ity of a local committee of management in Scotland.
The Institution had a great membership in England, and was generously
helped there in the matter of funds by the public. The subscription
payable by members was small, and the benefits it bestowed were
substantial; but railway men in Scotland looked at it askance: "the Board
in London kenned little aboot Scotland and Scotch claims wouldna get vera
much conseederation." Well, all this was changed by what we did. Soon a
numerous membership succeeded to the few who on Scottish railways had
previously joined the Institution, and we had much satisfaction in
finding that we were able to dispense substantial aid to many old and
needy railwaymen and to their widows and orphans. Mr. Wainwright
remained Chairman of the Branch till his death, and I continued Secretary
until I left Scotland.

In 1883, after my return from Paris, I grew restless again, with a
longing for more responsibility and a larger and freer life; with,
perhaps, an admixture of something not so ennobling--the desire for a
bigger income. Never was I indifferent to the comforts that money can
bring, though never, I must confess, was I gifted with the capacity for
money making or money saving. The pleasures of life (the rational
pleasures I hope) had always an attraction for me. I could never forego
them, or forego the expense they involved, for the sake of future distant
advantages. What weighed with me, too, was the fact that I was
undoubtedly overworked and my health was suffering. It was not that my
railway duties proper were oppressive, but the duties as Secretary of the
Railway Benevolent Institution in Scotland added considerably to my
office hours, and at home I often worked far into the night writing for
the several papers to which I contributed. Too much work and too little
play was making Jack a very dull boy. I envied those officers, such as
John Mathieson, whose duties took them often out of doors, and gave them
the control and management of men.

My chief was as kind and considerate as ever, and I confided to him the
thoughts that disturbed me. Warm-heartedly he sympathised with my
feelings. He himself had gone, he said, through the same experience some
twenty years before. The prospect of promotion at St. Enoch, he agreed,
seemed remote; the principal officers, except the engineer, were young or
middle-aged; and he himself was in the prime of life. He did not want to
lose me, but I