The following very amusing anecdote, although it belongs more properly to the division on peculiarities of Scottish phraseology, I give in the words of a correspondent who received it from the parties with whom it originated. About twenty years ago, he was paying a visit to a cousin, married to a Liverpool merchant of some standing. The husband had lately had a visit from his aged father, who formerly followed the occupation of farming in Stirlingshire, and who had probably never been out of Scotland before in his life. The son, finding his father rather de trop in his office, one day persuaded him to cross the ferry over the Mersey, and inspect the harvesting, then in full operation, on the Cheshire side. On landing, he approached a young woman reaping with the sickle in a field of oats, when the following dialogue ensued:—

Farmer.—Lassie, are yer aits muckle bookit[184] th' year?

Reaper.—What say'n yo?

Farmer.—I was speiring gif yer aits are muckle bookit th' year!

Reaper (in amazement).—I dunnot know what yo' say'n.

Farmer (in equal astonishment).—Gude—safe—us,—do ye no understaan gude plain English?—are—yer—aits—muckle—bookit?

Reaper decamps to her nearest companion, saying that was a madman, while he shouted in great wrath, "They were naething else than a set o' ignorant pock-puddings."

An English tourist visited Arran, and being a keen disciple of Izaak Walton, was arranging to have a day's good sport. Being told that the cleg, or horse-fly, would suit his purpose admirably for lure, he addressed himself to Christy, the Highland servant-girl:—"I say, my girl, can you get me some horse-flies?" Christy looked stupid, and he repeated his question. Finding that she did not yet comprehend him, he exclaimed, "Why, girl, did you never see a horse-fly?" "Naa, sir," said the girl, "but A wance saw a coo jump ower a preshipice."

The following anecdote is highly illustrative of the thoroughly attached old family serving-man. A correspondent sends it as told to him by an old schoolfellow of Sir Walter Scott's at Fraser and Adam's class, High School:—

One of the lairds of Abercairnie proposed to go out, on the occasion of one of the risings for the Stuarts, in the '15 or '45—but this was not with the will of his old serving-man, who, when Abercairnie was pulling on his boots, preparing to go, overturned a kettle of boiling water upon his legs, so as to disable him from joining his friends—saying, "Tak that—let them fecht wha like; stay ye at hame and be laird o' Abercairnie."

A story illustrative of a union of polite courtesy with rough and violent ebullition of temper common in the old Scottish character, is well known in the Lothian family. William Henry, fourth Marquis of Lothian, had for his guest at dinner an old countess to whom he wished to show particular respect and attention[185]. After a very complimentary reception, he put on his white gloves to hand her down stairs, led her up to the upper end of the table, bowed, and retired to his own place. This I am assured was the usual custom with the chief lady guest by persons who themselves remember it. After all were seated, the Marquis addressed the lady, "Madam, may I have the honour and happiness of helping your ladyship to some fish?" But he got no answer, for the poor woman was deaf as a post, and did not hear him. After a pause, but still in the most courteous accents, "Madam, have I your ladyship's permission to send you some fish?" Then a little quicker, "Is your Ladyship inclined to take fish?" Very quick, and rather peremptory, "Madam, do ye choice fish?" At last the thunder burst, to everybody's consternation, with a loud thump on the table and stamp on the floor: "Con—found ye, will ye have any fish?" I am afraid the exclamation might have been even of a more pungent character.

A correspondent has kindly enabled me to add a reminiscence and anecdote of a type of Scottish character now nearly extinct.—I mean the old Scottish military officer of the wars of Holland and the Low Countries. I give them in his own words:—"My father, the late Rev. Dr. Bethune, minister of Dornoch, was on friendly terms with a fine old soldier, the late Colonel Alexander Sutherland of Calmaly and Braegrudy, in Sutherlandshire, who was lieutenant-colonel of the 'Local Militia,' and who used occasionally, in his word of command, to break out with a Gaelic phrase to the men, much to the amusement of bystanders. He called his charger, a high-boned not overfed animal, Cadaver—a play upon accents, for he was a good classical scholar, and fond of quoting the Latin poets. But he had no relish nor respect for the 'Modern languages,' particularly for that of our French neighbours, whom he looked upon as 'hereditary' enemies! My father and the colonel were both politicians, as well as scholars. Reading a newspaper article in his presence one day, my father stopped short, handing the paper to him, and said, 'Colonel, here is a French quotation, which you can translate better than I can,' 'No, sir!' said the colonel, 'I never learnt the language of the scoundrels!!!' The colonel was known as 'Col. Sandy Sutherland,' and the men always called him Colonel Sandy. He was a splendid specimen of the hale veteran, with a stentorian voice, and the last queue I remember to have seen."

A correspondent kindly sends me from Aberdeenshire a humorous story, very much of the same sort as that of Colonel Erskine's servant, who considerately suggested to his master that "maybe an aith might relieve him[186]." My correspondent heard the story from the late Bishop Skinner.

It was among the experiences of his father, Bishop John Skinner. While making some pastoral visits in the neighbourhood of the town (Aberdeen), the Bishop took occasion to step into the cottage of two humble parishioners, a man and his wife, who cultivated a little croft. No one was within; but as the door was only on the latch, the Bishop knew that the worthy couple could not be far distant. He therefore stepped in the direction of the outhouses, and found them both in the barn winnowing corn, in the primitive way, with "riddles," betwixt two open doors. On the Bishop making his appearance, the honest man ceased his winnowing operations, and in the gladness of his heart stepped briskly forward to welcome his pastor; but in his haste he trod upon the rim of the riddle, which rebounded with great force against one of his shins. The accident made him suddenly pull up; and, instead of completing the reception, he stood vigorously rubbing the injured limb; and, not daring in such a venerable presence to give vent to the customary strong ejaculations, kept twisting his face into all sorts of grimaces. As was natural, the Bishop went forward, uttering the usual formulas of condolence and sympathy, the patient, meanwhile, continuing his rubbings and his silent but expressive contortions. At last Janet came to the rescue; and, clapping the Bishop coaxingly on the back, said, "Noo, Bishop, jist gang ye yir waas into the hoose, an' we'll follow fan he's had time to curse a fyllie, an' I'se warran' he'll seen be weel eneuch!"

The following might have been added as examples of the dry humorous manner in which our countrymen and countrywomen sometimes treat matters with which they have to deal, even when serious ones:—

An itinerant vendor of wood in Aberdeen having been asked how his wife was, replied, "Oh, she's fine; I hae taen her tae Banchory;" and on it being innocently remarked that the change of air would do her good, he looked up, and, with a half smile, said, "Hoot, she's i' the kirk-yard."

The well-known aversion of the Scotch to hearing read sermons has often led to amusing occurrences. One pastor, in a country district, who was much respected by his people, but who, nevertheless, were never quite reconciled to his paper in the pulpit, found himself on one occasion in an awkward predicament, from this same paper question. One Sabbath afternoon, having exhausted both firstly and secondly, he came to the termination of his discourse; but, unfortunately, the manuscript was wanting. In vain efforts to seek the missing paper, he repeated "thirdly and lastly" ad nauseam to his hearers. At last one, cooler than the others, rose, and nodding to the minister, observed, "'Deed, sir, If I'm no mista'en, I saw 'thirdly and lastly' fa' ower the poopit stairs;" evidently enjoying the disappearance of so important a part of the obnoxious document.

This prejudice was indeed some years since in Scotland quite inveterate. The following anecdote has been kindly sent to me from Memoirs of Charles Young, lately published by his son:—

"I have a distinct recollection, one Sunday when I was living at Cults, and when a stranger was officiating for Dr. Gillespie, observing that he had not proceeded five minutes with his 'discourse,' before there was a general commotion and stampedo. The exodus at last became so serious, that, conceiving something to be wrong, probably a fire in the manse, I caught the infection, and eagerly inquired of the first person I encountered in the churchyard what was the matter, and was told, with an expression of sovereign scorn and disgust—'Losh keep ye, young man! Hae ye eyes, and see not? Hae ye ears, and hear not? The man reads!"

On one occasion, however, even this prejudice gave way before the power of the most eloquent preacher that Scotland ever heard, or perhaps that the world ever heard. A shrewd old Fife hearer of sermons had been objecting, in the usual exaggerated language, against reading sermons in the pulpit. A gentleman urged the case of Dr. Chalmers, in defence of the practice. He used his paper in preaching rigidly, and yet with what an effect he read! All the objector could reply to this was, "Ah, but it's fell[187] reading yon."

The two following are from a correspondent who heard them told by the late Dr. Barclay the anatomist, well known for his own dry Scottish humour.

A country laird, at his death, left his property in equal shares to his two sons, who continued to live very amicably together for many years. At length one said to the other, "Tam, we're gettin' auld now, you'll tak a wife, and when I dee you'll get my share o' the grund." "Na, John, you're the youngest and maist active, you'll tak a wife, and when I dee you'll get my share." "Od," says John, "Tam, that's jist the way wi' you when there's ony fash or trouble. The deevil a thing you'll do at a'."

A country clergyman, who was not on the most friendly terms with one of his heritors who resided in Stirling, and who had annoyed the minister by delay in paying him his teinds (or tithe), found it necessary to make the laird understand that his proportion of stipend must be paid so soon as it became due. The payment came next term punctual to the time. When the messenger was introduced to the minister, he asked who he was, remarking that he thought he had seen him before. "I am the hangman of Stirling, sir." "Oh, just so, take a seat till I write you a receipt." It was evident that the laird had chosen this medium of communication with the minister as an affront, and to show his spite. The minister, however, turned the tables upon him, sending back an acknowledgment for the payment in these terms:—"Received from Mr. ——, by the hands of the hangman of Stirling, his doer[188], the sum of," etc. etc.

The following story of pulpit criticism by a beadle used to be told, I am assured, by the late Rev. Dr. Andrew Thomson:—

A clergyman in the country had a stranger preaching for him one day, and meeting his beadle, he said to him, "Well, Saunders, how did you like the sermon to-day?" "I watna, sir; it was rather ower plain and simple for me. I like thae sermons best that jumbles the joodgment and confoonds the sense. Od, sir, I never saw ane that could come up to yoursell at that."

The epithet "canny" has frequently been applied to our countrymen, not in a severe or invidious spirit, but as indicating a due regard to personal interest and safety. In the larger edition of Jamieson (see edition of 1840) I find there are no fewer than eighteen meanings given of this word. The following extract from a provincial paper, which has been sent me, will furnish a good illustration. It is headed, the "PROPERTY QUALIFICATION," and goes on—"Give a chartist a large estate, and a copious supply of ready money, and you make a Conservative of him. He can then see the other side of the moon, which he could never see before. Once, a determined Radical in Scotland, named Davy Armstrong, left his native village; and many years afterwards, an old fellow grumbler met him, and commenced the old song. Davy shook his head. His friend was astonished, and soon perceived that Davy was no longer a grumbler, but a rank Tory. Wondering at the change, he was desirous of knowing the reason. Davy quietly and laconically replied—'I've a coo (cow) noo.'"

But even still more "canny" was the eye to the main chance in an Aberdonian fellow-countryman, communicated in the following pleasant terms from a Nairn correspondent:—"I have just been reading your delightful 'Reminiscences,' which has brought to my recollection a story I used to hear my father tell. It was thus:—A countryman in a remote part of Aberdeenshire having got a newly-coined sovereign in the days when such a thing was seldom seen in his part of the country, went about showing it to his friends and neighbours for the charge of one penny each sight. Evil days, however, unfortunately overtook him, and he was obliged to part with his loved coin. Soon after, a neighbour called on him, and asked a sight of his sovereign, at the same time tendering a penny. 'Ah, man,' says he, 'it's gane; but I'll lat ye see the cloutie it was rowt in for a bawbee.'"

There was something very simple-minded in the manner in which a parishioner announced his canny care for his supposed interests when he became an elder of the kirk. The story is told of a man who had got himself installed in the eldership, and, in consequence, had for some time carried round the ladle for the collections. He had accepted the office of elder because some wag had made him believe that the remuneration was sixpence each Sunday, with a boll of meal at New Year's Day. When the time arrived he claimed his meal, but was told he had been hoaxed. "It may be sae wi' the meal," he said coolly, "but I took care o' the saxpence mysell."

There was a good deal both of the pawky and the canny in the following anecdote, which I have from an honoured lady of the south of Scotland:—"There was an old man who always rode a donkey to his work, and tethered him while he worked on the roads, or whatever else it might be. It was suggested to him by my grandfather that he was suspected of putting it in to feed in the fields at other people's expense. 'Eh, laird, I could never be tempted to do that, for my cuddy winna eat onything but nettles and thristles.' One day my grandfather was riding along the road, when he saw Andrew Leslie at work, and his donkey up to the knees in one of his clover fields, feeding luxuriously. 'Hollo, Andrew,' said he; 'I thought you told me your cuddy would eat nothing but nettles and thistles.' 'Ay,' said he, 'but he misbehaved the day; he nearly kicket me ower his head, sae I pat him in there just to punish him.'"

There is a good deal of the same sort of simple character brought out in the two following. They were sent to me from Golspie, and are original, as they occurred in my correspondent's own experience. The one is a capital illustration of thrift, the other of kind feeling for the friendless, in the Highland character. I give the anecdotes in my correspondent's own words:—A little boy, some twelve years of age, came to me one day with the following message: "My mother wants a vomit from you, sir, and she bade me say if it will not be strong enough, she will send it back." "Oh, Mr. Begg," said a woman to me, for whom I was weighing two grains of calomel for a child, "dinna be so mean wi' it; it is for a poor faitherless bairn."

The following, from a provincial paper, contains a very amusing recognition of a return which one of the itinerant race considered himself conscientiously bound to make to his clerical patron for an alms: "A beggar, while on his rounds one day this week, called on a clergyman (within two and a half miles of the Cross of Kilmarnock), who, obeying the biblical injunction of clothing the naked, offered the beggar an old top-coat. It was immediately rolled up, and the beggar, in going away with it under his arm, thoughtfully (!) remarked, 'I'll hae tae gie ye a day's hearin' for this na.'"

The natural and self-complacent manner in which the following anecdote brings out in the Highlander an innate sense of the superiority of Celtic blood is highly characteristic:—A few years ago, when an English family were visiting in the Highlands, their attention was directed to a child crying; on their observing to the mother it was cross, she exclaimed—"Na, na, it's nae cross, for we're baith true Hieland."

The late Mr. Grahame of Garsock, in Strathearn, whose grandson now "is laird himsel," used to tell, with great unction, some thirty years ago, a story of a neighbour of his own of a still earlier generation, Drummond of Keltie, who, as it seems, had employed an itinerant tailor instead of a metropolitan artist. On one occasion a new pair of inexpressibles had been made for the laird; they were so tight that, after waxing hot and red in the attempt to try them on, he let out rather savagely at the tailor, who calmly assured him, "It's the fash'n; it's jist the fash'n." "Eh, ye haveril, is it the fashion for them no to go on?"

An English gentleman writes to me—"We have all heard much of Scotch caution, and I met once with an instance of it which I think is worth recording, and which I tell as strictly original. About 1827, I fell into conversation, on board of a Stirling steamer, with a well-dressed middle-aged man, who told me he was a soldier of the 42d, going on leave. He began to relate the campaigns he had gone through, and mentioned having been at the siege of St. Sebastian.—'Ah! under Sir Thomas Graham?' 'Yes, sir; he commanded there.' 'Well,' I said, merely by way of carrying on the crack, 'and what do you think of him?' Instead of answering, he scanned me several times from head to foot, and from foot to head, and then said, in a tone of the most diplomatic caution, 'Ye'll perhaps be of the name of Grah'm yersel, sir?' There could hardly be a better example, either of the circumspection of a real canny Scot, or of the lingering influence of the old patriarchal feeling, by which 'A name, a word, makes clansmen vassals to their lord.'"

Now when we linger over these old stories, we seem to live at another period, and in such reminiscences we converse with a generation different from our own. Changes are still going on around us. They have been going on for some time past. The changes are less striking as society advances, and we find fewer alterations for us to notice. Probably each generation will have less change to record than the generation that preceded; still every one who is tolerably advanced in life must feel that, comparing its beginning and its close, he has witnessed two epochs, and that in advanced life he looks on a different world from one which he can remember. To elucidate this fact has been my present object, and in attempting this task I cannot but feel how trifling and unsatisfactory my remarks must seem to many who have a more enlarged and minute acquaintance with Scottish life and manners than I have. But I shall be encouraged to hope for a favourable, or at least an indulgent, sentence upon these Reminiscences, if to any of my readers I shall have opened a fresh insight into the subject of social changes amongst us. Many causes have their effect upon the habits and customs of mankind, and of late years such causes have been greatly multiplied in number and activity. In many persons, and in some who have not altogether lost their national partialities, there is a general tendency to merge Scottish usages and Scottish expressions into the English forms, as being more correct and genteel. The facilities for moving, not merely from place to place in our own country, but from one country to another; the spread of knowledge and information by means of periodical publications and newspapers; and the incredibly low prices at which literary works are produced, must have great effects. Then there is the improved taste in art, which, together with literature, has been taken up by young men who, fifty, sixty, seventy years ago, or more, would have known no such sources of interest, or indeed who would have looked upon them as unmanly and effeminate. When first these pursuits were taken up by our Scottish young men, they excited in the north much amazement, and, I fear, contempt, as was evinced by a laird of the old school, who, the first time he saw a young man at the pianoforte, asked, with evident disgust, "Can the creature sew ony?" evidently putting the accomplishment of playing the pianoforte and the accomplishment of the needle in the same category.

The greater facility of producing books, prints, and other articles which tend to the comfort and embellishment of domestic life, must have considerable influence upon the habits and tastes of a people. I have often thought how much effect might be traced to the single circumstance of the cheap production of pianofortes. An increased facility of procuring the means of acquaintance with good works of art and literature acts both as cause and effect. A growing and improved taste tends to stimulate the production of the best works of art. These, in return, foster and advance the power of forming a due estimate of art. In the higher department of music, for example, the cheap rate not only of hearing compositions of the first class, but of possessing the works of the most eminent composers, must have had influence upon thousands. The principal oratorios of Handel may be purchased for as many shillings each as they cost pounds years ago. Indeed, at that time the very names of those immortal works were known only to a few who were skilled to appreciate their high beauties. Now associations are formed for practising and studying the choral works of the great masters.

We might indeed adduce many more causes which seem to produce changes of habits, tastes, and associations, amongst our people. For example, families do not vegetate for years in one retired spot as they used to do; young men are encouraged to attain accomplishments, and to have other sources of interest than the field or the bottle. Every one knows, or may know, everything that is going on through the whole world. There is a tendency in mankind to lose all that is peculiar, and in nations to part with all that distinguishes them from each other. We hear of wonderful changes in habits and customs where change seemed impossible. In India and Turkey even, peculiarities and prejudices are fading away under the influence of time. Amongst ourselves, no doubt, one circumstance tended greatly to call forth, and, as we may say, to develop, the peculiar Scotch humour of which we speak—and that was the familiarity of intercourse which took place between persons in different positions of life. This extended even to an occasional interchange of words between the minister and the members of his flock during time of service. I have two anecdotes in illustration of this fact, which I have reason to believe are quite authentic. In the church of Banchory on Deeside, to which I have referred, a former minister always preached without book, and being of an absent disposition, he sometimes forgot the head of discourse on which he was engaged, and got involved in confusion. On one occasion, being desirous of recalling to his memory the division of his subject, he called out to one of his elders, a farmer on the estate of Ley, "Bush (the name of his farm), Bush, ye're sleeping." "Na, sir, I'm no sleeping—I'm listening." "Weel, then, what had I begun to say?" "Oh, ye were saying so and so." This was enough, and supplied the minister with the thread of his discourse; and he went on. The other anecdote related to the parish of Cumbernauld, the minister of which was at the time referred to noted for a very disjointed and rambling style of preaching, without method or connection. His principal heritor was the Lord Elphinstone of the time, and unfortunately the minister and the peer were not on good terms, and always ready to annoy each other by sharp sayings or otherwise. The minister on one occasion had somewhat in this spirit called upon the beadle to "wauken my Lord Elphinstone," upon which Lord Elphinstone said, "I'm no sleeping, minister." "Indeed you were, my lord." He again disclaimed the sleeping. So as a test the preacher asked him, "What I had been saying last then?" "Oh, juist wauken Lord Elphinstone." "Ay, but what did I say before that?" "Indeed," retorted Lord Elphinstone, "I'll gie ye a guinea if ye'll tell that yersell, minister." We can hardly imagine the possibility of such scenes now taking place amongst us in church. It seems as if all men were gradually approximating to a common type or form in their manners and views of life; oddities are sunk, prominences are rounded off, sharp features are polished, and all things are becoming smooth and conventional. The remark, like the effect, is general, and extends to other countries as well as to our own. But as we have more recently parted with our peculiarities of dialect, oddity, and eccentricity, it becomes the more amusing to mark our participation in this change, because a period of fifty years shows here a greater contrast than the same period would show in many other localities.

I have already referred to a custom which prevailed in all the rural parish churches, and which I remember in my early days at Fettercairn; the custom I mean, now quite obsolete, of the minister, after pronouncing the blessing, turning to the heritors, who always occupied the front seats of the gallery, and making low bows to each family. Another custom I recollect:—When the text had been given out, it was usual for the elder branches of the congregation to hand about their Bibles amongst the younger members, marking the place, and calling their attention to the passage. During service another handing about was frequent among the seniors, and that was a circulation of the sneeshin-mull or snuff-box. Indeed, I have heard of the same practice in an Episcopal church, and particularly in one case of an ordination, where the bishop took his pinch of snuff, and handed the mull to go round amongst the clergy assembled for the solemn occasion within the altar-rails.

Amongst Scottish reminiscences which do not extend beyond our own recollections we may mention the disappearance of Trinity Church in Edinburgh, which has taken place within the last quarter of a century. It was founded by Mary of Gueldres, queen of James II. of Scotland, in 1446, and liberally endowed for a provost, prebendaries, choristers, etc. It was never completed, but the portions built—viz., choir, transept, and central tower—were amongst the finest specimens of later Gothic work in Scotland. The pious founder had placed it at the east end of what was then the North Loch. She chose her own church for the resting-place of her remains as a sanctuary of safety and repose. A railway parliamentary bill, however, overrides founder's intentions and Episcopal consecrations. Where once stood the beautiful church of the Holy Trinity, where once the "pealing organ" and the "full-voiced choir" were daily heard "in service high and anthems clear"—where for 400 years slept the ashes of a Scottish Queen—now resound the noise and turmoil of a railway station.

But we have another example of the uncertainty of all earthly concerns, and one which supplies a Scottish reminiscence belonging to the last seventy years. Wilhelmina, Viscountess Glenorchy, during her lifetime, built and endowed a church for two ministers, who were provided with very handsome incomes. She died 17th July 1786, and was buried on the 24th July, aged 44. Her interment took place, by her own direction, in the church she had founded, immediately in front of the pulpit; and she fixed upon that spot as a place of security and safety, where her mortal remains might rest in peace till the morning of the resurrection. But alas for the uncertainty of all earthly plans and projects for the future!—the iron road came on its reckless course and swept the church away. The site was required for the North British Railway, which passed directly over the spot where Lady Glenorchy had been buried. Her remains were accordingly disinterred 24th December 1844; and the trustees of the church, not having yet erected a new one, deposited the body of their foundress in the vaults beneath St. John's Episcopal Church, and after resting there for fifteen years, they were, in 1859, removed to the building which is now Lady Glenorchy's Church.

In our reminiscences of many changes which have taken place during fifty years in Scottish manners, it might form an interesting section to record some peculiarities which remain. I mean such peculiarities as yet linger amongst us, and still mark a difference in some of our social habits from those of England. Some Scottish usages die hard, and are found still to supply amusement for southern visitors. To give a few examples, persons still persist among us in calling the head of a family, or the host, the landlord, although he never charged his guests a halfpenny for the hospitality he exercises. In games, golf and curling still continue to mark the national character—cricket was long an exotic amongst us. In many of our educational institutions, however, it seems now fairly to have taken root. We continue to call our reception rooms "public rooms," although never used for any but domestic purposes. Military rank is attached to ladies, as we speak of Mrs. Lieutenant Fraser, Mrs. Captain Scott, Mrs. Major Smith, Mrs. Colonel Campbell. On the occasion of a death, we persist in sending circular notices to all the relatives, whether they know of it or not—a custom which, together with men wearing weepers at funeral solemnities, is unknown in England[189]. Announcing a married lady's death under her maiden name must seem strange to English ears—as, for example, we read of the demise of Mrs. Jane Dickson, spouse of Thomas Morison. Scottish cookery retains its ground, and hotch-potch, minced collops, sheep's head singed, and occasionally haggis, are still marked peculiarities of the Scottish table. These social differences linger amongst us. But stronger points are worn away; eccentricities and oddities such as existed once will not do now. One does not see why eccentricity should be more developed in one age than in another, but we cannot avoid the conclusion that the day for real oddities is no more. Professors of colleges are those in whom one least expects oddity—grave and learned characters; and yet such have been in former times. We can scarcely now imagine such professors as we read of in a past generation. Take the case of no less distinguished a person than Adam Smith, author of the Wealth of Nations, who went about the streets talking and laughing to himself in such a manner as to make the market women think he was deranged; and he told of one himself who ejaculated, as he passed, "Hech, sirs, and he is weel pat on, too!" expressing surprise that a decided lunatic, who from his dress appeared to be a gentleman, should be permitted to walk abroad unattended. Professors still have their crotchets like other people; but we can scarcely conceive a professor of our day coming out like Adam Smith, and making fishwives to pass such observations on his demeanour.

Peculiarities in a people's phraseology may prove more than we are aware of, and may tend to illustrate circumstances of national history. Thus many words which would be included by Englishmen under the general term of Scotticisms, bear directly upon the question of a past intercourse with France, and prove how close at one time must have been the influence exercised upon general habits in Scotland by that intercourse. Scoto-Gallic words were quite differently situated from French words and phrases adopted in England. With us they proceeded from a real admixture of the two peoples. With us they form the ordinary common language of the country, and that was from a distant period moulded by French. In England, the educated and upper classes of late years adopted French words and phrases. With us, some of our French derivatives are growing obsolete as vulgar, and nearly all are passing from fashionable society. In England, we find the French-adopted words rather receiving accessions than going out of use.

Examples of words such as we have referred to, as showing a French influence and admixture, are familiar to many of my readers. I recollect some of them in constant use amongst old-fashioned Scottish people, and those terms, let it be remembered, are unknown in England.

A leg of mutton was always, with old-fashioned Scotch people, a gigot (Fr. gigot).

The crystal jug or decanter in which water is placed upon the table, was a caraff (Fr. carafe).

Gooseberries were groserts, or grossarts (Fr. groseille).

Partridges were pertricks,—a word much more formed upon the French perdrix than the English partridge.

The plate on which a joint or side-dish was placed upon the table was an ashet (Fr. assiette).

In the old streets of Edinburgh, where the houses are very high, and where the inhabitants all live in flats, before the introduction of soil-pipes there was no method of disposing of the foul water of the household, except by throwing it out of the window into the street. This operation, dangerous to those outside, was limited to certain hours, and the well-known cry, which preceded the missile and warned the passenger, was gardeloo! or, as Smollett writes it, gardy loo (Fr. garge de l'eau).

Anything troublesome or irksome used to be called, Scottice, fashions (Fr. facheux, facheuse); to fash one's-self (Fr. se facher).

The small cherry, both black and red, common in gardens, is in Scotland, never in England, termed gean (Fr. guigne), from Guigne, in Picardy.

The term dambrod, which has already supplied materials for a good story, arises from adopting French terms into Scottish language, as dams were the pieces with which the game of draughts was played (Fr. dammes). Brod is board.

A bedgown, or loose female upper garment, is still in many parts of Scotland termed a jupe (Fr. jupe).

In Kincardineshire the ashes of a blacksmith's furnace had the peculiar name of smiddy-coom (Fr. ecume, i.e. dross).

Oil, in common Scotch, used always to be ule,—as the uley pot, or uley cruse (Fr. huile).

Many of my readers are no doubt familiar with the notice taken of these words by Lord Cockburn, and with the account which he gives of these Scottish words derived from the French, probably during the time of Queen Mary's minority, when French troops were quartered in Scotland. I subjoin a more full list, for which I am indebted to a correspondent, because the words still lingering amongst us are in themselves the best REMINISCENCES of former days.

Scotch. English. French. Serviter Napkin From Serviette. Gigot (of mutton) ... " Gigot. Reeforts Radishes " Raiforts. Grosserts Gooseberries " Groseilles. Gardyveen Case for holding wine " Garde-vin. Jupe Part of a woman's dress " Jupe. Bonnaille A parting glass with a " Bon aller. friend going on a journey Gysard Person in a fancy dress " Guise. Dambrod Draught-board " Dammes. Pantufles Slippers " Pantoufles. Haggis Hashed meat " Hachis. Gou Taste, smell " Gout. Hogue Tainted " Haut gout. Grange Granary " Grange. Mouter Miller's perquisite " Mouture. Dour Obstinate " Dur. Douce Mild " Doux. Dorty Sulky " Durete. Braw Fine " Brave. Kimmer Gossip " Commere. Jalouse Suspect " Jalouser. Vizzy To aim at, to examine " Viser. Ruckle Heap (of stones) " Recueil. Gardy-loo (Notice well known in " Gardez-l'eau. Edinburgh) Dementit Out of patience, deranged " Dementir. On my verity Assertion of truth " Verite. By my certy Assertion of truth " Certes. Aumrie Cupboard " Almoire, in old French. Walise Portmanteau " Valise. Sucker Sugar " Sucre

Edinburgh Street Cry:—"Neeps like sucker. Whae'll buy neeps?" (turnips).

Petticoat-tails Cakes of triangular shapes " Petits gatelles (gateaux). Ashet Meat-dish " Assiette. Fashious Troublesome " Facheux. Prush, Madame[190] Call to a cow to come " Approchez, forward Madame

I dwell the more minutely on this question of Scottish words, from the conviction of their being so characteristic of Scottish humour, and being so distinctive a feature of the older Scottish race. Take away our Scottish phraseology, and we lose what is our specific distinction from England. In these expressions, too, there is often a tenderness and beauty as remarkable as the wit and humour. I have already spoken of the phrase "Auld-lang-syne," and of other expressions of sentiment, which may be compared in their Anglican and Scotch form.

FOOTNOTES:

[160] After all, the remark may not have been so absurd then as it appears now. Burns had not been long dead, nor was he then so noted a character as he is now. The Scotsmen might really have supposed a Southerner unacquainted with the fact of the poet's death.

[161] Choice.

[162] A vessel.

[163] Juice.

[164] Broth.

[165] Rev. A.K.H. Boyd.

[166] I believe the lady was Mrs. Murray Keith of Ravelston, with whom Sir Walter had in early life much intercourse.

[167] Disputing or bandying words backwards and forwards.

[168] In Scotland the remains of the deceased person is called the "corp."

[169] Laudanum and calomel.

[170] Read from the same book.

[171] Sorely kept under by the turkey-cock.

[172] Close the doors. The old woman was lying in a "box-bed." See Life of Robert Chambers, p. 12.

[173] Empty pocket.

[174] A cough.

[175] Shrivelled.

[176] Confound.

[177] Empty.

[178] It was of this minister, Mr. Thom of Govan, that Sir Walter Scott remarked "that he had demolished all his own chances of a Glasgow benefice, by preaching before the town council from a text in Hosea, 'Ephraim's drink is sour.'"

[179] Empty.

[180] Basket for fish.

[181] Well advanced.

[182] Wearied.

[183] I have abundant evidence to prove that a similar answer to that which Dr. Alexander records to have been made to Mr. Gillespie has been given on similar occasions by others.

[184] Oats heavy in bulk.

[185] This Marquis of Lothian was aide-de-camp to the Duke of Cumberland at the battle of Culloden, who sullied his character as a soldier and a nobleman by the cruelties which he exercised on the vanquished.

[186] Sir H. Moncreiff's Life of Dr. J. Erskine.

[187] Extraordinary.

[188] In Scotland it is usual to term the law-agent or man of business of any person his "doer."

[189] And yet, even as we write, weepers seem to be passing into reminiscence.

[190] This expression was adopted apparently in ridicule of the French applying the word "Madame" to a cow.



CONCLUSION.

I am very anxious to bear in mind throughout these Reminiscences, and to keep in view the same feeling for my readers—viz. that such details regarding the changes which many living have themselves noticed as taking place in our customs and habits of society in Scotland, should always suggest the question to the thoughtful and serious mind, Are the changes which have been observed for good? Is the world a better world than that which we can remember? On some important points changes have been noticed in the upper classes of Scottish society, which unquestionably are improvements. For example, the greater attention paid to observance of Sunday, and to attendance upon public worship,—the partial disappearance of profane swearing and of excess in drinking. But then the painful questions arise, Are such beneficial changes general through the whole body of our countrymen? may not the vices and follies of one grade of society have found a refuge in those that are of a lower class? may not new faults have taken their place where older faults have been abandoned? Of this we are quite sure—no lover of his country can fail to entertain the anxious wish, that the change we noticed in regard to drinking and swearing were universal, and that we had some evidence of its being extended through all classes of society. We ought certainly to feel grateful when we reflect that, in many instances which we have noticed, the ways and customs of society are much improved in common sense, in decency, in delicacy, and refinement. There are certain modes of life, certain expressions, eccentricity of conduct, coarseness of speech, books, and plays, which were in vogue amongst us, even fifty or sixty years ago, which would not be tolerated in society at the present time. We cannot illustrate this in a more satisfactory manner than by reference to the acknowledgment of a very interesting and charming old lady, who died so lately as 1823. In 1821, Mrs. Keith of Ravelstone, grandaunt of Sir Walter Scott, thus writes in returning to him the work of a female novelist which she had borrowed from him out of curiosity, and to remind her of "auld lang syne:"—"Is it not a very odd thing that I, an old woman of eighty and upwards, sitting alone, feel myself ashamed to read a book which, sixty years ago, I have heard read aloud for the amusement of large circles, consisting of the first and most creditable society in London?" There can be no doubt that at the time referred to by Mrs. Keith, Tristram Shandy[191], Tom Jones, Humphrey Clinker, etc., were on the drawing-room tables of ladies whose grandchildren or great-grandchildren never saw them, or would not acknowledge it if they had seen them. But authors not inferior to Sterne, Fielding, or Smollett, are now popular, who, with Charles Dickens, can describe scenes of human life with as much force and humour, and yet in whose pages nothing will be found which need offend the taste of the most refined, or shock the feelings of the most pure. This is a change where there is also great improvement. It indicates not merely a better moral perception in authors themselves, but it is itself a homage to the improved spirit of the age. We will hope that, with an improved exterior, there is improvement in society within. If the feelings shrink from what is coarse in expression, we may hope that vice has, in some sort, lost attraction. At any rate, from what we discern around us we hope favourably for the general improvement of mankind, and of our own beloved country in particular. If Scotland, in parting with her rich and racy dialect, her odd and eccentric characters, is to lose something in quaint humour and good stories, we will hope she may grow and strengthen in better things—good as those are which she loses. However this may be, I feel quite assured that the examples which I have now given, of Scottish expressions, Scottish modes and habits of life, and Scottish anecdotes, which belong in a great measure to the past, and yet which are remembered as having a place in the present century, must carry conviction that great changes have taken place in the Scottish social circle. There were some things belonging to our country which we must all have desired should be changed. There were others which we could only see changed with regret and sorrow. The hardy and simple habits of Scotsmen of many past generations; their industry, economy, and integrity, which made them take so high a place in the estimation and the confidence of the people amongst whom they dwelt in all countries of the world; the intelligence and superior education of her mechanics and her peasantry, combined with a strict moral and religious demeanour, fully justified the praise of Burns when he described the humble though sublime piety of the "Cottar's Saturday Night," and we can well appreciate the testimony which he bore to the hallowed power and sacred influences of the devotional exercises of his boyhood's home, when he penned the immortal words:—

"From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs, That makes her loved at home, revered abroad."

On comparing Scotland past with Scotland present, we cannot evade the question, Are "scenes like these"—devotional domestic scenes like these—become less frequent than they were? Do they still hold their place by the cottar's fireside, or are they becoming only a reminiscence of what was once a national distinction? Whatever be our religious opinions, or whatever be our views on questions of ecclesiastical polity and church order, no Scotsman who desires the happiness and honour of his country could avoid a deep regret at the very idea of Burns' "Cottar's Saturday Night" having become a thing of the past; and yet we must not shrink from inquiry into the true state of the case. I have asked the opinions of friends both of the Established and the Free Church, who have met my inquiries in a fair and candid spirit, and, from the answers I have received, have come to something like the following conclusion:—I believe such scenes as Burns' "Cottar's Saturday Night" are still to be met with in all their freshness and all their fervour in the dwellings of a good religious peasantry; but in some places the cottar population itself has undergone a great change. Two causes have combined to produce this effect:—An extensive system of emigration has thinned the older families of the soil, whilst the practice of bringing in mere labourers has in many districts made the old family domestic firesides less numerous. Then, alas! alas! we fear cottar MORALITY has not been such as to keep up the practice. Reports made to both the General Assemblies of 1871 on this question were far from being satisfactory. Dr. Begg, too, in his striking and able pamphlet on the "Ecclesiastical and Social Evils of Scotland," refers to "symptoms of a nation's degeneracy which seem multiplying in Scotland;" also to a "growing amount of heathenism and drunkenness."

With such representations before us regarding a decline of domestic morality, we cannot expect to see much increase of domestic piety. Burns, after he had become lowered in moral feelings by those licentious habits and scenes into which he unfortunately fell after he had left his father's house, was not hypocrite enough to profess the same love and interest for the scenes of his innocent and early days. The country clergy of Scotland have their many difficulties against which they are to contend; and many obstacles which they have to meet. But let not the domestic piety of the lowest cottages of the land be lost sight of. The results of such worship are so blessed upon the inmates, that the practice should everywhere be urged upon their flocks by the clergy, and encouraged by all means in their power; and in that view it would, I think, be desirable to circulate short forms of prayer for family use. Many such have lately been published; and, whatever difference of opinion may be entertained as to the comparative merits of extempore or liturgical prayer for the public worship of the church, there can be no question that in many instances a form must be very useful, and often essential at the commencement, at least, of cottage worship. I have known cases where it has been declined on the plea of inability to conduct the service.

There are numerous indications that, on the whole, a regard for religion and religious ordinances is not losing ground in Scotland. The great number of churches—and of handsome churches—that are springing up, indicate, by their attendance, how much hold the subject has upon the people. The ample funds raised for charitable and for missionary objects give good testimony in the cause; and, in regard to the immediate question before us, one favourable result may be reported on this subject—the practice and feelings of domestic piety and family worship have, at any rate, extended in Scotland in an upward direction of its social life. Beyond all doubt, we may say family worship is more frequent, as a general practice, in houses of the rich, and also in the houses of farmers and of superior operatives, than it was some years ago. The Montrose anecdote about family prayers, told at page 64, could hardly have place now, and indeed many persons could not understand the point.

I hope I am not blinded to the defects of my own countrymen, nor am I determined to resist evidence of any deterioration which may be proved. But I feel confident that Scotland still stands pre-eminent amongst the nations for moral and religious qualities. The nucleus of her character will bear comparison with any. We will cherish hope for the mental tone of our countrymen being still in the ascendant, and still imbued with those qualities that make a moral and religious people. We have reason to know that in many departments of business, Scottish intelligence, Scottish character, and Scottish services, are still decidedly at a premium in the market.

But now, before concluding, I am desirous of recording some Reminiscences upon a phase of Scottish RELIGIOUS history which involves very important consequences, and which I would not attempt to discuss without serious consideration. Indeed I have sometimes shrunk from the discussion at all, as leading to questions of so delicate a nature, and as involving matters on which there are so many differences of opinion. I refer to the state of our divisions and alienations of spirit on account of religion.

The great Disruption, which nearly equally divided the National Church, and which took place in 1843, is now become a matter of reminiscence. Of those nearly connected with that movement, some were relatives of my own, and many were friends. Unlike similar religious revolutions, that which caused the Free Church of Scotland did not turn upon any difference of opinion on matters either of doctrine or of ecclesiastical polity. It arose entirely from differences regarding the relation subsisting between the Church and the State, by which the Church was established and endowed. The great evil of all such divisions, and the real cause for regret, lie in the injury they inflict on the cause of Christian unity and Christian love, and the separation they too often make between those who ought to be united in spirit, and who have hitherto been not unfrequently actually joined for years as companions and friends. The tone which is adopted by publications, which are the organs of various party opinions amongst us, show how keenly disputants, once excited, will deal with each other. The differences consequent upon the Disruption in the Scottish Church called forth great bitterness of spirit and much mutual recrimination at the time. But it seems to me that there are indications of a better spirit, and that there is more tolerance and more forbearance on religious differences amongst Scottish people generally. I cannot help thinking, however, that at no period of our ecclesiastical annals was such language made use of, and even against those of the highest place and authority in the Church, as we have lately met with in the organs of the extreme Anglican Church party. It is much to be regretted that earnest and zealous men should have adopted such a style of discussing religious differences. I cannot help thinking it is injurious to Christian feelings of love and Christian kindness. It is really sometimes quite appalling. From the same quarter I must expect myself severe handling for some of these pages, should they fall into their way. We cannot but lament, however, when we find such language used towards each other by those who are believers in a common Bible, and who are followers and disciples of the same lowly Saviour, and indeed frequently members of the same Church. Bigotry and intolerance are not confined to one side or another. They break out often where least expected. Differences, no doubt, will always exist on many contested subjects, but I would earnestly pray that all SUCH differences, amongst ourselves at least, as those which injure the forbearance and gentleness of the Christian character, should become "Scottish Reminiscences," whether they are called forth by the opposition subsisting between Presbyterianism and Episcopacy, or whether they arise amongst Presbyterians or amongst Episcopalians themselves.

To my apprehension Scotland has recently seen a most painful indication of the absence of that charity which, according to St. Paul, should "never fail" amongst a Christian people. The act of two English Prelates officiating in one of the Established churches has called forth a storm of indignation as loud and vehement as if in a heathen land they had fallen down before the image of a heathen deity, and worshipped in a heathen temple. Then the explanation which has been given by apologists for these services is not the least remarkable feature of the transaction. These ministrations have been called "Mission Services," and, in so far as I enter into the meaning of the phrase, I would solemnly and seriously protest against its being made use of in such a case. "Mission service" can only be applied to the case of a missionary raising his voice "in partibus infidelium" or, to say the least of it, in a land where no Christian church was already planted. When I think of the piety, the Christian worth, and high character of so many friends in the Established and other Presbyterian churches in Scotland, I would again repeat my solemn protestation against such religious intolerance, and again declare my conviction, that Englishmen and Scotsmen, so far from looking out for points of difference and grounds for separation on account of the principles on which their Churches are established, should endeavour to make the bonds of religious union as close as possible. I can scarcely express the gratification I felt on learning from the Scotsman, November 20, that such were the sentiments called forth by this event in the mind of one of the ablest and most distinguished Prelates of our day. In reference to the Glengarry services, the Bishop of St. Andrews (Wordsworth) has declared his opinion, that the "subsequent explanations of those services seemed to mar the good work by introducing questions of etiquette, where nothing should have been thought of but the simple performance of Christian duty by Christian ministers for the benefit of Christian people[192]."

Such is the judgment expressed by the honoured and learned Bishop of St. Andrews, whose noble and patriotic exertions to draw the Episcopalians and the Presbyterians of Scotland closer together in bonds of religious feelings and religious worship have been spoken of in such terms, and such words have been applied to his labours in that cause, and to the administration generally of his own diocese, by one of the very high English Church papers, as have been to me a cause of deep sorrow and poignant regret.

As a Scotsman by descent from Presbyterians of high moral and religious character, and as an Episcopalian by conscientious preference, I would fain see more of harmony and of confidence between all Scotsmen, not only as fellow-countrymen, but as fellow-Christians. When I first joined the Episcopal Church the Edinburgh Episcopal clergy were on most friendly terms with the leading clergy of the Established Church. Every consideration was shown to them by such men as Bishop Sandford, Dr. Morehead, Rev. Archibald Alison, Rev. Mr. Shannon, and others. There was always service in the Episcopal chapels on the National Church communion fast-days. No opposition or dislike to Episcopalian clergymen occupying Presbyterian pulpits was ever avowed as a great principle. Charles Simeon of Cambridge, and others of the Churches of England and Ireland, frequently so officiated, and it was considered as natural and suitable. The learning and high qualities of the Church of England's hierarchy, were, with few exceptions, held in profound respect. Indeed, during the last hundred years, and since the days when Episcopacy was attacked under the term of "black prelacy," I can truly say, the Episcopal order has received far more severe handling in Episcopal England than it has received in Presbyterian Scotland. I must think, that in the case of two churches where the grounds of resemblance are on points of spiritual importance affecting great truths and doctrines of salvation, and where the points of difference affect questions more of government and external order than of salvation, there ought to be on both parts the desire at least to draw as closely as they can the bonds of Christian charity and mutual confidence.

I believe it to be very painful to Scotsmen generally, whether of the Established or the Episcopal Church, that the Presbyterian Church of Scotland should be spoken of in such terms as have lately been made use of. Scotsmen feel towards it as to the Church of the country established by law, just as the Anglican Church is established in England. They feel towards it as the Church whose ministrations are attended by our gracious Sovereign when she resides in the northern portion of her dominions, and in which public thanksgiving was offered to God in the royal presence for her Majesty's recovery. But more important still, they feel towards it as a church of which the members are behind no other communion in the tone and standard of their moral principle and integrity of conduct. They feel towards it as a church which has nobly retained her adherence to the principles of the Reformation, and which has been spared the humiliation of exhibiting any of her clergy nominally members of a reformed church, and, at the same time, virtually and at heart adherents to the opinions and practices of the Church of Rome. English people, in speaking of the Established Church of Scotland, seem to forget how much Episcopalians are mixed up with their Presbyterian fellow-countrymen in promoting common charitable and religious objects. For example, take my own experience: the administration of a very valuable charitable institution called the Paterson and Pape Fund, is vested jointly in the incumbent of St. John's, Edinburgh (Episcopalian), and the two clergymen of St. Cuthbert's (Established) Church. Even in matters affecting the interests of our own Church we may find ourselves closely connected. Take the administration of the late Miss Walker's will, and the carrying out her munificent bequest to our Church, of which I am a trustee. Of the nine trustees, two are Episcopalians residing in Scotland, one an Episcopalian residing in England, and six are Presbyterians residing in Scotland. The primary object of Miss Walker's settlement is to build and endow, for divine service, a cathedral church in Edinburgh; the edifice to cost not less than L40,000. The income arising from the remainder of her property to be expended for the benefit of the Scottish Episcopal Church generally. A meeting of trustees was held, November 25, 1871, and one of the first steps unanimously agreed upon was to appoint the Bishop-Coadjutor of Edinburgh, who is a trustee, to be chairman of the meeting. There is no doubt or question of mutual good feeling in the work, and that our Church feels full and entire confidence in the fair, honourable, candid, and courteous conduct of the trustees to whom in this case will be committed weighty matters connected with her interests.

At one of the congresses of the English Church it has been said, and well said, by Mr. B. Hope, that he and his friends of the High Church party would join as closely as they could with the members of the Romish Church who have taken common cause with Dr. Dollinger, "looking more to points where they agree, and not to points where they differ." Why should not the same rule be adopted towards brethren who differ from ourselves so little on points that are vital and eternal? The principle which I would apply to the circumstances, I think, may be thus stated: I would join with fellow-Christians in any good works or offices, either of charity or religion, where I could do so without compromise of my own principles. On such ground I do not see why we should not realise the idea already suggested,—viz. that of having an interchange between our pulpits and the pulpits of the Established and other Presbyterian or Independent Churches. Such ministerial interchange need not affect the question of orders, nor need it, in fact, touch many other questions on which differences are concerned.

Of course this should be arranged under due regulation, and with full precaution taken that the questions discussed shall be confined to points where there is agreement, and that points of difference should be left quite in abeyance. Why should we, under proper arrangements, fail to realise so graceful an exercise of Christian charity? Why should we lose the many benefits favourable to the advancement of Christian unity amongst us? An opportunity for practically putting this idea into a tangible form has occurred from the circumstance of the new chapel in the University of Glasgow being opened for service, to be conducted by clergymen of various churches. I gladly avail myself of the opportunity of testifying my grateful acknowledgments for the courteous and generous conduct of Dr. Caird, in his efforts to put forward members of our Church to conduct the services of the College chapel, and also of expressing my admiration of the power and beauty of his remarks on Christian unity and on brotherly love[193].

This is with me no new idea; no crude experiment proposed for the occasion. I have before me a paper which I wrote some years since, and which I had put into the shape of "An Address to the Bishops," to sanction such exchange of pulpits, hoping to get some of my clerical brethren to join in the object of the address. I feel assured much good would, under God, be the result of such spiritual union. If congregations would only unite in exchange of such friendly offices of religious instruction with each other, how often would persons, now strangers, become better acquainted! I wish the experiment could be tried, were it only to show how prejudices would be removed; how misunderstandings would be cleared away; how many better and kinder feelings would grow out of the closer union on religious questions! Nay, I would go farther, and express my full conviction, that my own Church would gain rather than lose in her interests under such a system. Men would be more disposed to listen with attention, and examine with candour the arguments we make use of in favour of our Church views. We should gain more of the sympathy of our countrymen who differ from us, by a calm expostulation than by bitter invective. Beautifully and wisely was it written by a sacred pen nearly three thousand years ago, "A soft answer turneth away wrath."

I have such confidence in the excellence of my own Church, that I believe to bring persons into closer and kinder connection with our system would be the more likely way to gain their approval and their favourable judgment. In nothing do we lose more of the confidence and estimation of our fellow-countrymen than in the feeling of our being intolerant and exclusive in our religious opinions. It is curious people should not see that the arguments addressed in a friendly spirit must tell more powerfully than the arguments of one who shows his hostile feeling.

With these feelings on the subject, it may be easily understood with what pleasure I read, in the Edinburgh Courant of November 10th, a report of what our Primus (Bishop Eden) said, at the entertainment which was given on the occasion of the consecration of St. Mary's Church, Glasgow. In speaking on the question of Union, the Primus said—

"I think I may speak for my Episcopal brethren, when I say that if the heads, especially of the Established Church of Scotland—for that is the body that has most power and influence—if a proposal were made by the leading men in that Church, in concurrence with those who hold views similar to themselves—a conference of the representative men of the different Churches—to consider in a Christian spirit what our differences are, and what are the points on which we are agreed, we would be most happy to take part in it. Such a conference might, in the providence of God, lead to our being drawn nearer to each other. I believe that then the prayer which the Bishop of St. Andrews offered up would he the earlier accomplished, namely, that the Episcopal Churches might become Reformed, and the Reformed Churches become Episcopal. If any proposal of this kind could be made, I believe we would be most ready to accept any invitation to consider whether the various Churches might not be drawn nearer to each other." (Great applause.)

The Coadjutor Bishop of Edinburgh in his address, after briefly referring to some proposals that had been made for union among the churches in South Africa, went on to say—

"I do say, as one of the Bishops of the Scottish Episcopal Church now, and in reference to what fell from the Primus, that I most heartily concur in what he said, and I cannot but feel that, without the slightest breach of the great fundamental principles of the Church of Christ, there are many points on which we may be at one with Christians who are not part of our organic body.

"I believe the proposal made by the Primus would have the effect of drawing them nearer to us, and be a step forward to that consummation which we all desire, and which our blessed Lord prayed—with his last breath—'That we may all be one.'" (Great applause.)

That two honoured Fathers of our Church, our Primus and my own Bishop, should have made use of such terms, and that their views should have been received by such an audience with so much applause, I could have offered a grateful acknowledgment upon my knees.

But after all, perhaps, it may be said this is an utopian idea, which, in the present state of religious feelings and ecclesiastical differences, never can be realised. It were a sufficient answer to the charge of utopianism brought against such a proposal, to plead that it was no more than what was sanctioned by the teaching of God's word. In this case it does not seem to go beyond the requirements of holy Scripture as set forth in St. Paul's description of charity, and in other passages which clearly enjoin Christians to act towards each other in love, and to cultivate, so far as they can, a spirit of mutual forbearance and of joint action in the sacred cause of preaching the truth as it is in Jesus. I cannot believe that, were St. Paul on earth, he would sanction the present state of jealous separation amongst Christians. Take such separation in connection with the beautiful sentiment, which we read in Phil. i. 18:—"What then? notwithstanding every way, whether in pretence, or in truth, Christ is preached; and I therein do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice."

The determination to exclude preaching that is not strictly according to our own forms seems to me quite inconsistent with the general teaching of Scripture, more particularly with this apostolic declaration. But I would bring this question to a practical issue, and we shall find enough in our own experience to confirm the view I have taken, and to sanction the arrangement I propose. To bring forward co-operation in the great and vitally important work of preaching God's word, which has been already effected between persons holding on some points opinions different from each other, take first the case of revision of the English translation of the Old and New Testament Scriptures, as it has been resolved upon by the authorities of the great Anglican Communion. They have had no difficulty in finding Nonconformist scholars and divines whose fitness to be associated with Anglican Churchmen in the great work of arranging and correcting an authorised version has been admitted by all. Thus we have Nonconformists and English and Scottish Episcopalians united in adjusting the terms of the sacred text;—the text from which all preaching in the English tongue shall in future derive its authority, and by which all its teaching shall in future be guided and directed. There is already, however, a closer and a more practical blending of minds on great religious questions much differing from each other on lesser points. In the field of religious and devotional literature, many of our church differences are lost sight of. Episcopalian congregations are constantly in the habit of joining with much cordiality and earnestness in singing hymns composed by authors nonconformists with our Church—in fact, of adopting them into their church service. These compositions form a portion of their worship, and are employed to illustrate and enforce their own most earnest doctrinal views and opinions themselves. How entirely are such compositions as the sacramental hymn, "My God, and is thy table spread," by Doddridge; the hymn, "When I behold the wondrous cross," by Isaac Watts, associated with our Church services! Nor are such feelings of adoption confined to poetical compositions. How many prose productions by non-Episcopalian authors might be introduced for the delight and benefit of Christian congregations! How eagerly many such compositions are read by members of our Church! With what delight would many discourses of this class have been listened to had they been delivered to Episcopalian congregations! Where such hymns and such discourses are admissible, the authors of them might take a part in conducting psalmody and in occupying the pulpit for preaching to a congregation. If the spirits of such writers as Doddridge, Watts, and Hall, have been felt to permeate and to influence the hearts of others who have heard or read their words of holiness and peace, we may well suppose that God would sanction their making like impressions, in his own house, upon the hearts of those whom they meet there face to face. Might they not communicate personally what they communicate through the press? For example, why should not Robert Hall have preached his sermons on Infidelity and on the Death of the Princess of Wales, perhaps the two most magnificent discourses in the language, in an English Cathedral? Why should not the beautiful astronomical discourses of Thomas Chalmers have been delivered in St. Paul's or in St. John's, Edinburgh? For many years, in want of better materials, the sermons of Dr. Blair were more used in the Church of England, and more read in private, than any similar compositions. It has been for years a growing persuasion in my own mind that principles of Christian love and mutual harmony are too often sacrificed to the desire of preserving the exact and formal marks of church order, as the Bishop of St. Andrews so happily expressed it to preserve etiquette. Surely the great law of Christian love would suggest and enforce a union at least of spirit amongst Christian believers, who cannot join in the unity of the same organisation. Inability to join in the same form of church polity and church order need not shut the door to religious sympathies and religious communion, where there are so many points of agreement and of mutual interest. The experience of the past will tend to produce the conviction that there has too often been in our religious disputes a strong tendency in all Christian denominations to make the great principle of love, which is a principle to rule in Heaven and for eternity, actually subservient and subordinate to a system of ecclesiastical order, which, important as it is for its own purposes and objects, never can be more than a guide to the ministration of the Church on earth, and an organisation which must be in its nature confined to time.

Wherever or whenever this feeling may be called forth, it is a grievous error—it is a very serious subject for our reflection, how far such want of sympathy and of union with those who do not belong immediately to our own church, must generate a feeling hostile to a due reception of an important article of our faith, termed in the Apostles' Creed the COMMUNION OF SAINTS. According to the description given by the judicious and learned Bishop Pearson, this communion or spiritual union belongs to all who are in New Testament language denominated SAINTS; by which he means all who, having been baptized in the faith, have this name by being called and baptized. Then he states all Christian believers to have communion and fellowship with these, whether living or dead. We should feel towards such persons (evidently, as the good Bishop implies, without reference to any particular church order) all sympathy and kindness as members of the same great spiritual family on earth, expectants of meeting in heaven in the presence of God and of the Lamb, and of joining in the worship of saints and angels round the throne. I have no hesitation in declaring my full conviction that such expectations of future communion should supply a very powerful and sacred motive for our cultivating all spiritual union in our power with all fellow-Christians, all for whom Christ died. It becomes a very serious subject for examination of our own hearts, how, by refusing any spiritual intercourse with Christians who are not strictly members of our own Church, we may contravene this noble doctrine of the Communion of Saints; for does not the bitterness with which sometimes we find all union with certain fellow-Christians in the Church on earth chill or check the feeling of a desire for union with the same in the Church above? Nay, is there not matter for men's earnest thought, how far the violent animosity displayed against the smallest approach to anything like spiritual communion with all Christians of a different Church from their own may chill the DESIRE itself for "meeting in the Church above?" Can hatred to meeting on earth be in any sense a right preliminary or preparation for desire to meet in Heaven? Nay, more, should we not carefully guard lest the bitter displays we see of religious hostility may even tend to bring men's minds towards a disinclination to meet in Heaven, of which the most terrible condition was thus expressed by Southey:—"Earth could not hold us both, nor can one heaven[194]."

One mark of any particular Church being a portion of Christ's Church on earth seems to be overlooked by some of our English friends, and that is a mark pointed out by our Lord himself, when he said, "By their FRUITS ye shall know them." By this announcement I would understand that besides and beyond a profession of the great articles of the Christian faith, I would, as a further criterion of a Christian church, inquire if there were many of its members who have been distinguished for their Christian piety, Christian learning, and Christian benevolence. Is all external communion to be interdicted with a church which has produced such men as we might name amongst the children of our Established and other Churches in Scotland? Look back upon half-a-century, and ask if a similar act with that of the Archbishop of York and Bishop of Winchester would then have created a like feeling. I can remember well the interest and admiration called forth by the eloquence, the philanthropy, and the moral fervour of Dr. Chalmers, amongst the High Church school of the day too—the good Archbiship Howley, Bishop Blomfield, Rev. Mr. Norris of Hackney, Mr. Joshua Watson, etc. I remember, too, the perfect ovation he received in the attendance of Archbishops, Bishops, Clergy, Peers, Princes, etc., of the great London world, at his lectures on Establishments. We can hardly imagine any one saying then, "This is all very well, but the Church that produced this man is no part of the true Church of Christ, and no English prelate or clergyman could possibly take service in it."

No one, I believe, who is acquainted with my own views and opinions on religious subjects would say that I look with indifference on those points wherein we differ from the great body of our fellow-countrymen. I am confident that I should not gain in the estimation of Presbyterians themselves by showing a cold indifference, or a lukewarm attachment, to the principles and practice of my own Church. They would see that my own convictions in favour of Episcopal government in the Church, and of liturgical services in her worship, were quite compatible with the fullest exercise of candour and forbearance towards the opinions of others—I mean on questions not essential to salvation.

I believe that there are persons amongst us coming round to this opinion, and who are ready to believe that it is quite possible for Christians to exercise very friendly mutual relations in spiritual matters which constitute the essential articles of a common faith, whilst they are in practice separated on points of ecclesiastical order and of church government. I am old, and shall not see it; but I venture to hope that, under the Divine blessing, the day will come when to Scotsmen it will be a matter of reminiscence that Episcopalians, or that Presbyterians of any denomination, should set the interests of their own communion above the exercise of that charity that for a brother's faith "hopeth all things and believeth all things." Zeal in promoting our own Church views, and a determination to advance her interests and efficiency, need be no impediment to cultivating the most friendly feelings towards those who agree with us in matters which are essential to salvation and who, in their differences from us, are, I am bound to believe, as conscientious as myself. Such days will come.

But now, to close my remarks on national peculiarities, with what I may term a practical and personal application. We have in our later pages adopted a more solemn and serious view of past reminiscences as they bear upon questions connected with a profession of religion. It is quite suitable then to recall the fact which applies individually to all our readers. We shall ourselves each of us one day become subject to a "reminiscence" of others. Indeed, the whole question at issue throughout the work takes for granted what we must all have observed to be a very favourite object with survivors—viz. that the characters of various persons, as they pass away, will be always spoken of, and freely discussed, by those who survive them. We recall the eccentric, and we are amused with a remembrance of their eccentricities. We admire the wise and dignified of the past. There are some who are recollected only to be detested for their vices—some to be pitied for their weaknesses and follies—some to be scorned for mean and selfish conduct. But there are others whose memory is embalmed in tears of grateful recollection. There are those whose generosity and whose kindness, whose winning sympathy and noble disinterested virtues are never thought upon or ever spoken of without calling forth a blessing. Might it not, therefore, be good for us often to ask ourselves how we are likely to be spoken of when the grave has closed upon the intercourse between us and the friends whom we leave behind? The thought might, at any rate, be useful as an additional motive for kind and generous conduct to each other. And then the inquiry would come home to each one in some such form as this—"Within the circle of my family and friends—within the hearts of those who have known me, and were connected with me in various social relations—what will be the estimate formed of me when I am gone? What will be the spontaneous impression produced by looking back on bygone intercourses in life? Will past thought of me furnish the memory of those who survive me with recollections that will be fond and pleasing?" In one word, let each one ask himself (I speak to countrymen and countrywomen), "Will my name be associated with gentle and happy 'REMINISCENCES OF SCOTTISH LIFE AND CHARACTER'?"

FOOTNOTES:

[191] Sterne, in one of his letters, describes his reading Tristram Shandy to his wife and daughter—his daughter copying from his dictation, and Mrs. Sterne sitting by and listening whilst she worked. In the life of Sterne, it is recorded that he used to carry about in his pocket a volume of this same work, and read it aloud when he went into company. Admirable reading for the church dignitary, the prebendary of York! How well adapted to the hours of social intercourse with friends! How fitted for domestic seclusion with his family!

[192] Scottish Guardian, vol. ii. No. ix. p. 305.

[193] "What is Religion?" a sermon by Rev. John Caird, D.D., Professor of Divinity in the University of Glasgow, and one of Her Majesty's Chaplains for Scotland. See especially concluding remarks.

[194] See Southey's Roderick, book xxi.



INDEX.

'Aaple,' bottle of beer strong o'. Abercairney, Laird of, prevented from going out in '15. Aberdeen dialect, perfect specimens of. Aberdeen elders, opinion of. Aberdeen provost, wife of, at the opera. Aberdeen, two ladies of, mutual recrimination. 'A bonnie bride's sune buskit.' Accommodation, grand, for snuff. 'Acts o' Parliament lose their breath before they get to Aberdeenshire.' Adam, Dr., Latin translation of Scottish expressions. Advice to a minister in talking to a ploughman. 'A gravesteen wad gie guid bree gin ye gied it plenty o' butter.' 'A hantle o' miscellawneous eating about a pig.' Airth, housekeeper at, on king of France. Alexander, Dr. W. Lindsay. 'And what the devil is it to you whether I have a liver or not?' Anecdotes of quaint Scottish character. Angel-worship is not allowed in the Church of Scotland. Angler and the horse-fly. 'Anither gude Sunday! I dinna ken whan I'll get thae drawers redd up.' 'Anither het day, Cornal.' 'An inch at the tap is worth twa at the boddam.' 'An I hadna been an idiot I micht hae been sleepin' too.' Annals of the parish, extracts from. Answer to stranger asking the way. Answers, dry, specimens of. 'A peer o' anither tree.' Appetite, farmer's reason for minister's good appetite. Asher, minister of Inveraven, anecdote of. Athole, Duke of, and Cultoquhey. Athole, Duke of, answer of his cottar. Auction, anecdote of spoon missing. Auld lang syne, beauty of the expression. Auld, Rev. Dr., of Ayr, and Rab Hamilton. Authors, older ones indecent. 'Ay, ir ye a' up an' awa?' 'Ay, she may prosper, for she has baith the prayers of the good and of the bad.'

Baby, a laddie or a lassie. Baird, Mrs., of Newbyth, remark of, as to her son in India. Balnamoon, laird of, carriage to haud in. Balnamoon, laird of, great drinker. Balnamoon, laird of, joke with his servant. Balnamoon, laird of, refuses his wig. Balnamoon, praying and drinking at. Banes, distinction of, by a beggar. Banes, Frasers weel-baned. Bannockburn, guide to, refusing an Englishman's five shillings. Bannockburn, Scottish remark upon. Baptism, minister and member of his flock. Barclay of Ury, M. P., walk to London Bathgate, mending the ways of Beadle, equivocal compliment to minister's sermons Beadle or Betheral, character of Beast, a stumbling, at least honest 'Becky and I had a rippit, for which I desire to be humble' Begg, Dr., on Scottish morality of the present day Beggar, expressing his thanks to a clerical patron Bellman of Craigie, notice from Bestial, curious use of word Betheral, a conceited one Betheral criticising a clergyman Betheral, criticism on a text Betheral, evidence of, regarding drinking Betheral, making love professionally Betheral, on a dog that was noisy Betheral, on the town bailies Betheral, Scottish, answer to minister on being drunk Betheral stories Betheral taking a dog out of church Betheral's answer to minister Betherals, conversation of two, regarding their ministers Blair, Rev. Dr. Hugh, and his beadle Blessing by Scottish Bishops, form of, become a reminiscence Blethering Boatie, character on Deeside Boatie of Deeside, and Providence Books, older ones indecent Border, selvidge, weakest bit of the wab Bowing to heritors Boy, anecdote of Braxfield, Lord, a man of wit Braxfield, Lord, character of, as a judge Braxfield, Lord, conducting the trial of Muir, Palmer, and Skirving, etc. Braxfield, Lord, delighted with reply of Scotch minister Braxfield, Lord, spoke the broadest Scotch Briggs, the sergeant, dry description of, by Scottish nobleman Brougham, Lord, on Scottish dialect Brown, Rev. John, and the auld wifie Brown, Rev. John of Whitburn, answer to rude youth Bruce, Mr., of Kinnaird, and Louis XVI. of France Buccleuch, Duchess of, asking farmer to take cabbage Bull, specimen of Scottish confusion of ideas 'Bulls of Bashan' applied by a lady to herself Burnett, Dr. Gilbert, Bishop of Salisbury Burnett, Sir Thomas, of Leys, and his tenant Drummy Burnett, Lady, of Leys Burns, a son of, and Charles Lamb Burns conducted family worship Burying-place, choice of Bush, conversation with minister in church Butler and Kincardineshire laird 'But my minnie dang, she did though' 'But oh, I'm sair hadden doun wi' the bubbly jock' 'But the bodies brew the braw drink'

CAMPBELL of Combie and Miss M'Nabb, anecdote of Campbell, Rev. Duncan, on Highland honours Camstraddale, the Dumbartonshire laird Canny, illustration of one of its meanings Canterbury, Archbishop of, and the Dollar man Carlyle, Dr., account of minister's drinking in last century Carlyle, Dr., prosecuted by General Assembly for attending theatre Carnegie, Miss Helen, of Craigo, anecdotes of Carnegie, Miss, of Craigo, and James III. and VIII. Carrier, a country, description of his journeys Catastrophe, whimsical application of the word 'Cauld kail het again' 'Ceevil,' in courtship, may be carried too far Cemeteries, treatment of, much changed Chalmers, Dr., poor woman's reason for hearing Chambers, Robert, Domestic Annals of Scotland. Change of national language involves change of national character. Changes, are they for the good of the whole community? Changes, example of, in an old Laird seeing a man at the pianoforte. Changes fast going on around us. Changes in Scottish manners and dialect. Changes, interesting to mark. Changes taking place, here noticed. Changes taking place in religious feeling. Changes, various causes for. Chaplain of a jail, humorous reasons for his appointment. Children, curious answers of. Children, very poor, examples of acuteness. Children's diseases. Church discipline in the Presbytery of Lanark. Churches, a coachman's reason for their increase. Churches, architect's idea of difference between two. Churches, handsome structure of, more common. Church discipline, old fashioned. Church-going of late neglected in towns. Church-going, Scotchmen not famous for, fifty years ago. Churchyard, drunken weaver in. Circuit, a drunken one. Circuit, one described by Lord Cockburn. Clergy, Gaelic, not judged severely on account of drinking. Clergyman footsore in grouse-shooting. Clergyman publicly rebuking his wife. Clerk, John, address to presiding judge. Clerk, John, answer to Lord Chancellor. Clerk, John, apology for friend in Court of Session. Cockburn, Lord, and the Bonaly shepherd. Cockburn, Lord, on Scottish changes. Cockburn's Memorials, extracts from. Collie dogs, sagacity of. 'Come awa, Jeanie; here's a man swearin' awfully.' 'Come awa, granny, and gang hame; this is a lang grace and nae meat.' 'Come oot and see a new star that hasna got its tail cuttit aff yet.' Confession of faith. Confirmation, anecdotes concerning. Constable, Thomas, anecdote of spare lady. Conviviality, old Scottish, and forced. Conviviality, Scotch, complaint of, by a London merchant. Corb, and Sir George Ramsay. Corehouse, Lord, prediction of not rising at the bar, by a Selkirk writer. 'Corp's brither' at a funeral. Cottar's Saturday night, fine picture. Country minister and his wife, large bed. Craigie, Rev. Mr., and Jamie Fleeman. Craigmyle, Laird of, and Duchess of Gordon. Cranstoun, George, Lord Corehouse. Cream, Billy, landlord of inn at Laurencekirk, and Lord Dunmore. Cross, curious meaning attached to. 'Cry a'thegither, that's the way to be served.' Cumming, Dr. Patrick, convivial clergyman. Cumming, Miss, of Altyre, and Donald MacQueen. Cumnock, volunteers of. Cultoquhey, old Laird of, morning litany. Cutty-stool, former use of.

Daft person, his choice of money. Dale, David, anecdotes of his servant. Dalhousie, Lady. Dam-brod pattern table-cloth. Dancing, seceder's opinion of. Darkness, what is it? Davie, chiel that's chained to. Davy Gellatleys, many in the country. Death, circumstances of, coolly treated. Death of a sister described by old lady. Decrees of God, answer of old woman. Degrees sold at northern universities. Delicacy of recent authors compared with older. Dewar, David, Baptist minister at Dunfermline. Dialects, distinctions on Scottish. Dialect, Scottish, real examples of. Dialects, provosts, Aberdeen and Edinburgh. Diamond Beetle case. Difference between an Episcopalian and a Presbyterian minister. Diminutives, terms of endearment. Discreet, curious use of word. Diseases of children, odd names for. 'Div ye no ken there's aye maist sawn o' the best crap?' Dochart, same as Macgregor. Dog story. 'Doggie, doggie,' address of idiot to a greyhound. Dogs in church, anecdotes of. Donald, Highland servant. Donkey, apology of his master for putting him into a field. Downie, minister of Banchory, and son's marriage. Drams in Highlands, anecdotes of. Dream of idiot in town of Ayr, and apostle Peter. Drinking, apology for. Drinking at Balnamoon. Drinking at Castle Grant. Drinking, challenge against, by Mr. Boswell of Balmuto. Drinking parties of Saturday sometimes took in Sunday. Drinking party, 'lad employed to lowse the neckcloths.' Drinking party, quantity consumed by. Drinking reckoned an accomplishment. Drinking, supposed manliness attached to. Drovers drinking in Highlands. Drumly, happy explanation of. Drummond of Keltie, answer to itinerant tailor. Dunbar, Sir Archibald, account of a servant. Dundas, Henry, and Mr. Pitt. Dundrennan, Lord, anecdote of a silly basket-woman. Dunlop, Rev. Walter, address to Dr. Cook of St. Andrews. Dunlop, Rev. Walter, and Mr. Clarke's big head. Dunlop, Rev. Walter, man of racy humour. Dunlop, Rev. Walter, meeting flock of geese. Dunlop, Rev. Walter, on a taciturn brother. Dunlop, Rev. Walter, and mischievous youths in kirk-yard. Dunlop, Rev. Walter, answer to two young men. Dunlop, Rev. Walter, opinion of Edward Irving. Dunmore, Lord, and Billy Cream. 'D'ye think I dinna ken my ain groats in ither folk's kail?'

East Lothian minister and his betheral taking degrees at a northern college. Economy, specimen of Scottish. Edinburgh and Aberdeen provosts. 'E'ening brings a' hame,' expressed by Lord Byron. Eglinton, Earl of, and little boy. 'Eh, man, your Psalm buik has been ill bund.' 'Eh, Miss Jeany! ye have been lang spared.' Eldin, Lord (John Clerk), anecdotes of. Election, answer of minister to question. Elphinstone, Lord, and minister of Cumbernauld. Endearment, Scottish terms of. Englishman, an impruived. Enterteening, curious use of word. Episcopalian chapels, anecdote of Sir W. Forbes. Erskine, Colonel, servant proposes an aith for his relief. Erskine, Hon. Henry, dinner party at Lord Armadale's. Erskine, Mr., of Dun, and his old servant. Erskine of Dun, Miss. Estate giving the name to proprietor. Examinations of communicants Expressions, old Scottish, and modern slang contrasted Expressions, specimens of Scottish

Factors, proposal to sow field with 'Fah tee, fah tee' Fail, curious use of word Family worship now more common Family worship, remark upon Farmer and servant boy Farmer, answer of, when asked to take rhubarb tart Farmer, cool answer regarding notes Farmer on Deeside and bottle of vinegar Farmer refusing a dessert spoon Farmer, Scottish, conversation with English girl Farms, giving names to the tenants Fash as to taking a wife Fast-day, national, strictness in observing 'Fat for should I gang to the opera just to creat a confeesion?' Fencing tables, by an old minister Fencing the deil Fergusson of Pitfour and London lady Fettercairn, custom of bowing to heritors Fife elder and penurious laird Fife, Lord, proposal to, by an idiot 'Fin' a fardin' for yersell, puir body' Finzean, Laird of, swearing Fisher of men Fit raiment, explanation of, by child Fleeman, Jamie, anecdote of Fleeman, Jamie, the Laird of Udny's fool, life of, published 'Floorish o' the surface,' to describe a preacher Forbes, Mrs., of Medwyn, fond of tea Forbes's banking-house, anecdotes of 'Formerly robbers, now thieves' Frail, curious use of word Fraser, Jamie, address to minister in kirk Fraser, Jamie, idiot of Lunan Free Church, road of, 'tolls unco high' 'Freet's dear! sin' I sauld freet in streets o' Aberdeen' French people, a clause in their favour, by a Scottish minister Fruit, abstinence from, by minister Fullerton, Miss Nelly, anecdote of Funeral, anecdote of, in Strathspey Funeral, carrying at, or leaning Funeral, extraordinary account of a Scottish, at Carluke Funeral of a laird of Dundonald Funeral, reason for a farmer taking another glass at Funeral, reason for a person being officious at Funeral, taking orders for, on deathbed Funeral, the coffin forgotten at

Galloway Lady declining drink Gardenstone, Lord, and his book at the inn Gardenstone, Lord, and his pet pig Gardenstone, Lord, exertions of, for Laurencekirk Gardenstone, Lord, keeping snuff in his waistcoat pocket Gardenstone, Lord, personal reminiscences of Garskadden, Laird of, 'steppit awa' at table General Assembly, minister's prayer for George III., sickness of, advantageous to candlemakers Ghost appearing to Watty Dunlop Gilchrist, Dr., answer to young minister on Lord's Prayer Gilchrist, Dr., answer to one of his hearers, who had changed his religion Gillespie, Professor, and village carpenter Gillespie, Rev. Mr., and old woman sleeping when he preached Glasgow Cathedral, betheral's opinion of Glasgow lady and carpenter Glasgow, toast after dinner, hint to the ladies Glenorchy, Lady, and the elder at the plate at Caprington Glenorchy, Lady, removal of her remains on account of railroad Gordon, Duchess of Gordon, Duchess of, and the laird of Craigmyle Gordon, Lady Susan, and David Tulloch Graham, Miss Clementina Stirling, Mystifications by Grave, making love at Gregory, Dr., story of Highland chief Grieve in Aberdeenshire, opinion of own wife Grieve, on Deeside, opinion of young man's preaching 'Gude coorse country work' Gudewife on Deeside Guthrie, Helen, and her husband Guy Mannering, extract from

HADDOCK, curious use of word 'Halbert, smells damnably of the' Hamilton, Laird, at the palace asking the servant to sit down Hamilton, Laird, noted for eccentricity Hamilton, Laird, reasons for not signing a bill Hamilton Rab, an idiot at Ayr Hamilton, Rab, idiot, anecdotes of Hangman, Scotch drover acting as Harvest, returning thanks for good Hatter at Laurencekirk Heaven, little boy's refusal of Heaven, old woman's idea of 'He bud tae big's dyke wi' the feal at fit o't' He is awfu' 'supperstitious' 'He turned Seceder afore he dee'd, and I buried him like a beast' 'Hech, sirs, and he's weel pat on, too' 'Henny pig and green tea' Heritor sending the hangman of Stirling to pay the minister Heritors, bowing to Hermand, Lord, great drinker, but first-rate lawyer Hermand, Lord, jokes with young advocate Hermand, Lord, opinion of drinking Highland chairman Highland chief, story of Highland gentleman, first time in London Highland honours Highland inquisitiveness Highlands kept up the custom of clans or races Hill, Dr., Latin translation of Scottish expressions His girn's waur than his bite Holy communion, several anecdotes concerning Home, John, author of Douglas, lines on port wine Home, John, remark of, to David Hume 'Honest men and bonnie lassies' 'Honest woman, what garr'd ye steal your neighbour's tub?' Honesty declared the best policy, why? Honeyman's, Mrs., answer to Henry Erskine's impromptu lines 'Hoot! jabbering bodies, wha could understan' them?' 'Horse the length of Highgate' Hospitals, changes in Hot day, cool remark on 'Hout, that is a kind o' a feel' Hume, David, refused assistance except on conditions Hume, Mrs., 'Too poor' Humour of Scotch language Humour, Scottish, described in Annals of the Parish Humour, Scottish, description of Hymns ancient and modern

'I DIDNA ken ye were i' the toun' Idiot boy and penurious uncle Idiot boy, pathetic story of one receiving communion Idiot in Lauder, cheating the seceders Idiot in Peebles church Idiot, musical one at Stirling, appropriate tune Idiot of Lauder, and Lord Lauderdale's steward Idiot, pathetic complaint of, regarding bubbly jock Idiot, why not asleep in church Idiots, Act of Parliament concerning Idiots, fondness for attending funerals Idiots, parish, often very shrewd 'I druve ye to your marriage, and I shall stay to drive ye to your burial' 'If there's an ill text in a' the Bible, that creetur's aye sure to tak it.' 'If you dinna ken whan ye've a gude servant, I ken whan I've a gude place.' 'I hae cuist'n my coat and waistcoat, and faith I dinna ken how lang I can thole my breeks.' 'I just fan' a doo in the redd o' my plate.' 'I'll hang ye a' at the price.' 'I maun hae a lume that'll haud in.' 'I'm unco yuckie to hear a blaud o' your gab.' Inch-byre banes. 'Indeed, sir, I wish I wur.' India, St. Andrew's day kept in, by Scotchmen. 'I never big dykes till the tenants complain.' Innes, Jock, remark upon hats and heads. Innkeeper's bill, reason for being moderate. Interchange of words between minister and flock in church. Intercourse between classes changed. 'I soopit the pu'pit.' 'It's a peety but ye had been in Paradise, and there micht na hae been ony faa'.' 'It's no the day to be speerin sic things.' 'I've a coo noo.' 'I was just stan'ing till the kirk had skailed.' 'I was not juist sae sune doited as some o' your Lordships.' 'I wouldna gie my single life for a' the double anes I ever saw.'