At the village of Helensburgh we stopped a little while to call upon
Mrs. Bell, the wife of Mr. Bell, the inventor of the steamboat. His
invention in this country was at about the same time as that of Fulton
in America. Mrs. Bell came to the carriage to speak to us. She is a
venerable woman, far advanced in years. They had prepared a lunch for
us, and quite a number of people had come together to meet us, but our
friends said there was not time for us to stop.
We rode through several villages after this, and met everywhere a warm
welcome. What pleased me was, that it was not mainly from the
literary, nor the rich, nor the great, but the plain, common people.
The butcher came out of his stall and the baker from his shop, the
miller dusty with flour, the blooming, comely young mother, with her
baby in her arms, all smiling and bowing, with that hearty,
intelligent, friendly look, as if they knew we should be glad to see
them.
Once, while we stopped to change horses, I, for the sake of seeing
something more of the country, walked on. It seems the honest landlord
and his wife were greatly disappointed at this; however, they got into
the carriage and rode on to see me, and I shook hands with them with a
right good will.
We saw several of the clergymen, who came out to meet us; and I
remember stopping just to be introduced, one by one, to a most
delightful family, a gray-headed father and mother, with comely
brothers and fair sisters, all looking so kindly and homelike, that I
should have been glad to accept the invitation they gave me to their
dwelling.
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