HOMAS WATT, the subject of the following brief sketch, was born in the quaint little town, but Royal Burgh, of Lauder, in the year 1818. He still lives-with a fair measure of physical vigour and with mental faculties little impaired-in a western metropolitan suburb. Such a long spell of an active and strenuous life is alone worthy of recognition, but, as will be seen, there are other and more cogent reasons for such recognition.

In Murray's Handbook, Lauder is described as an uninteresting little town," but we need not accept this opinion as final. There is, at least, one feature it shares with most small communities in Scotland, and that is the number of men it has sent out to play their part successfully in the world, both in this country and abroad. It may have been less prominent in this respect than, for instance, the picturesque little village of Denholm, nestling so sweetly on Teviotside, which among others of less note, numbers John Leyden and Sir James Murray, sometimes called "Dictionary Murray"; but the "wee" burgh has also done its part, and, amongst others who might be named, Mr Watt holds an honoured place. His educational advantages

were limited to the rather meagre training to be obtained in the local school, in which he had the advantage or disadvantage, according to the point of view, of being well drilled in the Shorter Catechism, and was taught to repeat the Lord's Prayer, the 23rd Psalm, and what was called the Apostles' Creed, as well as most of the Paraphrases. This kind of training would not be considered sufficient at the present time, but at the period of which I am writing, it was no doubt regarded as efficient, and there is at least this to be said of it, as Froude said of Calvinism, it did its part in producing men of a strong type.

His boyhood over, Mr Watt was apprenticed to Mr Win. Hope, baker, in Kelso. This was fortunate for both. The apprentice found an efficient and kind employer, and the master a conscientious and willing apprentice. Mr Hope was a member of a family which belonged more to the Jedburgh than to the Kelso district, having been tenants for upwards of a century of the farm of Newmill, situated about a mile from Jelburgh. on the estate of the Earl of Minto. The connection led to a friendship which only ended with Mr Hope's death many years afterwards, and which has continned to the present time with his nephews

a

and nieces. His apprentic ship ended, Mr Watt made for what was then, and to a certain extent still is, the mecca of young and enterprising Scotch bakers, London. After working there some time he went yet farther afield, to Canada, which even then had attractions as a field for emigrants. After spending two years in the Colony (not then known as Dominion) he returned to London, where he finally settled. He obtained work without difficulty, and was not long in getting the position of foreman, and in due course entered into business on his own account. Mere plodding, however commendable, is not in itself sufficient to lead to anything like conspicuous success in a business in which competition is so keen. There must be initiative and some originality as well, and these qualities Mr Watt possessed in a rather striking degree. He wore no man's livery, and what he did must be done in his own way. A characteristic instance of this may be related. When he was foreman in a large west-end business an employee was engaged who also happened to be from the Borders. Though a good workman, he had a weakness for spending too much of his earnings in the public-house. At the end of the first week Mr Watt paid him his wages two shillings sho:t. Knowing the influence of the foreman, and being otherwise kindly treated, he said nothing. This went on for five weeks until he probably thought it was to be permanent, but his foreman had other ideas, and said to him-"I have 10s in my possession which belongs to you, and as I notice you are not well off for underclothing I propose going out with you to spend it in buying what you require." It is pleasant to relate that the incident made such an impression that he became more careful, and was afterwards a successful man. The same spirit of initiative actuated Mr Watt in his own busiMore than once when he had built up successful business to what seemed its natural limit, he disposed of it, and looked out for fresh pastures. His last and most successful venture in this way was undertaken when he was 54 years of age, and was made in South Kensington, then under very rapid development. With his customary foresight and sound judgment, he acquired a suitable site, had the premises built specially, and in a few years had the chief business in a very prosperous district. After working it successfully for about 10 years, he disposed of it to his sons, under whom it continued to prosper, until it became an important component part in a combination of similar businesses. Since

ness.

a

his retirement Mr Watt has taken no active part in business, but has been actively employed in many other ways. Instead of following him in these pursuits of his leisure, it may be more interesting, as well as profitable, to add a few reflections on the part he has played in public questions during his long life. In the years of his boyhood, Scotland groaned under the heel of the oppressor. Political liberty and freedom of speech were unknown; and the so-called representation of the people in Parliament was a farce. Even after the Reform Bill of '32, there was a long road to travel before anything like civil and religious liberty could be obtained. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at that during the greater part of his life Mr Watt was a strong Liberal in politics, and his views in this respect only became modified after the introduction of the Home Rule Bili in 1886. Although brought up in one of the narrowest sects of Presbyterian Calvinism, the Antiburghers, he was a man of too enlightened views and broad sympathies to remain identified with the narrow ideas of this rather antiquated body, long since merged in a larger community. A religious man and a conscientious Dissenter he has remained, but with a full appreciation of innocent relaxation and social enjoyment. Mr Watt is in his 93rd year, and with a good prospect of years of life yet before him. It is a long span, and the question naturally arises, what is the secret of such length of days. It has not, in his case, arisen from a specially healthy occupation, or from any devotion to athletics in the ordinary sense. A friend of the present writer, a well-known author of many books (largely boys' books) has a theory that athletics as now practised do not conduce either to long life or exceptional health. cording to his theory, constant activity, physical and mental, is far more effectual; this, combined with uniform temperance in all his habits, seem to have acted favourably in Mr Watt's case. There may be yet another reason. For just over 60 years he has had the constant care of a devoted wife, who, only three years his junior, still watches over him. There may have been also other favouring circumstances. His lithe and sinewy frame carries no superfluous weight, and amid the trials of life, from which none are exempt, he has no doubt been saved from much anxious worry by his constant faith in an over-ruling Providence. Whatever the cause, it is not a little remarkable that, after his 90th anniversary, he was equal to a 5 or 6 miles' walk,

with short intervals of rest, and that only a year ago he was able to endure the fatigue and excitement of a fortnight's visit made quite alone, to the Border district he loves so well, and where he was welcomed by many friends

Mention has been made of the good influence he exercised on a workman under his charge. It is no solitary incident of a similar kind, as is well known to all who have any personal knowledge of the man. In many cases neither time nor money has been spared in assisting deserving friends, but I have no intention of dwelling on such cases. Words of laudation form no part of the plan in writing this brief and imperfect sketch, which is rather intended to be some tribute of respect and esteem for a man of the people, who from small and unpropitious beginnings, in the course of a long and honourable life, raised himself to a position of wealth and influence, and was thus enabled to confer benefit on many who were less fortunate.

In conclusion, it will not be inappropriate to quote the words applied to another "Grand Old Man" by one of his most discerning critics-"Take him all in all, we shall not soon look on his like again, the heroic 'old man.'"

P. T.

[We are indebted to P.T. for sending us the above article and to the Editor of the "Kelso Chronicle" for permission to reproduce it in our columns.-ED. “B.M."]

FIRS ON THE HILL.

I love those clumps of windy fir;
Each stem is a true-born Borderer,
Standing as firm to the storm that blows
As the Border stood to her ancient foes.
Something saved from the Past they seem,
Part and heart of a storied dream.
Under their shade might a raider rein,
Searching the moss for his reiving train;
From their tall red boughs with the dappled bark
A thief might swing in the starlit dark;
Or in fern at their foot might a minstrel lie,
Harping his best to a Border sky.

Oak and beech-you may keep them all!
What are they worth when the dead leaves fall?
But the first on the heath are tasselled o'er
With the helmet-plumes of our lords of war,
And each bare red bough is the naked blade
That has reddened and bent in a Border raid!
By the broken wall may the lone whaup cry,
Or the brown owl hoot when the night is nigh,
There is never a wandering wing but these-
And memory's own in the dark fir trees,
And the only song they shall ever know
Is the wind's song out of the Long Ago.
"Scotsman,"

WILL H. OGILVIE.

NEIDPATH CASTLE.

BY REV. JOHN DICKSON.
PART II.

RIOR to Sir William Hay's time the older Neidpath was the chief seat of his family. Having been created a Baron he deemed the old Border peel unworthy his rank. So the Neidpath of fame, the "Castle of Peebles" as it was sometimes designated, and now the goal of tourists, and a meet subject for the artist, rose, probably in 1410, to dominate the valley of the Tweed. Little is known of its pristine glory. 'We must confess our astonishment," savs a recent writer, "that our friend, Sir Walter Scott, should have published his two large tomes of Border antiquities and given no niche in the work to Neidpath Castle." This was the "stern rugged pile," frequently graced by Stuart royalty. Its superior, from 1576 to 1591, William, the sixth Lord Yester, commonly called monly called "Wood Sword," was Privy to the Raid of Ruthven in 1582. He had James VI. as a guest at Neidpath in 1587.

At his death he was succeeded by his brother James, seventh Lord Yester. He held the Castle of Neidpath until 1609, when it passed to his son James, who was created first Earl of Tweeddale, at Newcastle, in 1639. He was a man greatly distinguished for sagacity and attention to business. His health, however, compelled him to leave the management of his affairs, for the most part, in the hands of his son, Lord Yester. At the commencement of hostilities between Charles I. and his Parliament, Lord Yester was an ardent loyalist. But, in 1643, he took the side of civil liberty, and commanded a regiment at the Battle of Marston Moor, in 1644, against the royal army. He was again in the interests of Charles at Preston, in 1648. This aroused the ire of Oliver Cromwell, and Neidpath was made to feel the brunt of his cannon, after the Battle of Dunbar, in 1650. It quickly surrendered. The effect of the cannonade is still visible to-day in the large fragments of broken masonry that lie at the bottom of the cliff beside the Tweed. The success of Cromwell's attack was mainly due to it having been delivered from the opposite bank of the river upon the weakest and oldest part of the building. Lord Yester anticipated the visitation, and had prepared himself for it, by "garrisoning his house at Neidpath." However, he appears to have been absent in Dundee when Cromwell thundered at his gates.