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    190 A WEEK IN SCOTLAND.

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  • Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.

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    A —. ~* You Need Not Be Afraid, Dear Rea...

    and tliere before our astonished eyes is a bed made up apparently on a cupboard shelfwhereinif one sleptone would certainly be

    de-, , , voured by the rats , or else get locked up like Ginevra , and never be heard of again . Our stout Saxon hearts quail , and we run down

    the turret stair considerably faster than we came up , assuring our tall guide with the blue badge of Social Science that " It won't do at all . "

    We refer to the next on our list—same street—Mrs . Macdonaid—but her rooms are let . Finally we _sto-p at ninety-three , written down

    as Mrs . Mackenzie ' s . Into ninety-three we go : up one flight of stairs , —Mr . Forbes ; up two nights of stairs , — -Mrs . Ramsay ; up

    three nights of stairs , —Mr . Stewart ;—good gracious , where does this lady live?—up four flights of ( stone ) stairs—and a neat brass plate

    announces Mrs . Mackenzie at last . _jSTow do not think , dear reader , that I am going to lay bare the sacred hospitalities of an honest

    Scotch hearth . Too well I know that the Lares and Penates of every home watch the portals with finger on the lips ; suffice it that at the

    first sight of Mrs . Mackenzie and her sweet little daughter we closed at once ; forgot the four flights of stone stairs , and the steep flags

    of _Soiith Mecklenburgh Street , and settled in , trunks and all ( how they got up , the brawny shoulders of the Scotch cabman

    only knows ) and forthwith sent our names with the above address to the " list of members" published every day for the comfort and

    curiosity of visitors to the Association . And now that I have brought you so far , dear reader , I feel a

    certain hesitation as to what shall be said—what left unsaid—I need not describe the " President's Address , " delivered in the

    evening at the City Hall , where the white-haired President sketched the triumphs of the yearand enunciated the claims of 1861 with

    the same accents which had , addressed the sires and grand & Lres of that very assemblage in the city of Glasgow sixty years ago .

    Do you want to know what an Association looks like on the outside ? I will try and describe it .

    In the heart of old Glasgow city , where the irregular streets are mercifully left to the caprice of antiquity , not far from the cathedral

    which Knox preserved , when Melrose and . Dunfermline were laid bare to the winds of heaven , stands Glasgow College , It is more

    than four hundred years old , and owes its origin to one of the popes . It is curiouslblack and sombreand there is not a straight line about

    it . The wall y seems to stand crooked , with the streetand the grand , old tower stands crooked to the rest of the building ; it reminds one

    of the _XDalace of the Doges at Venice , whose specific beauty , according to Jtuskin , consists in its utter want of rule and line .

    The College has turrets in the corners of the quadrangle—turrets with peaked tops like a witch ' s cap ; and the staircaseon which

    fabulous beasts mount guard , is of massive stone , and winds , from the Fore-Kail over the main entrance down into the quadrangle—again

    lik panel e the ed Doge ; the s' floor palace is po A lis sp hed lendid , and room at the is this head Fore of the Hall long , dark table and

    190 A Week In Scotland.

    190 A WEEK IN SCOTLAND .

• Citation
  • English Woman’s Journal (1858-1864), Nov. 1, 1860, page 190, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/ewj/issues/ewj_01111860/page/46/