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@asls.org.ukOct 10, 2026, 1:41 PM

“𝘔𝘺 𝘚𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 is […] a rare and remarkably insightful book. It is a book in which boyhood is examined and displayed with all the attention Miller devoted to his geological specimens”

—David Alston: Hugh Miller & the Crucible of Childhood
#C19
www.thebottleimp.org.uk/2023/07/hugh...

@asls.org.ukOct 10, 2026, 1:41 PM

…the tar which used to boil in it to the heat, like resin in a fagot of moss-fir, was as strange a mixture as ever yet bubbled in witches’ caldron—blood of pterodactyle & grease of ichthyosaur…

—Hugh Miller, MY SCHOOLS & SCHOOLMASTERS (1854) – also on @gutenberg.org
#C19
gutenberg.org/ebooks/30737

Immediately beyond the granitic gneiss of the hill there is a subaqueous deposit of the Lias formation, never yet explored by geologist, because never yet laid bare by the ebb; though every heavier storm from the sea tells of its existence, by tossing ashore fragments of its dark bituminous shale. I soon ascertained that the shale is so largely charged with inflammable matter as to burn with a strong flame, as if steeped in tar or oil, and that I could repeat with it the common experiment of producing gas by means of a tobacco-pipe luted with clay. And, having read in Shakspere of a fuel termed "sea-coal," and unaware at the time that the poet merely meant coal brought to London by sea, I inferred that the inflammable shale cast up from the depths of the Firth by the waves could not be other than the veritable "sea-coal" which figured in the reminiscences of Dame Quickly; and so, assisted by Finlay, who shared in the interest which I felt in the substance, as at once classical and an original discovery, I used to collect it in large quantities and convert it into smoky and troubled fires, that ever filled our cavern with a horrible stench, and scented all the shore. Though unaware of the fact at the time, it owed its inflammability, not to vegetable, but to animal substance; the tar which used to boil in it to the heat, like resin in a fagot of moss-fir, was as strange a mixture as ever yet bubbled in witches' caldron—blood of pterodactyle and grease of ichthyosaur—eye of belemnite and hood of nautilus; and we learned to delight in its very smell, all oppressive as that was, as something wild, strange, and inexplicable. Once or twice I seemed on the eve of a discovery: in splitting the masses, I occasionally saw what appeared to be fragments of shells embedded in its substance; and at least once I laid open a mysterious-looking scroll or volute, existing on the dark surface as a cream-coloured film; but though these organisms raised a temporary wonder …
@asls.org.ukOct 10, 2026, 1:41 PM

I picked up a nodular mass of blue limestone, and laid it open by a stroke of the hammer. Wonderful to relate, it contained inside a beautifully finished piece of sculpture…

—Hugh Miller, THE OLD RED SANDSTONE (1841)
available as a free ebook on @gutenberg.org
#C19
gutenberg.org/ebooks/63923

In the course of the first day's employment, I picked up a nodular mass of blue limestone, and laid it open by a stroke of the hammer. Wonderful to relate, it contained inside a beautifully finished piece of sculpture—one of the volutes apparently of an Ionic capital; and not the far-famed walnut of the fairy tale, had I broken the shell and found the little dog lying within, could have surprised me more. Was there another such curiosity in the whole world? I broke open a few other nodules of similar appearance,—for they lay pretty thickly on the shore,—and found that there might. In one of these there were what seemed to be the scales of fishes, and the impressions of a few minute bivalves, prettily striated; in the centre of another there was actually a piece of decayed wood. Of all Nature's riddles these seemed to me to be at once the most interesting, and the most difficult to expound. I treasured them carefully up, and was told by one of the workmen to whom I showed them, that there was a part of the shore about two miles farther to the west, where curiously shaped stones, somewhat like the heads of boarding-pikes, were occasionally picked up; and that in his father's days the country people called them thunderbolts, and deemed them of sovereign efficacy in curing bewitched cattle. Our employer, on quitting the quarry for the building on which we were to be engaged, gave all the workmen a half-holiday. I employed it in visiting the place where the thunderbolts had fallen so thickly, and found it a richer scene of wonder than I could have fancied in even my dreams.
@asls.org.ukOct 8, 2026, 3:43 PM

Trees, Rivers, & Stories: Walter Scott & the Land

A talk by Prof Susan Oliver to the Edinburgh Sir Walter Scott Club from 2016
#romanticism #C19
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEy0...

@asls.org.ukOct 8, 2026, 3:43 PM

Walter Scott country

Martha Kearney looks at how Scott’s writing explored Scotland’s environmental history & ecology. Scott’s love of nature is expressed not only in the landscapes of his novels, but also in his personal passion for tree planting
#C19 #romanticism
www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m...

@norwayskandinavien.bsky.socialOct 6, 2026, 5:55 PM

1/ #LuftHygiene #CleanAir #SaubereLuft #CovidIsAirborne #CovidIsntOver #Grippe #C19 #SARSCoV2 #H5N1 #MaskUp #MaskeAuf #TragtMaske #LuftuebertrageneViren #Airgoclean #HEPAFilter #HEPA13 #HEPA13Filter

Demnächst beginnen wieder die #Herbstferien und damit auch

Foto: Drei Verschiedene mobile Luftreiniger auf einem Tisch.Foto: Drei verschiedene Masken mit wechselbaren Filtern.Ein Luftreiniger in einer Kabine von einer Fähre.
@norwayskandinavien.bsky.socialOct 6, 2026, 2:31 PM

#Hygiene #Viren #CleanAir #TragtMaske #DieMaskeBleibtAuf #MaskUp #TeamVorsicht #C19 #RSV #Grippe #SaubereLuft #LuftÜbertrageneViren #SARSCoV2 #MaskenSchützen

1/ Im Urlaub löste sich bei meiner zweiten #EnvoMask das Gelkissen, zum Glück hatte ich eine 2. Envo mit dabei gehabt.

@asls.org.ukOct 3, 2026, 4:29 PM

“This is the biography of an extraordinary family, an impossible sea & an engineering miracle”

Bella Bathurst’s THE LIGHTHOUSE STEVENSONS tells the story of RLS’s ancestors – 4 generations who designed & built the great lights around Scotland
#C19 #engineering
bellabathurst.com/books/the-li...

@asls.org.ukOct 3, 2026, 4:29 PM

Say not of me that weakly I declined
The labours of my sires, and fled the sea,
The towers we founded and the lamps we lit…

—Robert Louis Stevenson’s apologia for deserting the family trade of lighthouse-building & taking up the pen, instead
#C19 #poem #poetry #engineering

“Say not of me that weakly I declined” Robert Louis Stevenson Say not of me that weakly I declined The labours of my sires, and fled the sea, The towers we founded and the lamps we lit, To play at home with paper like a child. But rather say: In the afternoon of time A strenuous family dusted from its hands The sand of granite, and beholding far Along the sounding coast its pyramids And tall memorials catch the dying sun, Smiled well content, and to this childish task Around the fire addressed its evening hours.
@asls.org.ukOct 3, 2026, 4:29 PM

“I have often thought that to find a family to compare with ours in the promise of immortal memory, we must go back to the Egyptian Pharaohs…”

—From RLS’s MEMOIRS OF HIMSELF (privately published, Philadelphia 1912) – online via the @hathitrust.bsky.social
#C19
babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=lo...

[…] rose out of obscurity in a clap. My father and Uncle David made the third generation, one Smith and two Stevenson, of direct descendants who had been engineers to the Board of Northern Lights; there is scarce a deep sea light from the Isle of Man north about to Berwick, but one of my blood designed it; and I have often thought that to find a family to compare with ours in the promise of immortal memory, we must go back to the Egyptian Pharaohs: upon so many reefs and forelands that not very elegant name of Stevenson is engraved with a pen of iron upon granite. My name is well known as that of the Duke of Argyle among the fishers, the skippers, the seamen and the masons of my native land. Whenever I smell salt water, I know I am not far from one of the works of my ancestors. The Bell Rock stands monument for my grandfather; the Skerry Vohr for my Uncle Alan; and when the lights come out at sundown along the shores of Scotland, I am proud to think they burn more brightly for the genius of my father.
@asls.org.ukOct 3, 2026, 4:29 PM

“When the lights come out at sundown along the shores of Scotland, I am proud to think they burn more brightly for the genius of my father”
—Robert Louis Stevenson, MEMOIRS OF HIMSELF

Thomas Stevenson (1818–1887), lighthouse engineer & Robert Louis Stevenson’s father
#C19 #engineering

Sepia photograph of Thomas Stevenson – a pensive-looking head-and-shoulders portrait of a Victorian gentleman, balding, clean-shaven with side-whiskers almost to the tip of his chin, his left hand raised to touch his face. A ring is visible on the pinkie of his left hand.
@asls.org.ukOct 3, 2026, 4:29 PM

Keepers of the Light
Currently on BBC Sounds

For generations, the Stevensons built lighthouses around Scotland. Robert Louis was expected to do the same – but chose to write instead. Keepers of the Light explores the uneasy boundary between #art & #engineering
#C19
www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m...

@asls.org.ukOct 3, 2026, 9:12 AM

“…the TRAINSPOTTING of its day… an angry young man’s response to the misrepresentation of contemporary Scottish life”

George Douglas Brown (1869–1902) is best known for THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS (1901), set in #C19 Ayrshire
#BookWormSat #Booksky 💙📚
www.thebottleimp.org.uk/2022/05/rura...

@asls.org.ukSep 30, 2026, 10:49 AM

“Ten Thousand Years in Ice” is an early #scifi short story by Robert Duncan Milne (1844–99) where a man frozen in the ancient past is revived in the present. Milne’s documentary style led readers of a Hungarian newspaper to believe it was true
#WyrdWednesday #C19
theconversation.com/remembering-...

@asls.org.ukSep 28, 2026, 6:48 PM

“What truly disturbs in ‘Olalla’ is not the heroine […] It is the profoundly vampiric bond she forms with the hero – & the doubts it raises about his own precarious sanity”

—“Olalla”: Robert Louis Stevenson’s artful & ambiguous vampire novella
#C19 #gothic
www.thebottleimp.org.uk/2012/11/temp...

@fiwek-uty.social.y-gallery.net.ap.brid.gySep 26, 2026, 2:33 PM

Zacytujmy klasyka: "Maseczki nie pomagają." Tak, a wręcz szkodzą! I to jak! To powolna droga do grobu. ZAPAMIĘTAĆ! #c19

@asls.org.ukSep 26, 2026, 12:53 PM

“I should here explain, that the witches, when they take the shape of hares, charm away the power of pouther and lead; so that unless the gun be loaded with silver, it will not go off, or, if it does go off, it will not kill…”

—John Galt, THE STEAM-BOAT (1821)
#BookWormSat #C19

"Your Majesty has belike heard that there are certain mystical women in the world called witches. In the shire of Renfrew, we have had, both in time past and at present, no small trouble with their pranks, and it is as thoroughly believed among the country folk as the gospel, that the witches are in the practice of gallanting over field and flood after sun-set, in the shape of cats and mawkins, to dance the La Volta, with a certain potentate that I shall not offend your Majesty by naming. "I should here explain, that the witches, when they take the shape of hares, charm away the power of pouther and lead; so that unless the gun be loaded with silver, it will not go off, or, if it does go off, it will not kill, especially in the hands of a young sportsman; and that the best antidote to their charm, is for the sportsman, when he is an experienced hand, to put a pair of silver sleeve-buttons in his fowling-piece. When he does this, and fires with effect, it is said, and the fact is often well attested, the hare will never be seen again; […][…] but beyond the next hedge, some dubious carlin will, in all human probability, be found riddled in the hips, saying her prayers backwards. What I have to tell is an undoubted proof of this, for it happened to myself in the presence of the late Logan of that ilk, a man of singular piety, and one of the best shots in the shire of Ayr. "Being staying with him, we one day went out to shoot. It was in the afternoon. We started nothing, and we staid late, not very content, as your Majesty may well think, with such profitless sport. But I trow we have both had cause to remember long that afternoon; for in the gloaming, as we were coursing with our dejected dogs, the which were as disappointed as ourselves, we start-ed, as we thought, a hare out of a whin bush. It ran before us, in every gesture, lith, and limb, just like a hare, and the dogs pursued it as if it had been nothing less natural. We followed, never doubting that it was a hare. "A fine har'st evening had set in, and the new moon, the sickle of Time, betokened, in the west. ern heavens, that Nature was binding up the sheaves of our days; but, nevertheless, we followed our game, never suspecting that it was any […]
@musiqo.mstdn.social.ap.brid.gySep 25, 2026, 10:33 PM

🇦🇺 Nie zapominajmy, że australijska policja, w swoim szaleństwie, sprawdzała kubki z kawą, aby upewnić się, że ludzie mają uzasadnienie, by zdejmować maski podczas picia kawy w czasie #c19 . To była absurdalna sytuacja.

@asls.org.ukSep 25, 2026, 1:32 PM

While he was yet a student, there came to him a dream-adventure which he has no anxiety to repeat; he began, that is to say, to dream in sequence and thus to lead a double life…

—Robert Louis Stevenson’s “A Chapter on Dreams”, via @gutenberg.org
#C19 #WorldDreamDay
www.gutenberg.org/files/30990/...

Well, in his dream-life he passed a long day in the surgical theatre, his heart in his mouth, his teeth on edge, seeing monstrous malformations and the abhorred dexterity of surgeons. In a heavy, rainy, foggy evening he came forth into the South Bridge, turned up the High Street, and entered the door of a tall land, at the top of which he supposed himself to lodge. All night long, in his wet clothes, he climbed the stairs, stair after stair in endless series, and at every second flight a flaring lamp with a reflector. All night long he brushed by single persons passing downward—beggarly women of the street, great, weary, muddy labourers, poor scarecrows of men, pale parodies of women—but all drowsy and weary like himself, and all single, and all brushing against him as they passed. In the end, out of a northern window, he would see day beginning to whiten over the Firth, give up the ascent, turn to descend, and in a breath be back again upon the streets, in his wet clothes …
@asls.org.ukSep 25, 2026, 1:32 PM

“Stevenson relates examples of vivid dreams at length, as illustrations of this detailed, indigenous creation of narrative material, but also as a pathology which leads to the reification of such dream residuum in the Strange Case of Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde…”
#C19
www.thebottleimp.org.uk/2018/07/that...

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