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Updated: June 16, 2025
My husband tells me that banks, stone walls and "stone gaps" are the chief fences in Ireland; that hedges are seldom encountered, except in the form of furze on the top of banks; and that he has rarely seen posts and rails in his native land. While enjoying a very pleasant visit last winter with Mr. Arthur Pollok, the Master of the East Galway Hounds, he took the photographs of Figs. 115 to 120.
His mother, Lord Elgin's second wife, was a daughter of Mr. Oswald, of Dunnikier, in Fifeshire. Her deep piety, united with wide reach of mind and varied culture, made her admirably qualified to be the depositary of the ardent thoughts and aspirations of his boyhood; and, as he grew up, he found a second mother in his elder sister, Matilda, who became the wife of Sir John Maxwell, of Pollok.
The two things I had enjoyed in this room were that my sister was with me, and that our windows looked toward the west. When the work was running smoothly, we looked out together and quoted to each other all the sunset-poetry we could remember. Our tastes did not quite agree. Her favorite description of the clouds was from Pollok:
Historian and writer on art, s. of Archibald Stirling of Keir, succeeded to the estates and title of his uncle, Sir John Maxwell of Pollok, as well as to Keir, ed. at Camb., afterwards travelled much. He sat in the House of Commons for Perthshire, which he twice represented, 1852-68 and 1874-80, served on various commissions and public bodies, and was Lord Rector successively of the Univ. of St.
He served the little maid with a benignity quite charming to witness, made an entry on a slate of .08, and resumed the conversation. "Yes, I am sure of it, Cyprian. The very last piece I wrote was copied in two papers. It was 'Contemplations in Autumn, and don't think I am too vain one young lady has told me that it reminded her of Pollok. You never wrote in verse, did you, Cyprian?"
He served the little maid with a benignity quite charming to witness, made an entry on a slate of.08, and resumed the conversation. "Yes, I am sure of it, Cyprian. The very last piece I wrote was copied in two papers. It was 'Contemplations in Autumn, and don't think I am too vain one young lady has told me that it reminded her of Pollok. You never wrote in verse, did you, Cyprian?"
Let us suppose two persons, both equally unknown, putting forth a volume of poems on each side of the Atlantic; decidedly the chances are, that the American candidate for poetic fame will find more readers, and more encouragement in his country, than the British in his. Even bardlings like Pollok enjoy a large number of readers and editions.
Pollok declaimed against the attempt to lay hold of the earth with one hand and heaven with the other. But that is the peculiar feat for which the American is born, to bring together seeing and doing, principle and practice, eternity and to-day. The American is given, they say, to extremes. True, but to both extremes; he belongs to the two antipodes.
I have sent you, by the opportunity of Pollok the courier, who was once my servant, two little parcels of Greek and English books; and shall send you two more by Mr.
It was presented, in a scientific spirit, by the victim, who was 'not a penny the worse, unlike Sir George Maxwell of Pollok, two centuries ago. Though second sight is so firmly rooted in Celtic opinion, the tourist or angler who 'has no Gaelic' is not likely to hear much of it.
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