ODOHERTY. He is getting crustier and crustier every day.-One can scarcely get him to put in the least puff now, merely to oblige a friend. Ebony does not like to speak to him on the subject, particularly when his gout is flying about in this horrid way; but entre nous, he is by no means satisfied with old Christopher. He seldom or never mentions any of Blackwood's books, which to me, Ì must own, seems deuced unfair. But he's so capricious, the old cockThere is Gilbert Earle, now, a really clever thing too-but that ought to have been nothing, either here or there, when I asked him so small a favour. I sent him one of the handiest little articles on Master Gilbert you ever saw, and, by Jupiter, back it came by return of the caddie, with just this scrawled on the top in red ink, or beet-root sauce, I rather think." Out upon Novels"-these were the words of the Carmudgeon. Out upon Novels! keep us a'! HOGG. TICKLER. Gad! I almost sympathize with Christopherus-there positively is too great a crop-but sans phrase, now, what sort of a concern is this same Gilbert Earle? ODOHERTY. Why, it is a work of real talent-I assure you 'pon honour it is a very clever work indeed-and besides, it is published by Knight, a lad for whom I have a particular regard-Tis a most melancholy tale-both the subject and the style are after Adam Blair, but that does not prevent the author's exhibiting great and original talent in many of the descriptions.-By the by, he would suit you exactly in one thing, Hogg. Such a hand for describing a pretty woman, has not often fallen in your way, I calculate. Upon my soul, I'm not very inflammable you know, and yet some of his pieces of this kind almost took away my breath-But read the book, lads, for yourselves-ask for "Some account of the late Gilbert Earle, Esq.," written by himself, and published by Mr Knight. You will find the author to be one of these true fellows who blend true pathos with true luxury. Some of his bits, by the by, may have caught your eye already, for he published one or two specimens of the affair in the Album. TICKLER. A clever and gentlemanlike periodical, which I am truly sorry to find stopped-at least I suppose it is so, for I have not lately heard the name. There were some capital contributors to that concern. ODOHERTY. I believe North has now enlisted some of the best of them; but not the author of the said Gilbert Earle, he being a Whig. He is a devilish nice lad, however, for all that. TICKLER. I perceive, ODoherty, that you have no notion of impartial criticism. You always sit down with a fixed resolution to abuse a fellow up hill and down dale, or else to laud him to the Empyrean. I suspect you are capricious as to these matters. ODOHERTY. Not at all. I always abuse my enemies, and puff my friends. So do all the rest of the lads "of the wE," if they had the candour to confess things—but that they have not, wherefore let perdition be their portion. I, for my part, have no hesitation in avowing that I consider Burns's best, truest, and most touching line to be, 66 They had been fu' for weeks together." How could one hesitate about puffing him whose cigar-case has never been closed upon his fingers? Do you know why Jeffrey has been so severe of late upon Doctor Southey? TICKLER. Impertinence, that's all-though I admit there is a pretty considerable d―d deal of humbug about him (ut yankice loquar.) ODOHERTY. The reason of Jeffrey's spleen is obvious. The laureate invited him to tea! -invite a literary character of rank to a dish of catlap, and a thin, scraggy, dry, butter-brodt, as the Germans call it, in their superb and now popularish dialect. Why, there's no saying what might have happened, had he set down the little man to a plate of hot kipper, or some nice fried trouts, and then a bowl of cold punch, or a bottle of sauterne or markebrunner. That is the way to treat an editor of that magnitude, when he calls on you in your country house in the evening of a fine summer's day-more particularly when, as I believe Jeffrey's case really was, the said editor has dined at an earlier hour than he is accustomed to, and when, as I also understand to have been the fact on this occasion, the lad is evidently quite sober. In such circumstances the notion of the tea was a real betise. Southey was always a spoon; but I wonder Coleridge could sit by without recollecting what sort of an appearance it would have, and tipping Betty a hint to bring in the broth. HOGG. The broth! Het kail to the four hours, Captain? ODOHERTY. Was Broth the word I used. I have been in Glasgow lately, you know. It has the same meaning there with punch-cold lime and rum punch, I mean— the best liquifier, perhaps, that has yet been invented for this season of the year. I prefer it, I confess, both to Sangaree and Brandy Panny. These are morning tipples decidedly. TICKLER. Come, you're getting into your Maxim vein, I think. You are becoming a perfect Solomon of Soakers, Ensign. You should have called it the Code ODoherty, sir, and produced it at once in a handy, little, juridical-looking, punchy double duodecimo. The work would be much referred to. ODOHERTY. I am great in my legislatorial capacity, I admit. Nothing equal to me in my own department. As Byron has expressed it, I am at present The Grand Napoleon of the realm of punch, or, rather, it should be of paunch, for of late I've been patronizing both sides of the victualling office. TICKLER. Yes, you've been poaching in every corner of Kitchener's preserve. By the way, how does the Doctor take up with your interference? ODOHERTY. Oh! admirably-We understand each other thoroughly. Kitchener-his name, by the by, settles all disputes about the doctrine of predestinationKitchener is a prime little fellow-an excellent creature as earth contains. Why, here's a man that has written three or four of the very best books our age hath witnessed, as the puff-maker says; and what's far better, my hearties, he gives one of the very best feeds going-quite the dandy-such sauces! By jingo, I admire a man of this stamp. HOGG. Deil doubts you-Wha doesna admire them that can give ye baith a gude book and a gude dinner? For my part, I admire a man that gives me the bare bit dinner, just itsell, without ony books. ODOHERTY. The bare bit dinner! Oh, you savage! You have no more right, sir, to open that cod's-mouth of yours, for the purpose of uttering one syllable on any subject connected with eating or drinking, than Macvey Napier has to mention Bacon, or Professor Leslie to stand for the Hebrew chair, or a Negro or a Phrenologist to be classed among the genus rationale.-The bare dinner! Oh, ye beast! HOGG. Some folk have a braw notion of themsells, Captain. ODOHERTY. If I could choose now-if I had Fortunatus's cap in good earnest-I'll tell you how I would do-By Jericho, I would breakfast with Lord Fife at Marr Lodge-Such pasties! such cakes! what a glorious set out, to be sure!-I should then keep stepping southwards-take my basin of mulligatawny and glass of cherry-brandy at Mrs Montgomery's here en passant-get on to Belvoir, or Burleigh, or some of these grand places on the road, in time for dinner, and tap just about twelve at the door of the Blue Posts-Prime whiskey-punch there, sirs. If you were here, I might probably trace back a bit so as to drop in upon your third bowl. HOGG. Hear to the craving ne'er-do-weel!-You'll not be a lang liver, I can tell you, Captain, if you go on at this rate. You ought to marry a wife, sir, and sit down for a decent, respectable head of a family-you've had your braw spell of devilry now. Marry some bit bonny body of an heiress, man, and turn ower a new leaf. ODOHERTY. With a gilt edge, you purpose. Well, I have some thoughts of the thing— the worst of it is, that I am getting oldish now, and deucedly nice and I really distrust myself too. I have serious apprehensions that I might turn out rather a quisquis sort of a Benedict. Hang it! I've been too long on the hill-they could never break me now-But I'll try some day-that's obvious. HOGG. You'll easily get an heiress, man, wi' that grand lang nose o' yours, and thae bonny, bonny legs, and that fine yellow curly head of hair. ODOHERTY, (aside.) Bond Street growth-but no matter. HOGG. And, aboon a', your leeterary name-Od, man, I ken twa leddies in the Cowgate that wad fain, fain have me to bring ye some night to your teaBonny birds, Captain-Will ye gang? You be skinned ! ODOHERTY. TICKLER. I'll tell you what my real views are, ODoherty. Hang it, I don't see why you should not take up a Scots Baronetcy as well as the Bishop of Winchester, or, as Johnny Murray called him, Mr Winton. I suppose this sort of concern don't stand one much higher than an Aberdeen degree. I really would have you think of it. Sir Morgan and Lady ODoherty request the honour Lady ODoherty's carriage stops the way!-Sir Morgan ODoherty's cabriolet !!-By Jove, the thing is arranged!-You must be a baronet, my dear Signifer. ODOHERTY. Hum!-Well, to oblige you, I shan't much object to such a trifle. How shall I set about it, then, Timothy ? TICKLER. Poo!-Find out that there was some ODoherty, of course there were many, -but no matter for that-in the army of M'Fadyen, the lad that flung his own head after Lieutenant-General Sir William Wallace, Baronet, K.T. and C.G.B. or in the armies of Montrose-which, by the by, were almost all of them Irish armies; secundo, Find out that this glorious fellow-being, of course, (as all gentlemen in those days were,) a Knight-Bachelor-had been once-no matter from what beastly ignorance, or from what low, fawning vulgarity, addressed as a Baronet. Then, tertio, have a few of us assembled at Ambrose's some day at five o'clock, and the job is done.-I myself have frequently acted as Chancellor.-I am quite au fait. ODOHERTY. Why, as to the first of these points, I have no doubt there must have been some ODoherties here in Montrose's time.-As to the second, it obviously must be so; and, as to the third, by Jupiter, name your day! TICKLER. This day three weeks-six o'clock sharp. I stipulate for a green goose, and a glass of your own genuine usquebaugh. ODOHERTY. Thou hast said it!-stinginess would ill beseem a man of my rank. I trust his Majesty the King of the Sandwich Islands will be here in time to join us. I am told he is a hearty cock. 10 TICKLER. To be serious-I was really amazed to see John Bull, honest lad, going into the Prettyman Humbug. It is very likely, indeed, that the worthy Bishop himself is by no means aware of the absurdity of the system under which he supposes himself to have acquired the orange ribbon of Nova Scotia. He has probably been led-but no matter, as to one particular case. The fact is, that, if they wished to give us a real boon, they ought to look to this subject-the people above stairs, I mean.-They ought to bring in a bill, requiring that the man who wishes to assume any title of honour in Scotland ought to do the same thing which the House of Lords demands when a man wishes to take up a peerage of Scotland. If that were done, the public would be satisfied, and the individual would be safe from that annoyance, to which he must be subjected so long as matters are managed in the present ridiculous and most unlawyer-like method. Why, only consider what it is that the jury (Heaven bless the name !) does in such a case. The claimant appears, and demands to be recognised as the heir of such a man, who died two, three, or four centuries ago. Well, he proves himself to have some blood relation to the defunct. The factio juris is, that when a man makes such a claim, those, if there be any, that have a better title-a nearer propinquity-will, of course, appear and shew fight; and, in the absence of any such appearance, the work of the said noble jury is at once finished. Now, in the case of a man making a claim, which, if allowed, will give him a certain number of acres, no doubt the chances are infinitesimally small, that any person, concerned from his own interests in the redarguing of the said claim, will fail to come forth to give battle. Nay, even in the case of a Scotchman, of a Scotch family well-known in the history, or at least in the records of the country, coming forward with a claim, the object of which is a mere honorary matter, such as a title of baronet, the chances are not very great, that, in a small nation, where everybody knows everybody, and where all are very much taken up about titular trifles,-the chances are not great, that even a claimant of this order will be allowed to walk the course: But in the case of an Englishman, of whose family nobody in Scotland ever heard a word, coming down, and wanting a title, to which nobody in Scotland can of course have any claim-in this case, no doubt, the most perfect apathy must prevail. The Bishop may be in the right; but I, and all the world besides, must continue to regard with suspicion the assumption of a title, the patent for which is not produced, unless the clearest evidence as to the tenor of the patent be produced. ODOHERTY. Then what is the Bishop's way to get out of the scrape? TICKLER. Why, in the present state of matters, I see but one. He ought to bring an action before the Court of Session against some friend of his, no matter about what, assuming the style of baronet in his “summons,” as we call it—that is, in his original writ. The friend may put in his objection to the style under which the Bishop sues, and then the Court will be open to hear him defend his right to use the said style. In this way the whole matter may be cleared up. HOGG. There's naebody cares ae boddle about sic matters-they're a' just clean havers. I own I do like to hear of a real grand auld name like the house of MARR being restored to their ain. That is a thing to please a Scottish heart. The Earl of Marr! There's not a nobler sound in Britain. TICKLER. Quite so, Hogg. But was ever such beastliness as Brougham's? Why, in seconding Peel's motion for dispensing with the personal appearance of an old gentleman of near ninety in London, what topic, think ye, does this glorious fellow dare to make the ground on which he (Brougham) solicits the indulgence of Parliament? Why, this-that Mr Erskine of Marr is distinguished for his liberal opinions!!! Egregious puppy! what had old Marr's politics to do with the matter? They are Whig, and so much the worse for him; but conceive only the bad taste the abominable taste of this fellow's lugging in the old man's whiggery as a recommendation of him to the House of Commons, at the very moment when the House was about to pass a bill conferring VOL. XVI. 5 A high honours on the old man-a bill originating, no doubt, in the high personal feelings of the King, but still owing its existence there to the support of the King's Tory ministers. Such insolence is really below all contempt. I wonder Peel did not give him a wipe or two in return. For cool, rancorous, deliberate impudence, give me, among all Whigs, Brougham! Only think of his daring, after all that has happened, to say one word in the House of Commons, when the topic before them referred, in any degree, however remote, to an act of generous and magnanimous condescension of that monarch, whom, on the Queen's trial, he and his friend Denman dared to speak of as, we can never forget, they did! ODOHERTY. I confess Brougham is a fine specimen.-By the way, what is all this piece of work about changes in your Scots Courts of Law? TICKLER. It is a piece of work originating in the by no manner of means unnatural aversion of the Chancellor, to a law of which he is ignorant, and carried on by the base and fawning flattery (which he should have seen through) of certain low Scotch Whigs, who, nourishing the vile hope that, change once introduced, changes may be multiplied, are too happy to find, in the best Tory of England, their ally in a plan, which has for its real object the destruction of all that is most dear and valuable to Scotland, and of course held and prized as such by the Tories of Scotland. But the low arts by which the whole affair has been got up and got on-the absurdity of the proposed innovations, and, in particular, the pitiable imbecility with which the whole real concerns of the Jury Court-that job-are blinked-all these things shall ere long be exposed in a full, and, I hope, a satisfactory manner. I shall demolish them in ten pagesdown-down-down shall they lie-never to rise again-or my name is not Timothy. A letter to Jeffrey, I suppose? ODOHERTY. TICKLER. Even so let it be. My word, I'll give him a dose. HOGG. It's ay a pleasure to you to be paiking at him—I wonder you're not wearied o't. TICKLER. I am wearied of it—but duty, Hogg, duty! HOGG. It's my duty to tell you, that the bottom of the bowl has been visible this quarter of an hour. (Rings.) |