys. To-day when I was catching insects, a
beautiful robin came and watched me with curious eye,
and seemed to take me for some large mysterious bird.
I also saw a sweet little gold-finch preening himself upon
a birken spray, and in the uplands you cannot walk a
hundred yards without a pair of golden plovers flying
around you, and uttering their wild and wayward cries.
Waders and water-fowl are numerous, and we yesterday
found a widgeon's nest with six eggs, which we harried,

JACK-SNIPE.

177

seeing that the breeding of that species in Britain was un-
known. This quarter of the island seems, in fact, to be
the great breeding quarters of many of those birds which
visit the southern districts only during winter. We this
morning dissected one of the large trouts, measured his
guts, counted his teeth, and compared his internals with
those of the common species. Selby made a portrait in
oils of the other. Bor a day or two among the birch
woods, we have been catching specimens of a very
large hymenopterous insect, allied to Tenthredo, but with
knobbed antennae. He is as big as Sirex gigas, thicker
but not quite so long. I know the genus, though, as usual,
I forget his name. Sir William is off this morning to a
marsh among the mountains, where it is reported by one
of the Duke's gamekeepers who has been deputed to at-
tend us, that a small species of snipe, called the Jack-snipe,
builds its nest. It is not yet known as a British builder.
We have had a couple of eagles eggs’ brought to us just
now. But I must stop for the present ; we leave Tongue
to-morrow. Good bye.”

“Eribol, 12 th June.

“ W 6 left TonSlie this morning in our carriage, but were
long impeded in our progress by a short frith or ferry,
called the Kyle of Tongue, which, under ordinary circum-
stances, we might almost have swam across, but the ferry-

178

THE MOORS AND THE MOUNTAINS.

boats were small, and our carriage rather lengthy, and we
had a kittle job in getting it shipped. We had to unpack
all the things from the boat, to lift the boat from its wheels,
and after launching it on the salt water, to tie it to the
hinder end or stern of the ferry-boat. We then contrived,
by means of large planks, to run the wheels into the said
ferry-boat. There had not been so much to do at Tongue
for many a-day. These matters kept us till the day was
far advanced, although, as usual, we had breakfasted early.
After passing the ferry, our route lay along the desolate
moor of Moin, a tract almost impassable before the mak-
ing of the present road. However, it does not extend far,
and about half-way there is a hut or house of refuge for
the destitute. I met a messenger who inquired for ‘ yin Mr
Wilson.’ I pled guilty to being that obnoxious individual,
and was immediately presented with a letter, which I found
to be from Mrs Scobie, who had just heard of our having
entered Lord Eeay’s country, and hastened to request that
whenever it was convenient, all of us would make her
house our home. In fact, we could hardly have managed
to see that part of the country again without doing so, but
it was particularly pleasant to be met with such frank and
open hospitality. On crossing the moor of Moin we came
to Hope Ferry, at the foot of Loch Hope. By this time,
however, the ‘ sky lowered and muttered thunder,’ and the
rain was falling in torrents. We were not sure how the

KEOLDALE.

179

fishing in the Hope would do, and there were rather too
many of us to remain at the Terry, so we drove on a few
miles further to the house where we now are, on the shores
of Loch Eribol. We were very wet when we arrived, but
peat fires were soon blazing in all quarters, and articles

which Mrs would have died sooner than have

named, were speedily produced and jumped into. Oh,
what a scene is a regular shifting in a Highland inn after
a soaking day! We had a good dinner of its kind, and

soon after a few cups of tea, and we are now all occupied
in our various pursuits.

M e retrace our steps a mile or two to-morrow, to try
the fishing in the river Hope.”

“ Keoldale, 1 8th June 1834.

“I have Just ]ieard of opportunity of sending off a
few lines this evening, so I embraced it to tell you how
comfortable we have been here for some days. We ar-
rived on Saturday night and this is Wednesday afternoon.
The party have been pretty active on the whole, although
the substantial cheer and cheerful converse of the evening
somewhat interfere with the sticking of our beetles and
other important operations. The morning dram is a source
of great merriment among the majority, although the

Doctor, as in duty bound, does not faff to protest against
such an abuse.

180

THE MOORS AND THE MOUNTAINS.

“ On Monday we drove to a celebrated natural excava-
tion in the limestone rock along the shore, called the Smoo
cavern. There is a river, a short way up the country,
which jumps down a big hole in the earth with a horrible
roar, and after rumbling and tumbling about in darkness
for some time, nobody knows where, it comes rolling out
of a recess in the inside of the Smoo cave, through which
it meanders, and flowing gently along, it seeks the day-
light, and then rolls into the sea. Now the cave itself is
like a great cathedral supported by natural pillars. Its
vast recesses are at first dim and mystical, but as the eye
begins to discern the great projections of the fretted roof,
it also perceives that that roof is gorgeously adorned with
many and various hues of green and orange, and brown and
blue, arising from the quantity of moss and lichens with
which the rocks, themselves of richest colours, are adorned.
From the interior, looking eastward, there is a fine ocean
view, the sparkling waves contrasting finely with the black-
ness of the cavern roof, which seems to span the heavens as
with an arch. Several sketches were taken of this truly
singular scene, which, however rude and imperfect, when
compared with the c dread magnificence' of nature, may yet
serve to convey to you some feeble notion of its character.

“ On Tuesday morning we paid our respects at the
manse, where we saw the marks left by the lightning that
entered the room and broke all the windows last winter.

FAK-OUT HEAD.

181

“By the by, on the preceding evening, we set a net on
one of the lakes, to ascertain the truth of the reported
existence of Char, and next morning we found half-a-dozen
entangled in the meshes. We drew and dissected one, and
put the remainder into spirits. After calling at the manse
yesterday, we joroceeded to Bar-out Head, a high and rocky
promontory. The coast view was very fine, and we caught
some good insects ; but as the minister was to dine with
us, we returned without finishing our exploration. We
renewed our visit to-day, and found two fine eagles resting
on the promontory. I am sorry to add that during these
last two days I have been so annoyed by rheumatism in
my left shoulder, and up the same side of my neck, as to
be unable to handle my rod. We leave this for Scourie
to-morrow at five in the morning ; at present it is almost
light here all night. Excuse haste, for Mrs Scobie’s mes-
senger waits. Oh for my letters at Inchnadamff, where I
hope we shall be by Saturday night.”

“Inchnadamff, 2 ith June 1834.

We reached this much-wished-for haven only last
night (Monday), and I was at first sorely disappointed by
finding nothing but an old newspaper and a letter from
worthy Captain Graham. I was soon after so far relieved
by Sir W. Jardine opening a parcel and handing out a
.letter for me in your hand, which you may sujrpose I was

182

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

not long in devouring. Its date, however, was not very
recent (the 14th), and being written in bed, gave no
very strong assurance of your being as I have so often
prayed you might be. But a few minutes after our
arrival, the post came in and brought me a delightful

bundle, among which yours of the 20th, 21st, and H ’s

of the 19 th, were singled out and eaten. Of all things
be sure to be as much in the open air as possible, that
you may have a proper pennyworth of your native air,
and that I may have the happiness of finding you on my
return as strong as an American turkey

“We begin work generally about half-past five in the
morning, and seldom finish till the commencement of the
ensuing day, so that we have seldom less than sixteen
hours’ labour of one kind or another, although it is varied
in such a way as greatly to lessen the fatigue.

“We left good Mrs Scobie’s on Thursday last, at an
early hour. We had a long day’s journey to Scourie,
nearly thirty miles. We sat, however, very comfortably
in our boat, taking a walk of a mile or two now and then
when the ground was hilly, which was a relief both to
ourselves and horses, particularly the latter. The road
was excellent — thanks to that great highwayman, the late
Duke of Sutherland — although the country through which
it lay was for the most part very bare and desolate, the
hills low and craggy, with their intermediate valleys filled

THE STACK.

183

up with innumerable small lochs (liker ponds than lakes),
commonly so called. There were, however, some fine
mountain ranges within view. It was latisli in the even-
ing before we reached Seourie, where, as the landlady was
aware of our intended arrival, we found everything in
vmy good order, with each a separate bed. On Triday
and Saturday we drove back each day about six or seven
miles of the road by which we had arrived, as far as Lax-
ford Bridge, where there is excellent fishing. Our car-
riage and horses waited for us at a shepherd’s hut, and
then we drove back to Seourie to a late evening dinner,
cakes and milk being attainable in the meantime by
such as wished them. Tor myself, I was not in fishing
Older, on account of the rheumatism in my arm and
shoulder, but I tried to be useful to the others, and con-
trived to pick up a few insects. I am now almost entirely
free from pain. We enjoyed some very striking views by
ascending a mountain, or at least a part of it, called
Stack, not far from Laxford. We were at one time
entirely enveloped in clouds, but still kept creeping along
the mountain side, when suddenly the clouds dispersed,
or at least opened wide their aerial windows, and shewed
us a beautiful valley well clothed with birch woods, with
a far-spreading lake in the distance. At the same
moment a magnificent rainbow spanned the valley from
side to side, and as the clouds rolled along we saw from

18-4 THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

time to time gigantic crags above our beads, or in the
opposite distance the gray and sterile summits of lofty
mountains. No vestige, however, of human dwelling was
within our view, nor anything to remind us that this
earth was the abode of other beings than ourselves.”

“ Inchnadamff, 27 th Jrnie 1834.

“ I again indulge myself by writing a few lines, as there
is a post to-morrow morning from this to Golspie. As
there is also an end to all human undertakings, our various
exertions in this quarter are now drawing to a close. We
propose proceeding southwards on Monday morning, but
I fear we must for some time travel slowly, as our cattle
have a considerable weight to draw.

“ It does not appear that we can proceed from Dingwall
through Ross-shire without taking longer time than we
can afford, and it is therefore probable that we shall go
from Dingwall to Inverness. From the latter place, how-
ever, we feel averse to return, per coach, by the Highland
road, exactly as we came, and we therefore hope to dis-
pose of our cattle, and then proceed by the Caledonian
Canal, Loch Ness, &c., to Fort-William, and from thence
by Ballahulish, Dalmally, Killin, &c., down to Perth or
Stirling, and then home. Oh, how my heart beats at the
thought of my return ! I have had a considerable degree of
enjoyment, and any want of it has been entirely my own

HOME-SICKNESS.

185

fault, for everything has been pleasant in itself and pro-
sperous. But you know I left home without exactly feeling
satisfied that I ought to have done so. I had no desire
to go, and none of that buoyant anticipation of enjoyment
which, in glorious youth, is wont to attend as the fore-
runner of such excursions. Some sensations of mental dis-
comfort have accompanied me all along, with a conscious-
ness, as it were, that I am acting selfishly in making the
journey, when the money might have been better spent
in ministering to your enjoyments at home. But I hope,
by some degree of diligence and activity, to make amends
on my return. Alas ! what a sad reckoning is now against
me for indolence, idleness, and mis-spent time. I know,
however, that if I had given up this expedition, it would
have vexed you, and although my doing so would have
been no disappointment to myself, it might yet have
affected or interfered with the arrangements of others.
But I hope not to be so long from home again for many

a day I fear, however, that I am not telling you

much of what we have been doing here. In fact, owing
to the broken weather, we have not been doing very much
for some days. Yesterday morning, Colonel Oswald, who
has the salmon fishing on the Inver this year, breakfasted
with us, on his way to Laxford. We afterwards fished a
mountain loch, where we found the fish very fat, and of
delicious flavour. We found their interior crammed full

186

THE MOORS AND THE MOUNTAINS.

of screws, or fresh-water shrimps, the beasts you may
sometimes see in your ewer of a morning. The day,
however, soon grew wet and windy, and I could not see
without my spectacles, and still less with them. Yet I
contrived to capture nine specimens of Carabus glahratus.
To-day we fished some other lochs, but not very success-
fully, except as to smallish trouts, which we now despise.
The ministers are beginning to be poured into the country
along with the rains ; to-day I found no less than three on
the moors, so we shall no doubt have sennon on Sabbath.
Now good-bye, for, as usual, I find that it is to-morrow
morning. I think you had better tell the gardener to tiy
a small sowing in patches of mignonette and sweet peas,
that we may have an autumnal crop. You know how I
love the autumn.”

“ Inchnadamff, 29 th June 1834.

“My dear Daughter, — This is a beautiful Sunday
evening. All my friends have gone out to take a walk;
so I think I shall write you a letter. I am sitting up-
stairs at a little window, so small that I can scarcely get
my head and shoulders out of it ; but when I do take a
peep, there is a long bright lake stretching away to the
west for many miles, with high bare mountains on every
side. Ben More, the highest hill in Sutherland, is just
behind the house. It is composed of what is called moun-

THE PEOPLE OF SUTHERLAND.

187

tain limestone, and is so bare and craggy on its sides and
summit for many thousand acres, that there is scarcely
even a blade of grass or a bimch of heather to be seen,
let there are sweet little birds chirping and singing
among the rocks, and just as merry as if they were hopping
among the beautiful bushes at Corstorphine Hill. God,
who takes care of all His creatures, has given them happy
hearts ; and I suppose there is little sorrow where there is
no sin.

“ This is a very wild country. I have sometimes tra-
velled through it for a whole day without seeing a single
house, or meeting with a single human being. * There
were many more people in it formerly ; but, a good many
years ago, the Countess of Sutherland, to whom it all
belongs, was advised to tell all the cottagers and other
poor people who lived in the valleys and on the sides of
the hills, to go away down to the sea-shore, and become
fishermen, that she might let all the land to rich Euo-lish
farmers, who, she was told, would give her far more money.
But the people, some of whom were very old, and all of
whom loved the little sheltered spots where their fathers
and grandfathers had lived for hundreds of years before
them, did not wish to live by the sea-shore all together
in little dirty streets, and to learn to fish. They were not
afraid of the sea; because the mountain shepherds are
just as biave as sailors; and often in the stormy nights of

188

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

winter, when the wind is howling among the wild rocks,
and the snow is drifting about and covering over every-
thing with which they are acquainted, or might be able to
mark their way home, they are obliged to go out and look
after their flocks, and see that they have not tumbled into
the deep holes which are so common among limestone
rocks. But they thought it unkind to be asked to leave
their ancient homes by those they had often served and
defended ; for during the war with the French, hundreds
of all the strongest men sometimes joined together under
the command of some chieftain whom they loved, and
went abroad and fought, £ and spilt their blood like
water;’ but never thought that, after being worn out
with their wounds, and coming home to end their days
in peace, they would all be sent away to catch cod and
haddocks. So, you see, instead of fishing by the sea- shore,
almost the whole of them went away to America, where
many of them, with their sons and daughters, are living
to this day. It is very true that those to whom the land
belongs now get more money from the new comers ; but if
God saw fit to allow another Bonaparte to rise up among
the French, who was determined to conquer all other coun-
tries, then it would be very difficult to get such brave men
as once dwelt in Sutherland, but are now dwelling by the
banks of the great rivers of America. I think, if I had
thousands of people under me, I would rather try to make

SLEEPING IN CHUKCH.

189

them good and happy, than drive them away to foreign
lands. I think the people here are mostly good. I had
not seen many of them till to-day ; but the few that re-
main came over the hills from all quarters to church, and
seemed very serious and devout. I sat in the minister’s
seat, with his wife and two children, and another lady.
It was a warm day, and the children began to be very
sleepy, poor things. So the lady, who, I suppose, was
ashamed of them before strangers, every now and then
gave them a little shake. One of them had golden curly
hair, and its head shone and glittered in the sunbeams
every time that it was shooken. The mother tried another
plan, and gave them each a bit of sea-biscuit. This did
very well for a little ; but as soon as the biscuit was done,
they fell fast asleep, and nobody disturbed them any more.
I confess I was a little sleepy myself at one time ; but I
bit my tongue, and kept my eyes staring wide ; for I was
rather afraid that the minister’s wife’s sister would give
me a shake, just as she had the minister’s wife’s sons.
The church is the smallest church you ever saw, not nearly
so high as the stable at Woodville, and very little longer;
but I doubt not that the prayers of pious Christians
ascend as directly to their heavenly Father from that
lowly dwelling as from the proudest cathedral. I will not
be very long away now. We leave this to-morrow; but
till we get to Inverness, we must travel slowly, for our

190

THE MOOES AND THE MOUNTAINS.

boat-carriage is very heavy when we are all in it. I expect
that everything at Wooclville and the Hill will be looking
beautiful when I come back. How thankful we ought to
be to God for our sweet, happy homes ! May God bless
my darling daughter, is ever the prayer of your affec-
tionate father.'”

CHAPTER VI.

anti Srojjittt

anil jijmkik

“ The sun upon the Wierdlaw-hill,

In Ettrick’s vale, is sinking sweet,

The westland wind is hush and still.

The lake lies sleeping at my feet.

Yet not the landscape to mine eye

Bears those bright hues that once it bore;
Though evening, with her richest dye,
Flames o’er the hills of Ettrick’s shore.

— The quiet lake, the balmy air.

The hill, the stream, the tower, the tree, —
Are they still such as once they were.

Or is the dreary change in me?” — Scott.

“ Who are the men of history to be admired most ? Those whom
most things became : . . . . who could be considerate in a sick-room,
genial at a feast, joyous at a festival, capable of discourse with many
minds, large-souled, not to be shrivelled up into any one form, fashion,
or temperament. Their contemporaries would have told us, that men
might have various accomplishments and hearty enjoyments, and not for
that be the less effective in business, or less active in benevolence.” —
Helps.

*

Having no professional engagements, it was assumed that
Mr Wilson abounded in leisure ; but to do all the work
which busier men are unable to overtake, is itself an
arduous calling. It was the advantage of his learned bre-
thren, that most of them had ostensible occupations, and
from any inconvenient intrusion the professor could take
refuge in “ the business of his class,” the doctor and the
lawyer in the demands of his "practice,” but our friend
had no such apology ; nor even if he had possessed it,
would it have availed a disposition so kind and courteous.
He had a deep and true desire to serve his generation:
there was no one from whom it was less formidable to ask
a favour; and when invited to bear another’s burden, no
one could lend the helping hand with more unfeigned
alacrity. Happy was the board or committee which could
enlist his name, for it was sure of a conscientious member ;
and no less happy was the scientific stranger who sought
out his abode, and who, certain of a cordial welcome not
unfrequently commenced an enduring and delightful inti-
macy. Happy was, the secretary who had such a colleague.

194 BUSINESS, RECREATION; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

and not less happy was the editor who had such a neigh-
bour. But happier still was the man himself, who, when
an emergency arose, could always meet it, and who, when
the forthcoming serial was arrested by a desertion or a
downbreak, possessed the ready pen and readier zeal
which supplied the gap and saved the capitol. If Sidney
Smith claimed it as his function, that he acted in society
as a general amalgam ; in the literary and scientific world
of Edinburgh — the lecturing world not included, and his
own chosen pursuits superadded — Mr Wilson might have
claimed it as his province to be the universal succedaneum.

His engagement with the Encylopcedia Britannica
amounted to a virtual editorship ; for it made him responsi-
ble for all the natural history, and, as happens to all editors,
his subordinates sometimes left him in the lurch. The
following letter was called forth by such a conjuncture : —

TO SIR WILLIAM JARDINE, BART.

“ Woodville, 11th May 1835.

“ I have not time to enter into particulars ; suffice it to
say that I have been grievously disappointed by what I
cannot call otherwise than the misconduct of an indi-
vidual, to whom years ago I had intrusted the article
Ichthyology for the Encyclopaedia Britannica. To that
individual I have written and spoken every two or three
months on the subject, have sent books and other necessary

HIGH PEESSUEE.

195

articles, and it never entered into my mind for a moment
to suppose that he was not advancing steadily in a matter
which was originally consigned to him much more on
his own account than on mine. Judge, then, of my sur-
prise and disappointment on being informed a day or two
ago, in answer to an intimation that the said article might
be required in a month or thereby, that other engagements
made it impossible for him to undertake it if it were re-
quired in anything like that time. I shall only add that
these other engagements, of a somewhat advantageous
nature, were bestowed on my own recommendation at a
period subsequent to his written pledge regarding the
said Ichthyology. All tills, of course, is no excuse as be-
tween myself and the principal editor, who takes no
concern in my engagements, and to whom I stand pledged
altogether independent of other individuals. I think it
likely that not less (though certainly not more) than seven
weeks will be allowed from about this time; but even
during that period it would be hard work for any one indi-
vidual, not prepared by any previous study in anticipation,
to get up a worthy article on so important a subject. I
shall, however, indeed I must, sacrifice all other eno-ao-e-
ments and work like a horse, and I have no hesitation in
applying to you for assistance, which I doubt not you will
grant if you can do so consistently with prior duties. All
that I wish from you is, that you would undertake an

196 BUSINESS, RECREATION; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

abstract of the fourth family of Cuvier’s Malacopterygian
fishes, viz., our friends the Salmonidos. I should like you
to adhere in a general way to Cuvier’s arrangement, as I
must do so myself in the other portions ; but, of course, the
opinions of species, &c., and other details, to be according
to your own views. You are so familiar with this depart-
ment, that I doubt not you will do it with ease — indeed
you probably have all the necessary materials already by
you. I assure you your doing it will be a great favour
to myself.”

His application had been made to one who, like himself,
knew what it is to be a friend in need, as the following

7 O

rescript shews : — •

“ Woodville, 28 th May 1835.

“My dear Sir William, — I had the pleasure to re-
ceive your response, which is quite satisfactory as far as
your will is concerned, although your prior engagements
seem to run it rather further back than I could w7ish.
Perhaps Selby’s being with you during that first week of
your return home, may not interfere with your doing
something. Of course, I don’t care when the thing is
begun, if it is only ended in time. I am sitting very close
myself, as in duty bound, and am already a long way from
the beginning, though I can’t say whether I am at all
getting towards the end.”

EOYAL SOCIETY.

197

In like manner, we find him a few months afterwards
come to the rescue of Messrs Oliver and Boyd, whose
three volumes on China, got up with great care, and at a
great expense, were delayed by the non-appearance of a
much desired sketch of Chinese zoology. In a few days
he supplied the lacking contribution, and the stranded
volumes floating off, enjoyed a prosperous voyage.

At one period, as already mentioned, he took much pains
arranging the admirable collections in the College Museum,
and besides being a zealous member of the Wernerian
Society to the last, he acted as its librarian. To the
Transactions of the Itoyal Society of Edinburgh” he never
contributed, but no one of its fellows could take a livelier
interest in its prosperity, or feel more proud of its fame ;
nor amongst all his offices of generous friendship, was
there ever one more cordially rendered, than his discharge
of the secretaryship during the temporary absence, through
illness, of Professor J. I). Eorbes. For those researches
amongst the Alpine and Norwegian glaciers, which had
procured for the ardent investigator a celebrity more than
European, Mr Wilson felt intense admiration ; and when,
as a consequence of such researches too eagerly pursued,
the health of the professor gave way, Mr Wilson supplied
his place with affectionate anxiety, and by the diligence
with which he catered for contributions, and edited the
Transactions, and by the affability and address with

198 BUSINESS, RECREATION'; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

which he conducted the business of the Council and of
the Society itself, he proved an able and not unsuccessful
substitute for his eminent and accomplished friend.

During the later years of his life, Mr Wilson interested
himself in territorial churches, and in efforts for improving
the dwellings of the poor, and, as an elder, he had consi-
derable outlet in his district and elsewhere, for the tender-
ness of his sympathy, and for more substantial benefactions.
But there were few associations, either benevolent or
scientific, which, in later years, engrossed so much of his
time and thought as the Fishery Board. In the fishes
themselves, as an angler and a naturalist, he felt a certain
interest, but as a patriotic Scotchman he felt still more
interest in their captors and consumers. The brave and
hardy seamen of our northern coasts commanded his
highest admiration, and knowing well the finny wealth of
those stormy waters, he was anxious that all should be
done which proprietors or a government can do, to lessen
the dangers, and augment the productiveness of this great
branch of national industry. First, in conjunction with
Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, and afterwards with the Hon.
Bouverie F. Primrose, many were the months winch he
spent afloat, in order to examine stations, quays, and
harbours ; many were the days spent in London and
elsewhere, urging on official personages points so vitally
affecting the food of the community and the defences

OCCUPATIONS.

199

of the realm ; and many were the memorials for private
perusal, and many the articles appealing to periodical
readers, which he prepared with infinite labour, in the
onerous discharge of his honorary duties.

Betwixt his stated pursuits and such occasional ser-
vices, the last five-and-twenty years of Mr Wilson's life
were abundantly and sometimes excessively occupied ; but
he neither made himself nor others believe that he was
busy. Making no fuss, and never in a bustle, the stranger
who found him in a public room writing rapidly, and
often interpolating amidst the talk a comic hit or repartee,
could hardly have guessed that the sheets he was so fast
accumulating were copy for a standard work, or that they
would go to the printer untranscribed and with scarcely
an erasure. And he himself, whilst producing manuscript
sufficient to supply all the zoological professorships of the
kingdom, simply because he pocketed no fees, and was not
obliged to take down his umbrella every winter’s day, and
go forth to lecture to a class of students for an hour, used
to sigh over himself as one of the unproductive classes,
and revert betwixt mournfulness and mirth to the days of
the “ stickit writership.”

So constant were his occupations that he found it hard
to secure a holiday. Occasionally, however, he carried off
his family to Westmoreland, or some other pleasant hiding-
place, and occasionally, as we have seen, he consented to

200 BUSINESS, RECREATION ; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

accompany a party of friends fly-catching or fly-fishing.
During a solitary excursion in 1835, he wrote the follow-
ing letter to his little daughter ;

“ The Burn, Fettercaern,
Monday night, 21 st Sept. 1835.

“ My dear Lassie, — I am sure you will be glad to hear
that I will be home in two or three days. The chief
pleasure in going from home is the coming back again.
What rounds of the garden we will have, and how happy
mamma will be, and how Corby will jump for joy ! I
daresay the leaves are now growing yellow in the face and
will soon tumble to the ground, and then, till a little frost
comes, everything will look wet and dirty. Never mind,
there are plenty of coals at the canal, and we will keep
good fires, and have plenty of fun within doors. Mamma
says there has been very bad weather since I went away,
but on the whole it has been good here. To-morrow we
are to take a long drive to Loch Lee, which is about fifteen
miles from this. In that part of the country, almost a
hundred years ago, an old woman hanged herself, and the
custom is, when any one commits suicide, to bury them
where the lands of two lairds meet. Well ! they tried to
carry this woman there, though it is a long way off among
the hills. A storm of snow came on — they were all like to
perish with cold and hunger ; so, long before they came to

DEATH OF MES WILSON.

201

the proper place, they just threw her into a wet black hole
in the moor. Well! what do you think? — not long ago
when all the people themselves were dead (though their
sons and daughters remembered the story, because they
had been told it by their fathers and mothers), the old
woman was discovered by a shepherd looking out of the
hole in the moss ; and there she lies at this present moment,
and may be seen by any one that chooses. I shall shake
hands with her, I hope, to-morrow. Would you like me
to bring her home to Woodville?”

With his tender feelings and strong affections, it was
sometimes well for Mr Wilson that he was obliged to be
busy. Like Baron Cuvier, who sought to dull the anguish
caused by the death of his lovely daughter Clementine, by
burying himself in absorbing study, many a scholar has
had cause to be thankful for the task which tore him away
from the too near companionship of sorrow. So was it in
1835, when a double bereavement had befallen Mr Wilson
in the death of two of his sisters within a fortnight of one
another, but when, in the midst of his grief, he was obliged
to sit down for eight unbroken weeks to an article on Ich-
thyology ; and so was it destined to prove in a lesser
degree under the sorer visitation which overtook him in
1 837, when he lost his beloved and excellent wife.

After the death of Mrs Foster, with his characteristic

202 BUSINESS, RECREATION ; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

severity in self-reviewing, John Foster says : — “ When a
person’s ill health is habitual, and complaints seldom
uttered, it is the fault of associates, who are themselves in
exempt condition, not to shew or feel the due attention or
sympathy. And it now comes upon me, with some degree
of regret and self-reproach, that I too seldom testified the
due sympathetic interest on this subject. It was an in-
terest which she most rarely claimed, and, therefore, should
have been the more spontaneously given. Not that I am
deeply accusing myself in this respect. I loved and valued
her deeply, cordially, and continually, and delighted to
reciprocate her devoted affection ; but it is strange to ob-
serve how anything that was less than the most watchful
attention can now come back to memory as a cause of
regret.” But even from the gentlest measure of such up-
braidings Mr Wilson was saved by the uniform solicitude
and tenderness with which he devoted himself to a wife
wrho had all the stronger claim on his sympathy from the
spirit with which she bore her infirmities, and the quiet
steadfastness with which she discharged domestic duties,
even in days of great personal suffering. Nevertheless,
although free from compunction, and blissfully assuaged
by the hope full of immortality, his grief was great ; and
it was well for him that an unusual pressure of literary
engagements necessitated the bestowment of some thought
on other themes. During the two following winters Mr

ABERFOYLE.

203

Wilson took a house in George Square, which brought
him nearer his Edinburgh friends.

The first letter after this event which has come into our
possession was written during a short fishing excursion, in
which he was tempted to join his friends, Sir T. D. Lauder
aud John Kirkpatrick, Esq.

“ Aberfoyle, 1 5th June 1838.

“ I hope you have been wearying to hear from me. I
snatch a few minutes while Sir Thomas treats himself to
a pipe, though smoking by no means makes him hold his
tongue. The chief disadvantage of his unfailing good
humour and cheerfulness is the contrast which these ex-
cellent qualities offer to my own depression, and which, I
fear, may make Kirkpatrick suppose that I am a sulky
rascal, which I don’t think I naturally am. But of this I
leave you to judge for yourself. We had but a murky
and indifferent voyage up to Alloa on Monday ; but we
sat near the funnel, and kept our backs warm. Kirk-
patrick met us at Alloa, from whence we walked up to
Tullibody, a nice, old-fashioned place, where we were well
received. We started in a shandrydan on Tuesday morn-
ing early, and got to Aberfoyle by about one o’clock, so
as to admit of our walking up to Lochard and enjoying a
few hours fishing before dinner. We killed only eight or
ten, but they were very fine fish; and the evening being

204 BUSINESS, RECREATION ; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

beau tif al, with a fine sun-set behind Benlomond, which
stands like a giant at the head of the loch, we enjoyed
ourselves somewhat. When I talk of enjoyment, it is,
perhaps, more in reference to the general feeling of the
party than my own individual feelings, which cannot be
otherwise than disconsolate; for the greater the apparent
resources of enjoyment within my reach, the more bitterly
do I feel the dread change which has befallen us in the
removal of one whose happiness I often hoped to connect
with some such scene as that which is now before my eyes.
During my former excursions my chief pleasure was in
writing to, or receiving letters from, her whose place knows
her no longer ; and if for a moment the sun seems to
shine as it was wont, and a sense of pleasure passes
through my heart, then a wave of darkness seems to over-
shadow me, and I feel as if it were selfish and unkind to
others even to seek for any happiness. But all this, I
know, proves the low and earthly nature of my hopes and
aspirations, and how unable I am to raise my thoughts to
that brighter world, where we know there are ‘many
mansions.’ I pray God I may be enabled by degrees to
wean myself from all these ‘ vexing thoughts,’ by which
for some time past I have been so disquieted. We know
unto whom we may go when weary and heavy laden, and
He will give us rest. I hope you have been enjoying the
two fine days we have had. I was thankful for them,

THE UNSEEN WORLD.

205

fully as much on E ’s account as my own. We went

up yesterday to Loch Con, a wild Highland region of
craggy rocks, with a rich sprinkling of oaks and birches
in the lower grounds, and towering mountains all around.

I

I fished pretty steadily all day, chiefly to keep my mind
from wandering into the unseen world ; but when I looked
up into the sky, and saw the glory of the castellated clouds
of snow, how could I help rambling away from this ‘ dim
spot,’ serenely beautiful though it was, to the bright array
of that imperishable land, where there is fulness of joy
for evermore ? In my present state of mind I must mix
all things together. The angling in Loch Con is not very
inspiriting. The trouts are few, but very fine. We only
killed ten, of which seven fell to my share, and three to
Sir Thomas.-”

TO HIS DAUGHTER.

“ Castle-Craig, by Noble-House,
10^7^ October 1838.

“ My dearest Lassie, — On the whole the weather has
been charming, and I have been enjoying myself as much
as I can well do, considering that I am away from my
sweet home, and that I cannot help reflecting on the days
that are past, and that can now be recalled no more for
ever. We were often asked to come out here Ions; ao-o.
Had we done so, there might have been great enjoyment ;

206 BUSINESS, EECREATION ; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

blit it was the will of God to ordain it otherwise, and
therefore T ought not to grieve or think myself desolate
when alone in these melancholy woods, for God ls ever
with me, and all who love Christ the Saviour are ever be-
neath the shadow of His wings. I wish I was always
more cheerful for your sakes ; but we know that we are
not willingly afflicted, and if my discomforts of mind and
body have the effect of weaning me from this world, and
fixing my affections on things above, happy will it be for
me and mine. How thankful should I be that while one
beloved parent, who so deeply desired your happiness, has
been removed from earthly struggles, you have so affec-
tionate a friend and teacher in dear H , whom may

God bless for all she does for you ! Both Johnnie and
yourself have it in your power to give her what she will
think her highest human reward, by your fearing God,
obeying His commandments, loving one another, and being
gentle and kind to all around you. This do, as a faithful
follower of Christ, whose sinless nature we cannot approach
unto, but whose divine example may, by God’s grace, when
daily dwelt on, ennoble our thoughts and purify our actions,
so that we grieve not the Holy Spirit. When weary and
heavy laden, as all must often be during our pilgrimage
here, let us cast our burden on One who will not leave us
nor forsake us. While thus depending upon God and the
Saviour whom He sent, let us enjoy with a grateful heart

PATERNAL COUNSEL.

207

whatever earthly blessings are within our reach. Let us
cultivate and increase our human friendship and affections,
and believe that although sin has made this world a world
of sorrow, yet that there is much true happiness at the
command of the children of God, among whom I earnestly
pray my own may ever be. When I sat down to write to
you, my beloved daughter, it was not my intention to write
you a little sermon, though, perhaps, it ought to have been.
If I speak but seldom to you of sacred things, believe it
is not that they are absent from my mind, but that the
equally strong affection, and much greater knowledge and
capacity of your beloved mother made my services less
essential, and that still, by the goodness of God, you

enjoy the instructions of your dear H . But yet I

say to you, now and always, ‘Believe in the Lord Jesus
Christ, and thou shalt be saved.’ ”

In 1839, the scene of a little trip was London, and his
first letter was to his son. Its tone is abundantly sprightly,
as befits the subject and his youthful correspondent, then
a school-boy at the Academy.

2 Stanhope Place, Hyde Park, London,
18 th July 1839.

I have been twice to the Zoological Gardens. The
live Gameleopards, three in number, are, of course, the

SOS BUSINESS, RECREATION ; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

most curious and surprising of all the beasts. They are
extremely mild in their manners, with su^et faces and
beautiful black eyes, very like many of the ladies I see in
Hyde Park, only far prettier than most of them, and with
longer and more graceful necks. As they don’t like to
stoop down when they browse, their cribs are placed at a
considerable height. These are merely small baskets like
fish-creels, of open texture, hung upon the wall and filled
with a dry u»zspy-looking plant, neither hay nor clover.
They often stretch up their necks and pull out their food,
without taking the trouble to rise from their sides. The
one that had the young one is the least of the three, and
scarcely cared at all when her child died. The latter is
now stuffed and placed near its mother, but she never
looks at it. Now, we know that a sheep whose young has
died will keep by the dead body for a long time, and will
follow any one even from its sweet solitary pastoral hills
into the heart of a crowded city, if he carries the skin of
the lamb in his hand.

“The deers and llamas are very fine, and the camels,
bisons, &c., of great size. Most of these animals are very
tame, but there is an otter which bites every one who is
foolish enough to put his hand within its railing. It is
kept in a pretty large circular wired enclosure, with a
pond in the middle, and a small rock-work island in the
centre, with a hollow den for it to sleep in. On each side

ZOOLOGICAL GARDEK.

209

of its enclosure are written the words, ‘The otter bites;'
and when I was there, it had nearly bitten an old woman’s
toe. I suppose she had ten of them, so the loss of one at
hex time of life would not have mattered much.

There are hundreds of parrots, and one entirely yellow,
just like a canary in colour. The cranes are very grace-
ful, and of diverse kinds; the bears likewise of diverse
kinds, but quite the reverse of graceful. The ducks and
geese are likewise divers of their kind, and there is a cor-
morant with a throat that would swallow a rolling-stone.

“The cheetah, or hunting tiger, is the first true one I
ever saw. The animal usually shewn under that name is
more of a leopard, but the true cheetah has a pale-coloured
coat, covered over by numerous small single separate spots,
not forming circular groups as in the leopard. We went
to see the lions and tigers fed, and their roaring was
dreadful. There is a great lot of live dogs, which also at
feeding time pretended to be fierce, but I saw that most
of them were laughing all the time. One of the largest
and finest is a Persian shepherd’s dog, as big as a New-
foundland, which uncle M'Neill sent home. He spoke to
it m Persian, which made it turn round, but it would not
shake its tail or speak to him in return. By the by, there
is a Persian cat here (a blue one), which is to be boarded
at Woodville till the M'Neills are settled. It is accustomed

to be chained up, so there is no fear of our birds ”

0

210 BUSINESS, RECREATION ; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

In subsequent letters to his niece he describes the re-
hearsal of the Eglinton Tournament, visits to the British
Museum, and interviews with various eminent zoologists.
“ I did not see poor Children, whose wife, I fear, is dying ;
but Samouelle and both the Grays were very civil. What
I admire in these people is their devotion to their own
business. They seem to look upon London just as a great
ornithological or entomological world, and care no more
about Hyde Park or the House of Commons than they do
about Kirkaldy or Canonmills. It would be well for some
of us if we could care keenly for anything.” “ Young
White was delighted with the Java insects, six or seven
of which were not in the Museum, although Mr Children
had them in his private collection. I have got a few
things from them, and might have got more, if I had been
in a taking humour.”

tc Wednesday, 24 th July 1839.

“ On Tuesday of last week I lunched at Blackheath
with the Hays, and went through Greenwich Hospital.
Near the Observatory, in Greenwich Park, I saw a man
with two other men. He stared at us, and at every-
thing, and I stared at him. None of our party discerned
who it was, till I told them : and I had no business to
know ; but instinct told me it could be nobody but Lord
Brougham, and so it was Saturday being a closed

DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 21]

day at the British Museum, I went there by invitation

th6reSt °f E“°gical Collection.
‘ _ i lldren, who is a gentlemanly man, and apo-

gised for being unable to shew me any hospitality. I

mw well by sad experience how sick at heart he might

■ W , 6'„ “ S*mday' to chmch ‘wice. Monday even-
J’u. \ ^ °f L°rds- As we entered, the Duke of

Wellington was speaking. He appeared to much greater

ad ntage and with a more commanding air, in plain

tk h I" f "at °« t^n on horse-back in the

k He evidently rules the House of Lords, and knows

, , 6 ' °eS S°‘ He has a vrjr'y fine appearance when he

n 7 SPeating' His featares being large, his neck
lather long, and his chest broad, he has the aspect of a

man, though he is not so. As soon as he had done
speaking he plumped down, and pulled his hat over his
eyes perhaps to shade them from the fast-failing day-
b?h which streamed upon him through the tall Go Jo

*■» .. a. 1 “ “ ■" « •

in three nv f i 1 ’ 1 hg t tIie wax~ candles

”, *• - - - — LiZZZZS

212 BUSINESS, RECREATION ; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

staring at him all the time. He appeared almost intent
upon, this, although several lordly statesmen were deliver-
ing their speeches in the interval. I was in the front row,
and in the course of the evening caught his eye several
times. I think he wanted to know how long I would
glower at him. Lord Brougham spoke several times.”

In the close of the following month we find him gone
for a few days’ fishing in the Tweed, and accompanied by
his son and Sir John M'Neill.

TO HIS DAUGHTER.

“ Innerleithen, Friday evening, the
day of the month unknown. [The
postmark is August 31, 1839.]

“ Uncle M ‘Neill (tell H she still spells that family

name extremely wrong) left us yesterday morning about
five minutes after seven ; and in spite of my usual morning
idleness, I was up and stirring to give him a cup of coffee
and my company to the coach office. John, I am sorry to
say, had suffered all night from toothache (the effect, I
doubt not, of wading), so I allowed him to snooze on till
nine. I suppose that by this time you will have received
my letter. I think I told you we had gone up for some
hours to St Mary’s Loch. The day was raw and gusty
(this is the French for disgusting) ; and the scene, though

st mary’s loch.

213

westing, was less beautiful than when I saw it for the

V1K Sm mtamn ^ year 1834 T

ST Cr PCrfe? ** y°“ «“ tell where

Itrr and ae water ^

rrmleT^th^h^'’ tieyd0 “* W what they

m,,„ • , , CI l,P0n- -fweed, sweeping fish-

guts into the everlasting sea Tint •* . °

with lakes and lochs W 1 , WBr ^ n°‘

no locus, but lads and lassies — still nressi™
onwards, onwards l», i , . „ pressing

inv still to , bnef yearsi *“» stand-

° 111 to Ponder dubiously the amount t ■

then finding little „« 7 nt of gam, and

'crystal voi * ^ of r«rance but that

be recaned t “ CareleSSly “* Way’ 110 “ore to
— e,

enor at this season to what it is in s„rim ™
scenery, however, is beautiful- and wl = Tbe

t0™*° ^s decline, by the“de ^

thoQght of tte y 2 ;;atb™ °f ®bank Castle, and

“used by its shattered wafis ls f ^ “"09 1 had kst

walls, alas ! how mournful was the

2] 4 BUSINESS, RECREATION ; SUNSHINE, SHADOW,

remembrance ! The 'great magician/ he who so devotedly
loved the Tweed, that even in the valley of the shadow of
death its murmuring was music to his ears, where was he ?
That mighty minstrel, whose eye had so often delighted
in those varying lights and shadows which my feeble
vision still saw adorning the green mountains in un-
diminished glory, was now in the ‘ narrow house.’ This
very day, amid all the pomp and proud emblazonry of
the so-called tournament, how few will think of him
whose creative genius brought to life and light the little
that we know and feel of knightly prowess ! Sir Walter
has been much in my mind since I came here ; and every
beautiful hill or graceful bend in the river that I see
brings him to my remembrance ; for I know how every
feature of the Tweed was a part almost of himself. Our
present intention is to be home on Tuesday before dinner;
but don’t be uneasy. We may write again. Adieu, be-
loved.”

The summer of 1841 was devoted to a somewhat ex-
tensive exploration of the Scottish coasts and islands, in
the company of Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, and on board
the government cutter, the Princess Royal. The voyage
lasted nearly a hundred days, that is, from the 17th of
June till the 12th of September, and, as usual, its inci-
dents were reported in long and lively letters home. On

FITFUL HEAD.

215

is return, lie was persuaded to revise these letters, and
towards the close of next year, he published, in two volumes,
"A Voyage round the Coasts of Scotland and the Isles ” a
book rich in poetry and humour; and, with its magnifi-
cent descriptions and amusing information, still the best
guide to the romantic regions which he visited ; or to
those who have not courage for a yacht-voyage, the best
substitute for an actual survey.

As everything is interesting, which throws light on the

creations of Sir Walter Scott, we transcribe from one of

Mr Wilson's Shetland letters, a passage which he himself
has not published : —

TO MISS SYM, BE AND OH PLACE, GLASGOW.

"While at Lerwick, I met with a strong illustration
of what has often struck me elsewhere, namely, that go
w ere one might, and however restricted the range of
their general acquaintance, some one is foregathered with

W 0,SerVeS “ 8 liBk *° C°nneC* the present with thffpast’
m relation even to one's own particular friends and family

th “ d6d “ SMand’ 1 cortainly did not suppose
tha there existed in that ‘Ultima Thule,’ a single indivi-
dual who had ever heard of me or mine, unless the fame
certain literary relations, such as Miss Sym of Glas-
gow, or Professor Wilson of Edinburgh, might, in some

216 BUSINESS, EECEEATION; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

measure, have made them familiar with both the paternal
and maternal name. Be this as it may, I was told that an
elderly lady, a Mrs Grierson, was very anxious that I should
call upon her. Thinking it unlikely (as I had been already
two days in Lerwick) that any young lady would be so, I
accepted the invitation of ‘mine ancient/ and waited upon
her accordingly. I found her to be the eldest daughter
of a Captain Grant of Rippochy, of whom, in bygone days,
I had often heard my mother tell. He had been billeted,
I believe, upon my father, probably before I was born ;
a strong attachment sprang up between them, and he and
his wife continued to reside in the Paisley house for
months, and carried on acquaintance and correspondence
with our people for many a year. Of all this you may
probably remember more than I ever heard tell of. I
myself well recollect a Miss Helen Grant, and another
sister, visiting Queen Street when I was a boy, one of
them, a fair-haired woman, with a largish longish nose ;
and I have a vague notion of their living, during one or
more of these visits, with a Mr Manderson, an apothecary,
who was afterwards Provost of Edinburgh. Of course it
was very interesting to me to hear, in that far distant land,
this worthy Mrs Grierson so eloquent in the praises of
my parents. I do not know that it was ever my fortune
before to hear any one talk of my father as a person whom
they had known, excepting, of course, yourself, and others

NOEXA.

217

of my immediate relations. I sat a good deal with her,
and as she seemed to be fond of talking, which I am not,
she had her will. But what struck me as a singular fact
m her history was this : You are probably aware, that
her father and mother lost their life owing to the well
meant and affectionate kindness of one of their daughters
(whether Mrs Grierson or not I cannot say) who placed
a chauffer of coals in what she feared might be a damp or
airless room, in which her parents were to sleep. They
were both found suffocated next morning. The knowledge
of this dreadful catastrophe is, of course, not new either to
myself or you. But this other related fact, or rather fiction,
seems to have sprung out of it, though not that I know of
traced to its source, either by John Lockhart, or any other
of Sir Walter Scott’s biographical commentators. In the
novel, called the ‘Pirate/ the scene of which is laid in
Shetland, a wild, almost mad enthusiast is described
under the name of Norna of the Pitful Head. She some-
where, in the course of the work, discloses her own early
history, and the dire calamities which had befallen her.
The most fatal and overwhelming of these resulted from
her closing her parents’ bed-room door, which she found
ajar one morning at an early hour, when about to fulfil
an assignation with her lover. Her parents both died in
consequence, from suffocation, and remorse drove her to
insanity. Now what has this to do with Mrs Grierson

218 BUSINESS, RECREATION ; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

who certainly bears about her none of the wild eccentrici-
ties of Noma of the Fitful Head? Not much essentially,
though I doubt not, it was the narration of the Grant
tragedy that furnished Sir Walter Scott with both the
designation of Norna, and the most awful event in her
history. Mrs Grierson’s husband (a Shetland laird) was
proprietor of Fitful Head, the most south-western por-
tion of Shetland, and she herself is at present Mrs Grierson,
senior, of the same. I doubt not that when Scott in the
course of his Shetland voyage passed by the magnificent
promontory so named, and inquired its owners or occupiers,
he might learn the fate of Mrs Grierson’s parents, and
would afterwards entwine that sad portion of her own or
sister’s history in his fictitious picture of Shetland sceneiy
and manners.”

As Dr George Wilson has remarked in his beautiful
tribute to the memory of Mr Wilson,* “ His mind w^as
essentially a poetical one, and he strongly sympathised
with that comparatively small class of scientific men who
find food for the imagination as well as for the intellect
in their studies, and employ both in prosecuting them.”
In early life especially, he read with avidity works of
imagination, and was familiar with the masterpieces of
British genius. Byron became a great favourite, and he
* In the Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal, July 1856.

WORDSWORTH.

219

could repeat the whole of “ Childe Harold/’ But no one
so entirely seized each sympathy, and revealed to himself
so much of the inner world and of the wealth around us
everywhere as William Wordsworth. To the close of life,
if any line of the laureate was repeated, he could always
continue the quotation, and amongst all the devotees who
repaired to Bydal Mount, no one could be a more intense
admirer. Soon after his marriage, he spent a summer at
his brothers beautiful Elleray, and the first time that he
went to call on the poet, “his mind’s father,”* he was so
nervous and excited that he would not allow Mrs Wilson
or any one to accompany him. A few days afterwards,
hov evei, as the ladies were sitting in the drawing-room
he rushed out exclaiming, “Wordsworth ! Wordsworth!”
and sure enough Wordsworth came across the lawn, and
entering by the open window, spent with them a long and
delightful day. The acquaintance thus begun lasted for
moie than twenty years, and in the attractions which so
often drew Mr Wilson to Westmoreland, one of the very
chiefest was the shrine of “The Excursion.”

When Mr Wilson published his “Voyage,” he sent
Wordsworth a copy. The reader will be amused by the
naiveU of the criticism, which assumes that his corres-
pondent was not “practised in writing for the press.”
Although so familiar with the living forms around him,

* See page 92.

220 BUSINESS, RECREATION ; SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

and so accurate in describing them, the poet was not
much acquainted with books of natural history; and so
little of an egotist or pedant was Mr Wilson, that one
might have lived with him a century without ever sus-
pecting that he had published anything. Conversely, it
might be feared that some good naturalists are little
acquainted with the poems of Wordsworth. Mr Wilson
had an entomological acquaintance of high attainments,
who had spent all his days buried in beetles, and who had
never heard the name of Sir Walter Scott till Mr Wilson
mentioned it to him.

“ Rydal Mount, 14th March ’43.

“ My dear Mr Wilson, — You will almost be at a loss
to think what has become of me, I have been so tardy in
acknowledging the kind present of your ‘Voyage.’ If I
am not mistaken, I told you that the book would remain
at Carlisle till my son William had read it. He was then
upon the point of going to Herefordshire, .... and
various causes have kept him from Carlisle seven weeks,
so that I have not long had your book in my possession.
But I am now enabled to say, that though I have not
read every part of it, it has given me very great pleasure,
both on account of the interesting and rarely visited
regions you passed through, but also by the manner in
which you have described what you saw. Your pages

the etteick shepheed. 221

abound with lively pictures, and not ^frequently occurs
a very bappy and original expression, such as ‘the small
pme breathing places through the deep blue sky/ in
your animated picture of the Loch Corruiskin.

. “ When tllere is 80 much t0 admire, I feel little scruple
“ eipreSSmS “ ‘Pat here and there your descrip-

hons nnght advantageously have been pruned down a
tie, a fault which has arisen entirely from your not
poetised in writing for the press. Had I been a

T , f f yearS’ 0r eve“ (and not of seventy-three
as I shall be if I live to fbp ^ J ’

1 Ve the ?th of next April), I should

. GC ^ 7 to be y°nr fellow-voyager. Thanking

.vou gam for the pleasure you have afforded me, I remain

nry dear Mr Wilson, sincerely your much obliged, ’

“ Wm. Woedswoeth.”

^ Jhe fetter inclosed a then unpublished poem on Grace

AJJAiu WHITE, ESQ.

Woodville, S ill December 1842.

, Y DEAE ®IR* P ™s glad to receive your letter this

“fz p°ot

222 BUSINESS, RECREATION J SUNSHINE, SHADOW.

gone three times from the sitting-room to the kitchen,
taking each time a caulker of whisky, which actually
seemed to strengthen him for the time, hut I suppose, in
the long-run, and continued as it was from day to day,
was his destruction. I hear nothing of my brother’s life
of the Scotch worthy. Except a Life of Burns, I under-
stand he has written little or nothing for several years,
having never resumed his literary labours (apart from
what was required for the duties of his class) since his
wife’s death. It gives me great pleasure, however, to
know that he took up his pen again recently, at least for
a day or two, while writing the review (of course a very
laudatory one) of Macaulay’s magnificent ‘ Lays of Ancient
Borne ’ in the last number of Blackwood’ s Magazine.

“We passed a delightful autumn in Westmoreland, where
we found the ‘ eternal hills ’ much as they were of old,
when I first knew them some thirty years ago, but the
society, of course, greatly changed. However, a few re-
mained of those whom I desired to see, especially old
Wordsworth, who is in great force both of mind and
body. I regret to say that poor Southey is in a deplorable
state, so far as his once splendid intellect is concerned.
He knows no one, not even his own wife, and requires to
be fed and led like a child.”

CHAPTER VII.

€mm m 4,|inn'« $ml % tliisficr,
aitir fjj* Ciitiffr.

" ’Twlere tw i ^ °f >™U“. and shower,

For z:*£r~? in -■*- - »*■.

I n +r M 7 . g that can war "'ith its power
the wdd dmy cliffs that are cIeavjng ^

-—Andrew Park.

"1™ he was about to eaToh“ T I ^ ** ” “* *«*“»«
-ore tempting, In ^ “#■* *»* the bigger and

-d though I do not oast my ™ ^

P^s as I can, cany them a, conveniently a3r 7 “ “ bWe COm‘

let them annoy others.--^ go^“ 1 “ lOT “^elf, and never

»

Notwithstanding its nautical title, we shall not be
afloat throughout the whole of this chapter, but as the

“atenak f0r tlle Present biography are Mr Wilson’s
own letters, and as most of the letters in our possession

*° 1850 were at sea, we hare taken

. 6 6Ity t0 mclude the correspondence of the entire
interval under this head.

°“ *.e I7f °f JlJy 1S43> te ™te from Woodville to
bir William Jardine : —

"I have promised Sir Thomas Lauder to take a run as

ar “ . ie IsIand of Harris- t0 aid him in some inquiries
regarding the fishing capabilities of those insular shores
oid Dunmore, who purchased the island some time ago is
o meet us m Glasgow towards the end of this month, and ’
proceed m the Rnncess Royal to his estate, which he

earcely 1 s. are , ^ ^ ^ e

:dtirrduceisHtae^-^--

trout i m T “g COd’ 1 t0Pe to a few
t out I shall be glad to preserve specimens for you and

here is anything else you wish to direct my attention

22G

CMJISES.

to, please let me know. I suppose a little jar with whisky
will do for the trouts, but if there is any mode of wrapping
up in cloth or otherwise, so as to preserve the scales, you
can instruct me. I remember our Sutherland specimens
were much damaged ; but in my intended trip there will
be little or no land-carriage. I think that a small col-
lection of specimens, even of the common burn and loch
trout, of what may be called (except St Kilda, where
there are no trout) the extreme west of all Scottish
countries, may form an interesting addition to your col-
lections.”

TO MISS H. WILSON.

“ Shooting Lodge (name unknown,
at least unpronounceable),
North-west op Harris,

6th August ’43.

“You will be pleased to hear that everything has gone
on among us most agreeably, in spite of an occasional
angry disputatious wind and sullen sky. I believe that
we enjoy our bright sunshine all the more for the con-
trast, like a diamond ‘ on the brow of an Ethiopian/

“We arrived at the south-eastern corner of Harris on
the evening of Tuesday, 2d August. The approach on
such a calm sweet evening was beautiful, or rather it was
wild and romantic, with something of an unrelenting

HAKEIS.

227

sternness in the lofty background winch bestowed upon
it almost a character of magnificence.

“E°f UeS “ a HttIe screened by rocky islands

°Ur approa°h “ long-boat, and just as we
neared the shore the cutter fired a salute of sk guns, and

never saw a finer marine picture than she presented as

engines o loud-throated war’ threw successively their

*Z 0f Pearly Smote °™r the clear waters, and
6 r“C"y Cleeks and mountain caverns echoed re-
peated^ the voice of thunder. • Dunmore’ seemed highly

pleased noth this piece of nautical attention, although on
ese almost unpeopled shores there were but few to wit-
ness or to welcome the arrival of the great man The

; 01, Z mS fWm h°me ’ bUt We were ^»mly wel-
mec y is wife, a handsome woman of excellent

— a. w . **

“T" d4 “ '»■* M '

We explored the old churchyard and the ruins of the

cathedral of Kodil both that

r 4 ’ b0th that eve™ g and durW the

ailier part of the ensuing dav Tin
1 1 ° y- lhcre are some curious

Old monuments, with stony knkhts in „

inscriptions which it is difficult to decipher It , '

from a Latin table that the whole bffi IT ”

m 1787, and consumed by fire almost 7“

after, and then repaired aLin ' V * 7 *W

nericd it , , For some time after that

period served as the parish church, or at least as the

228

CRUISES.

church of that portion of the parish, and then it fell into
gradual disrepair, till most of the roof fell down. It is
now of no use except to the starlings, of which great
numbers were nestling in the main tower or perching on
the remains of the rafters. One of the more modern
monuments records that a certain Macleod married his
third wife in his seventy-fifth year, and was blessed with
nine children before his death, which took place in his
ninetieth year.

“ The mountains in this northern part of Harris are of
great height, and with the bold rocky foreground and the
placid sea and their own broken gigantic summits, form
a noble landscape in the way of sterile grandeur. The
island is said to produce good pasture, and I suppose the
numerous little vales, or rather hollows, among the shel-
tered rocks are clothed with grass ; but the general aspect
of the whole, as seen from the sea, is as barren as any-
thing unscorched by fire. However, on a calm, sweet
summer evening, the hills lying in deep shadow, very
dark and solemn — above and between them in the western
distance a most gorgeous sky of crimson-coloured gold,
broad and rich below, and dying away towards the zenith
in fleecy specks of fire upon a ground of most transparent
blue — the whole reflected on the bosom of still waters —
the scene is one of almost unexampled beauty. The
pleasure is probably the greater from the contrast pre-

SEA-TEOUT.

229

sented by these aerial effects of a perfectly fine evening,

and those of a cold monotonous or misty morning, such as

I daresay prevails throughout a lengthened portion of the
year.

“Saturday the 5th was wet and blustry. We left the
cutter, about three o’clock, and met Lord Dunmore and
his friend on shore at the head of the loch. We then
crossed together the narrow neck of land which separates
East from West Tarbet. On the shore of the latter we
found his lordship's gig, and a crew of six picked men, all
in uniform, with scarlet caps. In an hour and a half
they rowed us eight miles westward to where we now are,
a snug little sheltered mansion in a creek called Loch
Losevagh, with all comforts at command. I have got a
wee room, not much bigger than a state-room in a
steamer, and a larger one would have been too sudden a
transition from my crib on board the cutter.”

TO SIE WILLIAM JAEDINE, BAET.

“ Woodville, 6th Nov. ’43.

“ 1 had a Peasant trip to tire Western Isles, where
that is in Harris, I found the best sea-trout fishing I had
ever anywhere experienced. Sir Thomas Lauder and
myself killed 223 pound weight in a very few days,
almost all fine fish for sport. There was only one of

200

CRUISES.

seven pounds, another of five, but a vast number of two
and three pounds. One party killed twelve deer, with a
quantum suff. of grouse and ptarmigan.

“ I left them soon, having to return home and take my
people to Killiecrankie, where the weather was too fine
and the water too low for fishing ; but where we enjoyed
the finest river scenery in the world, so far, at least, as I
am acquainted with this terraqueous globe.

“ I wish you would turn in your mind something for
the Royal Society this season. Owing to poor Forbes’s
illness and detention in Italy, I anticipate that that learned
body will be ill off for scientific business.” -

Of his six weeks’ sojourn in the romantic regions of
the Tummel and Garry, he wrote a full account to an old
and much-esteemed friend. But even the pen of James
Wilson leaves the sylvan wealth of Killiecrankie un-
described. We transcribe the less pictorial portion of his
letter : —

TO MRS FLETCHER, LANCRIGG, AMBLESEDE.

“ W oodyille, 24 th Jan. 1844.

“ Our cottage was placed upon a sloping hill-side, close
to the southern entrance to the pass of Killiecrankie, and
commanded from its latticed windows a fine sweeping
view down the valley of the Tay, towards Dunkeld. We

I

A llGrEE AT KILLIECEANKIE. 231

sat there with devouring eyes almost for a week, without
going further. My first dvalk into the Pass was alone
on a sweet, calm, dewy morning. I was thinking of other
cays, of the wild cries which had once echoed along that
loc vy river, and of the bloody Clavers, whose bones lay
uned almost beneath my feet; when, on approaching a
veiy solemn pine-shadowed portion of the Pass, I neared
a peculiar kind of carriage with an iron grating, and ad-
vancing upon it for a close inspection, an enormous Ben-
ga tiger with its burning breath sprung up to meet me.
Though fond of natural histoiy, I was somewhat startled
by the suddenness of this unexpected salutation. But I
ad scarcely time to wonder where I was, before a gorgeous
group of eight richly harnessed horses, drawing an open
carnage, passed before me. Then came a vehicle nearly
- high as a steeple-at least so high that I cannot yet
conceive how the old umbrageous branches of the over-
angmg forest permitted it to pass below. Various other
carnages with two, three, or four horses, followed in the
Wa e, till at last the mystery was solved by the fact
as mg on me, that Van Amburg and his beasts had been
a nverness, and were now travelling southwards to a
more genial clime. But the effeet of meeting such a
isce aneous and incongruous group, in the solemn and
otherwise Silent Pass of Killiecrankie, was singular and
ather staking in its way. I doubt not, no other came-

232

CKUISES.

leopard had ever been seen there from the beginning of
creation, and, it may be, will never be seen there again,
till the end of time.

“We led a secluded, if not a savage life, and had little
intercourse with our neighbours, saving the humbler class.
Indeed, owing to the great extent of their Highland
estates, neighbours, in the ordinary sense, were few and far
between. As members of the Free Church, we passed our
Sabbath-days almost in a fairy palace ; an open, yet shel-
tered circular space, clothed with the softest turf, and
encircled by the slender spray and silver stems of aro-
matic birches —

‘ Most beautiful of forest trees,

The lady of the woods.’

The people were attentive, and much impressed — an ad-
ditional feeling of devotion seeming to have come upon
them since the disruption of the old Establishment. The
gentry, however, and all the higher classes there, as else-
where, are hostile to the movement, and shew their hos-
tility by every means, whether active or passive, within
their power. It has always appeared to myself, that,
even setting aside the awful importance of the subject, it
is a strange return for chieftains and heads of families to
make, in these days of peace, to the descendants of those
faithful followers, who, in the rude contendings of other
times, shrunk not from shedding their blood like water

eights of peopeety.

233

for the glory of the clan. If the sacrifice of life is the
duty of the serf in time of war, there is surely a corre-
spondmg duty on the part of the chieftain in times of peace,
involving a kindly consideration of the wants and wishes
of their descendants. I am not much of a Eadical, possibly
not so much of a Whig as yourself ; but I think it is a
very grave matter of consideration how far rights of pro-
perty, as they are called, actually extend, when their strict
and tenacious exercise interferes with the wellbeing and
t e welldoing of a whole community over an extensive
district. No doubt, people who feel themselves aggrieved
m one country may make their way into another ; but
suppose that all the landed proprietors in Great Britain
were to make up their minds among themselves to some
restrictive system, what would happen ? Of course, the
present constitution of society would be rent asunder in
consequence of that injustice; and it is but a poor pallia-
tion of those who now commit it, that there are some who
act in a more Christian spirit.

“ 7® retUmed here about th° second week in October
and have been carrying on much in our usual quiet way.’

< nburgh and its society, so far as we happen to be con-
versant with it, is pretty much as when you left it. My
o c riend Patrick Kobertson is raised to the bench, and
ooks well and portly in his judicial garments. I dined
wn i him a few weeks ago at Sir William Allan’s, the

234

CRUISES.

artist, and found him very cheerful and social, but yet
with something of a dignified subduedness of manner,
more amusing to myself than his most burlesque humours.
Miss Strickland, a literary lady, I believe, of some name,'
was down in the autumn, and left a favourable impression ;

and Mrs R and her fair daughters are still among us,

in. great force and high favour/'’

TO MISS H. WILSON.

“ Loch Inveb, Friday evening,

10 th July 1846.

“We have been fishing a little since we came here.
Both John Lauder and I hooked a good grilse yesterday;
but each of ns, with our usual humanity, allowed him to
escape after a few minutes’ play. To-day I killed eighteen
fine river trout — that is, fresh-water ones found in the
river, but more like lakers. There are a great many
salmon in the bay, and in the lower parts of the river,
where the pools are too rocky and uproarious to fish with
any security. There is also constant netting at the mouth
of the river ; and, a short way up, there is a cruive which
allows nothing to pass through it except when it is opened,
from Saturday night to Monday morning.

“We started early this morning. I went up the river
two or three miles, leaving John Lauder and Simson
Innes at the cruives, below which there is a good salmon

SERPENT-CATCHING.

235

pool I then fished downwards from the highest point to

" 11<? 1 acl walkei 1 want0|l to be home early, both to
rest myself, and to write by the post which goes to-nioht-

nt it is slow walking by a river side. When I was about
a nu e and a half from Loch Inver, my progress was
opped by a projecting rock, and I had to climb upwards
ns ead of a small rocky bank above me, I soon found
that there was a great crag; and after gettingup a certain
way, with my fishmg-rod poked and poised before me as
best I could, I found myself in a regular fix, being unable
o get either up or down. However, I contrived to get to
he top at last, without the loss of life or line, although it
ce amec me above an hour, and was very disagreeable.

7 lie pursuing my downward way, I saw two snakes* in
friendly confabulation, and looking very sweet both at
emselves and me. I immediately took off my hat, dashed
one of my hands among the grass beneath them, and tossed
hem both into the air. However, only „ne fell into my
a , the other making his escape. I immediately put my
hat upon my head, and walked home with the serpent on
the top of the latter. It did not hotel, f so much as you
might have expected, but lay very resigned and peaceable

aS n° P~ *** »* seen- Supposing she had

* They would be slow-worms.
f That is, wriggle about or move uneasily.

236

CRUISES.

been taken outwards to give some stranger a short cruise,
I sat clown upon a rock by the shore. In about an hour
I saw what I thought the cutter coming in, and in good
time for dinner; but I soon saw it was another vessel of
the same size and rig; and so I sat for nearly another
hour. Getting very cold after the previous wading, I
made my way towards the bit inn, where I immediately
found a letter from Sir Thomas, saying that he had been
requested to run the cutter up to Scourie, to bring the
Duke and his two sons to Loch Inver to-morrow. He had
sent a messenger up the river to bring me down, but he
had missed me, probably while I was on the crags. His
note was an apology for being obliged to run off for a
night, and leave me at the inn. Luckily he sent a small
supply of clothing — not quite the things I wanted, but
they must suffice. John Lauder and S. Innes had been
caught at the cruives in time. So I am alone in an ex-
tremely cold house, with no fire at this moment even in the
kitchen, as they seem to be giving everything a thorough
redd * for to-morrow. However, I am promised some
broiled salmon and cold mutton speedily. All my papers
are on board, and my only book — luckily, one of my best
— is Clarke’s £ Promises/ which I carry in my breast-
pocket, and use when I rest myself, by murmuring river
or on mountain side.”

* Putting in order.

CLARKE “ ON THE PROMISES."

237

The copy of Clarke “ On the Promises ” was a miniature
edition given to him by Mrs Wilson. It was the vade-
mecum of all his journeys, and although it was not his

custom to pencil his books, some of its texts were marked
sucli as tlie following- : .

“ G°d S0 loved the worH that he gave his only-begotten
Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish,
but have everlasting life" (John iii. 16).

“ Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest ” (Matt. xi. 28).

“ That whosoever believeth in him should not perish
but have eternal life” (John iii. 15).

“ The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to

be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in
us” (Eom. viii. 18).

“Our light affliction, which is but for a moment,
worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of
glory” (2 Cor. iv. 17).

As foi me, I will behold thy face in righteousness :

shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness ” (Ps
xvii. 15). v

Wherefore he is able also to save them to the utter-
most that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth
to make intercession for them ” (Heb. vii. 25).

“They are before the throne of God, and serve him
day and night m his temple : and he that sitteth on the

238

CRUISES.

throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no
more, neither thirst any more ; neither shall the sun light
on them, nor any heat. Tor the Lamb which is in the
midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them
unto living fountains of waters ; and God shall wipe away
all tears from their eyes ” (Eev. vii. 1 5-1 7).

TO SIR WILLIAM JARDINE, BART.

“ Woodville, Ncre. 3, 1848.

“ I am not quite sure but that there may be a meeting
of the Board of Fisheries on Wednesday, which I will
require to attend. Lord Berriedale and myself were
lately appointed a committee to draw up a memorial to
Government regarding the recent disasters among the
fishing population. The view I took of it was, that we
should make out as strong a case as possible as to the
necessity of a harbour of refuge, or great breakwater,
being erected at the public expense, somewhere on the
north-east coast beyond the Cromarty Frith, and nearer
the centre of the great fishing rendezvous — the nature of
the structure, and its particular locality, to be determined
by a marine surveyor or engineer whom the Government
should commission to inspect, inquire, and report. I was
busy with the documents transmitted to the Board, re-
garding the disastrous loss of fife and property which
occurred in August, when I learned that Government,

A BANQUET OF BEETLES.

239

without solicitation (at least from the Board of Fisheries),
had agreed to send down Captain Washington, the Ad-
miralty surveyor, for the very purpose. I therefore made
short work with the intended report, and got Lord Berrie-
dale to sign a paragraph or two stating to the Board,
that in Captain Washington’s appointment, our object
ad been attained. Now, if there is to be a meetino- 0f
the Board on Wednesday (it is their usual day), I should
Le to be present, m the event of any report by Captain
W ashington being to be laid before us."

TU THE REV. JOHN SYM.

“ TH0RNY How> Grasmere, 1 1th August 1849
“MY DEAE PAST0E’- • • • • I was greatly pleased
; “f *7' 1 Stayed With entomological friend,
6 y’ °r a week’ and received from him and his
larnily every kindness, including a box of beetles of the

most recherche character, quite new to me, and therefore
great acquisitions to my collection. His own is the finest
and most orderly I have ever seen. Although I was at it
every morning by seven, I could only after all take what
consider as a most cursory glance, leaving innumerable
extraordinary forms of insect life altogether unexamined
He supposes himself to have about twenty-nine thousand

J ° bee7 “ te taS b0tl1 “«* and occasion-
ally varieties of each kind, you may suppose the amount of

240

CRUISES.

the sum tottal of the whole I went down for a day

to Lord Derby’s, and was ‘ awed, delighted, and amazed’
by the magnificence of his aviaries, and other natural
history collections. Many kinds of birds, such as the
sacred ibis of the ancient Egyptians, of which I had before
seen only single specimens preserved as great rarities in
museums, were running about my feet in half dozens like
common poultry, and the Japan peacock, which I was the
first to describe and figure some years ago from a stuffed
skin in Edinburgh Museum, was moving about in the
bright sunshine like a constellation almost too dazzling to
look upon. There are twenty men employed in taking care
of these creatures, and many travellers are engaged in
various quarters of the globe collecting them, so that the

expense must be enormous He wrote me a very

civil letter, and requested me to come to the house to see
the collection of stuffed birds, which is also one of the
finest in the kingdom. The halls, lobbies, corridors, rooms,
furniture, paintings, &c., seemed all as they ought to be for
an old chap who is said to have about <£*1 60,000 a year.
I believe Lord Stanley has no particular turn for these sort
of things, and so, when he comes to his kingdom, the
chances are the aviary, &c., will be dispersed.” *

* The magnificent collection of stuffed birds has been presented to
the town of Liverpool, and of itself forms a noble museum.

THE KYDAJJAN PATRIARCHS.

241

TO THE REV. JOHN SYM.

“ Thornt How, Oct. 2, 1849.

My dear Pastor, I am standing, or trying to stand,

“ " r°°m ^ “ SCOre of ‘™ks, parcels, packing boxes
and portmanteaus, and have scarcely a place for the sole

°, “y °0t We leave to-morrow morning. I have
a lost more to do (as usual with me of little things) than
can overtake, and yet I cannot help, ever and anon
going to door or window, and what pictures are all around
us . gorgeous autumn day, cool, clear, and tranquil is
Tightening the ■ pastoral melancholy ' of the green moun-
ts , , rSS; “d wood-

hg]lt °r Siade’ are-;t does not matter what, for
you have seen them. I passed a farewell hour yesterday
with he great poet of Kydal Mount, certainly the most
remarkable man, intellectually considered, alive in Britain
He is now in Ms eightieth year, and his wife and beloved

ytlMs S-adTanC6d ^ ^ ^-eno

y hfu scions growing up around them to support their

6 S I1’3' Was t0 me a ™-y affecting thing to
witness the great love of these three most aged peopfo for

eac, other how fresh their feelings of affection as if
only now for the first time gushimr fnrfn „ A .

by what are so often the chilling LuencesV ’ TZT,

e. To me this great love seemed beautiful exceeding

242

CRUISES.

and is surely among the highest and holiest gifts of God
to man.”

TO HIS DAUGHTER.

“ Woodville, 18<A Jan. 1850.

“ There is nothing going on here but frost and snow.
The window soul is covered by the bodies of birds, and
our outlay in moolins* is enormous. This morning
I sallied forth to feed the canaries, with a hatchet in one
hand, and a red-hot poker in the other. These weapons
were to enable me to break up or perforate the ice.
Sometimes it came out en masse, in other cases I required
to bore a hole, having previously heated a wimble. The
canaries usually bathe in the fresh cold water, the first
thing they do after the frozen saucer has been melted and
re-filled ; and this shews surely that their feet are warmer

than could have been exj)ected

“ Poor Mrs Chalmers died last night about half-past
nine,- in peace. I believe that they are an attached family,
will dwell together in unity, and derive great comfort and
consolation from many sources. "When I heard of the death,
I could not help turning back to page 291 of the life of
her great and good husband, where, in his thirty-second
year, and a few weeks before his marriage, he prays, ‘ 0
God, pour Thy best blessings on . Give her ardent

* Crumbs.

MRS CHALMERS.

243

and decided Christianity. May she be the blessing and
the joy of all around her ! May her light shine while she

t liveS' and when ste ^ may it proye to be a mere step,
a transition in her march to a joyful eternity ! ’ And now

(alas for us that it should be so !) their place knows them
no longer. If we require to write again, I will let you
know how the family continue; but I suppose you will
be bending your steps homewards soon.”

TO HIS DAUGHTER.

“ Lairg, Sutherlandshire,

2 6th May 1 850.

“ I presume this is likely to find you at Woodville, after
y denngs over many lands.

“On Thursday morning we started from this on an
exploratory yoyage to the head of Loch Shin, about twenty
miles from Lairg, and all the way by water. We took

only one man, known to as ‘ The Professor.’ He

was for some years a gentleman’s seryant in the south,
and speaks the highest English in the world. Gaelic is
1* mother tongue, but he won’t speak it before us

, ’e C“ Mp 14 ; and «>en I think he speaks
broken Gaelic, as if he had only picked up a few words

during a casual ‘tower’ in the Highlands. But we find

un a most handy, obliging person, for he not only rows

US ail day’ but sorts our tw”gs irr the evening, waits upon

244

CRUISES.

us assiduously at meal-time, and never tires in his attempts
to do us good. On the way up we each of us lent a help-
ing hand now and then with one of the oars, and I killed
a couple of ‘feroxes/ and the lads got some loch-trouts.
In .a basket there was a little whisky, two bottles of bitter
beer, a cold fowl, and a sensible-looking piece of boiled
beef ; also mustard, pepper, a few knives and forks, a loaf
of bread, tea and sugar, and a small pig — of butter. On
reaching Creanach, near the top of the loch, about six in
the evening, we lay upon our oars, and sent up the Pro-
fessor to the shepherd's hut to see how the land lay. He
soon returned with a toozy-headed tyke of a boy, whom
he had seized upon as under-waiter. He reported that
the shepherd himself was from home, but that Mrs ‘ Shep-
herd' would make us most welcome to whatever accom-
modation she had, if we would submit to it. So up we
sallied, the tyke’s head and shoulders being all hung over
with bags and fishing-baskets, and the chief-butler carry-
ing the provisions, plate, &c. The hut is a lowly, lonely
dwelling on the mountain side, not many hundred yards
from the water's edge. There is a little farm below it —
that is, a few acres reclaimed in some measure from the
moorland wilderness around — and a single tree stands in
a meadow, and looks very proud and imposing. Stooping
our lofty heads, we entered the hut, composed of a but
and a ben ; that is, of a kitchen kind of place on the left

shepheed’s cottage on loch shin.

245

hand, and a bettersome sort of room with a bed in it on
the right. The rough uneven floor was swept and sanded,
and a mce peat fire burning, and the smoke going well up
a built chimney, not common in such dwellings. I went
into the kitchen, shook hands with Mrs Shepherd, said I
was glad to see her looking so well, and patted the children
on the head. The children were decent-looking enough,
and although seven in number, none of them, except the
youthful valet, appeared to me to be much above three
} ears old. Two, if not three, were twins, and lay in a
corner of the kitchen, in the shape of irregular blue
bundles, terminated by a pair of pale washy-looking round
tilings, which I was told were their faces, though I can
scarcely believe it : one is so apt to be imposed on in this
world, as nobody knows so well as yourself. Retiring to
the other end of the hut, I found the butler emptying his
basket, laying his cloth, putting out his cold fowl and
beef— in short, making a regular spread. We had plenty
of trouts to fry, and soon set to, and made, you will be
happy to hear, a hearty meal. After toasting ourselves for
an hour or two by the fireside, we sallied forth to take a
cigar ‘ al fresco/ as we say in Gaelic, leaving the butler
and shepherdess to arrange affairs for the night. On
returning we found a sumptuous shake-down upon the floor,
composed of sacking filled with good dry hay, and covered
with both blankets and sheets, and a handsome gray plaid

246

CRUISES.

as a coverlet. I was voted into the single bed, while the
two younger members sank deliciously into the broad
shake-down, and slept, as I also did, very soundly till
the morning.

“Next day I killed two feroxes at the head of the loch,

the largest not more than five or six pounds. F had

on a much larger fish for a considerable time ; but although
he played well and carefully, and had him on the surface
several times, where he shewed a tail-fin like a salmon’s,
only bigger, the bait came out of his mouth, hooks and
all, and he sank with a sullen plunge into the dark pro-
found. This was a great disappointment to every one but
himself. I think he must have been a fish from ten to
twelve pounds.

“ That night we returned to Creanach, ate, drank, shooJc-
downed, and slept soundly as before. We arrived here
wet and weary on Saturday night. Colonel Hunter Blair
and Mr Little Gilmour were kindly waiting dinner for us,
which we took at a quarter to nine.”

TO MISS H. WILSON.

“ W oodville, 24 th July 1850.

“ Here we are all in our frail or dinar’, and not much
stirring. The shilfas appeared with some young ones a
while ago, and fly off with bread and butter to them some-
where among the trees, where we hear them chirping

BIRDS AND FLOWERS.

247

Once or twice I have seen them with little tufts of tow
upon their heads, but they generally keep themselves pretty
cunningly concealed. Jackie is well, and impudent, and
being much drenched with to-day’s wet foliage, has come
often into the house, and has once or twice made his way
to myself and table, where he arranges my notes, and turns
over all the new publications. The young pigeon is get-
ting large and fully fledged, and is spreading out its tail
like a peacock. I have ordered out pease instead of corn,
and this makes the sparrows very sulky, but is otherwise
a saving. The said pigeons all eat out of my hand, and
battle with each other between my feet. Jonathan has
bedded out a variety of half-grown fuschias and pelargo-
niums, just coming into flower, in the vacant space on each
side of the greenhouse door, which is a great improvement.
One likes to see him taking up such little jobs of his own
accord.

“ On your return you must go in to Millbank* and see
the Crassula coccineas, which are each as large as umbrellas,
and covered with flower from top to bottom. The garden
there is in excellent order throughout, but, like the Gran-
ton f one, it is not in pulling order, from the want of a
large supply of common things. Everything stands by
itseh, and is a separate thing, as if there was only one of

* The residence of Professor Syme.

f The abode of his brother-in-law, Sir John M 'Neill.

248

CRUISES.

it in the world, so that a nosegay is quite out of the ques-
tion. Our own useful blow of roses, honeysuckle, &c., is
coming to an end, although the Chinese and damasks will
give us an autumnal show. The gooseberries are ripening
fast, and are a larger crop than we have had for several
seasons. I shall retard them on your account as much as
I can ; but they will not keep for ever.

“ Jane Wordsworth* pays us a farewell visit to-day.

M has gone in for her, in spite of showery weather.

They will probably take the omnibus homewards at half-
past three.”

The last of Mr Wilson’s fishery voyages was in the
autumn of this same 1850. With a constitution not alto-
gether nautical, and with a liability to rheumatic and pul-
monary affections which the progress of the years did not
diminish, there was considerable self-denial in these expe-
ditions ; but his kind and patriotic motive enabled him to
set about them cheerily, and with but a slight degree of
self-deception he persuaded himself that they were pleasure
tours. As usual, he sought to enliven the home he had
left behind him by minute descriptive letters, and the copi-
ousness of such logs, often written in weariness and amidst
many difficulties, is very characteristic of his tender and
considerate nature. His old friend, Sir T. D. Lauder, was

* The poet’s granddaughter.

A DANGEEOUS PLAY-GKOUND.

249

gone ; but in the new Secretary of the Board, the Hon.
Bouverie E. Primrose, he hacl still an agreeable and intel-
ligent fellow-voyager.

TO MISS H, WILSON.

“ Fraserburgh Bay, litJi Sept. 1850.

“ We consumed some hours at Peterhead, examining
the harbour, and visiting a fishing-station of Lord Aber-
deen's, called Boddam. Some of the stations we had seen
the day before were very curious. At one of them, called
Dunies, I had climbed up the cliff to the little village above,
where the people were assembled to look down upon us,
probably expecting we should be wrecked in the boat while
entering their craggy creek. After gaining the high land
I made my way by a narrow ledge towards a cliff com-
manding a good sea view. In going along, I noticed a
bundle of rags and a bonnet near it, lying a foot or two
down the ledge, and just about to hang over the precipice.
As the rags moved a little, I stepped down a bit, stretched
out my arm, and found myself the parent of a living child.
Clapping the bonnet on its head, I hauled it back towards
the houses, where it was soon seized and shaken by its
grandmother, who never knew it had been out, but who, I
think, would never have seen it alive again if I had not
chanced to pass along the ledge from which it had rolled.

“ We passed most of yesterday (Priday) on shore at

250

CRUISES.

Fraserburgh, calling on the curers, and afterwards got a
land conveyance to take us to St Colm, Cairnburg, and
Inverallochy, all stations much in need of piers or little
harbours, there being frequent loss of life from want of
such convenience. We have taken careful notes of the
number of boats and men, and of the general character of
the coast, that we may afterwards report to the powers
that be, if any public grants of money are made, and their
distribution left to the Board, as was recently the case
with the <£6000 given to Lybster. I wish my ‘public
duties ’ had admitted of my using my rod, as there is a
good stream for sea-trout close to Fraserburgh, to fish
which I chanced to obtain leave some years ago from Mr
Gordon of Cairnburg.

“We lie very snug in the bay here. I am writing you
a line before breakfast, Mr Primrose having gone ashore
this morning (Saturday) for an hour or two to see some
people whom we missed yesterday. He is very active.
We get sooner to bed than in Sir Thomas Lauder’s time,
and this is better for us in the morning. After break-
fasting, we shall explore the stations on the south side of
the Moray Frith, probably taking the boat along shore,
and, when the day is down, cut across to Cromarty, where
we shall rest during the Sabbath.”

FOG AT SEA.

251

TO BIISS H. WILSON-.

f “ HAI.S. f Dasher/ Bat op Cromarty,

Thursday Morning, 19<A Sept. 1850.

• • • • Getting on board to dinner by half-past six on
Saturday, we made such way as we could to Cromarty
Bay for the night ; but were overtaken by so thick a mist
that we could not see the light-houses for our guidance,
and so had to slow our engines and proceed by soundings.
When proceeding rather fast at one time, those on the
look-out heard fearful bowlings in the mist, and soon
after a boat was seen just under our bows. A few seconds
more would have run her down; but the engine was
stopped in time, and the boat was picked up. There
weie a couple of hands on board, and a passenger, whom
they had been trying to take across the Moray Frith from
Cromarty to Nairn, when the mist came on and they lost
their reckoning, and they were going with wind and waves
they knew not where. They had left the northern shore
about seven in the evening, and it was about one in the
morning when we picked them up. The passenger was
half dead with cold and mist ; but rallied rapidly on being
regaled in the gun-room. We did not see him ourselves,
as it was dark when they were lugged on deck, and they
were dropped again off shore by day-light. We got into
Cromarty Bay in the course of the night— at least, I

252

CRUISES.

found myself there when I rose and looked around me
on the Sabbath morning.

“ I have here a curious kind of association with Thorny
How, which I find arises from my having written a chapter
of some kind or other about Cromarty, while there in 1 842,
for ‘The Voyage.’ We went ashore on Sunday soon
after breakfast, Mr Primrose volunteering to go with me
to the Free Church. But, on making inquiry, we found
there was Gaelic only in the mornings ; so we went, in the
first place, to the Established Church, and to the Free in
the afternoon. The latter has a very large congregation ;
in which, however, I was sorry to find there had recently
been a split— a minority, who were not ‘ edified ’ by the
person called, having swarmed off and built a churchlet of
their own.

“ On making my way from the church to the Dasher,
who should I meet but Hugh Miller, who sidled up, and
stood talking on one leg till I was obliged to go on board.
He has discovered some peculiar fossil beast among the
crags lately, and was looking wonderfully fresh and hearty.
I should have liked a few hours’ stroll with him here-
abouts very much ; but we have too many things on hand
at this advanced season, and — duty before pleasure.

“ On Monday morning, the 16th, we had to retrace our
course almost as far as Banff, where we had left off our
explorations on Saturday evening. (I may mention that

ME SHANKS OP BUCKIE.

253

the Dasher is again under weigh, and her engines thump-
ing the table like a bull. This is the chief disadvantage
of a steamer compared with the Princess Royal ; the
tremulous motion makes it very difficult to write.) We
carefully inspected Wkitehills, Portsoy, Sandend, Port
Knockie, Pindochtie, Port Essie, Buckie, Port Gordon,
Speymouth, Lossiemouth, Hopman, and Burghead. This
took us two days. On the Tuesday morning we went
ashore at Buckie, chiefly to see the Free Church clergy-
man, Mr Shanks, who takes a great interest in the fishiim
population, and has been extremely useful to them in
every way. Unfortunately, he was from home, and a
good many miles off; so we could only leave our cards.
His old housekeeper was like to cry, and implored us to
come back in the afternoon, as Mr Shanks would be so
much disappointed at missing ‘ the Government/ I sup-
pose she took us for Lord John Russell and Sir George
Grey at the very least. We find the man-of-war in the
offing, and the cut of the boat’s crew when we land, have
a gieat and beneficial effect. The coast-guard men are

always on the look-out when we go ashore, and aid us in
every way.

We were about ten hours each of these days in an
open boat, without meat or drink, under a broiling sun,
ever and anon jumping on jetties, jabbering to men,
women, and children, who gather and gape around us!

254

CRUISES.

evidently thinking that we are the wonderful wild beasts,
and not themselves. Then we have to climb up sand-
banks and rocky steeps, to visit the villages perched upon
their tops, and from which we obtain a good bird's-eye
view of the rocky creeks below. The f pursuit of herrings
under difficulties ' is really wonderful; and I feel every
day more and more convinced that a few thousand pounds
of public money could not be better bestowed than in
aiding these poor and industrious, though occasionally
wild and wayward people to overcome the natural dis-
advantages of their situation.

“ On Wednesday we examined the breakwater at Naim
— a work of the Board's. To get on it was by no means
easy. It consists of a lengthened p>ile of stones projecting
into the sea, and cased or boarded over with wood. We
thought there would be steps up it of some kind, but
there were not ; so, after reaching it in the boat, we had
to climb up by putting our claws and the points of our
toes into any little openings we could find here and there
between the timbers. It was rather difficult, but we got
up at last ; and had we fallen backwards into the sea, the
boat, which was hanging on as well as ourselves, could
easily have picked us up. Talking of picking up — I am
glad we were of some use to a fellow-creature about this
time. Just as we were leaving the Dasher, and our gig
was alongside, we saw a pilot boat, with three hands in it,

A KESCUE.

255

approaching a schooner which was making for Nairn
harbour, off which the Dasher had heaved-to. By some
accident the main-boom of the schooner struck the mast
of the pilot-boat, and upset her, throwing the three men
into the water. Two of them caught a rope thrown from
the schooner, and got into her; but the third drifted away
with the boat, of the keel of which he contrived to get
hold. But his position was most precarious; and had
our gig not instantly shot out like an arrow, there is no
doubt he would have been drowned. They were just in
time to get hold of him. They were unable to right the
boat, but took the exhausted man to the schooner, and
then carried us to our breakwater.” ....

TO MISS H. WILSON.

“H.M.S. Dasher, Scrabster Roads, Thurso,
Thursday Morning, 2 6th Sept. 1850.

“ On Monday we made a good run to Wick. Foreseeing
that business might detain us there possibly for more
than a day, we started off a man to Thurso to pick up
our letters and papers there. With these he returned to
us at Wick early on Tuesday morning, after walking to

and fro his forty miles and upwards. M 5s notes are a

great treat, and last an enormous time. I take them out
constantly when I have nothing else to do, and find a new

256

CRUISES.

meaning in almost every word. Several little enigmas
remain, and not a few delicious little bits that I would
not decipher for the world. They read just as distinctly
when turned upside down as any other way, and this is a
great advantage at sea in stormy weather. Indeed, I am
convinced we could never have got through the Pentland
Frith without them. I shall have a spell at them again
as soon as I can, and am determined never to give up the
pursuit of knowledge under difficulties.

“ On Tuesday the 24th we took the Dasher out of Wick
Bay, and, running southwards a bit, landed and inspected
various stations, such as Dunbeatli, Lybster, and Latheron-
wheel. Lybster is the place for which we got a govern-
ment grant of <£*6000, for deepening the harbour and
extending the pier, so that boats may run in even at low
water. They are getting on with their excavations, and
all concerned seem to regard the grant as an immense
boon. Nobody who has not examined the dreadful barrier
of rocky precipice which forms almost the entire coast
along this eastern shore, can conceive the danger which
boats run when seeking their little creeks with the wind
on shore. On the J 9th of August two years ago, more
than a hundred men were drowned, and many thousand
pounds of property in nets and boats destroyed, in conse-
quence of a sudden storm along the Caithness shore.
Such disasters can never be altogether prevented, but

A HAKBOUE OP KEFUGE.

257

there is no doubt that a low-water pier and place of

shelter in some central place will be the means of saving
life.

Yesterday the secretary had a good deal to do on
shore, and the wind not suiting for an exploration of the
creeks by boating, I made up my mind to trust myself to
a land gig, under the guidance of a fishing officer, and
drive ten or twelve miles along the southern coast, so as to
complete the exploration of the previous day. In this way
I carefully examined Occumster, Clyth, and Whallingoe.
The latter is the most extraordinary little harbour of refuge
I ever saw. It is nothing more than a horrible chasm
between two dreadful precipices, ending in-shore in another
precipice. But on one side a sort of zig-zag pathway has
been cut out of the rock, and leads down to a natural ledge
supporting a kind of rough causeway, which they call a
pier. Who they are I can scarcely say, for, on looking
down into the dark abyss, all I saw was the heaving water
and a few sea-gulls gliding over it far below me. They
were silvery bright in the sunshine, but seemed to suffer
a ghostly eclipse when they circled within the shadow of
the jaws of death. Leaving the fishing officer in his gig,
and perched quite as near the edge of the precipice as
suited either him or his horse, I made my own way down-
wards by the zig-zag staircase. The whole thing is very

curious and striking, both as a work of art and a piece of

E

258

CRUISES.

natural grandeur. There were no boats in, but, on de-
scending to the lowest ledge, I found a forlorn old gray-
beaded man, of a very wizard-like aspect, sitting among a
few herring barrels. A sort of twilight gloom pervades
the place even at noon-day. You look upwards between
two enormous precipices to a strip of sky, the contrast of
colours being marked and peculiar. The deep green sea
is at your feet, then upwards a depth of darkness, till the
eye catches the sunshine on the overhanging crags of one
side, the other being as black as pitch, and then above all
the bright blue sky seen as if from the bottom of a
dungeon from whence there could be no escape. However,
I did escape, though with a heaving chest, as I toiled my
upward way, lying down sometimes on my hands and
knees, both to rest exhausted nature and to enjoy a peep
over the rocky ledges at those extraordinary prison walls.”

TO HIS DAUGHTER.

“ Kyle Sku, in Sutherland,
Saturday, 28 th Sept. 1850.

“ I shall take it for granted that you have by this time
returned from Billholm, and are now once more at Wood-
ville. You have no idea what trouble my friends and I
have had with your letters — how we have turned them
upside down, and read them from the other side, holding

THUESO CASTLE.

259

them up to the candle. In the latter way your sentiments
really became quite transparent. However, there are
some little tid-bits of which the meaning is more than
doubtful still, though I am very sure that they have a
meaning both broad and deep.

“On Thursday afternoon we went ashore at Thurso,
and passed the evening with Sir George Sinclair and his
family at Thurso Castle. It is a nice, rather peculiar,
oddish-fashioned place, close upon the sea-beach, quite
treeless and unadorned, but pleasant though not picturesque
in fine weather, the Bay of Thurso looking like a lake
when the tide is in, and bringing the great sea-waters
close up under the windows. Sir George is extremely
kind and devoted to the poor and sick of the neighbour-
hood. A carnage came for us from the inn at a pretty
early hour, as we had to drive round the bay to what is
called Scrabster Hoads, where the steamers lay at anchor.
TV e had previously packed up all our traps, and shipped
them to the Lucifer, having taken leave of Captain Parks.
This we did with regret, for he lias been in every way
most kind, obliging, and attentive. He is a very pleasant-
looking person, quick and active.

“ The Lucifer is a much larger and more commodious
vessel, with a beautiful cabin as big as a small drawing-
room, finished off with solid mahogany doors, and excel-
lent state-rooms. She is commanded by a very gentle-

260

CKTJISES.

manly young officer of the name of Jackson, a nephew of
Mr White Melville.

“We left Scrabster Koads yesterday morning at an
early hour, steamed all along the southern coast of Suther-
land with a fresh wind and a favourable tide, both sea
and sky in great spirits, everything being so bright and
beautiful, from the sparkling spray below to the embattled
clouds above. So on we drove at a great rate, myself
standing chiefly on the paddle-box, and shewing off
greatly by naming all the headlands as we passed along,
to the great astonishment of the southern sailors, all of
whom, except a pilot, were new to the northern regions.

I dared not enter Loch Eribol to call on C M ,

who has shooting quarters and may still be there ; but
after rounding Cape Wrath we hugged the land for the
sake of smooth water, slipt along sweetly, and in good
time ran up to Kyle Sku, where we cast anchor, dined,
lay all night, and are now as snug as junipers.

“ It was at this place that the Princess Royal ran her
nose against the side of a hill in 1841, as duly recorded
in Wilson's ‘Voyage.’ Having been beat in my upward
passage on that occasion, I was the more anxious to com-
plete my exploration now, so to-day (Saturday) we took a
four- oared gig and started immediately after breakfast.
This narrow land-locked water where we now lie branches
off at its upper extremity into two distinct lochs, called

A CATARACT.

261

Glen Coni and Glen Dhu. We ascended the former,
which at its upper end is called Loch Beg. The scenery
is savage, — hard, sterile, rocky mountains all around, with
deep valleys between filled up by the waters of a some-
what sullen sea. We landed at the far-inland head of
Loch Beg, and after walking about a mile among craggy
mounds, peat hags, mosses, and monstrous stones lying
in most admired disorder here and there, we came to a
greener flat, a kind of ‘blind tarn/ encompassed on all
sides by barren mountains. But from a great, gray,
broken, precipitous front of one of these, without either
bank or birch-tree, but sheer over the mountain side, there
rolls a fine far-sounding cataract, which breaks among
projecting ledges into a thousand silvery streams. It is
one of the loftiest falls I ever saw, and gives a grand
finish to that rock-surrounded vale. By the by, while
sitting on a stone and pretending to be one, while ashore
this morning, a fine golden eagle flew over my head. He
never saw me, but soon perceiving Mr Primrose and Cap-
tain Jackson somewhat in advance, he soared suddenly
upwards, took two or three grand wheels just over the
cataract, and then disappeared.

I have already mentioned that the Lucifer is a much
finer and more commodious vessel than the Dasher. She
has fifty-three hands on board, besides the commander and
his officers, surgeon, &c. The only thing I miss here,

262

CRUISES.

compared with the Dasher, is the trumpeter, who played
‘God Save the Queen’ and ‘Rule Britannia’ every morn-
ing at eight and every evening at six. This sounded sweet
upon the wild and lonesome waters. I have nearly worn
the front of my hat off with returning salutes. I can’t go
ashore for a minute to look at the smallest piece of fish-
guts and return again without the marines on deck
grounding arms, and sundry other salutations being gone
through. If some little barefoot opens the door to me
when I get back, I shall see a difference. Still home is
home, though not upon the deep.”

“ Kyle Sktj, Sunday.

“ By way of a variety, we had a good deal of thunder
and lightning during the night, some very heavy showers
both of rain and hail, with the wind howling so loud that
I am sure it must have a sore throat by this time. The
weather is still very gusty, and we shall probably not
leave the ship, both because it is windy and the day is
Sunday. We have just had morning prayers read by the
captain, the whole ship’s company being assembled between
decks, the men in very trim attire, having been previously
mustered in divisions, and inspected on deck, the officers
all in full fig, with their gold-laced caps and epaulettes.
The service was very interesting, and the Liturgy puts it
in the power of a commander to keep holy the Sabbath-

SABBATH OH SHIP-BOARD.

263

clay more effectively than could be clone in our way, with-
out an officiating minister. We are now settled again in
the cabin quietly at our books, of which there are several
very good ones on board, and so I shall not set a bad
example by any longer continuing my Sunday log. I
hope we may be able to cat across to Stornoway to-
morrow ; but the strong south-west wind which still pre-
vails, and the consequent sea upon the Minch, may very
possibly debar our running out.”

TO HIS DAUGHTER.

“ Oban, Friday, Oct. 4, 1850.

“We lay very snugly at Kyle Sku for a couple of
days. While writing there in the cabin we had a heavy
fall of rain and hail, which almost darkened our day-
lights , and it was a curious coincidence that, in turning
over some papers in my desk during that portentous
interval, I fell upon an unanswered note from Professor
fho Astronomer Poyal, in which, respecting his pro-
gress through Sutherland, he says, ‘ In crossing from Kyle
Sku to Loch Inver we had a storm of wind and rain far
surpassing in its kind anything that I had ever seen.’
“After a quiet Sunday night we left Kyle Sku early
on Monday, and made a successful run to Stornoway.
Amongst other estates, Mr Matheson, who lately returned
from the east, has bought this great island of Lews,

264

CRUISES.

about sixty miles long, and containing seventeen thou-
sand tenants, great and small. The kindness and hos-
pitality of both Mr and Mrs Matheson are overflowing,
if not unexampled. When we called, they would not
hear of our not dining and spending the remainder of
the day with them; and when they heard that Mr
Primrose and I had to visit a fishing station near the
Butt, or north end of the island, they insisted on our
bringing our things ashore with us at dinner-time, that
we might sleep all night at the castle, and start more
comfortably next morning. Meanwhile, Mr Matheson
arranged that the factor should accompany us to the
station in question, which we afterwards found to be
an immense advantage, as he knew all the places, and
could speak all the languages of the Lews.

/ The castle is a very imposing pile, built just above
the village or town of Stornoway, and, when viewed from
the sea, seeming to overrule it in a very lordly way. It
occupies the exact site of Seaforth Lodge, the more
humble dwelling of the now extinct chiefs of the clan
Mackenzie, who bore the title of Lord Seaforth. You walk
under an arched portico, leading into a handsome entrance-
hall, and this hall is continued almost all through the
interior of the castle, from end to end, in the form of a
lengthened and lofty corridor, from one side of which
branch off the various public rooms. We were led from

STORNOWAY CASTLE.

2G5

one middle-sized drawing-room, very handsomely fur-
nished, into another smaller one, a kind of snuggery or
parlour, where we found Mr Matheson at a desk-table
writing, and his wife not far off with a book in her
hand.

“ TV e got back to the castle at half-past seven, the
dinner hour, and found that a number of people had
been assembled to meet us. Most of them must have

been summoned since two o’clock of that same day

Then we had Lord Campbell, the Chief- Justice of England,
and his daughter, and Mr Scarlett, a son of Lord Abino-er
These were staying at the castle. I was next Lord
Campbell when the ladies retired, and found him veiy
pleasant and courteous. He was so obliging as to praise
the ‘Voyage/ and said he had just been reading, with
great interest, the account of St Hilda. Meanwhile, the
piper in full array was blowing his very life out in the
corridor. He was asked ere long into the room, and
entered in tremendous puff playing ‘ The Campbells are
coming,’ which was thought very clever and appropriate,

chiefly, I suppose, because the said Campbells were just
going away.

“ On the morning of Tuesday the 1st of October, we
were down stairs soon after six, found all kinds of tea
and coffee, breads and venison chops, ready for us hot
and hot ; and in a very few minutes after we had set to.

266

CRUISES.

under the auspices of the factor, Mr Matheson appeared
to see that all was right. He accompanied us to the por-
tico, where we embarked in a handsome double-seated dog-
cart with a couple of gallant grays, driven by the factor,
a little groom accompanying us to take care of the beasts
during our inspections. I heard Mr Matheson at break-
fast time desiring the butler to fill the sandwich box, and
put it with some old sherry in the dog-cart. This was
very right !

“ We started, and drove for several hours over, it must
be confessed, a most bleak and barren country, not a tree
to be seen, neither rock nor mountain — nothing but
black moorland, with here and there some long thin grass
whistling in the wind, or a forlorn patch of oats or barley
seeking a precarious existence from the spongy soil. Even
the blooming heather, which elsewhere so often throws its
purple splendour over the mountain wilderness, seems dry
and shrivelled. But on nearing the northern extremity of
the island, we came upon a good deal of improved land,
and there is no doubt Mr M. will ere long effect a consi-
derable change. Most of the huts are like the ancient St
Kilda ones, or worse ; but he is rebuilding many of them,
and forcing the people to be comfortable. After driving
about twenty miles over the wilderness, we came to a snug
farm-house with stacks of hay and corn, enclosures of turnips
and potatoes, and fields of grass and clover. We here took

DOCKS INSTEAD OP OSIEES.

267

the farmer's ponies, leaving our own couple to recover from
the process of perspiration, and drove seven or eight miles
further on, crossing the base of the Butt, and visiting Cal-
ligol and other fishing creeks and stations. The people
scarcely speak English, so without the factor we should
have made little and unproductive progress. I may men-
tion, as a proof of the rarity of shrubs here, that the people
never cut the dockens, but let them grow as tall as pos-
sible. You see them everywhere, like little brown poplars
among the stubble, after the plots of barley have been
shorn. At a certain time they pull them up, twist them
about in some way, and eventually make them into baskets
to carry bait, &c., to the fishing. It was when we were
lunching on venison sandwiches, and taking them out of a
beautiful basket with a flap over it, all made of beautifully
plaited cane-work, that the factor overheard one of the
lookers-on say in Gaelic, f Eh, what grand dockens they
mun hae in their country ! ’ We got back to the farm-house
about four. There we found our horses at their hay and
corn, and we had not sat two minutes in a neat parlour,
with a table-cloth ready laid, and white as snow, when in
came a large tureen of sumptuous barley-broth, two large
dishes of potatoes, a beautiful little leg of roasted mutton,
a neat plate of sliced cold beef, and two fowls nicely roasted.
These we immediately consumed, took one turn of whisky-
toddy, ordered our gallant grays, shook hands with the

2G8

CRUISES.

farmer and his wife, and departed, having still some rocky
havens to explore before dark. In fact, the sun had
actually set before we reached the last one, and it was
rather disagreeable, and not a little dangerous, to be crawl-
ing over slimy dulse and tangle, among tremendous big
stones, with pools of clear sea-water between them, pre-
tending in the twilight to be only sand. The most ‘ dis-
gusting’ part of it, as you would say, was passing from
one rock to another over a fresh-water run, by means of a
narrow plank not quite firm at one end, and really not
broader than this note paper. I had to put my feet across
it, walk sideways inch by inch, and was very nearly down
once or twice before I was over. However, we all did it
at last, both going and returning. It was nearly pitch
dark, as it had become very cloudy, before we got back to
the highway, where we had left the carriage, and where a
couple of nice bright lamps had in the meantime been
lighted. There was a large village at this place, the houses
being much fuller than usual in consequence of groups of
people returning from the communion and the after preach-
ing. We looked into one or two of the houses, which
were filled with smoke and wild precarious-looking people,
with dingy complexions and tangled locks. We could
scarcely see them, except that now and then an arm and
shoulder were protruded through the dim atmosphere, and
plunged into a large trough full of potatoes standing near

EVENING MEAL.

269

the fire, a large, deep, red, flameless peat one, placed in the
middle of the floor. The room was rather spacious, and by-
degrees you could make out various forms of men, women,
and children in the dingy distance. They are said to be
very kind to each other, and certainly on this occasion the
supply of potatoes seemed ample. They had been emptied
from the boiler into a large trough, into which the children
of the mist ever and anon extended their tarry paws. At
one time, I foimd somebody poking me between the side
and arm, and on turning round I found it was only a cow
wanting its accustomed share of the peat-fire, and to attain
this object it was very gently boring me with its left horn.
Several other cows, I afterwards found, by treading on
their tails and toes, were lying about the room, there being
heie no invidious distinction between the housing of man
and beast.

“ About nine at night we came to a kind of farm-house,
near a lonely creek by the sea-shore, called Dalbeg, and
there we turned in. The gudewife made a thousand
apologies for want of preparation, but she soon produced
tea, trouts, honey, biscuits, scones, and oat-cakes. These
we despatched. On looking out, the sky seemed on fire,
as if the sun had come back again with a blue eye, after
kicking up a row in the west country. It was the aurora
in great magnificence. I went out for half an hour to
enjoy it and a cigar, and then returning, Mr P and I

270

CRUISES.

mounted a little staircase, entered a little bed-room with
a large fire, and two neat little box beds, very white and
clean. Into them we turned and fell asleep. In the
middle of the night I gave the board between me and Mr

P ’s head a violent kick, making him roar out, ‘ Halloo !

what’s that ? ’ I said nothing, as it could not be me, though
it might have been my heels ; and next morning, when I
asked him if he had heard a very curious noise in the
night-time, he said, No, and that he had never slept
sounder in his life.

“We left Dalbeg at six in the morning of Wednesday
(Oct. 2d), and took a stage to Loch Eoag before break-
fast. We there fared sumptuously, and starting again
over • a wild country full of lochs, reached Stornoway
at noon. As had been agreed, a four-oared boat was
waiting for us ; the commander was on the look-out ;
and Mr Matheson came down to the quay to bid us
good-bye. We had posted nearly eighty miles since the
preceding morning, had been fed and housed, and had
nothing to pay for anything. It is a good country yon to
travel in. Just as we were taking our departure, Mrs
Matheson sent us a haunch of venison, four brace of
grouse, and as many vegetables as will serve ourselves
and the ship’s company, about fifty in number, for several
days.”

THE FALLEN BEECH-TREE.

271

Of this year the record may be fitly closed by the fol-
lowing letter to his young friend, Miss Taylor : —

“ Woodville, 22 d October 1850.

f I am glad now that you did not pay us a visit last
summer, because by this time it would have been over,
and you might have found it so tiresome as to have never
renewed it, and so we would have parted perhaps for ever

a thought too mournful to be indulged in during a me-
lancholy autumn-day, when all I see before me is a jack-
daw moping over some withered leaves. But next summer
is still to come. I shall be another year down hill, you
another year up. The woods of Killiecrankie will probably
be much the same as they have been for several seasons,
natuie being rather a renewable kind of thing, in spite of
floods, hurricanes, and earthquakes. By the by, a friend
of mine was passing through Killiecrankie several months
ago, on the top of Her Majesty’s mail, when an enormous
beech-tree, which had been long declining from the hill-
side, gave way in a moment, and came down upon the
load head-foremost with such a crash as had not been
heard in that country for a thousand years. It took several
woodmen several hours to clear a path for man and beast;
and tliere is now a piece of bright blue sky looking down
upon the brightened verdure of a mossy glade, where for-
merly the roe- deer Plight have screened themselves alike

272

CRUISES.

from summer’s heat and winter’s snow. Now, suppose
you had actually come to Scotland last summer, and that
your mother had been sketching that very tree at that
very moment, the consequences are more easily imagined
than described. So let us be thankful for the past, and
look forward hopefully to the future.

“ The meeting of the British Association came on and
went off as usual, and occupied our time and thoughts so
far. I believe it was a good meeting. At all events the
weather was splendid, and kept the philosophers, who
sometimes lose their tempers like weaker people, in great
good humour ; and there were lots of dinners going, good
and bad. I was delighted to see my old friend Sir John
Eichardson looking so well. Professor Airy was going
to Sutherland ; so I gave him an unpublished map for his
guidance, and such personal directions as I considered
useful. When his tour was ended, he wrote to me from
Inverness, with thanks for my map and information —
adding, that three things had greatly struck him in that
northern country: 1st, the extraordinary kindness of the
people; 2dly, the wildness and majesty of the scenery,
‘ elsewhere unequalled 3dly, ‘ the ferocity of the weather;’
and then he describes the water-spouts and storms of hail
which beset him and his wife as they proceeded in their
dog-cart over the wilderness.”

CHAPTEE VIII.

% Srawnms anir Minins.

“ 0 how canst thou renounce the boundless store
Of charms which Nature to her votary yields !

The warbling woodland, the resounding shore.

The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields;

All that the genial ray of morning gilds,

And all that echoes to the song of even,

All that the mountain’s sheltering bosom shields.

And all the dread magnificence of Heaven,

0 how canst thou renoimce and hope to be forgiven ! ”

Beattie.

"While other men’s minds seemed closing up, his (Mr Roberts’s, the
biographer of Hannah More) day by day unclosed to the charming
details of natural history. Very appropriately might the words of
Leighton, often, quoted by him, be applied to his enjoyments of the
objects of creation, that ‘seeing and tasting God in them, he had a
supernatural delight in natural things.’ ”

.

- i

•

X

At an early period of Ms life Mr Wilson felt depressed by
tlie want of a vocation. He bad quitted the writer’s office
without any intention of following out the law; and, with
broken health, and no profession, it almost looked as if
existence would pass idly and ingloriously away. But,
by cultivating those tastes and affinities with which the
Author of Ms being had endowed him, he soon created a
caliing for himself. So ample and so practical was Ms
acquaintance with all departments of natural history, and
so notorious were his obligingness and courtesy, that he
was resorted to by young and old of his countrymen in
quest of information; whilst, like Broderip and Buckland,
the fascination of his picturesque and sprightly pen
attracted multitudes of readers, who cared nothing for
zoology, and who (as he himself would have said) could
scarcely distinguish a bee from a bison. The consequence
was that, as already mentioned, his occupations increased
from year to year ; and, probably, no period was so busy
or so happy as that closing lustrum of wMch we are now
to give some account. Much of his time was generously

276

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

devoted to questions of great economical importance, such
as the artificial breeding of salmon, and the encourage-
ment and right regulation of the cod and herring fisheries.
When vacancies occurred in Scottish professorships of
natural science, he was involved in extensive correspond-
ence, both as the friend of so many men of science, and
as one in whose judgment and impartiality the patrons
had confidence ; and the business of the Royal Society of
Edinburgh, superadded to the duties of his eldership, and
attendance on sundry committees, often left him scant
leisure for those literary engagements which multiplied
upon him as one of the most popular expounders of a
popular science.

Of his winter work and summer recreations some hints
will be found in the following extracts from his corre-
spondence : —

TO MISS TAYLOR.

“ Woodville, Edinburgh, 18 th June 1851.

“ I had great pleasure in hearing of you t’other day,
through your note to Marianne, which was kindly sent,
with other domestic despatches, to Luib, in the central
Highlands of Perthshire, about seven miles beyond Killin.
My brother the Professor had been unwell throughout
the spring; and having been advised a change of air, he
refused to take it unless a family party was made to

THE PROFESSOR'S FAMILY PARTY.

277

accompany liim. So Henrietta and myself, and his
daughter, Mrs Sheriff Gordon, agreed to go. He after-
wards wrote to his daughter, Mrs Terrier, and her hus-
" band, to both his sons, and to Mr Glassford Bell and his
daughter; and so the small select family swelled into a
much larger one than was expected. We went by Glas-
gow, and then steamed up Loch Lomond to a station at the
head of that loch called Inverarnan; from whence, by Glen
Talloch, we drove through a grand wild Highland country,
some fourteen miles, to Luib, on the banks of the Dochart.
The absurd part of it was, and for a time worse than
absurd, that the Professor’s carpet-bag, containing all his
clothes, all his money, and all his fishing-tackle, had been
taken out of the railway van by mistake somewhere be-
tween Edinburgh and Glasgow; so the first night in Glas-
gow was one of discontent. We telegraphed for the bag
in vain next morning— there was no word of it. The
Professor was with difficulty persuaded to go with us as
far as the head of Loch Lomond, Sheriff Bell offering to
go that length and return with him to Glasgow. This
they did; and the bag being eventually recovered, my
brother joined us at Luib in a day or two. But for a
time I was in the heart of the Highlands, apparently for
no purpose, having left home at some inconvenience to
myself for the sake of another person, that person, mean-
while, not being one of the party at all We had broken

278 THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

weather on the whole, and one or two cold and stormy
days which covered all the summits of the great moun-
tains with snow, and accorded well enough with the deso-
late grandeur of the district, hut scarcely suited peram-
bulation on the part of the ladies, or even of elderly
gentlemen, like certain of the party. However, the thing
went off well. There was some enjoyment out of doors,
and a good deal of idle fun and cheerfulness within. We
found char in Loch Dochart of which I was not pre-
viously aware. Caught lots of trout, and a couple of
salmon weighing about forty-five pounds the two. Either
of them would have pulled a Westmoreland angler into
the water —

‘ Poor is the triumph, o’er the timid parr.’

Henrietta and I walked one day down to Killin and back,
and explored the beauties, which are great and manifold,
of the head of Loch Tay. We returned as we went, via
Loch Lomond, &c. I think my brother better on the
whole; but when in town he scarcely ever leaves the
house, and this confinement is bad for him. There are
several suburban places close at hand in the occupation
of members of his own family, where he would be welcome ;

but he will not move. Your men of genius are not always

.

reasonable creatures in their everyday doings; and there
would be little harm in this, if they would allow them-

SCANDINAVIAN TOUEISTS.

279

selves to be guided by the weaker vessels. But they are
often very obstiuate iu their perversities, and won’t £ take
a bidding.’ I should apologise for boring you with all
t this ; but one naturally writes about what is uppermost in
mind.

“ The Rev. Edward Jefferies leaves Grasmere for Sweden
and Norway early in July. There is a kind of Scandi-
navian fever in the country this year, in spite of the
glittering splendours of the Crystal Palace. At least, a
good many people whom I know are going to the far
North. Professor Forbes was with me yesterday, wishing
me to start with him in a few days to Hull, and from
thence by steam-packet to Christiania. The coast scenery,
at all events, is now very accessible, as a Norwegian
steamer goes close along shore every week or two from
Christiansand as far north as Hammerfest, near the North
Cape, where one may see the sun at midnight. The
funny thing is, that in that country you will not see the
sun at all in the day-time for a while, as the eclipse is
total there. This is what takes a good many of our phi-
losophers away from their wives and families; but Pro-
fessor Forbes is desirous also to extend his knowledge of
the ice- world, already great, by exploring the Scandinavian
glaciers, and the grooves upon the surface of the rocks.
Asthma and increase of years, laziness, rheumatism, and
decrease of cash, debar my going so far from home;

280

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

although I confess I still cherish the hope of finding my-
self screened from the * garish eye of night ’ within the
sombre shadows of a northern fiord.”

Like all the world he went to London in the summer of
1851, and enjoyed it all the more that it was a sight-seeing
visit, complicated by no business. To his quiet observant
eye there was in London a boundless treat ; but in lieu of
his own record, which on this occasion was very brief, we
may give the following reminiscences which have been
kindly communicated by his ardent admirer and quondam
fellow-townsman, Adam White, Esq. : — •

“ Whenever Mr Wilson came to town he called on me.
After Museum hours, I met him, and we had two or three
rare runs between the hours of four and ten. On one
occasion, when he was staying at Craven Street Hotel, I
dined with him, and then took the boat from Hungerford
Stairs to Greenwich. He was a delightful companion ;
but for a time he listened to me as I pointed out one object
after another, from distant Lambeth with its Lollard
tower, and old Lambeth Church, with Tradescant’s tomb,
dear to naturalists, in its churchyard, to the Temple Gar-
dens, and the crowded city churches, Ptomaine’s among the
rest, not very conspicuous as we sail under Blackf liars’
Bridge, and Barham’s, whose facetious fun and sparkling

ME WHITE’S RECOLLECTIONS.

2S1

equivoque in ‘ Ingoldsby ’ were well known to the brother
of Christopher North ; on past the Tower, with its gray
oyster-plastered bastions, and through the Pool with its
mazy life of ships, down to Greenwich with its noble hos-
pital and still more noble park. He was a delightful
talker. This evening his subjects were, Dunrobin Castle
and the Duchess ; trout and salmon-fishing in Sutherland
with Dr Greville, J. P. Selby, and Sir William Jardine,
three Christian gentlemen like himself, and amongst his
oldest and staunchest friends; and Doctors Neill and
Pleming, and the Edinburgh naturalists. We got on the
subject of James Hogg and William Wordsworth, and I
lamented that Christopher North had never written Hogg’s
biography, for it was advertised. Great man as Words-
worth was, he did not believe in biography — a striking
proof this of his originality. Shakspeare and Milton, and
many other great men, are known by the biography breath-
ing in their works. W ordsworth wished no other memorial,
and, excepting Paxton Hood’s enthusiastic tribute, and the
unsatisfying volumes of his nephew, it would seem as if
the poet were only to be made known by his works. But
from Mr Wilson s remarks, I could see that he was disap-
pointed that the brother bard, who used to live at Elleray,
and Avho was the first to praise in Blackwood and in all
companies Wordsworth’s poetry, at a time when Jeffrey
and other critics were doing their best to run it down,

282

TIIE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

had not been asked to write the life of the Rydalian
laureate.

“ Another ramble was to Highgate and Hampstead.
Much delighted was he to see Mr Gillman’s house, now
occupied by that good surgeon and kind man, Mr Brendon.
He viewed with interest the scenes where Coleridge used
to meditate and pour out the treasures of his gifted mind
— the library, with its shelves now removed — the room
where he usually received visitors, on one day Sir Hum-
phrey Davy, on another Basil Montagu, or Edward Irving
and Thomas Chalmers, perhaps Thomas Carlyle — the beau-
tifully sloping garden, with its northern wall one mass of
flowering shrubs, and where might be heard the nightin-
gales as they sang in the trees near Ken Wood. With all
this he was delighted, and I remember how he never
deposited in the passage that unfailing stick, but took it
with him from room to room. We left, and crossed the
fields to Hampstead — those fields where John Linnell, the
Poussin of our day, used to study, when Blake used to visit
him thirty years ago ; and after a view of Harrow from
the Heath, we were glad to get home to Kentish Town
in time for a hearty dinner-tea.

“ One other excursion I remember, when we went into
the City, first visiting most of Dr Johnson’s resorts. His
staircase in the Temple then stood, and we went into ‘ The
Mitre’ and got a glass of ale, sitting in the identical angu-

LIONS OF LONDON.

283

lar recess, so cribbed and small, where he and Boswell
enjoyed their talk eighty years ago or more. Each court
of interest in Fleet Street we visited, including that one
(Crane Court) where, in Sir Isaac’s days, the Royal Society
met, and where the Scottish Corporation now transacts its
business. We looked into the narrow lane nearly opposite
Newgate, where Goldsmith wrote the ‘ Vicar of Wakefield,’
glanced at the scene of the Cock Lane ghost, and stood
where the martyrs suffered near St Bartholomew’s. We
finished off our peregrinations by a visit to the curious
courts and involved streets among which, almost buried,
stands the old Dutch Church in Austin Friars, with its
Gothic windows, sunk porch, and sun-dial, and its church-
yard, where we found flourishing a fig-tree and limes, that
looked fresh and delightful amidst the bricks and dust of
London. No wonder that Charles Lamb loved London.
Who loves it not that knows it ?

" He had a pleasant face, and an eye of extreme hu-
mour, though gentle withal. Although remarkably alive
to the ridiculous, or rather to the funny aspect of things
and occurrences, he was the reverse of cynical. His kind-
ness was a natural gift, welling through the glasses of his
golden spectacles evermore, attracting good-will and dis-
arming controversy ; and every one came in for a share.
Among the last times I saw him was at his lodging in
Bloomsbury Street, as he and his niece were starting for

284j

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

tlie terminus in Euston Square. The servant handed
something into the cab : he had already given her a little
present of money; and he now shook hands with her,
saying, ‘Good-bye, Mary. I thank you much for your
kind attention/ That was so natural to the man. His
rule was, ‘ Do unto others as ye would that they should
do unto you ; ’ and from his Master he had learned to be
meek, and to condescend to those of low estate.”

To the London journey of the “Exhibition year” re-
ference is made in the commencement of the following

O

letter : —

TO MISS TAYLOR.

“ Woodyille, 22 d August 1851.

“ What a multitude of foreigners there were in London !
You who have the gift of tongues might have been well
and usefully employed ; but it was alarming work with
others less gifted to be attacked on all sides, in palaces
and picture-galleries, gardens and omnibusses, by people
of unknown speech, ‘ dwellers in Mesopotamia/ and I
know not where. But we were greatly delighted with
our visit, which, however, was far too short for anything
but the most superficial survey. I am glad you liked the
Professor’s picture by Watson Gordon. I think it is
excellent ; but there was a still better hanging near it, the

POETEAITS.

285

portrait of a strong-featured, silvery-headed old man, one
Dr Wardlaw, of Glasgow, by a west-country artist of the
name of Macnee. I thought it the best portrait in the
Academy Exhibition. I am happy to say that (like your-
self) her most gracious Majesty the Queen was attracted
by the Professor's picture ; and a person, who necessarily
knew, informed me that, on leaving the Academy one
day, she said, ‘ I must just have one other look at my dear
old man/ The said old man, I regret to say, does not
seem to be gaining strength with the advance of the
season; and, I confess, I am somewhat apprehensive of
the effect which the anxiety and fatigue connected with
the labours of his class may produce next winter. Mean-
while, he is in the south of Scotland with his eldest son,
who has a farm and pleasant habitation by the banks of
the Esk, some nine miles from Langholm, in the Border
country.

“ By the by, I am not answering your letter at all. I
never do answer letters, and hope this will be an addi-
tional reason for your writing them. I think somebody
mentioned that Derwent Coleridge had been down in
Westmoreland, and was staying for a time at the Knab.
He seems to have taken a long time to think about it —
having, if I remember rightly, been some fifteen years
without seeing his poor brother. But perhaps he knew,
or at least believed, his case to be hopeless. I have not

286

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

myself seen the said Derwent for more than forty years, so
I daresay there would not be much reminiscence between
us. Yet I remember the last day I saw him as distinctly
as I do yesterday. He was standing before the kitchen
fire at Elleray, with bare feet upon a sandy floor, and hold-
ing a pair of wet worsted stockings close upon the grate,
the said stockings sending up a cloud of steam, which he
called performing a chemical experiment. I thought these
words very fine, though I scarcely knew what they meant.
Poor Hartley meanwhile went mouthing about, swinging
his arms to and fro, and muttering to himself I know not
what, but certainly quite unconscious whether his stockings
were wet or dry.

“ You expected, from what you heard, to be disappointed
in Wordsworth’s 'Life/ I suppose it is a hard thing for
a man who is not himself a poet to write the life of one
who is ; that is, if his doing so involved the necessity of
his unfolding the inner life of one whose soul was c like a
star that dwelt apart/ Yet I think there is no harm in
our having a connected narrative of the ordinary ongoings
of the poet’s life, by a kindly disposed relative, who had ac-
cess to an accurate knowledge of dates, localities, and other
minor matters of detail. I expected nothing more than
this, did not in fact desire anything more, and so have not
been disappointed. The most curious thing about the book
is, that it makes no mention whatever of the only critical

woedswoeth’s biogeaphy.

287

essays on the poems of Wordsworth which were influen-
tial on the public mind, of any value in themselves, or of
any service to the poet. If the biographer neither knew
where to find the current literature which bore upon the
poet s works, or how to refer to it when found, then, as
the Americans say, he ought to. It is curious, too, that
not satisfied with knowing that the name of Wordsworth
is now one of the most illustrious in our country, and
must continue so till English is an unknown tongue, he
goes into all the drivel about the ancestry, and the old
wooden Press. It was interesting enough to hear the old
man himself talk even of such things as these, knowing,
as we did, how he at other times communed with nature,
and forgot his ancestors; but how a highly-educated
gentleman like the nephew, brought up in rather a high
position from his youth, and now occupying an influential
and honourable station, and with a just appreciation of
the now immortal memory of his great kinsman, should
have troubled himself with so much twaddle, is incompre-
hensible. I would as soon have expected a party of noble
sportsmen, pursuing the king of beasts, ‘the armed rhi-
noceros, or the Hyrcean tiger,’ to have turned aside to
disinter a mole. The conclusion I draw from the im-
portance attached to this affair of the Films fiUi filii is,
that in reality the Wordsworths never had any ancestors.
But let them now take care of themselves for a hundred

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THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

years or two, and then look back, and they will see a name
of which they may well be proud.

“ I partly agree in what you say as to your personal
acquaintance with the poet not having deepened your
realisation of the poet's mind. I had always great plea-
sure from my own personal intercourse with him, but
it was not on account of his personal attributes, or even
for the sake of any intellectual excellence then exhibited,
but because I knew him to be the medium through which
his Creator had willed that so many pure and elevating
thoughts should be conveyed to the minds of meaner mor-
tals by his writings. I think him a transcendent poet,
not of the very highest class (Homer, Dante, Shakspeare,
Milton, he may not sit with), yet altogether unequalled in
our day and generation ; but as regards general intellectual
energy and power, force of character, range of knowledge,
and other attributes which raise one man above another,
I have known many his superiors. I daresay he lived too
much alone for the cultivation or increase of those more
discursive (I mean conversational) faculties to which I
have referred, and with no one ‘ near the throne ; ’ and it
is a bad thing, intellectually as well as otherwise, for any
man to have everything his own way. On the other hand,
we owe the rich treasures which he has left behind mainly
to the contemplations of his solitude, and should be thank-
ful for the same. There is no doubt that he was a great

THE TEOSSACHS.

289

proser. It is equally certain, and more consolatory, that
he was likewise a great j3oet.”

Towards the end of autumn he took a little trip to the
Trossachs, having for his fellow-traveller his dear relative
and pastor, the Eev. John Sym.

“ 31s( October 1851.

On leaving Stirling, and turning our faces towards
the mountains, our prospects were fearful in the extreme.
We found plenty of droskies at the station, and got into
one instanter, giving the word, ‘ To Callander/ The rain
soon came down like a deluge, and we could see nothing
befoie us but a miserable ‘drookit5 driver, and a few
yards of miry road, and on either side disconsolate hedges
and damp rheumatic-looking turnips. We rubbed the
panes now and then with our handkerchiefs, tried to look
out at a pea-stack occasionally, and even got up a hollow,
hoi rid sort of laugh at times, as if rejoicing in our dread-
ful doom. At Callander we changed horse and carriage,
waiting only long enough for me to leave a hazel stick
(from Ambleside) in the parlour window. By four o’clock,
when we got to the Trossachs5 Inn, although there were
violent gusts of cold sleety rain and wind, the air was
much clearer. Ben Venue looked very imposing, with
mists and showers passing rapidly along, and now and

T

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THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

then a kind of ghastly gleam, that those who did not know
better might have taken for sunshine.

“ The new inn is a most extraordinary concern, more
like a penitentiary, or place of punishment for evil-doers,
than one of entertainment for either man or beast. It
consists chiefly of turrets, and you are ushered into a little
circular cell, with several windows pierced in different
directions, but each window like a slit in Bridewell, being
only a single narrow pane in breadth, and three panes in
height. When you sit in the middle of your cell you
actually see nothing but your prison walls, and three or
four narrow streaks of light. However, when you rise,
and put your face quite into one of the windows, the
effect is rather striking, especially that from the western
slit. You have, as it were, set in a dark framework, a

view of a finely broken portion of the Trossachs, a small

x, /

gleaming portion of Loch Achray, and almost the whole of
Ben Venue, with its great rocks, rugged pastures, and
gloomy hollows.

“ Soon after four the rain ceased altogether, and having
ordered dinner, we sallied out for an hour and a half, and
had a very grand though gloomy yiew of our old walk
through the Trossachs. The woods were in fine autumnal
order, and almost glowing, though unilluminated by any
western splendour. I think the sun must have gone over

THE COAT OE MANY COLOUES.

291

to America that afternoon by some other road, for stepping
westward

‘ seemed to me
A very drizzly destiny.’

% Next morning, under a brilliant sunshine, the autum-
nal glories of the woods came out in full force. Crags
and lichen-covered rocks, and rich moist patches of mossy
verdure, scarcely seen through the umbrageous screen of
summer, were now distinctly visible through the clear
amber-coloured foliage of the birch trees, which con-
trasted well with the russet oak and the darker green of
the pines and hollies. Ben Yenue was in all his glory,
magnificently lighted up, yet deeply contrasted in light
and shade, every projecting crag having its long dark
shadow stretching westwards, and many cavernous hollows
being still in deepest gloom ; while at every step the
birches were waving them golden tresses, or showering
down leafy honours that emblazoned the very earth we
trod on. There is no such path in California nor the
Bathurst Mountains, for such is invisible to those whose
greedy restless eye is searching for earthly gold.

.... When we came to the open space of flattish
ground, odorous with Myrica gale, which we had to cross
occasionally on our homeward way as a nearer cut to the
Macfarlanes’, we made our adventurous way to the banks

292

TEE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

of the river, which was both rolling rapidly and roaring
fiercely. We then made our way up the river-side, and
as we best could over the wooded knolls to the boat-house.
This we achieved diligently though slowly, as the ground
was often rough and the heather high. We passed several
beautiful little waterfalls, and though sometimes sprawling
like a pair of wild cats, and up to the eyes in ferns and
bushes, we ever and anon came to some grassy platform
with sheltering rock or sylvan screen, and gazed around
upon the mingled majesty by which we were encompassed.
Though the distance is very short, this circumambulation
of every little creek and bay took us several hours. Bright
as was the sunshine, several heavy showers, both of snow
and rain, passed down the ravine between us and Ben
Venue. We ensconced ourselves once or twice in peaty
hollows among the heather when we thought the gloom
was gathering, but, with exception of a little peppering
now and then of dry hail that jumped just like ‘ sweeties,’
we escaped entirely.

“ Next morning (Thursday) was more beautiful than
ever, with the additional advantage of being calm and still
There was just a gentle breathing in the woods, and a
slight ripple on the waters, which, however, were bright
and blue from the almost unclouded brilliancy of the
heavens above. It was our last day, but as we did not
require to be in Stirling till after half-past five, we had

IZAAK WALTON.

293

plenty of time for another walk. Having yesterday
diverged from the road, we this morning took the usual
path to the loch, and then proceeded onwards as before
to the lofty platform station, where we gazed enamoured
till the mid-day sun was at its height. Retracing our
steps, though loath to go, we ascended the Penitentiary,
packed up our bundle, paid our bill, and made our way
to Stirling. Por the sake of the view we were each stage
in an uncovered conveyance, and during the last hour

i

felt monstrous cold; so much so, that we could at last
only faintly articulate, ‘ There ’s Stirling/ and on getting
to the station, instead of running up the battlements to
see the sun set, as did Jess of Dunblane, we ensconced
ourselves near the fire of the refreshment room, ordered
hot coffee and sandwiches, and were soon far cosier than
kings/’

TO ADAM WHITE, ESQ.

“ Woodville, 2 8th April 1852.

“ Since I wrote to you last I have been not seldom
ashamed, I shall not exactly say of forgetfulness or pro-
crastination, but of inefficiency . I looked through old
Izaak soon after hearing from you, and was as usual
delighted with his fine, old-fashioned, rambling way of
according his piscatorial excursions. But one can scarcely
regard it now-a-days as a practical work, and to make it

294

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

so by annotations would require the notes to be more
voluminous than the work itself. I thought at one time
of indicating certain inaccuracies and contradictions in
his natural history statements ; but, besides that you are
so much more competent to do this yourself than I am, I
find there is a recent edition of Walton by Rennie, in
which a good many things of that kind are noted. I
have, therefore, been nonplussed what to do. Any bio-
graphical illustration of the old worthies enumerated
would be in good hands if in yours, from your retentive
memory, and ready access to all books. All I can now
hope to do, if not already too late, is to answer any
queries you may be inclined to put. I have Rennie’s
edition by me, and a cheap one (Thomas Johnson, Man-
chester, 1851), and should like much if I could serve your
views ; but really the practice of a Scotch angler is so
entirely discordant from that of ‘ England in the olden
time ’ that they cannot be reconciled.

“ I have been a good deal occupied this winter by the
Royal Society (of Edinburgh) matters in consequence of
Professor Forbes’s absence, and my having been called
upon (a sad substitute !) to act for him as secretary. I
was a little anxious occasionally when there were few
papers in expectancy, but on the whole we have got
through the session wonderfully well, and I am now
arranging the papers and transmitting them to the

HERRING.

295

printers, with a view to the formation of a Fasciculus
of the Transactions. I have also had a good deal to do
for the Board of Fisheries, and took the latter and Mr
Secretary Primrose down as far as Ballantrae in March,
to examine the great spawning ground for herring there.
It is, so far as I know, the only ascertained bank resorted
to by herrings for the purpose of procreation, and the
Boaid has been petitioned to stop the spring fishery there
as destructive to the spawn as well as parent fish. But
it is an awkward thing to interfere with the sustenance
of a poor population, especially when drawn from the sea,
which calls no man master. However, I have laid the
case before the Board in a report on its various bearings
In these, and unfortunately many other matters, I am
one of the c great unpaid.’ Of literary work on my own
accoimt, I have done little or nothing since I saw you.
A few weeks ago, Professor Praser, the editor of the
A 01 th Br itisli Review, came down in a dilemma regarding
a very long and elaborate article on Dr Chalmers’s life,
including the forthcoming volume, by Isaac Taylor, which
had been promised in time for his May number. Mean-
while, poor Taylor had lost a daughter, and his being able
to fimsh his essay in time became doubtful. So Praser
came to me to see if I would run up a natural history
article of any kind as a stop-gap, and I set to and got
through with an ornithological concern, taking Gould’s

296

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

birds of Australia for one portion, and poor Thomson’s
birds of Ireland for another. I am happy to say, how-
ever, that Isaac Taylor’s article came in time after all;
so my poor, though well-intentioned, substitute will not
be required till August. It is well, however, that it is
now written and out of hand.

“Have you been as yet turning over your summer
plans ? If you can give us a few days here at any time
it will afford us great pleasure, and you might find some-
thing in my ill-arranged, and now seldom looked at, col-
lection to interest you. I have not forgotten my promise
as to specimens of char and Sal-mo ferox. They are both
here, and I hope to get an artist en route to the Academy
Exhibition to take them up to the British Museum.

“You would see that my brother John had resigned
his chair. We all thought it the safest course, as intel-
lectual labour fatigued him, and retarded his recovery.
Now that he has nothing to do but take care of himself,
I hope he will mend. He has the advantage of being
with my brother Robert at Woodburn, a fine, large, airy
dwelling near Dalkeith, and walks about a good deal
every day. My nephew (James Ferrier, the late pro-
fessor’s son-in-law), who has for several years filled with
great acceptance the moral philosophy chair in St Andrews,
is a candidate for the vacant chair in Edinburgh. Dr
M'Cosh of Belfast, the author of a very excellent book of

HOUSE OF COMMONS.

297

a more spiritual kind than is usual in metaphysics, is also
a candidate. I cannot but wish him well, as I am sure
he would do justice to the chair; but ‘ blood is thicker
than water, and as my nephew is regarded by Sir William
Hamilton, and other leaders in mental philosophy, as one
of the most distinguished metaphysicians produced in
these days, I don’t think we shall be taking the wrong
sow by the ear in doing what we can to serve him.”

In June 1853, he was called to give evidence before a
committee of the House of Commons, as to the probable
efiect which the supplying of Glasgow with water from
Loch Lubnaig would exert on the salmon-fishing of the
rivers into which its waters are discharged. Prom this
examination he came out with highest honours, and, as he
himself alleged, with the degree of “ senior (wr)angler .”

TO MISS TAYLOE.

“ Craven Hotel, Strand,

4<A June 1853.

“My deae Child,— I hope you have more time to
read letters than I have to write them. The former pro-
cess is sometimes a more arduous task than the latter.

Witness the caligraphy of my beloved . How her

pen slides away like a shrimp in the sand, leaving lines
scarcely less legible. When I hear from her, I satisfy my

298

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

conscience by holding the letter to my heart, and taking
it for granted all is right ; but as to any continuous or
distinct decipherment, that is out of the question.

“ I am here to instruct the senators of mighty England
on the mysteries of salmon legislation, and on the water-
gauges of the Teith and Leny and Loch Lubnaig. What
a fine thing it is to have been a good wader in early life !
Angus seemed much amused by my grave and assiduous
attention to business, a brief return to the forlorn hope of
my youth ! Alas, alas ! when I look back, what is there
but a trackless waste ? Truly I have been an unprofitable
servant, and now the night cometh when no man can
work. A blighted spring makes a barren autumn ; though
it is but little that the most diligent can do, and the one
thing needful is the sure foundation of the Eock of Ages.

o o

\

‘ Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out ! ’
Lord, ever give us that bread !

“ It was pleasant for me to find the M ‘Neills in London.
I shall dine with them this evening, having hitherto kept
almost aloof from want of leisure, or rather from the de-
sire to give my leisure to the Exhibition. What an extra-
ordinary picture Millais’ ‘Eelease ’ is ! As to the mere
handiwork or manipulation, I have scarcely seen anything
like it either in ancient or modern art; and then the
sentiment is so simply and solemnly expressed, without
any of that over-acting or show of grief, so common with

MRS STOWE.

299

artists of a lower kind, however clever. Landseer, to my
mind, is not effective this year. I was much struck by a
single simple head, a youthful Samuel, — 'Speak, Lord,
for Thy servant heareth.’ The artist's name is Sant. In
my ignorance, I had never heard of him ; but that head
shews a beautiful combination of almost infantile sim-
plicity and sweetness, with an expression of reverential
awe, as in the presence of the great God who made heaven
and eaith, which to my mind is very striking.

“ 1 liave JlIst received a note from His Grace of Argyll,
wishing me to be with him this evening. He is a great
admirer of Mrs Stowe, and in reply to some remarks of
mine, says, 'As to Mrs Stowe, nothing will spoil her, I
feel sure.’ Good Mrs Harriet ! she was almost worried
to death m Edinburgh, and must have thought ns rather
a ruffianly set of philanthropists. For myself, I am too
old now to become a philanthropist, and I have a great
aversion to crowds ; moreover, I set such great store by
the feminine part of the female character, that I am slow
to see the use or propriety of any woman appearing upon
a public platform, unless, as in the case of the late Mrs

Manning, she is going to be hanged. It then becomes
unavoidable.”

Towards the end of that year, the editor of this volume
projected a serial for young men, which afterwards ap-

soo

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

peared and was completed under the name of ‘ Excelsior.’
Eor aid in the zoological department he applied to Mr
Wilson, who responded with characteristic kindness. He
prepared a series of lively little monographs on parrots,
humming-birds, and pigeons; and editorial perplexities
would be greatly diminished if all contributors were equally
considerate and magnanimous. Although no man was
better entitled to insist on the inviolable integrity and
immediate insertion of his articles, he submitted to delays,
divisions, and retrenchments, which would have roused the
ire of less practised authorship ; and from the recollec-
tions of those days, and our experience with not a few
kindred spirits, we would strongly advise the conductors
of similar undertakings to seek for allies men of estab-
lished fame, and who are not haunted by a constant feel-
ing as if their rights or dignity were in danger.

TO THE REV. JAMES HAMILTON, D.D.

“ Woodville, Edinburgh, 23 d August 1853.

“ My dear Sir, — I had recently the pleasure to receive
your letter of the 16th. It had gone astray for a day or
two in consequence of £ near Edinburgh’ being on it. The
Post-office people think that near means a good bit off,
and so send notes thus addressed to Woodville, Golinton.
Being within the Post-office delivery, we are regarded by

ANIMALCULES.

301

the officials as forming an actual part of the Modern
Athens.

“ It is not easy to resist your explanatory appeal, not
that I have any desire to resist it, but the reverse. At the
same time, I am not very free just at this time to under-
take new things till I have made further progress in others
to which I stand previously pledged. I have a great num-
ber of ‘ heavy wet/ yet sufficiently dry, articles to revise
for the new edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. I
would rather write them anew, but the publishers are de-
sirous to preserve and take advantage of the old materials
as far as they can be made properly available. I am there-
fore treating them as gently as I can (one is apt to over-
look the faults of their own offspring), and shall satisfy my-
self by adding a supplement now and then. I have just
done so to the article Animcdcide, and having approached
the subject from the Ehrenbergian or zoological side, I
have viewed many tribes as animals which the modern
botanists claim as plants. I must see what is thought of
the vexed question by Eobert Brown, with whom I am to
dine to-day at Dr Greville’s. But to keep to your points
of inquiry. Without pledging myself to very regular or
very frequent contributions, I have no objection to say that
I shall do my best to send you a short article now and
then. I suppose (and hope) that you mean them to be
anonymous. There would be no objection, of course, to a

802

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

published list of pledged contributors if the publisher ad-
vise such ; but I hate to see my own name, having been
(under the alias of J a mes Wilson ) frequently transported,
and more than once actually executed. Even if my know-
ledge and capacity admitted of my taking a prominently
useful part, I would feel some delicacy in doing so in any
new undertaking, seeing that of late years I have declined,
at least not acceded to, applications from Mr Lockhart (for
the Quarterly Review), and from the Blackwoodians. I
won’t dwell upon this, because I really feel that editors
labour under a misconception in requesting my aid. If
they had it oftener, they would ask it seldomer. Expe-
rientia docet. I have sent articles to the North British
now and then, partly from the impulse of the Free Church
spirit, partly because, as a near neighbour and old friend
of Professor Fraser, I am within the vortex. A stream
must carry straws as well as logs.'”

TO THE SAME.

“ W oodville, 5th October 1853.

“ My dear Sir, — I was favoured with yours of the 1st
in due course. I hope to be able to send you something
in time. I have been maundering so much of late about
the ‘ Birds of Britain,’ that I think they should be allowed
to fold their wings for a time. The ‘ Birds of the Bible’

BIEDS OF THE BIBLE.

303

may be kept in mind, although the want of Hebrew might
be a difficulty if one wished to be critically correct. I
doubt not the subject has been already rushed into by some
who know nothing either of dead languages or live birds :
at least a good deal of what I thought inaccurate has met
my eye in glancing over the so-called Scripture natural his-
tories. The late Dr Scott of Corstorphine (afterwards, I
think, Professor of Hebrew in St Andrews,) left a number
of unpublished essays of that sort behind him. He was a
good Eastern scholar, but didn't know a bullfinch from a
black-cock.

“ I think the easiest plan for myself, and one of the
most suitable for you, would be for me to take up now and
then a single definite group, say, for example, parrots
(■ Psittacidce ), or humming-birds ( Trochilidce ), and give a
sketch of the nature, extent, and distribution of the group.
It would have the advantage that each such contribution,
supposing it correctly treated, would be complete in itself
—a satisfactory circumstance alike to writer and reader."

TO THE SAME.

“ W oodyille, 30 th January 1854.

“ DEAR Sir, — On coming down stairs to breakfast
this morning for the first time this year, I have the plea-
sure to receive your note and the vera effigies of the least

304

TIIE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

of all humming-birds. It seems quite correct. I am glad
you are inclined to deal gently with me as concerns the
Trochilidce, in the matter of time. I have for several
weeks, with the exception of a rolling tide from the Royal
Society which I could not resist without being swept away,
been unable to do anything, or at least have left undone
whatever was not altogether imperative and unpostponable.
On Saturday forenoon I had an application from Professor
Eraser to know ‘ what progress I was making ’ with an
article on Professor Forbes’s book on Norway for the
North British Review. I had to give a most lame account
of my proceedings, Dr Greville having borrowed the book,
and the article itself being not even ruminated upon during
(what to me of late have often been) the sleepless watches
of the night. Mr Fraser wishes the said article by the
first of March. I doubt if I can do it at all But I must
undertake nothing else till I at least try.”

TO HIS DAUGHTER AND NIECE.

“Princess Royal, Campbelltown,
Monday, lD7t Sept. 1854.

“ My dearest Children, — I wrote a few hurried lines
from hence on Saturday, I think ; but really, on board
one does not always know whether head or heels are
uppermost, and the days of the week or month are of small
account.

TAME FISHES.

305

“ I told you it was funny at Port Logan to see the tame
cods, head and shoulders. A large pond has been quar-
ried out of the rock at the head of a narrow creek. The
sea-water rushes up the creek every tide, and falls away
from it at ebb-tide ; but the excavation being below high-
water mark, eight or ten feet in depth of fine sea-water is
always left within it. There is a cottage and an old
woman alongside. She descended with us down a flight
of steps to the side of the pond, with a basin of limpets
and sand-eels in her hand. The moment the cod-fish saw
her, they flocked to her feet, raised their great heads
above water, opened their enormous mouths, laid their
heads over each other’s shoulders, and wambled about
like a set of puppy dogs. I took the basin and fed
them. The moment one of them found a sand-eel in
its mouth, it gave a great plunge, seeming unable to
swallow till it got its head under water. One of them
became very much attached to me, and I think would
fain have gone on board the cutter with me. I never
saw such a set of lazy, good-natured fellows as these fish
in my life. They are as happy as the day is long, but, of
course, are picked out now and then and carried to the
kitchen.

“Went to the Tree Church yesterday and had a good

discourse from a Mr M'Neill, originally from Isla ; a large

and respectable congregation. Bead our good books all

u

306

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

the afternoon. P thinks Jukes on the ‘Types’ not

very clear. I have forgot or neglected to bring Dr Gordon
with me. I took up ‘ Cruden ’ &c. to my bed-room, in-
tending (having a handful) to go down for other things ;
but I was much hurried at last, in consequence of staying
too long in town on the day of my departure, and having
no one to help me. I must not be left to myself again.”

When, on the death of the venerable Professor Jameson,
the chair of Natural History was conferred on Mr Edward
Porbes, no one rejoiced more heartily than Mr Wilson in
the return to Edinburgh University of its gifted alumnus ;
and the acqaintance then resumed, in the course of one
short summer, ripened into a warm and affectionate
friendship. In the alacrity with which he aided the new
professor in the arrangement of the Museum, and in the
ardour with which he shared the general impulse given to
the cause of the natural sciences, by the accession of a
cultivator so distinguished, it almost looked as if Mr
Wilson’s own youth were renewed. But all the projects
and hopes of which Eorbes was the mainspring, were
doomed to a sudden and overwhelming collapse. The
session had scarcely opened, when a feeling of mingled
grief and consternation spread through every circle where
the import of such tidings could be understood, in the
announcement that Edward Eorbes was gone. To Mr

EDWARD FORBES. 307

Wilson, the public calamity had all the additional bitter-
ness of a personal bereavement.*

TO SIR WILLIAM JARDINE, BART.

“Woodville, 20 til Nov. 1854.

“My dear Sir William —We have been often thinking
of you and yours, and I was about to write to you on things
in general, when I have been altogether astounded and
overthrown by the disastrous death of Professor Edward
Eorbes, which took place yesterday morning, after a short
though severe illness. I know not when the funeral may
be, but I know how deeply you will sympathise in this
great and irremediable bereavement. If you think of
coming to town, I hope you will take up your quarters
here. We shall not be from home, but let us know by
a line or two.”

The vacant chair was offered to Mr Wilson himself.
With his singularly comprehensive knowledge of the
various departments of zoology, and surrounded by the
respect and good-will of all his fellow-labourers in Scot-
land, no appointment could have been more natural, or

* Professor Jameson died April 17, 1854, in the eightieth year of his
age, and after occupying the chair of Natural History for half a century.
Professor Edward Forbes died on the 18th of November 1854, at the
age of forty.

308

THE LAST SUMMEES AND WINTEES.

more honourable to those who made it. But he declined
it, for reasons which he thus communicates to Sir W.
Jar dine, in a letter dated 1 2th December : —

“ I may tell you privately, in case of erroneous rumours
reaching you, that, from mistaken notions of two or three
of my own friends, who chance to have it in their power
to give the chair, regarding myself and capabilities, I was
asked ‘ to stand,’ and assured that if I did so, the govern-
ment influence could be gained and the election secured.
They were ignorant of my constitution both of mind and
body, and of the now irremediable habits of half a century.
My fittest as well as most familiar place is by the fireside,
and there I shall remain, grateful to God for His goodness in
making it cheerful from time to time. If I knew either a
great deal more, or a great deal less, I would have no
difficulty ; because in the one case, I would feel that I was
ft for the chair, in the other case, I would not feel that I
was unfit for it. In regard to others, I told you at the
time, I was not to be a partisan, but wished a fair field and
no favour t.o the worthiest beyond their worth.”

The death of Professor Forbes was followed by a loss
still more personal and afflicting. For years Mr Wilson
had rejoiced in the society as well as the ministry of his
relative, the Rev. John Sym. With an intellect wonderfully

THE REV. JOHN SYM.

809

clear, orderly, and vigorous, Mr Sym combined the deep
and reverential piety and the exquisite taste, which, to
devout and intelligent hearers, rendered his discourses
singularly attractive ; whilst his bright and manly bearing
was the true interpreter of a soul generous, noble, and
loyal in a rare degree. To Mr Wilson, his able and affec-
tionate pulpit instructions had been a source of much

/

enjoyment and spiritual benefit ; and on the frequent
companionship of a friend so congenial and comparatively
youthful, he naturally reckoned as a chief solace of his
own advancing years. But Infinite Wisdom had other-
wise ordained, and in mid-time of his days, the active,
faithful minister ceased from his labours.

. "My dear Sir William, — We have just had a sore
distress in the sudden death of our faithful pastor and near
relative, the Rev. John Sym — a person to whom we were
all greatly attached, and whose loss to us is in many ways
irremediable. He leaves a widow and seven young chil-
dren. He and his family passed yesterday week with us
here. He had a slight inflammatory cold on the ensuing
day, which subsided or was subdued towards the end of
the week. But on Saturday some feverish symptoms

TO SIR WILLIAM JARDINE, BART.

“ Woodville, 31s< Jan. 1855.

310

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

supervened. In a single night lie sank to rise no more,
dying on Sunday forenoon, our Communion Sabbath, to
the inexpressible grief of all who knew him. We consign

him to-morrow to the narrow house. My nieee H has

been with Mrs Sym ever since her husband’s death, and
with the exception of sleeping here, I have passed most of
my time with the bereaved family in George Square,
lending a hand as I best can towards the required ar-
rangements. Of course, other things must go on and be
attended to, in spite of private griefs ; and the best thing
for all of us, under all circumstances, is occupation. I hope
in another day or two, though it may be with a heavy heart,
to proceed with whatever I may have in hand, or may be
called upon to do ; and I therefore desire you to under-
stand that this calamity, which is really great, need make
no difference in your plans as regards coming here. Next
week I understand you to be looked for, and we shall
expect you to come to us, with any of your family whom
it suits to bear you company. Of course, our usually quiet
home will, under the circumstances, be even quieter than
usual ; but I know you have generally quite enough of
occupation of your own to prevent time hanging heavy,
and you will kindly excuse our own depression, which we
shall do our utmost to subdue.”

In attending Mr Sym’s funeral, Mr Wilson caught a

LETTER TO MRS SYM.

311

heavy cold, and was himself laid aside for nearly two
months. On recovering, he wrote the following letter to
Mrs Sym : —

“ Woodyille, 22 cl March 1855.

“My dear Mrs Sym, — I need scarcely say how fre-
quently I have been thinking of yourself and your dear
children, during my indisposition ; and regretting, among
other effects of my illness, that it should have so long
debarred me from seeing you and them. I am now, how-
ever, quite better, and trust to a renewal of that intercourse
from which, for many a year, I have derived such un-
alloyed enjoyment. Alas ! it cannot be, in one of its
features, what it once was ; but it is very consolatory for
me to think, that during our long and intimate acquain-
tance, not a shadow of a cloud has ever interposed between
your husband’s friendship and my own. I may surely
say, that ‘ while dead, he yet speaketk,’ for I fondly dwell
on much of our intercourse, which related not to the things
of earth, but now forms a portion of those golden links
which lead our thoughts to heaven.

“ He knew in whom to trust, and he had also the blessed
privilege of being able to shew to others the way that
leadeth to eternal life. Blessed are they who die in the
Lord, and may our end be like his. The thing that has
happened is hard to be realised, and I sometimes think

312

LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

I dream, more especially as my own illness has, in some
measure, prevented my seeing with my bodily eye the
grievous blank, however sorely I may feel it. I pray God,
who gives and takes away, that all of us, yourself more
especially, as the great sufferer, may be consoled and sup-
ported. Let us look also to the blessings which remain,
and I need scarcely assure you how anxious all of us here
will ever be to minister to your comfort, and to the well-
being of your children. — I am yours affectionately/’ &c.

TO THE REY. J. HAMILTON, D.D.

" Lesketh How, Ambleside, 9 th April 1855.

“ My dear Sir, — I have frequently had you in mind
of late from the feeling of an unanswered note being
somewhere in my possession. My niece Henrietta replied
to it pro tempore. I had a prolonged and severe illness
during winter and early spring, and although greatly
better for some little time, I continue to feel the act or
attitude of writing very irksome, and indeed painful if
prolonged more than a minute or two. Even in this
respect I am now better, and hope to be soon fit for some
kind of work. I have a good deal before me in conse-
quence of winter arrears.

“ We have come up here for change of air, and to avoid
the Edinburgh east winds. We are with old friends,

PIGEONS.

313

and very kind ones, Dr and Mrs Davy ; and Mrs Fletcher,
the mother of the latter, my oldest friend, now in her
eighty-sixth year, lives close at hand.

“ Your note to Henrietta has been received since we
came here. I was really just about writing to say how I
remembered that your request related rather to engravers’
work than anything quite immediate from myself. I
think pigeons were formerly named among us. If you
care to take them first, I was going to suggest that a
gigantic foreign species, well known but remarkable in
size and structure, called the Goura, or crown pigeon,
might be selected as illustrative. It is engraved in many
books, and exists in most collections. I cannot refer
specially to any good representation of it, but Adam
White could shew it you at once in the British Museum.
Or if you like to take the turtle dove, Columba turtur
(the one which visits England), or the laughing turtle-
dove, Col. risoria (the eastern one), or any other species,
it will be the same thing to me.

“ Since I sat down to this (and my hand is tired
already) I have heard read out with deep regret, from the
Witness, the death of your dear mother, and so I almost
feel inclined to apologise for intruding. But I know you
will be glad to hear from me, and I was myself desirous
to write, more willing indeed than able. I am, however,
in every respect greatly better, and I hope I am sufficiently

314

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

grateful for all the care and kindness bestowed upon me
during my illness, and for the goodness and mercy which
have followed me all the days of my life. — I am, sincerely
and sympathising^ yours,” &c.

TO SIR W. JARDINE, BART.

“ Board of Fisheries, Edinburgh,
31s« July 1855.

“ I found so many interruptions at home lately, from
strawberry-feeders and flower-pulling parties, that I have
been taking refuge here in a large room, with a more
commodious and less crowded table than my own, where I
can expatiate on some fishing points, on which I am pressed
for ‘ copy/ I have also ready access to some documents
which I could scarcely carry home. I forget if I men-
tioned to you that my old friend Adam Black had got
both himself and me into a scrape, in consequence of some
misapprehension about the article ‘Fisheries’ for the
‘ Encyclopaedia/ He thought I had promised to do it, and
when asked if it was ready, all I could say was that I had
never even heard that it was expected. Whose memory
was in fault nobody can tell, but I have been endeavour-
ing to remedy the mistake, by whomsoever made, by work-
ing rather closer than I wished to do during this flowery
and fruity season.

ARTAXERXES BUTTERFLY.

315

“ But what I send a line for just now is to say that I
wish you would give an hour now and then to the parr
question ; that is, ascertain whether a great preponderance
of the larger ones in the river at this time are males. A
man in England writes me that he can reconcile the adverse
theories of one and two year old smolts, by the fact that
all the female parr c smolt ' soon after the completion of
the first year, the males not till after the close of the second.
I remember being often struck by the precocity of the
male autumnal parr, and by the scarcity or undeveloped
condition of the females. If they are all off to the sea-
bathing some months before, of course we can scarcely
expect to find them in fresh water.”

TO ADAM WHITE, ESQ.

“ Woodville, lith December 1855.

“ Can you give me any precise information as to the
literary history of our Arthur Seat butterfly, Pol. Arta-
xerxes ? All its transformations have been now made out,
but a friend of mine asks me where it was first described.
Eabricius mentions the only specimen of his day as being
in the cabinet of Mr Jones of Chelsea, who also seems to
have published and given a figure of it. Who was this
Mr J ones of Chelsea, and where are his figure and descrip-
tion to be found? I remember, before you were born,

316

THE LAST SUMMERS AND WINTERS.

catching it with Dr Leach, and continuing to send him
specimens to London from time to time ; but I forget if
he ever published any original or other description of
it. It is entered in Samouelle’s ‘Compendium/ 1819. I
don’t know what Donovan says, my copy being borrowed.”

TO MISS TAYLOR.

“ Woodville, 3 d Dec. 1855.

“ . . . . There is certainly a great want of continuity
as well as efficiency in anything I have tried to do since I
came last home, and I almost fear I am too old to mend.
However, I suppose that I should at least make the
attempt. To a certain extent I have been lately doing
so, while visiting with our new clergyman such of our
congregation as reside in the southern districts, which
have' been assigned to my supervision. Many changes
have taken place among our people. Of many, the places
now know them no more for ever, seeming to say, ‘ Be ye
also ready/ Alas ! how often has that been said afore-
time, and with how little effect ! May the grace of God
be so vouchsafed that while speaking to others, I be not
myself a castaway !

“I sometimes feel, especially while indulging in the
dreamy remembrances of Westmoreland, that what Buskin
calls ‘ the duty of delight * is the only one I ever perform.

THE DUTY OF DELIGHT.

317

At least I perform it so much, more easily and pleasantly
than any other, that I am not seldom doubtful, as to how
far it may be classed among the meritorious duties in any
way. I fear it may be viewed as a question of casuistry,
as may many actions which a person performs, and with
alacrity, because, though land as towards others, they are
also delightful to himself. Perhaps the true test of the
performance of duty is, when it involves the taking up of
the Cross.”

-

Op Mr Wilson’s piety no intimate friend had any doubt ;
and yet no friend was so intimate as to know the exact
time and circumstances in which that piety originated.
On any subject if his feelings could not be surmised, they
were not likely to be spoken, and his own religious
experience was about the last theme on which his Chris-
tian humility, not to say his constitutional delicacy of
mind, would have allowed him to expatiate. His love to
the Saviour, the deep reverence with which he approached
sacred things, his intimate acquaintance with the Word of
God, his tenderness of conscience, his meek, gentle, peace-
making spirit, were known and read of all men ; but at
what period, and through what agencies the amiable man
became the still more amiable Christian, is more a matter
of infeience than a point on which any one can give
precise information.

As already mentioned, from the time when he quitted

the writer’s office until he had nearly reached his thirtieth

year, Mr Wilson contended with weak health and broken

spirits. Contrasting his own blighted prospects with the

x

322

THE HIDDEN LIFE.

radiant paths and redundant vigour of friends and con-
temporaries, members of his own family inclusive, if he
did not say, “ I do well to be angry,” he could not help
feeling many times gloomy ; nor does it appear that there
came at the critical moment any helping hand, any
counsellor so appreciating and sympathising, as to indicate
the alternatives of honourable occupation, and cheer into
hope and self-reliance his sensitive spirit. But whilst his
contemplative and poetical propensities entailed the re-
proach of day-dreaming, and whilst others were too busy
with their own pursuits to look after the interests of the
romantic invalid ; betwixt native diffidence and bodily
languor, he had not sufficient energy for self-assertion,
and was often ready to succumb to the dreariest of all
anticipations, a life of inglorious inutility.

Since his death a fragment has been found among his
papers, the only contribution towards an autobiography
now in existence, or which it is likely that he ever wrote.
It seems to have been commenced as an effort at self-
examination, and begins with some allusion to his early
trials and disappointments. But with characteristic
tenderness and humility, he soon passes from his afflic-
tions to his own faults and infirmities, and the retrospect
is alike indicative of the clearer light and habitual lowli-
ness of his later years.

EETKOSPECT.

323

“ When a person is actuated by the love of God as well
as man, when he applies the Saviour's gracious words ‘ do
this in remembrance of me/ not solely to the partaking of
the sacrament of the Supper, but to the performance of
whatever he may be called upon to do, however destruc-
tive to himself — when he has respect to the recompence of
reward, and remembers that the eye of the all-seeing God,
for ever sleepless and undimmed, is upon him by night
and day, then is he truly steadfast and not afraid, then
shall not his youth be joyless, nor his manhood useless,
but even his old age, so often desolate, ‘ shall be clearer
than the noon-day.’ I shall not say that I lived without
God in the world, but I often felt God-forsaken, which I
surely would not have done had I simply laid myself and
all my sins and sorrows at the foot of the Cross, trusting
to £ the blood of sprinkling, which speaketh better things
than that of Abel.’ I thought, in truth, far more of my
sufferings than of my sins, and looked not, at least con-
fidingly, ‘ on Him whom I had pierced.’ Had I acknow-
ledged the Lord in all my ways, He would have directed
my paths, and made my darkness light. 0 God, may I
now say, ‘ The Lord- is my light and my salvation, whom
shall I fear?1 The Lord is the strength of my life, of
whom shall I be afraid?’ May that faithful saying be
accepted and deeply engraven on my heart, ‘that Jesus
Christ came into the world to save sinners/ to ‘ blot out

324

THE HIDDEN LIFE.

the handwriting of ordinances that was against us,’ to
reconcile the world to God, ‘ not imputing to them their
trespasses,’ so that I who was some time ‘ afar off/ may be
made nigh by the shedding of the Saviour’s blood, while I
confess with my tongue and believe with my heart that
Jesus is the Son of God, who raised Him from the dead
0 holy Father, may it come to pass that in the place
where it was said unto us, ‘ Ye are not my people/ there
shall we be called ‘ the children of the living God.’

“ The test, as it seems to me, of a person acting upon, or
being actuated by the highest principles, is this, that under
similar circumstances we would again follow precisely the
same course, altogether irrespective of results. But as I
myself would, if I could throw myself back into former
times and circumstances, in all probability follow an
entirely opposite course from that which I have actually
pursued, I conceive there must have formerly been (and
may still exist), as great a mixture of pride and folly in
the feelings by which I have been regulated, as of true
humility and Christian wisdom.

“ Most people in early life are fond of building castles
in the air, and are constitutionally careless at that period
of their own interests ; and my poor castles, however fair
and glittering to my own fancy, certainly far brighter and
more beautiful than anything I can now conjure up, were
in no way founded on filthy lucre Alas ! for ‘ gor-

CONSOLATORY SAYINGS.

S25

geous cloudland,’ and the ' world of dreams ! ’ Alas ! for
the difference now greater than that of light and dark-
ness, between the confiding imaginations of youth and
the actual knowledge of after-years ! Romance and
reality ! the peaceful repose of early and undoubting affec-
tion, and then — the battle of life. Who can relieve us
from the body of sin and death ? vain is the help of man ;
may we look evermore to that Rock which is sure and
steadfast, and which, in its serene brightness, overlooks
and illumines the darkness even of the valley of the
shadow of death (making death itself a shadow), and which
the waters of Jordan cannot overflow Yet in read-

ing the Word of God, although my views of God’s provi-
dence and scheme of redemption were very dark, I was
not without consolation, and I often dwelt with pleasure
on such passages as the following : — ' The Lord is nigh
unto them that are of a broken heart, and saveth such as
be of a contrite spirit.’ 'The sacrifices of God are a
broken spirit, a broken and a contrite heart, 0 God, thou
wilt not despise.’ 'He healeth the broken in heart and
bindeth up their wounds.’ ' Sorrow is better than laughter,
for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made
better.’ ' To this man will I look, even to him that is of
a poor and contrite spirit and trembleth at my word.’ I
fear I trembled not at the 'word,’ though my soul was
disquieted within me ; though broken down by my sorrows,

I

32G the hidden life.

the burden of sin was not grievous, and I lightly esteemed
the God of my salvation. Though weary and heavy laden,
I went not to the fountain of living water, I sought not
the bread of life (Lord, evermore give us that bread), but
endeavoured (a vain endeavour) by a dogged resolution,
an obstinate endurance of great discomforts of mind and
body, to withstand adversities of whatever kind, instead of
looking to Him who redeemeth the soul of His servants,
so that ‘ none of those that trust in Him shall be desolate.’
For we have not an high priest who ‘ cannot be touched
with a feeling of our infirmities/ .... I had great con-
consolation then from all promises to the downcast and
disconsolate, such as ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for
theirs is the kingdom of Heaven ‘Blessed are they that
mourn, for they shall be comforted \ and so far this was
well. But did I not put my sufferings in front of my
faith, and my patient endurance almost in place of it, as if
I merited the compassionate love of God simply because I
suffered, instead of seeking to be justified (solely as well
as freely) by His grace, ‘ through the redemption that is
in Christ Jesus?’

“ That the love of God was upon me I do not doubt,
because we know that He ‘ first loved us,’ and this only
shews how great and abounding is the compassionate
goodness of Him who calleth sinners to repentance. But
that I loved God in return, or that the cross which I took

“ COME UNTO ME.

327

i)

up and bore, was the cross of Christ, I can scarcely believe,
when I call to remembrance my anxious dissatisfied con-
dition, my unmanly depression and discontent, and my
entire want of anything that could be called Christian
cheerfulness, or actual heartfelt resignation to the will of
God. In fact, I brooded over my own sufferings and dis-
tresses, instead of rejoicing in that ‘ one offering by which
He hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified — the
Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world.'
What marvel, then, that I was so often disconsolate, that
I felt so seldom and so slightly the ‘joy of believing?’ I
laboured and was heavy laden and was sore oppressed,
with a painful constitution of body and a feeble constitu-
tion of mind ; I was hedged in by difficulties on every
side and surrounded by thick darkness ; and yet I refused
the call of the Divine Redeemer’s love, — ‘ Come unto me,
and I will give you rest.’ Had I accepted of that invita-
tion fully and without reserve, then assuredly I might have
been ‘ troubled on every side, yet not distressed ; perplexed,
but not in despair ; persecuted, but not forsaken ; cast
down, but not destroyed.’

“ I therefore come to the conclusion that my sufferings
have been greatly imbittered by my sins, and chiefly by
my disobedience in not recognising, in almost any of my
misfortunes, the chastening hand of a loving Father. But
‘if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled unto

328

THE HIDDEN LIFE.

God, how much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved
by His life I”’

Of human helps, the first and greatest undoubtedly was
his excellent wife ; and the consolations to which he was
introduced under her gentle guidance became unspeakably
precious, when he was again left alone in the house of his
pilgrimage. “ Christianity is the religion of the sorrowful,”
and the balm which then healed his wounded spirit left a
deepened tincture in all his after history. Nor amongst
the outward influences which tended to confirm his faith
and mature his piety, can we omit a faithful and
earnest ministry, and the ecclesiastical events of 1843.
Like every ordeal, the Disruption was an application of
first principles. Few of his personal friends saw the
matter in the same light; but if the sentiments which, as
a Presbyterian, he had hitherto professed were not mere
ecclesiastical phrases, but the expression of solemn truths,
he saw no alternative but to carry them out, and quit, with
all its immense advantages, the old and time-honoured
Establishment. His minister, the Rev. Dr Julius Wood,
excepted, he and another elder were the only members of
New Greyf riars’ Session who took this step ; and, like every
other step in his career, he took it quietly and unobtru-
sively : but the taking of it was not without significance
at the moment, nor, as will be at once conceded by the

THE ELDEKSHEP.

329

candid reader, whether approving or condemning, was such
a step likely to be without considerable import in his
subsequent history. As one incidental consequence, he
was brought into much more intimate relations with his
then youthful kinsman already mentioned, the Rev. John
Sym, who now became his pastor, in whom he beheld the
specimen of living Christianity which realised his own
ideal sound sense, yet deep devotion; strong convictions
and decided actings, without aught of censoriousness or
controversial asperity ; true spirituality in union with great
intellectual vigour ; and an ardent enjoyment of the sublime
and the beautiful : and whilst they found in each other’s
society all the delight of kindred spirits, Mr Wilson did
not enjoy the scriptural instructions and fervent exhorta-
tions of the preacher the less because of the lucid cogency
of his reasoning and the many charms of his style.

On the day when he was ordained an elder, the late
Sir Ralph Abercrombie said to those assembled, “I have
been often entrusted by my Sovereign with honourable
and important commands in my profession as a soldier,
and His Majesty has been pleased to reward my services
with distinguished marks of his royal approbation ; but
to be the humble instrument, in the office of an elder, of
putting the tokens of my Saviour’s dying love into the
hands of one of the meanest of His followers, I conceive
to be the highest honour that I can receive on this side

330

THE HIDDEN LIFE.

heaven.” Such were Mr Wilson’s feelings. To his sensi-
tive nature, everything like an appearance in public was
trying ; but regarding the office as one highly honourable
and responsible, after he had undertaken it he would
allow nothing to deter him from the discharge of its
duties. He was an excellent elder. Shrewd and sagacious,
his opinion was all the more weighty on account of the
modesty with which it was stated, and his mild concili-
atory spirit made him a favourite with all his colleagues.
With his tender-heartedness, he was a welcome visitor in
the poor man’s home and in the house of mourning ; and
his accurate methodical habits made him anxious that all
things should be done “ decently and in order.” On the
eve of the communion Sabbath he used always to visit the
church, in order to satisfy himself that all its arrangements
were complete, and he was extremely solicitous to ensure
that outward decorum and solemnity, which in his own
case he found so conducive to the full impression and
enjoyment of the sacred season. It was on such occasions
that the two following letters were addressed to his dear
friend and fellow-elder, D. Crole, Esq. : —

“ Woodyille, 21sJ Oct. 1846.

“ My deae Sir, — I have written a few lines with regret
to our minister, informing him that, in consequence of an
increased attack of swelling and internal inflammation in

COMMUNION SABBATH.

331

the face, I am very apprehensive of being unable to
leave home to-morrow. I am now fearful that I may not
be able to rally in time for the performance of my public

duties on the Sacramental Sabbath The sacred

nature of those duties debars that forced service which
one may sometimes bring to bear on worldly works. I
think if called upon to actual labour during sickness, I
could break stones till I broke my back; but I cannot
bring myself, at least am very unwilling to do so, to con-
nect this great privilege and labour of love with such
painful bodily effort as might be required of me, if my
present attack does not abate. I have scarcely any hope
of getting out to-morrow ; but I shall anxiously hope and
pray that it may please God to remove some of my dis-
comfort before the Sabbath morning. I am sure that in
my present state I could not go through even the manual
part of the ceremony, even were it not one requiring a
fitting frame of mind not often vouchsafed during bodily
suffering. My particular complaint unfortunately unfits
me more than most others from any comfortable inter-
course with my fellow-creatures, while it continues in any
excess. Even in its ordinary condition, it renders that
intercourse much less easy or convenient than I would
desire it. But amid many blessings I must not repine.

‘ THY will be done.’ ”

332

THE HIDDEN LIFE.

TO D. CEOLE ESQ.

“Woodville, July 26, 1852.

“ My dear SiE, — Our Communion Sabbatli proceedings,
notwithstanding your lamented absence, went on with all
comfort and propriety, so far as external forms were con-
cerned, and I trust with spiritual advantages to not a few.
The Lord of the vineyard who discemeth the heart, alone
knows what good fruit may be borne through these solemn
observances. One’s own experience too truly tells him
how transitory the deeper and more holy affections are
apt to be ; but this renders it just the more necessary that,
in all abasement, we should seek again and again to draw
from the well of living waters. ‘ And Jesus said unto
them, I am the bread of life ; he that cometh unto me
shall never more hunger — he that believeth on me shall
never thirst.’ What a complexity of toil and trouble
would be saved to us by a sincere, simple, unbroken
belief in any one of many brief statements in the Holy
Scriptures— -to have it so engraven upon our hearts by the
Holy Spirit (vouchsafed to them that ask it), as to be felt
like an existing presence with every breath we draw! ‘If
thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt
believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the
dead, thou shalt be saved.’ How strange that there should
be either doubt or difficulty in the matter, yet how certain

“ ONLY believe/’ 833

that now as of old the seed still hills by the wayside and
is trodden down, or withers on the barren rock, or is
choked up by thorns ! I desire to dwell upon my own
waywardness and want of (abiding and sustaining) faith.
It cannot be but that the frequent absence of ‘joy ’ in be-
lieving must arise from the weakness of belief — that is,
from a want of simplicity and earnestness, and from an effort
to build up a ‘living temple’ for ourselves — instead of
resting in the blessed assurance that in our Father’s house
are many mansions prepared for them who through faith
are inheritors of the promises.”

As early as 1842, Mr Wilson had written the following
letter to a young friend, like himself, an ardent zoologist,
but who appears to have cherished some thoughts of enter-
ing the ministry : —

“ I hope I may infer from your letter that you are as
determined in your natural history pursuits as ever. I
heard it rumoured with regret that you were meditating
a change towards a more sacred calling, against which it
may seem unnatural that any one should endeavour to
persuade another. But if you feel yourself under the in-
fluence of such a solemn and spiritual state of mind, I
think you should consider how useful you may be without
any change in your worldly calling. Your good conduct

THE HIDDEN LIFE.

334

and intelligence have brought you, under God’s blessing,
into an honourable and independent position, in which
your influence may be considerable over the minds of many
thoughtless persons, and I think you are called upon
rather to maintain that position than to sacrifice it. Our
great want in all societies at present, is the absence or
rarity of spiritually-minded laymen, and of these the
influence is often greater than that of the clergy them-
selves. They mingle more easily in society and under
less formal restraints, and frequently obtain more credit
from the inconsiderate than the professed — I mean the
professional — servants of the Saviour. You should con-
sider the good, though it may be in a more limited way
than you desire, which you have it in your power to effect
even now, and the years which would require to elapse
before you could be called into a wider field of action, to
say nothing of the obstacles which may intervene to pre-
vent your being effectively so called at all Perhaps I
have no business to enter into this matter ; but I know
you will take it in good part, as you cannot misconstrue
my motives/"

Mr Wilson exemplified his own maxims. With a dis-
position the reverse of aggressive, it would have been
impossible for him to burst the barriers and assail for-
malism or indifference as some conversational evangelists

PRACTICAL PIETY.

335

have done so admirably ; but he fulfilled his function.
His fight shone. It was known that he was a Christian,
and in his entire deportment it was seen what a gracious,
endearing thing practical Christianity is. It did not
quench his wit. It did not make him ascetic or austere.
It did not burn his fishing-rod, nor did it banish poetry
and belles lettres from his library. It did not even hinder
him from laughing or making others laugh. But it made
him temperate in all things, and scrupulously truthful.
His natural kindness and tenderness of feeling it syste-
matised into a painstaking habit of beneficence ; and whilst
it took from his pungent humour every trace of personal
acerbity, into his own pensive and once dejected spirit it
infused an element no less sustaining than the hope full
of immortality. In his blameless, peaceful walk there
was a visible sermon, and the cordial sunshine he diffused
was a contribution to the gospel more rare and precious
than texts scholastically explained, or tracts, however
excellent, mechanically distributed.

The subject of this biography had now finished his
sixtieth year, and entered that seventh decade which Hr
Chalmers calls “ the Sabbath of our earthly pilgrimage.”
But as in the case of his illustrious friend himself, the
last day of the great week could scarcely be said to dawn
sabbatically. His hands were full of occupation, and his
health was utterly broken.

336

THE HIDDEN LIFE.

TO THE KEY. JAMES HAMILTON, D.D.

“Woodville, IQlh Jan. 1856.

“My dear Sir, — We were talking of you this morning
at breakfast-time, and now your note is put into my hand
I often thought of yourself and ‘ Excelsior ’ in the course
of the autumn, and bore in mind your application and my
promise to do what I could in the way of another paper.
I had rather a sore time of it, having not well got round
from the debilitating effects of an early spring illness, and
feeling somewhat feeble all summer ; then I was laid up
again by a severe attack of rheumatic gout, which confined
me to my room for nearly two months, and left me crippled
and very much shaken. As the winter advanced, I some-
how took it into my head that ‘ Excelsior ’ was finished,
and that any natural history article you might have
wanted had probably been supplied by some abler and
nearer hand. My autumn illness was very unfortunate,
as it came upon me in the middle of an article on Fisheries,
which I had promised Adam Black — a promise which I
fulfilled ineffectively and with ‘ difficulty and labour hard/
for I could scarcely hold the pen. At this moment I
scarcely know what to say about anything beyond this,
that to-morrow morning Sir William Gibson-Craig, Air
Bouverie Primrose, and myself, have to start for London
as a deputation to Lord Palmerston on business of the

SYDENHAM CRYSTAL PALACE.

337

Board of Fisheries, which the Powers that be are about to
demolish. I shall endeavour to see you when in London,
or shall write. We go to Fenton’s Hotel, St James'
Street.”

A brief visit to London was accomplished, and the
deputation found a favourable reception from the Govern-
ment. On the day after his return, Mr Wilson wrote the
following letter : —

TO MISS TAYLOR.

“Woodville, 24 th January 1856.

The Ciystal Palace is certainly a great, even a grand
affair, and in the full flush of summer the terraced grounds
and gardens must be very striking. But inside, one misses
the redundant outpouring of the riches of the earth, the
gorgeous fabrics, the precious natural products, ‘ barbaric
pearls and gold,’ which were formerly so lavishly outspread
as subjects of deliberate study. I doubt not the casts and
busts and architectural imitations would be of great in-
terest and extremely instructive ; but the apparent failure
in the bazaar and industrial departments throws rather an
air of wasteness as well as vastness— a look of inutility
which to me injured the general impression. I was too
much fatigued to be able to go round the gardens, or study

Y

338

THE CLOSE.

the stucco beasts outside, although I had often discussed
them with poor Edward Eorbes, who gave up a good
deal of his time to their fabrication and arrangement, as
well as to that of the ‘human’ illustrations in the in-
terior

“The other day I was amused by the address on a
letter from a naturalist in Paris, who is rather proud of
his English : —

‘ England,

Sir James Wilson,

Lover of Insects,

Woodville, Edinburgh.’

He sends me a priced catalogue of Spanish and Al-
gerian beetles. Many of them are very beautiful, but I
have more insects already than I can keep in order, and
so must decline any additions, at least by purchase.
Talking of beetles : a good many of mine are getting a
little mouldy on the back, I suppose from being, many of
them, on a ground floor, and so seldom aired by being
looked at. As you can see small things close at hand, it
will surely be a good work, and a very useful one to me,
for you to undertake, — touching the backs of a few thou-
sands with a fine hair pencil, dipped in alcohol. Spirit of
turpentine is fully the best, — the peculiar aud penetrating
odour being distasteful to insect life, and so keeping off
moths, &c. But the fumes, as I have found from ex-

INVERNESS.

339

perience, are apt to produce headache on the part of the
performer, so I promise you a glass of whisky.

“ J ust before Christmas I paid a visit to the Black Isle
in Koss-shire. On returning home I started at six in the
morning, in an open dog-cart, the wind high and piercing.
I was half frozen before I got down to Kessock Ferry,
opposite Inverness. Instead of crossing it, as usual, in
ten minutes, we were beat back, and took more than half-
an-hour. I had then to walk against the wind (a boy
carrying my bag) a good (to me bad) mile and a half, up
to Inverness. I tried to wear a respirator, but didn’t
know how, and thought it impeded my breathing. At all
events, I got very asthmatic, with discomfort from pain in
chest and side, and had to stop ever and anon, and crawl
like a snail even when under way. All the other people,
men, women, and children, were running like roe-deer to
catch the train ! For me such ‘ Excursion ’ I felt, as Lord
Jeffrey said, ‘would never do so I gave up the attempt,
and was more than ten minutes past my time. However,
this had no worse effect than that I finally got to Edin-
burgh next day to supper instead of to dinner, as I would
have done had I not missed the morning train. I am sure
you would have commiserated your Uncle James, had you
seen him exhausted and breathless, leaning against a
buttress, near Inverness, and heaving heavily, even like a
stranded porpoise left alone upon the shallow sands.”

i

310

TIIE CLOSE.

TO TIIE REV. JAMES HAMILTON, D.D.

“ Woodville, 27 111 February 1856.

“ My dear Sir, — I regretted not having the pleasure of
seeing you during my very brief stay in London. I was
obliged to devote myself almost exclusively to the business
I had in hand, and when that was over, felt rather too
tired to undertake other things. So I came home as soon
as possible. I have had rather more than enough to do
since I got back. I thought myself just about to be at
leisure when the Blackwoods applied to me for an article
on the Fishery Board question, which, under the circum-
stances, I could scarcely refuse. I got that launched off
for the March number of their magazine, and now our
worthy representative, Mr Adam Black, has put into my
hands two articles (Helminthology and Ichthyology) which
it seems I wrote for his ‘ Encyclopaedia Britannica ’ long
a o-o, and which must now be revised for the current edition
of the same. Helminthology is required without delay,
and so to oblige Black I must do it first and foremost.

“I wish to know how ‘Excelsior’ stands. When do
you require a short article, or how long can you wait?
Which article is it that you most incline to? I think you
said you had two wood-cuts.”

GEOWING INFIRMITIES.

341

TO MISS TAYLOR.

“ Woodville, 2 5th April 1S56.

“If you wisli to know about Uncle James, I am sorry to
say that he still continues very feeble, with an increase of
asthma, which makes locomotion, that is self-sustained or
pedestrian motion, so burdensome, that he has not been be-
yond his own gate for a couple of months, except in a cab.

“God forbid I should complain, or be otherwise than
thankful, not only for the enjoyment resulting from the
more active exercises of days gone by, but for the many
blessings and comforts by which I am still surrounded.
These asthmatic feelings come upon me now even in the
house, and when I am scarcely moving at all. Whether
they will subside as the season improves, I know not.
Their approaches and increase have been very gradual and
long continued, and so it may be that they are destined to
increase. I hope I may be grateful in the one case, and
patient in tire other. I am taking frequent drives now,
as I cannot walk beyond the garden boundaries, and even
within these my steps are few and slow. T’other day I
‘ put in J some mignonette seed with my own hands, but
had a chair beside me, and performed most of the work
sitting. A redbreast, which perhaps remembered me in a
more robust condition, seemed somewhat surprised at my
attitude and mode of working. Talking of gardening : I

342

THE CLOSE.

send you a few hollyhock seeds, which I believe ought to
be sown at this time. Of course, they will not flower till
the autumn of next year. If they make growth this
season, they should be planted out early next spring, when
they will be about the size of smallish carrots. I think I
said once before that I am not very anxious as to your
cultivating autumnal plants. I think you may then be
better, that is, more humanely occupied in cultivating
other people, and recovering, in the breezy north, from *
the enervating effects of a southern locality. By the by,
tell me about turtle-doves and things of that kind which
occur in Kent, and of which we here know nothing.
Please also to send me a small supply of early glow-worms.

I believe they are still more abundant in the south of
England than in our own beloved vales [of Westmore-
land.] The posts are so rapid now that I have no doubt
a small colony might be sent safely and salubriously in
any lozenge box, with a few stalks of moist grass to lay
hold of, and prevent their being too much tossed about.

“ To-day my people are all off on foot, some three miles
westward towards Colinton, with the Sym children and
some other youngsters, including two dogs, and about two
dozen of hard-boiled eggs and sandwiches. Joy be with
them. I thought at one time of joining them in a cab,
but the expectation of my doing so might have hampered
their movements ‘ in dingle and bushy dell,’ and so I have

FINAL EMPLOYMENTS.

343

fixed to stay at home in solitude. I am to have my chop
and potatoes along with their tea and toast, when they
return, no doubt well wearied, ’twixt five and six.

“ I am now getting wearied myself, having had other
writing to do already, with more in expectancy. I cannot
do much at a time, but being so much within-doors, and
paying no visits, I have plenty of time, had I the capacity
to use it to any proper purpose. The only things I have
got through since I reported to you my return from Lon-
don, are two articles for Blackwood, — one on ‘ The Scottish
Fisheries/ and another, not out till the first of May, on
‘Fish Ponds and Fishing Boats.’ I also re-wrote the
article ‘Helminthology’ (leeches, earth-worms, &c.), for
the current edition of the ‘Encyclopaedia/ and a short
paper on the ‘ Columbidse/ or Pigeons, for which I was
entreated by Dr James Hamilton for his ‘Excelsior/ which
in my ignorance I had fancied finished long ago. I have
other things in hand, but I must take them leisurely, and
begin in good time so as not to be pressed, as I have so
often been. When you come down you will lend me a
helping hand. Do send us a line or two soon touching
your summer and autumnal plans. We shall rely on
seeing you some day, and remember that with myself
time is passing quickly. Give our kindest regards to your
mother, and believe me ever, dear child, your affectionate,

“ James Wilson.”

THE CLOSE.

344

His work was done. Ever since his severe illness in
the spring of ] 855, owing to the state in which his lungs
were ascertained to be, he evidently knew that his life was
precarious ; and although from consideration for the feel-
ings of those around him, he forbore from saying much
on the subject, by gentle allusions he sought to prepare
their minds for the event which he foresaw could not be
distant. Nor were these' hints the less plain from being
sometimes playfully made. During that spring the Life of
Etty the painter was sent to his house amongst other books,
from the Reading Club ; but so similar were the details of
Etty’s illnesses to the attack under which Mr Wilson was
labouring, that his daughter and niece privately agreed to
return the volumes. However, his interest in art made
him ask for the book. He read it, and, as was expected,
the same thing which had struck his family struck him-
self ; for, as he closed the work, with his quiet smile he
said, “ Poor Etty ! his case seems to have been very like
my own ; asthma, rheumatic gout, and — a niece.”

But even although he had said nothing, the eye of
affection could not fail to mark various indications of his
own presentiment. Not only did he arrange his worldly
affairs, but he shewed more than usual anxiety to bring
to a completion any work he had undertaken. Above
all, there was a deepening earnestness in his allusions to
sacred things, and the Bible, which was laid on his pillow,

LAST COMMUNION.

345

was often, studied during the sleepless watches of the
night.

His journey to Inverness at the close of 1855, and his
visit to London at the beginning of 1856, did not so much
indicate any real convalescence as they shewed how readily
his active spirit forgot the frailties of the frame. He was
an invalid, “feeble and sore broken;” and it was chiefly
his long- confirmed habit of alacrity in the service of others
which carried him through the large amount of work
achieved in the last eighteen months of his assiduous and
benevolent career.

A month before his death he wrote as follows : — “Did

M mention poor A. H ’s death from bilious fever ?

It is very striking so soon after her brother’s. How few
remain now of my own generation ! — of the preceding,
none that I know of. May those in the fore-front of the
battle now make peace upon the sure foundation ! ”

The close of April brought round the communion sea-
son in Edinburgh, and he shewed great anxiety to join
his brethren in commemorating the Saviour’s dying love,
as well as to officiate once more as an elder. His desire
was granted, but at the cost of much suffering. So dis-
tressing was his breathlessness that his friends feared he
would not be able to go through the services of the day ;
and when he returned to his home he quitted it no more,
till he exchanged it for the Father’s house.

346

THE CLOSE.

On the 2d of May, he was unable to leave his room,
nor could he even lie down ; he sat with his head
supported on a table, a position which he was obliged to
retain day and night through the remainder of his illness.
He liked to listen to reading, and often asked to have the
Bible read to him ; but all utterance was attended with
such effort that he seldom attempted more than a few
broken words. On one occasion he said, “ It is not easy
to speak when one is struggling for breath, and feeling as
if about to suffocate ; but I wish you to know that my
mind is perfectly satisfied ; He is my Lord and my God.
‘ Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out/ I
have had much forgiven me, and may well love much.”
He then gave several messages and orders, mentioning
some little memorials which he wished to be given to
several friends. He also expressed a desire to be buried
in the Dean Cemetery, where his brother the Professor had
been buried two years before, adding, in allusion to his
wife’s grave elsewhere, “ The other spot will still be sacred
ground to you/’ Next day when asked how he felt, he
said, “Paint, yet pursuing. Looking unto Jesus.”

His mind continued calm and peaceful to the last.
Even when most exhausted, he was still upon the watch
lest those around him should be over-fatigued, and many
and touching were his expressions of affectionate gratitude.
Amongst the words which fell from his lips are remem-

GONE HOME.

347

bered, “ Christ the hope of glory.” “There is none other
name given under heaven, whereby men can be saved.”
“ Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered
into the heart of man to conceive, the things which G-od
hath prepared for them that love him.” During the
night between Saturday the 17th and Sabbath the 18th
of May, he took leave of his family, saying, “ There is no
darkness in the valley; it is all bright.” The twenty-
third Psalm was read to him, and at the fourth verse he
repeated the words, " I will fear no evil, for thou art with
me ; ” and so, early on that Sabbath morning, the beauti-
ful place which had known him so long, knew him no
more, for he had gone to dwell in the house of the Lord
for ever.

If the foregoing pages have at all answered their pur-
pose, there is no need to conclude with a formal delinea-
tion of Mr Wilson’s character. Its main features can
scarcely be overlooked — its meekness of wisdom, its
warmth of affection, its unostentatious all-comprehending
kindness. And although some of its most exquisite
lineaments can never be described, and will therefore
be no longer remembered when a few faithful memories
have passed away, it is fondly hoped that even this im-
perfect memorial may preserve a few of the lessons of his
history. For ourselves, we confess that we greatly admire

348

THE CLOSE.

those contrasted qualities which, in his happy example,
found themselves in harmony — the scientific accuracy
which neither clogged his excursive imagination, nor
stiffened into academic pedantry ; the fantastic playful-
ness under which, like a deep tide beneath a sunny ripple,
still flowed on his strong affection and his steadfast pur-
pose ; the large amount of work which he contrived to do
with a look of leisure, and almost under the pretext of
recreation ; the freshness of feeling, and the width of
innocent enjoyment, which co-existed with such tender-
ness of conscience and such faith unfeigned. And if
there are some readers exempted from the constraints of
a calling to whom his career, so useful and honourable,
says, “ Go and do likewise ; ” others may find consolation
in those early disappointments which Fatherly Goodness
transformed into eventual blessings, and amidst the clouds
of their morning may still hope and pray for a bright
afternoon and a peaceful evening.

CHAPTER X.

Jfittfs anir fnfeime, §n\ k aitit §n\).

“ ’Tis life, whereof our nerves are scant.

Oh life, not death, for which we pant ;

More life, and fuller, that I want.

— And forth into the fields I went,

A.nd Nature’s living motion lent

The pulse of hope to discontent.” — Tennvsox

“ Leibgeher especially admired in his satirical foster-brother the
diamond-pin which united poetry and mildness with a world-braving
stoicism.” — Kichteu.

/

There is a wicked passage in “ Elia” wliere he says, “ I
have been trying all my life to like Scotchmen, and am
obliged to desist from the experiment in despair. They
cannot like me, and in truth I never knew one of that

nation who attempted to do it His conversation is

as a book. You must speak upon the square with him.
He stops a metaphor like a suspected person in an enemy’s
countiy. Above all, you must beware of indirect expres-
sions before a Caledonian. Clap an extinguisher on your
irony, if you are unhappily blest with a vein of it " And
possibly, for this last insinuation, there may be foundation
in fact : at least, we have often been amused by witness-
ing the effect of the more indirect and subtile kinds of wit
on our sincere and solemn countrymen. Yet, upon occa-
sion, a Scotchman can be merry, and the land which gave
birth to Robert Burns and Harry Erskine, to Andrew
Thomson and Thomas Guthrie, can both produce and
appreciate humour. But it must be admitted that the
humour which suits us best is that sort which possesses a
certain breadth and vigour, and in order to be successful

352 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

amongst so grave a people, sly strokes and “pauky” hits
must be hard enough to penetrate a mail of more than
average thickness. Any frivolous creature can be tickled
with a straw ; it needs a battering ram to shake the sides
of Behemoth.

But the wit of James Wilson was hardly Scottish.
Quite distinct from the rollicking exuberance and con-
tagious glee of Christopher North, as well as from the
diverting drollery of Dr Thomson ; and still more remote
from the coarse buffoonery and caustic malice of Clerk
of Eldin, it was more akin to the easy playfulness of
La Bruy ere, or the quiet, kindly humour which glistens
over the more familiar epistles of William Cowper. Charles
Lamb and James Wilson would have understood each
other.

Such as it was, his wit was inexhaustible. It flowed
like light from the lantern-fly, like the phosphorescence
from a Medusa in a summery sea ; and whether it wan-
dered zigzag like a will o’ the wisp, or settled at the mast-
head like the fire of St Elm — whether it sparkled up in a
pungent and unexpected repartee, or spread out for the
whole evening in a subtile and fantastic aurora, — sponta-
neous and abounding, to restrain it was the effort, to exert
it was none : but, never malignant, it made no enemies
and hurt no feelings, and, under a wise man’s control, it
had the rare excellence of stopping in time.

PLAYFULNESS.

353

"He was the prince of punsters,” as his friend Dr
George Wilson once remarked to us. But what of that ?

^ ho can photograph a flying shot ? or what can be poorer
than a printed pun ?

“ I* 1S veiT difficult,” writes the Duke of Argyll in a
letter of characteristic recollections, "in the form of anec-
dote, to give an impression, to those who did not know
him, of the inimitable fun and light-in-handness of his
conversation ; for it is very rarely that this kind of humour
can bear formal repetition. I recollect one instance of that
humour which much amused those who heard it, connected
with the Fishery question. The subject of fishing for
herring with what are called trawl nets had been under
discussion— whether it was or was not to be considered
as an illegitimate mode of fishing —most of the company
being very adverse to it. The conversation happened to
change suddenly, and a gentleman present speaking of the
health of his wife, who was a great invalid, mentioned
that her room was under a chapel, and, as she was unable
to move, she had a gutta percha pipe carried through the
ceiling to the pulpit, by which means she heard the ser-
mon perfectly. J ames Wilson observed, with the greatest
gravity, that he could not approve of such a proceeding;

‘ it is m fact a kind of trawling for sermons/ The gravity
of his countenance and the tones of his voice were great
elements in the effect which he produced, and these cannot

354< FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

be recalled to strangers. It was on the same occasion that
as ranch amusement was occasioned by an argument he had
with a member of the Peace Society. There being at the
time some rumour of difficulties with Prance, with reference
to the Newfoundland fisheries, the peace-apostle spoke with
horror of ‘ the idea of going to war for some codfish and
Wilson only replied, ‘Very true ; but then ye see they’re
such very (mum) fine codfish.’ His opponent gave up
the argument in despair, and joined very heartily in the
general laugh. But I fear that such recollections as these

do not bear carrying”

In the same way we might mention random instances :
how in regard to a prosing and pedantic entomologist he
remarked, “It explains the saying, ‘The grasshopper shall
be a burden and how, during a severe illness, when a
friend connected with the Stamp Office came to see Mm, and
when some one said, “ Take care, Mr G, where you set your
feet, for there are a good many carpet-nails scattered on
the floor,” Mr Wilson, who was in much distress from
the oppression on his chest, had still breath to say, “ Mr G
will pick them up ; he's a foc&s-gatherer (tax-gatherer).
During one of the Highland excursions, when the party hadi
risen from the hay and were comparing experiences round
the breakfast-table, Martin Barry said, “I was awakened)
by a hen pecking at my ear.” “ No wonder,” retorted M,
Wilson ; “ she mistook it for an ear of Bai ley.

SERIOUSNESS.

355

xeplied Dr Barry, “there is no l in my name.” “'Give
me an inch and I ’ll take the l (ell),” was the ready rejoin-
der. “ But, friend,” urged the Quaker, “ I spell my name
with two r’s” “Really,” rejoined his tormentor, “in a
hen you might excuse the vv (error).”

Blat as are all such sallies when written down, they
were irresistible at the moment ; and it is hardly necessary
to add, that much as he excelled in a jeu des mots, few men
could have less patience with those weariful word-snappers
who, always on the wait for double meanings, will inter-
rupt with wretched puns a conversation to which they
have nothing else to contribute. Even wit itself was far
from being in Mr Wilson’s eyes the best of gifts. He
would have heartily accorded with what Douglas Jerrold
has said m one of his letters to Dickens : “ I am convinced
that the world will get tired (at least I hope so) of this
eternal guffaw at all things. After all, life has something
serious in it. It cannot be all a comic history of humanity.”
Much as he contributed to the amusement of others, Mr
Wilson was himself a grave and earnest man, and even
when he made people smile, he had no wish to make them
frivolous ; nor have we any doubt that a good man’s play-
fulness wiff do more to ' make his neighbours wise and
thoughtful, than a dull man’s solemnity.

From the papers which Mr Wffson contributed to
various journals, a volume or two of miscellanies, at once-

356 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

interesting and instructive, might easily be compiled, and
they would bring out the characteristics of his mind
better than these can be described in any words of ours.
In the meanwhile, as it has been our lot to go over his
very extensive authorship for ourselves, and as we can
scarcely hope that the leisure of many readers will permit
a similar exploration, it may be an acceptable service if
we bead together on one string a few pearls and bits of
amber — a few of his poetic fancies, as well as of those facts
which carry a grotesque idea or good lesson in them.

THE CRABS OF ARRAN.

Although crabs, lobsters, and other edible shell-fish, are
more or less distributed over all parts of the Arran coast,
they are most numerous in the southern district near
Pladda. We remember, during a former visit, bemg
witness to what was to us a novel mode of catching crabs.
We happened to be astir in a small boat in Brodick Bay
about three o’clock one beautiful summer morning. Our
chief object was to watch the soft uprising of those fleecy
folds, voluminous and vast/’ which during early twilight
hours brood over the yet sombre valleys at the base of
Goat-fell, and to watch the rosy tints as they descended

from peak to peak, while

“ Fair Aurora, lifting up her head,

All blushing rose from old Tithonus’ bed.’

CEAB-C ATCHIN G. 357

But we soon perceived two men in a small craft, who
seemed quite unconscious that

The flaming chariot of the world’s great eye ”

was now almost upon them. Their little boat hung
motionless on the then waveless mirror of the Bay, in
about ten feet depth of water ; and after for a minute or
thereby holding their faces close upon the surface, they
seemed suddenly to pull a long pole out of the water, with
something adhering to its extremity. We soon found
that they were taking advantage of the glassy stillness of
the water to overlook the early walk of crabs. They no
sooner saw these crusty crustaceans on the subaqueous
sand, than they looked them behind with their long staves
the crabs turned round to revenge the indignity, and,
like Russian gens-d armes, seized upon the unsuspecting
poles. These latter were slightly shaken by the fishermen,
as if in pain or terror; the angry creatures clung ah the
closer, and were then rapidly hoisted into the boat. The
moial we drew at the time, and have since maintained,
was, that neither crab nor Christian should ever lose his
temper Voyage round Scotland.

* Tins crusty spectacle was probably witnessed on the morning so
beautifully described at page 109. — Ed.

358 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

GULLS VERSUS GOATS.

As we were rowing asliore from the cutter, we observed
a singular kind of encounter on a small island in Loch
Laxford, between a troop of goats and a flock of sea-gulls.
The goats were all as black as pitch, and the old ones
were accompanied by some young retainers, which to us
looked not much bigger than jackdaws, though as nimble
as monkeys. Our notice was first attracted by seeing
some of them descend from their rocky ledges, and gambol
over a piece of green moist meadow ground. They had
not done so, however, for more than a few seconds, before
they were attacked most fiercely by a flock of gulls, which
dived directly down upon them, and each time they did
so the goats made a great spring, as if they found the
horny beaks too much for either their fore or hind quarters.
They were in a regular quandary, or what the Germans
call a ffunke, and it was curious to observe how the gulls
achieved them object, by always keeping the goats between
themselves and the rocks, and thus at last driving them
upwards from the meadow, where, we doubt not, lay them
“ callow young ” — small, soft powder-puffs in woolly gar-
ments, which the horny hoof of kidling might have sorely
incommoded, but for this brave parental interference. So
the goats were gulled, and the gulls not lddnapped.-

The Voyage.

THE STRONG MINISTER.

359

LOCH BROOM,

It appears, possessed a very powerful preacher in the
troublous times of 1745. His proper name was Robert-
son, although he was usually distinguished by the name
of A.11% Ministeir Iciidiv, ’■ or, the Strong Minister.
While present one day during divine service in the church
of Ream, a Gothic kind of building, covered with im-
mense gray flags in place of slates, the roof came sud-
denly down upon the congregation. Mr Robertson
remained upright, and making his way to the principal
door, perceived that the lintel was giving way at one end ;
he instantly placed his shoulder beneath it, and stood in
that supporting position till those who belonged to the
movement party made their escape. He then re-entered
among the crumbling ruins, and extricated his clerical
friend from beneath the sounding-board of the pulpit,
under which he lay ensconced with the addition of a mass
of stones and rubbish. Having afterwards gone to London
on business connected with the politics of the period,
he was introduced to the Duke of Newcastle, who gave
him a fair promise of pardon to one Hector Mackenzie, a
condemned retainer of the Earl of Cromarty. The Duke
on his departing proffered him his hand, which the
Ministeir laidir squeezed with such energy that his
grace reiterated his promise twice over, and the man was

360 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

saved. He (the Minister, not of State, but of Loch Broom)
was once attacked in his own parish by two strong ruffians,
to the child of one of whom he had refused baptism, on
the score of the parent’s unsuitable character and quali-
fications. Finding him at some distance from the manse,
they threateningly renewed their application for the oi di-
nance, which was as resolutely refused, upon which the
fellows laid violent hands upon the pastor, swearing they
would never let him go till he complied. A desperate
struggle ensued, and Donald, perceiving that the minister
was stronger than himself and his neighbour, drew his
dirk, and inflicted a deep wound on Mr Robertson’s right
arm, notwithstanding which he beat them both, and sent
Donald home again to study his catechism. It hap-
pened curiously enough, at an after period, that while
crossing the Thames in a boat, Mr Robertson was assailed
by a stentorian voice from one of the hulks in the river,

“ 0 ! a Mhaisteir Seumas, am bheil thu’ g’am fhagails an

so?” [Oh ! Mr James, are you going to leave me here?]

Recognising instantly the speaker’s voice, he answered,
“Ah! a Dhonuil, bheil cuimhn agad air l’a na biodaig?”

[API Donald, do you remember the day of the dirk?]

This was rather a home-thrust, which the despairing con-
vict tried to parry with, “ Och ! a Mhaisteir Seumas, is ole
an t-aite cuimhnachan so.”— [Oh! Mr James, bad place
for remembrance is this.] And here the conversation

SUMBURGH ROOST.

.361

ceased ; blit the minister, in the true spirit of his holy
calling, lost no time in employing his influence, which
was considerable (he had from the first espoused the Ha-
noverian cause, and been personally serviceable both to
Lord Loudon and President Porbes, on their retreat from
Inverness to the Western Islands, on the return of the
then victorious clansmen from the battle of Palkirk), and
succeeded in obtaining a pardon for his enemy. The
reader will be glad to learn, that after the culprit’s re-
turn to his native country, he commenced and continued
one of the most attached and grateful of his reverend
benefactor’s parishioners.

“ So Donald Dhu, who till that time
Had been the wildest of his clan.

Forsook his crimes, repress’d his folly,

And after ten months’ melancholy,

Became a good and honest man.” — The Voyage.

SUMBURGH ROOST.

When informed by the captain that we were off Sum-
burgh Head, the secretary, in spite of some tremendous
lurches, made his way to the foot of the companion stairs,
the higher portion of which he found blocked by the body
of Jack, the cabin servant, who immediately removed
himself upwards. At this moment a heavy sea struck the
cutter on her weather quarter, and went right over her.

SG2 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

The shock made her lurch so to leeward that an immense
surge came right over the lee gunwale, unceremoniously
meeting the secretary in the face, and washing the afore-
said Jack off his legs. Meanwhile there was a corre-
sponding row below. For ourself, knowing that we could
in no way alter or amend the state of matters either by
speech or action, we continued in a state of complacent,
or at least uncomplaining repose. But an acquaintance
in the after-cabin, connected with the Fishery service, be-
came alarmed by the concussions which were taking place
around. He was just about to spring from his berth,
when unfortunately a large bag of potatoes, which had
been somewhat hastily stowed away in his too near neigh-
bourhood, suddenly opened its mouth, and after gaping
at him for a couple of seconds, discharged its entire con-
tents with angry violence on his unoffending person.
However, he extricated himself with inconceivable rapidity,
and made his appearance in dishabille to inquire into the
cause of such contentious doings.

“ He tax’d not you, ye elements, with unkindness ;

He never gave you kingdoms, called ye daughters ; ”

but he thought that Jack ought to have turned the key of
the potato store. We ourselves, inhabiting the main-cabin,
escaped with a bottle of ink upon the bedclothes, while
Mackenzie’s Charts, an excellent work in three volumes
elephant folio, flew across the cabin like so many butter-

BIRCH-WOOD BOBBINS.

363

flies, but fortunately falling rather short of our position,
made harmless obeisance at our feet. It is possible that
the sea would not have been shipped had the man at the
helm manoeuvred more skilfully, but at the same time we
would strongly advise all those who desire to prolong the
peaceful pleasure of a morning nap, to avoid perching in
Sumburgli Eoost. — The Voyage.

THE BIRCH FOREST MADE INTO BOBBINS.

We were somewhat surprised to find a bobbin manu-
factory about to be established here [Port Sunart]. The
proprietor of the woods, as we were told, has agreed to de-
liver his birches at the mill door for seven shillings a ton.
This seems a low price, but whether the bargain may be
good or bad, it is a melancholy and fantastic thought to
dwell on, that these fair woods, cut into pieces of a few
square inches, are so soon to be set a- whirling amid the
ceaseless din and flocky atmosphere of a cotton mill in
Glasgow. “Everything is beautiful in its season/’ as
O’Connell said to the curds and cream, and cotton mills
are extremely useful in their way, — but whoever may
have seen, as we did, the splendid crags, and the fair
silvery stems of that

“Most beautiful of forest trees,
The lady of the woods,"

364 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

might have almost consented to go with undamed stockings
for a month, sooner than that the insidious substance
should be wound around their very hearts. Besides, if
Bobbin & Co. have made too good a bargain, the greater
is the pity that such fringing woods should be despoiled
even to the laying bare of old majestic mountains, while
the proprietor, whatever may be made of cotton, is himself
worsted. — The Voyage.

Our next extracts from “The Voyage” let us a little
deeper into the heart of the writer. In them we have
glimpses of his love of home, his faithfulness to old friend-
ships, his piety, his admiration of all goodness.

ORCADIAN LINNETS.

Close to either side of the southern end of the bridge
which leads across to the northern promontory stands a
great sentinel stone, as if the remains of a gateway or
barrier. On the top of one of these a beautiful pair of
linnets sat twittering and preening, secure as they thought
upon almost the loftiest elevation which the neighbourhood
afforded, and of course we did nothing to scare them from
their stony height. They seemed quite tame, and very
cheerful, as linnets are wont to be. We could see their
little sparkling eyes and sharpened beaks, and we thought

THE LINNETS.

365

of our own Unties at home, and of the door at which they
hang in sunny days, and of all that there go in and out,
and for a time the dread worship of the Druids, and the
cruel sacrifices of the sons of Odin, and the fierce conten-
tions of the Sea-Kings, and even the actual presence of
these mystical symbols of “ the unknown God,” all faded
from our view ; and we could see a low-roofed cottage,
with leafy windows and an intertwining porch, and nume-
rous shrubs and trees, and winding walks and many-
coloured wreaths of “bright consummate flowers,” and
human hearts affectionate and true, and we blessed God
for all His mercies. — The Voyage.

A SABBATH AT IONA.

It was the Sabbath morn, but the church service not
being expected to commence for several hours, we thought
the time in no way misspent in landing to meditate among
the tombs. It is certainly, however, one disadvantage of
the life we were at this time leading, that any regular
attendance on stated ordinances can scarcely be relied
on, so much in some respects are we at the mercy of
winds, tides, and lee-shores, and are thus too frequently
obliged to shape our course accordingly ; but our private
services are performed on board with regularity, and it is
hoped we all know and remember, that wherever we be,

366 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

the same heavenly guidance is vouchsafed to those who
seek it, and thus, though we “take the wings of the
morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even
there shall Thy hand lead us, and Thy right hand shall hold
us.” The greater disadvantage is, perhaps, that of the
sailors, with whom this erratic mode of life is so much
more frequent and prolonged, but they seem always well
disposed to take advantage of whatever opportunities
occur ; and we have endeavoured to occupy their leisure
hours on ship-board beneficially, by placing expositions
of the great Christian doctrines in their hands in various
forms.

It was not without a mournful feeling that we found
ourselves again among these venerable ruins. It had been
our fortune to visit Iona many long years ago, with a
young enthusiastic German, who has since, “ spurning the
unprofitable yoke of care,” attained a name of note in the
literature of his country, and we now thought of bygone
times more than became the interest of the sacred scene
around us. It is probably one source of the confusion of
misty minds like our own, that the suggestive principle
should often be so strong within us as to cause the past
alone to b'e seen through the present, while the present is
only dimly caught during some distant future. At all
events, we now found ourselves insensibly reverting to-
wards early days, when the sun was brighter, and the

A SABBATH IN IONA.

367

grass greener, the waves more lustrous, arid the mountains
far more magnificent than they have ever been in these
degenerate times.

“ Then did no ebb of cheerfulness demand
Sad tides of joy from melancholy’s hand.”

But, indeed, when we looked along the silent shore, and
beheld the memorials of other days, and the many mourn-
ful emblems of decay and desolation which lay so thick
aiound, what marvel was there that Time’s mutations,
and that heritage of woe, of which sooner or later all must
be partakers, should have changed or chilled a feeble
human heart. — The Voyage.

ST HILDA AND ITS MINISTER.

The day was yet in its prime, a lustrous summer day
which might have gilded the palm-crowned glories of an
Indian isle. The sky was bright above, and the great
ocean heaved around us with a motion so subdued and
gentle, that our hearts might have filled with “joy and
gladness, were it not that the spirit of melancholy seems
never far distant from what is at once so solemn and
serene. In truth, the finger of God was in all things
more visible than the hand of man, and as we glided
through the “great waters/’ we strongly felt the grandeur
of “His wonders in. the deep.” Therefore was our cheer-

368 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

fulness almost changed into reverential awe, as we gazed
around on all the “ dread magnificence” by which we
were encompassed, for we felt as if we had entered into
one of the great temples of the God of Nature ! And if
a scene which, however majestic, was still “of the earth,
and destined to pass away, could create such elevating
thoughts ; to what height, past utterance, will not an en-
trance raise us into that house not made with hands,
eternal in the heavens,” where no storms nor tempests
rage, either in the scowling sides or the far darker bitteier
heart of man, but an everlasting joyfulness prevails, “as
the angels in heaven

Caverns prevail along the bases of these pondeious
cliffs, and one of the most remarkable of those on the
southern side is that named Damph-an-Eiranich, so called
from the fact which follows. An Irishman was crossing
an inlet of his own green isle, with a keg of whisky, to
make merry with his father and other friends one Christ-
mas morning, but being carried out to sea by a squall, he
was driven he knew not where, till he found himself at
the mouth of a cave in St Kilda. He was descried by the
natives from the cliffs, who at first entertained a super-
stitious fear of an individual who they thought must have
either dropt from the clouds, or risen from the sea ; but so
soon as they perceived his boat, they lowered their ropes,
and drew him up, when he was almost gone from want.

THE PASTOR OF ST HILDA.

369

He remained with, them for about a year, before an oppor-
tunity occurred of his being conveyed to his own country.

As it was now the close of day we did not land again,
but sent our good minister ashore in the boat. We could
then observe that almost the entire population of the
island was assembled to receive him at the landing-place,
and orn men told us that it seemed a truly happy meeting.
He himself had greatly enjoyed his little cruise from home
of nearly two days and a night ; and the Soa-side of St
Hilda he had never before seen from the sea. We our-
selves were much gratified by all we saw and heard, and
will long cherish the recollection of scenes which made a
deep impression upon our minds, however feebly we may
have conveyed it to those of others. Our acquaintance
with Mr Mackenzie was also a source of great satisfaction,
and we hope for its renewal at some future time. There
is something, we think, very solemn and even elevating in
the idea of that person’s position, humble and almost for-
lorn though it may seem. Separated so entirely from the
world, with not a single native on the island who can
enter into any community of subjects with him, so far as
relates to the ordinary topics which occupy the minds of
other men, or to those unforgotten though departed periods
of his own earlier life to which in secret he cannot help
reverting, his thoughts must become disentangled from
many frivolous and vain expectations and pursuits by which

370 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

those of others are so often “ disquieted within them :
and so turning from a world which he cannot reach, and
has ceased to desire, what in exchange does he seek for ?
He goes up to the mountain of the Lord, to the “ House
of the God of Jacob ; ” and so his barren rock, with all
its bitter endurances, when softened by a Saviours love,
is made to yield that fountain of sweet water which
springe th up into eternal life, and thus he finds rest unto
his soul. What, then, to him are the howling tempests, or
the ragings of the winter sea, as it rolls its tumultuous
waves in vain though dread array around those lonesome
dwellings ? Why should he encourage vexing thoughts,
or any “fearful looking forward,” who possesses “the
peace of God, which passeth understanding?” Hoes he
not daily behold, in congregated myriads, those “fowls of
the air” which sow not, neither reap, nor gather into
bams, though “their heavenly Father feedeth them?”
Therefore he takes no thought, saying, “What shall we
eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewithal shall we be
clothed ? ” for his heavenly Father knoweth that he hath
need of all these things, and “He is faithful who

promised.” — The Voyage.

\

COLONSAY.

The weather unfortunately now became more moist and
dull, but although we know not the number of long years

OLD FEIENDS WITH HEW FACES.

371

of mingled joy and sorrow which may have passed away
since our last visit, we had no difficulty in recognising, in
spite of mist and vapour, many an old familiar scene. It
often happens that a few repeated persevering looks at
what were once familiar places, have much the same effect
as clearing away the moss and lichens which encrust an
ancient tomb-stone, or rubbing the rust from off some old
time-honoured coin. All that was dim, or even dead, in
our remembrance, gains gradually increase of strength
till at last the sad waters of oblivion roll slowly back-
wards, and sunny scenes of youth or early manhood are
brought to view in all their original brightness. So is it
also with the well-remembered aspect of a much-loved,
long-lost friend, — some one in whom a score of years
(and no furlough) beneath a burning clime has changed
the fair fresh hue of youth to that of the Nabob’s hoarded
gold, and has grizzled redundant locks once glossy as the
raven’s wing. The gay and limber youth, as wild with
glee as any mountain fawn, can scarcely at first be recog-
nised in the staid features and somewhat sombre bearing
of the highly respectable middle-aged gentleman (retired
upon a good allowance, and not without thought of the
East India direction), who unexpectedly presents himself
before you, under an old familiar name. And yet before
the first cheerful evening you spend together has elapsed,
the voice, the eye, the manner, mode of speech, the very

372

FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

hair (even though it should afterwards prove a wig), return
upon you as those of the self-same friend who gladdened
the glory of your morning life with unalloyed affection,
and before you part he not only seems in everything to
be exactly as he was of old, but has also become one of
the youngest men, except yourself, you ever met with-

The Voyage.

THE SARDINIAN SHEEP AND THE SAVANT.

M. F. Cuvier records an instance of what he regards as
extreme stupidity on the part of these animals. Such as
live in the Garden of Plants are exceedingly fond of bread,
and when any one approaches their barrier, they draw
near with a view to obtain it. This device is frequently
made use of to entrap them, so as to enable their keeper
to fasten collars around their necks, to prevent accidents
previous to any one entering their domiciles; and although
they seem exceedingly tormented and unhappy when thus
held in bondage, they never acquire, from experience, suf-
ficient sagacity to mistrust the collar which they see held
in one hand if there is a slice of bread in the other.
They are, in short, unable to combine their ideas in such
a manner as to connect the collar with their captivity ;
and the younger Cuvier consequently holds them in some
contempt. Now, we feel rather inclined to advocate the
cause of the mouflon, and, without doubting that M.

THE CIRCUMVENTED SHEEP. 373

F. Cuvier, from his long-continued experience as director
of the Parisian Menagerie, will continue, by some means
or other, to circumvent the most sagacious sheep that ever
enters the capital of the great nation, we yet cannot see,
in the fact recorded, anything more than another fact
easily evoked fiom it, viz., that the animal in question had
so familiarised itself with man, as to feel the desire of
obtammg a favourite morsel more strongly than the fear
of disagreeable consequences. There is no “ bread at dis-
cretion" among the mountains of Sardinia; and more
intellectual creatures have suffered from their love of good
cheer. Quarterly Journal of Agriculture.

AN APOLOGY FOE INSECTS.

If the value of a pursuit is to be estimated by the com-
parative ease with which it may be followed by persons of
the most moderate fortunes, few can rank higher than
entomology. While the specimens sought for by the
mineralogist and student of geology are frequently heavy
and cumbrous, and not seldom extremely expensive, and
while that sad representative of the beauties of the living
Flora, called a Hortus Siccus, is but a frail and fleeting
memorial of the “days of other years," presenting, even
after a tedious and troublesome process of preservation
(by courtesy so called), no trace of their original bright-

374 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

ness ; the most exquisite examples of entomological
beauty, if not too roughly handled at the period of theii
capture, remain, with the most ordinary attention, for a life-
time in their pristine state, — and what that state actually is,
all may satisfy themselves in the course even of the most
superficial examination, —

“ For nature here

Wantons as in her prime, and plays at will

Her virgin fancies.”

Exceeding in amount of species all the other subjects of
zoology, — unrivalled in the dazzling brilliancy of their
colours, which combine the clearness and decision of tint
possessed by flowers, with the exquisitely varied markings
of the feathered race and the metallic splendour of the
mineral kingdom, — surpassed by no other work of crea-
tion in the wonderful structure of their parts, and certainly
surpassing all in the adaptation of that structure to
the perfect fulfilment of those natural, though to us
still mysterious instincts, which in every age have excited
the admiration of mankind,— is it to be wondered at that
the study of insects should occupy a prominent place in
our pursuit of knowledge? Much more do we wonder
that thousands of the best educated, and in other respects
most enlightened minds, should still feel averse to a study
which unfolds such a world of unseen wonders. The sub-
ject, too, is literally inexhaustible; and while some who love

INSECTS.

375

to methodise, and thereby to circumscribe, the subjects of
human knowledge, or who err in their estimate of the
perceptive powers of the human mind as applied to other
matters of inquiry, may be deterred by the vague boun-
daries of such a field, a greater number, and with more
piopiiety it is hoped, may be induced to enter it, from the
veiy consideration of such a rich and unreajjed harvest.
While a fragment of inert matter, which chemical analysis
determines to differ in its constituent proportions from
other fragments previously examined, is once in a lustre
dignified by the name of a new species, and the name of
a Haiiy or a Dolomieu is bestowed on the unconscious
mass,— and while, even in the richer domain of British
botany, the student of that science, however much he may
extend our knowledge of the localities of plants, labours
with but a feeble chance of adding to the actual list even
of indigenous species, and has probably no chance at all
of ever refreshing his eyes with the sight of a plant which
nobody ever saw before,— it is far otherwise with the
innumerable tribes of insect life. The “gilded summer-
flies ” are numerous as leaves in Vallombrosa. No recess
of the forest so obscure but there the “winged messengers ”
are seen to sport q,nd play ; and each summer sunbeam
falls not alone on the dewy herbage of the open glades,
but lights up the gorgeous lines of those bright creatures
which a mystical philosophy has ennobled as the types of

37G FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

the disencumbered human soul, and which even the
sombre Dante has named angelical.

“ Non v’accorgete voi, che noi siam vermi,

Nati a formal’ l’angelica farfalla.”

Every pool of water is pregnant with life ; each lonely

moor or old deserted quarry, which scarcely “ feels in its

barrenness one touch of spring,” is the chosen abode of

thousands of living creatures, of small dimensions it is

true, but of singular beauty, both of form and structure,

and often adorned with hues

“ Which make the rose’s blush of beauty pale,

Anri dim the rich geranium’s scarlet blaze.”

Even the pastoral melancholy of the green mountains is
enlivened by the occurrence of many interesting species.
One of the most beautiful of European coleopterous
insects ( Carabus nitens ) occurs among the peat hags, and
other places where heath and turf abound, and where
its sparkling coat of gold and green, tinged with a brightei
lustre than that of rubies, is singularly contra, sted with
the blackness of the soil in which it seems imbedded.
Encyclopcedia Britannica, Art. Entomology .

THE SILK-WORM.

Had these insignificant secreting organs not existed in
the silk-worm, or other allied species, what a difference of

SILK-WORMS.

377

character would have been manifested in the lustrous
aspect of baronial halls, and even of the courts of kings !
It is curious, indeed, to consider how the breeding of a
few millions of caterpillars should occasion such a dis-
parity at different times in the circumstances of different
tribes of the human race. When the wife and empress
of Aurelian was refused a garment of silk, on account of
its extreme costliness, the most ordinary classes of the
Chinese were clad in that material from top to toe ; and
although among ourselves week-day and holiday are now
alike profaned by uncouth forms, whose vast circumference
is clothed “in silk attire/' yet our own James the Sixth
was forced to borrow a pair of silken hose from the Earl
of Mar, that his state and bearing might be more effective
in the presence of the Ambassador of England, — “for ye
would not, sure," said the royal pedant, “ that your king
should appear as a scrub among strangers." — Encyclopcedia
Britctnnica, Art. Entomology.

THE RED-BREAST.

The red-breast is perhaps the most beloved of British
birds, and is remarkable for its combination of familiarity
and independence. When left to its “ own sweet will," it
enters houses freely in cold or snowy weather, will perch
night after night on corniced book-case, or seek rejjose

378 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY*.

upon the golden scallop of a picture frame ; hut it hates
all forwardness in others, and will not voluntarily come in
contact with any hand, however beautiful. It hops de-
lighted, singing as it goes with low and plaintive note,
along the comfortable carpet, or, darting up suddenly
towards the window-frame, will utter a louder gush of
angrier melody on seeing some orange-breasted brother,
perched on leafless spray, still braving the increasing dark-
ness. For a time, just before nightfall, he seems himself
to suffer from some uneasy instinct, or probably desires,
from habit, to secure his usual perch in old fantastic yew
or thick-screened holly ; but, on second thoughts, he soon
assumes some quiet corner, above the reach of curious
children’s hands. Not seldom, when the evening fire
burns brightest, he descends on muffled wing, his large
and liquid eye dilated less with fear than quiet wonder,
and after a brief survey, he re-ascends his place of safety.
Although this bird remains about our doors throughout
the summer, building near out-houses and in orchards,
yet

“ Some red-breasts love amid tbe deepest groves
Retired to pass the summer days. Their song
Among the birchen boughs, with sweetest fall
Is warbled, pausing,— then resumed more sweet,

More sad, that to an ear grown fanciful,

The babes, the wood, the men, rise in review,

And robin still repeats the tragic line.”

We have a notion, that in Scotland the female red-breast

MATERNAL AFFECTION.

379

is migratory. At least, in the vicinity of Edinburgh, we
recognise her not throughout the long-enduring winter. —
Encyclopedia Britannica, Art. Ornithology.

THE HEN AND HER BROOD.

Who knows not (now divinely told) how the hen doth
gather her brood beneath her wings ; how she shelters
them from the chill of the morning and the dews of night,
expanding her downy breast and feathery pinions, till she
becomes a populous tabernacle, a living temple of maternal
love, beset with small protruding bills, and bright but
gentle eyes ; how she will dare, with upraised ruffled
plumes, the fiercest onset of the direst foe : — the callous
schoolboy with his threatening club, the snarling cur-clog
with his ivory fangs, the insidious weasel, creeping so
serpent-like through tangled herbage, or the bolder bird
of prey, “ lord of the lion heart and eagle eye,” descending
swift and sure like thunder-bolt from heaven. What
are each or all of these in dread array, with death itself, to
her, at other times a fearful creature, but now pervaded
by the deep intensity of mother love ! — Illustrations of
Scripture.

380 FACTS AND INFERENCES, CRAVE AND GAY.

WATERFALLS.

Another charming characteristic of Norway is the
sparkling abundance of running waters, — its noble rivers

and impressive falls forming, perhaps, the finest of its

/

features. Our chief objection to waterfalls in our own
country is, that during the summer season of research in
that department they generally contain no water. The
traveller may be inundated for many a moist and misty
week among the mountains, but when he comes to some
great rocky chasm famed for its cataract, he seldom sees
anything but gray and ghastly crags, silent as death, or
shedding a few sad tears in memory of more jovial (Jupiter
pluvialis) days and nights gone by.

“ The sounding cataract haunted him like a passion/’
is the great Laker’s account of one who may have carried
cascade-hunting to excess, and was morbidly affected
thereby. If made the exclusive object of a journey, it
seldom fails to produce disappointment, and the mind,
keeping itself as it were shut up from other and far finer
things which are beautiful upon the mountains and clothe
the earth as with a garment, allows itself to be cheated by
the indulgent expectancy of that deafening wonder. The
cataract is also a very cold place for a pic-nic for any but
a party of the most determined teetotallers, and even
they frequently feel it too much for them, and sometimes

NORWEGIAN CATARACTS.

381

require to be actually carried home — such is the force and
efficiency of strong waters. In a very sultry and else-
where airless day, the undulations of the atmosphere,
and the mist-like showers of broken spray, are most
refreshing ; but there is almost always a deficiency of good
grassy slopes on which to lay ourselves out reposingly,
like ancient Homans, and foolish young people are ever
and anon making still more foolish old ones cry out
screechingly, by “going too near the edge,” or standing
on picturesque perching places, where men and maidens
love to congregate, “and dally with the wind and scorn
the sun/’ We quite agree with Professor Forbes, that
small watei falls, un thought of till discovered by one’s
self, and enjoyed by not more than two at a time, are, on
the whole, the best. You feel a pleasant and not unjusti-
fiable pride in your position, and believe for the time that
it is unknown to all the world but yourselves; and so
those silvery streamlets, in their “innocent brightness,”
often convey a higher and more vivid sense of beauty, and
produce a more pleasing impression, than do the awful
and gigantic gorges where resound the dreadful voices of
the sons of thunder. Now, Norway abounds in cataracts
of every kind, beyond all calculation, and hence its charm.
— North British Review, vol. xxi.

382 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

SIMPSON’S PERSUADER.

We have ourselves invented some of the best loch-trout
flies now in use, although we don’t desire to dwell much
on that matter. It is a good, if not a great thing to be
modest as well as meritorious; but we cannot refrain
from here alluding to our latest and not least ingenious
application of science to art, in the way of a ground-bait.
This consists of a small pellet, used like a salmon-roe,
with which it may be intermingled, and made of chloro-
form paste. We name it “ Simpson’s Persuader ” in honour
of an Edinburgh professor, who has successfully intro-
duced the use of chloroform into other arts than those of
angling. A trout no sooner takes one of these pellets into
its mouth than it falls into a sweet sleep, and may be
instantly drawn ashore and put to death without its know-
ing anything more about it. We expect a first-class medal
from the " Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Ani-
mals/’ and surely deserve it far more than do long-winded
wearisome clergymen their J?10 a-piece, for inflicting on
their fellow-creatures the annual Gibsonian sermon on
the subject. — North British Review , vol. viii.

THE DODO.

[One of Mr Wilson's most amusing papers appeared in
Blackwood's Magazine for January 1849. It was a

THE DODO.

383

review of his friend Mr Strickland's work on “ The Dodo
and its Kindred." Amidst its pleasantry and waggish-
ness, it abounds in information.]

What was the Dodo ? when was the Dodo ? where
is the Dodo ? are all questions, the first more especially,
which it is fully more easy to ask than answer. Whoever
has looked through books on natural history — for example,
that noted but now scarce instructor of our early youth,
the “ Three Hundred Animals" — must have observed a
somewhat ungainly creature, with a huge curved bill, a
shortish neck, scarcely any wings, a plumy tuft upon the
back — considerably on the off-side, though pretending to
be a tail — and a very shapeless body, extraordinarily large
and round about the hinder end. This anomalous animal
being covered with feathers, and having, in addition to
the other attributes above referred to, only two legs, has
been, we think justly, regarded as a bird, and has accord-
ingly been named the Dodo. But why it should be so
named is another of the many mysterious questions which
require to be considered in the history of this unaccount-
able creature. No one alleges, nor can we conceive it
possible, that it claims kindred with either of the only
two human beings we ever heard of who bore the name : —
“ And after him (Adino the Eznite) was Eleazar the son
of Dodo, the Ahohite, one of the three mighty men with

384 FACTS AND INFEEENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

David, when they defied the Philistines that were there
gathered together to battle, and the men of Israel were
gone away.” Our only other human Dodo belonged to
the fair sex, and was the mother of the famous Zoroaster,
who flourished in the days of Darius Hystaspes, and
brought back the Persians to them ancient fire-worship,
from the adoration of the twinkling stars. The name
appears to have been dropped by both families, as if they
were somewhat ashamed of it ; and we feel assured that
of such of our readers as admit that Zoroaster must have
had a mother of some sort, very few really remember now-
a-days that her name was Dodo. There were no baptismal
registers in those times; or if such existed, they were
doubtless consumed in the ‘ great fire ’ — a sort of periodi-
cal, it may be providential, mode of shortening the record,
which seems to occur from time to time in all civilised
countries.

RACES LATELY EXTINGUISHED.

Several local extinctions of elsewhere existing races
are known to naturalists — such as those of the beaver, the
bear, and the wolf, which no longer occur in Great Britain.
Their extinction was slow and gradual, and resulted
entirely from the inroads which the human race made
upon their numbers. The beaver might have carried on
business well enough, in his own quiet way, although

EACES DYING OUT.

385

frequently incommoded by tbe love of peltry on the part
of a bat-wearing people ; but it is clear that no man with
a small family and a few respectable farm-servants, could
either permit a large and hungry wolf to be continually
peeping at midnight through the key-hole of the nursery,
or allow a brawny bruin to snuff too frequently under
the kitchen door (after having hugged the watch-dog to
death) when the servant-maids were at supper. The
extirpation, then, of at least two of those quondam Bri-
tish species became a work of necessity and mercy, and
might have been tolerated even on a Sunday between
sermons — especially as naturalists have it still in their
power to study the habits of similar wild beasts, by no

means yet extinct, in the neighbouring countries of Trance
and Germany.

But the death of the Dodo and its kindred is a more
affecting fact, as involving the extinction of an entire race,
root and branch, and proving that death is a law of the

species, as well as of the individuals which compose it

although the life of the one is so much more prolonged
than that of the other that we can seldom obtain any
positive proof of its extinction, except by the observance
of geological eras. Certain other still existing species,
well known to naturalists, may be said to be, as it were,
just hovering on the brink of destruction. One of the
largest and most remarkable of herbivorous animals — a

2 B

386 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

species of wild cattle, the aurochs or European bison (B.
prisons) — exists now only in the forest of Bialowicksa,
from whence the Emperor of Russia has recently trans-
mitted a living pair to the Zoological Society of London.
Several kinds of birds are also evidently on their last legs.
For example, a singular species of parrot (Nestor pro-
ductus), with the termination of the upper mandible much
attenuated, peculiar to Phipps’s Island, near Norfolk
Island, has recently ceased to exist there in the wild state,
and is now known as a living species only from a few
surviving specimens kept in cages, and which refuse to
breed. The burrowing parrot from New Zealand is
already on the road to ruin ; and more than one species
of that singular and wingless bird, called Apteryx, also
from the last-named island, may be placed in the same
category. Even in our own country, if the landed pro-
prietors were to yield to the clamour of the Anti-Game-
Law League, the red grouse or moor-game might cease to
be, as they occur nowhere else on the known earth save
in Britain and the Emerald Isle. — Blackwood's Magazine,
1849.

METALLIC LUSTRE IN ANIMALS.

We may here say a few words regarding the occurrence
of this so-called metallic lustre throughout the general
range of the animal kingdom, including therein that per-

THE LUSTRE OF LIVING THINGS.

387

pendicular biped— the lord of the creation. Many people
are rich in gold and silver— and not a few abound in
bia.ss but, notwithstanding the received name of “ Copper
Indians, no man, not even an American, has in his own
proper person— and barring the buttons— a metallic lustre.
Among the other tribes of the mammalia that lustre is
extremely rare. At present we can recall only a single
instance in which it is exhibited— that of the chrysochlore,
or Cape mole, of which a portion of the fur is radiant with
reflections of a green and copper colour. Throughout the
ornithological kingdom this peculiar adornment is not
unfrequent, as — “On the wings of a dove covered with
silver, and her feathers with yellow gold/’ It is also very
striking among some birds allied to the thrushes ; is well
known to invest a great portion of the peacock as in
a kingly coat-of-mail ; but is most sumptuously mani-
fested among the many exquisite forms of the Trochilidse.
In -the descending scale the next great class is that of
fishes ; and, truly, amid the great waters we behold the
wonderful works of the Lord. When we consider the
obscurity in which at a certain depth of ocean all things
are enshrouded, it is surprising to perceive so much em-
blazoned lustre emerging from the sunless deep, where
no human eye can ever behold its beauty. But so it is.
There are few created things more resplendent than many
of the southern fishes, among which all metallic splendour

388 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

is combined with, the milder effulgence of the hues of
flowers, the whole harmonising with a chaste fulness of
effect which Titian and Rubens might envy, but could
never equal. For what reason, it has been asked, has all
this lavish adornment been bestowed on creatures which,
as we suppose, can scarcely discern each other amid the
dim perpetual twilight of the deep? ££ There are more
things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our
philosophy.” Does not the same Shakspearian observation
apply with equal truth to ££ the waters beneath the earth ? ”
Among the countless tribes of insects we have also
innumerable examples of this bright effulgence in its
highest state. The ££ Diamond Beetle” ( Entimus im-
perials) is richly inlaid with all precious gems; and
many butterflies are emblazoned with gold and silver.
No mention need be made of shells. Even among the
still lowlier forms of worms or vermes {Annelida) we
find the golden aphrodyte, a slug-like creature, partially
covered by silky hair of bright metallic lustre, varying as
the play of light falls on it through the wavering and
translucent sea. — Excelsior , vol. ii.

FARMERS AND FISHERMEN.

t

“ The weary ploughman plods his homeward way,”

but seldom fails to find it. The

" Swinked hedger at his supper sits,”

FARMERS AND FISHERMEN.

389

ancl soft is the mossy bank beneath him, and sweet the
air around, redolent with the balmy breath of flowers, and
filled with the melody of birds singing their evening hymn.
How rarely does the extinction of life from other than
natural causes overtake these dwellers on the land, com-
pared with the frequent fate of those who do business in
the great waters ! How astounded would be the natives of
our inland vales, and the shepherds on a thousand hills, if
ever and anon their hitherto steadfast and enduring boun-
daries were rent by earthquakes, and, literally “adding
field to field,” one fine piece of pasture was lifted up and
laid upon another, entombing for ever alike the corn and
its cultivators, the shepherds and their sheep. No very
pleasant greetings in the market-place would ensue among
the grain-merchants, wool-growers, and cattle-dealers,
when the morning’s news might chance to be — that the
Lammermoors had subsided 1500 feet, and were entirely
under water; that “ Eildon’s triple height” had been
turned over, peaks downmost ; that the debris of Penicuik
was scattered over the vestiges of Peebles ; and that the
good town of Dalkeith was lying (its fine body of militia-
men fast fossilising) at the bottom of a coal-pit. Yet
equally disastrous, though not quite similar, calamities
not unfrequently befall those whose precarious lot it is to
cultivate the sea. — Blackwood' s Magazine, March 1856.

390 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

MARE MORTUUM.

There is another loch near these two (Loch Achilty
and Loch Borley), which contains neither trout nor char,
and as a fact of this kind is not at once instinctively
discovered by the angler, and was not previously com-
municated to us, we fished it for half a day with more
skill than success. Our movements were steadily watched
the whole time by a south-country shepherd, who, rolled
up in his plaid, his dog Yarrow close beside him, and both
beneath the cosy shelter of a whin dyke, seemed curious
to ascertain how long we would continue our attempt at
sjiort. When at last, despairingly, we turned us homewards
a hospitable and most pleasing home was Mrs Scobie’s
and near ed our pastoral friends couched in their “ sunny
laii, the “human, without moving either head or heel,
diawled out as follows : — “ Ye ’ll no hae killed mony trouts
there ? ” “ No, we ’ve had no sport at all.” “ Na, na, it ’s

weel kent there was never a trout in that loch frae the
beginnin o’ the creation.” He thus possessed the key to
our discomfiture ; but from some unknown silential prin-
ciple, on which we have since deeply pondered but failed
to ascertain, he had declined, or at least delayed, to reveal
the secrets of that dark abyss. However, we consoled
ourselves with the " experientia docet ” of Dr Buddiman,

MULTIPLYING AND MAGNIFYING POWERS. 391

and philosophically repeated as we travelled across those
breezy uplands —

“ Happy the man who, studying nature’s laws,

From known effects can trace the secret cause.”

— The Bod and the Gwn.

EXAGGERATION.

We do not here desire to dwell upon that painful
portion of the character of certain anglers — of whom
the present reader is not one — which induces them to
magnify their captures both in size and number. We
have met with many men who never killed a trout under
a pound weight, even by accident, and who never angle
for an hour or two before breakfast or after lunch — this
is their easy tooth-pick way of talking — without luring
to destruction several dozens. We know that we dined
lately in company — a person can’t always choose his
friend’s companions — with one of these same boasters,
who told the frequent tale of weight and number. Of
the latter we were somewhat careless, but curious ex-
ceedingly about the former, because, for a special purpose,
we were anxious to obtain that very night a well-sized
trout. We asked if he had brought his finny captures
home beneath the roof where we were then rejoicing? —
the answer, “ To be sure.” Feeling ourselves at ease, and
receiving an approving nod from our hospitable host —

392. FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

lnraself a single-minded man, as full of truth as two eggs
—we rang the bell, and desired an agreeable looking
footman “to please to pick” from the different panniers
a few of the largest trouts which had been captured
during that blessed day. He speedily returned, bearing
a splendid assiette of China's purest clay — our friend is
rather proud of his eastern ware, and his old housekeeper
knows that failing well— with slant-eyed Mandarins, then-
pipe in hand, small-footed damsels drinking from cups
that cheer but not inebriate, bridges high in air, and
swallows and summer-houses mingling together in the
clouds ; but for the “ take of trouts,” oh ! what a falling-
off was there, my countrymen ! Where were the couple-
of-pounders now ? There were a few of three-quarters of
a pound, (and pretty fish these same,) ascertained, however,
by a red thread through their gills, to have been caught
by a highly respectable and very round-faced clergyman
of the Episcopal persuasion, who, silent though not unseen,
was sipping some light summer tipple, and holding the
long slender stalk of a rather large yet delicate thin-edged
glass so neatly in his small white hand, that we had
known for several hours he was an angler ; thus proving
how a naturalist, by the observance of a seemingly unim-
portant attribute of the outer man, may throw a flood of
light upon his prevailing character and disposition. It
did not appear, however, that the braggart himself could

CAUTION TO BOASTEES.

393

identify with certainty a single parr, of which a few had
been slily placed upon the platter by some observant
valet down below, probably as a memento to him whose
bark had been so much more powerful than his barb.
Now, we give him due warning, that if he does not mend
his manners, restrict his imagination, and study the specific
weight, dimensions, and amount of the few small fishes
he may chance to capture, we shall publish his name in
the Gazette, with no delay and less remorse, as an en-
sample to all who cast a stain upon our innocent craft, by
having thus

“ Foregone the home delight of constant truth,

And clear and open soul, so prized in fearless youth.”

— The Rod and the Gun.

WALTONIAN MUSINGS.

Let all innocent amusements be sought after with
assiduity and gladness, if in due subordination to more
pressing or important duties ; and especially, with never-
ceasing reference to the great Giver of all earthly bless-
ings, of which a tranquil and contented disposition is the
chief. Let the angler in the midst of all his light amuse-
ment remember to what high and holy calling his ancient
predecessors were promoted, and so walk

“ As ever in his great Taskmaster’s eye,”

though casting not his nets by Galilean shore. When

39 4 FACTS AND INFERENCES, GRAVE AND GAY.

the cheerful spring and all its glad remembrances rejoice
his heart, let him forget not in redundant health, how
many worthier far than he lie on a bed of sickness racked
with pain, or with sinking spirits toil for daily bread —
no murmuring stream within their downcast view, no
freshening air around their throbbing temples. If sum-
mer heat o’ercomes him, and he rests, not undelighted, by
gray romantic keep, or rustic bridge, or old umbrageous
tree, let him remember while gazing on these frail memo-
rials— in reference to his puny frame, how long enduring !
— his immortal state, and think with solemn heartfelt
awe upon that “ shadow of a great rock/’ within which
the weary and heavy laden rest for ever. If autumn’s
ruddy streams are roaring loud, let him not, as one re-
joicing in his Strength, trust to that strength alone, and
so “ surely in the floods of great waters they shall not
come nigh thee.” When stormy winter has embroiled the
sweet serenity of this green earth, and with “elemental
strife ” rages among icy crags and leafless trees, and the
shepherd’s hut and the lone mountain shieling lie buried
beneath the drifting snows — then let the angler, with
grateful if not with gladsome heart, acknowledge the
blessings of his fireside comforts, the numerous home
delights with which he is surrounded, the goodness and
mercy which have followed him " all the days of his life.”
If he is the son of living parents, let him reverence their

THE ANGLER’S MEDITATIONS.

395

gray hairs — the first commandment with promise. If,
his quiver full of arrows, he be the fond father of many
hopes, “ provoke not your children to wrath,” but bring
them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. If
childless, keep God’s covenant, and He will give you a
place and a name “ better than of sons and of daughters.”
If master, “ forbear threatening/’ knowing that there is
no respect of persons in heaven. If servant, be obedient
to your master, not with eye-service, but in singleness of
heart — inasmuch as ye all know that whatsoever good thing
any man doeth, “ the same he shall receive of the Lord,
whether he be bond or free.” — The Rod and the Gun.

BALT.ANTYNE AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.

LIST OF ME WILSON’S PUBLICATIONS,

ILLUSTRATIONS of ZOOLOGY ; being Representations of New, Rare, or Re-
markable Subjects of tbe Animal Kingdom, drawn and coloured after nature,
with Historical and Descriptive Details. Folio, 1831.

ENTOMOLOGIA EDINENSIS ; or a Description of the Insects found in the
Neighbourhood of Edinburgh ( Coleoptera ). 1834. [This work was prepared
conjointly by Mr Wilson and the Rev. James Duncan.]

The ROD and the GUN. 1840. [“ The Gun” was written by the author of “ The
Oakleigh Shooting Code.”]

A VOYAGE ROUND the COASTS of SCOTLAND and the ISLES. 2 vols. 1842.

ILLUSTRATIONS of SCRIPTURE. By an Animal Painter. With Notes by a
Naturalist. 1855.

Besides these separate publications, to the seventh edition of the Encyclopedia
Britannica he contributed —

Animalcula.

Entomology.

Angling.

Animal Kingdom.

Helminthology.

Ichthyology.

Mammalia.

Ornithology.

Reptiles and Serpents.

To which must be added in the eighth edition —
Fisheries, and Edward Forbes.

As mentioned in the Memoir, he wrote for the “ Edinburgh Cabinet Library,’
the Zoology of India, China, Africa, and the Northern Regions of North America.

S98

list or mr Wilson’s publications.

For the Quarterly Review he wrote papers on
YARRELL’S BRITISH FISHES. April 1837. Yol. 58.

FORBES’S ALPS of SAVOY. 1844. Vol. 74.

In the North British Review he was the author of articles
On the ART of ANGLING. Vol. 8.

ANGLING in NORWAY. Vol. 9.

ST JOHN’S TOUR in SUTHERLANDSHIRE. Vol. 11.

ORNITHOLOGY. Vol. 17.

MACGILLIVRAY’S BRITISH BIRDS. Vol. 19.

FORBES’S NORWAY, and LLOYD’S SCANDINAVIAN ADVENTURES. Vol. 21

For Blackwood’s Magazine he wrote —

On the KRAKEN. March 1818.

On the SEA SERPENT. April 1818.

HISTORY of the BARNACLE. Sept. 1818.

ZOOLOGICAL INACCURACIES of POETS. Nov. 1818.

EXTRACT from a TOUR THROUGH FRANCE. Feb. 1S19.

The BANKS of the RHINE. March 1819.

On FLY FISHING. June 1S19.

SHAW on SALMON FRY. April 1840.

NATURAL HISTORY of the SALMON. May 1S43.

SCROPE on SALMON FISHING. July 1843.

The DODO and ITS KINDRED. Jan. 1S49.

SCOTTISH FISHERIES. March 1856.

FISH PONDS and FISHING BOATS. May 1856.

To Excelsior he contributed a series of Papers on Parrots, Humming Birds,

and Pigeons.

In the Quarterly Journal of Agriculture, Nos. 5, 7, 8, 9, &c., appeared a series of
Essays “On the Origin and Natural History of Domestic Animals,” vis.
the Dog, the Horse, the Ox, the Sheep, the Goat, and the Hog.

LIST OF ME WILSON’S PUBLICATIONS.

399

The “ Memoirs of the Wernerian Society ” contain —

OBSERVATIONS on SOME SPECIES of the GENUS FALCO of LINNAEUS.
(Read 1st Feb. 1S17.) Vol. 2.

PHYSIOLOGICAL NOTICE concerning the EARLY STATE of the COMMON
FROG. (Read 24th Jan. 181S.) Vol. 3.

REMARKS on the DIFFERENT OPINIONS entertained respecting the SPE-
CIFIC DISTINCTION or IDENTITY of the RING-TAILED and GOLDEN
EAGLES. (Read 22d Feb. 1823.) Vol. 4.

OBSERVATIONS on SOME SPECIES of the GENUS MERGUS. (Read 22d
March 1S23.) Vol. 4.

On the ORIGIN of DOMESTIC POULTRY. (Read 20th March 1830.) Vol. 6.

To these may be added —

REMARKS on the DISTRIBUTION of INSECTS, and ACCOUNT of COLEOP-
TERA taken in SUTHERLAND in JUNE 1S34. Edinburgh New Philosophical
Journal, Vol. 19.

A LIST of the COLEOPTERA taken in the COUNTY of SUTHERLAND in JUNE
1834. Entomological Magazine, Vol. 4.

WORKS BY DR HAMILTON.

LESSONS FROM THE GREAT BIOGRAPHY. Small

Crown Svo. 5s. cloth. y

LIFE IN' EARNEST. Six Lectures on Christian Activity

and Ardour. lSmo. Eighty-third Thousand. Is. 6d. cloth.

THE MOUNT OF OLIYES ; and other Lectures on Prayer.

18mo. Eighty-second Thousand. Is. 6d. cloth.

THE ROYAL PREACHER. Lectures on Ecclesiastes.

New Edition. Small Crown Svo. 3s. 6d. cloth.

THE LAMP AND THE LANTERN ; or, Light for the

Tent and the Traveller. Fifth Edition. 16mo. Is. 6d. cloth.

EMBLEMS FROM EDEN. Ninth Thousand. 18mo.

Is. 6d. cloth.

THE HAPPY HOME. With Illustrations. New Edition.

18mo. Is. 6d. cloth.

MEMOIRS OF LADY COLQUHOUN OF LUSS. Fourth

Edition. Svo. 7s. 6d. cloth.

A MEMOIR OF RICHARD WILLIAMS, Surgeon in the

Patagonian Missionary Society’s Expedition to Tierra del Fuego. New Edition
Crown 8vo. 3s. Gd. cloth.

OUR CHRISTIAN CLASSICS : Readings from the best

Divines. Dedicated to the Lord Bishop of London. Extending from the
Deformation to the close of the eighteenth century, it is the object of this
series to give the reader a comprehensive view of that very various and noble
Christian literature by which our country has been signalised above all others,
with biographical and critical notices of the more distinguished authors.
Complete in 4 vols. Crown Svo. 16s. cloth gilt.

LONDON : JAMES NISJ3ET AND CO., 21 BERNERS STREET.

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