In Volunteers at the Wimbledon meeting this year. September he was refreshed by a visit to Scotland, which included some days of the British Association at St. Andrews, and with M. Van de Weyer at Abergeldie Castle; while there he was collecting facts for his book on the Hermits. TO HIS WIFE.] ST. ANDREWS: "I am looking out on a glassy sea, with the sea-birds sailing about close under the window. I could wish to be at home seeing you all go to church. Yesterday was a day of infinite bustle. The University and City received the British Association and feasted them. Every thing was very well done, except putting me down for a speech against my express entreaty. However, I only spoke five minutes. After this early dinner a reception soirée of all the ladies of Fifeshire, 'East Neuk.' We escaped early. I hate being made a lion of. I sat at dinner between dear old Philips and Geikie, with Grant Duff next, who has asked me to come on to him if I have time, and kill his salmon. Hurrah! To-day to church at one, and dine at Principal Tulloch's after, to meet Stanley, who is in great force in his beloved St. Andrews, which he called, in a very charming speech last night, his second university. Jowett comes to-morrow with a reading party. Blackwood (of the Magazine), who lives close by, has been most civil to me... wanting me to come and stay with him, &c. ; he has told me much that is curious about De Quincey, Hogg, Wilson, &c. He and B. and T. have been trying hard to make me preach in Boyd's Church; but I talked it over with last night, and I was glad to find that he thought with me, that it is quite legal, but that there was no need for a sudden and uncalledfor row with the Puseyites. I am most careful about all that. Nothing can be more pleasant than my stay here has been. But the racket of the meeting is terrible; the talking continual, and running into Dundee, by two trains, with the steamer at Broughty Ferry, between, is too much; so I have taken up my hat, and am off to Tilliepronie to-morrow; with the Provost of Dundee, and worse, the dear Red Lion Club crying to me to 1867.] MOTHER AND CHILD. 205 stop and dine. These dear Scots folk-I should like to live always among them; they are so full of vigorous life and heart. I am very well, but longing for the heather. Tell Maurice golf is the queen of games, if cricket is the king; and the golfing gentlemen as fine fellows as ever I saw. Kiss all the darlings for me, Grenville especially." "Best of all," said Dean Stanley in a letter from Dundee, speaking of the banquet, "was Kingsley's speech, comparing the literature of science to camp followers picking up scraps from the army, plundering, begging, borrowing, and stealing, and giving what they got to the bairns and children that ran after them, ending with a very delicate and well-timed serious turn of 'the voice of God revealed in facts."" From Abergeldie Castle he writes to his wife, who was starting their youngest boy to his first school: "I am quite unhappy to-day thinking of your parting with the dear boy, for I can understand, though my man's coarser nature cannot feel as intensely, the pang to you of parting with a bit of yourself. More and more am I sure, and physiologists are becoming more sure also, that the mother is the more important [parent], and in the case of the boy everything; the child is the mother, and her rights, opinions, feelings, even fancies about him, ought to be first regarded. You will write to me all about his starting; but I have no fear of his being anything but happy.. TO HIS YOUNGEST DAUGHTER]. "MY MARY,-This is the real castle where I am, and in the bottom of that tower a real witch was locked up before she was burnt on Craig-na-Ban, overhead. At the back of the house, under my window, which is in the top of the tower, the Dee is roaring, and the salmons are not leaping, and a darling water-ouzel, with a white breast, is diving after caddises. And as soon as I have had luncheon I am going to fish with two dear little girls, who catch lots of trout with a fly; and a real gilly in a kilt, who, when he and I caught a salmon two days ago, celebrated the event by putting on his Prince of Wales's tartan and uniform, taking an enormous bagpipe, and booming like an elephantine bumble-bee all round the dinner-table, and then all about the house. It is very pleasant—like a dream—real stags in the forest looking at you, and real grouse, and blackcock, and real princesses walking about; but I long to be home again with you all, and that is truth. Love to Rose, and tell her to write to me to Aboyne. Your affectious pater, "C. K." TO MR. T. DIXON.] "I am much surprised to hear of almshouses paying rates. The whole Poor-Law Question has got into the hands of the small shopkeepers, as far as I can see, altogether. But as for shifting the burden of rates and taxes, the true place to shift it, it seems to me, is on to the large shopkeepers and employers of labour, who rapidly grow rich, and therefore could endure a little more taxation. As for putting it on the land—you cannot be aware that land does not now pay more than 2 or 3 per cent. to buy, so that the possession of it is a luxury, which only the rich can afford. This is owing to the heavy burdens which lie already on the (generally) exhausted and poor soil of England; and its effect is, that the land is drifting into too few hands. That happens by no privilege or injustice, but simply by supply and demand, there being so very few purchasers for the luxury of being a landowner. This is a serious evil, and a growing one. But I do not think that much shifting of taxes is needed-what is needed, is not squandering them when they are raised-and if there is that waste it must be the fault of the House of Commons, and nobody else. If we do not put good men into Parliament, we must be punished by our own folly. God grant the working men in their elections may choose honest and virtuous men (I don't care what their opinions are), leaving them as much un-pledged and free as possible, and trusting to their conscience and honour to do what is right." To L. T. Esq.]—"As for stammering, I have seldom known a worse case than my own. I believe it to be perfectly curable, 1867.] STAMMERING CURABLE. 207 by the most simple and truly scientific rules-if persevered in. The great obstacles to cure are—1. Youth, which prevents attention and force of will. 2. In after life, nervous debility of any kind. But with the cure of stammering, nervous debility decreases, owing to the more regular respiration, and therefore more perfect oxygenation of the blood, and so the health improves with the speech. Try a simple experiment, it is an old and notorious method. Before beginning to speak, take two or three deep breaths, and always breathe at a stop, so as to prevent doing what all old stammerers do, speaking with an empty lung. Take a pair of very light dumb-bells and exercise your chest with them, taking care to in-spire deeply when you raise them over your head, and when (consequently) the ribs are raised, and the lungs expanded. Do this slowly and quietly, and I think you will find, though it will not cure you, yet it will relieve and literally comfort your breathing enough to give you confidence in my hints." CHAPTER XXIII. 1868. AGED 49. ATTACKS OF THE PRESS-LECTURES ON SIXTEENTH CENTURY LETTERS ON EMIGRATION-NEWMAN'S DREAM OF ST. GERONTIUS -MILITARY EDUCATION-SANDHURST COMTISM-ON CRIME AND ITS PUNISHMENT-PARTING WITH HIS SON-LETTER FROM REV. WILLIAM HARRISON. "Life, I repeat, is energy of love, Through shades and silent rest, to endless joy." WORDSWORTH. The "I never saw in any man such fearlessness in the path of duty. one question with him was, 'Is it right?' No dread of consequences, and consequences often bitterly felt by him, and wounding his sensitive nature, ever prevented him from doing that to which conscience prompted. His sense of right amounted to chivalry.”—Life of PROFESSOR FORBES. THE professorial lectures this year were on the 16th century, and were crowded, as usual; but some severe attacks on his teaching in two leading newspapers in the preceding autumn (though in each case they might be traced to some personal animosity), had inclined him, for his own honour, and for that of his University, to resign his post. Before doing this, he consulted some of the Cambridge authorities, on whose friendship and |