A SCOTTISH MOTHER.
[To THE EDITOR OF Ina " SPECTATOR."] SIR,—Your correspondent " Scotus " misquotes Hogg's song, " Cam ye by Athol," in one or two slight particulars. /The lines read:— " I hae but ae son, my gallant young Donald, But if I had ten they should follow Glengarry." The " gallant young Donald " was none the less Prince Charlie's man, for Glengarry was himself the devoted adherent, through thick and thin, of Charles Edward Stuart. I am reminded, by my patriotic countryman's spirited words, of the following incident related in Sage's Memorabilia Doneestica:— " 01(1 Dr. Rainy was in Paris as a youth when Napoleon escaped from Elba. One day the door of his room was thrown open, and his landlady rushed in. ` Have you heard the news?' she cried. ' What news?' The Emperor is coming! ' Rainy looked at her, end then said quietly: `Well, you know what he will do. There is your boy. He'll take him and send him oft to the war. Perhaps your boy will be killed. That's what the Emperor will do.' The woman answered him with a burst of passionate feeling, And though I had ten sons, I would give them to the Emperor.' " This was Dr. Harry Rainy, Professor of Materia Medico, Glasgow University, father of the well-known Principal Rainy. I saw him frequently in the College quadrangle in the early "seventies," a little spare figure, very alert-looking and quick-stepping, his " lyart haffets," long grey locks, floating on the wind. He electrified his students one morning about this time, beginning his lecture with the words: " When I was a student in the University of Paris in the year 1810! "
Of Mrs. Elizabeth Welsh, daughter of John Knox and wife of John Welsh, minister of Ayr, from whom descended Jane Welsh Carlyle, it is told that she pleaded with King James VI. to permit her banished husband, in declining health, to return and breathe the air of the Scottish hills. " He may if he will conform," was the reply. Lifting up the corners of her apron, the Reformer's daughter flashed out, " I will sooner kep (catch) his head there." This heroic spirit lives on, and " the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world."—I am, Sir, &c., D. J. M.
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