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America by Major Cassett, and one from the Pyrenees by Miss Robertson (her cousin). She was also presented with a book by Lady Inverclyde containing the autographs of many friends and well-wisliers, including those of the Duke and Duchess of Argyll, Admiral Togo, and others. The Duke of Argyll inserted along with his autograph the following lines:

Live till thy century of years become the full orbed hundred years of memory, lighted with honour, ever fresh, through some young joy, re-set, ARGYLL. within its treasury.

The following poem was composed in honour of the unique event:

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This is the message which I sent
Across the seas to my loved Friend,
From this huge Alpine cliff uphurled
By Titan force above the world.
No roses here! "No satin bow."-
Only the ice-fields and the snow;
The thundering floods that over-leap
The grim grey crags where glaciers sleep.

So different from my Torwood home
Whence birthday greetings oft have come.
But, as I think upon your name,
I know my love is still the same.

Places may vary, but I feel

My heart is true, my memory leal,
And, humbly, prayer to Heaven I raise
That God's great Love may crown your days.
C. L. C.

Murren, Switzerland.

The following interesting article by Crona in Temple appeared the "Helensburgh Times," to whose editor we are indebted for kind permission to reproduce the same and the foregoing.

Letters have frequently appeared in the newspapers referring to the Links with Sir Walter Scott" that yet remain-men and

women who retain personal memories of the great writer. As time passes, these must necessarily soon be broken, for Sir Walter died in 1832, seventy-nine years ago, and of those who knew him very few remain who were of an age or in circumstances to have held converse with him.

Mrs Drew of Ardencaple House, near Helensburgh, is now in her 101st year—a fact her friends find it hard to realise, as her memory is perfect; and although she herself laments "decaying conversational power," her talk is still brilliant enough to throw most of us into the shade.

As Miss Rosina Douglas she spent a great part of her youth with her aunt, Mrs Douglas of Orbiston; and at Orbiston Sir Walter came to spend three or four days when the girl was about eighteen. It was in the winter of 1829, and misfortune had already begun to darken Scott's life; but with the magnificent courage and self-abnegation that characterised him he kept a cheery front to the world, and to little Miss Douglas, at least, appeared in gay, almost boyish, spirits.

She thought herself happy to be old enough to be included in the dinner party invited to meet the distinguished guest. The Duke of Hamilton was there, and his "Vathek" duchess; Lady Charlotte Campbell and her husband, "handsome Jack Campbell" Schawfield; the Lockharts of Milton, into whose family Scott's elder daughter had Sir Hugh married; Sir Henry Seaton; Palliser; and other Lanarkshire neighbours. Miss Rosina Douglas had a humble "protégé" in the person of "Henry". -a lad whose rightful place was the lamp-room, og stillroom, or other lowly post behind the swingingdoor shutting off the servants' quarters. But Henry had read the marvellous books that stirred the world from palace to pantry, and he was consumed with longing to behold their author. He entreated Miss Rosina to obtain permission for him to attend in the diningroom, and pleaded that at least he might stand in the hali, with the rest of the men, while the guests passed into dinner.

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"Did you see Sir Walter, Henry ?" asked she afterwards. "Oh yes, Miss Rosina! satisfied now. I've seen his boot." of the misshapen foot that had made the great man lame for life had reached Henry, and his young mistress was somewhat chagrined to find that eyes that might have been lifted to Sir Walter's kindly face should have sunk to pry into the mysteries of a mechanical boot.

Scott's son-in-law, John Gibson Lockhart, was descended from the Lockharts of Gleghorn. His father's house at Milton was about to be rebuilt, and Sir Walter had consented to lay the foundation-stone. The house party from Orbiston drove over for the occasion-a lovely drive along the Clyde valley, through scenery Scott's pen had so vividly described. The snow was then on the ground, and the January wind blew through the leafless boughs of the haughs above the river. Scott has noted in his diary:

"We strolled about Milton on as fine a day as could consist with snow. We fixed on the plan of William's new house, where the sitting-rooms will command the upper valley, and with an ornamental garden, I think it may be made the prettiest place in Scotland! The situation is eminently beautiful, on a fine promontory, round which the Clyde makes a magnificent bend."

In spite of the troubles already thickening about him, Scott was that day in "tearing spirits." He had a wonderful faculty for putting aside unhappy things, and dwelling only on what was bright and hopeful. His devotion to his daughter Charlotte and her brilliant husband was deep and true, and this new home was to play a large part in the future of the Lockharts. "One suggestion I must make," he said to William, the elder Lockhart and future possessor of the place ; "you must add the Lockhart name to the Milton House, and let it be Milton-Lockhart' henceforth."

She

The widowed aunt with whom Mrs Drew spent so many of her youthful years was a Douglas by birth as well as by name, having married her cousin, Gilbert of Orbiston. was the sister of Sir Neil Douglas, the man who led the 79th Highlanders at Waterloo, and who afterwards commanded the forces in Scotland. Sir Neil's son, Sir John Douglas, commanded the same famous regiment in the Crimea. Four generations of Douglases have followed one another on the regimental roll.

Mrs Drew loves to relate how her aunt got news of the battle of Waterloo while she was visiting in Wales, and had been taken to see the famous "Ladies of Llangollen "-Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Sarah Ponsonbywho were the heroines of a romantic story dear to our grandmothers. While the visitors were in the house, the "Times' newspaper was brought in, announcing on its then but tiny printed sheet the great vi tory which Wellington had won in the fields beyond Brussels. The first details were scanty. The victory was the

one great fact, and its piteous price in wounds. and death had not then had time to be fully counted out. But in the first imperfect lists were two names that greatly concerned the readers at Plas Newydd. Amongst the killed was Sir William Ponsonby, a near relative of Sarah, and amongst the wounded was the name of Sir Neil Douglas.

From that agitating day dated the beginning of a friendship that strengthened into near and dear intimacy between Cecilia Douglas and the Irish "Ladies of the Vale." Lady Eleanor Butler was the first of the friends to be called away, and there linger in Mrs Drew's memory some tender verses written by her disconsolate friend. Mrs Drew cannot remember having ever seen the lines in print, or even in manuscript. She learnt them in her girlhood, more than eighty years ago, and has dictated them as I now write them :

"Though I have seen thy form depart
For ever from my saddened eye,

I hold thee in my faithful heart;
And there, at least, thou canst not die.

"Farewell on earth. Heaven claimed its own.
But when from me my spirit went,
It was exchanged for God alone.

Let dust and ashes learn content."

Sarah Ponsonby survived until 1832. She sent to Mrs Douglas, in memory of the lost Lady Eleanor, the oaken stick, cut from the grounds at Plas Newydd, which she had always used. A gold band encircles the knob, engraved with Lady Eleanor's name. Together with the stick came a signet-ring, set with an Irish bloodstone, the device being at harp and a broken string, and the motto, "Tis heard no more."

In 1902, King Edward's Coronation year, Mrs Drew was staying for the season at the house of her relative, Lord Lawrence, then one of the Lords-in-Waiting. There she constantly met Sir Spencer Ponsonby-Fane, a collateral descendant of the Lady of the Vale. He was immensely interested in hearing details of the romantic story of Llangollen, and greatly gratified when Mrs Drew actually presented him with the oaken stick. His note of thanks, in its turn, gratified Mrs Drew. "The stick," wrote Sir Spencer, is safely placed amongst my most cherished treasures. It is in royal company, for his Majesty has given me the ebony cane which my dear mistress, Queen Victoria, used so long. I have put the two together in my cabinet."

Mrs Cecilia Douglas lived to inherit the "Glasgow Tontine. Her father had bought

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two tickets when she was a mere child, and had given one to her, and one to her brother William. In course of time the lives had all expired but three herself, Miss Spiers of Elderslie, and another, whose name Mrs Drew now forgets. Miss Spiers suggested that the three should "amalgamate," and divide the Tontine money amongst them. But the lady of Orbiston would in no wise consent. "I think I will take my chance," she said. And the result proved how well founded was her courage, for she survived for many years to enjoy the large fortune that thus accrued to her.

On Saturday, 15th May, 1830, Mrs Drew, who was then Miss Douglas, in her nineteenth year, and taking a deep interest in Greek history, wrote the following poem. She submitted it to Sir Walter Scott, who spoke very favourably of the poem.

LYCURGUS.

'Tis night, and at the Delphic shrine,
In sable garb, a form divine,
Is by the glimmering taper seen,
Of haughty look and stately mien.
Hark! the suppliant bends in prayer:
Those mystic sounds are lost in air;
Again he speaks in louder tone-

Priestess, are we all alone?

My words must meet no mortal ear;
Mighty maiden, deign to hear.

I am Lycurgus, he whose might
Hath ruled the Spartan tribes aright,
And, in an auspicious hour,

Formed the broad basis of her power,
And made my country good and great.
Tell me then the will of fate:
Shall these laws for ages last,
In the mould of virtue cast?"

Hail! great Lycurgus," cries the maid,
Fate grants the boon, as thou hast said,
Behold to my prophetic eyes,
Visions of future glories rise:
A king appears, and on his brow
A laurel wreath. To him shall bow
A haughty Eastern Prince's pride,
Whose sceptre rules an empire wide."

"Tis past, Lycurgus is no more-
He perished far from Sparta's shore;
But o'er his grave the cyprus weep,
And stately laurel vigils keep,
Planted by many a graceful hand,
The tributes of his native land.

[Since arranging the foregoing article we have enjoyed the great privilege and pleasure of a personal interview with Mrs Drew, who kindly invited us to pay a visit to her beautifully situated house overlooking the Firth of Clyde. Horace proudly wrote, "I also have seen Virgil," and though our years make it

impossible for us to have seen the Great Minstrel of the Borderland, the kind invitation already mentioned made it possible for us to see and speak with one who knew him personally. Full of pleasant expectations the long railway journey from the Borderland to the shores of Clyde seemed shorter than usual, and we were soon at Ardencaple House. After an interesting conversation with Miss Waddell, the graceful and accomplished companion of Mrs Drew, we were ushered into the presence of the lady of the mansion. From the recent photograph which we reproduce, and the details already given, we were prepared to meet one who bore well her weight of years, but we were surprised to find a lady whose handclasp is as firm as that of a young person, and whose cheek has the smoothness and freshness of youth. After the first kindly greetings were over, Mrs Drew at once entered into an animated conversation which embraced many subjects, from her meeting with Sir Walter Scott to her deep interest in the Boy Scout movement, one of the badges of which she was very proud of possessing. Unlike many people who have attained to a great age, Mrs Drew's memory retains the details of current events, and she listens with deep interest to the daily reading of the newspapers, the contents of which she discusses with a clearness of perception which is truly wonderful. As a proof of Mrs Drew's remarkable powers of memory, we were delighted by hearing her recite with much elocutionary power selections from Scott, and Milton's sonnet "On His Blindness."

Mrs Drew has been in touch with many historical personages, and her reminiscences, could they be preserved in writing, would make a most interesting volume. We left her presence with regret, but full of a feeling that

It was a privilege indeed,

A favour ne'er to be forgot, To feel the pressure of the hand

That clasped the hand of Walter Scott.
It thrilled our heart to hear the voice
Which spoke in accents sweet and low,
That pleased the Mighty Minstrel's ear
With youthful tones so long ago.

It filled our breast with Scottish zeal,
And new resolves which may not tire
To see those eves, defying age,

Light up with patriotic fire.
May storms ne'er cross the flowery path
That gently slopes down to the end,
And joy forever be the lot

Of her who was the Minstrel's friend.

EDITOR, B. M. ]

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The members of Hawick Archæological Society commemorated, on 29th August, 1911, the centenary of the death of Dr John Leyden, the famous Oriental scholar and Border poet, by visiting Minto, Denholm, and Cavers, places intimately associated with his childhood and youth. company were joined by several members of Edinburgh Border Counties' Association and Edinburgh Borderers' Union. Driving and motoring from Hawick by way of Appletreehill and Hassendean, they arrived at Minto House, where they were welcomed by the Earl and Countess of Minto. Lord Minto conducted the large party through the mansion, and explained many of the objects of interest in the different rooms.

The Rev. W. A. P. Johnman, president of Hawick Archæological Society, moved a hearty vote of thanks to Lord and Lady Minto, and his Lordship, in reply, said he was very glad to welcome all the visitors of the Archæological Society, and to show them anything of interest he had in the house.

The company next proceeded to the village of Denholm, where they inspected with much interest the old thatched cottage in which Leyden was born. The cottage was purchased some years ago by Edinburgh Border Counties' Association, and a tablet in the front wall gives particulars of the purchase. Cavers old church was the next place of interest visited, and in the hall here a meeting was held, presided over by the Rev. Mr Johnman, who mentioned that this was the place where the great Dr Chalmers began his ministry. He introduced Sir George Douglas, Bart. of Springwood Park, to give an address on "Leyden: the Man and the Poet."

Sir George Douglas said they did rightly, he was sure, to celebrate the centenary of Leyden's death, for not only was Leyden a Borderer of whom all Borderers were justly proud, but his death, incurred through zeal in prosecuting his scientific investigations, was a noble and pathetic one. His talents and his genius were his own, but in the manly, almost rugged independence of his nature, in his high spirit, and whole-hearted devotion to his work, they might recognise, he thought, the typical traditional traits of Border character at its best. As to the precise nature of his distinction, however, he believed there existed in the popular mind some slight degree of misconception; for he very often heard the name of Leyden grouped with those of Thomson and James Hogg as though Leyden had been, as Hogg and Thomson certainly were before all things else, a poet. Now that was not the case; with Leyden poetry was but one emanation from a mind that was singularly brilliant, active, and variously endowed. Leyden was not a poet only, but prose writer, preacher, medical man, and, above all things,

linguist and philologist, and those who estimated him by his poetry alone would do him very greatly less than justice. In Leyden, as in Scott, the man was infinitely greater than the poet, and it was not merely or primarily the verse he wrote that gave him rank, a name, and a hold on their affections. They might rise from the reading of his verse with gentle, mild enthusiasm, but when they surveyed his life they must confess, he believed, that the annals of scholarship held few things finer. Born at Denholm in September, 1775, Leyden grew up on the slopes of Ruberslaw. The cleuch at Henlawshiel and later Denholm Dean afforded him the seclusion which thinkers loved. These venerable walls, which shielded them now, the walls of Cavers Church had looked upon his studious hours, and also. he believed, on certain madcap pranks of his youth.

Born four years later than Scott, Leyden did not live to witness the harvest of Scott's ripened genius. The last packet he received from the master's hand contained a copy of "The Lady of the Lake." Still it was through Scott and "The Border Minstrelsy" that the influence of the great romantic revival was brought to bear on Leyden, and under this influence he, too, set to work to unite romantic ballads-" The Mermaid," "The Cout o' Keilder," and "Lord Soulis." In these poems his style was rough and ready, characteristic of the man in this, that it did not stick at trifles, but in poetry trifles counted for so much. Still he had always a good, strong story to tell them. It was, of course, with the "Scenes of Infancy" that Ley-len's name as a poet was chiefly associated the scenes of infancy in which, when about to leave his native land, as it turned out for ever, he embodied the impressions of his early years and the yearning affection of later ones. It was hard for a Tev.otdale man to attempt to praise the 'Scenes of Infancy" quite critically. If he was anything of a judge of poetry, or thought he was, he must perceive it was not a very highly accomplished or perfect poem, and if he was very much of a Borderer he would be loth to acknowledge that it was anything less. As a matter of fact, this poem represented the methods of the eighteenth century surviving in the nineteenth, for as far as poetry was concerned, Leyden, amid all his multifarious studies, had failed to catch the accent of the tune-spirit aright. But the Scenes of Infancy" somehow or other retained its place in the affections of most of them. It might be there were poems which could not be judged solely by the cold rules of literary criticism-(applause) whose appeal, in fact, was to the heart rather than to the head, and that of these the "Scenes of Infancy" was one, and of the two arbiters it might be that the heart was less liable to error than the head. (Applause.)

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On the call of Councillor S. Douglas Elliot, S.S.C., Edinburgh, a hearty vote of thanks was accorded to Sir George Douglas.

Ex-Bailie Douglas, Edinburgh, moved a vote of thanks to Mr Johnman; and Captain and Mrs Palmer Douglas of Cavers were likewise thanked for giving the use of Cavers Old Church.

Mr Johnman stated that a letter had been received from Sir Robert Laidlaw mentioning that the monument to Leyden in Batavia would require repairing, and offering to subscribe £10 towards the estimated cost of £50 or £60. He

added that the Committee of the Archæological Society had decided to take the matter up.

The company afterwards visited Cavers House, where, through the kindness of Captain FyfeJamieson, they inspected the old portion of the mansion, which contained the library to which Leyden used to resort for study.

JOHN LEYDEN.

Suggested by the Celebration at Denholm,
August 29, 1911.

Not these the days of casque and lance,
And charge and battle-cry;
But are the well-springs of romance
Because of that run dry?

We've changed the weapon and the dress;
The spirit lives the same;

And there are pathways thro' the press
That lead alike to fame.

And for the pen, as for the spear,
The nerve is needed still-
With slot to rouse, desert to cheer,
And prejudice to kill.

Dear poet of an ancient strain,
None nobler in the land,
In thee the past returns again,
With Gawin thou shall stand-

(Not more distinguished in his day
Than now thou art in thine,
For one immortal Border lay
And many a haunting line);

And brother bards have found in thee
A critic and a friend,
Their silent merits first to see,
And foremost to commend.

Sure thine is no unhappy fate,
Poet and critic too-

Endow'd with art, ancestral state,
And tender heart and true.

J. LOGIE ROBERTSON.

September 2, 1911. SIR, We have been commemorating the anniversary of the death of Leyden. He was born on the 8th of this month, 1775. The University of St Andrews is about to celebrate its quincentenary. I hope Leyden's connection with St Andrews is remembered. During the winter of 1798, Leyden was resident in St Andrews superintending the studies of two students at the University. Of this Sir Walter Scott writes:-"Here he had the advantage of the acquaintance of Professor Hunter, an admirable classical scholar, and to whose kind instructions he professed much obligation. The secluded situation also of St Andrews, the monastic life of the students, the fragments of antiquity with which that Metropolitan town is surrounded, and the libraries of its colleges, gave him additional opportunity and impulse to pursue his favourite plans of study."

Leyden was licensed to preach not by the Presbytery of Edinburgh, as one would naturally conclude, but by the Presbytery of St Andrews, in May, 1798. It appears from Dr James Wardrop's letter to Mr Archibald Constable (see Archibald

Constable and his literary correspondents) in June, 1812, that he got his surgeon's diploma in Edinburgh. Dr Wardrop writes:- The powers of his memory were never more usefully and strongly called forth than in the means which he pursued for getting out to India. He went there appointed to the medical department, for which he had qualified himself by a few weeks' study! He had previously acquired some very superficial knowledge of anatomy and chemistry, more with a view of increasing his general knowledge than of applying them to the practical parts of medicine, and finding that a medical appointment was neces sary for him to get out to India to prosecute his other pursuits, he undertook to qualify himself in a few weeks to get the necessary diploma. In going through this preparation, he was not altogether fearless of success, and I remember well his calling on me that I might show him some surgical instruments, and enable him to distinguish a scalpel from a razor, and an amputating knife from a carver. After two or almost three weeks' preparation he was bold enough to appear as a candidate for a surgeon's diploma, and his attempt was successful."

A memoir ́supplementary" to that of Sir Walter Scott, published in 1875 at Kelso by T. & T. H. Rutherford, adds" He had also the superior degree of M.D. conferred upon him at St Andrews shortly afterwards.”

Thus Leyden was licensed to preach by the Presbytery of St Andrews, and a medical graduate of its University.-I am, &c.,

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W. W. TULLOCH.

In the brillant age of Scottish scholarship and literature, which included, roughly, the last quarter of the eighteenth and the first quarter of the nineteenth centuries, Dr John Leyden, the Border poet and Oriental scholar, the centenary of whose death fell yesterday (August 29th), was a remarkable figure-remarkable not only because of his genius, but because of his astonishing personality. In many ways he seems to have been the Dr Samuel Johnson of Scotland. In appearance he had a considerable advantage over his English prototype. He is described by Sir Walter Scott, in an "anonymous memoir contributed to the Edinburgh Annual Register for 1811," as of middle stature, of a frame rather thin than strong, but muscular and active," with "brown hair, lively dark eyes, and well-proportioned features" giving "an acute and interesting turn of expression to his whole countenance." But if Dr Leyden-to judge from this description-was not uncouth in appearance, his manners seem to have been as unprepossessing as those of the great lexicographer. In society," says Scott in this interesting memoir of his friend, John Leyden's "first appearance had something that revolted the fastidious and alarmed the delicate. He was a "bold and uncompromising disputant, and neither 'subdued his tone nor mollified the form of his argument out of deference to the rank, age, or even sex of those with whom he was maintaining it. His voice, which was naturally loud and "harsh, was on such occasions exaggerated into "what he himself used to call his saw tones, "which were not very pleasant to the ear of strangers. His manner was animated, his movements abrupt, and the gestures with which

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