I was born on the 9th of October, 1797, in the village of Tweedmouth, in North Durham. My father, William Skeen, was a fisherman, whose ancestors had resided near Elgin, in Morayshire, for many generations; but his father, in early life, had left the paternal 'home in Scotland and migrated to the North of England, where he married, and lived to a good old age. He died in Tweedmouth about the year 1802, highly respected by all who knew him.

My father married Margaret Nesbit, the daughter of a neighbouring farmer. They had a family of six sons and four daughters; I was the oldest. To maintain so many was a severe struggle, on the scanty and precarious earnings of a fisherman. But we never suffered actual want.

It was the great desire of our parents to give us as good an education as the village schools could bestow; and this they accomplished. We were taught reading, writing, and arithmetic. It was a good foundation on which to build. I was blessed with a retentive memory, and could read fluently when only five years old. The Bible was the great school-book; and the portions I committed to memory (as extra lessons) were considered proofs of unusual ability by the seniors of the village. I was a great favourite among the old fishermen, and frequently joined them when fishing on the sea-shore or at the rocks off the mouth of the Tweed. Some of them predicted that I would become a Doctor of Divinity! Two, indeed, of my village companions attained to that distinction,—the Rev. Dr. Robert Lee, of Edinburgh (whose life was published a few years ago), and the Rev. Dr. Nisbet, many years a missionary in India. Another, though younger companion, was John Wilson, author of the well-known "Tales of the Borders." All the three have been dead several years.

Apprenticed

Having a vigorous constitution, I took great delight in all the outdoor games of boyhood, and was especially distinguished for fleetness of foot. More than once I accompanied an uncle in his visits to the Cheviot Hills, which I keenly enjoyed.

But my school-boy days soon came to an end. It was necessary I should work. On the 5th of March 1810 (when I was not quite 12½ years old), I was ushered into the printing-office of Mr. Lochhead, of Berwick-on-Tweed, he was rather a harsh man ; but I liked the business very well, and took to it kindly. Our hours of work were long—from about 6 a.m. to 8 p.m. Notwithstanding, I found time to read at night, often when the rest of the family were asleep. Many of our friends supplied me with books, for my father's shelves were but scantily furnished. He had; however, among others, Josephus's "Wars of the Jews," by L'Estrange, which I read through more than once. An odd volume (the last) of the Spectator, also, I remember, highly interested me.

An effort of memory some time after I was apprenticed had nearly changed my whole course of life. I had heard a sermon one day from a reverend gentleman who lived some miles off, on the words of Paul, "God forbid that I should glory, save in the Cross of the Lord Jesus Christ”. It was a forcible and well-delivered discourse. Some twelve months afterwards he came on a visit to Berwick, and there preached the same sermon. I remembered it all, and, going home, wrote it down from beginning to end. The manuscript was handed about; my friends were not a little proud of it; and some gentlemen in the neighbourhood into whose hands it fell talked seriously of sending me to college. But I felt no special inclination to study theology, and eventually preferred to remain a Printer rather than to become a Parson. This I have never regretted.

Printing-office

In the Printing-office I learned to work at press as well as at case. The latter, of course, was more congenial; and the master soon discovered that to him it was more profitable. Our work consisted chiefly in bringing out editions of popular works, which were sold in numbers or parts (6d. or 1s. each) by agents (colporteurs), who carried them through the towns and villages in the South of Scotland and North of England. Others beside my master were engaged in a similar business. In this way, thousands of copies of the Bible (usually 4to. with notes), Brown's Dictionary, the "General Gazetteer," &c., were circulated among the poorer classes, who could spend a shilling or sixpence for a monthly part, but never would have saved enough to buy the whole book at once.

There were in the office five or six boys and two or three journeymen. Among the boys a spirit of emulation arose, a strife who should compose the greatest number of lines in a given time. This lasted for weeks, or rather months. We put ourselves on our mettle, and worked as if life and death depended on the issue. It was for the barren honour of victory. Our extraordinary efforts added not a penny to our stipulated wages. The master was the sole gainer.—No! We also were gainers. At least, I know that the impulse then given, and the singular swiftness and accuracy in composing which I then acquired, never left me, and proved of great advantage in my future career.

We had very few holidays. It was not the fashion to give them, and therefore they were not expected. I had formed acquaintance with a few young men, who were bent on self-improvement: so we met on stated evenings, and spent a few hours in reading and discussion. These meetings attracted the attention of several of our seniors, who joined and encouraged us. They proved very profitable, not only by the useful knowledge we acquired, but by the habit then induced of expressing our thoughts with great readiness and accuracy.

Sunday School

About the same time, also, at the request of a few gentlemen interested in the education of the young, I undertook, in conjunction with another, the management of a Sunday-school in an adjoining village (Ord). One of my friends had been a shepherd in his earlier life among the Cheviot Hills. He and other herds formed a circulating library. The sheep-walks were very extensive, and in some places there were boundaries of loose stone walls. In certain crannies in these walls they agreed to deposit whatever books they might acquire-having first read them. The next who passed that way took the volume so deposited, leaving another in its place. The first, after being read, was carried miles farther on, and left in another similar depository; and so on, for a circuit of thirty or forty miles. The shepherds seldom saw each other, but their books bound them together, -profitably occupying their leisure time, and expanding their intellect.

On the expiration of my apprenticeship I went to Edinburgh; visited several relatives there; and, after a few days, finding no employment, walked westward forty miles to Glasgow. In this city I first heard the celebrated Dr. Chalmers. He preached in his own church, from the text: "In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." The place was crowded. I stood the whole time. Though he read the sermon, I have never witnessed such breathless attention in any audience during my whole life.

I was much pleased with Glasgow; visited the University, the Cathedral (see "Rob Roy "), and other public buildings. It has wonderfully increased since that time. There being no prospect of employment here, I left Glasgow by the way of the Stirling Canal;—it was very pleasant travelling in the canal boats, though rather slow, especially in passing through the locks; I think at one place there were seventeen in succession. On reaching Edinburgh I stayed a few days, and visited most of the interesting localities in the city and neighbourhood. It was now needful I should return home, and I walked from Edinburgh to Berwick, fifty miles, in one day!

Salmon Fishing

Instead of proceeding at once to London, my father persuaded me to engage in the salmon-fishing with him, as extra hands were wanted from May to October. It was to me

a very pleasant season. Salmon were abundant. I had a good deal of leisure time, for we could only fish at certain periods of the tide, the sea driving us twice a day from our fishing-ground, which was a sand-bank at the mouth of the river. As the tides varied, so did our hours of work. We were often up at three and four in the morning—often late at night. The weather was of no consequence—hot or cold, sunshine or storm, wet or dry—it was all the same to us. Sometimes, on a hot day, while waiting for the signal from the boatman at the "Stell," I have gone to sleep on the sandy beach, and, on waking, found I had been drenched to the skin by a sudden shower. It did me no harm. Fishermen very rarely catch cold on the sea-shore. This sort of education, no doubt, hardened and invigorated the body. But the mind, also, received some education during my fisherman-life. I had a desire to learn Greek, and induced the schoolmaster of the village to join me. We found a neighbouring clergyman (Rev. W. Whitehouse) willing to give us lessons. We procured grammars, and lexicons, and went doggedly to work. Often the grammar accompanied me to the sea-shore, where the fishermen, notwithstanding the novelty of the affair, encouraged rather than hindered me; for, though unlearned, they were by no means ignorant men.

The fishing season came to an end before I had caught a thorough knowledge of Greek. But what I then learnt has proved very serviceable during the whole of my life, and forms a pleasing reminiscence of my fishing days.

Off to London

It was now decided I should go to London; so, in November, 1817, I took a passage in the Berwick smack Ceres, Captain W. Crow. We had a pleasant voyage of five days. Off Aldborough, I remember, we heard the bells tolling at midnight for the funeral of the lamented Princess Charlotte of Wales.

My departure made the first gap in our family circle. Of my five brothers, one died young, another went to sea, and, to our great grief, was drowned in the Baltic; a third, Alexander, was a printer, and latterly carried on business in Great-St. Helen's, Bishopsgate; he died suddenly at Ventnor, in 1873. His business is conducted by one of his nephews. In the same year my youngest brother, William, died on his sixty-first birthday. He had devoted himself to reporting for the Press, first for the Edinburgh Courant. He afterwards came to London, and for several years reported for the Standard. In the gallery of the House of Commons he was well known and highly esteemed. Besides reporting, he contributed many original articles to various magazines. My second brother and our four sisters still survive.

With such a family, it will be readily understood that my parents, when I left the "hearthstone," could bestow on me little beside their blessing. That was enough. My heart was high with hope, and I could never forget their bright example of faith and fortitude.

On arriving in London I was kindly received by two relatives. But the letters of introduction I carried helped me to no employment. For a month I went about inquiring, and then thought of entering the Company's service and going to the East Indies. But soon afterwards I obtained work at Camberwell, where the Encyclopaedia, Metropolitana was then being printed. Never since have I been unemployed.

I remained at Camberwell for a considerable period, and, having saved a few pounds, resolved to take a wife. That was a step in the right direction, and never have I repented taking it! For my wife has proved one of the choice ones of the earth. Never man had a better. "We were both under twenty-two years of age when married on July 3, 1819 ; and now, after nearly fifty-seven years, my dear partner still retains all the cheerfulness and much of the activity of her early life. On our Golden Wedding, in 1869, many kind friends united with the family in its celebration.

When the Printing-office at Camberwell was closed, towards the end of 1819, the overseer, who had proved very friendly, recommended me to take charge of a small office at Guildford, in Surrey. I accordingly went thither; but after a few weeks I found there was scarcely any business doing, and little prospect of an increase; so I resigned and returned to London, and got employment at Messrs. Gilbert's, in St. John's Square. After a while the work there became slack. As I could not afford to be idle, I left and went to Mr. Dove's, also in St. John's Square. Here there was abundance of work, and I did very well.

Dove Printers

Mr. Norman was then an apprentice in the office, and we became acquainted. An accident introduced me to the Reading Room; for, during a pressure of business, Mr. Dove asked me one evening to take some proof-sheets home to read. I gladly consented, and finished them before I slept. On presenting them in the morning, he could scarcely believe I had gone through them. On examination, however, he was satisfied in all respects. Thenceforth I was installed as a Reader, and continued in that capacity for some years. On the retirement of our excellent and worthy overseer, Mr. B. Clark(Author of the well-known hymn, "Not lost, but gone before."). I was appointed in his place. This situation I found was no sinecure; for the office, was large and the master had a peculiar temper. However, on the whole, I had no great reason to complain. In 1832 he retired from business, chiefly, as was understood, in consequence of the death of Sir William Middleton, who had supplied him with money to carry on the business, and was a partner in it. The young baronet insisted on a dissolution of the partnership. This was done. Everything was sold off; and Dove, having no family, retired to a village in Suffolk, where he died a few years ago, at the age of 75, He had greatly coveted civic honours, and offered himself a candidate for the Aldermanship of Bishopsgate Without, and afterwards made efforts to obtain the office of Sheriff, but, in each case, he was disappointed.

When the art of stereotyping was first discovered, Dove took great interest in it, and built a foundry on his premises, for the casting of his own plates. Many visitors called to see the process, to the no small emolument of the stereotyper. I had not been long engaged as Reader when Dove employed me in compiling Indexes to many of the works he printed. This I did at night, when the day's work was over, for which I received extra pay. I also wrote for him several Prefaces, Memoirs, &c., especially in 1827 and 1828, when he printed and published, in thirty volumes, " The British Essayists, with Prefaces, &c., by the Rev. R. Lynam, A.M., and others." — I believe I was the only "others." Soon afterwards I was employed in editing a new edition of "Joe Miller," in which I omitted all the coarse jests, and inserted a large number of attic anecdotes. I remember, also, in reprinting Barbauld's Evenings at Home, if I recollect rightly, this was one of a series, in 32mo, known as "Dove's Classics."Ttwo tales were found to be copyright, and my pen had to furnish two original tales, but with the same titles. One was "The Council of Quadrupeds."

Norman Printers

Before Dove's Printing-office was finally closed I had three distinct offers of employment from different printers. Several kind friends also urged me to commence business on my own account; to this, however, as I had no money, I would not consent. I preferred the offer made by Mr. Norman. It was not the most brilliant, so far as remuneration was concerned, but mere money was never my chief object. I had become acquainted with Mr. Norman several years before, and knew that I should find in him a congenial spirit—one with whom I could feel at home, and whose kindness and liberality I might safely trust. Nor have I been disappointed:—for, during the forty-four years we have been together, I have never had any reason to regret my position.

But, indeed, in the whole affair I was acting in the spirit of an admonition which had been impressed upon me in early life:— " Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding; in all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths." So with this conviction I entered on my duties in the Printing-office, carrying out my old motto: "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might." I can truly say that work never was a burden to me. I enjoyed it.

Mr. Norman's business steadily increased, which was a source of pleasure to me. For his industry, punctuality, and unswerving integrity deserved success; besides, it gave the greater occupation to my faculties.

Moravians

Shortly after our marriage, in 1819, my wife and I joined the Church of the United Brethren (or Moravians). This Church originated in Bohemia (in 1457), 42 years after the martyrdom of John Huss. Indeed, the Brethren have been called "Bohemian Hussites." In a few years they increased and multiplied, and had many congregations in Poland, as well as in Bohemia and Moravia. They were the first who translated and printed the Bible in their own language. But in 1510 a furious persecution arose, and they were scattered to the four winds. Indeed, their Papal enemies believed that the "pestilent heresy" had been completely extirpated. For, in reference to them, in the Lateran Council of 1513, it was declared: "There is an end of resistance to the Papal rule and religion, opposers there exist no more." But a few were left in Moravia, who transmitted their principles to their descendants. Very little was known of them, however, until about the year 1720, when some of them emigrated into Saxony, where they found a home and liberty of conscience on the estate of Count Zinzendorf. Congregations were soon afterwards formed in various parts of Germany, in Holland, and in England, and also in America. They have been distinguished by efforts for the conversion and civilization of the Heathen—among the Negroes in the West Indies and Surinam—the American Indians —the Greenlanders and Eskimoes—the Hottentots and Caffres—the Mongolians and Australians, &c. The translation of the Bible into the native languages has ever been kept steadily in view.

The only congregation of the Moravians in London is in Fetter Lane. It was never numerous. But I found myself at home, and took a lively interest in the affairs of the Church at large. There were in the congregation some large-hearted and intellectual men; and meetings with such were organized and maintained for several years. Our readings and conversation were equally pleasant and profitable. Among them were Mr. Benham, late of Regent Square, a great book-collector, author of many pamphlets and compiler of several larger works; Dr. Horsfield, Librarian of the East-India House, a botanist long resident in Java, who discovered the real properties of the Upas-tree; Rev. P. La Trobe, secretary to the Missions of the Brethren, &c. These and others are all gone—I alone am left!

In 1835 I was appointed the "Steward" of the congregation (previously I had been a member of the Committee, and remain so to the present day). My duties were multifarious, involving the receipt of all contributions and payment of all expenses, and the providing of all things necessary for the order and maintenance of the various services. All this occupied a considerable portion of my leisure time at night. It was truly a labour of love, for in the spirit of the Church such services are performed gratuitously. I held the stewardship for 35 years, and in 1871 resigned it (being in my 74th year) to a younger and more active member of the congregation.

I was also elected to represent the congregation at Provincial Synods on three several occasions. These are held at intervals of six or eight years, and choose the Board of Direction, revise the constitution of the Church, &c.

In 1853 I was chosen a member of the Society for the Furtherance of the Gospel, which office I hold to the present day. The Society's chief object (beside "furthering" missionaries of the Brethren's Church who pass through London), is the maintenance of the mission among the Eskimoes on the coast of Labrador. For this purpose they have a ship of their own, which has, for above 100 years, successfully performed the voyage to and from that dreary and dangerous coast. One of the Labrador missionaries, Mr. Miertsching, he was a Vend, born in Upper Lusatia. In 1875 he died at Kleinwelka, in Saxony, aged 58 years, accompanied Captain M'Clure as interpreter, in the "Investigator," when they discovered the North-west Passage (Oct. 26, 1850).

About the year 1835 an extraordinary and unsought-for offer of £1,000 was made to me, by two kind friends, to enable me to go into business on my own account, the money to be repaid when convenient; and if I should fail, the loss" to be entirely theirs. Their only object was "to enable me, by an increase of means, to increase my ability to do good; and also to keep the boys about me." (Our family was rapidly increasing.) Mr. Ridgway (the grandfather of the present), bookseller, in Piccadilly, was also favourable to the project, and promised his support. My friends, generally, pressed me to accept the generous offer. But I hesitated, and sought counsel. I shrunk from the responsibility of bearing such a burden of debt, and felt that the cares and anxieties of business thus burdened would not suit my temperament. I therefore, with grateful thanks, declined the offer of my kind friends.

Having mentioned the matter to Mr. Norman, he at once proposed to increase my salary, with promises of collateral and prospective advantages (such as taking the boys apprentice, &c.), all of which he kindly and generously carried out. At the same time he suggested that I should insure my life, which I immediately did.

Of our eight sons—one died in early life — the remaining seven were all in due time apprenticed to Mr. Norman. "We had also four daughters — two of whom died in childhood.

Homeward Ho!

In 1836, having been absent from home above eighteen years, I was enabled to carry out a long-cherished desire to visit the "old familiar haunts." It will readily be imagined that an uninterrupted correspondence was maintained with my beloved relatives. Moreover, I had had the pleasure of welcoming my parents to my home in London on more than one occasion. My dear wife, with two of the children, had also visited them in Tweedmouth a few years before.

I embarked on July 27, on board the steamer Water-witch. (There was no railway to the North in those days.) In the Humber we got on board the Eclipse, for Newcastle; thence we proceeded by the Ardincaple, bound for Leith. But in Berwick Bay we encountered a violent storm. I shall never forget the scene—it really was grand. Billow after billow rose high above the vessel's bows, threatening to swallow us up; while the ship, persistently surmounting every crest, seemed to defy their fury. We were obliged, however, to turn back and take refuge behind the Farne Islands. Next day we endeavoured to reach the Firth of Forth, but could not, and were compelled to run for Berwick Harbour. Here several of the passengers landed. This was rather an advantage to me, for now I was at home. I had, however, a narrow escape. On stepping from the paddle-box to the pier I should have fallen into the sea if a sailor had not caught my arm—and saved my life!

My thus unexpected arrival gave great joy to all my friends, especially to my parents.

Since I had left the village many of my acquaintances had died, or gone to other places; several of the old fishermen, however, remained, and were glad to see me—the more so, as some remarked that I still retained many of my old habits, and had not forgotten the Northumbrian dialect.

I paid a visit, among many others, to the clergyman who had given me lessons in Greek. He was very cordial. Brought out a MS. volume of poetry (I believe he had not fixed on a title), and insisted on reading to me a few pages. He wanted my opinion of its merits. So I proposed to glance over it—which I did very rapidly. "Well—what did I think? "—"I can't find any bones in it. "—" Bones ! Mr. Skeen; what do you mean?"—"Why, murders, bloody battles! " —"Well," he replied, " you will find one allusion to a battle ! "—Two lines I remember:

"While Roger whistled at the plough,

And Nancy milk'd the nut-brown cow "—

may be taken as a fair sample of the whole. It seemed to me somewhat in the style of Beattie's “Minstrel.” But the good man wanted to print it—by subscription. His chief anxiety, however, was about the pointing. I advised him to leave that to the printers, who understood punctuation better than most authors. This he evidently doubted. The precious volume had occupied much of his time during several years—to the exclusion, I fear, of many more weighty matters. In fact, it seemed to have both narrowed and enfeebled his intellect. What became of his poetry I never learnt. Our interview had a curious termination. I had noticed that he asked me, as I thought, several irrelevant questions and made remarks I did not quite understand. As I was about to take leave, he made an observation which suddenly enlightened me, and I said: "Mr. Whitehouse, do you know to whom you are speaking? "—" Yes ; to William Skeen, to be sure! " —" Well, I thought so; but I am not William."—"Not William! Surely you cannot be Robert?"—"I am, though," was my rejoinder—to his great joy and amazement. The likeness between us, in early life, was rather striking. We had not seen each other for above eighteen years; but my old friend had seen him recently, and was struck with the resemblance. My brother was then reporting for the Courant, at Edinburgh, where I hoped in a few days to have the pleasure of meeting him.

I visited Mr. Whitehouse more than once, enjoying his conversation while strolling along the sea-shore. Nor did we omit a plunge in the deep. But my time was limited. After six days of pleasant intercourse" with, my friends, and visiting most of my old haunts, I took leave of my revered parents, and started for Edinburgh by coach. At Cockburnspath (Coppersmith) (where Cromwell found himself in a difficulty, before the battle of Dunbar) the horses became restive, and we were nearly upset. At Edinburgh I was joyfully welcomed by my brother William. He also was married, and had a family. We spent two or three days happily together.

Shipwrecked

On taking leave of him at Leith, I embarked in the steamer Pegasus, about to start for Hull. There were a large number of passengers. All went well till we passed the Farne Islands (where Grace Darling and her father so heroically rescued the shipwrecked crew of the Forfarsliire). I was chatting on deck with some of the passengers, when the ship struck with great force:—some were capsized—all staggered. I looked to the shore, and calculated we should be able to swim to land. Presently the carpenter reported five feet water in the hold. We had struck a rock under water. It was not marked in the chart—but there are many such on that coast—and the captain ought to have kept farther out. His silly excuse was that he wished the passengers to have a good view of the picturesque and precipitous shores of Northumberland! We discovered that he was a novice and a relative of the owners.

A signal of distress being hoisted, a fishing-boat came alongside. Her master undertook to run our vessel, on shore, between two ledges of rock, which he skilfully accomplished. On landing we found ourselves at the small village of Newton-by-the-sea.

The ship's bows had been completely cut through by the sharp edge of the rock. The captain started at once for Edinburgh, to apprise the owners of his mishap. He soon returned with several carpenters, and within twenty-four hours afterwards the Pegasus was reported seaworthy. In the meantime, several of us had strolled about the adjoining country. We were about two miles north of the picturesque ruin of Dunstanboro' Castle, which stands on a promontory jutting into the sea. Some of our fellow-passengers, however, had been thoroughly frightened, and refused to embark, preferring a journey by land to any further exposure to the dangers of the deep.

The Pegasus, however, got to Hull safely. I had written to London, from Newton, to allay anxiety, which would naturally arise on account of our detention. But the postal service was very defective in that fishing village, and I got to London before the letter, having embarked in the Vivid at Hull.

I found all of the family well, and the business in the office going on smoothly. The excursion had done me good, and I resumed work with renewed vigour.

Tweed

In 1838 I again visited the Tweed. On that occasion, accompanied by my dear father, I made a pilgrimage to Lindisfarne, the celebrated Holy Island. A flat sand, about two miles wide, separates it from the coast of Northumberland during low water; but when the tide rises, the sand is overflowed, and Lindisfarne is then truly an island. Many have been drowned in attempting to cross when the tide was rising.

We got over safely, but barefooted; for the sand is in many places not merely wet, but full of shallow pools, which must be crossed. There are small heaps of stones and poles at intervals, to mark the way for travellers across the sands.

The island is highly interesting, locally and historically; of course there are legends also. The Cathedral is a grand ruin. There are remains also of the old Monastery.

St. Cuthbert is the patron saint, not of Holy Island only, but of all Northumbria. His body, after many adventures, now rests in Durham Cathedral. The Danes had ravaged the island more than once. There is a fine stone cross in the centre of its only village. I made rather copious notes of this visit, which were afterwards expanded and preserved in a "luminous, learned, and lengthy Log."

A few days afterwards (Sept. 4), with two of my nephews, I made a journey to Norham Castle, and St. Cuthbert's Chapel at the junction of the Till and the Tweed. It proved a very wet day, but our spirits were not damped. In Norham churchyard I visited the grave of my maternal grandmother, and copied the inscription on her tombstone. The vicar, the Rev. Dr. Gilly, author of the Life of Felix Neff, was from home, but his son courteously showed us his beautiful garden, which had been laid out by the sculptor Chantrey. The square tower of Norham Castle is still in a fair state of preservation: it is about 100 feet high. In and around it are occasionally dug up relics of antiquity. In the village is a fine old stone cross.

Stone Boat?

At that time there was no bridge over-the Tweed at Norham, so we crossed to the north side by the ferry-boat at Upsettlington, a little above Ladykirk, the seat of W Robertson, Esq. Our walk on the Scottish side of the river was delightful. On arriving opposite the mouth of the Till, we procured a boat, and pulled across to St. Cuthbert's Chapel. The present structure had been built on the site of the ancient one; but though comparatively modern, it was sadly dilapidated. Doors and windows were gone, the ceiling nearly destroyed, and the floor strewed with rubbish. But where was the celebrated Stone Boat? We had been told at the village on the Scotch side of the river that we should find it—cracked, indeed, but still entire. Some years before, it had been con­verted into a swine's trough by the farmer of the land on which the Chapel stands; now, not a vestige of it was to be seen. Thinking it might have been broken in pieces, I picked up what I hoped was a fragment, and returned to our boat much disappointed.

On landing, we resolved to walk home by the English side of the Tweed. We were here not far distant from Flodden Field (which I had seen in early life), where was fought the famous battle described by Scott with a pen of fire in the marvellous pages of "Marmion"

Close by us was Twizell Castle, begun by a Sir Francis Blake many years before, but never finished, and now actually decaying. Soon afterwards we met an old shepherd, to whom I told the tale of our disappointment, and showed him what I supposed to be a piece of the Boat. " No, no," he said, "the Boat was red sandstone. "(Mine was grey.) "But what has become of the Boat?" "I know," he replied; "the former tenant turned it into a swine's trough, and the pigs cracked it. He never prospered after; lost his leg, and is now herding sheep over yonder. The present farmer broke it in pieces, and used them for draining-tiles in the field where the Chapel stands. This was about three years since. I saw it done, for I was herding there at the time." I told him it was downright sacrilege. The old herd thought so too, and added that "heavy misfortunes had fallen on his family." I felt half inclined to go back and dig up the drain!

But, after all, that was not the end of the famous Stone Boat, in which St. Cuthbert had floated down the Tweed from Melrose Abbey, 1,200 years ago.

A day or two afterwards I was invited to a "kettle," by some of my old friends, the fishermen. To them I related the story of my pilgrimage to St. Cuthbert's Chapel. Old Swinhoe, one of our party (once an active smuggler, shrewd and intelligent), took up the story, and told me that when Sir Francis Blake learnt the fate of the Boat he "waxed exceeding wroth," and commanded the sacrilegious farmer instantly to dig up the precious fragments, and convey them to Twizell House, his seat on the banks of the Till. There they remain. Swinhoe, seeing the interest I took in the old Stone Boat, said one of his nephews was living with Sir Francis, and much in his confidence, and he would send to him for a bit, I thanked him, but thought no more of it. However, on the morning I was preparing to leave for London, Swinhoe appeared with a bit of the boat, nearly as large as my hand, rather rounded, as if broken off between the bottom and the side. I carried it home as a singular relic of antiquity.

There is an interesting account of St. Cuthbert and his Boat in Ridpath's Border History (I believe now a scarce 4to volume). It is there stated that the then Sir Francis Blake (100 years ago), with a party of his friends launched the Stone Boat on the river, where it floated with a man on board ; thus proving, so far, the truth of the old legend. In Chambers' Journal, a few years since, I read an article on the Boat, but the writer was evidently ignorant of its later history; indeed, I believe not many persons are acquainted with the particulars which came to my knowledge during this visit to the Tweed.

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