Queen Spcet.1 PROFESSOR WILSONS MOTHER. I < <
He died of disease of the heart at 52, Queen
Street, on the 6th May, 1870, and never was man
more lamented by all ranks and classes of society ;
and nothing in life so became him, as the calmness
and courage with which he left it.
His own great skill had taught him that from
the first his recovery was doubtful, and in speaking
of a possibly fatal issue, his principal reason for
desiring life was that he hoped, if it were God?s
will, that he might have been spared to do a little
more service in the cause of hospitak reform ; all
his plsns and prospects were limited by this reference
to t!ie Divine will.
?If God takes me to-night,? said he to a friend,
? I feel that I am resting on Christ with the simple
faith of a child.? And in this faith he passed
away.
His funeral was a great and solemn ovation
indeed ; and never since Thomas Chatmers was laid
in his grave had Edinburgh witnessed such a scene
as that exhibifed in Queen Streqt on the 13th May.
From the most distant shires, even of the Highlands
aed the northern counties of England, and
from London, people came to pay their last tribute
to him whom one of the London dailies emphatically
styled ?the grand old Scottish doctor.?
St. Luke?s Free Church, near his house, was made
the meeting place of the general public. In front
of the funeral car were the Senatus Academicus,
headed by the principal, Sir Alexander Grant of
Dalvey, and the Royal College of Physicians, all
in academic costume; the magistrates, with all
their official robes and insignia; all the literary,
scientific, legal, and commercial bodies in the city
sent their quota of representatives, which, together
with the High Constables and students, made altogether
1,700 men in deep mourning.
The day was warm and bright, and vast crowds
thronged every street from his house to the grave
on the southern slope of Wnrriston cemetery, and
on every side were heard ever and anon the
lamentations of the poor, while most of the shops
were closed, and the bells of the churches tolled.
The spectators were estimated at IOO,OOO, and
the most intense decorum prevailed. An idea of
the length of the procession may be gathered from
the fact that, although it consisted of men marching
in sections of fours, it took upwards of. thirty-three
minutes to pass a certain point.
A grave was offered in Westminster, but declined
DY his family, who wished to have him buried
among themselves. A white marble bust of him
by Brodie was, however, placed there in 1879.
NO. 53 Queen Street, the house adjoining that
of Sir James, was the residence of Mrs. Wilson,
mother of Professor John Wilson, widow of a
wealthy gauze manufacturer. Her maiden name
was Margaret Sym, and her brother Robert figures
in the Noctes Ambrosiamz, under the cognomen of
I? Timothy Tickler.? Wilson?s Memoirs ? contain
many of his own letters, datedfrom thke, after r806
till his removal to Anne Street. There he wrote his
I? Isle of Palms,? prior to his marriage with Miss
Jane Penny in May, I 8 I I, and there, with his young
wife and her sisters, he was resident with the old
lady at the subsequent Christmas. His father
left him an unencumbered fortune of ~ 5 0 , 0 0 0 ,
which had enabled him to cut a good figure at
Oxford.
?A little glimpse of the life at 53 Queen Street,
and the pleasant footing subsisting between the
relatives gathered there, is afforded in a note of
young Mrs. Wilson about this time to a sisterYm
says Mrs. Gordon. ?She thanks ?Peg? for her
note, which, she says, ?was sacred to myself. It is
not my custom, you may tell her, to show my
letters to John.? She goes on to speak of Edinburgh
society, dinners, and evening parties, and
whom she most likes. The Rev. Mr. Morehead is
Mr. Jeffrey is ? a homd little
man,? but ? held in as high estimation here as the
Bible.? Mrs. Wilson senior gives a ball, and 150
people are invited. ? The girls are looking forward
to it with great delight. Mrs. Wilson is very nice
with them, and lets them ask anybody they like.
There is not the least restraint put upon them.
John?s poems will be sent from here next week.
The large size is a guinea, and the small one
twelve shillings.? ?
Elsewhere we are told that John Wilson?s
? home was in Edinburgh. His mother received
him into her house, where he resided till 1819.?
She was a lady whose domestic management
was the wonder and admiration of all zealous
housekeepers. Under one roof, in 53 Queen
Street, she contrived to accommodate three distinct
families; and there, besides the generosity exercised
towards her own, she was hospitable to all, and
her chanty to the poor was unbounded ; and when
she died, ?it was, as it were, the extinction of a
bright particular star, nor can any one who ever
saw her altogether forget the effect of her presence.
She belonged to that old school of Scottish ladies
whose refinement and intellect never interfered
with duties the most humble.?
In those days in Edinburgh the system of a
household neither sought nor suggested a number
of servants ; thus many domestic duties devolved
upon the lady herself: for example, the china
-usually a rare set-after breakfast and tea, was
a great favourite
