890 MEMOIR OF JOHN WILSON. 



sagacity emboldened his bounding beauty, and a fierceness lay deep 

 down within the quiet lustre o' his een that tauld you, even when 

 he laid his head upon your knees, and smiled up to your face like a 

 verra intellectual and moral creature — as he was — that had he been 

 angered, he could have torn in pieces a lion."* He was brave and 

 gentle in disposition, and we all loved him, but he was my father's 

 peculiar property, of which he was, by the way, quite aware ; he 

 evinced for him a constancy that gamed in return the confidence 

 and affection of his master. Every day for several years did Bronte 

 walk by his side to and from the College, where he was soon as 

 well known as the Professor himself. This fine dosr came to an un- 

 timely end. There was good reason to believe that he had been 

 poisoned by some members of Dr. Knox's class, in revenge for the 

 remarks made by my father on the Burke and Hare murders.f I 

 remember the morning we missed Bronte from the breakfast-room, 

 a half-formed presentiment told us that something was wrong ; we 

 called, but no bounding step answered the summons. I went to 

 look for him in the schoolroom, and there he lay lifeless. I could 

 not believe it, and touched him gently with my foot ; he did not 

 move. I bent down and laid my hand on his head, but it was cold ; 

 poor Bronte was dead! "No bark like his now belongs to the 

 world of sound ;" and so passed Bronte " to the land of hereafter." 

 It was some time ere he found a successor ; but there was no living 

 without dogs, and the next was Hover, of whom I have already 

 spoken. 



The house in Gloucester Place was a rendezvous for all kinds of 

 dogs. My father's kindliness of nature made him open his house 

 for his four-footed friends, who were too numerous to describe. 

 There was Professor Jameson's Neptune, a Newfoundland dog, 

 Mrs. Rutherfurd's Juba, a pet spaniel, and Wasp, a Dandy Din- 

 mont, belonging to Lord Rutherford, who were constant visitors ; 

 but the most notorious sorner of the whole party was Tory, brother 

 to Fang, both sons of Mr. Blackwood's famous dog, Tickler. Tory 

 paid his visits with the cool assurance of a man of the world, the 

 agreeableness of whose society was not to be questioned for a mo- 

 ment ; he remained as long as he wished, was civil and good-hu- 

 mored to every one, but, as a matter of course, selected the master 

 of the house as his chief companion, walked with him, and patron- 



* Nodes Ambro&ianm. t Ibid. 



