repeatedly, Perhaps there was no view that he enjoyed more than that from Bemerside Hill, and he loved to tell that on Scott’s funeral day his favorite horse, led riderless in the procession, stopped just where the magnificent prospect burst upon the view, showing what its master’s habit had been. His knowledge of and love for poetry were very great, and he seemed to have an appropriate quotation for every scene. In Melrose Abbey he was greatly impressed with an inscription on an old tombstone, and he often quoted it in after years:
“Earth walks on the earth glittering with gold,
Earth goes to the earth sooner than it wold,
Earth builds on the earth castles and towers,
Earth says to the earth, ‘All shall be ours.’ ”
At another time he was much struck by an inscription on an old sun-dial;
“I’m a shadow,—so art thou.
I mark time,—dost thou?”
With one of his sons he at this time made quite an extensive tour in the Highlands, a trip which was always a vivid memory to the boy. He said long afterwards, that no one could know what his father was as a traveller until he had him off entirely by himself, with no baggage but what could be carried in the hand, and no care to burden him. On one occasion they travelled all day on the stage-coach going to Inverness, and on the box-seat sat a stout gentleman with a Scotch cap pulled down over his eyes. The next day this same gentleman came up to them on the Caledonian Canal boat, and saluted Mr. Carter with a hearty greeting. It was Dr. Norman Macleod. “Why, father,” said the boy, “this gentleman rode with us on the stage-
