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 Here is the late Cardinal Newman—a precious reminiscence of the day when he was created Cardinal, at which ceremony Professor Blackie was present. Here again are Gladstone, John Morley, the late Count von Moltke, the German Emperor, Sir John Millais—every one autographed. Here, too, is an excellent portrait of Browning, with an inscription on the back—"This testifies that I have spent a delightful morning through the goodness of dear Blackie. May the pleasure be conferred on me at no distant time. May, 1885." Here is a portrait of Miss Mary Anderson. Fifteen years ago the Professor wrote to Miss Jennie Lee that "the stage had more influence than the pulpit"—hence many theatrical reminiscences are visible about the house. Look in this small volume, and you will find a couple of New Year's cards from Henry Irving. A small album on a table close at hand is highly valued by its owner. It contains simple cartes de visite of some of the most eminent men of the century. The first place is given to the late Cardinal Manning—he has penned his autographand—then in quick succession come the features and signatures of such men as Sir David Brewster, Sir J. Noel Paton—with a child on his shoulders, a little one who is now Dr. Noel Paton, the physiologist—the late Dean Ramsay, Dr. Guthrie, Sir J. Y. Simpson—who discovered chloroform—Norman McLeod, the Duke of Argyll, Lord Shaftesbury, Professor Faraday, John Bright, and Charles Kingsley. There are a number of pictures of the Professor himself; two just at the far end of the room are productions of the old black-paper-and-scissors process, and very cleverly are they cut.

On a small easel stands a medallion, in a plush frame, by Mrs. D. O. Hill, a sister of Sir Noel Paton, who executed the Livingstone statue in Prince's-street. Many are the portraits of cats and dogs, for Mrs. Blackie is very fond of these domestic pets. An excellent picture of Goethe, at the age of thirty, is pointed out to me. The room, too, is rich in old china, some of which belonged to Wordsworth and Lord Byron.

A bowl, once the property of the late Dr. Chalmers, stands on a cabinet near the door. This little rosewood receptacle contains a wealth of interest. It has on its shelves a copy of every work which the Professor has written. As each new work is issued so it is added. The cabinet is called "The Shrine." Amongst the water-colour paintings is a small text painted in the midst of autumn leaves and blackberries. It is only a simple effort, and does not measure six inches square. Yet when Ruskin saw it he exclaimed, "That's the finest picture in Edinburgh."

"Yet," said Professor Blackie, as we crossed to the window and looked out upon the Corstorphine Hill, with its grand fir trees, and strained our eyes to catch a view of the distant hills of Fife—"yet Ruskin, who was a man of deep and intense feelings, would lift you up in delightful imagination as easily as he would drop you again to the ordinary level of life. Ruskin was a small edition of Carlyle—but he was a delicate and dainty edition. I will talk of Carlyle by and by. Well, some forty years ago, I was walking with Ruskin down Prince's-