Ex Libris 
 ■ C. K. OGDEN 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 
 LADY VICTOKIA CAMrP>KLI

 
 Phoic] 
 
 LALIY VICTuKlA CA.MPbhLL. 
 (I8.;5-) 
 
 {Frontispieu,
 
 vVMo!Xj' < C \ -><7/'/ 
 
 LADY 
 VICTORIA CAMPBELL 
 
 a n(>cinoii* 
 
 BV 
 
 LADY FRANCES BALEOUR 
 
 HODDER AND STOUGHTON 
 LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO
 
 
 TO HKR KKLLOW-WOKKKIl^ 
 
 IN 
 
 TlIK CnrUCH UF CHKI.sT 
 
 AND 
 
 TO THi: I'KorLE OF HKK lJi\K 
 
 IN THK HICHLANMS AND ISLANDS 
 
 THIS MEMORIAL LS DEDICATED 
 
 icir-^-? 
 
 .OvJofcJ
 
 
 PR HP ACE 
 
 A WORD of gratitude must be said to those who have 
 helped me to write tliese pages of remembrance. 
 
 I owe much to our brother, Lord Archibald Camp- 
 bell, iK)t only for the encouragemeut he gave me, 
 but also from what 1 loanicd when I saw him in the 
 islands. lie, with her, has lived for and amongst 
 the people. In their love for him, in his perfect 
 understJlndin^ of themselves and their homes, I 
 have seen the working of the selfsame spirit that 
 wrought so mightily in her. 
 
 Lady Mary Glyn has preserved a series of letters 
 which show how, through the changing years, no 
 shadow of change touched the love she bore for 
 those of her name and race. The second generation, 
 in her niece, Mrs. E<lgar Dugdale, has given a page 
 of recollections which is stamped with the vivid 
 lines of a true and loving picture. 
 
 Counsel, which has not failed from the first to the 
 last written word, I have had from her " London 
 Bishop," the Rev. Archibald Fleming; without his
 
 X PREFACE 
 
 supervision I must have completely failed iu my 
 effort. 
 
 Mr. Ritchie, of lona, 1ms given the Celtic design 
 on the cover of the book. He, in a friendship of 
 a lifetime, knows the inner meaning of the galley, 
 the symbol of her happy voyages over Life's tem- 
 pestuous sea. Miss Lee Richmond, whose beautiful 
 photographs of lona are known to every pilgrim to 
 the shrine of St. Columlja, has given the picture of 
 the window where Lady N'ictoria made her Siicrifice 
 of prayer and praise. 
 
 The photograph of herself in the buekbnard, 
 speaking to the two ministers, has been given to me 
 by Mr. Isaac Cowie, who took it when he waa 
 visiting Tiree as a deputy of the Foreign Mission 
 Committee. 
 
 The letters preserved by ^Irs. Macdiarmid give 
 the thread of the island story in words which arc 
 instinct with her life and purpose. 
 
 There are others, and one especially I name in 
 my heart, for without his strengthening aid I could 
 never have had the courage to attempt, in a time of 
 special personal sorrow, this work of Remembrance. 
 
 To those 1 name, and to the many who have given 
 me her written words or told ()f some deed of love 
 and toilsome adventure ; to those who have given 
 me tidings of her journeyings oft, of her organised 
 work, or who by some familiar quotation have re-
 
 
 PREFACE xi 
 
 called the dominant, vital character, the happy 
 laughter, the spirit of sympathy — to one and all 1 
 ofior the gratitude of a full heart. 
 
 They who love her with an undying rememhrancc 
 and hless the days that were hrightened by her 
 coming, thcvsc are they to whom I turn, confident of 
 forgiveness for all the shortcomings of these pages. 
 The^ alone know how the "deep dawn behind the 
 tomb" hides from earthly sense the radiant life that 
 was given to her friends. 
 
 " Ai^ .snineliiiu'ji m a dead man's faco, 
 To those that watcli it, more and moro 
 A likiMU'ss, hanlly Hcen bcfort*. 
 Comes out — to ."ome onr of hi>' rare. 
 
 •' So dearest, now thy bruws aiv cold, 
 Wo 80C theo what tliou art, and know 
 Tliy hkeness to the wise below, 
 Thy kindred with the great of old. 
 
 " But there is more tlian I can see, 
 And what I see I leave unsaid, 
 Nor speak it, knowing,' Death has matle 
 His darkness beautiful with thee." 
 
 F. B.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CUIl^tlOOU ANU HOME . . 1 
 
 rAOB 
 
 ClIAPTKK II 
 
 TOB OoUSKnOLD FIllKNl'S . .13 
 
 CHAlTKli III 
 
 rnOM DEATH UNTO UFB . . .31 
 
 CIIAITEK IV 
 uuat: FOR GOOD . . .5^ 
 
 CHAin^EK V 
 
 " PASTORS AND MASTERS " . . • . . .88 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 "ONB, THE MARCH IX GOD BEGUN" . . ,118
 
 xiv CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTKR VII 
 "and tiiey waken'd the men of tue wild tihbb' 
 
 CllAITKH Vlll 
 
 (( 
 
 THE KAIR UAVKNS 
 
 CHAITKK IX 
 
 " ETHICA 
 
 CHAin^KK X 
 
 NIGHEAN AN DIUC . 
 
 CHAITKK XI 
 "REST AND HE TnASurt" 
 
 rAOi 
 154 
 
 200 
 
 237 
 
 274 
 
 309
 
 
 ILLl STRAIIONS 
 
 Lady Victuria Campbbli. nsSTj) . FnmtMfs*^* 
 
 AlUlV'l.L I.oIx.K . .8 
 
 Klikahetii Campion . 24 
 
 KuzAnrrn Kisis . 'J I 
 
 Lady Victoria Campbell (IbUJ; ... 32 
 
 Lady Victoria Camphkll (1871) . . .32 
 
 Lady Km ma McNbiix . 48 
 
 Eluauctu, Duchwb op Arctll (186«) . .64 
 
 Lady Victoria Campbell (1885) . .80 
 
 Iona Cathedral, Window. South Transept .144 
 
 tAizABKTH Knowlk . . . .160
 
 xvi ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 George, Srn Duke ok Auuyll, k.t., k.o. . .192 
 
 Cross or EuzABErn, Ducubss op Argyll, Iona . 224 
 
 loNA Cathedral . ... 224 
 
 Cottages in Tiuee ... 256 
 
 Island Honn ...... 288 
 
 ScARiNisn Harbour .... 288 
 
 Toe Rev. Dugald Maclean, Rkv. T. 8. Macpiikr80S«, 
 Lauy Victoria Cami'uell in iikr liucKUOAiiD, and 
 
 JoDN MacKinnon ..... 336
 
 
 CHAPTEn T 
 cnn.DnouD and home 
 
 "Oh, ilu- pirilcu I rtnien)l>er 
 In the gay and nuuny njiring." 
 
 Victoria Campiiell, tlie thin.1 tiaiiglitor and eighth 
 child of the J)uk«» and Diuhoss of Arfryll, was horn 
 in London on May 22nd. 18r>l. Tlic house whore her 
 parents were Hving at that time was in CarUon House 
 Terrace. Ar^zyll I^ultje, the Ix)ndon home of the 
 family, had only just Ikm-u juirchased and was not yet 
 ready for occupation ; hut very soon after this furtlur 
 addition to the already large family, the new home- 
 stead was entered and became a centre of life and 
 interest to a wide circle of frienils and relatives. It 
 was a year of deep anxiety at home and abroad. 
 The Crimean War had begun, and the Duke records 
 '• how the final order to launch our comparatively 
 small army of some 30,000 men on the shores of the 
 greatest military country in the world was a trans- 
 action in which the closing forma Uties make a deep 
 impression. The final reading of the draft despatch 
 directing Lord Raglan to employ the Army in an 
 attack on the Russians in the Crimea came after a 
 Cabinet dinner held at Lord John Russell's house in 
 Richmond Park." It was near midnight when the
 
 2 CHILDHOOD AND HOME 
 
 momontous meeting broke up, and the Duke records 
 his pleasure as he escaped into the sweet and cahn 
 air of a f^lorious summer nif^ht. He olTcrcd Mi-. 
 Gladstone a drive lionie in his oj)en carriaf^e. " ll 
 was midsummer, and the air was full of the smell 
 of all the blossoms that made sweet the whole 
 air of suburban London at that season of the year." 
 In those anxious hours, he must have thought with 
 a sense of peace of the home into which he was just 
 about to enter with the little daughter to whom 
 Argyll Lodge was to mean so much throughout her 
 life. 
 
 In the Duke's autobiography he tells the tale of 
 its purchase: "Just at that time (LSoU) we heard 
 that a villa on Campdcn Hill, which had long been 
 well known in Lond«)n as the residence of the 
 Dowager Duchess of Bedford, was for sale. It had 
 four acres of land about it, beautifully planted, 
 and two very old oaks in the grounds would 
 have done no discredit to anv ant ient chase in 
 England. It was next to Hollaml Park, and abso- 
 lutely removed from all noi.sc of trafiic. We went to 
 see it, and the first thing I saw out of the late Duke 
 of Bedford's room was a fine lawn covered with 
 starlings, hunting for grubs and insects in their very 
 peculiar fashion ; moreover, there were other birds 
 in abundance. To mv amazement I saw nuthatches 
 moving over the trees as if they were in some deep 
 English woodland. Flycatchers and warblers were 
 also visible to my accustomed eye. There were 
 objections ; distance was to be considered. But
 
 . CHIIJ)IH)()I) AXD HOME 3 
 
 the birds settled everything. Ail duubls and dilli- 
 culties vanished before the rnnnnapjin^ of the starHnpp, 
 the darting of the flyeatehers, and the agile chnibing 
 of the nuthatehes. Under sueh stinudus from birds 
 it seemed cjuitc a subordinate consideration that the 
 lawn would be perfect for the children, and perfect 
 too for breakfast parties. I returned (<» town, 
 and instructed my agent at once to jturchase Bedford 
 liodge." 
 
 vk)(jn after the christening of Lady Victoria the 
 family moved to Campden Hill, and the hfe there 
 was begun which was only to end with the death 
 of the Duke in l!)()i\ when the house pa-scd back 
 into the hands of »Sir Walter IMiillimore. 
 
 In 1854 J)r. Cumming, of Crown Court Church, 
 was at the height of his great fame. 1 lis was then the 
 principal church representing in Ixjiidon the Church of 
 Scotland. The Disruption liad carried with it the 
 church built in Ucgmt S(piare for Edward Irving 
 and the other Scottish churches. 
 
 H Dr. Cumming was wrong in his confident prophecy 
 and advice to the Government, and tradition Siiys he 
 was one of those who fortified the deluded Lt)rd 
 Advocate with the prediction that " only a very few 
 would come out," he at least kept Crown Court finnly 
 attached to the National Church; and when St. 
 George's, in Edinburgh, with other large churches 
 left vacant by the Disruption, gave him a call to 
 come and strengthen the things which remained, he 
 refused to leave the church and the Hock which 
 followed his ministrv in London.
 
 4 CHILDHOOD AND HOME 
 
 At that date his proachinf^ was free of the interpreta- 
 tion of propliecy to wliirli he (hn'oted so much of 
 his thought in the hiter years of his long ministry. 
 The Duke attended Crown Court Church, and Dr. 
 Cuniming ])aplized several members of the family. 
 Queen Victoria desired the Duke to call his daughter 
 by her name, and Dr. Cumming adminiistered the 
 rite of baptism. 
 
 There was a family legend that the child screamed 
 so loudly and insistently, that her father iinpatientlv 
 ordered her to be removed from the room before the 
 christening took place. No doubt she was hastilv 
 removed after its administration, and before the 
 close of the service. It was a great joke to I^ulv 
 Victoria, especially as the record in the registr}' 
 could never be found for her inspection. In one of 
 the last years of her hfe she sent Mr. Macrae, the 
 minister of Cro\Mi Court, an inkstand made from 
 lona marble, recpiesting him to use it for the proper 
 registration of the infants baptize<l by him, and she 
 used to say that the matter should be made certain, 
 and she should receive, "conditional" baptism, 
 though the day was far spent. 
 
 At ^\rg}-ll Lodge her infant years were passed, and 
 the circumstances of her life made it a place of more 
 constant residence for her than for the rest of the 
 family. Like her father, she dearly loved the home 
 of her childhood, and in later years especiallv 
 dehghted in its peaceful surroundings. 
 
 Secluded Campden Hill remains even now, but in 
 the early fifties, from the upper windows of these
 
 .^CIITLDIIOOD AND HOME 5 
 
 \ illas set on this pleasant height, the eye ranged over 
 many a wide grass-field, now filled by busy streets. 
 The Crystal Palace, recently re-erected, ghttered on 
 the southern heights of Sydenham; l)ut then, as 
 to-day, south aiul west, " grey Sussex fading into 
 blue," bounded the far-distant view. 
 
 The roar of London broke on the ear at a more 
 remote distance, and the children grew up amongst the 
 trees and on the spacious lawn, where there was sufii- 
 cient pasturage for a cow kept specially for the benefit 
 of the nursery. The glowing flower-garden, planted 
 in the Itahan style, lay to the west of the house, gay 
 in summer with its bedded-out plants, and bounded 
 by the great forest trees of Holland Park, divided 
 only by Nightingale Lane from the gardens of the 
 liili. 
 
 Fur many years a time-gun was fired at midnight 
 from HoUaiul Park, and its boom was listened to with 
 awe by the inhabitants of the nursery. The suscep- 
 tible nerves of a more modern generation put an end 
 to this s;ilute, but u chiming clock of pecuhar sweet- 
 ness of tone still warns the natives of Kensington 
 that time has carried away the generations which 
 have grown up under its silvery notes. The clock was 
 an early instructor in the habit of complete and 
 perfect punctuahty which was so marked a feature 
 in the daily hfe of Lady Victoria. 
 
 The Lodge was, and still is, a hamit of ancient 
 peace, of a character hard to fmd now within a much 
 wider radius of London. Home lands are made by the 
 lives lived in them. The Lodge was no mere place
 
 6 CHILDHOOD AND HOME 
 
 in which to sleep, and from which to rush in an un- 
 ending round of social cnf,'agements. It was the 
 centre where the Duke lived surrounded hy his 
 family, and where he carried on all hLs work, literary 
 and pubhc, and the spreading trees and wide verandah 
 gave shade and air to his colleagues and friends, who 
 sought the society of himself and the Duchess. 
 
 From those social gatherings the children were never 
 excluded. They were brought up in the best of all 
 schools, with a hearing ear to the conversiition of the 
 men and women who were fiHing the stage of life, 
 and working in their day and generation. 
 
 One of the Duke's greatest pleasures in becoming a 
 resident of Camjxlen Hill was to find himself a 
 neighbour of Lord Macaulay. He lived at Holly 
 Lodge, and the elder members of the family recall 
 his student walk to and fro in his verandah, and his 
 freciuent arrivals to sit under the horse-chestnut tree 
 on the lawn at Argyll I>odge. 
 
 One of the sisters had been out purchasing a birth- 
 day present for a brother, and came rushing down 
 the green slope to announce that the chosin volume 
 was the then new " Macaulay 's Lays." Seeing him 
 seated in the circle, the narrator came to an abrupt 
 pause. " That is right, my dear," was his quick 
 comment, " never praise an author to his face." 
 Macaulay was not to be a neighlwur for long, and in 
 a few short years the chilUng tidings crept across the 
 sunny lawns that the great historian, whose fore- 
 bears had been ministers in the Argyll country, 
 had been fomid dead in his library.
 
 CHILDHOOD AND HOME 7 
 
 The next comers to Holly Lodge changed its name 
 into Airlie Lodge, and another Scottish family came 
 into residence. 
 
 The boy, who long years after was to die as Lord 
 Airlie on Diamond Hill, as gallant a soldier as ever 
 breathed, even in that race to which he belonged, 
 asked in some natural anxiety whether the neighbour- 
 hood of the two famihes meant that Argyll would 
 again " burn down the bonnie house of Airlie," to 
 wlijeh they had just arrived. 
 
 It is a picture easy to recall, though the day and its 
 tender grace has fled. The air less smoke-laden 
 than to-day, and heavy with the scent of lilac and 
 may. The groups of men and women of illustrious 
 mind and bearing gathered on Sunday afternoons 
 in the shadow and shine of the grassy slopes. The 
 syringa bushes, and Madonna lilies in long lines in 
 the flower garden, and the sound of the gardeners 
 with their scythes in the dewy mornings. The nursery 
 and schoolroom full to overllowing, and the garden 
 ringing with the call of the birds and the play of the 
 children. A fair beginning to hfe's pilgrimage, 
 and a place of hap})y memories to look back upon 
 when the road became less smooth and the way more 
 dillicult. 
 
 Lady Victoria was a particularly sturdy, active 
 child, and can be remembered by her companions 
 as moving incei>santly and rumiing about with great 
 energy till she was in about her fifth year, and then 
 the story of her future can be told in a few words 
 which her mother wrote to Lady Emma Campbell :
 
 8 CHILDHOOD AND HOME 
 
 " Poor Victoria has a very strange attack of rheu- 
 matism, without fever. She is completely disabled, 
 and cannot move her legs. Dr. Allan says it is not at 
 all uncommon, and thinks she will he quite well in 
 two or three weeks, at most. In other ways she 
 seems quite well. She does not mind heuig stationary 
 as much as most children would." There follows a 
 later letter where the diagnosis was more accurate : 
 " We went with \'ictoria to Brodie. I think it is 
 very much the same view as Simpson's. He has 
 seen many worse cases recover, and many of non- 
 recovery. He calls it, as Simpson did, Infantile 
 Paralysis. He thinks the gouty element has to do 
 with it — not scarlet fever. Blistering would have 
 been of no use. He recommends very small doses 
 of mercury and rubbing, but it i.s clearly a case 
 where man can do httle." 
 
 From that time till her fourteenth year her life 
 was bounded by the ellorts to treat successfully the 
 condition of complete lameness in which the attack 
 had left her. The treatment was always slow, 
 and necessitated her being near the various exponents 
 of the cures. Liverpool, Brighton, and London 
 were the places in which she had to live, and she was 
 often separated for many months from the rest of the 
 family. There was much suflermg, very literally, 
 at the hands of many physicians, and one surgical 
 operation, which in the hght of modern knowledge 
 would never have been performed, rendered a com- 
 plete cure hopeless. 
 The most successful and longest treatment, ex-

 
 .CHILDHOOD AND HOME 9 
 
 tending over some fifteen years, was used by Dr. 
 Kotli, of London and Brighton, and Lady Victoria 
 always said she owed much to his "cure," and to 
 his unwearying eflorts to fit her with the mechanical 
 instruments which afterwards aided so materially 
 the activities of her life. Much less would have been 
 accomphshed had it not been for the conscientious 
 energy, which even from childhood she })ut into 
 following the tedious course of exercises and treat- 
 ment prescribed. 
 
 One of her sisters was associated with her in later 
 years, and was j)laced under the Siime physician 
 for another form of lameness. 8hc recalls the con- 
 tinuous efTurts, often very exhausting, to carry out 
 the directions and use the gymnastic movements 
 prescribed, and how on the return home Lady 
 Victoria would go back to the schoolroom, wilhng 
 to apply her nund to study, in a way her companion 
 had no intention of imitating, although she had not 
 worked as hard as her sister in the gymnasium. 
 
 Dr. Koth substituted sticks for the crutches, on 
 which the child moved with extraordinary rapidity. 
 At one time there seemed a prospect that she might 
 be able to walk with only one stick, but it needed 
 patience, and would always have been slower, and 
 finding she could move more quickly with two, 
 Lady Victoria abandoned the attempt, and learned 
 to use with equal speed the sticks which were to be 
 such veritable pilgrim's staffs through her Ufe. 
 
 Her lameness was a heavy cross to a spirit so 
 energetic and impatient, and few who encountered
 
 10 CHILDHOOD AND HOME 
 
 her sunny acceptance of her disabilities realised how 
 much she had to learn in the great school of patience, 
 or how much sufl'ering was involved in the constant 
 double exertion all movement cost her. 
 
 Fortunately, the disiiblement came early, and 
 became a second nature, but it never ceased to be a 
 conscious trial ; one she rarely spoke of as a thorn 
 in the flesh, but it was one, and she could never forget 
 the dilliculties which encompassed her. 
 
 Her couch became to her the place where she 
 learned the deepest and highest eonverse with the 
 life unseen, and in the heights and depths her spirit 
 found rest and peace. She understood what her 
 cross, so gallantly borne, had brought into her own 
 life, an experience which made her a guide and help 
 to others. 
 
 To many the thought of her is associated with the 
 figure prone on the sofa, so alert in face and 
 action, and her cheery voice going out in welcome ; 
 and only since she has gone have they fully realised 
 that that couch had become to her and to those who 
 gathered round her bright, sympathetic presence, a 
 place which might indeed be called " Bethel." 
 
 As a cliild, she was encouraged as far as possible to 
 live the hfe of the family at Inveraray. IShc joined 
 her sisters in their rides. It r^'quired courage in 
 those who sent her forth, strapped into a Spanish 
 Siiddle on the back of one of those island ponies she 
 was to know more about in her future hfe. She 
 was as fearless a rider of the horse as of the ocean 
 waves, and her steed was always pushed well to the
 
 .CHILDHOOD AND HOME 11 
 
 front ill the scampering party from the school- 
 room. 
 
 Later on, she drove a pair of grey cobs in a four- 
 seated pony - carriage. Driving herself was one of 
 her greatest pleasures. She had a light hand and a 
 strong arm, and she and her horses were soon on 
 terms of understanding. After she had this inde- 
 pendent mode of conveyance, she used to plan her 
 il rives so as to stop at as many cottages as she was 
 abh', and they were never complete if she had not 
 visited some old friend or tiiken the needful to the sick. 
 A less successful vehicle was a small goat-carriage, 
 drawn by two goats. It was always dillicult to siiy 
 when the goats were doing their best, or when jil)bing 
 from obstinacy. The family were too inclined to be 
 merciful to the beasts, and insisted, to the disgust 
 of the coachman, that the splinter-bar should be 
 padded so that the goats' hindquarters would not 
 be inconvenienced when, instead of pulling, they 
 sat down and contemplated the road they should be 
 trotting along. 
 
 " Blackberry," the donkey, belonged to a still 
 later day, but he and a series of small i>onies were 
 great allies of Liidy Victoria's, when her riding days 
 were done, and her visits through the town demanded 
 some smaller form of conveyance than the carriage 
 drawn by the beautiful greys called after the islands, 
 " Largie " and " Sanda.'' 
 
 It was a long struggle to gain back even a measure 
 of activity, but the happy, buoyant nature, with 
 the keen vitaUty of youth, carried her through the
 
 12 CHILDHOOD AND HOME 
 
 years till she was fourteen, when a great change passed 
 over her. She hved the life appointed by her con- 
 ditions as fully as it could be Uved. As one of a 
 large family, and perhaps getting as such too little 
 individual attention, on the other hand she did 
 not suffer from being considered an invahd. The 
 memory glances back on the child with the thick 
 golden hair and the sunny smile being wheeled 
 about, or carried in the arms of those surrounding 
 her, or racing home on the back of the pony, the 
 leader of those who were reluctantly returning to 
 less pleasant occupations. 
 
 She had a strong resemblance to both sides of the 
 family. The maid who was wheeUng her along the 
 parade at 15righton saw two ladies in evident argu- 
 ment concerning her charge. At last they approached 
 and inquired if she was not a relative of Harriet, 
 Duchess of Sutherland, and when they were told 
 that she was a granddaughter, they 8;iid that the 
 carriage of the head had enabled them to identify 
 the child and be certain of her descent. 
 
 Her love of home life was always marked, and 
 prol)al)ly the frequent absences necessitated by the 
 medical treatment enhanced the joy with which she 
 returned to the society of her parents, and the large 
 circle of brothers and siisters who from the earUest 
 days loved to see her in their midst.
 
 * 
 
 CIIAPTEK IT 
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD FrJENDS 
 
 " We were gentle among you, even as a nurse 
 cherisheth her chiKlren." 
 
 The biogra])lier of Ar(.lil)isliop Tait records what he 
 owed to his old nurse, Betty Morton. Dr. Davidson 
 says : "It is surely a fact worth noticing that three 
 at least among the leading puhhc men of our genera- 
 tion, Lord Shaftesbury, Ivord Lawrence, and Arch- 
 bishop Tait, have each of them, in recaUing the main 
 influences which contributed to mould their hves, 
 assigned a foremost place to the nurse of their early 
 years. And, as Lord Lawrence's biographer has said, 
 ''there are few ties more sacred and indissoluble than 
 those which unite the younger, ay, and the elder, 
 members of a family to an old and trusted nurse.'" 
 
 There are many famihes who, reading such words 
 as these, or Robert Louis Stevenson's dedicatory lines 
 to Alison Cmminghame : 
 
 •' For all you pitictl, all you bore, 
 In sad and happy days of yore : 
 ^ly second mother, my first wife, 
 The angel of my infant life," 
 
 recall at once what such lives of unselfish love and 
 self-sacrificing service have been in their own time, 
 
 13
 
 14 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 
 
 and they form a beautiful background in tlieir 
 remembrance of early childhood. 
 
 The Argyll children were especially fortunate in 
 being surrounded by a household whose lives had 
 been spent in the family service, in some instances 
 for more than one generation. 
 
 Elizabeth Campion was the family nurse for over 
 twenty years. She was a woman of a striking appear- 
 ance. Her clean-cut, pale features were framed by 
 two curls, secured by combs which projected from a 
 close fitting cap, whic h she was rarely seen without. 
 She always wore, when dressed for the afternoon, 
 a black silk gown, secured by a 8ohd gold brooch, 
 the pin of which elTectually helpetl her <harges to 
 obey the admonishing word, " Not to untidy me, 
 there's a dear." Within loose, hanging sleeves, she 
 wore close-fitting ones of snowy lawn, and in this 
 costume, which to nursery eyes was part of their 
 " Nana," she would escort the children, one in her 
 arms, and a troop around the ample spread of her 
 skirts, downstairs to regions outside the nursery. 
 
 Her rule was a despotic one, and her numerous 
 nurserymaids did not find their posts a sinecure. 
 The standard set them was high and strenuous, and 
 " my girls " were not allowed much repose, nor was 
 any amusement countenanced. The servants she 
 trained are scattered far and wide, but in homes of 
 their own many of them have remembered the 
 unswerving integrity and deep devotion of the mother- 
 heart, which was given so entirely to the children 
 of her affection.
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 15 
 
 The ailing and siifTering among the nursUngs 
 can recall the sleepless hours soothed by her vigil 
 and ministration. Bishop Ken's evening hymn her 
 lullaby, and the sound of her voice breaking the 
 feverish unrest of pain, her kindly arms the pro- 
 tection from the terrors of the night. 
 
 Failing eyesight obliged her to retire before the 
 birth of the last and twelfth member of the family ; 
 a bitter and lasting grief to herself and the children 
 whg loved her with the love which was the only 
 compensiition she ever cared for. The remainder of 
 her life was spent in a house as near Argyll Lodge 
 as was possible, and on a route where she was sure 
 of seeing some mend)ers of the family pass the window 
 in which she was always keeping watch. Her long 
 life ended in 1878, leaving the children of her love 
 a memory time has not dimmed, and one which Ls held 
 in grateful remembrance. 
 
 The interests of these retainers were so entirely one 
 with the interests of the family in which they lived 
 and loved, that service passed into the closest friend- 
 ship and community of intercourse. 
 
 The conditions of service were not those of to-day. 
 Wages had not reached the standard to which they 
 have now attained. Holidays and days out were 
 few and far between. Looking back, it is diliicult to 
 recall a single instance of a prolonged hohday, unless 
 there was some urgent call of sickness or distress 
 in their own famihes. The unrest and love of change 
 of the present day, these unsettled conditions have 
 all altered the hfe of the homestead, but assuredly
 
 10 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 
 
 those who have not the remembrance of households 
 passing their days with the family have lost a rich 
 experience. 
 
 The oldest of the household friends was Elizalx'th 
 King, whose life was entirely spent on the Argyll 
 estates, and in the service of three generations 
 of the family. 
 
 She was the daughter of the estate carpenter, 
 John King, a member of a family of the old Scottish 
 type. A rigid Calvinist, and a man who might have 
 sat to Sir Walter Scott for his character of Davie 
 Deans. Lizzie was brought up under the strictest 
 discipHne, and the creed of her home was the simple 
 one of *' Fear CJud, and honour the Duke." She 
 entered the ser\nce of George, sixth Duke of Argyll, 
 ill the Castle at llosneath. Ills brother, Ixird John 
 Campbell, lived then in Ardencaple Castle, the two 
 houses standing on opposite sides of the Gareloch. 
 As Ix)rd John's two sons John and George grew up, 
 they were often across the loch, shooting on the 
 Rosneath estate, and having a " piece " in the 
 Castle, where the young caretaker looked after their 
 wants. On the death of Duke George, Ix)rd John 
 Campbell succeeded to the title, and liis son Lord 
 T^rne, having married I^ady Ehzal>eth I>eveson- 
 Gower, the daughter of the Duke of Sutherland, 
 the Castle at Rosneath was given them for their 
 residence. 
 
 A short biographical notice of the life of this de- 
 voted friend and servant was wTittcn many years ago 
 for the pages of " IJfc and AVork." Lady Victoria
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 17 
 
 put togethef some notos of her own recollections in 
 order to aid the writer. They have now a double 
 int<»rest, as she was one of the group of children to 
 whom she alludes, and they gather into her own 
 the recollections of her father the Duke. The tie 
 between these two friends was a peculiar one. It 
 extended over the Ufetinie of both, and in years they 
 were not far apart. Lizzie, the vigilant caretaker of 
 the Castle, \Vhen she was under twenty, was the same 
 |)ersonaUty to the end. ** Maister George," the sUght 
 lad with the red-gold hair, walking up from the boat, 
 gun in hand, as he landed for his day's shooting, 
 had the Siime indi vidua Hty to the close of his hfe. 
 Hiippiest when out and about, the student of God'a 
 " fair creat ion " ; Living a hfe austere in its sim- 
 pUcity, and seeking no other amusement or variety, 
 save in those brought to him by the changing seasons 
 and the book of Nature. 
 
 His life was to be cast in *' the Parliament of man," 
 in the tumult of the great City, in the stress of pohtical 
 contlict. It was not the world of his inner hfe, and he 
 was always yearning to be apart in the peace of Nature. 
 It was ever a rest to him when he could leave the 
 necessar}' conditions of his large household and social 
 duties, and hve the simple life of his early youth. 
 " A barefoot lassie, the best waiter," he would say, 
 and there was nothing the Duke loved better than to 
 find himself under conditions where Elizabeth King 
 would both cook and serve the broth, which she alone 
 could make, " as none other." That was a time of 
 old reminiscences, and the happy jokes the Duke
 
 18 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 
 
 would make with her were in amusing contrast to 
 the attitude of devotion and awe she had for one 
 who had been for all her life the centre of her homage 
 and service. 
 
 The notes made by Lady Victoria are placed here, 
 practically as they were written. They tell their own 
 story and need httle explanation. 
 
 " Whatever the advantages the young generation 
 may enjoy, and no one doubts there are and will be 
 many, it seems pretty certain the ' family piece,' in 
 the form of the lifrloiig friend in domestic service, will 
 not be a feature in the households of a future day. 
 
 "The fact that more than one society offers a 
 reward for the benefit of young women who retain 
 their situations for three years })oints to this change 
 in modern hfe. 
 
 "The half anmsed, half scornful smile which played 
 on the face of one of these old sers'ants, as she heard 
 the terms of this reward, would amuse my readers 
 as nmch as it did me. 
 
 " Lizzie King was a part of her master s earliest 
 recollections, and naturally his children never knew 
 a time when * Kingie ' was not part of their lives. 
 
 *' The Duke used to s;iv that the old woman, who was 
 housekeeper to the last in his service, was ' exactly 
 the same ' in outward a}>pearance, as when a girl 
 she would o})en the door of Kosneath Castle to him 
 and his elder brother, when they came across the loch 
 for a day's shooting in the woods. 
 
 'It is ditlicult to describe her appearance. To us 
 she seemed so nmch a part of our lives. I recall the
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 19 
 
 piizz)cd, half vexed feeliiif^ when my father remarked, 
 
 * Kingie was not good looking.' The shoek was so 
 great as to evoke a burst of laughter, as he called on 
 my artistic sense to describe in her anything of 
 
 * beauty.' 
 
 " Well ! It was true her eyes were small and brown, 
 and her short sight obliged her to use spectacles, in 
 which we said she slept. The framework of the face 
 was wide, and her complexion was a dead white, 
 and ill early youth her hair was probably auburn. 
 
 "She had a refined, sensitive mouth and good teeth. 
 (I believe they were false ; if so, they grew as I remem- 
 ber them !) No one can deny the trim form, the quick, 
 light step. She had the most perfect tact, ever ready 
 for speech or silence, and her smile was one of the most 
 gracious and sunny that ever broke over the face of 
 woman, and yet how stern she could be ! Brought 
 up under the rigid Calvinistic roof of her father, 
 John King, one could hear the echoes of his voice, 
 and trace the look of determination in his eye, as his 
 daughter gave the account of bitter tears being shed 
 . by her, because of her wish and his refusal to allow 
 her, at the age of fifteen, to enter the Ardencaple 
 household as nursery maid to the wee Maister George. 
 
 * Na, Na, Lizzie, it is a hoosefu' of strange servants, 
 ye maun wait till ye are older.' 
 
 'And so it came to pass, Lizzie's service began a 
 very few years after this in the old house, under the 
 eye of that father who daily inspected every beam, 
 door, and chinmey, and taught his daughter the 
 meiining of faithful service.
 
 20 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 
 
 "It was against all iiilts Lizzie King should thus be 
 lionsekropcr at such a tender ago, and before she had 
 duly served in all the mysterious grades whieh con- 
 stitute the well-ordered life of a large household. 
 Yet, what other title could be given her? Her 
 ap})rentieeship was perfect for the simple re^ason 
 Old John King was the one general superintendent. 
 Woe unto Lizzie if boards were not kept as clean as 
 might suflice for serving a meal, or if ever a s})ider 
 wove its web in any corner, however remote ! A 
 girl was hired to keep her company and help in the 
 work. She had l)oard wages of seven shillings and 
 sixpence a week, and that was sufficient for the 
 porridge and milk, the broth, and the eggs which 
 were her fare, and out of that ' abundance ' she was 
 always supplying something for the wants of others. 
 
 ** In 1847 the * Maister George,' of Kingie's would-be 
 nursery days, succeeded his father. 
 
 '* Probably, it was at this date that anything like 
 formal recognition of Lizzie's position became neces- 
 sary. For two years Rosneath Castle had been the 
 home of the Marquis of Lome, and his young wife 
 had won the loving reverence hitherto bestowed 
 on ' George and Enmia Campbell,' but still it was 
 a moot question, one that no one cared to solve, as 
 to which of the households she belonged. 
 
 " Lizzie made her decision promptly. Whether the 
 touch of Highland blood in this daughter of a cove- 
 nanting house enabled her to foresee that the Dowager 
 Duchess would in a few years' time join the Church 
 of Kome, it is hard to say. U she did have a pre-
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 21 
 
 vision, there was no question as to her remaining in 
 such service. The Argylls who identified them- 
 selves with Rome had no existence for Ehzabeth 
 King ! To her there was only one * great Marquis,' 
 and one * testifying Earl.* They had laid their heads 
 on the scafl'old, and for Christ's Crown and Covenant, 
 no one doubted that if called upon, this daughter 
 of the Covenant would also have faced cheerfully 
 stake or gallows. 
 
 " The grace of toleration or Christian charity had 
 liigged behind in Kiugie's education, and long years 
 after, when the children repeated something akin to 
 bitterness from the lips of their beloved old woman, 
 the mother said gravely : * Perhaps better not talk 
 to Kingie of Roman CathoUcs.' To be strictly just, 
 we nmst hint that on this occasion Kingie's wrath 
 had broken out on the question of some of her 
 Duke's rights being interfered with, which led her to 
 express a doubt whether she could go through the 
 ceremonv of wearing mourning for one who had not 
 put her master's claims in the first rank for considera- 
 tion. I can recall my father's quiet smile as he 
 listened to liis children's tales of the caustic remarks, 
 and my mother's reproof ; while he, silent and 
 absorbed, divided his time between his pubUc work 
 and watching by the dea,th-bed of the Dowager 
 Duchess, who had been associated with his boyhood 
 since he was seven years old. He received her last 
 directions and her dying blessing, for, however they 
 had ditlered in outward forms, they had met at the 
 end, in the ties of family life, and of conduct not
 
 22 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 
 
 only dutiful but instinct with a wide and beautiful 
 charity. 
 
 " The most vivid recollection I have of Kingie is 
 when she took charge of a separated group of children 
 at the tinie when scarlet fever had come among the 
 large family, and the head nurse was shut of! with the 
 wee ones. How she would Hit in and out, and, 
 hel[)ed by the trained nurse, supply all our wants ! 
 
 " Then came days of convalescence, when a pet 
 lamb was brought in, to play with the boy and girl 
 who were on their feet. H an^'thing could have 
 worn out the strong matting of long ago, it might 
 have been done then in the races which were run 
 with this lamb, which entered into all our fun in a 
 way I cannot understand now, looking at sheep and 
 lambs, chiefly in island fields. 
 
 ** Those were also days of discipHne ! To go to the 
 housekeeper's room for tea was the height of happi- 
 ness, and only to be enjoyed after a course of good 
 behaviour. 
 
 *' There came a day when the brother was shut into 
 some upper room, so dark had been the crime. 
 The sister, fourteen months junior, got hold of the 
 nature of the sin, not of its depth ! She presented 
 herself in front of the two reddish white curls, and 
 spectacled face, and she pleaded : ' It was a very 
 little one, Kingie ! ' * Na, na, dearie, there arc 
 no Uttle ones, they arc a' big ones.' * Well then, 
 Kingie, he is very sorr^*.* ' Then he must come 
 and tell me so himself ; but I canna have him to-day. 
 He is a uaughtie, naughtie boy.'
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 2^ 
 
 " Those were days when nerves were not studied, 
 nor spoken of as they are now, yet how lovingly did 
 this woman study temperament ! I remember the 
 terror one of us had at a big white bulldog, whose 
 special delight it was to howl over our fat httlo 
 forms. A bright idea occurred to Kingie. If the 
 dog could belong to one of the most frightened ? 
 
 " * How much is it, Kmgie ? I have threepence.* 
 
 " ' No, it must be fourpence ! ' 
 
 *' ller brother, hearing this, and looking with com- 
 passion on the bankrupt httle maiden, produced the 
 other penny. The price thus paid, the damsel 
 beUeved that Fanny must hereafter give more respect 
 to her mistress, and they Uved in greater comfort 
 together. 
 
 ** In the succeeding years a black * Fanny ' replaced 
 the white. A splendid Newfoundland, who let the 
 whole nursery sit upon her at once, and fur the 
 dehght of her playfellows, produced at intervals a lot 
 of * photographs,' as Kingie called the Utter of pups, 
 when she brought them up to the nursery to be 
 claimed, named, and beribboned by the children. 
 There was a sigh of rehef deep down in the heart of 
 the small maiden who had purchased the first Fanny, 
 although she did not enjoy exclusive ownership in 
 this last arrival. 
 
 ** Which of us does not remember the httle 
 figure in the dark blue cotton print, the cap- 
 strings fluttering in the salt morning and evening 
 breeze. 'Away dowTi to the cottage,' carrying some 
 dainty to the old mother who spent a long eventide
 
 24 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 
 
 in the cottage by the loch. The same figure comhig 
 do\\Ti to the gravel point, to stuff peppermints into 
 the mouths of children, on whom the orthodox dip 
 had been practised; or, best of all, was the sight of 
 those fluttering ensigns of welcome, when the barge, 
 rowed by the estate servants, came across from 
 Helensburgh, bringing weary travellers from the 
 south. 
 
 " With the arrival of the Lady Lome, a new claim 
 was made on Lizzie's wann heart. No one under- 
 stood her better than my mother. She reahsed 
 she had in the young * caretaker ' a woman who 
 was not only a clever, rehable servant, but one fitted 
 to be what she was through all her long Hfe, the 
 intimate friend of herself and her children. She 
 knew all the family aflairs. She knew, and what was 
 more, shared with deepest sympathy most of the 
 hopes and fears and dilhculties which must surround 
 the lives of twelve children, from their parents* 
 point of view. She knew many secrets, and when 
 the news became pubhc property, none ever guessed 
 from her manner that she knew all that was to be 
 known before the rest of the world. 
 
 " ^^^lat Lizzie was to her master and mistress, that 
 she was to their children. Faithful in service, she 
 insisted that servants and children should be equally 
 faithful. Her manner was a fine mixture of the 
 deepest respect, with a gift of racy and terse ex- 
 pression. She knew well when to take opportunity 
 by the hand, and her tact was never at fault. We 
 can all recall her entrance into the drawing-room at

 
 TJIE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 25 
 
 some moment when she knew she would be welcome, 
 and beside my mother's chair she would make her 
 requests known : tell of the new ideas of work 
 and wage entertained by the modern * girls/ 
 usually making excuses for their weakness, smoothing 
 over the ditliculties, and never leaving without 
 having won by her gentle firnmess all that was 
 necessiir}' for the household economy. 
 
 " What a home she made it for these servant girls ! 
 In r863, during the distress in the cotton trade, one 
 of the Lancashire ' hands ' came into service in the 
 nursery. She found a mother in Miss King, and 
 long after her companions had returned to the mills 
 she remained in the service of the family. 
 
 "From 1868 till the year of her death Miss King 
 left Kosneath, and moved with the household both to 
 Inveraray and London. * Wlicre thou dwellest, I 
 will dwell,' was her creed, and if she often longed 
 for the peaceful setting of her early Ufe, within the 
 circle of the hills, she did her work, and was the 
 same clever administrator in the stir of a London 
 house as she had been in the large empty castle by 
 the Gareloch. In London she attended the only church 
 she could attend at that date, the English Presby- 
 terian, and sat under a nephew of Edward Irving's, 
 the Rev. Gavin Carlyle. The Scottish maids under 
 her, and many another she knew of gathered round 
 her in the church, where thev met in a common 
 worship. 
 
 ' It would be untrue to say ' Kingie ' had no faults. 
 It may be guessed from the foregomg that there was
 
 20 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 
 
 a certain hardness in her nature, and its iron rigidity 
 was not softened by her creed. Her early youth had 
 been passed amid the now dead controversies associ- 
 ated with the names of Edward Irving, Campbell of 
 Row, and Story of Rosneath she had been taught to 
 dread. The sough of ' unsound doctrine ' which 
 had ebbed and flowed round the waters of the Gare- 
 locli, a fear that the terrors of the hiw had not 
 been sufliciently preached or held, spread a chilling 
 bane on that unique spirit. 
 
 *' It had all passed away ere the end ! The lessons 
 of the gospel of love were learnt by her at a later date, 
 when in sullering weakness she heard the message 
 once rejected as unsound from the pastor of 
 another nation. When the message of love and for- 
 giveness to all men in our Saviour Jesus Christ came 
 at length to her, it was received with all the fervour 
 of her strong nature, and came as ' good cheer.' 
 She learnt if the theology was of a gentler mould, 
 it was none the less faithful bea\use it recognised 
 * Justice and Mercy ' had met in Him who died 
 for all. One of her last sentences was gratitude to 
 the dear Duke for sending her a httle book which bore 
 on this subject. * That he should have sent it,' she 
 exclaimed, alluding to his well-known reserve." 
 
 These notes have been given in their entirety, 
 because the life of this remarkable woman had a 
 profound effect on Lady Victoria's own career. 
 
 When the Duchess's health grew infirm. Queen 
 \ ictoria used to come and see her at Arg}'ll Lodge. 
 The visit was usually in the afternoon, and Miss
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 27 
 
 King's scones were a part of the tea the Queen 
 would not have missed. No one loved old servants 
 better than the Queen, especially if they were Scottish, 
 and Her ^lajesty always asked to see INIiss King. 
 On one occasion the Queen desired her to come to 
 Buckingham Palace, to initiate the stillroom there 
 in all the mysteries whicli go to make the true scone. 
 
 On the appointed day Miss King appeared ready 
 to set forth, armed with her girdle, her roller and her 
 bunth of feathers. The Enghsh butler, himself a 
 servant of over twenty years, though that to Miss 
 King seemed but as one day, remonstrated, and told 
 her that the Palace stillroom would probably possess 
 these important implements. " And what kind of a 
 girdle may I find there ? " repUed the veteran 
 scone-maker, refusing to be parted from the materials 
 whicli would enable her to carry out the royal 
 command. 
 
 Miss King had to suffer much before the end. She 
 was stricken with malignant disease, and after luitold 
 sulYering, concealed as long as possible, and heroically 
 borne, those who were watching around her knew 
 that release was near at hand. She expressed a 
 strong wish to die at Rosneath, if possible ; if not, 
 that it might be on Scottish soil. Sir Prescott 
 Hewitt, who was attending her, said that removal 
 was unpossible. 
 
 The Duke was careful to satisfy her slightest 
 wish, and to one of his daughters he said, " She 
 shall have her choice, if you tell her the truth.'* 
 The task was made easy. " I know, dearie, but I
 
 28 THE HOUSEHOLD FRH^NDS 
 
 cannot die out of Scotland." " Only as far as the 
 train can take you," the ])uke said, and accompanied 
 by the doctor living then with the family, and all 
 that could ease the terrible journey, she was carried 
 out of Argyll lx)dgc. Her last look and her last word 
 were for her master, as he stood to sec the servant 
 and friend of his lifetime carried from his door. 
 
 I^idy Emma McNeill, the Duke's sister, had 
 found a suitable house in Edinburt^h for her last days. 
 It stood in Canaan Lane, looking; out on the Braid 
 hills, and there on July 0th, 1875, tended by I^dy 
 Emma and those she loved, the faithful servant 
 passed to her rest. 
 
 The children of the Argyll family felt themselves 
 bereft not only of one whose door stcKxl ever open, 
 but also of one on whose sympathy they could 
 reckon. They knew well the old home could never 
 be the same again. The cloud which the first great 
 bereavement brings had settled down, only to be 
 pierced by the light which broke on her dying face 
 when the remembrance of her beloved Duke and 
 Duchess and of her bairns was told to her. To one 
 of these bairns, privileged to be with her to the 
 last, the smile which lit up the stern features, as she 
 said her Siiviour was with her, bore a message of 
 assurance which no book of Christian evidences 
 could ever give, and no subsequent mist of doubt ever 
 efface. Her body rests in the Grange cemeter}', " till 
 the day breaks and the shadows flee away." 
 
 In a letter dated two days before Miss King's 
 death, the Duchess writes to L;idy Victoria : " All
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 29 
 
 this expectation of the end is very sad for you, l)iit 
 I am sure you will be j^'lad to have made the most 
 of these hist hours of her Hfe, and been a comfort to her. 
 The return to Inveraray and she away is very sad, 
 and she would be surprised, poor dear woman, if she 
 knew how much slie is missed, after tliinking latterly 
 she did so little. You may tell her that, whether ill 
 or well, I feel it a blessing to have her in our house, 
 and am thankful for it." 
 
 " Thankful for it " is the true note, for in the com- 
 panionship with this friend of her early childhood, 
 I^dy Victoria first K'arnt the ministry of s>nnpathy, 
 and first encountered in another some of the doubts 
 and perplexities which were encompassing herself. 
 
 Many and deep were the waters through which both 
 of them had to pass before their warfare was accom- 
 plished, and the heart of the elder woman was opened 
 to one who had early learnt the mystery brooding 
 over life and death. 
 
 The ditliculties and darkness of spirit which had 
 to be encountered produced on Lady Victoria's own 
 life a profound impression which was never effaced. 
 She sought counsel with one who could meet the 
 ditliculties of the Calviniist doctrines, and she found 
 in the ministry of Dr. Adolph Saphir, personal 
 and public, a help which came not alone into the 
 life of her friend, but was a light on her own path. 
 Much of the inspiration of her future work was 
 learnt in a double companionship at the suffering 
 bedside of her father's old servant. The date of her 
 death was one she always kept in special re-
 
 30 THE HOUSEHOLD FRIENDS 
 
 iiiombrancc, and whoii tliirty-six years later she 
 herself entered into all light, the call came to her 
 the day following that anniversary, and in the 
 same " Holy City," as it was her wont to call 
 Edinburgh.
 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 "Aud unto God the Lord from death the 
 issues do belong." 
 
 Cannes, Dec. Sth, 1882. 
 
 Was much refreshed on the way by a fortnight 
 in Edinburgh, where we saw much and closely of 
 people, and once more one had the feeUng of that 
 place being very near to God. Much, of course, 
 lies in association with me, Inil on the eve of 
 many changes in our family hfe the answer, " Thy 
 vows arc upon me, O CJod," seemed to go up. So 
 may it be. 
 
 Od. 21th, 1884. 
 
 Thy vows are upon me, God. This is the day 
 when of all others this remembrance of vows is 
 incumbent upon me. The day I was brought to 
 Edinburgh, as was then thought, a dying child. 
 
 Oct. 21th, 2Sth, 1888. 
 
 The anniversary of the day I was brought, as 
 many thought, to die. Twenty years since, in fear 
 and perplexity, I vowed my life to God. It surely 
 is no accident that I felt last night and to-day as 
 
 31
 
 32 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 if the (lifTiculty was to believe in the forgiveness of 
 sins. What a wilderness wandering 1 have to look 
 back upon ! What rebellings, what murmurs, 
 what hard thoughts of God ! llow is it that I have 
 felt the sin of all this so httle ? 
 
 As the anniversaries came round, in words such as 
 these I^ady Victoria commemorates the severe 
 illness which brought her to the very gates of death. 
 It was a time when, in a manner which seemed to 
 the watchers almost miraculous, she returned to life, 
 and, knowing as she did the seriousness of her illness, 
 she felt that life was given back to her for some 
 special purpose. With the slow return of bodily 
 strength, she passed through a mental and spiritual 
 experience which changed her outlook as completely 
 as her illness and recovery altered the nuiterial 
 conditions of her days. New influences came to her : 
 much seed was sown in a soil which was ready to 
 return a hundredfold, and from that great and solenm 
 time she dated a new Ufe and a dedication of herself, 
 ** body, soul, and spirit," in a new and consecrated 
 way. 
 
 I^idy Victoria spent the autumn of 18C8 with the 
 family at Inveraray. There was an intennission in 
 the treatment which necessitated her residence in 
 the south, and she was again united with the school- 
 room party in all the so-called work, and thoroughly 
 enjoyed outdoor Ufe. 
 
 ►She had learnt to move about on her sticks with 
 great rapidity, and her room was always the centre
 
 
 
 ■-» -N 

 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 33 
 
 of tlie fun and mischief that was gomg on in the 
 family circle. Ilcr sense of the hidicrous was always 
 keen, the best tonic for all her hfe, and it was at 
 its height in those days, and she led many a wild 
 " causerie " with her heart-whole laughter. The 
 schoolroom, after being })resided over by a series 
 of foreipni potentates, was at this time ruled, or not 
 ruled, by a lady as remarkable for her learning as 
 she was for personal appearance and precise methods 
 of spctch. 
 
 Miss Georgina Johnstone was one of a family of 
 five sisters, who were at that time Hving in Brighton. 
 
 She was a great friend of Sir Charles and Luly Lyi-ll, 
 and the hitter informed the Duke of Argyll that Mi.ss 
 Johnstone was desirous of obtaining the post of 
 governess. The family possessed inde])endent means, 
 and there had been no intention of any of the members 
 taking to professional work. The desire, however, 
 to assist in the education of some nephews made 
 the two youngest of the Misses Johnstone seek for 
 suitable em])lovment, and hi 18G4 Miss Georgina 
 became the friend of the wide familv circle, and the 
 instructor of the unstudious team she had to manage 
 in the schoolroom. 
 
 Miss Johnstone's impression of the first sight of 
 her pupils was often recorded in their hearing, but 
 mifortunately was never placed upon paper. Some 
 of the family were at Brighton visiting their sister, 
 having swimming lessons, and enjoying donkey rides 
 on the downs. 
 
 '' Georgina " entered into the sitting-room of the 
 
 D
 
 34 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 lodfjing house to find a number of girls with a bcwil- 
 dcringly close personal resemblance, and with a rap- 
 idity of speech and action which rather daunted the 
 staid, dehberatc little lady, who fountl herself looking 
 somewhat timidly at those who were to come under 
 her not very dominant personahty. Especially was 
 she impressed with the speed with which all 
 \\Titing was accomplished, and she took what she 
 afterwards found was a very superficial view of the 
 abilities of her future pupils. 
 
 For thirteen years she lived in the various " Studie,s " 
 and remained to the last somewhat of a puzzle, 
 but always appreciated by every member of the 
 schoolroom. She spoke English in the most approved 
 Jolinson-ese, and was deeply learned, and (entirely 
 self-taught. She possessed the most insatiable 
 craving for knowledge, and when she had exhausted 
 every continental language she began both OaeUc 
 and Sanscrit in the last years of her residence. She 
 learnt astronomv from the minister at Inverarav, 
 and her ardent pursuit of fungi during the " consti- 
 tutionals " was one of the joys of the schoolroom 
 walk. To be late in the return to lessons, and to 
 bring back as a peace-ofTering something that might 
 for a moment be considered a new species of fungus, 
 was a great inducement to keep the scientific eye 
 awake. 
 
 Miss Johnstone's father had been an officer in the 
 army under William IV, and he had then retired 
 to a small StafTordshire property to get rid of his 
 patrimony in amateur farming.
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 35 
 
 The family were intensely English, and had been 
 reared in i>iovinci.d life. No opportunities were 
 olTered to the young women to cultivate the very 
 remarkable brains possessed in a large measure by 
 all of them, and Miss Ceorgina's attainments were all 
 the more notable for the manner in whith they 
 had been acquired. Late in hfe, she was to be found 
 in the small hours of the morning kneeling at the 
 table of the schoolroom, in order that she might keep 
 hci*seU awake in the pursuit of knowledge. 
 
 It all seemed a little abnormal to her very un- 
 studious pupils, especially as with the gift of instruct- 
 ing herself there came no aptitude at imparting 
 knowledge. The teacher in the parish school could 
 have instructed in a more eflective way, but he could 
 not have given the cultured atmosphere which 
 hung around this learned lady. The lessons she set 
 were rarely learnt, for her pu})ils had not the retentive 
 memory of their governess. Brought up a high Tory, 
 and a strict member of the Church of England, 
 before it had been transfused by the Oxford move- 
 ment, she never used a Prayer Book, and could repeat 
 the whole service, including the singing of the Psalms, 
 from memory. 
 
 Looking back, it is possible to beheve that the mind 
 of the scholar had strayed into the doubts and diffi- 
 culties of the critical spirit of the age. If so, she 
 honourably kept the understanding that religious 
 matters were outside the sphere of her labours, and, 
 Church of England as she w^as from the crown of her 
 head to the soles of her feet, she always attended the
 
 36 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 parish cliurcli when in Scotland, occasionally going 
 off alono to the service held in the Scottish Episcopal 
 Church. 
 
 Her pupils owed much to the rare intenii]jence and 
 interest which she hrouj^ht to bear on all passing 
 events. The reading aloud to her of Macaulay's 
 " History of England " would usually result in a long 
 discussion on the matter treated of by the historian, 
 and the talk woidd be drawn to the pohtics of the day. 
 Her loyalty and her puhtical convictions must have 
 been severely strained at the time of the disestablish- 
 ment of the Irish Church. Pohtically, she abhorred 
 Mr. Gladstone and his works ; but personally she was 
 amusingly under the sway of his courteous manners 
 and his gratitude when, as occasionally happened, 
 he dined at Argyll I^^dge, and she was ready with some 
 needed bit of information in the after-dinner dis- 
 cussions. 
 
 " My dears, our lesson has been sadly neglected ; 
 we must hope, though, that our conversation has 
 not been altogether unprofitable," had very often 
 to be said at the close of the lesson hours, when the 
 scholars had discussed a debate in the House of 
 Lords, or the oncoming of the Franco-German War 
 instead of doing Colenso's Arithmetic, or practising 
 scales on the monumental piano. 
 
 The schoolrooms rise to niemor}' ! The London one, 
 under the roof, and baked in the summer heats, 
 till an adjournment to the garden was rendered almost 
 imperative. " A sadly distracted and inattentive 
 day," was too often the evening report on such
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 37 
 
 occasions. The tables, with their various occupants, 
 characteristically idle or conscientiously working, and 
 one figure on the sofa, who was never known to shirk 
 the daily round. The coveted seat in the window, 
 wlu're the lawn with its hosts and guests were under 
 inspection, or at Inveraray, where from the study 
 window the eye fell on a vision of many waters, 
 encircled by hills whose outlines are more indelibly 
 imprinted on the tablets of memory than the lessons 
 which' were, or were not, connnittcd to its care. 
 
 The short lesson hours over, there came the school- 
 room tea, often added to by an incursion of the 
 brothers and guests, attracted by the bursts of 
 conversation and the laughter of the very lively 
 party. The Ught of " long ago " streams in at the 
 window of that room and falls on the sunny heads ; 
 the table set with scones and gooseberries, and very 
 literally presiding at its head the small, i>rim figure 
 of the well-known Miss Johnstone. Her pupils, 
 struck with the intensely English ideas of their 
 governess, early christened her ** Pock Pudding." 
 In spite of the gravest ellorts of the seniors, the name 
 rapidly became fixed to the first part of the title, 
 and soon every member of the family, and those 
 '* without," were famihar with and used this un- 
 melodious nickname. The Duke found in her a 
 valuable helper in correcting for the press the proof 
 sheets of *' The Reign of Law." Many an enhghtening 
 argument as to style and punctuation, and the exact 
 definition of a scientific fact, was carried on over the 
 luncheon table, to the amusement of ]\Ir. Strahan,
 
 38 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 the publisher, who was often present, and to the 
 edification of all who heard the choice language of 
 the critic and corrector. 
 
 Naturally, she felt that her pupils were lost in the 
 swamps of unfathomable ignorance! She herself 
 wrote a beautiful, "correct" handwriting. Two of 
 her pupils at least wrote in a hand which she charac- 
 terised *' as not becoming in a grocer's boy." Long 
 years after, one of the said pu])iLs heard her taking 
 modest credit for the excellence of the s;une writing 
 which had met with hor just criticism. That pupil 
 she had destiiUMl for a farmer's wife. " F. can never 
 be kept out of the company of the .stables and byre." 
 When another fate overtook the most unlearned and 
 troublesome of her .schohirs, and she was the welcome 
 guest in a home not altogctlur uncultured, again she 
 ventured to remind tho.se she found there " that 
 dear F. had been a pupil of her own." 
 
 llrrs was the .student life, and that her lore was kept 
 from the drya.^dust type was largely due to the 
 world of youth under her gentle sway, and held to her 
 by a very human sympathy. '* She had been young," 
 antl her youth was marred by di.siippointments in 
 health and hopes. Best of all, she had a saving and 
 rich sense of humour, and a temperament naturally 
 inchncd to the morbid was redeemed by a keen 
 appreciati(Ui of the fun which was to be found in 
 conditions most unpromising for that element. She 
 and her pupils relieved many a trying situation by 
 convulsions of ill-concealed mirth. 
 
 Lady Victoria had few opportunities of direct
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 39 
 
 teaching from Miss Johnstone. When at last, after 
 her serious ilhiess, she remamcd at home her school- 
 room days were drawmg to a close. A warm friend- 
 ship existed, however, between the two, who were not 
 by nature intended to understand each other. In 
 Miss Georgina's sisters, and notably in Miss Susan, 
 who temporarily replaced her for one winter at 
 Inveraray, she was to find much comfort and com- 
 panionship. 
 
 IiL n)()4, sixteen years after leaving the family, 
 Miss Jolmstone writes to her: "The approaching 
 2'2nd shall not come and go without bringing you a 
 few loving lines from me. If there is one memory 
 stronger than another concerning my first weeks at 
 Argyll Lodge, it is the mental impression of you 
 seated on the floor to * put the ladybirds to bed,' on 
 that May 22nd, 18(35. Through all the years that have 
 passed since then you have been safely led by the 
 Faithful Promiser. The I'illar of Cloud has sheltered 
 you under the heat of work and conflict, the Pillar 
 of Fire has led you in the dark night of sorrow and 
 travail, and sometimes you have been permitted to 
 rest by the waters of palmy EUm. Throughout all 
 these years you have been sustained by the Ever- 
 lasting Arms. May His Presence ever go up with 
 you, and give you rest through this wilderness world, 
 and hereafter everlasting joy iu the heavenly 
 kinmlom." 
 
 Earlier in her hfe, the elder sister in the home at 
 Briiihton writes : "I cannot tell vou how often I 
 think of you and the work in life which (as it seems
 
 40 FKOM DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 to mc) your Heavenly Father has laid out for you. 
 Very quiet, unobtrusive work, but very high and holy ; 
 — the gentle, loving influence which shall comfort 
 and help all around you, and in doing which your own 
 Boul will be brought into nearer communion with 
 your loving Saviour. He will help and comfort you 
 while He makes you a comfort to others." 
 
 The last of this band of sisters, with their gentle 
 piety, their quiet home, their interest in the two 
 adventurous members of their family, " Pock and 
 Susie," had all passed away before Lady Victoria's 
 death. In the brilliant pages of Miss Thorneycroft 
 Fowler's " Isabel Carnaby " a portrait of Miss 
 Georgina's personaUty and manner of speech nmy be 
 traced. 
 
 It would be hard to reconstruct the early Victorian 
 characters, the refmement, the talents, and, in the 
 one instance, the rare gifts of mind, whiili were 
 found among them. Tlu-ir interests were clo.sely woven 
 in with the family which brought so much colour 
 and life into their own quietly ordered lives, and their 
 influence and home were among the things which 
 contributed to Lady Victoria's happiness when a child 
 at Brighton. 
 
 It was in the midst of this happy home life at 
 Inveraray that Lady Victoria contracted the severe 
 illness which so nearly cost her her life. Hitherto, 
 she had been pecuharly healthy, considering the 
 restraints of her disablement, and nothing more 
 serious than the usual maladies of childhood had 
 troubled her. Diuing the autumn of 1868 she
 
 FEOM DEATH UNTO LIFE 41 
 
 showed signs of grave illness, and no treatment 
 arrested the mischief, the cause of which was not 
 properly diagnosed. 
 
 It would serve no purpose to revive the memories, 
 or recall the sufferings through which she passed. 
 The malady grew daily worse, the symptoms more 
 distressing, and the medical skill was at fault to reUeve 
 or to cure. It is sullicient to say that the symptoms 
 were treated as, and beheved to ])e, of au acute 
 gastric nature, while the real qhusc of the disease was 
 a severe abscess in the lung. 
 
 The Duchess was at the time nuich engrossed by 
 the last illness of her mother, Harriet, Duchess of 
 Sutherland, and she did not take the alarm which 
 was felt from the first by Lady Enuna Camj)b«'ll, 
 who was that autunm, according to her usual custom, 
 staying at the Castle. 
 
 Liidy Emma Campbell, the younger and only 
 surviving sister of the Duke of Argyll, had always 
 been closely associated with the family life, and she 
 loved her nephews and nieces with the most complete 
 devotion. After the death of her father, she made her 
 home ill Edinburgh, and it was soon the centre of 
 much work and many interests. 
 
 In appearance Lady Emma was not like her 
 brother. She had brown hair, and her face, with 
 its beaming smile and large blue eyes, closely re- 
 sembled her mother, Joan Glassell. Lady Emma 
 never had very strong health, and her energies 
 were, at an early age Hinited by a strength which 
 never bore being overtasked.
 
 42 FROM DEATir UNTO LIFE 
 
 Tn tlie Disruption of 1843 she was one of those who 
 ** came out," and she upheld the cause of the Free 
 Church of Scothmd with singular fervour and zeal. 
 
 It was a great disappointment to her that the Duke, 
 having sympathised and understood the case for the 
 Free Church, had withdrawn himself from the party 
 when he saw that schism was inevitable. He has 
 left it on record that the controversy made him 
 retire for the rest of his Ufe from Church Courts and 
 their pohtics, as far as was possible. This was not 
 the case with Lady Emma. She threw in her lot 
 with the Disruption leaders, atid urged them forward 
 with all the ardour of her brave and truth-loving 
 spirit. The bitterness which was unfortunately the 
 distinguishing mark of that unha])py controversy 
 was not absent from the attitude Ladv Emma took 
 towards the National Church, and those who re- 
 mained within its walls. She was essentially a 
 fighter for the truth as she saw it, and her zeal swept 
 her vehement spirit into many Siiyings and actions 
 which seemed at the time extreme, and are, like so 
 many other extinct volcanoes, difficult to reconstruct 
 amid the cold ashes of a day that is dead. 
 
 It says nmch for the warm and generous love which 
 was the keynote of her character, that these ecclesi- 
 astical controversies never separated her from her 
 brother and his wife. If they could not sec eye to eye 
 they agreed to difler, and the Duchess had a wide 
 tolerance and a deep, trustful love for Lady Emma. 
 
 Half the year was spent by her with the family at 
 Eosuoath or Inveraray. Special rooms were always
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 43 
 
 ready for her, and a morning visit to this beloved 
 aunt is among the memories of the golden age. The 
 early sunshine lighting up the turret where she sat. 
 The eager, bright smile at the approach of the 
 children, " Goldie Locks " and " Wee Wifey " their 
 titles. The little ones played with her china parrots, 
 and a wondrous crystal scent-bottle with four 
 stoppers. On Sunday the picture Bible, and the 
 teaching of the Scottish paraphrases. To the elder 
 ones she was confidante and companion, and her home 
 in Edinburgh was the lodging-place of the brothers, 
 pursuing their studies at school and university. 
 
 There is no doubt that the Free Church carried 
 with it and created in its midst a spirit of Evangelical 
 fervour, lacking in the Church of Scotland at the 
 time. Lady Emma sought the ministry of Dr. 
 Candlish and Dr. Guthrie and other ** hghts," and 
 in their teaching found rest and the Hfe of service 
 to which she devoted her time. In a letter written 
 near the end of her life to Lady \'ictoria, she reviews 
 the past in these words : — 
 
 Juhj llth, 1870. 
 
 You dear small woman thinking of me. Yes, 
 I have had heavy hours there, but also much com- 
 fort, specially one season, when about twenty, 
 and many weeks in those two rooms. I dreaded 
 almost to leave them. But the place is terribly 
 dead — and forgive me for saying, specially the 
 Established Church — for what was most Living 
 had to leave it, and the worst of the division to me
 
 44 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 was the feeling that those who remained were 
 shunted out of the current of Evangehcal life and 
 interest. 
 
 Oh ! if 1 could tell you how intensely I echoed 
 ?n my heart Prepense 's strong expression yesterday : 
 " II faut que les Eglises d'Etat perisseut afin que 
 I'Evangile trioniphe." Mark you — as Eglises d'Etat. 
 That is simply that they be set free from bands and 
 ties that hinder and hamper and divide from 
 brethren. 
 
 But patience — each where we are have to seek a 
 present God, and seek to be a means of blessing. 
 I have looked out of that turret window and 
 longed to see a field-preaching in the field beyond 
 the river. Su])pose we pray for that ? Why not 
 agree to do it, if it be His will, or He may send 
 the blessing another way. 
 
 To you I Si\y — Be strong and of a good courage, 
 and beheve in God. Believe in His Son. Believe 
 in the Holy Ghost, not only as a creed, but in 
 hfe. He knows all — can do all. Look at the three- 
 fold l)lossing (Num. vi. 21). 
 
 I have been revelhng in Dr. Buchanan's " Life." 
 It stirs me as a trumpet might an old horse. 
 There is pain too, not small, mixed up with it, 
 but I am thankful to have hved through these 
 days. 
 
 I wish people would ponder the fact that the 
 conditions of membership in Church and citizenship 
 in State was essentially difierent. I am involun- 
 tarily a subject and citizen.
 
 FKOM DEATH UNTO LIFE 45 
 
 In the Church I must enrol myself voluntarily, 
 and enter on a quite new circle of duties, and 
 privileges with which no man can meddle, unless 
 in the prosecution of them I hurt or injure my 
 neighbour. If the Church as a body, that is, the 
 believing Christians associated together, are to be 
 Christ's witnesses and servants, they nuist take 
 heed to be free and disentangled, and out of free 
 and wilhng gifts Christ's service should be upheld. 
 " The Lord loveth a cheerful giver." 
 
 In these words the vehement spirit looks back with 
 the calmer insight that the years had brought her. 
 
 It is possible to wonder whether the Disruption 
 would ever have taken place had the Church of 
 Scotland been at the time a living and progressive 
 force. A decade before it had ** slain the prophets," 
 in the persecution of Edward Irving and Camp- 
 bell of Row. Had its own hfe died out in the cll'ort 
 to silence Truth, and had its members to suffer from 
 all the sin of schism in order to find Evangehstic 
 fervour ? 
 
 There were more forces of upheaval at work than 
 those which met the eye, and the blind folly of the 
 Government was but the instrument in letting loose a 
 spirit which was to quicken and leaven both Churches. 
 
 The Pope and the ministers of the Established 
 Church were alike anathema to Lady Emma, and it 
 was amusing to watch the conflict between the 
 miquenchable and fiery zeal of the sectarian and that 
 same ardent spirit in its works of warm-hearted love
 
 46 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 and sympathy towards all the brethren of mankind. 
 The poor were with her always, and her presence in 
 their homes was a ray of pure simlii;ht. After I*idy 
 iMnma's marriage to Sir John MeNeill, she had a 
 l^roperty at Liberton and a villa at Cannes. There are 
 still many who recall the picture of her in her garden 
 cutting the flowers with unsparing hand, and sending 
 her guests of every degree away laden with blossoms 
 and fruit. " Take these, and come back for more ; 
 they are the better for being cut.'' The voice so 
 cheery in its sincerity and transparent truthfulness, 
 and her words musical with the purest and pleasiuitcst 
 of Scottish accents. 
 
 The words s])oken by Mr. Dodds after the death of 
 Lady Emma in 1893 complete the picture of this 
 woman so greatly beloved by a large circle of friends 
 and kindred : — 
 
 "The Free Church has not been distinguished by 
 being able to point to many names of the Scottish 
 nobihty upon her roll, but those of them whose 
 names have been written there have been very 
 noble. Their fame has been in all the Churches, for 
 amongst them have been many whose lofty record 
 of character and sacrifice makes them the truest 
 types of Christian heroism. 
 
 " One of these — the last that death has removed — 
 Lady Emma McNeill, widow of Sir John McNeill 
 and sister of the Duke of Argyll, Ls eminently worthy 
 of the place she occupies in the list of Disruption 
 worthies commemorated in D. O. Hill's well-known
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 47 
 
 picture. From its clay of small things to the present 
 year of its jiihilee, she was ever one of the faithfullest 
 members of the Churth, and herself one of the best 
 types of religious character which it has produced. 
 Few loved and trusted thi^ Church as she did. She 
 had seen enough of its history to beheve that as it 
 began under the influence of the highest ideal of 
 loyalty to Christ, so along the lines of its present 
 development will be found the solution of many a 
 question, social and ecclesiastical. She had gladly 
 borne her part in its earthly struggle, and ever since 
 considered it a })rivilege rather than an obligation to 
 share in its enterprise. In a life that had inherited 
 so much from the past, and that was in contact with 
 all that was best in the Scottish Church, it would be 
 diflieult to find any one chief moulding influence ; 
 but it is interestuig to remember how it was her 
 delight to talk of Dr. Candlish and the early days of 
 St. George's, evidently under the feeling that she 
 owed much to that distinguished man. 
 
 " In the days of her youth and strength — like many 
 of the noblest of that time — she was full of that 
 enthusiasm for the churchless crowds which Dr. 
 Chahners inaugurated, and was a prominent figure 
 in the beginning of that now signally successful 
 territorial experiment the Pleasance Free Church. 
 The graceful tribute paid to her memory from that 
 pulpit by the devoted pastor the day after her funeral 
 showed how the early devotion of such a lady to 
 Christ's cause amongst the poor still lingers as an 
 inspiring memory. In the later years of her life,
 
 48 FROM DEATH I^^TO LIFE 
 
 when weak hcaltli made a personal share in such 
 activities impossible, her means and influence were 
 most generously at the disposal of every good cause 
 which came under her notice. 
 
 " Possessed of great gifts of mind and heart, like so 
 many of the members of the ancient and noble house 
 to which she belonged, she kept close watch on the 
 theological movements within the Church, reading 
 the literature of modern questions in various Euro- 
 pean lang\iages ; and while conser\'ative in her own 
 theological views, she had the fullest s}nnpathy with 
 every earnest attempt of accredited scholars to set 
 the old faith in a better light. In matters of worship, 
 too, whilst having her own preference for what 
 was simple — for her whole manner of life was simple 
 — yet her natural generosity of disposition made her 
 ever ready to adjust herself, in matters non-essential, 
 to the prevalent need ; and she was ever ready to 
 adopt, even to her own discomfort, an^'thing which 
 could be shown to be likely to make the Church a 
 more elTective weapon to influence the greatest 
 number to a new or fuller interest in Christ. si sic 
 omncs ! 
 
 ** But of all that she was the Church at large, and 
 the congregations at Cannes and at Libert on in par- 
 ticular, were deprived with startling suddenness. 
 Those present at the close of our Jubilee Assembly 
 will remember the fitting reference in the Modera- 
 tor's prayer at the opening of the evening sederunt 
 to the loss which the morning of a day bright with 
 much promise had brought to the Church. It was
 
 
 Photo] 
 
 \Ftrret, Nice, 
 
 LADY K.MMA McNKILL.
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 49 
 
 the more sad when one remembers that durmg the 
 weeks immediately preceding, her health had been 
 much better than usual, and that she w^as looking 
 forward eagerly to her home-coming and residence 
 in a newly purchased villa at Liberton, which during 
 the winter, when she had been at Cannes, had under- 
 gone enlargement and alteration. 
 
 " Her death has removed a name and an influence 
 from amongst us which in many ways was a very 
 gi-eat gift to our Chmxh ; and while it creates a loss 
 that is felt widely, to the congregations w^ith which 
 she was connected it is more than loss. Those who 
 knew her feel to-day that it will not be easy to know 
 again any one of such rank and such gifts, and at 
 the same time with such humility and simphcity of 
 character, as were the marks of that noble lady 
 whose place is now em])ty, and who while with us 
 in the days and years that were, made faith easier 
 by her life, and work more joyous by her sympathy." 
 
 Ladv Emma had suffered too much from aibng 
 health not to be verv conscious of all its sicaials in 
 others. What was wrong with Lady Victoria she 
 did not know, but she was certam that the illness 
 was of the gravest character, and neither she nor the 
 devoted maid who was m charge were satisfied with 
 the treatment, or the persistent optimism which 
 maintained notliimj; serious was amiss. 
 
 The sketch which has been given of Lady Emma 
 will have been very incomplete, unless it has shewn 
 how fully one she was with all the family.
 
 60 FRO:\I DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 << D 
 
 Coveting one's neighbours' daiiglilers is as wrong 
 as coveting anything else," she wrote in after years 
 to Lady Victoria, when clesirous of her presence and 
 feehng there wxre other calls on her time. Her 
 nieces were to her as her very o\\ni children, and 
 she had the full confidence of their parents. 
 
 It was resolved to move the invahd to Lady 
 Emma's house in Edinburgh, and there to place her 
 under the care of Sir James Simpson. 
 
 The journey was done by posting, crossing the 
 high pass to Loch Lomond, by the road with the 
 stone bearing the inscription to " Rest and be 
 Thankful," down to Bulloch, where the train hastened 
 and eased the weary journey. 
 
 On the road they learnt the death of the Dowager 
 Duchess of Sutherland, and Lady Emma felt that 
 another and yet nearer loss was at hand for the 
 Duchess, who had kept so long a vigil by the bedside 
 of her mother. 
 
 Lady Emma's house was then in St. Cuthbert's 
 Street, since renamed Torphichan Street, and the 
 house to which Lady Victoria was taken " a suffering 
 child to die " is now a nursmg home. Very gravely 
 ill did the beloved physician find the child of his 
 friends, and he at once called in the aid of Dr. HalUday 
 Douglas. For long there seemed to be Uttle hope, 
 the mischief was so extensive, and nature seemed 
 exhausted. Probably the worst danger was over, 
 and the discharge from the abscess, which had been 
 taken for gastric trouble, had really been complete, 
 and the poison had ceased to undermme the constitu-
 
 FROIM DEATH UNTO LIFE 51 
 
 tioii. If this was so, and no operation was attempted 
 or performed, it showed a very remarkable constitu- 
 tional healthiness. 
 
 AVliat watching and ceaseless care could give was 
 hers. Dr. Ilalliday Douglas had the daily and almost 
 hourly charge of the patient, and what his deep skill 
 and knowledge could bring to the case was freely 
 given. He was not only her doctor, but her friend. 
 He early perceived the remarkable character and the 
 reserv/; of vitality in the young girl under his charge, 
 and he ministered as successfully to the mind as to 
 the body. 
 
 In October, 1889, Dr. Douglas writes to his old 
 patient : " Is it twenty-one years ago that we met ! 
 How shall I thank God that I retain your loving 
 confidence. As time runs out, I value more than ever 
 your friendly regard, and your pleasant memories 
 of the past. I trust you did receive the blessing 
 yesterday that wonderful Ordinance conveys. I 
 wish you had been with us and received the help 
 to Communion my simple ardent friend gave from 
 the transfiguration, and the mount where it occurred 
 — so simple — so true — so earnest. But if your soul 
 has been fed, that is all." 
 
 On the anniversary of her birthday, Dr. Douglas 
 writes : "It never returns without calHng forth 
 my sincere and earnest interest in your welfare and 
 happiness. I seek for you a growing aptitude in the 
 methods of the divme grace, of growing enjo}Tnent 
 of the Word, as the Revealer of God in Christ, and a 
 growing joy in serving and endurmg.''
 
 52 FI10I\I DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 In 1895 the physician had lost none of liis aflection 
 for his old patient, but he had lost his understanding 
 of the indomitable courage and vitality which made 
 Lady Victoria "a law unto herself" in matters of 
 health. Neither perhaps could any doctor resident 
 in Edinburgh understand the healing and reviving 
 power that the West has for its own children of the 
 mists and waves. 
 
 " Well ! Of your plans. I am not very happy at 
 the prospect of the winter in the Islands ; but your 
 London doctor of whom you write so pleasantly 
 should know. 
 
 " For your own dear sake, and for many friends 
 you will take care. Beware of distant journeys 
 involving late or stormy returns home, and where 
 you cannot get comjort<ihle up-putting — and you 
 know how that is (or is not) to be got in Tirec. I 
 would rather have you near us at Mentone, or see 
 you comfortably settled in your ancestral home at 
 Inveraray. Wherever you go the Master will find 
 work for you ; oh, that I had some felt fitness for 
 service, but I find there is a service that is not 
 active." 
 
 The advice and admonition must have amused 
 Lady Victoria, as her returns home were always late, 
 and nearly always stormy, and her " resting-places " 
 were often so in name, but not in fact. 
 
 That, however, is part of a history which this 
 memoir has not yet reached, and the story must go 
 back to the room " where in her breast the wave of 
 life kept ebbing to and fro."
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 53 
 
 The Duke and Duchess returned to Edinburgh, 
 and the family were at different times summoned 
 to see the last of their sister. Even on January 10th, 
 1869, Dr. John Brown, " Rab and His Friends,'' as he 
 was usually styled, wrote to his friend the Duchess : — 
 
 I hear from Lady Emma that your dear child 
 is gently fading — to bloom loveUer than ever in the 
 Paradise of God. This is sad, but it is less sad 
 than not. I hope you and the rest of yours are all 
 well. May The Almighty Father watch over you 
 and them, and keep you as He has, hitherto, so 
 divmely done, from the temptations of earthly 
 greatness, and intellectual powers and reach. 
 
 Slowly, and to the watchers, as it seemed, almost 
 miraculously, the hfe was given back, and the 
 wonderful constitution began to gain ground, and 
 recovery very slowly but surely set in. It was an 
 uphill chmb, and the exhausted nature told on the 
 buoyant spirit. The sense of her crippled condir 
 tion seemed first to have dawned on her as she 
 again faced life. 
 
 There was also the realisation of another burden, 
 not that of the flesh, " fightings and fears within, 
 without,'' and the hill Difficulty was very steep to the 
 young pilgrim. The necessary aid came to her, 
 but the battle against prmcipaHties and powers 
 lasted longer than the struggle of Nature. 
 
 " Bee. 2Srd, 1880. Twelve years ago to-day," she 
 writes in a diary, " Dr. Guthrie paid me his first
 
 54 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 sick-room visit." It was not the last, and by degrees 
 light came out of darkness. What Lady Emma was 
 to her in these days it is impossible to say. She de- 
 voted her whole time and thought to the room in her 
 house where the weary fight was bemg maintained 
 for so long without any hope of seeing a recovery, and 
 she was only desirous that the tired mind and body 
 might be led by still waters and green pastures. 
 
 When the tide of hfe returned, Lady Emma was 
 unwearied in her efforts to minister to all that could 
 amuse and revive the mental condition. There was 
 much need of encouragement, and how Lady Emma 
 understood the girl who was to be such a comfort 
 in her own futm'e hfe, the following letters will show :— 
 
 1878. 
 
 My darhng bairny, 
 
 I am sure no rough step or bit of your road has 
 been without its purpose and its blessing. When 
 I began to think you were to Uve and not die, nine 
 years ago, I was sure you had work to do, and you 
 may remember my telhng you, when you would not 
 beheve it, that a Hfe of much iise and work at home 
 might be before you. 
 
 Peculiar training and discipUne — if we are taught 
 to accept it — is ever for a piu'pose and one of 
 abundant recompense. 
 
 1874. 
 
 Darling, — The day I left you, as we drove along, 
 the two subjects that came to my mind suggested
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 55 
 
 by the place — the season and all that has been — 
 were: The grass withereth, the flower thereof fadeth, 
 and the grace and the fashion of it perisheth. — 
 But the Word of the Lord endureth for ever. 
 
 And this — " I nnist work the works of Him that 
 sent me, while it is day: the night cometh when no 
 man can work." The contrasts between the utter 
 insecurity of all here and the Word that is abidmg. 
 Yesterday, Dr. Guthrie was preaching about the 
 things that are shaken and " the things that 
 cannot be shaken."" You are just learning to 
 know by experience a Uttle of the change and the 
 pain of it which pursues one so contuuially. Do 
 learn to know and to lea7i on daily the " Word '' 
 that is abiding, and Him who is the same yesterday, 
 to-day, and for ever. You know, but follow on to 
 know. 
 
 Cannes, 1874. 
 
 We had a dehghtful Communion yesterday. 
 Mr. ]\Iinto alluded to what I think is scarcely 
 spoken of enough. The wonderful evidence afforded 
 by the institution and continued celebration of 
 the Supper of the truth of the Gospel story, for 
 no other intelligible explanation can be offered of 
 what has been done for eighteen centuries, and if it 
 be all most really true do not let us dishonour or 
 grieve the Lord by doubts ever renewed, but 
 remember His words, " Blessed are they that have 
 not seen but have beheved.'" 
 
 In connection with difficulties and difficult
 
 56 FRO:\I DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 questions, perhaps you err in going about for the 
 solving of these. Truth is central. It is in Him 
 who is the Truth, and to us, He is the faithful and 
 true Witness, and to Christians the secret of peace 
 and stabiUty is to grow in grace and in the know- 
 ledge of the Ix)rd Jesus Christ, because knowing 
 Hiin, considering Him, we learn to trust in Him 
 absolutely. He does not here explain all things to 
 us, and we consent to wait. I do not beheve there 
 is any solution of our difliculties possible till we 
 are stilled and hushed as in the presence chamber, 
 thanks ior this ; that God reigneth, and can take 
 refuge as Jesus did in this— '* Even so, Father; 
 for so it seemeth good in Thy sight." 
 
 Dec. 24th, 1877. Cannes. 
 
 Dearest V. It is a hundred years to-day since 
 my father was born. The thought came to me this 
 morning with such a feeUng how short it all is, 
 and then look forward to another hundred years 
 and how short the time here will have been, and yet 
 how momentous. Depend upon it, ** the golden 
 haze " gathers in looking back, and then the haze 
 was golden in looking on. Now our hope should be 
 brighter, not being an instinct, but a hope God- 
 given and resting on Him, who is not only true, 
 but the Truth. 
 
 I wish you would send me Mr. Saphir's tract. 
 It was just the thing to write when he felt low — 
 and so it will be not the outflowing of a mere mood, 
 but a strong word for those who may be cast down.
 
 FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE 57 
 
 As Dr. Dykes once said about David's word, 
 " I will trust and not be afraid." Evidently he 
 was afraid, and was setting his face, as he elsewhere 
 says, "encouraging himself in the Lord His God"; 
 and all lower props and comforts fail. The one is 
 enough, never failing, ever sure. 
 
 Cannes, 1880. 
 
 Light has been on the hills of Grasse most of the 
 day. Ever)i:hmg is beginnmg to grow. The heavy 
 rain and the warmer air have set the Ufe stirring in 
 all the plants, and it is a comfort to see the leaves 
 look clean and fresh : they had been so dusty and 
 so parched. 
 
 Some anemones are coming up just below our 
 window, and one of them the genuine red ; and the 
 yellow crocuses are also opening their eyes. 
 
 Oh, dear V., He who reneweth the face of the 
 earth each year hath much better in store for 
 us, and not withered leaves of the dead past, but 
 flowers and fruit, of the life to be, are our portion. 
 It is written, we are saved by Hope, and in that 
 Hope let us live, so this Ufe, though brief, shall not 
 be vain — only the sorrow of it need not crush us. 
 
 Spring had nearly passed into summer before the 
 convalescence was assured. The Easter message of 
 Risen Life came with new meaning to those who saw 
 that health was restored, and the mind and spirit 
 were ready to acknowledge the supreme call for a hfe 
 of dedication.
 
 58 FROI\I DEATH UNTO LIFE 
 
 As this chapter began with Lady Victoria's own 
 words, so must it close with words commemorative 
 of this season of clear shming after rain. 
 
 1878. 
 
 " I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies 
 of Odd, that ye present your bodies a living siicri- 
 fice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your 
 reasonable service." 
 
 Just ten years since in fear, in weakness and 
 darkness, I vowed this, then heard it claimed in 
 chimes of Love and Peace as being indeed " reason- 
 al)le service," and then the mercies! How innu- 
 merable they are, even now the " knowing here- 
 after " has been in a measure granted, and yet I 
 know again and again my restless spirit asks 
 why ?
 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 HOME Foil GOOD 
 
 • " Oh yt't we trust that soinehow good 
 
 Will he the final goal of ill, 
 To i)aiigs of nature, h^ins of will, 
 Defects of doubt, and taints of blood." 
 
 The summer of 1869 was fully past before Lady- 
 Victoria was fit to move. It was not thought expe- 
 dient that she should return to the activities of the 
 family life at Inveraray. A longer period of quiet, 
 and a chmate less damp than that of the west coast, 
 was prescribed for her further recovery. 
 
 Lady Emma took a house at Cried", and there a 
 happy autunm was passed in long drives and walks 
 with a pony-chair. Her sister, Lady Evelyn, spent 
 the time with her, and the return of strength was 
 steadily satisfactory. 
 
 With the approach of winter it was necessary to 
 consider where that season should be spent. 
 
 Sunshine and warmth were deemed essential for 
 the still deHcate lung, and it was decided that Lady 
 Emma should take a villa at Cannes, and that she 
 and Lady Victoria should go there, and that later 
 on two of the sisterhood should join them on the 
 Riviera. 
 
 59
 
 60 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 It was a wise decision. The change was the more 
 complete to Lady Victoria, that she had never been 
 abroad, and her love of scenery, and the revelation 
 of what sunli<,dit and flowers were in the land of 
 '* Fair France," all aided and stimulated her complete 
 restoration to health. 
 
 For another reason, it was well that she was removed 
 from Scotland, for a heavy shadow was hanging over 
 the familv at home. 
 
 The Duchess had been staying at Ahiwick, and re- 
 turned alone to Inveraray in the month of December. 
 A letter frost, accompanied by the usual fog in the 
 Clyde, disorganised the steamboat service, and the 
 Duchess landed late at Lochgoilhead. The carriage 
 sent for her returned, beheving that she had not been 
 able to come, and the Duchess crossed the Pass to 
 Loch Fyne in an open carriage. The night was 
 intensely cold, and she arrived at the Castle after a 
 most trying journey. 
 
 The Duke was detained in London by public 
 business, and only the five daughters were at In- 
 veraray. The same evening the Duchess had a 
 paralytic seizure of great severity, and but for the 
 prompt measures taken by Dr. Macdonald, who was 
 then the medical uliicer in the town of Inveraray, 
 there would have been no recovery from the critical 
 condition of unconsciousness in which she was found 
 by one of her children. 
 
 It was a night never to be forgotten by any one of 
 those who hved through its wakeful hours. The time 
 seemed very long before the Duke could retui'u, or Sir
 
 ^ ITO:\IE FOR GOOD CI 
 
 James Simpson, hastily summoned from Edinburgh, 
 could possibly reach the Castle. 
 
 A recollection abides of the arrival of the great 
 physician. He had posted from Balloch, and to 
 utilise the long, dark hours he had fixed at the back 
 of his carriage two candles, by the hght of which he 
 had read with complete absorption, totally oblivious 
 of the mountains of wax which had freely dropped 
 on his massive head with the long, thick, grey hair, 
 and on his broad shoulders. 
 
 The family, hastily summoned, gathered from every 
 quarter, and for many weeks life hung in the balance. 
 
 The Duchess made a partial recovery, but her 
 health from that time to the date of her death was 
 a matter of constant watching and anxiety. To Lady 
 Emma, hearing the reports at Cannes, and to others 
 within the circle of the home, there came many 
 thoughts as to what the future must have in store for 
 her children. The remembrance of the life given 
 back in so marvellous a manner the winter before, 
 rose to every mind, and the words Lady Emma 
 wrote to Lady Victoria when the long and anxious 
 watch was ended, that her hfe had been given back 
 for some " special purpose," were fulfilled in the 
 years that followed this sad calamity. 
 
 After several weeks, the immediate and pressing 
 anxiety was reUeved, and the sisters. Lady Elizabeth 
 and Lady Evelyn, joined the party at Cannes. 
 
 Some of their letters have been preserved, and 
 they show how happily and with what restored 
 youthful enjoyment Lady Victoria was taking in her
 
 62 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 .surround in pjs, and ontoriiiG; into tlio life of tho now 
 count ry. 
 
 Sir J(tlin McNeill came to live in Cannes. His 
 beautiful presence, and stately, kindly manners, 
 made liini a great addition to the friends residing 
 that winter in Cannes. The young people loyed him 
 at first sight, and he devised for them many an 
 enjoyable j)icnic and expedition. Their keen eyes 
 soon perceived that it was not for their edification only 
 that he found so many opportunities of passing his 
 time in their company. 
 
 Lady Emma had been an old friend of Lady 
 McNeill before her death, when she and Sir John lived 
 at Granton. The mind of Lady Emma, engrossed 
 with the charge of her nieces, did not as quickly 
 perceive the happiness, as great as it was deserved, 
 which was coming into her own life. Li the secret 
 fun and nonsense of the hap})y party. Lady Enmia 
 often heard her friend spoken of as ** Uncle John," 
 and she would bid her wild charges keep their tongues 
 in check, and not talk more nonsense than they 
 could help. 
 
 The young people were not deceived. When at 
 last Lady Ennna brought Lady Victoria back to 
 her home, Sir John McNeill also returned to London 
 and sought an interview with the Duke, who was then 
 Secretary of State for India, and in that Office he 
 heard news which surprised him more than it did his 
 daughters. He had not had all their opportunities, 
 but he knew Sir John ^McNeill both in his distinguished 
 life of public service and as a personal friend, and he 
 
 I 
 
 "-'I
 
 . HOME FOR GOOD 63 
 
 realised tliat Lady Emma's future liappiuess was 
 assured. 
 
 Thus was the parting with her " dear bairny " 
 made easier, and those who wondered how it was to 
 be with her, when bereft of one on whom her mind 
 had centred for so long, saw the path made clear 
 for all. 
 
 Among the many interests at Cannes during 
 that winter were the presence of the then Princess 
 Frederick of Prussia and her two young sons, 
 Prince Wilham and Prince Henry. They came 
 occasionally to the Villa, and Lady Victoria refers 
 to their visits in the following letters : — 
 
 Villa Severin, Cannes, Dec. 28///, 18G9. 
 
 Mv dearest Frances, 
 
 Many thanks for your letter ; I got it on 
 Christmas Day. I am afraid you will think me 
 very lazy about writing, and now it Is rather late 
 to wish you a happy Christmas, so this letter must 
 come in for the New Year. I wish you a very 
 happy one. 
 
 It is so nice to hear that dear Mama is so much 
 better ; I do hope she will go on all right now. It 
 will be very nice havmg Libby and Evcy here. 
 I wish you could see this place, it is so beautiful, 
 but just now we seem to have got a touch of your 
 weather. It has been so cold for three days, and 
 there is snow on the Grasse Hills. The chemist 
 told Kjiowles yesterday, when she went to get 
 something, that the Cannes people are quite
 
 64 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 frightened at its being so cold — tliey are so 
 unaccustomed to it. To-day, however, we have 
 had a nice sun, and T just took a turn for about 
 lialf an hour. Tlie donkey was quite frisky after 
 his tliree days' rest — kept kicking up his hind legs 
 in running, whereupon as usual I rewarded him 
 with bread. I am afraid there is not much to tell 
 you until to-day ; I have not been out since 
 Friday. The birds even look quite astonished at 
 this unusual weather, and come knocking against 
 the windows. We have put some bread on the 
 balcony. Last Saturday ])ot went to a Christmas 
 tree for the Protestant Sunday School ; they have 
 it at two o'clock, because people and the tinies don't 
 go out much here after sunset, so they shut the 
 shutters and make it quite dark. Mademoiselle 
 Penchina helped the French pastor to make things 
 for it and to decorate it. 
 
 1870. 
 
 Many thanks fur your letter. I am so sorry to 
 hear that Mama is not quite so well, and I am very 
 anxious to hear again. Do write very often and 
 give us news, because if you don't there is nobody 
 else, now Libby and Evey are away, so you and 
 I\Iary will have plenty of use for your pens. 
 
 It has been such a lovely morning here. Dot 
 and I have been sitting out on the balcony; it is so 
 uuUke January at home. The Dufferins are here 
 now, but they are not going to stay long. Coupe, 
 the donkey, is very well, in excellent condition.
 
 4 
 
 *5?^ 
 
 ELIZABETH, UUCHESS OF ARGYLL 
 (1868.)
 
 I
 
 THOME FOR GOOD 65 
 
 I have had a good many long walks with Knowles 
 lately ; the roads just now are in such a dreadful 
 condition. The soil here is very sandy, and when 
 it rains the roads are in a state fit neither for man 
 nor beast. It is dreadful hard work for the beasts. 
 The other day we drove to see the Campbells. 
 The little bit of road leading dowTi to their house 
 was so bad, that the coachman and horses that they 
 hired struck work, and said it was too much, as 
 they were not very strong beasts, so they have got 
 to get another pair. 
 
 What a shame it is, the horses being killed ! 
 "Why were not Jones' horses used, or, at any rate, 
 the Tarbet horses sent on to meet them ? We are 
 expecting Lady DufTerin to luncheon. 
 
 It is now half-past nine in the morning, and the 
 thermometer outside in the shade is 60°, and the 
 flowers are quite lovely. I hope Mama will get the 
 box all right that Dot has just sent her by the 
 railway ; they won't let them go by the post now. 
 I suppose they think as the flowers are becoming 
 so plentiful it would become troublesome, as people 
 are so fond of sending them, at least they only 
 make objections to them to England. They go 
 from one part of France to another quite easily. 
 People here are very busy getting up picnics. On 
 Monday Libby and Dot are invited to a large party 
 of Lord Dalhousie's for the Islands. There are a 
 good many people going : ]\Ir. Milne, the Scotch 
 minister, the Kintores, and the Balfours, and I
 
 G6 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 don't know whether there are any others. This 
 afternoon we are going in the carriage to join 
 Lady Kintore, and then we go on to a country 
 road, and Lady Kintore and Dot are to take some 
 tea. It is quite a small a Hair, chiefly to gather 
 ferns, there are a good many on that road. Evey 
 and I are just going to have a walk ; I am going 
 out in the httle carriage. I have been a good deal 
 on the saddle lately, and have had many beaut ifid 
 views from the hills. I^ist night we had two 
 tremendous pe^ls of thunder, a very odd storm ; 
 the lightning was very forked, but there only seemed 
 to be two of them. I^st Thursday afternoon Dot, 
 Libbv and I drove to Antibes, and heard the band; 
 it was very pretty. Evey rode the siime afternoon 
 with ^Ir. Campbell. Antibes is such an odd- 
 looking little fortified town. Coming back we 
 li;i(l a lovely view of Nice and the Alps, at 
 least we could only see a httle liit of the Alps, 
 because there was a mist over them. Coming 
 back. Dot got out and got some tuHps. The 
 field where she got them from was ahnost scarlet 
 with them. 
 
 (About one o'clock.) We have just come in from 
 a walk in time for the rain. I suppose the thunder- 
 shower we had last night will break up the weather 
 for a day or two. There is such a dehcious breeze 
 down on the Croisette off the sea. We took little 
 PapilUon out ; he is beginning to follow very 
 well.
 
 "home for good 67 
 
 Are there many snowdrops in the garden still ? 
 One misses them here. We have not seen one, 
 they don't have them. 
 Good-bye now. 
 
 Yours very affectionate, 
 
 Victoria Campbell. 
 
 I seem to be in a mood for making mistakes 
 to-day in my writing. 
 
 April 22)1(1, 1870. 
 
 We have had a very nice tea-picnic this after- 
 noon with Sir John and the two <firls of ^Irs. 
 Ciunming, at least, one is her stepcliild. We went 
 down to a beautiful place here that turns oft* from 
 the Frejus Koad by the river. It is quite lovely, 
 and a httle fir wood just before one comes to the 
 river. Sir John took the courier, who is dreadfully 
 fat, so much so, that one of the coachmen, the one 
 with the pannier, objected to take him with only one 
 horse ; his name is Constantine. He says he was 
 abroad with Papa and Mama and Edith at Rome. 
 I am not quite siu:e if it was the last time, or some 
 years ago. He made a beautiful fire to boil the 
 kettle, and we had a very cosy httle tea. I had 
 Coupe to meet me there, so I was able to go about ; 
 it is such a pretty place. 
 
 We went to the Esterels the other day. One drives 
 to a small village called Napoul at the beginning 
 of them, where the donkeys meet one, and then you 
 ride. It was quite beautiful. The white heather
 
 68 HO]\IE FOR GOOD 
 
 there is much later than at Cannes ; it is nearly 
 over now. Yesterday afternoon the two Uttle 
 Princes, Princess of Prussia's boys, came with 
 their tutor. They are such nice boys, the eldest 
 is eleven, the other seven ; the eldest is very Hke the 
 Queen. They gave us two large eggs (imitation). 
 Mine was white, with a robin upon it ; and Evey's 
 pink, with some tiny httle figures inside. They are 
 going to come again some day. 
 
 November, 1869. 
 
 Dot and I had such a beautiful drive up to a 
 village near here. The man who drove us had such 
 a nice dog, called Marquise ; it was half a Pomera- 
 nian, and seemed such a wise beast. He ran along 
 by the side of the carriage for a long time, and then 
 he took him on the box. It was such fun to see 
 the charge he took of the horses, which were very 
 nice Uttle beasts. 
 
 I have not seen the donkey since Saturday — 
 at least, I have seen him, because the girl brought 
 him on Monday afternoon, but I was too tired, 
 and it had got cold just before this rain came ; so 
 we gave him some bread and sent him away, and 
 I have not been able to get out since. I expect he 
 will be hvely when he is used again. I must write 
 you a longer letter another day, but now I want 
 to write a note to Mary, and then I expect my 
 French mistress at four o'clock." 
 
 The return home was in every sense " for good."
 
 r HOME FOR GOOD 69 
 
 Deep as was her love for her aunt, and deeper still 
 her gratitude for all that she had brought to her, 
 her spiiit craved for the honie-Ufe and intercourse with 
 her parents. AVhat she felt about " the sisterhood " 
 is best put in her o\\'ii words, as she ^\Tote it to one of 
 the number. " Nothing in life will ever be so merry 
 and jolly as our sisterhood, although none of us 
 doubts there is another and better happiness. I often 
 think that one does not sufficiently appreciate, so 
 long as one is in the midst of it, a hfe among ourselves 
 that, however present anxieties may mar it, has 
 always the charm and freshness of a youth that can 
 never quite grow old with us.'' 
 
 She was to be " the soUtary in the family." The 
 thread of family Ufe was often snapped and woven 
 afresh, but through the whole of her hfe the home had 
 lihe first claim on her heart and remembrance. 
 
 Lady Victoria knew what the parting between her 
 and Lady Enuna would mean. At times she had had 
 doubts whether her duty would not be to remain 
 {)eside her. But now Lady Emma was not to retm"n 
 to the hfe she had led before her niece became her 
 first and absorbing care. Another claimed her deep 
 and tender aflections, and Lady Victoria's love 
 *' turned a gam home." 
 
 Sorely was her presence needed. The illness of the 
 Duchess had changed many things, and much had to 
 be faced. We can trace how these new conditions 
 were understood and their meaning grasped. Life 
 had been deepened and instructed by the experience 
 and discipline of the past. A child in years, she had
 
 70 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 the sense of responsibility of one who had passed 
 through much and learned some of the deepest 
 lessons of life. There was " much land yet to be 
 possessed," but the spirit had entered into its heritage, 
 and all things had become new. 
 
 One other matter had to be faced during this 
 period. After her return from Cannes, Lady Victoria, 
 when in town, again went through the treatment 
 prescribed by Dr. Roth. After two or three years, it 
 was necessary to decide whether any further benefit 
 was to be gained by its continuance. The exercises 
 used were a great tax on the strength, and the 
 conditions of the lameness seemed to preclude any 
 further improvement. It appeared more useful to 
 tiu'n all the ingenuity and perseverance of Dr. Roth 
 in the direction of superintending the mechanical 
 supports he had already devised for her assistance. 
 Dr. Radclifl'e, the specialist, who was in constant 
 attendance on the Duchess, was consulted, and he 
 gave the final decision that nothing more could be 
 achieved by pursuing the course of treatment which, 
 during the years of growth, had been so beneficial. 
 
 The following letter fi'om the Rev. Dr. Story, of 
 Rosneath, was placed by her among her thoughts at 
 this time, with a prefix : " Received after Dr. Rad- 
 chfie's decision, I was to discontinue Dr. Roth, and 
 glad though I was in one sense, it was a trial to feel 
 the door was shut." " I was very happy to hear that 
 you were fi'ee from the Drs. this season. What a 
 rehef it must be ! How I wish they could have done 
 all for you one would wish to do, dear Lady Victoria,
 
 ^ HOME FOR GOOD 71 
 
 and yet I believe that you will see, when the plan of 
 your life has been worked out, that the want of that 
 has been better for you than the possession of it could 
 have been. I did not know that I had been a help 
 to you, and what you say about yourself I could not 
 read with dry eyes, — partly from the pleasure it gave 
 me to hear you say it, — partly from a sense of my own 
 unworthiness to have such things said to me, partly 
 from, the feeling, the strong feeling of regard and 
 sympathy I have for you personally, dear Lady 
 Victoria. When you speak of your ' narrowed hfe,' 
 you do not know how much those that have watched 
 even a Kttle of it may have learnt from it, and how it 
 may have helped them to understand : 
 
 " ' 'Tis not the grapes of Canaan that repay, 
 But the high faith that fails not by the way.' 
 
 These lines always echo in my mind with a deep 
 meaning that I daresay you will not comprehend. 
 A\'Ti ether the future is to bring you, or can bring 
 » you, any enlargement of outward activity or not, I 
 am certain your hfe will always be in a far higher 
 sphere, a Hfe full of usefulness and Hght.'* 
 
 In 1877 Lady Victoria went with Bliss Susan 
 Johnstone to Paris, to take advantage of the dehcate 
 skill in mechanical contrivances, in which the French 
 were at that time, at any rate, in advance of the 
 Enghsh makers. Her difficulties, and those of the 
 instrument makers, were not easily overcome, and 
 she spent a month in Paris before returning to London. 
 Even then Dr. Roth's unwearying patience and
 
 72 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 vigilant eye, as to the means of helping this old and 
 creditable patient of his, was not satisfied, and the 
 short daily diary kept in this year is full of notes and 
 observations on her new " steel." When at last 
 completed, it did credit to the ingenuity of her 
 friend, Dr. Roth, and to the delicate adjustment of 
 the makers, ilow elTectively they assisted her, those 
 who remember her activities will understand, but 
 though she never flinched from wearing these sup- 
 ports, as the aids to her going out and coming in, 
 they always meant great fatigue, and rest was only 
 complete when " I have my steel off." 
 
 March, 1877. 
 
 Trying to make plans for usefuhiess, but it seems 
 as if it must wait. 
 
 Thinking much over plans for work, but as yet 
 unsettled. Resolved on Cripples' Home. Made 
 inquiries about Workhouse. 
 
 Went to see a play. Confirmed in disUke of 
 them. Paris. Measurement for new steel. Drove 
 to see Notre-Dame. Wished for more beauty in 
 our churches. Week of much thinking on self 
 and prospects. Letter to my father. Feel fresh 
 energy. 
 
 Went to Deaconess Home; Charmed with it. 
 Saw Flower Mission. Went to Louvre. 
 
 All day in dressing-go wti, expecting Steel people. 
 Miss S. went after them. Came at five. Not 
 right, taken back. Feel very anxious as to its 
 success.
 
 HOME FOR GOOD 73 
 
 April 21 si. London. 
 
 Feel very thankful to be back. Feel in heart for 
 work. How much since I left have I cause for 
 thankfulness. 
 
 Went to see Beau Coventry at Mildniay. Think 
 the Deaconess House charniing. Saw how much 
 was required. At the same time, what home scope, 
 if faithful. Renewed vows. 
 
 May 22nd. 
 
 Twenty-three to-day. Thoughts of past and 
 future hfo. Miklmay opened my eyes to much. 
 
 Week of reahsing how much is happily changed 
 for me, wliik^ feehng what the thing in itself is 
 to me. 
 
 There must be no undue emphasis placed on this 
 part of her Ufe. She overcame any morbid shrinking 
 in herself, and fought her rebelUons, and made this 
 thorn in the flesh no burden to her friends. On the 
 ' other hand, it would be no true history if there was not 
 some account of " the fecht " which had to be fought 
 and won. 
 
 Her lameness never caused acute physical sufiermg, 
 but as her mind grew, and the impulse to energetic 
 action expanded, so did she reahse how heavy was 
 her handicap in the race she had to run. Constantly 
 her iimer meditations turned on the purpose of this 
 not hght afliiction, and her diaries record the " fits 
 of wild rebelHon,'' repented of in such deep sincerity 
 and truth.
 
 74 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 Only in the full realisation of the trial is it possible 
 to understand the dauntless courage which faced all 
 difficulties with so unshaken and cheery a front. 
 
 Her medical friends — and she notes in a letter to 
 a correspondent, " I feel as if my world had been 
 composed of Drs., and I know how tiresome it is " — 
 were well accustomed to her humorous demand that 
 they should cut oil" the useless hmb. In all the perils 
 by land and sea the diHicultios of her movements 
 were not only made hght of, but described with irre- 
 sistible humour. 
 
 " If it has got to be done, it can be done," she 
 would say to Knowles, her prop in hfe, and those who 
 miderstood the particular way to aid and not impede 
 her movements by over-caution received the reward 
 of her humorously worded praise. 
 
 Nature intended her for a life of vigorous physical 
 freedom and exertion. When she returned home, 
 Lkady Victoria found her mother laid aside from 
 much of her usual Hfe. It was natural that the 
 daughter, whose disabilities prevented her taking 
 part in the amusements of her age and of the society 
 to which she belonged, should find herself left the 
 guardian and companion of her mother. This was 
 the first call on her love and duty in the nine years 
 which were to pass before the death of the Duchess. 
 
 A letter, written to the sister who had shared the 
 treatment of Dr. Roth with her, and whose disabiUties, 
 though of a different nature, had brought her into 
 close comradeship with her elder sister, may fitly 
 close this side of the story of her Hfe.
 
 » HOME FOR GOOD 75 
 
 May 2\st, 1878. Eastbourne. 
 
 My dear old F., 
 
 I do not think I can employ my evening better 
 after C. has gone to bed than in writing to my old 
 red-hair hackle. I am sitting opposite the sea, 
 which is tossed about with white horses, every now 
 and then overclouded with wild storms of wind 
 and rain, then Ut up with a bit of rainbow, while 
 Httle ships ever and anon appear tossing, but 
 whiles lit up with a gleam of Hght. They all serve 
 to remind me of one who has tossed on such a sea, 
 but on whose sails there is Hght, although, F., 
 I suppose there must be, to a certain extent, 
 tossing and fechting until our Captain leads us 
 safe into harbour, whereunto He will surely bruig 
 us if we are keeping under His orders, and are 
 waiting on His word of command. 
 
 I know in my own case there are many, many 
 tossings which are my own incurring. F., I hope 
 you will ask for a blessing on " Martha," as, doubt- 
 less, you will be smihng over her texts to-morrow. 
 
 Twenty-four ! I can hardly beHeve it. The time 
 was, and not long ago, when I used to make it 
 my stage (her bii'thday) to watch the progress of 
 my walking powers, begun in old days by maids 
 saying, " I hope by the time your next birthday 
 comes roimd you will be able to walk about.'' 
 
 I hope you are not among those who are deceived 
 by my so-called " patience." As I knelt only last 
 night in Kingie's room the old longing seemed to 
 spring up anew with the mixture you may guess, as
 
 76 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 God docs not chide the lonfjinc. I felt it was a 
 storm which imist have its way, hut oh, F., how 
 im^^rateful it is, because even already I have 
 traced light out of this very darkness, and can see 
 as clear as dayhj:jht how much I have needed 
 and tlo need it, and such storms are, 1 am thankful 
 to Siiy, fewer ami farther between, and cannot, 
 I think, have anx-thing of their okl bitterness. 
 
 1 t«'ll y(»u this because 1 know you will understand 
 it, ami 1 wish you tn know. Although each one 
 must fight out his or her own battle, still, there 
 arc some who can enter more closely into one 
 another's struggles, and I suppose it is partly 
 this feeling which has wrapped you so nmch in 
 my life. 
 
 Do you sup])Ose it was only because I was tired 
 and weakminded, after 1 s;iw your golden pow 
 disappear down the stair, 1 frit I must and might 
 give way ? All the same, 1 was very glad to see 
 you fairly otT, and am glad you are doing what you 
 know to be useful as well as pleasant. 
 
 Don't waste the time, F. ! lie the sister uf 
 "Martha"; nothing like the wish to help other 
 people makes one find out how nmch one requires 
 this. 
 
 23rd. 
 
 I cannot tell you what your letter has been to 
 me to-day. Not diilicult to know where " the green 
 spot " has been. Sometimes I did feel the awful 
 respousibihty you were. I was so afraid I might
 
 HOME FOR GOOD 77 
 
 be doing liarm instoad of pjood, as I daroivw T often 
 did, l)iit I believe God has overruh'd all for good. 
 Tf you needed the telling, I think you would see 
 by my last letter to you what you are to me, and 
 I am glad your letter crossed it, because, although 
 it is not your nature to speak ** fair things," I might 
 have had a lurking fear you wished to shower 
 comfort on me. Don't be afraid of a too-" Martha " 
 spirit just now. These last months have taught me 
 nuich. You have taught me much, and I do know 
 how sinfully unbeheving and distrustful I am to 
 God. You have been the means of keeping me 
 going verv, very often, and perhaps you would be 
 surprised how much 1 lean ujxin you, dear old 
 child. Strange you should have that sentence over 
 your writing-table, " Our hearts are restless, till 
 they rest in Thee." 
 
 Remember, " CJoil will give us the souls, for 
 whom we wrestle." " Tho' mercy long deky," 
 it is still coming. May God help you to bear and 
 wait, and be a blessing to many. 
 
 Last night I sat listening to the soughing of the 
 sea, and the whole thing brought back my Liver- 
 pool and Brighton days to me, and the still small 
 voice heard in the hush of evening seemed to 
 reproach my ingratitude. The ahnost total help- 
 lessness of those days, and now I have C. in charge, 
 and am well enough to do it, and feel the parents 
 do trust me. Such thoughts, as you know from 
 my last epistle, were much needed. Many, many 
 thanks for that letter of yours. Much as I un-
 
 78 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 deserve it, it has brouf^'lit its own messapfo. I 
 agree with you about *' Ood's Peace." If you 
 could compare, as I can, tho whole state of things 
 from when I first came home for good in 1S70, 
 you would see how blessedly (Jod has been teaching 
 and leading many of us, and I look upon us four 
 as a united little band. 
 
 " Trying to make plans for usefulness, l)ut it seems 
 as if it must wait." These very characteristic words 
 describe the whole of her attitude on her return 
 home, and during the next nine years, nuich as there 
 was to do in the home, her energetic mind turned 
 constantly to what she always called "outside work." 
 
 In those days when young women were more tied 
 and hidelK)und with the conventional idea of what 
 women should or should not do, and the hijunction 
 " thou shalt not " was more often laid upon them 
 than not, it was difficult, especially for one in 
 Lady Victoria's condition, to do philanthropic work. 
 Lady Emma had long before led the way among the 
 women of Edinburgh, and though she was always 
 beset with fears whenever anj-thing was proposed 
 that was a tax on her niece's health, still she knew 
 that her unresting energy would never be really 
 content with an existence passed on the sofa, and 
 she helped to break down the conventional ideas 
 which barred her usefuhiess to others. 
 
 The first definite work which Lady Victoria under- 
 took was to \'isit, in company with her sisters, at the 
 Home for Crippled Boys in Kensington. There,
 
 HOME FOR GOOD 79 
 
 weekly, a pleasant hour was passed in reading aloud 
 to the boys in their workshops. 
 
 One of her companions well remembers the nervous 
 strain and the efforts to overcome the natural shyness 
 and deep reserve which Lady Victoria had in these 
 first ministrations. To the very end of her life, 
 speaking to classes and meetings was always with 
 her a great effort, and though she seemed to do so with 
 outwatd ease, the preparation was always most 
 careful, and the effort took much out of her. 
 
 Her next work was one which drew her into closer 
 relations with " the family of mankind." It required 
 a greater effort to overcome her sh\mess, but she 
 fou<dit that dillicultv and overcame the other 
 obstacles, and was at length permitted to visit the 
 ^wards of the Kensington Infirmary. At the bedsides 
 of the patients she had her first training in a ministry 
 to suffering humanity under some of its saddest 
 aspects. 
 
 It was ** twice blessed," for in those wards she 
 iearnt in the temptations of hfe that no strange thing 
 had happened to herself, and in hearing the trials of 
 others she lost the sense of her own individual cares. 
 
 To every strong nature there comes the temptation 
 to beUeve that it stands alone in the world's battle- 
 fields. A strong sense of individuahty is apt to 
 cause a morbid introspection. A large family is too 
 often centred in itself, and beUeves devoutly that its 
 ways are not as other men's, but greatly superior. 
 For all such self-contained and self-sufficient errors, 
 the school of hfe is the best remedy. When the gates
 
 80 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 of knowledge were thrown open, and freedom came 
 from the schoolroom and the gymnasiimi, she became 
 an eager scholar in the great school of humanity. 
 
 A year or two after her return home, Lady Victoria 
 saw that the health of Miss King was gradually 
 faihng. Her anxiety was not Ughtened by knowing 
 how carefully the old woman was concealing her 
 illness and sufferings from the Duchess, for the 
 thought of her mistress was ever foremost in the 
 mind of this devoted servant. 
 
 Lady Victoria shared the secret with another 
 friend in the household, Ehzabeth Knowles, who was 
 unwearying in her efforts to save Miss King all the 
 work she could undertake for her, and she brought to 
 her aid a rare gift of nursing. 
 
 There are many places in this memoir where it 
 would have been possible to give some account 
 of this friend and servant of Lady Victoria's youth. 
 At no time was she drawn into closer intercourse with 
 Lady Victoria than during these years, when the 
 two had a common friendship, and were sharing 
 together the hopes and fears of a sick-room, and it 
 seems appropriate to place here some of the story of 
 her hfe of service. 
 
 Ehzabeth ELnowles had been recommended to the 
 Duchess as a rehable servant to be with Lady 
 Victoria, when she was obhged to reside apart from 
 the family. She had been in the service of Miss 
 IMorritt at Brighton, the beautiful girl to whom Sir 
 Walter Scott dedicated his poem of Rokeby. Miss 
 Morritt was a friend of the IVIisses Johnstone, and
 
 • 
 
 Photo ] 
 
 [Marshal/, JTajte &' Co, 
 
 LADY VICTt)KrA CAMPBKI.L. 
 (1885.)
 
 HOME FOR GOOD 81 
 
 throiif]jli them the Duchess heard of the maid whom 
 she desired to place in so reponsible a position. The 
 *' character " was more in accordance with the truth 
 than many which are given, and from the day that 
 Knowles entered the service of the family till the 
 year when age and infirmities obliged her to retire 
 from her many forms of service, she was always the 
 devoted " watch-dog," as she was truly called, of 
 all tlrat belonged to the interests of her young charge. 
 
 For thirty-nine years Elizabeth Knuwlos belonged 
 to the household, and when Lady Victoria ceased to 
 reside with her father, she accompanied her to Tiree. 
 In a wonderfully preserved old age, she is still able 
 to supplv many a tale of Lady Victoria's wandering 
 life. 
 
 Knowles was a native of Le>i:onstone, a district of 
 Essex, which is now a part of outer London, the great 
 town having long ago swallowed up the country village 
 of the days when she was born and brought up there. 
 At the age of fifteen she first went out to service, 
 and it was in 1800 that she entered the service of the 
 Duchess. 
 
 Knowles recalls the first sight of her charge. For 
 some reason, on arriving at Arg}'ll Lodge, she had been 
 told she was not to see Lady Victoria till the next 
 morning. The lively inquisitiveness of that young 
 person, who was then twelve years old, disregarded 
 this edict, and she appeared " keeking in " at the door 
 of the room where Knowles was seated. Thus the 
 two, who were to tread together through the rest of 
 life's pilgrimage, met face to face. Still vivid to the 
 
 G 
 
 i
 
 82 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 survivor is the picture of the hright face, smiling 
 and full of niLschief, the masses of her abundant golden 
 hair standing out of the dusky background — the 
 whole a vivid contrast to the crutches on which she 
 then moved. 
 
 If Knowles were able to write all the story of the 
 days she spent in that lifetime service, it would be 
 one of deep interest. She was well fitted to carry out 
 the instructions of the doctors, and her perseverance 
 in the long hours of home treatment, if it did not do all 
 it was intended to do, set a fine example of conscien- 
 tious and undeviating duty. It was no " eye service " 
 with her, and she was as faithful to her orders, when 
 apart from supervision, as she was when the authori- 
 ties were at hand. For the first four years of her 
 service she was nmch alone, and she managed the 
 situation of being servant and overseer with a 
 complete understanding of the relative positions of 
 herself and her charge. 
 
 Knowles was most helpful in stimulating and 
 encouraging all Lady Victoria's growing efforts, and 
 she never lost the out look of her fut ure hfe. It was she 
 who first taught her to walk with one stick and the 
 support of an arm, and almost to the end it was 
 Knowles who best understood how to help and aid 
 her. 
 
 It was Knowles who first watched and tenderly 
 nursed the earlier as well as the later stages of the 
 long illness of 18G8. It was she who was convinced 
 that the grave symptoms had their root in some 
 serious cause, and her eflorts never relaxed till she
 
 HOME FOR GOOD 83 
 
 had made the doctor and Lady Emma perceive that 
 life was in danpjer. Foiiunately, thoiipjh witli no 
 special trainin<j:, Knowles was a born nurse, and her 
 sleepless vigilance and tender, resourceful handling 
 were among the good gifts which were sent for the 
 restoration of this life. 
 
 In a very literal sense, she was always the " handy 
 man." In the island life of the future she was to 
 learn 'how to cook and housekeep, and when suppHes 
 failed, she learnt of necessity how to make bricks 
 without straw. It was good to see the shrewd, 
 keen-eyed Londoner dealing witli the western Celt. 
 She was never known to spare the truth as she saw^ it, 
 and to exact an honest account of labour which 
 had been paid for. \\ hetlier she was residing in " the 
 ^ ancestral home," where Dr. Douglas wished to think 
 of Lady Victoria, or far away with her among the 
 winds and billows of the mystic Isles, she said her 
 mind in a manner which left nothing to be under- 
 stood. Some farmer pedigree must have been 
 in her blood, for she had the eyes of a tiller of the soil, 
 and she understood animals thoroughly. 
 
 Two Pomeranian dogs which gave nuich happiness 
 to Lady Victoria as a girl were trained by Knowles. 
 Frisky and PapilUon were great additions, the first 
 to her Life in Brighton, and the last, a Frenchman, 
 came into her possession at Cannes. 
 
 When Knowles began residence among the island 
 crofts, she had plenty to say conceniing the lack 
 of enterprise, the makeshift idleness, and the absence 
 of all go-ahead methods in the farming of her many
 
 84 TTOATE FOR GOOD 
 
 noigh])ours. Her comments were all full of a punp;ent 
 acciiraev wliieh her victims had not energy to conihat. 
 Siie was never content with comment. "When 
 she was finally installed as housekeeper at the newly 
 enlarged lodge in Tiree, she told the factor he had 
 not sufliciently consi(h^red the interests of those who 
 were to dwell in the house. It must be ONSiied, liad 
 she been made clerk of the works and given a free 
 hand, its amenities would have been consideraV)ly 
 increased, and money would have l)een spent to 
 better jnirpose. 
 
 However, Knowles made the best of many n worse 
 job, and she set herself to rear poultry, and make a 
 garden out of an enclosure of sandy grass. It was 
 discouraging when she watched the wild winds 
 lift the cabbages from their shifting roots, and whirl 
 tluin aloft. Hut it was not her role in life to be left 
 grund)ling, and she posses.sed endless ingenuity in 
 making the best of every situation. Many were her 
 contrivances under varying conditions to insure the 
 comfort of one who was always too engaged in a 
 wider field to take note of household cares. 
 
 It is on record that in many of the resting-places 
 Lady Victoria chose in the islands, those who came to 
 call her with the morning cup of tea would find her 
 in a room so thick with smoke, the occupant of the 
 bed was ahnost invisible, but not inanimate, for she 
 woukl be found immersed in writing, and obhvious 
 of the gale which howled outside, or the reek which 
 concealed her within. 
 
 " Who will cook for her, who will provide ? *' were
 
 HOME FOR GOOD 85 
 
 the anxious queries of Lady Emma, when Lady 
 \'ictoria fiist resolved on life in the islands. " Yuu 
 may be certain, my lady, that Lady Victoria will not 
 be allowed to starve," was the answer of Knowles, on 
 the defensive 
 
 She relates how on one of these early occasions a 
 pair of rabbits had been left hi the kitchen. They 
 had to be skinned. The island girl professed herself 
 ignorant of the art, and after the maimer of the 
 islanders, ran awav from the dilliculty. Knowles 
 looked at the rabbits, and at the empty pot, and the 
 runaway girl, and decided that if that pot was to boil 
 she must try her hand. All went well till she reached 
 the head of the rabbit, and then a certain lack of 
 technique made the head come oil" with the skui, to her 
 disgust, and the making of a good story agaiubt 
 herself. 
 
 Many and wild are the adventurous journeys she 
 can tell of now her hps are unsealed. *' Say nothing 
 about it,*' was the frequent conunand in the early 
 * days of their adventures, when her companion 
 feared if all were known the powers that be might 
 recall the travellers into a safe harbom-. 
 
 Often the start was made in the dark of a winter 
 morning or moonless night. The road to the landing- 
 places rough, the guide to the boat, the hght of a 
 nickering lantern. The steamers famous for their 
 impunctuahty and their total disregard of the creature- 
 comforts for man or beast. 
 
 Then the tossing boats, the shppery gangways and 
 deck ladders. Thi'ough it all the strong, skiful arms
 
 80 HOME FOR GOOD 
 
 of the crews who knew how to hi'lp, aiul had no 
 intention she shoulil I'vor sufTer for lack of care. 
 ** If it has got to be done, it can be done," the motto 
 for the day's journey. '* Give me hold of a rope, and 
 I'll manage." On one occasion, owing to the tide, 
 the carriage liad to be backed into the sea, and when 
 the footboard was awash, and the water stood to the 
 horse's shoulder, she was got into it. "If she had seen 
 fear, she could never have done it," thus Knowles 
 sununed up the life she was describing. The sentence 
 reveals the whole secret of her enterprises. 
 
 Knowles ** 8;iw fear " for her charge, but never 
 faiUd to follow her leader and, mercifidly, she saw 
 with her all llie humours of every situation. She 
 was not made of the stulT of too many modern ser- 
 vants. It never occurred to her to talk (»f the work 
 for which she was, or was not, engaged, nor did she 
 know that tiresome situation called " her place." She 
 did what her hand found to do, and if the work was 
 out of the way, she had the pride of perfect service, 
 and brought to the crisis a clever brain, an observing 
 eye, and a mother wit that saw how the thing could 
 be done, and spared not the telling of it. 
 
 Her fearless comments were always just, if not 
 always judicious. IVrhaps she expected too nmch 
 from the raw material which came under her rule, 
 and at times she was heavy on the feckless do-less-ness 
 of her subordinates. 
 
 For thirty-nine years she watched the strenuous 
 Ufe she had so materially fostered, and she knew, 
 as no one else knew, how heavy was the tax on the
 
 HOME FOR GOOD 87 
 
 frail body and tireless spirit. Often her sensations 
 were those of a hen, when the duckling takes to the 
 water. It was her lot to nurse Lady Victoria 
 through innumerable bre^iksdown, and she never 
 shirked the duty of saying " I told you so " with 
 every variety of cheerful intonation. When these 
 reminiscences reach the days of island life, Knowles, 
 as " the universal provider," will often reappear.
 
 CllAiaEK V 
 
 " PASTORS AND MASTERS " 
 
 " Oh, fncnil-i wjlh wliorn my feci have tnxl 
 The <iuicl ai.tles of prayer, 
 (ilail wjliie.ss lij your zeal for God 
 And love of man, I l>car." 
 
 After her lioinccoinin;,' " for good," Lady Virtoria 
 kept no rof^idar diary, llicrc are a few scattered 
 notes, })iit the little books, sometimes conscientiously 
 begun, usually became memorandums of sermons 
 she had " siit under," to use her constant phrase. 
 
 It is diiVicult not to regret that her own experiences 
 were not more often her theme, rather than sermons, 
 wliich occasionally do not seem quite worthy of her 
 elaborate care for their preservation. One such eflort 
 was made in 1871, when a small diary notes : " The 
 Queen paid a visit to Argyll I^dge. Cockey died." 
 This last being a very ancient and much-beloved 
 Australian cockatoo of the grey and carmine tribe, 
 who had been one of the family for many years. It 
 was not till 1876, when a diary was presented to her 
 with an inscription by Dr. MacGregor, that she began 
 that daily record which was written up week by week, 
 till within a day or two of her death. 
 
 The constant recording of the sermons she heard 
 was only the outward evidence of her weekly " times 
 
 88
 
 "PASTORS AND DUSTERS" 89 
 
 of refreshing." The deprivation she felt most 
 serious, when she was hiicl low by her many illnesses, 
 was any prolonged absence from church. She always 
 noted how few or how many Sundays in the year, 
 this misfortune had overtaken her. 
 
 She much resented the attitude of doctors towards 
 churchgoing. There is nothing more absurd in the 
 not infrequent absurdities of medical advice than the 
 dictmn that the atmosphere of church on Sunday is 
 detrimental to the health, while that of the theatre 
 durhig the week is perfectly salubrious. It is part of 
 medical *' connuon law " to })ander to the taste for 
 bad air when it suits the patient's desires to 
 breathe it. 
 
 Lady Victoria had learnt from Lady Ennna to 
 seek medical advice on the Monday morning rather 
 than on the Saturday night, and this habit of hers 
 was well understood by her many friends in the world 
 of doctors, in which she says she had lived so much. 
 Many of them were among the greatest friends she 
 possessed, and she repaid all of them with a bright 
 outlook, however painful the condition in which they 
 found her. None of them perhaps ever gauged to 
 what an extent mind tuld upon matter, but from all 
 who attended her she received an ungrudged devotion. 
 
 After Lady Victoria's retmii in 1870 the family, 
 when in London, attended the English Presbyterian 
 churches in Allen Street and Nottiug Hill. The 
 National Chui'ch of St. Columba had not yet been 
 built. The minister in Kensington at that time was 
 the Rev. Gavin Carlyle, the nephew of Edward
 
 90 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 
 
 Irving. His church was near the Lodge, and she 
 and Miss King were soon regular attendants. 
 
 The family were all brought up as members of the 
 Church of Scotland, but the practice of the Duke and 
 Duchess was to attend the National Church in 
 England, as well as in Scotland. The Duke cared 
 first of all to hear good preaching, and he went 
 wherever he could find it. In the early days of his 
 London Ufe he attended the ministry of Dr. Cumming, 
 in Crown Court Church, Covcnt Garden, and in hiter 
 years he went regularly to Westminster Abbey, 
 where Dean Stanley was making it one of the greatest 
 preaching stations in London. He also went with 
 his children to the church in Regent Square, where 
 Dr. Oswald Dykes was ministering to many a Scot, 
 as well as to the English Presbyterians.' 
 
 Within this period the parish church of Kensington 
 had received its young vicar, the l^v. William Mac- 
 lagan. For forty years, Archdeacon Sinclair had been 
 the vicar of the quaint Queen Anne church, built for 
 " the Court suburb " of Kensington. He had Uved 
 to plan and rear the stately church of to-day, and 
 into its newly consecrated walls came the vicar 
 with the Scottish name and descent. The time he 
 spent in London was destined to be one of widespread 
 influence, and when he left the vicarage it was to 
 move forward to high place in the Episcopate of the 
 Church of England. His evangelical preaching and 
 the weekly Bible readings were of the greatest 
 
 ' The Duke, writing of Dr. Dykes, says, " so glad alxjut Dykea' 
 sermou. He L? the most instructive preacher I have ever heard in any 
 church. So much thought, so many, so little mere ornament"
 
 "PASTORS AND DUSTERS" 1)1 
 
 interest to Lady Victoria, and she with the Duchess 
 and other members of the family were constantly 
 in the parish church. 
 
 In those days the order of service left some- 
 thing to be desired in the Church across the Border, 
 and very notably so in the Highland ])arishes. It 
 was not easy at that time, and in all places, to find 
 Life either in the pulpit or in the pew, in the Church 
 of her fathers. There is a note among her papers 
 as to the cfYect of hearing for the first time the 
 hynm " Through the night of doubt and sorrow, on- 
 ward goes the pilgrim band." Those who were not 
 brought up on '* human hynms " had for recompense 
 the conscious joy of receiving a first impression of 
 their meaning and beauty : — 
 
 liynm 274, A. & M. Heard fiist when with my 
 mother hearing Canon Body preach. A procession 
 passing through the world, ever and anon others 
 come and join. Light beams on them through the 
 darkness, and they follow the Captain of their 
 salvation through suileriug. " One hope of your 
 calling." 
 
 Lady Victoria loved the stately Utui'gy, and, above 
 all, the music of the Anglican services. She was 
 often a communicant, though the administration of 
 the rite had its difficulties for her, and she preferred 
 in this and its services of " free prayer " the forms 
 of her o^vn Church. 
 
 No such exclusiveness as she had seen in her Edin- 
 burgh surroundings ever hampered the Church hfe of
 
 92 "PASTORS AND IMASTERS " 
 
 herself or the family. They were destined among 
 themselves to be closely in touch with both the 
 National Churches, and in Scotland the Duke's friend- 
 ships were never interfered with by the name of the 
 Church. At Inveraray Dean ]Milman, Bishop Wilber- 
 force, and Dr. Guthrie were all asked to preach to a 
 ** willing people.'' 
 
 As the services of the Church Cathohc and Apostolic 
 were her great comfort in life, so naturally any stone 
 of offence cast into that ** comfortable way " was the 
 greater stumbling-block. She knew from a varied 
 experience the seamy side of Church pohtics, but it 
 never narrowed her own charitable outlook. She 
 found green pastures and still waters through many 
 channels of church life, and ecclesiastical titles and 
 sectarian labels never hindered her attendance or her 
 friendships with the clergy. 
 
 She had a keen eye for character, and anything 
 which was not " straight " she detected very cjuickly. 
 She had to suft'er a great deal from sectarian partizan- 
 ship, and the ways of Scottish dissent, whether of 
 Episcopahans or Disruptionists, were often " hard to 
 thole." Those who belong to small sects, whether 
 in Church or State, are apt to pursue their ends by 
 means not always open and above board, and the 
 weaker they are in numbers and influence, the more 
 shifty and intolerant are they hkely to become. 
 
 Among her friends at this time were Dr. Guthrie 
 and his son, the minister of Liberton Free Church ; 
 Dr. Ker, of the United Presbyterian Church ; 
 Mr. Carlyle, Dr. Saphir, and Dr. Oswald Dykes, of
 
 •'PASTORS AND MASTERS" 93 
 
 the English Presb}i;erians. Dr. Story, Professor 
 Charteris, Dr. MacGregor, with ]\Ir. Maclagan and 
 Mr. Webb-Peploe, were all guides to her spiritual 
 life, and with all she formed deep and abiding friend- 
 ships. 
 
 It may well be said, about these friendships and 
 the many more she made as life went on, that her 
 best and truest friends were the ministers of the 
 Churcli. From the first contact with her mind and 
 character they recognised her rich gifts, and knew 
 that they were from her early years dedicated to the 
 highest service. All along the ascent of " the hill 
 Difficulty," she met from them with recognition, 
 encouragement, and cver}i:hing that could stimulate 
 her mind and aid her spiritual life. They under- 
 stood the intrepid spirit, the keen intellect, the 
 unselfish thought for everyone before herself, her 
 ])owers of organisation, and if in some things they 
 felt her eager zeal outstripped their own, they never 
 grudged her all she asked of their time and energy. 
 
 In the bag she always wore at her side, the scrip 
 of many a pilgrimage, there was foimd after her death 
 the few hues yearly written to her by her minister. 
 Dr. Fleming, in the church of St. Colimiba, as she 
 set sail for the islands. The notes were written 
 through several years. All of them remembered the 
 perils and wearinesses of the road, and wished the 
 traveller God-speed. As she prepared to journey 
 west these words of encouragement and benediction 
 were placed ready to her hand. There they were 
 found, "when travelling days were done."
 
 94 " PASTORS AND MASTERS " 
 
 Cliicflv thr(iu«^li the early frioiulship with J)r. 
 Cliarforis lior Hues woro in these years firFiily anchored 
 ill the Chiinh of Scotlaiul. '\'\io ^^reat awakening 
 of her spiritual life had eome to her when she was 
 under the influrnee of the Free Church of Scotland. 
 She knew and thoroughly understood all the hist<:)ry 
 of that body of Presbyterian belief. She drank of its 
 evangelical fervour, but the fruits of the sin of schism 
 had been seen by her, and she knew it was best to 
 abide in the National Church. Her instinct of loyalty 
 to the Church of her father, and the advice and en- 
 couragement of Professor Charteris, made her fling 
 herself heartily into the renewed " life and work " 
 of the Church of Scotland. 
 
 She had a tendency towards what Dr. Story 
 called " dissenting tabernacles," if they contained 
 what she was wont to call '* spiritual food." No 
 one felt more quickly than she did when there was 
 " no message," when, as she termed it, " the place 
 seems dead," or when she realised with keen intuition 
 that the pastor was merely a hireling whose own the 
 sheep were not. 
 
 If she received much blessing from those she 
 termed pastors and masters, they in their tuni 
 were stimulated and uplifted by the presence of that 
 reverent and intense *' hearer of the Word." *' She 
 was always a wonderful Hstener," was the description 
 of one of her ministers, when he knew he would never 
 again look down on the still figure with upturned 
 face, the clear eyes fixed on the preacher. 
 
 If the ministers gave much to her, one and all
 
 " PASTORS AND MASTERS " 95 
 
 ffll tlicmsolvos inspired and onri<]iod hv licr prosonce 
 in the parish and iliurch. 
 
 After a short residence in one parish, and at a 
 ti!]ie wli(>n she was snfTerin*; from j^reat weakness 
 after a long iUness, tlie minister wrote to her : — 
 
 You have no idea what a strenj^h it gives to a 
 minister to liave a parishioner Hke you. I liad 
 a talk to-day with Mrs. II., and she siiid you had 
 heartened her in a way no other person had ever 
 done. She ajipeared to have been quite touched 
 liy what you had said to her, and it gave me an 
 opening I have never had before. 
 
 I shall carry out your instructions to the letter, 
 to the best of my al>ility. If you allude to church 
 attendance, might you say sometliing about the very 
 depressing effect irregular church attendance has 
 on the minister ? I hate, myself, to enter on these 
 personal matters, but you have no idea how down 
 in the mouth I sometimes am on a Sunday evening 
 from this reason. ALmy, many thanks to you, 
 L;uly Victoria, for your keen and kind interest 
 in the welfare of this parish. I know it is to you 
 a labour of love, but to me it is an unspeakable 
 joy. My hope and prayer are that your example 
 may infect some of the parishioners. 
 
 Such words as these will find an echo in the heart 
 of many a toiUug minister whose isolation, sometimes 
 of spirit as much as of place, she in her turn ministered 
 unto. Probably her wandering life brought her into
 
 90 "PASTORS AM) MASTERS" 
 
 communion with more chiirchos tlian almost anvono 
 of IitT fjciuTation. Very many, and scattered over a 
 wide field, were the pulpits from which the Sunday 
 after her death words of thankful remembrance were 
 uttered from the heart for this strong daughter of 
 the faith. 
 
 Loyalty to the minister was her first demand from 
 all church-workers with whom she was associated. 
 She was not destitute of the true mark of Scottish 
 Presh^ierians, and she knew how to criticise the 
 minister. *' How can he give anything out if he puts 
 notliing in," was a comment she would nuike on a 
 sermon d€\stitute of study. Her criticisms were 
 always to the minister, and not on him to others, and 
 in friendly confabulation she communicated to him 
 her mind without reserve. One minister relates how 
 she once arrived at his door on behalf of one of his 
 parishioners, for whose welfare she was at the moment 
 deeply concerned. " Be quick ! The man will be 
 dead while you are waiting to go to him." " I knew," 
 Si\id another when the record was closed, " that she 
 always kept me up to the mark ; I did not realise 
 she was keeping fifty others." 
 
 She had the strongest dislike to the petty and dis- 
 loyal backbitings, however Christian their site and 
 environment, which too often sap the vitahty of 
 Church organisation. 
 
 Certainly no minister had ever cause to complain 
 of her absence from ordinances. Occasionally they 
 joined their brethren of the heahng art, in recom- 
 mending less strenuous church-going. They were not
 
 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 97 
 
 those who knew host whoroin she found rest. " No 
 true friends," she would hni^hingly say. A descrip- 
 tion of her, uttered by an old woman at Inveraray, 
 was often quoted on such occasions, and no one 
 enjoyed the story more than she did herself. " And 
 how's Lady Victoria ? Dear lady ! She is sore on 
 herself, she is that gospel greedy." 
 
 " Gospel greed " was satisfied in these years of 
 residence in London and Edinburgh, and her friend- 
 ships with the men who understood her difliculties, 
 and the participation in the Christian year of the 
 Church of England, all contributed to the growing 
 expansion of her mind. 
 
 The mental and bodilv sufTerin"s of Miss Kinir 
 made her turn eagerly to the counsel and help of one 
 who, in the story of Miss King's Life, she describes 
 as " The Pastor of another nation." Dr. Adolj))! 
 Saphir's refined and sympathetic friendship stood her 
 in good stead in this Siid time. lie was a frequent 
 visitor to her and to the sick-room, and Lady Victoria 
 "confided to him the clouds which darkened the valley 
 of shadows. Dilliculties which were shared in by her- 
 self, and the fatigue of body, told on her in great 
 spiiitual depression. Lady Victoria's notebooks show 
 what a learner she was, and how gladly she heard 
 this preacher. Dr. Saphir expounded the Law and 
 the Prophets with profound knowledge of the history 
 of his own race, and with the fervent evangelical piety 
 of his Christian ministry. The fife of this remarkable 
 minister, written by the Rev. Gavin Carlyle, contains 
 a correspondence with Lady Victoria. The subjects, 
 
 H
 
 98 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 
 
 both of these letters and others which were not pub- 
 lished, show how wide was the range of her inquiries, 
 and on how many topics she sought for information 
 from this tender and fervent evangelist. 
 
 After the death of ]\Iiss King, Lady Emma was 
 determined Lady Victoria should have a complete 
 change, and arranged that she should accompany 
 them to those western isles which had only just 
 begun to appear on the horizon of her life. In a letter 
 written in 1875 she says : — 
 
 I am very glad to have been with her to the last. 
 She wandered a little sometimes. She asked me 
 for myself one day, and then, when she found it 
 was I, she muttered something about being alike. 
 She thought it was one of the others. 
 
 It is so difficult to take in one will never see the 
 dear face again. I am going to see her grave before 
 I go, it is not far from Dr. Guthrie's. I am so 
 glad Uncle John went. It was a glorious day, 
 and so Dot was not fussy about him. He came in 
 on Friday last to see her. She said she wished she 
 had words to express her gratitude to him. Just 
 in her old way, and then fussed about his cup of 
 tea being right. 
 
 The McNeills think of leaving this next Friday, 
 and go by lona to Colonsay. I think it will be nice 
 going with them. I have not seen either place, 
 but naturally nothing can seem very cheerful just 
 now.
 
 "tASTORS AND MASTERS" 99 
 
 " I have not seen either place \ " So do our 
 destinies meet us, and with a heart left behind in 
 the Holy City her steps were turned, for the first time, 
 to the sacred isle. Ten years later she wrote to one 
 of her sisters, who was going there, " Make use of 
 lona. Next to Auld Reekie, it is the dearest spot on 
 earth to me. I wad fain lay me doon and dee there." 
 
 There is no record left of this her first visit. She 
 returned to Inveraray to take up again her home 
 work, and that her spirits were returning is shown by 
 the extract given here of a letter she wrote to one of 
 the sisterhood. 
 
 Inveraray. Oct. StJi, 1875. 
 
 ... I had a very nice drive with Papa this morn- 
 ing which was extremely good for me. He showed 
 great solicitude about my driving at breakfast, 
 and I accordingly found him ready to go with me. 
 The start was a little anxious, as Largy appeared 
 as usual alone, and Donald informed me he was 
 not in quite a serene temper, as Cohn, who had had 
 him the other day with j\Ir. Meikle, had whipped 
 him off from the door, " and he has not forgotten 
 it, my lady." Baby, who had met him and driven 
 him to the door, hastened to assure me he had got 
 quite quiet directly she took the reins, which I 
 quite believe, and felt pretty confident Mr. Largy 
 would be quite satisfied as soon as he found it was 
 I, which view Donald also took. 
 
 No sooner had my father taken his seat than he 
 inquired if we could go to the Queen's Drive ?
 
 100 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 
 
 Assent was given, and in a south-west gale off we 
 set ; Papa making some rude remarks anent lieinpj 
 blown away were it not for my solidity, and if 1 
 had become incapable of keeping my seat through 
 giggles it would have been thanks to him. Largy 
 behaved like a gentleman, as he is, and you may 
 tell Dot with my love, that women's driving 
 with horses of that character i.s preferable and 
 safer on the principle of gentleness. I took the 
 opportunity of hinting strongly for a gig-pony, 
 told him you had had more pain, and heard again 
 from him that you must not over exert. All these 
 put together, who can sav what may not come 
 of it ? 
 
 A httle earlier the Duke had purchased the yacht 
 " Columba," which was to add greatly to the 
 hapjnness of himself and the members of his 
 family who enjoyed yachting. It was considered the 
 best thing for the Duchess's health, and the Duke 
 loved nothing so well as to get away " as free as the 
 seagidls " to his yacht, and turn her course to the 
 winds and waves of the western isles. In the 
 " Cohnnba " the family became intimately acquainted 
 with the Islands, and gradually Lady Victoria read 
 in those waters the message to herself. She preserved 
 among her papers two letters from the Duke, written 
 about his visit to that island when it was to her, what 
 Dr. Mair of Earlston called it later, when declining 
 to find someone exactly fitted for the post she de- 
 scribed : " I am afraid such a person is not kept in
 
 "PASTORS AND DUSTERS" 101 
 
 stock here — she would need to be made to order ! 
 Besides, I doubt that at the £"^5^ of Scotland it would 
 be thought expatriation to go to Tiree — the place is 
 a terra incognita." 
 
 One person, in these years of training, was being 
 " made to order," but the time was not yet, and the 
 Duke writes to her of two expeditions he makes to 
 the terra incognita. It was a land he loved dearly, 
 and file description he gives is as vivitl as his affection 
 was great. The second visit was after the death of 
 the Duchess, in 1878. 
 
 July loth, 1874. Benmore Cottage. 
 
 We made out Tyree beautifully, Init the 
 *' Columba " rocked gently all night, and Mama 
 felt as if she had " to hold on," so it prevented her 
 sleeping. Therefore we did not stay long, and ran 
 back to Bunessan where we had a glorious sunset. 
 We trawled with the net out of Bunessan Harbour, 
 and caught a great deal of the Norway lobster, 
 which I had never seen before. It is lilce a gigantic 
 prawn. Very pretty, and excellent to eat. 
 
 We start to-morrow for Skye to see Loch Coruisk, 
 as the weather looks again fine and settled with 
 wind from the north. If this weather continues, 
 1 shall be tempted to run to my favourite Glen 
 Dhu, in Sutherland. The fishing here is nothing 
 now, and Baby chaffs the Doctor about it. Mary 
 has been riding on a pony from Knock, and she 
 rode in Tyree. That island is dehcious with birds. 
 Larks in thousands, plovers, sandpipers, and sea
 
 102 " PASTOKS AND MASTERS " 
 
 birds of all sorts. The smell of the grass, too, is 
 full gf perfume. 
 
 " CoLUMRA," Tyrke. *SV/}. KI/A, 1880. 
 
 Dearest Victoria, — The morning rose so fine that 
 I determined to run to lona to see the cross and 
 then on here, all which we have accomplished in 
 the most dehcious weather. The cross is beautiful 
 in itself, lliither spoiled by the railing and the low 
 wall round it. But we could not allow all who come 
 to get access to it. Blackguards would inevitably 
 break the edges of! and damage it. It is beautifully 
 worked, and dear oKl Vass touched me by the 
 intense delight with which he received my praises 
 (»f it. He walked oil, averting his face, and re- 
 peating, " Well, that's good to hear." It is very 
 conspicuous from the sea, perhaps hardly massive 
 enough from that distance to have the best etiect, 
 l)ut it is on the site with the finest view, and 
 closest to where she Siit last time we were there. 
 The day has been divine. I never saw one more 
 lovely. All the hills of all the islands were clear 
 under a sky of the softest creamy whites and blues. 
 The sea nearly quite smooth. T hope to spend 
 all to-morrow on the island if the weather keeps 
 as fine. We had a good fishing to-night ; Constance, 
 as usual, catching most of the biggest, llamish 
 much excited. The bay here is quite calm. All 
 the islanders busy taking in tlieir harvest. I 
 enclose a bit of fern from the spot where Mama 
 last sat at lona.
 
 
 PASTORS iVND MASTERS" 1U3 
 
 BuNESSAN. 17///, G p.m. 
 
 Just come from Tyree, where we had a most 
 successful visit. Yesterday was glorious. 
 
 Your affectionate father, 
 
 Argyll. 
 
 It was in 1874 that the personality, mentioned by 
 the Duke as " Ilamish," was to bring his enthusiastic 
 and vital friendship into the Argyll family. 
 
 The Duke had been to hear the great preacher 
 in Edinburgh. He had mo personal accpiaintance 
 with Dr. MacGregor, but being in town for a Sunday, 
 and all his '* auld Lichts " being dead or gone, he 
 asked advice of the waiter in his hotel where he should 
 attend church. 
 
 lie was directed to St. Cuthbert's Church, to which 
 Dr. MacClregor had just been called. The Duke 
 heard him in the morning, and followed him in the 
 evening to the Tron Church, an act which considerably 
 discomposed the preacher as he heard the Duke was 
 again sitting under him, and his intention had been 
 to give the Tron congregation what had served that 
 of St. Cuthbert's. 
 
 The Duke wrote at once to the Duchess that he 
 had " found a second Guthrie," and according to his 
 wont it was not long before he had made the acquain- 
 tance of the minister whose preaching had at once 
 so deeply attracted him. 
 
 Dr. MacGregor arrived at Inveraray in the autumn 
 of 1874. He came as a new acquaintance of the 
 Duke's ; he left it a friend who had entered into the
 
 104 "TASTORS .VXD MASTERS" 
 
 very heart of the alTections of every member of the 
 family. He himself had passed through the heaviest 
 trial it was possible to sustain. His home had been 
 destroyed by a series of devastating losses, and was 
 left unto him desolate. He came to Inveraray well 
 able to understand the brooding anxieties which 
 hung over the family, and he saw with living sym- 
 pathy the portion of care which fell to the lot of 
 each one. 
 
 The new interests and surroundings ministered to 
 his own bereaved life. No touch of morbid intro- 
 spection ever clouded the fervent l)elief of " the little 
 doctor." He found too much of it among his new 
 friends, and he set himself to teach one and all that 
 religion was the happiest and brightest thing in 
 life. 
 
 He became the inthnate friend of the Duke, and 
 the Duchess, if at first a little surprised at the eager 
 excitement of his manner, trusted and understood 
 him completely. ** I su})pose he considers it an 
 apostoUc injunction," was her comment, as she 
 witnessed an unconventional and fervent leave- 
 taking. He never left, but he was bidden to return. 
 He was the life of the schoolroom, and he created 
 one for himself. He found a lamentable ignorance 
 of the GaeUc among the young people, and, sending 
 for a number of Gaelic grammars, he inscribed the 
 names of each, and at a table round, in one of the 
 Castle turrets, he instituted himself schoolmaster. 
 With a long quill pen as ruler he endeavoui'ed to 
 reduce to order " the giiis " under his tuition. There
 
 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 105 
 
 was more fun than learning of Gaelic, and only one 
 of the scholars took seriously to heart the admonition 
 that Gaehc ought to be as much part of their Uves 
 as was their highland ancestry. The fii'st repayment 
 that was made him was to give him the Gaelic 
 rendering of his own name, and he soon learnt that 
 he had become better known as " Dr. llamish '' 
 than by his proper designation. 
 
 He read Itahan with another of his new pupils, 
 and in the long summer nights of the first of his 
 many arrivals at " beautiful Inveraray,*' he taught 
 the whole party some elementary astronomy. No 
 yachting expedition was complete without him. 
 " llamish much excited," might have been entered 
 into the log-book of the yacht every hour. The 
 glories of ** God's world," and the wonders of the 
 deep, never palled on his eager spirit. He was as 
 welcome in the smoking-room as everywhere else. 
 " All things to all men," and ever bringing with his 
 presence the power of throwing himself whole- 
 heartedly into the lives of those who always sought 
 his society. " Roars of laughter," in his own words, 
 marked his whereabouts, and the bright vitahty of 
 temperament cast sunshine wherever he went. 
 
 Many of the friends of that day can look back 
 and see what a good gift his friendship was in their 
 lives. He had come to stay. Never did his interest 
 and grip of their hands and hearts loosen, till death 
 had thinned that large circle, and he himself had 
 passed with his triumphant and joyous faith into 
 the light that never was on sea or land.
 
 100 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 
 
 Some notes from Lady Victoria's diary of 1877 are 
 indications of her work, and give slight memorandums 
 of the early visits to the islands with her parents. 
 
 London. March \lth, 1877. 
 
 Went with M. to Infirmary, encouraged to go 
 again. The difference of people's lives. En- 
 couraged to go on. 
 
 July nth. 
 
 Left Inveraray for Campbeltown. Morning on 
 deck with Mama. Afternoon sat and talked to 
 Mary by the wheel. Lovely lights on Arran Hills. 
 Saw the hills of Rosneath. 
 
 July \2th. 
 
 C. and I went in the boat to fish. 
 
 Juhj l3(Ji. 
 
 All day on board. Wet. Began Dr. Saphir's 
 book. 
 
 Sumlaij, July Iblh. 
 
 All day on board. Very stormy. Read Liddon 
 and Erskine. Mr. Maclagan's Bible-reading notes. 
 
 July l&h. 
 
 Still detained by weather. 
 
 July ml I. 
 
 Came round the Moil to Lowlandman's Bay.
 
 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 107 
 
 July 18th. 
 
 Lovely morning. Paps of Jura clear. Ran to 
 Oban. Beautiful sunset. 
 
 Jidij 19^7^. 
 
 Started with Dr. I\IacGregor on board, but, coming 
 on wet, ran into Tobermory. Read Liddon's 
 sermons. 
 
 July 20th. 
 
 Went to lona. Heavy swell. Lovely day. 
 Landed at lona, walked about. 
 
 July 2UL 
 
 Read Skene to ]\L while the others went ashore. 
 Then to Loch Scridan. Trawled, but too wet. 
 Places recalled much to me. What deep cause for 
 thankfulness there is. 
 
 July 22nd. 
 
 Dr. MacGregor had service on board. Text, 
 " The Lord is King, let the earth rejoice." The 
 doctrine of God's decrees, and the comfort of them. 
 " I know no other ray of hope and of hght." 
 
 July 23rd. 
 
 All day at Bunessan. Read to M., and wrote 
 out Dr. MacGregor 's sermon. Thunderstorm in 
 evening. 
 
 July 24th. 
 
 Went to lona for letters. Back to Salen. Took 
 Dr. MacGregor to see Dr. Gumming.
 
 108 "PASTORS AND ]\L\STERS '* 
 
 July 2oth. 
 
 Blowing hard. Morning with Mary. Writing 
 out sermon. Back to Buncssan. Fishing and 
 walking. 
 
 Juhj 2G(h. 
 Started for Oban. Stopped to sec Stafla. 
 
 Juh/ 21th. 
 
 Trawled near Lochnell. Anchored at Lismorc. 
 Brought back to me the time in 1874 ; so much 
 ground gone over since then. Never, I think, to 
 be retrod. 
 
 The next break in the family life was caused by 
 the fire at Inveraray Castle in 1877. 
 
 There is a characteristic entry of this event in 
 Lady Victoria's diary : — 
 
 Awoke about five by Knowles. Castle on fire ; 
 all got out safely into stables. Rest of the day 
 in inn. Fire got under soon. ]\Iis. Blair died. 
 
 The last name was that of the wife of one of the 
 tenants, whose sick-bed she had been attending. 
 The fire was to be a landmark in the family hfe. 
 It broke the routine of the patijiiug years, and it 
 proved to be the close of one of the chapters in the 
 story of their hves. 
 
 It may be that the shock, so calmly borne at the 
 time, or the sudden exposure in the stormy morning,
 
 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 109 
 
 affected the Duchess's already shattered health ; she 
 failed steadily from that date till the end. 
 
 The Duke removed his household for the winter 
 to Rosneath Castle, a return which was an unmixed 
 joy to the members of the family, who had not for 
 many years revisited the home of their early youth, 
 and the centre of their devoted affections. 
 
 Among the friendships which were strengthened 
 and renewed by the return to Rosneath, was the one 
 with the widow of the Rev. Dr. Campbell, of Row. 
 Mrs. Campbell and her family were living at the house 
 where Dr. Campbell had died. Achnashie, on the 
 Gareloch, was, what its name denotes, " the field of 
 peace," and Lady Victoria found much comfort 
 in the sagacity and warm-hearted love of Mrs. Camp- 
 bell, and in the friendship of her daughter, Margaret. 
 To this last she writes, after the winter had 
 passed : — 
 
 I am so very glad to know your mother and 
 yourself. It is amongst the very pleasant things 
 of this last winter, and I feel in you I have made 
 a friend for Ufe, for your own sake, but the beginning 
 of my feeling was your being your father's daughter. 
 He is one of the causes which made me look on 
 Rosneath as a corner of the Holy Land, and, as I tell 
 you, the verse which always comes to my mind 
 in connection with him is this, '*He being dead, 
 yet speaketh." I read both the pamphlets, and 
 think them, as I think all his writings, beauti- 
 ful.
 
 110 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 
 
 Oct. mh, 1877. 
 
 Started for Rosneatli. Thinking much of all 
 that had happened. Feel return to Rosneath, 
 very sad. People on the pier. 
 
 Oct. 20///. 
 
 Saw Dr. Story. Feel the blank of Kingie terribly. 
 Think of the time passed since being here when 
 only thirteen. 
 
 Oct. 2lst. 
 
 All went to church. Dr. Story on, " Be watchful, 
 strengthen the things which remain." Applied to 
 our own spiritual Ufe. 
 
 Oct. 22nd. 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. Story called. Would hke to see 
 more of him. Feel the blank more and more. 
 
 Oct. 21th. 
 
 Afternoon in donkey-chair with Louise and the 
 sisters, roimd the Green Isle point. Thought much 
 of old times and my lonely rides there. Week of 
 much anxiety. Feel how much cause for thankful- 
 ness we have, and that now we must settle down. 
 A week of much dreaming. 
 
 The year closed in the old home in peaceful quiet. 
 The intercourse with the Manse was a happy feature 
 of the winter, and the family had their first experience 
 of an observance of Christmas Day in the parish 
 church.
 
 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 111 
 
 The dawn of the year 1878 she met with a note of 
 remeiubraiicc. 
 
 Jan. 1st, 1878. 
 
 " Thy vows are upon nio, God. If any man 
 will do His will, he shall know of the doctrme. 
 In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall 
 direct thy path. In everything, by prayer and 
 supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests 
 be made known unto God, and the peace of God 
 which passeth all understanding shall keep us." 
 
 Dr. Story preached on " Redeeming the time, 
 for it is short." 
 
 The Duke and Duchess removed early in January 
 to London. Lady Victoria was detained at Rosneath 
 by the very serious illness of Knowles. Some of her 
 sisters remained with her, and Communion Sunday 
 was in the last week of January. Her mother wrote 
 to her : — 
 
 I shall think of you in Rosneath Church next 
 Sunday. You will tell me all about it. My first 
 Scotch Communion was in the old church there 
 in 1844, a very long time ago. I send you my best 
 blessing. God grant His blessing more and more, 
 and give you the happiness which comes from 
 beheving in His redeeming love — " the peace 
 which passeth all understanding." 
 
 Never again was the Duchess to return to her 
 Scottish homes. In the May of 1878 the long struggle 
 against increasing weakness ended with starthng
 
 112 "PASTOES AND MASTERS" 
 
 suddenness. There had been two attacks of her 
 malady in recent years ; the final seizure was one 
 of great severity, and she never recovered conscious- 
 ness. The Duke and Duchess were dining with 
 Lord and Lady Frederick Cavendish, to meet their 
 old friend, Mr. Gladstone. He was among the first 
 of the guests to see, during dinner, that the Duchess 
 was seriously ill. By him, she was carried into the 
 adjoining room, where, in the early morning, she 
 passed away. 
 
 Lady Victoria was at the seaside with a sister, who 
 had gone there for convalescence after an illness. 
 Other members of the family were absent, but they 
 gathered quickly, and were with the Duke through 
 the sad home-coming to Rosneath. Her own records 
 of this time were as brief as the impressions were 
 abiding. She returned to London, and in a letter 
 written to a sister, absent in Edinburgh, she says : — 
 
 I would rather have been there, pain and all, 
 but we were saved a great deal, and she was totally 
 unconscious. I feel every now and then as if it 
 must be a dream, but it is a terrible reaUty. One 
 longs that the last part of her hfe should not have 
 had so much pain, but we must try to leave it 
 all with God. Miss Marsh came to-day, and she 
 said in her prayer with me this sorrow, which an 
 earthly father would have spared us, if he could, 
 the Heavenly Father must have sent in love to all. 
 Our first object must be our father. All future 
 plans must be more or less uncertain ; but, for the
 
 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 113 
 
 present, we are to go to Helensburgh, where I 
 suppose you will join us with Knowles. Next day 
 we go on to Rosneath, and the following day we 
 girls go, as well, as everyone else, to Kilniun. They 
 move her to Westminster Abbey to-morrow, there to 
 He until she is taken north. The brothers go with her. 
 Mr. Maclagan is coming to have prayers with us 
 to-night. 
 
 In her diary she writes : — 
 
 Was awoke at 7.30 by two telegrams telling me 
 Mama had gone. Came up with C. and saw Papa, 
 and then went to see her. There prayed, with 
 God's help, to do what I could, specially for httle C. 
 
 June \st. 
 
 One whirl of seeing people and arranging things. 
 B. Coventry done me much good. Feel how terribly 
 often I have failed. But He can and will forgive. 
 So much cause for intense thankfuhiess. 
 
 June 5tJi. 
 
 Day of the funeral. Beautiful service in hbrary 
 by Dr. Story. The boys of the "Cumberland" 
 played the Dead March as we moved off. The 
 sight of the hills broke me do\vn. 
 
 June 6th. 
 
 Everybody, except Dr. MacGregor, went away. 
 Percy remains with us. The days pass as in a 
 dream.
 
 114 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 
 
 The Duke went for a yachting cruise during 
 July. Tlie sight of the " Cokiniba," with its many 
 memories, was a trial to all ; but to launch out 
 into the deep, and to be again with what he describes 
 as " the perennial fountain of refreshment," the 
 world of Nature, was the best thing for the one 
 who was the special care of his children. 
 
 July Gth. 
 
 Came to lona. Thinking so much of last year. 
 Week of facing anew the great sorrow, but able, 
 as it were, to sit imder the shadow of it. 
 
 July lih. BuxESSAN. 
 
 Mary and I landed to go to church. Were joined 
 by Papa and brothers. Thinking of Dr. Mac- 
 Gregor's sermon last year. 
 
 July Sth. 
 
 Started for lona. Saw StaiTa on the way. At 
 one went in boat to see white marble quarry. 
 Trawled. Afternoon went to Tiree. All landed 
 except me. Feel self-made Hue must be carried out. 
 
 July 9th. 
 
 Landed with Ian, and joined him at Chapels 
 in minister's gig. Quiet time there. 
 
 July lOth. 
 
 Landed with Libby, and went along sands and 
 reef with minister. Waited for Papa at Manse. 
 Came back to Bunessan in evening. Much roll.
 
 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 115 
 
 Juhj 24th. 
 
 Telegram from Ian anent going to Canada. 
 Dr. MacGregor came. On Sunday preached on 
 ** He that overcometh." 
 
 In October, 1878, the Duke took a villa at Cannes, 
 and with his daughters spent the winter on the 
 Riviara. There was a short stay in London. 
 
 Came to London, saw Dr. John Brown on 
 the way. He looked intensely sad, and feels the 
 change among us. Parish church. Took the 
 Comnmnion with Evey, F., and Mary. The new 
 vicar. What an oasis that church has been ! 
 Yet speaking as with a voice from the past. We 
 must press on. 
 
 Nov. 8th. 
 
 Lord Dufferin came to see us, recalling old 
 memories. Arrived at Cannes. The villa de- 
 lightful. Feel it to be an harbour of rest. Wish 
 it to be so. Grow in grace and in knowledge. 
 Many difficulties and failures there must be. Life 
 of entire consecration, forbearance, and love, over- 
 coming strife. 
 
 "O 
 
 The return to Cannes in her twenty-fourth year 
 marked the next decade since the crisis of her ill- 
 ness. The home hfe had called her, and she had 
 given herself to its absorbing claims. The death 
 of her mother had closed one chapter in her
 
 IIG "PASTORS AND MASTERS'' 
 
 life. She had seen the ishinds of hor future love. 
 As she drove to the ancient chapels in Tiree, she 
 little thought of the home that was to be built 
 beside them for her life's work, and when she drove 
 along " the reef '' there was no vision of the many 
 journeys across its sandy road it was to be her 
 lot to make. She had only seen the promised land, 
 and for a time other cares and thoughts were to 
 engross her life. Courage she ever possessed, but she 
 was always anxious and troubled, and needed the 
 words sent her by the minister of Rosneath on the 
 eve of the New Year. 
 
 Xmas, 1878. 
 
 The passing of the old year must have been full 
 of trying associations, which gather and do not 
 diminish as time advances. * We are saved by 
 Hope," and, as what lies behind us darkens, 
 the horizon of the future should expand and 
 brighten. 
 
 She had begun the year, fraught with so many 
 changes, by recording the words of promise; in the 
 close of that time, she drew up, for her own guidance, 
 the days and subjects for her own intercessory 
 prayers. 
 
 Sundays. 1878. 
 
 For members of my imion and clergy in par- 
 ticular. A deeper realisation of that rest in Christ, 
 which He has promised.
 
 "PASTORS AND MASTERS" 117 
 
 Mondays. 
 
 For special grace and strength in meeting the 
 duties and trials of another week. To let some 
 ** chime," heard on Sunday, echo on throughout 
 the week. 
 
 Tuesdays, 
 
 The Infirmary day hi London. For my ward m 
 particular, and for all sick and weary ones. For 
 grace and wisdom for myself. 
 
 Wednesdays. 
 
 Special pleadhigs for those near and dear to 
 me. 
 
 Thursdays. 
 
 Our C.C. meeting. A blessing to follow on it, 
 and on the place and ministers. 
 
 Fridays. 
 
 For anyone or any cause brought specially 
 before me in an exceptional way. 
 
 Saturdays. 
 
 Remember the past week. Self-examination. 
 Ask for blessmg and refreshment on the morrow. 
 Expect an answer. 
 
 Later. Saturday is to be for God's ancient 
 people too.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN '* 
 
 " I c.innot rest hy day or night 
 Till all iiK-n'ri biirdeiis have grown light, 
 Till ruund my neck their sinn arc hung, 
 Till their dull sorrows loose my tongue. 
 
 I will not reat hy night or day 
 Till I li.ive Hung my life away, 
 In every stream, that whoso will 
 With sympathy his cruse may fill.'' 
 
 To Lady Victoria the return to Cannes, after an in- 
 terval fraught with so much growth in her own hfc, 
 and which had brought such changes in the circle of 
 her home, made a great landmark in the highway of 
 her hfe. 
 
 Cannes, to her, had many associations with the 
 past. To others of the family it was their first 
 experience of a foreign country, and the first intro- 
 duction to scenery out of their native land. However 
 determined they were to cherish their national 
 prejudices, and to leave their hearts in the high- 
 hinds, they could not altogether escape a conviction 
 that simny France had a different order of merit 
 from their misty west. The Villa Isola Bella was 
 worthy of its name, built on one of the terraced 
 heights of the hills that surround Cannes, and sheltered 
 
 118
 
 "ONE, TkE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN" 119 
 
 from the keen mistral winds. Its garden, set with 
 ohves, mimosa, and arbutus, sloped steeply towards 
 the sea. The stucco pillars that supported the 
 portico of the house were twined and clustered with 
 Gloire de Dijon roses, and they framed the outlook 
 from the windows over the Mediterranean Sea and 
 away to the Esterel hills, whose outUnes had become 
 familiar and dear to Lady Victoria during her first 
 visit 'to Cannes. 
 
 The Villa Poralto, which had been purchased by 
 Sir John and Lady Ennna after their marriage, was 
 close to the gates of the Isola Bella, and the near 
 neighbourhood for the winter of the McNeills made it 
 more like home for all the large party. 
 
 In the late autunm Lord Lome had gone to Canada 
 to take up his duties as Governor-General. His 
 departure, so soon after his own great bereavement, 
 had been severely felt by the Duke, and as many of 
 the family as were able came out to stay with him at 
 Cannes. There were also other interests, and more 
 changes were at hand in the circle of the sisterhood. 
 
 Lord George's future wife was staying with her 
 parents in Cannes, and the addition of Eustace 
 Balfour to the party filled Lady Victoria's mind 
 with new thoughts and concern for these *' home 
 pohtics." 
 
 There were various causes for anxiety. The Duke 
 had a severe attack of gout, and other matters, com- 
 bined with Lady Victoria's usual habit of trying 
 to bear everybody's burden besides her o\vn, midid 
 the beneficial eliects of her first month on the Riviera.
 
 120 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 
 
 The change and refreshment of the brighter climate 
 had done her much good, but she needed a more 
 complete rest from the past strain, and more quiet 
 than was possible under the circumstances; and she 
 was completely laid aside by a severe nervous break- 
 down, entailing nmch acute sufTering, and fur many 
 weeks she was seriously ill. 
 
 As was so often the case, she was happy in her 
 medical friend. Dr. Franck's name had become well 
 known for his services during the Franco-Prussian 
 War. He was the princi[)al, and most widely beloved 
 physician in Cannes, and his marriage with Lady 
 Agnes Grosvenor had connected him with a wide 
 circle of family and friends. 
 
 Ill as she was. Lady Victoria's room was, as always, 
 the meeting-place of the household Ufe. Her father 
 was constantly with her, consulting her on all the 
 many " affaires " which were in progress, and reading 
 to her in the days when she was too ill for conver- 
 sation. 
 
 As soon as she was better, she began to find outside 
 work for herself. There were many invalids, and 
 an " Asile " for those in poorer circumstances gave 
 scope for all her ever-Uving s}'mpathy towards 
 such as had fallen by the wayside. 
 
 Some pages from a diary she began at this time 
 show her thoughts during these months and subse- 
 quent years. 
 
 First day at Cannes. Sunday, Nov. 20th, 1878. 
 This oHve branch (pasted into diary) brought
 
 "ONE, TlIE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN" 121 
 
 home in remembrance of my first time in the Isola 
 Bella garden, where 1 have had a very happy 
 time, feeling that God will bless to me the return 
 here, and having looked back over these past 
 eight years and a half through which, however dark 
 and w^ary much of it was, I kni)W my heart's 
 prayer when last here, to be more with, and to know 
 more of, my mother, has been granted. I was 
 allowed to be of some use, and, I think, comfort 
 to her. 
 
 Strange, too, to look back upon my determina- 
 tion not to spend a winter away while she was 
 with us. The ohve brings back to me her intense 
 luve for the trees. Reminding her, I believe, of 
 Gethsemane,' and the Peace which our Saviour 
 through His agony brought to us, if we bring to 
 Him our heavy load of sin and sorrow. This is the 
 only rest ! On looking back, every step of the way 
 is marked by failures, sins, rebelhngs, and mur- 
 murings of heart. It seems almost strangely 
 appropriate that one of the Psalms for this morn- 
 ing is the LI., 17 : ** The sacrifices of God are a 
 broken spiiit." Then the call my 'Daily Light'* 
 has given me to-day is from Rom. xii. 1. 
 
 Perhaps this time at Cannes is a call to rest 
 awhile, but not in slothfulness. The leisure to be 
 employed for God. A time of growing in grace, 
 and in the knowledge of God. 
 
 The last injunction, as their Pastor, our Bishop 
 (Dr. Maclagan) gave to his people, the last thing he 
 sent us away with, was that call so oft repeated.
 
 122 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 
 
 to fiiid our rest from the burden of sin, from the 
 weariness of the way, from the desohition of 
 bereavement, in God the Father. 
 
 Dec. SOth, 1878. 
 
 Only one more day in this sad year, but mider- 
 neath it all are there not deep undertones of thank- 
 fulness ? Have we not learnt to join in the thanks- 
 j^iving for those who have departed this hfe in 
 His faith and fear ? 
 
 A fuller consciousness of how the only peace in 
 this world must be in having a mind at perfect 
 peace with God. 
 
 This year closes leaving me with deep thankful- 
 ness. My dear F. is towed into harbour by one 
 who, I believe, will be a good and tender husband 
 to her. Little C. has fallen in a pecuhar way her 
 sisters' charge and responsibihty. 
 
 Dec. 3\st. 
 
 Ross has been playing the pipes in the garden. 
 " The Land of the Leal ' wakening up the echoes 
 of Inveraray, and the last chapter of Rosneath 
 hfe associated with Kingie ; then he played the 
 last night at Inveraray, and now at Cannes. 
 
 So closes the record of this last chapter of days 
 that had been, and were no more. 
 
 The family hfe was broken at its centre. The Castle 
 burnt, its hall a ruin, roofless and deserted. The old 
 year vigil kept under a southern sky, with the
 
 "ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN" 123 
 
 piper calling the coronach among the ohves of the 
 Riviera. 
 
 Changes and chances hovering over the sister- 
 hood, and an nnknown future before them all. 
 Well might her minister, remembering them and 
 writing from '* the Point of the Sanctuary," remind 
 her that " we are saved by Hope." 
 
 * 
 
 Violets brought home to me by my father the 
 first Sunday in 1879. In bed until evening with 
 bad chest cold, on the top of my neuralgic illness. 
 Cohn read to me the viii. Romans and the vi. of 
 St. John. Thinking much of Mrs. Hall's note 
 received this week, on trustfulness in our Heavenly 
 Father. Casting on Him the many cares which 
 would press. Might not these flowers, emblems 
 of humihty, lowhness, and the care taken of them 
 who take no thought for themselves, be an echo of 
 this lesson, and one, surely, with which to begin 
 this new year ? 
 
 I feel thankful for this time of retirement, and 
 I feel how I have failed in pondering these things, 
 and thus making them more my own, and seeing 
 how grievously I have failed in not commit- 
 ting all to Him. Long to seek more earnestly 
 to abide under the shadow of His wings. To go 
 or come, to work, wait, or suffer, according as His 
 will may be. 
 
 Have sometimes ahnost longed to die, but I 
 know this has been more from weariness of body 
 and of spirit than aught else. Not in the spirit of
 
 4 
 
 124 "ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN'' 
 
 absolute surrender to what He sees best. He has 
 given me work to do, I know it, if I only can 
 sufficiently lean on His promise of perfecting 
 His strength in our weakness. 
 
 In the evening watched the moonhght and stars 
 coming over the hill covered with stone pines, 
 and thought of that verse : — 
 
 " Come to me in the evening shade, 
 And if my licart from Thee lias strayed, 
 Oh, bring it l>ack, and from afar 
 Shine on me like the evening star." 
 
 This begins the week of Prayer, bringing with 
 it the message that though debarred from the 
 pubhc services, " Praise and Prayer may, and ought, 
 to ascend from my heart." 
 
 Aipril I3th. Easter Sunday. 1879. 
 
 If all goes well, and as we expect this is our last 
 Sunday at Cannes, I have been looking at my entry 
 on our fii'st Smiday, and I feel and know, however 
 guilty of misusing and neglecting I have been, it 
 has been a time fraught with lessons and mercies 
 for me. Not such a time of leisure as I then thought. 
 During the weeks of my neuralgic illness I seemed 
 to see clearer than ever before the uselessness of 
 any work or activity except in the spirit of Christ. 
 The wilUngness to serve or to wait ought to be 
 the attitude of our minds. Take more quiet time, 
 when possible, to meditate on the things of 
 God.
 
 "ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN" 125 
 
 I never realised before how time may pass 
 without the help of reading or writing. Doing 
 either to any purpose was out of the question for 
 months. Dr. Hanna's vivid realisation that above 
 and through all the perplexities and mysteries 
 God's Love shines, has helped me greatly. 
 
 Eustace's music spoke to me at this time more 
 than any other. And this being settled for dear 
 F. is a great matter for thankfulness. 
 
 After that I passed through a time of physical 
 and spiritual (?) collapse, when I felt I could not 
 bear the thought of taking up the burden of hfe 
 again, and shrank from its jars. 
 
 I have sometimes thought this was one reason 
 why the work with Frances Jarvis was given me 
 to do. A little while ago I saw her and told her 
 I beheved her illness to be hopeless. Since then, 
 surely, in her message of love to me, and sapng she 
 was reading her Testament, there is a glimmer of 
 that day-star for which so many are longing and 
 waiting, and which is surely commg. These days 
 have taught me more than volumes of theology, 
 how we must learn of Christ and sit at His feet, 
 if we would be His children. How vain it is by 
 intellect to try and find out God ! How needful 
 it is in a time Hke this to keep very near to God ! 
 To be clothed with himiility, and seek to speak His 
 w^ords ; when the door is shut, to remember it 
 will be opened when the time comes. 
 
 I felt the Revelation of Jesus Christ to be 
 irresistibly true, as I watched the vain struggle
 
 120 ''ONE, THE MARrn IX OOD BEGUN" 
 
 for peace or happiness witlioiit it. I low talent 
 and perception of the Beautiful completely failed. 
 Also, how entirely alone each soul must strive to 
 be with God. 8he said, almost scornfully, she could 
 not believe Baptism could give it ; I echoed the 
 same. Those words had renewed meaning to me, 
 " The wind bloweth where it listeth." 1 felt, 
 in those first weeks of knowing her, such an 
 earnest tnith-seeking spirit must find its rest in 
 Tliin. During the last fortnight of her life, faith 
 and hope seemed to fail. I felt I must know she 
 had it ere I could ever again hope for peace. What 
 gratitude ought to be mine, as I think the know- 
 ledge of that last night might have been denied 
 me. She really turned to Him as her " Mediator 
 and Redeemer," and pleaded His own promise, 
 " Where two or three are gathered together," 
 with her conclusion, "Now lie must hear us, 
 because it is His own Word." 
 
 I had seen her four days before, and saw and fell 
 what a difl'erent expression was in her large blue 
 eyes, as she afTectionately and, as I thought, 
 gratefully looked at me. I felt I also had confessed 
 Christ more than I had ever done, urged on by 
 the feeling I had not spoken of Him as early or as 
 fully as I might. Now there is the poor mother, 
 who wishes to remain on at Cannes. 
 
 Now, before the clock strikes midnight, I must 
 stop. It seems a strange coincidence that in my 
 Daily Light this morning, and from what our 
 Bishop in St. Paul's has sent to the other sisters,
 
 "ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN" 127 
 
 there conies the old, yet ever lunv and necessary 
 call, to yield ourselves body, soul, and spirit to God. 
 May He grant to nie more faith, deeper, intense r 
 love, and more knowledge. And now Mary and 1 
 have been saying we must look forward to our new, 
 unknown life amidst the old haunts and familiar 
 
 scenes." 
 
 '• I know not the way I am goinfj, 
 But well do I know my g\iiilo ; 
 "With a chiKUike trust, I give my liancl 
 To the niiglity Frii'iul Ity my side. 
 The only thing I say to llim 
 As He takes it is : ' Hold it fast ' ; 
 Sull'er me not to lose my way, 
 And bring me Home at last." 
 
 •o 
 
 The friendship with Frances Jarvis and her mother 
 was on(^ of the first things to call into expression the 
 missionary spirit, which was to be the key-note of 
 her future life. They were, like herself, strangers 
 in a strange land, and there is no record how she 
 f)ocame acquainted with their lives. Frances had 
 probably come in search of health, and Lady Victoria 
 may have found her at the " Asile." The character 
 and education of the young gii'l struck her intensely, 
 and it was her fii'st contact with the agnostic tone 
 in the region of spiritual beUef. 
 
 Her own experiences were such as to make her an 
 ardent believer in the profession of the behef iii a 
 living Saviour, and she had the note of the true 
 missionary, a hunger for the souls of mankind. 
 
 Her natural bent was for the far mission fields of 
 the Church, and her wistful gaze w^as often turned
 
 128 " ONE, TTIE MARCTI TN GOD BEGUN " 
 
 in that direction. Her own desire to render personal 
 service was beliiud all her deep and lifelong interest 
 in foreign missions, and she never understood reluc- 
 tance on the part of those who seemed fitted for that 
 particular task in the vineyard, in not coining 
 forward. 
 
 When her diaries record " rebellions and storms " 
 in her inner life, it was mostly when she felt her 
 bodily conditions limited the scope of her service. 
 She was a born traveller ; at one time she thoufi^ht 
 it right to contemplate going out to India with her 
 brother. \Micn her father allowed her to consider 
 the schenu' a possible one, she writes : "It was not 
 all self-denial. I have a passion for seeing new 
 countries, and have long had a dream of Zenana 
 work. 
 
 She was a fearless traveller, and would have gone 
 through discomforts in foreign lands, as hardily as 
 she encountered the discomforts of crossing her native 
 seas. There was no greater rest to her than to feel 
 that " duty " led her to go abroad. She prepared 
 for a winter in Rome or Geneva, or a journey to see 
 an old friend in Brussels, and she went off to survey 
 Kaiserwerth and its deaconesses with much less fuss 
 than many people make in a journey from London to 
 Edinburgh. 
 
 ^\^len the news of Lord CoUn's illness came, she 
 writes of that event : — 
 
 As I was preparing to go to him, the telegram 
 to say all was over arrived.
 
 "ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN" 129 
 
 In October I was with the Macinillans at Green- 
 ock. He put me on board the boat for lona. A 
 week there, another at Biinessan, then here, to 
 prove, as I beUeved, whether these islands, or 
 farther afield, was to be, in future, my sphere. 
 
 During this last week I had such a strong letter 
 from Dr. Dykes, as to the former. It makes me 
 wonder whether it is a " message." 
 
 m 
 
 Probably it was in the same year that Dr. Charteris, 
 who had long known of this desire, writes to her in 
 an undated letter. 
 
 Don't you think you should be made a deacon- 
 ess, and get a Church commission, the Church of 
 Scotland Deputy to the western portions of Scot- 
 land I That is my humble contribution for your 
 consideration. You could be ordained in St. Giles 
 or St. Cuthbert's, or anywhere you preferred, when 
 here at Easter, of which you spoke. 
 
 And, again, in a year when he knew her back at 
 the work she had made so pecuHarly her own, he 
 writes, in cheer : — 
 
 I had your short note, the shortest on record, 
 yesterday. I think you are in low spirits, so 
 I am writing this wee " sursum corda." You are 
 probably working above your strength. Please 
 remember that when we give what we have, 
 the Lord makes it enough. He did not bid His
 
 130 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 
 
 disciples bake more loaves : would not even let 
 thcni go to the viliagos for more. It is the blessing, 
 not the amount of work, that tells. I always 
 think the sower might have saved the seed that he 
 wasted on the wayside and the shallow ground. 
 He was in too big a hurry. I have always been 
 a waster, so am now serving as a beacon to you, 
 dear Highland maid. How fme and dear your 
 father's salutation, " My wee seagull ! " 
 
 Dr. Charteris again recurs to the hope of having 
 her as a deaconess. " Have you any thoughts of 
 going to that Conference ? It would be fine to have 
 you as deaconess, or in prospect as such." The 
 letter is annoted by Lady Victoria, " Only as guilds- 
 woman ! " She knew, in her inmost heart, that her 
 mission had been given to her, and that the double 
 consecration of which she speaks had bound her to 
 her father's people in the islands. 
 
 Year by year she had visited lona, and the brief 
 chronicle of the daily hfc tells of landings on the sacred 
 isle. " Walked to the cathedral, and sat long in it. 
 Walked to my mother's cross ; " or sometimes the word 
 is, '* The others landed ; I sat looking at the cathe- 
 dral." It was not the restored cathedral, for which 
 she gave thanks before the close of her Ufe. It was 
 in the roofless choir, beside a window in the south 
 transept looking to the East and across the Sound, 
 that she saw the vision clearly, that her hfe and its 
 gifts must be dedicated afresh to the loving service 
 of " our people."
 
 "ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN'' 131 
 
 It was probably about 1882 that she felt, within 
 the sanctuary, this sudden light on her future life. 
 ** I remember her teUing me," says Dr. Fleming in 
 his memorial service, " how, long years ago, 
 she was looking out of the ruined windows of 
 lona (.athedral, and it was there and then that 
 the call came to her to dedicate her life to the 
 islands." 
 
 There have been few vows made in that holy 
 fane which were more faithfully kept in the spii-it 
 and in the letter, and when she was free to follow 
 ** the call," she obeyed in the same spirit that brought 
 the saint of old to that spot which she said was 
 the most sacred on earth, " next to the Holy 
 City." 
 
 The year 1879 contains two more entries in her 
 book of meditations. Her life was too active to 
 permit of more than two or three lines of a compressed 
 notice of the daily round, but at longer intervals 
 she wrote her garnered thoughts for the time that was 
 passing. 
 
 Sunday, April 20th, 1879. 
 
 First Sunday in London this year. Bells chiming 
 — what memories they recall ! How difficult to 
 take m that the mother, the centre round whom, 
 this time last year, hfe revolved, is no more, and we 
 can only serve her in carrymg on work and Hfe 
 as she would have wished. I am laid up again, 
 but these sofa-days ought to be very good for me 
 in many ways.
 
 132 '' ONE, TKE IMAECH IN GOD BEGUN " 
 
 May 8fh, 1879. 
 
 G.'s wedding-day. I cannot be there, owing to 
 a heavy chest cold. It is a i]isa})i)ointnient, but 
 willi me there are always two sides of the question 
 on these pubhc occasions ; and I know, if I use the 
 time rightly, my spirit will be cooler and calmer 
 for doing what it ought to do for him and his bride 
 in such an hour — join in the censer of intercession ; 
 and surely such prayers must prevail. I have found 
 it hard lately to rise — hfe seems sometimes a dead 
 level, and I am afraid has done so dreadfully to me 
 of late. It seems so strange to-day not to hear 
 her fervent " God bless you ! " 
 
 This is the fourth wedding in the family from 
 which I have been absent. I sometimes feel as if 
 "the cloistered cell" has providentially been meant 
 for me. I think and hope this quiet hour will be 
 one of the milestones on my Ufe's path. I do love 
 these Holland Park trees, bursting into green, and, 
 as I look at them this evening, with a peaceful, 
 grey-blue sky, and think of all that has happened 
 since this time last year, it seems as if it must be 
 a dream. 
 
 Reading this week the " Holy Life " has again 
 echoed to me the key-note, " Harmony of our will 
 and His will." 
 
 During the years after her mother's death, Lord 
 Shaftesbury became more than ever a comfort in 
 the Ufe of Lady Victoria. He was devoted, from her 
 earUest childhood, to the Duchess, and had always
 
 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 133 
 
 been on intimate terms with the whole family. His 
 youngest son was the godchild of his old friend, and, 
 in writing to Lady Victoria, he says, " You are as 
 dear to me as one of my own children/' 
 
 To more than one she spoke of the influence his 
 character and mind had had on her young hfe, and 
 when he died she wrote to Mrs. Campbell, Ach- 
 nashie : — 
 
 The death of Lord Shaftesbury is a dreadful one 
 to me, for, besides the old, much-loved associations, 
 he has been so much to me individually since my 
 mother died, and many a time has he recalled, 
 by his hfe as w^ell as by his voice, her lofty ideas 
 of love and duty ; but I do thank God for what He 
 gave him to be to us, as to so many, and I know, 
 if ever there was an occasion when we ought to 
 join in that thanksgiving, it is in this, for his day's 
 work was done. 
 
 Sunday, Nov. 2nd, 1879. Inveraray. 
 
 For the fii"st time this year I feel I can count 
 on being alone with the thoughts and memories, 
 and these last seem just now wellnigh to overwhelm 
 me. The now almost leafless trees. The group 
 of firs and my " anniversary hill." The heavy 
 clouds, with ever and anon bursts of sunshine. 
 How it brings back to me those Sunday afternoons 
 spent between my mother and dear old Kingie. 
 This afternoon the longing to hear her voice once 
 more has come over me, but I think God is teaching
 
 131 "ONE, THE xMARCII IN GOD BEGUN" 
 
 me to sympixtbise in thuir joy, for they are with 
 Him ; and as the hfe of communion with Him 
 goes on, and deepens, one feels that love which was 
 lavished on us, and which now one feels at times 
 as if one had no longer, is yet met in Him, who is 
 daily pouring it out in larger, fuller measure. 
 
 I have had such an echo of Cannes this morning, 
 reading dear Dr. Hanna's " Measureless Love of 
 Christ." I heard it first in that httle chapel, and 
 his teaching on the Atonement opened my eyes to 
 so much. I do feel very thankful for that friend- 
 ship. 
 
 To-morrow Mrs. Grant, our Biblewoman, comes. 
 I hope God will prosper it. Sometimes I have felt 
 almost too happy to take it in, when I have thought 
 I have had the privilege of helping this. My father 
 has been so good about it, and so begins another 
 chapter. 
 
 Dec. 14///. Sunday cvoiing. 1879. 
 
 This has been a ceaseless wet day, and I have had 
 a sense of oppression, mentally and, I fear, spiritu- 
 ally. I have been thinking that perhaps there is 
 too little of that intercommunion of thought and 
 speech which ought to be between those who wish 
 to love and serve Him ; and how far too apt one 
 is rather to discuss plans and worries, and take 
 thought for the morrow ; and yet, over and over 
 again, we have been taught how vain this is, and 
 how we may trust Him with that Future, which, 
 indeed, at times presses on one with its own
 
 " ONE, THE MAliClI IN COD BEGUN " 135 
 
 punislinicnt, namely, with a sense of intolerable 
 weight. I have been looking over the diary of 
 this time last year, and how I ought to be filled 
 with gratitude when I see how doubtful I was then 
 whether I was to be raised up from that time of 
 weakness and illness ! 
 
 Bee. 28lJi. Last Sunday in 1879. 
 
 * I got to church this morning. We were all there 
 except F. Mr. .McKichan preached on the miracle 
 of turnhig water into wine. 
 
 This evening the wind is shrieldng and liowhng 
 and whistling. It seems to make every chord in 
 one's being vibrate. I have been looking again at 
 my landmark group of trees, and have been thinking 
 much of the Past. The two who formed the 
 Sunday afternoon care and watch have passed 
 beyond the shadows. To-day has been more taken 
 up than 1 like with planning and cares for the 
 Future, llow many causes have I for thankfuhiess 
 this past year ? My dear F. safe and happy in her 
 eailhly life. Growing satisfaction and pleasure 
 in httle C. I have seen some work set gomg in 
 the dear old place — clothing club and mothers' 
 meeting every Thursday. Mrs. Grant much hked, but 
 I know not yet whether she will continue with us. 
 
 The work set agoing " in the dear old place " was 
 to grow^ and increase, and be the training ground 
 for herself for the same class of work, begun under 
 more difficult circumstances in the distant islands.
 
 13G "ONE, THE jMARCH IN GOD BEGUN'' 
 
 At Inveraray the town was the focus of her classes, 
 and she had the approval and assistance of all her old 
 friends, the ministers of the town. 
 
 She started, first of all, the mothers' meeting and 
 the clothing club. Her great aim was to draw all 
 those capable of helping her into the work of organi- 
 sation, and of influencing the women of the place. 
 She had a strong feeling that the work ought 
 not to depend solely upon her own presence. Her 
 absences were necessarily frequent, and life, she 
 said, was always uncertain. " Fellow-workers " she 
 claimed everywhere ; some she found only eager 
 for " a lead," and others she trained, who are still 
 at work in the corner of the vineyard she pointed 
 out to them as their own. 
 
 No one who came under her system led idle hves. 
 She never spared herself, and she never supposed 
 anyone wished to be spared. Fitfully she remembered 
 the frailty of poor human nature, and when she 
 remembered she was full of consideration. Any 
 " do-less-ness," or inertia, born of the western 
 temperament, met with short shrift fi'om her. 
 
 By nature she had a temperament of nervous 
 impatience. The check on her naturally vivacious 
 energies caused by her disabilities was a constant 
 source of irritation, and to have slow helpers around 
 her tried her in a manner some found it hard to 
 understand. 
 
 Near the end of her Hfe, one who was with her 
 made a jest on the patience she had shown mider a 
 small, but irritating trial. Her answer was in a
 
 "ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN '^ 137 
 
 serious tone, " I have learnt to be more patient/' 
 Only those who knew her well understood the signs 
 that she was mastering the inclination towards 
 impatience, with a daily watchfulness, which was 
 seldom broken down. Those who worked with and 
 for her had always the reward of her complete con- 
 fidence, and she could touch no hves without trpng 
 to know their real inwardness, and to feel she had 
 ministered in any way to their need was her greatest 
 pleasure. To be associated with her works was to 
 live in an atmosphere of cheerful energy. She never 
 missed seeing the humours of a situation, and she 
 loved to share the fun with all those who " knew the 
 ropes." In every complication she was glad if she 
 could get those " in the scrape " to see the laughable 
 side, and she nearly always could discover one. 
 It was easy to embarrass her by a whispered word 
 on the humours of the crisis, and her agonised 
 " don't " was the prelude to an uncontrollable 
 attack of laughter, which she would struggle in vain 
 to hide. " The sense of the ludicrous has saved us 
 many a time," she would truly say, and it was a special 
 gift given to help her spirit, apt to be careful and 
 troubled over the perplexities and turmoils of hfe. 
 
 The young loved her society as much as the old. 
 The same alert sympathy which made her room, 
 or the couch on which she lay, the central thought 
 of all those who had news to give, or a trouble to 
 unfold, or a good family joke to reveal, made her 
 presence a welcome one in the midst of her meetings 
 and classes, and among that band of women who,
 
 138 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 
 
 in many places, and under difl'ering circumstances, 
 were her friends and fellow-workers. 
 
 Jan. 4th, 1880. Inveraray. 
 
 ]\Iy fii'st Sunday this year spent away from 
 church owing to a threatening return of cold. I felt 
 I must take care, in view of being this week alone 
 with my father, Libby, and Conny. Especially 
 here, my Sundays spent in solitude seem to rest 
 me more, and I think Divine things have appeared 
 very real and present to me this morning. Particu- 
 larly the thought of how emphatically it is said, 
 " Good news, good will towards all men. All 
 flesh shall see the salvation of God." Surely 
 enough to make us feel that whatever mystery 
 and perplexity with which we are brought in 
 contact we may trust God with it. He cannot 
 mock us by holding out the cup and then with- 
 drawing it. 
 
 I have been cheered at this opening of a new 
 year by Mrs. Grant telling me she means to stay 
 here for a year, at any rate. This seems to point 
 to the work having a definite footing, which so far 
 has begun well ; but there are many things which 
 call one to the necessity of having the single eye 
 as the one thing. " This one thing I do." One thing 
 is desired of the Lord. One thing is needful. 
 
 Inveraray. 1880. 
 
 To-day, with Mrs. Carmichael, ]\Irs. Macdonald, 
 and Mi's. Grant, I began our first meeting at
 
 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 139 
 
 Kenniore. They wanted to join in January, but 
 I did not think it right with all the " Housework '' 
 to pledge myself away for another day. Now, 
 as Archie and Conny generally ride there is no 
 obstacle, and I think we had better have it fort- 
 nightly. 
 
 Kojiniore is a crofting district lying some five 
 niiles down Loch Fyne. It was prosperous at the 
 time Lady Victoria began her meetings in it ; to-day 
 it is true that — 
 
 " The little crofts arc falling, 
 And fields arc lying l)are, 
 And curlews calling, calling 
 As the only creatures there, . . . 
 The lads that lived in Kenmore 
 Are long ago at rest." 
 
 Sunday, March \Uh, 1880. 
 
 This last week has brought us news of the disso- 
 lution of Parhament, and one wonders what will 
 be the result. This winter to me has gone Hke a 
 dream, and I cannot reaUse this is March. I am 
 leaving with a deep sense of thankfulness to God 
 for having permitted me to work a httle for Him 
 here. My father has wTitten so kindly about it. 
 The soup-kitchen these last weeks has been a 
 great pleasure. I have felt something of the truth 
 how one is helped if one seeks it in prayer. 
 
 Have felt that text, " My Presence shall go with 
 thee, and I will give thee rest," has been a stay 
 to me to-day, when feeling a sense of burden and
 
 140 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 
 
 shrinking from the London hfe in spite of its many 
 church privileges. 
 
 The Deanery, Chester. Easter Eve, 1880. 
 
 Here it is next to impossible to get a quiet hour, 
 Mrs. Howson, the Dean, or the girls coming in to 
 talk. It is a pleasant and a resting httle episode. 
 
 This afternoon I went into the cathedral and 
 heard the chiming bells ; it seemed hke " the King's 
 arbour," and the nmsic is an intense dchght, but, 
 as I had the cheek to tell the Dean, more and more 
 do I feel I could not live in it entirely.. I think you 
 loiow how bitterly I feel the lonehness in these 
 things at Inveraray. It does teach one its own 
 lessons, which to me at least would have been 
 harder to learn while in the midst of every external 
 help. I thmk it has saved me from the temptation 
 of resting in an)i:hing of the kind. I hked so much 
 what you said in your last letter because it is so 
 true. He does reveal Himself when we are feehng 
 the lowest, the most needy, and then we experience 
 the spiritual teaching of all these days which I love, 
 and which are a help to me ; and I have so much 
 in this deeper irmer self to rejoice and give praise 
 for to-morrow. I hope to be at His Table, and there 
 have Communion in Him, with her with whom all 
 these days are so associated. 
 
 July llth, 1880. Aegyll Lodge. 
 
 This is my foiuth Sunday away from church. 
 Once more it seems to me as if I had been near the
 
 "ONE, THE MAKCH IN GOD BEGUN" 141 
 
 Borderland. Once more recognised how infinitely 
 loving and tender the Good Shepherd is, and how 
 He does uphold when all else fails. Now it seems as 
 if I was coming back to life, and to begm a 
 new chapter. " He hath spoken in the darkness.'* 
 Surely I may leave with Him the burden of the 
 Present as well as the Future. Sometimes I have 
 shrunk back, feeling so unfit ; but may not one 
 lesson have been to bring home once more the 
 truth, " My grace is sufficient for thee." Oh, that 
 one could learn more fully to abide in Him, the 
 hving and true Vine ! 
 
 Oct. 6th, 1880. 
 
 We have been nine together lately. 
 
 >S^. Leonards-on-Sea. Dec. 3lst, 1880. 
 
 I sit down to write a few notes for my recollection 
 of this strange, lonely time. Some feehng of rest 
 and peace has come to me to-night after a week 
 of special hurry and anxiety, causing me, alas, 
 to feel the weakness of my own resolutions by the 
 frequent failure of patience. 
 
 I have been struck by E.'s wish for me m this 
 new year. So true, so loiowing, and deeply tender 
 in laiowing what wdll be really best for me. "I 
 wish you all He sees you will need of happiness 
 and strength for His glory in the coming year." 
 Now and then, amid the dense darkness, that 
 thought of God's will being summed up in that He 
 wishes, nay, longs for our sanctification, ought
 
 142 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 
 
 surely to breathe a deep calm into my wearied, 
 anxious self, but it has seemed as if " All His waves 
 and billows have gone over me." God grant my 
 first and most fervent prayer to-night may be 
 that in this time next year, if I am here, I may 
 reflect more of His image than I have done in the 
 past. 
 
 Jan. Ist, 1881. 
 
 I must write a few lines this first evening of the 
 new year, on which I have felt as if God has given 
 me new faith and patience. May He grant that it 
 may last. He has showered upon me tokens of 
 His love, shown in the love of those most dear to 
 me. Such loving letters and cards from the sisters, 
 telling me of the different entertainments. How 
 I have longed to be with them ! Thank God, none 
 of these thoughts disturbed my vigil last night. 
 I felt as if He were giving me the spirit of grace and 
 supplication, and the Word which seemed to me 
 was, " This one thing I do " — if the one thing be 
 in reality and truth our one and sole aim, then 
 everything will become straight. 
 
 How nuich more I ought to five in inter- 
 cessory prayer and in meditation ! I longed for 
 some music. Some bells, but there was only one 
 to be heard, a sort of tolling sound. I liked to 
 think of the thousands who were meeting in His 
 name to see out the old and welcome the new 
 year in. 
 
 It was best for me to be alone ; such moments
 
 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 143 
 
 have the worth of years. Deeper, more fervent love 
 to Him will be one of my chief aims dming this 
 year into which we have entered. It was when the 
 disciples " feared as they entered into the cloud " 
 that they heard the voice of God telling them it was 
 His beloved Son, to whom they were to give heed. 
 Let us seek, in trying and dark hours, to hear what 
 He will have to say to us, even though He speaks 
 in the darkness. We may have to tell it out in the 
 Light. 
 
 Sunday, March 20th, 1881. Argyll Lodge. 
 
 It has been with a feeUng of surprise I sit down 
 to write a few lines in this fragmentary journal, 
 as I see the length of time which has elapsed since 
 my doing so. More than three months ! To- 
 morrow spring begins, and never before has it 
 awakened within me such a sense of the Resurrec- 
 tion hfe, after the long, cold, dark, and anxious 
 winter. 
 
 In January, after my return to London, I was 
 struck down with an attack much like the one I 
 had at Cannes, and for four or five weeks I led a 
 complete invalid Hfe. One night I wondered 
 whether it was to be my last. Accompanied with 
 a feeling of fear, which, in view of death, distressed 
 me ; for surely if we are trusting Him simply and 
 implicitly it will be robbed of its terrors. I think 
 a sense of the importance and supremacy of the 
 home life and its duties were given to me at this 
 time, and such a feeling of rest and gratitude
 
 144 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN '' 
 
 when the sisters returned from Scotland. The 
 separation from C. had been especially trying. 
 
 I came back to ordmary hfe Very slowly, and I 
 had much work to overtake. I was able to be at 
 the second of Dr. Saphir's Thursday lectures ; 
 they have, indeed, been a source of great delight— I 
 hope profit — for it is a " talent," surely, for which 
 I shall have to give an account. 
 
 I have, thank God, had a gUmpse into the 
 blessedness and peace of " casting the burden " 
 and going on steadily, and even joyously, with the 
 work of the day. The week which has just gone 
 has been a very bright one, as far as outside 
 pleasures go, beginning with a long visit and talk 
 with Dr. Saphir. I had an interesting and quiet 
 time at the Infirmary. I also have heard Mr. 
 Peploe with Ina Dent. Such strong, steady, 
 bright, shining faith. A " Greatheart " like Dr. 
 Dykes. 
 
 I have also met ^Ir. Meyer, the German Jew 
 missionary. He was intensely interesting, teUing 
 me of his own conversion. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF DEAN STANLEY 
 
 Argyll Lodge, Juhj 2oth, 1881. 
 My dearest F., 
 
 I must not turn in to-night without sharing 
 with you, in some measure at least, the events of 
 a day through which I thought of you and wished 
 you were with us. It was a most touching sight, 
 and in many ways, I am quite sure, it will stand out
 
 » 
 
 WIXDOW, SOITH TRAXSEPT, lOXA CATHEDRAL.
 
 * ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 145 
 
 as unique, however long one may live. And then 
 to us individually — exactly three years and two 
 months since we went there to worship together, 
 little thinking what our next service would be — 
 it all had its special associations. Evey, Mary, 
 and I started about the same time as Papa ; he 
 to the Jerusalem Chamber, while we went round to 
 pick up Sophy, and by sending at the Deanery door 
 for one of the Bailhe boys, and, farther on, by the 
 assistance of Algernon Stanley, we were admitted 
 at once to Henry VH's chapel, and there waited 
 three-quarters of an hour, hearing famtly, in the 
 distance, the organ and the smging. We had some 
 utter quiet for one's ain thochts, with perhaps a 
 greater yearning to know more of the Resurrection 
 power and Hfe than one had ever had. Shortly 
 before the procession filed in, some sunUght struck 
 upon the old banners ; it was very pretty. 
 
 The dear Uttle Dean ! One could with difficulty 
 take in that all that was left here of him was in 
 the small coffin, carried past, as he would have 
 wished, by men of different denominations. Dr. 
 Story looked very fine, then came the long train of 
 family mourners, servants included. First of all, 
 the choristers with the clergy, then the Prince of 
 Wales, and the representatives of the other members 
 of the Royal Family. Then the crowds and crowds 
 of men, of Cabinet Council and Parhament, dear 
 old Lord Shaftesbury very prominent. The Bishop 
 of Lichfield, Dean of Chester ; indeed, wherever 
 one looked some famihar face, bringing back such
 
 146 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 
 
 cliapters, greeted one. At the most unexpected 
 moment little Henry de Bmisen looked up and some- 
 how one knew that he was thinking of that last 
 funeral, when we were together away amongst the 
 hills. 
 
 A great Hfe has gone out of London, as well as 
 another hnk from that chain which binds one to 
 the Past. How little we reahsed this time three 
 and a half years ago what a complete uprooting 
 we were to undergo ! Papa looked very white and 
 ill ; I was glad when it was over for him. 
 
 Lord SaUsbury was close to Papa ; " keeping 
 him in order,'' I suppose ! 
 
 Your very affectionate, 
 
 Victoria Campbell. 
 
 Feb. \2tli, 1882. Inveraray. 
 
 These two snowdi'ops were picked to-day as 
 I returned from a visit to the Kellys. She followed 
 me out, and we sat upon a seat by the river, talking 
 of the possibiUty of her joining the Lord's Table 
 this coming April Communion. I felt what a 
 real help and joy it would be to me in looking back 
 upon this winter, with all its groping and stumbling, 
 if I had let some ray of hght fall upon a weary 
 hfe. 
 
 In the afternoon of this Saturday came Lord 
 Shaftesbmy, bringing such a waft of old days. 
 " My last counsel to you, my dear, is to keep the 
 letter of Holy Writ ; the moment we go beyond this 
 we lose ourselves." Such were some of his words.
 
 ' ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 147 
 
 It is difficult to express one's feeling of love and 
 veneration for that old veteran in God's service. 
 What a hfe of labour and love his has been ! 
 
 July 2dtJi, 1882. Argyll Lodge. 
 
 The month of May, already so associated to us 
 with death and separation, was singularly marked 
 this j-ear by the deaths of Lord Frederick Caven- 
 dish, Dr. Hanna, and dear Dr. John Brown. For 
 all, how one can enter into the Thanksgiving for 
 all those departed in His faith and fear. What a 
 world of memories it brought over one ! Freddy, 
 who with his wife had been so much to us all at the 
 time of my mother's death in their house. His 
 having been found on his knees in the drawing- 
 room, was a testimony as to where he sought for 
 refuge. One of the things which has spoken most 
 strongly to one of the vital truth of Christianity 
 has been the way in which his widow is bearing the 
 trial. It is now a month since I spent an hour with 
 her, and I shall never forget the brave, patient, 
 tender, self-forgettmg spirit. 
 
 Then " Rab," who has shed upon our path of 
 late years a peculiar Hght, so bound up with my 
 mother's days, so full of affectionate sympathy ; 
 but for him and Dr. Hanna one felt one dare not 
 grieve. One could see in their case the work was 
 done, and with both, though in different ways, 
 one felt rising into the joy it must have been " to 
 know even as they were known." Dr. Hanna was 
 a true messenger of God to me during my suffering
 
 148 "ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN" 
 
 time at Cannes. The memory has remained with 
 me of his key-note being an intense realisation 
 of the Love of God, and of our Salvation through 
 Christ. 
 
 God has given me pecuHar and frequent privileges 
 this season in meeting with His people and hearing 
 the preaching of the Word. 
 
 My Sundays in Halkin Street under Dr. Saphir 
 have been a great pleasure, and one for which I 
 know I ought to and must give an account. 
 
 Then Dr. Dykes, who always seems to me to 
 answer to " Greatheart," I have heard several 
 times. One fitted to guide and strengthen when 
 faint and falling by the way. 
 
 Such a messenger as he was, especially one 
 evening, when one felt more inclined than ever to 
 give up the fight. I do not think things have ever 
 been quite the same since. 
 
 Then my Conference days at Mildmay were a 
 great blessing. It brought before me the unity, 
 love, and fervour of God's children towards Him, 
 and towards each other. 
 
 Mary's marriage to Edward Glyn has been a 
 source of much gratitude, and has brought real 
 sunshine into the home. 
 
 Jan. 4th, 1885. Inveraray. 
 
 It is again on the Lord's Day I enter a few lines, 
 for how can I go over the groimd of a year and 
 three-quarters ? How much have I to look 
 back upon ! On the first Sunday in 1885 may I
 
 "ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN" 149 
 
 not put my seal, " He faileth never,'' although I 
 feel the efl'ects of that ilhiess still, I am much 
 better, and have never missed one clothing club 
 meeting in town since they began in November, 
 and only two at Konmore. 
 
 The close of the year 1884 saw a large assemblage 
 in the Newton Hall of clothing club members, 
 and -ladies who chiefly contributed the things for 
 a large social tea ; and ]\Lr. Meikle, Mr. JMcKichan, 
 and ]\li-. Hose all took part. The Hall beautifully 
 decorated, and several of the ladies sitting down 
 at the tables pouring out tea ; so it was more hke 
 a family gathering. I felt that surely God had 
 granted some of our prayers as we saw the happy 
 faces, others, again, bowed down with anxiety or 
 sorrow. All within hearmg of the fervent prayer 
 and exhortation of Mi*. Meikle. Surely " the token 
 for good," I have longed for God to give me this 
 winter, as to whether it is His work. During the 
 » past year, I have had it put before me fi'om two 
 very different quarters, as to whether my hfe 
 among these people was hkely to be long continued. 
 God knows, but ]\Ir. MTherson's text this morning, 
 as I was alone in church, " My grace is sufficient 
 for thee," may suffice me. 
 
 Oct, 2Uli, 1885. Edinburgh. 
 
 On retm'ning to Inveraray it was pressed upon 
 me to go forward and see whether a Bible-class 
 could not be formed. ^Irs. Grant, telling me 
 that some young girls, going to her for prayer and
 
 150 "ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN" 
 
 reading, had stopped owing to being " twitted," 
 put a spur to what had been a long, slumbering 
 desu'e. I told the two ministers, and began about 
 the second week in September. It has gone on 
 increasing in numbers every week, and they seem 
 really interested. How much it helps me, I can 
 never say, in trying to make things plaui to others ; 
 they are certainly made plainer to oneself. The 
 subject is the " Life of Moses.'' 
 
 During these weeks there has been the heavy 
 trial of losmg Lord Shaftesbury. The Goschens 
 and others were in the house at the time, and one 
 felt as if one had to go about with an unspeakable 
 burden upon one. I think I did chiefly feel grati- 
 tude to God for giving me through him, during 
 those last years, such comisel and fiiendship. 
 
 I am finishing this on October 25th. I have once 
 more joined in the Communion at St. Cuthbert's. 
 Mr. Williamson preached upon " Christ Crucified." 
 It was a great help. 
 
 I must mention what gave me deep joy before 
 leaving Inveraray. Those two in whom I was 
 so deeply interested had gone forward to the 
 Communion, and I was able to speak more freely 
 about it than ever before to many. 
 
 Once more have I pledged myself in the beloved 
 City. On the 27th, the day we return to Inveraray, 
 it will be seventeen years since I came here with Dot. 
 
 Feb. 23rd, 1886. Inveraray. 
 
 I have seen all I can of the girls attending my
 
 " ONE, THE MARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 151 
 
 Bible-class. I think we shall end with about 
 fifty-eight. I feel very thankful to have so many 
 enrolled in a society which is Ufting up its standard 
 for pui'ity and uprightness in thought, word, and 
 deed. 
 
 I have found many among the girls very nice, 
 and such as we can count upon for being helps 
 to others. Surely, then, I ought to conclude with 
 "Bless the Lord, my soul, and forget not all 
 His benefits." 
 
 Ap-il 2Srd, 1886. Good Friday. Argyll Lodge. 
 Only a few Uncs can I write to-night before 
 joining Evey, Jamie, and Conny. It has been a 
 day blessed with private and personal associations 
 to me. Eight years ago on Good Friday I spent 
 in the Parish Church at the three-hour service, 
 and F. spoke to me at night of the prospect which 
 had opened for her. All rushed back to me as I 
 saw her in chm'ch this morning with her bairn. 
 The day is a marked one in my spiritual history, 
 for I thmk it was only that day, eight years ago, 
 I entered into the meaning, " Christ for us.'' 
 
 On Easter Sunday, April 23rd, 1886, Lady Victoria 
 writes that she has only been able for the morning 
 service at Dr. Saphir's. 
 
 It has been a blessed day ; he, as few others, 
 seem to bring one close to the feet of the Messiah. 
 I can never thank God enough for his ministry.
 
 152 " ONE, THE ]\IARCH IN GOD BEGUN '' 
 
 It brings me back to that Easter of 1875 when I 
 was left here with Kingie, and so first came into 
 contact with him. All through her spiritual 
 struggle, and my darkness, the words were ringmg 
 in my heart, " At eventide it shall be hght." It 
 was most assuredly with her, and so, too, may I 
 say at the close of another Easter Sunday is it 
 with me. 
 
 The longing increases to be more directly in the 
 so-called '* jMission Field." It came to me with a 
 deep sense of rest this evening, when readuig the 
 Epistle to the Ephcsians, that if God has prepared 
 the ways that we should walk in them. 
 
 The burden of thought for this ought to be laid 
 aside, for where and when He needs me for other 
 work He will make it plain. 
 
 I would do better to ask whether I have the 
 " perfect heart '' in the present sphere, and whether 
 my wish for another does not he in great measm'e 
 in the sense of diliiculty. 
 
 Home ties, she says, " are getting fainter and 
 fainter," and with the marriage of Lady Evelyn 
 the last of the sisterhood and of "us four " had left 
 the home. The WTench was a severe one, but in this, 
 and in other changes, she read, more and more 
 clearly, that the claims upon her were lessening, 
 and that wider fields were opening for her. 
 
 She had learnt what were her powers. She had 
 tried to teach, and had an answer in the full and 
 warm-hearted classes which gathered round her.
 
 " ONE, THE IMARCH IN GOD BEGUN " 153 
 
 Her life had been enriched by much friendship and 
 social intercoui'se within and without her home ; 
 and the next record of her life is that of work, where 
 her heart had long been set, among the people of 
 the islands and highlands of Argyll.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 "and they waken'd the men of the 
 wild tiree " 
 
 " Sunlit isles of sapphire seas ! 
 Far, ethereal forms, 
 Can ye be the Hebrides ? 
 Are ye nursed in stornib 1 
 
 Days that breathe of Paradise ! 
 Are ye glimpses given, 
 As if earth, with thinner skies, 
 Closer lay to Heaven 1 " 
 
 There arc many who will read this Life, who have 
 never seen the Hebridean Isles. They picture them 
 as remote, surromided by seas, as stormy and grey as 
 the mists and clouds with which their imagination 
 enshrouds them. 
 
 The islanders they see in hovels, dim \^^th peat 
 reek, their sodden crops green and unripe, their 
 fishing-boats tossed on treacherous and uncertain 
 seas, their language an unknown tongue, their rehgion 
 as sombre, and their Church government as full of 
 strife and division as were the days of tribal warfare. 
 It would be as reasonable to form an estimate of the 
 fertihty of Holland from the top of Mont Blanc, 
 as it is to describe the Hebrides from a passing visit 
 to the congested districts of the Lewes, or some remote 
 corner of Skye. 
 
 154
 
 " THE MEN OF THE WILD TIREE " 155 
 
 Standing on the island of Tiree the nearest mountain 
 visible is Ben Mohr, in Mull. The native of Tiree may 
 be basking in sunlight for days together, " while the 
 winds Ben Mohr has harboured, bui'st in thunder 
 from their home." The grey mists may sweep in 
 traihng torrents, blotting out for the time the vision 
 of all the islands round, and Tiree may experience only 
 a passing scud. 
 
 On the other hand, it has its own vaporous storms, 
 when earth, air, and sea seem composed of water ; 
 when not a rock, or tree, breaks the force of the wild 
 west gale, which like a fury sweeps everything before 
 it, and then, spent with its own gigantic efforts, 
 drops to sleep like a tii'cd child. 
 
 Tiree was the island where Lady Victoria spent 
 most of her time, and it was the place where she 
 ultimately made a settled home ; and it will not be 
 without interest to quote the words in which the late 
 Duke of Ai'gyll describes his visits to the island, 
 first in 1847, and agam in the year 1850. 
 
 Soon after my succession to the family estates 
 in 1847 a friend of mine, who was a great agricul- 
 tural improver, and an excellent judge of the value 
 of land, offered to buy the island of Tiree at a price 
 which represented an income of £1400 a year. 
 As my returns from the estate were then nil, this 
 offer was pecuniarily a great temptation. I dechned 
 the transaction, influenced largely by my reluc- 
 tance to diminish still further the family estates, 
 and also by my Uking for the island ever since I
 
 156 "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 had seen its charms in the summer of 1840, when 
 I was enchanted with its weahh of sky and sea, 
 its long, beautiful bays of pure white sand, its rich 
 pastures, its air ringing with the song of sky- 
 larks, its multitude of corncrakes, whose curious 
 cry I have always loved, and its rocks full of 
 shining crystals of felspar and hornblende. 
 
 Besides all this, I felt sure the new proprietor 
 would deal rather too summarily with the excessive 
 population. I considered that, although, in a 
 sense, that over-population was the fault of the 
 people, it was also, in a sense, the fault of my 
 predecessors. If they had kept watch, and had 
 fully enforced the rules of the estate against sub- 
 division, the evil would not have arisen. 
 
 There was not only no tree, but there was not 
 even a bush upon the island. It was absolutely bare 
 and open to the sky, and to every wind that blew. 
 
 On the other hand, there was an abundance 
 and exuberance of the richest meadow grasses, 
 a corresponding abundance of that curious and 
 charming bird, the landrail, or corncrake, and such 
 a population of skylarks that the air was always 
 ringing with their music. 
 
 All the tenantry, and most of the cottagers, 
 dwelt in comfortable houses of a type which is 
 almost pecuhar to that island. The walls were 
 low, and always double. The roof was of neat 
 straw thatch, somewhat beehive in shape, and rest-
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 157 
 
 ing always on the innermost of the two walls, 
 so that the space between the two walls, being 
 filled with sand, made a sort of broad ledge, or 
 bastion, round the roof. On this ledge the women 
 and children, and often the men, sat or stood in 
 groups to see us as we passed. We were everyw^here 
 received with the greatest enthusiasm. 
 
 Jt was a large and teeming population, approach- 
 ing at that time to nearly five thousand souls. 
 They were well-clad, cheerful, and evidently happy, 
 as yet untainted by the passions of the demagogue, 
 and the ignorance of fools. 
 
 As there was nothing to interest me much in 
 the session of 1850, my wife and I determined to 
 spend some of the midsummer weeks in visiting 
 my island estates in the Hebrides, and particularly 
 Tiree, which had been the source of so much 
 anxiety ever since 1846, and where the work of 
 reform was still going on to such an extent that the 
 whole rental of the estate was absorbed. Accor- 
 dingly, we hired a steamer and made our way 
 to that lovely island. The only house we could 
 inhabit was one used by the island factor. It was 
 in the singular position of bemg built on a pro- 
 montory projecting into a small and sheltered lake, 
 at some distance from the sea. I do not doubt that 
 this was a traditional site where a crannog, or 
 lake-dwelling had once existed, and that its con- 
 nection with the shores of the lake had been effected 
 by subsequent filling in of the isolating channel.
 
 158 "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 A large part of the island of Tirce is not raised 
 50 feet above the waves. But all the more com- 
 pletely are we deUvered over to the two great 
 dominions of the ocean and of the sky, with just 
 enough of earth to indicate the relation of both 
 to its abundance of Hfe and joy. The sea comes in 
 on every variety of beach, but chiefly on great 
 curved bays of pure white sand ; sometimes in 
 the gentlest ripple, sometimes in rollers which are 
 magnificent. The grass pastures are rich in clover, 
 and full of larks. The sides in the evening are often 
 gorgeous beyond description ; the clouds imitating 
 sometimes towers and battlements, and even 
 mountain ranges, so sohd, apparently, that I have 
 seen strangers convinced of their substantiaUty. 
 Much of the glory of the sky, and of the long after- 
 glow which succeeds the sunset, and in that 
 latitude " lies in heaven half the night," was re- 
 flected in the little loch underneath our windows ; 
 whilst terns and plovers of various species came 
 to roost on the boulder-stones which were above 
 the water. Coots and water-hens floated among the 
 reeds, busy with their peaceful quest of water- 
 reeds. 
 
 My enjo}Tnent in this peculiar scenery was 
 greatly enhanced by seeing the happy effects upon 
 the people of the poUcy which I had entered upon 
 four years ago. The emigration of several hmidreds 
 of half-starving tenants, and the annexation of their 
 wretched Httle possessions to those held by their 
 more capable neighbours, together with systematic
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 159 
 
 draining of large areas of land, were measures 
 which were already bearing most satisfactory 
 fruit. The interest chargeable on capital laid out 
 on these improvements seemed to be met with 
 ease out of increased produce, and other tenants 
 were eager to have their land drained on the same 
 terms. The people throughout the island were 
 most cordial in the reception they gave us, for as 
 yet the " Epoch of the Fools " was far away, 
 when they were to be taught that every power, 
 which had been exercised by me and my ancestors 
 for their benefit, was a power which we never ought 
 to have possessed. 
 
 Thus was the island described by the Duke, re- 
 / calling near the end of his hfe his two early visits 
 to this outermost of the lands he possessed. He does 
 not note in his reminiscences the extraordinary 
 storm which burst over the island, during the time 
 he and the Duchess staved in Island House. It was 
 August, and not the season for lasting tempests. 
 This one was preluded by a phenomenal fall of the 
 barometer, and raged with such severity that the 
 party were storm-stayed for a considerable period. 
 It gave the Duchess a sense of insecurity. The possi- 
 biUty of being again detained from her family on 
 the mainland prevented her visiting the island, till 
 in later years the yacht " Columba " took her from 
 the safe harbours of Bunessan and Tobermory, to 
 lie for a few hours in Gott Bay. 
 
 The Duke's interest in the improvement of the
 
 IGO "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 land and of the people never relaxed, however distant 
 he might be. He knew the history and conditions of 
 the crofter population. He had seen the island at its 
 w^orst, had witnessed famine, and had helped to 
 combat it. He had seen a low state of living in the 
 houses, and an ignorant tillage of the soil raised and 
 improved. Rents had gone back into the land, and 
 there had been peace and prosperity where there had 
 been misery and ignorance. 
 
 Then arose, what the Duke alludes to with tren- 
 chant severity as " The Epoch of the Fools," when 
 mercenary agitators went to and fro preaching a 
 gospel which had for its motto, " Blessed is he who 
 removes his neighbour's landmark.'' 
 
 Long ago, the agitation in Tiree has died the death 
 it deserves. A melancholy cairn, erected to himself 
 by the chief agitator, alone marks the days of the 
 Land League and its folly. But such " epochs " 
 make history, and no country is the same where, 
 even for a season, lawlessness and disorder have 
 obtained the upper hand. 
 
 There were, doubtless, mistakes on both sides. 
 The Celtic temperament is pecuharly susceptible to 
 personal influence, and it is sensitive to a fault where 
 honest pride is wounded. 
 
 The Duke could never forget the misrepresentation 
 and injustice which his Hfe's work had received. 
 It would have been better had he gone among the 
 people of his own. race, and met the hes of the paid 
 agitator with the words of ringing truth, as he alone 
 knew how to utter them. The work was less effi-
 
 • 
 
 M^^ 
 
 Photol 
 
 [//'. &■ y. Stuart. 
 
 KKIZAHETH KXOWI.KS.
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE '' 161 
 
 ciently done by what his daughter called " the niiddlc- 
 iiien/' and by the arrival of the soldiers. Theii* chief 
 occupation was assisting the islanders with their 
 harvest, while the officers were the pioneers who laid 
 out the first of the golf courses, destined to be famous 
 in the annals of first-class golf. It would be useless 
 to revive the story of the agitation. It has been 
 repeated in other islands, even though the Crofter Act 
 has changed many of the conditions. It will be re- 
 peated again, as long as any man ignores economic 
 laws, and the change which has passed over the con- 
 ditions of rural hfe. 
 
 It was dui'ing this ** epoch " that Lady Victoria's 
 mind was becoming more and more concentrated 
 where there was most trouble, for such was ever the 
 place whereunto she felt called. 
 
 Living at Inverarav in the winter of 1884 she 
 entered in the diary brief but pregnant notices of the 
 events which made it so dark and troubled a season 
 for those who were beside the Duke. In August, 
 during the yachting cruise, she says at the end of 
 one of her weeks : " Another possible opening i)ut 
 before me.'' 
 
 In the begmning of December she \mtes : " Heard 
 of crofters seizing land in Tiree." 
 
 Dec. 3lst. 
 
 The crofter agitation is our great trial. 
 
 The year closes with the happy record of her work 
 at Inveraray. 
 
 M
 
 162 "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 Yesterday we had a delightful clothing club 
 
 social tea. Quite sixty, I think, sat down to it, 
 
 and the spirit so hearty. I feel very happy about 
 it. 
 
 The year 1885 saw no improvement in the agita- 
 tion, and the Duke addressed a letter to his people. 
 It contains his reasons for seeking the forces of law 
 and order, and the letter never received any answer 
 or denial of the facts which he put before the 
 crofters. In all the evidence given before the various 
 Commissions (" Land," and others), and in subse- 
 quent inquiries, not a tittle of evidence could be found 
 to prove one act of injustice or mismanagement on 
 the estate over an extended period of years. 
 
 Crofters of Tyree, 
 
 With great sorrow and extreme reluctance I 
 have been at last compelled to take legal steps to 
 enforce law, justice, and common honesty against 
 a few of your number. 
 
 For more than forty years my relations with you 
 have been not only most peaceful and friendly, 
 but, more than this, they have been marked by 
 special cordiahty. On all my visits, at intervals, 
 to the island, and to your cottages, I have felt the 
 evidence of an old affection, and I have returned 
 it m helping and rejoicing over the steady and 
 manifest improvement in your condition. 
 
 Only within the last three or four years has 
 there been any change on the part of any of you,
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 163 
 
 and as there has been no change in my system of 
 management, which was eminently favourable to 
 you, and as agricultural distress had not, till last 
 year, affected the kind of produce you depend 
 upon, I had no doubt from the first, and I have no 
 doubt now, that the beginnings of lawlessness in 
 the islapd have been due entirely to the instigation 
 of .outsiders. But these instigations have been of 
 the worst character, and have led to consequences 
 which are shocking to every sense of justice, and 
 in some cases to every manly feeling. My infor- 
 mation comes from mdividual members of your 
 own body, as well as from the pubhc knowledge 
 of facts notorious in the island. Many amongst 
 you who are most deserving have suflered most. 
 I will mention a few cases. 
 
 Three years ago the neglect of kitchen or vege- 
 table gardens — too common all over the highlands 
 — having attracted my attention, I gave notice 
 m Tyree, as well as in Mull, that I would give a 
 prize of £10 to the crofter who would enclose, 
 dig, and plant, the best vegetable garden in the 
 island. One of your number, who is a widow, 
 wished to compete for this prize. She began the 
 necessary work, whereupon intimations were made 
 to her by some members of the secret society 
 which t}Tannises the island that she would not be 
 allowed to do so, and that any enclosure she might 
 make in the day would be pulled do^\Tl in the night. 
 Bemg a lone and unprotected widow she was 
 mtimidated by this threat. Another of your
 
 164 ''AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 number, being a strong man and of independent 
 character, resisted intimidation, and got the prize. 
 But the poor widow was deprived of her freedom, 
 and of her right to the possible reward of her own 
 labour and intelhgence. 
 
 Another widow, whose industry and thrift have 
 enabled her to educate her son successfully for the 
 ministr}' of the Church, in which he is now a highly 
 respected pastor, has had her Uttle croft invaded 
 by the son of one of your number, who, not being 
 allowed, I suppose, by his father to erect a new 
 house on his croft, has seized upon a portion of the 
 little possession of a defenceless woman, and has 
 erected a house upon it, in defiance of her will, 
 and to her serious damage and inconvenience. 
 
 In a third case, another crofter, also a poor 
 widow, has lately had a number of cattle turned 
 into her croft, and she dare not drive them off. 
 Her pasture is consumed by others who have no 
 right to it, and her enjoyment of her possession 
 is destroyed. 
 
 These outrages are condemned, I have no doubt, 
 by the great majority of you. But you don't 
 rebuke them, or resist them openly. They have 
 been followed in consequence by other outrages, 
 which imply the sympathy and comphcity of a 
 larger number of persons, and prove the lawless 
 and growing tyranny which you have allowed to 
 be estabhshed among you. The farm, or towTiship, 
 of Sandaig is held by crofters, who are among the 
 most respectable and industrious of all my tenants
 
 'OF THE WILD TIKEE " 165 
 
 in Tyree. The common pasture belonging to them 
 has been violently seized by other crofters from the 
 farm of Moss ; the dikes and fences have been 
 broken down, and the tenants to whom this grazing 
 belongs, as part of the farm, have been violently 
 prevented from rebuilding or repairing them. 
 
 Again, violence equally oppressive and unjust 
 has been resorted to against another crofter, to 
 ^\•^lom I have let the little farm of Groenhill. This 
 farm, having become vacant by the late tenant 
 determining to leave the island, it was duly adver- 
 tised, and it was open to any of you, individually 
 or collectively, to offer for it. But only one of you 
 did so, and no other proposal or ofler of any kind 
 came from any of you. I was willing to accept 
 his offer, although at a greatly reduced rent, 
 because it was a promotion to one of your number, 
 who is, I believe, an industrious man. Accordingly 
 I did accept it. He bought stock for his farm, 
 and went, in due com'se, to take possession. He 
 was met by a rabble of men, crofters and others, 
 who threatened him with violence, and drove him 
 away from the exercise of his legal rights. Those 
 who committed this violence have not the least 
 pretext in defence of their conduct. It has been 
 an act of pure violence, of gross injustice, and of 
 defiant lawlessness. 
 
 It is my clear duty to defend all my tenants in 
 the enjoyment of their lawful rights, whether they 
 be defenceless women or individual men, or joint 
 possessors in a township.
 
 16G "AND TIIF.Y WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 I feel sure that most of you must detest this 
 tyranny, but you have been wanting in the moral 
 courage to combine and to resist it. Perhaps it has 
 been partly my fault, in hoping so long against hope 
 that a sense of honour and of justice would return 
 without the help of the officers of the law. But 
 I have been disappointed. The spirit of lawless- 
 ness, as it generally does when not resisted, has been 
 spreading. Violence has been getting worse and 
 worse ; and I know a case in which a poor woman 
 has declared that when asking payment of some 
 small debt on an ordinary account, she has been 
 rudely repelled by the debtor, who told her that 
 there was now no law in the island of Tyree. 
 
 I can no longer delay to procure for the peaceful 
 and honest and law-abiding people of Tyree that 
 protection of the law which is the right of every 
 subject of the Queen. I call upon you all to help 
 me in this duty. You know that none of the stock 
 grievances of the agitators have ever afTected you 
 in Tyree. No deer forests have ever encroached 
 upon you. There are no big mountain-sheep 
 grazings, which have swallowed up your townships. 
 On the contrary, your crofts were almost all given 
 to you since the beginning of the present centur}', 
 by my grandfather cutting up former large farms 
 for the purpose. Since then I have helped you to 
 recover from excessive subdivision, and you have 
 largely profited in consequence. There is not one 
 of you that does not enjoy now more laud than you 
 or your fathers had when I succeeded to the estate
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 167 
 
 forty years ago. Many of you have double, treble, 
 quadruple the extent you had then. Some of you 
 have a great deal more. You may depend upon it 
 that nothing that has happened lately will ever 
 lead me to forget our old relations. I ask for any 
 intelhgible complaint. None has been addressed 
 to me, except from a few individuals, which I have 
 always answered. If rent is in question, which it 
 has seldom been, the law now provides a remedy. 
 But nothing can be done in the way of improvement 
 where lawless violence prevails. It is my duty to 
 protect all of you, as far as the law enables me to 
 do so. But you nmst help to protect yourselves. 
 
 Argyll. 
 
 The islands do not appear much in the diaries of 
 this year. " Jan. \st, 1885. Feeling very down. 
 Bad news of Tiree." At the close of the first week 
 of the year she says : " One of great disappointed 
 sadness. But feel things brightening as week closes." 
 On Feburary 5th she writes : " Terrible day of 
 suspense ; heard before luncheon by telegram from 
 Papa that Khartoum had fallen. Contradicted, but 
 again asserted. Again, later in the week, concensus of 
 opinion that Gordon hves. Feel veiy down about it all." 
 
 The Duke had gone to Glasgow^ to make a poHtical 
 speech, and the news had not yet come in as to the 
 fall of Khartoum. He said he could not have spoken 
 at all had he heard the truth, and not beheved, as 
 all the country rejoiced in beheving, that " at last " 
 Gordon had been reheved.
 
 168 "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 Feb. nth, 1885. 
 
 The wishes " for a happy new year " have been 
 all too soon drowned, and in exchange it may truly 
 be said there has gone forth throughout Great 
 Britain an exceeding great and bitter cry, for the 
 dreadful news, now anticipated for a week, of the 
 death of General Gordon. Stabbed — and the 
 massacre of the garrison. We can hardly ever 
 live through a more terrible time than this last 
 week. One shrinks from the pain yet to come 
 in the strife and war of words, for most assuredly 
 will Gladstone's Government be bitterly arraigned. 
 Only time can show how they will come out of it. 
 
 Certain it is that to them must now fall the 
 heaviest share of sorrow and disappointment when 
 Gordon's rescue seemed so close at hand, and think- 
 ing they have been in the wrong will not make it 
 less hard to bear. 
 
 The disappointment is a bitter one, and while won- 
 dering why God (alas, one always asks " Why ? ") 
 has seen fit to refuse such united supplications for 
 the hfe of Gordon, one thought has come to me. 
 Did He not see it would be best to take him from 
 this year's close and lonely watch with Him, 
 away from the temptation, glare, and pomp 
 which most assuredly would have awaited him, 
 and which one feels would have been so distasteful 
 to him. 
 
 1885 was still to be a time of quiet preparation. 
 It would have been a good thing had the way
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 169 
 
 " been opened/' and had " Nighean an Diuc '* 
 (the Duke's daughter) gone in among the people 
 whose hearts she ever understood ; but she was 
 too clear-sighted not to see the folly, and too up- 
 right not to condemn the dishonest and disloyal 
 methods of the Land Leaguers. 
 
 It was not the moment to speak of her ambitions 
 and resolutions, so, as usual, she bided her time, and 
 set h'er hand to any work which was open to her. 
 
 She began to learn shorthand, and the daily round 
 is filled with the record of practising this method, 
 and learning Gaelic from any instructor she could 
 impress into her service at Inveraray ; the Rev. Mr. 
 McKichan was her teacher during this year, and Mrs. 
 Grant was also beside her. 
 
 The shorthand must have been dropped, as it 
 was not used in any of her voluminous notebooks. 
 Up to this date, and for some time later, her hand- 
 writing was singularly legible. No pen ever traversed 
 so much note-paper more rapidly, or was ever held 
 for a longer time. 
 
 She was pecuHarly long-sighted, and only recog- 
 nised very slowly that long-sighted people, with the 
 passing years, need reading-glasses. She never had 
 efficient help in this direction, or was too impatient 
 to adjust what she had. A form of writer's cramp 
 completed the illegibihty of her later writing, and her 
 letters were a puzzle to those even who received the 
 most of her correspondence. 
 
 She had a strong objection to being told her hand- 
 writing was a difiiculty, and to the end she thought
 
 170 "AND TIIEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 thu fault lay with the perverted sight of her readers, 
 rather than the crooked ways of her letters. To one 
 correspondent she sent a particularly badly written 
 letter from a friend, with the endorsement, " Is tliis 
 writing superior to mine ? " It came back to her with 
 the truthful answer : " Yes, except when you take 
 pains." 
 
 Dr. Cameron Lees said that the deciphering of one 
 of her letters lasted him just three weeks, when 
 another would arrive. The rapidity of writing was 
 only an index of the working of her mind. It re- 
 quired an intimate knowledge of her line of thought, 
 a firm grip of the central idea, a determination to 
 wait for the verb, and to hold on to the noun, and not 
 to be distracted by the parenthesis on parenthesis, 
 to make out the full gist of her conversation. It was 
 always an outpouring. " Listen ! " she would begin, 
 and the hearer was launched into a sea of other folks* 
 aflairs. Before ver}' long the listener would realise 
 he or she had a part to play. " Go here, and go there ; 
 write this, and see this person." She never spared 
 trouble, never doubted others would be as interested, 
 and would toil after the schemes of her brain. She 
 was seldom disappointed. If the methods seemed 
 cumbersome, the directions not always lucid, behind 
 them lay the clear determination to achieve. 
 
 The doctors in the great Infirmaries of the west 
 knew her handwriting well. If they were able to 
 grasp the name of the patient who had been sent into 
 their wards, that was all they had to know. They 
 learnt they need not spend time deciphering all the
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE" 171 
 
 story writteu to them ; the behest to them was sure 
 to be to cure and send back the patients she had 
 ordered away for their good. They must not lose 
 interest, and must do their utmost ; and the poorer 
 the patients the more certain would be Lady Victoria's 
 «i;rij) of their Uves and destinies. 
 
 In bed, late or early, the writing-pad and the busy 
 pen were always at hand. Through the day a thought 
 would enter her head : down it was written, and 
 footmen and coachmen in London were ke})t on the 
 go with special messages, which could wait for no 
 postal hours. 
 
 One of her sisters once went down to meet her as 
 she was landed on a rough day on the boat-shp at 
 lona. She was carried out of the boat, and placed, 
 enveloped in many soaked wraps, on the wet pier. 
 " Don't speak to me till I have written these post 
 cards, for the steamer to take with her," and oblivious 
 of the rain that curled the paper and blackened her 
 pencil strokes, the cards were written. If they were 
 illegible, the recipients certainly never dared to say 
 so, and always acted in faith when the missives 
 reached them. It was no use to trust that she would 
 forget. She kept no memorandum-book of her many 
 engagements, for memory never failed her. When 
 others forgot her errands, her commands, her com- 
 missions, and her messages, it was a lapse she might, 
 with an effort of patience, forgive ; but she could not 
 understand the failure, and the sinner was given next 
 time a written document '* to make everything 
 clear."
 
 172 " AND^ TIIEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 Wlicn tlic work of life is done, ami the tools of the 
 worker, with the accom})Ushed tasks, arc all on 
 view, it is possible to consider the method and the 
 achievenicnt both together. In many cases the 
 orderly mind goes with methods of order, the orga- 
 nising brain finds other hands and feet ; labour- 
 saving apparatuses are used, and the oflice of the 
 brain is provided with appropriate pigeon-holes. 
 
 Lady Victoria's own work was always on the lines 
 of labour-giving, and not saving. She never had a 
 trained secretary, and her many " girl friends and 
 fags *' only did a minute portion of clerical work. 
 Her thoughts ran into the minutest detailed in- 
 structions, and she left nothing to chance. 
 
 Her work remains. Behind the classes, mothers' 
 meetings, Y.AV.C.A., and Guilds she had a " con- 
 necting link." She saw them as bringing the women 
 and girls of the highlands and islands into helpful 
 touch with the hfe and work of the churches, and, 
 socially, she saw in their fellowships and protection 
 a great stimulus to a higher moral standard among 
 the younger women. Her clothing clubs were baits 
 for the ingathering of her classes. When she had got 
 the mothers she was in touch with the children, and 
 that led to soup-kitchens in the winter, and greater 
 facilities for procuring milk for the school ( liildren. 
 The Duke's cows were instituted. There were battles 
 royal, and much ink was spilt over imperial quarts and 
 fair prices ; but the thing was accomphshed, and has 
 continued. How it was done is not easy to reconstruct 
 from the voluminous notes and letters which still
 
 OF THE ^^^LD TIREE" 173 
 
 survive. The ink has faded, and only those who knew 
 her, above all those who were driven forward in the 
 whirlwind of her energy, her fellow-workers of all 
 ages and sexes, and of every social degree, these alone 
 hold the secret of her practical successes, and can 
 read the handwriting aright. During a vacancy in 
 one of the parishes, one of her family asked the late 
 Dr. Mackenzie, of Kingussie, why he had not one of 
 his *'*boys " ready to answer a call ? "I can't get 
 anyone to go ; they are all afraid of Lady Victoria," 
 was his feeble and laughing excuse. Every drone 
 shunned her presence, and her energy was an almost 
 irritating reproach to the slack in thought and deed. 
 
 In the last year of her life, when physical strength 
 was at a very low ebb, and her enterprises were 
 limited, a member of her family went into her London 
 lodging, after a day of somewhat strenuous exertion. 
 She was saluted by the figure on the couch leaning 
 forward eagerly, holding out a pamphlet, the face 
 full of the spirit that quickeneth : " F., the moment 
 you have done with this Conmiission, you must take 
 up the white slave tralHc." 
 
 " To ride abroad redressing human wrong," was 
 an instinct with her. Sometimes she rode full tilt, 
 and the object did not gain from her impetuosity. 
 Occasionally she was too strenuous to be tactful. 
 To say her sense of time and place was always in 
 proportion would be inaccurate, but when the whirl- 
 wmd had gone by, and the zeal which had over- 
 driven fat cattle had died down, there remained the 
 still small voice which showed the conscience that she
 
 174 "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 had been right ; that there was a dark spot whieh 
 needed Hght, there was error wliith needed the truth. 
 No one could ever comfort themselves with the 
 thought that they had done right to abide by the 
 stulT, because they could not work in a sphere accord- 
 ing to her directions. 
 
 It is needless to say that, brought u}) in the atmo- 
 sphere of her father's house, she was deeply interested 
 in political life. The poUtics of Church and State 
 were the staples of conversation in the home life. 
 Nothing she enjoyed more than the privilege which 
 gave her a scat in the gallery of the House of I^rds, 
 and manv a weary climb did she undertake to that 
 exalted region, after driving with her father down 
 to the House. 
 
 Naturally she followed the politics of the Duke, 
 but her experience of hfe led her into many in- 
 dependent opinions. She knew the land question 
 in a manner which would have shamed the knowledge 
 of most Members of Parliament, and she had pro- 
 nounced views on the various Secretaries for Scotland, 
 and their administration of that State department. 
 
 She was an early supporter of the movement for 
 the enfranchisement of women. Here, again, her 
 convictions came to her through experience. She 
 knew how imperfect were the laws which regulated 
 the industrial lives of women, and she felt how httle 
 legislators had done to protect and guard the morals 
 of girls and children ; and she had strong views on 
 licensing and all temperance legislation. As usual, 
 it was the desire to have the power to do something.
 
 O'F THE WILD TTREE" 175 
 
 to have the rcsponsibihty of the faiths that were m 
 her, that made her desirous of having a vote. 
 
 Those who cared for the suffrage, often wished that 
 she had borne a platform testimony to this cause. 
 She was not a platform speaker, and had a shrinking 
 from women taking any such part in pubhc. She 
 saw its necessity, but while watching it in others, 
 she never practised it herself. She addressed classes 
 and meetings of women, but men, especially the 
 clergy, were always sent out of the room when they 
 had done their official duty. She spoke sitting, and 
 spoke with great ffuency and rapidity. She had no 
 oratorical gift, and her addresses were deUvered with 
 less animation than her conversational gifts would 
 lead one to expect. 
 
 She had the greatest difficulty in mastering the 
 nervous tension of pubhc utterance. No conquest 
 in her Hfe-story was greater than the overcoming 
 of the deep reserve which she inherited from her 
 father on all that concerned the spiritual hfe. She 
 feaw that her work was to lie in bearing testimony, 
 and the missionary spirit helped her in the line of 
 this duty. To the very end it was a great strain 
 on body and mind, and, to use her own frequent 
 expression, " it took it out of her " to an extent 
 she hid successfully from those who had gathered 
 to hear her. 
 
 All pubhc notice and comment on her work she 
 greatly disliked. She was upborne by the remem- 
 brance and recognition of her friends. She leant 
 heavily on human sympathy and love, and she was
 
 176 "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE xMEN 
 
 encompassed by it ; but the ways of the Press 
 commentator, and the advert ismg of her name in 
 papers, was ahuost comically abhorrent to her. Ex- 
 cept in church magazines her name rarely appeared ; 
 if she wrote to the papers it was usually with the 
 signature, '* Hebridean " ; and when the school of 
 wood-carving, which she instituted in Tiree, formed 
 the subject of a paragraph in the newspapers, she 
 would have been happier had her name been left out 
 of the notice. 
 
 On the day of her death there soon appeared at the 
 house a carrion-crow from the Press. He sought 
 an interview with one of the family, and uttered the 
 complaint : " We have nothing written up of her. 
 Who was she, and what did she do ? " 
 
 " You have paid her the only compUment it was in 
 your power to pay her," was the answer he got, as 
 the door was opened and shut upon his carcase. 
 
 She was a real student of the newspapers, and to 
 have them read aloud to her was the relaxation of 
 the hour after dinner. The last interest she had in 
 the region of pohtics was the side she took in the 
 Fiscal controversy, being to the surprise of some of 
 her people, " a convinced Tariff Reformer." 
 
 Writmg in 1903 to her sister, Lady 'Mary, she 
 says : — 
 
 ^^^lat a time it is in pohtics ! I never remember 
 such a time since you and I came down with Papa 
 from London in 1881, when he had resigned after 
 the Irish Land Bill proposals. All down the hne
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 177 
 
 posters up with " Cabinet Crisis." I can't help 
 feehng it is a pity. From what httle I have seen 
 of agriculture, I have long felt with regard to 
 Foreign competition, how are we to succeed ? I 
 remember asking father, one of those last years, 
 to explain how Free Trade could pay, as other 
 countries had not taken to it, and being struck 
 with his halting answer ! How one longs for a 
 talk with him ! 
 
 Her sense that protected emigration was the proper 
 outlet for the surplus women of the country, brought 
 her into close and vital touch with the dominions 
 beyond the seas ; and consciously, or more probably 
 miconsciously, she was a strong Imperialist, believing 
 that for Great Britain there was yet very much 
 land to be possessed for God and the Covenant of 
 Promise. 
 
 This period of her Hfe cannot be passed over without 
 some account of her hfe among the younger gener- 
 ation. In her the mother-instinct was in overwhelm- 
 ing proportion. Her parents had been the veritable 
 roof-trees of her existence, and she clung to the 
 memory of the one, and missed the mother-love 
 from her surroundings to the end of her life. There 
 w^ere some of her friends for whom she had the feelings 
 of a daughter : ]\Irs. Gordon, of Melrose, and Louisa, 
 Duchess of Northumberland, had both a pecuhar 
 position in her affections. Writing of a visit to 
 Albury in 1886, she speaks of the rest it had been. 
 " The Duchess's strong counsel to be in no hurry to
 
 178 "AND THEY WAKEXJ) THE MEN 
 
 seek other work seemed like a message." In 1890, 
 she says : — 
 
 On Dec. 18th the dear Duchess of Northumber- 
 land " fell asleep." God only knows what a loss 
 she is to me. For the last few years it has been 
 such a deep, sacred friendship that I have seldom 
 spoken of it. How can 1 thank God enough for 
 her long, faithful sympathy ! Her one fear was that 
 of doing or being anything contrary to God's will. 
 ** My darhng, you will, I know, desire only to be 
 all your Heavenly Father would have you. Put 
 aside every other side-consideration, every motive 
 but one : can I do this thing ? Is it God's will 
 for me ? " Such are some of her sayings which seem 
 wafted back to me. I could not have believed her 
 loss could have given me such a sense of lonehness, 
 such a reawakening to the pain of my mother's 
 death, such a breaking of old ties. Three passages 
 of Scripture will for ever be associated in my mind 
 with her : 
 
 " For I have satiated the wearv soul, and I have 
 replenished every sorrowful soul." 
 
 " Upon this I awaked, and beheld ; and my sleep 
 was sweet mito me." 
 
 " And He shall sit as a Refiner." 
 
 A visit to ]\Irs. Gordon, her " Mother President," at 
 Melrose was to her always a time of refreshing, and 
 in work and spiritual communion she received much 
 help from her old fiiend. Mrs. Gordon writes to her
 
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE" 179 
 
 when the islands were looming large on Lady Victoria's 
 horizon : — 
 
 My dearest V., 
 
 Of course I give my blessing. I think on the 
 whole, and I said so surely, did I not ? that this 
 plan is decidedly the best. All I ever feared was 
 the 'length of the dreary island winter for your 
 delicate health. I comforted myself that you had 
 many homes to go to, which you might cheer and 
 bless for a time when this proved the case. I 
 don't think that at all a suggestion of the enemy 
 to keep you from other work ! The worst of the 
 case is that one can't express all one feels in this 
 change in life for you, my dear, dear child. The 
 leadings you tell me of do look, indeed, as if the 
 Lord pointed in that direction ; and, of course, 
 for our work it is a very great boon. May He give 
 you the Jabez blessing: "Oh that thou wouldest 
 bless me indeed, and enlarge my coast, and that 
 Thine hand might be with me, and that Thou 
 wouldest keep me from evil, that it may not grieve 
 me ! " A blessing, " indeed," fitted for dwellers 
 by the sea. May you have your " coasts " enlarged, 
 and your work prospered. There is as much work 
 for God when we have quiet times of gathering 
 honey and laying up manna for further use, as 
 when engaged in full feverish activity. But I 
 just trust you to your Guide and Teacher, for 
 " who teacheth Uke Him ? "
 
 180 "AND TITEV WAKEX'D THE !\IEN 
 
 A later undated letter, after island life had fidly 
 begun, says : — 
 
 How thank fid T am that the Ix)rd preserved you 
 in all that danger ! Oh, what a state the dear aunt 
 would have been in ! Thank you dearly for keeping 
 me up to your doings. I pray for you on Thursday 
 mornings as well as Saturdays. I want to pray 
 more and better for my friends. How long ago 
 those strange, solemn Kinellan days do seem to 
 me 1 I am so touched at the thought of this 
 anniversary day. The Lord had most loving 
 purposes for you that day, and every day since ; 
 and one can but thank Him for all He has done, 
 and, prospectively, for all He is yet to do. 
 
 Once more, and it is the last words from Mrs. 
 Gordon's pen to her, Lady Victoria had written to 
 tell her she was contemplating going to India. 
 
 I do feel breathless, my dear child, but I can 
 quite see it was right to make the proposal, and I 
 do thank you for letting me know that I may plead 
 for wisdom and jiuidance. I am sure vou are on 
 the right path, when you do it in utter submission 
 to the earthly father first, taking that as the gauge 
 of the Heavenly Father. May He be with you in 
 the waiting-time. 
 
 *o 
 
 There was no need to bid her wait on the \\ishes 
 of her father. His word was her law, and there was
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 181 
 
 to her no happiness in any enterprise which had not 
 his full approval. She was an old-fashioned believer 
 in the fifth conmiandnient, and thought it far too 
 little observed by the youth of her day. 
 
 The last year that she was in Loudon she consented 
 to accompany a member of her family to Westminster 
 Chapel, to worship with the congregation and hear 
 the preaching of Dr. Campbell Morgan. Unfortu- 
 nately it was a day of special celebration, always 
 destructive to good preaching. The subject was 
 the place of children m the home and in the nation, 
 and they were undoubtedly given the uj)permost 
 seat in the preacher's exhortation. Lady Victoria's 
 companion instinctively felt that one hearer of the 
 Word was not altogether satisfied. She was fully 
 prepared for the comment, that there was too much 
 about our duty to the children, and far too httle said 
 of the duty to the parent, and to parental authority. 
 
 At this period " the eight grandchildren in the 
 Castle," whom she records, were all coming to the 
 years of discretion, and there were many who were 
 elsewhere, or not yet of an age to enjoy her society. 
 La el}' Victoria loved her nephews and nieces, even 
 when not brought closely into touch \N^th their Uves ; 
 and where she had the run of their society her days 
 were always plaimed so as to include an hour or more 
 of their company. 
 
 To many her room and her couch became, what 
 the turret sitting-room was to the elder generation, 
 who had gone to it to find "Amit Dot." Lady Victoria 
 had always a 'great disHke to closing her door against
 
 182 "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 any incursions from the young. She loved that they 
 should seek that sympathy which was so keen and 
 vivacious, and she enjoyed the comments, criticisms, 
 and even the instruction which the young people 
 were so ready to bestow on her. 
 
 " So glad you are to have Lesley," she writes to 
 Lady Mary. " Do let me know about her. One 
 can't have a creature for six months, and not feel 
 like a bit of her." That was an exact description 
 of her relation to the young, whether of her own kin- 
 dred or the many young girls she mothered. 
 
 She made her mistakes with them. She trusted 
 too little in the Providence which watches over 
 " fules and bairns," and she worried herself and her 
 adopted charges to a degree which was wasteful 
 of time and energy. She never could understand 
 that children would rather suffer any physical pain 
 than be subjected to the mental torture of taking 
 care of their health : " changing their feet," and being 
 duly wrapped up. She was a curious mixture of 
 being one with them in much, and yet straining the 
 authority which parents are the first to know can 
 only be best used when least is said. 
 
 But, when the worst is said of her management, 
 there remains the fact that children loved her, because 
 her heart was in their keeping. She saw, with a 
 quick eye, the sorrows which are so hving and 
 absorbing in the days of childhood. She wished for 
 them all that had been denied to herself ; and if 
 she knew the home Ufe was happy, in that centre 
 she came oftenest to rest.
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE ^' 183 
 
 One of her nieces, Blanche Balfour, who was much 
 in her society at Inveraray as a child, and who 
 always sought her company in later years, has 
 written some words of remembrance, and they are 
 the reflection of what the young generation felt 
 about her. 
 
 "My recollections of Aunt V. begin when I was quite 
 a sm^ll child, which is probably the reason why they 
 are so mixed up with the rooms she lived in. AVhen 
 I think of her now it is never among the surroundings 
 of later years, but always I see her lying on her 
 sofa in her sitting-room at Inveraray, as she used to 
 be when we came to spend the hour before luncheon 
 with her. The sofa had a pattern of pink-and-white 
 roses on a black ground, a thing entirely satisfying 
 to the sesthetic taste of ten years old, and beside it 
 was the little table heaped with books, and her 
 writing-pad covered with sheets upon sheets of letter 
 paper scrawled over with her marvellous untidy 
 writing. That had always to be shoved on one side 
 when she held out both her hands to us as we came in. 
 Then — " Come away, dear httle people," she always 
 said, and we settled down beside her to thread 
 bead necklaces for the Blantyre Mission. She was 
 by way of reading aloud to us then, and sometimes 
 did, but generally conversation was so absorbing 
 that it lasted all the hour. Then, as ever after- 
 wards, she seemed the person of all others to whom 
 one wished to tell everji^hing one had been doing. 
 I never met in anyone else quite the same intense 
 keenness of interest in all that concerned one. It
 
 184 "AND THEY WAKENED THE MEN 
 
 never failed. It was there for everyone whom she 
 loved, it made talking to her one of the most exciting 
 things in the world. I do not think I ever heard her 
 say a dull thing, nor ever remember having been bored 
 for a single second in her company. Such an intense 
 force of vitality as hers was bound, of course, to fling 
 itself sometimes against other people in a way that 
 produced friction. I always loved Aunt V. intensely, 
 sometimes I did more, I adored her. But often in 
 those years she irritated me madly. But when I look 
 back now at the incidents of hfe with her I see that 
 the mistakes she made were simply the defects of 
 her magnificent c^uahties. It was her grip on hfe, 
 her power of living it, down to its very depths, 
 that led her to make too much of things which 
 she might have let slide. She was so devoured with 
 the wish to do right, so conscious of the responsibihty 
 of influence which her older life might have on the 
 young lives so near her heart, that sometimes 
 she made one feel that she fussed. I have told 
 her so. Even at such moments it was always possible 
 to say anything to Aunt V., and I shall never forget 
 the look of distress which came over her face, the 
 earnest, perplexed gaze in her eyes. 
 
 She had a boundless sympathy for young people, 
 and dehghted in their friendship. Probably one of 
 my most dehghtful memories of her would surprise 
 most of her friends very much. I used to go into her 
 bedroom at Inveraray when she was dressing for 
 dinner, and choose the jewellery that she was to put 
 on that night. My recollection is that this amused her
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 185 
 
 quite as much as it did me ; anyway, she always put 
 on whatever I chose, and we used to spend immense 
 pains in finding things that matched each other 
 and went well with her gown. Then, as we turned 
 over the things in the box, she used to tell me about 
 their owners and their givers. The big, early Vic- 
 torian lockets, which had hair inside them, or mono- 
 grams^ twisted on their vast expanses, were 
 foundations for familv histories, which she made 
 extraordinarily alive and interesting to a child's 
 mind. We used to go into shouts of laughter together 
 over all sorts of things. She laughed gloriously — 
 helplessly and infectiously. 
 
 All this was quite in my early days, before I was 
 twelve. It was later on that Frank and I went to 
 f stay with her in Tiree. Though I was only there once, 
 and that in August, which was not her busy time 
 in the islands, with no programme of daily work of 
 meetings and classes hke her winters had, still, it 
 happened that I had a chance of seeing something of 
 what her hfe there was. When one had seen it, 
 very Uttle imagination was needed to reahse what 
 it might have been for any person who had less 
 driving force within them. 
 
 But she dehghted so much in adventure that the 
 shortcomings and difficulties of hfe were always full 
 of possibiHties. Her spirit rose to meet them, like 
 a cork upon the waves. We travelled with her, 
 at the end of our visit, all of us going together to 
 Jura, where Uncle George had a house that year. 
 No boat goes naturally from Tiree dii'ect to any
 
 18G "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 landing-place in Jura, but this circumstance only 
 gave Aunt V, an opportunity for one of the elabor- 
 ate plans which her soul loved. " Lmks," she 
 used to call them. Anyone who knew her methods 
 and heard her open a conversation with that word 
 knew quite well that no apparent impossibiUty would 
 deter her from accomplishing her desire, whatever it 
 might be. If one was destined to take one's share 
 in forging the chain one might as well acquiesce at 
 once, for there would be no hope of escape. 
 
 It was so upon this journey. She decreed that the 
 passenger steamer, on which we left Tiree, should 
 cast anchor in the middle of the Sound of Jura, to 
 allow us to get oil to a row-boat, which Uncle George 
 would cause to be in waiting at the appointed place. 
 I recollect the turmoil of correspondence which 
 preceded this decision, and the triumphant arrange- 
 ment at the end. When the day came for us to leave 
 Tiree it was pretty rough, and we had to wait a long 
 time for the boat to come, and had a really bad time 
 getting on board when she did. Amit V. was half 
 carried over a long stretch of shppery seaweed by 
 two sailors ; we walked behind, with the maids, 
 who screamed and thought they were going to shp. 
 Aunt V. turned round and told them not to be 
 idiotic, then winked at us, and burst out laughing. 
 It was on that sort of occasion that one felt one would 
 like to go to the world's end with her. She was 
 splendid in a crisis, especially if it involved some sort 
 of personal risk to herself. I beUeve she enjoyed 
 these occasions so enormously that she was really
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 187 
 
 disappointed when things went uneventfully, and she 
 had a knack of stirring up storms too. I am sure the 
 wind always blew when she was out. On this particu- 
 lar day it certainly did. The sea got rougher and 
 rougher, and after we had passed lona the Captain 
 came to Aunt V., who was sitting on deck covered 
 with innumerable shawls, and told her that he was 
 doubtful about the possibihty of stopping in Jura 
 Sound unless the wind fell. But that was not a point 
 on which any doubt could be allowed, and so she told 
 him at once. He was wise enough not to argue 
 and retired. 
 
 In the Sound there was a perfect hurricane, and 
 a great deal of swell. We saw the boat sent out for 
 us far to the southward of the steamer, having been 
 swept there by the current, and quite unable to make 
 her way back to us against it. The captain re- 
 appeared, and again told Aunt V. that we could not 
 stop, and that he nuist take us on. She looked at 
 him sternly, and drew his attention to Uncle George, 
 who could be dimly seen across the heaving waters, 
 gesticulating wildly upon the pier. " Do you see 
 Lord George ? " said Aunt V. " I shall not leave 
 him. You must wait." The wretched man obeyed. 
 We all watched the little boat breathlessly. 
 
 Passengers, till now unseen, came out from hiding- 
 places, and seemed to wish to know the reason of 
 delay. Aunt V. paid no attention to them at all. 
 
 The boat had given up trying to get back to us 
 direct, but went under the shelter of the shore, till 
 she was above us, and made another effort to be
 
 188 "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 swept down to us. But she failed again. Things 
 were getting rather serious. More than half an hour 
 had passed. The captain collected all his courage, 
 and came and told Aunt V. that if he did not go on 
 soon he would not be able to land his passengers 
 in time for the London train. 
 
 Aunt V. lent a very favouial)le ear to this argu- 
 ment, and told him that if the row-boat failed in the 
 third attempt to reach us he might go on. Then he 
 tried to point out that even if she succeeded 
 it would be impossible for Aunt V. to get on board 
 her in such a sea. Then Aunt V. became really angry. 
 She withered him absolutely. She told him not to 
 talk nonsense. To my intense rehef it became clear 
 at this point that the little boat was getting along- 
 side. Soon she was grappled to the steamer. I don't 
 know to this day how they did get Aunt V. safely 
 down the ship's side and into the boat without an 
 accident. I have heard it said that it was possible 
 for the sailors to do ahnost an}i:hing with her, because 
 she had such nerve and presence of mind, and the 
 confidence of perfect courage. 
 
 Anyhow, by the time my turn came to be helped 
 down I saw her safe in the boat far below, a bundle of 
 wraps, and a beaming face, looking up. Once more 
 she had brought oil' the impossible. She, a woman 
 and a cripple, was safe at her journey's end, under 
 circumstances in which many a strong man would 
 have submitted to be landed Hke a sheep in Greenock, 
 and taken no shame to himself for it. 
 
 It is when one remembeis such scenes that one feels
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 189 
 
 that the world is a duller place since she left it. 
 But she would not have wished that feeling to remain. 
 She found nothing dull. She went through life with 
 a brave and merry heart, not stumbling over the rough 
 places in her own path, and quivering always with 
 eagerness to help other people over theirs. How 
 often she did so no one of us will ever know. Her life 
 had so many threads, such wide interests, and so 
 diverging. But though no one now can gather them 
 all up, or see her completely as she was, we all, who 
 knew her, from whatever angle it may have been, 
 can agree in this, which was said to me lately by an 
 old woman at Inveraray. (IMrs. Campbell, who used 
 to Uve at Kenmore.) I told her that my mother was 
 ^vriting about Aunt V.'s hfe. 
 
 "Ah, well," she said, " she's right to try it, and 
 maybe she'll make it good. But I ken fine this, 
 that it'll never be as good as Lady Victoria was herself. 
 We shall never see the Uke of her again." 
 
 The year 1885 ends with this back^-ard glance : — 
 
 This election recalls the words, " Men's hearts 
 failing them for fear," and never did one feel so 
 utterly ignorant as to what a day may bring forth. 
 
 It is long since we have been so many together 
 at Inveraray at this time. The xVrchie and Balfour 
 children have been a great pleasure. 
 
 The year of " being free for the islands " dawned 
 with 188G. The diary of the months between January 
 and August are full of the busy, and, on the whole,
 
 190 "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 happy life in London. Her Sundays were spent in 
 good health, and record steady attendance in the 
 churches where Dr. Saphir and " Greatheart," her 
 name for Dr. Oswald Dykes, were ministering. Her 
 wards in the Infirmary saw her regularly, and there 
 are many notices of the cases she found and never 
 left unaided. She had what had become the greatest 
 joy of her summer time: a visit to her friend and rela- 
 tive, Miss Coventry, at Mildmay ; and she " revelled " 
 in all she heard, and those she met at the Conference. 
 In ]May she writes : " Teddy (the Vicar of Ken- 
 sington), at the Devotional meeting, was upon, 
 ' ]\Iy heart is fLxed ' ; " and then follow the words : 
 " Papa worried, Tyree and Political." In July she 
 says : "A full week. One full of poUtical excitement. 
 Joy at Unionist victory. Went down early to Mary. 
 Went to Bible-reading. Struck with Teddy's con- 
 clusion : * Saving a soul from death.'" 
 
 Aug. 7th. 
 
 Long talk with P. about TjTee. A httle with 
 Frances. Sorting and arranging. Went to men's 
 ward. In garden, joined Eustace and Baffy. 
 Been a w^ek of a good deal of strain. Feel glad 
 that Tyree seems nearly settled. 
 
 Lady Victoria moved to Edinburgh, and had a 
 pleasant time there with her aunt, seeing Dr. John 
 Ker, and other friends, and then travelled with 
 Miss McNeill to Colonsay, which was then in the 
 possession of Sir John McNeill, v.c.
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 191 
 
 Aug. 24th. 
 
 Came to Colonsay. Struck with retrospect of 
 ten years. 
 
 Aug. 21th. 
 
 Mrs. Grant came. Much talk with her. Writing 
 and Gaehc. Walked on yellow beach with Ina. 
 Feel so glad to be here again. 
 
 Aug. 30th. 
 
 A good deal of Gaelic. More hopeful about 
 Tyree. Afternoon on sands with Ina. Dehghtful 
 day at Oronsay. Thinking much of past days at 
 Jura. 
 
 Sep. 3rd. 
 
 Lovely day. Came to lona from Colonsay. 
 Sick at crofter debate. Touching reception by the 
 people. 
 
 Sep. 4:th. 
 
 Quiet evening. Long boating cruise. Great 
 beauty. Mrs. Grant went to four houses. A week 
 of much enjoyment, and feel now fairly embarked. 
 Long time in the ruins. Settled for Y.W.C.A. 
 meetings. Visited village. 
 
 Sep. 9th. 
 
 Great storm. Had a talk with Ritchie. Worry- 
 ing post. Got quiet after answering them. Had 
 a good deal of talk with Miss Steinberger. A week 
 of a good deal of collapse, but intensely happy.
 
 192 "AND THF.Y WAKEND THE MEN 
 
 *SV;). 12///. 
 
 Got to the Ciitbedral in nioniinp. Betsy M'Kin- 
 iion came with flowers and shells. Crossed to the 
 Ross. F.C. Manse meeting at night. 
 
 Sep. 14///. 
 
 Came to Rimossnn. Called upon people. C.C. 
 and V.W.C.A. Settled upon Kintra. Touched with 
 the feeling of the people. 
 
 Sep. \1th. 
 
 Drove to Seoor. Called on people. A week of 
 petting through nmch. More than I could dream 
 of. Ps. 103. 
 
 In August, Lady V^ictoria had written to Mrs. 
 Macdiarmid, in Tiree, as to her intentions of visiting 
 the island. The house where she was to stay has been 
 described by the Duke, in the extracts quoted from 
 his books. Island House was hved in by the factor 
 and his family ; but whenever the Duke or his children 
 came to the island it was their residence for the time 
 they remained iii Tiree. 
 
 Mrs. Macdiarmid was already acquainted with 
 Lady Victoria, and the ties of friendship and fellow- 
 working were to be much strengthened in the years 
 that lay before them. Letters to ALrs. Macdiarmid 
 form ahnost the only material for reconstructing her 
 work in the island, for her letters to the outside 
 world contain httle detail. 
 
 Many of the exertions which she midertook, and
 
 
 1 ; . , ~ A. A una II &• Soit^ 
 
 GEORGE 8th duke OF AKCiYI.L, K.T.. K.G.
 
 Of the wild tiree" lol 
 
 most of the stomis she encountered by hind or sea, 
 she thought it prudent to say nothing about to her 
 family, and for the hfe, she would say that you 
 needed to live in the islands to understand about them. 
 Her letters, therefore, were chiefly comments on the 
 aiTairs of her family, or of the world outside her 
 kingdom ; and this biography owes a great debt to 
 Mrs. Macdiarmid for preserving the letters of one 
 whonl she speaks of as her friend and teacher. 
 Letter to Mrs. Macdiarmid : — 
 
 Aug., 1886. 
 
 Towards the end of August I hope to land on 
 Tyree, and stay at least a fortni<,dit with you in 
 Island House. I hope I may be able to set some- 
 thing on foot amongst the women and girls which 
 may occupy them for the condng autumn and 
 winter. 
 
 The Duke's principal objection to my going is 
 the ditlicultv of landing in rough weather. 
 
 I am not afraid ; but as I am going with Miss 
 McNeill to Colonsay, it has determined me all the 
 more not to shirk our own people. It is a grave 
 matter if some of the family do not come from time 
 to time and take an interest in the people, even 
 though some of them have behaved badlv. I have 
 long wished to do this, and even though I should 
 encounter an}i:hing unpleasant, there is no reason 
 now that I have the leisure that I should not 
 encounter it as well as you and your husband. 
 It will go far to show the people that, although the
 
 194 "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 Duke nuist sec that the h\w is maintained, he has 
 no unkind fooling towards them. 
 
 Owing to my ties at home, I have long hoon 
 hindored doing what I felt was a simple duty. 
 
 Again she writes to the same : — 
 
 I am in hopes, if I put oiT as long as possible, 
 the exeitement may have abated ; and 1 should 
 like the Marines away, as it might look as if I were 
 trusting to their protection. 
 
 Then, also, the reporters might leave ! 
 
 Every line written here is characteristic of the 
 writer. The Duke know her well enough to express 
 no fears, save as to the rough landing. " I am not 
 afraid," was always her answer, and she would know 
 instinctively that no " unpleasantness " would ever 
 be shown to one of her race. 
 
 There had been foolish threats of personal violence 
 among the islanders. A few of the biggest cowards, 
 men afraid of their own shadows, had threatened to 
 hang an individual from his chimney. Most of them 
 would have run away from a child carrying a dog- 
 whip. It was not the attitude of the mass of the 
 people, and was of course injudiciously advertised 
 by those reporters whose absence Lady Victoria 
 greatly desired. 
 
 The brief entries from the diaries continue the 
 storv.
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE " 195 
 
 Colons AY, Sep. 1st, 188G. 
 
 Tlirec weeks since Evey's marriage. Two days 
 after it I went to Biirnliead, where 1 found Miss 
 McNeill, wlidse desolate life is left still more so 
 by the death of her old mother. As she was about 
 to return here alone I ofl'ered to come with her. 
 It seemed to be the duty, and, as it has turned out, 
 the- blessing appointed fur me. Many things 
 combined to make me feel shipwrecked when I left 
 London. It was a wrench, and a last link broken 
 (in one sense) with the old sisterhood. 
 
 I had had my wish out with my father to go to 
 the islands. 1 have such a longing to know more 
 of the Hves of these people, and see if, by some quiet 
 intiuence and intercourse brought to bear upon 
 the women and girls, something may not be done 
 to lessen the present strain. 
 
 Oh, that they could know the deep pain of it all, 
 and perceive the utter folly of all attempting to Hve 
 upon one piece of land ; but it is a large subject. 
 
 Ion A, Sunday, Sep. 12///, 188G. 
 
 What am I to say to-night, which, if all goes 
 well, will be my last in lona at this time ? I have 
 had such a happy time these ten days. I feel the 
 expression which suits me best is, " My cup run- 
 neth over.'' 
 
 My prayer has been more than answered. 
 
 Looking out on the Sound, across it to-night there 
 is a silver pathway. The hills and islands clear in 
 the moonhght.
 
 19G "ANT) THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 I have been longing to go into what is called 
 " The Great Harvest Field," which God seenis now 
 to be ]>iittin£T in a measure into my hands. 
 
 I never expected when I came to leave a branch 
 started of the Y.W.C.A. mnnbering twenty lona 
 girls. This gives me a greater sense that it has not 
 been of mere human arrangement. 
 
 To-day, being unable to get as far as the Free 
 Church, where the only service was being held, 
 I got away into the Cathedral by myself. 1 thhik 
 there is no place like this little island. The very 
 air seems to breathe peace. As my mother must 
 have felt when she wrote the lines : 
 
 •' lona, green lona, gem of the soft west sea, 
 IJles.sed still bo thy loveliness in lieart and memory. 
 For beautiful are still the feet 
 That once thy rou^li ways trod, 
 And the holy air is full of praj^'r 
 "Which hath been heard of God." 
 
 The first evening I arrived I went up to our 
 mother's cross. It was something to dream of. 
 The setting sun just caught the circle, while the 
 rest was in shadow. The red granite rocks, the 
 blue-green water of the Sound. The dim blue of 
 the Mull Mountains, while to the right one could 
 see the spray dashing up against the rocks. 
 
 I had heard so much of the spiritual deadness of 
 lona that, in some ways, I have been agreeably 
 sui'prised. For instance, the footing between the 
 Estabhshed and Free ministers — putting each
 
 OF THE WILD TIREE" 197 
 
 other up in their manses. The night Miss Stein- 
 berger went to the Ross to get the people's signa- 
 tures to Mr. Finlay's Bill, she slept in the Free 
 Church manse. 
 
 Surely such a spirit is more in accordance with 
 the mind of Christ than in many other places, 
 and in neither of these cases does it proceed from 
 indjflerence. 
 
 Gaelic books have been eagerly asked for here, 
 and Mrs. Grant has, I think, been a success. 
 
 Sep. 13///, 188G. 
 
 Went to the Ross of Mull. Had meeting for 
 girls in the school-house. Many older women also 
 came. I asked them to meet me the following 
 morning to speak about the clothing club, and also 
 the possibility of taking in work. Their pale, 
 eager, wistful faces told only too plainly the account 
 of their struggle with poverty was not overdrawn. 
 The distress of the people haunted me. How 
 selfish it is that it does not do so more. 
 
 Sep. Idth, 188G. Bunessan. 
 
 This has been an incessantly busy week. Con- 
 sulting with local people about Y.W.C.A. and C.C. 
 I have had two meetings with girls. Many have 
 joined the Y.W.C.A. The outburst of affection 
 from the people has been very touching. 
 
 Sep. 2lst, 1886. 
 
 Came to Tiree. Horrified at extent and depth 
 of Land League.
 
 198 "AND THEY WAKEN'D THE MEN 
 
 Sej). 22nd. 
 
 Went to see people. East end of Lsland. To the 
 Manse. Late home. 
 
 Sep. 23r(l 
 
 Mrs. McFarlano. Some daylight. Afternoon : 
 Mannal, Balcniartine. 
 
 Sep. 24th. 
 
 V^isited RaHnoc. Glorious drive to Balophetrish. 
 Struck with conversation of the men. Afternoon, 
 wrote long letter to my father. 
 
 Week of intense interest and cause for gratitude. 
 
 Sinidaj/, Sep. 2GlJi, 1886. 
 
 Mr. McRury, " Christ is our life." Sometime 
 out alone. Heard of his beautiful Gaelic service. 
 
 Sep. 21th. 
 
 Went to Buchanans, Mrs. McLean, Mrs. Wallace. 
 Some dayhght about Y.W.C.A. 
 
 Sep. 2Sth. 
 
 Long talk with Mr. ^Icllury. Wrote to Dr. 
 Story. Visited crofters. 
 
 Sep. 29th. 
 
 Dreadfully trying day. Saw Macdiarmid. Went 
 to JMrs. MacFarlane for nought. 
 
 Sep. 30th. 
 
 Went to Mrs. Mottram. Large gathering in school- 
 room. Pleasant day. People waiting on arrivaL
 
 dF THE WILD TIREE" 199 
 
 Od. 1st. 
 
 Got word boat would not be iu before daybreak. 
 Writing letters. Mrs. McLeod at night. 
 
 Oct. 2nd. 
 
 Down at Scarinish by 8.30 a.m. Long day of 
 waiting. Embarked about five. Feeling of intense 
 tliankfulness. Some anxiety on part of Dot. 
 
 Oct. 3ril. 
 
 All day on board. Sick in afternoon. Talk with 
 young Ritchie. Got to Glasgow about 11 p.m. 
 
 Oct. AtJi. 
 
 Came to Burnhcad, Liberton. Glad to be at 
 rest. 
 
 Dec. 3lst. Inveraray. 
 
 Thankful I have been to the Islands. My two 
 consecrations. 
 
 Thus, at last, the desire of her heart, the fulfilment 
 of her second consecration, had come to her. Hence- 
 forward she was to obey " the call of the blood " ; 
 her father's people claimed her Ufe and her leadership. 
 Freely she gave her life to them, and, however rough 
 were the waters through which she passed, her spirit 
 found its rest beneath the everlasting hills, and among 
 the people of her love.
 
 CllAlTKli VIII 
 
 ** THE FAIR HAVENS " 
 
 '• And ihuu, O lona, 
 Of I«land.s iiiosi bleat, 
 Wliere sainta have llicir slumber, 
 Ami kings have their rest. 
 
 " Dark StafTa broods yonder. 
 There Wacons Duni 
 To Ulva and Ixlay 
 And elorniy Tin-c. 
 
 "O i>eacc ! and O aplendour ! 
 The thoughts of the .soul. 
 Like dovea to their windows 
 Wing swift to their goal. 
 
 " The wishes oft wander, 
 The fancies may roam, 
 But here, O lieloved. 
 The heart is at home." 
 
 From 1887 to 1890 there was little change in the 
 routine of Lady N'ictoria's life. A visit to the islands 
 of about six weeks formed part of the autumn 
 campaign, and the amount she accomphshed in the 
 time and at each place, the manner in which she 
 " took up the links," and remembered individuals 
 and households, remained an astonishment to all 
 who worked with her. 
 
 The records of the journeys had often " weary " 
 written after them ; the landings had the note, 
 
 200
 
 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 201 
 
 " Long waiting on the cargo-boat ; " and those who 
 travel by Hebridean steamers know what those words 
 mean. 
 
 But the more contrary the winds and tides, the more 
 her spirits rose to the waves, and the weeks were 
 recorded as " dehghtful," and " Ps. 103 " was nearly 
 always written at their close. 
 
 In 1889 one significant line during her stay in 
 Tiree tells of the future " looking at empty house 
 with Mrs. Macdiarmid. Long talk of arrangements in 
 Island House." The Duke knew as long as she re- 
 mained with Mr. and Mrs. Macdiarmid her physical 
 comforts would be secured. A comfortable house to 
 which to return seemed necessary to those who 
 watched her fatigues. She measured her strength 
 by the amount she could put into the hours, and 
 even in these early days of her work it is not un- 
 common to find the note, " Started at 10.30 " to 
 some outlying district, and " returned 5.30." 
 
 The rest would be made in some house or cottage, 
 where the hot-water bottle for her feet, the first 
 necessity to her existence, could be replenished ; 
 she herself fed, the horse rested, and her class held, 
 or the consultation about " new openings " made. 
 
 The vehicle a two-wheeled gig, and the roads 
 a mixture of well-worn ruts, loose stones, and fixed 
 boulders ; only one track was always smooth, over 
 white sands, the tidal roadways, and they were a 
 reward for all other roughness in the goings from east 
 to west. 
 
 Lady Victoria's thoughts were always with her
 
 202 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 work. She had many centres for it, and it was a 
 marvel how she " knew the ropes," keeping them 
 separate in her mind ; and how, when she reached 
 the different ** airts," she managed to pick up all the 
 " hnks," and rivet them afresh on to her daily round. 
 
 Some extracts from her letters and reflections in 
 her diaries for the next three years, tell in her owi\ 
 words what was going on in "the land beneath the 
 waves." 
 
 Extracts from letters written to Mrs. Macdiarmid 
 at Island House, Tiree, 1887. 
 
 We will look upon the Tiree branch of the 
 Y.W.C.A. as begun in 1887. 
 
 It is a sore day for whichever section of the Church 
 it is that calls her minister, not because of his 
 qualities as such, but on account of his poHtical 
 views. 
 
 Both Established and Free ! I am quite 
 wretched about the ecclesiastical state of our 
 Highlands. We ought to be very earnest in prayer 
 that God would send an outpouring of His Holy 
 Spirit, for nothing else will alter it. 
 
 Tobermory, Sep., 1887. 
 
 What a dear Uttle place this cottage is ! I am 
 resting as much as is possible, with poor Tiree 
 weighing on my mind, as it must do. 
 
 As I left that lovely autumn morning, I could not 
 but think of the contrast between Nature's calm, 
 and the turbulent spirit swaying, alas, many of
 
 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 203 
 
 the hearts — while too many of God's children 
 forget that He requires them sometimes to be 
 '* valiant for the Truth/' and to fight. 
 
 " Truth and righteousness have perished," were 
 the words rmging in my ears. 
 
 Inveraray, Sep., 1887. 
 
 Many a time have I written to you in my heart, 
 and rejoiced to think of you being abundantly 
 fed with manna, and rivulets from the Water of 
 Life, while seeking physical health. May God 
 grant you both in rich abundance. 
 
 During the last trying weeks the thought has 
 come with a great sense of rest, that if we are 
 wholly given up to God we really shall not, cannot 
 lack anything. All will really and truly work 
 together for our good. Too often, I fear, we beheve 
 all this only in a kind of head-knowledge way. 
 
 The news that my father had another relapse 
 of gout reached me at Tobermory. I got through 
 my work there, at Oban, and in dear Httle Lismore, 
 with a tug at my heart. I did not wait at Dunstaff- 
 nage over the Sunday, but after the Lismore 
 meetmg took the 6.30 p.m. train from Oban, 
 and came on here at night. A lovely drive it has 
 been, with a brilhant starlit sky, and the night air 
 fragrant with the scent of heather, bog myrtle, a 
 general sense of greenness and frees ! 
 
 Ever since I have been immersed in home duties, 
 taking the watch by him, and seeing to relatives 
 in the Castle.
 
 204 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 The news which greeted me at Diinstaflnage of 
 the death of Dr. Matthews Duncan was a real 
 grief to me. He has been my only doctor and a true 
 friend for twelve years. I am wae to think of his 
 wife and nine bairns. 
 
 Remember the ** watered UUes," don't fight and 
 struggle about one particular class or meeting. 
 If God intends to use it, or a particular worker, 
 the way will be made plain if not easy. 
 
 Jan., 1888. 
 
 Ah ! I shall have to come and spend a winter 
 with you. I think it woukl suit me very well. 
 I think the Y.W.C.A. will overcome the Land 
 League. 
 
 Feb., 1888. 
 
 I hear you are still detained looking at the 
 uncongenial ocean. The words must be passing 
 Bweet : " There shall be no more sea." 
 
 Feb., 1889. 
 
 Your letter has been a cheer to me. I have been 
 laid aside for the last five weeks. It began with 
 an influenza, then severe neuralgia, accompanied 
 by prostration. I have known again what it is to 
 long to be up and doing, and yet kept back by 
 weakness. An old woman said to me to-day : 
 " Eh, my lady, the Lord does'na wush that we 
 should do more than we have strength for."
 
 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 205 
 
 Jukj, 1889. 
 
 I hope to set out on my travels in September. 
 I think Tobermory, Oban, perhaps lona, all want 
 me early in the month, but I am not ubiquitous. 
 I need not say I want to go where I shall find Mr. 
 Macdiarmid, if only to guard me when the L.L. 
 minister is interviewing me, and to prevent your 
 couHUg down to the quay when the weather is only 
 fit for a stormy petrel. If you don't promise me 
 not to play such pranks again, I shall have to cut 
 Tiree, and put the reason in the " Oban Times." 
 
 /Sep., 1889. 
 
 If the boat goes Friday tell your husband, D.V., 
 I go. The cargo-boat, as we know, is the best for 
 one to be thrown into, if rough. 
 
 Your husband will tell you we had a strangely 
 difficult embarkation. The swell was so unexpected. 
 Young ]Mr. McLean came out grandly in the Hght 
 of a muscular Christian, hoisting me on to the 
 ladder like a baby. 
 
 From Mull :— 
 
 There are touches of infinite comic in one's Hfe, 
 especially when, after weighing the respective 
 merits of boat and machine (to Eaiock), one is told 
 one must take the latter ; but boulders are apt to 
 come down upon one ! Then Lome telegraphs : 
 " Have you closed carriage ? " Bless his heart ! 
 I have repHed by silence.
 
 206 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 Knitter's tea. At the last moment I was told it 
 was just the women who diil not knit present. 
 
 Put your mind at rest about your secretary- 
 ship. God will send forth more labourers into His 
 Harvest when the time is ripe, and in the meantime 
 Tiree is a field wliich brings fresh to one's mind, 
 " More things are wrought by Prayer." 
 
 Oct. Qllt, 1887. 
 
 Sunday at Bunihead, Lii)erton. 
 
 A year and a half has rolled by since I last wrote 
 in this book. ^^ hat cause I have to thank God ! 
 Two expeditions to the Islands, and cstabhshment 
 of Y.W.C.A. in them. 
 
 Sq). 28M, 1888. 
 
 What a lapse of time since 1 wrote. This day 
 finds me in lona, having made a tour of five weeks. 
 Tiree, Tobermory, lona, Bunessan, again lona. 
 Strange contrast from family and home Ufe. It 
 has given me a great insight into the greater call 
 of the nussion life. One's spirit always at home, 
 and yet the poverty, the sin and suflering, and that 
 great social problem of Land Leagues, have surged 
 round me, coupled with the devotion and loyalty of 
 the people. 
 
 From her diary : — 
 
 March, 1889. Edinburgh. 
 
 I have had more than one token of blessing on 
 the work in Argyll. I felt this in the islands.
 
 tl 
 
 THE FAIR HAVENS" 207 
 
 especially in Tobermory, Ballimore, and Oban ; 
 and now, through correspondence chiefly, Strachur, 
 Lisniore, Ardrishaig, and Lochgilphead are hkely 
 to join the Y.W.C.A. 
 
 The fortnight here in the autumn teemed with 
 life and interest. There was the great tryst at the 
 Communion. 
 
 I made the acquaintance of Mr. G. Wilson, Miss 
 Farquhar Spottiswood, and Miss Elhot, originator 
 of the Fellow-workers' Union of the Church of 
 Scotland, of which I have been asked to take the 
 Presidentship. Then I got the emigration business 
 completed. A great English Society changnig its 
 name to British in order to include Scotland and 
 Ireland. 
 
 The longer Lady Victoria remained at Inveraray, 
 absorbed in her classes, or secluded in the remote 
 Highlands, the more eagerly did she look forward 
 to her " breaks " in the companionships and Church 
 services of town life. 
 
 She often used an expression, familiar to all her 
 friends, and recurring frequently in her diary, 
 " Running down the Rest." It was a saying denoting 
 a pause in strenuous exertion, and was reminiscent of 
 the posting drives to and from Inveraray. The long, 
 high pass to Loch Lomond is crowned by the inscrip- 
 tion on the mile-stone : " Rest and be Thankful," 
 and that summit attained, the post-horses of the past, 
 and the motors of to-day, " Run down the Rest " ; 
 either, as it was, to the Argyll childi'en home to Loch
 
 208 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 Fyne, or down on Loch Lomond on their way back 
 to the habitations of " white men," as Dr. Gumming 
 would call the return to the City. 
 
 At this period the spring and summer were passed 
 in London, and in both going and coming to and from 
 England, Edinburgh was a place which claimed her 
 time. Some weeks were always spent either at 
 Liberton with her aunt, or with Dr. Gumming at 
 Kinellan. 
 
 That home of rest lasted far into her days, and it 
 only closed with the death of Dr. Gmmning in 1892. 
 
 Perhaps a review of this long life is as well placed 
 at the close of its story, as it would have been in an 
 earher page of this memoir. 
 
 Lady Victoria's diaries contain many entries 
 written at Kinellan. 
 
 Sunday, Feb. 27th, 1887. 
 
 A glorious day, and when in the garden, looking 
 over to the beloved Gity with its distant hills, I 
 thought I could plead the promise : " He shall give 
 thee thy heart's desire." My two consecrations, 
 and the western highlands. 
 
 And again : — 
 
 Kinellan, March, 1889. 
 
 WTiat an oasis, a harbour of refuge, has this 
 dear home often been, with its beloved host, 
 and how good of God to bring me back once more. 
 He alone knows how weary and homesick I have 
 been for its peace and loneliness. And yet not
 
 
 THE FAIR HAVENS" 209 
 
 loneliness, for I have been feeling so keenly to-day 
 how suiToimded one is with those in whose hearts 
 are ringing the " Chimes of Eternal Peace/' 
 
 " The beloved host," Dr. Gumming of Kinellan, had 
 been the friend, and his hfe an essential fact in three 
 generations of the Campbell family. No parent could 
 stand in a closer relation than did "the long Doctor" to 
 his eal'ly charge, the Duke, and to the long succession 
 of those he was ever wont to call and to consider as 
 " my grandchildren." He hved to see the birth of 
 a large army of great-grandchildren. The warm 
 heart, the undying interest and love, never failed any 
 of the generations, and the door of his home, and all 
 that he possessed, were very hberally at their disposal. 
 
 There are many in Edinburgh who can recall the 
 familiar figure, as it went out for the daily "hurl"; 
 the open carriage, the grey horses, and the well- 
 known figure of the driver, WilHam Peck ; m the 
 corner, a little bent to one side, the thin figure of 
 the Doctor, with the heavy military cloak, and the 
 tall hat of correct Victorian fashion. 
 
 Dr. Cumming had been associated with the Duke 
 in his early youth, having travelled the grand tour as 
 his medical adviser and guardian, while Dean Howson 
 was his tutor. 
 
 In a story, long out of print, called " The Highland 
 Nurse," the Duke gives his early impressions of this 
 remarkable man. He was with his father. Lord John 
 Campbell, at Ardencaple Castle, when he heard the 
 rapid approach of a vehicle.
 
 210 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 " Look out," said my father. " Who's that ? " 
 
 " I see nothing," I reported, " but part of a big 
 black portmanteau with only the word ** Captain " 
 in large white letters on a bit of it." " Captain ? " 
 said my father. " Who can it be ? Run to the 
 hall, and see what you can see." The front door 
 bell had been rung, and an old soldier-servant of 
 my father's, named McVicar, was issuing from a 
 subterranean pantry, strugghng to get his arms into 
 a more seemly coat than that in which he had been 
 at work. 
 
 On his opening the door I could see a gig, and in 
 it, seated beside the driver, there was a tall man, 
 much muffled up in cloaks, with a hat pressed down 
 upon his forehead : under the brim of this hat there 
 projected a long and strongly marked hooked nose. 
 The chin was retiring, so that the prominence of 
 the upper organ was all the more accentuated. 
 Long and bushy eyebrows hung over eyes which were 
 small and penetrating. Fixing them on McVicar, 
 when he appeared at the door, the stranger said : 
 " Is the Laird at home ? " 
 
 This question was put in such a voice as I had 
 never heard, and find it difficult to describe. It 
 was not only a deep bass, but a bass with a powerful 
 metalhc ring in it, like a trombone. It seemed to 
 throw into vibration the whole air of a somewhat 
 lofty hall. Every cavity seemed to take up the 
 resonance, and, as in the case of some of the 
 deepest organ notes, a tremulous vibration was 
 communicated even to the floors.
 
 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 211 
 
 Riveted to the spot on which I stood, my 
 surprise was, in another moment, intensified by 
 its effect on my father. " The Captain," I heard 
 him shoutuig in the worksliop behind me, and the 
 exclamation was followed by the noise of falling 
 tools, as if, in his surprise, he had forgotten his 
 usual careful handling of all his implements. 
 
 The Captain had stepped down from the gig, 
 and was just entering the doorway when my father 
 met him. Such a handshaking I had never seen, 
 whilst the Captain's face exhibited a new feature. 
 When he smiled, the smile was on a mouth of 
 miusual breadth, and exhibited a set of teeth 
 perfect in their regularity, and tremendous in their 
 size and strength. " Oh, Laird," he kept repeating 
 in the same tremendous voice, as he shook my 
 father's hand, with a shake which seemed as if 
 it would never end. 
 
 I had now time to take fuller observation of this 
 mysterious Captain, when all his cloaks had been 
 thrown otT, and his comforters from romid his 
 throat, and when his hat had been, last of all, 
 removed and deposited with his gloves on the table 
 in the hall. He was above six foot in height, with 
 long, thin legs, rather knock-kneed ; his shoulders 
 were sloping, his neck was long, and his brow high, 
 leading up to a dome-shaped head, clad with long, 
 but scanty hair. 
 
 Thus the Duke recalls vividly to the generation 
 that knew him, the figure which for half a century was
 
 212 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 associated with Edinburgh. The return thus described 
 was from India, where Dr. Gumming had been a 
 surgeon in the service of the East India Company. 
 All that part of his Ufe was far behind, when the 
 grandchildren realised " Docky " as part of their 
 existence. Kinellan belonged to Sir James and 
 Lady Cox, the sister of Dr. Cumming. He had his 
 room in their house, and his guests were always 
 welcome to Lady Cox. After their death, Kinellan 
 was left to the Doctor, and there his long life closed 
 in 1802. Soon after his return from India he was 
 totally paralysed in both legs, and could only accom- 
 plish walking with the greatest difficulty. The Duke 
 gave him a house on Loch Baa, in Mull, where he 
 was able to practise the ruling passion of his existence, 
 the art of the angler. " Tusoulum, by Lake Regillus," 
 was the Mecca of many an angler, and the rest- 
 house of numerous guests. Far and wide was the 
 circle of the Doctor's friends, and in the little house 
 by the loch, beneath the shadow of Ben Mohr, there 
 was much of the simple life and joyous hohday 
 existence. 
 
 At Kinellan, Lady Victoria had the society of all 
 that was best in Edinlnirgh. Thither came Dr. John 
 Ker, a near neighbour and friend ; and Sir Arthur 
 Mitchell the intimate friend and companion of the 
 Duke in his cruises and researches. There, came the 
 Docky 's minister, "Lang Tam," the great Dr. Guthrie, 
 Colonel Yule, or " Marco Polo," while Dr. MacGregor 
 brought the cheer of his presence, after he had learnt 
 to know Kinellan, tlnough his life at Inveraray.
 
 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 213 
 
 It was a centre of varied interests, and the simple, 
 pious life of the old Doctor could not but tell on all 
 the grandchildren, lie had the ways of a niihtary 
 martinet, which presented a curious contrast to the 
 peculiarly soft heart, of which the grandchildren 
 knew well how to take advantage. " I'll garr you 
 do it," met all defiance. Punctuahty he had drilled 
 into his fii'st pupil by the application of " cold pig " 
 in the face of the sleeper, and it was not a forgotten 
 remedy when the young generation " slept in." 
 Dr. Johnson and Robbie Bmiis were instilled into 
 the minds of the children, and they knew Rasselas, 
 and learnt the passage on lona by heart, stinmlatcd 
 by alternate threats and tips. The Doctor never 
 passed the Scott monument without a mihtary salute, 
 and no one reared and instructed by him can to-day 
 pass that spot with a clear conscience, unless they 
 have given some outward token of respect to the great 
 man they were taught thus to reverence. 
 
 The Duke used to say that Dr. Gumming had Hved 
 through the Disruption, and had never been able 
 to grasp what it was all about, or to attach any 
 significance to the dispute. In the hottest days of 
 the conflict he would bring together men of the 
 divided camps, and utter some bombshell remark, 
 which showed both the innocence of his heart and his 
 ignorance of the wordy warfare. The deep piety 'of 
 his reUgion was unable to grasp ecclesiastical strife. 
 His Bible and the prayers of Dr. Johnson were ever 
 at his side, and Sunday by Sunday he was a reverent 
 worshipper m the Church of St. John.
 
 214 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 Unlike Lady Emma's house, his was the meeting- 
 place of men of all schools of thought, and the grand- 
 children can look back and bless the years that 
 brought them into " a large place," and gave them 
 the memory of a life so full of simple faith and the 
 best wisdom of the world. 
 
 Probably her infiniiity, akin to his own, made 
 " the V.C," as he called Lady Victoria, among those 
 the Doctor loved most dearly. Whenever possible, 
 Kinellan was her place of abode, and the days always 
 contained hours spent in reading or playing chess 
 with " the beloved host," and rejoicing in the friends 
 who came in to see the Docky, happy in the company 
 of his ever-welcome guest. 
 
 In 1888 Dr. Saphir retired from his public ministry 
 in London, and two years after Lady Victoria was 
 to lose this pastor and friend of her Ufe. Somewhere 
 about the same date, she notes the farewell sermon 
 of " Greatheart," and the cords which bound her to 
 two ministries were loosened. 
 
 In 1889 the name of Dr. Donald Macleod is entered 
 in her journals, and in close proximity to his name 
 appears the famiUar word Gaehc. The acquaintance 
 begun with a "Macleod," meant at once another Gaelic 
 instructor. Dr. Donald Macleod has kindly written 
 his recollections of his fiiendship with Lady Victoria. 
 
 " In 1888 she became a member of St. Columba's 
 Church, and it may be fairly said that it was from 
 this time that she began to take such prominent 
 part in the Life and Work of our Church, in Scotland 
 as well as in London.
 
 ''THE FAIR havens;* 215 
 
 " Our personal friendship began with her repeatedly 
 expressed desire, as she put it to me, ' to know 
 Gaelic thoroughly/ It was then that I found out 
 the secret of a life that could brave so much, and 
 accompUsh so much, in the face of hindrances and 
 difiiculties which would have disheartened and 
 baffled many others. With a purpose that seldom 
 allowed interference, she set herself, at once, to the 
 task she had undertaken. 
 
 " For six months, two hours were devoted daily to 
 her * Gaehc lesson.' Once a week she reported 
 progress to her ' Revd. Tutor,' as she styled me, 
 and on her return to Scotland so faithfully did she 
 continue her GaeUc studies that in a wonderfully 
 short time she was able to speak and read and write 
 the language. 
 
 " I remember once saying that I preferred her Gaelic 
 letters. She rephed with a very meaning smile, 
 ' I can believe it.' If the Gaelic was not written 
 plainly it would have been a hopeless busmess to 
 decipher. The EngHsh did not require so much 
 pains in writing, though the cost might be more 
 in readmg. 
 
 " Lady Victoria learned their * tongue ' as she de- 
 termined, for she knew that in this way she would 
 reach the hearts of her islanders as otherwise she 
 could never do. And it was not in vain, for among 
 these islands of Argyll, Lady Victoria was especially 
 esteemed and loved, and the remembrance of her 
 kindly and helpful interest will be long and fondly 
 cherished.
 
 216 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 " Lady Victoria needed to be kno^^Tl to be under- 
 stood. There was a side of her character and hfe that 
 many, even of her friends, never seemed to find out. 
 She was not without fauHs, but no one knew it better 
 than herself. She was not apt to confess mistakes, 
 but she felt them, and did not forget them. She was 
 sometimes impatient with others, but she never 
 spared herself. She might say the word not too 
 well considered or too gently put, but a * Celt of the 
 Celts,' she was a warm-hearted woman, and a loyal 
 friend. She seldom spoke of her Christian experience, 
 but it was often plain how really she lived in the 
 presence of a personal Saviour. It was the explana- 
 tion of a faith and a courage and a hopefuhiess not 
 very common among Christ's disciples. It was the 
 secret of a service that never seemed to tire, and of 
 a devotion that grew more intense. ' Instant in 
 season and out of season.' Bent on doing ' what she 
 could.' 
 
 " Allowed to see her for a few moments, in a sickness 
 nigh unto death, after prayer that she might be 
 spared to us, she whispered to me in her weakness : 
 * If He will, perhaps I may do something more for 
 Him before I see Him face to face.' 
 
 " Some two weeks before she was taken from us 
 I saw her. She was full of the great World Mii^sionary 
 Conference which she had been attending in Edin- 
 burgh, and greatly lifted with the hope of the Union 
 of the Churches in Scotland. 
 
 " Little did I dream then that we should never 
 meet in this world again. I had promised to visit
 
 
 THE FAIR HAVENS" 217 
 
 her, ill the near autumn, in her island home, and 
 as we parted, in her own bright way she said : ' Re- 
 member you keep your tryst with me.' God had 
 ordained it otherwise. She was gone from her beloved 
 lona and Tiree, but we will keep our ' tryst ' on the 
 further., safer shore." 
 
 On one of the Sundays of the spring-time there is 
 a new entry in church attendance : " Service in Pont 
 Street, with Bally and Margaret Maclean " — this last 
 a native of Tiree, and the devoted nurse of the two 
 eldest Balfour children. She was soon to return to 
 her home, and be one of Lady Victoria's fellow- 
 workers. 
 
 From that time onwards there were to be no more 
 " wanderings " when Lady Victoria was in London. 
 St. Columba's (Church of Scotland) claimed and re- 
 ceived her full allegiance. 
 
 The old connection with CrowTi Court Church had 
 
 long ceased to exist. The ministry of Dr. Cumming 
 
 in its later periods had not satisfied the Duke, and 
 
 ' probably the distance from Ai'gyll Lodge had helped 
 
 to sever the ties which bound him to the church. 
 
 The National Church, after the Disruption, had been 
 left with '* the Kirk of the Crown," as its principal 
 representative, and its attairs were at a low ebb in the 
 years when Lady Victoria began her Church hfe. 
 She had not missed its presence, for the Enghsh 
 Presbyterian churches aroimd her had contained all 
 she needed. 
 
 The Duke had never interested himself much in 
 Church organisation, and he had taken no part in
 
 218 "THE FAIU HAVENS" 
 
 the history of the Scottish Church in London. The 
 influence of Dr. Cunnning was Hterally world-wide, 
 iind he had gathered into the ark in Covent Garden 
 ** every beast after his kind," and the Scot was by no 
 means in the majority. He might have reared a 
 church three times the size of that whose name he 
 had made famous, and had he thought of the future 
 of the Church of Scotland, and its people in England, 
 he ought to have exercised his gifts as a seer, and 
 established and settled the things that remained. 
 
 He siiw otherwise. His alTections were rooted in 
 the old church and the place, and particularly the slums 
 in which it then stood, and which he had adopted 
 for the field of his philanthropic labouis. There he had 
 preached, and there he wished to end his ministry. 
 Fortunately for the Presbyterian system of Church 
 government, the minister is but the centre of a Kirk 
 Session, and the wisdom and power of that Church 
 Court was never better exemphfied than in the de- 
 cision which brought St. Columba's Church into 
 Belgravia, and gathered a congregation of Scots 
 around itij new minister, with a name dear to the 
 hearts of all who loved the Church of Scotland. 
 Among those who became members of the congre- 
 gation was the Uuke, who came to the church after 
 Lady Victoria began the connection which was to last 
 for the rest of her hfe. Argyll Lodge passed, with the 
 death of her father in 1900, out of the number of her 
 resting-places, and Lady Victoria's visits to London 
 were more intermittent, and the times she spent there 
 were always short. \\Tierever she lodged, her first
 
 
 THE FAIR HAVENS" 219 
 
 thought was that she should not be far away from 
 the church with the name so full of every sacred 
 association in her mind. 
 
 When " Professor Pax," with energy and clear- 
 sightedness, brought into being the Guilds of Life and 
 Work to revivify the Church of Scotland, Lady Victoria 
 never rested till all the churches with which she was 
 connected had started this powerful machinery of 
 Church Ufe. 
 
 The connection with St. Columba's carried her 
 back to Crown Court, and she was in helpful relations 
 with hui\\ the ministers who succeeded Dr. Macleod 
 when he went to the Church of St. Columba. She 
 was President of the Crown Court Guild and regularly 
 adcb-essed its mothers' meetings ; when her lodging 
 for the time being was at Stafford House, her ways 
 led her, almost by tradition, to Crown Court Church. 
 ** Go," she wrote to one whom she thought slack in 
 recognition of the Scottish Church, " and see that 
 congregation of young men in the evening, and hear 
 Mr. Macrae preaching on the characters of the Old 
 Testament." She clung to the traditions of the old 
 site, and when, a quarter of a century after the 
 building of St. Columba, the old Kirk of the Crown was 
 rebuilt she was full of regrets. She desired that the 
 church furniture should be sent to her for her island 
 churches, and she onlv admitted the renovation 
 was right when she entered for the first, and 
 as it proved, the last time, the newly dedicated 
 building. 
 
 In the new chui'ch, among the monuments of the
 
 220 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 long past, tho women of the congregation have 
 raised a Moniorial to her, designed by her friend, 
 Mr. Ritchie, of lona. It has the only inscription 
 in till' (Jaelic language among the churches of 
 London. In the archives of Crown Court her name 
 is placed as a baptized member of the Church of 
 Christ. 
 
 None of the congregations of the National Church 
 with which she was connected could claim an exclusive 
 position in her alTections. At Edinburgh, in St. Giles, 
 Si. Cuthl)ert's, and St. Michael's, her presence was a 
 familiar sight. Her love of all music, but especially 
 good Church music, was intense, and she felt the 
 inspiration of beautiful architecture. " I wear}' for 
 the beauty of St. Giles, after our Highland barns," 
 she would say ; and when in London, the daily service 
 in Westminster Abbey, where : — 
 
 " Tho or;^,in rings 
 And the swcft • '■ .Ir <)in(*H 
 Alung tho cm; 1 wall," 
 
 was a treat she gave herself as often as she could 
 manage to go. 
 
 There is no greater mistake than to nnagmc her 
 an intolerant Presbyterian. She had seen too much 
 of bigotry and ignorance in AngUcans and Presby- 
 terians not to banish it in herself. She was a frequent 
 worshipper in the early Conmiunions of the Church 
 of England when in London, or when she could not 
 get that service in her own church. One of her joys 
 was " to keep the great tryst " at the Easter obser- 
 vance of the Lord's Supper in St. Giles, and it was
 
 "THE FATR HAVENS" 221 
 
 Irt deep regret to find herself in her hist year in 
 London, at Eastertide, with no Communion service 
 in St. Cohmiba. The desire she then expressed 
 helped Dr. Fleming to mstitute the keeping of the 
 feast, and since her death the Easterday celebration 
 has become the established custom. 
 
 Her attitude was one of loyalty and not of preju- 
 dice. She believed for herself, and for all those 
 who were privileged to be Scots, that the National 
 Church was the one they should uphold, and live 
 under its organisation and discipline. She knew its 
 history. The blood of its martyrs was drawn from 
 her own race ; and by every tie patriotic, patriarchal, 
 and clannish, she clung to its landmarks and its 
 services. 
 
 Fuilunately, loyalty hi Presbyterians leads to no 
 narrowing of the channels of grace. For them the 
 gates are open in all the Reformed Churches, and 
 Lady Victoria found her s})iritual food quite as often 
 in the liturgy of the Church of England, and in the 
 thoughts of the Church Universid,as in the Church of 
 her fathers. 
 
 "Ah me ! " she writes to Lady ^Liry at Peter- 
 borough, " what a golden link it is which binds strong 
 fibres of one's heart to our mother's Church." 
 
 As well used as her Bible and her Psalm-book 
 were Keble's Christian Year, the Confessions of 
 St. Augustine, the Imitation of Christ, the works 
 of St. Francis of Sales, and Dean Goulburn. 
 
 The year 1890 has the words : *' Island of Tiree 
 quieted down. A good earnest minister appointed."
 
 9<X> 
 
 "TIIK FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 The story of her life is host contimiod by extracts 
 from lior letters to Mrs. Miudiarniid and others. 
 
 Feb., 1890. 
 
 -My thoughts have many a time pone out to 
 you and the wihl Tiree, especially since I narrowly 
 escaped heinp wrecked in the Firth of Clyde about 
 a niontli ago. It was that fearful Saturday, with 
 hiph tides. Lord I^jrne had asked mo to join him 
 at Kosneath. After two 8UCco8«ive boats had tried 
 in vain to make for the submerged pier of Kil- 
 creggan, we had to put back, amid such remarks 
 as : " Think yourself fortunate if you got to 
 (Jourock. It will be all right if the paddle-wheels 
 hold out." I longed for the sturdy " Dunara," 
 or " ilebridoan." Made up my mind what to do. 
 Went of! to Dr. Hugh McMillan and wife in 
 (treonock. My maid and I arrived 8 p.m., just 
 when the gale was at its height, and pleaded for 
 admittance, and a right royal welcome they gave 
 me. Such a delightful Sunday, and such sermons. 
 I felt indeed I had been brought into the haven 
 where I fain would be ! I joined liorne next day 
 at Kosneath. My conduct by him was voted 
 " plucky." My father said : " Monstrous," as he 
 was against my starting. I don't quite know 
 which version to take. 
 
 April 1890. 
 
 I heard Dr. Norman Macleod the other day ; 
 it was a feast ; and if he accepts this call to Inver-
 
 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 223 
 
 iiess it will bo a groat strongth to our ChiirflK l»iit, 
 i)ottor still, tho oaiiso (»f iho ]\Iastor. 
 
 loNA. Any., 1 890. 
 
 1 walked up to my niothor's cross yesterday 
 overling, with the sotting sun lighting it and the 
 grey old Cathedral. 1 folt calmed and rofroshod. 
 
 A«>r., 1890. 
 
 I have a groat wish to winter some dav in Tiroo. 
 
 1891. 
 
 I have oiiorod Colin again to go to India, hut 
 thoro is a talk of his coming homo. Somehow, 
 during these last weeks when 1 think I have 
 honestly hoon seeking Clod's guidance, it comes 
 clearer and clearer to me that 1 may be free and 
 willing to spend the winter in Tiree. Now, don't 
 have a fit ! 
 
 You see, I feel there is a wide sphere for women's 
 work. 1 could see, at all events, if one could 
 organise and help. 
 
 June, 1891. 
 
 My father has actually agreed, without any 
 demur, to let me try Tiree. I can read between 
 the hues ; he thinks I shall not persevere. 
 
 My hope and desire and intention is to stay in Tiree, 
 at all events, four months, dating from November. 
 
 Remember, if I have a fire-place which smokes 
 not more than needful, a sofa, a tolerable bed,
 
 224 "THE FAIR ]IAVENS" 
 
 means of getting a hot ])ottle, it is all the luxuries 
 I need. 
 
 If I had the language, the health, earlier training, 
 I would have gone further afield for mission work. 
 
 AVili this (juiet you ? Prevent you thinking 
 I require all the flesh-pots of Egypt ? 
 
 The " hope and desire " with Lady Victoria always 
 meant that action followed, and in 1891 the residences 
 in difYerent houses began, till at last the Lodge was 
 enlarged, and settled on her as a permanent home. 
 
 The first house which she rented was at Balemar- 
 tine, a townshij) in the west end of Tiree ; it was near 
 the mass of the people, and it was easy to gather 
 her classes round her. In it she lived the four winter 
 months, and they were among the very happiest that 
 she ever spent on the island. In returning, in after 
 years, to sec her landlady Mrs. Sinclair, she would bring 
 her friends to see ** the dear wee rooms." It was a 
 two-storied house, with a very steep stair up to her 
 bedroom, but such ditliculties as these were only 
 made hght of. In the kitchen department Knowles 
 was to begin her long series of culinary successes, 
 without all the implements which she had seen in the 
 kitchen and still-room of Lady Victoria's home. 
 If there was sometimes too much of the spirit of 
 ** ]\Iartha " in Lady Victoria's works for others, she 
 had none of it as a housekeeper for herself. 
 
 She had one or two simple " fads," as she called 
 them, but if the barrel of meal was full for her friends, 
 and the cruse of hot coffee always running for herself
 
 
 CROSS OF KI.IZAHETH. DICHESS OF AKlJYLL. lOXA. 
 
 rhelo] 
 
 [ yatentine Gr Sons. 
 
 K'XA CATHKDKAL.
 
 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 225 
 
 and guests, she made very light of the difficulties of 
 store-room and larder, which perplexed the soul of 
 the imiversal provider downstairs. Knowles was 
 to be in far less comfortable quarters before her 
 pilgrimage had ended. If Lady Victoria desired to 
 remain in a district in any of the islands which she 
 visited, there she was determined to find that the 
 available houses were quite suitable for her. In one 
 region there exists an amusing correspondence between 
 her and the factor. 
 
 Negotiations had been begun by her for a cottage 
 with no water supply, no sanitation, and to which 
 there was no road which any vehicle could use. 
 
 The factor pointed out in a letter all these defects, 
 combined with what he thought a demand for a 
 rent which was out of proportion to the amenities 
 of the place. " The house is surely too much of a 
 toy house for yoiu* ladyship ? " 
 
 The letter is endorsed in her own handwriting : 
 ** And where is Lady Victoria to go if not to toy- 
 houses ? " To this there was no answer, and the 
 tenant took possession. 
 
 In engaging her maids, she would always laugh- 
 ingly inform them that they must be prepared to 
 live in "a castle, a manse, a cottage, or a town 
 lodging." 
 
 And as she " turned to," and accommodated herself 
 with infinite pleasure to all varieties of dwellings, in 
 like manner she expected the same joyous acceptance 
 on the part of her servants. They did not all enter 
 into it with the sense of humour and enterprise with 
 
 Q
 
 22G "THE FAIR 1IA\T:NS " 
 
 which, in one house, Knowlcs ascended a perpen- 
 dicular ladder to her bedroom. 
 
 It was while happy, in at least having got her 
 own way as to winter quarters, that Lady \'ictoria 
 made a short attempt at keeping a full diary. The 
 few pages that she wrote makes it the more regrettable 
 that it was not kept up longer. She never thought 
 of her own doings as of interest, and her powers of 
 keen observation were of too minute a nature to make 
 it easy after the exhaustion of the day's enterprises 
 to write of them in detail. 
 
 Diary for Tiree. Winter, 1891-92. Nov. 21th. 
 
 A letter from my father two days ago revealed 
 to me how very remiss I have been " in taking 
 observations " about things they wish to know 
 about, bird life, etc. 
 
 The chief reason of this has been the sense of 
 pressure of time, until I get all the classes for girls 
 fairly set in motion before the weather breaks up. 
 Up till now it is true, as the people jnit it : " I 
 have been very fortunate " in this. We have had 
 one storm from the south-east, which prevented 
 the mail-boat reaching us on the day she left 
 Oban ; but by dint of anchoring in Gott Bay, 
 she managed to call the following day and land the 
 mail-bag. Five young men went out to her when 
 it was scarcely daybreak. Something on the ship's 
 side caught the little boat and capsized her. All 
 five were saved, although none could swim. One 
 was the sou of the old pilot MacDonald, who has
 
 ''THE FAIR HAVENS" 227 
 
 another one lying very ill with abscess in the region 
 of the lung. The doctor, the only medical help in 
 the island, is laid up with an injured knee, unable 
 for the last week to go to anyone. 
 
 I think his last visit was to Mr. Campbell of 
 East End Manse, who died very suddenly on the 
 21st, at midnight. 
 
 He has been minister for thirty years, but for 
 the last ten totally bedridden. When the messenger 
 came to the ^loss Cliurch with the news, I had a 
 strange sensation which I fed can never pass 
 away. 
 
 There was a little crowd waiting to see me get 
 into the Buckboard, not yet quite accustomed 
 to the sight of it, nor of the small occupant. I was 
 much shocked when, at last, I caught the name of 
 who it was who had gone away, for I had been with 
 him the previous Monday, and he was so affection- 
 ate, and gave me such a hearty grip of the hand 
 in leaving, that I little thought that the end was so 
 near. I told him and his sisters I would try and 
 go to him every ten days or fortnight. There was 
 "a hush " among the people, as there was to-day. 
 
 I was nmch struck with the scene at the fimeral. 
 An ideal winter's day, with gorgeous snowy clouds 
 here and there, while the whole outhne of the other 
 islands was clear, the Mull hills covered with snow. 
 
 The sun shone out on the mass of men gathered 
 round the coffin, which was placed on chairs outside 
 the Manse, while Mr. McLean, the parish minister 
 of Hyhpol, gave an earnest GaeUc address, which
 
 228 "THE FAIR IIA^T.NS " 
 
 I was glad to find 1 could " take up," more than 
 I have been able to do on the two Sundays I have 
 had as yet. Then he read the 90th Psalm, 
 and Mr. Hector McKinnon prayed ; one felt it 
 was a prayer which carried the people with him. 
 The proof of this was emphatically given in the 
 almost involuntary " Amen," unfortunately too 
 little heard in our Scottish silent gatluTings. 
 
 The two sisters, Mrs. Wallace and Mrs. McLean, 
 with her husband, stood at the head, and after the 
 prayer the coilin was beautifully hfted by Mr. 
 Macdiannid, the two ministers, Mr. M( Kay, of the 
 Free Church, and in this way it woulil be carried 
 by relays to the Kirkapol Churchyard. The women 
 followed for a little way, while I turned back into 
 the dark, dreary Manse. Tlu^ (Jaehc servant 
 busied herself about me, most touching in her 
 attentions ; but I felt, after that long stand and 
 the stony feeling which always comes upon me 
 on such occasions, as if all strength was gone, and 
 I hurried away as soon as Archie brought round 
 the Buckboard. The lovely drive home was 
 refreshing, right into the sea across the sandy 
 bay, as the tide was coming in fast. 
 
 The said Archie produced a revulsion of feeling at 
 my cottage door so that I nearly laughed. Looking 
 at the Uttle bracelet watch, which I put upon the 
 Buckboard to keep him punctual, he said : " All 
 the Funerals were looking at the watch," meaning 
 the men who had come to the funeral. I got in, 
 too tired to think of much else but the sofa, hot
 
 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 229 
 
 water to the feet, and tea. I got my cold a little 
 worse, and I was indoors till Wednesday, 18th, 
 which was wet and stormy. I only knew after- 
 wards, when the old pilot MacDonald came to 
 see me, that we had narrowly that day escaped a 
 tragedy. 
 
 The accident to the boat which went out to the 
 steamer has led to a fresh agitation alx)ut having 
 the pier. Two-thirds of the money has been pro- 
 mised by the Government as a grant. When at 
 DunstalTrage, Colonel E. Malcolm asked to see 
 me alone, and advocated the advance of the rest 
 of the capital. It is amusing, if it were not pro- 
 voking, to see the ini])li(it trust in " capital " 
 which the people have, while they abuse those who 
 have it. In the same way making use of the farms 
 to buy their stock, while at the same thne, in their 
 meetings, advocating their overthrow. 
 
 Tliis Pilot is a character. W'lien asked if the men 
 who were so desirous of a pier could give something 
 towards it, in labour at least, he said : " No, there 
 was no chance of it unless it was at II}iiish, the 
 place which would suit the fishermen. WTien I 
 said : " That is hardly a Christian view,'' he 
 promptly rephed : " Christian, or no Christian, 
 it is the fact. We can a' be Christians when we 
 like." Which statement I had to acknowledge was 
 often too true, ^^^len I said it was too bad the 
 yomig men here should not know how to swim, 
 he stoutly maintained, and gave instance after 
 instance of boats upset, all going to prove that the
 
 230 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 men who could swim were the lost ones ; those 
 who could not, the ones saved. 
 
 Here, again, it was impossible to deny the fact, 
 seeing that his ideas on the subject were drawn from 
 one or two instances in which all had clung on to 
 two young men who could swim, and so had dragged 
 them down, while the non-swimmers had naturally 
 acted on the principle of sauve qui pent, on pieces 
 of wood, or whatever came to hand. 
 
 On the 19th 1 met at Island House for tea and 
 consultation some of the working members of the 
 Y. W.C. A. We agreed to open sewing-classes for girls 
 in Moss, to be held at Island House, Coniaig, Manual, 
 Baugh, Kirkapol. This, with my Bible-class on 
 Friday, makes six classes. Fine for clothing club 
 and Foreign Mission works. I have, since that 
 meeting, spoken to seventy-nine girls, all keen and 
 eager to join. I feel the workers all too few, 
 although one great diilerence between this and 
 
 is the way in which there seem several so 
 
 willing, only waiting for guidance and organisation. 
 Another great rest is the willingness of the four 
 ministers — two Established, Baptist, and Free 
 Church, to help and co-operate. 
 
 All Saturdav, 28th, it blew hard from the south- 
 east, with torrents of rain. No question of going 
 out. Did not see a creature except the servants, 
 but got tluough a great deal of writing. 
 
 Sunday I thought all was right for going to 
 the Moss Chmch, but a sudden gust of wind 
 propelled the Buckboard so that the shaft struck
 
 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 231 
 
 the ground, and it has split right up. I managed 
 to walk a httle later on to the Baptist Church, 
 where ]Mr. Macfarlane preached at some length in 
 English as well as in Gaelic, for the benefit of myself 
 and of Miss Martin from the lighthouse. 
 
 To-day I started in Mr. Macdiarmid's gig, as the 
 Buckboard was under repair. Then to see the 
 school people. Then tea at Margaret Maclean's, 
 and the opening meeting in young Mrs. McKinnon's 
 house, where ten girls were assembled. I got back 
 here 5.45. It was a dreich night, and as we came 
 across the reef in the dusk it seemed hkc a kind 
 of Sahara. 
 
 The larks keep up a kind of song here all the 
 winter. I saw some ringed dotterels, and heaps of 
 curlews. The golden plovers are in quantities, 
 and great flocks of starhngs. 
 
 Dec. 1st. 
 
 Raining and blowing hard from the south. No 
 mail-boat again. Only as far as Island House. 
 Began " Life of Carstares." , 
 
 Dec. 2)id. 
 
 Sent Knowles in Buckboard with messages to 
 brush olli some " Martha " cobwebs. She is working 
 beautifully, and behaving generally hke an old 
 brick. I stayed quiet till the second sewing-class 
 at Manual. About twenty-five present. Very 
 late ; seemed to think it a matter of no consequence 
 if they were at least half an hour late ; but I pro-
 
 232 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 tested, and, I think, with some efTect, as one of 
 the Bible-class arrived this evening a little before 
 six o'clock. 
 
 Dec. 3rd. 
 
 All day indoors. Wanted to send a telegram 
 in afternoon, answering a business question from 
 Edinburgh, a week old to-day. ^Vrchie tells me the 
 telegraj)h wire is broken, and even if it had not been 
 I could not have sent it, as it blew and rained too 
 hard to admit of him or the horse going. Of 
 course, the mail-boat has failed us. 
 
 Mr. Macdiarmid has sent me the Duke's statement 
 of facts about the pier question. Quite excellent. 
 It will meet the case, in showing the people he is 
 quite as willing as they are to have it. Indeed, 
 more so, inasmuch as they openly say they wont 
 assist with labour, though I believe they are 
 prepared with pier dues. 
 
 Dec. Ath. 
 
 Awoke with violent neuralgic headache. Kept 
 quiet till eleven, when I got downstairs ; and, as 
 the pain lifted after luncheon, I got to Island 
 House to begin, as I had promised, Mrs. Macdiar- 
 mid's sewing-class, she not being well this week. 
 
 The meeting was summoned at 3.30 p.m., but 
 they kept dropping in till 4.30, when I had to leave 
 for my own class. This feature of unpunctuality 
 is a great trial in island life. The evening was 
 comparatively calm, but looked as if it would blow
 
 '^TIIE FAIR HAVENS" 233 
 
 up agaiu, and so it did, but subsided again, and 
 to-day we have had " a quiet day." I walked to 
 young Miss Donald this afternoon, while the Buck- 
 board went for the Macdiarmid children, to whom 
 I intend, whenever possible, to devote Saturday 
 afternoon. It was a lovely httle walk. The sun 
 came out, blue strips of sky, and the larks singing 
 in the pecuUar winter way they have here. 
 
 Dec. lOlh. 
 
 At Hylipol Church. Not out again. ]\Ir. McLean 
 came in for tea and to discuss local work, classes, 
 etc. 
 
 Dec. llfh. 
 
 Glorious day. Visited ]\Iannal in the morning. 
 Struck with the people's gratitude for one going 
 in to see them. They are mostly parents or 
 relations of girls belonging to my Bible-class. 
 In the afternoon opened the Cornaig Y.W.C.A. 
 Mrs. iMcKinnon, the schoolmistress, tried to accom- 
 modate us in the parlour, where she had put on a 
 fire, but by the time we had sung the first hymn 
 we found we must adjourn to the school-house, 
 where we settled to hold our weekly sewing-class, 
 chiefly for Foreign I\Iissions. An Aberdonian 
 assistant teacher is the Ufe of this division. 
 
 I have been laughing over the blessing there 
 seems to be in connection with this Comaig meeting, 
 for the evening both last week and again yesterday 
 was too beautiful. Bright moonHght, with Jupiter
 
 234 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 very bright. The afterglow still hngoring, wliile 
 from a deep bank of cloud the Skerryvore Light- 
 house kept flashing out. 
 
 Visited upper Balaniartine in the morning, and 
 one there, who encourages four sons to settle down 
 with her on one small croft. I could not help it, 
 but broke out, and told one of the sons that my 
 brothers never thought of such a thing. It is a 
 typical case, for he might make his way as a 
 mechanic, being a singularly handy lad, but he 
 protested he could not live ujxjn what they gave 
 him, or would give him while being apprenticed : 
 four shillings a week. Little enough, it is true, 
 
 but I can see that M , who went to considerable 
 
 trouble about it, thinks he could have got on quite 
 well by getting plenty of meal and potatoes from 
 home. 
 
 One could cry somethnes at the do-lessness of 
 the spirit. 
 
 Here the diary breaks ofT. Hers was not the spirit 
 of do-lessness, and it was the only spirit that made her 
 inclined to cry. The keen energy of her nature could 
 never understand an unenterprising spirit in others, 
 and it caused the impatience which she felt she had 
 to restrain as what she called a besetting sm. Even 
 diary-keeping was crowded out of her time, always 
 so full of urgent calls for the moment. Nearly a 
 year elapses, and then the diary is kept for yet 
 another page or two.
 
 ^'THE FAIR HAVENS" 235 
 
 Nov. 24th, 1892. 
 
 It seems strange to be begiimmg again, after 
 a year of making the first feeble attempt at a Tiree 
 journal, but the truth is, I was too done after the 
 day's work to go on with it. The work crowded 
 upon me. The need of organisation in the Y.W.C.A. 
 besides the current work of conducting the classes 
 and visiting the people, setting on foot also mothers' 
 meetings, all seemed too much to overtake. 
 
 This year, I think, all will be easier, and I propose 
 only to enter the items of visits paid, and classes 
 attended, etc. 
 
 Landed from Bunessan on the 17th. Saw 
 iMr. Maclean that evening ; decided upon opening 
 the five Y.W.C.A. classes. 
 
 Sunday, 20th. 
 
 Ilyhpol Church. " Have faith in God," the text 
 of the sermon. 
 
 Nov. 24th. 
 
 Visited Doctor's wife. Spoke of nuise. I feel 
 this is a subject we must get settled. It is dis- 
 graceful, such a large island should be without a 
 sick-nm-se. Went after Y.W.C.A. girls who ought 
 to be in chiu'ch if not at class ! 
 
 Went to see . i\Iet with a great disappointment 
 
 here. Found she had embraced strong Plym views, 
 which I feel will, to say the least, cripple her useful- 
 ness, as she seems taken up with the thought of 
 who is fit to worship wdth. She continues with the
 
 236 "THE FAIR HAVENS" 
 
 Sunday School. It is to be hoped she will not teach 
 the children to despise the ministry. 
 
 Class at Moss. Only three present. A dreary 
 night, and it said much for the kindness of Mac- 
 donald and his sister that they gave me tea, fresh 
 hot water for the bottle, as they were not settled 
 in their house, and the chimneys were smoking. 
 
 Sunday, 21th. 
 
 At Moss Chiurch, and in Baptist church in evening. 
 
 Nm). 2Sth. 
 
 PourinfT day. Caught in regular gale returning 
 from Cornaig. Not one present, but spent time in 
 talking over Guild wiiji Margaret Maclean, and 
 getting to know Mrs. Mackinnon. Visited Mrs. 
 Wallace, who gave me tea, a Gaehc lesson, then 
 C.C. ; seven present. 
 
 The vigil of the year 1891 was kept by her alone 
 in her cottage, and she writes a brief note : " The 
 old year going out to the sound of the sea. Girls 
 meeting at Kirkapol. Leaving parcels for people."
 
 * 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 " ETIIICA " 
 
 • '* Here with her face dolh memory sit 
 
 Awhile, and wait the day's decline, 
 Till other eyes shall look from it, 
 Eyes of the Spirit'.s Palestine, 
 Even than the old gaze tenderer : 
 While hopes and aims long lost with her 
 Stand round her image side by side, 
 Like tombs of pilgrims that have died 
 About the Iloly Sepulchre.' 
 
 As early as 1891 Lady Victoria notes douii " beginning 
 pier agitation," and the diary of that winter contains 
 allusions to some of the many difliculties. The 
 need of a pier was brought home to her every time 
 that she landed, or with other passengers waited long 
 hours about the harbour of Scarinish, doubtful 
 whether the steamer would lie-to, or the cargo-boat 
 go out to meet her. 
 
 Passengers are never the first thought in the ways of 
 Hebridean steamers, and if the embarkation of human 
 beings was always difficult, and sometimes dangerous, 
 the same held good of the transit of the numerous 
 flocks and herds, which year by year had to be 
 transhipped. 
 
 The western Celt and Government departments 
 have at least one thing in common. If there are 
 
 237
 
 238 " ETHICA " 
 
 difliciilties, and difTerences of opinion as to the right 
 course, then a policy of masterly inactivity is the 
 one that they pursue. If th«' Land Loaf:^ue had taken 
 the lint' of auitatinj^ for the proper development of 
 the resources of the island, and threatened the hang- 
 ing of ollicials in the Scottish Ollice and ihe Board 
 of Trade, their agitation niiudit have served the pur- 
 pose of drawing attention to their real wants and felt 
 grievances. 
 
 Ijand Leagues seldom consider the benefit of the 
 comniunity, and the comforts of the Government 
 yacht blinded the eyes of the Secretaries of State, 
 who came over summer seas to view the Hebrides. 
 They never had to he awake through the hurricanes 
 of winter, or watch, as Lady Victoria said she did 
 from her bed, " to see the Fingal coming in on her 
 hind legs." McBrayne's steamers are run for profit, 
 and on no humanitarian or philanthropic principle. 
 Tiree was never a paying j)ort of call, and, in one 
 sense, the islanders were thankful to possess in the 
 weekly service the advantages given them. 
 
 If the tourist traffic lasted longer, or went off the 
 beaten track, no doubt steamers run to the Hebridean 
 isles would, ere now, have had more of the decencies 
 and comforts of civilisation. In the modem boats 
 these are more observed in respect of first-class 
 passengers, but the Company has much to answer 
 for in the boats they send, and the overcrowding 
 and discomfort to which they subject the girls and 
 women they convey to the mainland, for the work 
 of the fishing season. It is a yearly and regidar
 
 " ETHICA " 239 
 
 business, presumably it is one of profit, and the 
 Company consider tlie conditions under which the 
 women make their long voyages far less than they 
 would do the safe stowing of valuable stock. 
 
 However, this is a review of " McBrayne's Fleet " 
 as a whole, and not only from the standpoint of Tiree. 
 Had Lady Victoria Uved in the outer Hebrides she 
 would, no doubt, have been as urgent in levelling 
 up the standard of comfort, as she was in pressing 
 the claims of the storm-tossed natives of the islands, 
 whose transits she so often shared. If the McBrayne 
 steamers left something to be desired, she never 
 grumbled while a passenger on them. The captams 
 of that fleet were all her friends, and many a message 
 they sped for her, and many a device they used for 
 her comfort. 
 
 There is a story of one of these friends in need, 
 not unworthy of record. He had Lady Victoria on 
 board as a passenger during a night voyage. The sea 
 was rough, and the ship was rolling, as only a Hebri- 
 dean steamer knows how to roll. He remembered 
 the narrow, unprotected bunk on which she was 
 lying, and though sea -sickness rarely added to her 
 discomforts, he knew she would find it hard to retain 
 her position. 
 
 AVhen free to come down from the bridge he 
 entered her cabin, and found himself opposite the 
 laughing countenance, and the dangerous instabihty 
 of the helpless figure. " Give me hold of a rope, 
 and throw my legs after me," was a command she 
 would give the seamen, as the boat approached the
 
 240 " ETHICA " 
 
 side of the steamers. It was the same principle 
 which guided licr anxious friend. He hastily attached 
 to the low ceiling above her a pair of his braces, 
 and on their support Lady Victoria steadied herself 
 till the steamer reached more sheltered waters. As 
 her journeys were usually made m the winter, " fearful 
 tossing " was the common record, though, when she 
 could say *' a heavenly calm," it was written in 
 with great "remembrance of mercies received.'* 
 
 The mail-boat calls at Tiree, winter or summer, 
 three times a week, between five and six in the morn- 
 ing. The steamer always " passes," but there are 
 many mornings when the mails and passengers in 
 the cargo-boat cannot go out to her, and this may 
 happen for a week, or ten days in succession. Very 
 often it turns on the number of young men present, 
 and wilUng to take a hand, and with two or more 
 men at each oar, they assist the agent of McBrajme, 
 to get the boat out of the narrow straits of Scarinish 
 Harbour to the steamer. 
 
 H it were not for the voluntary aid of these men 
 half the days in the winter the island would be 
 without a mail, for the one man and a half, which 
 represent McBrajme's crew for the cargo - boat, 
 could never face alone the wind that drives a fierce 
 sea into the funnel-shaped entrance to Scarinish. 
 
 ** No one knows," she has said, " the depths into 
 which we go when the mails are not landed ; on the 
 other hand, they can never rise to the heights that 
 we reach when we know that the steamer has effected 
 their landing." Lady Victoria used to say that in the
 
 " ETHICA " 241 
 
 Lodge she had a barometer over her bed. There 
 was a special slate in the roof ; if it rattled, she 
 knew that the wind was furiously from that quarter, 
 which would prevent the steamer lying off, or the 
 boat going out to her. 
 
 There were occasions when Lady Victoria could 
 take no risks. Some imperative call from her family 
 had reached her, or she wished to keep " the great 
 tryst *' in Edinbm-gh. To get away on a certain date 
 was a necessity. If the boat could go out to the 
 steamer she would be in it, but she not infrequently 
 accompHshed her journey by doubling part of it, in 
 the following manner. 
 
 The ways of the mail-boat are full of mystery, 
 but its course is regularly irregular. It calls at 
 Tiree with the mails at any hour between noon and the 
 early afternoon. It then crosses to Bunessan, in 
 Mull, one of the finest harbours in Scotland, and Hes 
 there till early next morning, when *' it rolls back " 
 to Tiree, and picks up the mails and passengers. 
 Lady Victoria, in stormy weather, would get on board 
 the day the mails were landed, go for the night to 
 Bunessan harbour, and come back to Tiree the next 
 morning, secure against the risk of the boat not being 
 able to get to the steamer with the outgoing mails. 
 
 Oban is reached " some time," and occasionally 
 Lady Victoria would stay the night. More often she 
 pushed on : if to Inveraray, she posted the sixteen 
 miles from Dalmally ; and if " to the Holy City," 
 she would thankfully record the arrival about ten 
 at night.
 
 242 " ETHICA " 
 
 Such journeys are tiring, even to the strength of 
 those who can move about, and, if on the steamers, 
 shift their outlook. For her, once on the seats of the 
 dim narrow cabins, she rarely moved. Twenty-four 
 and thirty-six hours was she often on board, storm- 
 staid here, and delayed there, " aching from the hard- 
 ness of the seats," she would write, but never daunted, 
 frightened, or bored. If the seas were " beyond 
 anything," she had the captains down to report, 
 and their assurance it was a breeze, or a dead calm, 
 when she was hanging on to the ropes placed in her 
 way, was enough for her. She had confidence in 
 her guides through the deep, and she knew the routes 
 too well, and had experienced the ways of the steamers 
 too often, to do more than ask the oflicials at the 
 Board of Trade how long the " Fingal " was to be 
 run over the waste waters of the deep. Unfortunately, 
 the " Fingal," small and desperately un-up-to-date 
 in all its fittings, was a good sea-boat from the point 
 of view of the department, and she was not taken off 
 the route till near the end of the days when she was 
 needed by Lady Victoria. 
 
 There were other grievances and calls for a pier. 
 Perhaps before these are described, some further 
 account may be given of what these landings at Tiree 
 meant for those who assisted Lady Victoria, as well 
 as for herself. ^Ir. ]\Iacdiarmid was always present 
 to welcome, or to speed her on her way. For many 
 a long hour he waited for the steamer, and on many 
 occasions the waiting was in the dark wild nights, 
 when the getting of the able-bodied on and off the
 
 " ETHICA " 243 
 
 boat was no mean feat. Mr. Macdiarmid has written 
 a short account of some of the many adventures, 
 which extended over a period of twenty years. 
 
 The landmg and embarking in Tiree was always 
 a source of anxiety and care to those assisting 
 Lady Victoria, but, as a rule, she was singularly 
 fortunate with the weather conditions, and when 
 there was a heavy cargo to land, the steamer 
 people were very obhging in sending her ashore 
 before the cargo. 
 
 I remember one trying landing. It was gettmg 
 dark, and there was a good deal of swell on the 
 sea. It was dead low water, and when the boat 
 came to the shore, it could not get near either of 
 the small piers at Scarinish. There was nothing 
 for it but to run the boat in as far as possible on 
 the beach, and get the horse and buckboard 
 through the water to the stranded boat. The boat, 
 being a heavy one, the water alongside was deep ; 
 the horse became frightened, one of the traces 
 broke, and there was a great commotion. 
 
 Wilhng hands, however, plunged into the water. 
 The horse was quieted, and with great efforts we 
 got Lady Victoria transferred from the boat to 
 the buckboard, and all was well. 
 
 There was real danger, because if she were to 
 fall between the boat and the buckboard, the water 
 was so deep that she might be suffocated before 
 she could be rescued, on account of the plunging 
 horse.
 
 244 " ETHICA " 
 
 I was really very nervous, and wrote the late 
 Duke about the danger of her landing in Tiree 
 at all hours. 
 
 The last landing was on a very dark night, with 
 heavy rain. One time she was anxious to get 
 away from Tiree, and when the steamer arrived 
 at Scarinish it was so stormy that no boat could 
 go out. The steamer went round to Gott Bay, 
 and launched one of her boats. The surf was so 
 strong that the boat could not get near the rocks. 
 It was run up on a sandy beach, men standing in 
 the water steadied it, the horse and buckboard 
 were driven through the water to the side of the 
 boat, and with great difiiculty we managed to get 
 her into it, to our great relief. 
 
 Another time she was leaving Tiree. The 
 steamer was to be at Scarinish in the evening. 
 We were all there, but the steamer did not arrive. 
 We sat up all night in the Hotel, and the steamer 
 only arrived some time next day. 
 
 On another occasion we arrived at the side of 
 the steamer, and it was so full of sheep that the 
 regular gangways could not be opened. The only 
 way to get on board was by an opening in the railing 
 on the quarter-deck. The quarter-deck was high 
 above the boat. I had to Hft her on my shoulder, 
 and two men above took her arms and hfted her 
 on deck. 
 
 These are only a few instances of the many 
 landings at Tiree, and with good fortune there 
 was no accident.
 
 " ETHICA " 245 
 
 She was always very plucky, and never com- 
 plained. 
 
 These unadorned facts leave much to the imagina- 
 tion, and only those who have seen an ordinary 
 landing in a gentle swell can conjure up the scenes 
 here narrated by Mr. Macdiarmid. He, and those who 
 always went out to help Lady Victoria, made hght 
 of their wet and difficult task, not made easier by 
 the deep anxiety which was experienced by one and all. 
 It was never increased by her attitude. She had 
 complete confidence in the strong arms and warm 
 hearts which were welcoming her arrival. " As she 
 never saw fear," she did not understand why others 
 should fear for her. " You seem all very cheerful," 
 she said to j\L*. Macdiarmid and his band of helpers, 
 as they effected her landing for the last time in the 
 drenchmg rain, and " pit mirk," of a winter's night. 
 
 " We are glad to have you safe on shore," was an 
 , answer whose deep thankfulness she hardly realised. 
 No one was ever injured through these years, but 
 no Ufe would have been grudged among her friends 
 had her o^\^l peril needed it. This she felt, and her 
 love of the adventure, her rehance on the well-known 
 figures that came in the boat and waited her landing 
 on the shore, were her strong confidence, and the only 
 reward her friends ever asked or needed from her. 
 
 The landing in Gott Bay, to which ^Ir. Macdiarmid 
 alludes, was that which dwells with especial vivid- 
 ness in the mind of Knowles, and allusion to it has 
 already been made.
 
 246 " ETHICA " 
 
 " It is not fit for your Ladyship," was a \\A\- 
 wom expostulation, and only added to the humours 
 of the day. " Don't say anj^hing about it," was the 
 answer she always received, and Kiiowles knew by 
 the experience of revolving years that it was not 
 of the shghtest use to say anything for or against 
 such transits. 
 
 Gott Bay was a spot where landings could often 
 be ellected when Scarinish Harbour was impossible. 
 The aggravation of seeing the mails pass and passen- 
 gers return to their distant dwellings was much 
 enhanced by knowing that, but for the red-tape which 
 binds the Post Ollice and its contracts, the mails 
 might often have rejoiced the hearts of the storm- 
 staid, if both harbours had been available. 
 
 One captain, who was a native of Tiree, managed 
 to achieve greater things in this way than others 
 who had no great desire to he oil Tiree in a contrary 
 wind ; and Gott Bay was to be the site of that pier 
 Lady Victoria rejoiced to see running out into the 
 sea, but which she was never destined to tread. 
 
 Every bit of the construction of the pier meant 
 as great a battle with the powers that be, as the 
 engineers were to fight later on with the foundations, 
 and against the tides and storms of the site. 
 
 Through it all Lady Victoria led. Her unresting 
 pen brought the island within the practical politics 
 of the Othces of State. The official forms of " do- 
 nothingness " were hurled in vain at her. Impor- 
 tunity she understood as an art, and mijust judges 
 of every sphere and scope fell wearied at her feet.
 
 " ETHICA " 247 
 
 She enlisted the interest of the shooting tenants, 
 and Lord Elphinstone enclosed her a letter from the 
 Postmaster-General with the comment : " I am 
 afraid we can give up all hope of ever seeing the 
 * Fingal ' running into Gott Bay." The letter is 
 endorsed by Lady Victoria as " Last try." 
 
 General Post Office, London. Jan., 1905. 
 
 In the letter which you and i\Ii'. Cobbold sent 
 to me on the 16th ultimo, reference is made to 
 the landing of mails at Tiree. Li this connection 
 I may inform you that I have already considered 
 the question of arranging for the mail-steamer 
 to call at Gott Bay on occasions when, owing to 
 stress of weather, a landing cannot be eflected at 
 Scarinish. It appears, however, that no proper 
 provision is made for landing at Gott Bay ; no 
 ferry-boat is kept in the Bay, and there is not even 
 a boat-shp. 
 
 Moreover, the " Fingal " has a small crew, and 
 if a boat were lowered to land passengers and 
 mails at Gott Bav, the crew left on the steamer 
 would not be sufficient to work her. 
 
 The captain of the " Fingal " docs not think it 
 safe to attempt to efYect a landing at Gott Bay, 
 when the weather is too bad to admit of a call made 
 at Scarinish, and I do not consider it advisable 
 to interfere with his discretion in the matter. 
 
 Two years later an understanding and more sym- 
 pathetic Post Office surveyor writes to her from 
 Edinbui'gh : —
 
 248 " ETIIICA " 
 
 After seeing the difficiilty in embarking at Scari- 
 nish on Saturday morning, I can quite understand 
 the desire for improvement. 
 
 Perhaps had the authorities of Post OfTice and 
 steamer company been less rigid, the impulse which 
 drew so many together for the construction of the 
 pier in Gott Bay would have been less active. In 
 1908, when a better type of steamer was at last 
 launched, Lady Victoria, with the pier nearer in 
 sight, wrote a letter to the papers. As usual, the 
 things that lay behind pressed heavily on her pen, 
 but it is a vivid, if allusive, presentment of past 
 troubles and future hopes. 
 
 GLIMPSES FROM TIREE 
 J id If. 1908. 
 
 More than one paragraph in the well-known 
 " Oban Times " has greeted the debut of the new 
 mail-steamer " Lochiel." None of them give an 
 adequate idea of the pathetic surprise, the rejoicmg, 
 while trembhng lest this priceless boon of an up-to- 
 date steamer should be withdrawn, after years of 
 pleading that a quicker vessel than the far-famed 
 " Fingal " would mitigate late summer posts, and 
 long periods of detention for passengers, on a 
 vessel originally designed for inner waters. 
 
 Knots of people gathered to witness the 
 " Lochiel's " arrival. School children will re- 
 member the year when one of the " popular " fleet 
 approached the shores even with ease in our
 
 " ETHICA " 249 
 
 summer gales, during two of which it was impossible 
 for the cargo-boat to go out to her. 
 
 When the pier is built on the spot designated 
 by our Viking forefathers, the prowess of the 
 " Lochiel," with its well-tried captain and crew, 
 will find their elforts crowned with success. 
 
 Those who have been born and bred in islands, 
 to whom a boat by oar or sail is ** Home," who 
 watch, year in and year out, the effect of gales 
 on this isle, called by our great magician " wild," 
 even as he named Coruisk " lone," realise how 
 much Is in a name. They marvel why a pier 
 should not stand with the apphcation of the latest 
 engineering science. 
 
 ISome of the cold water which greets the scheme 
 proceeds from the artist who fears the motor 
 might be landed ! This would indeed be a shock 
 to the maternal " Tern," who wheels and shrieks 
 over the horses. But the fear is remote. Others, 
 again, may have a sigh for the good old days when 
 goods were dumped, forgetting the rats, the long 
 detention in sheds, the frequent carrying past. 
 The return journey of miles, for pigs or sheep, 
 not to mention an occasional broken leg of animals, 
 comes to greater expense than pier dues. 
 
 But these last critics are few and far between. 
 The native islanders, whose knowledge of their 
 coast, whose pluck in going out to meet the steamers 
 a few years ago, evoked the heartiest commen- 
 dation from the Lifeboat Commissioners, are 
 united in the resolve that the time for talking is
 
 250 " ETHICA " 
 
 past, the time for action is come. It is to be hoped 
 that every encouragement will be given to the 
 scheme to help those who have contributed no 
 mean share in men to our pubhc services. 
 
 By their eft'orts three regular steamers are 
 kept going. It is to be hoped the vaHant, but 
 wholly inadequate, steamer " Fingal " will now 
 form an honoured monument in the Exhibition, 
 while one with greater speed will be accorded, 
 wliith will \uA\) matters. It will not only suit 
 our summer visitors, but those for whose sake the 
 Government of 188C was approached to open 
 up the island by more frequent mail commmiica- 
 tion. 
 
 In some parts of the islands, hitherto dependent 
 on the old Hutchinson's steamers, the railway and 
 motors have come nearer. (It is, however, for- 
 gotten that neither of these can cross the sands !) 
 No such plea can be urged in excuse for the 
 " Granary of the West." Neither tunnel nor 
 viaduct will disturb the steamer monopoly, but 
 neither the diiliculties nor the facilities can be 
 gauged by men who dwell in pleasant harbours, 
 when not in City ofiices, surrounded with tele- 
 phone wires, etc. 
 
 It requires a Plimsoll, or a George Aberdeen, 
 who determined to experience for themselves what 
 they had to legislate upon. 
 
 Alas ! We see not thcii- successors. 
 
 A Hebridean.
 
 " ETHICA " 251 
 
 The buildiniDf of the pier might make a lay as long 
 as the one on " the keeping of the bridge." By slow 
 processes and strenuous exertions the Scottish Office 
 and all the necessary powers were upheaved, and Lord 
 Archibald and Lady Victoria and the parish minister, 
 Mr. (jiilhes, who had done such excellent work in 
 the cause, saw the first sod cut in the year 1909, 
 and for her last winter in the island, from her bedroom 
 eyrie. Lady Victoria's " longing eyes were blessed " 
 with the vision of the works. 
 
 The story must now tui'n back to her earher 
 residences in the island. 
 
 The year 1893 was darkened to her l)y the loss of 
 Lady Emma, and she had the additional burden 
 of having to arrange for the break-up of the homes 
 so associated with most of her life. The winter before 
 her death, Lady Emma had written to her from the 
 house of her oldest friend, Mrs. Paisley, at Helens- 
 burgh. The house was close to Ardencaple Castle, 
 Lady Emma's birthplace. 
 
 It is a vision of the Gareloch over which she was 
 gazing, and remembering " the dear bairny " of 
 langsyne, who was fulfilHng that dedication made 
 beside Lady Emma in the days of her childhood. 
 
 The letters of 1892, and the thoughts in her diary 
 for that year and 1893, are placed here. 
 
 From Lady Emma McNeill. 
 Helensburgh. Aug., 1892. 
 My dearest V., 
 Here I am. Thankful not to have to face the
 
 252 " ETIIICA " 
 
 storm. This house is so close to the shore it might 
 be a fixed bathing-house, and one feels as if in a 
 ship. I watch the squalls coming up from beyond 
 the Cloch Lighthouse, and think how you would 
 have defied weather, and gone your way. The sea- 
 gulls run about the shore, with their dainty white 
 garments unsoiled by mud and sand, and look like 
 scattered pearls from a broken string ; and then 
 some rise, and one sees the gleam of strong sunshine 
 on them as they fly. 
 
 The crowds of Ardencaple crows come down, 
 and I look at them as relatives 1 had lost sight of, 
 and who do not acknowledge me. \\'hite waves 
 roll in, and there is the ceaseless wail of wind and 
 sea. Yes, I rejoice " there shall be no more sea,** 
 as we know it. Only the glory of the sea of glass, 
 mingled with fire. " Brightness and strength, not 
 change and desolation." 
 
 Expect me if the day is fairly calm, not other- 
 wise ; I am not heroic. 
 
 TiREE. Feb., 1892. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Macdiarmid, 
 
 I had looked forward to a talk with you the 
 end of the week, but I felt an extra pressure upon 
 me, feeling that the efforts of the past month for 
 the young women must be put into shape, so that 
 the best for them may be done. 
 
 I hope a helpful monthly meeting may be 
 provided for them. May we not hope that some 
 who are groping their way may be led into de-
 
 " ETHICA " 253 
 
 cision ? Some who are sitting at ease, waiting for 
 this wonderful experience called " conversion " 
 with folded hands, may be led to see that it has 
 something to do with the will ? 
 
 Lastly, I feel how erroneously we may and must 
 judge each other " whiles," so that, while being 
 careful, I think we should hail all earnest wiUing- 
 heartedness. . . . 
 
 Were a local guild to be started here to-morrow, 
 it would be to teach the women (not only the young 
 ones) the duty of Church life. I don't mean 
 " sectarian " hfe, but being members of some one 
 Church (however much they might go out to others), 
 and doing the work of that Church before going out 
 to other duties. . . . 
 
 We have four ministers who unite in all Evangel- 
 istic effort, and who have bound themselves to 
 withstand, as far as possible, oiu: accursed drinking 
 customs. They have, and particularly the two 
 young ministers, special dilliculties to contend 
 with. I hope they will see their way to have Bible- 
 classes after the work-classes close, if not before. 
 When the classes have learnt something of discipline, 
 coming even in time, or on regular days ! 
 
 I feel we are privileged to be what I have long 
 maintained the Y.W. should, a " feeder to the 
 Church of God.'' 
 
 In sounding the W.M., the repHes have all been : 
 *' It would have such a good effect upon the girls. 
 It would show them that the ministers took an 
 interest, and so forth.''
 
 254 " ETHICA " 
 
 I have never had to deal with the same state of 
 things at once so dark and yet so hri^ht. 
 
 The bright, in having such niinist^^rs. The 
 dark, the utter disuse of all Church congregational 
 hfe amongst the young. No spirit of chivalry 
 or honour about it, but I think it is coming. 
 
 Last year increases my love for the all-denomina- 
 tional work, as it brings me in touch with all. 
 Most amusing touch— with the EpiscopaUans of 
 this county ! But, as I wrote to our present 
 President, Miss Hay, apropos of the Foreign 
 Mission controversy, I should resign to-morrow, 
 if I could not do my duty when possible as a member 
 of a church. . . . 
 
 \Vhen one thinks you may be away next winter, 
 and I may never come back. (I allude to the 
 uncertainties of Ufe, especially with this influenza.) 
 Even if a Y.W. could overtake all the girls, which 
 it never could, I feel the path before us is no longer 
 one of perplexity, but one of lucid clearness, if 
 w^e be willing to follow it. . . . 
 
 I chortle in the thought that perhaps Tiree will 
 take the lead in what they were considering in 
 Conference the other day in Edinburgh. If ever 
 Guilds be started, that they may be hnked on to 
 our great Y.W., not only in the Island, bringing 
 us all to know and love one another, but ensuring 
 for our girls the protective aid, as well as the minis- 
 terial guidance. 
 
 This brings me to the last point. Somehow or
 
 " ETHICA " 255 
 
 other, we must have discipHne maintained, as far 
 as possible, in the Y.W. 
 
 I don't mean only the W.M. ; I am meeting all 
 the senior girls separately this week, and I mean 
 to speak plainly. I have been leading up to it 
 all these weeks. The same reason which made 
 me join the Y.W. (here, again, Guilds cannot help 
 us, or compete or distract) and made Frances 
 take the Presidentship of the Travellers' Aid, when 
 London was ringing with the dangers to which 
 girls were exposed, had kindled within me the 
 flame which, I hope, will never die. It made me 
 refuse to join the Girls' Friendly, namely, we must 
 remember the girls' bringing-up, their greater 
 temptations. The constant example set of low 
 tone about such things. Fancy E. saying to 
 Knowles : " No one thinks anything of it here." 
 
 I have long known that one of the reasons that 
 noble minister, ]\Ir. McRury, sullered was his 
 fidehty regarding this matter, as well as in refusing 
 his church for the Land League. 
 
 If the Christian women of this and other islands 
 were asked to do nothing else of work in the great 
 Harvest Field, this would fill their heads and hearts. 
 
 Forgive this long letter, but I wanted in all love 
 and faithfulness to show you why your speech 
 pained and worried me. " The work you were sure 
 would go do^^^l after I left." You have prayed for 
 blessing for years. Do you not expect the answer ? 
 From the moment Mr. MacLean, as minister of 
 this parish, welcomed me and the Y.W., and told
 
 256 " ETIIICA " . 
 
 me he was praying for a blessing on the work, I 
 knew we shoukl have it, in accordance with the 
 Master's promise. 
 
 Yours aflectionately, 
 
 V. Campbell. 
 
 To Mrs. Macdiarniid. Argyll Lodge. 
 
 1892. 
 
 I cannot tell you what joy it is to me to hear 
 of all going so well, not but what I thought it 
 would. I never had such a solemn sense of God 
 working with us, or rather through us. 
 
 Lome writes now that my father is a British 
 Duke, I am to be made Female Tetrarch of Tiree. 
 I have rephed, I think a Scottish Duke quite as 
 good as British. He will get my letter at Windsor, 
 and I can but hope he won't repeat it to the Queen ! 
 
 April. 
 
 I have a sense of blank, now that I cannot follow 
 the days as they come round with the various 
 meetings. I am sure you will all remember that 
 during the summer months, when words which 
 have been spoken or read may come home with 
 fresh power, how important it is to be, what they 
 call here in the south, " aggressive." Wc High- 
 landers especially are slow to express our diffi- 
 culties or longings, but a loving, sympathetic 
 word, delivered, as Dr. Saphir used to say, " in 
 the Master's tone," because we have been " with 
 Him," will be blessed to many.
 
 
 COTTAGES IN TIKEE.
 
 " ETllICA " 257 
 
 Last Thursday I was in that crowded Hall 
 listening to Moody, and as those hymns went 
 up from the thousands, with our two respective 
 Moderators-elect, Dr. Blaikie and Dr. Charteris, 
 takinj::^ part, I felt there was no reason why our 
 Islands should not be as glad and as thankful, 
 if they will receive the simple message of Life 
 now in Christ, which must have as its consequence 
 a life of consecration and service. 
 
 May, 1892. 
 
 When 1 was in Tiree I got a letter from one of 
 the Argyllshire secretaries asking me to remember 
 I was district Referee, and there were other })lace8 
 besides Tiree. I have been in no danger of for- 
 getting this lately. The Returns give a dreadful 
 amount of work. 
 
 I can't say how pleased I am at the way in which 
 you have developed the organisation. May it have 
 that blessing of hfe which will make it effective. 
 
 To Mrs. Macdiarmid. Written from Tiree. 
 
 This year, I suppose the harvest won't be in 
 before Xmas ! 
 
 We did catch it across the Machar last night. 
 No gii'ls came, but I don't wonder. I didn't lose 
 time ! Got to know friends, arranged matters, 
 and had a Gaehc lesson. I left at five. 
 
 1892. 
 
 Such a full class again, from three townships ; 
 and I felt, with renewed force, while the sewiuo;-
 
 258 " ETIIICA " 
 
 class lasts we must get them any help we can. 
 I could have heard a pin drop during the Bible 
 lesson, and I left them being led so j)rettily in 
 " I hear Thy welcome voice." And this is the class 
 which 1 was so low about ! Surely we are taught 
 again and again it is " not by might." 
 
 [On getting someone she wished to do a bit of 
 work :] I feel as though the millenium may be upon 
 us. 
 
 We have much to be thankful for this winter, 
 but I confess my heart is sick at the low moral tone. 
 Also, the stifled conscience which can let an old 
 minister walk five miles to preach to six people, 
 to say nothing of the younger ministers who would 
 have large congregations elsewhere ; but perhaps 
 we are all waking up to the fact that the most 
 needful places require the best men. 
 
 Where we have the ultra-Episcopal type, of 
 course, there is a difference, because they teach 
 one must belong to them to be in the right way at 
 all ; but we have, happily, not this gulf between 
 Baptist, Free, and Established. 
 
 Xmas Eve, 1892. 
 
 Will you arrange that from all the treats the 
 fragments be gathered up, that nothing be lost, 
 and a list of the sick taken ? No other deserters 
 from treat, but perhaps a birch-rod might be sent 
 afterwards ! 
 
 Really the " Dunara " ought to be pulled up for 
 passing us yesterday. 

 
 " ETIIICA " 259 
 
 Jan., 1893. 
 
 Do you know, I am left with one overpowering 
 sense of all that needs yet to be done with the 
 Y.W.O.A. I have often thanked God for the hearty 
 co-operation of all the ministers in evangehstic 
 work, but all you say of Mr. McLean is true. I 
 never saw anything in my experience hke the fer- 
 vent, patient, catholic working for the conmion 
 cause. I feel so strongly that if his own Church- 
 members will form round him hi a Guild, it will 
 keep them in hand, give them some guidance, 
 Uft it out of *' nighean an Diiic " atmosphere. 
 
 Don't fuss about me. The strength has been 
 given for the day, and will be. 
 
 [About magazines :J 1 don't want Tiree to play 
 the pauper. 
 
 May 15th, 1892. From her diary. 
 
 To-day m the old Tolbooth Parish Church, 
 outside the May breeze rusthng, the green bushes 
 emergmg from the Rock of the Castle, I saw the 
 settmg apart of another Deaconess, Janet Beck, 
 who is already a missionary of the Church of 
 Scotland in the Blant}Te IMission. 
 
 The Rev. D. Clement Scott preached on, " Bring 
 ye in the tithes." The key-note was, we are re- 
 deemed that we may first give the tithe, and then 
 the whole of ourselves and of our substance, to 
 God. The unity of the race, the claim that Africa 
 has upon us as such. 
 
 Professor Charteris spoke of one of the ancient
 
 2G0 " ETTITCA " 
 
 offices of the deaconess, which was to keep the door 
 of the women. So Janet Beck niipht be said to 
 keep the door of the women in Africa, and as in 
 that early Church they prepared the catechumens 
 for Baptism, so, as she bends over the African 
 children, she might think of so instructing them. 
 
 Whatever variance of opinion there may be as 
 to this particular form of being set apart, I could 
 not but think of the great advantage to those who, 
 being sent forth by the Church they represent, know 
 that they have its sympathy and prayers. It 
 must be a real help in their lonely and arduous 
 outpost work. 
 
 I wish that workers in the great harvest field 
 could realise more that they are joining one great 
 orchestra, each with a distinct part, but which is 
 needed to blend into j)erfect harmony. 
 
 Perhaps as my own Ufe work, for the most part, 
 has led away from associated work, I see all the 
 beauty and help it might be, more than some who 
 are accustomed to it. 
 
 I have got this time to know " my fellow- 
 workers," dear women and girls each one. We 
 need much faith and prayer. 
 
 Argyll Lodge. June 2bth, 1892. 
 My dear I\Irs. Macdiarmid, 
 
 I have been longing for the leisure and the 
 strength to write you a good crack ! This sounds 
 as if I had been working hard, and such I cannot 
 feel to have been the case ; but somehow I think
 
 " ETHICA " 261 
 
 this friggle-fraggle life takes it out of me more 
 than the arduousness of meetings in the dear 
 Tiree against all wind and weather, and the breezes 
 meanwhile giving me that wonderful thing called 
 
 life. 
 
 I spent part of this week at the ^lildmay Con- 
 ference. I thought of and longed for the Tiree 
 workers, that they should have all the lielj). Think- 
 ing* of it, I send you the Syllabus of it. Next week 
 I will send you the " Christian," which contains 
 the fullest reports. 
 
 More than any of the addresses, powerful as 
 these were, from Mr. Wilson of St. Michael's, 
 Dr. rierson, and Mr. Stuart, as out-standing 
 ones, I always feel freshly struck with the feel- 
 ing, " one heart, one voice." A sense of the com- 
 numion of God's Spirit and fellowship one with 
 another. I always tliink Sir Arthur Blackwood 
 is especially happy in setting the key-note. It 
 was a solemn time. One felt there was so much 
 searching of hearts, and such a sense that work, 
 if it be genuine, must be done in the power of the 
 Spirit, or prove utterly barren and unfruitful. 
 
 I left after the united Conmiunion on Thursday, 
 when over two thousand must have sat down. 
 
 Sir Arthur greeted me with : " Well, shall I 
 go to Tiree ? " I said : '* Yes, do." " W^ell," 
 he said, " I shall see if McKinnon can put me round 
 in his yacht." 
 
 I really believe a few of these bigwigs are 
 possessed with a burning desire to see it !
 
 262 " ETHICA " 
 
 In all tilt* inevitublo anxietica of this time, 
 neodle.s8 to Siiy, I shall think with special thoughta 
 of the wild Lsland. I am dt"li«;htcd with the account 
 of the closing meeting. You really are in splendid 
 working business harness. I trust so much that, 
 in whatever form, work true and living may be 
 set agoing and prosper for next winter. 
 
 April, \H9L Inveraray. From her diary. 
 
 Nearlv two years since the last entrv. Just 
 after I wrote it, I was at the first Moderator's 
 breakfast I have ever been at, that of Professor 
 Charteris. I went to London when Dot arrived. 
 How glad I am I went at once to welcome her ! 
 In 1893 I was to have visited her at Liberton before 
 she left for Cannes, and I for Tiree. I staved for 
 the home visit to be over ; our nmrried couples 
 here with eight grandchildren. T wont to Edin- 
 burgh, to Lidy Liston FoulLs, Dr. Charteris, and 
 then Dr. Macmillan, who put me on board the 
 " I)unara,"and I left again for BunessiUi and Tiree. 
 In this last place I took lodgings this time. We 
 got two Guilds formed. Of those months I cannot 
 venture on details. Intluenzii seized Knowles, 
 then me. I can never forget the home-sickness 
 I had during my convalescence for my father and 
 the family. 
 
 I left early for London, where Aunt Dot spent 
 three weeks with us. 
 
 Home Rule and Disestabhshment for Wales 
 the burning topics in pubhc life. On the 20th
 
 " ETIIICA " 263 
 
 May came the summons to Bournemouth. It 
 was to be with Dot in her last hours. God 
 only knows how I got through. The oppressed 
 breathing was terrible. The glad light flitted over 
 her face, as I quoted familiar texts or hymn. 
 The awful suddenness of the end all seemed hke 
 a dream. 
 
 Then, going to Edinljurgh, the wonderful beauty 
 of those sunmier days. The true friendship it 
 all cemented between Mr. Charles Guthrie and me. 
 The tender, strong sympathy of dear Dr. Charteris, 
 I can never express what it was. 
 
 Jan. Mtli, 1893. TlREE. 
 My dear Mrs. Macdiarmid, 
 
 An enormous class yesterday from the Sahara 
 and the two Cornaigs. Only Flora McLean for my 
 aide-de-camp. All these need cardi>. The whole 
 of " the S;ihara " require almanacs. 
 
 I am getting on. Neuralgia pretty severe, but 
 I am thankful 1 went to Cornaig. In haste. Yrs., 
 
 V.C. 
 
 To Mrs. Macdiarmid. 
 
 Aug. 2i(h, 1893. Argyll Lodge. 
 
 We must do the best we can in the meantime, 
 and 1 have the hope ultimately that we may 
 manage some local association for Argyll (Home 
 lndustriei>). A regular working Branch, as Suther- 
 land and Inverness, have been organised. 
 
 The idea of the " Exliibition " in November
 
 264 
 
 " ETIIICA " 
 
 for Oban seems odd, but it may air the subject, 
 and lead to someone starting a Depot to be open, 
 at all events, for the tourist season. AMien I went 
 to the great sale here, held in a private house, 
 and opened by Princess May, I felt with such a 
 rush of fashion and patronage, the Tiree people, 
 at all events, ought not to be left out. It requires 
 an introduction to get into the London Depot. 
 1 hope to call there in a day or two, and will then 
 find out whether the caretaker thinks it worth 
 whilo to have any of these up. 
 
 The winter journey was not an easy one. On 
 November 13th, 1893, she went from Bunessan to 
 lona. 
 
 Friday, Nov. \lth. 
 
 Started on " Dunara.' 
 Bunessan. Fearful nitrht. 
 
 Detained all day at 
 
 18//^ 
 
 Very bad with headache. Got through writing 
 in evening. \\'onder when we shall get to Tiree. 
 
 \M. 
 Landed at Bunessan. No service in our church. 
 
 Had class at night. 
 
 2\st. 
 
 ^Vrrived at Tiree with Mrs. Grant.
 
 " ETHICA " 265 
 
 Dec. I3th, 1894. Inveraray. 
 
 Dear Mrs. jMacdiarniid, 
 
 How my heart warmed when, yesterday 
 evening, I was told " Donald McDonald from 
 Tiree " wished to see me. We had such a crack 
 over the Revival and all. What a blessing it is ! 
 and, thanks to the nobihty of our ministers there, 
 the movement will be guided, and, let us hope, 
 sufJplemented, by the people by earnest ivork. 
 
 You know, I feel this is the great need of the 
 Tiree folks. They are apt to be " revived," and 
 then faint again. I told Mr. McLean, when he 
 wrote somewhat regretfully about all the Y.W. 
 classes, not to fret. If good, real work is done, 
 it matters not under what auspices, if only the 
 occasional tide does not follow of despising God's 
 ordinances. 
 
 Then I should so like, as a practical outcome of 
 all this, to have a coflee and conmiou mission- 
 room in Balemartine. If only we could get it to be 
 self-supporting, with a soup kitchen. Do make 
 all inquiries, and let us determine : " It shall be 
 done." 
 
 In the beginning of 189-4 Lady Victoria was re- 
 called to Inveraray by the death of the Duchess 
 Ameha. The Duke needed her presence, and she 
 was miable to leave him, or give the winter, as usual, 
 to the islands. By correspondence, she kept in touch 
 with all her island links, and the network of classes 
 she had helped to spread over Ai-gyll.
 
 266 " ETIIICA " 
 
 Physically, it was a break which rested her. She 
 was happy in the close society of one who was always 
 the centre of her thoii<^'hts, and she enjoyed the pro- 
 longed intercourse with the large family circle, 
 so soon to be thinned, that gathered round their 
 father at Inveraray. 
 
 At the close of December she writes : — 
 
 Dec. 30th, 1894. Inveiiaray. 
 
 Such a happy close to what has been one of 
 the saddest years I have known. The April week 
 in Edinlnirgh, with its visit to Dr. and Mrs. Char- 
 teris. The Comnmnion Sunday, under Dr. Mathc- 
 son, and the blessed ten days of heart and spirit 
 conununion with the Sholto Douglases at Bahua- 
 carra. Miss Marsh's days here are the oases. 
 
 What a contrast to last year, alone with Mrs. 
 Grant in Tirec ! 
 
 The year 1895 again opened with a painful shock, 
 and it was followed by a series of events which broke 
 down her strength, and for the first time her heart 
 wellnigh failed her. 
 
 The Duke went to Glasgow in order to make a 
 speech in defence of the House of Lords. While 
 speaking, he was seized with a severe fainting attack, 
 and the nervous exhaustion which followed resulted 
 in a long illness, and much subsequent weakness. 
 Lady Victoria was at Inveraray at the time. The 
 presence of Lord Lome and one of her sisters, in 
 Glasgow, made it unnecessary for her to go to the
 
 " ETHICA " 267 
 
 Duke, but the strain of being absent from him 
 told as much as if she had been with him where he 
 was laid up in the house of Lord and Lady Kelvin. 
 The spring brought the news of her brother Lord 
 Cohn's death in Bombay, and it closed to her a 
 field to which her eyes had turned. 
 
 As I was preparmg to go to him [she writes] 
 the 'telegram came to say all was over. The next 
 week I went to i\lildmay, staying with Miss 
 Coventry for the Conference. I attended a few 
 other meetings, feelmg terribly ill, and on the 
 3rd of July the smash came. It was internal 
 inflannnation, followed by other complications. 
 I had two dear nurses from Mildmay. I longed 
 to die, but I am afraid it only proceeded from 
 physical weakness. God only knows how unfit I 
 was for it. 
 
 Li August I was able to move to Foxton, where 
 Edith cooked me up for a fortnight. Then a week 
 in Edinburgh lodgings, where I broke the long 
 fast from all Church ordinances in St. Giles on 
 Sunday, and I was at one weekday service. What 
 memories of dear Dot and her friends came 
 over me ! 
 
 A few days at Douglas Support, then with the 
 Macmillans at Greenock, before he put me on board 
 for lona. A week there, another at Bunessan, 
 then to Tiree, to prove, as I beheved, whether 
 these islands, or further afield, was to be, in future, 
 my sphere.
 
 268 " ETUICA " 
 
 She needed all the cheer her friends could give 
 her, though the short diary is written with her own 
 indomitable will power. 
 
 After eleven weeks illness, feehng more like 
 facing hfe. 
 
 Oct. 2rd. 
 
 Started round the Moil. 
 
 Od. 4th. 
 
 lona, and in the chair to the Cross. 
 
 Oct. 11///. 
 
 Crossed the Sound to Mull. 
 
 Od. 18///. 
 Came to Tiree. Good toss. Got in about six. 
 
 Od. 19///. 
 
 Full of restoration to work, ^liss MacGrcgor 
 with me. 
 
 Dec. 3\st. 
 
 Feel encouraged. Is Tiree to be the field ? 
 
 To Lady Mary Glyn. 
 
 Douglas Support. Sep., 1895. 
 
 A lovely place, as far as grounds go. Beyond, 
 a terraced garden, trees, and harvest fields. 
 
 My Doctor quite satisfied with Islands, because, 
 with due care, it is the only life in which, short
 
 " ETHICA " 269 
 
 of a thorough invalid, I can command hours, and 
 recover the tremendous nervous exhaustion. 
 
 1 loved my first Sunday in St. Giles after eleven 
 weeks. I should like the Coummnion here, but I 
 am not sure if it is feasible. 
 
 I sail, D.V., by Moil for lona, Oct. 3rd. 
 
 From Dr. Oswald Dykes. 
 
 Dec. 2ijth, 1895. 
 
 I like the beautiful photograph of yourself, 
 now before me, very much, and shall prize it. 
 
 Do you know, it has so much of your aunt in it 
 that it seems to recall her also, when I look at it. 
 
 The letter which came with it gave me the 
 tidings of you, for which 1 have been wishing. 
 I do not know that any retreat could afford you, 
 in finer combination, the elements of restfuhiess 
 for mind and spirit, as well as body, which you need 
 after the recent prolonged strain of various kinds, 
 and the breakdown which it naturally brought on. 
 The remoteness from jar, the soothing solitude, 
 the free air and open sea lifting one above petty 
 frets, the loyalty and gratitude of these clans- 
 women, the old-world piety, and to all this the 
 solicitude and aid afforded by that good IMiss 
 MacGregor, what more could be added to do "a 
 body " good ? 
 
 You will tell me that jealousies and di\dsions 
 mar even the paradise of Tiree, and people can be 
 petty and stupid by the sounding sea ! I dare say. 
 The big world may minister peace, but the Httle
 
 270 " ETHICA " 
 
 world man creates for himself will still be — like 
 himself ! The cure lies in turning one's " little 
 world " into a bit of the kingdom of God. WTiere 
 TTo rules, there is peace. 
 
 1 hope the " clanswomen " appreciate your 
 fulfilment of the noblest of the duties of a chief- 
 tainess, by Uving among them to help them to 
 Hve better. ^V^lethe^ they do or not, I like better 
 to think of you there on an island of Argyll among 
 your own people, than (as you seem to hint) 
 missioning far afield among aliens of a foreign 
 tongue. No, I can't think that is for you. 
 
 You will be ablo, I trust, to repose your nerves 
 and collect your thoughts, and, above all, settle 
 your heart on the Divine will, which rises serene 
 above our tumultuous wills, and to which, if we 
 only embrace it, we should find it so good to submit 
 all our private and errant longings. What better 
 can I wish for you, than that the Di\'ine Peace 
 should take you for comfort into itself for a space. 
 That you may forget all else in the strengthening 
 persuasion, that your Heavenly Father knows 
 and cares, and loves and provides, and is more 
 to you a thousandfold than earthly brother, or 
 father, or friend. 
 
 The thoughts and prayers of your friends will 
 go with you in your retreat, and hover near you ! 
 And that is not unpleasant to think. 
 
 From " Professor Pax." 
 I am very sorry indeed, but not surprised, that
 
 " ETHICA " 271 
 
 you find your return so inexpressibly sad. How 
 strange are the paths to which children's feet 
 go, when they leave home ! How comforting the 
 hope of the Home from which " they go out no 
 more, for ever ! " You will fmd your own burden 
 lightened as you take up that of others. Divine 
 compensation. 
 
 To Lady Mary Glyn. 
 
 The Lodge, Tiree. Oct., 1895. 
 
 When you have time to write, explain fully 
 about the Congress, and if you were afflicted with 
 women's meetings ! And if, perchance, they 
 spoke sense ! 
 
 Did Normandy do you good " afterwards," like 
 chastening ? I mean, you did not seem to answer 
 to it at the time, which is like the German waters 
 theory. 
 
 You can imagine me here this time, near the 
 Manse in Gott Bay. The dark-grey villa-looking 
 house the Mackenzies used to hve in. I see the dear 
 Jura hills from my bed, and from the sofa the Mull 
 range. 
 
 From her Diary. 
 
 Last Sunday, 1895. Tiree. 
 
 The text to-day from which our " laddie mini- 
 ster," Mr. Macpherson, gave his English sermon, 
 might well speak to me : " The cup which My 
 Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it ? " 
 
 The main teaching of his sermon was in the first
 
 272 " ETHICA " 
 
 part : " Put up thy sword into the sheath," " It 
 is a strong naturo which is patient ; impatience 
 is a sign of weakness," such were some of his 
 thoughts on a Sunday when, with blessed outward 
 cahn, after a week of terrible storm, he prayed it 
 might be to us an emblem of the time when the 
 storm and stress of life should be over. 
 
 It was during these years that her attendance on 
 the meetings of the General Assembly of the Church 
 of Scotland, in Edinburgh, became regular. " She 
 was an institution there," said Dr. Norman Macleod. 
 It was a true description of one of the best-known 
 figures in Edinburgh, in the time of " May and the 
 Assembhes." Of course, it was an occasion when 
 she physically steadily overdid herself, with long 
 sittings hstening to debates on subjects about which 
 she was " wildly excited." No matter that her feet 
 were cold as ice, and she in every form of discomfort, 
 nothing would make her abandon the Assembly. 
 
 How many " fathers and brethren " can recall the 
 eager face, bending over the Throne galJer}-, saluting 
 and beckoning to the many friends, gathered, like 
 herself, from field, and mountain, and flood ! The 
 innumerable confidences and consultations, the burn- 
 ing desire that the vote should go her way, and her 
 whispered expostulations to those who were passing 
 beneath her, into the wrong or right lobby. 
 
 " I follow my leader ; I always follow Dr. Story," 
 pleaded Colonel Wauchope, as, in full uniform, he 
 passed the head that was being shaken at him.
 
 " ETHICA " 273 
 
 Then there were the progresses up and (.lo^^^l the 
 gloomy stone stairs. The minister, or elder, selected 
 because he understood " how to give his arm " ; 
 the less favoured, bearing cloaks and foot-warmers. 
 The cab attained, there was always a pause before 
 the driver could get oil. The head with the 
 fair hair framing the radiant face at the window, 
 as her eye caught sight of tliis one, and then 
 the other, bidding all and sundry to come and 
 have a crack, or a "ceilidh," and meals were 
 promised, and " trysts " were made. Or she would 
 have been to hear " Rainy " in the Free Assembly, 
 or her feet had strayed into some " conventicle,'* 
 and the stricter sect of the fathers and brethren 
 would come reproving her for backslidings and de- 
 fections, and she enjoyed the innocent mischief she 
 had been in, and bade them give her absolution. 
 She loved the element of ecclesiastical life, and the 
 social gathering together, and the Assembly ten days 
 were always bright to her ; though she would pay 
 for her ** Gospel greed " by many a neuralgic attack. 
 " It was worth it," was her summing up, " and that 
 it was good to see her," was the heartfelt feeUng of the 
 friends, who miss her coming, and can no longer 
 stand by to aid her progress to the Throne gallery 
 of the Tolbooth Church.
 
 • CHAITKi; X 
 
 NIOIIEAN AN DIUC 
 
 " I've wrei^tltHl on lowanl.-* heaven, 
 'Oainst Htorm and wind and tide ; 
 Now, like n wi-ary IravclliT, 
 7'hal leaneth on hi^ g^tide, 
 Amid tlic x)iaded of evening, 
 While sinkfl life'a lingering sand, 
 I hail the glory dawning 
 In Imiuanucr» I^nd." 
 
 The diary of 189G closes with these words, written in 
 lona : — 
 
 W'l'nt to west end. To the Cross and to the 
 Cathedral. Why am 1 hroufrht here ? may be the 
 question. Surely to rest awhile. In the midst 
 of trouble His Presence can make all bright. 
 
 It had been a strenuous year, and over it all there 
 was weariness. Lady Victoria had had another 
 heavy sorrow, in the sudden death of her sister, 
 Lady Elisabeth Clough Taylor. The urgent call 
 to leave Tiree, and start for Inveraray, came to her 
 in September, and there was the usual entry in the 
 diary : " Got on board at night. Fearful tossing, 
 but got into Oban by two next day." 
 
 The funeral was at Rosneath, and Lady Victoria 
 went with the steamer that conveyed the coffin, 
 
 274 
 
 4
 
 NTGHEAN AN DIUC 275 
 
 and those of her family who had been able to gather 
 together. It was a lovely bright day, as the boat passed 
 down the familiar waterways, and brought them 
 all again within the circle of the hills. ** Great 
 sense of rest in the old Home," Lady Victoria writes, 
 as she turns back again to Inveraray to help her 
 brother-in-law and his children. For this reason 
 she was detained both at Inveraray, and in a pro- 
 longed visit to London. In her review of the year, she 
 says : — 
 
 Dee. 31.S7, 1L50 p.m. 
 
 The year is dying out, and as I wait to hear 
 the httle church bell ring it out, I record its chief 
 events. The inner reeord, one cannot. Libby 
 taken from us. I summoned home again, and for 
 weeks doubtful whether I could return to Island 
 life. Matters were so arranged that I was able to 
 do so. I returned to Bunessan, then I came here, 
 and am seeing it out in the Blessed Isle. 
 
 Bunessan was one of the spots where her work 
 was hea\nest. Accommodation suitable for her needs 
 was hard to find. The population was numerous, and 
 yet wildly scattered, and for her the difficulties were 
 far greater than either in lona or Tii'ce. Wet and wild 
 gales she had often to face under the mountains of 
 Mull. Here, as elsewhere, she was surrounded by 
 a band of willing fellow-workers, who never failed her, 
 and she never grudged her strength in the service of 
 the people. Not always were her classes able to meet,
 
 276 NIGHEAX AX DTUC 
 
 and slio wont tlirour^li many a rouL'li day to keep 
 Iht part of tlio tryst. On one occasion, it took four 
 men, walkinr^ beside her pony-eliair, to ensure that 
 it was not blown bodilv c)fY the precipitous road 
 with her inside it, so fierce were the blasts which were 
 sweepinfj over the place; and the girls, having no 
 one to hold them on to the road, had not faced tlie 
 elements. 
 
 The J)uke, writing to her about this time, alarmed 
 by her journeys, and not in a mood to do justice to 
 n place which was causing her so nnich over-exertion 
 and fatigue, asks, in pretended ignorance, what 
 keeps her in Mull. 
 
 Mv dear V., 
 
 1 was very glad to hear this morning from 
 Bunessan, and admire your pluck in going by that 
 beastly boat, all the way round by Coll, Tiree, and 
 lona. Could yon not get to Bunessan !)y a shorter 
 route ? And, now, what on earth are you going 
 to do at Bunessan ? The dullest place on earth ! 
 Why don't you go to Tiree, with fine skies, and fine 
 seas, instead of muddy ebbs and dirty seaweed ? 
 
 Lady Victoria's correspondents loved teasing her 
 on her choice of abodes. Her dear " Kev., Sir James, 
 Dean " called her Ethica *' your sand-bank," and 
 she returned their chaff, giving as good as she got ; 
 she loaded them all with her pity that their minds 
 were unable to understand how her lines had fallen 
 unto her in fair places.
 
 NIGIIEAN AN DIUC 277 
 
 No one loved more deeply both land and sea, 
 and the blue heavens above her. The sunrises 
 over Jura, which were her winter's joy; the long, 
 curved sweep of the white sands of Gott ; the circle 
 of the islands, glowing in sunset radiance. From 
 lona she looked across the Sound to the " jasper 
 walls " of the Ross, or from Ethica saw the soft 
 cloud-caps gather round the dark hills of Mull. 
 
 She needed all the strength her hfted eyes could 
 gather from them. It was not the sadness of Nature 
 which oppressed her, as the grey mists swept eerily 
 across the sunless seas. She knew they were often 
 but the symbols of the unspoken burden of sorrow 
 and want ; but the remembrance of days " when 
 there follows a mist and a weeping rain, and life is 
 never the same again." It was the knowledge of the 
 storms breaking over many a lonely cottage, and the 
 aching hearts within, which made her mtent on cross- 
 ing the threshold of these homes, bringing the cheer 
 of her voice, and the tender, eager sympathy which, 
 like a ray of sunhght, came with her going out and 
 coming in. 
 
 The sorrows of the year had fallen heavily on the 
 inner sanctuary of her affections. Her heart ever 
 " turned again home," for in the background of all 
 her thoughts and actions there always stood the 
 presence of her father, and the family were but the 
 links which bound her to him. Stronger than death 
 was the love she had borne him from her earhest years. 
 She once said to one of her sisters, that she could 
 never remember the time, after she returned home for
 
 •J78 NIGIIEAN AN DIUC 
 
 good, when she did not count the hours which must 
 pass before she could afjain be in his company. In 
 temperament they were aUke. The ia})i(l thought 
 translated into inunediate action. The strong desire 
 to pour out with voice or pen the ideas which were so 
 pregnant, and burnt till utterance was given to them. 
 Apart lay their roads. DilTerent spheres of influence 
 and action were to demand their energies. Yet 
 through it all ran a thread closer even than that of 
 blood, the golden thread of a connnunity of spirit 
 and an understanding desire to be led into all 
 Truth. 
 
 Dear to her as were her l^rothers, and the sister- 
 hood, they were but the frame to the central figure. 
 The homes where his presence had ordered the daily 
 round, instinct with his vitality, were the dearest to 
 her. As she and her people carried " to the old 
 home " the first to break the band of the seven 
 sisters, she quotes some hues written by Lady 
 Elisabeth, on the land of theii- childhood : — 
 
 " Once again the snowdroixs spring 
 Underneath the ancient beech — 
 I'.ul never again, ah me ! shall ring 
 Childish laughter, lisping speech, 
 Half as sweet in turning years, 
 Seen through mists of unshed tears. 
 
 " Bahy feet that roam'd erewhile 
 'Mong the flowers, tread other ways ; 
 But still the joy of the snowdrop's smile 
 Charms them l>ack to childhood's days ; 
 To their fairyland of dreams. 
 Songs and mists and strange bright gleams."
 
 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 279 
 
 Rest was needed, and it came to her always in 
 lona. The sacred associations of the long past, and 
 the influences which had led her own spirit, made 
 the cathedral to her " none other but the House 
 of God." There she had felt her second consecration. 
 No hands setting her apart had been laid upon her. 
 The wmd blowing where it listeth, through the 
 clustered pillars and arches, had blessed her with the 
 peace which passeth all undcrstandhig. 
 
 Through the nave, whose floor was the thyme- 
 scented turf, her feet had often led her ; till by the 
 window, looking over the translucent seas, she had 
 heard the call that bade her pass through many 
 waters to the havens whereunto she was called, and 
 where her work and the people awaited her. 
 
 One, who was her earhest companion in her visits 
 to lona, writes : — 
 
 We visited the people together, and in the 
 evenings we sat in the rumed cathedral to watch 
 the sunsets. We used to scramble up on the ledge 
 of the south window, and sit there. It was rather 
 difficult for her, but she was not to be daunted. 
 I helped her, and there were loose stones below 
 to assist us. 
 
 Very dear to her was the ruined Church of St. 
 Columba, but many anxieties connected with its 
 history in " the Chmxh Universal " made her hail 
 the dawn of its restoration. 
 
 The General Assemblv of 1896, at its twelfth
 
 280 NIGIIEAX AX DIUC 
 
 scs.siuii, a|)poiiite(l " A Thanksgiving for the intro- 
 duction of the Gospel into our land, to be held on 
 the 9th of June, 1897, the thirteenth hundred anni- 
 vcrsiirv of the death of St. Coluinba, or on the Sunday 
 following." A meeting of Churchmen was held in 
 Edinburgh, and there it was resolved that, whatever 
 other means should be taken to carry out the injunc- 
 tion of the Assembly, arrangements should be made 
 for a special celebration in the island which had been 
 the headquarters of St. Columba's mission and the 
 place of his death. Application was made to the 
 Duke of Argyll, the proprietor of lona, for access 
 to the ancient diunh, built on, or near, the site 
 of the Coluini)an Monastery. 
 
 Although the original building has Inng since 
 disiippeared, it was felt that the memorial service 
 would be most appropriatelv held within the walls 
 of that which had succeeded it. His Grace, at once 
 and cordially, agreed to the request. " T shall," he 
 wrote, '* of course, l>c delighted to help the General 
 Assembly in any way to celebrate the date at that 
 spot." 
 
 The necessar>* preparations were accordingly set 
 about, and, with the hearty and ready assistance of 
 the minister of lona, and the concurrence of the Pres- 
 byter}' of Mull, were completed in full time for the 
 9th of June. 
 
 The chancel, choir, and sacristy of the church were 
 roofed, the windows glazed, a pulpit and harmonium 
 provided, and benches for a congregation of about 
 two hundied and liity fitted up.
 
 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 281 
 
 It was verily a time to be held in remembrance. 
 Pil^'rims, dniwn from every part of the country, 
 gathered into the island, and every cottage and out- 
 liouse was occupied. Lady Victoria took a house in 
 the village, close by the })ort of landing. There she kept 
 open house to all her innumerable friends. One of her 
 sisters stayed ui the house fortheConmiemoration,and 
 recalls it as a time of unclouded brightness with the 
 hostess. She had been charged to bring from London 
 additions to the larder and storeroom. On arrival, 
 she found a small room, set with a dining-table, 
 which tilled its dimensions. Knowles was emerging 
 from the kitchen with a lortlly dish of mince 
 coUops, and laughing over a deficiency of cutlery. Into 
 the room poured the guests, some of the largest 
 ministers in figure and reputation, and at the head 
 of the table sat the laughing, happy hostess, ** re- 
 joicing to see the day," and full of thanksgiving that 
 the strain was again to be upraised ; that her feet 
 were yet to stand within the gates of a church 
 restored to its ancient use. 
 
 On the morning of the 9th she listened to her 
 great friend. Dr. Norman Macleod, preaching in the 
 Gaehc ; for it was felt fitting that the first of the 
 services of Commemoration should be in the ancient 
 language of the Celts, and then she was one of that 
 great congregation, w^hich once again kept the feast, 
 and remembered, " the blest communion, fellowship 
 divine." 
 
 Lady Victoria had helped those deputed by the 
 Assembly to secure the cathedi'al for the Church of
 
 282 NICIIF.AN AN DITC 
 
 Scotland, on that anniversiin* of the thirtoen hundred 
 years since the death of ('<>hiinl)a, the greatest mission- 
 ary ever possessed by the Church of Christ in Scot hind. 
 Deep into her heart s;ink the coiu hiding wonls of 
 the ins[)irinj» sermon by |)r. .Mat(}rep>r. which 
 Bumiued up the great festival. 
 
 From tliis holy service, on this holy spot, let us 
 cany' back with us a warmer devotion to Him 
 whose dying love we are now to remember. If 
 loyal to Him, we cannot helj) being loyal to our 
 Church and country, for our ideals will be high, 
 our lives noble, our homes pure. The Scottish 
 Church and the Scottish State were boni together. 
 They exist this day together. T/Ot us curry hence 
 the determination to do our best, by holy living and 
 by ceaseless prayer, that this long connection shall 
 never be broken. Across the ages S. Columba 
 says to the Si'ottish p«'ople to-day : " These, 
 O children, are the last wonls I commend to you, 
 that, with peace, ye have mutual and unfeigned 
 charity among yourselves." 
 
 Pax vobiscum," wrote Dr. Story to her, as he 
 turned from the cathedral, whiih his request had 
 given to the pilgrims of a day, and deep "as the 
 unfathomed sea "was the peace that rested on her, and 
 went with her as she turned again to her journeys. 
 
 The temporary but ctTcctive preparations, which 
 had roofed an«l made the cathedral ready for its 
 ancient senices, had their effect on all Scotland, and
 
 NIGIIEAN AN DlUC 283 
 
 many were the appeals made to the Duke, that the 
 cathedral mifrht remain in its restored condition. 
 The Uoman Catholics, as was fitting, obtained from 
 those who had heen entrusted with the time of 
 commemoration, the use of the cathedral for a ser- 
 vice, according to the rites of their Church ; and the 
 thoughts of many hearts were turned to the future 
 of the nation's greatest relic of the storied past. 
 
 Two years later the Duke decided to give, in trust 
 to the Church of Scotland, the Abbey Church of lona. 
 He had thought nuich and said little, and even to 
 Lady Victoria the news from him came on the eve 
 of an niformation to the general public. Ecclesiasti- 
 cal strife was always a weariness of the flesh to him, 
 and he could not but know that a restored lona 
 would mean, that those who desired to claim St. 
 Columba as belonging, not to the Church Universal, 
 but to some branch or sect, would be jealous that the 
 Church of Scotland should have in trust this shrine 
 and beacon of the Light of Christianity. The Duke 
 foresaw that, in the future, it could never remain 
 as it had been before the Commemoration, and he 
 determined it should be in charge of " the Scottish 
 Church and the Scottish State which were born 
 together." 
 
 The Duke's letter is brief and characteristic, but 
 it bears the stamp of the conflict " within and 
 without," and the shadows which were gathering 
 round his own days. 
 
 Her own diary has a sentence, even more compres- 
 sed : " Wonderful news of redemption of Cathedral."
 
 284 NIGIIEAN AN DIUC 
 
 Sep. 30///, 1899. 
 
 My dear V., 
 
 I have made over by deed, signed and sealed, 
 all the ruins of lona to the Church of Scotland. 
 In the hands of a body of Trustees, of whom 
 Story LS one. The deed will soon be published, 
 perhaps to-day. Hamish is very excited about 
 it. Ho has been here, and has gone of! to-day. 
 
 My Deed will be grief to the Roman CathoUcs, 
 to the Anglicans, and to the Scottish Anglicans. 
 All pretty nearly equally dishked by me. 
 
 1 hope they will soon put a roof on the Cathedral, 
 and open it with a grand " diet of worship." 
 
 Wyllie l)ruught an account of your " cowp " 
 to-day. We are looking out for a new chair. I 
 can't understand how this one was so rotten. 
 
 Your allectiouate Father, 
 
 Argyll. 
 
 The letter has an explanatory note on it in Lady 
 Victoria's hand : ** Refers to mv wheel Bath chair 
 collapsing. Harold (the pony) behaved angelically. 
 Let me creep out from under the ruins." 
 
 The much-excited *' Hamish " wrote : — 
 
 Oct. bth, 1890. 
 
 Seadh ! Mo leanabh ! Is'e peagairt do irmingh 
 agus obair.* 
 
 It is twenty-two years on the 10th instant since 
 I wrote a long letter to the Duke on the matter, 
 
 ' Yefi ! My child. It is aa aDswer to prayer aud wurk.
 
 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 285 
 
 the first time it had ever been brought before him. 
 It was the result of a meeting between Dr. Story 
 and myself with the late David Richardson, of 
 Hartfield, eight days before. There have been 
 many assaults upon the Duke since then. Circum- 
 stances have led his strong, loyal, and reverent 
 mind to see the matter in its right light, and the 
 result is the great and splendid gift to the Church, 
 to which your family has been from the beginning 
 devoted. His heart is wholly in this business, 
 and we all hope he may be spared to see it finished 
 and the building opened. No time will be lost in 
 putting matters on a sound footing, and raising 
 the necessary money. Receive my blessing. 
 
 Your alTectionate friend, 
 
 James MacGregor. 
 
 P.S. The war, we learn, has begun. God defend 
 the right. 
 
 lona had always meant a home-coming for her, 
 and her friends in the island had been ]\Ir. and Mrs. 
 Ritchie, in the Columba Inn. Their family were 
 among the foremost of her " fellow- workers," and 
 Mrs. Macmillan, at the Manse, and Mlss Ritchie were 
 her right hands in helping with all the plans for 
 the people. 
 
 " Young Ritchie," ever the guide, philosopher, and 
 friend of all who seek the shrine of Columba. His 
 gifts in Celtic art were early discovered, and noised 
 abroad by this his early friend, and the " Columba '*
 
 28G NTOHEAN AN DIUC 
 
 was a true *' giicst-hoiise " whore slie rested. After 
 the Ritchie family had ceased their connection witli 
 it, Lady Victoria always liad a welcome, warm as 
 the love for her piiest, from Mrs. Mackenzie. 
 
 It has seemed best to finish the story of the restitu- 
 tion of lona Catlu'dral here, hut the narrative must 
 now <4i) i)ack to the diaries and letters of Liuly 
 Victoria. 
 
 To Lady Mary Olyn. 
 
 TiREE. A' or., LS'J3. 
 
 I thought that Evey's letter, telling her and all 
 of you my adventures in getting here, would have 
 been ofl long ago. I really don't know when we 
 shall have commimication again with the main- 
 land. The mail-steamer has not called since she 
 landed us on Tuesday morning, in the most wonder- 
 ful lucid interval of this long storm I have ever 
 beheld. After being kept from midday on Friday 
 till Sunday tossing outside, just opposite Ardfinnaicr 
 in the " Dunara," we were ** once more again ' 
 cast up on Bunessiin itself. 
 
 How it recalled old days to me ! Your little 
 despairing face on coming down to the big 
 berth, V. ! " Bunessan again ! " I feel since last 
 summer when you were there, as if you knew some- 
 thing of what 1 mean, when I say I think if we had 
 known, young as we then were, what we might 
 have been to the people had we gone more amongst 
 them. Since coming here, with all the first settling 
 in and inevitable dilTiculties and discomforts,
 
 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 287 
 
 1 have been so struck with the intense love of the 
 people. I am actually staying in the farm of 
 renown, CJieenhill, kept by three McNeill brothers. 
 The orphan lassie who waits upon me is quite 
 dehghtful in her utter want of conventionality. 
 
 I went to bed last night, voiceless with that 
 complaint rare here, a cold. In all that first aching 
 misery a cold gives, I was conscious of her de- 
 manding to know " whether I was better." 
 
 i felt how unutterably selfish one can be in one's 
 work, when I tried so hard, if delayed, to spend 
 the Sunday in lona. The girls at Bunessan, with 
 that short notice, came in force to the evening 
 class. 
 
 I could not have faced Church, feehng rather 
 sea-sicky. I found there was none, only the 
 Baptist. 
 
 I am perfectly determined the benefit of the soup 
 kitchen shall be extended to the children. There 
 is a fear of it " pauperising." It will have to be 
 done for all the schools, or the children won't 
 attend. (It is forgotten that the old form of school 
 is gone.) 
 
 In the first place, I mean the parents of the 
 children who can, to pay. No one has any idea 
 what it is to see theii- pale little faces, and to hear 
 the schoolmasters say, that many come miles 
 with only a potato on their stomachs in the 
 
 mornmg. 
 
 I am fighting it, but the delays in the mails are 
 dreadful. It does seem strange (this sounds bitter,
 
 288 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 
 
 but I don't moan it in this sense) a word from any 
 of the officials fi^oes a great deal farther than from 
 one who has worked for seven years amongst them. 
 Moreover, I have been quite hard about self-help. 
 I know too well the tliriftlessness, and all else. 
 Dr. Donald Macleod, of Glasfrow, wrote me the 
 other day : " Our western Highlands require a 
 special mission, quite as much as any part of 
 Africa." 
 
 I don't want to talk at home about some one case. 
 It would exhaust all they would do. My effort 
 is to secure their help on some great central 
 object. Such as soup kitchens, coflee- and reading- 
 rooms. 
 
 I am much better to-day. Have sent Mrs. Grant 
 to a preliminary meeting of workers about the 
 classes, and to report herself aftenvards at the 
 Manse. 
 
 The ministers here delightful. 1 hope to be 
 " fit " for next week, but I never felt an}'thing like 
 the cold at Bunessan and the worry besides. 
 
 To Mrs. MacPhee, at the Manse of Kilfinnan, she 
 writes on her work in the Y.W.C.A. As " District 
 Keferee " she had nuich to do with the mainland 
 of Argyll, and in many instances managed to visit 
 the local branches. Her warm friendship with all 
 at the Manse was drawn yet closer by the companion- 
 ship of Margaret McPhee. She was the last of the 
 many girl friends and helpers to be with her in the 
 closing days in Edinburgh.
 
 4 
 
 ISI.AXl) HiifSE. 
 
 SCAKINISH HAKHDUR.
 
 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 289 
 
 N(yo. UtJi, 1888. 
 Dear Mrs. McPhec, 
 
 It has been a great refreshment to me to find, 
 in this dark but beloved Argyll, such a Lighthouse 
 as Kilfiniian Church Manse. We ought, surely, 
 very specially to agree together to ask that the 
 Lighthouses become less few and far between. 
 
 The 'Lodge, Tiree. Feb. 14///, 1896. 
 Dear Mrs. McPhee, 
 
 The work here is overwhelming. We have 
 five classes a week, and five treats coming on, 
 in view of my departure next month. It is but 
 slowly strength has returned to me after the severe 
 illness of the sunnner. 
 
 To Lady :Marv CAyn. 
 
 16 Moray Place, Edinburgh. A]ml, 1896. 
 From the length of time I have taken to say 
 so, you would not think how glad I was to get 
 your Easter greeting, although it was not the 
 first thing which took my thoughts out to St, 
 Mary's on the blissful Easter Simday, when Georgy 
 and I took the Communion in dear St. Giles. 
 Dr. Lees preached both morning and evening. 
 Two of his tender, strong human sennons, wuth 
 the ever-fresh remembrance of the host who have 
 gone on before. 
 
 BuNESSAN. Nov. \2th, 1896. 
 Dear I\Irs. McPhee, 
 
 Many thanks for your most kind letter. It 
 
 u
 
 290 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 
 
 is, indeed, a terrible sorrow and shock. Elisabeth 
 was one of the most constant of the sister corre- 
 spondents. 
 
 I had settled down to the Hebridean work earUer 
 than usual, and was called of! as vou saw. Now, 
 please God, I shall go on with the plan of being 
 here all November. lona for December, and getting 
 on to Tirec in January, if my renewed house is 
 by that time ready for me. 
 
 I saw dear old Mrs. Gordon in London, on her 
 way to IMontreux, and in passing through Edin- 
 burgh I saw i\Iiss B. Douglas. I am mdeed glad 
 to hear of the Junior Branch. To mterest them in 
 mission hterature is the thing, I think, which is 
 most right and easiest, for really the papers and 
 books which are pubhshed now are equal in romance, 
 even excitement, to what stories of an ordinary 
 kind are. To say nothing of the unvarying demand 
 of chiklhood, of its being " all quite true." 
 
 I do long that you should organise, develop Guild 
 work. I don't beheve it to be disloyal, or detri- 
 mental to Y.W. interests, or how could I hold the 
 post I do ? With you and your husband being 
 what you are, I feel we owe a loyalty to our Church 
 in the matter, and what with our " Mothers* 
 Unions," Children's Mission League or Union, w^e 
 have handles whereby to grapple with the sore 
 blot of our Land, and I would let the missionary 
 news be the heart of the children's meetings. 
 Telling them of the Y.W.C.A. as a great Christian 
 social union, with all its temporal blessings, its
 
 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 291 
 
 call to purity, and its recognition of all " who love 
 the Lord Jesus." 
 
 I don't mean I have arrived at all this without 
 a fight, and probably even now in some quarters 
 I am suspected of being sectarian ; but I preach 
 the same doctrine wherever the Free Church has 
 its Guild, because I do beheve in the " Society " 
 Christ formed and left, and then we have provision 
 for continuance. 
 
 We have the *' Faith Mission " here just now, 
 and, although personally I don't like women 
 holding forth to mixed audiences, I am thankful 
 our parish minister sees his way to going in heartily 
 with them, even to the Church next Sunday 
 when he is absent. I told him I must go to the 
 Baptist, because I still think St. Paul's " opeenion " 
 about women, perhaps, was the right one ! 
 
 Ask your husband what he thinks of me in this ? 
 Do get your little ones to work for some mission. 
 I am having the bairns here twdce a week, and 
 women and girls on Sunday, and I hope to catch 
 some of the women with " shawl over the head " 
 kind of business in a back room. Get up a mothers' 
 union. 
 
 From the Diary. 
 
 Easter Eve, April I7th, 1897. Edinburgh. 
 
 On Jan. 22nd of this year, Atta McLeod and 
 I got to Tiree, to be greeted by old Knowles 
 and a white kitten from Rosneath, at the Baptist 
 Manse.
 
 292 NIGIIEAN AN DIIJC 
 
 A terrific snowstorm came on, and regular 
 work did not begin before Feb., when we set to 
 with our classes, and continued them till April 
 9th. I intended to get olT on the 13th, but we were 
 defeated, as the cargo-boat could not go out to 
 the " Fingal," so we had to wait till the mail took 
 us to Bunessan, and rolled back, via Tiree, next 
 day. 
 
 Having remains of work to do at Bunessan, 
 and wishing to make sure of getting here in the 
 beloved City in time for Good Friday, made ils 
 determined to persevere. Certainly, never did 
 Edinburgh look more like the Celestial City than 
 it did in the moonhght at ten at niglit. 
 
 Atta joined me yesterday for the St. Giles 
 service. How can one be thankful enough that it 
 has been given to Dr. Lees to wed music and 
 beauty of architecture with purity of doctrine, 
 and such strong spiritual food as it always is ? 
 
 For me to-night, in my nice apartments mider 
 the shadow of the Castle Kock, I wonder, as I wait, 
 what " the nexte thynge " is to be. 
 
 The white kitten was henceforward to be a great 
 companion to her. *' Snowball " occupied a high 
 position in her regard, and had a joint command 
 of the Lodge, in the move which was about to be made 
 there. 
 
 In 1897, the Duke wrote to Lady Victoria con- 
 cerning the Lodge, which was getting ready for her 
 occupation : " The rent I want to charge you on
 
 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 293 
 
 Tiree Mansion is one Barley Corn, and will tell Howe 
 to make out a lease for your life/' 
 
 The days were long past, if they had ever existed, 
 when the Duke thought " I shall not persevere.'* 
 Winter in Tiree had become an established order, 
 and was accepted by all who knew Lady Victoria 
 as an accomplished fact. She came back with the 
 spring ; her appearance bearing no marlcs of devas- 
 tating storms, and the sough of the winds was too 
 far away to rouse more than fitfully the fears of her 
 friends. 
 
 The Lodge, originally built for a school, had then 
 become the gamekeeper's house, was now added to 
 and enlarged, and became a mansion, or a villa, 
 or a palace, according to the ideas of those who 
 watched its walls breaking the outUnes of the Bay 
 of Gott. 
 
 It was to become a City of Refuge, and " the House 
 Beautiful," to many who sought its hospitable doors. 
 It suited Lady Victoria ; in it she could " settle 
 down," and it was a home in which she could have 
 her first, and always greatest happiness, the company 
 of Lord Archibald and of his daughter Elspeth. 
 Her brother was as well knowTi in the island as herself, 
 and Lady Victoria found in his knowledge of the 
 people, and his love of the " wild island," a perfect 
 community of interest. Into the Lodge for the winter 
 work came her fellow-helpers. The girls who taught 
 her many classes, and helped her in a hundred ways. 
 *' Their name is legion." Many of them met their 
 futm-e destiny while with Lady Victoria. She loved
 
 294 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 
 
 them all, and was often possessed with an unnecessary 
 anxiety as to their welfare and future. 
 
 By none of them is she forgotten, and the example 
 of devoted service was a thing which never passed 
 from the possession of those who had both seen, 
 and been called to share it. 
 
 It was right that she should have this house, and 
 she used every inch of its wall spaces ; but her 
 a flections lingered away in the townships of the west- 
 end of the island, where she had begun her work, 
 and experimented on and experienced all manner 
 of cottage homes, and become one with the Macdiar- 
 mid family in Island House. Those were the days 
 when the unknown future was yet before her. In 
 " fear and doubt " she had gone on her way. No 
 good thing had failed her, the " very much land " 
 had become her own, through faith and works. 
 
 To Lady Mary Glyn. 
 1897. 
 Archie has had such a reception in Tiree ; I 
 feel it worth all one has gone through with and 
 for them. Land League 7iecd never have been. 
 " If thou hadst but known," comes to me so 
 often ! 
 
 To the same. 
 
 BUNESSAN. 
 
 Perhaps it is as well in some ways this has 
 grown to be the place of the most unceasing work. 
 I have to set meal-times, rest-times, aside as httle
 
 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 295 
 
 islands in space from the incessant demands. It is 
 far fuller than the other islands of memories of 
 our yacht days, with all their blues and their 
 brightness. 
 
 Edinburgh. April 2nd, 1898. 
 
 I had no intention of giving you the " go-by." 
 I feel it supremely unnatural not to be able to 
 picture you in your new surroundmgs. I was 
 immersed in the last and hardest bit of Tiree 
 campaign. Getting the nurse subject into gear 
 was a heavy addition to all else. 
 
 I arrived here, I\Ioray Place, about 10 p.m. on 
 Tuesday in Passion Week pretty well done. I\Iiss 
 Mackenzie is the nearest thmg to Dottie we have 
 left to us, and for a week I did little but " wurrship " 
 in St. Giles, ending with a beautiful Conmiunion 
 service. 
 
 You do not mention your boy's Confirmation. 
 Do you think I am so true blue, I was not thinking 
 of hun ? I was not sure about Ralph having 
 come to that, but I knew about dear Frank, and 
 my heart went out to him. 
 
 I shall make a point of you about the 11th. I 
 long to be bathed in some music. 
 
 FiONPHORT, opposite lona. Oci. llth, 1898. 
 
 I am in such cosy quarters here till to-morrow, 
 when, as Coll says, " we'll slip across." After a 
 month of Bunessan, lona Cathedral in the setting 
 sim yesterday looked like Jerusalem to the Jews.
 
 296 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 
 
 Dec. 20th, 1899. Tiree. 
 
 Oh, yes ! Tell Teddy this terrible time of war 
 and dread anxiety reaches this lone island. It is 
 the unexpected which, I think, upsets us Campbells, 
 physically. I was horrified to find myself quite 
 unable to go on reading prayers on Saturday, 
 having just been told by the ghillie, in a kind of 
 haphazard way, of Wauchope's fall. News of this 
 had reached the island on Thursday, but the 
 minister, with a vague feehng he was a friend 
 of mine, had kept it from me. 
 
 Mr. West, the English shooting tenant, is on the 
 island, and so he and I had a long " white-man " 
 talk on Sunday. 
 
 He was furious with the red-tape mismanagement 
 on the part of McBrayne, which could make them 
 take Khona Campbell Auchindarroch fast on 
 Friday to Bunessan, and back to Tobermory, 
 when Gott Bay was feasible ; to say nothing of 
 the mails. 
 
 The first landing was eflected last Monday for 
 a week, and we waded through six " Scotsmans." 
 
 Mr. West has lent me " Transvaal from Within." 
 To-day it is as bad as ever. Fortunately, Rhona 
 is with the Allans in Tobermory. 
 
 I was in touch with an lona woman (for service), 
 but she was carried past to Oban, and calmly 
 wires me, she is too fatigued, cannot go to sea no 
 more. 
 
 I am putting irons in the fire, and must hope to 
 get someone.
 
 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 297 
 
 The " lona woman " who pleads fatigue will 
 probably meet with more sympathy from the readers 
 of this letter than she did from a mistress w^ho always 
 felt that idleness and fatigue were both vices which 
 must be overcome. 
 
 No one, who does not know the dreary harbours 
 of Tobermory and Bunessan in Mull, the uncomfort- 
 able steamers, the grey winter wastes of rolling waters 
 which* divide Mull from Tiree, can understand the 
 sinkings of heart (and we may add, of stomach) in 
 being again and again " carried past/' 
 
 One of these victims appealed to Lady Victoria 
 from another point of view. After having been 
 " carried past " three times, she wrote from the main- 
 land, giving up the situation, saying it was clearly 
 not " the wuU of Cod " that she should keep her 
 engagement. 
 
 The year 1899 was one of the last, when she was 
 fully fit to be " on the go." There were to be ten more 
 years of activity, but the pace had begun to tell. 
 The severe illnesses became more frequent, and the 
 recoveries from them were slower, each leaving her 
 on a lower plane. 
 
 Once, when alone with her brother Lord Archibald, 
 she said to him that her Hfe would not be a long one. 
 She was looking particularly well at the time, and he 
 hoped there was no reason for the foreseeing remark. 
 He told her so, but her answer was quiet and decisive : 
 *' I have worked too hard to be long-lived." 
 
 The diary of one year, with the days of actual 
 travelHng and of occupation, is given as a specimen 
 of many similar ones.
 
 
 >> 
 
 298 NIGIIEAN AN DIUC 
 
 1899. 
 Jan. \st. Dropped nurse after llylipol. Service 
 
 on Prayer. Euodias and Syntyche. 
 2nd. Went to Green and far end. 
 ^rd. Far end. Balephuil. Two invalid 
 
 women. Got caught. Baited 
 
 Balinoe. 
 •1//^ Went to Island House. G.25. Furious 
 
 storm began. 
 bth. Ship in distress. 
 1th. Ship relightened. 
 
 Memo. Week of great effort, 
 physical and mental. 
 
 \Olh. Gave up west, because of storm. 
 
 Visited Coalas. 
 VZlh. Took nurse west. Found Dr. Caught 
 in wet. 
 Sat. 28///. Week of great " go." 
 Sun. 2dth. Stayed to both services. Walked 
 home. 
 
 Mail came first time since 3rd. 
 
 Taken ill. Very stormy. Sent John 
 
 on horseback — links. Dr. came 
 
 afternoon. 
 A troubled week ending in peace. 
 Ending with rest, and full of events. 
 
 I kept wonderfully well. 
 
 March 2oth. A very full week. Running down Rest. 
 
 >> 
 
 a 
 
 Feb. 
 
 8//? 
 
 )> 
 
 13//^ 
 
 5J 
 
 ISth 
 
 J> 
 
 25th
 
 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 299 
 
 March 2StJi. Stormy passage. Held nursing com- 
 mittee. 
 
 „ 29///. Arrived at Greenock about five. 
 
 „ 30///. Came to Edinbro'. Feeling, rest and 
 be thankful. 
 
 April 1st. St. Giles service. 
 
 20///. Aucliindarroch. 
 
 21s/. Lochgilphead meeting. 
 
 22mL Went Glassary. 
 
 25///. Came to Largs. 
 
 i 
 
 >> 
 
 May 2nd. Came Douglas Sujiport. 
 
 ,, 5///. " God behind dilliculties." 
 
 ,, 8///. Came to Edinburgh. 
 
 ,, 15///. Drove to Inveresk. 
 
 ,, 19///. Came to Peterborough. 
 
 „ 2167. To Cathedral. " Be strong," from 
 Dean. 
 
 24///. Came to London. 
 
 j> 
 
 June 6///. Started for Brussels. 
 
 1th. Cologne. 
 
 8///. Came to Bethel. 
 
 9///. In bed, headache. 
 
 10///. Running down Rest. 
 
 11/^. Early service chapel. Supper with 
 
 Pastor. 
 
 24///. Faciu" work in future. 
 
 
 
 }> 
 
 July 3rd. Went up Rhine. 
 „ Uh. Very stormy. Started 5.14. Spent at sea.
 
 300 NIGHEAN AN DIQC 
 
 Juhj 5(h. Came to York. 
 ,, 7lh. Came to Edinburgh. 
 ,, 8///. Dentist and friends. 
 „ lOt/i. Lawyer Bank. Y.W.C.A. Queensferry. 
 
 Home. 
 ,, 11///. To DunstafTnage. 
 ,, I'Sfh. School treat. Spoke to girls. Met 
 
 friend of Dr. Lees. 
 ,, l\(h. Came to Tiree. 
 
 15//^ Drove west. Hylijx)! Manse. Week of 
 
 taking stock. 
 18//^ Archie and Elspeth arrived. 
 
 n 
 
 >> 
 
 Aug. 5(h. Full of interest and work, and such 
 beauty. 
 8///. Came to Lismore. Halted at Oban. 
 
 }> 
 
 
 i 
 
 )j 
 
 dth. Went to schools. 
 
 lOth. Kilcherran. 
 
 12///. Opened Sale. Full of work. 
 
 11///. Came to Helensburgh. 
 
 15///. Went to Deaconess Lauiie Fogo. 
 
 U)///. Tu llosneath. 
 
 17///. Visited Clachan. | 
 
 Sep. 17///. Twice to church. Gale rising. New "^ 
 
 interests in old place. 
 IS///. Came to Oban via Crianlarich. 
 19///. Came to Tobermory. Large Y.W.C.A. 
 20///. Great nursing meeting. Desperately 
 
 tired. 
 21s^ Very stormy. 

 
 *NIGHEiVN AN DIUC 301 
 
 Sep. 22nd. Boat did not go on. 
 ,, 2bth. Came to lona. 
 „ 20///. Severe cold. 
 „ 27///. Writing hard. Harold (the pony) 
 
 came. 
 ,, 28///. Preparing for Y.W.C.A. Chair smashed 
 
 up. 
 „ 29///. Visited mother's cross and village. 
 Week of great tension. 
 
 Oct. l.s/. Took Sunday School. Quiet time of 
 preparation. Good class at night. 
 ,, 2nd. Excitement over Cathedral. 
 ,, 2rd. Got to Cathedral. Storm-staid. 
 4///. Got to Kihemore. Meeting evening. 
 5///. Oban meeting at night. 
 ,, 1th. Delightful journey to Ravenswood. 
 Wonderful sense of rest about lona. 
 
 ,, 11///. Went on board at night. 
 
 ,, 12///. Long day in Cavaher. Reached Oban 
 
 midnight. Went on " Fingal." 
 „ 13///. Fearful toss, got to Bunessan. 
 „ l-4//i. A full class, twenty children. 
 
 Nov. \4tli. Very stormy. Kept in. Sending out 
 Fiery X for men. 
 „ 2Uh. Fearful day. Feehng ill. Worry over 
 
 nurse. 
 „ 30^^. Clearing up things. 

 
 302 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 
 
 Dec. 1st. Started for Tirce. Splendid landing. 
 
 „ 2nd. Desperately tired. In bed till after 
 luncheon. 
 
 ,, 9///. Got to both services. 
 
 ,, 10///. Defeated in getting to church. 
 
 ,, 11///. Rliona still at Aros. Fearful day. 
 
 ,, 13///. E.xpect nig Rhona all morning. Started 
 west, defeated. 
 
 ,, lo///. " Fingal " arrived without Rhona. 
 Heard of her back at Tobermory. 
 
 ,, 10///. Terrible news about Wauchope. 
 A week of anxious suspense. 
 
 ,, 20///. Post came. 
 
 ,, 22nd. Rhona arrived. 
 
 ,, 25///. Wild snowy day. 
 
 „ 30///. Week of feeling carried. 
 
 ,, 3167. Only ourselves at church. Very we/, 
 not stormy. War clouds. All tend- 
 ing to make things as dark as can be. 
 Is it a time of Judgment ? 
 
 The description of her interests would not be 
 complete, were they only confined to the work of 
 teaching the girls and women who gathered into her 
 classes. Clothing clubs, milk and soup kitchens, 
 had to be established. Once she saw what she thought 
 " a felt want," nothing would delay the work of 
 supplying it. Giant Indolence was always lying 
 across her path. The fataUsm of the East, and the 
 do-less-ness of the West combine to make a beautiful 
 harmony in the Celt of the mystic seas.
 
 'NIGHEAN AN DIUC 303 
 
 Writing to Lady Victoria, " the Rev. Dean of the 
 Thistle " says, " The Celtic blood in me, on this 
 matter, says, * Do nothing you can help doing/ 
 How have you overcome it ? There must be some 
 Sassenach strain ! " Whatever " the strain,'* the 
 language was always in the spirit of fighting the good 
 fight. The diary only marks the conflicts with words 
 of remembrance. " Tremendous morning of Soup 
 Crusadt'. Balemartine men. Milk raid. Milk battle 
 won." There was no rest in battles won. The conflict 
 had almost certainly opened a vista of some other 
 reform, and at it she went, levering " the middle- 
 man," instructing head-quarters, and making forays 
 among the feckless ones of the island. Many a con- 
 science gave wings to the feet in the townships, when, 
 from afar, the approach of the buckboard told that 
 the reformer was at hand. No flight ever availed 
 those whose dormant energies she intended to rouse, 
 and by letter, or interview, they were all rounded in 
 at last. There is something infectious in the spirit 
 of work, as there is in that of idleness, and the single- 
 hearted desire for the good of all under her eye and 
 hand was too obvious to be long resisted. 
 
 " Lady Victoria was right," has been said in many 
 a quarter since her passing, and best is her memory 
 cherished where the slack purpose is again braced, 
 and loins girded anew for the race of Hfe. 
 
 Some account of the ground covered by her was 
 written for the " Oban Times " by the Rev. William 
 Gillies, who had seen some of her work, though " not 
 in her most active years," while he w^as the minister
 
 304 NIGIIEAN AN DlUC 
 
 of the parish of Kirkapol from 1906-9. " She in- 
 spirod me with courage," he says, writing to one of 
 the family. " Any good that may have resuhod from 
 my mini-stry in Tiree was mainly due to her." 
 
 " In order to have the ailing and bedridden poor 
 carefully attended to, I^idy Victoria strove to have 
 a Jubilee Nurse settled in each district. The nurses 
 were at first regarded as an innovation, and, as in 
 other Highland districts, they met with some preju- 
 dice, but very soon I>iidy Victoria had the satisfaction 
 of seeing the district nurses fully employed, and 
 acknowledged by all sections of the comnmnity to 
 be a necessity. 
 
 '* It was always a great grief to Ljidy Victoria 
 that some children of the cottar class in Tiree and 
 elsewhere should be allowed to grow up without an 
 adequate supj)ly of nulk. She maintained that when 
 she visited the schools, she could })ick out those 
 children who came from homes where no cow was 
 kept. To give these cottar children a chance of 
 growing up strong and healthy like their neighbours, 
 she got the proprietor to subsidise milk cows at 
 different places. In this way, all who required milk 
 were supphed, whether they were in a position to 
 pay or not. 
 
 " It was LRady Victoria's sharp eye that detected in 
 the young people of the Ross, lona, and Tiree a genius 
 for wood-carving. She brought instructors to the 
 districts, who developed the btent talent. Her 
 success in this direction is widely known. Artistic 
 designs lay ready at hand on the sculptured stones
 
 ^NIGHEAN AN DIUC 305 
 
 ill the graveyards of Tona and Kirkapol, Tiree. The 
 pupils found beautiful Celtic patterns to inspire 
 them. These, with various modifications, they 
 transferred to wood with surprising results. The 
 exquisite panels in the pulpit of the new Parish 
 Church in llyhpol, in the erection of which Lady 
 Victoria took an active part, will ever remain a 
 monument to her success in reviving a forgotten 
 art. 
 
 " She never lost sight of the necessity of bringing 
 the Ross of Mull, lona, Tiree, and other outly- 
 ing places, into closer touch with the mainland. 
 She herself frequently experienced the trials and 
 dangers of voyaging in these stormy waters, and of 
 being ferried in places where, as she truthfully 
 declared, only lifeboats should be used. Among the 
 many schemes that occupied her busy brain, the pro- 
 curing of a {)ier for Tiree had a foremost place. When 
 she visited the island in her younger days in her 
 father's yacht, she had seen engineers taking sound- 
 ings and surveying Gott Bay, with a view to the 
 erection of a pier. From the facts submitted to her, 
 she firmly beheved that the construction of a service- 
 able pier was possible, and that it would prove an 
 inestimable boon to the commmiity. She was, 
 therefore, unceasing in her efTorts to procure this 
 blessmg for the people, and the success that attended 
 the last scheme was largely due to her unwearied 
 advocacy and to her influence. 
 
 " Lady Victoria was fortunate in ha\Tiig the 
 satisfaction of seeing much of what she strove so
 
 306 NIGHEAN AN DIUC 
 
 hard for, bciiig realised. A telegraph cable was laid 
 to the islands of Coll and Tiree. The postal arrange- 
 ments were greatly improved. The mode of travelling 
 to and from the islands was rendered more comfort- 
 able, and this year, before taking her last farewell of 
 Tiree, she had the pleasure of seeing the pier stretching 
 well out into Gott Bay, and about half finished." 
 
 The nursing of the poor and sick was the thing 
 that she had from the beginning most on her heart. 
 Poverty that could not command good nursing, 
 and disease and weakness which could be reheved 
 by trained and tender skill, engrossed her attention 
 at once. She had an almost pathetic belief in the 
 heahng art, and no scepticism ever tinged her faith 
 in the medical profession. 
 
 That the islands should have good doctors and 
 highly trained nurses was to her a simple necessity. 
 
 Unfortunately she could not see eye to eye always 
 with those who managed these affairs, and one of 
 the sharpest and most wearing controversies through 
 which she ever passed was on the question of whether 
 the islands should have the nurses whose skilled 
 training meant heavy expenses, or the less highly 
 
 trained, which meant economy. 
 
 She had no s}Tnpathy with " the penny- wise and 
 
 pound-fooUsh " economy where the poor were con- 
 cenied. Lady Victoria won and kept for Tiree the 
 boon which ought to be appreciated by the people, 
 the presence in the island of a fully trained nurse. 
 To achieve this, it was necessary to break off from the
 
 NIGIIEAN AN DIUC 307 
 
 Association whose officials, with a wonderful lack of 
 understanding of the character they were fighting, 
 and with an unusual absence of courtesy and kindli- 
 ness, had caused her much vexation of spirit. Neither 
 party seems to have been absolutely sympathetic 
 with the outlook of the other. When the " bonny 
 fecht " was over she bore no grudge, and was ready 
 to see all the humours of the fray, and her own 
 impetuous onsets throughout the battle-royal she 
 describes in a letter to Mrs. Macdiarmid. 
 
 Tobermory. Sep. 1st, 1904. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Macdiarmid, 
 
 I think that panacea which often ])efore this 
 has saved the lives of us Argylls, i.e. the sense of 
 the ludicrous, has come to me this evening, after 
 meetings. I am sure Mr. Macpherson has given 
 you the grave, anxious side ; but, wliile too tired 
 to tackle all the outing which lies before me, I must 
 give you " the ludicrous." 
 
 After they had all voted for status quo, although 
 shewn the constitution no longer represented facts, 
 then I said : " There is but one thing to be done 
 now. I resign. I take with me my two Com- 
 mittees." 
 
 There was a flutter ! After I\Ir. Macpherson left, 
 with a handshake, which I think meant : " You 
 have been good and kept your temper," a point 
 Mr. McVean, I could see, was dreadfully nervous 
 over. When he came to fetch me, I said : "I 
 think you can trust me to behave as my Father's
 
 308 NIGIIEAN AN DlUC 
 
 danjrlitor." f had two delicious flings! 1 think, 
 just before the vote was taken, Mr. S. siiid : " Don't 
 you think it might be remitted to local com- 
 mittees ? " " Vt's, indeed," I repHcd. One is 
 Mrs. M., who knows so well the value of the fully 
 trained nurse. kShe was busy getting one, while 
 legislating for us ; that anyone would do ! She said : 
 " Because I thought I was told there was a lack 
 of money." " Yes," I (lured, " you judge every- 
 thing by £ s. d." 
 
 Another scene ! After T had given in my resig- 
 nation, while A. was putting away his things, I 
 said : " Now my lips are freed. 1 thought I had 
 seen sad things in our lonely places, but I never 
 saw a place terrorised like Tobermory ! Who of ? 
 You ought to kn(»w, but I suppose it Ls yourself ! " 
 
 Imagine some of them sending me a message : 
 " Tell I^uly V. we agree with her." Then, why 
 did you not so vote ? 
 
 I
 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 »> 
 
 REST AND BE THANKFUL 
 
 " My half-day V work is done, 
 And Ihie is all my {Kirt ; 
 I ^ive n jmlient (Jod 
 My piiticiil heart," 
 
 From Diary. 
 
 Jan. G///, 1900. Tiree. 
 
 Doctor and inspector. Clearing up. Good 
 '' carving-class. Week closer on better news from 
 South Africa. ^Vnxious about father. 
 
 The anxiety deepened through the following weeks, 
 and soon it was clear that there was to be no return 
 of the wonderful vitahty which had sustained the 
 strength of the Duke. 
 
 On March 24th Lady Victoria reached Inveraray, 
 and in another month, as she notes in " the time of 
 the singing of birds," the end had come. 
 
 From that hour the ties which bound her to home, 
 and to the work among " His people," were loosened. 
 
 Later on, she writes from Campbeltown to Lady 
 Mary Glyn : " I cannot bear to think of that beautiful 
 harbour without Him. But all places live anew to one, 
 in another sense, if one has human interests there." 
 
 309
 
 310 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 In that spirit she was able to continue her labours 
 through the scenes haunted with thronging memories : 
 
 *' Take, O boatman, thrice thy fee ; 
 Take, — I give it willingly ; 
 For, invisible to thee, 
 Spirits twain have crossed with me." 
 
 Henceforward there was a more wistful outlook 
 for " the rest that remaineth/* and her thoughts were 
 more detached from the many claims of her outward 
 occupations. 
 
 Her advisers were pressing on her the desirabihty 
 of winters passed in regions other than the islands. 
 Warmer climates were recommended, but the real 
 object aimed at was to limit the sphere which called 
 upon her energies. She went again to Kaiserwerth, 
 in Germany, and two winters were spent with her 
 niece Lesley Clough Taylor, the one at Geneva and 
 the last in Rome. When Lady Victoria had made 
 up her mind to this adventure, she was filled with 
 amusement as to the probable interpretation which 
 would be put upon her " going to Rome." Lord 
 Guthrie did not fail to remind her that in pre- 
 Reformation days a Victoria Campbell, daughter of 
 an Earl of Argyll, had been a nun, and another might 
 follow the ancestral example. Both winters she 
 thoroughly enjoyed. She found jeunes files to 
 address at Geneva, and WaMensians in Rome to 
 support. " Decided against Vatican," which appears 
 in the daily notes, alluded to an expedition to see 
 its wonders, and not its Head. The last record in the
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 311 
 
 diary is given, and the letters which follow are in 
 their order of subjects. 
 
 Last entry in Special Diary. 
 
 Feb. 2nd, 1901. The Lodge, Tiree. 
 
 What worlds have " rolled between " since the 
 last entry until to-day, when our beloved Queen's 
 body has been laid to rest. Lome, in his official 
 duty, receiving it at Windsor Castle. A little before 
 Xmas he warned me he saw a change, but anything 
 happening to Her seemed unbelievable. When, 
 on Jan. 21st, I got a telegram from Archie, speaking 
 of " a rally," I had a sense of shock. I have been 
 between bed and couch, thus my going to London, 
 for which I had a longing and yet a shrinking, 
 has been impossible. I should have hked to 
 see the wonderful sight, and hear the glorious 
 music. 
 
 Here, I think I have been able, spurred on by 
 a telegram from Archie, to get ministers and the 
 factor to mark the event by piper procession and 
 church services. 
 
 After a storm of wind and snow and sleet ever 
 since she went, it did seem like a special bene- 
 diction to have such a day of blessed sunshine. 
 From morning to night it was one vista of beauty. 
 The Mull hills deep in snow, seen first with the 
 morning hght, then in evening's crimson glow. 
 Mr. Macdiarmid after service in Kirkapol Church 
 marched the five pipers up to the gate here and 
 proclaimed the King.
 
 312 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 Then the pipers played laments in the hall, 
 and came in to shake hands and bid me farewell. 
 Mr. Macdiarmid was pleased with my well-merited 
 praise, for he had managed it very well ; he and 
 the ministers and I\Ir. Barr worked splendidly. 
 
 To Lady Mary Glyn. 
 
 TiREE. Dec. 20th, 1901. 
 
 I hkc to think of so many of you being together. 
 If ever the day comes when the needs of these 
 Islanders would not press even more heavily on 
 me, were I away from them, I should hke to join 
 an Enghsh Xmas. As it is, as time wears on, one 
 feels afresh what it is for a community to have no 
 one " to look up to." I mean in the sense of giving 
 them any httle cheer. 
 
 I have had rather a nasty knock up. Came from 
 Mull desperately tired. 
 
 Such sunshine to-day, as I write lazily in bed- 
 room for mail ! 
 
 Geneva. Jan. 3rd, 1902. 
 
 My dearest Mary, 
 
 I could not make out whether you were 
 actually spending Christmas in the old haunt, 
 and hesitated to write, only shooting ofi cards to 
 the bairns, and quite in accordance with your 
 views about its being for them one keeps high 
 day. 
 
 I have been so living in spirit where that brave, 
 true, and noble Ufe was hovering (Aixhbishop
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 313 
 
 Temple). The final news came on Christmas 
 evening, when I had insisted on looking from a 
 raised room up two steps at the Tree hghted by 
 the widow landlady for the anmsement of her 
 exiled guests, and having hstened through dinner 
 to a string band, while a sumptuous banquet 
 had been served. 
 
 I felt, deep down, a wee bit sick, thinking of the 
 mother's way of keeping it, remembering the poor, 
 etc. etc. 
 
 I asked an Enghsh lady if she had seen the latest 
 paper. " He is dead," she answered. I was glad 
 to let Lesley finish the twirling round which the 
 children and girls had begun (only one old pater 
 in this hotel) and let her join me before making a 
 move up. I could have cried. I know what it 
 means to you and Teddy. 
 
 The truth is, wuth no mention of it in the Enghsh 
 Church yesterday, thinking of the wonderful beauty 
 of the sun rising (a la Inveraray), tipping the 
 mountain-tops with fiery gold and crimson, I had 
 let it go by me. I felt as if the vigorous con- 
 stitution would again assert itself. 
 
 How touchmg his last speech on the Education 
 Bill ! It read like a farewell ! 
 
 Yes, dearest Mary, I love kith and kin. I own 
 the first Christmases in the lone Island were hard 
 work. Since one made them " keep it," it became 
 a festival to the Httle group of ministers, school- 
 masters, etc. It made one wae to think of them 
 missing it. I wondered more and more, even in
 
 314 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 the simplest Hotel life, how people can do it for 
 long, and short of the sternest duty. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 March, 1902. 
 
 Although very well j)liysi(;ally, I am desperately 
 head tired. I never thought, save for one, I could 
 care for land questions, i.e. settlement, as I have 
 done. All the longing to bring classes together 
 without the middle-man. Seeing, as one can't 
 help doing, " both sides." The unutterable touchi- 
 ness of the people. Their simplicity, leading them 
 to be duped by mercenaries. 
 
 I feel it is selfish to leave them, but I think 1 
 have done all I can meanwhile. Would that it 
 could have been more. 
 
 It has been a stifl campaign ever since we landed 
 in lona. 
 
 For weeks I have been pledged to dear Fanny 
 Mackenzie for some days. My dear ! I am running 
 in like Cinderella ! I am only fit for an old friend's 
 house, till 1 can look round. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 LiSMORE. 1903. 
 
 I think Tiree was a success with the httle 
 Balfours. Oswald reminds me mentally of Papa. 
 Such an appreciation of scenery I never saw in so 
 young a child. Dear httle people. Somehow, my 
 maiden — grandmotherly heart — Martha, all else 
 went out to them nearly as much as it did to Lesley. 
 
 «
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 315 
 
 We halted at lona one night. The " Cottage 
 Nurse " there in addition to the Queen's, as well as 
 here, a great success. On Friday last, I am happy 
 to say, Mr. Allan, at Tobermory, was beaten, 
 seventeen to six, in an attempt to foist them on 
 two of our districts, instead of the all-round 
 trained ones. 
 
 I beheve Eustace accuses us of never ending a 
 letter without descriptions of a sunset ! I nmst 
 beghi with the morning on the mountains. Such 
 a beautiful httlc smack with brown sails, just with 
 its snail-pace making for the shore ; and I knew 
 the wife was looking so anxiously to see it would be 
 all right in a fast-approaching thunderstorm. It 
 seemed to " go over us," in answer to an unspoken 
 prayer, as 1 hurried, escorted by this redoubtable 
 woman, past a bull, and with thunder roUing. 
 I said : '* Ahem ! these storms not so bad for ships, 
 as the wind ones." Here, then, she is, at 7 a.m., 
 trymg to make for the cottage below me on a 
 painted ocean. H ever the words, " As the moun- 
 tains are round about Jerusalem," hved for one, 
 it is in this glorious plateau of an Island. 
 
 I meant to have written to Ralph when I heard 
 of his success, from Tiree. I never had a more 
 crowded five weeks. I feel such a longing, as 
 members of the family have taken to Island hfe, 
 that our own should suffice. I feel such a (holy ?) 
 jealousy over it all ! 
 
 I can say it because it is in the departments, 
 especially where we can say, " Because I am one
 
 316 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 of father*s children," it seemed as though one 
 purpose of the call to Hft anchor last winter was 
 to show one it must not happen again. Never have 
 I known since the 80's such deep discontent in 
 Tiree. Nearly all of it traceable to mismanage- 
 ment. 
 
 To the same. 
 Dec. 28///, 1903. 
 
 I have had a knock up with a tired chill, 
 though hoping to get out to-day for first time for 
 three and a quarter weeks. The people I lent the 
 house to last year broke my Inhaler, so, pending 
 getting another, I was working with a wee jug 
 when it splashed over my arm. The wicked old 
 Dr. said it was a " providence," as it gave me rest. 
 
 The last entry for the year is : — 
 
 Been a time of great weariness. Grot to know 
 nm*ses well. Kelpworks. Great nursing difficulty 
 settled so far. 
 
 In spirit with all Christ's people to-night. 
 
 From Diary. 
 
 Tiree. Jan. Sth, 1904. 
 
 Ran to see sick cases. Dr. not pleased. 
 
 To Lady Mary G1}ti (on the Church Case). 
 Ion A. 1904. 
 I think her dear heart would have broken, 
 could she have foreseen this Judgment, ^^^lat a
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUT. " 317 
 
 marvellous old man the Lord Chancellor is in his 
 subtle arguments ! Do tell me what Archbishop 
 " Chimes " (Maclagan) says on the occasion. Tell 
 him I long to know. How I wish he could per- 
 suade them to " discourse sweet music ! " Do 
 you remember, " the harmony of our wills with 
 God's will " ? 
 
 Ritchie's things are beautiful, but I wish they 
 could- have combined it with help to the people 
 in founding a school here. 
 
 Some of the letters which were written to Lady 
 Victoria through these years reflect the news they 
 have received of her undying remembrance of all the 
 life and interest of the mainland, and her frequent 
 demands that her kith and kin should let her hear 
 all that was going on. If there was reticence on such 
 matters, it was onl}- from the common knowledge 
 that if she thought she could be of use, she would 
 ** fling herself into the fii'st cargo-boat " and come off 
 to be at the disposal, as she termed it, of those who 
 were in very present straits. She never demanded 
 sympathy for her own remote Hfe. She was hterally 
 too busy to write or think of herself ; if it had been 
 otherwise, these pages might have told her own out- 
 look and not the vision, as it was seen by others. 
 Miss Coventry, WTiting on her " Life," in the sense 
 that it had passed and was about to be written, says : 
 
 I don't think I ever knew anyone who did so 
 much, and said so httle about it. In fact, not only
 
 318 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 ** so little," but actually nothing, i.e. her share of 
 it, for of that she never spoke to me ! And I doubt 
 if anyone would be more surprised than herself 
 to find what you are finding as the result of her life 
 of unselfish devotion amongst them. A real case 
 of, " \Mien saw we Thee ? 
 
 
 There were many friends who never forgot her, 
 remembered ever the way she had gone, thought of 
 her as winter storms swept over the sheltered 
 city streets, and when her well-known and most 
 tantalising handwriting came to them through the 
 mail, they knew she was thinking of their peculiar 
 sphere, and was going to use them for her own 
 " irons in the fire," or as " links " in a chain of good 
 works. Sometimes, those who loved her well read 
 between the lines they so slowly deciphered that the 
 spirit was flagging, or the perplexities were pressing 
 on her always over-anxious mind. Their answering 
 letters of understanding were kept by her, and bear 
 evidence of having been often re-read. 
 
 She asked advice of many, and it was sent back to 
 her wrapped in the words which bid her be of good 
 cheer, for she was not forgotten. Many of these 
 letters fill blanks in the records of her days, and a few 
 of them are placed here as evidences that her thoughts 
 were often afield. 
 
 The first is from the late Dr. David Clement Scott, 
 one of the many letters she had in answer to those she 
 wrote to the workers in the Church's far-flung battle- 
 lines.
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 319 
 
 From the Rev. David Clement Scott (Blantyre), 
 
 TuNBRiDGE Wells. August 3lst, 1892. 
 
 Dear Lady Victoria, 
 
 I thank you so very much for your letter. 
 I have never heard a better name for Dr. Charteris 
 than " Professor Pax." He is not Professor Pax 
 quite regarding Africa, because he writes to me 
 about it and also to others, but in a whispering 
 gallefy as far as our Committee is concerned. 
 
 One never saves his life by carefully watch- 
 ing it, and I fear Reconstitutions of a good 
 many bodies will suffer by timidity and despond- 
 ency. 
 
 A good deal of faith is needed when one comes to 
 face problems of God's presence and judgments 
 among the powers that be. And yet that which 
 does not fulfil its trust must resign its power, but 
 at what a cost ! I have been translating the 
 Gospels, and with only Greek and Mang-anje 
 before one, the vividness of these marvellous books 
 is greater than I have ever yet seen. One interprets 
 and translates, however, from all the memory one 
 has, and all the memories the world has of a mighty 
 past, as well as from experience of pain and trial 
 and Ufe discipline presently experienced. I shall 
 write to you from Africa, if I may. We sail on 
 Saturday at 2 o'clock, s.s. " Mexican," from South- 
 ampton. 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 
 David Clement Scott.
 
 320 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 From the Rev. Dr. Cliarteris. 
 
 1902. 
 Your notes of your journey are very interesting. 
 I believe I\Ir. Brechin, the new minister in Paris, 
 is a very fine young fellow. I know liis wife is 
 charming, and his father-in-law, the Rev. WilUam 
 Smith, of Unst, is a very fine type of the old 
 Scottish minister. I am glad you saw them. 
 You are a thorough Presbyterian ! 
 
 There are some people in Geneva who have always 
 taken a great interest in our Church of Scotland 
 service. A Mr. Bossi and a ]\Ir. Bois, I think. 
 
 They once, three of them, dined with us, and 
 I remember when a syphon was slowly distilUng 
 its ginger ale in a tempest of froth one of them 
 watching the other said : " Ma foi, besoin de 
 patience/' which has become a proverb with us since. 
 
 Yes, I see very well the Highland child is home- 
 sick : trying French service, German service, 
 reading of Gaehc Bible, and moralising on the 
 excellent school " Lesley " is attending, in order 
 to keep down the lump in her throat and dry up 
 the haziness in her eyes. They are looking, those 
 poor eyes, to find rough Highland hills in Mount 
 Blanc's smooth cold snow, and hear the swish of 
 Atlantic waves in the ripple of the Lake of Geneva. 
 And then you croon to yourself the hymn : 
 
 " Oh, think of the home over there ! " 
 
 And you find comfort in this, that you are doing 
 your duty. God bless you in doing it.
 
 "KEST AND BE THANKFUL" 321 
 
 From The Very Rev. The Dean of the Thistle, 
 Edinburgh. 
 1904. 
 
 I wish you a pleasant voyage and speedy return 
 to us, but do not wish to let you go without saying 
 how grateful I am to you for your kmd help, in 
 regard to our new Guild. 
 
 Frorfi Dr. Charteris. 
 
 1905. 
 
 I w^onder how you are in these gales ; I think 
 I see you bending to one side in your buckboard 
 to meet all this fury of the blast ! 
 
 It is clear that the Church Controversy won't be 
 cleared up by an Act of ParUament in the current 
 year. The Commission Report won't be ready, 
 surely. 
 
 Do you care for a creed ? 
 
 Ever, dear senior associate, yours very affec- 
 tionately. 
 
 Sep. 2&h, 1895. 
 
 May you have a real good, useful, happy time ! 
 and may many, many, even in the present time, 
 rise up and call you blessed ! 
 
 May your own heart rejoice in peace and rest in 
 the Lord. May yom-s be health and strength, and 
 every good thing of heaven and earth. 
 
 I wish you much blessing in your visit to Tiree ; 
 many souls brought nearer to Christ ; many 
 untrained recruits trained to fight the battle of
 
 322 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 the Lord in their own cottage, chichan, and village. 
 God be with vou. 
 
 A. If. ClIARTERIS. 
 
 The Rev. George Wilson, d.d., St. Michael's, 
 
 Edinburgh. 
 190G. 
 Dear Lady Victoria, 
 
 I will gladly send you a parcel of elementary 
 teaching on the Lord's Supper. But 1 know of 
 nothing in English that will meet your need. 
 What is wanted is a tender and faithful statement 
 on the fact that coming to the Lord's Table is 
 for the Christian, not permissive, but imperative. 
 And another fact which should be tenderly and 
 faithfully set forth is that those who are not fit 
 to come to the Lord's Supper are not fit to present 
 their children for baptism. Can you not find a wise, 
 spiritually-minded Gaelic minister who will write 
 a readable httle book on these lines ? I have long 
 thought the state of the Highland mind on the 
 Lord's Supper a kind of Christian scandal. I 
 know the feehng of the " shrinking " Highlander, 
 but surely the Pastors should try at least to let 
 in the hjzht. 
 
 Ever yours, 
 
 George Wilson. 
 
 *o' 
 
 Li these later years there were more meetings of 
 the familv in the summer months in the islands. 
 Lady Victoria was jealous when they were in islands 
 *' not our own," but she went to see Lord and Lady
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 323 
 
 George in Jura, the little Balfoiirs found her in Tiree, 
 and lona was often colonised by those granddaughters 
 the Duke called " the Suffragan Bishops." " Week 
 of great beauty. Pleasure in Glyn girls," is her 
 remembrance of these days. She loved to find herself 
 with the young generation, and the letters to the 
 absent parents, not half as anxious as the " Martha " 
 Aunt, wore full of detail. In lona she trusted Mr. 
 McPhail to aid her in a watchfulness she could not 
 exercise when they took to the boats. " I tell 
 McPhail I do put my trust in man," she writes. 
 McPhail liad more than once withstood her own 
 intention of crossing the Sound, when it was a smother 
 of foam below, and of drifting blasts above ; days 
 when she would have quaked to let anyone but herself 
 put foot in a boat. 
 
 To keep her trysts, and to do her work, Lady 
 Victoria had always a firm conviction that the way 
 would be made plain. It was not always so clear 
 to those who had to take her across the ferry. Their 
 fiiith did fail them. She once, not too well pleased 
 to meet with opposition, told McPhail he was no 
 Christian. The answer she received was conclusive, 
 that he preferred they should be Hving Christians 
 on lona, than dead ones at the bottom of the Sound. 
 
 loNA. Se^. I8th, 1905. 
 My dearest Mary, 
 
 With the preface that the trio are dehghtful, 
 I shall give you details to make you laugh, but mind 
 you don't betray me.
 
 324 '"REST AND HK TIlAXKFri/' 
 
 Let nic recommend to all parents the Isles for 
 an ovcr-dovelopmcnt of tli<' Free-will. 1 hope 1 
 shall find the Clerk of the " Dunara " to explain 
 how (as I suspected) that route was closed. I 
 handed it to Ralph, who, however, had got th- 
 in format ion of another new quick connnuuication 
 with Small Isles, so he came prepared to catch that 
 connection by leaving to-morrow with the " Grena- 
 dier." 
 
 Maisie came of! the steamer with the gauz« 
 veil, and sat opposite me with a look, half of absent 
 ** stares," so like Mama, mixed up with Teddy, it k 
 was all I could do to prevent laughing. She and I 
 I gOvSsiped till one o'clock luncheon, while Meg 
 went out with Ralph to vapour about McPhail, 
 as Pock would have s«ud. We have Mrs. Dixon 
 in the house, the mother of the Professor of 
 Literature. She gave me a sense of rest, as I got 
 over feeling head tired on such a glorious eveiung. 
 I went up to see their rooms, and exhort sheets be 
 extm aired. I had Ralph's fire laid. Then, that 
 afternoon, I bathed my soul with this delightful 
 literature person. I own that I have had as strenu- 
 ous a six weeks as I ever had. I feel something 
 " resting " in the bairns, while begijining again 
 the routine here to-day. 
 
 Saturday afternoon they all elected to come 
 with me in pony-chair, with the promise of fishing 
 between tea and dinner, rabbit - shooting after 
 dinner by moonUght. 
 
 This last, I thought, sounded doubtful, but I
 
 ""REST AND BE THxVNKFUL " 325 
 
 held my peace, and again had a great inward sniile 
 when Ralph and Maisie, who seemed to be his 
 shadow, said : *' MclMiail says it is too dark ; 
 can see nothing smaller than a haystack." I 
 rephed : ** Yes, you might be the rabbit." So, 
 instead of this, these two sportive persons went out 
 to see Professor Dixon's boat drawn up for the 
 winter by moonlight, which, Maisie declared, was 
 a wottd sight. 
 
 Bi'fore dinner Meg and f walked over to the 
 Cathedral. I showed her the window where we sat 
 langsyne, after coming over the Bishop's wall. 
 
 Sunday we worshipjjcd very nuich according to 
 the Presbyterian rites. Winn 1 apologised for the 
 absence of hymns, explaining how they were 
 always used now in modern churches, ]\laisie said 
 reprovingly : '* Oh ! 1 do like the paraphrases so 
 nuich." I felt small. Then Meg : " I would much 
 rather go to this Cathedral, than the one down 
 there," signing to the Cowley Fathers. 
 
 Then on Sunday the trio walked, and got well 
 away before I had the Class in the dining-room. 
 We had high tea in the evening. 
 
 As you will see, the Islands are the last places 
 to let one get one's own way entirely. 
 
 If Lady Victoria did not always get her own way 
 in the islands, neither did the islanders mider her 
 beneficent laws for their welfare. " She would gie' us 
 an awful cult with one hand, but she wad aye be liftiii 
 us up wi' the ither," was said by one who hved under
 
 326 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 her rule. She was always convinced that her view of a 
 situation must be the right one. Due largely from the 
 integrity of her purpose, which had no other aim in 
 view, save the good of those whose walk in life she 
 wished to stimulate and direct. 
 
 loNA. Sep. 2lst, 190G. 
 
 My dearest Mary, 
 
 It is strange and nice the way in which the 
 Hielan' Mary's Birthday, always (of late years) in 
 the autumn manoeuvres, finds me in a place in 
 which there is an ijiefTable peace, and so do I 
 feel it. 
 
 Another of these glorious days, which have come 
 to bless us after a pre-equinoctial period in Bimes- 
 san. One has an increasijig joy in the beauty of 
 it all. 
 
 It has been a strenuous time there with nursing, 
 clothing clubs, etc., so that when we Uterally 
 ghded across yesterday evening from Fionphort 
 (where I had put in three nights) as in a gondola, 
 it seemed hke Heaven ! I had leisure to think of 
 my kith and kin, and toddled with my German maid 
 to the fast-disappearing stock of Miss Muir, at the 
 end of our Columba garden, to seize upon two 
 httle articles I don't think you have seen yet. 
 
 The Harvest is a good fortnight behind, and the 
 Islanders are all working frantically. 
 
 McPhail out in an expedition with nearly every 
 child for a picnic on Kintra, so I had a kind of 
 royal private landing, with Aichie MacArthur
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 327 
 
 helping one, as no woman ever does (I don't mean 
 strength). 
 
 loNA. Sey. 2\sl, 1907. 
 
 My dearest Mary, 
 
 I was dehghted with your Bairns yesterday, 
 as showing real gold of character. 
 
 I had pm-posely not even proposed their singing 
 at one or both of the women and girls' teas. Even 
 after Miss Ritchie proposed and requested, I said 
 I would leave utter freedom, but would pass it 
 on. 
 
 Maisie said as a singer had promised to give one 
 or two she would not be wanted, but would help 
 in handing things. 
 
 I arranged all for their fishing. High tea, supper, 
 etc. When she learnt that Mrs. Lamb had failed, 
 on the spot she produced quite beautifully, " Ye 
 banks and braes." It is indeed a wonderful gift. 
 A glorious voice. Then she managed so well to 
 get them to join in the chorus of " Bonny Dundee." 
 She nearly did for me ! 
 
 They arc boating whenever feasible. I feel quite 
 at rest. I told jNlacPhail I put my trust in man 
 with regard to him in this. 
 
 They are great darhngs, and beloved here. 
 Life is a hustle here, as elsewhere, but I thought 
 I must just tell you and Teddy what joy it was to 
 me. 
 
 What memories crowd round one ! Do you 
 remember Georgina Ritchie bringing us the cups
 
 328 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 of tea in the window of the south transept ? 
 Ameha's shock ? My telHng her, and you, our 
 Lord would have fed the multitudes ? 
 
 Two Belgians here for quarries, turned up 
 yesterday. Mrs. Mackenzie pleaded with me for 
 the French. I did what was necessary for the 
 moment, then told her to tm-n to nieces if required. 
 
 From the Rev. A. Fleming, d.d. 
 
 Kingussie. 1907. 
 
 I have more than once since our visit to lona 
 
 meant to write to you ; for that visit opened my 
 
 • eyes in a way that they have never been opened 
 
 before to all that you are, and have been, to the 
 
 Islands. 
 
 I confess that it was with much wonder and 
 admiration that we both reahsed all the hardships, 
 all the obstacles and difliculties, your triumphant 
 faith and unalterable devotion had enabled you, by 
 God's goodness, to overcome, and how much your 
 name meant to many an unknown old woman 
 crooning over the fire, tholing her rheumatism 
 and bronchitis all alone, and with no earthly name 
 that was magic to her save that of Lady Victoria. 
 The sick and poor of Mull, lona, and Tiree are your 
 intercessors at the Throne, and your monument 
 stands on a high hill among them — to those who 
 have eyes to see it — out in the seas of the west. 
 I shall always now think of you as " The Lady of 
 the Isles," and your ministry there shall be for 
 a remembrance for you.
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 329 
 
 You might — forgive my saying so ! — be at any 
 number in Ainslie Place, so far as your calligraphy 
 " is concerned." God speed your coracle. 
 
 Rome. Dec. 2lst, 1907. 
 
 My dearest Mary, 
 
 Such a longing comes over me to have father 
 and Dottie to tell over their memories here, as one 
 recalls scraps of news, old letters, when they in 
 one of our old carriages entered all the ways. No 
 wonder Papa travelled for two years with Docky. 
 We are estabUshed en Pension with a glorious 
 view over the old city. St. Peter's being the centre- 
 piece. The sunsets a joy, especially to me who, of 
 necessity, am somewhat of a stay-at-home. 
 
 Lesley and I have read together the Bible, learnt 
 dialogue, and it is beginning in my case to oust 
 the Gaelic. 
 
 The Embassy people have been most kind. 
 Now write to me what you are all doing. How I 
 ' long for Archie to get the Sun ! 
 
 In 1908 Lady Victoria was at Bunessan, when Lady 
 Mary with '* the trio " came to lona. One of the many 
 letters she wrote, in order to effect a meeting, is given 
 here. It is extraordinarily typical of her thought for 
 detail ; she left nothing to chance, as far as minute 
 directions could ensure success. These notes were 
 sped by many a hand on shore, and by many a purser 
 on board the steamers. In Tiree Mr. Macdonald, 
 the postmaster, earned the name she gave him,
 
 330 
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 " The Prince of Links." lie forwarded her missives 
 over the island by a series of messengers, called 
 by Lady Victoria " sandpipers." Often the words 
 occur, " sent out the fiery cross," and John Mac- 
 kinnon, mounted on one of the many well-known 
 horses which drew the buckboard, would be sent 
 hasting along the sands. 
 
 The minister at the Manse tied a string on his 
 gate, certain that a missive would be hanging to it, 
 when he saw the " fiery cross " speeding on its way. 
 Ever}'one knew her methods, and lent their powers 
 to aid her " Unks." There is a tale of her in bed at 
 the Lodge on a wild winter's morning. The *' Fingal," 
 unexpectedly, had come in on her hind legs, and would 
 leave the shelterless island as soon as might be. It 
 was imperative someone should be met on board, 
 or some message sent away by her. The occasion 
 brooked no delay, and as the necessities of the position 
 faced her, the means of meeting them instantly came 
 to her mind. " Is John downstairs ? Is he ready to 
 go ? lias he had his breakfast ? No ? Then take 
 him this." And the tray, daintily set with the fare 
 provided for her slender appetite, was hastily thrust 
 into the hands of the messenger, with the command 
 that John was to be instantly fed, and to make all 
 speed. 
 
 Necessity was hterally with her the mother of 
 invention, and when the telegraph cable was broken, 
 and mail and cargo-boats were fitfully absent, then 
 her genius, and the prowess of her Hnksmen, sand- 
 pipers, and mounted horseman, came to the fore.
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 331 
 
 From Tirce. Going to Bunessan. Arrangement 
 with Lady Mary, coming to see her from 
 lona. 
 
 1908. 
 I wrote retm'n in a feverish hour. When the 
 boy whistles, if we are not ready — all hope over 
 for two days. 
 
 I write this data for your guidance, so that you 
 don't waste time or strength. I think you forget 
 the uncertainties of weather and distance. You 
 cannot be in and out, so arrange when on the spot 
 to have a good day with me. Getting all food and 
 a dressing-room. 
 
 Wire for a machine. Better mention wagonette 
 as safest, four-wheeled. 
 
 Let me have a wire. Before IMonday, hopeless. 
 The earhest I can arrive is the 4th, and it takes 
 a day or two to get things arranged, so that I can 
 turn round in the cottage. 
 
 Then, if I could find a note to say — Such a day 
 is the first he might be over for fishing — I could say 
 to a friend : " May they have it any day after — 
 up to such a date." This would leave them free. 
 
 If I get a w^ire, my second room, food all day, 
 will be ready, and a joy to have a talk. It is a 
 six-mile road. 
 
 7 p.m. This did miss our first, but here goes. 
 I see, poor dear, you don't arrive till 7th. 
 
 All right ! Then don't cross till you hear I am 
 safe over, established ! 
 
 You see, if you come over, and I don't know,
 
 332 "REST AXD BE THANKFUL" 
 
 I might be out visiting, which would be tiying. 
 I can arrange a cosy time if you follow my direc- 
 tions. 
 
 Some attempt must be made to give a consistent 
 picture of Lady Victoria's settled presence in the 
 Lodge. When she regularly returned to it, she was 
 able to make it more of a home than when she had 
 passed from one temporary abode to another. Wher- 
 ever she stayed, she planned out her day and her 
 work. She needed, and was fortunately able to 
 take, short rests during the day, and the good gift 
 of almost instant and refreshing sleep was always 
 with her. llrr (l;iy began early ; she was called at 
 seven, and very often was awake and reading long 
 before that hour. 
 
 In the morning, when able to come downstairs, 
 she was to be found in the " sanctum " ; a room 
 where she did the routine business of her household, 
 and saw all the people connected with her work. 
 Some days " the plan of campaign " would take her 
 far west. Then Ian Deleas would bring round the 
 buckboard before noon. In it were the various horses 
 supplied by her friend, Mr. Barr, and their names 
 were suited to their quahties. Of one it is written : 
 ** Drvsdale took his name from a famous Free Ivirk 
 Evangelist who used to haunt Tiree. Of the two, 
 the t}^e accomphshed far more genuine evangelistic 
 work than the prototype ! " Lady Victoria loved 
 *' the dear beasties,"and thought of their rest days and 
 feeds, as she did of those of all her brethren. Settled
 
 "KEST AND BE THANKFUL" 333 
 
 into the buckboard with all her haps and arrange- 
 ments, the expeditionary force would be set in 
 motion. Visits to the sick, to the officials, and to the 
 people who must be " looked up " and organised. 
 Baiting took place in some friendly crofter's house. 
 There the colTee was made hot, the sandwich was 
 eaten, the hot bottle refilled, and the few minutes 
 taken of a deep slumber, and then John and the 
 carriage were once more in readiness. One day in 
 the week the class was held at " Sahara," a distant 
 district, white with the heaped and driven sands. 
 There the " mothers " were met, the affairs of the 
 clothing club discussed, and a talk held with every- 
 one present. No one was a stranger to her, after the 
 first hour of acquaintance : no one was forgotten 
 even after years of absence. Most of her friends had 
 a name given them. Where there are so many of 
 one or two clans distinctive titles are a help, and 
 Lady Victoria had a happy knack of suiting the title 
 to the individual. 
 
 If their pecuUarities were successfully described, 
 with that instinct for character which she possessed, 
 there was no stmg in the humour that nailed the 
 quahty to a name. " The Rev. Laddie " remembers 
 that on hearing his title, " I had the audacity to 
 read the following Sunday, ' Let no man despise 
 thy youth,' for which I w^as duly and deservedly 
 whipped." 
 
 It was late afternoon before the buckboard was 
 seen coming home over the sands of Gott. " Many 
 a time," says one of those in Island House, " I
 
 334 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 used to watch her going home from a class here, 
 the buckboard jolting away into the dark, the gleam 
 of the red lamps marking its course." When her 
 work had lain east, the drive home was over the 
 wet, glistening sands, reflecting the sunset glow ; 
 she rejoicing ever in the glory above and below, for 
 to her it seemed " the very gates of heaven." 
 
 As soon as the carriage was visible over the sands, 
 Knowles would be prepared to receive Lady Victoria. 
 If it had been " a wild dav," there was first the 
 stripping of the streaming outer wraps. They were 
 ultimately hoisted by a pulley to the kitchen ceihng, 
 and there allowed to drip. Often the traveller came 
 in so cold that the bedroom couch would be drawn 
 almost into the fixe, and water of the hottest was 
 brought to dip the stiffened hands in. The admoni- 
 tions of those who had told her the weather was unfit 
 for the keeping of the tryst were met with the laughmg 
 account of the day's difficulties, till at last even the 
 vexed soul of the indignant Knowles would be healed 
 by having to join in the convulsions of laughter. 
 Or, if fatigue and neuralgia had for the moment 
 prostrated her, there was a revival after tea, and a 
 long evening of rest, and a " gossip " with the girl 
 friend, or some other guest. After dinner, Lady 
 Victoria put aside the thoughts and work of the day. 
 There was to be a rest and change from " the rough 
 island story." Newspapers were read, the letters 
 written for the outgoing mail, or some book read aloud 
 which had to do with the larger world of interest. 
 On Satm-days she was at home to all who cared to
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 335 
 
 come and sec her. It was the day, as far as possible, 
 that she kept for the Island House children, and 
 Mr. and Mrs. McDiarniid's family had a very warm 
 place in her heart. 
 
 No one came without receiving the outpouring 
 of an hospitality which never recognised that a 
 larder or store-room could be empty. If Knowles 
 pointed out the stores had not come in, and this 
 or that was not to be had, she was sent out for a 
 drive to brush off the " Martha cobwebs," or sent 
 back to her domain with the assurance she could 
 make it right, for she always knew how to manage. 
 The word " difficulty " she only recognised when it 
 came into conjunction with the word " overcome." 
 Sometimes every room had a visitor waiting to have 
 a conference, but time is of no moment in the mystic 
 isles, and the waiting was done under the sense 
 that the welcome was always there when the hostess 
 was disengaged. 
 
 Close to the Lodge is the croft, christened by Lady 
 'Victoria, ''The Lodge Farm." Mrs. Mackmnon 
 and her family were among the first of her fellow- 
 workers. When she hved in the west end, and drove 
 east to have her classes, it was in this house that 
 Lady Victoria first held them. There the girls met 
 till at length they were crowded out and had to 
 adjourn to the school-house. They were happy hours 
 she spent among them. The success of her work 
 already evident, and the friendships which she made 
 with *' the Rev. Hector," the minister of Kirkapol, 
 and with his brothers and sisters. " Ian Lady " —
 
 336 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 Ian Deleas — " FaithfuKJohn," was her right-hand 
 man in the Lodge, and he knew, as none other, how 
 to help her into the buckboard, and save her from 
 all the fatigue that strong and thoughtful aid could 
 give. 
 
 So sped the winter months, till the day came round 
 for lookmg across the waters towards " the Holy 
 City," and preparing there to keep the great tryst. 
 She was often laid aside in the islands, but she never 
 had hi the western seas any of those alarnung ill- 
 nesses which elsewhere brought her to the gates of 
 death. 
 
 One of these she was to undergo in the winter 
 of 1906. She had left Tiree to pass Christmas at 
 Inveraray, but she only reached it to be taken with 
 a long and wearying illness. 
 
 Dec. 22nd, 1906. 
 
 Reached the old Home. Feeling very done. 
 Great strain. Running down the Rest. 
 
 The death of Principal Story m 1907 affected her 
 much, and in January there occurs the rare entry : 
 " Must give in." She reached Edinburgh, but the 
 illness there became a very serious one, and it was not 
 till March that she was able to get out. " Perfect 
 reception of good-byes," she notes. She rested 
 nearly a month at Peterborough, and in May, when 
 she came to London, " the Dr. indicated must be 
 a time of rest," was the not unnatural result of a 
 consultation.
 
 
 
 7.
 
 "RtilST AND BE THANKFUT. " 337 
 
 lu November, 1908, at Edinburgh, she had an 
 attack of influenza pneumonia, and the family were 
 rapidly summoned. For days her Kfe hung in the 
 balance, but she was once more, aided by her high 
 courage and brave endurance, to be given back to 
 the large world that loved her. As she recovered, 
 her room was one of the best places to be in. Certain 
 was every incomer to hear the ring of welcome in 
 the 'Coice which, however weak, was always bright. 
 There were to be found her old friends, bringing her 
 all the news, and finding ever a keenly interested 
 hearer. 
 
 Miss Macrae, " Phoebe," was her secretary, and 
 the fellow-worker in all her plans. Iler transgression 
 in having summoned the family had been forgiven, 
 with many a reproof for giving unnecessary alarms, 
 but in reality she knew how ill she had been. To 
 one of the sisterhood, who lived near Edinburgh and 
 was able to see her almost daily, they were weeks 
 to be held in remembrance. When work was im- 
 possible no one rested more completely, and she took 
 the gift of loving friendships brought into her room 
 with complete happiness. " \\Tio do you think I 
 have had ? " Or, as Christmas drew near, " Are you 
 prepared to help me with Christmas presents ? 
 Come back in time forbohea, wewill have a cosy crack.'* 
 
 And the cracks which had waited over many a 
 busy year were held, and her gathered wisdom and 
 deepening charity towards humanity gilded the 
 communing of these latter days. 
 
 The move to Ehu Lodge on the Gareloch was
 
 338 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 made by motor in January, and it was an experiment 
 which was surrounded by anxieties. That the 
 w^eather was tempestuous was nothhig in the thought 
 of a journey for Lady Victoria ; but it was also bitterly 
 cold, a thing she always felt acutely, and for some 
 days snow storms blocked the roads. The start was 
 at last made, in two motor-cars, one following with 
 Miss Macrae inside, in case an}'thing happened to 
 the one in which was Lady Victoria, her nurse, and 
 one of the sisters by the driver. In a short time 
 it was the rehef car which came to a halt. Those with 
 Lady Victoria hoped that this would not be noticed, 
 and as the object was to get her as soon as possible 
 to her destination, the driver was told to continue his 
 way. Very soon a knocking at the window with 
 backward signals indicated her usual opinion : " We 
 ought to go to the rescue." For once she had no 
 control over the driver, and signals were made in 
 return that there was to be no delay. Fortunately 
 for the peace of mind of all concerned, the rehef 
 motor, having dealt with a puncture, overtook the 
 leading car, and the safety of ^liss Macrae was 
 obvious to the anxious invahd. 
 
 It was a strange home-coming, through the deep 
 gloaming of the winter's afternoon. There had been 
 so Uttle hope of her recovery that her return to the 
 shores of the old home was very hke a dream. As 
 the motor sped by the shore of the Gareloch her 
 eyes were fixed on the circle of the hills, and across 
 the racing tideway of the ferry the hghts of Rosneath 
 Castle were a welcome to her.
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL'' 339 
 
 On the sunny shore of Row she waited for the 
 return of her strength. The coming of sprmg-time 
 was always a help to her, and her brother, the Duke, 
 was often at Rosneath, caring for all that could help 
 her convalescence and induce her really to give her- 
 self rest. 
 
 The letters which are given are those which tell of 
 the parting with her friend " Professor Pax," a review 
 of her illness written to Lady Mary, and a word of 
 request to her minister in Tiree. 
 
 On Dr. Charteris' death to Mrs. Maxwell. 
 
 May 9th, 1908. 
 
 My dear President, 
 
 I don't know what you must think of me, 
 but you will have been able to make allowances 
 for a London rush at the last, and in the midst of 
 a bereavement which I confess to feel more than 
 anything since my Father's death. I think I 
 wrote this to Dr. Lees, which, I suppose, is the 
 reason he spoke strongly yesterday on its being 
 quite wrong not to feel how mercifully dealt with 
 he had been. One occasion more for thanksgiving. 
 *' He had been allowed to see his work accompHshed, 
 which few are," then taken at one stroke with 
 httle or no suffering. It is all true, but he and 
 IVIrs. Gordon came on my horizon about the same 
 time, and in their several ways had the strongest 
 determining influence which has come into my 
 life, and one's heart cries out, as one pillar after 
 another is removed. Will you find out about the
 
 340 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 two " treasures " for me at once. I should prefer 
 a Scotch maid if such can be found, to face Islands, 
 Continent, and all. 
 
 6 Palmerston Place, Edinburgh. Dec. 22nd, 
 1908. 
 
 My dearest Mary, 
 
 There has been a horrible fatahty about days 
 when I tried to write to you and I have been 
 obliged to postpone it. It all seems Hke a dream. 
 I felt so " fit " when I returned from Islands this 
 year ; and when Ian first offered Rhu Lodge I felt 
 what a rest it would be, but that I ought to be 
 in more of a working place ! Then the crash. 
 I have so wondered " why." It has certainly shown 
 one the unbounded love and kindness of people. 
 Now, the last week, I do feel as if Hfe were re- 
 turning, not only restored existence ! I have 
 followed everything. So glad you are pleased 
 about Stepney. 
 
 I wrote to the dear Archbishop, perhaps quite 
 illegibly. He must have had crowds. 
 
 Dr. James has been wonderful about getting 
 the heart steadied. He is so interesting. No 
 wonder father used to ask for " the Edinburgh 
 doctor." 
 
 To the Rev. D. IMacpherson. 
 Rhu Lodge. Jan. 23rd, 1909. 
 
 Oh, my dear minister, you will bring my grey 
 hairs down with sorrow to the grave ! . . .
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 341 
 
 She had replied advising another season of the 
 year. I took that side of matters, explaining how 
 she might be tossed to and fro, with no good meet- 
 ing for weeks. Urged her corresponding again in 
 smnmer when, D.V., I may be permitted to go 
 again to you, when we might arrange (before 
 harvest) for a special gathering. Do, meantime, 
 urge our necessarily small classes as to weekly 
 gatlierings to go on the lines I tried to teach, 
 i.e. if you approve. 
 
 1st. Encourage all gu-ls to join Y.W.C.A., be- 
 cause of its world-wide protection to wanderers. 
 
 2nd. To enlist all women, including girls, be- 
 longing to our Church into Guild fellowship, under 
 at least the pledge : " To desire to be taught with 
 a view to becoming workers in God's vineyard." 
 
 I found the first pledge on card frightened some. 
 Justifiably so, if it meant full-blown Christians ! 
 
 Do write me a regular " ceihdh " about every- 
 thing. I came here on Tuesday in a motor-carriage 
 with a nm'se, my sister, Lady Frances Balfour, 
 and followmg us ]\liss Macrae, who has been a 
 devoted friend, a sister of the Crown Coiu-t minister. 
 
 It is going to be recruiting here. At present 
 I don't feel much good, as the journey tried me 
 dreadfully, seventy -four miles. I prefer the 
 " Fingal," but tell it not in Gath ! 
 
 Tell the dear people my heart often goes out to 
 them. 
 
 I am only joking when I pretend to be in despair 
 with you.
 
 342 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 The Islands were to have her for another winter. 
 Less was attempted, there was more waiting for all 
 and sundry to come to her, fewer attempts to face 
 in all weathers the tracks which led to her people 
 and her work. " She was quieter," all say, as they 
 look back on that last time when her days were to 
 be spent in the west. " She seemed less vexed if 
 things went wrong, so gentle and patient." The 
 strength so severely tried by the winter of 1907 
 had never returned, and the change was only con- 
 cealed by the spirit which always kindled with 
 renewed ardour as she met her friends and those who 
 needed her sympathy. 
 
 Cliristmas Day, 1909, was to be the last that 
 Lady Victoria kept in the Lodge. 
 
 She had determined to keep it with even greater 
 observance than before. She sent out cards that she 
 was " At Home," and the whole day was planned 
 to include the pleasure of as many of her friends as 
 she could get into the Lodge. A service began the 
 day, " the Ship of Good Hope " was lighted up, 
 and her gifts of loving remembrance distributed. 
 Aimie Campbell, her friend and housekeeper, had 
 inherited the mantle of Mrs. Kuowles ; she under- 
 stood as well as her forerunner how to save 
 Ladv Victoria from all " Martha " cares, and she 
 arranged the hospitahty in a way which never gave 
 even that hostess any anxiety. " Annie imderstands 
 how to do it all," she wrote, when her kith and kin 
 bade her not to be given to too much hospitahty, 
 and to remember the limits of her strength. Katie
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 343 
 
 Mackiiinon was kept by illness in Glasgow, and Lady- 
 Victoria did not forget the absent member of the 
 Lodge Farm. 
 
 The Lodge, Tiree. Xiyias Eve, 1909. 
 
 And so, dear Katie, Dr. Benjamin was right, 
 was she ? How good of Rev. Hector ! If it had 
 been me, I should have preferred a private hospital 
 wai'd. Just because everything is at hand. Write 
 me all particulars ! I miss you here. John is 
 a Commander-in-Chief as usual. Ship to be ht up 
 to-morrow. Pipes, a gramophone. But at ILlo 
 we begm with Rev. Macpherson and wife coming 
 to a Christmas Service. Then everyone at 3.30 
 p.m. A gentleman shows the gramophone. Glori- 
 ous weather. 
 
 Yours most truly, 
 Victoria Campbell. 
 
 The letters from the Lodge to Island House tell 
 best the tale of the fleeting days. 
 
 To Mrs. MacDiarmid. 
 Nov. Sth, 1909. 
 
 I shall be back (D.V.) soon, when, I don't 
 know. I shall wire ; it won't be this week. 
 
 Jan. I3th, 1910. 
 
 I was really unhappy about you on Sat., and 
 thought how amusingly we had changed places, 
 for it was the kind of weather in which I would go 
 to you in 1896. I leaving you in bed or sofa.
 
 344 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 (On nurses.) 
 
 I feel so certain if with all — beginning with 
 ourselves — we adhere to the " Reign of Law " 
 fii-nily but gently it will keep us straight. 
 
 Jan. 21.s7, 1910. 
 
 It vvill be a rehef to me if you will be in readi- 
 ness to take the mothers on Monday, they gather 
 up quite by 2.30. I fear the Huckboard hood is 
 the signal, so if you can, be in sight by 2 p.m. 
 We begin by singing CJaelie. They have the GaeUc 
 hymns too. Then I give a prayer (ofTer Ajin to 
 read the chapter, or part chapter, if not, take it 
 yourself). If you have a little reading like Gaelic 
 ** Life and Work," or English, they like it. I give 
 this in English. The devotional had better not 
 exceed half an hour. 
 
 I was on Sahara on the Friday. Said it might 
 be announced at Balemartine on the Sunday. 
 This was at the Elder's house. I shall be so glad 
 when Mr. Smith comes. I am jealous he finds at 
 least we women have not sat at ease ! 
 
 I have said since 1891 the people have far too 
 httle recreation, of a wholesome, open character. 
 
 March 4th, 1910. 
 
 I feel so exhausted with the collapse of every 
 link. Poultry and Post ! It only remains for us 
 to be told the cable is broken, to be reduced to 
 pulp, and to turn and try to forge fresh links 
 thus. Tell your husband, I hope he will be really
 
 "Ri:ST AND BE THANKFUL'' 345 
 
 ingenious about linking up the poultry com- 
 missioner, whose motto, I hope, is that which 
 Mr. McRury used to address to his wife, as he took 
 me on those first rounds : '* We shall retui-n, Flora, 
 when our work is done." 
 
 I feel more and more it is useless for people to 
 come here to xvorh without that motto. 
 
 Het last written words in the island ended with 
 " work," and none of those who saw her reahsed that 
 the working days were so nearly sped. Afterwards, 
 when they knew, " then they remembered." 
 
 It may be that as she left the lone island some of 
 the sadness of farewell hung over her partings. She 
 bade the " mothers " remam m the room as she left 
 , theii" meeting, and told them they were to sing as 
 she went out from among them, " \sq shall meet in 
 the sweet Bye and Bye," and as they obeyed she 
 passed from their midst. 
 
 Her friend, Captam I\Iurdoch, of the Govern- 
 * ment yacht H.M.S. " Minna," had arranged to take 
 her to Oban. He had forwarded her journeys many 
 a time before. " I am sitting hke a cormorant on 
 a rock, waiting to see the ' ]\limia ' come into the 
 Sound," she wrote of this " ship in need " ; and 
 whenever the " Minna " and its Captain could take 
 her ofi any rock, it was the swift messenger of her 
 destiny. In March the " Minna " stood into Gott 
 Bay. It was wild weather, and she w\as carried in 
 her chair by the two she rehed upon, John Mackinnon 
 and " Johnnie Mohr," to the boat which was waiting
 
 346 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 amid the washing surf. Her serenity was not as 
 unshaken as usual, there were tears in her eyes, 
 as she looked her last on the white sands, on the low 
 hills and curWng inlets of her beloved Ethica. Away 
 from the pier, the Stones of Remembrance to be 
 for ever associated with her as the landmark of her 
 strenuous hfe. That breakwater will stand as the 
 type of her own outlook for the kingdom of this 
 world, where to labour is to pray ; and it is the symbol 
 of her faith that only within the harbour and shelter 
 of the Eternal strength are to be found the quiet 
 waters which revive the thirsting soul that is anchored 
 on the Rock of Ages. 
 
 The gale did not abate, and Captain Murdoch, 
 having received her on board, had to consider how 
 to get her safely disembarked on the pier at Oban. 
 It is not often that that harbour of refuge does not 
 give shelter from the storm. On this occasion the 
 gale blew right on to the landing-stage, and when 
 Lady Victoria was placed in her chair in the boat, 
 the Captain fervently wished he had her back on the 
 " Minna." She asked one question, for her ex- 
 perienced eye saw and understood the force of the 
 gale, and the welter of sea and sky. " Is there any 
 danger. Captain V " None," was the answer. 
 With that word she was content, and the landing was 
 effected, but the boat did not that night attempt 
 to return to the vessel. " A great gale," are the 
 three words in which she describes her move to 
 Edinbm'gh.
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL^' 347 
 
 To Mrs. MacDiarniid. 
 
 Edinburgh. March 22nd, 1910. 
 
 I am between dentist and what St. Giles ser- 
 vices I can get in. It seems a blessed rest. Crocuses 
 — land birds — since Tuesday, spring air. 
 
 I never had such a landing at Oban ; but 
 Captain Murdoch does not wish too much said. 
 
 Edinburgh. March 23rd, 1910. 
 My dearest Mary, 
 
 Such a rush of convalescent memories come 
 over me of three years back in your beautiful home. 
 I felt for the moment a strange longing, but common 
 sense tells me to get on. Settled in rooms en pen- 
 sion, in Egerton Terrace, found for me by dear Miss 
 Lumsden. We shall meet in London. I am still 
 *' careful," but wonderful. I am undergoing 
 dentist, relieved by St. Giles services. I get friends 
 to come to me '" up the hill." South rooms, cro- 
 cuses, and land birds. I shall get the Communion 
 Easter Sunday, St. Giles. We shall be together in 
 thought. Much love to Teddy. You know I 
 am proud of the Lords ! Dr. James in this evening. 
 He looked proud of me, as well he might, A gale 
 arose, and we landed at midnight in Oban. I 
 never saw the Bay in such a state. 
 
 From Edinburgh one word occurs almost daily. 
 
 Rested. Had dear Lees. An intense Running 
 down the Rest. Heard Dr. Wilhamson. Turned 
 into St. Giles. Saw j\Irs. Charteris, Dr. MacGregor.
 
 348 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 Then, on April 1st, she came to London, ac- 
 companied by Miss MePhee. 8he notes that she 
 was " feeling the contrast of last year's state." 
 Next comes the word she has been to St. Columba. 
 "Heard J^onddu Bishop (Dr. Flciuing) on Life in 
 Christ. Very helpful." She rested a great deal, and 
 her expeditions out were usually to church, or, as a 
 treat, to the daily service in Westminster Abbey. She 
 remained in I^ndon for Easter Sunday, and took the 
 early Communion in St. Michael's Church, which was 
 nciir her house, going to St. Columba and to Crown 
 Court Church, morning and evening. On one of these 
 Sunday evenings one of her sisters accompanied her, 
 as she went to church in a Bath chair. She observed 
 an unwonted weakness in Lady Victoria's move- 
 ments, and there came the unusual direction " to 
 hold the chair steadv." For an instant there was 
 revealed the loss of nerve, and the marked failure in 
 strength. The impression passed away, and was too 
 soon forgotten. Forebodings could never Hve long 
 in the face of the vitality which seemed to spring from 
 an unquenchable well of Ufe. 
 
 Her family were much with her, and the one for 
 whose coming she was always on the watch was her 
 brother the Duke. From him she learnt the first 
 anxious tidings of the ilhiess of King Edward, and 
 she was glad to be near him through those memorable 
 days. 
 
 By the kindness of the Duchess of Welhngton she 
 saw the funeral procession from Apslcy House. The 
 start was made at 6.40 a.m., and she got back at noon.
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 349 
 
 In getting to the seat arranged for her she had some 
 
 cUmbing to accomplish ; " but after my experiences 
 
 on the ' Fingal,' " she said, it all came easily to her. 
 
 In June, Lady Victoria writes to Lady Mary : — 
 
 I wish we could have seen more of each other. 
 I feel 1 have indulged myself long enough here. 
 The gathering in Edinburgh will be unique, and in 
 deaf Fanny Mackenzie's lent house I may get a talk 
 w4th one and another. Li any case, I must be 
 moving soon to get ready for Conny in Tiree, 
 week of July 10th. After she leaves me, I am hkely 
 to get through other islands while weather good. 
 
 She had reluctantly decided to miss the General 
 Assembly, and reserve her strength for the great 
 Mission Conference about to meet in Edinburgh. 
 The thought of the gathering fdled her with happiness. 
 Through the kindness of Miss Mackenzie's cousin, 
 Mi's. Savile, the house filled, to her, with happy memo- 
 *ries was put at her disposal. In anticipation she 
 filled the rooms with guests, and the dining-table she 
 knew was large enough to receive even the world of 
 missionaries she was so eager to entertain. The 
 eldest of ]Mrs. MacDiarmid's daughters was to be 
 married in July, and her friend, Atta Macleod, was 
 to make happy the Manse of a minister who had been 
 " the Rev. Hylipol " in Tiree. The happiness of 
 both these friends brightened her thoughts, and into 
 " the wonderful Conference " she went body, soul, 
 and spirit.
 
 350 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 The Inst letters written during these months are 
 given. Tiree had not been out of her mind in London, 
 and one of its ministers was called to order for his 
 remissness in not filling her hungry thoughts with the 
 news for which she craved. 
 
 Last letter to the Rev. 1). Macpherson, Kirkapol. 
 
 April 20///, 191U. 
 
 Dear Mr. Macpherson. 
 
 Forgive me if 1 plead for a little fuller 
 information ! 1 have been longing to hear from 
 you. 
 
 L The Pier. 2. Dear Jeanie Deans. 3. The 
 scarlet fever. 4. Has the Hospital been used ? 
 
 You knew I was coming to Ix^ndon, did you 
 not ? My address is always with the Prince of 
 Links. Do you go to the Assembly ? I am thinking 
 of not going to it. But to the Mission Conference. 
 I insh you could hover about, and go to that. 
 
 Is the Fremitus Dr. still in Tiree ? 
 
 In short, Tiree might be under the sea for nil I 
 know ! 
 
 To Lady Mary Glyn. 
 
 May 25th, 1910. 
 
 How this anniversary hves back to one with the 
 memory of that dear Archbishop Maclagan's 
 voice, which is 7wt still mercifully, and I suppose 
 sounds as ever. 
 
 I think you are right, after the first staggering 
 blow, and feeling " What can it all mean," as the
 
 "REfeT AND BE THANKFUL" 351 
 
 King was a peacemaker. I think one gets the gUnt, 
 the hope that all parties will be softened. At least, 
 honestly, 1 don't think this word apphes to the 
 Unionist side. I mean, they were, whether for good 
 or ill, the attacked. What I felt was, not the fact 
 that the Ministers might appeal to the Crown, but 
 the way at every side meeting it was brought in 
 as though it were a twopenny-halfpenny question 
 as to whether they did or not. 
 
 But what is the use of talking ! One recognises 
 at every turn so many of them are not gentlemen, 
 and it is when one's lot is to meet in tvork all and 
 sundry, one recognises this element, or the absence 
 of it, means so much. It is indefinable ! 
 
 I shall only just be in time to catch the world- 
 wide, wonderful Conference in Edinburgh of 
 '' missionaries. Do come to Tiree ! I hope some 
 day to visit dear Peterborough again, but the stairs 
 are steep, and 1 hate increasingly giving trouble. 
 
 , To Mrs. Paisley. 
 . 10 Moray Place, Edinburgh. (Inveraray to- 
 morrow), June 30///, 1910. 
 My dear Mother Sabina, 
 
 You must have thought me a brute ! When 
 I got your letter I was in the midst of entertaining 
 several delegates and others in a lent house of the 
 late Miss Mackenzie, who was to me like an Aunt 
 Dot, if that were possible. Then this day week 
 I had to subside with a chill, and I have been de- 
 layed in going to Argyll, at Dalchenna.
 
 352 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 Do you know, if this invitation had not come, 
 1 had thought of making a raid into your dining- 
 room again. It cannot be now. I must be otY to 
 Tiree. 
 
 I was not up to many meetings, but saw a lot 
 of interesting people, especially the Bishops, 
 (Tell Jo) and I^rd William Cecil ; it was like a 
 foretaste of Union in Heaven ! 
 
 I hope you read Mr. Norman Maclean's articles 
 in the " Scotsman." With much love, and wishing 
 I could go with you, 
 
 Yours ever affectionately, 
 
 V. C. 
 
 16 MoR.vY Pl.\ce. June 28///, 1910. 
 My dear F., 
 
 Your letter ought to have crossed one from 
 me, as 1 intended to try and give a private im- 
 pression of this really wonderful time. But Mr. 
 Norman Maclean diil yeoman service, and I spent 
 much time between the open table — luncheons and 
 teas, and in reading up myself, which was one 
 compens;ition for not getting to many meetings. 
 Except for S\Tiod Hall, which has a long, trj-ing 
 stair, I got to a specimen of each. The popular ones 
 in our Assembly Hall, where I heard Bryan give 
 a sermon of an hour and half (or twenty minutes 
 after the hour). It was quite a quarter too long, 
 which I never felt with Liddon, and there were 
 touches of that American humour, which went down 
 on a week-night.
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 353 
 
 It really was a diagnosis of and beautifying the 
 fundamentals. " The Tree bare twelve manner of 
 fruits." He elaborated the twelve, beginning with 
 Repentance. Beautiful touches in each delineation. 
 Next night scores of people turned away, it is said, 
 although empty seats in U.F. Hall not admitted. 
 It is explamed since that some delegates came 
 late — bound to keep the seats for them. 
 
 This was borne out by Lord Wilham Cecil, who 
 looked in on me late one afternoon, and declared 
 when late from Niddrie where he was staying he had 
 (lilliculty in getting in. 
 
 What a striking appearance he has, and so 
 interesting ; he pours it out so easily, with such a 
 sense of humour, as when he said, apropos of the 
 Sunday (when, to Dr. Mitty's horror, I went after 
 the Bishop of Durham, to a " Pisky ") : " Yes, 
 everyone is rejoicing in the other's rehgion." 
 
 The other " popular " Tolbooth I got to was Lord 
 Kinnaird, in the chair, where he was very heartily 
 cheered. The U.F. Evening (what we called the 
 Parliament) I got to was dull, closely read papers. 
 Then there was one morning on Education, when 
 Mrs. Creighton and two other women spoke. 
 Dr. ]\Iitty's face of wonder was killing ! He was 
 much impressed. 
 
 Lord AVilUam asked where you were, and said : 
 " Tell her we have had a great outburst of oratory." 
 I had to luncheon and teas here during the days — 
 Eugene Stock, Principal Moore, whom you know. 
 Bishops Moule and Montgomery, an interesting 
 
 2 A
 
 354 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 man from Japan, who knew dear old " Fanny " 
 lure. A very interesting American woman, working 
 in China, loft a widow with one little girl of eleven. 
 A nurse from our Blantyre. The Scott girls, two 
 or three, oiT and on, sleeping in the house. Before 
 the rush. Dr. Norman and Dr. Mitty came to see 
 me. The beloved old Dean, Professor Paterson. 
 Of course, the 7j}isses are the great debates. Ijord 
 Balfour of Burleigh on I'nion. I had a single 
 ticket, but besides not caring to face it alone, I 
 could not keep it from the Scott girls. 
 
 Yes, there was a sense of *' seeing the day 
 approaching." One felt hearts were being knit 
 together. 
 
 I have been delayed going to Inveraray, with a 
 touch of cold fatigue. It was a very sudden 
 change from heat, with the thunder. But it is 
 passing ofT. 
 
 Margaret MacPhee has gone home. The last 
 Scott girl departed Saturday. So, with dear old 
 Phoebe in and out, I got to the Communion in 
 St. Giles on Sunday. 
 
 Dr. Wallace Williamson very fine the Sunday 
 before the Conference. It seems to be his subject. 
 Hoping to get to Dalchenna Thursday or Friday. 
 
 I wish would write to C. I feel so sure people 
 
 are helped with expressions of s}Tnpathy. 
 
 Your very affectionate, 
 
 V. 
 
 This is a delicious home with its evening 
 light.
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 355 
 
 From the Very Rev. Sir James Lees. 
 
 T linppenod to be in Edinburgh the Thursday be- 
 fore her death. She wrote me to the New Club that 
 she was still in town with a cold, and to come and 
 see her. I went to Moray Place after jny meeting, 
 and found her in bed. She was very cheery, but 
 I noticed she was a good deal flushed. When I 
 came away, I kept her by the hand, and knelt down 
 and' prayed witli her, and said the Blessing. She 
 thanked me very much, but I little thought it was 
 a farewell. God rest her soul ! She was one of the 
 best, and the old mystery crops up again, that He 
 takes one so useful and leaves so many to drag 
 out their hves in uselessness. 
 
 The last of these letters from herself reached London 
 on June 29th. It was opened, glanced through, and 
 put aside for reading on a return from a day's expe- 
 dition into the country. Late that afternoon, Miss 
 Macrae telegraphed to the family that Lady Victoria 
 ' was seriously ill. It was the third summons which, 
 always against her knowledge and will, had been sent 
 out by this friend who had watched her through so 
 many illnesses. With deep misgivings the summons 
 was answered, and two of the " sisterhood " were soon 
 by her, and through the days that followed. 
 
 The fatigue cold rapidly developed into the dreaded 
 pneumonia, and the heart failed under the strain. 
 To the last day, consciousness and courage kept the 
 flickering torch bravely burning. She rested, deeply 
 content in the presence of her " pair sister " Lady
 
 350 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 Evelyn, shook her head at " Phoebe," who had 
 frightened them all again. She asked for her daily 
 reading, and always was ready with talk. Hoping 
 against conviction, and trying to believe that her 
 wondrous vitality would rally, the days were spent 
 ])y those around her. She had always had the deep 
 shrinking from death that comes with the con- 
 sciousness of life. From the sight of the last enemy 
 she was kept. H she knew she was passing through 
 the Borderlands, it did not trouble the serenity of 
 spirit, which was plain through all the stress of 
 the laboured breathing. As the afternoon do.sed in, 
 she gave her friend, Dr. James, the wonted bright 
 smile, and a whispered joke that he must not again 
 try to make her take " stinudants." 
 
 The hngering sunset of a July night lay over the 
 peaceful waters of the Forth, and beyond them were 
 the hills dark against the afterglow. The minister 
 of St. Giles came to speed the pa.ssing soul with the 
 blessing of peace, and as the night fell sleep was 
 given to the Beloved. 
 
 " Happy is he who hearcth 
 The signal of his release, 
 In the bells of tlie Holy City, 
 The chimes of eternal peace." 
 
 B. May 22, 1854. D. July Q, 191U. 
 
 Lady Victoria's grave is beside that of Lady 
 Emma McNeill. Together they lie on the brow of 
 the hill, under the shadow of the parish church of
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 357 
 
 Libcrton. The western simlight falls on the grassy 
 slopes, and beneath that hill the Holy City hes 
 outspread. 
 
 The llev. Norman McLeod, and the Rev. Dr. 
 Wallace Williamson, minister of St. Giles, took the 
 service in the cathedral and by the grave. It was 
 a sunmier day of stillness and light ; around her 
 were brought the flowers that she loved, amongst 
 those from the «^'ardens of the Land of Long Ago lay 
 heather from the hills, and the sweet gale from the 
 moors of Mull. 15y her to the last stood those who 
 had gathered from the isles and from Argyll ; her 
 kith and kin were there, and the fellow-workers fi'om 
 city and country. All of them the companions and 
 helpers of the way which had ended in the rest that 
 knows no weariness. 
 
 In the Church of St. Columba, in London, there 
 gathered a yet greater number of those who re- 
 membered and in spirit were following the prayers 
 which committed " this our sister " to the ground 
 in the sure and certain hope of the risen hfe. 
 
 One of her friends wrote of that day, and of the 
 stricken hearts that kept watch tlirough that hour : — 
 
 A bereaved people ; how few leave the world 
 with that so truly felt ! " Then they remembered, 
 then they understood"! How often, perhaps always, 
 it is so. In the heart of all grief is the knowledge 
 that death alone could rend the veil that hides 
 the Holy of HoUes, of a Life hid with Christ in 
 God. This shall be told for a memorial of her.
 
 358 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 Do you remember how in later years her father 
 used to say this was the greatest memorial ever 
 made, and how our Lord in those words sanctioned 
 such INhMiiorial and Remembrance, that it should be 
 told from one to another ? 
 
 I think it is to be granted that some such memo- 
 rial is to be hers, and for generations it will be told 
 as long as remembrance Ls made by these Island 
 people. The greatest of all memorials, because the 
 most like that which has our Lord's own words 
 to sanction it. 
 
 It is a tryst of tears now. The harvesting is 
 very wonderful, and the song of Harvest Home is 
 her part of it, and in it, if only we could hear it 
 as she hears it now. 
 
 On the Sunday after Liidy Victoria's death, these 
 words were sjx)kcn from the pulpit of St. Columba's 
 chm-i h by the Rev. Dr. Fleming: — 
 
 " Those who s;iw that bright, brave figure among 
 us, so keen and so assiduou.s, for a few weeks 
 every year, nmst have sometimes wondered — as one 
 wonders when the swallows disappear — whither she 
 had gone when she left us. It was to the lone iskinds 
 of the western seas — to lona — to Mull, to Tiree. 
 When the days were short, when the seas were rough 
 and the crossings dangerous, and all but the native 
 born had lied from the islands to the less rigorous 
 south, it was then that the homing instinct came to 
 her ; the hunger for the hills and the mists and the
 
 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 359 
 
 sad fretful waves ; and above all, the hunger for her 
 own people. And who were her owti people ? I 
 remember her tolling me how long years ago she was 
 lookinuj out of the ruined windows of lona Cathedral. 
 And she said that it was then and there that the call 
 came to her to dedicate her life to the islands. 
 And that is what she did. That fragile frame was 
 made servant to an indomitable will and purpose ; 
 and \Vhere strong men would have shrunk, she went ; 
 in the open boat, on the stormy seas, in the drifting 
 sleet she crossed her ferries and sought her ports, 
 alwavs with her brave face to the blast, and a cheer- 
 ful smile, and a heart that quailed before nothing — 
 the heart of a chieftainess though withal the heart 
 of a woman.'* 
 
 In the folk-lore of the land of the setting sun and 
 misty seas there is an old behef that those who wait 
 by the sound of many waters can see a magic green 
 island, which floats over the translucent waves. 
 It rises here, and vanishes there. Always verdant 
 and sunht ; no storms stir the placid seas, no treacher- 
 ous rocks break its glistening shores. The mariner 
 sees it, and has no fear. No chart can mark its 
 presence, for it moves silently across and away from 
 the course of the galleys that pass by the ferryways. 
 
 It is the mystic Isle to those who have the vision, 
 and those who see it have no shadow of fear in their 
 hearts. 
 
 Among the people of her love there are still those 
 who " see things." They meet the long processions
 
 300 "REST AND BE THANKFUL" 
 
 that come bearing their dead with them. To them 
 there are shadows among the quiet graves, their 
 hearts fail them amid the forces of Nature and the 
 world unseen. I^t these watchers lift their eyes to 
 the hills, till in the peace that flows from their 
 strength their own hearts cease from troubling. 
 Then to their purged gaze may be given the vision 
 of the green island that has no earthly foundation, 
 there revealed to them, they may sec the Lady of 
 their hearts passing by the sea of glass mingled with 
 the fires of everlasting and yet higher service. 
 
 It may be she will come to them, moving on feet 
 that are no longer weary, the swift messenger to 
 their souLs, from the heart of the Eternal Love, 
 bidding them be of good cheer; for they, with her, 
 are the servants of God and of His Christ, and they, 
 with her, must spend lives in a service of love to all 
 mankind. 
 
 THE END
 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Airlie, Lord, 7 
 
 Airlie l^xlge, Campdcn Hill, 7 
 
 Allan, Dr., 8 
 
 Ardencaple Castle, 16, 19 
 
 Argyll, Duke of, 
 
 — Duchess of, 1, 6, 20, 21, 26, 27, 
 28, 29, 41, &3, GO, 69, 100, 103, 
 101, 109, 111, 112 
 
 — George, 6lh Uuke of, 1, 2, 3, 4, 
 C, ir>, 17, IH, 19, 2<i, 21,27, 2S, 
 37, 42, 53, GO, KXJ, lOl, 102, 104, 
 109, 112, 114, 119, lar), 159,162, 
 209, 266, 276, 283, 203, 309 
 
 Argyll Lodge, 1, 2, 4, r., 6, 28, 81 
 
 B 
 
 Balfour, Blanche, 183 
 
 Bedford, Dowager Duchess of, 2 
 
 Bedford Lodge, 3 
 
 " Blackberry," 1 1 
 
 Brighton, 8, 12, 33 
 
 Brodie, Dr., 8 
 
 Brown, Dr. John, 53, 115, 147 
 
 Buuessan, 275, 292, 329 
 
 C 
 
 Campbell, Annie, 342 
 — Margaret, 109 
 
 Campbell, Lord Archibald, ix 
 
 — Lady Evelyn, 59, 61, 152 
 
 — Udy Emma, 7, 20, 41-9, 54-7, 
 69, 61, 63, 69, 78, 119, 251 
 
 — Lord John, 16 
 
 — Udy Eli.-yibeth, 61, 278 
 
 — Lady Victoria, birth and parent- 
 age, 1-4 ; youth, 6-12 ; illness, 
 9, 10, 32, 49-53, 73, 336, 337 ; 
 reminiscenccsof Eliziibcth King, 
 18-26 ; diary, 31, 58, 70, 72, 73, 
 106-8, 110, 111, 113-17, 120-35, 
 138-44, 146-52, 161, 162, 167, 
 189-92. 195-9, 208, 209, 222-4, 
 226-36, 262, 264, 267, 268, 
 271, 275, 291, 292, 309, 311, 
 312, 31G, 336, 347 ; at Cannes, 
 60, 61 ; diary of a year of 
 her life, 298-302 ; letters of, 
 63-P, 75-8, 98-100, 109, 112, 
 113, 144-6, 176-80, 193, 194, 
 202-7, 247-65, 266, 268, 271, 
 286-91, 294-96, 307, 308, 312- 
 17, 323-9, 331, 332, 339-45, 
 347, 349-54 ; and Kensing- 
 ton Home for Crippled Boys, 
 78 ; at Kensington Infirmary, 
 79 ; and church-going, 89, 94, 
 96 ; and Anglican Church, 90, 
 91, 221 ; and Church of Scot- 
 
 361
 
 302 
 
 INDEX 
 
 land, 94, 217 ; as a traveller, 
 128 ; her handwriting, difficulty 
 of, 169, 170; and women's »uf- 
 frage, 174, 175 ; ils a sjwakcr, 
 175 ; and politicjj, 17G ; rclatiuRS 
 with nephews and nicce«, 181, 
 182; and (lAclic, 215 ; her life 
 at the Ixxlp', Tirw, 332-6 ; 
 death, 355, 35G 
 
 Campion, KIizal>clli, 14, 15 
 
 (!andli.Hh, Dr., 43 
 
 Cannt'-v 40, 48, 59, 115, IIh, 119 
 
 Carlton Houso Terrace, 1 
 
 CarlyU', Rev. Gavin, 25, 89, 92 
 
 Chartcria, Dr., 93, 94, 129. 130, 
 259, 262, 32(>-2, 339 
 
 Cowic, Mr. Inaac, z 
 
 Cricfr, 59 
 
 Crinjean War, 1 
 
 Croft«r'i* agitation in I.«Iand of 
 Tire«, 162-9 
 
 Crou-n Court Church, 3, 4 
 
 Cumniiug, Dr., 3, 4, 209-14, 218 
 
 D 
 
 Dodds Mr., 40 
 Dougla*, Dr. lUlliday, 50-» 
 Ihif^lale, Mr*. Edgar, ix 
 Dyke-s Dr. Oswald, IM), 92, 269 
 
 O 
 
 r.illie.". Rev. William, 303 
 
 Ulad^Ume, Mr., 2, 112 
 
 Olyn, I^ly Mary, ix, 286 et $eq., 
 
 294-6, 312, 347, 350 
 ffordon, Mr*., 17H-«0 
 (hithric. Dr. 43, 53. 92,212 
 
 II 
 
 Henry of I'ru/wia, Prince, 63 
 Hewitt, Sir Trescott, 27 
 Holly Lodge, CamjKlen Hill, 6 
 
 I 
 
 Invermimy Ca»tlc, 10, 25, 29, 32, 60, 
 
 108, 807 
 lona, 279, 283 
 Irving, Edward, 3, 45 
 
 " Fanny," 23 
 
 Fleming, Rev. Archibald, ix, 328, 
 
 358 
 Frederick of PruMia, PnnccAs, 03 
 
 Jar\*i<», Frances, 125, 127 
 Johnstone, Oeorgina, 33-40 
 
 — Suaan, 39. 71 
 
 K 
 
 Kenmore, 139 
 Kinellan, 212 
 King, Elizabeth, 16, 17, 18, 10, 
 
 SO, 21, 22-7, 28, 29, 75, 80, 97, 
 
 98 
 
 — John, 16, 19, 20 
 
 Knowles, Elizabeth, 74, bO-7, 111, 
 224, 246, 342
 
 
 INDEX 
 
 3G3 
 
 " Larpie," 1 1 
 
 Ijcch, Very Rev. Sir Jamw, 3b>> 
 
 lA'veson-CJower, Latly Elizabeth, 
 
 16, 24 
 Lil)crU)ii, Jl), 48 
 "Life and Work," 1(1 
 Liverpool, 12 
 
 Ix)rne, Manjuiu of, 16, 2(i, 11!) 
 — Lady, 24 
 Lyell, Sir Charle.", 33 
 
 Macaulay, Lord, G 
 
 " MacHrayiic Heel," 238 d mq. 
 
 Macdiarmid, Mr., 243-5 
 
 — Mrs., X, 192, 193, 201, 202, 
 25:! d uq., Mt»7. 347 
 
 Maalonald, Dr., GO 
 
 MactJrcgor, Dr. ("Hainith"), b8, 
 
 93, 103, 104, 212, 2S2, 284 
 Maclagau, Hev. William, 90, 93 
 Macleod, Ur. Donald, 214 
 
 — Dr. Noruiau, 281, 357 
 Macrae, Mr., 4 
 McKichau, Rev. Mr., 169 
 McNeill, Lady Emma, 2S, (52. Set 
 
 also I^idy Emma Cam]>bell 
 
 — Sir John, 46, 62, 67, 98, 119, 
 190 
 
 Macpherson, Rev. D., 340, 350 
 
 McPhail, Mr., 323 
 
 McPhee, Mr?., 289 
 
 Milne, Mr., 65 
 
 Morgan, Dr. Campbell, l&l 
 
 Morritt, Mias, 80 
 
 N 
 Northumberland, Duchess of, 178 
 
 P 
 Phillimorc, Sir Walter, 3 
 
 R 
 Raglan, Lord, 1 
 Richmond, Miss Lee, x 
 Ritchie, Mr., x 
 Rosneath Cattle, 16, 18, 20, 25, 27, 
 
 109 
 Roth, Dr., 9, 70, 72 
 Russell, Loi-d John, 1 
 
 "Sandii," 11 
 
 Saphir, Dr. Adolph, 29, 56, 92, 97, 
 
 151, 214 
 Scott, Rev. David Clement, 318, 
 
 319 
 Shaftesbury, Lord, 132 
 Simpson, Sir James. 8, 50, 61 
 Sinclair, Archdeacon, 90 
 SUnley, Dean, 90, 144 
 Story, Rev. Dr., 70, 93, 282, 336 
 Sutherland, Harriet, Duchess of, 
 
 12, 41,50 
 — Duke of, 16 
 
 Taylor, Lady Elizabeth Clough, 
 
 274, 275 
 Teeming, Dr., 93 
 Temple, Archbishop, 313
 
 364 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Tirce, Island of, 101, 155 et. seq., 
 222, 223, 226-36, 238, et seq., 
 293, 314, 345 
 
 Tori)hichim Street, Edinburgh, 5U j 
 
 V 
 Victoria, Queen, 4, 26, 27, ft8, 311 
 
 W 
 
 Webb-Peploe, Mr., 93 
 William of Prussia, Prince, 63 
 Wilson, Rev. George, 322 
 
 Y 
 
 Y.W.C.A., 196, 197, 204, 230, 235, 
 253-5, 259, 288, 290, 341 
 
 PRIHTBO BV 
 
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