[19] Note 4.—‘They had a large library.’—Page 19.
The following account of this library is taken from Dr. John Brown’s delightful tract, The Enterkin. The author will excuse wholesale appropriation to illustrate a journal which, I believe, will be dear to him, and to all who feel as he does:—
‘The miners at Leadhills are a reading, a hard-reading people; and to any one looking into the catalogue of their “Reading Society,” selected by the men themselves for their own uses and tastes, this will be manifest. We have no small gratification in holding their diploma of honorary membership—signed by the preses and clerk, and having the official seal, significant of the craft of the place—of this, we venture to say, one of the oldest and best village-libraries in the kingdom, having been founded in 1741, when the worthy miners of that day, headed by James Wells and clerked by William Wright, did, on the 23d November, “condescend upon certain articles and laws”—as grave and thorough as if they were the constitution of a commonwealth, and as sturdily independent as if no Earl were their superior and master. “It is hereby declared that no right is hereby given, nor shall at any time be given, to the said Earl of Hopetoun, or his aforesaids, or to any person or persons whatever, of disposing of any books or other effects whatever belonging to the Society, nor of taking any concern with the Society’s affairs,” etc. As an indication of the wild region and the distances travelled, one of the rules is, “that every member not residing in Leadhills shall be provided with a bag sufficient to keep out the rain.” Here is the stiff, covenanting dignity cropping out—“Every member shall (at the annual meeting) deliver what he hath to say to the preses; and if two or more members attempt to speak at a time, the preses shall determine who shall speak first;” and “members guilty of indecency, or unruly, obstinate behaviour” are to be punished “by fine, suspension, or exclusion, according to the nature of the transgression.” The Westminster Divines could not have made a tighter job.’
[31b] Note 5.—‘The first view of the Clyde.’—Page 31.
This was not their first view of the Clyde. They had been travelling within sight of it without knowing it for full twenty miles
before this, ever since coming down the Daer Water from Leadhills to Elvanfoot: they there reached the meeting-place of that water with a small stream that flows from Ericstane. These two united become the Clyde.
[41] Note 6.—‘I wished Joanna had been there to laugh.’—Page 41.
Joanna Hutchinson, Mrs. Wordsworth’s sister. Among the ‘Poems on the Naming of Places’ is one addressed to her, in 1800, in which the following well-known lines occur:—
“As it befel,
One summer morning we had walked abroad
At break of day, Joanna and myself.
—’Twas that delightful season when the broom,
Full-flowered, and visible on every steep,
Along the copses runs in veins of gold.
Our pathway led us on to Rotha’s banks,
And when we came in front of that tall rock
That eastward looks, I there stopped short and stood
Tracing the lofty barrier with my eye
From base to summit; such delight I found
To note in shrub and tree, in stone and flower
That intermixture of delicious hues,
Along so vast a surface, all at once,
In one impression, by connecting force
Of their own beauty, imaged in the heart.
—When I had gazed perhaps two minutes’ space,
Joanna, looking in my eyes, beheld
That ravishment of mine, and laughed aloud;
The Rock, like something starting from a sleep,
Took up the Lady’s voice and laughed again;
That ancient woman seated on Helm Crag
Was ready with her cavern; Hammarscar,
And the tall Steep of Silverhaw, sent forth
A noise of laughter; southern Loughrigg heard,
And Fairfield answered with a mountain tone;
Helvellyn far into the clear blue sky
Carried the Lady’s voice,—old Skiddaw blew
His speaking-trumpet;—back out of the clouds
Of Glaramara southward came the voice;
And Kirkstone tossed it from his misty head.’