The grammar school which Shakespeare attended is still to be seen, and at the church they have the baptismal font used at his christening and the parish register in which his baptism and burial are entered. His grave is in the floor of the church and there is nothing to mark the stone slab that covers it but the familiar lines:
"Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbeare, To digg the dust enclosed heare. Bleste be ye man yt spares thes stones, And curst be he yt moves my bones."
At Edinburgh we saw the home of John Knox and were impressed anew with the tremendous influence which he exerted upon the religious life of Scotland. Seldom has it fallen to the lot of one man to so stamp his thought upon so many people. In Edinburgh also stands the little chapel, less known to tourists, in which the Covenanters met and in which the struggle began between them and the Church of England. It is hard to believe that so short a time ago there was a bloody war between two branches of the Protestant Church, in which thousands suffered martyrdom for their religious convictions.
We visited Loch Katrine and Loch Lomond, to which Scot has given a permanent place in literature, and after seeing them will not enter into a dispute with any Highlander, however extravagant his praise of these beautiful lakes. And if I may digress for a moment, we also visited the lakes of Killarney of which Moore sang. They also are beautiful enough to move a poet's heart and inspire a poet's pen, although to be truthful I must assert that Lake Tahoe, which shines like a jewel in the crown of the Sierras, on the boundary line between California and Nevada, need not fear comparison with any of the lakes of Scotland or Ireland. In one thing, however, we cannot compare with England, Scotland and Ireland, namely, the ivy-mantled ruin. It is picturesque and pleasing to the eye and yet who would exchange a plain cottage, occupied by a happy family, for the crumbling vine-clad walls of a tenantless castle?
From Glasgow we went by automobile to Ayr, the birthplace of Burns. Thirty-three miles out and thirty-three miles back, and it rained nearly the entire way! We were sustained amid the discomforts of the trip by our interest in Scotland's rustic bard, whose simple lays have endeared him to the universal heart, but our sympathies went out to two kind friends, Mr. McKillup, a member of parliament, and Mr. Henry Wright, a Glasgow barrister, who accompanied us. It was an humble cottage in which Burns first saw the light and in which he lived when he made the acquaintance of those rollicking companions, Tam O'Shanter and Souter Johnny. Near by is the famous bridge over the "Bonny Doon" of whose "banks and braes" he sang, and not far away are the old bridge and the new one which his fancy clothed with life and brought together in animated dialogue. After visiting the places and looking upon the scenes enshrined in literature by his verse one reads with even greater zest the homespun ballads of this impulsive apostle of democracy. I was glad to learn that increasing thousands wend their way to his birthplace each year and that among the visitors Americans are very numerous.
We reserved for the conclusion of our tour of the British Isles Hawarden Castle, the home of Gladstone. With our usual luck we reached Hawarden just as Mr. Henry Gladstone arrived from his home, eight miles away, and were taken through the house and grounds by him. The estate of several thousand acres, which came into the family from Mrs. Gladstone's ancestors, has just passed, according to the law of primogeniture, into the hands of a grandson of Mr. Gladstone. The new owner is a sober, studious young man who has already achieved distinction in college debates and who is preparing himself for a public career. While we enjoyed a drive through the woods and through the park, where the elder Gladstone was wont to cut down trees for exercise, our interest naturally centered in the big, roomy house, castle-like in its structure, and in the commodious library where England's Christian statesman labored for more than threescore years, for it must be remembered that his public life extended over two generations. The walls are concealed by books, and shelves jut out into the room at right angles. Gladstone was a prodigious worker and, amidst the cares of official life, found time to devote to the classics, to the sciences and to religious discussion. Among the busts in the room is one of Disraeli, his most conspicuous political antagonist. The prominence thus given to his distinguished opponent may possibly be explained, as Hercules explained the courtesy shown by him to the goddess whose enmity compelled him to perform the labors which made him immortal.
Opening off from the library is a fireproof vault in which Mr. Gladstone kept his papers and valuable documents, and he was so methodical that Mr. John Morley, his biographer, found the materials for his work in excellent order. Not far from the house is a large building, erected as a memorial to Gladstone, which contains his religious library of several thousand volumes. The family has built a dormitory adjoining the library to accommodate the students who come from all countries to study theological questions.
