ct domestic happiness. He found
himself left with three infant daughters; their guide and his gone from
him. He has described his sufferings at this time to the writer as fully
realising to him the common phrase, "a broken heart." As each day
passed, and each night returned, he rose and lay down with the feeling
that his heart was broken. He of course shunned all society, and never
again recovered any real zest for it. He sometimes thought of imitating
his grandfather under like circumstances with a difference--he thought
of flying, not to London, but to the backwoods of America, or some place
where he should never see a white face, and becoming a "wild man," a
savage--a personage of whom he always believed himself to share many of
the characteristics. Only consideration for his little girls deterred
him from such a course. Although an excessively affectionate parent, Dr
Burton had no pleasure in the company of children, owing to his want of
any system with them. He could not, according to the common phrase,
"manage" children at all--a necessary art for any one who has much of
their company. He secured the services of a former governess of his
wife, a Miss Wade, as care-taker of his children; and, as soon as he
could, removed from the house in Royal Crescent to a small one in Castle
Street, and afterwards, from a wish to let his children amuse themselves
with little gardens of their own, to one in Ann Street. He has told the
writer's father, Cosmo Innes, then his most intimate friend, that the
first relief to his oppressed spirits was obtained from the nearest
realisation of the "wild man" life to be found within his own country.
He took long walks in all weathers, sometimes walking all night as well
as all day, at times with a companion, oftener with none. The late
Alexander Russel, then editor of the 'Scotsman,' was his companion in
some of these rambles, Joseph Robertson in others, and Cosmo Innes in
others. It was Mr Russel who accompanied him in the run across Ireland,
which took place about this time, and of which his printed sketch is one
of the liveliest of his minor writings. His pace was so rapid, and his
powers of walking so inexhaustible, that with the lapse of years it
became more and more difficult to find a companion who could keep up
with him. He has described to Mr Innes one particular walk taken alone
to the waterfall called the Grey Mare's Tail. The whole excursion was
performed in pitiless rain and win