ed the social side of him forever. Nearly fifty years after he
said to one of his few friends:--

"All my naturally buoyant, youthful spirits were broken. To this day I
feel the effects. I cannot shake them off. It is this that still makes
me shrink from the world."

At thirteen he escaped from a home blighted by this woman, and went
apprentice to a baker; and when he was out of his time served as a
journeyman for three years; then set up a small business for himself in
Thurso. It was a very small business indeed; for at that day bread was a
luxury which many people of Caithness only allowed themselves on
Sundays; their usual fare being oatmeal. He was a baker all the days of
his life, and his business never increased so as to oblige him to employ
even a baker's boy. He made his bread, his biscuit, and his gingerbread
without any assistance, and when it was done, it was sold in his little
shop by an old housekeeper, who lived with him till he died.

The usual course of his day was this: He was up in the morning very
early, at any time from three to six, according to his plans for the
after part of the day. He kneaded his bread, worked the dough into
loaves, put the whole into the oven, waited till it was baked, and drew
it out. His work was then usually done for the day. The old housekeeper
sold it as it was called for, and, in case her master did not get home
in time, she could set the sponge in the evening. Usually, he could get
away from the bake-shop soon after the middle of the day, and he had
then all the afternoon, the evening, and the night for studying nature
in Caithness. His profits were small, but his wants were few, and during
the greater part of his life he was able to spare a small sum per annum
for the purchase of books.

If this man had enjoyed the opportunities he would have had but for his
mother's death, he might have been one of the greatest naturalists that
ever lived. Nature had given him every requisite: a frame of iron,
Scotch endurance, a poet's enthusiasm, the instinct of not believing
anything in science till he was _sure_ of it, till he had put it to the
test of repeated observation and experiment. Although a great reader, he
derived most of his knowledge directly from nature's self. He began by
merely picking up shells, as a child picks them up, because they were
pretty; until, while still a lad, he had a very complete collection all
nicely arranged in a cabinet and labeled. Youth being