150

A WHOLE MAGAZINE AT FIVE SITTINGS.

North. Chimes me down to the parlour

Shepherd. Nae mair aboot your domestic economy, sirYou're gettin egotustical.

North. I wrote "Christopher in his Sporting Jacket,"1 James-forty pages of Maga-at two such sittings.

Shepherd. I dinna believe you-though you should swear't on the Bible.

North. At five such sittings I have more than once written-with this hand

Shepherd. And a lang-fingered, bony, ghaunt, formidablelookin haun it is-like the haun o' grim death-clutchinNorth. Written the whole Magazine-an entire Number,2 James

Shepherd. And a desperate bad ane it must hae been

North. No, James-brilliant as the Aurora Borealismusical as is Apollo's lute.

Shepherd. And that's the way ye serve your contributors! Flingin their capital articles intil the Balaam-box, that your ain trash may

North. Trash! What the devil do you mean by trash, sir? Shepherd. I just mean a hantle o' your ain articles,-especially them that you're fondest and proudest o'-sic as "Streams" " "_" Hints for Holidays" North. Oh! James-James-that genius should be thus debased by jealousy

Cottages"

Shepherd. Me jealous o' you? That's a gude ane. But what for didna you send me out a' the Anuwals o' the year as you promised? I hate folk that promises and ne'er performs.

North. By the rule of contraries, my character to a tittle. I promise nothing-and perform everything. But the reason, James, was, that I had not them to send. The Keepsake I have not got yet-but I have Mr Alaric Watts' Souvenir in my pocket-there,-well caught, ye cricketer. Ay, you may well turn up your eyes in admiration-for of all the embellish1 See Recreations of Christopher North, vol. i. p. 1; or Blackwood's Magazine, No. CXLIII.

2 In some of the "double" Numbers of Blackwood's Magazine, Professor Wilson wrote as much as would have filled one Number or more-for instance, in the double Numbers for August 1830 and May 1834; but he never wrote any one whole continuous Number.

4 Ibid., No. CX.

3 Blackwood's Magazine, No. CXI. 5 Ibid., Nos. CXIV., CXVI., CXVII.

LESLY'S PORTRAIT OF SCOTT.

151

ments-of all the engravings I ever beheld, these are the most exquisitely beautiful.

Shepherd. Sir Walter? Ma faith! The thing's dune at last. The verra man himsel, as if you were lookin at him through the wrang end o' a telescope! Only see his hauns! The big, fat, roun', firm back o' his hauns! I should hae said in an instant-that's Sir Walter-had I seen nae mair than just by themsels thae hauns! Hoo are ye, Sir Walter? Hoo are ye, sir? I'm glad to see ye lookin sae weel. Naam na I a fule, Mr North, to be speakin till an eemage, as if it were-Lord bless him-the verra leevin glory o' Scotland?

North. I request posterity to be informed, that Lesly's is the best likeness of Sir Walter Scott ever achieved-face, figure, air, manner-all characteristically complete. Lesly is a genuine genius-so is Stephanoff.

Shepherd. And is the writin in the Souvenir gude, sir?

North. Excellent. Taken altogether, the volume is a formidable rival, competitor, or compeer, to the Anniversary

Shepherd. In leeterature-my cry has ever been-Free Tredd, Free Tredd. If the Keepsake beats the beauty o' the Souvenir, she may change her name into the Phoenix or the Bird o' Paradise.

North. Pocket the affront, James.

Shepherd. Hae you made me a present o't, sir, outricht? You hae!-then alloo me to treat you wi' the eisters at my ain expense.

North. To purchase the Souvenir in oysters! Oh! the horrid thought!

I

Shepherd. Rax me ower that newspaper, my dear sir, that may wrap it

North. Nay, we must not destroy Mr Ambrose's Courier. Shepherd. Is that the Coureer? It's the best paper, the Coureer, o' the haill set.

North. There cannot be a better paper, James-but there may be as good-and the Standard is so-the two together, well studied, may set a young Member of Parliament up in politics. Both true to the backbone. "Alike—yet oh, how different!" Mr Street is a man of great talents—and Mr Gifford an admirable writer. As for the Doctor

Shepherd. He hasna his match in a' England, I'm sure, for wut, satire, and fun, and deevil tak me if he's no also a maist

poo'rfu reasoner. Wut and Intellect are twun-brithers, and sae like that, but for a sort o' smile native to the face o' the first, I'll defy you to tell the ane frae the ither!

North. These are my Evening Papers, James; and my Morning ones are the Morning Post, always full of news of the fashionable world, and excellent and able in its politics-the Morning Journal, most spirited and vigorous-the Morning Herald, miscellaneous to a most amusing degree, and teeming with various matter-the Morning Chronicle-you know the worthy editor, Mr Black,' James?

Shepherd. A fine fallow-gin he werena a Whig-and a great freen o' dear Gray's2

North. Of itself a good sign of his heart;-but though a Whig, not a bitter one,-and, though rather lengthy, a writer of much talent and information.

Shepherd. Do you no read The auld Times?

North. What! not read the Leading Journal of Europe? Daily. Inexplicable altogether in its political machinery, I admire the strength and audacity of the bold old Times. I also see that moderate and very able paper, the Globe.

Shepherd. Faith there's the Embro' Saturday Evening Post turnin out a maist capital paper. There's smeddum yonner, Mr North.

of one

The pen leading articles, coadjutors are though young A true Tory.

North. There is smeddum yonder, James. first-rate writer may be weekly traced in its and occasionally elsewhere-and some of his apparently men of power and principle. It has —a good circulation, and is sure to succeed. Shepherd. What's the real bonny feedy state o' the case, sir, the noo, wi' what's ca'd the Question o' Catholic Emancipawtion? Tickler (yawning out of a profound sleep). Hollo! where am 1? Who are you, gentlemen, intruding on a sober citizen's privacy at this hour of the night? I say, who are you? Shepherd. He thinks himsel at hame.—I really had nae notion, sir, that Mr Tickler was sae soon made fou?

Tickler. Made fou?-Heavens! at Ambrose's!

1 The translator of Schlegel's Dramatic Literature. Mr Black was a man of high character in his profession; and the London newspaper press, with which he was connected during many years, owed much of its weight to the energy and versatility of his talents. He died in 1855.

2 See ante, vol. i. p. 238, note 1.

QUESTION OF CATHOLIC EMANCIPATION.

153

Shepherd. At Awmrose's sure aneuch. You've been sleepin this twa hours, sir, wi' your mouth wide open-and it required great forbearance no to put a half-lemon into your mouth. I would hae dune't, had ye snored-but as ye didna snore

nane

Tickler. I have awoke to all my "aitches!"

Shepherd. When you gang hame, let me recommend you to get a flannel petticoat frae ane o' the servant lassies, and wrap it roun' your chowks.1

Tickler. Oh! I am in great pain, James! Let me lie down on the sofa.

Shepherd. Do sae- -do sae- -but dinna snore nane. Weel, Mr North, what's the bonny feedy state o' the case, wi' what's ca'd the Question o' Catholic Emancipawtion? You dinna think it 'ill be carried or conciliated?

North. Unquestionably, James, there is a belief among certain circles that think themselves well informed, with respect to authentic rumours of intended measures of Government, that something is to be done for the Catholics in next Session of Parliament. One cannot dine out without having much sickening stuff of the sort dinned into his ears. But the nation has the Duke of Wellington's word for it-that nothing will be done for the Catholics in the next Session of Parliament. Shepherd. Has it?

North. Yes, the Duke of Wellington said, in his simple strong style, in the House, that "if they kept quiet perhaps something might be done for them;" but they have not kept quiet; and, therefore, certainly nothing will be done for them next Parliament.2

Shepherd. Quiet, indeed! ay-ay-there's different kinds o' quiet, as the Duke, nae dout, kens as weel as aither you or me, Mr North.

North. True, James. The French Marshals in Spain used to keep quiet-sometimes for weeks and months at a timebut the great Lord, for all that, lay asleep in his position like a lion with his eyes open,—and on an alarm, in half-an-hour the whole British army had been in order of battle.

Shepherd. A toon coof, comin intil the kintra, and kennin o'

1 Chowks-jaws.

2 Something, however, was done for them next Parliament. The Catholic Emancipation Bill was passed in 1829.

154

IMAGERY APPLICABLE TO IRELAND.

coorse naething at a' aboot the symptoms o' the atmosphere, having contented himsel a' his life wi' noticin the quicksilver in his glass, and in spite o' a' its daily deceits keepit still payin the maist shamefu' deference to its authority,-a toon coof, I say, sir, coming intil the Forest, cocks his ee up to the heavens, without attendin to what airt the wind blaws frae, and prophesying a fine, clear, dry, breezy day, whustles out Ponto, and awa to the hill after the groose. The lift looked, he thocht, sae cawm, the weather sae settled! There was a cawm in heaven, nae dout-a dead cawm. But then far aff on the weather-gleam, there was a froonin, threatenin, sullen, sulky, dark, dismal, dour expression o' face in the sky-no the less fearsome 'cause o' the noo and then glimmerin out o' something like a grim ghastly smile, as if it were stifled lichtnin; ahint the cloud that noo lies black and dense on the towerin mountain, is heard first a sighthen a groan-then a growl-then a clap-and then a rattle o' thunder, till earth shakes wi' a' her quiverin woods, and the lochs are seen tumbling a' afoam in the levin!—a deluge droons the misty hills-and doun come the hay-rucks, or the corn-stooks, wi' aiblins a human dwellin or twa-sailing alang the meadows, in which the main course o' the Tweed is lost as in a sea,- -sae sudden, sae red and sae roaring is the spate, that sweeps the vale o' half its harvest, and leaves farmer, hind, and shepherd in ruin.

North. Strong as your imagery is, James, and vivid-most vivid your picture,—it is neither overcharged, nor in one point inapplicable.

Shepherd. I'm sure it's no, sir. Then let nae man tell me that seven million o' Eerishmen-for if there were sax million at the last Noctes, they'll be seven noo-will ever keep a cawm sugh-unless when they're brewin mischief. I would despise them if they did, frae the bottom o' my heart—and I'm far frae despisin the Eerish, wha, but for priests and priestcraft, would be, certes, a glorious people.

Tickler. Why, according to that rule of judgment, James, you suspect them alike, whether they are tame or tumultuous. Shepherd. Ye maunna argue wi' me, Mr Tickler; fa' asleep -for, wi' a' your poo'rs' o' reasonin, I'll set ye doun, and nail your coat-tails to the chair, so as you'll no be able to get up

1 Poo'rs-powers.