Before I retire to rest I must hastily and very briefly record my doings to-day, just by way of keeping in good habits; as I am engaged to breakfast at an early hour with Dr. Graham I must soon go to bed. Rose at half past nine (recollect I had not slept the previous night),—a snowstorm. Sight-seeing being out of the question, went to the university, just in time to hear the latter part of Dr. Hope’s lecture (Light Carburetted Hydrogen and Safety Lamp); fine-studied and rather formal manner,—did not wear his gown or ruffles at the wrist! Experiments few but rather neat. In cutting off flame with wire gauze he varied the experiment in a way I had not previously seen, viz., by throwing a jet of ether upon the gauze, which burnt below but did not kindle above,—a very pretty effect. He looks to be not above sixty-five, although he must be ten years over that age. Next heard Professor Forbes,[43] a handsome man of very elegant appearance; a most elegant and lucid lecturer; delivered my note of introduction from Professor Silliman; received me very kindly, but I was obliged to leave at once to hear a lecture from Professor Wilson, the famous Christopher North, one of the most extraordinary men living, very eccentric, a gifted genius, and a man of the most wonderful versatility of powers. The subject to-day was the Association of Ideas. The lecture was rather striking, original in manner, with a few flights of that peculiar eloquence which you would expect from Christopher North. Next heard Dr. Monro (Anatomy); very prosy; the class behaved shockingly, even for medical students! Lastly I heard Professor Jameson[44] a stiff, ungainly, forbidding-looking man, who gave us the most desperately dull, doleful lecture I ever heard. It was just like a copious table of contents to a book,—just about as interesting as reading a table of contents for an hour would be; I may add just as instructive! Dined in a quiet way with Dr. Pardie, a young physician to whom I brought a letter from James Hogg; his wife is a cousin of James; went from the table to the college to hear a botanical lecture from Professor Graham; returned to tea and spent the evening. I found I had quite unexpectedly met with profitable acquaintance, as Dr. and Mrs. Pardie were active and ardent Christians, of the Baptist persuasion, and people of a very delightful spirit. They were well acquainted with Mr. Cheever of Salem, who spent some time in Edinburgh previous to his journey to Palestine. I passed a very pleasant evening, and promised to call on them again before leaving town. Returned in the midst of a violent snowstorm to Dr. Greville’s, where I am now domesticated, having sent up my baggage from the hotel.
Saturday evening.—Rose this morning at half past seven; and at half past eight, according to engagement, went over to the other side of the town with Dr. Greville, to breakfast with Dr. Graham, and then visit the Botanical Garden (deep snow). We looked about the garden, or rather the greenhouses, until afternoon; much gratified with the splendid collections; but the Sabbath draws nigh, and I cannot go on to tell you more about it now. Called on Mr. Nicoll on my return; made a provisional engagement to meet him at breakfast on Monday and examine his sections of woods. Ran about the streets; left a note at the house of Arnott’s brother, to make arrangements (as we have done) for visiting Parliament House, etc., on Monday; returned to Greville’s, dressed for dinner, and looked over books, etc., until Professor Graham and Dr. Balfour,[45] secretary of the Botanical Society, arrived; dined; passed a pleasant evening; after family worship had a little conversation with Dr. Greville, retired to my room, and now, as I am at the bottom of the page and my watch says ten minutes to twelve,—to bed. Adieu.
Monday evening.—Two days have passed since I have taken up my pen to communicate to you my little diary. I still remain domesticated at Dr. Greville’s, where I am received with the greatest kindness, and am as happy as I can be away from home. I like Dr. G. and family much, there is so much true Christian feeling and simplicity. Dr. G. seems much to regret that he was unable to meet Dr. Torrey in Edinburgh. Yesterday was the first Sabbath of the new year, and I heard two sermons adapted to the season; one in the morning, in an Episcopal chapel (the one to which this family belong) from Mr. Drummond, the text being the latter clause of Hebrews viii. 13; a most excellent, faithful, and godly sermon. In the afternoon I occupied a seat Dr. Greville was so kind as to secure for me in the Old Greyfriars (Scotch) Church, which is so crowded that without this precaution you can hardly expect to get into the church when Dr. Guthrie preaches. He is the most striking preacher I ever heard. I could not help comparing him with Whitfield. The text was the first clause of Eccles. ii. 11. I dare not attempt to give you any idea of the discourse. I wish you could have heard it. In this church-yard the remains of the early martyrs of Scotland repose, not far from the Grassmarket, where they were mostly offered up. I stood upon the very spot to-day where they suffered. We had a terrible wind all last night, which, with the rain, carried off nearly all the snow. The morning was so stormy that I could not fulfill my conditional engagement to breakfast with Mr. Nicoll and look at his curiosities. So I repaired to the university at ten; heard Sir Charles Bell,[46] the professor of surgery,—a decent lecturer, but not remarkable. At eleven I heard the celebrated Dr. Chalmers, the professor of divinity. The old man has a heavy, strongly-marked Scotch countenance, which, however, brightens very much when he is engaged in his discourse. His manner is rather inelegant and his dialect broad Scotch and peculiar. But the matter is so rich that he carries all before him. Every word is full of thought, and he occasionally rose to a very powerful eloquence. He is much beloved, and is considered by all parties, perhaps, as the strong man of Scotland. The subject of his lecture this morning was the advantage (and the abuse) of Scripture criticism. It was a treat to hear him. He paid a high compliment, in the course of his remarks, to our Moses Stuart.
The weather growing by this time more tolerable, I walked about town,—visited the Parliament House, the Library of the Writers to the Signet; passed through the Grassmarket, returned here, looked at plants with Dr. Greville; dined; received a parcel from Sir William Hooker containing a few plants I had accidentally left (a few he had given me). A very kind letter informed me that he would be in London about the same time with me (which I had in part expected, and about which hangs a tale I must write soon), and also a fine parcel of letters of introduction for me, both to persons on the way to London, and also on the Continent,—to Delessert, De Candolle, Martins, Endlicher, Humboldt, etc. Truly he is a kind man; he has laid me under lasting obligations. He asks me to say to Dr. Torrey that his Grace of Bedford is anxious to receive also the Hudsonia ericoides from New Jersey, and he will be greatly obliged if he will send a box of it to Woburn early in the spring. Attended this evening a meeting of the Royal Society, Dr. Abercrombie[47] (author of “Intellectual Powers,” etc.) in the chair. Dr. A. is at the head of the profession here; is greatly esteemed, and is a most exemplary Christian. An interesting paper was read by Professor Forbes, of whom I have spoken before; a man whom from his very youthful appearance you could never have imagined as the successful candidate to the professor’s chair against Dr. Brewster. But Dr. Brewster is no favorite in Edinburgh. Other distinguished men were there. I was introduced to Professor Christison,[48] had some pleasant conversation; promised, if practicable, to hear him lecture to-morrow at nine A.M., and look at his museum of materia medica. We had tea after the adjournment, according to the usual custom here, which is a very pleasant one. I only count upon two days more in Edinburgh, and have yet much to do. I am anxious to reach London, where I hope there are letters for me. Good-night. May God bless you all, and keep you.
Melrose, January 10, 1839, Thursday evening.
On the 8th inst., Tuesday, I went immediately after breakfast to the university and heard Professor Christison’s lecture, Materia Medica. He is an excellent lecturer. I spent a half hour with him, in looking over his cabinet of preparations, which contains a large number of fruits, etc., preserved in strong brine instead of spirits. I acquired some useful information concerning the best way to close the jars, for which he has some very neat plans. Then I heard Professor Forbes again; elegant as usual, but he did not succeed very well in his experiments. The next hour I had a rich treat. I heard another lecture from Professor Wilson, on the Association of Ideas, which on this occasion he noticed in a more practical view than before. He recited, in his glowing manner, several passages from Virgil, and a long one from Milton, and gave a long and most eloquent analytic commentary upon each, far exceeding anything of the kind I ever heard before. After visiting the library of the university—a most magnificent room—I set out for Holyrood House.... I bought one or two poor prints, a cast of the seal-ring of Mary, plucked a bit of holly from a bush standing by the place by the altar before which Mary was married to Bothwell, and reluctantly took my leave. There was yet some time remaining, so I set out to climb Arthur’s Seat, which rises abruptly behind Salisbury Crags to the height of eight or nine hundred feet. I attained my wish, and had a beautiful view, from the summit, of the city beneath my feet, and the wide country around. I descended more rapidly than I went up, though at some risk to my neck. Returned to Dr. Greville’s, where I dined and spent all the evening.
I had engaged yesterday to breakfast with Dr. Graham. I therefore set off early for that purpose; afterward accompanied him to the Garden, examined the grounds, etc., passed some time in the splendid palm-house. I spent some portion of the morning also with Mr. Nicoll, examining with the microscope his beautiful collection of recent and fossil wood in thin slices; learned how to prepare them. Then arranged my affairs to leave Edinburgh in the morning. In the evening Dr. Greville and myself dined with Mr. Wilson (gentleman naturalist), the brother of the gifted Professor Wilson; himself almost equally gifted, but with a more healthy tone of mind. He interested us so much that our stay was prolonged until nearly the “wee short hour ayont the twal,” when we parted, after a pressing invitation to visit him at his country residence in case I ever visited Scotland at a more pleasant season. Taking leave of my kind friends the Grevilles, I was early this morning on my way to Melrose. I have been received with the utmost kindness, not only by this agreeable and most excellent family, but among all the acquaintance I have made in Edinburgh. I had purchased for you a collection of hymns, etc., edited by Dr. Greville and his pastor, Mr. Drummond, with which I was very much pleased, and doubt not you would like them much. But Dr. Greville saw it, and afterwards insisted on sending a much handsomer copy to Dr. Torrey, which was accordingly placed in my hands for him. Melrose is about thirty-six miles from Edinburgh, on one of the routes to Newcastle. We came upon the Tweed among a rugged range of hills, at first a very small stream; followed it along the sinuous valley for a long way, until it became a pretty considerable river, for Great Britain; at length the valley grew wider, softer, and in the proper season, doubtless very beautiful. A smaller stream joined it at some distance before us, and as its opening vale came into view, the driver—I beg his pardon, coachman—pointed with his whip to the opposite side and said, “Abbotsford; “ and true enough the turrets of this quaint castellated house were distinguishable, in the midst of a grove mostly of Scott’s own planting, near the banks of the Yarrow. We soon after crossed the Tweed, at the place where the White Lady frightened the sacristan in “The Monastery; “ the scene of which, you know, was laid at Melrose and in the neighborhood. The fine old ruin of Melrose Abbey now came into view, half surrounded by a dirty little Scotch village. Here I abandoned the coach until to-morrow, secured a gig, and was soon on my way to Abbotsford.... I walked back from Abbotsford, noticing more particularly the beauty of the valley, and the fine Eildon Hills which rise behind Melrose, from whose summit, it is said, a very beautiful prospect may be obtained. I then spent the remainder of the afternoon about Melrose Abbey, the most beautiful ruin I have ever seen or expect to see; more beautiful than I had imagined, and just in that state of dilapidation in which it appears to the greatest advantage as a ruin, for were it entire it would be indeed magnificent. I feel now as if I should never care to see another ruin of the kind; and therefore I shall not visit Dryburgh Abbey (where Scott is buried), as I had intended; although I suppose we shall pass by nearly in sight of it to-morrow. I wish I could bring you some sketch or print that would give you some idea of Melrose, but I fear this is impossible. The exquisite carvings in stone, especially, cannot be appreciated until they are seen. It is said (I forget the lines) that Melrose should be seen by moonlight, and this I can well imagine; but this evening there is neither moonlight nor starlight....
Durham, Saturday evening, January 12, 1839.
Soon leaving the Tweed we crossed a range of hills, and came down into the fertile Teviotdale, so famous in border story. Again leaving this valley, we wound our way up the Jedwater, a tributary of the Teviot, rising high up in the Cheviot Hills, just on the line between England and Scotland. We passed Jedburgh, a Scotch village of considerable size and importance, dirty and comfortless of course. Here is an old abbey, which I should have been loth to pass by had I not seen Melrose; thence we ascended the Jed for many a weary mile, until we reached its source high among the Cheviot Hills. Our course was literally “over the mountain and over the moor,” for after a tedious ascent we crossed the boundary line at an elevation of fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea. We were by this time thoroughly drenched with mist and rain; the wind forbidding the use of our umbrellas. We immediately commenced our descent, and just at dusk stopped for a hasty dinner at Otterbourne, so famous in the history of the border warfare as the place of the memorable Chevy Chase. It was too dark to see the cross erected to mark the spot where Percy fell. Pass we over the ride from this to Newcastle, as we saw nothing, though we passed near some places of interest,—Chillingham, the residence of the Earl of Tankerville, for example,—and arrived at Newcastle about nine o’clock in the evening. In the morning I delivered notes of introduction from Hooker and Greville to George Wailes, Esq., one of the active members of the Newcastle Natural History Society; visited their fine building and really splendid museum, especially rich in fossil remains and also in the British birds; made arrangements for correspondence and exchange with the Michigan State Survey; was introduced to a botanist or two; visited the castle built by Robert, brother of William the Conqueror, if I recollect aright, which has stood firmly for many a year, and may stand for centuries more, or as long as the world standeth.... Arrived at Durham at eight in the evening. I called almost immediately upon Professor Johnston[49] and delivered Doctor Torrey’s letter and parcel, when we recognized each other as fellow-passengers in the coach from Newcastle, he being a Scotch gentleman,—looking very like my friend Couthouy of the exploring expedition,—whom I was far from imagining would prove to be the professor in the Durham University; took my tea and spent the greater part of the evening with him. He told me he was just about to send a parcel to Doctor Torrey by a friend going next week to America. I must embrace this opportunity to send my letters, now forming a somewhat bulky parcel....
Spent Monday with Professor Johnston in his laboratory, witnessing the progress of some analyses of resins, etc., in which he is now much engaged; also went through the old castle, now used for the university; dined with Professor Johnston at four clock; returned to the hotel.... Took my tea with him, and he accompanied me at half past nine to the coach office whence I took coach for Leeds. I have little to say about Durham University, promising as it is in some respects, because they have adopted the monkish system of Oxford and Cambridge to the fullest extent; the professors and tutors except Johnston are all clergymen; the curriculum includes nothing but classics, a little mathematics, and less logic; their professor of natural philosophy never lectures; they give their professor of chemistry, mineralogy, and geology just fifty pounds a year (nothing for his experiments), and require no one to attend his lectures.