Whittier has celebrated this incident in his beautiful ballad, called “Barclay of Ury.”  The son of this Barclay was the author of that Apology which bears his name, and is still a standard work among the Friends.  The estate is still possessed by his descendants.

A little farther along towards Aberdeen, Mr. S. seemed to amuse himself very much with the idea, that we were coming near to Dugald Dalgetty’s estate of Drumthwacket, an historical remembrance which I take to be somewhat apocryphal.

It was towards the close of the afternoon that we found ourselves crossing the Dee, in view of Aberdeen.  My spirits were wonderfully elated:  the grand sea scenery and fine bracing air; the noble, distant view of the city, rising with its harbor and shipping, all filled me with delight.  Besides which the Dee had been enchanted for me from my childhood, by a wild old ballad which I used to hear sung to a Scottish tune, equally wild and pathetic.  I repeated it to C——­, and will now to you.

  “The moon had climbed the highest hill
    That rises o’er the banks of Dee,
  And from her farthest summit poured
    Her silver light o’er tower and tree,—­

  When Mary laid her down to sleep,
    Her thoughts on Sandy far at sea,
  And soft and low a voice she heard,
    Saying, ‘Mary, weep no more for me.’

  She from her pillow gently raised
    Her head, to see who there might be;
  She saw young Sandy shivering stand,
    With pallid cheek and hollow ee.

  ’O Mary dear, cold is my clay;
    It lies beneath the stormy sea;
  The storm, is past, and I’m at rest;
    So, Mary, weep no more for me.’

  Loud crew the cock; the vision fled;
    No more young Sandy could she see;
  But soft a parting whisper said,
    ‘Sweet Mary, weep no more for me.’”

I never saw these lines in print any where; I never knew who wrote them; I had only heard them sung at the fireside when a child, to a tune as dreamy and sweet as themselves; but they rose upon me like an enchantment, as I crossed the Dee, in view of that very German Ocean, famed for its storms and shipwrecks.

In this propitious state, disposed to be pleased with every thing, our hearts responded warmly to the greetings of the many friends who were waiting for us at the station house.

The lord provost received us into his carriage, and as we drove along, pointed out to us the various objects of interest in the beautiful town.  Among other things, a fine old bridge across the Dee attracted our particular attention.

We were conducted to the house of Mr. Cruikshank, a Friend, and found waiting for us there the thoughtful hospitality which we had ever experienced in all our stopping-places.  A snug little quiet supper was laid out upon the table, of which we partook in haste, as we were informed that the assembly at the hall were waiting to receive us.