t, however much he may have sorrowed in silence, among us he was
ever cheerful and even gay. Perhaps, on the whole, it may seem to some
that I write or speak in terms too eulogistic. But it should not be
forgotten that the M'Crimman was my father, and that he is--gone. _De
mortuis nil nisi bonum._

The ex-chief of Coila was a gentleman. And what a deal there is in that
one wee word! No one can ape the gentleman. True gentlemanliness must
come from the heart; the heart is the well from which it must
spring--constantly, always, in every position of life, and wherever the
owner may be. No amount of exterior polish can make a true gentleman.
The actor can play the part on the stage, but here he is but acting, after
all. Off the stage he may or may not be the gentleman, for then he must
not be judged by his dress, by his demeanour in company, his calmness, or
his ducal bow, but by his actions, his words, or his spoken thoughts.

'Chesterfields and modes and rules
For polished age and stilted youth.
And high breeding's choicest school
Need to learn this deeper truth:
That to act, whate'er betide,
Nobly on the Christian plan,
This is still the surest guide
How to be a gentleman.'

About a year after our arrival in Edinburgh, Townley was seated one day
midway up the beautiful mountain called Arthur's Seat. It was early
summer; the sky was blue and almost cloudless; far beneath, the city of
palaces and monuments seemed to sleep in the sunshine; away to the east
lay the sea, blue even as the sky itself, except where here and there a
cloud shadow passed slowly over its surface. Studded, too, was the sea
with many a white sail, and steamers with trailing wreaths of smoke.

The noise of city life, faint and far, fell on the ear with a hum hardly
louder than the murmur of the insects and bees that sported among the wild
flowers.

Townley would not have been sitting here had he been all by himself, for
this Herculean young parson never yet set eye on a hill he meant to climb
without going straight to the top of it.

'There is no tiring Townley.' I have often heard father make that remark;
and, indeed, it gave in a few words a complete clue to Townley's
character.

But to-day my aunt Cecilia was with him, and it was on her account he was
resting. They had been sitting for some time in