276 COLD AND WHISKY. CHAP. xin. 



Lying out at night cannot be long endured in this 

 country. It is not the cold, so much as the damp, 

 that rheumatises the muscles and chills the bones. 

 When going out at night, Edward was often advised 

 to take whisky with him. He was told that if he 

 would drink it when he got wet or cold, it would re- 

 fresh and sustain him, and otherwise do him a great 

 deal of good. Those who knew of his night- wanderings, 

 wondered how he could ever have endured the night air 

 and been kept alive without the liberal use of whisky. 

 But Edward always refused. He never took a drop 

 of whisky with him, indeed, he never drank it 

 either at home or abroad. "I believe," he says, 

 " that if I had indulged in drink, or even had I used 

 it at all on these occasions, I could never have 

 stood the cold, the wet, and the other privations to 

 which I was exposed. As for my food, it mainly con- 

 sisted of good oatmeal cakes. It tasted very sweet, 

 and was washed down with water from the nearest 

 spring. Sometimes, when I could afford it, my wife 

 boiled an egg or two, and these were my only luxuries. 

 But, as I have already said, water was my only drink." 

 In 1858, Edward had reached his forty-fourth year. 

 At this age, men who have been kindly reared and 

 fairly fed, are usually in their prime, both of mind 

 and body. But Edward had used himself very hardly ; 

 he had spent so many of his nights out of doors, 

 in the cold and the wet ; he had been so tumbled 

 about amongst the rocks ; he had so often, with 



