Saw its ruins, grim and old, And its bastions, bathed in gold, Rifted crag and snowy beach, Where the sea-gulls swoop and screech, Vanish, and the shadows fall, To the lonely curlew’s call. Fading in the sunset smile-- Thus I left the Holy Isle. III. “As Columba, old and ill, Mounted on the sacred hill, Raising hands of faith and prayer, Breathed his benediction there-- Stricken with its solemn grace-- Thus my spirit blessed the place: O’er it while the ages range, Time be blind and work no change! On its plenty be increase! On its homes perpetual peace! While around its lonely shore Wild winds rave and breakers roar, Round its blazing hearths be blent Virtue, comfort, and content! On its beauty, passing all, Ne’er may blight nor shadow fall! Ne’er may vandal foot intrude On its sacred solitude! May its ancient fame remain Glorious, and without a stain; And the hope that ne’er departs, Live within its loving hearts! IV. “Slowly fades the sunset light, Slowly round me falls the night. Gone the Isle, and distant far All its loves and glories are: Yet forever, in my mind, Still will sigh the wandering wind, And the music of the seas, ’Mid the lonely Hebrides.” (Very great applause.) Later in the evening Dr. Watson declared that Mr. Winter’s speech was the most beautiful he had ever heard. I offered Dr. Watson $24,000 if he would give me twelve more weeks. I never could understand why he did not go on, excepting that he had promised his people he would come back, and he considered a promise worth more than $24,000--this, too, at the close of the nineteenth century, although many of his parishioners told me afterward that they would have been glad to have had him remain longer if he wished. The doctor had such confidence in human nature that he would believe the very first man he met, a rather amusing instance of which occurred during our visit to Poughkeepsie. We arrived there shortly after noon on the 9th of December, and were met at the station by the editor and owner of a prominent Poughkeepsie paper, with whom Dr. Watson and I were to dine at one o’clock. As we were being driven from the station to his house, our host began entertaining his guest by regretting that he was to have a small audience, because the lecture had not been properly advertised. This reminded me that when I had first announced that Dr. Watson was going to Poughkeepsie, this gentleman had written me asking if I had not better devote some extra space to advertising in his paper, to which I replied that the manager of the Opera House attended to that matter for me, and that whatever he did went. I said to the gentleman, “Is there no interest here?” He said, “None whatever. No advertising has been done.”