CARLYLE'S BROTHER JAMIE. By G.M.R.,

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Editorial.

N our last month's issue an accidental transposition of titles occurred in two of the photos illustrating the paper on Mr. William Robertson. "On the Tweed" should have been "On the Clyde;" while "On the Clyde" ought to have been "On the Tweed." The transposition was only discovered when too late to be remedied.

Then an esteemed correspondent points out that the artist has fallen into a very common error in his photo of Cavers Old Church. The Tombstone indicated is one "In memory of John Leyden and his parents." It is not the poet, however, but another Denholm family of Leydens. The poet's family-father, mother, sister, and two brothers, if not more-lie about twenty-five yards to the south. Their tombstone, a flat slab, is not shown in the photo.

In reply to numerous correspondents stating the difficulties they experience in getting The Border Magazine in London and the North of

England, we have much pleasure in intimating that arrangements have been made by which the Magazine may be procured from month to month as under :

LONDON: Mr. John Heywood, 29 Shoe Lane, E.C.
LIVERPOOL:
Do.
22 Paradise Street,
MANCHESTER :
Do.
Deansgate.
NEWCASTLE: Mr. Chas. C. Ross, 35 Side.

Owing to the illness of the author, the serial story, "The Quarry Master," is for the present discontinued.

Notices of BORDER BOOKS AND MUSIC unavoidably held over till next month.

We take the present opportunity of cordially thanking our numerous readers for their kind and helpful letters now and again. In reply to many inquiries as to what they can do to assist us, we have only to say: send a Border Magazine to all your friends, and get them so much interested in it that they will become regular subscribers, and thereby double the circulation. Better advice than that we do not know how to give.

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CHAP. VI.

HAVE now told enough to account to you for my isolation in the world, and it is no part of my purpose to weary you by narrating the rest of my story in detail. A very brief sketch may suffice to gratify your curiosity. Let me premise then that my prognostications proved correct, and that my life from the day I went to sea was as distinct from what had gone before as though by that act I had been born into a new world. The vessel in which I had sailed was a brig engaged in the coasting trade. Life on board of her was of the roughest, and work as heavy as anyone could wish, especially when cargo was being unloaded-at which times we would often toil unremittingly from daybreak until far into the night. For the first few days the enforced change in my habits was almost more than I could stand. But the adaptability of youth is boundless. My love of the sea, the charm of novelty in my surroundings, and, above all, my resolution to be a charge no longer on the bounty of that unknown guardian whose treatment I so bitterly resented-all these things combined to support me, and, in brief, where ninety-nine others, less tough in physic or less dogged in temperament, might have given in, I stuck stoutly to my point. To do this, as I have always found, is of itself enough to make circumstances more tolerable. And so, by degrees, I began to find myself more at ease. However, I think it is very doubtful whether this desirable result would have been attained but for the protection good-naturedly extended to me by the mate of the vessel. Thomas Tregarthen, for that was his name, was a young Cornishman of the most intrepid courage, which already at this period of his career he had amply proved by repeatedly plucking lives from the deep at the imminent risk of his own; and being, besides, a fervent Methodist and a staunch abstainer, he had by sheer force of character and skill and conduct in his profession conquered for his opinions the respect, though not the sympathy, of his messmates. From the first he took me under his charge, and to his friendship both then and since I owe more than I can now tell you. In the intervals which he spent on shore, Tregarthen would often officiate as a "local preacher," a task for which he was qualified rather by fervour of faith and an enthusiastic temperament than by education

or the more intellectual gifts of the evangelist. A conscience of his defects in this respect led him to set an undue value upon my poor scholastic attainments; and this, together with his desire to improve himself, constituted a fresh bond between us, until in time we became almost inseparable. Of course as an older man, for whom my admiration was boundless, he inoculated me with his religious ideas. And I remember that on one occasion-being windbound in a passage to Bristol-we two went ashore together, near the Land's End, and made a pilgrimage on foot to the little isthmus where Charles Wesley is said to have composed his hymn, "Here on this narrow neck of land," which likens that little sea-encompassed spot of earth to the fleeting life of man, set midway between two eternities. When we reached the place, Tom reverently uncovered his head, and standing in the sunlight high above the breaking waves, raised his voice and sweetly and solemnly sang the verses. Perhaps the place brought their meaning home to me, perhaps the virtue lay less in the thing preached than in the preacher. At all events I know that words which I had heard a hundred times from the lips of Miss Erne, with no emotion save one of weariness, now touched and swayed me, almost to weeping, with their simple expression of a sublime truth.

But I'm digressing. To resume,—after several voyages in the brig-where latterly, all things considered, I was fairly contented—my friend and I resolved to try and better our lot; and so, in Great Grimsby, we took a friendly leave of our captain- a man in whose composition good and evil were strangely mixed, but on the whole, I believe, with a preponderance of the former. We then entered into an engagement with the master of a fishing-smack sailing from that port, for the winter fishing of the profits of which we were to receive a share, which gave us as we thought a chance of making something for ourselves. And after a few days spent on shore, we set sail, shaping our course for the neighbourhood of the Dogger Bank, where we proposed to remain until our complement of salted fish should be made up. But this expedition, as it turned out, was to prove the most disastrous of all my many ventures by land or sea. We left Grimsby in the month of December of the severe winter of 18, when (though perhaps you don't feel the cold so much at sea as on land), the bitterness of the weather would of

itself have sufficed to make life on board the smack disagreeable. However this was by far the least of the ills we were called on to endure.

I suppose we might have been at sea a week when the captain-who so long as he remained on shore was the most plausible of men-revealed himself in his true colours. He was a hard drinker, and one whom brandy had the power of transforming into a very fiend of violence and cruelty. Nor were his crew much better than himself. Two of the hands were men of debased character, who tippled whenever they got the chance; a third, the second mate, though intelligent enough to have known. better, was a mere creature of the captain's pleasure, and would at any time sacrifice conscience in order to continue in his favour; whilst the fourth, whose name was Ambrose, though of amiable and inoffensive disposition, was as a seaman practically useless. His incapacity soon excited the spleen of the captain, who from oaths and insulting jeers passed rapidly to cuffs and blows, which, as he became steeped in liquor, grew daily more frequent and more violent. To all this, poor Ambrose submitted without a murmur of resentment.

His was,

indeed, the martyr's temper; but his very meekness, which would have made any other man despise to ill-use him, only seemed to infuriate the captain still more. His life became more and more of a burden to him, and at last not a day elapsed without seeing some brutal scene of cruelty enacted aboard the smack. And against all this it was useless to protest, for the captain was a man of superhuman strength and stature; whilst, excepting ourselves, the crew, when they did not actually abet him, beheld his misdeeds with indifference. At this time Tregarthen-to whose known friendship I pro bably owed the comparative immunity from illtreatment which I enjoyed-was partially confined to his bunk, and suffering great pain from a frost-bitten toe. He exerted his influence to the utmost; but he had a different class of men to deal with now, and it was to little purpose. So my days were passed, with a heavy heart, in hauling upon frozen ropes, beneath a leaden sky and in the teeth of a biting wind. Whilst day by day the captain's conduct became more outrageous, and his example gaining upon the crew, the vessel soon bid fair to become a perfect hell afloat. It was impossible for things to continue long as they were, and at last the crisis came.

This happened upon Christmas Day. Throughout the forenoon the Captain had remained secluded in his cabin, whence at intervals we

had been puzzled to hear the sound of hammering proceed. The question, "What can he be up to now?" had been asked, and received the answer, "No good, I'll warrant!" yet no one had liked to disturb him, for his moods were exceedingly variable, and I had observed that quiet fits usually preceded his worst outbursts. I was somewhat surprised, therefore, when about noon he came on deck, looking more composed than he had done of late, and in his manner apparently inclined to be jocular. Up the companion ladder followed him his tool, the second mate, who bore in his arms a cooper's cask. The captain-who, as I have said, spoke as well as any man when he chose-wished us a merry Christmas all round, and had a glass of grog served out to every man in honour of the day. Then, whilst we were drinking it, he made some remarks upon the season, and upon the sports and festivities appropriate to it; and then, remarking that we all looked cold, proposed that, to warm ourselves, we should place Ambrose in the cask, and roll him up and down the deck. Tregarthen was not present at the time; and we, being all of us mean enough to wish to humour our tyrant at the expense of what seemed a harmless frolic, pursued the poor pariah round the deck, and having captured him, forced him into the cask, and began to do as the Captain had suggested. But the fearful cries which greeted our ears from the interior soon made us desist in a panic; whereupon the captain, finding that we were not to be persuaded to go on, took the cask himself, and kicked it before him till he was tired. cries still continued, and this was so unlike the conduct of the usually patient Ambrose that of course we guessed that something must be very wrong. But the horrible truth surpassed the utmost flight of our imagination. For when at last the cask rested, and the wretched sailor crawled feebly from within, to our horror he appeared a mass of wounds; and then we saw what hitherto had escaped us, namely, that nails had been driven through the cask, so that their points protruded within, and that thus with every motion fresh lacerations had been inflicted on the flesh of the unhappy occupant. The sight of the result was more than the most hardened or servile human nature could endure without protest; and, as it met their eyes, a deep groan burst from the lips of the crew. But the diabolical tyrant to whom we owed obedience merely gave vent to a short ugly laugh, and turning on his heel descended to the cabin to resume his potations.

The

Throughout that afternoon poor Ambrose lingered in great agony. Night set in, it was

my watch on deck, and I had been dozing, when on looking up I was surprised to see his pale face and streaming hair flit by me. I spoke, but he did not answer; neither were my suspicions aroused. But the next day he was not found in his place. We searched for him in vain, and at last we were forced to the conclusion that the miserable man had put an end to his sufferings by jumping overboard.

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To be continued.

The Abbeys of the Border.

BY JAMES THOMSON.

NO. IV. KELSO.

HE name Kelso is said to be derived from Chalkheugh, the name of a remarkable cliff overhanging the Tweed, on the summit of which part of the town is built, signifying the chalk or white hill. The first mention of it is in the charter of the foundation by King David of the monastery of Kelso, where we find that there was a church of the blessed Virgin Mary on the bank of the river Tweed, in the place which is called Calkou. The monks were of a reformed class of the Benedictine order called Tironenses, from their first establishment at Tiron in France. The brethren, were required to practise within the convent whatever mechanical art they knew, and accordingly we find among the monks of this order painters, carvers, carpenters, smiths, masons, vinedressers and husbandmen, the profits of their work being applied to the common use.

Their dress was at first of grey cloth, but afterwards they wore a black habit. These monks were originally placed by David at Sel kirk, but were removed by him to Kelso, on its foundation, and their abbots were ordained to be his chaplains, and likewise of his successors. A priory, which became a dependency of Kelso, was founded in 1144 at Lesmahagow in Clydesdale, and had the right of sanctuary or refuge attached to it to all fleeing from their enemies or avengers whenever they came inside the four crosses erected within its limits. The monasteries of Aberbrothoc, Lindores, and Kilwinning were likewise at first dependencies of Kelso.

Prior Walter of Kelso took a leading part in opposing the claims made by Roger, Archbishop of York, to the primacy of the Scottish Church. This haughty prelate demanded that the Scottish clergy should meet him at Norham in his capacity as Papal legate, having by intrigue obtained appointment as legate for Scotland in order to further his usurping designs. Prior Walter was sent, along with others, to deny the

legitimacy of his appointment, as they had been used to the appointment of legate from among themselves. They did not prevail against the Archbishop, but the matter having been referred to the Pope, the independence of the Scottish Church from all other sees, except that of Rome, was decided. At the same period the Abbot John obtained the great distinction, for himself and his successors, of wearing a mitre upon fit occasions, during mass, in processions in the cloisters, and when assisting at the Pope's councils. This same Abbot John, because of the position of wealth and splendour that his monastery had obtained by benefactions and careful management of the monks, claimed precedence of the superiors of all other religious houses in Scotland, but the point was ultimately decided in favour of the prior of St. Andrews.

About 1203 Innocent III. wrote two pontificial epistles on behalf of the monastery, the one directing that the emoluments of the benefice should be directed towards the maintenance of the brethren, hospitality to the stranger, and charity to the poor, instead of being conferred on individuals after the example of some abbots. The other letter was addressed to the bishops and other high ecclesiastics in Scotland, prohibiting them from injuring the monastery. Hence it is probable the privileges of the monks had been invaded.

Henry de Lambeden, chamberlain of the monastery, returned to Kelso from Rome in 1260 with an order for the Abbot Patrick to resign his charge immediately into the hands of the bearer. The abbot at once obeyed, though the order was undoubtedly obtained by corruption, and Henry at once assumed the mitre and robes of his office. Some years afterwards, when he died suddenly at table in a fit of apoplexy, the monks said it was an interposition. of heaven to punish him for his wicked ambition, and refused to pay him the honour of watching his corpse, burying him on the same night on which he died.

It is thus seen that all the formalities of indictment before a general assembly were not gone through in these days in order to depose a clergyman. Another instance of this summary procedure happened on the night after the Battle of Flodden in 1513, when Ker of Fernihurst broke into the Abbey of Kelso, and having turned the superior out of doors, took forcible possession on behalf of his brother Thomas, who was instituted abbot.

Kelso suffered like the other sacred houses during the English wars of this period. The abbot, fearing impending ruin on the invasion of the Borders by the Earl of Surrey in 1523,

wrote seeking the intercession of Margaret, the queen dowager, sister of Henry VIII., with the commander on his behalf. But his efforts were unavailing, for the town and conventual build ings were destroyed by Lord Dacre, and all religious services were interrupted. The monks, during this stormy time, retired to one of the neighbouring villages, and performed their religious duties in the direst poverty. The history of the next succeeding years is a constant record of pillage and plunder, in which Kelso had its share of suffering.

After the Reformation the ruins of the Abbey seem to have been still used for religious services. A low vault was built over the transept, the ruins being still further defaced to supply material. In this gloomy den the parish congregation met and continued to use it till 1771, when one Sunday a portion of cement from the roof fell in, causing a panic in the crowded assembly. They rushed in terror from the building, believing that the whole roof had given way. From that time the old church remained deserted; the people would not be persuaded