J
 
 Ex Ubris 
 C. K. OGDEN
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN KELSO HUNTER, 
 
 ARTIST,' 
 
 AUTHOB OP THE " RETROSPECT OF AN ARTIST'S LIFE : MEMORIALS 
 
 OF WEST COUNTRY MEN -AND MANNERS OF THE 
 
 PAST HALF CENTURY." 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO. 
 
 EDINBURGH : OLIVER AND BOYD. GLASGOW : DAVID ROBERTSON. 
 
 KILMAKNOCK : M'KIE. AYR : MACLEHOSE. 
 
 GREENOCK : D. L. POLLOCK. 
 
 1871.
 
 GREENOCK : 
 
 PRINTED BY ORR, POLLOCK AND CO., 
 CHARLES STREET.
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN KELSO HUNTER, 
 
 ARTIST, 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE " RETROSPECT OP AN ARTIST'S LIFE : MEMORIALS 
 
 OF WEST COUNTRY MEN AND MANNERS OF THE 
 
 PAST HALF CENTURY." 
 
 LONDON : SIMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO. 
 
 EDINBURGH : OLIVER AND BOYD. GLASGOW : DAVID ROBERTSON. 
 
 KILMARNOCK : M'KIE. AYR : MACLEHOSE. 
 
 GREENOCK : D. L. POLLOCK.
 
 GREENOCK : 
 
 PRINTED BY ORB, POLLOCK AND CO., 
 CHARLES STREET.
 
 DEDICA TION. 
 
 TOM HOOD, eldest-lorn of my youngest daughter, 
 to you I dedicate this look : 
 
 A Tom Hood lefore your day made a legacy of 
 his mind to the world : 
 
 That you may so improve your talents as to make 
 the world letter ly your presence, is the sincere desire 
 of your Grandfather, 
 
 JOHN KELSO HUNTER. 
 
 15th December, 1870. 
 
 1059622
 
 COURTEOUS BEADER, 
 
 I was at the school wi' Bell Smith, her 
 description of which will serve us baith. " Grammar," 
 quo' she, " wasna invented then ; and as for dictionary 
 words, we kent naething aboot them. We first got 
 the ABC, then the Keedy-ma-deezy, syne the Pro- 
 verbs, Barrie's Collection, and the Bible. Whatever 
 lesson we began to, we gaed at it just like a kemp on 
 the hairst rig: we began at the point next us, and 
 reel'd on till we cam' to the far end. Them that 
 read fastest and loudest were thought to be the best 
 scholars. Meanings were never thought aboot." 
 
 The spirit of this early education may be apparent 
 throughout the present book, but there are as few 
 blunders in't as I could help. 
 
 Thine, 
 
 THE AUTHOR
 
 Introduction. 
 
 MEN have lived and died under the impression that their 
 actions when living were either unnoticed or unworthy of 
 being recorded. Such actors are among the heroes I mean 
 to honour in this book, making them teachers of people 
 who seem to think themselves above the power of pulpit, 
 press, or past experience. To such I will act as cook, and 
 dish up some of the spiritual genius of my native district. 
 
 At one time I intended to have offered the dedication 
 of the book to the Very Rev. Dean Ramsay of Edinburgh, 
 or Professor David Masson, for their marked attention to 
 my first effort as an author. Expressing my thanks to 
 them, and many others, is all I can now afford. Time 
 passes, and youths press to the front. As a duty, I have 
 dedicated the volume to my grandson for his father's kind- 
 ness to me when suffering from ill health. 
 
 In the first chapter the author will introduce himself 
 to his readers. 
 
 " I winna blaw about mysel'." BURNS. 
 
 On the twenty-ninth anniversary of the day on which I 
 left Kilmarnock with my family, my old son, then a mis- 
 sionary in Paisley, paid me a visit in Glasgow. In his 
 hand he carried an old muslin pattern book weighing 14 
 Ib. " Hey, father," said he, " there is paper to write your 
 next book on." I took the present, and, after thanking
 
 him, spread the ponderous volume on the table before ine. 
 Gazing for a time at the front of the yet unsullied page, 
 wondering what I would say first, the sky became gloomy, 
 the room grew dark, the massive field of white paper 
 stared like a spectre amid the darkness ; a brilliant flash 
 of lightning gleamed on and illuminated the pure surface, 
 leaving me in a state of eclipse for a time; a terrific 
 crash of thunder followed momentarily after the flash, 
 and the house seemed as if rumbling to ruins. Then said 
 I, " Typical of the moment, let the spirit of the book be 
 vivid and rumbling." 
 
 Sixty years of a lifetime will be embodied in its pages 
 looking, listening, and sometimes talking with my 
 heroes, treating them with great respect, and setting them 
 before my readers in a kindly light ; and for the sake of 
 those who know me not, I will first introduce the author 
 sixty years back.
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 Page 
 
 EARLY LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, - 1 
 
 HISTORY OF THE AUTHOR CONTINUED, 10 
 
 BURNS'S CHARACTERS, 16 
 
 A GLOSSARY CORRECTED, - 25 
 
 HORNBOOK AND A NICHT wi' BURNS, 30 
 
 A PASSAGE ILLUSTRATED, 37 
 
 QUEER PICTURES OF A PAST TIME, 42 
 
 FRUITLESS INVESTIGATIONS, 48 
 
 JOHN M'GHEE THE PROPHET, 55 
 
 ,A. RADICAL REFORMER, - - 61 
 
 A BEGGARMAN'S MEETING, 72 
 
 DISEASE IN A BASKET, - - 80 
 
 A FIRST VISITATION, 90 
 DAVID BERRIE, _.---- 92 
 
 ENGLISH JAMIE, - - - - - - 99 
 
 ROBERT OWEN, - - - - - - 107 
 
 THE WOUNDS OF A FRIEND, - - - - 117 
 
 THE PORTRAIT AND THE DISCIPLE, - - - 123 
 
 WILLIAM CAMERON (" HAWKIE "), - - - 129 
 
 HAWKIE AS A LECTURER, - - - - - . 139 
 
 HAWKIE AS A WIT, 147 
 
 WILLIAM FULTON OF GLENFIELD, - 153 
 
 WILLIAM FULTON CONTINUED 164 
 
 A DOCTOR'S STORY, - 172 
 
 THE PITH o' PRAYER, - - - - - - 184
 
 I'. . 
 
 AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER, 188 
 
 THE PRESENTATION, - 194 
 
 FAMILY WORSHIP IN FORMER DATS, 200 
 
 A LITERARY ASPIRANT, - 207 
 
 JOHN TAYLOR : HOW HE BECAME AN ARTIST, 214 
 
 AN ARTISTIC DEVELOPMENT, - 217 
 
 COMBE ON THE CONSTITUTION OF WOMAN, 222 
 
 DISTURBING INFLUENCES, - 226 
 
 BREAKING THE PLEDGE, - - 231 
 
 SPEECH AND ACTION, 234 
 
 WILLIE FULTON ON TEETOTAL LECTURING, - 237 
 
 A WALK AND A TALK WITH A POET, - - 241 
 
 SPOKEN FRAE THE HEART, - 246 
 
 THE COBBLER'S DREAM, 248 
 
 OLD RADDOCH THE ARTIST, - 254 
 
 DEATH OF WILLIE PORTER'S CAT, - ' - 256 
 
 TRUE DIGNITY, - . 259 
 
 IRISH LADIES AT HOME, ... 264 
 
 SMA' BIT OF HOME HISTORY, - - 209 
 
 THE AULD KIRK CAT, - . . 276 
 
 THE LAST SPEAKER CONTINUED, - - - 282 
 
 PUTTING ON THE WIG, - ... 285 
 
 WONNERFU' SATISFACTION, - . . 294 
 
 INCREASING THE TRAFFIC, - - - , . 300 
 
 IN MEMORIAM, . 303 
 
 VALEDICTORY, 304
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 EARLY LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 IN early life, as a herd boy, I associated wi' brutes. 
 The innocence and beauty of pastoral life, as 
 sung and painted, even then seemed to me fuller 
 of fancy than fact. I had no dog, which helped to 
 embitter my position. The cattle wanted liberty; 
 so did I. Thus far we were of one mind, yet their 
 waywardness disturbed my repose even when trying 
 all appliances within my reach, such as whistling, 
 singing, and reading. I got an auld flute, but could 
 bring no music out of it. 
 
 Among my stock of books was a small one entitled 
 " The History of Little Jack," who in his time had 
 been a herd and a genius to boot. He had been 
 nursed by a goat. A picture in the front showed 
 Jack in the act of sucking the goat; there they lay, 
 heads and thraws, something enviable to look at. I 
 wished that it had been my lot to have had a goat in
 
 2 LITE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 my flock. Although at this time I had never seen 
 one in the flesh, I had seen the pictures of " Johnny 
 Morgan riding on a Goat/' and Jack sucking one; 
 hence I naturally concluded that there must be 
 something grand in the nature of an animal so docile, 
 and that it was no ordinary beast. I had in my flock 
 an auld cow whause namely face pleased me much;, 
 she was quiet and fond of being scarted. I got an 
 auld wool caird, and with it I gave her a daily clean- 
 ing, which process she seemed to enjoy. When she 
 would see me with the caird she came forward and 
 began to lick her lips, which indication of being 
 pleased she continued during the process of carding. 
 
 My auld cow was bought frae John Hay, Palstone, 
 in the parish of Dundonald, and when she came home 
 was named after the farm she had left. One day as 
 she lay down to rest, I said, " 0, Palstone, had ye been 
 a goat, I wad hae lain down beside you, and, like 
 little Jack, demanded to be nursed." I began to 
 think that a cow might make as good a nurse as a 
 goat, so I contrived, in a fashion, to imitate my poor 
 namesake, the cow making no resistance, but, on the 
 contrary, seeming quite pleased with the performance. 
 After that, whenever I used to approach her with 
 the caird, she expected to be milked. 
 
 At milking time my auld cow began to refuse let- 
 ting down her milk to the dairymaid, and kicked at 
 her like a savage, which was a new feature in her
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 3 
 
 character. The milk began to leave her prematurely, 
 which was in due course reported to the owner. 
 Could John Hay really have been so mean and base 
 as impose on the Colonel ? A council was held, a 
 complaint was sent to Palstone, a referee was ap- 
 pointed who could not account for the fact, but 
 she was all right when sold, and there was nothing 
 left but to fatten the cow and kill her. I stood be- 
 side the council, and heard the sentence of death 
 passed on my auld Men'. I felt a pang at my heart 
 when the cow doctor said, " She'll mak' prime beef I" 
 The unconscious beast stood looking in my face, 
 chewing her cud. I could have pled for her and told 
 the cause, but I resolved to yield my personal share 
 in the milk business and give her a chance for her 
 life. At milking time I stood beside her with the 
 auld caird, currying her hide at intervals, when she 
 soon returned to her former worth, and the cause of 
 her failure still remained a mystery. She was re- 
 prieved, and I was pleased. 
 
 I began to look after other ways of getting milk, 
 and used sometimes to make a raid on the milkhouse, 
 in the window of which were three lozens which 
 opened with hinges, and for the sake of air had gauze 
 wire instead of glass. With a small wire I could undo 
 the sneck inside, and, opening one of the lozens from 
 the outside, I introduced my head and was delighted 
 to see the sour cream crock sitting below my nose,
 
 4 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 but ower far down to reach. I repeated the charmed 
 word used in the "Forty Thieves" open sesame 
 when the window opened; but a new word was 
 needed to bring up the cream. I made a study as to 
 how it was to reach the mouth; I went in to the 
 kitchen, got an iron spoon, bent its handle ladle form, 
 and fixed it firmly to an oak twig; thus equipped, the 
 head was again introduced and the invention spoon 
 applied. A surfeit was easily and readily attained: 
 greed had one hearty meal of fat things. I had 
 dribbled the window-sole without observing it. I 
 returned next day for a second feed, but the crock 
 was shifted out of my reach. A second study was 
 essential as to how I might bring some sweet cream 
 from the tops of the . boynes which sat on shelves at 
 a greater distance from the window. Another spoon 
 was got with a longer handle, and keepit straight ; 
 when reaching far in the tremulous motion dribbled 
 the floor from the side of the boyne to the window. 
 The earnestness with which I plied my spoon and 
 the delight with which I gave welcome to every 
 mouthful was great. I had often heard that they 
 wad need lang shanket spoons wha supped wi' the 
 De'il. I thought my spoon quite up to the mark, and 
 it at the same time struck me that it was in his ser- 
 vice that I was supping. As far as the shank o' the 
 spoon was concerned, I was a match for him. I began 
 to look at my position, and blamed the De'il for urging
 
 LIFE STUDIES OP CHARACTER 5 
 
 me on to housebreaking and robbery ; but, in spite of 
 all reasoning, where appetite is, philosophy is not. 
 
 Next day I made another attempt for a cream feast, 
 but found the window fastened. I came in to the 
 boot-hole, the place where the shoes were cleaned, 
 and while engaged in cleaning some of the servants' 
 shoes, I heard a rather animated conversation going 
 on in the kitchen. I listened, and heard that it was 
 the cream question. The old housekeeper was of 
 opinion that it was nae ither body but Jock. The 
 cook said that it was liker to be him than the cat 
 The dairymaid said that there was an auld saying 
 that when the cat gets a road to the kirn, its ill keep- 
 ing it frae't. She was strongly inclined to believe 
 that it was the cat, yet there were no footmarks of 
 either beast or body. She had carefully washed the 
 floor so as she more easily might see footmarks. She 
 had shifted the sour cream crock frae below the win- 
 dow, put a board on the mouth o't and a stane on the 
 tap o't, and the cat or what else it might be had 
 yoked on the sweet cream, and licket holes out o' 
 different boynes, and dribbled a' the floor from the 
 shelves to the window; and unless the beast had 
 fa'en into the dish, she couldna see how the dribbling 
 could tak place. However, a strict watch was to be 
 keepit, to get some light on the deeds o' darkness. 
 Various surmises were entered upon, but the thing 
 seemed to lie between the cat and Jock ! He was
 
 6 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 nae doot a mischievous callant, but there was really 
 something mysterious in this wark that they wad a' 
 like to be at the bottom o'. The unfortunate cat at 
 this moment came into the boot-hole, and rubbing 
 itself up against the bran o' my leg, lookit up in my 
 face, giving a pleasing mew. The thought struck me ; 
 " Now, puss, you and I for it ; so come away and see 
 whether you or I are likest a thief." I took baudrons 
 in my arms, and she sang three threeds and a thrum 
 all the way to the window, which soon yielded to 
 pressure. I gave the mysterious paseword, open 
 sesame ; and, looking in, had the pleasure to discover 
 the sour cream crock in its old place, with the board 
 and stone on its mouth, a guarantee against the 
 efforts of an ordinary cat. I got a sturdy stick, with 
 which I soon removed the covering, and there the 
 crock yawn'd brim fou o' cream. I took my Men' 
 the cat by the neck, and held her above the fat fluid 
 into which she was soon to be engulphed. She made 
 serious objections by wriggling and kicking, and 
 would rather not have been introduced in at the 
 window. However, I told her that it was no use, for 
 I would give her all the honour as to being a beast of 
 good taste. In she must go. A lull took place in her 
 motion, her tail alone wriggling like a serpent. I let 
 go my hold, and down she went stern on. She made 
 a seizure at the edge of the crock, but missing the 
 catch, sunk over the head all but about the size of a
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 7 
 
 penny piece around one eye. She being a grey cat, 
 it gave her one eye a luminous aspect ; it seemed 
 enlarged and pointedly sharp. Anybody who saw 
 her go in at the window could not have imagined 
 she was the same beast as she came out. It was a 
 rapid transmigration case. She became bewildered, 
 spat and jumped, ran, sat, and licked herself by 
 turns, till she reached the kitchen where the consul- 
 tation had been so lately and doubtfully carried on. 
 Doubt was now at an end ; with a shout they all 
 joined in saying, " There's the thief." It was deemed 
 by them a providence, as putting the saddle on the 
 right horse. Jock, puir thing, being so often in mis- 
 chief, was here innocently blamed. I walked away 
 into the kitchen with a pair of shoes I had been 
 brushing, and in the most innocent manner set them 
 down. When the cat saw me come in, she made a 
 hasty retreat below the kitchen table. My auld 
 aunty said, " Cat, you may weel be ashamed o* your- 
 sel ; its nae wonner ye canna look the honest callant 
 in the face." " Jock," quo she, " I was just blaming 
 you for a dirty kind o' stealing, but there's the thief, 
 and really its a great warning for fo'k to be guarded 
 as to who they blame for onything." I here offered to 
 hang the cat, which offer was rejected. 
 
 My treatment of the cat seemed even to myself 
 rascally bad ; first saddling it with my crime, then 
 offering to take its life, was villainously treacherous.
 
 8 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 It comes often up yet as a specimen of ingratitude 
 with which we are apt to treat our best friends. Thus 
 my thoughtless conduct had nearly brought a cow and 
 cat to a hurried end. 
 
 Dogs are proverbial for faithfulness, yet among 
 them there seem to be exceptions. Colonel Kelso 
 received a white pup, said to be of a rare breed of . 
 sheep dogs. He came from a place called Bungay, 
 hence in his infancy he got that name from us, as 
 he was sent to board with my mother, and in fact 
 was one of the family. I looked forward to the 
 tune when I would have his help as a herd, and 
 the pleasure of the pastoral life brightened anew. 
 Bungay was a member of our family for six months, 
 and great was the grief on the morning that he was 
 torn from us. He was to be schooled in Galloway on 
 some sheep farm. His name was changed to Bruin, 
 as he had an outward resemblance to a white bear, 
 had no tail, and white as a sheep. Bruin had been 
 six months at school, but letters came from time to 
 time stating that nothing good could come out of him. 
 He was sent home. Some had hinted that this bad 
 report was to jew the Colonel out of a great treasure. 
 Bruin reached Dankeith on a Saturday night, and was 
 tied up in a stall with a firm but short rope. Early 
 on the Sabbath morning Geordie and I were up from 
 our beds and down to the stables. We were warned 
 before going to the stable to keep back from him, else
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 9 
 
 he would tear us. We could fancy no such disposition 
 in our Bruin. Opening the door, we rushed in, shout- 
 ing, "0, Bruin," "0, Bungay." He sat up, and with 
 an awful fiend's face, looked at us ; then as we neared 
 him he made a bounce at us, nearly upsetting us, and 
 with a savageness not to be described he would have 
 devoured us where we stood. We tried to bring back 
 life's morning to his recollection ; it was of no use, 
 he was savagely inexorable. We stood and looked in 
 each other's faces, and said "That's no our Bungay." 
 As a last chance for a renewal of friendship, we said 
 time about " Bungay, this is Geordie and me ;" and 
 Geordie, in his turn, said, " This is Jock and me, ha'e 
 ye forgotten us ?" . We took a last look, and left him. 
 He was sent back to England, where he worried 
 some sheep and threatened to devour the herd also, 
 for which offence he was hanged. When we heard 
 of his tragical end, we said that he deserved it. It 
 has a saddening effect on a boy to lose a dog's favour. 
 The ingratitude of that beast comes up often against 
 him, even after a period of sixty years.
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE AUTHOR CONTINUED. 
 
 TTTHEN a boy I had a mortal antipathy to the 
 VV French and the Irish, as being our natural 
 enemies, only waiting a chance to cut our throats. 
 I was an excellent listener, had a good memory, was 
 fond of hearing arguments about religion, still reser- 
 ving the casting vote for myself. I remember one 
 day standing beside John M'Lennan, who was an 
 Irishman, and wha fo'k said was a Eoinan Catholic. 
 The fo'k said about John, that you never heard him 
 say anything because the priest said it. John always 
 gave his own reason for thinking or saying his say. 
 Hugh Donaldson was a truly pious Christian, who 
 never said a thing because he thought it. He pre- 
 faced all his speeches with " Our minister was saying 
 such and such things," which cleared him from the 
 presumption of thinking for himself. One day I 
 stood beside the two while they were scouring a dyke 
 sheugh. Hugh broke silence first by saying, " Man, 
 John, I'm truly sorry to think that a sensible man 
 like you should believe in a purgatory." " Oh," said 
 John, wi' a lang face, " I don't now, Hugh. I once 
 did ; but I have got my eyes opened on that subject."
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 11 
 
 "Oh, man, John, but I'm glad of that ; and who cam' 
 ye to get new light on the nonsense ? " " The priest 
 informed me," said John ! " Dear me," said Hugh, 
 " I thought the priest tried to keep you in the dark 
 on the likes o' these subjects." " Well," said John, 
 "he was obliged to tell us the truth, as he wanted a 
 large collection to get things put right again. You 
 know, Hugh, that at the best of times there was only 
 a brick partition between the two places, and that 
 purgatory was a place to take physic in, that the 
 souls might be purged before going into heaven. 
 You know, Hugh, that no unclean thing can enter 
 there. Well, at one time, a great squad of Highlanders 
 who had been slain in a battle were put into pur- 
 gatory, and they all of them had the yeuk, that is, 
 the scaw or itch. They were all handcuffed, so as 
 they could not get scarting ; and while rubbing them- 
 selves against the brick partition, the pressure was 
 too great for the dry state of the mortar with which 
 the partition had been put up, and down it went like 
 thunder ; and there the bricks are lying ; so at the 
 present the two places are into one, and our priest 
 was just calling on me to subscribe and get the places 
 put right." Hugh gave a sigh, and said, " Bless me, 
 John, and do you really believe in sic nonsense ? " 
 " Well, Hugh, you know that, like you, we must be- 
 lieve in what is told us by our teachers." Hugh 
 paused, then put an important question: "Well, John,
 
 12 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 tell me how it conies that Ireland, being sic a fine 
 country and so many good fo'k in it, how is it sic 
 trash comes this way ? " " Well, Hugh, that can be 
 easily accounted for also. You know that the Devil 
 riddles Ireland twice a year, and the bad ones who 
 will not go through the riddle he just pitches them 
 over here ! Hence you see that keeps Ireland whole- 
 some and pollutes Scotland ; with the dirt of your 
 own country and the trash of Ireland being mixed, 
 they produce a bad people." Hugh looked, and said 
 with a sigh, " John, you're too deep for me ! ! ! " 
 
 I came home brimful of wonder, and laid the state 
 of affairs in the nether world before my mother, who 
 stared at my new information and began seriously to 
 alter its shape back to the good old bottomless pit 
 the way she herself had been taught, and the faith 
 essential to take me past the gulph was largely dwelt 
 on. A book of sermons, by Ralph Erskine, was 
 handed me to read, which I did, and with a recommen- 
 dation I was to read it to Susy and Davie on Sunday 
 when she was at the kirk. I had a notion that it 
 would look better to be read from a pulpit, so I built 
 up a pyramid of stools, whaumlin a big stool on the 
 top. Thus prepared with a place to preach from, I 
 got added to the congregation the five children of 
 Miller Cameron, on the outside of whose heads I had 
 manipulated before. I had often thought that it was 
 curious how savage the schoolmaster went about his
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 13 
 
 task with taws and switches to load his hearers with 
 knowledge, while the minister just stood talkin', and 
 often Ms scholars half asleep. I thought it would be 
 a great improvement to use the switch in the kirk as 
 well as the school. With this new mode of sowing 
 the seed I ascended the pulpit with a goodly-sized 
 switch in my hand, and shaking it at the audience 
 before opening the book, I charged them to listen and 
 to believe all that I read, and if they did not, an 
 application of the rod would be essential. I paused, 
 and enquired if they all were believing what I was 
 reading, when the whole audience burst out into a 
 fit of laughter too much for any minister to stand; so 
 in preparing hurriedly to descend with the switch, 
 down came the whole fabric to the floor, and there 
 lay among the stools the minister, the switch, and 
 Ralph Erskine. 
 
 I always preferred listening to history instead 
 of reading it for myself. The pictorial power of 
 the story took better shape on the mind, and I 
 had a good memory, retaining all the beauty and 
 truthfulness with which our forefathers and mothers 
 gave out the traditions they in turn had heard. 
 Truth has a fine brand on its face which makes 
 it easily recognised, and if well spiced with the 
 imaginative, is sufficient to insure belief, in such 
 a shape that you dare not question its source ; 
 then the more of the wonderful the better. My
 
 14 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 mother was full of Carrick lore: where the deevil 
 and the witches held sway over the ministers of 
 the gospel in the good old times, when it was 
 they and they alone wha had the say in the 
 parish. Wicked Culzean was a hero of pith in the 
 deevil's service, but, like other heroes, he had to die, 
 and great pomp was at his burial; the deevil cam' a* 
 the way frae hell in a coach-and-six to attend as chief 
 mourner. He was hailed by the captain o' a schooner 
 frae Ayr while coming past Ailsa Craig; the smell o' 
 brimstone had nearly stifled the crew, and an awfu' 
 storm was raised by him : thunder and lightning of 
 such tremendous shape and sound had neither been 
 heard or seen before ! The weight o' the coffin was 
 whiles so great that it sunk down in the earth and 
 was like to tak' them that were carrying it down alang 
 with it ; ither times it was like to fly up amang the 
 thunder and lightning. It was one of the severest 
 storms that ever visited Carrick. Such truths we 
 were told in youth and were bound to believe them. 
 Maggie Osborne held high place among the watches, 
 but wanted force to withstand the cunning of the 
 clergy. She was burnt for her wickedness, and we 
 concluded that she was right served. 
 
 "Fair May Culzean," who was her father's heir, 
 was sairly imposed on by fause Sir John. He in- 
 duced her to leave her home with him under cloud o' 
 night ; and on horseback they merrily rode along till
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTEK. 15 
 
 they cam' to Bennan Bay, where he, the ill-set scoun- 
 drel, had tossed over the precipice eight fair ladies 
 before this one, wha he had informed was to be the 
 ninth ; but by an expert jerk, following presence of 
 mind, she tossed him headforemost down to the sea 
 in an awsome splash. The stealing of Lord Cassillis' 
 lady by the gipsies was anither Carrick legend in 
 which we had great interest. The truth of these 
 was all recorded in song, which auld sangs my 
 mother sang wi' such pathos as never human being 
 ever sang before or ever will again. 
 
 My father's voice has been silenced for more than 
 sixty years. He belonged to Chirnside, on the border 
 of England. He came to Ayrshire in 1799, and met 
 with my mother. They were united in wedlock 
 when the meal was at five shillings the peck, lived 
 together for nine years, had four of a family, three 
 sons and a daughter. I am the second son. My 
 mother outlived my father thirty-three years. My 
 old brother and I represent the family now.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BURNS' CHARACTERS. 
 
 IT may be a delusion, but should it be so, it is plea- 
 sant to think that our mothers were nae common 
 folk ; and wha they keepit company wi' were the next 
 best. Nanny Brown and my granny were great 
 companions in youth, and after they were married 
 still were friends. My mither made her appearance 
 in Maybole in 1768 ; Nanny Brown cam' to see the 
 arrival, and brought her auld callant alang wi' her. 
 He was nine year auld at the time, and the world 
 around Maybole kent him ever after as Robin Burns. 
 The civilized world knows him yet, and ever will, as 
 Burns ! and will sing his soul in his songs for ever. 
 To think that Burns was a callant like me, and had 
 herded, planted potatoes, shorn corn, and had done in 
 his day all the shapes o' drudgery that I was doing 
 in mine, and that he was in Maybole that day my 
 mither was born! and that he had seen the first day 
 of her existence ! and that she had seen him after he 
 was a man ! and that his mither was frae Kirkoswald, 
 and his father frae some far awa' place like my ain 
 father! gave the name and connections, associations 
 and sympathies, poetry and life's pilgrimage of the
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 17 
 
 poet a liame feeling the same as if he had been an 
 auld member o' our family. His mither got my 
 mither into the service of Susanna Ferguson, a 
 daughter of him of Denholm with whom Burns' 
 father was at one time a gardener. 
 
 Colonel Kelso of Dankeith, with whom my father 
 was gardener, married Susanna Ferguson, with whom 
 my mither was lady's-maid (afterwards housekeeper), 
 till she married my father ! thus bringing a connection 
 which gave the name of Nanny Brown, her husband, 
 and her son Bobin, the shape in my mind as if they 
 had been of our family, which shape is yet retained. 
 I lived with little change till I was sixteen amid a 
 people who on all sides of me knew Burns in life ; 
 two miles and a half from where he corrected the 
 sheets of his poetry while passing through the Kil- 
 marnock press; six and a half miles from Irvine, 
 where he was a heckler ; five miles from Lochlea, and 
 nine from Mossgiel, where he was a farmer ; ten from 
 where he was born ; five from Kilrnarnock, where 
 his poems were published; and afterwards twenty 
 years an inhabitant of that gude auld town. In that 
 circuit, at that time or times, I heard much of Burns 
 from the lips of those who pretended at least to be 
 on terms of intimacy with the man. The farmer, the 
 poet, the pride of Ayrshire the representative man 
 of Scotland ! 
 
 Little can now be added that is not already before 
 c
 
 18 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 the world, but few are now in life who have heard so 
 many of his auld acquaintances speak of him, and 
 few who have heard so many of the clergy preach 
 whose fame has been preserved by being pickled in 
 his poetry. 
 
 Dr M'Kinlay, whose ordination he commemorates, 
 married me. I have heard Dalrymple Mild preach ; 
 Poet Willie or Peebles frae the Water-fit; Duncan 
 Deep, wha some o' the auld wives said was a dun,u ..n 
 o' wit. Burns contrasted Duncan with Peebles on 
 the light and shade principle "Duncan deep, and 
 Peebles shaul," meaning shallow. Irvineside, o' Gal- 
 ston, Mr Smith, whause English style and gestures 
 fine were not so acceptable to the godly as a glass o' 
 gude whisky, and the Calf, whom Burns raised to a 
 famous bullock, I have heard preach. Mr M'Quhae. 
 of St. Quivox, I ha'e heard haud forth. I have often 
 seen Brither Davie, the Bletherin' Bitch, and many 
 of lesser note. The Whipper-in, wee blasted wonner, 
 I have listened to in his old age, who in his own way 
 gave out some living touches of a period when he 
 could have stood a rival against the bard in admira- 
 tion of Highland Mary. 
 
 On the first morning of January, 1827, I was at 
 Coilsfield giving a welcome to the new year. It 
 seemed a use and wont for the various neighbours 
 after friendly visiting of each other, bottle in hand, t<> 
 assemble in the house of Hugh Andrew, who lived in
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 19 
 
 a cottage of two apartments. Hugh at this time was 
 64 years of age ; except a sore toe, hale, hearty, and 
 garrulous. A dance was going on in the room, while 
 he and I were the only inmates of the kitchen. He 
 was in bed. As the mirth was going on in the room, 
 he fired up differently to the most of old people. 
 Listening for a time, he gave vent to speech, " Lard, 
 man, I like to hear the young anes enjoying them- 
 selves." In confidence before this he told me that he 
 had the honour to be the Whipper-in mentioned by 
 Burns. "Man, I hae danced wi' Highland Mary in 
 other years in that same room ! Man, she was a 
 tight hizzie ! and feth sae was I a tight chiel ! Man, 
 I could hae thought to hae rivalled Burns mysel' ! 
 but, man, the times then werena such as they are noo. 
 I wad be ayont fifteen, a sturdy fellow, feth ! but 
 hadna the power o' a bawbee. Gallants were callants 
 then, and had to gang barefit till they could earn 
 their ain shoon. And I'se tell ye what it is, it doesna 
 matter how gude-looking a young chiel be, if he 
 hasna siller an' gude claes, he is held light amang the 
 lasses ; altho', man, Mary an' me were great when we 
 were alane, and mony a time I thought o' putting my 
 han' round her neck. But, man, there was a dignity 
 about her that gar'd me aye stan' back; and when 
 that ugly devil Burns made his appearance, it was 
 then she looked on me like stink, an' I'se tell you 
 that was what I took warst of a'. I used often to
 
 20 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 muck the byre for her, and then she wad joke wi' ine. 
 So you see, sir, that I could hae fand in iny heart to 
 despise her when I discovered that a' the respect she 
 had for me was that I used to whirl out cow dirt for 
 her! Aye, feth, sir, it was gallin' to ony chiel o' 
 spirit ! but O, man, she was a tight hizzie ! I hae 
 ne'er in my day seen aught to match her ; an', lain' 
 ye, I count niysel' a judge. Burns tells us, in ane o' 
 his poems that he made in Mossgiel, when he was 
 sittin' among reek an' rattons, that a ghaist came in 
 to him wi' a tartan clout rowed about her, an' that 
 she" had a ' leg ' that his bonnie Jean could only 
 peer it ! Jean Armour had twa legs, sir, an' I hae 
 seen them baith ; an' I can tell you, sir, that Jean 
 Armour's legs couldna hand a can'le to Hielan' 
 Mary's; an', min' ye, I hae seen them too. I hae 
 seen baith Jean Armour an' Hielan' Mary trampin' 
 blankets, an' that's the way to ken what kin' o' legs 
 a lass Stan's on ! 
 
 " I really shouldna ha'e ca'd Burns an ugly devil, 
 altho' to me he was. The truth is, he was ower gude- 
 lookin' ; he was a manly -lookin' chiel, and I had still 
 a bit o' the callant lookin' out o' me, and the want o' 
 the bawbees was against me. Ony chiel wha could 
 tak' a lass in to the yill atween the preachin's on 
 Sabbath had aye niair standin' amang them through 
 the week. AVoinen believe in siller, depend on't 
 A wool, ye see, Burns and Mary are baith awa', and I
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 21 
 
 arn here yet. Man, I can see them baith before me, 
 just as if they were in life, but we maun a' dee." 
 
 This last touch was followed by a sigh ; the old 
 man felt all that he was saying, and uttered it so 
 intensely that I could not devise a readier method to 
 do him honour at the time than request him to come 
 on my back. He made some objections at first as to 
 his not being dressed, but seeing that I was in earnest 
 he consented; so I had the honour of joining in the 
 dance with the Whipper-in on my back, and he was 
 whipped back to his bed by the lads and lasses 
 present, whose appreciation of his laurels were less 
 than mine ! 
 
 How different the style of the next auld man's 
 historical treatment of his personal experience with 
 the poet. Staying for a time in Mauchline, I was one 
 day in the house of Doctor Mitchell, where I was 
 introduced to a fine specimen of a mitherly auld wife, 
 bearing a strong resemblance to her who sang of her 
 auld gudeman as " John Anderson my jo." She 
 invited me to come and see her auld gudeman, wha 
 in his early life was a great acquaintance o' Burns 
 the poet. Learning that I was an artist, by way of 
 making the invitation more full, she said, " Our John 
 has gotten his map done, an' ye'll see it as weel as 
 hunse!'. Tarn M'Call did it; some think it very 
 like him, and ithers think it no sae like ; but I reckon 
 that will be the same way wi' yoursel'. We dinna
 
 22 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 a' see alike, and there are a heap o' blin' folk in the 
 warld, and they never seem to think that the fau't 
 maybe lies in their een, but when ye come ye'll see 
 for yoursel'." 
 
 The old lady had heralded my coming to her man 
 John, not forgetting to tell him that I had skill in 
 the maps of men and women; and the doctor had 
 informed her that I was a great admirer of the poet 
 Burns, our auld John's early friend and associate. I 
 found John's idea of himself in advance of the work 
 of art, for he unceremoniously declared that he looked 
 better than the painting, the which I declared a good 
 map ! The gudewife introduced the subject of the 
 poet: "Our man was a wonnerfu' favourite wi' Burns !" 
 " Ou, aye, man, him an' me were wonnerfu' chief ! He 
 was wonnerfu' fond o' my company; mony a crack 
 him an' me had ourlanes, but thae days are a' gane. 
 Ou, aye, man, when we used to gang thegither to the 
 lime in the mornin's we had real fun as we gaed alang 
 the road ; and, man, he was sae fond o' my company 
 that altho' he was at the kiln afore me and had hi.s 
 cart filled ready for comin' awa, he wad wait on an' 
 help me to fill my cart, just for the sake o' my 
 company alang the road !" Here I expected to open 
 up a new seam in the history of the bard's early days : 
 " And what sort o' subjects did he incline to crack 
 on?" "Hoo, subject? nae subject ava; he just 
 blether'd aboot his lasses, or maybe aboot a dram ;
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 23 
 
 mony a dram we had thegither. You could never 
 ken what he wad be at, but him an' me were unco 
 great for a' that." Such was the extent o' the mental 
 mineral I got frae John, wha was a pretty fair type 
 o' a great many o' Burns' admirers, wha fail'd to ken 
 what he meant. 
 
 This conversation took place on the first day that 
 Kilrnarnock could boast o' ha'in' a Sheriff Court 
 opened by her ain Sheriff, which event opened up a 
 new theme for John to try his genius on. Kennin' 
 that I cam' frae Kilmarnock, John put on a magis- 
 terial sort o' air and made a remark. " Ye ha'e got a 
 Shirra' Court in your place noo ; it'll be an unco 
 farce ony case that'll be tried there if we may judge 
 by the sort o' jury they ha'e summoned frae this 
 place; they ha'e ta'en doon seven callants. What 
 sense ha'e they to try ony case that's worth tryin' ? 
 Thae juries are a farce a'thegither. I ha'e rain' a 
 whilie back when that there were seven men o' us 
 summon'd doon to Ayr to attend on a case whaur a 
 scoon'rel had stown about fifteenpence-worth o' some 
 kin' o' trash, an' a' thae men were ta'en aff their wark 
 to gang an' sit on judgment on the case. After gaun 
 a dizen o' miles, to sit a' day in the Courthouse 
 without ever a case comin' before us, was ane o' the 
 greatest pieces o' nonsense ever I was connected wi'. 
 "When it cam' near to ten hours at e'en, they brocht 
 forret the nasty creature, an' he pled guilty. Our
 
 24 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 presence was never needed. The Shirra' spak' very 
 kindly to us ; he ca'd us gentlemen ! and said that 
 he was sorry that we had been put to sae muckle 
 trouble, but he cou'dna help it. He was very ceevil 
 to us, and sae he weel micht. He said : ' Gentlemen, 
 had ye been witnesses ye wad ha'e gotten pay, but ye 
 see that ye are beyond the witnesses in dignity ! In 
 fact, ye are the judges in this case.' Gude keep us, 
 there was nae case, for without consultin' us the 
 Shirra' gaed the scoon'rel a month's imprisonment. 
 Had I got my will I wad ha'e hung the ill-look in' 
 scoon'rel up by the neck, and then that wad ha'e been 
 a sma' gratification for our bein' pestered, forby sae 
 muckle oot o' pouch. I think it cost me seven-an'- 
 saxpence that day, the loss o' a day's work, an' only 
 gied the creature a month o' the jail. It might be 
 plenty o' punishment for a' that he stole, but he was 
 deservin' to be strung up for the bother that he put 
 us to, never to speak o' the expense!" Such WM 
 John's sentence, which has internal evidence in itself 
 that Burns and John had no sympathies in common. 
 Other characters even of higher pretence have faiK-d 
 to illustrate the character and times of Burns beyond 
 what he himself did. He is yet his best .biographer. 
 Some have even ventured on a glossary of the words 
 used by him, wha didna ken a kailstock frae a cab- 
 bage, nor a sybo frae a leek. No less a character than 
 Robert Chambers of Edinburgh has made big blunders.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A GLOSSARY CORRECTED. 
 
 Dedicated to Robert Chambers, Edinburgh. 
 
 " Fy for shame, Robin." Old Sony. 
 
 A SCBAICH FBAE AYRSHIRE. 
 
 Robin Chambers, 1 Doune Place, Edinburgh, when you in 1851 
 gave the world an edition o' Burns' Poems in four volumes, and 
 complimented yoursel' on the undertaking, did you really mean 
 the Glossary placed at the end of the lines as " Information for 
 the People" ? 
 
 AS to the value of the Scotch currency, Chambers 
 tells us that a bodle is a doit ; then he tells us 
 that a plack is a doit ; whereas two pennies is a bodle, 
 and four pennies a plack. He might as well ha'e telt 
 us that a bawbee was a penny. In "Hallowe'en," 
 where Burns tells us that " hav'rel Will fell aff the 
 drift and wander'd through the bow-kail," Chambers 
 tells us that Will was a fool, whereas Burns has 
 only said that he was a half-witted innocent. Had 
 Chambers read the growth of a Calf, as preached by 
 Bums from the text selected by James Steven, he 
 would never have attempted to pass off a stirk of a 
 year aulcl for a matured bullock.
 
 26 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTER. 
 
 Burns, in his "Second Epistle to Da vie," is scolding 
 him for neglecting the muse, and, as a punishment, 
 says that he should be "licket until he fyke" that 
 is, he should be whipped ; then he says " sic nan's as 
 you sud ne'er be faiket, be hain't wha like." There 
 was no excuse for him ; he could do it, and thus 
 should be made to do it. Chambers, in a foot-note, 
 says this line was perhaps written "Sic hauns as 
 yours sud ne'er be faiket," that is, " Such hands as 
 yours should never be folded ;" whereas the word has 
 no such meaning. It simply means an individual 
 endowed with such gifts should not be excused. 
 The term "yerkit," which means well put together, 
 or driven up, Chambers calls "fermented." The 
 term "wad," which stands for wager, he calls 
 "pledged," which means pawned. "Wauket loof," 
 which means thickened skin on the palms of the 
 hands, and what at another time Burns calls his 
 "horny fists," Chambers tells us were "dyed." When 
 Burns and "Death" had the confab, the poet 
 showed a gully-knife in self-defence, which had no 
 effect in scaring the old butcher, who invited him to 
 put up his whittle, not being designed to try its 
 mettle, "but if I did, I wad be kittle to be mislearM." 
 Chambers translates the word kittle into " difficult," 
 which is nonsense. Kittle, means apt: I would be 
 apt to do mischief in spite of your knife, were I 
 disposed ; and in a foot-note he further tells us that
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CIIAEACTEE. 27 
 
 Death uses the term "mislear'd" as "to ~be put out of 
 my art," and says the sense of the passage can only 
 be so understood. After the conflict with Dr Horn- 
 book, where the edge was taken off his scythe and 
 the point off his dart 
 
 " It was sae blunt, 
 
 Feint haet o't wad hae pierc'd the heart 
 O' a kail-runt," 
 
 Chambers informs us that a kail-runt is a " cabbage- 
 root/' whereas it is simply the stalk of a green kail 
 wi' the head aff. 
 
 Burns, in his "Address to the De'il," speaking of 
 his residence being "a lowin' heugh !" which was 
 the vast, unbottomed boundless pit, filled fu' o' lowin' 
 brimstone Chambers, without ceremony, fills it up, 
 and calls the place where it was a "hollow" ! 
 
 When Burns saw the goddess of his own creating, 
 he "glowr'd as eerie as if he had been dush't in 
 some wild glen." Chambers tells us that was the 
 same as if he had said, " I stared as full of supersti- 
 tious fear as if I had been thrown to the ground by 
 meeting a being of the other world in some wild 
 glen," whereas it simply means he looked as feared 
 as if a bull had made a rush at him in some solitary 
 place. He tells us that eldritch means " unearthly," 
 whereas it means old-looking or auld-farrant belong- 
 ing to a past time. When Common Sense was gauii 
 to Jamie Beattie "to mak' her 'plaint," Chambers 
 thinks that it was James Beattie the poet, author of
 
 28 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 " The Minstrel," whereas it was only Jamie Beattie, a 
 decent weaver, wha liv'd at the Back o' the Yards in 
 Kilmarnock. He was a prize-prayer for sick fo'k, 
 and Common Sense was at that time muckle in the 
 gaet o' the clergy, and they misca'd her sair ; and as 
 she expected nae redress at their han', her next best 
 step for a solatium to her wounded feelings was to 
 get hersel' prayed for by one so competent to tak' up 
 her case in a proper spirit. Burns says 
 
 " Auld Coila now may fidge fu' fain, 
 She's gotten poets o' her ain." 
 
 Chambers says that means she can "hug herself" 
 which means that she can tak' her auld carcase in 
 her ain arms! That would be a bonnie sicht: it 
 wad beat Polly Partin openin' oysters at the Market 
 Cross o' Edinburgh. " Fidgin' " simply means sitting 
 notching in a happy mood, working her auld carcase 
 within her ain claes, a wee snuff o' animal heat being 
 also essential such as auld Satan exhibited in Allo- 
 way Kirk at the appearance o' Cuttysark. Chambers 
 says that a towsie drab means tipsy, whereas it just 
 means a hushel o' a dirty, disorderly woman ; a lazy 
 drab, a towsie drab, and a dirty drab are peculiar 
 phases o' the same genus, without meaning tipsy. 
 
 To make a wind-up, Chambers tells us that Willie 
 Wastle's wife, wha was a dirty drab, was less tasty 
 than the cat, wha washed her face wi' her loof ; but 
 Willie's wife only dighted her grunzie wi' a cushion,
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 29 
 
 which means a stuffed cushion for the seat of the 
 arm-chair. The nursing-chair was also honoured with 
 a cushion. Burns simply tells us that it was an auld 
 stockin' leg she performed the dighting process wi'. 
 A hushion is the last stage of a stocking, which, when 
 entire, is a scabbard for the leg and foot ; when the 
 sole of the stocking is worn off it becomes a hugger ; 
 when the leg is sore worn and darned past redemption 
 for footing, and the foot cut off, it then takes the 
 name of a hushion, and used to be worn on the legs 
 of women and boys at country work to keep their 
 legs frae hacking what refinement calls chapping or 
 gelling. 
 
 Chambers tells us of an auld cobbler he met with 
 who gave a lucid account of a night wi' Burns before 
 he left for the West Indies. " It was an unco night," 
 quo' the cobbler; "we sat till five in the morning. 
 Burns had buckskin breeks on, out o' the pouch of 
 which forth came aye the ither shilling for toddy." 
 The brethren o' the St. James's Lodge had many 
 meetings about that time, and it was at one of them 
 this wonnerfu' nicht happened in Tarbolton. 
 
 Having given a few extracts from " Chambers's 
 Information for the People," we will open the next 
 chapter with a fuller, more wholesome and true 
 account of the meeting, and what was thought to be 
 the last parting in this country ; and if the reader is 
 no wiser, it will not be our faut.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SOME HISTORY OF HORNBOOK AND A NIGHT Wl' BUKNS, 
 GIVING NEW AND TRUE LIGHT ON BOTH CHARACTERS. 
 
 IN the present day we have much pretence to 
 friendship, acquaintanceship, and familiarity with 
 people we never spoke to. It oozes out in various 
 foundationless shapes, such as, " O, I know him, or 
 her, well ; they sit in the same church as we do." 
 Some closer relationship comes out in, " they sit two 
 seats behind us," or, " aff at our right hand," or left, 
 as it may be. Inquire after their disposition, and 
 you may be astonished to find that we never spoke 
 to them; some defect in their character prevents us 
 from giving them any countenance. The frail or 
 foolish bits are all that are known, and these also 
 exaggerated. The unco gude and unco stupid have 
 great gooseberry een : every object is magnified as it 
 passes in at the windows of their vacant heads, hence 
 their greatness and goodness are only felt and appreci- 
 ated by themselves. I never sat in the same kirk, 
 that I ken o', with the hero of one of Burns' poems ; 
 but when he lived in South Portland Street, Glas- 
 gow, I was lodging in South Coburg Street, and my 
 bedroom window looked into Ids. Few morning
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 31 
 
 during a period of twelve months but I saw the old 
 man at his window. His features were so near me 
 as to admit of a pleasing study of his expression ; and 
 though it was now the afternoon of life with him, 
 'twas the morning face I saw ! There was something 
 so loveable, so innocent, and so popular in that old 
 man that I liked to see him walk on the street. He 
 was a compact specimen of an old-style magistrate. 
 " How was it that such a figure should continue still 
 young ? He can never grow old ; he is embalmed," 
 said I to myself one day, as I heard him in conver- 
 sation with another gentleman, " that voice, that form 
 is to dwell on earth in immortal youth." Here he 
 stood for a few seconds while parting with his friend 
 a substance which had passed into an ideal through 
 a rare joke, and will hold a place among coming men 
 with Hercules, Apollo, or any god ever created by 
 man ! 
 
 This man, whose presence will face all time corning, 
 was John Wilson, schoolmaster, and at the time I 
 saw him, Session-Clerk in the Gorbals of Glasgow, 
 who, when he was young, kept a school in the village 
 of Tarbolton, within five miles frae whaur I was born. 
 He was a personal acquaintance of the poet Burns, 
 and at one time was one of a club of young men 
 who met for the purpose of reading essays for their 
 mutual improvement. Thomas Borland, my old 
 friend, who once lived at Tarbolton, was another of
 
 32 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 the club, and was my informant as to the start of the 
 joke which gave the popularity heralded in the front 
 of this chapter. The members in turn read essays on 
 whatever subject they chose, every one giving out his 
 subject a week before, so that the rest might look it 
 up and be prepared to test the reader for the night 
 by opposition. John Wilson one night chose 
 "Medicine." Whether he had at that time any 
 notion of coming before the world as a doctor, report 
 sayeth not, but certain it is that he did read of 
 medicine; and it so happened that Burns was to 
 follow next night. Wilson was standing by with ;i 
 small leaf of paper in his hand, to rend the heads of 
 his discourse. Thomas Borland stood beside him. 
 Wilson had been worried in jocular form by a few of 
 the members. Burns thought that the reader should 
 have been listened to; as for himself he was anxious 
 to get home, and he smilingly remarked to Thomas 
 Borland, "I think that creature is gaun to keep u.- 
 under the influence o' his physic a' nicht." This 
 reached other ears and raised a laugh. It was on t he 
 road home that the picture so worked on Burns' 
 mind that he began a-laughing and literally staggered 
 at his own pictorial pleasantry as it grew into form. 
 Borland said that it was all a piece of diversion, 
 pretending that the clachan yill had made him 
 canty, for he had not tasted drink of any kind that 
 night. Next night he was back at Tarbolton, with
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 33 
 
 the poem of " Death and Dr Hornbook" finished; and 
 there was some yill gaun then. One of their body, 
 with whom Burns was on extra terms of intimacy, 
 requested the loan of the poem for a night. Burns, 
 with some reluctance, complied, saying, "Kemember, 
 you are not to take a copy of it." The friend pro- 
 mised that he would not ; but he had another young 
 friend who keepit an opposition school in the village 
 to whom he that night showed the poem, and whom he 
 allowed to take a copy. This educational opponent 
 set his writers in the school to work, and every boy 
 who could write was copying " Death and Dr Horn- 
 book," and in a twinkling there was not a house in 
 the parish but had a copy. The fun was universal ; 
 and the young schoolmaster, failing to join in the 
 laugh, left the place. There was neither bad feeling 
 nor evil intention on the part of Burns towards his 
 acquaintance. Wilson never sold medicine ; but 
 some of the corps, for an extension of the joke, wrote 
 and pasted on his door, "Advice Gratis." The popu- 
 larity and pain that came out of the joke were neither 
 foreseen nor intended. 
 
 There was among the corps a secret rivalry as to 
 who was farthest seen in intellectual pursuits ; and 
 at the time. when Burns thought of leaving the 
 country and going to the West Indies, eight of his 
 acquaintances held a secret meeting. Among them 
 was my informant, Thomas Borland, who had a very 
 D
 
 34 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 moderate estimate of his own worth, and a liigh 
 appreciation of that of Burns. He remarked, " We 
 a' thought that Burns felt his own power distinct 
 frae ours. This we were a' forced to acknowledge 
 was right ; "but we at the same time thought that he 
 didna gie us sufficient credit for what we really kent, 
 so we resolved on keeping our secret, that was, to 
 get up a night and mak' speeches that would astonish 
 him before he left us. Every ane o' us got up some- 
 thing best suited to his hobby, like Jolm Wilson wi' 
 the physic, altho' he wasna wi' us that night. We 
 met again and rehearsed our speeches, and we had 
 ourselves restricted to ten minutes each. Weel, man, 
 we rehearsed our speeches, and gaed ane anither great 
 applause. So we proposed a night before he was to 
 leave the place, and the time was named by Burns 
 himseT, the last night he was to be in the country, 
 being best suited for a farewell 
 
 " We met, and there was a peculiar quietness ; every 
 face seemed saddened. It had mair the look o' fo'k 
 met at a burial. I had been looking o'er what I had 
 to say, and I suppose the rest were doing the same. 
 Burns was late in coming to the meeting, a thing he 
 was never in ordinary cases. He was punctual to a' 
 appointments. I had gaen twice through my speech, 
 as ye ha'e kent yoursel' wi' your Psalms or questions 
 at the school, and was half through the tliird time 
 when the door opened and he cam' in. I let go the
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 35 
 
 grip o' my speech at the sight o' him. I lost sight 
 o' what place I was at ; I lost sight o' the beginning, 
 and for the life o' me cou'dna bring a word o't to 
 my mind. It was as clean rubbed out as if I never 
 had thought on a thing o' the kind. It was such a 
 stupor I never have experienced before or since. I 
 thought that he was bigger than usual, wilder like, 
 and no the same man ava. He had an acquaintance 
 alang wi' him, wha had been helping him to pack his 
 kist. They came in and took their seats. Burns 
 rose and said that he was late. He cou'dna help it ; 
 he had made his arrangements for his wardly goods 
 to leave the kintra and that had detained him. He 
 had intended to have said something to us, and he 
 found that he cou'dna. Man, how I was able to 
 sympathise wi' him ! He had composed a song for 
 the occasion and would try to sing it, and he did sing 
 it. If ever a song cam' frae the heart, it was that 
 ane. It had such an effect on me that I feel it yet ! 
 and wadna like to hear onybody spoil it by putting 
 music into it that didna belang to it. I sat at Burns' 
 right han' that night, and never expect to feel such 
 sensations again. I don't like to speak about it, be- 
 cause there is no language can give out to another 
 what I felt, and I always feel as if I were spoiling a 
 sacred something that ought not to be disfigured. 
 And, 0, man, when he cam' to that part o' the sang 
 whaur he says
 
 36 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 ' When yearly ye assemble a', 
 One round I ask it wi' a tear- 
 To him, the bard, that's far awa'.' 
 
 0, man, they werena sham tears, for great big tears 
 like hailstones cam' happin' o'er his manly cheeks, 
 and you wad hae thought that he looked at every ane 
 at the same moment. Each thought that he looked 
 only at him. Such was the effect and power of his 
 appeal, that we just bursted out, an' grat like as many 
 bubbly boys. There we sat, brimfu' o' speeches that I 
 don't believe one of them have ever seen the light 
 yet. He shook hands wi' us individually, and left 
 us for what he thought was to be for ever. But 
 things were otherwise ordered." 
 
 Such were some of the touches of a true-hearted 
 man who felt more than he could utter. It is truth- 
 ful, and never has been given to the world but by 
 myself.
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 A PASSAGE ILLUSTKATED. 
 
 mHOMAS BOKLAND, when a callant, was a herd 
 JL in the service of Eankine of Adamhill an 
 intimate friend and acquaintance of the poet Burns. 
 Rankine was an outspoken, active, independent 
 character ; took a dram as it suited him, and some- 
 times gave utterance to sentiments not then relished 
 by some or understood by others. He was anxious 
 to put the clergy on a proper footing ; was an excel- 
 lent story-teller ; could embody his waking moments 
 into the shape of a dream, and in that way put forth 
 his ideas with less offence to other dreamers ! Con- 
 versing one day with my auld Men', Thomas remarked 
 that in Burns' " Epistle to his auld Master, Eankine," 
 we lost a peculiar piece of history that was only 
 indicated in the poem ; for instance, that verse whaur 
 he says 
 
 " Ye ha'e sae monie cracks and cants, 
 And in your wicked, drunken rants, 
 Ye mak' a deevil o' the saints, 
 
 An' fill them f ou ; 
 And then their failings, flaws, and wants 
 
 Are a' seen thro'. "
 
 38 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 " Noo," quo Thomas, " ony stranger wad think that 
 this was a sort o' halesale way o' gaun to w;irk. 
 whereas it simply referred to a case which happened 
 when I was herding at Adamhill. There was a 
 neighbour farmer, a decent sort o' man, but whause 
 character and conduct was somewhat different frae 
 that o' Rankine. There was a guid dose o' secrecy 
 in him, and a great respect for outward appearances. 
 He had at one time fancied that there was something 
 so openly glaring in Rankine's deportment that the 
 Kirk-Session should ha'e him convened before them 
 by way o' reproving him and getting him to confess a 
 fau't. But the man went to wark without seeing his 
 way right. He had a number o' cases o' out ward 
 scandal, such as getting merry and saying things that 
 he either shou'dna or wou'dna have said ; but lie 
 forgot that, apart frae proof being needed, a com- 
 plainer was needed, and he had to meet his neighbour 
 face to face before the Session. Eankine had mair 
 pith o' mind and mair logic every way, and instead 
 o' suffering a rebuke he gave in his resignation to a 
 kirk in whause communion sic an unworthy member 
 was allowed to break the ninth commandment in sic 
 wanton shape as to bear fause witness against a 
 neighbour. Rankine after this gaed to the kirk when 
 it pleased him, and a strong effort was made to get 
 him back. He put on a hypocritical appearance and 
 thought that he wad like to punish his adversary his
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEK. 39 
 
 ain way, so ae Sunday some twa-three weeks before 
 the Sacrament, Eankine gaed forward to him and his 
 wife as they stood thegither in the kirkyard, and says 
 he, ' This wark's no gaun to do ; we are living here 
 like common heathen, a thing that is the reverse o' 
 Christian conduct ; and as the Sacrament is at hand, 
 let a' byganes be byganes. Come o'er on Tuesday 
 nicht, you and the wife, and tak' a cup o' tea.' 
 
 " The bait took ; the wife was quite uplifted aboot 
 it. ' Ou, aye,' quo' she, ' I was aye for our ane to 
 mak' that proposal to you, but it has come better aff 
 your haun, as I aye thocht he was in the fau't.' 
 Tuesday night saw the man and his wife comfortably 
 seated at their tea in Eankine's ; and, min' ye, 
 Eankine had a furthy appearance in his ain house, 
 an' the true knack o' makin' everybody feel at hame. 
 After tea, he said, 'I am for a glass o' toddy to 
 mysel', and ye can do as it pleases you; there's 
 whisky, and there's plenty o' warm water in the 
 kettle.' This latter was sitting at the fireside wi' 
 plenty o' warm whisky in it, and was a trap set for 
 the neighbours. It was wickedly done. The man 
 hung fire a wee, but the wife, wi' mair pluck, said, 
 'Aweel, I am sae pleas'd that friendship is made up 
 that I'll tak' a glass o'er the head o't.' 'Ye can 
 mak' it as weak as you like,' quo' Eankine, ' Ye ha'e 
 the makin o't in your ain han'.' 
 
 " The gudeman said that he wad brew a tumbler
 
 40 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 and gi'e the wife a glass oot o't. He commenced 
 wi' what he thought a reasonable quantity o' water, 
 but it was rather strong. ' Put in mair water/ quo' 
 Rankine, so water was added, and the gudeman and 
 his wife had several tastings till it came to the right 
 thing, the wife remarking that it was a stark dram. 
 The crack went on fine, and healths were drank and 
 responded to till the twa forgot themsel's amid mirth 
 and new life, and fell aff the chairs on wliich they 
 were sittin'. Itankine call'd on me to rin awa' to the 
 man's house and tell four o' his servants to come wi' 
 twa handbarrows and tak' hame their maister and 
 mistress. The servants thoeht that it was fun at 
 first, but 'No/ said I, 'they were below the table 
 when I cam' awa'. "When the servants did arrive 
 Rankine treated them to twa-three glass o' warm, an' 
 a cauld cauker at the door when startin'. I was to 
 follow them hame and see hoo they got on. They 
 were to gang straight through the parks, and sae they 
 did. The first pair, who carried the gudeman, fell 
 in a plowed field, a wee bit frae the house ; and the 
 twa that carried the gudewife fell wi' her in the 
 midden, which at that time had its residence in the 
 square at the front door. There were some sober 
 neighbours made aware that something was wrang, 
 and the affair gaed through the kintra like wil'fire. 
 
 "That was the matter referred to in the poem. It 
 was that same Eankine that Burns made Death seize
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 41 
 
 on when he was gaun to the ither warl' wi' sae mony 
 rag-a-brash that he was ashamed o', and wanted ae 
 honest man to grace them ; and it was to Eankine 
 that the note was sent after Burns himsel' died. It 
 was got lying on the table, and was something like 
 this: 
 
 ' He who of Eankine sang lies cauld and dead ; 
 Alas ! alas ! an unco change indeed ! ' 
 
 Kankine was sair affected wi' the simple, truthful 
 notice frae the dead man's ain hand." 
 
 From scenes like these, it is evident that there 
 were queer fo'k langsyne as weel as yet.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FACTS, FEELINGS, FOIBLES, FRAILTIES, AND QUEER 
 PICTURES OF A PAST TIME. 
 
 But there's morality himsel' 
 
 Embracing all opinions ! 
 Hear how he gi'es the tither yell 
 
 Between his twa companions: 
 
 O happy day ! rejoice, rejoice ! 
 
 Come bouse about the porter I 
 Morality's demure decoya 
 
 Shall here nae mair find quarter : 
 M'Kinlay, Russell, are the boys 
 
 That Heresy 'can torture ; 
 They'll gi'e her on a rape a hoyse, 
 
 And cowe her measure shorter 
 
 By the head some day. Burnt. 
 
 BURNS, in writing up the ordination of Dr 
 M'Kinlay to the Laigh Kirk of Kilmarnock. 
 though giving a humorous picture of the clerical 
 masonry gone through on the occasion, looked on the 
 young man as something above sma' drink. In the 
 " Kirk's Alarm" he is again noticed as the hero of 
 the ordination kindly spoken to and prophetically 
 spoken of:
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 43 
 
 " Simper James, Simper James, 
 Leave the fair Killie dames, 
 There's a holier chase in your view ; 
 
 I'll lay on your head 
 
 That a pack ye'll soon lead, 
 For puppies like you there's but few." 
 
 The doctor would seem to have been plausible in 
 the morning of his preaching career ; he was plausible 
 and of a simpering turn even in his old age. Caution 
 seemed part of him in walk and conversation. There 
 was a seeming kindliness in him. He carried his 
 hearers as by storm ; he was strong on the feelings 
 and the sound of his voice had a soothing, if not an 
 edifying, charm. He literally led a pack of listeners 
 till the day of his death. He shouted his feelings at 
 them and into them, and as the right things they 
 were accepted He preached forty-four years after 
 Burns died. There was no disparagement meant by 
 giving him a dog figure more than there was in his 
 accepting of his fldck as sheep. A pack of foxhounds 
 are in general led by one dog whose scent seems to 
 be keener than the rest, and this choice dog is in 
 general cases the first to find the scent of the fox. The 
 moment he takes it up he gowls, and because he does 
 so the rest gowl also. The gowl of the mass is 
 complimentary to the leader. So ran the prophecy, 
 and so came out the fact. His worshippers stood by 
 him through good report and through bad, and added 
 that nobody could expect to thrive wha spoke of him
 
 44 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 as a common man! By the most zealous he was 
 held as infallible as ever the Pope was. He was long 
 a bachelor, yet he had spoken to an old lady, had 
 walked arm in arm with her, and had slipped from 
 her grasp when people drew near. It was modesty ! 
 She had built a house for a present to him. He 
 wished her to infeft him in it ; she only meant that 
 step to be taken after he was her husband. That 
 was too hurrie4 a step. He was cautious. He had 
 no taste for company. He had a faithful servant 
 servant girl ; yes, she was faithful ; but being wearied 
 of service, one term she left him and went to push 
 her fortune nobody knew where. Her parents were 
 dead, but she had cousins, and an uncle, and some 
 aunts. She might have had more than one uncle, 
 but this one was anxious about her absence, and went 
 to the doctor to enquire about her. He could give 
 no information ; she had left him : that was all he 
 knew, or wished to know. Time soothes sorrow; 
 she became partly forgotten. 
 
 One Saturday night, after an absence of twenty 
 months, she arrived at her uncle's, the time-keeper. 
 She astonished him by saying that she had come 
 home to be married, and doubly astonished him by 
 saying, " To Doctor M'Kinlay" ! That was set down 
 as an impossibility. The doctor was to preach next 
 day. Had he intended to have been proclaimed in 
 church to Lezzie Dickie preparation would have
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEK. 45 
 
 been gone into for the event. Her uncle had seen the 
 doctor a few days back, and heard no word of any 
 movement in the use and wont of the world being 
 altered. The kind uncle went to bed, but not to 
 sleep. It was a touching case : it could not be 
 otherwise than that the poor thing had gane crazy. 
 Lunacy was a sad thing ; but to-morrow would come, 
 and with it some new light was to be hoped for. 
 Sabbath morning did come ; the uncle went out to 
 meet the doctor ; did meet him ; they touched hats 
 they passed. Uncle hurried back to the kirk, 
 through the Nailer's Close, and into church before the 
 banns were proclaimed. There were no such names 
 on the list as those stated by the young woman: 
 but between sermons behind the kirk door, in a 
 kindly low voice, before twa witnesses James 
 M'Kinlay and Elizabeth Dickie were three times 
 proclaimed, as a legal step on the road to the 
 hymeneal altar: and Monday saw them man and 
 wife ! 
 
 Queer speeches were made in an undertone, but 
 those who wished to understand the mysteries of 
 Providence held their peace. Time passed, and in 
 seven months and a fortnight the happy couple had 
 a third party in the shape of a baby. Small as this 
 affair may seem, ye'll no help auld wives frae putting 
 their noses into the business and wonner how it could 
 be that the doctor's prayers could be listened to in
 
 46 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 such a special way, when the Session wadna pass a 
 weaver frae the Netherton Holm in a case o' the 
 same kind, at such a hurried notice, without speerin' 
 some questions aboot it. Creeshy Cook and a \\ luvii 
 o' her gossiping acquaintances took up the burden of 
 the song, and soon gathered as many trumpeters and 
 musicians as formed a right good concert party. The 
 blast increased, and ideality wrought on the public 
 mind till the Eeverend Court met at Irvine, and sat 
 on the case for nine days! The outside world of 
 heathen mould saw nae wonder in the affair. The 
 "uncoguid" cou'dua see that onybody had a richt 
 to meddle wi't ava ; but questions are queer things, 
 and inquisitive fo'k are a great power. How wad a 
 man like the doctor ever think of marrying a woman 
 wha had been awa' frae him sae lang, an' him neither 
 ken whaur she gaed or what she was doing ; gang 
 about his marriage in sic an out-o'-the-way, thief-like 
 shape ; countenance nae decent body in the transac- 
 tion, and be sae muckle cleverer every way than 
 ither fo'k into the bargain ? Na ; there is something 
 queer iu the whole capers o' them. " I wonner whaur 
 she has been ! would it no be worth while to try and 
 find it out ? " Some auld arithmeticians began to 
 count back, and thocht if they could follow her fit- 
 steps they might stumble on a wee neighbour to the 
 new member of the minister's family and the Laigh 
 Kirk!
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 47 
 
 The merry midwife was taken into confidence, and 
 her experience was often referred to, as more in 
 accordance with nature. Time was essential in a' 
 cases whaur health was granted ; and, so far as she 
 kent, prayers had nae pith to set the auld law aside. 
 Nae sensible body was needin' to steek their eeii in 
 this case; a' things had wrought thegither in the 
 dark, and, coming to the light, needna startle onybody 
 wha had their senses. Cheers frae the meeting 
 finished the present diet.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FRUITLESS INVESTIGATIONS. 
 
 What is man? for as simple he looks, 
 
 Do but try to develop his hooks and his crooks : 
 
 With his depths and his shallows, his good and his evil, 
 
 All in all he's a problem must puzzle the devil. Burnt. 
 
 ABOUT this time an auld servant-lass to a ruling 
 elder in a neighbouring parish had gaen out o' 
 sight in a quiet way. Neighbours wondered whaur 
 the sedate lass could ha'e gane to. Naebody kent, 
 and seemingly naebody cared ; but when it suited 
 hersel' she cam' back. The elder and she were 
 regularly proclaimed in church, openly married, and 
 were man and wife before the warld every way 
 decent. Yet the auld. wives wondered how it cam' 
 that she had gane sae lang frae hame ; and it was 
 said by some farer seen than the rest, that she had 
 gane to Edinburgh to learn to bake pastry. Ithers 
 said it was to learn manners, so as she might be able 
 to tak' her place at the end o' her ain table in lady- 
 like form. Dan Wilson, wha had a taste for poetry, 
 gat up a rhyme ; everybody lilted it, and some ill- 
 disposed fo'k preen'd their faith to the tail o't, and 
 Dan gave an impudent sort o' eloquence to the settin'
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEK. 49 
 
 o't aff. The imputation contained in it was ill in an 
 elder and schoolmaster ; but in a preacher it was a 
 sair thorn in the side o' the kirk. Dr M'Kinlay's 
 reputation grew fresher, if not purer. 
 
 We will take a look at a people, a time, and a case. 
 The people were peculiar ; the time after Waterloo ; 
 and the case what the auld wives ca'd a premature 
 birth, whaurin addition, subtraction, multiplication, 
 division, and the rule o' three had been studied 
 by Dr M'Kinlay of the Laigh Kirk, Kilmarnock. 
 without the consent o' Creeshy Cook and the merry 
 midwife ; and they looked upon the affair in a' its 
 bearings, so far as they could see wi' their carnal 
 optics. They were blin' to the worth o' the doctor. 
 They were prejudiced against him, and they were 
 joined by ither talkers as ignorant as themselves. 
 The noise increased, and the clerical brethren had to 
 listen, and laugh, and tak' up the case, and bring it 
 before the reverend court at Irvine ; and there were 
 wicked fo'k wha said that it was a' spite, because 
 nane o' them could preach like the doctor. Indeed, 
 nane o' them could haud a can'le to him. There was 
 something in the sound o' him that charmed the most 
 of his admirers. He had a musical delivery an 
 earnest, pleading way in behalf o' sinners; and report, 
 that most safe guide, said that he had sair personal 
 wusters wi' the deevil in his study-room when getting 
 up his sermons. Mony a time his auld servant-lass 
 E
 
 50 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 heard him in angry dispute wi' the deevil, and she 
 has heard them in grips rummagin' through the room, 
 and then a thud such as a heavy body falling on the 
 floor, which she concluded was the deevil flung in 
 the first round. She was sure of it, for she heard 
 him distinctly say, "Get thee behind me, Satan;" 
 and one thing was certain, there was nae earthly 
 power in the room wi' him at the time : and he wad 
 come out sweatin' and blawin' like a win'less cock. 
 His brethren had got their scheme perfected as far as 
 they could, trying to blacken his character. They 
 got in about Glasgow, and found out places whaur 
 the lass had lodged ; she didna bide o'er lang in ony 
 ae place, but every landlady seemed to think tliat she 
 had a " wifey" sort o' look aboot her. She had a sair 
 fit a while, which caused her muckle pain. There 
 was a decent sort o' a doctor cam' whiles to see her, 
 talked wi' her quietly, and went awa. He wore a 
 bottle-green coat wi' clear buttons on't, had a dark 
 wig, and had a strong resemblance to Dr M'Kinlay. 
 But then what could he be doin' wi' a coat o' the 
 kind on, and gaun about on sic capers. It cou'dna 
 be him, for he kent naething about the woman frae 
 the day she left his service till the time she cam' 
 back to be married ; and it was a' spite, just because 
 he could preach better than them. So said the 
 believers in his purity. 
 
 It did somehow come out in evidence that some
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 51 
 
 weaver had been on the outside o' the Kilmarnock 
 coach ae day, and seein' Dr M'Kinlay wi' a bundle, 
 he wonner'd what wad be intilt. He had ta'en his 
 finger and opened the corner o' the bundle, and there 
 he did see a bottle-green coat wi' yellow buttons on't ! 
 It cam' a' nicely round that his auld servant had a 
 burned fit, and was in a lodgin's, and had the fit 
 rowed up wi' a great humplock o' clouts, and was aye 
 in a sort o' hushly state o' dress. She never gaed 
 out, and ae nicht her fit grew untholeable, and a 
 woman wha had skill in thae sort o' things was 
 brought in at the window, and when she was changing 
 the fit the puir lass groaned and cried piteously. 
 There was a great deal o' foul surmises about this 
 burned fit ; and the lass was advised to keep her bed 
 for a month or sax weeks, rather than risk makin' the 
 fit waur by leanin' her weight on't. The simple and 
 pure minds o' his admirers saw naething but persecu- 
 tion, and wad look at it in nae ither licht. The 
 heathen portion saw naething but love, in defiance of 
 law. Ae wife and her son were brocht frae Glasgow 
 as exculpatory witnesses, in favour of the accused 
 parties; but they fell on the dram, and raised a 
 rippet somehow, and were put up the steeple. They 
 were brought out o' limbo to the bar, their appearance 
 only raising a laugh. 
 
 The case was tried every night in our garret, by 
 parties wha had been at Irvine through the day. The
 
 52 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 outs-and-ins were a' carefully sorted, and the faithful 
 stuck by the ways o' Providence being out o' the 
 ways o' man's understanding. The short and the 
 lang o' the trial was to get, if possible, an aulder 
 brither or sister to the baby, but it cou'dna be got ; 
 and the doctor got the benefit of the doubt. His 
 fame increased: his hearers stuck closer to him. 
 They saw that he was persecuted. Then came the 
 second attack on the feelings of the Doctor of 
 Divinity : the Doctors of Medicine were asked if this 
 last, or first wean, was warranted in making its ap- 
 pearance so early. However, they informed the court 
 that if that question had been asked at the birth, 
 they might have solved the problem easier. Hence 
 doubt the second was awarded the reverend doctor. 
 
 The auld fo'k, wha understood his worth, said that 
 ne'er a ane wha had meddled wi' him had done weel 
 in the warl' ; something had been seen on every ane 
 o' them, and their chastisement had been inflicted by 
 a high hand, aye, an unseen hand ! A' his admirers 
 were single-hearted toward him ; they followed him, 
 and fed on the sound of his voice. I heard a very 
 talented couple of worshippers one day wishing to 
 persuade each other of the personal merits of their 
 respective preachers. The one stood for Dr John 
 Ritchie, wha at that time was in the Antiburgher 
 denomination, in the Clark's Lane, Kilmaraock (after- 
 wards of Potter Row, Edinburgh); and the other
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 53 
 
 stood for Dr M'Kinlay of the Laigh Kirk. They 
 were both working upon hearsay, till one more 
 sensible than the other, said : " I'se tell ye what ; 
 come ye half a day wi' me an' hear mine, an' I'll 
 gang half a day wi' you an' hear yours." " That's a' 
 fair enough, but I cou'dna think to sit half a day an' 
 hear yon roarin' Eadical o' yours," was the answer. 
 " That may be true, but no fair," said the first speaker ; 
 " however, there's nae use in me gaun to lose half a 
 day listenin' to Dr M/Kinlay, for he chews his words 
 that way that I dinna ken a word he says ; I hear 
 naething but sound coming out o' him !" This nettled 
 the doctor's man, who now assumed his proper height 
 in carcase; and in intellect. Eaising his right hand, 
 and looking in the face of his antagonist, he said : 
 " I'se tell ye what it is, sir, I wad stand to the middle 
 in a midden wi' pleasure for an hour, although I 
 heard naething but the sound o' him ; the sound o' 
 his voice does my heart gude !" 
 
 I thought to mysel', how difficult must be the task 
 of the missionaries where they have a new religion to 
 offer to an ignorant people, when two professed Chris- 
 tians only worship their minister, and show such gross 
 superstition in a hearing of sound without sense. 
 
 Doctor M'Kinlay married me near to fifty years 
 ago. After he had done his part of the business, he 
 sat with us for a while, and on that occasion he spoke 
 of the ordination of marriage some mysterious
 
 54 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 something that brought the minds to union ; and to 
 illustrate what he meant he told us an anecdote of a 
 clergyman who had a servant girl, and she was very 
 pious. He was rather the reverse ; he took suppers 
 out among his parishioners, and came home late 
 whiles. One night when he came home a little 
 hearty, his servant was sitting by the fire reading her 
 Bible. To try her, he asked if she had any objection 
 to play at a game of cards. She had none! He 
 never played but for money, and nothing less than a 
 guinea a game. She had no objections even to that: 
 she had saved ten guineas, and had it in her chest. 
 The minister took ten games running, and with them 
 the ten guineas. She bore the loss without wincing 
 or murmur. He asked if she was not sorry at losing 
 her all. She said no; she had risked her all and had 
 lost it by his superior skill. Well, he thought, a 
 woman who could bear the loss of her all so quietly 
 would make an excellent partner for life ; so he there 
 and then proposed, and she accepted. Oh yes ! there 
 is always some unseen little thing to bring minds 
 together. I thought at the time of offering to swap 
 experiences with him. However, I held my peace. 
 
 When such scenes were enacting, clergymen had a 
 power in our land, which is now transferred to the 
 rural police. These chase callants when they break 
 the commandments, and the clergymen talk to their 
 fathers and mothers when they come to the kirk.
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF JOHN M'GHEE THE PROPHET HIS 
 SYMPATHY WITH THE DEVIL, AND HIS ABHORRENCE 
 OF DR M'KINLAY FOR ENDEAVOURING TO CHEAT HIM, 
 OR RATHER FOR HIS MEAN ESTIMATE OF HIM. 
 
 JOHN M'GHEE, the prophet, as he called himself, 
 was born at Dunmurray, near to Belfast. He 
 felt that he had a mission to perform, and he went 
 about it with great earnestness. He stood for the 
 right. He stood for truth. He stood for the despised 
 and neglected. He stood to put away false worship ; 
 and to destroy clay gods. John stated what he stood 
 for at the different diets of his haudin' forth. His 
 appearance commanded respect. Tall and upright in 
 figure ; clear blue eyes that seemed of celestial bear- 
 ing; there was an intensity in his look. He was 
 long faced, clear complexioned, had a Duke of Wel- 
 lington-like nose, thin lipped, with arched eyebrows, 
 and a long flowing beard snowy white, and hair of 
 the same complexion flowing over his shoulders from 
 his manly old head. The brain seemed to have been 
 touched at some time ; yet out of that countenance 
 shone with a stern brilliancy a mind above the com- 
 mon mould. His dress was simple : a grey greatcoat
 
 56 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 covered him from the head to the heels, overtopped 
 by an old hat that had outlived many fashions. His 
 mission was to speak to humanity ; and that some of 
 them at least might know where he was, he carried a 
 long white iron horn, with which he in three length- 
 ened blasts summoned all who were within the range 
 of its sound. That he held to be the first point of 
 duty! 
 
 On the appearance of his audience, the opening 
 sentence came. His texts were from some corner 
 of his large experience in the world, where he had 
 walked for near to four-score years before I heard 
 him, which is now beyond fifty. He stood in the 
 Cross of Kilmamock ; gave three stretching blasts on 
 his horn till his eyes were well started in their sockets, 
 then lifting his arm to its full stretch, and holding up 
 the horn, calling the attention of his audience to it as 
 he turned it round gracefully, he opened his harangue : 
 " I have blown that horn in the face of the Prince 
 Regent, on the plains of Windsor, twenty-five years 
 ago, and I tould him that Napoleon Bonaparte was 
 one of them bastes mentioned in the book of Revela- 
 tions, that his every footmark was there noted long 
 before his coming." Then John gave the proofs from 
 prophecy; and it required a prophet to understand 
 them aright. The Prince Regent smiled and called 
 him a fool. " That may all be true," said John, "but 
 you are not a Judge. Your Highness is a baste so
 
 LITE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 57 
 
 worthless every way that, even had you been alive 
 when the Bible was writ, they would have took no 
 notice of ye." John sketched out his pictures with a 
 fine freedom, and coloured them with rich hues of 
 native brilliancy. 
 
 The Devil was a hero whose dignity was hurt by 
 paltry villains, quite sufficient to claim John's 
 sympathy for injured majesty. Turning his head 
 every airt, and his eyes on each member of his con- 
 gregation, he shouted, " The Devil ! the Devil ! the 
 poor Devil ! I'm sorry for him ! He's sorely lied 
 on. He's made a spitbox of for every silly black- 
 guard ; he's blamed for everything that is done in the 
 shape of a dirty trick all over the world, when he 
 was not there at all, at all. His name, his power, 
 and even his taste is dishonoured. The Devil would 
 be ashamed to do the trifling, dirty things the Clergy 
 impute to him, and they tache their flocks to blame 
 him for all their dirty, shabby shortcomings. The 
 Devil could tache the Clergy to respect the ninth 
 commandment, for they really do bear false witness 
 against him. Sure I'm sorry for him, for he's an 
 honest Devil, and minds his own affairs. Now, every 
 man carries his own devil in his own breast, and if 
 he does not strive to get him out he'll ate him, and 
 sure many a dirty male he must have got. Man 
 seems stuffed with Pride and Poverty a poor hiding- 
 place for any devil of taste ! Pride and Poverty
 
 58 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 Pride and Poverty seem to be the birthright of man ! 
 In his sentimentality, his selfishness, and his pre- 
 sumption, he sets up impertinence both to Deity and 
 the Devil. Pride began the war, and Poverty ended 
 it ; Pride opens your large shops, and Poverty shuts 
 them ; Pride makes your dandy lasses, and Poverty 
 your dirty wives." 
 
 In John's audience were a number of dirty wives 
 frae the Foregate, and a few male members of the 
 Cross attenders. Among the rest was a whitely-faced 
 shoemaker, whose fair complexion struggled to make 
 its way through the dirt. I stood near to John, and 
 caught the sentences as they fell frae his lips, and 
 was quite charmed. I look'd in the old man's eyes 
 till I felt quite under mesmeric influence not yet 
 destroyed. The shoemaker was fond of laughing at 
 whatsoever he could not comprehend, and rather 
 raised a disturbing influence in the meeting, making 
 John to feel that his pearls had been flung to un- 
 worthy feeders. Part of their fun was helped by the 
 earnest looks which John and I were giving to each 
 other. John looked on his audience for a short time 
 in silence, by way of taking stock. Then, bursting 
 on them like a volcano, he said : " Get away home, 
 you dirty latherons, and take the marks of your 
 thumb-nails out o' your mutches, and allow your 
 cattle to live in peace !" And to the laughing shoe- 
 maker he turned, and, with great gravity, said, " Get
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 59 
 
 away home to your garret, you lily-faced, dirty devil. 
 Take your pegging-awl and pick the devil out o' the 
 heart o' ye, else your own devil will ate ye, and a 
 poor male he'll have o' ye he's a dead devil if he 
 do. You would poison two devils, you dirty lump of 
 ignorant humanity. It's a miracle to me that the 
 poor devil is not dead long ago, considering the bad 
 lodgings and poor feeding that he has been doomed 
 to suffer. The clergy have an outside devil which 
 sarves the whole bundle of them. He's of the roaring 
 lion shape, but the individual devil that claims his 
 own man is the most dangerous." Then turning to 
 me, he looked me full in the face, and said : " Young 
 man, you are the only hopeful one in this meeting ; 
 you listen : you'll learn." I had given John a penny 
 before he came to this conclusion. 
 
 John gave out other three blasts from his horn, 
 and with great emphasis, said : " Listen now, and I'll 
 tell you a case of clerical impertinence. You all 
 know Doctor M'Kinlay, a man who has unhorsed the 
 Almighty; sure, and the devil has got the upper 
 hand of him. His flock worship him, and he knows 
 it; and didn't he insult the devil to his face by 
 wishing to bribe him. This time twenty-five year I 
 tould him also that Napoleon Bonaparte was men- 
 tioned in the Book of Eevelations as a baste. He 
 also called me a fool. "Well, I told him that I was 
 not charging the world anything for my folly ; but I
 
 60 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 was not such a fool as offer a paltry tribe to the devil 
 in hopes of decavin' him and getting a good character 
 from the poor for being a big-hearted man. It was 
 like a thafe turning king's evidence in a case of 
 plunder." " What do you mane ?" said he. "Why, 
 sur," said I, " the last time I was here, weren't you 
 leagued with millers, farmers, and forestallers ; and 
 didn't you keep up your male which you got as your 
 wages for spakin' to the poor aye, till it was blue- 
 moulded ; and then didn't you turn about to the poor 
 when they came for your mouldy male, and sell it to 
 them a hap'orth under market price, after you had 
 leagued with others to raise the food beyond its 
 value ; and you turn round to bribe the devil in that 
 paltry way. Oh, no, sur, the devil will despise you 
 for setting such a low estimate on his character. 
 Believe me, sur, that your heart is as mouldy as your 
 male was, else you could not have insulted the poor 
 of your flock and the poor devil in the same breath." 
 John finished his rambling remarks, giving one 
 grand blast on his trumpet-horn, and glided slowly 
 away. His first and last impressions are embodied 
 in the same meeting and parting. He was the first 
 orator I ever heard make a dignified defence for the 
 devil.
 
 CHAPTEE X, 
 
 A RADICAL REFORMEK. 
 
 JOHN GLEN PAEKEE, of Asloss, was an heritor 
 in the Parish of Kilmarnock. He was honest 
 and earnest in expression, saying what he thought at 
 the moment of utterance. His perceptive faculties 
 were like lightning, and the impressions formed came 
 forth like thunder. Silly people called him Daft 
 Jock Parker; but by whatever name he was called, 
 his walk through life put many squires and simpering 
 gentlemen to the blush. He was like a man who 
 had a mission on earth, going into duty with his 
 whole soul, and with his eyes open. He had long a 
 strong desire to represent some portion of his native 
 land in the British Parliament; and why not Kil- 
 marnock? He announced his desire to the world, 
 and named some wrongs which he was prepared to 
 right. He had a rare knack at riving the robes aff 
 rascality; and as for the lads wha wore them, his 
 proposition was to whip the wretches naked through 
 the world. His motto was something like old 
 General Brown's "Death or glory; no mercy." The 
 pulsation of his brain was sometimes rapid, and
 
 62 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 under its hurrying influence his ideas were most 
 bright. 
 
 I was standing in the shop of Messrs T. & J. 
 Clark, shoe manufacturers, one day when he came in 
 very much excited. Mr James Clark was present, 
 and Mr Parker hurriedly said, " Mr Clark, I wish to 
 see your best workman." Mr Clark pointed to me, 
 and said, " There he is." Mr Parker turned his eyes 
 full in my face, saying, " I wish you, sir, to under- 
 stand me. I want a pair of shoes for an express 
 purpose. I mean to go to the British Parliament to 
 represent the people, and as a preparatory step I 
 wish to be armed at the feet. When I take my seat 
 I will hold up my feet. Some Members, you see, sir, 
 go there and hold up their heads, but ill prepared for 
 the task; but I will hold up my feet, and call the 
 attention of the House to the fact that I got those 
 shoes made by Mr Clark's best workman (so you see, 
 sir, you will be first represented), and by my orders 
 he made for me that pair of shoes easy for my feet, 
 broad in the bottoms, double-soled, heavy and hard. 
 I come thus before you armed to the heels, to trample 
 down corruption, and will do it without mercy. I 
 have no hope in half measures." 
 
 Mr Parker was a member of session, and took a 
 lively interest in the welfare of the poor. At one of 
 their monthly meetings it was announced that two 
 old paupers had died on one day. Mr Parker lifted
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 63 
 
 his white hat, gave it three turns round his head, and 
 shouted "Hurrah!" The Eev. George Smith, of the 
 second charge, reproved him sharply for such wanton 
 and cruel behaviour. "Wanton and cruel," echoed 
 the heritor, "I rejoice that two souls have escaped 
 from the starvation of your hungry session and gone 
 to glory! You, sir, dare to teach me how to behave! 
 I do rejoice, sir, and give another cheer: Hurrah! 
 Dr M'Kinlay's an orator ; that's no disparagement to 
 you, Mr Smith. Dr M/Kinlay preaches his sermons ; 
 that's no disparagement to you, Mr Smith. You read 
 your sermons ; that's disparaging to you, Mr Smith, 
 You read well, Mr Smith ; and you are well paid 
 for't, Mr Smith. After this, wait till I ask your 
 opinion as to how I am to behave myself in this 
 session, Mr Smith. Till you can behave yourself 
 like a clergyman in the pulpit, don't offer any of your 
 schoolboy impertinence to me, Mr Smith!" 
 
 About this time it was proposed to get up a town- 
 mission in Kilmarnock. All parties seemed willing 
 to join in the good work. A public meeting was 
 called, to take place in the Low Church. Ten 
 clergymen and John Glen Parker were on the plat- 
 form. There was a thin attendance otherwise. Dr 
 M'Kinlay was in the chair. He read the placard 
 that had been posted through the town calling the 
 meeting, making a few remarks thereon. He said 
 that Kilmarnock might be likened to a garden that
 
 64 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 was generally well cultivated, yet in it there were 
 wild spots wherein had grown up wild weeds; and 
 this meeting was intended to bring in help to the 
 gardeners, so that the wild spots might be cultivated, 
 and the wild weeds become flowers in the enlarged 
 garden. He joined heartily in the scheme, and would 
 propose that every effort be given to bring about this 
 laudable undertaking. 
 
 John Glen Parker seemed fidgety, and would fain 
 have risen to his feet; but Mr Hamilton, of the 
 High Church, rose slowly, and, as he said, cordially 
 seconded the motion that a missionary be appointed 
 to help the gardeners, and he had no doubt that the 
 sum essential to pay him would be easily raised. 
 They would apply to the ladies, who were never behind 
 in a good work ! It was not only a good work, but a 
 great work: it was a work for God. Those wild 
 weeds spoken of, growing in wild corners of the 
 garden, were figurative weeds that might yet be 
 flowers. Every one of those weeds had an immortal 
 soul; and the worth of a soul was beyond price. No 
 man could set limits to its value; and that those 
 souls should be brought into the garden was the 
 intention of this meeting. Help to the gardeners 
 was thus needed, so he proposed that the good work 
 be entered into without delay. 
 
 The Kev. George Lawson was rising slowly, but John 
 Glen Parker made a nervous jerk and took the place
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 65 
 
 before him. Though John made his appearance 
 among the men of mystery, it was about evident he 
 had not been on the list as a speaker. He was in a 
 highly-nervous, excited state. It was the first time 
 he had ever appeared in public to address any 
 audience, and he stotted and stammered sairly. 
 Fancy a sort of word-canter approaching a gallop: 
 " Mr President, ladies and gentlemen " [among stots, 
 bangs, jerks, stares, and brainges at a rapid and 
 unequal pace, came forth the best speech of the 
 evening] : " Mr President, ladies and gentlemen, as I 
 said before, this is the first time ever I appeared in 
 public as a speaker. I am nervous, and will likely 
 make a failure. When coming before you, among 
 so many talented orators, I must feel my littleness; 
 but my zeal is equal to the best of them. I find 
 myself getting very feeble ; but, ladies and gentlemen, 
 if I should fail, what wonder ? The great Athenian 
 speaker of old, the first time he came before the 
 world as an orator, he failed. What of that? Did 
 he lose heart? No such thing. He went back to 
 his lamp, and set to work more earnestly than ever. 
 The next time he made his appearance, what was the 
 result? He eclipsed every speaker present. Then, 
 should I fail to-night, I will not find myself alone; 
 but one thing I know, I have an address written at 
 home, and if I could deliver it to you here as I have 
 it written there, it would please every man, woman, 
 F
 
 66 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 and child present. Some of you may be saying, 
 'Then why not bring it and read it? No, ladies and 
 gentlemen, I would rather prefer falling down in the 
 middle of my address than copy that abominable 
 schoolboy-like practice of some clergymen, whose 
 example I despise." (And at this moment he took 
 an unmistakeable look at Mr Smith.) " Ladies and 
 gentlemen, Dr M'Kinlay has given us a fine figure 
 homely and truthful. We all understand such 
 figures. There is no use borrowing foreign vines and 
 fig-trees when we have gardens at home. I don't 
 expect you have all of you gardens, but you ought. 
 I myself have a garden, and I keep a gardener; and 
 if the lazy rascal were to go whistling through the 
 garden with his hands in his pockets while the 
 weeds were growing, and then at the end of the year 
 come to me with a long, whining face, telling me that 
 the garden was in a sad condition and he would 
 require help, and expect me to pay for it ; or what 
 would the ladies of Kilmarnock think of the heartless, 
 lazy fellow, were he to come down among them, call 
 a meeting like this, and state the fact to them of his 
 dirty garden, ' lazy gardener' being all the excuse he 
 had to oner? Would you think that the ladies would 
 feel complimented? If the lazy fellow did not feel 
 ashamed of himself in either case, he ought to do so. 
 My answer to him would be : ' You shall have help, 
 you lazy vagabond, but I'll keep it off your wages,'
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 67 
 
 that is, if he had not been slyer than me, and had 
 lifted his wages before he wrought for them. Now, 
 ladies and gentlemen, don't you think that I would 
 just be as bad as he, to allow any such things to take 
 place under my own eyes ? There is no use keeping 
 a whistling gardener when you can get mavises to do 
 that part of the work gratis. 
 
 "Ladies and gentlemen, I find that I am so 
 nervous that I am losing sight of my subject ; but if 
 I understand the statement aright, the garden is in a 
 bad condition. Pity that it should be so: lazy 
 gardeners and dirty garden. Now, it is our duty to 
 see to the matter, and have the garden put to rights. 
 I should wish to astonish you, ladies and gentlemen, 
 first, or rather Doctor M'Kinlay first, and you next. 
 Now, Doctor M'Kinlay, prepare to be astonished. 
 You have given a beautiful figure of this place as a. 
 garden. What I wish to know is, what right have 
 you to use that figure ? When were you through the 
 garden last, to know whether there be wild spots 
 wherein have grown up wild weeds ? The figure I'm 
 satisfied with, but how have you ascertained the fact 
 is what I wish to know ? I myself was through part 
 of the garden lately ; I called at least on five hundred 
 families. The first question I put to them was 
 'Well, what church do you attend?' Most of them 
 said that they went to the Low Church. I believed 
 that to be nonsense. The Low Church would not
 
 68 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 have contained them in addition to what is its usnal 
 attendance. Had the most of them said that they 
 went to no church, they might have been as near the 
 truth ; hut the people about the Low Church don't 
 want the poor they have no place to receive them. 
 I have seen a few of the individuals hanging about 
 the passes like farmers' dogs kept at an outside from 
 the congregation, as it were. Next question I put 
 was ' Well, does your minister visit you regularly ?' 
 " Now, ladies and gentlemen, listen ; and Doctor 
 M'Kinlay, prepare you to be astonished ! One case 
 a solitary case out of five hundred, a poor old 
 woman said to me that Doctor M'Kinlay visited her 
 nineteen years ago ! That's when you were through 
 the garden last, sir. The garden is still a beautiful 
 figure : I only wanted to know what right you had 
 to use it. An immortal soul has been snivled about, 
 with its wonderful worth, no man being able to set a 
 price on't in money value. We have had evidence 
 that the gardeners care very little for immortal souls, 
 else there would have been fewer wild spots. Every 
 gardener knows the value of a good dinner and of a 
 shilling. If a dinner is stolen and to be eaten, you 
 will get a gardener to come and ask a blessing on't 
 and help you to eat it, and wash it down with strong 
 drink ; or should the dinner be taken on, never to be 
 paid for which is rather meaner than stealing your 
 gardener is there in full bloom to eat, drink, and
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 69 
 
 rejoice with you. But if an immortal soul is about 
 to quit one of those weeds, so figuratively fancied 
 in uncultivated ground say ahout the Capon Close 
 or Woodrow's Wynd, and a gardener were wanted 
 to give it a convoy, it being torn up to be transplanted 
 in better soil, the gardener would soon find apology, 
 and recommend that Eobin Wylie would do ! Gang 
 for Eobin ; he has a big heart I 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, let us look this matter in 
 the face. If we credit the report of the gardeners as 
 true, wild spots are in the garden ; wild weeds grow 
 there. Cultivate and transplant, and some of those 
 weeds, if brought into the garden, might soon be 
 greater ornaments to the garden than the gardeners 
 themselves. The greatest persecutor ever the Church 
 had, when transplanted into the garden by grace, 
 became its greatest ornament So may it be in this 
 case. Our desire is that the work be dona One 
 plan is, that the ladies be applied to. Every body 
 of worshippers is to be applied to. My zeal in many 
 cases is well known to you all, and in this case 
 I'll make a call on my breeches pocket 'Well, 
 pocket, what say you?' 'A sovereign for the work,' 
 says my breeches pocket. What say the gardeners ? 
 Come, gardeners, be more than talkers ; be doers of 
 the Word. Mark you, gentlemen, this is your own 
 casa What say you to it ? not a word ! Heartless 
 as well as lazy. I've lost my speech I'm done."
 
 70 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 George Lawson spoke next, but went over too 
 much field after he had nothing to say. He prefaced 
 his address by saying that he was like an old 
 philosopher who had determined to write a book. 
 He gathered up all his materials, such as paper, pens, 
 and ink. Then he took his seat at the table to begin 
 to write, and it was only then he discovered that the 
 ancients had written all he was going to say long 
 before he was born, and had done it better than he 
 could have done it. Yet when he was on his feet he 
 might be allowed to say a few words in approbation 
 of what had been better said than he could have done 
 it ; and he talked for an hour after confessing that he 
 had nothing to say. 
 
 Mr Campbell, the Independent minister, spoke a 
 few sentences, taking a low and commonplace view 
 of the scheme proposed. With respect to youths, the 
 most of them that they might reach by Sabbath 
 schools or otherwise would be something like washing 
 pigs: so soon as they went back to the old swine 
 they would just begin to wallow in the mire in con- 
 cert with their parents. Some harsh critics named 
 him Swine Jock after that event. 
 
 The Mission was formed, and Mr Banks, a young 
 man from the West coast, was the first missionary. 
 
 John Glen Parker is now dead. His life was long, 
 simple, and earnest. He wrote some peculiar letters 
 and lectures on passing events, always making short
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 71 
 
 work with whatever stood in the way of improvement. 
 As a measure of Eadical reform, he offered a home in 
 his house to the Queen and Prince Albert during the 
 term of their natural lives, and would not charge 
 the country a penny for their keep. As for Lord 
 Brougham, he would apprentice him to a baker, there 
 to learn how to make his bread in an honest way ; 
 and as for Sir Eobert Peel, he would apprentice him 
 to his friend Andrew M'Kerrow, agricultural imple- 
 ment maker at Beansburn, where he would have 
 twelve shillings a week and his meat. All the rest 
 who hung upon the labour of the country he would 
 teach to work for themselves ; and there could be no 
 wholesome reform till such things were accomplished. 
 Such were a few of John's advanced notions of duty 
 to his country in her clerical and political phases. 
 I have delivered his own speech in the missionary 
 meeting in his own presence while dining with him 
 in Tower House. He confessed that such notions 
 had run through his head, but he did not think he 
 had given utterance to them. This was more than a 
 quarter of a century after. It was evident that John 
 did not deliver the speech which he had written at 
 home, as he took his key-note from Dr M'Kinlay's 
 remarks. Peace to his memory !
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 A BEGGARMAN'S MEETING; OR FRATERNISING 
 BY THE ROADSIDE. 
 
 FEW people who talk of the distance between the 
 king on the throne and the beggar on the dung- 
 hill seem to think that the greatest dignity may be 
 found with him in the latter situation ; and few who 
 serve the beggar at their door, or slam it in his face, 
 think that their height, weight, and worth may be 
 weighed by him as he glides or hobbles from their 
 threshold. 
 
 By way of illustration, I here record an accidental 
 meeting, which took place at the spot where Tanna- 
 hill took his stand when composing the song of 
 " London's Bonnie Woods and Braes." On a beauti- 
 ful summer morning, while moving on foot from 
 Kilmarnock to Newmilns, I sat down on a humplock 
 of broken stones in a quiet corner of the road in front 
 of London Castle. The past feelings that had been 
 sung, and the present beauties that I felt and saw, 
 wrought into a pretty picture in my mind. I felt 
 myself alone ; no one was in sight to divide the inte- 
 rest with me. I felt as much landlord of the whole
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 73 
 
 as Eobinson Crusoe did in his island before meeting 
 with his Man Friday; and at that moment I was 
 about as much surprised as he was when a rustling 
 among some bushes near me separated the branches 
 of the clump, and forth came a figure. His every 
 look and motion was full of pictorial beauty. He 
 might have seen seventy summers; he leant on a 
 staff and crutch ; his left leg dangled loose from Ms 
 body ; he was dressed in hodden-grey, mealy, dirty, 
 and sair worn ; his hat was of quite the Spanish 
 pattern often worn by brigands, which form it seemed 
 to have attained by being sat and rolled upon. His 
 face you could almost imagine was hodden-grey also : 
 clear sloe-black eyes, whose merry twinkle looked at 
 you and into you, and played among the mirthful 
 features of his face in restless grandeur. His beard 
 was fully a month undisturbed, and had a stubble- 
 field aspect. Grey hair flowed down his shoulders in 
 playful forms. He advanced to within a few paces 
 without speaking ; yet had he much expressed. He 
 broke silence with freedom and composure (I was 
 smoking my pipe at the time) : " Well, sur, might I 
 have a light from you, so as we might smoke together?" 
 The form was pleasing, the utterance perfect. I re- 
 plied, " Sir, I'll not only give you a light, but a pipe, 
 tobacco, and a seat to sit on while you smoke it." 
 " You are kind, sur, but I have ill getting down and 
 worse getting up." He then and there gave me the
 
 74 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 history of his leg. Having caught cold on the 
 Pyrenees Mountains while lying in tents, rheumatism 
 seized him and unhinged his leg from his body at 
 the hip-joint. Then said I, " Sir, I'll help you down 
 and lift you up." " Well, sur, since you are so kind 
 I'll just accept your offer." So he backed against the 
 stone heap, while I took him by the oxters and gently 
 seated him, taking my place beside him. The pipes 
 were got ready, and we sat looking into each other's 
 faces, mixing the reeks so ethereally, reciprocating 
 smiles of satisfaction rare to be met with, either 
 among known or unknown friends. 
 
 After a brief sketch of the military life of the old 
 hero, who said he belonged to Glasgow, but who had 
 had a flavour of Ireland prior to his acquaintance 
 with that place, I asked a few questions pretty freely, 
 the which he answered as freely, anent lodging-house 
 effects, manners, and customs quite up to the spirit of 
 the Jolly Beggars as described by Burns. With 
 honest earnestness he popped the question, "And 
 what way are you in, lad ?" Without lifting my eyes 
 from his, I said, " Well, sir, in the meantime I'm just 
 like yoursel', seeking my meat." " Man, dear Oh," he 
 ejaculated, " but you are well put on to be that way." 
 1 said that I had tried various ways and found that 
 to keep myself clean and comfortable made the busi- 
 ness pay better, for sometimes I was asked in and 
 allowed to sit at the table with decent folk; and when
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 75 
 
 I did get into any house, T generally gave them a little 
 diversion, and they in return would ask me back. 
 Thus I was better served, and made a wide field of 
 customers that I could call on ; and as I did not take 
 meal, I was apter to get money by being clean. " Oh," 
 said he, " I don't take meal either. No, no ; I have 
 enough to do getting myself through the country with- 
 out moving a meal-store along with me. Oh, no, sur, 
 nothing but ha'pence, unless I were hungry ; then I 
 might take a bit of bread or something of that kind 
 to eat." He asked if I had tried the village as I 
 passed meaning Galston. I said, Xo, and that it 
 had a poor appearance. " Well, man, allow me to tell 
 you that you are on the wrong road. England's the 
 ' bit of ground for you ; that's the place you would soon 
 make a fortune, by attending the public-houses at 
 night. You must know that it is easier getting at the 
 gentry there than in this country. The better order 
 there go to an inn at night and take their seat by the 
 fire openly. They are fond of a little diversion ; you 
 could tell a story, sing a song, or anything else you can 
 most easily or best do. Then send round your hat. 
 Man, how they would fill it for you ! Go no farther 
 this way." I said that I was going to Newmilns, 
 where I knew that I would get my dinner. " Man, 
 dear, take my advice and turn with a full belly ; go 
 no farther that way, for, believe me, it's a cauld coun- 
 try. Man, do you mind an ould song about a beggar
 
 76 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 
 
 and a queen ? Man, that's a right ould song, and a 
 God's truth. A queen cannot swagger nor get drank 
 like a beggar, nor be half so happy as I." I said that 
 I was a teetotaller and did not approve of getting 
 drunk, and that I liked a good bed. " Ah, man, but 
 you are a happy creature, for if I have three-halfpence 
 to get a glass of whisky to empty down my neck in 
 the morning, I don't care where I lie down at night." 
 At this moment a carriage went past us, when he 
 nudged me with his elbow, and said, " Look at them 
 people in that box. How much happier are we than 
 the like of them." There were three young and two 
 old ladies in the box. " Do you know, sir," said he, 
 "the like of them people get themselves as often 
 taken down in other people's houses as we do at their 
 doors. Them ould ladies are leading the young ones 
 astray making them believe that they are something, 
 while in truth they are not the equals of common 
 beggars ; but mind you, friend, they may get a lesson 
 before they go home. Should they be going to call 
 on some other upstarts, why, they are sure of it. Did 
 you ever know one of that class could put up with 
 the weakness of another ? Did you ever see any of 
 that sort call on those whom they considered beneath 
 them in society ? No, troth, you know that would 
 disfigure them ; and sure they take the right way to 
 have that done for them. Well, now, suppose that 
 they arrive at the door, of some family far above them
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 77 
 
 in society, don't you think that family knows all 
 about them where they got the carriage, how much 
 they gave for it, and whether they paid for it in cash or 
 got it on credit ? Man, dear, the likes of them people 
 look well after their neighbours' affairs, even though 
 they should forget their own. 
 
 " Well, now, suppose that at the first house they call 
 they are not sent away from the door, such as you 
 or I would be. They are taken in through spite, and 
 asked to sit down on some fine chair or sofa, as much 
 as to say, 'You have not a thing like that at home to 
 put below you.' They may even give them a glass of 
 wine or some stronger stuff, then show them through 
 their house, and be sure to point to the last new bits of 
 furniture they have been getting it may be a Turk- 
 upon-Turk bed or a new piano, or even it may be 
 them white rags round the window ! However small 
 it may be, it is meant for something to vex them. 
 0, depend upon't, they'll find some way of taking the 
 wind out of them. There is not the same honest 
 friendship among upstart gentry that there is among 
 beggars. We have nothing to fear respecting our 
 true position in the world, whereas every one of those 
 upstarts and imitators are terrified that their true 
 position be discovered ; and man, dear Oh !" he ex- 
 claimed, as he shifted his seat among the broken 
 metal, for momentary ease, " do you know that you 
 and I are better served with this seat, hard as it may
 
 78 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 be, than the like of them are with all the trash that 
 they can gather around them? We can rise and 
 leave this seat without the least reluctance, and that's 
 more than they can do with their fine chairs and 
 sofas ; and, man, even though they were lying dying 
 on their Turk-upon-Turk bed, it can afford them no 
 comfort. "What does Death care about their fine bed ? 
 He would put his head right through their Turk- 
 upon-Turk hangings, look at them where they lay, 
 and give a shout that would go to their heart, 'Hulloo ! 
 come this way.' Man, how the like of that terrifies 
 them ; they can't stand it. Now, death has no terrors 
 for such as you and I, who have nothing to leave 
 behind us, and who have been well served as we 
 went on our way." 
 
 At this moment I took from my pocket half an 
 ounce of tobacco, and folding it in two, broke it, 
 and handing one-half of it to my newly-adopted 
 friend, said to him, " I have got no money to-day yet, 
 but here is the half of my tobacco for you." He took 
 it with a grateful smile, and said, " God bless you, 
 you are a jewel of a beggar ; it's a pity we should 
 part." 
 
 A gleam of gladness and gratitude burst from him 
 as he ejaculated his blessing, mixed with his power 
 of perception : " Do you know, sur, when I looked 
 through the bushes at you as you sat smoking alone, 
 I knew by the way you put the reek out of your
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTEE. 79 
 
 head that you were of the right sort, and that you 
 had a heart in you ! Had you been sitting staring at 
 a book or gazing at a newspaper, I would have 
 scorned to have spoken with you." Time was up ; 
 so I lifted the old man to his props, when he went 
 on at a slow frog-leap for Galston, and I went toward 
 Newmilns in company with the Kilmarnock post, to 
 whom I related our conversation. He was so pleased 
 that he said he would give the name of "The Beggar- 
 man's Humplock" to the stoneheap on which we sat ! 
 He said, " I'll show it to the school weans, and tell 
 them that is its name, and they'll soon fix it." 
 
 I was passing from Xewmilns one day long after, 
 when I heard some schoolboys disputing on the road 
 about what place something had happened, when one 
 answered that it was just at the Beggarman's Hump- 
 lock. I was pleased to think that a cairn remained 
 as a memento of our meeting. The post died in 
 Kilmarnock Jail some time after that. The philo- 
 sophical beggar in the nature of things will have got 
 his last awmas, while I am recording his logic as a 
 legacy to society.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 DISEASE IN A BASKET. 
 
 THIS chapter shall be sacred to the memory of 
 Michael Campbell, who was- another illustrator 
 of low life. He was keen in perception, homely in 
 comparisons, and candid in his conclusions. He was 
 a tall, upright, hard-boned, earnest-looking Irishman, 
 who at one time lived in Kilmarnock. In manner 
 he was polite, strictly honest in his dealings, and 
 spoke his thoughts with modesty and manliness. 
 What think you of that for an Irishman's careckter? 
 People who were on familiar terms with him called 
 him Mickie, whose home at tunes seemed to be 
 disturbed by evil spirits, which were like to upset 
 his philosophy. One night when the chapel bell had 
 tolled twelve, Mickie's wife came hurriedly to the 
 street, as if she had risen hurriedly from bed. 
 Shortly after, Mickie came with a quick step to the 
 door, dressed in his shirt, looking as many airts as 
 Eob Roy did, and saw as little to comfort him. He 
 made a short but emphatic soliloquy: "Hell has 
 taken possession of this house ; if daylight were here, 
 I'd take advice." He went in and shut the door.
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 81 
 
 Before breakfast, Mickie arrived in Bank Street at 
 the door of Dr Smith, who was then a magistrate. 
 His nephew, a doctor also, was looking out at the 
 window, and seeing desperation marked in Mickie's 
 face, and the tremendous pace with which he reached 
 the door, answered the nervous rap made for admit- 
 tance. The first question by the anxious inquirer 
 was, "Is his honour within?" The answer was 
 "Yes," and the doctor turned to inform his uncle 
 that he was wanted. Mickie, however, had followed, 
 and at once stood in the presence of the magistrate, 
 who, when turning round, seemed to recognise a 
 weel-ken'd face, and at once asked, " Weel, what is't 
 now?" "It's my wife, sur." "What about her 
 now?" "She's going to the devil, sur body and 
 sleeves and all!" "What's taking her there?" 
 " Licker, yer honour." " Well, I wadna advise you 
 to lieker, but if you and she canna agree, ye might 
 leave her for a while." Here Mickie changed his 
 tone of look and speech, and standing up erect, said 
 "What, sur; lave my own house the house for 
 which I pay rint ? Never, sur. Shure and is that 
 all the consolation you have to give me ? I might as 
 well have staid at home. Shure, now, and your 
 honour might know that although I were to take 
 your advice and lave her, I would be sneaking after 
 her before two weeks went over my head, and asking 
 her to take me back again ; and yer honour ought to- 
 G
 
 82 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 know that I would lose all power over my own house 
 ever after. Och, och ! and it's poor consolation I've 
 got for putting myself to the trouble of asking yer 
 honour's advice ;" and he retired. 
 
 Mickie dealt in bowls and other shapes of delft ; 
 was industrious and respected. He was named 
 " Mickie the Bowlman " by the neighbours. You 
 could not mistake his figure at any distance for that 
 of any other person. One day as I was on the road 
 to Irvine a journey I always performed on foot I 
 saw Mickie before roe. Being fond of company, and 
 knowing his to be the best, I made up to him and 
 opened an inquiry as to his health, and then made a 
 commentary as to his prospects. His basket was well 
 filled, and on his back he had an empty bag. " Well, 
 Michael," said I, " should you be successful to-day 
 you have a sore day's work before you. You have a 
 heavy basket out, and should you get barter for the 
 goods you will have a heavy burden home." " Troth, 
 sur, and you are right. Well, do you know that it 
 makes my basket feel lighter to have that sentence of 
 sympathy spoken to me ? How few people who are 
 dressed like you condescend to speak to a poor man 
 like me ! The most of them fly past me as if I were 
 durt. .And do you know that there are a set of young 
 fellows whose whole power seems to be in their legs, 
 and in the clothes on their backs ? whether these be 
 paid or not is none of my business ; but perhaps their
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 83 
 
 tailor will know. Man, dear Oh, some of them pass 
 me on the way with such a whiz that the very wind 
 of them is like to blow me off the footpath. Now, 
 whatever they may think of me I have great sym- 
 pathy with them, or any other busket-up fools who 
 have not got a proper education. Now that's a thing 
 that's much talked about, and little understood. Ocli, 
 dear Oh, and it's not at the school that a proper educa- 
 tion 's to be got. Oh, no ; it's when you begin to go 
 from door to door, such as I have to do it's then you 
 get it, and it's there you have to take it. 
 
 " I sometimes think that if I had the taching of 
 them young whizzing fellows that I was speaking 
 about, the first lesson I would give them would be 
 humility, and I would go right easy about it. I 
 would just hang this basket of stoneware on their left 
 arm, the same as I have it myself, and allow the under 
 part of it to rowl away on the top of their haunch- 
 bone, and invite them to follow me all day up stairs 
 and down stairs with that and this bag on their back. 
 I would not ask them even to take a word of imper- 
 tinence at the doors, but just to take the drudgery ; 
 and I can assure you that they would sleep sounder 
 at night, and have less pride in them ever after the 
 first lesson. Young people who are fostered under 
 foolish parents do you know I pity them ? Och, och, 
 foolish, uneducated mothers are a great hurt to society. 
 And, man dear, but they are easily known. I know
 
 84 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTEK. 
 
 them by their childer. Sensible mothers tache their 
 childer to respect ould age, while the childer of ignor- 
 ance snap the door in my face as if I were a mad cow ; 
 and it is vexatious to see how they turn up their im- 
 pertinent little noses in your face while they do it. 
 Do you know, sur, when I first went out, it took great 
 trouble to school myself to be able to meet the imper- 
 tinence of foolish mothers, with civility ? And do 
 you know the way I went about it ? Well, when I 
 got up in the morning I would take a spoonful of 
 sugar in my mouth, and work it to and fro with my 
 tongue till I produced the inclination to swallow, and 
 the sweetness had a charm in it ; so I soon discovered 
 that it was cheaper to swallow my own spittle than 
 to do justice with it, for had I done justice many a 
 person would have had one in their eye before night. 
 " Do you know that where I come from childer are 
 taught to respect ould age, and even poverty ? But 
 poor people seem much in the way of the gentry 
 everywhere, and there are some gentry, whom you 
 would think should know better, that treat travellers 
 with great vulgarity and impertinence. I wonder 
 what they would think were I to put on airs of great- 
 ness, and question some of them, where that they got 
 all the fine clothes and other nonsense that they are 
 in possession of, or where they were going, and what 
 business they had to do such things don't you think 
 that they would stare ? And have I not as good a
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 85 
 
 right to do so by them as any of them has to do so 
 with me ? 
 
 " Well, yonder comes ould Thornton, on his ould 
 white horse, with his ould white hat on his ould 
 white head. I had a bit of conversation with him on 
 this road, some two years ago, and from that day till 
 this he does not know me, at least he pretends so. 
 He always looks over the other hedge when we meet. 
 His horse knows me, though, and takes a look at me as 
 I pass." We met, and the old gentleman seemed to see 
 something interesting over the hedge, while the horse 
 turned his head toward Mickie and gave a sort of 
 suppressed snort. " Didn't I tell ye ? Well, as I 
 was telling you of our conversation, it was that year 
 of the cowleria. I was going down the road the same 
 as I am doing to-day, when that ould fellow comes 
 forward to me on his ould horse, the same as if he 
 was going to trample me down or ate me ; and look- 
 ing down on me like thunder, he says, in a terrible 
 voice, ' Hulloo, sur, where the devil are you going 
 with that damned ould basket of yours, carrying dis- 
 ase through the country to poison dacent people ? 
 Ar'nt you ashamed of yoursel' ?' said he. I looked 
 up in his face, and answered him mildly, ' I'm going 
 to try and sell my wares, sur, endeavouring to make 
 a living, although it is hard work. Do ye mean to 
 deal with me ?' ' No, sur,' said he, < but you ought 
 to be stopped.' ' Indeed !' said I, and just looked up
 
 86 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 
 
 in his face the same as I am doing in yours just now. 
 [Mickie's face at this moment was worth looking at 
 what humour and satire were expressed in his one 
 look!] And, sez L, 'Sur, was you ever baptized?' 
 ' What o' that ?' sez he. ' Oh, nothm',' said I ; ' only, 
 had you been baptized you had no need to be afeard 
 that God Almighty would require the loan of my ould . 
 basket to send disase to you; for He knows right 
 well that I have enough to do carrying my own goods, 
 and He is quite able to do His own work without my 
 help, altho' I cannot do it without His ! And allow 
 me to tell you, sur, that there is no more disase in 
 my basket than there is in the crown of your ould 
 white hat. No, sur, not so much, for there's a 
 disased head in the hat, and there's no such pollution 
 in my basket. And, sur, let me tell you that, had 
 justice been done, I would have had that ould hat in 
 barter three years ago ; but, sur, if you wish to be 
 thought a good man with a great heart, why not 
 make a donation of your oidd hat to the soup 
 kitchen : it would make a right pot of soup to the 
 poor, and they would give it you back claue, and you 
 might have some right wear out of it before it came 
 to my turn to get it !' Man, dear, when he found 
 that I could tache him a lesson, he put his heel to 
 his horse's side and left me ; and, as I tould ye, has 
 not looked at me since. Proud fellows like him 
 don't thank their tachers, but I have the satisfaction
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 87 
 
 to know that I finished his education in one lesson. 
 Now, wouldn't it been but kindly in him to have 
 touched his hat to me and said, ' How are ye to-day, 
 Michael ? Good luck to ye to-day.' But no, he 
 went his way and I went mine, 
 
 "Well, I walked on to the village of Dreghorn, 
 just where I am going to-day; and, man, isn't it 
 curious how those people who think themselves 
 something in the world should have all one rhyme, 
 like jackdaws ? Well, that day, before I got forward 
 to Dreghorn just at the road where you turn down 
 to Caperingstane who do you think should meet me 
 there but a little bustling man, like a bag of soot tied 
 with a white cloth I He had been taught the same 
 lilly-loo about disase in a basket This was the 
 clargyman of the village, who set himself up in front 
 of me as something to be looked at and listened to. 
 As he put the question to me, I put on a face of this 
 sort at him [it was an improvement on the face he 
 made at old Thornton; there was more of the comic 
 in it], and, sez I, ' Sur, was you ever baptised ?' 
 Dear Oh, when I asked that simple question at him, 
 how he turned and run as if the devil had been after 
 him I He ran into the village, beat again the 
 windows and the doors, shouting, 'Shut your 
 windows, bar your doors, for there's a man coming 
 with that mortal disase in a basket ; save yourselves, 
 and shut him out.'
 
 88 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 "Well, do you know, when I rached the village 
 all the doors in it were shut against me, barring 
 David Eobb's and James Garven's, men you know 
 very well. Now, sur, that was one day's labour lost 
 to me through a pitiable state of ignorance ; and I'll 
 refer to you, as a sensible man, whether the cowleria, 
 bad as it was, would not have been a greater blessing 
 to have visited that village than to have had a 
 clargyman of that sort in^ it, who could only foster 
 up ignorance and superstition in a people far left to 
 themselves and to him ! The cowleria would have 
 swept the whole away, and been kinder to them than 
 if left to his charge. I would rather see human 
 beings swept off the face of the earth by any sort of 
 plague than be allowed to live on it in such degrada- 
 tion and darkness of mind. Och, och ! there is much 
 to do at home among our own hathen. What could 
 be worse in any land than the conduct of ould 
 Thornton and the Dreghorn praste, so far as regards 
 myself at least. Sure I think of them with pity and 
 scorn. Now, I ask you, as a sensible man, if I have 
 not come to a just conclusion?" I tried to look wise, 
 and said " Yes f ' 
 
 " Well, belave me, sur, there is many a poor man 
 trav'ling from door to door, were his voice only to 
 rache the ears of some people who carry a high head, 
 sure it would bring them down a bit ; they might 
 blush and run like the Justice of the Pace and the
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTER. 89 
 
 parish praste when they found that there was a man 
 in front of them. Och, dear Oh, what a disased state 
 those men's religion had taught them ! Had that 
 praste been sent to his neighbour's door to get his 
 bread the same as I have to do, he would have been 
 better educated and had more sympathy with the 
 poor, and looked liker a man every way !" So said 
 Mickie.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A FIRST VISITATION. 
 
 TTTHEN" the late Dr M'Kinlay came to Kilmarnock 
 V V he was a young man, and was making his first 
 visitation among his parishioners with an elder of the 
 back quarter accompanying him in that district of 
 the town, when they came to a house where lived a 
 quiet old man who did not go to any church. Mr 
 M'Kinlay and the elder entered ; the minister, stating 
 who he was and what was his mission, inquired of 
 John if he belonged to his congregation. John, 
 shrewd enough to guess that to be a question not 
 required, said, " I rather think, sir, that the company 
 you are in makes that question needless ; but should 
 you no believe him, ye may believe me. I neither 
 belong to your congregation nor ony ither body's." 
 This plain statement opened a friendly conversation, 
 when the minister inquired if John had a family. 
 " Oh yes," said John, " I ha'e seven." " And do you 
 send them to church?" John said " No." "Do you 
 read the Scriptures to them ?" " Oh, sir, they can a' 
 read for themselves. I ha'e ta'en care to gi'e them a' 
 gude schooling sae as they may be usefu' members o"
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 91 
 
 society." That was considered so far good, but an 
 extension of opinion was pushed against John, who 
 was a far-seen Eadical long before the 1794 school ; 
 and, to save his honour and keep his political pith 
 and spiritual privilege entire, John became a teacher 
 of the young divine. The heavy artillery of John 
 rather startled the young man, who, without using 
 argument, dealt in declaring certain points and certain 
 things that John should do. John put the query: 
 " Now, sir, as a minister of the Gospel which I give 
 you credit for being sincerely suppose you had a 
 family of seven, would you teach them infidelity 
 while you yourself preach the Gospel?" "That 
 would be inconsistent." "I wad think sae, too," 
 said John ; " yet it is what you are insisting on me 
 doing." The young man became heated in the cause 
 of truth, and said to John, "I have now done my 
 duty, and will appear a witness against you at the 
 great day." "Hoot, toots, man," quo' John, "thoo 
 forgets that thoo'll be a culprit that day as weel as 
 me. I'll own guilty, and thy evidence 'ill no be 
 needed." 
 
 So ended the first and last conference of John 
 Taylor and the Rev. James M'Kinlay, sometime about 
 the year o' grace 1786.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF DAVID BERRlE. 
 " He was a rare old Irish gentleman, this boy of the olden time." 
 
 HE who stands out in bold relief from among the 
 men of his own time whose doings bear the 
 light of day, and whose sayings are quoted by multi- 
 tudes is surely, if not a great, yet a peculiar man. 
 Thousands who lived in Kilmarnock along with 
 David Berrie, and who fancied themselves of more 
 importance than he, have passed away and left no 
 mark behind them no action of theirs remembered ; 
 no saying of theirs quoted. David lived in my day : 
 I knew him well. His face made glad and gay all 
 other faces on which its presence shone. In manner 
 David was polite and placid ; pointed and plain in 
 his speech ; free from vulgarity or offence. A playful 
 pleasantry illumined his countenance as he spoke; 
 his voice was sharp and musically sweet. He was 
 small in stature, clean in person, active in movement, 
 and earnestly truthful in all things intrusted to him. 
 He never relinquished the knee-breeks. His jacket 
 was in advance of his time : it was up to the present
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 93 
 
 day, measuring about the half of his whole length, 
 and made of corduroy. His occupation, when I knew 
 him, was that of a carrier's porter and message-man 
 to several respectable grocers and spirit-dealers. A 
 quotation from David was popular in Kilmarnock. 
 People in difficulty as to the issue of some unseen 
 event when damage or loss might be sustained, if 
 advised to take a given step to avoid certain or 
 partial loss, were apt to say, when taking their own 
 way, " Well, like David Berrie, ' I'll rather risk it.' " 
 This sentence had its origin soon after David came 
 to Kilmarnock. He was seized with serious trouble, 
 and thought a-dying. The neighbour wives took a 
 kindly interest in him, seeing to his wants with 
 sisterly affection. A decent, pious, well-disposed 
 woman in the Xetherton Holm came one day to his 
 bedside, and after some kindly inquiries as to his 
 state of mind as well as bodily health, wished to 
 know if he had seen Dr M'Kinlay yet. David said 
 "No." "Wad ye no like to see him?" "Has he 
 good skill ?" inquired David. " Oh, he's a minister," 
 quo' the wife. " And what good would a look at him 
 do me?" inquired David. The good woman, in her 
 zeal for David's eternal welfare, said to him that if he 
 didna see the doctor and get him to pray for him, 
 he might be lost and that, she said, was a serious 
 matter. " Well," said David, " so it is ; but not to 
 trouble your dacent man I'll rather risk it !"
 
 94 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 David was a Roman Catholic, and had faith in his 
 own way of thinking. It is difficult to write the 
 best bits of David, as the manner was often more 
 than the matter. He stood alone in his honest 
 confidence presence of mind and strong conviction 
 stood by him. Only what he felt at the moment 
 came forth, which was the secret of his power. 
 Other people might have said the same thing, and 
 nobody seen anything droll in it ; but all that David 
 said left its mark. One day he was on the outlook 
 for a house to dwell in : he had made inquiries, and 
 was told that James Robertson had some houses to 
 let. David went direct to him. When he entered 
 Mr Eobertson's place of business, that gentleman was 
 writing. David leant his shoulder against the door- 
 post, and looking right in, said : " Mr Robison, have 
 you ever a house to let ?" Mr Robertson wrote on. 
 David, a few notes higher : " I was saying, Mr Robi- 
 son, have you ever a house to let ?" Mr Robertson 
 
 still kept writing, but hurriedly said, "Go to and 
 
 get a house." " I didn't know that you had property 
 there, Mr Robison; but it would be rather incon- 
 venient for me to live in hell and work in Kil- 
 marnock, so I'll go and look after some man who 
 has property in the town!" One day David had 
 some message to Bailie Fowlds, and was pleasantly 
 received by him. " And what may your name be ?" 
 asked the bailie. "Why, BUT, my name's Berrie."
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 95 
 
 " And what sort o' berry are ye, now ? There's rnony 
 a kind o' a berry for instance, there's a gooseberry." 
 "Deed is there," said David; "and pray what 
 may your name be ?" inquired he in return. " My 
 name's Fowlds," answered the bailie. "Hooch, 
 hooch," said David, laughing, " there's many a queer 
 kind of fowl; for instance, there's a goose without 
 the berry." The joke stood against the bailie. 
 
 Haw's Well, like David, is now out of sight. It 
 had its place in the foundation of the wall near to 
 Kilmarnock House. Many a gang of water David 
 has carried from that well ; and indeed his name is, 
 or was, by the old people closely associated with it. 
 One day he was met by an acquaintance while 
 carrying two stoups full of the charmed water. It 
 was famed for making whisky. The acquaintance 
 looked very seriously at David, and asked if that was 
 whisky he had in the stoups ? " Not yet," said 
 David, "but soon will. As soon as I reach Bailie 
 Wallace's shop it will be changed into whisky !" 
 " I wish that I had a taste of it then," said his friend. 
 "Troth, and if you believe me," said David, "you 
 will be safer with a taste of it now !" Although 
 David was no teetotaller, yet in this reply he recog- 
 nised the truths they teach. 
 
 One day I stood with David on the Cross of Kil- 
 marnock, when he observed a farmer boring his cart 
 too near to the Cross Well. " Keep your cart back
 
 96 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 from the well, if you please, sur," said David, mildly. 
 It was the time when new potatoes were plentiful, 
 and this was the twenty-second cart that was in the 
 market-place with the same commodity. " I'll put 
 my cart whaur I please," said the farmer, " in spite 
 o' a' the Eerishmen in Kilmarnoek." " Take your cart 
 somewhere else, sur; you are encroaching on the 
 rights of the ladies." "I'll loose my cart whaur I 
 I like, for you." " Well, sur, you may ; but if you 
 don't do as I bid you now, I'll put you to the trouble 
 of bringing your horse out of the stable to do it 
 again." The man took his horse from the cart, and 
 went with him to the White Hart stables ; then came 
 back and took his position beside his cart, ready 
 to serve the public. One wheel of his cart was 
 within nine inches of the well I and another man 
 were taken as witnesses by David, who went forward, 
 took off his hat, and tried to put his head between 
 the cart wheel and the well. 
 
 The space would not admit of it. Then, turning 
 to the farmer, he said firmly : " Remove your cart 
 out of that, sur." " Gae oot o' my sicht, ye Eerish 
 pest; will I no get doin' as I like here for you?" 
 " Troth an' ye won't," said David ; " I'U let you know 
 that both you and I are under the law." David 
 made another attempt to pass through before wit- 
 nesses, when the farmer laughed and said, " What's 
 that body aye tryin' to push the auld bald head o'
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEK. 97 
 
 him between the cart wheel and the well for ?" " I 
 want to keep the road clear for the ladies," said 
 David. "D'ye no see that there's a road roond the 
 ither side o' the well?" said the farmer. "There's a 
 road to hell," said David, " but that's no matter ; this 
 road is not to be obstructed : so take away your cart." 
 " I'll get the town officer," said the farmer, " and put 
 ye in jail, sir, if ye pester me ony langer." " Then," 
 said David, "yonder he is; I'll bring him to you." 
 So Mossey Wylie was hailed by David ; and when 
 he came forward, "Here," said David, "take that 
 man into the presence of a magistrate." " For what ?" 
 inquired Mossey. "For setting law and order at 
 defiance," answered David, " I give him in charge, 
 sur." The farmer's bile was up, and he called David 
 some ugly names. "Now," said David, "if you 
 choose to come before Mr Thomas Stewart, the iron- 
 monger here, he is as good as any magistrate ; it will 
 save you time and perhaps a fine." 
 
 A few paces brought them, with us witnesses, into 
 the presence of Mr Stewart. " What's ado ?" quo' 
 he. The farmer was the first to speak. "It's this 
 wasp o' an Eerish creature that'll no let me sell my 
 potatoes in peace." " He has set the law at defiance, 
 and rejoices at it," said David ; " but reserve your 
 bad manners for your defence," added David ; " I'm 
 your accuser." " You my accuser, sir ? you are a 
 disturber o' the peace: you wanted to shoot your 
 H
 
 98 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 head between my cart wheel and the Cross Well 
 there, and when ye coti'dna get it through ye raised 
 a rippet wi' me, and took witnesses, and raised a 
 crood aroond me, and got the town officer, and has 
 brocht me here. Noo, what do ye want ?" " Justice 
 to the ladies," answered David. Thomas pushed the 
 spectacles up on his brow, and said to the farmer : 
 " Keep quiet a minute. What is't, David ?" " You 
 know, Mr Stewart, as well as I do, that from time 
 immemorial the upper side of the Cross Well has 
 been the salt-market of Kilmarnock; and the old 
 law is that no cart is to be loosed for any purpose 
 whatsoever so near the well but a woman of the 
 bulkiest dimensions may pass between them without 
 let or hindrance. I tried to pass, and the man 
 mocked at me and was going to put me in jail ; so I 
 brought him here to get your advice, so as he might 
 be a little more mannerly." Thomas told the man 
 to go for his horse and remove his cart quietly, for if 
 he were taken before a magistrate he'd be sure to be 
 fined. 
 
 The man glowr'd, scarted his head, gaed for his 
 horse and removed his cart amid derision and 
 laughter, while David paced backward and forward 
 through the open space. "This," said David, "is 
 Radical Reform to take away the wrong entirely."
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF ENGLISH JAMIE. 
 
 THERE is no position in life but requires peculiar 
 power to make an individual stand out in bold 
 relief something more than an ordinary man. Who 
 names an ordinary man, and who cares about knowin;: 
 him ? What can you say of a man who resembles 
 his next neighbour? They are equals. It is only 
 when a man steps out of the common rut of events 
 that he gives his neighbours a chance of seeing him. 
 We have heard men spoken of as excellent salesmen 
 in many branches of business, which often means 
 that they can take advantage of their neighbours' 
 weakness, or, it may be, shew their goods to the 
 best advantage. Auctioneers, for instance, are some- 
 times said to be able to wile a bird aff the bush, by 
 giving a character better than the goods they sell 
 deserve. 
 
 Who would for a moment think that a man selling 
 fresh herring would require to be a man of intellect 
 or a genius ? Would any ordinary man not be able 
 to count herring on a plate, and lift the money when 
 he made a sale ? In ordinary cases anybody might
 
 100 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 do for that, but a case might in the nature of things 
 turn up where genius to effect a sale would be needed. 
 Politeness is a first power in any calling. 
 
 English Jamie (more than half a century back) 
 lived in Ayr. From his peculiar manner of speaking 
 and acting he was a public favourite, particularly 
 among the lower classes. Jamie said that if an old 
 woman bought a halfpenny herring from him he 
 would say, " Thank you, ma'm." English Jamie was 
 said by some to be an Irishman. That matters not. 
 Come from where he pleased, Jamie was a genius. 
 Having asserted this much, I call on him to back me 
 out. On a Monday forenoon near to sixty years ago, 
 Jamie came to the village of Dundonald with an old 
 white pony and an old cart, in which were two 
 barrels containing a quantity of what Jamie called 
 fresh herrings. A small group of women with plates 
 in their hands gathered around him. " Let me see 
 what like your herring are this morning ?" is no 
 uncommon request. AVhen Jamie showed samples, 
 the heads were shaken. Some said emphatically, 
 " Thae's no this mornin's herrins ;" others said they 
 were Saturday's, and others doubted if even they 
 were caught last week. Jamie listened to the various 
 remarks without seeming to hear a word, when some 
 of the wives were beginning to move away with 
 empty plates. Jamie began a long dissertation about 
 the nature of fishermen's lives. " To think," said he,
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. . 101 
 
 "that you were all lying comfortably in your beds 
 last night, while the poor men were astir as soon 
 as the Lord's morning was past, and out at sea risking 
 their precious lives for your comfort; and to think 
 that I should get up early and be here by this time 
 of the morning, so as you may get the blessings of 
 the deep brought to your door at a moderate price, 
 is wonderful indeed," 
 
 Jamie retained the first group of doubters ; and, 
 the crowd increasing, he kept talking, so as the first- 
 comers never got informing the rest of the audience 
 of their suspicions anent the time the herrings had 
 left the sea. When Jamie thought his audience the 
 right size, he changed his tactics and delivered an 
 oration which chained every listener to the wheels of 
 his herring-cart. "Ladies," said he, "don't think 
 that I was made for the purpose of selling herring. 
 No, ladies, I have taken position before the world ere 
 now where it would have done your heart good to 
 have seen me act my part like a Christian. Ah, 
 ladies, I once had a house of my own, in which the 
 houseless and the wanderer oft had a home ; and 
 believe me, I had the will, and the knack, and the 
 power to do it. You mind the other day when they 
 hung old Watson, the tinker, at Ayr, for stealing a 
 horse. Och, it was a touching sight not so much 
 hanging up the man, as carrying him through the 
 streets afterwards. It was one of those dark, dirty-
 
 102 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 coloured, wet days, which rained as for a wager ; and 
 here were twenty-nine living tinkers, men and 
 women, carrying the hanged man in his coffin from 
 one lodging-house to another, wishing admittance. 
 Not a soul would admit them who had room in their 
 house, and those who had no room could not. 
 
 " Well, ladies, I moralised on the whole affair. To 
 think that a man was of less value than a horse, was 
 sad. That a proper Christian spirit was to be found 
 in tinkers, gladdened me. That they rallied round 
 the corpse of their unfortunate brother, gave a fine 
 air of humanity to the whole affair ; but the dirty day 
 and rain pouring on the homeless crowd of Christian 
 tinkers, put me to the blush for my own Christianity. 
 I felt ashamed of myself, and went forward to the 
 people who bore the coffin. I took off my hat and 
 addressed them thus : ' Gentlemen, I have a house, 
 and if it suit you it is at your service ; if you choose 
 to accept of it, follow me.' So I turned my back to 
 them and led the procession ; and do ye know that 
 for the first time I felt proud as a public man on the 
 streets of Ayr. I led the procession to the door of 
 my own house : I bade them in God's name enter. 
 I had on a good fire, and soon made it better. I had 
 no furniture in the house, but I asked them to make 
 themselves at home in it as I did. I asked them to 
 set the coffin in the midst of the floor it would do 
 for a table ; and if they desired anything to eat or
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 103 
 
 drink, by giving me money I would get what they 
 wished. Troth and they did hand out liberally. 
 They ordered plenty to eat, and did not forget the 
 drink ; and I soon had it set before them. We had 
 the coffin covered with good things from head to foot; 
 and, ladies, it would have done your hearts good to 
 have seen with what rapidity they put the whisky 
 out of sight. Well, it did disappear in quick time ; 
 but, och, the poor creatures had got such a steeping 
 of water before, they required something smart within 
 them. As there were no chairs, I tould them to take 
 the floor, as I had to do. 
 
 " The widow, poor creature, sat at the head, and 
 a sorrow-stricken creature she was. Well, she did 
 pour the tears out of her head, and sometimes she 
 would burst out in a howl of grief ; and there was a 
 clumsy lump of a tinker sat at the foot, who, after he 
 had taken the third glass, began to make love the 
 whole length of the coffin to the widow. Well, that 
 touched me ; I thought that they might have delayed 
 that part till he had been out of sight below the sod ; 
 and, to my astonishment, a fellow about midway of 
 the coffin began to intercept the love of him at the 
 foot, and by this time she was blubbering with one 
 eye and laughing with the other. There was some- 
 tiling so comic in the whole affair and it was to the 
 real life that I felt rather delighted than otherwise, 
 and so I resolved to continue to serve them and to
 
 104 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 allow them to make themselves happy in their own 
 way and, troth, they did ; and it was not long till 
 the two fellows who were making love to the widow 
 determined to fight for her. 
 
 "I here put my word in, and said: 'Gentlemen, 
 you can do as you please, but that's not the way I 
 would do. I would have you two stand out before 
 her, and say to the lady, "Which of us will you 
 take ?" By giving her the choice, you do her honour ; 
 but fighting has too much of the dog in it.' However, 
 I cleaned the top of the coffin, took it up in my arms 
 and set it up in the corner, and there it stood by all 
 the world like an eight-day clock. 'Now,' said I, 
 'Gentlemen, if you will fight, there's .a chance for 
 you.' 
 
 " Well, when they saw me so accommodating, not 
 a bit would they fight. No ; they said that I was a 
 sensible man and a peacemaker; and it was' nothing 
 but ' Give the Englishman a glass ;' ' Give the Eng- 
 lishman a glass.' Now I never have been glassed in 
 that manner since I came to Scotland ; and the truth 
 is, ladies, I sincerely wish that there was a tinker 
 hung every day, so-being that they only came to my 
 house with the dredgee." 
 
 Jamie's harangue lasted so long and took such an 
 effect on his audience that they forgot all about the 
 date of the herring leaving the sea. Then he com- 
 menced handing out the fish to his customers, who
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 105 
 
 ran home with them. It was not long till he had 
 the whole cargo disposed of, and left a few customers 
 unsupplied. 
 
 After the ladies had left, Jamie addressed a few 
 of us boys who had remained behind looking at 
 him as a truly great man. He treated us to a bit of 
 his philosophy: "Now, boys, observe the difference 
 between a good and bad salesman is this : had I 
 allowed the first of the ladies to go away, they would 
 have spoiled my sale by sowing an evil report against 
 my herrings ; and, you observe, I did not say a word 
 in their defence, for I am sure they will speak for 
 themselves. I began to tell a bit of history, and the 
 ladies gave their feelings to it, forgetting that they 
 had noses, eyes, or mouths. They were all ear ! 
 Now it's a hard thing to keep ladies from talking, and 
 nothing will do it so well as getting a man who can 
 talk to them about what they have no business with, 
 and they are sure to give him a listening. Let a lady 
 begin to talk, and no matter what good sense she 
 might speak, why, every other lady in the crowd will 
 begin to talk at the same time, till not a listener be 
 left ! Whatever sort of goods you wish to dispose 
 of, keep talking on something else till you effect a 
 sale; then allow the purchaser to make a study of
 
 106 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 his bargain at his leisure. You see, boys, not long 
 ago the herrings were a bad bargain in one hand; 
 and they are no great bargain yet, though in many 
 hands !" 
 Jamie achieved a victory of mind over matter.
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 EGBERT OWEN OF NEW LANARK, 
 
 " He praises every German man 
 
 Who speaks the wish he feels ; 
 And may he know the devil's ban 
 Who glosses or conceals." 
 
 AMONG the single-hearted, loveable, venerable, 
 peculiar great men I have been acquaint with, 
 Eobert Owen takes a high place. We adopt our 
 friends and acquaintances often in a way we could 
 give no reason for. I have never yet taken up with 
 a man because the outside world shouted his praise ; 
 and I have often found great worth in him who was 
 vilely spoken of by those who had an excellent 
 opinion of themselves, yet put on a putrid look of 
 filthy rags as a fitting raiment for their best en- 
 deavours to do good. The first time I heard the 
 name of Eobert Owen was at the time a discussion 
 was to come off between him and a man named 
 Campbell. The world was to be put right by them 
 both, but they held different notions as to how it was 
 to be done. This is near to fifty years back. They 
 are both dead, and the world is going on much about
 
 108 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTEK. 
 
 the auld way. I am now near to threescore and ten 
 years in the world, and have little faith in its 
 government being much affected by the peculiar 
 notions of men, however earnest ; yet there has 
 always been to me something more loveable in a 
 man who had a desire to do good his own way than 
 in him who continued to repeat rhymes entailed on 
 society by his granny or his grandfather, holding 
 them so sacred that the cat had to keep quiet while 
 he snored his way through a portion of them daily. 
 
 It was in Jamie Whitefield's nailer's shop, Brae- 
 side, Kilmarnock, that I heard of Eobert Owen and 
 Campbell coming to issue. Will Mushet, nailer, was 
 the orator and historian ; he knew the antecedents of 
 both men, and as a mental giant could have entered 
 the field of discussion with or against either. Owen 
 was the man with whom he took part as a true friend 
 to the world. Will entered upon a long dissertation 
 on the value of a farmer's stock of cattle, showing 
 that, in case of war, should the carcases of his cows 
 be needed to feed the army, the Government of the 
 time might take them, but they must compensate 
 the owner with money value. Then Will opened 
 out what seemed to me a rational review of the 
 difference between the poor labouring man and the 
 farmer. A man bringing up a large family was 
 producing national stock, and truly the power of the 
 nation lay in the people; yet the poor man who
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 109 
 
 produced the people got no thanks and no help, but 
 had his task to perform amid poverty and want of 
 every comfort, had often to send forth his family as 
 vermin uneducated and uncared for; and should 
 soldiers be wanted to protect the farmer's kye and 
 swine, the labouring man with his family was forced 
 from his home and compelled to resign his liberty 
 and every civil right so as cattle in which he had no 
 interest might be cared for, while landlords were kept 
 as lawgivers, reducing to serfs the great and only 
 power of the world we had to do with! "The 
 People," said Will, "the only true source of legitimate 
 power." Then he opened up the history and inten- 
 tions of Eobert Owen and his theories, which from 
 that moment left a charm not yet lessened by years. 
 Will was full of history and poetry, and could pour 
 forth the pictures of past times with rich colouring. 
 His heroes had an activity and worth which made 
 them loveable to look at. The heroes of Ossian, 
 while set to work by him to fight their battles o'er 
 again in the nailer's shop, were handed like game- 
 cocks. I have seen the sweat running down his face 
 in streams among the soot-stains while he poured forth 
 the bygone glory of individuals whose lives had been 
 in the right according to his notion of things. 
 
 I have always given a man credit for his good 
 intentions, so-being that his life squared with his 
 creed. I come from Ayrshire, a place where cattle
 
 110 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 are cared for and have a name over the world a 
 place where a poet sung up humanity as the gowd, 
 and the rank but the guinea stamp. The bard saw 
 no brand on honest poverty, yet beggarly spirits did. 
 I had begun to represent a family when I first heard 
 of Eobert Owen and his new moral world, where 
 every want was to be supplied by the power of honest 
 labour. Every man who desired to be happy was to 
 seek his share of it through endeavouring to make 
 his neighbour happy ; was to plunder no man of his 
 rights, but give to and get from the great whole ! I 
 had listened when a boy to a discussion between an 
 Englishman and a Scotchman anent independence. 
 The Scotchman asked if it was true that in England 
 a tradesman who had no more than twelve shillings 
 a week and more than two children had from the 
 public funds so much a head for every child beyond 
 the second till the elder was able to go to a trade or 
 service of some sort ? The Englishman said, " Yes, it 
 is true!" "And do you no think that a beggarly 
 affair ?" quo' the man of independence ; " a Scotchman 
 would starve first before he wad stoop to tak' aff the 
 Session." " Oh, I daresay that," said the Englishman; 
 " and in his pride would starve his family also ; but 
 an Englishman looks with pride on his country, and 
 feels that he is something in it, and so are his family 
 they are part of society. The nation is parent 
 over the parents, sees that they are unable to do
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTEK. Ill 
 
 their duty to their families, and helps them to do it." 
 That philosophy caught my ear as common sense, and 
 when I first read that sentence as uttered by Eobert 
 Owen, "That there should be no ill-fed, ill-clad, 
 uneducated children ; nor ill-fed, ill-clad, uncared-for 
 old age," my heart warmed to the man, and is not 
 yet cold to his memory. 
 
 When I heard of his coming to Kilmarnock, I re- 
 joiced in his coming. I had a stronger desire to look 
 on Mr Owen than ever I had to see a living man, 
 simply because he offered his life and means to make 
 all mankind comfortable. It might be a delusion, as 
 many said it was, but his heart was in his work ; he 
 stood for early education ; was the founder of infant 
 schools ; schooled and clad six thousand children in 
 New Lanark at his own expense; paid a man to 
 preach the gospel to greedy beggars ; and stood strong 
 for the new commandment which Christ gave his 
 disciples, " That ye love one another." Well, to Kil- 
 marnock he did come, and a meeting was held in the 
 large hall of the George Inn, or what was at that 
 time the stable loft ! The gas had not as yet 
 been introduced into it, and by the light of a few 
 candles the place was illuminated. Two candles stood 
 upon the front of the platform, and in the dense gloom 
 sat an expectant meeting of men, who might or might 
 not sympathise with the views of Eobert Owen ; but 
 at the time appointed he made his appearance in the
 
 112 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 wake of George Paxton, brewer ; Hugh Craig, cloth 
 merchant ; and Dr Hood three advanced and active 
 minds. I was all impatience to have a proper look 
 at Eobert Owen, and had wrought him up in my mind 
 as the beau ideal of a perfect man. My mind's figure 
 was soon upset. Here came a plain, humble, modest, 
 low-toned looking man. I thought it was old John 
 M'Queen, with whom I had been acquaint in other 
 days, a man from Ayr, who dealt in old clothes. 
 Yet here was the veritable Eobert Owen. In a 
 moment came into my mind a description of One 
 who had come before to correct a world "When 
 we shall see Him, there is no beauty that we should 
 desire Him." To put mental theory at a discount, 
 George Paxton stood up, and said that he was neither 
 capable of making a speech or naming Mr Owen's 
 mission ; but he looked on him as the greatest man 
 in the world, for he was pleased with nothing in our 
 world ; had made a world of his own, and named it 
 the new moral world, and wished them all to come 
 into it. There was to be neither sin nor sorrow in it, 
 but Mr Owen would be better able to tell them about 
 it himself, so he introduced him to the meeting. 
 
 Mr Owen was far from being fluent as an orator, 
 and at this time had something of a wandered look 
 about him. His schemes were not as yet completed. 
 The question of marriage seemed difficult to legislate 
 for. He wanted love marriages, and to do away with
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEK. 113 
 
 legal prostitution, that is, when people ceased to 
 love, their being compelled to remain together was 
 hurtful to society. This was a premature point to 
 speak on, as the new moral world would require to be 
 organised first. He said that he had prepared a world 
 for them, where, were they to enter, they would not 
 know themselves ; but they could not come in with 
 their old world notions; these must all be left outside. 
 Their feelings and their convictions were all that were 
 necessary to come with. He was going to create new 
 circumstances, as man's character was made for him, 
 not by him. Man, as he was, was the child of past 
 circumstances, and it was only necessary to create 
 new and better circumstances that we might be re- 
 generated, or, properly speaking, born again. 
 
 " It is your faiths you fight about which make you 
 disagreeable to each other. You agree while you 
 reason about or even talk about things you know, but 
 whenever you come to your faiths you fight. You 
 must get quit of your old faiths, and all superstitious 
 nonsense ! Some of you pretend to be strong in your 
 faiths, as if they were to produce facts ; and some of 
 you pretend that you can force yourselves to believe 
 anything. Now I wish to give you a chance. Some 
 of you who can believe that one is three, and three 
 one, pay attention. I wish to give you a chance." 
 So, lifting in each hand a candlestick, in which candles 
 were burning, the only lights on the platform before 
 I
 
 114 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 him, he held them up on a level with his earnest yet 
 playful-featured face, "Now you all see two lights 
 here, and can any of you who are rational force your- 
 selves to believe that there are three ? Try it." Nobody 
 spoke ; and Mr Owen set down the candles with great 
 composure, saying, " "Were you to use your senses in 
 every case in the same simple way as I wish you, there 
 would be less superstition ! I have thus tested you, 
 and find you all agreed that two lights were present." 
 I was sitting a few yards in front of him, and spoke 
 like a simpleton. " Mr Owen, I believe that there 
 were three lights present when you held up the 
 candles." A grand hiss came from the enlightened 
 audience, with cries of "Put him out." At this 
 moment the countenance of Mr Owen brightened up, 
 and he said reprovingly, " Didn't I tell you that your 
 faiths were your stumbling blocks ? What would you 
 put him out for ? What business have you with this 
 man's faith ? Stand up, sir, and give the unbelievers 
 an evidence of the faith that is in YOU." I stood 
 before him and them. He then lifted the two candles 
 and held them up. "Now, sir, you said that you 
 believed there were three lights present when I held 
 up the candles before." " J believe so still ; I have 
 ocular demonstration that light is coming from the 
 candles, and I believe that the third light is in you ; 
 and as your subject seems to me in darkness, I \\ ish 
 you would apply the third light to it."
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 115 
 
 This produced applause, and Mr Owen said, " Now 
 I hope you have got a lesson. You who so lately sat 
 in darkness, you see before you a man who knows 
 what faith is it being ' the evidence of things not 
 seen.' You would have put him out a few minutes 
 ago simply because he differed with you on a point 
 you all seemed ignorant of. Although the man had 
 believed that there" were thirty lights present, what 
 business had you to differ with him on that point ? 
 You seem not to know that faith is credit, and not 
 a cash transaction, and you have no right to sit in 
 judgment on any case you cannot or do not compre- 
 hend. I thank you, sir, for the demonstration you 
 have given of your faith, and will use the third light 
 as far as I at present can to illustrate some of the 
 dark points of the new moral world theory." This 
 he did ; and while showing many beauties in the new 
 world, he came down very heavily on some of the rusty 
 bits of the old world where we are yet jogging on in 
 the ugly ruts of selfishness ! 
 
 Robert's faith in Christianity was not in accordance 
 with the Confession of Faith. He had made several 
 statements to that effect, when a man came to the 
 front with great composure, but seemed to have shift- 
 ing ballast within him. He had some difficulty in 
 getting himself steadied, having evidently partaken 
 of a whisky supper previous to coming. He said that 
 he could not sit to hear the faith of his gallant fathers
 
 116 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 traduced, and rose to his feet to defend it against such 
 dangerous opinions as had been uttered by Robert 
 Owen, whom he to his face designated an utterer of 
 dangerous and damnable doctrines. Kobert listened 
 kindly to him, and then said: "You could not sit 
 to hear what you consider error spoken, and I admire 
 your character for rising to the rescue ; and you, sir, 
 seem there to have a new difficulty, as you cannot 
 stand steady on your feet to defend your views. Now, 
 sir, I hope that my notions will never be so hurtful to 
 society as the traffic in which you are engaged has 
 been ; and if I thought that they would be guilty of 
 the same cruelty to myself as an individual as yours 
 have been to you, I would endeavour to get under 
 the control of better circumstances, so that I might 
 be freed from such bondage, depravity, and entailed 
 belief; and seeing you have stood for the right, you 
 are entitled to the thanks of the meeting." Three 
 cheers for the Covenanter ! Eobert said that dying 
 a martyr for any dogma was no more an evidence of 
 its truth than swallowing whisky was a proof of a 
 man's sobriety. Having thus introduced my first 
 meeting with, and recorded my impressions of the 
 man, I may be allowed to say of Kilmarnock as 
 Robert Owen himself said of Turkey that the proper 
 stuff to start his new moral world with was not to be 
 found in it.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE WOUNDS OF A FRIEND. 
 
 IN 1839 Robert Owen came to Glasgow and founded 
 a Hall of Science. He had done so in various 
 other towns. Those halls were to be nurseries where 
 circumstances were to be formed so superior to those 
 of the old world that nursed plants could be got, by 
 regeneration and adoption, with which to start the new 
 moral world. A Paradise would be begun on higher 
 principles than selfishness, and the elect gathered 
 from such institutions. 
 
 Much discussion took place in those halls, and 
 many attempts were made to overthrow the genial 
 ideas of peace and goodwill aimed at by Robert 
 Owen and his apostles. Zeal more than good sense 
 seemed to inspire most of the combatants who entered 
 the lists against him. I heard him open his Hall of 
 Science in the Trongate of Glasgow. He read the 
 thirteenth chapter of first Corinthians, and re- 
 marked on several points noticed in it, and finished 
 with " Faith, hope, charity, these three ; but the 
 greatest of these is charity." "I quite agree there 
 with the writer, whoever he may have been ; and it
 
 118 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTER. 
 
 is plain to me he did not write another chapter in 
 the book. The clergy, who speculate so much on 
 faith, seem to overlook this fact. Charity is without 
 mystery, but faith is opener to imposition, and there- 
 fore fits their purpose better ;" so he said. During 
 the time of the hall's existence there were some fine 
 trials of mental skill both for and against the new 
 moral world. I never saw any of Eobert's apostles 
 lose temper ; they seemed to have full faith in the 
 doctrine that man's character was created for him 
 and not by him : therefore in him there was no praise, 
 no blame, and no responsibility. Man had just two 
 tests for his thinking his feelings and his convic- 
 tions ; and at that bar they used to bother their 
 antagonists with the testing pair of arbiters. 
 
 The only one I ever saw surround Mr Owen grace- 
 fully was a man I should like to have known. He was 
 a delicate-looking man of middle age, far from being 
 in a hurry to slay his adversary. Mr Owen had called 
 a meeting that night to discuss society and look out 
 the best way of doing the greatest amount of good for 
 the benefit of the greatest number of individuals; and 
 to let the meeting know what he meant by society, 
 he said it was a body of men and women who had 
 set themselves down and meant to live in a given 
 place. "Well, he would divide their requisites into 
 four heads : the first thing they would require was 
 production j the next thing, a proper distribution of
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 119 
 
 the things produced ; the third, the formation of 
 character; and the last, the best mode of governing 
 that character when formed the best way of going 
 about everything, viz., production, distribution, for- 
 mation of character, and governing it when formed. 
 
 Mr Owen had thus far laid his scheme for the 
 night's conversation or discussion before the meeting, 
 when this quiet-looking man slid his shoulder up the 
 side of a pillar, looked wistfully toward him, and 
 said : " Mr Owen, I wad like to speak to you a wee." 
 " Is it about society in relation to any of the heads 
 I have named ?" " Oh, no ; it's something that I am 
 won'erfu' concerned aboot." " Sit down, sir; we have 
 met for a purpose." "I canna sit doon, Mr Owen." 
 "Then I'll put you out." "Ye canna do that, Mr 
 Owen." " It's my meeting, sir." " Oh, no, Mr Owen; 
 ye ken that's the plague o' the auld warld ; but ye 
 ken that there's nae ' me,' mine' in the new world." 
 "How long would you speak, sir, were I to allow 
 you ?" " I dinna ken, Mr Owen ; you ken that my 
 character is formed for me, not by me ; and the cir- 
 cumstances under which I rise to talk are such as I 
 have no control over. If the spirit were to stand by 
 me that I feel prompting me just noo, I might talk 
 four-and-twenty hours to come ; but you see, Mr 
 Owen, as well as me, that I canna help mysel'." 
 " I'll put you out, sir." " Oh ! Mr Owen, and me on 
 your side ; I'm quoting your ain doctrines ; but, Mr
 
 120 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 Owen, to be plain wi' you, I'm in bet water as to hoo 
 we are to get a fair start wi' the new moral world ; 
 and I want you to ken that I'm as anxious to get 
 intil't as ye are, but to get the stuff to start wi' 
 puzzles me ; and there's nae use in us wasting our 
 time about society that we ha'e nae business wi'. 
 Then, Mr Owen, just listen a minute. You stated at 
 ae time that the character of man was made for him 
 and not by him : I believe that too. And to illus- 
 trate it, you said that a child at birth was like a 
 sheet of white paper that you could write what sort 
 o' character you lik'd on't. Now you see that I 
 believe that also, so I want you to observe my great 
 anxiety is to get the stuff to start the new moral 
 world wi'. Were we to take a child at birth and 
 carry it into the new moral world and lay it down, it 
 wad dee for want o' nourishment ; and if ye let it 
 draw that from its mither, then it is poisoned; 
 and were ye to tak' in the white sheet o' paper, then 
 there's naebody to write on't ; and if ye let the wean 
 gang to the schule wi' the paper, it will mak' ugly 
 bill-strokes, and cleeks, and blots, and dirty the paper 
 atween the lines wi' the pictures o' cats and hoolets, 
 and every sort o' abortion that had nae business 
 there. So ye see, Mr Owen, unless we can some- 
 where get the right stuff to start the new wi', we may 
 just as weel work awa' in the auld ane ! " 
 It turned the laugh sair against Mr Owen to
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEE. 121 
 
 man on his side ill-off for material to begin a new 
 and better state of things for man's good. This was 
 the mildest combatant I ever saw enter the arena 
 against Eobert Owen or rather, he stepped on to 
 Mr Owen's side, and was a dangerous acquaintance. 
 Many of the clergymen who opposed him gave 
 evidence that they had little faith in what they 
 preached, when they were afraid that a system said 
 to be so pure was to be upset by an honest, yet it 
 might be mistaken old man, and a few followers. 
 They were somewhat like a Tory candidate who had 
 at one time sought the suffrages of Ayrshire as a 
 Member of Parliament. He had heard that a man 
 named Gilmour, a blind fiddler in Stevenston, was in 
 the habit of making Eadical speeches ; and the said 
 Gilmour had been much respected by the old Earl 
 of Eglinton. This Tory candidate said one day to 
 Eglinton: "My lord, that old man Gilmour is a 
 dangerous politician, and should not be encouraged." 
 " Well, Blair, you must have a pitiful opinion of the 
 British Constitution when you think that it can be 
 upset by the opinions of a blind fiddler." 
 
 Eobert Owen had a single heart : a God-like pur- 
 pose filled it. He had a higher opinion of man than 
 was borne out in action. He believed in the educa- 
 tion of the better feelings, and discovered that pigs 
 were of the same opinion as the filthy man who 
 said that " dirt wasna sair." He was in all points a
 
 122 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 Reformer. I heard him once in Glasgow delivering 
 a lecture on "Use and Wont." He stated that in 
 New Lanark at one time the wives of the workers 
 had a pride in keeping their dungheap before their 
 doors on the street. He objected to such conduct, 
 and warned them to remove the abominations, set- 
 ting convenient places apart as substitutes. None 
 listened to his orders. He sent men to remove them. 
 The wives defended their position and abused the 
 scavengers. He went in person along with the 
 scavengers and removed the women's gods. He said 
 that their dirt and religious opinions seemed dear to 
 them. He made a law that cleanliness was to be 
 observed, and saw it carried into effect.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE PORTRAIT AND THE DISCIPLE. 
 
 IN the spring of 1839 I came into close conversation 
 with Eobert Owen. A few of his friends wishing 
 a portrait to keep in remembrance of him employed 
 me to paint one. John Mossman took a bust of him 
 at the same time. I had only two hours allotted 
 me for my task an hour to-day and another to- 
 morrow. He sat to me in the house of Mr John 
 Wright, St. Vincent Street, Glasgow. During the 
 sittings we talked rapidly and on many subjects. 
 We took looks in perspective at the new moral world, 
 and back-glances at the old. I asked him if he 
 remembered his first appearance in Kilmarnock; he 
 said that he had a vivid recollection of it. I asked 
 if he .knew the individual whose faith was beyond 
 the rest of the audience ? He said " No," but he 
 should like to know him. I let him know that I 
 was the individual. " Oh, then," said he, " we are 
 more in the light with each other." He said that I 
 was of great service to him that night in Kilmarnock, 
 as a living text was always a great power before an 
 ignorant or promiscuous audience. To break down
 
 124 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 
 
 barricades where ignorance and superstition were 
 encamped required nerve and kindliness at the same 
 time. 
 
 Robert held it as a truth that every man was 
 insane on his own religious notions or nonsense, 
 that a man would reason quite freely on any point of 
 his neighbour's form of worship, and laugh freely at 
 the things held most sacred ; but touch his own, 
 you would bring up the whites of his eyes: "Oh, 
 there, take care, you are on dangerous ground." I 
 said that my experience was the same; so here we 
 were both agreed on one great truth. I said that in 
 most rules I had found exceptions, but in this never ; 
 therefore every man's religion was an unreasonable 
 something. "Then," said I, "Mr Owen, we are at 
 one ; and may it not be that you are insane on your 
 own notions ?" He made a rapid look and said, 
 "Well, it may be." "Nay, it must," said I. He 
 smiled and said, " Well, I may ; but I don't think it." 
 "Then," said I, "you are on a par with the rest." 
 He tried several times to get away from the decision, 
 by the power of the feelings and the convictions, 
 that all men are insane on their own hobbies. " So 
 are we!" He said he thought that I would make 
 a fine Socialist. I said " No ; I could willingly say, 
 'Thy kingdom come,' but when thy will is to be 
 done, the old devil would get up and claim his right, 
 and harmony would be at an end." Robert had a
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTER. 125 
 
 higher opinion of me than I had of myself. He was 
 single-hearted in the cause for which he gave his life 
 and fortune. 
 
 The last ten minutes I had with him, the carriage 
 was at the door to take him away. When I gave the 
 last touch to the picture, he came forward, took a firm 
 look at it, and said, " I consider that, sir, a great work 
 of art, considering the circumstances under which it 
 was taken. Your tongue and hand have gone rapidly 
 during the process. It is the eleventh time I have 
 sat for my portrait, and every one named a difficulty 
 in taking my features but yourself." " Did they talk 
 to you, Mr Owen?" I inquired. "Well," he said, 
 " to put them all together, they did not talk as much 
 as you have done in the two hours." On the last 
 morning of our sitting Mr Wright entered the room, 
 walked up to Mr Owen, laid his right hand on Mr 
 Owen's left shoulder, and whispered in a soft and 
 kindly tone of voice " Do you require anything ?" 
 " Oh, no, thank you, sir ; my friends have been more 
 thoughtful about that than I have been myself." 
 Then Mr Wright added, looking seriously and kindly, 
 " Good old man, I pity you." " I know you do ; so 
 do I you ; that lets us go quits." Mr Wright took 
 an affectionate farewell of him and retired. 
 
 When he was gone, Mr Owen asked if I observed 
 Mr Wright pity him ? I said, " Yes." "And do you 
 know," he further inquired, " what he pitied me for ?"
 
 126 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 "Well," said I, "I suppose it is because you are 
 religious your own way." He gave a hearty laugh 
 and said, " Quite so." I took home the original 
 portrait and copied another one from it, bestowing 
 far more pains ; but there was a spirit in the first 
 sketch that I could not overcome. The copy was 
 hung in the Hall of Science, and is yet among his 
 friends. The fate of the original was to me vexatious. 
 I had presented a friend with his portrait, and he 
 was proud of it. He fell into difficulties, and his 
 effects were sequestrated: among other things, his 
 portrait. He came to me one day and said that he 
 was sorry to lose his portrait; and the idea of it 
 being set up at a public sale annoyed him. He had 
 put a fine frame round it, and had it covered with 
 yellow gauze. His portrait was sent away. An old 
 frame, which was doomed for firewood, was got in a 
 gilder's shop in Stockwell, and in this frame went the 
 portrait of Eobert Owen ; on went the yellow gauze, 
 and up he went where the doctor had lately hung. 
 I had an acquaintance at the roup to secure the 
 portrait, but when the portrait of the doctor in a fine 
 gilt frame was named, the gauze taken off, and the 
 father of the faithful looked down on the members of 
 the old world and their ways, such roars of laughter 
 and humorous remarks took possession of some who 
 knew what was coming that the individual who 
 should have attended to buy back my old friend lost
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 127 
 
 sight of it, and in an unlucky moment it was knocked 
 down for a trifle. The party who got it would not 
 part with it, so I lost the father of the new moral 
 world at a time when his appearance was not ex- 
 pected to represent Doctor M'Gibbon. 
 
 Thirty years afterwards I painted the portrait of 
 an old and faithful friend of Mr Owen, in the person 
 of Alexander Campbell, of the Sentinel newspaper. 
 It was intended to have been hung beside Mr Owen's 
 portrait, but he died before it was presented to him. 
 The feelings and wrath of the ignorant and pretended 
 godly are yet as fresh as ever. On the last week of 
 1868 Mr Campbell and a few friends were coming 
 out of a public-house which another core were about 
 to enter. The latter had evidently been partaking 
 freely of stimulating stuff, and w y ere certainly opposed 
 to the social system. One of them recognised old 
 Sandy, and with all the gestures of a lunatic held 
 out the finger of scorij, and, drawing the attention of 
 his muddled brethren " Look," said he, " at that old 
 
 red-hot who does not believe on the Lord Jesus 
 
 Christ ! Let me at him, and I'll soon do for him." 
 At this moment a figure like the phantom of auld 
 Hawkie brandished a stilt in front of the defenders 
 of the faith, and in a loud and defiant voice ex- 
 claimed, " The first individual who lays a foul finger 
 on the carcase of this patriarchal old man, I'll batter 
 the brains out of his head with one blow of my stilt."
 
 128 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTER. 
 
 Such heroism brought the cowardly Christian advo- 
 cate and persecutor to a stachering stand-still; and 
 at the appearance of a big policeman, the wrath of 
 the Covenanter cooled to ordinary animal heat. The 
 brute vanished into a close, dirty and dark as his 
 heaven-deserted intellect. Sandy Campbell is now 
 dead, and was laid in his grave according to his own 
 desire ! J. D. Bell, an old acquaintance, spoke a 
 funeral oration over him after he was deposited in 
 the earth.
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 SOME FEATURES OF HAWKIE. 
 
 TTTILLIAM CAMEEON was a mixture of mind 
 V V not seen all at once. He gave himself out 
 in small portions as it might suit his convenience. 
 Every person in Glasgow at one time might he said 
 to know something of him, either at first or second- 
 hand. He was better known by the name of Hawkie 
 than by his own name. Near to fifty years back I 
 have listened to him as a street orator describing the 
 wisdom and worth of a cow, whose owner (an auld 
 wife) had given her the name of "Hawkie," which 
 name the public transferred to William Cameron. 
 He was a queer compound, both in body and mind. 
 His body seemed shrivelled and twisted: he hung 
 upon a stilt and staff, wore his hat well down on his 
 nose, was always dirty and patched-like, as if his 
 home had been in a tailor's dust-heap. He looked 
 like one whose clothes had sworn allegiance to his 
 carcase, and had never been changed. He was the 
 representative of a strong thirst, and honestly de- 
 clared the same. He had passed through a long 
 life without envying or grieving at the good of his 
 K
 
 130 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 neighbour. His moral philosophy was his stock-in- 
 trade ; he had faith in his powers, and could easily 
 open a market for an exchange of his mental com- 
 modities, which were ever new and always acceptable. 
 The first time I had the pleasure of looking on him 
 or listening to him was in Kilmarnock on a Saturday 
 afternoon. I was on my way to a particular acquain- 
 tance, Mr John Eodie Dalrymple, house-painter, who 
 many times had offered me the loan of money were I 
 in need of it. For the first time I was on the road 
 to his place in Fore Street, to request the loan of 
 half-a-crown or three shillings till Monday. Such 
 was the delicacy of my nervous system when really 
 requiring help, and although many a time offered it, 
 that my heart failed me and beat as if I had been 
 going to commit a theft. I turned on the way and 
 saw a crowd in Portland Street. To ease my breath- 
 ing, I went forward to see what it was. In the 
 centre stood Hawkie. He was declaring his mission 
 to the place with an earnestness altogether his own. 
 He was liker a scarecrow than a man, yet the way he 
 told his story chained you to him. He had some- 
 thing to say, and you were bound to hear it. Any 
 clergyman who possessed the same gift would have 
 had little seed lost by the wayside. Hawkie had 
 been on the road to Paisley from Glasgow, when he 
 met with a Kilmarnock man who seemed to know 
 him ; and on learning that he was going to Paisley
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 131 
 
 with a cure for ill wives, begged and beseeched him 
 to leave Paisley to its fate and come out to Kilmar- 
 nock: there was a field to act on, and he was sure 
 of a reward. Hawkie had asked the man what part 
 o' the town was warst, as that was the spot whaur he 
 would open his battery. 
 
 The man had said that he thought the Netherton 
 Holm was in the greatest need of an early visitation. 
 His ain name was there. "But," added he, "ye 
 canna gang wrang when ye reach the town ye can 
 begin ony place." " So," quo' Hawkie, " without the 
 least respect o' persons, I'm here wi' the cure, and 
 it only costs a bawbee ! and I needna waste my time 
 describing an ill wife to you farther than to state my 
 simple opinion on the fact that an ill wife is the 
 greatest evil that ony puir man can be cursed wi'. 
 So I wad advise ony o' you wha are under the curse to 
 come to me for the cure ; and ony o' you wha ha'e the 
 curse o' an ill wife and are in want o' the bawbee to 
 the bargain, step forrit and state your cases : I'll gi'e 
 ye credit rather than ye shall endure a night langer. 
 Step forrit like men; state your cases. Never let 
 your modesty hurt your interest. Lay fause delicacy 
 aside; be honest to yourselves and get the curse 
 removed !" At this time a shoemaker, who had a 
 smell o' peat-reek and had imbibed strongly of peat- 
 reek whisky, came stachering in front of Hawkie, 
 and, looking at him in great derision, said, " Sir, you
 
 132 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 are an immoral character, and ought to be put off the 
 street ; you are a bad example, sir, to youth curse, 
 cursing about wives the way you are doing." Hawkie 
 took stock of the man. The crowd seemed to enjoy 
 the look of the moralist and the moral mender. Then 
 Hawkie said, with becoming civility, " Frien', was ye 
 wanting the cure ? I see the mark o' the beast on 
 your forehead ; but a gude wife wad be lost on the 
 like o' you. Awa' hame an' tak' a sleep before ye 
 gang to the kirk the morn." The crowd hurrahed. 
 
 That one sentence, "State your cases; never let 
 your modesty hurt your interest," went right into 
 me. Was it modesty or weakness made me turn from 
 my own errand to my friend ? I was deceitful to 
 myself. I turned from Hawkie ; went to Dalrymple, 
 and stated my case. He put his hand into his pocket, 
 brought forth a mass of silver, threw it on the coun- 
 ter, and said so joyously, " Take what you want, and 
 never want if I have it." Hawkie's sentence has 
 served me ever since. He had the power of saying 
 the proper thing at the proper time. That little 
 incident I mention as the foundation of my friend- 
 ship with Hawkie, which lasted for more than twenty 
 years after. The closer you came to him, his mind 
 became more delicate. He seemed to have few 
 sympathisers, most people coming to him to have a 
 flavour of his humour, which was always ready. I 
 met with him one day in Irvine, shortly after our
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 133 
 
 first meeting. Another gentleman and I gave him a 
 penny each ; he held the coppers in his loof, looked 
 at them, then looked in our faces, and said : " Lads, 
 gin I had that tippence melted into whisky and 
 toom'd o'er my hause, tak' my word for't, they'll ha'e 
 mair than tippenceworth o' philosophy in them wha'll 
 send me awa' frae their door without gi'ein me some- 
 thing." He had faith in himself and faith in society. 
 I had some of his early history in Glasgow from one 
 who knew him on his first arrival in that city. It 
 will give a clue to his after-life, so far as I personally 
 have listened to it. 
 
 It's gettin' an auld story now since Mr Thomson, 
 tailor, at the corner of King Street and Dale Street, 
 Tradeston, set up his sign. Hawkie applied to him 
 for work and got it. Mr Thomson was a very 
 earnest, unassuming man, and a Cameronian elder 
 one who waited on his customers and tried to the 
 utmost in his power to please them. Hawkie had 
 come off a long and dangerous tour, according to his 
 giving out. He had, with other ten missionaries, 
 been at Otaheita, sowing the Word among the 
 heathen, in great expectations of seeing the fruit 
 of their labours some future day. A raid was made 
 on them one morning at screich o' day. The rest 
 were killed or eaten alive. " I alone," said Hawkie, 
 " have escaped to tell thee." It was there he got his 
 leg hurt while running for his life. To such-like
 
 134 LITE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 
 
 stories did he treat his shopmates, who were bound to 
 look on him as more than an ordinary tailor. He 
 could speak eleven different languages fluently, 
 besides gibber as many more. He had advanced views 
 of the clothier'business at that time. He made great 
 speeches to his employer as to the propriety of open- 
 ing a cloth establishment on the premises and doing 
 a business worthy of the names to be put on the sign. 
 He had 500 at command, and would put it into the 
 firm of Thomson and Cameron, the cash to be forth- 
 coming on Monday. Like the Otaheitian speculation, 
 it looked fine in the distance. Mr Thomson had a 
 son at the college who was reading a Greek Testa- 
 ment, which Hawkie unfortunately lifted on this 
 same Thursday, and declared it to be Hebrew. The 
 callant began upon him without ceremony, having 
 been suspicious about his powers as a scholar, and so 
 exposed Hawkie before the men that the shop grew 
 too hot for him. During the afternoon he left the 
 shop, and has not yet come back with the promised 
 money, so the firm of Thomson and Cameron died in 
 ideality. 
 
 Four weeks after his exit the apprentice laddie was 
 taking home a suit of clothes to a customer ; his way 
 lay through Glasgow Green. He saw a crowd, and, 
 like other boys, wondered what the centre of attrac- 
 tion could be ; and on making a survey through 
 among some legs of the outer circle, saw, to his
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 135 
 
 astonishment, Hawkie, the Otaheitian missionary, 
 preaching the Gospel to the less dangerous heathen 
 of Glasgow. He had a chair beside him, on which 
 his hat was sensibly seated, mouth up, doing the 
 duty of a plate, and in which was a handsome collec- 
 tion. The laddie waited till the close, and, making 
 his way into where Hawkie stood, touched him, when 
 he looked down, laid his loof on the laddie's head, 
 and said, "Is that thee, Tarn; hoo are ye a' gettin' 
 on at hame ? Is the shop opened yet ? Thoo sees 
 I am preachin' awa' here like stoor. There's no sae 
 mony steeks in a sermon as there is in a coat and 
 it pays better, Gi'e your fo'k my compliments ; tell 
 them I was speerin' for them." 
 
 This was the first notice I had of Hawkie's preach- 
 ing, and I had it frae Tarn himsel'. Many were the 
 histories of Hawkie's college education I have listened 
 to ; but meeting with him one summer evening on 
 Glasgow Green before he had began to levy " black 
 mail," as he named it, I hansel'd him with a 
 penny, which was a distinct mark of friendship. 
 After that, any civil question was openly answered ; 
 and, trying not to look over inquisitive, I asked if it 
 was correct that he had got a college education. He 
 laughed and said that sometimes when silly fo'k wad 
 be wonnerin' whaur he got a' his knowledge, he wad 
 say that he got it at the college. " But to tell you 
 the truth, it was the same kind o' a college as whaur
 
 136 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 ye were schooled, only the material we wrought wi' 
 was different : mine was a tailor's garret and yours a 
 shoemaker's ; and I can tell you, lad, that in either 
 place they come nearer the mark than whaur they 
 swallow the insides o' auld books and gar the creatures 
 believe that they are cramm'd wi' knowledge frae the 
 first han'. It's an unco waste o' time learnin' them 
 the name o' the poker and tangs in seeven different 
 languages. They may weel name them the dead 
 languages j but were it no for the lang harangue the 
 juggler maks before he performs his slight-o'-han' 
 capers, the thing wadna ha'e the same effect. They 
 ha'e a strong society, the clergy, and hate nobs such 
 as me. I intend to haud forth in a wee." I inquired 
 if he had been examining Robert Owen's system yet. 
 He said that he hadna as yet had leisure he had 
 been so thrang wi' the Revivals. "But," quo he, 
 " Robert Owen canna expect to be successfu', for he's 
 no honest." I doubted his assertion, and wished to 
 know on what point he was dishonest. " Man," quo' 
 he, " he has an ill will at the Bible he fin's it in his 
 road, an' hasna the honesty or hardihood to kick it 
 to pieces. My plan is to mak' a clear floor before 
 beginnin' to dance; there's nae use in trippin' o'er 
 chairs an' stools after the music has begun." I in- 
 quired where the Tailors' College was situated where 
 he had graduated. He said, "Edinburgh." In the 
 garret where he served his time there were about
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 137 
 
 thirty individuals, and among them they had as 
 many crutches and wooden legs as would have built 
 a swinehouse. They had among them a' sorts o' 
 cripples ; and as for being up in the world, they were 
 full in feather as aspirants : every one was gaun to 
 be something else than what he at present was. " I, 
 of course/' said he, " was gaun to be a minister o' the 
 Gospel. 'And what denomination will ye come out 
 in, or connect yoursel' wi' ?' was asked at me ae day. 
 ' I'll never flinch frae my colours,' I answered ; ' I'll 
 come out a real Cameronian.' Ye ken that my name 
 being Cameron, it was simply keepin' possession o' my 
 ain ground, sae as a Cameronian I keep workin' awa." 
 "And what about the Eevivals ?" quo' I. Here 
 Hawkie set himself tight up on his stilt, and took a 
 side glint at the sky. " Weel, man," said he, " we 
 may say as the fo'k said langsyne when they heard 
 that Jesus Christ was comin' amang them : ' Whaur 
 comes he frae ?' quo' some o' the inquisitive anes. 
 'Frae Nazareth.' Some o' them shook their heads 
 and expressed themselves a thocht doubtfu'. ' What 
 good cometh out o' Nazareth ?' quo' the discontented. 
 Oh, man, we may weel say the same o' Kilsyth an' 
 the present inspired vicinity. What gude can come 
 oot o' a wheen dru'ken colliers an' their wives ; but 
 it will turn oot like Cambuslang langsyne. A revival 
 was got up arnaug the nervous and hysterical part o' 
 the population an' that sort o' nonsense is infectious.
 
 138 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 Some o' them fell into fits : they saw baith heaven 
 an' hell in their visions, but when they cam' oot o' 
 them they wadna ha'e ken'd common sense although 
 they had seen't on the end o' a stick. Thae mental 
 spasms gang for naething; but, oh, man, they were 
 led on by a wheen corky-headed gomerals o' clergy- 
 men. Common sense has a pith in't that neither 
 them nor their teachers seem to un'erstan'."
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 HAWKIE AS A LECTURER. 
 
 HRHE head of Stockwell Street in Glasgow was one 
 JL of Hawkie's preaching stations. He treated 
 every subject he entered upon with a seriousness 
 which commanded respect and ensured a quiet 
 listening. One night I was one of his hearers. He 
 was shaping his text to prove that it was the drunken 
 wives who were the patrons of the police. There 
 were a few of those youthful females present whose 
 impudence was in front of their worth. One of them 
 asked him with a sort of self-defensive air : " What 
 way ha'e ye sic an ill will at the wives, Hawkie?" 
 " I ha'e nae ill will at the creatures," quo' he ; " I'm 
 their frien', and wad like to ha'e a reformation amang 
 them. In the first place, it's nae wonner that they 
 are frail, considerin' what they are made o'." " And 
 what do ye say they are made o', Hawkie ?" " After 
 I tell you, keep yoursel' quiet till I get my discourse 
 finished; then ye can go on wi' yours." Hawkie 
 here took a survey of his questioner. " They are in 
 ordinary cases made out o' bubbly lassocks wha like 
 to ha'e mutches on their heads.
 
 140 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEK. 
 
 " I ha'e stated often, and I am ready to prove, that 
 the dru'ken wives are the patrons o' the police. Were 
 I to select a proper emblem for a policeman's coat- 
 o'-arms, I wad ha'e on the buttons o' his coat the 
 figure o' a woman spewin'. Dru'ken mithers are the 
 curse o' society. "VVeel, suppose a dru'ken woman to 
 be the mither o' a callant o' the name o' Tammy, wha 
 has come to ken the pith o' him in removin' odd 
 things which belang to the neebors; and suppose 
 that he should bring them to his mither as a peace- 
 offerin'. Aweel, ae day he comes in wi' something 
 which the mither sees that her uncle might advance 
 threebawbees or tippence on. Her drouth pled for her 
 to act, and she, takin' the article aneath her apron, 
 steppit into uncle's. She hadna far to gang. She 
 got threebawbees on the last offerin' o' Tammy's 
 genius. Aff to the whisky-shop wi't, got a wee glass, 
 and comes into her ain house dichtin' her mooth wi' 
 her apron-taiL Tammy was sittin' at the fireside, 
 when she says to him, ' Tammy, my man, I wonner 
 what we'll get for your feyther's dinner? The 
 policeman was at her heels, and on entering the 
 house inquired if that a bqy o' the name o' Tammy 
 lived here ? ' No, no/ quo' she, ' there's naebody o' 
 that name lives here.' 'Oh,' said the policeman, 
 ' there he is in the corner !' ' Oh,' quo' she, ' that's 
 my Tammy.' ' He's mine too,' said the policeman ; 
 and amid kickin' and screamin' Tammy was removed
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 141 
 
 to the office, brocht before a magistrate, and got 
 twenty-four hours of durance vile. 
 
 " Now," said Hawkie, " observe this : that is what 
 I would name the first step o' case-hardenin'. 
 Tammy meets wi' kindred souls there, and confinement 
 is stripped o' its terrors. He comes out bolder and 
 braver ; is on his arrival hame caress'd by his mither; 
 for, believe me, there's no a mither in the toun wha 
 has a wean that they ca' Tammy, altho' he may be the 
 bubbliest brat that crawls, but he's her wee dear 
 Tammy for a' that. Aweel, Tammy grows in every- 
 thing but grace, and as his pith increases it's merely 
 employed to remove moveable property, and ere lang 
 he spends the proceeds on his ain appetites for 
 sweetmeats and a turn in the Waterloo fly. Tammy 
 has been sae aften afore the magistrates that ' habit 
 and repute' is attached to his name instead o' esquire. 
 He is gettin' bigger, and a higher court is recom- 
 mended to inquire into his misdemeanours. He is to 
 come before the Lords the Lord help him noo ! 
 Whaever was acquaint wi' a Lord could boast o' high 
 acquaintance. He must have been a lawyer first; 
 and wha could boast the acquaintance o' a lawyer 
 but could also boast the acquaintance o' a thief ? 
 
 " But for a sicht o' the Lords. They ha'e arrived 
 in the toun: great is the pomp and mockery. 
 Guarded wi' sojers an' policemen, the same as if they 
 were vagabonds ; wi' a band o' music playin' the
 
 142 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 ' Kogue's March,' and a creature in the front wi' a 
 trumpet, toot, tootin awa', to represent the Day o' 
 Judgment, to fricht Tammy and the rest o' the puir 
 deevils wha are supposed to be lyin' tremblin' in the 
 jail; and then the Judge himsel', as if he werna 
 ridiculous enough already, is busket up like a scare- 
 craw, wi' a wheen dyed clouts rowed about him, and 
 a pickle sheep's-woo' on the head o' 'im; and the 
 Advocates rowed up in black clouts, as stiff-like as 
 mummies, and a pickle woo' on their heads, tae, 
 makin' them look like snawba's on the top o' soot- 
 bags. It's a startlin' sort o' mental depravity in high 
 places tryin' to scaur actual depravity in the lower 
 stratum o' life. 
 
 "I made a declaration that dra'ken wives were 
 the policemen's patrons, and ha'e shown in the case 
 o' puir Tammy that his dru'ken mither brocht liim 
 before the Lords ; and for the peculiar habits that he 
 contracted under her drouth -created carelessness 
 Tammy was sent to the hulks for seven years. In 
 the next place, we'll see hoo it comes that dru'ken 
 wives are manufactured. It's of special interest to 
 society that evils be stopped rather than cured. 
 Wives are sensitive, and if once neglected they 
 become like cats : they'll use their claws in self- 
 defence, and wha can blame them ? Men are fond 
 o' great bargains, and talk amang themselves as to 
 wha has the maist thrifty wives. 'My wife,' says
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 143 
 
 ane, 'gangs to the Bazaar for everything we need.' 
 Anither ane may let him ken that ' gin she had as 
 mony weans as his ane, she'll buy things nearer han' 
 hame.' 
 
 "However, the men talk amang themselves, and 
 some o' them ha'e cracks wi' their wives at hame. 
 Peggy Bletherbag and Kirsty Langtongue had made 
 it up wi' their men that they wad ha'e the weans a' 
 cleaned up on Saturday afternoon, and that they wad 
 gi'e them a' a jaunt as far as Candleriggs, and see what 
 was to he had in the Bazaar. They were a thocht 
 tired before reachin' the place, and Kirsty said that a 
 rest for twa-three minutes and a bucket the piece 
 wad be acceptable, she hoped, to the rest as weel as 
 to her; and it wad sharpen their een to see the 
 various commodities they were in quest o' such as 
 butter in lump, broken cheese, ham ends, and pig 
 shanks. Primed wi' the dram, it was clearly visible 
 that this was far better as a pleasure trip than gaun 
 doun the water. 'Here,' said Kirsty Langtongue, 
 'you can select your company, and no be squeezed 
 and get your taes tramp'd by a wheen thochtless 
 young gomerals in steamboats, whaur you ha'e to 
 pay for gettin' your sail Here we are really savin' 
 as muckle as gi'e us a refreshment on the road 
 gaun, and maybe a taste on the road hame. In sic 
 a thrang place, even wi' the ready bawbees, it taks a 
 time to get a' the wee odds-and-ends that are needed
 
 144 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 
 
 in a house; an' I'm sure nae man wad believe it 
 unless he were to see the stuff a' at a glance.' ' But I 
 am satisfied that we ha'e saved at least auchteenpence- 
 ha'penny a piece,' quo' Peggy Bletherbag ; ' and my 
 legs are liken to gi'e way below me.' ' I could tak' 
 anither taste, and even then we wad be profiters,' 
 quo' Peggy's man. (Jamie Trough was his name.) 
 ' I ken a place on the road hame whaur some o' our 
 chaps meet whiles on Saturday nicht; we'll gang 
 there an' ha'e anither bucket a piece, and then we'll 
 gang hame as licht as lambs.' Aff they set, and, just 
 as he had predicted, there they were (the ither 
 chaps) ; and, what was odd, they also had their wives 
 wi' them. They had been at Paddy's Market, and 
 had got wonnerfu' bargains. Johnny Skinflint had 
 bocht a coat, an' a new gown for his wife, just at a 
 wanworth ; and had them secreted in a bundle below 
 the table. What a rejoicin' took place ! Sae mony 
 chaps frae the same shop, it had the appearance o' a 
 New-Year's day. The wives, puir creatures, were for 
 ance fairly out-talked. Their men were discussin' 
 the best modes o' keepin up the wages, and strongly 
 condemned that class o' fo'k wha broke them or, 
 in fact, wha lower'd the price o' ony sort o' labour 
 that they were connected wi'. ' Gi'e us cheap bread 
 an' low rents/ said Skinflint, ' and then we'll show 
 the world what we are.' The weans turned sleepy ; 
 the wives had to whisper to each other, 'Here's to
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 145 
 
 our better acquaintance.' It was a sair fecht on the 
 road hame, and when they cam' hame to an out fire 
 and they began to count how mony buckets they had 
 swallowed, they seem'd to ha'e lost the count, and ae 
 dispute after anither destroyed the peace o' the house 
 till bedtime. A heavy loss had been sustained. 
 When the ham end cam' to be boiled there were 
 junipers in't ; and, in fact, the house had an ill smell 
 for a week after. 
 
 "Mrs Skinflint had forgot to tak' hame matches, 
 and she had been borrowin' frae Mrs Gatheraway for 
 the last twa days. Between darkness and disappoint- 
 ment, the pleasure trip had a black lookout. They 
 hadna a comfortable thocht durin' the whole o' 
 Sabbath. The grocer at the corner miss'd the turn 
 o' his cash on Saturday nicht, and sent in on Monday 
 mornin' for a settlement o' his account ; and after 
 breakfast was o'er on Monday, Peggy Bletherbag 
 cam' to see Mrs Skinflint. She had brocht a four- 
 penny in her hand. She hinted to Skinflint to put 
 tippence tilt, and they wad ha'e a preein' in comfort 
 and quietness. Ane after anither o' the party cam', 
 till they had a general meetin', and every ane related 
 the disasters which had befallen them on the road to 
 riches by the aid of gude bargains, till frae less to 
 mair the wives held daily meetin's, and their preein's 
 began to tell on their breath, their bairns, their 
 hames, and their meals, which had to be scrimpit for
 
 146 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 
 
 the sake o' ' a drain/ as they ca'd it. So yon will 
 observe (said Hawkie) that the men led their wives 
 astray, the women led the weans astray, while a' the 
 Bletherbags o' society were talking aboot puttin' 
 things richt wi' the words that cam oot o' their 
 mouths, and puttin' a' things wrang wi' the drink 
 which they put in their mouth. So you see that 
 Society's mouth talks ae way and acts anither : there- 
 fore it is deceitfu' an* desperately wicked. And I 
 think that I ha'e made gude that dra'ken women are 
 the patrons o' the police ; and till their men ha'e 
 something mair than shop-crack to lay before them, 
 their emancipation frae slavery maun lie in the far 
 distance." 
 
 Hawkie, for years before his death, was a sort of 
 bird of passage. He went out of sight in the cold 
 weather, when he had his home in the poor's-house.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 HAWKIE AS A WIT. 
 
 "mHERE'S queer folk in the Shaws" is an aukl 
 _L assertion. The Rev. Peter Henderson preached 
 there at one time. He had a fine appreciation of the 
 ridiculous, and used to be on terms of intimacy with 
 Hawkie, which intimacy began in the poor's-house. 
 Before Mr Henderson was licensed to preach, he was 
 in the habit of attending the poor's-house and con- 
 versing with the inmates. After receiving licence he 
 was to start on a travelling mission to some out-of- 
 the-way district where he would be away for at least 
 six months, so the first call he made after obtaining 
 his licence was to. the poor's-house. He called at 
 the matron's room to give her the news, and found 
 Hawkie seated by the fire reading to her the " Gentle 
 Shepherd," by Allan Ramsay. This was the first 
 meeting of him and Hawkie. After informing the 
 matron as to his new position in society, she eyed 
 him very attentively; so did Hawkie. She said, 
 with a kindly feeling, "I'm sorry, Mr Henderson, 
 that you are going to leave us ; but when it is for 
 your good, we should rejoice rather. But, dear me,
 
 148 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 you are a young man to be intrusted with sucli a 
 sacred mission." 
 
 Hawkie had laid the book, face down, on his 
 thigh, and was making a study of the young divine, 
 who really confessed that he felt a little vain of the 
 position he had attained, and fancied, from the steady 
 way with which Hawkie surveyed him, that he also 
 was in the same spirit as the matron ; when Hawkie, 
 by way of putting his construction on the business, 
 said, in his own quaint way, " Ou, ay ; he'll do weel 
 enough. The creature 'ill no be sax weeks at it till he 
 be fley'in the puir deevils wi' hell, the same as if he 
 had been born in't and brocht up in't a' his days !" 
 And with that he lifted the book and applied his een 
 to its surface. Mr Henderson said that the remark 
 took the wind out o' his sails. He found his vanity 
 reproved, and he liked Hawkie ever after. When 
 we were speaking of him one day, he said he thought 
 Hawkie had forgotten him now, as he had not spoken 
 to him for a long time. I advised him to test 
 Hawkie with a penny some day, and ask him 
 whether or not. Next time I saw him, he began 
 to laugh, and said : " Well, I saw Hawkie, gave him 
 a penny, and said to him, 'I'm thinking, William, 
 that you have forgotten me now.' 'I'm no 
 thinkin't, Mr Henderson; I make it a rule in my 
 profession to know no man after the flesh. It's 
 quite sufficient for my purpose that they ken me.
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 149 
 
 But to let you ken that I ha'ena forgotten you, I 
 may tell you just noo that I am coming out to 
 Pollokshaws some Sunday ere lang to preach a 
 sermon in aid o' the Sustentation Fund. I'm gaun 
 to tak' up my stand at your yett. I'll ha'e a white 
 clout aneath my auld hat that day, and I hope you'll 
 be liberal. I'll ha'e a' your flock as hearers on the 
 occasion, and yoursel' amang them ; for nane o' them 
 will leave me to follow you.' " 
 
 At the time when the Queen visited Glasgow, a 
 triumphal arch was erected at the Broomielaw Bridge. 
 It was lofty and massive, and many were the disputes 
 about its height as well as its other points. One day 
 Hawkie was inspecting it among some others, when 
 a discussion took place as to its height. One of the 
 crowd asked Hawkie what height he thought it was ? 
 He turned up his cheek like a jackdaw, and, with 
 great good-nature replied, " I think it's the height o' 
 nonsense !" 
 
 The platform at the foot of Dale Street, which was 
 erected for the reception of her Majesty on her visit 
 on the day that she did not come, was occupied at 
 night with youths making sport; and in a conspicuous 
 corner of it sat Hawkie, well steeped in loyalty. He 
 had been drinking her Majesty's health. The young 
 audience were teasing him as being the cause of 
 keeping back her Majesty by desecrating the landing 
 place. He lost temper, and swore at them till he
 
 150 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 lost breath and speech. I went forward to him and 
 soothed him; I let him know that surely he had 
 parted with his philosophy when he cast out with 
 the young folk. " 0, man," said he, " I'm sensible 
 that every faculty is leavin' me, and the callauts 
 ken it as weel as mysel'. I'll soon ha'e to gang to 
 the grass like Nebucha'nazer." 
 
 The last time I saw him he was standing opposite 
 the dooi of a whisky-shop at the foot of the Salt- 
 market. He was holding out his emaciated hand at 
 his eyes' level. I had only one bawbee in the world, 
 and it was in my pouch. His eye met mine, and 
 instinctively I laid my last bawbee in Hawkie's loof. 
 He looked around his audience, and in a plaintive 
 tone of voice said, " Cover that, some o' you." There 
 was no response. He looked in my face and said, 
 " Providence ! an open han', an open heart, an open 
 door, a drouth, and the means o' quenchin' it." So 
 saying, he crawled in to the counter for a bawbee's- 
 worth of whisky. Peace to his ashes, for he w;i.- 
 weel burnt up before he left us ! 
 
 " There's queer folk in the Shaws." An anecdote, 
 related to me by the Rev. Mr Henderson, will 
 illustrate the fact. I was one day in conversation 
 with him in his own house at Shawfield. AYe 
 were discussing character, as exhibited by format ion 
 of body and brain. He was taking exceptions to the 
 rule, and had taken his and my friend Hawkie as an
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 151 
 
 exception the inward man belying the outward. 
 An Irish nawie passed on the far side of the road, 
 when Mr Henderson took a peculiar fit of laughing, 
 and said, " Tell me what sort o' brain that ane has ?" 
 I replied, "If ever he had any, there has been an 
 avalanche, for it has slidden down his back and 
 may have found a resting-place in his breeks." He 
 laughed still more at my answer, thinking that I had 
 made a hit whether by guess or otherwise. " Oh," 
 said he, " I think that man is a genius in his way. 
 He called on me one day lately, and with character- 
 istic politeness asked, 'Would your rev'rence be so 
 kind as give me a line to get on to the soup-kitchen 
 in Pollokshaws ?' I looked at the man for a little. 
 There was something familiar about him that I liked, 
 and I remarked, ' I think, sir, that I have seen you 
 before ?' ' Troth have ye, sur ; didn't your rev'rence 
 marry me on Thursday- was-eight-days ?' ' Dear me, 
 man, and what could put it into your head to marry a 
 wife with such poor prospects of keeping her ?' 'Well, 
 since your rev'rence wishes to know, I'll tell ye. You 
 must know, sur, that she applied to get on to the 
 soup-kitchen, and her being a single woman, sorrow 
 a bit if they would allow hur ; and I wished to get 
 on to the soup-kitchen also, and the never a bit if 
 they would listen to me. Had I been a married 
 man, they said, it would have been another thing ; 
 so your rev'rence will observe that by getting married
 
 152 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 it will sarve us both.' " I asked Mr Henderson if he 
 gave the line required ? " Most assuredly/' said he ; 
 " who could resist such logic ?" 

 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 WILLIAM FULTON OF GLEXFIELD. 
 
 ROBEET OWEX, auld Hawkie, and Willie Fulton 
 follow each other as if by some legitimate right 
 of character. Each formed a centre round which 
 many worthy friends rallied, looked at them, listened 
 to them, and liked them. They have all passed 
 away, each leaving a distinct character behind him. 
 On the 4th November, 1868, I saw in the Glasgow 
 Herald the death of William Fulton of Glenfield. 
 Another peculiar worthy old friend had left our 
 earth. For near to forty years we had been on 
 terms of intimacy. Willie Fulton possessed a heart 
 as big as Eobert Owen; would have made man 
 right if he could ; was in possession of all the wit of 
 Hawkie, and gave it forth to the world with a 
 kindliness peculiarly his own. His manner often 
 more than his matter was felt by the listener's eye 
 and ear in such a way as no pen can do justice to in 
 the relation of the best bits of his life. A few of his 
 peculiarities will nevertheless be essential to tell 
 among those of other heroes. Some kindly bits there 
 were in the life of the laird o' Glenfield. Willie's
 
 154 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 face was ever full of sincerity and joyous youth. In 
 early life he was a weaver, and wrought in the west 
 end of Paisley. When a boy he used to muse on the 
 queer shapes of society without being able to under- 
 stand them, far less explain them. All his ideas 
 fell back into himself. He decided for himself, and 
 wondered at the difference between folk's talking and 
 acting. His boyish ideas of Tannahill, the poet, were 
 simple^ yet natural. He heard folk talk of Tannahill. 
 He was brought up near to where the poet was born 
 and lived. He saw him daily. In his young eyes 
 the only difference he could notice between the 
 poet and other people was a difference in dress 
 and walk : a short-tailed light-blue coat, with clear 
 or yellow buttons on't; a buff waistcoat; light 
 cashmere breeches, buttoned at the knee; often 
 white stockings; a white apron round about his 
 waist ; his shoes always brightly polished ; his shoes 
 had double ties, whereas others wore single ties ; he 
 had a statelier, though slower, walk than other 
 weavers, and always walked on the middle of the 
 street. As Willie grew bigger he heard some folk 
 saying that they didna think that Tannahill gaed to 
 see, or speak even, wi' the Lass o' Arranteenie, or 
 Jessie the Flower o' Dunblane, or even Mary whaus 
 heart he won in the "bonnie woods o' Craigielea." 
 Willie cou'dna understand that sort o' nonsense. 
 I visited TannahilTs house, No. 6 Queen Street, in
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTER. 155 
 
 company with Willie in the afternoon of his life. "We 
 \vent through to the back-door, and sat down on a seat 
 where once had been a bower. I looked in the face 
 of Willie Fulton that day as a perfect study. There 
 was a calm silence in every feature as his eyes went 
 from one point to another. He looked me full in the 
 face, and said : " Man, I've seen Eobin sitting here, 
 living as we are. We have, his sangs yet, and they 
 will live as lang as folk think and feel as we do." 
 On each side of us flowers were growing. Willie 
 looked at them, and said : " I wonder if those will be 
 really the flowers that Eobin looked on ; if no, they 
 are their descendants. There's the piona rose (peony;, 
 sutherwood, thyme, sweetmary, tanzy, the dusty 
 miller, mint, daisies, and roses. There's nae new- 
 fangled flowers there. Man, I think that there is far 
 mair poetry in the auld flowers, such as our grannies 
 used to tak' a bab o' in their han' to the kirk. I ha'e 
 looked in at that window mony a time when Eobin 
 was weavin' there. He was the prettiest shuttler I 
 ever saw. There was an evenness in the way he 
 pitched the shot from which he never varied, and he 
 had a wee box on the tap o' his loom in which he 
 keepit his writings, and he had a slate that hung on 
 his loompost. I ha'e seen him tak' that slate and jot 
 down something on't." 
 
 The tenant of the house came out and asked us to 
 come in. We went into the kitchen. I was invited
 
 156 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 to sit down in the big chair. I did so. Willie took 
 a look at me, and said : " I ha'e seen Eobin Tannahill 
 sit in that same corner, suppin' his parritch aff his 
 knee out o' a bowl soomin' wi' milk. I think that 
 nae other meal has the grandeur o' parritch, and no 
 table so sensible as the knees : haudin steady wi' the 
 one han' and suppin' wi' the ither, and the medium 
 o' conveyance a horn spoon. The poet used to sleep 
 in a bed which stood in that corner. However, baith 
 the bed and him are awa', and we'll ha'e to gang 
 likewise." We thanked the tenant for his civility, 
 and left quite refreshed. One great beauty in a walk 
 wi' Willie was that he was ever young the morning 
 of life fresh, and every place full of incident where 
 either he or some other friend in other days had said 
 or done something worth speaking about. 
 
 A kindly anecdote came forth that day of Willie's 
 morning history. There was a curious kindliness in 
 the way that he prefaced himself to a frien'. " Man, 
 when I tak' a turn through this part o' the toun, 
 what a rush o' auld langsyne comes at times o'er my 
 mind. As we were speakin' o' Tannahill and his 
 loves, accordin' to ither folk's notions, I ha'e mind o' 
 a pleasing point in my past life, when I had an 
 experience o' the same kind o' love as that imputed 
 to him. At the shop whaur I served my time as a 
 weaver there was a baker whose back-door cam' out 
 to our door. There was a bit lassock serviii' wi' the
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEK. 157 
 
 baker, and I never got a sicht o' that creature but I 
 saw some new beauty about her. She was trig and 
 clean, and had a self -pleased look even when she saw 
 naebody lookin' at her. The charm grew till I thocht 
 she had a' the charms o' an angel. There was nae- 
 thing earthly about her or me when I saw her, and I 
 began to feel how easy it would be for Tannahill to 
 write poetry about folk he had never spoken to as 
 weel as I could ha'e done it. I thought poetry about 
 her, though I cou'dna express't; and, man, it sae 
 turned out that the lassock took a sair fit, and she 
 was sae lame that she wasna able for her wark ; and 
 such was the unfeelin' shape o' the baker and his 
 wife that the lassock was to gang name to her folks, 
 wha lived somewhere about Glasgow. The puir 
 thing cam' out hirplin' to the back-door, set doon her 
 bundle at her fit, and leant hersel' against the wa' ; 
 and, man, she grat sair. I looked at her till I thocht 
 my heart wad ha'e burst to ha'e relieved her ; and, 
 man, I often think that nature is aye true to hersel'. 
 Although I had often wished to speak to her, I 
 never could muster the courage : man, that day I 
 gaed forrit to her like a man, and speert what ailed 
 her. She telt me. I said, 'Stan' there twa-three 
 minutes, and be sure you don't leave till I come 
 back.' 
 
 " Man, when I was a callant my mither trained me 
 to carefu' habits, and I had begun to lay by my
 
 158 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 pennies; and, d'ye ken? I had three white half- 
 croons in the shuttle o' my kist. Human eye had 
 never seen them since they were mine. I had the 
 big half o' a fourth in coppers. I ran harae, and 
 into my kist, and out wi' my whole capital, and down 
 to whaur I had left the lass, and she was standin' 
 there still, no a soul takin' the least interest in her. 
 Man, I gaed forrit to her and put the three half- 
 croons into her han', and told her to stan' there for 
 a wee and then to gang through to the fore-door, and 
 I would send up a carriage for her, and she was just 
 to step into it without speerin' ony questions; it 
 would tak' her doon to the coach office. Man, I 
 ran doon to Lyons', trysted the carriage, sent it up, 
 but was there before it. 
 
 "When the carriage cam', a' the gapin', glowrin', 
 dirty wives hi the district were there to see what was 
 ado. The lassock cam' limpin' through, and steppit 
 into it wi' a grace that pleased me. She took her 
 seat in't and took a look out ; our een met, and that 
 look repaid me for partin' wi' a' my world's gear in 
 the shape o' siller ; but, man, a' the siller ever I saw 
 wasna equal to that glance o' the lassock ; and, man, 
 I thocht that my heart had gane wi' her ; nicht and 
 day for lang I thocht o' her, and that last look had a 
 life in it. Oh ! If I could ha'e written poetry, there 
 was as muckle in me as wad ha'e filled a volume. 
 However, she was awa', and aye awa'. Weel I mind
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 159 
 
 the first time I saw Willie MotherwelTa poem o' 
 Jeanie Morrison. How that lassie cam' before me 
 in thae soul-felt lines whaur he speers if ever she 
 thocht o' him the same way as he thocht o' her ? I 
 thocht mony a time that I wad like to ken, and would 
 feel satisfied if she had enjoyed the-same happiness 
 in receiving the gift as the giving had afforded me 
 pleasure. Man, Hunter, d'ye ken, I think that our 
 instincts are far in advance o' our reason. ' Do unto 
 others even as you would they should do unto you' 
 is a feeling and a fact. "We never gang wrang till 
 we begin to reason, for then we begin to look at the 
 past, and gang forrit wi' our back foremost, and fa' 
 into holes and sloughs, and come out a' dirt, and 
 reason again, and no a whit wiser. 
 
 "Man, after I cam' to Glenfield I keepit aye a 
 guid horse. I like to see a bonnie horse, and, as a 
 natural consequence, I like to own one. I mind o' 
 haein' a chesnut horse. You may ha'e seen him. 
 He was ayont saxteen hands high, and he carried his 
 head wi' a sort o' pride which made me proud o' him. 
 I was in Glasgow ae day, and had my business soon 
 by ; so I thocht that I would tak' a ride down the 
 length o' the Yoker, cross the Clyde at Eenfrew Ferry, 
 and gang up to Paisley at my leisure. Even though 
 I ha'e the means o' gaun fast through the world, I 
 like to gang at my leisure. So when I cam' down 
 the road a wee bit below Partick I met an open
 
 160 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 carriage wi' a lady and four young lassocks iii't ; and 
 what seem'd to me a queer affair, my horse began to 
 rear and jump in such a way as I had never seen him 
 do before. He showed such capers that the lady 
 gave orders to stop her carriage. She asked if I was 
 afraid ? I said, ' Oh, no, ma'am ; for wherever the 
 horse taks a notion to gang I think that I can gae 
 wi' him : that is, I think I can stick on his back ; 
 but I would like him to gang my way. However, this 
 is the first caper o' the kind ever I saw him perform.' 
 The horse stood like a lamb while she and I were 
 speakin', and she says, 'Were you once William 
 Fulton?' Says I, 'Ma'am, I was ance Willie 
 Fulton, and I believe I'm him yet.' She says, '0, 
 Willie, do you know me ?' I said, ' No, ma'am ; I do 
 not.' '0, William, do you mind giving me three 
 half-crowns when I left my service in the west end 
 o' Paisley ?' ' Lord, woman, whaur ha'e ye been a' 
 this tune?' She said, 'If you will dine with my 
 husband, myself, and family to-day, in the Black Bull 
 Inn, Glasgow, I'll tell you. 0, William, how kindly 
 I have thotfght of you ! The thought has often kept 
 my heart up when difficulties seemed to overwhelm 
 me.' Then said I, ' Ma'ani, I'll just turn and gang 
 back wi' you.' My horse walked like a lamb by the 
 side o' the carriage till we reached the Black Bull. 
 
 " I met wi' her husband, when she said, ' Oh, my 
 dear, this is the boy -who gave me the three half-
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 161 
 
 crowns I have so often told you of.' Man (said 
 Willie), we had a dinner and a conversation such as 
 honesty of purpose and undisguised humanity alone 
 can allow a body to partake of. I let them ken that 
 I had embarked a' my worldly property in the great 
 enterprise, and up to that moment the reward had 
 been great but dubious. Now, it was heavenly, satis- 
 factory, and grand. Man, if we do our duty and wait 
 the results, we'll no be often disappointed. Some 
 way, man, my heart grew big whenever I thocht o' 
 the affair; and when I got a' her history frae the 
 time she left the baker's door, went to Glasgow, then 
 to America wi' some friends, fell in wi' this chiel, 
 got married, their success in business, and coinin' 
 hame wi' their four dochters to get them schooled in 
 this country, the whole affair cam' up in my mind 
 like a dream. I find, man, although I had never 
 done a wholesome action in my life but that ane, it 
 would ha'e been to me a solace against a' the evil 
 ever I did, for when it comes in my head I feel 
 happy yet." Such is a note from the life of a man 
 whose sayings and doings were like himself ! 
 
 At one time in life Willie thought that to be 
 proprietor of a fine big grey horse and a bleachfield 
 cart would be the height of his ambition. There was 
 no shape a horse could appear in that he looked so 
 well as in a bleachfield cart ; but, reasoning on the 
 matter, the big horse and cart belonged to the 
 M
 
 162 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 bleacher. Willie married a wife, a Miss Alexander, 
 an auld neighbour of mine frae the Gas Brae of 
 Kilmarnock. She was of the right sort, and, on 
 entering on life's journey in consort with him, pro- 
 posed that economy should be a something on the 
 front of their union, and accumulation the product. 
 He was a warper in Fulton's wareroom when I knew 
 him first. He had a set wage, and had seven-and- 
 sixpence a week for some evening clerking to a friend 
 whose business required his help in that way. The 
 wife proposed that this seven-and-sixpence, along 
 with her winnings, should be laid aside ; " and," said 
 Willie, " you would have been surprised to see how 
 soon we had sixty pounds at our account in the bank. 
 I had often talked, just to please mysel', as to ideal 
 shape in the world. If Glenfield were mine, how I 
 would retain its grandeur; there was something 
 about it art would destroy ; there was perfection as 
 it was. If it were mine, all the people of Paisley 
 would be at liberty to come and walk by the braes 
 and glens as if they were their own. 
 
 " It so turned out that an acquaintance who had 
 often heard me talk in that way called on me and 
 said, ' Glenfield's in the market, either to let or sell.' 
 'And what of that ?' quo' I ; ' I think that I ha'e only 
 as muckle as wad buy the horse and cart.' ' Then,' 
 said he, ' we'll tak' a walk out the morn, and we'll ha'e 
 a look at it.' " And so they had. Willie's love for the
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEK. 163 
 
 beautiful in nature was true and constant. "Were 
 the heights and howes mine," he would say, " I wad 
 big nice cottages in every lown corner, and try to 
 entice the folk frae Paisley wha are in the habit o' 
 gaun to the coast. There are beauties here that the 
 coast couldna vie wi', and at half the expense."
 
 CHAPTEE XXIII. 
 
 WILLIE FULTON continued. 
 
 "m HERE'S an auld say in', 'Bode for a silk gown, 
 J_ and ye may get the sleeve o't.' Mony a time 
 I ha'e thocht that the whole affair was like a dream. 
 To think that I used to blether about a horse and 
 cart; then about Glenfield braes; and now, by the 
 kindness o' a frien', the help o' a guid wife, and some 
 unseen help, I am actually in possession o' a place I 
 would have selected above all other places on earth ! 
 yet never would ha'e ta'en a step to the side to take 
 the right o't out o' ony man's han'. It's said that we 
 are short-sighted mortals, but I think whiles, if we 
 keep our een in the right direction, we'll see far 
 enough." Willie said that it was a great boon to 
 ha'e clergymen and politicians to think for us and 
 put a' things right. In Gospel truth, as in political 
 hazard, we were happiest when we kent naething 
 and cared less. In ordinary cases we were weel 
 named sheep, for when ane jumps a' jump; our 
 herds were paid and pleased. A great many sayings 
 of Willie Fulton are in circulation; many of his 
 doings were never meant to see the light. When
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 165 
 
 James Lee, governor of Stanley Castle, was in his 
 last illness, Willie said that, as he was Jamie's elder, 
 he had to look after his temporal and spiritual 
 wants, "For, oh, man, if I were unweel like him, 
 and him as weel as I am, he would let me want for 
 naething within his reach." For a time I visited 
 with Willie daily, and it was a fine sight to see and 
 hear those two men commune together. There was 
 always some unfortunate brother or sister needing 
 their help, and the single-hearted way it was to be 
 done always pleased me. While in life, neither doubt 
 nor fear fashed either of those two great hearts, now 
 still in death. It was duty they spoke of. 
 
 I met Willie one day at the Cross of Paisley. He 
 said that he had a bit errand out to the west-end, and 
 asked if I would accompany him. I had time and 
 no objections. When we reached Queen Street we 
 stood and looked down to No. 6, as we had done 
 before. We looked into each other's faces and passed 
 on. Thus the once abode of Tannahill was passed in 
 silence. Farther up the Broomlands, at the corner of 
 a street, there stood a wearied-looking old man with 
 his back to the wall. "Oh, man," said Willie, 
 "yonder's a curious auld cheepin' soul. I don't 
 think I ever met that man in my life but he had 
 something to yowl about." We went forward, and 
 Willie, with a cheerful inquiry, says, " How's a' the 
 day ?" The answer came back in a sort of plaintive
 
 166 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 wail : " Oh, Mr Fulton, I'm real poorly ; I ha'e lost 
 my wife since I saw you last." " Oh, faith !" said 
 Willie, " but ye ha'e cause to yowl now, for ye ha'e 
 lost a frien' ; she was the best spoke in the wheel." 
 Willie put his hand into his pocket and brought 
 forth some bank-notes. Taking two off the outside, 
 he said, " Hae," to his old shopmate ; " that will help 
 a wee to put you right, although it canna keep you 
 right." The old man burst into tears like a child. 
 Willie cou'dna stand the sight, and hurried away. 
 " I can really excuse him for cheepin' the day : he 
 has met wi' a sair loss. I was gaun to pay for a cow ; 
 that's twa pounds aff the fore end o't ; the man will 
 be able to want that till the morn." 
 
 Willie was the originator of Glenfield Patent Starch, 
 and it was got up as a joke. After he improved some 
 of the machinery used at Glenfield, he could perform 
 the work with fewer hands, and was at one time 
 changing his arrangements ; and for a few weeks he 
 would not require his women workers, but he found 
 that if he were parting with them he might not so 
 easily get them together again. He had some sago 
 left, the which he put through a process for making 
 it into starch ; and to this work he set some of the 
 women. He had got a great quantity of labels on 
 which was printed " Glenfield Patent Starch." This 
 diversion took up the spare time of the women 
 workers, and in one night he inundated Paisley with
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 167 
 
 Glenfield Patent Starch. Every window in the 
 Causewayside where it was permitted had it in. 
 Willie began to calculate what might be in the 
 starch as a business ; confided it to a friend by 
 adoption Mr Mathew Cochran. Mathew had been 
 a manufacturer, but had fallen into bad health and 
 could not prosecute the business to make it pay. 
 Mathew was bedfast when Willie continued to visit 
 him, and one day he thought Mathew more dis- 
 consolate than usual; and on pressing him for the 
 cause, Mathew said that he would like to live so as 
 to be enabled to leave his sister twenty pounds 
 a year. " Man, Mathew, if that be a', I'll gi'e you 
 my han' that I'll gi'e her twenty pound a year as 
 lang as she lives." Mathew burst out in tears of 
 gratitude, and shortly after left the world in the full 
 assurance that Willie would keep his word, as he did. 
 I went along with him when he made the last pay- 
 ment. 
 
 Willie was fond of poets and poetry. I met him 
 once, when he informed me that Paisley had not 
 been without a poet for the last hundred years till 
 only two days back. " Now," said he, " nature cannot 
 suffer a vacuum ; and hasna Sandy M'Gilvray come 
 back frae .America to fill up the gap ?" I had in 
 other years proposed to get up a night in Paisley for 
 the benefit of the Infirmary, the performance to be 
 a night with the poets. Willie was willing to take
 
 168 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 Sandy Wilson, the ornithologist; the late James 
 "VVaterstone was to take Tannahill ; I was to repre- 
 sent Sandy M'Gilvray. We had not got a fourth ; 
 every one was to be representative of his poet. The 
 scheme fell abortive. 
 
 Willie thought that we required living examples 
 at times to keep us in proper tune. A dirty-looking 
 beggarman used to come to Glenfield, and stay at 
 night about the outhouses ; Willie began to take a 
 notion of him, because every one about the place was 
 ill-pleased with his looks and named him the ugly 
 Glenfield beggar. One day when I was taking a 
 walk with Willie, he expressed a wish to make the 
 beggarman comfortable ; he thought that he would 
 like just to have him a' to himsel'. We went and 
 cleaned out an outhouse beside the works, put up a 
 bed and a fireplace, swept it out, put on a fire, and 
 made 'the place comfortable. We went out and met 
 the beggarman. He was really far frae being bonny ; 
 he was weakly in intellect, black-complexioned, and 
 gleyed in one of his eyes, which made him that you 
 didna ken what he was lookin' at. 
 
 Willie went forward to him and gave him notice 
 of what he had done for him, telling him that if he 
 had any hidden treasure about his auld claes to get 
 it removed, for he was going to burn them ; and he 
 was going to hand him ower to the women to scour. 
 The poor man gave a strange look. " Weel, weel,"
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 169 
 
 said Willie, " I'll gi'e you to the men ; but scoured 
 you must be. You will get plenty of warm water 
 and soap, and a clean sark and a suit o' claes ; and 
 the only thing I ask o' you is, that after you are 
 cleaned you are to keep yourself clean." We in- 
 stalled him in his house, and it gave Willie great 
 pleasure to see the ugly beggarman frae Glenfield 
 come and go a new man. 
 
 One day Willie was looking up the bonnie places 
 o' the burn up the glen. " Man," quo' he, " here is a 
 quiet neuk where I would like to put up a hut if I 
 could meet wi' some silly soul that was pleased wi' 
 everything he saw or got ane that was aboon the 
 grief o' grumblin' ; and there's anither place a wee 
 bit farther up that I wad like to ha'e anither quite 
 the reverse, that was pleased wi' nothing in the 
 world ane whause face was out o' shape wi' yowlin'. 
 They wad be such a fine contrast to gang and look at 
 and listen to, just accordin' to the mood ye were in. 
 I wad ca' them expounders o' humanity in its lights 
 and shades." 
 
 Willie took a decided stand in whatever was 
 intrusted to him. He was at one time connected 
 with the poor's-board ; so was Patrick Brewster, a 
 man who was sternly opinionative and had a strong 
 desire to be just and fear not. He feared no foe, 
 and sometimes had the knack of making them. On 
 one occasion, when a large meeting of ladies and
 
 170 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 gentlemen had been at the poor's-house, some dis- 
 cussion took place between the Eev. Patrick and 
 Willie. Patrick wished to have some things his 
 own way. Willie said that the law was against 
 such procedure, and Brewster found himself cornered 
 by law. He turned against his man, and appealing 
 to the audience, said, " What do I care for this man, 
 who does not believe in a God ?" Willie took the 
 declaration in good part, and said: "Ladies and 
 gentlemen, it disna matter muckle to Mr Brewster 
 whether I believe in a God or no ; but I wad like to 
 ken how he has arrived at his conclusion, for I'm sure 
 a' the time we ha'e lived neebors he never speer'd at 
 me whether or no ; and if he thinks the thing o' 
 personal importance, he might ha'e tried to convince 
 me by some means. But, ladies and gentlemen, I 
 canna see o' what importance my faith in such a 
 thing can be to Mr Brewster, while we are intrusted 
 by the public to do a piece o' their business accordin' 
 to laws laid down for us, not requiring faith frae 
 either him or me. But, Mr Brewster, if it will be of 
 ony service to you to ken my belief in an opposite 
 direction, I'll tell you before these witnesses that I'll 
 believe in a Deevil, as lang as ye're living ony way." 
 Willie's life was before the world free from black 
 spots, full of sunshine and summer influences. His 
 life could form a volume of itself. I have given a 
 few personal notes from my own standpoint, and
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 171 
 
 could fancy the epitaph written by Burns for Gavin 
 Hamilton by a simple transposition to serve them 
 both : 
 
 The poor man weeps - 
 Here Willie sleeps, 
 
 Whom canting wretches blamed ; 
 But with such as he, 
 Where'er he be, 
 
 May I be saved or damned.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 A DOCTOR'S STORY. 
 
 WHEN Doctor M'Kinlay lived in the New Street 
 of Paisley, in 1838, I was often in his com- 
 pany. He was a kindly, single-hearted man, far 
 from being communicative except where he had 
 confidence. One night we sat alone : it was near to 
 midnight. We had spoken of many things during 
 the fore part of the night. The doctor seemed grave 
 and serious beyond his ordinary. He had been 
 asking me some questions as to my struggles on the 
 road to my professional position as an artist. I 
 made some frank explanations of past struggles, 
 which so pleased him that I saw the tears trickling 
 down his manly cheeks. I had mentioned cases 
 where I could have asked sympathy of men, but not 
 being sure of getting it, would rather make my 
 complaint if I had one to make to an auld yett that 
 the boys had swung off its hinges, or to a mile-stone 
 which they had battered with stones till the figures 
 telling its mission were obliterated. Indeed, I told 
 him of laying my case at one time before a mile- 
 stone till I saw tears running out of every scar in
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 173 
 
 its face. I was sure that such tears were honest 
 and from its heart. I went home quite pleased that 
 I had affected the heart of one who had been abused 
 by the coming men they of all others in whom I 
 had confided. I had faith in the boys then, and 
 have so still. 
 
 The Doctor laughed and said, "I can sympathise 
 with you as well as the stone did. I have groped 
 my way in silence thus far, and find that if I had 
 asked sympathy I would have been disappointed. 
 A man cannot reason his own course in life where 
 he has only enthusiasm for a spur, and hope far 
 ahead. There is something like inspiration in the 
 hidden mysteries of every upward tendency. When 
 I went first to the classes every person but my 
 mother thought that such a step was madness ; 
 and she, poor woman, was as earnest as myself. I 
 kept a school, and had from a small income laid 
 aside as much as entered me in the classes for the 
 first year in the college. I had three shillings left ; 
 to make out six months in Glasgow with that sum 
 was a mystery I had not as yet tried to solve. My 
 one idea was to come through the college for a 
 doctor. I had taken the first step, and determined 
 not to look back. I had passed the most of the first 
 day in Glasgow looking for lodgings, and near to 
 night I was successful in getting a small closet frae 
 an auld Highland woman far down the Broomielaw.
 
 174 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEE. 
 
 There was no fireplace in the room, and much broken 
 plaster. It was the cheapest place I had seen, and 
 so I took it. To be paid in advance was named as a 
 first principle with the old woman; that being settled, 
 I sallied forth to lay in some provisions sugar, tea, 
 a farrel o' cakebread, and a saut herrin' were the 
 contents of the larder. I had been in the habit of 
 getting all things laid in for me and kindly set before 
 me. This part of the business was also new, and the 
 first case of dissection was cutting the herring into 
 three equal parts one part to be taken as kitchen 
 to each meal. I had my lessons to prepare for to- 
 morrow, and in this part of the performance the 
 candle had yielded its illuminating power. As I 
 was making for bed by the flicker of its dying rays 
 I saw an array of bugs coming out from the broken 
 plaster and down the walls, making their own calcu- 
 lations no doubt as to having their supper off me and 
 giving me a welcome to Glasgow. There was no use 
 of trying to reason with them; only I thought if 
 they knew how little blood I had to spare, they 
 would go somewhere else and get their supper. 
 
 " I went to bed, but not to sleep. I had to practise 
 the art of self-defence against the bugs, and began to 
 ruminate on my prospects. I saw that Saturday 
 could be accomplished on the last eighteenpence, but 
 where the next was to come from was yet a study. 
 My mother had a fat sow. I had not as yet ventured
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEE. 175 
 
 to ask if my education was to be got by the sow's 
 death, although I could see no other means; and 
 from the cheerful manner my mother bade me go 
 forth trusting in a higher Power, I felt as if my hope 
 for the first session was based on pork. It was so, 
 for when I came home on Saturday the sow was sold 
 and the money down. It would have made a picture 
 to have seen with what earnestness the old woman 
 laid the money on the table, along with a better meal 
 than I had partaken of since I had left her dwelling 
 on the Monday. I made a calculation, and saw that 
 old people had a way of looking at a sum. ' A cow 
 in a clout is soon out.' I naturally thought the 
 same of a sow in a clout. With this amount before 
 me I resolved on the same path to be repeated next 
 week the herring, cake, and tea. As for butter, to 
 see it in the windows in passing was a luxury meant 
 for some other customers than one seeking knowledge. 
 Sometimes when laying the knife on the herring I 
 fain would have cut it in two to have an extra 
 meal ; but, no, I must first be just : three meals were 
 essential. Thus I reasoned, thus I fed, and thus I 
 lodged while coming through the classes. I set the 
 old woman to war with the bugs next morning after 
 my first encounter with them, and by an application 
 of diluted saltpetre, made their homes too hot for 
 them. I have been sometimes sorry to see youths at 
 college with more money supplied by their parents
 
 176 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 than they really required, and hurting their health 
 with the superfluous; but my health was like to 
 suffer from want of the proper necessaries. A bawbee 
 scone was sometimes to me a luxury the only one 
 I tried in addition to my standard fare. However, I 
 learned lessons in economy, lessons in humility, and 
 lessons in self-denial, which have been to me a source 
 of comfort since. I commenced practice as a surgeon 
 in Paisley, and did well My having served a time to 
 plain feeding was in my favour. I began to lay past 
 a few pounds, and was getting on better than my 
 most sanguine hopes could have expected or even 
 dreamed. When the cholera visited Paisley in 1832 
 I was named at a meeting of the authorities as one 
 who should be chosen by them to look after the 
 public interest. I was consulted, and felt dis- 
 posed to decline. It was named as an honour a 
 step in the right direction. To be elected by the 
 wealthy to look over the poor was surely something; 
 yet I was suspicious that although I gratified them I 
 might suffer personally. However, surrounded by 
 seemingly personal friends and well-wishers, I 
 yielded, and was announced as doctor for Paisley. 
 Next day, when I came in from my first visitation, 
 the table was literally clad with cards full of loving 
 assurances, all ending with " Please, doctor, don't call 
 at our house till requested." I saw then that I had 
 put my head into the loop : I was thus at once
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 177 
 
 disjointed from the business that I had made. 
 Doctors came to Paisley to witness the disease. 
 When they called on the authorities for information, 
 they were sent to me with the compliments of such 
 and such-a-one. I received all into my house and 
 confidence who came, and otherwise made them 
 comfortable : I kept a good table, and had a good 
 attendance. I thought that I might get some re- 
 muneration for this extra and unlooked-for expense. 
 I had lifted nearly all the money I had in the bank, 
 and applied it in the expenditure of extras for which 
 I had not calculated, without asking any money from 
 the authorities, from whom I was to have four pounds 
 a week. Eight weeks and three days had passed, and 
 the cholera had subsided. A meeting was held, and 
 it was deemed unnecessary to continue such an 
 extravagant outlay of public money any longer ; so I 
 was sent for, and, without asking my account, it was 
 made up. ' Four times eight are thirty- two, and two 
 are thirty-four.' This was laid down, and a discharged 
 account asked. I pocketed the one and gave the other. 
 I sat down at home here, and began to ruminate as to 
 how I should proceed. A doctor dare not advertise 
 .unless removing ; he may name his removal. 
 
 " I knew that the public looked on me as having 
 
 made a fortune, and I did not wish them to change 
 
 their mind on the subject, for somehow, if you are 
 
 thought rich you are worth having, but if you are 
 
 N
 
 178 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 poor your skill is lessened in a professional capacity. 
 I went to my brother-in-law, Robin, whom I knew 
 to be a sagacious man, and had a crack with him. I 
 let him know how 1 looked on my position, and how 
 I wished to change it : I wished to be on the side of 
 the public, and give some evidence that they were 
 correct in their views. I told Eobin that I wished 
 to buy a horse and gig to get rather a smart affair, 
 with a boy to drive, who was to have a silver belt 
 about his hat. I had not as much money of my own 
 as to do the grand, and I wished every avenue closed 
 outside as to being hard- up, so I asked Eobin to 
 stand by me in the new start : everything was to be 
 a cash transaction, and look the world in the face. 
 This was done, and a drive through the town daily 
 was an excellent advertisement. Everyone was satis- 
 fied that I had made something, else how could I 
 come out as I was doing ? I felt a desire to recognise 
 no person on the street ; sometimes I would read a 
 letter as if on some serious business. The bait took. 
 It was not long till my new practice beat the old, 
 and a new class of patients patronised the gig who 
 did not before know the doctor. After giving the 
 gig a fair trial I meant to treat myself to a carriage 
 it would be more comfortable ; and since the public 
 has paid for the one it might also pay for the other." 
 The Doctor was right. He lived to get the carriage, 
 and with it his skill increased, so did his practice.
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEK. 179 
 
 I had many happy meetings with the doctor; our 
 intimacy lived till his death. One day while we 
 were looking up some features of society, I remarked 
 that he had fine opportunities of seeing the reality 
 of many men who had walked before the fashionable 
 world in a state of disguise; and I wished to be 
 informed as to the shape some of them might have 
 taken, and what the more honest maintained, that 
 is, where the ruling passion in life kept strong in 
 death or on the verge of it. He said that he had 
 witnessed many humbling sights, and seen cowards 
 who could not live bravely die meanly. No sermons 
 from the pulpit could reach the heart like those he 
 had listened to from some of his patients. The 
 most peculiar one he had met with was a shoemaker 
 who was stricken down with the cholera. His case 
 from the first seemed hopeless: he seemed predis- 
 posed to it ; seemed to have been ill-fed and ill-clad ; 
 had a miserable garret for his home down near to the 
 old abbey ; a tile roof was on the house, with a great 
 many of the tiles off, which allowed daylight to get 
 in and heated air to get out. " There the man lay 
 on a miserable bed," said the Doctor ; " you could see 
 his emaciated face as you went up the stair when 
 the door was open. From the first visit, I had no 
 hope ; he was severely racked with pain, and, at 
 intervals, belched and shouted in seeming despair, 
 ' Oh, Doctor, will I live till Thursday ?' There was an
 
 180 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 intensity in the request that touched me. Here was 
 a question seemingly put in agony and despair, and 
 seemingly more for others than himself. I thought 
 he might be a pensioner and had his papers to get 
 signed on that day, and his wife's interest might be 
 looked forward to. It was a question that I could 
 not answer. I said that I would come and see him 
 to-morrow, and would be better able to answer his 
 qiiestion then. 
 
 " It was on Monday I first saw him. I beckoned 
 his wife to follow me out, when I asked her as to 
 what concerned her husband so much about Thurs- 
 day ? Had he a pension, or was it something relative 
 to her that made him so uneasy ? She held down 
 her head, and I said it might be of consequence to his 
 life if I knew the state of his mind on that point : I 
 might be able to speak a word of comfort to him. 
 'Aweel, Doctor,' said she, 'since I must tell, it's 
 naething about me ; but it's a dog battle he has a 
 wager on, and he would like to live till Thursday to 
 ken which o' the dogs beats in the battle/ Well, 
 I was perplexed to know how to act, but, on the 
 spur of the moment, I went back. I had given him 
 some medicine and instructions, but I went back to 
 renew them, and said in as cheerful a manner as I 
 possibly could, 'Now, sir, if you pay attention to 
 what instructions I have given you, I have no doubt 
 but you will be living and well on Thursday.' As
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTER. 181 
 
 if he had got a reprieve from the gallows, he looked 
 in my face with his death-like visage, and said, ' Oh, 
 thank you, doctor.' There was a new gleam of life 
 in him. I could not think that he would "be in life 
 next morning, but being in the vicinity, I called. 
 He had rallied through the night, and was looking 
 lively, but I had not long left him when he got 
 hold of a jug of buttermilk ; and, being so pleased 
 with the cool current running down his throat, he 
 overdid the dose, and I was sent for in great haste. 
 He had been seized with violent spasms, and his 
 earnest cry of ' Oh, Doctor, will I live till Thursday?' 
 rose over his bodily pain. I really ill knew what to 
 say, but reproved him for being so thoughtless as to 
 hurt himself the way he had done. To live till 
 Thursday was all that he desired. I gave him 
 some soothing medicine, and said if he could only 
 lie quiet for a time to allow the medicine fair play, 
 I had no doubt even yet but he would see Thursday. 
 I said it as cheerfully as possible, for you have no 
 idea how people who are unwell watch how you say 
 a thing. In his weak way he said, ' Oh, thank you, 
 Doctor.' 
 
 " Next day I called he had got rest, was living, but 
 apparently sinking. On Thursday morning, between 
 nine and ten, I called, not expecting to see him in 
 life ; but then he had such a desire to see Thursday 
 that I could not resist going to learn the state of
 
 182 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 things. I went into the entry leading to his garret ; 
 there stood a man in earnest conversation with his 
 wife. The man had a pocket napkin on his mouth, 
 which he held on with his hand. I had set him 
 down as a friend getting some instructions as to the 
 funeral. However, the wife retired up the stair, and 
 I followed. When a little way up I saw the death- 
 like figure lying clapping his hands as well as he 
 could, as in the way of ruffing or giving applause ; 
 and, with all the breath he could muster, saying, 
 in low accents, ' Doctor, man ; Doctor, man, the 
 Lively Kid's dog has won.' I put all the pith I could 
 into a hearty ruff with both my hands, and said, 
 'Hurrah!' 
 
 " The dog he had wagered on was the victor. The 
 man I had mistaken for one getting orders for the 
 funeral was an acquaintance whom he had sent to 
 the Yoker to witness the fight, and who had run 
 with the pleasant tidings as to the victory before 
 death should remove the poor man from the earth. 
 The man really had something to live for, and was 
 honest enough to acknowledge it. He was the only 
 one of all the patients I attended at the public 
 expense who came and thanked me for attending 
 him. Apart from his interest in dog-fighting, he had 
 a fine appreciation of humanity, for he said, ' Doctor, 
 I could not begin to work till I came to thank you 
 for your attention to me when suffering sore disease ;
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 183 
 
 your kindly words cheered me as much as your 
 medicine.' " 
 
 The Doctor, who is now dead, had the thanks and 
 confidence of many patients during his practice.
 
 CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 THE PITH 0' PRAYER A BIT OF REFINED BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 A Clerical friend of mine, who has long left our 
 earth, was, when on it, a jolly, loveable man, 
 at peace with himself and the outer world. He saw 
 much to be thankful for, and little to grumble about. 
 He was one day describing to me his journey to the 
 pulpit. He had never known what it was to be 
 hard-up for anything money could purchase. He 
 had property left him by his father, and he had got a 
 good education. He opened a school at the age of 
 fifteen, and was successful in having a numerous 
 attendance; but, feeling the task a continued 
 drudgery, he turned his thoughts toward the pulpit, 
 and went at it. Having completed the necessary 
 studies, he applied for licence to preach; had it 
 granted him; and every step was an unopposed 
 success ; in fact, he sailed with a fair wind and 
 had the tide with him. Not being robust in health, 
 he always found himself better when at the coast. 
 Having taken all the steps belonging to the seen 
 and open manner of preparation, he thought that he 
 would pour out his spirit in prayer that a higher
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 185 
 
 Power might see his heart's desire and, if consistent, 
 grant a living by the sea-side. Strange to say, in a 
 few weeks a place at Irvine became vacant, and was 
 offered to him. He mentally accepted the post, and, 
 in harmony with his asking, went to his knees and 
 returned thanks. He rose to his feet refreshed, having 
 shown gratitude for the satisfactory answer to his 
 first prayer in this matter. 
 
 A few days passed, and then a second offer was 
 made to him of an inland place at least thirty miles 
 from the coast a moorland grazing district, with ten 
 pounds more of annual stipend. The devil or some 
 other power began to work, and his gratitude was 
 forgotten: a mechanical sort of mind fashed him. 
 Even the old teachings of the dominie haunted him, 
 and for a wee while he had a fashious time o't. 
 " Well," said I, " to mak' a lang story short, I would 
 like to ken how you came to decide, as in most cases 
 the class you belong to like to have it thought that 
 their position is the gift of a high source, such as 
 you petitioned for and was answered." " Well," said 
 he, " I'll tell you as far as I know myself. I first 
 asked the question of myself, ' Can this second place 
 be from the same source, seeing that I had asked, been 
 answered, and in purpose had accepted ?' 'Well,' said 
 I, ' it must be meant for a trial, and as such I will 
 test it.' I went to work this way: 'Thirty miles 
 from the coast ; only ten pounds a year more. What
 
 186 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 is ten pounds a year to me ? I have neither wife 
 nor family, and have money of my own apart from 
 stipend. It must be a device of Satan ! No, I'll not 
 think of it.' Well, when the idea of the ten pounds 
 was banished, I felt I was to have mental peace, but 
 up comes the spirit of the dominie with a strong plea 
 on his side, quoting compound addition and wishing 
 me to take the benefit of what I had taught others. 
 So up comes a cow before my sight ! ' Set that down,' 
 said he, 'as the first instalment for ten pounds.' 
 Next year another cow ! and the first one a calf ! ! 
 and so on till a whole herd of cattle stood before me 
 a herd such as any cattle dealer might have been 
 proud to have looked on. Still I felt that the dominie 
 had enlisted into the service of Satan, and both must 
 be put down. 
 
 " Well," said he, " I thought that I would apply 
 the spirit of prayer to put them to the rear. When 
 I was interceding that the herd of cows should be 
 banished from my mind as unworthy to dwell upon, 
 since I had already decided on a place suited to 
 my comfort, and accepted it as a Divine gift, Satan 
 seemed to stand by the cattle, making them look 
 larger than they had done : in fact, they seemed of 
 the best Ayrshire breed. I felt as if a want of 
 fervour was in my prayers, and that I was yielding 
 to the world and its ways. Thus self-reproved, I 
 added more fervour to my desires to go to the right
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 187 
 
 side, requesting Satan to get behind me, and the 
 cattle to go out of sight. I found that a mist was 
 beginning to grow or gather around the herd. It 
 was not of an Egyptian kind, or even a London fog, 
 for I could perceive the feeling of the forms long 
 after the substance had vanished ; and after the haze 
 had closed the bodies from view, some of their tails 
 were visible sticking out toward me for a long time. 
 I really began to feel ashamed of myself, and the 
 cows seemed to feel ashamed of me. They went as 
 I have told you, and never since have any of them 
 returned to trouble me. I consider that it was a 
 decided victory of mind over matter."
 
 CHAPTEE XXVI. 
 
 AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER, 
 
 THOMAS BARKER was a brickmaker on the 
 south side of the Clyde. He was a regular 
 brick, and although he could not hear well what was 
 going on in the outside world, he could express his 
 thoughts on any subject he happened to look at in 
 honest style. He was a middle-sized, firm old man ; 
 carried his head well up; had finely-arranged fea- 
 tures: clear light-blue eyes, aquiline nose, a model 
 mouth, out of which many a stern sentence came. 
 His long snow-white hair flowed gracefully over his 
 square shoulders, giving him a patriarchal appearance. 
 He read much, and decided for himself only in such 
 a way as deaf persons will: they in general think 
 that the outside world is on their side. I called on 
 him one day, and inquired in his ear what he had 
 been reading since I had seen him last ? " Ou, aye, 
 man ; I ha'e been readin' ' Uncle Tarn ;' yon's a con- 
 founded blether! They say that a' yon nonsense 
 was written by a woman. Teugh ! what woman 
 wad be sneakin' through public-houses, glowrin' into 
 spitboxes amang tobacco slavers and auld chaws?
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 189 
 
 No, no ; yon nonsense 'ill no do. Yon Uncle Tarn 
 is no a man ava: he's a perfect miscarriage a 
 eunuch. They try to mak' him a sort o' black 
 Christ. He lies doon like a dog to be kicket, and 
 he deserves a' he gets. There's nae soul in him; 
 and yon auld Legree is a perfect manufactory o' 
 nonsense a bundle o' blackguards rowed up into 
 ane. He's an ill-built, unreasonable monster, without 
 meaning. No, no ; yon nonsense 'ill no do. For my 
 part, I think that it's written by some crazy clergy- 
 man wha has gotten that hizzy Stowe, out o' her 
 vanity, to be a mither to his balderdash." 
 
 " Did you ever read Milton ?" he inquired. I 
 shook my head and said " No ; I dinna like fechtin'." 
 " No, nor me," quo' he ; " yon's anither confounded 
 blether a sort o' prize-ring affair atween the deevil 
 and the Almighty. Yon's what I ca' blasphemy; 
 and there are times durin' the different rounds that 
 you will really think that the deevil had the upper 
 han' wi' Him, There's o'er muckle o' the auld sojer 
 in yon deevil an ill-shapet, ungratefu', impertinent 
 blackguard. I ha'e nae broo o' onybody wastin' their 
 time either writin' or readin' sic trash as yon. Man, 
 I wadna ha'e stood the impudence o' yon deevil for 
 half an hour I wad ha'e thrawn the neck o' him." 
 (Bravo! Tammas.) 
 
 "Just observe what a different sort o' a deevil 
 Burns busket up out o' the nonsense which the clergy
 
 190 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 o' his time had attempted to frighten auld wives and 
 weans wi'. Every sort o' superstition was bundled 
 into his carcase, and a pair o' bagpipes stappet into 
 his oxter to divert a wheen ghaists o' dancers. Our 
 great forebears seem'd to worship the deevil mair 
 than the Almighty. Burns gars auld Moodie frae 
 Eiccarton speel the holy door wi' tidings o' damna- 
 tion. Brimstone and butter was at that time the 
 great medium for curin' the scaw. Burns's deevil 
 was sae weel busket that he owned he was fear'd for 
 him whiles himsel' ; and was it no great genius in 
 Burns to gather up a' the nonsense the clergy o' that 
 time used, and set them a' dancin' to the deevil's 
 music, an' blaw them a' to dog-dirt at the dead hour 
 o' nicht, sae as they ha'e been a laughin'-stock to 
 common sense folk ever since ? and to think that the 
 means he used to the end was the applause o' a man 
 gaun hame wi' o'er muckle drink in the carcase o' 
 him. Burns ken'd how to preach the Gospel, and 
 he let some o' the blackgown brethren see how to 
 gang aboot it. We ha'e o'er muckle faith in non- 
 sense, baith at hame and abroad, even yet. Facts 
 are o'er simple for some folk, else that hizzy Stowe 
 wad never ha'e thocht o' writin' sic balderdash as 
 'Uncle Tarn' for them to swallow. Man, we ha'e 
 missionaries awa' abroad wha send hame great belches 
 o' nonsense. They'll send hame an auld prayer, and 
 tell us that it has come through the mouth o' some
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEE. 191 
 
 young black ! and they mak' a splore that -sae mony 
 are prayin', and sae mony doin' something else, and 
 insist on gettin' bawbees to help them to carry on sic 
 capers; whereas if they were to teach them to do 
 their ain wark, I wad ha'e some hope o' them then ; 
 but as lang as they only repeat rhymes and get ither 
 folk to do their wark for them, they're no worth as 
 mony swine. Till they are taught to burn bricks 
 and big them, I ha'e nae hope o' them ; and I wad 
 despise onybody wha tries to lead them astray. A 
 man, whether black or white, is meant for far higher 
 purposes than to repeat auld rhymes and get a carry 
 on his neighbour's back!" "What pleased me with 
 the old man was, that he offered his own trade to the 
 blacks as a first step in civilization. 
 
 "D'ye ken our minister? He's a queer body. 
 He's fu' o' conceit, aye doin' guid, and terrible greedy : 
 there's nae end to his beggin'. He ca'd on me a while 
 back, telt me o' a mighty heap o' gude he had done, 
 and the wonnerfu' gude he was gaun to do, and a' for 
 ither folk ; and that it required a great amount o' 
 siller to do what he had planned. I gied him fifty 
 pounds. Whether he did gude wi't or no, I kenna ; 
 but there was some rippet held about the way he 
 had applied the bawbees: some said that he had 
 voted an addition to his stipend ! Be that as it may, 
 it wasna lang till he was back here for mair siller. 
 I could see the beggar in the face o' him when he
 
 192 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 cam' in ! I'm gey deaf for ordinar', but feth, I AVUS 
 determined to be waur that day: I could hear 
 naething, sae I sat and glowr'd. He was sittin' ower 
 there, just whaur ye are, and the body began to 
 blether about what he had done and what he was 
 gaun to do, just as usual ; and, as usual, siller was 
 wanted, but I never let on that I had heard a word 
 o' a' his crack The body had wrought himsel' up to 
 the sweatin' point: the beads were standin' on his 
 brow. Thinks I, ' I'll put the veto on you now ;' so 
 I held my han' up to my lug (this way), and, in ane 
 o' my wildest kind of ways o' inquiry, shouted at 
 him, ' Hoo's the kirk gettiu' on ?' That fairly non- 
 plussed him. There was naething left for him but 
 to come o'er to me and roar into my lug, like a sweep 
 roarin' doon a chimney-can, ' The kirk's just burs tin' 
 wi' communicants.' I looked up in his face, and 
 exclaimed, ' Oh, man, that's grand !' Then he roared 
 doon that he wanted ither fifty pounds. My feth, 
 I sat back frae him then. 'What, sir,' said I; 
 ' burstin' and beggin' ! the thing's no consistent. 
 Na, na ; milk them as tightly as ye ha'e done me ; 
 and should they let doon their milk as freely, ye'll 
 ha'e nae cause to grumble ; and after ye ha'e done a* 
 the gude ye can wi' what ye get, then come to me, 
 but no till then.' My answer rather took the conceit 
 out o' the body. It was short and pithy, and to the 
 point; and there was nae gaun aboot the bush wi' 

 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 193 
 
 him. But oh, man, he's a vain creature. He writes 
 books, and gi'es some o' them fleyeome names : ' Al- 
 ladin and his Lamp,' and sic-like nonsense he ca's 
 them. His books, like his talk, gang for naething. 
 Wi' either black or white folk, ower muckle talk and 
 readin' lead to beggary. It's to be 'doers o' the 
 Word' that's our mission." 
 
 Thomas Barker is at rest, but has left a voice 
 behind him.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE PKESENTATION. 
 
 ANY simpleton who thinks that refined society is 
 like gold tried in the fire, has not the means 
 of applying the proper tests so as to ascertain the 
 difference between pretence and reality. I have 
 tasted of real friendship, and know that such a thing 
 exists. I have seen the outward forms of it, and 
 listened to the hidden malice of the seeming friend. 
 Once upon a time, in the reign of King William IV., 
 a certain clergyman went out and in before his flock 
 seemingly with great acceptance. He was a single- 
 hearted man; took every person at the price he 
 offered himself; was intimate with many families of 
 his flock ; felt that he was a power, and was aware 
 that his flock thought so too. Here was his mistake. 
 His stipend seemed inadequate to his labour in the 
 eyes of some, who yet could tell how often he had 
 preached the same sermon to them, and how often 
 he had changed pulpits with a useless neighbour ; 
 and indeed it seemed us if they had gi'en him muckle 
 for little. Yet at the same time some ladies in the 
 congregation were set on by others to open a sub-
 
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEK. 195 
 
 scription for a presentation, so that a little token of 
 esteem might be given to the dear young man for his 
 spiritual wrestlings for their welfare. Ladies have 
 one quality : whether for or against, they are single- 
 hearted. As to loving and hating, they are honest in 
 both. Being creatures of feeling, reason does not ask 
 their aid. 
 
 There are many kinds of scoundrels in the world, 
 but a scoundrel veneered with church cant is about 
 the lowest of the reptile race. I was in a house one 
 day when a deputation in the shape of two young 
 ladies called for a subscription in aid of the testi- 
 monial to this same deserving clergyman. They were 
 received with open arms by the lady of the house, 
 and applauded for thus having put their hand to the 
 plough. Many Gospel phrases were used to cheer 
 them on in the task so generously undertaken and so 
 deservedly bestowed in return for the love and labour 
 shown to the church in all her branches ! Blessings 
 must be in store for the young ladies, and nothing 
 short of staying to dinner would be listened to. The 
 lady began to take off their mantles almost by force. 
 The young ladies, full of their duty, said No and 
 meant it. They had laid out their path, and had so 
 many places to visit, and only a set time to do it. 
 Then they must come into the drawing-room, and 
 rest a few minutes. No apology would be taken to 
 this, and no objections were offered. The lady's
 
 196 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 husband was not in the house up to this time. He 
 came in by a back way while his wife convoyed the 
 young ladies out at the front, gathering flowers for 
 them as she went, shaking hands at parting, and 
 sending compliments to papa and mamma, and every 
 other member of the family, as members of the same 
 church. 
 
 It appeared to me like sunshine. Heat and light 
 and growth seemed to have sprung from the scene 
 I had just witnessed. "This is civilisation," said 
 I to myself, "in its highest culture." I really felt 
 new life, and could have desired to be a member 
 of such a church. Sinners seemed to me a gross 
 term for such angelic beings. I was on terms of 
 intimacy with the clergyman, and knew how single- 
 hearted he was looking on the affair. To be the 
 recipient of so much kindness was something worth 
 looking forward to. Some may think that he, simple 
 man, did'nt know of such a thing going on. 0, fie ! 
 but he did, and could advise and even direct the 
 path of some of the canvassers. Be that as it may, 
 he was not expected to know, and seemed as one 
 sitting in darkness. Well, the lady who convoyed 
 the two canvassers out at the front, loading them 
 with flowers, compliments, and pure desires in behalf 
 of the undertaking, came into her own house, and, 
 in presence of her husband and myself, put on a 
 new shape, somewhat like a theatrical heroine. She
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 197 
 
 addressed her husband in a sharp, dissatisfied voice 
 and air: "I had the Bath Street beggars here just 
 now." "And what were they wanting?" "Oh, 
 money to get silver plate for that silly creature." 
 " And did you give them any ?" " Yes, I gave them 
 two pounds one for you and one for myself." 
 " That was right." " I don't think it." " Then why 
 did you do it ?" " I couldn't help myself; you know 
 as well as I do that he is looking after your cousin, 
 and there is scarce a day in the week but what he 
 calls here and gets his glass of wine ; and when he 
 was talking in confidence with your cousin about 
 this affair, he said to her what he thought every one 
 would give, and he had us set down at two pounds." 
 " You might have disappointed him ; you had the 
 hasp in your own hand ; but since you have given, 
 don't look after it," quoth the sensible husband. 
 " Aweel, I canna say but that I grudge it right sore. 
 I declare it's a great shame the way that a wheen o' 
 they trash o' ministers come before their flock like 
 common beggars. I think if they had the feelings of 
 men they would despise such conduct. If our poor 
 man thinks that it is from love to him that this presen- 
 tation is to be made, he is far mistaken. It is a deep- 
 laid plot to gratify the vanity of the speech-making 
 tribe, and get their flattery and frailty published 
 through the papers, and make it appear that we ha'e 
 such a star in our parish that some other parish will
 
 198 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEK. 
 
 be moved to envy us our treasure and try to get 
 him away the first opening. I do think," said she, 
 " that is the foundation of the whole farce ; and that 
 they have enlisted the services of the ladies to make 
 the affair more showy. However, turn out as it may, 
 the beggars are away with two glasses of brandy in 
 them. That will keep up the steam till they gang to 
 the next house." 
 
 I was to dine with this lady and her husband 
 that day, but after hearing the nature of the speeches, 
 I would rather have been excused. I ventured to 
 make a remark, that the ladies would be fou wi' the 
 twa glass o' brandy. "Them fou; you don't know 
 them. I have known them have eleven glass of one 
 kind of drink and another in them from the time 
 they went out in the morning till they returned, in 
 calling hours, forby what they might have taken 
 before they went out or after they came home." I 
 inquired how she knew this ? " Well," said she, 
 " we know where they start in the morning, and can 
 follow them ; and we tell each other what we gave 
 them." Think of that, ye Sisters of Charity ! " Their 
 noses are getting like roses: they are quite trans- 
 parent. The like of you who knows colour might 
 have seen that much. Their eyes are staring in their 
 head ; drink tightens up the nerves about the eyes, 
 and they don't wink so soft. I declare I could bite 
 my fingers when I think that I have given away
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 199 
 
 two pounds and two glass of brandy to a parcel o' 
 dirt" 
 
 Time passed, and I had a conversation with the 
 same lady years after. She was then a widow. She 
 wept sore, and told me how the Bath Street beggars 
 had been speaking lightly of her, and among other 
 things saying that she was given to drink, and by 
 thus vilifying her reputation destroying her chance 
 of a second husband, I tried to comfort her, saying 
 that she had done the same to them before destroy- 
 ing as far as she could the chance of their having a 
 first. She seemed not to see it, but said she only 
 spoke the truth. Burns's twa dogs saw the truth in 
 their day 
 
 " The ladles arm-in-arm in clusters, 
 As great and gracious a' as sisters ; 
 But hear their absent thoughts o' ither : 
 They're a' run de'ils and jads thegither."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 FAMILY WORSHIP IN FORMER DAYS. 
 
 T1AMILY "Worship is now nearly done away with. 
 J. Meal-hours in the morning seem too short for 
 such service. Labour absorbs the whole man and 
 his family. They do not come all in at one moment, 
 and each must be attended to. The history of to-day 
 occupies the thoughts of the evening. Life is less 
 made up of forms now than of yore, and is more a 
 bundle of commercial facts that man must face. 
 
 Among a past people the forms of family worship 
 held a place with power, for if not regularly attended 
 to, a judgment was sure to befall the household. I 
 once heard a clergyman say from the pulpit that 
 family worship must once have been looked upon in 
 a more serious sense than some people looked on it 
 now, when we heard a prophet exclaiming thus : 
 " Pour out Thy fury on the heathen who know Thee 
 not, and on the families of those who call not on Thy 
 name." 
 
 Neighbours used to watch each other at family 
 worship, and laugh among themselves at the weak- 
 ness of each other's way of expressing themselves in
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER, 201 
 
 prayer. Singing and reading were matters of criti- 
 cism even amang the "unco gude." The spirit of 
 envy and rivalry was mixed up with their best 
 thoughts. Individuality always seemed to me the 
 standard of society; unity or co-operation always 
 meant a field for fraud. Such a definition may be 
 gross and out of the pale of a big heart ; but narrow 
 and deceitful as mine seems to be, it beats to the 
 tune of " watch the thief." 
 
 I remember well that, sixty years back, every 
 family in the district where I lived made family 
 worship, as they called it ; or, as it was sometimes 
 termed, " taking the books." Morning and evening, 
 if any one were to call at a neighbour's door during 
 the time of prayer, by listening he could soon tell 
 when it would be over by the part of the prayer the 
 old man was at. Neighbours used even to visit each 
 other at worship ; it was a great thing to hear a gifted 
 man at prayer. The last time I was invited to hear 
 one of first-class power was by the wife and daughter 
 of a man who used to fight "light-weight" in the 
 prize-ring in London. At this time he was suffering 
 from a blow he had received in the region of the 
 liver, which blow carried him to his grave. It was 
 amusing to hear him on the sly describing the dif- 
 ferent encounters he had been an actor in, and the 
 extraordinary success attending on his manner of 
 guarding himself and planting the breath- exhausting
 
 202 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 blows on his adversary; and then to listen to his 
 wife and daughters desire that I should hear him 
 pour out his soul in prayer. He was a lively sinner, 
 full of perfection and kindliness, well acquaint with 
 law, and was the terror of a poverty-stricken district 
 in Glasgow where he acted as house-factor. 
 
 When I was a callant I was addressed by an auld 
 woman whose husband made family worship regularly, 
 and she, decent auld body, used to whip the psalm 
 out of his mouth and lead in a fine shrill style. She 
 told me in confidence one day that it was to spite 
 that nasty auld baingle wha lived in the ither end. 
 This opposite neighbour was from home all week, 
 and at home only from Saturday night till Monday 
 morning. " If thou listen," she said, " on the Lord's 
 morning, thou'll hear the nasty body singing awa' at 
 ' WalsalL' The silly body's wife was tellin' Nannie 
 Grey that OUT auld John cou'dna touch at that, so 
 thou observes when I tak' the lead that his auld wife 
 is never heard. He's a sweet singer, the nasty auld 
 toad himsel', but atweel that's a' he can do ; he can 
 neither read the chapter nor pray like our auld John. 
 He sae mumbles awa' to himsel', baith readin' and 
 prayin', that naebody kens what he wad be at. Our 
 John sings 'Bangor,' and Trench/ and 'Stroud water,' 
 and keeps time weel enough; and then he has a 
 prayer for the Lord's mornin', and anither for week- 
 days ; whereas him but the house has just ae rhyme,
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 203 
 
 and though ye were hearkenin' at the door, feint a 
 word o' sense ye can mak' o't. "We'll assemble our 
 family on a Sabbath mornin', and you can see how 
 they manage the thing for themselves." 
 
 It is Sunday morning; nine by the clock. The 
 parritch has been made, and we have a' had ours 
 but a wee lassie wha canna sup hers het. Persons 
 present : the auld man and his wife ; a full-grown 
 son, half-a-hundred years auld; three full-fledged 
 daughters ; an apprentice ; a cat ; a starling, and two 
 jackdaws. A circle is formed round the fire, and 
 everything is orderly and composed. The kettle is 
 on the fire, and some finely-sliced beef ham in the 
 toaster, ready for putting before it. A psalm is 
 selected, and "Let us worship God" is pronounced 
 with a fine tremulous fulness of voice. The psalm is 
 read, the lines being given out in pairs; the auld 
 wife takes the lead, and all sing in their own way. 
 The auld wife sometimes comments on my singing : 
 "Gude keep us, callant, but thou's timmer-tuned." 
 Whenever the singing began the starling began his 
 rhymes; the jackdaws hoppet through the house, 
 shouting " Caw, caw." The starling, in self-adulation, 
 shouting " Pretty cock Eichard ; a coach-and-six for 
 pretty cock Eichard!" "Eichard's sick; call the 
 doctor." " Mistress, take a chair ; sit down." Then 
 he would whistle " The Laird o' Cockpen," or " The 
 Quaker's Wife." The psalm-singing is ended, and a
 
 204 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 chapter read. The auld man plodded straight through 
 the Book, a drone or drawl being applied to the read- 
 ing such as is heard at no other reading something 
 like a weary sang of some person half-asleep. The 
 auld wife has been attending to the breakfast arrange- 
 ments so earnestly that the kettle is at the boil and 
 the tea masket as the leading of the chapter is ended. 
 There is generally a splutter for help by the old 
 woman a shout of scalding or burning, which some- 
 times disorganises the harmony ; two or three persons 
 may jump np to the rescue at the same moment. 
 The prayer begun, the young lassie is set down to 
 sup her parritch at the head of auld granny ; a stool 
 forms her table, and you hear grannie's whisper above 
 the sombre-going prayer telling the child how to use 
 the spoon so as not to dribble. The ham has been 
 put before the fire when the prayer began, and granny 
 watches like a faithful cook that it may not be burnt 
 nor scouthered ower muckle in one place to the 
 neglect of another. Thus she keeps lifting bit after 
 bit, and changing places in the toaster; and every 
 bit is lifted between the forefinger and thumb, and 
 every time the finger and thumb are cleaned by being 
 kindly sucked in her mouth, and the smack of satis- 
 faction is heard like seasoning to the prayer. Then 
 you hear granny at intervals telling the lassie that 
 she has ower mony parritch, and to gi'e her twa 
 gaups. The wean feeds her like a young sparrow,
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTEK. 205 
 
 and the parritcli is taken into stock by granny with 
 such willingness as astonishes the child, and her 
 laughter rises above the prayer. She races across the 
 kitchen floor, and mounts her uncle's back horse 
 fashion. He says " Chick, chick," and gives her a 
 gallop to her joyous satisfaction, while the three 
 .aunts are each heard whispering, " Nannie, Nannie, 
 come to me, and I'll be your horsy-porsy." John is 
 still going on the even tenor of his prayer ; but there 
 is a period when patience ceases, and he half rises to 
 reprove the conduct of his co-worshippers in this 
 mild but emphatic manner : " Wa', damn you ; wull 
 you no mak' less noise ; it's deevilish to think that 
 a body canna get sayin' their prayers for you." 
 Having thus exhorted them, he kneels as before, and 
 reaches "Amen." Thus worship ended. 
 
 The breakfast over, preparation is made for church. 
 It is getting near the Sacrament, and a full attendance 
 is looked for. The apprentice is to watch the bees, as it 
 is warm weather in the third week of June ; and should 
 the bees swarm, the callant is to run to the kirk and let 
 his auld master know. The preliminaries for letting 
 him know not being arranged, the callant was left to 
 himself. The bees did hive, and the 'prentice was 
 not long till he was in the kirk, and shouted, " John, 
 the bees are castin'." John made for his feet, and 
 waved the callant to go away, but the boy insisted, 
 " As sure as death they're castin' !' Such scenes
 
 206 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 were nothing uncommon. Bees at that time were a 
 stock for many a poor man, and had to be attended 
 to. Bees are a curious community : they take notions 
 at times to flit or run away ; and the girdle used to 
 be beat with a stick as a charm to induce them to 
 settle. By the time John arrived in company of a 
 neighbour, I was beating the girdle quite jolly, making 
 as much noise as some kirk bells. 
 
 This is a photograph from pictures of the past, 
 when forms pleased the folk.
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 A LITERARY ASPIRANT. 
 
 JAMES HANSON", late editor of the Glasgow 
 Herald, had his own difficulty while ascending 
 the steep to his literary life. I had known him to 
 look at for twenty years. He did not know me. We 
 met one night in the house of Mr D. G. Howat, while 
 he was residing at Milngavie. Mr Manson and I 
 were each introduced by our names ; and it was near 
 to midnight before he discovered that I was Hunter, 
 the artist, though I knew him to be Manson of the 
 Herald. "We were both from Ayrshire he from 
 Kilwinning ; I from Symington. Something by way 
 of a speech, toast, or sentiment, was asked of Mr 
 Manson, who said that it appeared something strange 
 even to himself that he " should have been for the 
 last twenty years quite conversant with the life and 
 character of Mr Hunter as a man, an artist, and an 
 author, and that I see him for the first time in the 
 flesh to-night in Milngavie." So he proposed Mr 
 Hunter's health, coupled with the fine arts. I made 
 reply, simple yet true, to the effect that my connec- 
 tion with art had been to me a blessing in youth,
 
 208 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 keeping me out of company and free from lower 
 pursuits producing in early life a home feeling and 
 a world of joy even in a garret ; and yet the sweet 
 deception was daily present with me that greatness 
 was yet to be achieved, and that happiness was 
 a daily fruit springing from labour. Contentment 
 seemed part of my system ; I had never looked for 
 money wealth. Had that been my aim, my hopes 
 might have stood rival with the potato blight. I had 
 made the acquaintance and friendship of many good 
 men a something I had sense to value and keep ; 
 and, making use of an old Ayrshire phrase, " I had 
 never come far out of the chesset I was staned in." 
 I had always looked on the cobbling as the foundation 
 of my independence. I had been often beat in 
 attempting to live by art, but the cobbling never 
 failed me. Many a man and woman I had set on a 
 steady footing in the world. Almost every patron 
 in the shoe trade had two feet, but in art only one 
 head. Thus the feet gave two chances to one, and 
 necessity was on my side in the lower stratum ; while 
 often in the lofty walk, means as well as taste were 
 at a discount. I had lived for others more than 
 myself, and found that self-denial and perseverance 
 was a fortune I had enjoyed to a greater extent 
 among daily struggles than it was in the power of 
 money to purchase. I had always kept the shoe- 
 maker's stool below the bed, and, when beat off,
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 209 
 
 would get a hold of it by the head and draw it into 
 light like a badger, singing 
 
 " Is there for honest poverty 
 Wha hangs the head and a' that ?" 
 
 The son! of Burns stood by me in the hours, days, 
 and nights of labour; and, like him, I had been ere 
 then obliged to exclaim, " Lord help me ; I am now 
 obliged -to join night to day, and Sunday to the 
 week." I had thus, so far as I could, united myself 
 to, or rather developed myself in concert with, the 
 toast. 
 
 Mr Hanson rose, while the tears were trickling 
 down his cheeks. He said that I had touched a 
 chord in his heart with the simple, honest utterance 
 of points in my past life, and that unless he spoke 
 he would burst. I had made his early life flash up 
 before him, and he said that spoken biography had 
 for him always a charm superior to written records, 
 however well these might be done. He had read 
 much of Mr Hunter's writings; he liked them, but 
 his speaking he liked better. 
 
 Mr Manson said : " My father was a country tailor ; 
 I was the oldest of his family, and used to whip-the- 
 cat with him till I was fourteen. I had a strong 
 desire as a boy to come before the world as a clergy- 
 man. My mind was made up for it. Every spare 
 copper was laid aside to aid in the expense of paving 
 the way through the college. My father and I 
 p
 
 210 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 started from Kilwinning one winter morning early 
 on foot for Glasgow, with near to a thirty mile walk 
 before us. It required health and heart for such a 
 task, which we accomplished before the lamps were 
 lighted. Having secured lodgings, we were early to 
 bed that night, and early up next morning. My 
 father saw me fairly installed for a season in the 
 College. All charges were met and settled, and I, a 
 single-hearted enthusiast, entered on my various tasks 
 in preparation for coming greatness. My father re- 
 turned to his use-and-wont next day ; and for three 
 months I felt myself on the fair road to popularity 
 in pulpit oratory. 
 
 " One morning a letter came to me from my father, 
 making plain statements anent some family matters, 
 which here need not be described ; but his letter 
 ended by intimating that without my help his 
 hopes in the world would in the meantime be 
 blighted. So were mine; for although I were to 
 finish that session, I saw no way of beginning the 
 next. My father's comfort was my first thought, and 
 that night saw my property bundled and dispatched 
 with the carrier ; and ere the sun rose next morning 
 I was a long way on the road to my father, with a 
 different spirit within me from what animated the 
 prodigal son. He met me as a fond father, and I 
 hailed him cheerfully as a dutiful son. I remained 
 with him till I was nineteen; his interest was my
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 211 
 
 chief study. I could easily see that by staying 
 longer my hopes might he blighted, but my father's 
 prospects could not be easily bettered. I had made 
 other calculations, and one day laid my schemes 
 before him, the sum of them being that by my going 
 to Glasgow I might better myself, and by that means 
 be able to benefit him. He, like a sensible man, 
 acquiesced ; so to Glasgow I came, set up house in 
 Eglinton Street, and ere long had all the Mansons 
 along with me. When my father knew how much 
 rent I had undertaken to pay to make him and his 
 better, his heart sank within him. He said that we 
 never could meet it and live. Yet we did. Our 
 first year did well ; ,the second did better, and at the 
 end of it I found myself worth two hundred pounds. 
 Everything seemed prosperous with me. I had 
 formed, and was still forming, a wide acquaintance. 
 But, from what cause I need not tell you, all of a 
 sudden that capital was gone and as much more, and 
 ten pounds required for present use. Here was a 
 business to look in the face. All fiction had fled, 
 and I had nothing but the fact to contemplate. 
 What was to be done ? Whichever way I turned, 
 black despair confronted me ; desperation seemed to 
 take hold of me. I had, like you, written articles for 
 a journal in town, but with the distinct understanding 
 that I was to have no money reward ; it was for self- 
 gratification. I had written for years, and was on
 
 212 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 terms of personal friendship with the parties ; and to 
 them in my despair I ran. And what I said, I know 
 not. Whether I had asked ten pounds as a gift, as a 
 loan, or to account, I know not. All I remember 
 now was a placid sort of smile which played in my 
 face from one who I thought would have helped 
 me at the moment in any of the foregoing shapes, 
 particularly as it was in his power to do so. That 
 smile was followed by a remark pregnant with infor- 
 mation, reminding me that it was only to gratify 
 myself that my writings had a place in the paper, 
 and that money was out of the question. At this 
 moment a wandering came over my brain, and I 
 could have wished that the floor on which I stood 
 had opened and made a clean swallow of me. Just 
 then a little girl, who had followed me from home, 
 pulled me by the arm and said that a gentleman who 
 was in the Black Bull Inn wished to see me. I came 
 with her to the door ; I said, ' Why did you not speak 
 to me before I went in there ?' She said, ' You ran 
 so fast, I couldna catch you.' I had been running, 
 and did not know of it ! 
 
 "When I came out, a cab was at the door. I 
 stepped into it, and bade the driver take me to the 
 Black Bull, for which help I paid the last shilling I 
 had in the world. In a few minutes I stood in the 
 presence of a stranger, whose business-like manner at 
 once soothed me under the baneful influence of that
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 213 
 
 white smile, that uncalled-for information, the sight 
 and shock of which have never left me. The stranger 
 said, 'Mr Manson, I presume?' 'The same.' 'My 
 business with you, sir, is to make you an offer of the 
 sub-editorship of the Glasgow Herald, and I am sorry 
 to say the salary for which is only eighty pounds a 
 year.' ' I accept your offer, sir.' ' But, Mr Manson, 
 I am also sorry that your religious and political 
 opinions are scarcely of the quality that will suit us.' 
 ' Pity me not, sir. As to my religious opinions, you 
 have nothing to do with them : they are my own, 
 and have no business with your paper, nor it with 
 them' [" I am Unitarian," said he] ; ' and as for 
 politics, tell me what you want written, sir, and I'll 
 do it. I offer my services to write to you for the 
 eighty pounds.' 'Done,' said he. Gentlemen, that 
 was my start in literary life ; and now I may tell 
 you that I am responsible for whatever passes through 
 the pages of the Herald, and I need not add that I 
 have more than eighty pounds by the year for my 
 services." 
 
 It was a bonnie bit of biography, spoken with a 
 feeling which cannot be written. Small as it is, it is 
 interesting to see and hear how the first steps of a 
 clever man and a respectable poet were forced on 
 him, and how he behaved himself while on the road 
 to the editorial chair.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 JOHN TAYLOR: HOW HE BECAME AN ARTIST. 
 
 TOHN TAYLOR was a cabinetmaker in Glasgow 
 t) when I knew him first. He was delicate in- 
 health, was weak in the lungs, and at times like to 
 be strangled with asthma. He occupied a room and 
 kitchen in South Coburg Street, Glasgow. There he 
 was laid down on his bed, and no acquaintance who 
 then saw him ever thought he would rise again in 
 health from that place. He had taken lessons in 
 drawing when a young man. He had now a wife 
 and three children. One day a sunbeam played in 
 at his window; his wife sat on the floor paring 
 potatoes for dinner, a crock and pot beside her, with 
 the three children, and a black kitten, which was 
 sporting with a potato, chasing it round the crock 
 and pawing it in innocent glee. This group caught 
 the sick man's eye, and he said to himself, " That's a 
 picture ; were I an artist I would paint that." He 
 began within himself to run the lines in his mind, 
 and found that he had the whole power within him, 
 if not to paint it, at least to show others how to do it. 
 He made an effort to rise, did rise, took a drawing
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER, 215 
 
 on paper, and in a few days had a school announced 
 at " 10 South Coburg Street, one stair up." Drawing 
 from models was a feature of his school, and this 
 picture looked out of a stationer's window in Bridge 
 Street. New life had now taken root in the fine art 
 teacher. Many a visit I had from him in his proba- 
 tionary attempts. He had rapid and original views 
 of every thing, never hung a moment in doubt, but 
 decided like a man. I never failed to wish him joy, 
 if not his then, yet at some day not far off. He 
 visited Ayrshire as a portrait painter in crayon and 
 oil, and painted some excellent likenesses. He took 
 a flat of a house at the Cross of Kilmarnock, where 
 he opened a school He was a single-hearted man ; 
 made poetry on his patrons, all in their praise : 
 every person was worthy in his eyes who had be- 
 friended him. If he never rose high as an artist, he 
 dignified his humanity. 
 
 One night in Glasgow he and I were passing the 
 door of a butcher's shop. The butcher's wife was 
 sitting pensively, as if thinking up some problem. 
 He stopped,, looked at her, then at me. " Man," says 
 he, "there's a beautiful study. I like to look at 
 that woman: that was my first art patron. I was 
 passing the shop one night as we are doing now ; I 
 could not resist stepping in and saying, 'Madam, 
 I would like to take your likeness.' She looked 
 pleased, but said in a kindly tone of voice that she
 
 216 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 could not afford it. I said that I would not be ill to 
 pay : beef and bone to the amount of seven-and-six- 
 pence would be all I would ask. She kindly said 
 that she could not withstand that. Her portrait got 
 a great many more. I always like to look at her as 
 I pass, and I never see her but she is in a comely 
 attitude." 
 
 Some say that knowledge is power, but a proper 
 appreciation of it is more powerful.
 
 CHAPTEE XXXI. 
 
 AX AUTISTIC DEVELOPMENT. 
 
 FEW men in Kilmarnock ever planted a more 
 manly form on the plainstones, or took a stand 
 in the Cross with more theatrical majesty, than my 
 auld friend wha rejoiced in the trade of a tailor, the 
 mysteries of which trade he could illustrate in positiA*e 
 and negative pictorial beauty. He was outspoken 
 and figurative in his language, could speak fluently 
 on art, and was, in plain terms, a universal genius. 
 He could claim kin with Macready the actor, and 
 bore his name. 
 
 To attempt a description from the outside of his 
 character, were weak ; to let him speak for himself, 
 makes him easier understood. Yet how tame is a 
 printed statement compared with his personal utter- 
 ance ! His style was artistic and theatrically grand. 
 Some detractors said that he always spoke of himself ; 
 what of that ? He knew who he was speaking about ; 
 and the beauties of his art required the blunders of 
 some less skilled brother to take the place of shadows 
 to his lights. His brilliant parts darkened no one ; 
 their shadows did not illuminate him, yet his theories 
 required such things to give pictorial beauty to his
 
 218 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 illustrations. Vivid and decided were his forms, 
 lively and rapid his utterance, oratorical and 
 pointed his attitudes. His whole man was engaged 
 in his work. His images of speech took hold of the 
 hearer, and are as well imprinted now as they were 
 when uttered near to fifty years ago. I was held as 
 no artist by him, but simply a tarnation sweep- 
 maker! one whose portraits seemed to have been 
 handed down the lum to their place on the walls of 
 whatever house might possess so much bad taste as 
 take them in as caricatures. When wishing, at the 
 same time, to enlist my opinion, he would say : 
 "Man, Hunter, you put the most of the tailors in 
 Kilmarnock to the blush in drawing out the lines of 
 a coat ; you can give a sweep to the collar that they 
 all seem strangers to. Now I'm going to refer a 
 case to you: Our "Willie says to me the other day, 
 ' Father, you should never speak of art,, for you know 
 nothing about it.' ' Don't I ?' said I ; and I put it 
 this way to him : ' Suppose the Independent coach 
 were passing my door at a gallop, and I were to 
 throw up the window and thrust out my head ; and 
 there, sitting beside the driver, was a young buck with 
 a coat on smoking hot from Scott's shop in Paris. 
 Well, I run my eyes round the lines of the collar, 
 take a gleam at the whole bearing of the garment, 
 withdraw my head, take a bit of chalk, and on the 
 board or the wall run the lines, and there they are
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 219 
 
 fixed till the first man of taste comes in with a suit 
 to make. Then I run the chalk on his cloth, put the 
 shears into it, and throw it to the men. Heavens ! 
 how they gaze ! each more astonished than the other/ 
 ' And where did you get that ?' they exclaim. Says 
 I, ' Do you think that it would fall from the moon ? 
 for I got it flying through the air.' Now, I would 
 simply ask you whether I might open my mouth on 
 art or not ? Isn't form the first step in art ? The 
 man who has an eye for form is an artist whether he 
 practises it or not. D'ye know, I blush for many of 
 the tailors of this town who have not sense to blush 
 for themselves. Some of them hold a high head in 
 society, who could not busk a scarecrow. I had a 
 gentleman up here one day last week. He wished a 
 frock-coat made. I had made one for Willie ; and 
 when we looked out of the window there was a tailor 
 standing opposite with a new frock on, as tight and 
 right-up as a pencase. He was right smooth up and 
 down, like a halfpenny candle rolled up in a dirty 
 rag. I said to "Willie, 'Put on your frock and take 
 a turn round him, and the gentleman will have the 
 privilege of looking at the lines and judging for him- 
 self.' '"Well/ said he, 'that is the way to see the 
 difference/ Willie's was seated on him at all points, 
 and showed the bearings of humanity ; but there's no 
 use talking. They don't understand it, and yet the 
 fellows talk about it !
 
 220 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 " Look ye, I'll tell you what I'll do. I shall take 
 in hand to lay a web of broadcloth on the top of 
 Mathie's house (which is flat-roofed), and tie one end 
 of a rope to the top of the Low Church Steeple, and 
 the other to the top of the Councilhouse Steeple. 
 Give me a hatchet in my hand, and tie me to the 
 rope by the one foot and set me off full swing : I'll 
 engage, in passing and repassing that web of cloth, to 
 smite it with the hatchet, and in that way cut out a 
 coat which I'll warrant to fit better than one cut by 
 any other tailor in Kilmarnock with the aid of all the 
 mathematical instruments, tapelines, and other trash 
 you can give him to manosuvre with. They seem to 
 have no eyes, head, or hands ! 
 
 " Do you know that there's no tailors in Kilmar- 
 nock can put a white jean vest out of their hands as 
 they ought to do. They generally give it out of their 
 hand like a dishcloth. I'll tell you what I'll do: 
 Though you were to confine me in a coalpit for the 
 space of six months, neither allow me water to wash 
 me nor cloth to wipe me, bring me up at the end of 
 that time, and place me on the coalhill with as much 
 white jean and mountings as would make a vest ; if 
 I don't there sit down, cut it, make it, and put it out 
 of my hand cleaner than any other tailor in Kilmar- 
 nock will do with all the soap and water you choose 
 to give him I'll pawn my salvation, I will." 
 
 Such will do for a specimen of one I liked to hear
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEK. 221 
 
 illustrate himself. I got one suit of clothes made by 
 him, but he had flung the hatchet at them. He said 
 that he was going to make a man of me. I survived 
 the shock, but he perished in the attempt. Although 
 he did not die at the time, he ceased to live in my 
 confidence as a tailor. Yet he was a genius to talk !
 
 CHAPTEE XXXII. 
 
 COMBE ON THE CONSTITUTION OF WOMAN. 
 
 /H EOEGE COMBE was a genial old gentleman of 
 \JT the last generation. A native of Edinburgh, 
 not in the least connected with him who wrote the 
 " Constitution of Man ;" yet it is something strange 
 that man and woman should have both been favoured 
 by Goliaths of the same name, each standing for their 
 client in an open, undisguised, original way, and each 
 in advance of his time. My George was an original. 
 His voice had a sort of monotone about it by no 
 means offensive. He seemed in great and simple 
 earnest. His figure was gaunt ; his expression self- 
 satisfied. He was at home on any subject, free and 
 unrestrained in his utterance, unfettered by the 
 commonplace notions of society, and spoke his con- 
 victions with ease and grace as far as a graceless 
 man might or could. 
 
 One day, while speaking of the disposition and the 
 claims the women had on man for acts of kindness 
 and protection, he set himself up with his back 
 against the back of his chair, raised his shoulders to 
 their highest pitch, with a hand on each knee, his
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 223 
 
 eyebrows lifted to their widest stare, his nose at its 
 full length, and his mouth quite slack in its muscular 
 power. His pronunciation had little of the close 
 sound about it, every feature being open, looking first 
 into the fire, then on space, by way of seeking an 
 attitude suited to the dignity of his subject. He 
 broke silence with great solemnity, and emphasis 
 equal to the sympathy of a funeral undertaker. 
 " The man wha isna kind to a woman is no muckle 
 worth; forby, he stan's greatly in his ain licht, for 
 ony man wha is kindly to a woman, she'll kill hersel' 
 to keep him richt ; and I wad say that ony man wha 
 wad be travellin' alang the road wi' a woman, and 
 tak' her past the door o' a public-hoose and no tak' 
 her in and treat her to a dram, hasna muckle heart 
 in him, and nae manly feelin' aboot him. If a man 
 is truly kind to a woman, she'll kill hersel' to keep 
 him comfortable, and that's sayin' a gude deal in 
 behalf o' the women, but it is nae mair than I ha'e 
 proven. I'm gey sure that my first wife, puir body, 
 killed hersel' to keep me gaun aboot like an auld 
 gentleman. She wrocht nicht and day, washin' and 
 dressin'. She had sair wark and little sleep, a' that 
 I micht be comfortable ; and when the creature was 
 fairly beat aff and had to tak' her bed, she grat when 
 she found that she had to yield. But, oh, she was 
 faithfu' to the last, and weel do I mind the last 
 speech she made in this warld : it gaed to my heart,
 
 224 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 and the inairsae when I saw that her last thochts 
 were aboot my welfare. I gaed forrit to the bedside, 
 no lookin' for ony sudden change, when she lookit up 
 in my face, and, ' George/ quo' she, ' when I'm awa, 
 should you ever think o' takin' anither wife, tak' 
 Maggie, for she's been kind to me ;' and wi' that she 
 fixed her een on the laft, streekit oot her heels to the 
 bottom o' the bed and set back the croon o' her head 
 on the bowster, neither gied sigh nor groan, and there 
 she lay, a corpse ! I stood and looked at her for a 
 wee, maist as far gane as hersel'. Wasna that a very 
 touchin' scene to think on, let alane to look at ? 
 And as for Maggie, she proved a faithfu', kindly 
 creature. She never was very strong either, but 
 really she was willin', and did her part to keep me 
 a' richt ; but, puir thing, you see that her time has 
 come, so she's awa' too." 
 
 My wife remarked that this loss wad be sairer on 
 him than the first ane. George made a dead halt in 
 his look, and asked her, " What loss ?" " The loss o' 
 Maggie," quo' she. Here he tightened up and said, 
 like one full of hope : " She's no lost. Na, na ; she's 
 in heaven this nicht, every bit o' her." 
 
 A few acquaintances gave George a convoy home 
 the night he buried Maggie. Nancy was waiting to 
 receive them; the fireside was nicely cleaned up. 
 One of the friends took home a bottle of whisky, 
 which in some cases relieves a wounded spirit.
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 225 
 
 When George had got twa glass, his heart opened, 
 and a gush of gratitude burst out in praise of Nancy, 
 wha had taken such an interest in the last illness o' 
 Maggie. " Na, na, I'll never forget Nancy," said he ; 
 she has a tender heart, Nancy. What think ye she 
 said to me ? I was telling her that I was gaun to 
 bury Maggie in the Gorbals kirkyard beside my first 
 wife. ' What will ye do, George ?' quo' she. ' What 
 will I do ? I'll watch her grave,' quo' I, ' and see 
 that the doctors winna lift her for this sax weeks 
 to come.' 'And will ye no be fleyed ?' quo' she. 
 ' What would fley me ?' quo' I. Said she, ' George, 
 if ye thocht that ye wad be fleyed, I wad gang and 
 watch alang wi' you.' Wasna that kind o' her ? 
 Think how few women wad mak' an offer like that. 
 Na, it was baith kind and considerate." 
 
 Nancy became the third wife, but she saw George 
 out. George always said that our time in this world 
 was short, and we couldna afford to loss ony o't ; and 
 he added, with peculiar emphasis, "Nae man ever 
 heard me speak lichtly o' women or a glass o' gude 
 whisky. I ha'e been the better o' them baith, and 
 ha'e nae sympathy wi' thae teetotal folk, wha want 
 that openness o' heart that whisky inspires. I ha'e 
 made the best o' my time every sensible way."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 DISTURBING INFLUENCES. 
 
 AULD folk used to say that "there's a dub afore 
 ilka door." It would seem to be the same yet. 
 When Sandy Wilson wrote "Watty and Meg," he 
 made Watty soliloquise and moralise, while he was 
 at his brose supper, that 
 
 " Nane are free frae some vexation, 
 
 Ilk ane has their ills to dree ; 
 But in a' the hale creation 
 
 Was e'er mortal vex'd like me ?" 
 
 The last clause seems to be the universal yowl. 
 Everybody kens his ain ken, and we think that our 
 cross is the heaviest, which is simply an illustration 
 of our selfishness. Some folk carry a high head and 
 a fu' cup. The auld folk, as a simple, sensible remark 
 on such a standing or walking along life's road, said 
 that " it's ill to carry : we're apt to jibble some o't by 
 the way." 
 
 One day, a wheen years back, I was taking a walk 
 down Govan Road, below Glasgow. It was a fine 
 afternoon; everything in nature seemed smiling. I 
 was seeing pleasant pictures at every turn ; there 
 was true harmony in the outer world. I thought
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTER. 227 
 
 nothing about human beings except where they came 
 in as figures appropriate to the picture selected. I 
 had my wife along with me, and used to call her 
 attention to what pleased me. An old woman was 
 coming after us at a blattering pace, when I said to 
 the wife, "There's an auld woman coming after us 
 that has a storm in her inside." She turned, looked 
 at her, and then turning to me, said, " You just fancy 
 that you see expressions in folk's faces when there's 
 naething wrang wi' them; that's a decent, quiet- 
 looking woman, but just in a hurry." "We'll see," 
 quo' I. The old woman came up, muttering some- 
 thing, and was passing, looking at the road as she 
 padded barefoot along. I hailed her pleasantly, 
 asked her to take leisure; it would make the road 
 short to have company. "Oh, gudeman, I wadna 
 mak' very agreeable company for onybody the nicht ; 
 besides, I ha'e a lang road to gang before I get hame, 
 and, God knows, I ha'e a black hame to gang to." I 
 spoke in a sympathising manner, and tried the broad 
 grief of Watty on her peculiar position, that " nane 
 are free frae some vexation." " Aye, but, gudeman, 
 mine is to me baith sad and sair." Of course it 
 didna become me to pry into onybody's affairs, yet if 
 I could afford ony consolation by advice, I was 
 willing to soothe so far. She slackened her pace, 
 looked up in my face, and said : " Aweel, gudeman, 
 I may just tell you that I ha'e been ower at Partick
 
 228 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 at a writer seekin' advice, and it's unco little comfort 
 that I lia'e got. But, oh, I ha'ena time to tell you, 
 as I ha'e to gang to ayont Barrhead the nicht yet : 
 that will be aboot aucht mile." " Still," said I, " by 
 walking at leisure you will get, not only sooner, but 
 easier to it." " Can you tell me the nearest way to 
 it, gudeman ?" I named two ways. " Oh," quo' she, 
 " I ken baith o' thae roads, but is there naething 
 nearer ? Oh, gudeman, if I were able to flee to it, I 
 wad do it ; and yet what comfort is there that I 
 should sae hurry to it ? I ha'e twa swine there that 
 I'll either ha'e the breath oot o' or the bawbees ! I 
 ha'e nursed and fed them up to gude pork, and am 
 entitled to them in preference to ony ither body." I 
 here entered anew on the sympathetic as to the cause 
 of all this sudden overturn in life, requiring the advice 
 of the lawyer and the death of the swine. " Aweel, 
 gudeman, I'll tell you. At one time my gudeman 
 and me lived in Bridgeton o' Glasgow. Him and 
 me wrocht in Dalmarnock warks yonder, and we had 
 neebors that lived beside us real decent folk they 
 seemed; they had three muckle dochters and some 
 callants. We flitted out near to Neilston, my man 
 and me. We ha'e been there for three or four years, 
 and ane o' our auld neebor's muckle dochters cam' 
 up to our house about ten days since seekin' wark. 
 I took her in, gied her the use o' the house, her meat 
 and a bed, and bade her gang and see if she could get
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 229 
 
 wark. Aweel, she was out every day, and out rather 
 late at nicht ; so was my man, but they never cam' 
 in thegither till the nicht afore yestreen, and then 
 the truth flashed on me that they had been on the 
 spree thegither. But I brocht the affair to a bearin' ; 
 I said to the hizzie, ' You'll be out o' this the morn's 
 mornin' ' ; but I found that I was wrang. I should 
 ha'e turned her out that nicht, for she was up in the 
 mornin', stole my apron and my man's watch, and 
 stole my man too ! They were aff in the mornin' 
 afore that I was up, and I was at the lawyer to see 
 if I couldna get the hizzie apprehended." I said I 
 doubted she couldna; but had she only stolen the 
 apron and the watch she might ha'e had a grip o' her, 
 but taking the husband gave her a chance of saying 
 that he took the things with him. " That's just what 
 the lawyer said," quo' the auld wife ; " but, oh, man, 
 I ha'e nae heart to gae hame. If I had just got my 
 husband alang wi' me I wad ha'e let her keep the 
 watch, for a house without a man in't is a cauld 
 place. I hope he'll be hame afore me ; but let ony 
 auld neebors come to my house again, they'll get the 
 outside o' the door." 
 
 Independent of all the hurry at first, we walked 
 leisurely up to the Paisley Eoad and sat down on an 
 auld tree root. Her heart was sinking at the thought 
 of the lang road and the sad sight at the end o't a 
 tameless house and twa hungry swine. "But, my
 
 230 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 feth," quo' she, " ance I reach the Shaws I'll ha'e ae 
 half-gill to heat the heart o' me and mak' me mair 
 deevlish on the road. Oh, but I could skin the 
 hizzie wha has thus broken my peace," and she 
 started for her nameless hame.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 SHEARING THE PLEDGE. 
 
 TJEOPLE fighting their way through the world, 
 JL bringing up a sraa' family, often think how weel 
 aff some neighbour is wha has naething hut the 
 wife and himsel'. The man will get his sleep at 
 night, and the wife will be happy to see him come in 
 at mealtime. Their home must be a sort of Paradise. 
 Others again say if that ye ha'ena weans ye may ha'e 
 waur. I once lodged with a pair who had been man 
 and wife for more than thirty year. They had nae- 
 thing but their twa sel's, and yet they had their ain 
 faught. The wife whiles took a taste, and while 
 under its influence was a perfect bletherbag. She 
 hadna a tooth in a' her head, and on that account her 
 tongue had mair room in her mouth ; and on ordinary 
 occasions it had little rest It was a sort o' perpetual 
 motion. However, a period arrived when the man 
 and his wife were looking at some process of bettering 
 their condition. He was going to commence business 
 on his own account, and he would make her a lady 
 so-being she would join the teetotal society, and he 
 also would take the pledge. This was agreed to, and
 
 232 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 the new world was nearly a week auld when I came 
 in one day near to two o'clock. The wife had been 
 first at a welcome-hame ; next at a christening ; then 
 in her own house, sitting balancing on a chair, her 
 head on one shoulder, her under lip with a twist on 
 it, and sound asleep. It was a new picture of past 
 life, more humbling than hopeful to look at. I 
 passed into the room unnoticed by her; I was 
 anxious to hear how the husband would like the 
 failure. In he came, and for a time silence reigned ; 
 however, his voice soon reached my ear as in 
 soliloquy : " Oh, sirs ; oh, sirs, sirs, sirs ; what's this ? 
 what's this ?" She, wakening up, inquires, " What 
 isht? what's wrang, James?" "Oh, woman, didn't 
 ye promise to behave yoursel' when I was gaun to be 
 a maister plaisterer, and ye were to behave like a 
 maister plaisterer's wife ? Oh, woman, woman, ye'll 
 ye'll ye'll be sent to hell ; yes, to hel-1-1 for what 
 you have done to me." His agony was intense and 
 his pauses long, as if he had a difficulty in selecting 
 a proper punishment for what she had done. The 
 reply was about perfect ; there was a composure in 
 the way she said, " Tuts, man, James ; there's nae 
 use in tryin' to fricht me wi' your hell, lad. Bum 
 for ever and ever ! It's a' blethers, man ; I wadna 
 stan't no twenty minutes. I wad just play biz-z-z 
 like a red herrin', and then it wad be a' by wi' me." 
 The poor man looked unutterable things, and thinking
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEK. 233 
 
 it was a hopeless case, said, "Onybody wha is no 
 fear'd for hell, I kenna what wad fricht them." 
 " Man, James," said she, " I was at a christenin', and 
 didna like to bring awa the gude luck frae the bairn ; 
 so I just drank its health. I wad like to drink yours 
 just noo !"
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 SPEECH AND ACTION. 
 
 mHOMAS CRAIG, a hard-brained old veteran, 
 JL born the same year as the Duke of Wellington, 
 kept a public-house in Neilston. You could not 
 help liking him. There was a pump opposite his 
 door, which he saw maintained in proper repair. He 
 stood for the pump against the boys and folk wha 
 jumbled it without right. The boys called him Auld 
 Tarn Pump. He was an upright piece of humanity. 
 His speech and action had pith. His public-house 
 was clean, comfortable, and orderly. A teetotaller 
 named Hitchcock came one evening and set himself 
 up on a chair beside the pump, opposite the public- 
 house door. The lecturer, collecting a crowd opposite 
 Tarn's door and opposite to Tarn's traffic, was rising 
 in his eloquence against the use of ardent spirits, 
 when forth came Tarn with a hatchet in his hand, 
 and, looking the figure of determination, called upon 
 him to a pause, saying, "Now, sir, whether your 
 name be Hitchcock, Moorcock, Gamecock, or Midden- 
 cock, unless you have the prudence to remove your- 
 self frae whaur you are, wi' one thunder o' this
 
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 235 
 
 hatchet I'll send the chair frae below your feet ; and 
 mind you, Mr Hitchcock, while you violate the law 
 I seek its protection, so be off from opposite my 
 property you and your friends." "My faith," said 
 Tarn, "but they had the sense to see that I was in 
 earnest, and the cock and his company took wings 
 to somewhere else." 
 
 The day the news came of the Duke of "Wellington's 
 death, Tarn came down to Glasgow, looking for an 
 artist to paint his portrait. He had got some small 
 amount of money left him, and that was the shape 
 in which he wished it put. I painted an excellent 
 likeness of him. During the sittings he gave out 
 some very fine features of his character. Speaking 
 of his minister, he said that he was a vain fashious 
 creature, proud o' the bits o' legs he stood on; set 
 doon the feet o' him like a dancin' master; was never 
 out o' a law plea wi' some ane or anither, and had 
 mair o' the deevil than a preacher o' Christ's Gospel 
 in him. "He is a low tyrant," said Tarn, "when- 
 ever he has a chance. There was ae time that he 
 refused me church privileges for some grumble that 
 was atween us, and kennin' that he was fond o' law 
 and that I had plenty o' witnesses, I was determined 
 to test the matter. The lad in his vanity was, as 
 it were, makin' a public example o' me. I appeared 
 in the court in Edinburgh wi' a thrash, and had 
 the case settled in a jiffy, leavin' him seventy
 
 236 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 pounds o' expense to pay. It seemed to sit ill 
 on him; in fact, it seem'd like het lead in his 
 wame, and he couldna forget it, but lectured and 
 preached awa' aboot it for eleeven months, declaring 
 that hell would be peopled wi' mansworn folk: he 
 seemed to hint that a' my witnesses and mysel' were 
 perjured. There was ae day that he was very bright 
 puttin' us a' into hell as I thocht, for he glowr'd aboot 
 to the place whaur I sat at the moment that his 
 wrath was at the boilin' point ; and, feth, I canna 
 say but that I found my blude get up at him, and, 
 ' My man,' says I, ' if I had your head in my oxter 
 just noo I wad ding the win' out o' your body.' 
 So I conclude that ony man wha could raise up my 
 wrath to sic a pitch wasna preachin' the Gospel o' 
 Christ to me as a sinner, but makin' me waur than I 
 wad ha'e been outside o' the kirk. I thocht that I 
 was as ill as him to sit and hear him ventin' his 
 wrath either on me or ony ither body, sae I cam' 
 awa', and kenna whether he be workin' awa' on the 
 same string yet or no ; but it's a pitifu' thing for a 
 parish to pay a man to belsh the ill nature out o' 
 him at folk in a place whaur they're no at liberty to 
 face him on fair terms. I look on it as the height 
 o' cowardice and mean ruffianism. An ill-natured 
 man is no suited to preach the doctrines o' peace."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 WILLIE FULTON ON TEETOTAL LECTUEING. 
 
 I HAVE often thought that temperance advocates 
 talk ower muckle to little purpose. Their figures 
 o' speech are ower wide scattered, hence they neither 
 convince nor convert their hearers to the cause they 
 talk about, while "a word in season" leaves a mark 
 on the mind for ever. "One Sabbath day," said 
 Willie Fulton, "I was comin' through the young 
 plantation at the corner o' my property yont by 
 there. It was a sunny Sabbath, when nature seem'd 
 at the gayest ; there was a freshness in the air that 
 was pleasant to the sense o' smell. There was a 
 footpath which had been formed by neighbours 
 taking liberties a thing I never object to. Just 
 about the middle o' the plantation I found a very 
 disagreeable smell, and turning round about to see 
 what it could proceed frae, I saw a man on his knees. 
 I spoke to him, but got no answer. I inquired at 
 him if there was onything wrang wi' him : he was 
 keeping in the same attitude, had a real serious look, 
 and seemed studying something very attentively. 
 There was a great swarm o' flies bizzing about his
 
 238 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 head, and I wondered that he didna fash at them ; so 
 I looked closer in, and, oh, man, they were working 
 out and in at the mouth o' him as bees in a skep, 
 and amang them was a corps o' thae big blue 
 bummers that spoil beef in warm weather. I looted 
 down and looked a wee closer in to him, but he ne'er 
 let on that he saw me. At length I saw a bit string 
 passin' frae his neck up to a young ash tree. I saw 
 then what was up : he had applied to the string and 
 the tree for help, and they had been mair trustworthy 
 to him than he had been to himsel'. Man, I kent 
 the creature ; he had drank everything he had, and 
 drank himsel' out o' the world's confidence; then 
 took a scunner at life after he had spoiled a' that 
 was lovely in it. I stood a wee, and thought that if 
 teetotallers had such a figure o' speech to bring before 
 an audience with such simple force of eloquence, it 
 was bound to have weight of argument in favour of 
 sobriety. 
 
 "As I stood musing I heard voices o' men comin' 
 alang the road, sae I gaed out to the corner; and 
 as they came forward I heard them discussin' some 
 teetotal lecture that wasna worth listenin' to : there 
 were far too many useless figures of speech in it. 
 ' Weel, men,' said I, ' if you will just be at the trouble 
 to come in here you will see a man preachin' a teetotal 
 sermon. You a' ken him, but I don't think that ony 
 o' you ken that he has ta'en to the lecturin'. He'll
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 239 
 
 no deave you wi' loud or lang speeches, yet I'll "be 
 bound that his eloquence will reach the heart o' the 
 most hardened observer; there is power in every 
 point of his subject.' I just gaed at leisure before 
 the men, and keepit talkin' awa' as I am doing to 
 you; and they werna the least prepared to meet 
 their auld drinkin' associate in such a plight, although 
 he had been absent frae hame for eleven days, and 
 had here sought seclusion to end his joyless days by 
 the aid o' a string and a young tree, which had yielded 
 so far to his weight as let him come to his knees. 
 There were five o' an audience beside mysel', but I 
 can assure you I ha'e never seen a mair attentive 
 audience to ony lecture on ony subject than these five 
 men. My surprise was over before theirs begun, so 
 I made a study between the dead and the livin'. 
 The first wha broke silence said, 'Is he dead?' 
 "The breath's out o' him,' quo' I, 'but there's great 
 life in him; as you may observe, he is a mass o' 
 vermin. And now, men, you see how he has lifted 
 his protest against the use of strong drink ; there is 
 eloquence in his silence that requires no comment.' " 
 Willie Fulton's manner of doing and saying will 
 long be remembered by his friends : to them he is 
 yet a living truth. I met with a Free Kirk clergy- 
 man once, to whom I was naming some of Willie's 
 lovable bits, when he said, with a sort of selfish 
 vagueness and a pomposity meant for humility,
 
 240 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 "Well, I don't know but what it had been better 
 for society if Mr Fulton had done fewer good deeds, 
 if it be true what Mr Brewster said that the man 
 did not believe in a God ; it may have led more souls 
 astray than what have been benefited by his charity." 
 "Well," said I, "your charity towards him may be 
 at a discount. Had he belonged to your kirk he 
 would of course have been a gem. Many men 
 profess to be Christians, but he was a Christian 
 without pretence." 
 
 An acquaintance one day spoke to him in a 
 friendly way as to his not attending church. Willie 
 listened to him, and then asked, " Do you really find 
 pleasure in attending the church on Sabbath ?" " I 
 do," said his friend. " Then," said Willie, " you are 
 quite right to go. But, man, I never can enjoy 
 mysel' in the kirk : there's naething enterteening in't 
 to me, and I would first like to be honest to mysel' 
 before I would think o' pleasin' ony ither body. I 
 was ance laird o' a kirk mysel : I bought the auld 
 laigh kirk o' Paisley, and lent it to the Eadicals or 
 onybody else to preach in wha had onything to say 
 for the gude o' society."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 A WALK AND A TALK WITH A POET. 
 
 A POET in the flesh has been to me a subject 
 worth looking at from boyhood till now. Boys 
 who at the same school rhymed poetry stand out 
 from the other boys as worth remembering. Eich 
 people had always an unenviable shape ; the difficulty 
 of getting into heaven was against them in youth, 
 and in maturer years our pleasures spring from 
 different sources. I gathered along life's road what 
 the world cannot give, and now enjoy what the world 
 cannot take away. In my walks and wanderings I 
 have met with some queer characters, both in 
 summer and winter. Cauld frost and snow bite 
 poverty-stricken people sairly, and whiles there's no 
 muckle sympathy extended to them. Speeches 
 loaded with complaint are seldom listened to, while 
 the honest expression goes to the heart whether you 
 will or not. 
 
 Once, in Glasgow, in the afternoon of a winter 
 
 day, Sabbath it was, I went out to take a walk down 
 
 Paisley Eoad after I had enjoyed a comfortable 
 
 dinner. It was savage frost ; snow had been on the 
 
 R
 
 242 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 ground, had melted partly, then frozen again. The 
 road was now a sheet of ice clear, hard, and slippery 
 ill to keep the feet on. When I came down to 
 Kean's Cottage (it was before the days of Forbes 
 M'Kenzie), some young men and women came out of 
 the cottage. They were well-dressed, light-headed, 
 and light-hearted. They were joking among them- 
 selves as to the slippery state of the roads, and even, 
 in addition to their giddiness, trying to take the feet 
 from each other. A different sort of study then 
 made its appearance. The toys of society were 
 eclipsed by a sad reality a sair-worn something 
 that had once borne resemblance to a man, now 
 rowed up in a bundle o' auld claise that might have 
 adorned a scarecrow in a potato-field without raising 
 the envy of a dealer in cast-off raiment : an auld 
 Kilmarnock bonnet, pulled down to the eyes; the 
 head leaning forward; the shoulders rounded, and 
 high as the crown of the head ; an earthy coat that 
 might once have been black, the very dirt on it 
 glazed, buttoned to the throat ; the skeleton of two 
 pair of trousers, torn to strips ; and a pair of bauchles 
 on the stockingless feet. He looked at nothing on 
 the surface of the outer world : at a steady, mono- 
 tonous pace, he kept moving towards Paisley. I 
 wondered what could have given so much dejection 
 to the sum-total of this wreck of matter. I could 
 not have fancied that form ever the abode of poetry ;
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 243 
 
 it would have been the last element of thought I 
 should have guessed to have ever lodged in that clay 
 tenement. Notwithstanding that, this creature might 
 yet have some ideality lurking in the sad reality. He 
 must have had parents, who may have looked on him 
 kindly and hopefully ; but no ray was now visible. 
 It was a total eclipse. 
 
 I was keeping for a few minutes side-by-side with 
 this mystery. I remarked that the night was cold. 
 "Aye," quite passively uttered, without lifting head 
 or eyes, showing a want of feeling to the fact. 
 "Have you far to go to-night?" "To Beith." 
 " You'll no be gaun to walk it ?" " Aye," in the 
 same tone. "How far are you from Beith?" 
 " About sixteen mile frae here." " Have you friends 
 in Beith ?" " Aye ; ance I'm there I'll get a pass 
 frae Mr Dobbie that will tak' me alang the line to 
 Ayr." " Have you friends there ?" " Aye ; father 
 and mither stay there." "Is't long since you have 
 seen them ?" " A gude while." " Do they expect 
 you ?" " I dinna ken." " Will they be proud to see 
 you ?" " I dinna ken." " Where have you been ?" 
 " At Edinburgh, seeking employment." " What trade 
 do you follow ?" " A harness weaver." " Would 
 Paisley no have been a better place?" "No." 
 "Could you not have got lodging in Glasgow to- 
 night ?" " Aye ; and if I had waited in Glasgow I 
 could ha'e got a pass on to Ayr the morn. I was in
 
 244 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 the police-office restin', but there was a scoonrel there 
 wha nearly tore me in pieces." His trousers were 
 pointed to as proof. " Captain Miller is a fine niau ; 
 he's always kind to me." 
 
 Taking a sma' bit o' dirty paper frae out a pocket, 
 and handing it to me, " There," says he, " is a verse 
 o' poetry I wrote on him." It was miserable-like 
 writing. However, I managed to decipher it; and, 
 to my astonishment, it was well-built verse, and in 
 praise of Captain Miller, extolling his humanity and 
 kindliness of heart to "the poet"; aye, even to "his 
 poet." 
 
 I asked if that was all the poetry he had ever 
 written? "Oh, no; I published a volume in the 
 Spenserian style, ca'd 'The Retrospect/ " I stood 
 and looked for a moment as if I had been shot at. 
 " Are you John Wright, frae Galston ?" " Aye." I 
 had heard queer descriptions of John's outer man ; 
 had read his inner man ; and could tliis be he ? 
 The reality outdid all description. " Do you ken a 
 place near Galston they ca' Burnawn?" "Aye; 
 it's the scene o' my poem." " Do you know Professor 
 Wilson of Edinburgh ?" " Aye ; I dedicated my poem 
 to him." " Do you ken Bob Neilson in Kilmarnock ?" 
 "Aye; he was a gude soul; he selt a heap o' my 
 books." At this moment he pushed his bonnet up 
 to the crown of his head and looked me full in the 
 face, showing a large development of brain, with an
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 245 
 
 expression as if wakening out of a dream at the 
 mention of one whom I knew had been a kind patron 
 in many ways to the spectre poet. 
 
 I now began to borrow pins from women by the 
 way, and used them in bringing the different frag- 
 ments of his trousers into contact and fixing them. 
 I walked along with him till we came to Paisley. 
 The pins were glimmering in the starlight. I had 
 twopence on me ; I borrowed other twopence by the 
 road, and at parting gave him fourpence. He looked 
 at it and said, "That will be a gill; I'll gang nae 
 farrer the nicht. I'll gang and stop wi' Jamie King : 
 his wife disna like me, but I canna help that ; I'll 
 surely get lyin' on the hearthstane." 
 
 I bade him "Good night." It was my first and 
 last night with the poet, who shortly after that was 
 laid by a few friends in the Necropolis at the Town- 
 head of Glasgow. Some Ayrshire friends followed 
 him to the grave and saw the turf kid ower him.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 A SENTENCE SPOKEN FRAE THE HEART. 
 
 A LIBERAL frae Kilbirnie side, meeting an auld 
 acquaintance after a long absence, was so de- 
 lighted at seeing him that he could not help proposing 
 a dram. " I'll stand one," said the acquaintance. So 
 in they went, and much was talked about "auld 
 langsyne" and the prospects of the present, when the 
 Liberal burst forth in honest avowal of his notions of 
 past and present : " Well, John, I would not like to 
 forget langsyne ; the remembrance of many things 
 are pleasant; but, John, there is no joy beats the 
 present to me. How I enjoy a sight of you and that 
 dram ! And for real heaven on earth commend me 
 to the company of four cronies met on a night at 
 e'en, after having wrought a faithfu' day's wark, in a 
 snug room, wi" four gills o' the best whisky made 
 into toddy; every ane wi' a lang pipe weel primed 
 wi' cut tobacco, and a fine auld psalm tune gaun in 
 four parts. I think, John, that it is the nearest 
 resemblance to heaven on earth. Some folk could 
 see no beauty in the like o' that ; and there wad be 
 nae use in employ in' missionaries to try and bring
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 247 
 
 them into that way o' thinkin', for they couldna 
 enjoy themsel's though they were in't. In that shape 
 there's no a desire left ungratified ; and gettin' a glint 
 o' a neighbour's face lookin' out amang pipe reek 
 maks you think that you are amang the clouds ; and 
 a taste o' toddy kills care : the outside world's rubbed 
 out, and nothing left to wish for but a continuation 
 o' the creature comforts."
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIX. 
 
 (Dedicated to John Knox.) 
 
 THE COBBLER'S DREAM. 
 
 SOME men dream through the world with their 
 eyes open. The relations of life as seen by 
 common folk have for them no charm. Dreamers of 
 this sort are called peculiar people, and they know it. 
 Making efforts to get out of the strait-jacket of use- 
 and-wont is called infidelity, or, rather, used to be so 
 called. That ugly nickname has lost its boo-cow 
 shape. Perdition used to be considered a proper 
 reward for emancipated minds more than forty years 
 bock. 
 
 The cobbler here meant, who is the hero of his 
 own dream and the author of this book, was one 
 night in the foundry at the Townhead of Kilmarnock 
 in company with Barbour Morrison, another fine-art 
 enthusiast. They were studying the pictorial influ- 
 ence of lights and their reflects, and had been dis- 
 cussing the same as warmly as if they had intended 
 illuminating the world in matters belonging to Kirk 
 and State, giving in the art department to the 
 bargain. A strong impression of fire effect was
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 249 
 
 made on the mind, remaining as vivid to-day as it 
 did more than forty years back. 
 
 At that time I occupied the house and garret once 
 occupied by old William "Wylie in High Street of 
 Kilmarnock ; and after going to bed on the night of 
 the fire study, instead of being refreshed with sleep 
 I dreamed that I was along with other three shop- 
 mates working in the garret, anxious and earnest to 
 get some shoes finished that were to be packed by a 
 certain hour. A bit of broken plaster on the side of 
 the stair allowed people on the way up to see who 
 was inside. A curious stillness seemed to take 
 possession of us all at the same moment, when I 
 thought that Tarn Grey said, " Fact, Hunter ; they're 
 coming for you !" I did not know who he meant, 
 but the garret door opened and a lady in white 
 entered, surrounded by a swarm of the same celestial- 
 like sisterhood. The very stair was crammed with a 
 host of witnesses, one of whom I heard at the hole 
 in the plaster whisper, " He's in." There was a press 
 forward, and great anxiety to witness how I would 
 look when confronted with such an angelic visitation. 
 The personages had a purity of complexion, a length 
 of figure such as Westall used to paint : Yellow hair, 
 sky-blue eyes, the long nose, and small mouths of 
 fabled beauty. There was a something about them I 
 thought did not belong to earth, and I looked on the 
 whole of them as impertinent. The front figure had
 
 250 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 a splendidly-got-up volume of a big book in her 
 hands, opened near to the middle ; there were heavy 
 hinges and clasps of gold on it. I took a firm and 
 steady look at them, when this front madam put a 
 question in stern yet softened dignity, "Do you 
 believe what's contained in this book ?" I said, " I 
 am not here to be questioned by any party as to my 
 belief ; what book is it, and what points of it do you 
 interrogate me upon?" "I'm not to be questioned 
 either," responded she. " Then," said I, " you are a 
 tyrant and a fosterer of blind faith, come from where 
 you will ; but I have this pair of shoes to finish by 
 five in the afternoon, so you can go up to the Gallows 
 Knowe, or anywhere else, and put past the time till 
 then." " Give him proof," said one of the side ladies, 
 and at that moment I was taken by the back, with a 
 firmness not to be mistaken, by one who was fit for 
 the task of removing me whithersoever she might 
 With one grand crash I was sent through the garret 
 window. I heard the shoe, which fell from my knee, 
 dunt on the floor. The broken glass went into the 
 garret like a shower of hail ; I thought that had the 
 glass gone in bigger bits, the shoemakers could have 
 used it. So here we were, whizzing through the 
 thickest, blackest darkness, solid as substance. I 
 could hear the rustling of the swarm of celestials 
 following in the wake. We had journeyed a long 
 way when, in a moment, another scene was opened
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 251 
 
 out of this darkness : the most dazzling light, so 
 pure, so soft, so unlike anything ever witnessed 
 before. Here was all the grandeur described as 
 heaven in the Eevelation of St. John. The singing 
 and movements were meant to astonish me ; all eyes 
 were directed to me. I was held to view the splen- 
 dour, and to be an object of their sympathy or disgust 
 in return. I saw a currier with whom I had formerly 
 had some conversation on divine things ; he had his 
 table there, and was scouring the bloom out of a large 
 kip hide. 
 
 I tried often to get looking round to the power 
 that had me in thrall ; however, I could not get 
 about, but turned my head as well as I could, and 
 said, " I suppose this is what you call heaven ?" I 
 was answered, " Yes." I had thus far been a witness 
 to the reality and the joys of it. My acquaintance, 
 the currier, was grinning and laughing at my helpless 
 position, when I asked those who held me if that 
 was really the sort of characters they peopled heaven 
 with ? To my knowledge that man robbed shoe- 
 makers when he was on earth by selling them damp 
 leather at an exorbitant price ! and as for my part, 
 I would rather stay outside than be where such 
 characters were admitted. The light was shut off as 
 it opened, and the primitive chaos remained ; my 
 head was turned down hill, and, with far more haste 
 than we ascended, I was hurried along. The light-
 
 252 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 ning's speed seemed applied to the down journey; 
 and I was sure if we came in contact with anything, 
 I must have gone to jelly or some sort of pulp. A 
 delicate light began to loom in the distance : it was 
 a fine light of sulphureous hue. On we went, the 
 light increasing in brilliancy and grandeur. The 
 jerks with which we rounded corners and passed over 
 toiling, sweating herds of human beings at furnaces, 
 as if engaged in smelting iron or some such employ- 
 ment ! The pictorial beauty of the place was en- 
 deavoured to be scanned, but the descent was too 
 hurried. Passing over and tlirough all heated influ- 
 ence with a hawk-like swoop, we arrived at a place 
 clear, light, and dry as dust, where, on a seat like an 
 auld dyke back where sheep had lain and sunned 
 themselves, there sat Jamie Cairns, with the most 
 miserable expression of countenance I had ever 
 looked on. I was set down beside him without a 
 word being said or without seeing any one. I looked 
 at Jamie and asked him, rather in a cheerful manner, 
 "What are you doing here?" "O, man," said he, 
 "I'm doomed to cobble, auld shoon through a' 
 eternity !" And what a look he put on when he 
 inquired, " Ha'e you got your sentence yet ?" I said 
 that I had had no trial as yet. I asked Jamie how 
 the hemp stood in this dry climate ? " Oh, hemp," 
 said he ; " hemp would never stand here. We ha'e to 
 sew them wi' a nailrod" [then he held up his hands
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEK. 253 
 
 to show me how they were torn], " and clink them 
 wi' tackets." Then he pointed to the great stores of 
 nailrod, the great bings of tackets, and a mountain of 
 auld shoon larger in extent than Arran hills, and 
 thae the most villainous course jobs, such as I have 
 seen worn by colliers who worked in pits where there 
 was copperas. Said I : " Jamie, are the jobs a' of 
 this cast ?" " Yes," said he ; " the lot that's laid out 
 to me. I think it is because I was a 'coarse worker' 
 in the world that I left. Man, the sight of such an 
 endless task is a sair punishment to look at even in 
 itself : it is endless and hopeless. I would like that 
 ye were to get seatroom here. We get nae sleep nor 
 nae rest. Toil, as a torment, is perpetual, and ye 
 daurna speak back." 
 
 I awoke, and behold it was a dream !
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 OLD RADDOCH THE ARTIST. 
 
 MR RADDOCH was, in his day, a respectable 
 portrait painter. He could take a good like- 
 ness, knew what art was, and what it was not. It is 
 near to forty year since he died. In his latter days 
 he was mostly under the patronage of public-house 
 people, whose traffic he patronised in return. He 
 could put his work quick out of hand, and often had 
 pay in advance. He did a good deal of business 
 about Paisley and Glasgow toward the end of his 
 days. The last portrait he painted was in the 
 Gallowgate of Glasgow: William Nelson, builder, 
 "VVhitevale, employed him to paint the portrait of his 
 father. I have looked on the work ; it was finished 
 all but a few touches, such as every artist inclines to 
 give. The spirit of the artist was in his work, and 
 he had taken a hearty glass on the eve of victory ! 
 William Nelson convoyed him home to his lodgings 
 down at Dovehill, and saw him up stairs to his 
 garret. It was the first time Nelson knew where he 
 staid, and he took special note of it. After he had 
 parted with the artist for the night, his kindly old
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 255 
 
 voice came down after him : " Willie, wait till the 
 morn; the few touches I have to give will immor- 
 talise both your father and me." Willie went home, 
 having invited the artist to breakfast next morning ; 
 but he came not. During the day he went to see what 
 had detained him. The artist was dead ! His land- 
 lady knew of no friends he had ; neither did Nelson. 
 The artist had got his pay beforehand. Nelson went 
 through a few friends who had patronised him, and 
 raised nineteen shillings and sixpence ; bought some 
 slabwood, made a coffin with his own hands, paid for 
 a grave, followed the artist to it, and laid his head in. 
 He had advertised, before and after burial, for friends, 
 but none responded. The artist's last words left a 
 strong impression on the mind of William Nelson as 
 to putting off till to-morrow what you can or ought 
 to do to-day. Whenever he heard anything named 
 for to-morrow, Eaddoch's voice reached his ear anew.
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 THE DEATH OF WILLIE PORTER'S CAT. 
 
 TTTILLIE'S Cat in its lifetime, like mony anither 
 VV body, had its ain way o' doing things. It 
 had lofty aspirations : used to mount to the house- 
 top, and at the lum-root take its place to watch for 
 sparrows, many of which fell a prey to its subtle 
 powers. It would sometimes mount to the very top 
 of the chimney, turn its face sunward, fold its body 
 round like a clew, and with its nose projecting over 
 the edge of the chimney, fall asleep. Its walks were 
 not confined to its own property, but it took rambles 
 or pleasure trips on the tops of the neighbouring 
 houses. 
 
 One day, at the breakfast hour, it was taking a 
 walk on the top of Tarn Brown's house ; the garret 
 window was up. Tarn was a shoemaker, and had at 
 this time twa apprentices and twa journeymen. One 
 of the apprentices had a nest of young blackbirds, 
 the chirp of which attracted the attention of the cat, 
 which, without leave. asked and obtained, walked in 
 at the garret window and silenced the chirpings of 
 the young blackbirds. Vengeance was sworn against
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 257 
 
 the cat ; the first proper opportunity death or a worse 
 punishment was to be awarded poor baudrons. Next 
 morning, at breakfast time, puss had taken her seat 
 on the top of her own chimney, and laid herself up 
 for a sleep, little thinking that it was to be her last. 
 Forth from Tarn Brown's garret came, with murderous 
 intent, Eddy Wilson, Geordie Hendry, and Davie 
 Miller. The road had been newly laid with mettle, 
 and the three had made choice of three stones each. 
 .According to arrangement, Eddy was to take the 
 centre, and have the first throw ; Geordie was placed 
 on his right, and Davie on his left, and neither were 
 to move in the matter till the first stone was flung. 
 Eddy was left-handed, and an excellent thrower ; he 
 made a decided hit by striking the sleeping cat fair 
 on the face with a funk, at which it leaped right up, 
 with its skull broken, and down the lum it went, 
 taking a whole body of soot in its descent. Willie's 
 lum was one of an old-fashioned wideness, with a 
 rungiltree instead of a swee. Willie had a real 
 earnest servant-lass, who was skellied in one eye. 
 She, at the moment of the cat's descent, was stirring 
 the parritch in the pot on the fire. When the cat 
 was on the way down she attempted to look up the 
 lum at the moment the cat fell splash in the pot, 
 sending the soot-beglaubered parritch right splash 
 into her face, scalding her severely. In her despera- 
 tion she had rubbed the blackened mixture over face 
 s
 
 258 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 and arms, which were bare, and reached the door in 
 nervous excitement, crying, "Lord Almichty, oor 
 hoose is haunted, and there's somebody fa'en doon 
 the lum an' into the parritch-pat." A crowd of 
 schoolboys were soon around her, some sympathising, 
 but most of them laughing. She had a strange 
 appearance, and her shouts for help were loud and 
 earnest. 
 
 Dan Wilson was a queer callant. He approached 
 her and expressed his surprise that she, who was so 
 specially fitted up for the purpose, had not looked up 
 the lum to see what it really was. She^declared that 
 it was by attempting to look up that she came by 
 her skaith. Dan walked ben quite manly ; took the 
 tongs and lifted the dead cat out of the pot, and 
 brought it to the door and shouted, " Hoa yea ! hoa 
 yea !" three times. " Let this be a warning to all 
 cats in time coming, who love a lofty walk and have 
 an appetite for blackbirds, to use a little self-denial, 
 as the want of it has brought this cat to a black 
 end." He would take the carcase in this shape to 
 Hughie Jamieson, the village poet, who would either 
 pen a song on the occasion or write an epitaph 
 warning all cats in future to be content with mice, 
 keep low in the world, and respect their neighbours' 
 property.
 
 CHAPTEK XLII. 
 
 TRUE DIGNITY. 
 
 SIMPLE-MINDED men often give the truest 
 definitions of right and wrong. One day I had 
 a conversation with James Edgar, a shoemaker frae 
 Maybole. We talked on many subjects where our 
 experience warranted us in coming to conclusions as 
 to right and wrong. " True dignity," said he, " can 
 never be acquired without honest intentions and 
 earnest perseverance. I ha'e been lang in that 
 opinion, and my whole life's experience bears me out 
 in so concluding. There are positions in life which 
 some folk waste time trying to reach, but, from want 
 of taking the straight road, they miss their object. 
 When I was a young chiel there were three o' us, 
 young lads, wrought in the same garret. The first 
 thing we determined on was to be first-rate trades- 
 men. That, we calculated, was within our reach. 
 There werena mony in Glasgow wad ha'e beat us ; 
 and we made up our minds to tramp to London, and 
 for that purpose we laid past sae muckle siller every 
 week. We would tak' the finest towns by the way, 
 rest a wee in the most o' them, and by instalments
 
 260 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 reach the capital. At a given time we were ready to 
 start, and our first day's walk was to Edinburgh. 
 on reaching which we were very wearied. We got 
 lodgings for the night. The ither twa keepit up the 
 crack that night about London. They had the names 
 of a' the best employers and the ' dons/ a term used 
 for first-class workmen. 
 
 "Mathew Strang and Willie M'Tear were the names 
 o' my twa shopmates. Mathew belauged to Kilmm- 
 nock and M'Tear to May bole. Hobby w:i* tin- 
 highest name as an employer in London at the time, 
 and Sangster was his light bootmau. He was a 
 native of Kilmarnock, and could live without a mat. 
 His only aim was to be a workman, and he attained 
 it, but forgot to be a man. The last time he came t<> 
 Kilmarnock to see his friends, he came without the 
 coat, and his sark sleeves rowed up. When leaving 
 again for London a shopmate asked him, ' When I 
 come to London, Sangster, where will I find you ?' 
 ' The first shoemaker you meet ask for Hobby's light 
 bootmau, and he'll tell you, for I shift my lod 
 often.' 
 
 "However, we had higher aims than only to be 
 tradesmen. That night, as we drew near Edinburgh. 
 my heart began to sink. Man, it's a fine thing to 
 ha'e a conscience, and it is health to a man to listen 
 to it. I began to think that I was on the wrung 
 road, and it was only when I turned my back on
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 261 
 
 hame that conscience whispered it to me, as I was 
 under a solemn promise to gang hame and marry 
 Kate. You may ask why I didna think on that 
 sooner ? It is a common thing wf the maist o' folk 
 that they forget to reason till they ha'e ta'en a wrang 
 step. I didna say muckle that night in Edinburgh 
 about our London jaunt ; but I can tell ye, though I 
 gaed to my bed, it wasna to sleep. I lay an' lookit 
 at my prospects, and tried a' ways o' reasoning on 
 the duty of going forward and being faithful to my 
 shopmates, but to be faithful to Kate overruled a' 
 ither reasoning. I rose refreshed in the morning by 
 coming to an honest conclusion, when I said to the 
 twa lads : ' It may look queer to you when I tell you 
 that an unprincipled acquaintance couldna be gude 
 company for either o' you ; I wisli you baith weel 
 forward, but for me, I maun gae back.' There was 
 no more about it, so we shook hands and parted 
 they for London and I for Maybole, to which place 
 I jogged along wi' a light heart and sair feet. I ken 
 naething better for making a man think properly o' 
 a comfortable hame than a lang road and sair feet ! 
 
 " At the gloamin' o' the third day I arrived in the 
 capital o' Carrick, where there was naebody expectin' 
 me. I saw a crowd o' youths at the door o' the hall 
 whaur meetings used to be held. When I asked at 
 a lass what was ado, she said that it was a meeting 
 o' shoemakers, wha were gaun to choose a king. I
 
 262 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 took a step into the meeting when they were naming 
 candidates, and was received amang my shopmates 
 wi' a wonnerfu' welcome, and put on the list for 
 king, which honour was carried by a great majority. 
 The news wasna lang o' ringin' through the town, 
 and I mysel' hurried alang to Kate to let her ken 
 that she was a queen. Mony a time I thought it 
 queer that by the taking o' that step higher honours 
 were awaiting me than I could foresee. Whatever 
 might await my travelling companions on their 
 homecoming, I was satisfied wi' my lot. What often 
 has pleased me was the fact that royalty didna end 
 there, for, as ye ken, my son Charlie had the same 
 honour conferred on him in Kilmarnock in 1821. 
 My opinion is that it is the true way o' settin' up for 
 a king. 
 
 " Aweel, Strang and M'Tear went on to London ; 
 they were baith excellent workmen, but wanted to 
 be better. At the time they went up the Hessian 
 boots were coming into vogue, and the crimping of 
 the fronts and giving spring to the backs were known 
 to few. Both of the lads made out the secret, made 
 themselves master of it, and after a while came home. 
 M'Tear set up for himself in Glasgow, and Strang in 
 his native place, Kilmarnock, as ye ken. Each of 
 them have been successful in business ; each of them 
 honoured by their acquaintances. M'Tear was a 
 magistrate in Glasgow, and Strang is at present
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEK. 263 
 
 Provost in Kilinarnock. So you see that all our 
 efforts have been crowned with success. My opinion 
 in my auld days is a confirmation o' what I thought 
 when I started frae Edinburgh to Maybole, that 
 nothing but honest integrity will lift a man and keep 
 him up in society ; and you will observe that our 
 anxiety at starting was to be able to do so as we 
 might deserve something in return." _
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 IRISH LADIES AT HOMK. 
 
 IN 1851 I visited Belfast for the first time. Every- 
 thing was looked at with peculiar interest, both 
 as regards places and people. In a few days the eye 
 begins to familiarise itself to whatever it looks on. 
 The light-striped dresses of the young women seemed 
 at first rather offensive, but they soon became light- 
 some and summer-like. The scenery had a tameness 
 which it never lost, yet a walk to the mountains 
 looking down on Antrim, Loch Neagh, and Shanes 
 Castle, with the conical hill of Slemish far out toward 
 Ballymena, was ever new and beautiful. 
 
 There is an earnest, outward expression in poor 
 people there strongly resembling the old Scotch 
 character in our rural districts at home, only the 
 Irish seem more able to express themselves. One 
 day I was taking a walk toward the mountains ; 
 when I got as far as Edenderry toll-bar I looked 
 back toward Belfast. The horizon became dark, 
 which thickened and drove along with rapidity. 
 The effect seemed to divide the world into night 
 and day. It was evident that a heavy hail shower
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEE. 265 
 
 was at hand, and to prepare for its coming I took 
 shelter under the projecting roof of the toll-house. 
 An old woman was coming padding along the road,, 
 her back being toward the blackness. Her mind and 
 motion were forward the perfect picture of serious- 
 ness within and absence without. She wore an old 
 black bonnet far over her eyes, which helped to blind 
 her to all around ; she had an old black pipe in her 
 mouth, the reek from which at intervals gave beau- 
 tiful form and relief to her dark figure against the 
 dark cloud of hail as it hurried along. 
 
 The old woman turned her eyes toward me as she 
 was passing, when I invited her to take shelter 
 beside me for a short time as we were going to have 
 a shower of hail. She looked suspiciously at me and 
 said : " Sur, you are funny, but you should not think 
 of taking your divarsion off an ould woman like me." 
 I said I was in earnest, and as I said so a thunner of 
 very large hailstones fell on the road. She looked 
 up, down, and around, then at me as she came across 
 to where I stood, but still suspicious. She had no 
 sooner taken her stand than a blast of wind came 
 sweeping along, bringing with it the heaviest hail 
 shower I have ever witnessed. It lasted little more 
 than a minute, then stopped at once, a dead pause. 
 The old woman said nothing during the fall, but 
 seemingly uneasy at the lull, she said, " I think I'll 
 go now." I said that she had better stay, as we were
 
 266 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 going to have a blaze of lightning, a roar of thunder, 
 and more hail " Thunder," said she, " at this time 
 of the year !" When she was looking up in my face, 
 full of doubt as to what I meant, a flash of lightning 
 reflected full in her eyes, followed by a terrific crash, 
 as if the toll-house had come to earth with it. She 
 crossed herself and exclaimed: "In the name of 
 God, I'm long enough in your company at any rate ;" 
 and as she took the road toward the mountains, 
 the wind and hail took possession of her; she was 
 hurried along the road at a rapid pace, and the solid 
 whiteness of the hail soon shut her out of sight. 
 The thunder had broke on the corner of a brick 
 chimney in Ballamacarret, taking a row of bricks out 
 for a few yards up its angle, leaving it quite ragged. 
 In a short time after the sky was as clear as if 
 nothing had happened ; the world around was white, 
 and the sun shining as usual The old woman seemed 
 to think that I was the cause of the whole affair ! 
 
 Shortly after the old lady had left, another clean- 
 looking, motherly old woman came up and introduced 
 herself in connection with the late storm. It outdid 
 anything in her experience, as it had really done in 
 mine. We walked a good way together, when she 
 asked if I could be so kind as tell her where Mr 
 Reid, the master bricklayer, lived ? I did not know. 
 It was somewhere out this way, and she thought that 
 it might be a mile farther out by the description she
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTER. 267 
 
 got before coming away. She had evidently made 
 up her mind to touch my feelings, as every now and 
 then she gave a delicately low-toned "Och, och!" 
 Then she told me that she had been sent for to come 
 out to see this same Mr Keid, who was a very dacent 
 man. Her son had wrought to him as a labourer for 
 a long time, and near to three months ago he had 
 been carrying up a hod of bricks to a housetop near 
 to Victoria Place, and she, poor woman, was sitting 
 with his dinner waiting till he would come down ; 
 and when stepping off the ladder to the scaffold, och, 
 och, didn't he and bricks and hod just fall slap at 
 her foot, and had not the Lord preserved her she 
 might have been killed on the spot. As she was 
 rushing forward to sieze him in her arms, without 
 knowing what she was doing, something took her fut, 
 and down she went, and there he lay with his thigh 
 bone broke and his head cut ; and it was a wonder 
 she ever came to her reason again. Her boy had 
 been since that time in the infirmary, and was 
 coming home to-day ; and Mr Keid, kindly con- 
 sidering her wants and his, wished her to have 
 something comfortable in the house to receive him. 
 
 The story was so well built that I had not the 
 least doubt about its architectural correctness. I 
 told a gentleman when I came home of the case of 
 kindness in which Mr Eeid figured so prominently. 
 He asked if I had not lent a hand to help the decent
 
 268 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 old woman ? I said that I had. He took a fit of 
 laughing, and said I had been sold. He himself had 
 given the old lady his mite one day, but it was her 
 husband who had fallen through the roof among the 
 joists that day. One nice little touch of the picture 
 I forgot : She said that she had waited on her son in 
 the infirmary the first week, and had not got a sound 
 sleep since; she wakened every now and at^rin 
 during the night with the same distressing repetition 
 of the fall. It was wonderful how like the dreadful 
 scene was in sleep to the original : how she would 
 follow the boy up the ladder, and when he would lift 
 his foot on to the scaffold, then whirl round, arid 1 la- 
 shower of bricks, followed by the hod and her dear 
 boy, would come spinning down ; how she leaped to 
 the rescue, tripped, and fell always the same way ; it 
 was like to take her head. 
 
 The acting was complete. There was no crowding 
 into the picture ; the mother's feelings were finely 
 kept in their place, and the generous way in which 
 the Lord was praised for preserving her boy was 
 worthy of a mother's gratitude. A Scotchwoman 
 would have failed as an actor : she would have done 
 it clumsily. The Irish character can put more ex- 
 citement into the picture what might be termed 
 active grief.
 
 CHAPTEE XLIV. 
 
 A SMA' BIT 0' HOME HISTORY. 
 
 BUENS has been vilified by the sickly senti- 
 mental and the "unco gude" for the faithful 
 portraits he has left us of the shape society had in 
 the days he lived. The decent man did not shut his 
 eyes and grope his way through the world ; he used 
 the talents of his senses as given him to name the- 
 various stumblingblocks he saw and felt in his own 
 path and in that of others. As a reformer he de- 
 stroyed the gods of the godless, the ignorant, and the 
 vain ; and for his pains he had the curse of the legion 
 poured on his devoted head in life, and his soul 
 doomed to endless perdition as a suitable reward for 
 his trouble. However, society takes up his tone and 
 sends his voice forward to free the mental limbs of 
 the coming men and women from the fetters of use 
 and wont. Burns saw the fruit of his labours coming 
 in the far distance. He had faith in himself and his 
 mission, and was invited by the goddess of his own 
 creation to 
 
 " Preserve the dignity of man with soul erect, 
 And trust the universal plan will all protect." 
 
 When the actions of man in society will be in
 
 270 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 harmony with the religious pretence or outside film, 
 then will he at least have the reputation of being in 
 earnest; but so long as the real life belies the form 
 to outside observers, the more is the life of liars a 
 visible lie. 
 
 In the good old times Sabbath-breaking was less 
 before the world than it is now. Neither men nor 
 boys were so openly defiant. Decent men, as well 
 as women, when I was young, attended the neigh- 
 bouring communions with a single-heartedness 
 worthy of the occasion. Cronies of a pious turn of 
 mind, by appointment, long before the day of humilia- 
 tion had arranged to walk together to the place of 
 meeting. Should it be a few miles out, as a neces- 
 sary consequence a refresliment was essential, ami 
 there was neither let nor hindrance, as no Forbes 
 M'Kenzie ever interfered wi' my grandfathers and 
 grannies as they went about their spiritual or 
 temporal duties in this life. But, to look at a case 
 and pass on to some other shapes o' character : Twa 
 decent men in Kilmarnock, with whom I was well 
 acquainted, made an appointment to attend Fenwiek 
 sacrament. They kept their tryst like men who h;i<l 
 something at stake ; felt humbled on account of 
 sin, wearied wi' walking, happy wi' being refreshed, 
 and thankfu'. On the whole, the walk by the way 
 and the beauties of nature were not the least of tin- 
 good things scattered around the outside of them ;
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 271 
 
 but the inside fittings had been so heartily responded 
 to on the way hame, and as Christie had a wee house 
 by the wayside at Beansburn, where he at that time 
 kept "the best yill under the sun" (at least so the 
 sign said above his door, where a very primitively 
 painted sun shone), my friends entered ; and as 
 after a storm there is sometimes a calm, so after 
 Christie's sunshine there was an eclipse visible so 
 much so that the two, still standing on their respecta- 
 bility, and the nature of their day's mission ending 
 in moonlight, were aware in this mist that it would 
 be an unseemly affair to be seen going hame in that 
 plight on the Lord's night. One of them proposed, 
 as a quiet way, that they should go down the Dean 
 Park, cross the steps at the foundry, and slip down 
 the Townhead about the time that the inhabitants 
 might be at family worship. 
 
 So, by consent, they started, reached the steps in 
 safety, and had a consultation as to whether it would 
 be better to try the steps or whether one of them 
 should strip his stockings and shoon and cany the 
 other on his back. This was concluded as the most 
 steady -going way ! Small stones are sore on the feet, 
 and when double weight is added, still more acute is 
 the touch ; and so it was in this case. An attempt 
 to ease the foot produced a stacher which was 
 naturally accounted for without the sun's influence 
 at Beansburn. By a slender movement to leeward
 
 272 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 it ended in "Willie lying down, and as Tarn had 
 Willie's slioon and stockings in his hand, as a natural 
 consequence they went down the water. The men 
 got out little the worse for the ducking, and readied 
 cover undiscovered. As they entered the door, 
 " Heigh," says Tarn, " but it's a blessin' that nane o' 
 o' the neebors ha'e seen us comin' hame." Willie, 
 feeling the absence of his stockings and shoon, 
 seemed touched, and said, "Tarn, it wad seem that 
 the neebors' een gang fairer into thee than tho 
 Almichty's. The Gudeman is aye watchin' us, and 
 has wonnerfully preserved us tliis nicht. As for our 
 neebors, they ha'e enough to do to mind theinsel's ; 
 but wasn't it thee that first proposed to come this 
 way?" "Aweel," quo' he, "it matters na; we ha'e 
 just gotten what a' backway sneakers ought to get ;" 
 and in this shape they ended their moralising. After 
 a tumbler o' warm toddy and a sair rippet wi' thrir 
 wives, and being reconciled wi' the ways o' Provi- 
 dence, they went to bed. I ha'e heard them, when 
 they were aidd men, enjoying their joke ower the 
 past, and when they were getting happy, cautioning 
 each other about the sharpness o' their neighbours' 
 een ! Burns speaks of and to a peculiar people when 
 he wishes them to take stock of their actions : 
 
 " Discount what scant occasion gave 
 
 That purity ye pride in ; 
 And (what's aft mair than a' the lave) 
 Your better art o' hidin'." 

 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 273 
 
 Iii most o' cases langsyne, when folk required 
 refreshment they got it. Whether the supply was 
 equal to the demand or not depended on circum- 
 stances, but nobody could be mair earnest to please 
 and to be ready for the coming of such periodical 
 events than the publicans. In our ain place, prior to 
 the sacrament, the callants wad ha'e gi'en Mysie 
 Wallace a lift wi' ony heavy thing or run a message 
 for her. There was even in her sma' affair a number 
 o' out-o'-the-way things to be brought to the front, 
 let alane an extra brewin' o' yill extra in every 
 shape, mair o't, and a wee touch mair " heady." 
 
 A wooden "caup" or "bicker" was the name of 
 the dish out of which this precious yill of the good 
 old times was couped ower the hause in medicinal 
 style. A "gang o' pap-in" was the order, which 
 meant a wee gill o' whisky, a chappin o' yill, and a 
 little oatmeal in a saucer ; and, with the aid o' a tea- 
 spoon, or sometimes a small horn ane, they stirred up 
 a mixture o' whisky and meal. It was a deceiving 
 sort o' drink : while it raised the heart it glazed the 
 een ; and, by way of giving a fine feeling to the yill, 
 (it was the bitter beer of that time,) a nice wisp of 
 broom was stuck in the stroop of the copper cauldron 
 while running aff the wort. However, it's not so 
 much the brewing as the preparation for the custo- 
 mers that concerns the gudewife who has faith in 
 hersel', the callants, and her mither. All things 
 T
 
 274 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 were finished late on Saturday night, and the weather 
 looked suspicious like, though it was during the 
 longest days of summer. The green in the yard was 
 finely fitted, up wi' forms, and benches where tables 
 were scarce. Mysie surveyed the finish of her 
 preparations with a full smile of approbation, and 
 only wished a smiling Sabbath to shine out on her 
 efforts to make her guests at home. Short as the 
 night was, Mysie made several times a trip in dis- 
 habille between her bed and the door. The suspicious 
 look of night had developed into a flood of rain, and 
 Mysie made a sort of soliloquy something like this : 
 " Aweel, after a' my trouble, to be treated this way is 
 most damnable." 
 
 Her auld mither, being a wee dull o' hearing, 
 shouted but to the door, " Hoo's this mornin' lookin', 
 Mysie ?" " Most h lish, mither ; the Sacrament 'ill 
 no be worth a d n. There 'ill no be a soul frae 
 Kilmarnock here this blessed day, an' there a' our 
 gude yill will be left on our hau'." " Aye, ye see, 
 Mysie, thou was in ower big a hurry countin' thy 
 profits yesterday ; but thou sees not what a day may 
 bring forth. Keep thy heart up ; there's a lump o' 
 the day to come yet. The worth o' our yill is nae 
 secret to the Kilmarnock folk." With that Mysie 
 dauded the door in the face o' the rain, and went to 
 bed again, saying as she tumbled in : " There's nae 
 position that a body may be pkced into in this warld
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 275 
 
 but a proper knowledge o' the Gospel can offer 
 soothing to the sair, if it shouldna a'thegither heal 
 the wound. The rain may do gude itherwise, but it 
 'ill no pay the mautman."
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 THE AULD KIRK CAT: A PICTURE TAKEN FRAE THE 
 DISRUPTION PERIOD. 
 
 " T OVE my dog, love mysel'," is an auld test of 
 I 1 friendship. "Hate my cat, hate me," was 
 used by auld women wha had nae dogs. The weak- 
 ness of the outer world is best explained when every 
 man speaks for himsel' ; and when the tone comes 
 from one a wee thing better than the neighbour he 
 talks about, the speaker very often tells more about 
 himself than he intended. Animosity among neigh- 
 bours sometimes takes the place of Christianity, and 
 more especially should it come to a struggle in party 
 strife in connection wi' some religious body ; and as 
 all think themselves right, wha but themselves can 
 decide with satisfaction ? To be on the right side is 
 great power to the individual, and from his own 
 stand-point neither his neighbour nor aught that is 
 his can look bonnie ; and very often they use the 
 same language against each other, which neutralises 
 all that may be said on either side, and satisfies an 
 onlooker or listener that there's no sae inuckle odds 
 of folk as one would at first think.
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEE. 277 
 
 Langsyne, in rural districts, few folk had an honest 
 opinion unless they got a drink o' yill and a preein' 
 o' whisky to give that spirit of independence that 
 often put them ower the score. What the minister 
 said they said in their sober moments. An old man 
 of my acquaintance was one day standing in our 
 village conversing with his grandson, who happened 
 to preach for himself and a few neighbours besides. 
 The old man could not be reconciled to the young 
 one being so audacious as to set himself up to preach 
 without a cloak and bands. It gied the Gospel a 
 naked sort o' look for a man in common claise to 
 venture on such a step. However, the auld man at 
 this period had got his een opened. His minister 
 had opened his intellectual vision in a few days to 
 discover a mighty mass o' dirt connected with the 
 Establishment, a place which up to this time had 
 been full of sunshine, truth, love, and every other 
 ideal quality. All this at once to be looked on as a 
 lumber garret was new light ! And the old man 
 was vain of his new knowledge, and even looked 
 younger, always wondering how he had been so long 
 in the dark. At this moment a big gray cat looked 
 out of a neighbour's door. The old man surveyed 
 the cat with a savage grandeur, and remarked with a 
 chuckle, "That cat kens me! The folk that it 
 belangs to didna come out the kirk when I cam'. 
 They sat still amang the stoor, whereas I followed
 
 278 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 my minister like a man ; and, man, they worship 
 that ugly beast." "Oil don't think that," said the 
 young man. " But I say they do, though," said the 
 old man, rather heated; "did I no see't sneak in- 
 through amang their dishes on the dinner-table the 
 ither day an' stappin' its ill-bred nose into every dish 
 that it thought proper." "Well," said the young 
 man, " that wasna worshippin' the beast." " But I 
 say it was, though." This point being settled, a 
 gleam of sunshine seemed to fill the old man's face 
 with smiles as he said again : " 0, man, but it's an 
 ugly beast ; but I'm thinkin' its just as weel to keep 
 out o' my gait, for if I could get a sly skyte at him 
 wi' my fit, I wad surprise him. Man, were he to 
 sneak up on my table as I saw him doing at hame, I 
 wad ding the ribs frae the back bane o' him. You 
 see how he is pretendin' to steek the een o' him, and 
 aye takin' a sly peep at me ! The lad hasna forgotten 
 me yet ; I think the fright I gied him will be aboot 
 the hin'most thing that he'll keep mind o'." 
 
 The grandson here inquired about this event, so 
 full of interest to the cat. Language fails in print to 
 convey the power, being deficient in pauses and 
 energy, tone of speech, and left-handed eloquence, 
 accompanied by the Satanic chuckle while adminis- 
 tering castigation. " Man," quo' the auld ane, " your 
 Tammy had a young sparrow : a droll bit tiling it 
 was. It was great company to me when sittin' in
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 279 
 
 the garret my lane. It wad flee through the house, 
 and pretend that there was something chasing it ; 
 then it wad alight on my shouther, and rin into my 
 bosom to hide ; then it wad come slippin' out, put 
 out its wee head to see if the coast was clear, and say 
 'Philip' like a hody. You wad really think that 
 baith beast and body get some warnin' when onything 
 serious is gaun to happen. At least it was so wi' it, 
 for after ane o' thae funny turns it flew down to the 
 floor an' was pickin' up some bits o' moolins sae lively, 
 when, without the least warnin', that lad comes 
 slippin' in an' puts his fit on't an' aff wi't. Man, but 
 it had little warnin'. I heard it just gi'e ae faint 
 cheep as it gaed doon the stair. I sat for a wee 
 while motionless, but what could I say or do ? 
 Nothing could save the sparrow, but thinks T, 'If thou 
 get aff peacably wi' this ane, it's mair than like that 
 thou'll come back for anither, and if thou do, Lord 
 help thee.' Weel, man, it turned out just as I 
 thought. It's no five minutes till the lad's back 
 lickin' his lips, and he looks up in my face and says 
 ' Gwaw, waw,' and forrit the lad gangs to my hearth- 
 stane and rowed the ill-bred tail o' him round his 
 hurdies, and then looks up at the fire the same as if 
 it had been his ain. Thinks I, 'Ance I ha'e the door 
 slippet to I'll gi'e thee thy pension.' I just made ae 
 spring to the door, and to wi't. 0, man, the lad saw 
 then that he had dune wrang in comin' back, for he
 
 280 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER.. 
 
 , 
 
 up an' in at the end o' the dresser, and sat there till 
 I was ready to pay him a visit. I got a last in one 
 hand and the strap in the ither, and looked in to him 
 and speert gin he wanted anither sparrow, and there 
 I fell till him wi' the strap, and laid on him a' my 
 pith till I was sweatin', partly wi' fricht an' partly 
 wi' fatigue ; and while I was floggin' him he got up 
 his back like the arch o' a brig, and the tail <' him 
 was as thick as my arm and cocket up by the loft. 
 He glowred at me ; you wad ha'e thought that ke 
 had spectacles on the een o' him, an' he was mouth 
 frae lug to Ing, and he talked like a body. He took 
 some o' the heigh notes like a prize singer. I began 
 to think that if a beast like that were to come out 
 on me in a state like that he might do me some ill, 
 so I thought that I wad gi'e him anither chance for 
 his life, as he had paid gey weel for the sparrow. I 
 opened the door and stood back, when, wi' a spring 
 like a tiger, an' a fuff, spit, and fizz, he landed just at 
 the stairhead. I was as ready's him, and gied him u 
 skelp just aneath the tail wi' the last; it ca'd the 
 hin' en' o' him ower the head o' him ; and, man, he 
 gaed thump doon the stair, takin', ye wad ha'e 
 ' thought, the whole o't at ae step. And thinks I, 
 'Thou's done for noo;' 'and I ran to the stairlu-atl, 
 just expectin' to see the corpse o' him lyin' on the 
 neathmost step ; but, hegh, no ! I just got a waff o' 
 the tail o' him gaun out o' the bole at the stairfit.
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 281 
 
 Thinks I, ' Thou canna gang far ;' so I ran doon and 
 put out my head, but could see neither hilt nor hair 
 o' him. I drew in my head and came up the stair, 
 but I was sae excited that I couldna compose mysel' 
 to work ony mair that day, so it was a dear job to 
 me as weel as the cat. They tell me that a cat has 
 seeven lives ; I think that I knocked sax o' that lad's 
 out o' him that day ony way, but I'm thinkin' wi' 
 his odd ane that's left he'll no forget me as lang's he 
 has it. But, oh, man, he's an ill-lookin' beast." 
 
 " He'll nae doubt think that ye're ill-lookin' also," 
 said the young man. " Think you ? Weel, I wadna 
 say."
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 THE LAST SPEAKER CONTINUED. 
 
 " nnHERE'S our coalman coming. Oh, man, he's 
 JL an unco creature, that, and he's fou as usual. 
 Man, to hear that useless thing wading through the 
 Scriptures wad astonish you. You wad think that 
 he had the whole Bible by heart, and he's unco ill to 
 please wi' a minister. He has been rinnin' frae ae 
 place o' worship tiil anither for a while back. Last 
 time I heard o' him he was wi' the Methodists, and 
 was even rantin' amang them at night at some o' 
 their meetin's. There was somebody tellin' me that 
 he was courtin' his fourth wife. I was at the last 
 ane's burial; it was a curious sight to see him 
 standin' at the door tryin' to look vexed. He had a 
 kind o' whisky hiccup and was blear'd like, and was 
 aye dichtin' the een o' him, although feint a tear I 
 saw comin'. It was a real cauld day, and it was a 
 gey wee past the hour, and there was nae word o' 
 John comin' wi' the spokes and stools, and I gaed 
 forrit and touched him on the shouther ; and, man, 
 he waukened out o' his sleep as it were, and inquin tl 
 wi' a lang-visaged vacant stare, 'What is't ?' And
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 283 
 
 quo' I, ' Dost thou think that thou named twa o'clock 
 to John as the hour o' burial ?' Man, he gied a 
 fearfu' oath, that there was aye something rinnin' in 
 his head. He had forgotten to speak about the grave 
 a'thegither; that cow'd a'. Some o' the neighbours 
 gaed awa' hame ; I waited by him. We ran and got 
 John, and him and his man werena lang o' howkin' 
 a grave, and we got her stappit in beside the rest. 
 The three are a' in ae hole, and some say that they a' 
 had blue een when they left the warld. Black seems 
 to be the coalman's Livery ! It was wonnerfu' to hear 
 how the creature swore about forgettin' the grave. 
 
 " He's a great han' for splorin' about his punctu- 
 ality in ordinary transactions, and of what a pointed 
 man his father was. I kent aidd John, the father o' 
 o' him. An earnest, hard auld miser he was; he 
 hoarded the share that he had in this world till he 
 could haud it nae langer. He grudged his wife a 
 drap wine when she was deein', and he even grudged 
 to tak' it to himsel'; and I mind weel o' the talk 
 that was made about the auld man's last will and 
 testament. As he hadna muckle left for ony body to 
 fecht about, he ca'd that ane to the bedside, alang 
 wi' anither Men', and quo' he : ' Mind and tell the 
 bellman when ye tryst my grave to be sure and ha'e 
 the place a' in readiness when I come forrit ; for the 
 last burial I was at he wasna finished when the 
 corpse cam' forrit, and we had to stand a gey twa-
 
 284 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 three minutes. Now I just gae hyte to need to wait 
 on ony body, and especially in a case o' that kind ; 
 and, look ye, a' them wha convoys me to the grave, 
 gi'e them a fourpenny pie and a drink o' porter ; and 
 after payiu' everything connected wi' the burial, 
 divide penny about, but gi'e the bellman an imperial 
 half-gill, as he wadna gi'e thankye for porter.' 
 
 "Now, wasn't it curious, although that creature 
 got siccan instructions about his father's grave, that 
 he should ha'e forgotten his ain wife's; but the 
 creature had been on the road to the bellman's when 
 he met wi' his auld acquaintance Pate M'Doll, and 
 the heart o' him had been uplifted about tin- wife 
 slippin' awa', and he had got twa pound to bury her, 
 and was takin' as muckle aff the fore end o't as 
 wad bury ony grief that wad be hingin' about the 
 memory o' him, and the drams had shortened his 
 recollection o' duty. He's a queer thoughtless tiling. 
 I think he would really ha'e been man- grieved had 
 the ass deid instead o' the wife. He'll get a new 
 wife readier than a new ass !"
 
 CHAPTER XLVIL 
 
 PUTTING ON THE WIG. 
 
 RUSTIC character may have abrupt points, yet it 
 always tells in a picture. Countrymen of the 
 old school told their tale or said their say in fewer 
 words, and with a firmer build, than our modern 
 refinement can accomplish. They had in ordinary 
 intercourse with each other a straightforward way of 
 speaking. What used to be termed " simmering and 
 wintering" wf a story was detested. "Gaunaboot 
 the bush," or " wheejeein'," were terms used against 
 long-winded speechmakers ; besides, a suspicion stood 
 against the story-teller that truth was deficient in the 
 tale that took ower lang to tell. To speak well out 
 is essential in country life, as individuals are often 
 working far from each other, and with some it 
 becomes a habit to talk loud always. 
 
 I had an old acquaintance who was widely known 
 and much respected. His voice in conversation could 
 easily be heard across a ten-acre field. He had no 
 secrets. I was employed at one time to paint his 
 portrait. His remarks on every subject he touched 
 were pointed, pleasant, and simple. He had a whole-
 
 286 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER 
 
 some hatred at inquisitive folk or those wha meddled 
 wi' things that didna lie in their way. He was what 
 I termed a bonnie auld man : sunshine seemed always 
 playing in his face. His hair had left his cranium, 
 saving a delicate specimen that, like the last rose of 
 summer, gave evidence where hair had been, and 
 from the back of his crown this delicate specimen 
 was brought forward by each temple and met in 
 front of his venerable face. While bringing forward 
 the portrait it was essential to keep the head bare, 
 finishing it in that way before putting any hair on. 
 The little he had was so thin and silky that the least 
 overloading would have destroyed the likeness. 
 
 An acquaintance came in to see us as we proceeded, 
 and, like other far-seen folk, had to let you know that 
 he at least saw farther than you, being blessed with 
 a good eye, and could tell you that there was yet 
 something wanting. I said to him that it was the 
 hair. Oh, no ; hair could not supply the want he 
 saw. It was something else, but he could not exactly 
 see or say what it was. I gave the thin film with 
 one sweep of the brush as he stood looking on, when 
 he gave a great shout " That's it ! Let it alane noo, 
 else ye'll spoil't!" Then the notes of admiration 
 came from him as to the great discovery he had 
 made, as if he had really done the work instead of 
 only seeing it done. " Weel," said he, " that's some- 
 tiling I ha'e seen the day. What a sma' touch mak's 

 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEK. 287 
 
 sic a change in the expression o' a picture. That 
 wee touch has really changed the whole man !" My 
 auld Men' said sharply to him, " It ought at the 
 same time to change your whole man also, and teach 
 you never to pass an opinion on ony subject you ken 
 naething aboot." " But look, man, I couldna ha'e 
 thought that sic a thin tift o' hair could ha'e made 
 sic a change in every ither part o' the expression." 
 " Ou, aye," quo' my auld frien' ; " it's me that kens 
 the effect o' a tift o' hair; even a change o' claise 
 will alter every feature o' your face." " I canna see 
 exactly how a change o' claise can affect the features." 
 "Aweel, you maun get anither lesson yet. I ken, 
 and ha'e proven it, baith to my ain and ither folk's 
 satisfaction. 
 
 "When I was somewhat younger than I am now 
 I was fond o' a shot ; I was a keen killer. I dinna 
 ken what ither folk ca' sport, but I gaed out for game, 
 and considered that I had nae sport unless I brought 
 something in wi' me. I had nae great breadth o' 
 ground o' my ain, and I had killed up everything in 
 the shape o' game on my ain property, or else had 
 frichted it aff to that o' my neighbour, an auld 
 miserably-disposed creature, wha wad neither kill a 
 hare himsel' nor wad he let onybody else do it. I 
 got into the habit, when he wad be awa' to the town 
 on a Friday, o' takin' a step ower the dyke into ane 
 o' his parks and bringin' hame a hare wi' me. It's a
 
 288 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 curious thing habit: you are very apt to get ower 
 confident. One market-day he passed my place in 
 the morning, and in the blandest manner he says, 
 'Weel, James, are ye no for the market the day?' 
 I said that ance the day were a wee farrer on I wad 
 tak' a step yont; and the auld chield steppit awa' 
 just like the picture o' innocence, and I, like a 
 scoonrel, was plannin' to tak' a hare aff his grun' 
 before I gaed yont. Aweel, for that purpose, as soon 
 as I thought he was far enough out o' sight an' 
 hearin', I into the house, got the shot-bag o'er my 
 shouther, down wi' the gun, and got the dog out, and 
 alang the march between my neighbour's ground and 
 my own till I cam' to a bit that was easy to scale. 
 So, without thinkin' or lookin', I jumped ower the 
 dyke into his property, and there stood the auld chap 
 alang wi' twa o' his men-servants. They stood out 
 foment me, and looked straight at me without 
 speakin'. 
 
 "After the auld chield had passed my door, to put 
 me aff the scent, he had turned round a bye-path and 
 back here to wait my presence, and fairly caught me. 
 I saw that I was in for't. I neither spoke nor looked 
 at them though they glowred weel at me, but I ower 
 the dyke again and hame ; aff wi' my auld coat as 
 quick as I could, on wi' anither, and aff to the town. 
 I had the sense to ha'e as mony folk to see me with 
 this coat on as possible, for I could ca' on them as
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 289 
 
 witnesses to say that it wasna my checked coat I had 
 on that day when I was at the market. I wasna 
 lang in the town till I saw the auld chap go direct 
 to the Fiscal's office, and next day I had a libel 
 summons chargin' me wi' every conceivable way of 
 killing game on my neighbour's grun'. It made me 
 really think very little o' mysel' ; and to think that 
 I was done for by my own greed was the ugly feelin'. 
 I employed friends and neighbours to try and make a 
 compromise wi' the auld fellow, but ' No.' He said 
 that he had got my head in the loop, and he would 
 mak' an example o' me before the world. 
 
 " I had done wrong, but I thought that he followed 
 me up in a bad spirit, and I wad just resist him in 
 as bad. So to the court we went; and I rather 
 astonished the auld chap when with a face o' brass I 
 stood up and denied the charge, declaring at the same 
 time that it was an easy affair when my back was 
 turned for ony of my servants to put on my clothes, 
 tak' my dog and gun, and go over on my neighbour's 
 property a thing I was very sorry for. If any of 
 them should so far forget true dignity, hurt his 
 feelings, and throw him into needless expense and 
 trouble for nae good end, I should be sorry indeed. 
 This rather astonished him. He was determined to 
 land me into expenses, and had the case lifted to 
 Edinburgh, where it soon took on a handsome ac- 
 cumulation of expenses by the different jerks and
 
 290 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 shapes he hurried it through. One hundred and 
 twenty pounds were now either to be paid by him or 
 me, and the case was remitted to the court where it 
 started ; and if his two witnesses would swear that 
 it was me who came over the hedge into their 
 master's property, then decree was to go against me 
 for sixteen shillings and eightpence trespass, and one 
 hundred and twenty pounds sterling of expenses on 
 the same. 
 
 " Here was a business. It really was a blue look- 
 out for me, but I had put a face on't up to this date, 
 and must not blush at testing the last look of it. I 
 had some little acquaintance with the judge who was 
 to preside that day, and had a crack with him on the 
 subject. I showed him my plan of defence, and 
 wished him to give me a chance. I kept my scheme 
 wholly between myself and the judge. The day 
 came. I walked into court side by side with my 
 antagonist, his lawyer, my lawyer, and a number o' 
 decent folk wha had come out o' curiosity to witness 
 the decision which hung on such a slender thread. 
 This was the first time his witnesses were to be 
 tested, and nobody thought that I had a shadow of a 
 chance. My own lawyer had no hope ; in fact, there 
 seemed nothing to hang a doubt on. I had the 
 identical old clothes on which I wore that day I 
 leapt the hedge. 
 
 "I went into the witness -room where the two
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAKACTEK. 291 
 
 servants were who were to swear to my identity. 
 They sat well back from me. I had arranged with 
 the judge to let me know ten minutes before I was 
 wanted, and the court crier was only to look in at 
 the door as the hint. I had a bottle of water in the 
 witness-room with me ; I took a hearty swig out of 
 it, and after a wee began to glower across the room 
 at my twa friends the witnesses. Then after a wee I 
 took aff the whole contents of the bottle, and fell aff 
 the form which I had been sittin' on, and rowed on 
 the floor till I got near to the door. The ominous 
 look was given, and, unperceived by the two 
 swearers, I got out. I had a tailor frae Glasgow in 
 waitin', who put in quick time a veneer on me : A 
 sky-blue coat, with clear buttons on it; a yellow 
 vest, bound with black ribbon; nankeen trousers; 
 and, to crown all, on my bald head a fashionable 
 wig! With light dress-shoes on my feet, after 
 putting off my heavy tacketed boots, my step was as 
 light on the floor as that of an apparition. With 
 some slips of paper in one hand, both of which I had 
 encased in yellow gloves, I entered the court-room 
 and took my seat between my antagonist and my 
 own lawyer! The first witness against me was 
 called. He was sworn. I was requested to stand 
 up. He was asked, 'Do .you say that it was this 
 gentleman who came over the hedge into your 
 master's field ? ' No, no.' ' Who do you say it was ?'
 
 292 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 ' It was James Orr.' The other witness was called ; 
 put through the same questions, with the same result. 
 He would not look at me ; lie swore that it was 
 James Orr who came over the hedge, and that he 
 was lying drunk in the witnesses' room. 
 
 "Then the judge, with great gravity, said to my 
 pursuer, ' This case is this day decided against you, 
 sir. You pay your own expenses. James Orr set 
 up his defence that it was possible that some of his 
 servants might put on his clothes in his absence, and 
 the witnesses might be mistaken. Here is James 
 Orr in person, and they do not know him !' 
 
 "I made a most gracious bow to the court, and 
 another to my pursuer, who thought at first that it 
 was fun ; and although he himself did not know me, 
 he flew at his witnesses to kick them with his feet 
 for not knowing me. It was a good while before he 
 could recognize the fact that the decision was against 
 him. The metamorphosis was so complete that I'm 
 sure, sir, although my own mother had been in life 
 she would not have known me either. So you will 
 observe that I know something of the power of a 
 little hair on the head, either for taking away or 
 bringing out the expression. That is one reason 
 why ladies' portraits are never so like as men's. 
 Ladies often dress themselves so far away from every 
 common-place look that their nearest friends are 
 doubtful of them ; and the auld wife when she got a
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTEE. 293 
 
 glass ower muckle didna ken hersel', but sang ' This 
 is no me !' Eeally there's mony a way o' changing 
 the character o' the outward man."
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 WONNERFU* SATISFACTION : AN AYRSHIRE STORY. 
 
 THIS is one of a class of stories told by a 
 character that's now rare to be met with: 
 thoroughly earnest, single-hearted, and kindly to 
 those he likes; has his likings and dislikings in 
 spite of himself; attends church regularly, where he 
 always sees some lass that he would like to speak to 
 yet sees also some ass o' a man not far frae her 
 that disturbs him, because he knows something of 
 him that's offensive ; falls often deeply in love, yet 
 never marries ; often thinks he will, but would like 
 "anither hunder" first; resolved and re-resolved in 
 that way till he died worth three thousand pounds. 
 He was a queer mixture : hard without being greedy; 
 knew how to make a friend feel at home, and did so 
 at a cheap yet wholesome rate. He had been a 
 country servant in his youth, and prided himself on 
 being able to keep alongside of any man at any kind 
 of labour. 
 
 At one time he was in service not far frae Stewar- 
 ton. His master, like himself, was a young man and
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 295 
 
 unmarried. They wrought often ( together, and were 
 about a tie. Each considered himself full as good- 
 looking as the other where female decision was to be 
 the test; and, rather unfortunately for the servant, 
 he had at one time come into contact with his 
 master's sweetheart. At that time it was considered 
 daring impudence for a ploughman to fancy himself 
 an equal to a farmer's daughter. As my friend had 
 no notion of marrying exactly at this time, he 
 withdrew his suit in favour of his master. One 
 Friday night, as ill luck would have it, his master 
 came home from Kilmarnock fashed with something 
 like a dizziness. He had another farmer's son along 
 with him. They were going to a meeting of friends 
 at his sweetheart's father's, and before they started 
 they had a little more of the unsteady mixture. The 
 young stranger sickened and went to bed, and my 
 friend advised his master to lie down beside him, but 
 the offer of his servant was construed into a wish to 
 seem wiser than himself, and only roused his deter- 
 mination to go ; and go he would, and on foot too. 
 He made an effort at washing and dressing, and took 
 the road under cloud of night. Many were the side 
 breezings and tumblings by the way, the careful 
 servant-man following at a respectful distance, like 
 his master's guardian angel, unseen though near. It 
 was a beautiful picture to look on, that of the man in 
 after years repeating the care which he took of his
 
 296 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 master by the way ; and sure he was that his master 
 would have died that very night had it not been for 
 him. Although thirty years had passed between the 
 event and the first time I heard liim tell it, he licked 
 his lips with a gusto as fresh as if it had only 
 happened yestreen. 
 
 His own foibles had such a flavour with him, that 
 to see and hear him rehearse any phase of his past 
 life was ever new. As to saving his master's life, 
 he followed him through several fields a sort of 
 steeple-chase or near cut to the house of liis sweet- 
 heart. In climbing over a gate instead of opening it, 
 the tipsy lover fell souse in the dirt, which so stunned 
 him tliat to keep the perpendicular afterwards proved 
 n failure, and the effort ended in his playing clash in 
 a dyke sheugh. There he lay gurgling aiaang the 
 glaur ; " and but for me he must soon have died S" 
 said my friend. " I think he was the most helpless 
 specimen o' a human being I ever handled, for I 
 couldua see him. I lifted him out, and swithered for 
 a wee what I wad do wi' him. He was a splorin' 
 sort o' a goose, and was always great before his 
 sweetheart. It struck me that I would like to let 
 her see the difference between him and me that 
 night. He had a fine new fashionable hat on his 
 head, but wi' fa'in', it had altered its shape, yielding 
 to circumstances. It had got some dunkles wi' his 
 fa'in', but I took it aff his head and put it through a
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CEAKACTER. 297 
 
 new process. I put my knee in the inside o't broad- 
 sidewise, and made the banes o't play crash like an 
 auld creel ; then cloured in the croon o't, and broke 
 it into angles more picturesque than genteel; and 
 put it on his head broadside foremost, something as 
 Daft Eab Hamilton used to wear his. Man, he was 
 as supple as a wet sark. His coat had been split 
 up the back a bit wi' his tumblin' on the road, and 
 to improve it, I tore it up to the neck ; and as the 
 tails were a' glaur, I _ took them and gied his face a 
 dight, first ae way and then the ither, like cross- 
 harrowing it. Even in the dark it brought out what 
 you would have ca'd a queer expression. Then I 
 brought ane o' the tails through below his oxter, and 
 the ither ane o'er his shouther, and tied them in 
 front, and brought him out to a dry place, and let 
 him lie till I ran to the farm-house whaur he was 
 expected, and in an excited state speer'd if I could 
 get ane o' the servants and a handbarrow, for there 
 was something like a man lying out_ a wee bit frae 
 the house, and I thought that he was deein'. 
 
 A lanthorn and a barrow were got, and I led the 
 way to whaur the sot, my master, was lying dressed 
 for the party ! And here were maist o' the party 
 turned out to see him, and amang the rest was his 
 sweetheart. I carried the lanthorn, and kept close 
 to her, for I had a strong wish to let her see him to 
 the best advantage. We reached the spot, and there
 
 298 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 lay iny foundling in a dead sleep. I gaed round 
 about him, and keepit the light skinklin on him, 
 bringing out every daft-like expression that was in 
 him. Naebody kent him. We were to bring him 
 into the house out o' skaith. I ha'e busket potato- 
 bogles and scarecraws, but sic a daft-like figure as 
 yon I never saw. I was thoroughly satisfied with 
 the finish that I had put on him. There was a sim- 
 plicity in the ridiculousness of the whole man. His 
 appearance was perfect. We put him on the barrow, 
 and twa men-servants belanging to the house c; 
 him, and I took care to keep him frae falling oft", and 
 at the same time I took care to keep his hat in the 
 right shape till we got him into the house, whaur he 
 was laid down on the kitchen floor before a nice big 
 fire. The place was filled with the guests, amang 
 whom he should have been, and yet here was he, the 
 centre of attraction, and neither he nor them kent it. 
 Ane o' the servant lasses began to wash the dirt aff 
 his face wi' a wet dishclout, when I made as pretty 
 a start as if I had been acting Hamlet and had seen 
 my father's ghost for the first time. I shouted, 
 clenching my hands thegither, ' My master !' It took 
 the whole company by surprise at the same moment. 
 A drunk body has no idea how helpless he looks, 
 even without being busket ; but if my master had not 
 disfigured his humanity, he would not have put it in 
 my power to have done my part o' the performance.
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHAEACTEK. 299 
 
 But, man, it afforded me wonnerfu' satisfaction. 
 Even yet I see him as vividly as at the moment I 
 held the lanthorn to his benighted face."
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 INCREASING THE TRAFFIC. 
 ( Dedicated to my friend, ffuyh Conn, KUwinniny.) 
 
 DEAR SIR, This chapter is introduced at your 
 request. When Wallace of Kelly first lectured 
 to us in Kilmaniock on cheap literature, and showed 
 us an American newspaper at three bawbees, bigger 
 than the ordinary run o' bedcovers, in which there 
 were upwards o' thirteen hundred advertisements, 
 forby political statements which durst hardly be 
 expressed in this kintra at the time ; and when he 
 informed us that they had bawbee anes at that time 
 as big as our aughtpenny anes, we glowred in sur- 
 prise, never thinkin' that onything o' the kind wad 
 ever visit this corner o' the globe. Yet it is mar- 
 vellous to think how a sma' hint may take effect. 
 It was through his labours, in concert with Sir 
 Rowland Hill's, that we got the penny postage on 
 letters established; and as we grew into a paper 
 world, rnair rags were in requisition, and they were 
 ill to get. Mony a scheme was tried to bring unid 
 bits o' clouts frae their hiding-places. The wt-;n;s 
 were enlisted in the traffic, as also in the bone and
 
 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 301 
 
 auld iron traffic. The smallest donation or fragment 
 of either was thankfully received, and paid for in 
 candy currency. Some wee merchants would come 
 toddlin' to the street wi' sma'er scraps than Gather- 
 away had currency for. Sweetie Aleck came forth 
 as a rival to Gutheraway. He left the herring barrel 
 and entered on the rag traffic. It required a sharp 
 eye to see how he dealt with the small parcels, or 
 rather, how he paid for them. When the merchant 
 came with a smaller bit of ware than the treacle 
 currency could represent in solid, a lick or smack 
 was at hand; Aleck had a bit of gundy, glassy, or 
 blackman (the stuff was known by any or all of 
 these names) stuck on his thumb as far up as the 
 first joint; and you would have thought, to look at 
 him, that he was putting the little darling out of his 
 way as he introduced the point of his thumb into its 
 little mouth, supporting it in the erect figure by 
 keeping his other hand at the back of its head while 
 enjoying the syrupified consolidated currency. How 
 its little eyes would look at its less fortunate brothers 
 or sisters who were out of the pale of pleasure if it so 
 happened that the whole interior of the masticating 
 cavity were rubbed with the charmed thumb ! This 
 was a sort of payment there was no fighting about, 
 as no part of it could be given away. 
 
 Aleck's customers looked on him as a man in 
 advance of his time. Some of them might be in-
 
 302 LIFE STUDIES OF CHARACTER. 
 
 duced to believe that to him we owe the privilege of 
 the bawbee stamp for the newspaper of the present 
 day, which is a great boon to the man with the light 
 purse. Instead of standing back and looking on in 
 ignorant vacancy, he "can now get a taste of the 
 intellectual thumb at a cheap rate. Highly-paid 
 preachers were afraid that vile literature would be 
 scattered broadcast ower the face of society were the 
 bawbee paper to find favour with the people. But 
 they now see that all their dark prophecies were a 
 -mistake. Not only have we got a cheap press that 
 is a credit to the country, but the penny papers are 
 scattered over the British dominions at the low charge 
 of a bawbee. Some sheets of this book have been 
 transmitted through the post at the bawbee rate, for 
 which boon I insert a vote of thanks to the Govern- 
 ment that could so sensibly stoop to take a hint frae 
 Sweetie Aleck
 
 fjt* 
 
 Of absent friends, who were representative 
 
 subscribers to the Retrospect of an 
 
 Artist's Life. 
 
 SIR JOHN SHAW, London. 
 
 D. O. HILL, Edinburgh. 
 
 JOHN FISHER, Glasgow. 
 
 WILLIAM FULTON, Paisley. 
 
 WILLIAM DOBIE, Beith. 
 WILLIAM KNOX, Kilbirnie. 
 
 MAXWELL DICK, Irvine. 
 
 Those men, while living, possessed hearts. 
 They yet live in many hearts.
 
 As with my last breath, I close this 
 lx)ok \vith best wishes for the prosperity 
 of patrons, reviewers, and friends, coupling 
 thuir names with that of my faithful and 
 esteemed friend, the Rev. WILLIAM HOWIE 
 WlLtt
 
 BB 
 
 mmi