NORTH. Why, James, you might write for the Annals of Sporting. SHEPHERD. So I do sometimes-and mair o' ye than me, I jalouse; but I was gaun to ask ye, if ye could imagine the delicht o' a fox gettin' into an undiggable earth, just when the leadin' houn' was at his hainches? Ae sic moment is aneuch to repay half an hour's draggle through the dirt, and he can lick himsel clean at his leisure, far ben in the cranny of the rock, and come out a' tosh and tidy by the first dawn o' licht, to snuff the mornin' air, and visit the distant farm-house before Partlet has left her perch, or Count Crow lifted his head from beneath his oxter on his shed-seraglio. NORTH. Was ye ever in at a death ?—Is not that cruel? SHEPHERD. Do you mean in at the death o' ae fox, or the death o' 100,000 men and 60,000 horses? The takin' o' a Brush, or a Borodino ? NORTH. My dear James, thank ye for your argument. As one Chalmers is worth a thousand Martins, so is one Hogg worth a thousand Chalmerses. SHEPHERD. Ane may weel lose patience, to think o' fules being sorry for the death o' a fox. When the jowlers tear him to pieces, he shows fecht, and gangs aff in a snarl. Hoo could he die mair easier?and for a' the gude he has ever dune, or was likely to do, he surely had leeved lang aneuch. TICKLER. No man who can ride, and afford to keep a hunter or two, ever abused foxhunting. The English clergy are partial to it, and sometimes partake of the pastime. Our Scottish ministers are too poor, and consequently content them selves with shooting or angling-especially the latter. SHEPHERD. And the unfairest o' a' fishers that ever flogged water! Rather than that you should fish a fine pool, when they are afraid you'll gang by them, gin they taigle at it themsels, ministers 'll no scruple to fling in turf torn frae the bank, to mak the water ower drumlie for the flee! Isna that mean and greedy? But ministers aye fish for the pat, and the gutsy weans. TICKLER. I know one minister, James, over in the kingdom of Fife, who would give the devil himself fair play at a match of angling; and that, considering his cloth and calling, glorifies his character as a sportsman. SHEPHERD. I ken wha you mean. Gin a' ministers were like him, Satan wad never daur to show his face in Scotland, frae ae end o' the week to the ither. For he canna stand integrity and the bauld face o't, but rins aff wi' his tail atween his legs, and never keeks ower his shouther till he has got back to the mouth o' his kennel, and gets the imps to rub him wi' sulphur; for the Deevil or Dog o' Hawdes has aye the distemper. TICKLER. The idiots, too, tell you that pugilism is the worst of all cruelty. Tom Crib's health, if you please, Shepherd. SHEPHERD. I hae na the least objection. I'm no a fechtin' man, and ken naething about pugilism. But twa stout young fallows daudin ane anither about for an hour wi' their neives, is no at a' like a dizzen deevils o' bill-dowgs in succession, tearin' the nose, and lips, and tongue o' a bill. The man that says that the boxing's the warst o' the twa, is just a damned idiwut-and should be tain afore a magistrate, and fined roundly, or sent to the tread-mill, for an unprincipled, irreligious, and maist unnatural leear. TICKLER. What, James, do the Forest-lads ever take a turn-up at a fair or wedding? SHEPHERD. Ower aften-peace is best. But I ne'er heard fechtin' ca'd cruel about the Border. They do gie ither desperate paiks-baith up and down-for they're no nice that way; but gin there be ony cruelty in the business o' a black ee and a bloody nose, our folk are sae stupid that they hae never yet fand it out. It's a' cant and effeminacy. NORTH. There is a good deal of ignorance in it. Many people have from their youth up been unaccustomed to all athletic exercises-and to them a box on the ear is a very awful concern. But they will lie back, three in a post-chaise, with heavy luggage, and miry up-hill roads, and snore through a fifteen mile-stage of a stormy winter night, without once thinking of the spavined, and windgalled, and foundered pair of dying hacks, that have dragged them to a fat supper, and a warming-pan'd bed. SHEPHERD. Farmers' horses are a very happy class of people-hard workit to be sure, and at times sair gallopped, when master or man has had a drap ower much; but weel fed and fodder'd, and treated like brithers. Cows, too, are very happy-and saw ye ever the like o' calves wi' their tails up, and covin wi' their buddin' foreheads, and funkin wi' their hind-legs, till they're breathless on the knowe? The rural brute-population are happy. We farmers and shepherds mak them sae-or rather we help-for nature pours happiness into the hearts o' a' creturs, and they a' enjoy life till the inevitable but unapprehended day. NORTH. How much pleasanter, James, this our little partie quarrè, than yesterday's lumbering dinner-throng? There could not have been fewer than twenty? SHEPHERD. I agree wi' you, sir. It's just the maist difficult thing in a' this world to ken hoo to keep up a conversation in a mixed païrty. Out o' ony dizzen there's aye three or four sure to poishon the evening. Ae cretur begins upon paintin', perhaps no the Director-general, for I like to hear him-and keeps deavin' ye wi' his buttery touches, and the Exhibition, frae the time o' the cheese and speerits, a' the way on, without interruption, to that o' the porter_and_red herrings. No anither topic the hail nicht but paintin'. A' the lave o' us clean lose the power o' utterance, and sit fillin' up tumbler after tumbler maist disconsolately, the toddy having lost a' taste, and a' power o' fuddlin', except mere stupefication o' the head. TICKLER. Or some infernal idiot begins upon Political Economy, and to his own refu tation, without any demand, gives you a supply of raw material that fills the whole room with the smell of hides, blubber, and barilla. You might think him one of the "Twa Stirks," that, in absence of the Stot, mislead the Scotsman. The dolt drivels his way between truism and paradox, feeble and fumbling, and with the intellect of a sticket man-milliner. NORTH. With the exception of about half-a-dozen, one or two of whom are of doubtful claims, all these gentry are the most vulgar and most vapid of praters and scribblers. Incapable of comprehending any ordinary and every-day subject, and knowing that they would expose themselves to detection and ridicule the moment they presumptuously opened mouth in company on such topics as gentlemen of education usually converse about, they think to shroud their imbecility and ignorance in-Science, the science of Political Economy ! TICKLER. O the hideous jabber of the foolish-knaves! But be you strong of stomach, and, as the Shepherd would say, dinna scunner-keep down your rising gorge scrutinize the paltry prate of the pretenders and you find them ignorant even of the common rules of arithmetic. They would fain fling flour in your eyes-or knock you down with a bar of bullion-but strip their tongues of this jargon, translate the gabble into English, and the would-be Malthus, or Ricardo, or Tooke, or Mushet, or Buchanan, stares round the company with his vacant and nonplussed eyes, and then vainly tries to recover the balance of power by an undue absorption of the circulating medium. NORTH. In short, you laugh the man of Science into a sulky drunkard, and he and his Principles and Elements of Political Economy lie snoring together below the mahogany, till getting offensive, mine host calls in the chairman from the corner, and bundling him into the vehicle, the room is ventilated,-export being in this case infinitely more advantageous than import, and society benefitted by getting suddenly off hand so much native produce and raw material -to say nothing of Dugald and the carrying trade. SHEPHERD. Ha, ha, ha!—I canna help lauchin', it souns sae comical. I ken naithin' about Political Economy-but I hae observed ae thing in the kintra, and especially at the Farmer's Club at Selkirk, that the greatest gawpus's are aye speakin' about it, that can speak about naething else and perhaps it would be fully as weel for them gin they were to read Hogg upon Sheep, and Dr Findlater. They're a' hard drinkers, too, the maist o' them-bad managersand break.' NORTH. James, only think of an infuriated dunce in the Scotsman declaring, that Sir Walter Scott is not entitled to offer his opinion to the public on the Currency! SHEPHERD. De'el tak the idiwut-what for no? NORTH. The subject is above and beyond his powers! The obscure and insolent lout claims the subject as his own ;-he, forsooth, has read all the authors, "from Smith to Ricardo," and calls upon the world to hold its mouth wide open, that he may administer a dose of doctrine. SHEPHERD. Hoo does the fule ken what Sir Walter has read or no read? And oh! sir! can ony cretur in the Scotsman be really sae weak or wicket as to think himsel' capable o' understandin' ony ae thing whatsomever that's ayont the grasp o' the author o' Waverley's haun'? TICKLER. About a thousand editors of pelting journals, and three times that number of understrappers " upon the establishment," think themselves able to correct the errors of Adam Smith. "We cannot help being surprised that Adam Smith," &c. and then the dunce, shutting his eyes, and clenching his fists, without the slightest provocation, runs his numscull bang against the illustrious sage. NORTH. Adam never so much as inclines from the centre of gravity-while the periodical meal-monger, leaving only some white on the sleeve of the old gentleman's coat, which is easily brushed off by the hand, reels off into the ditch, as if he had been repelled from the wall of a house, and is extricated by some good-natured friend, who holds him up, dirty and dripping, to the derision of all beholders. SHEPHERD. It's perfectly true, that a' the newspaper chiels speak out bauldly upon the principles and yelements o' the science-and though I'm wullin to alloo that there's some verra clever fallows amang them, yet oh! man, it's mair than laughable, for it's loathsome, to hear them ca'in that ower kittle for Sir Walter that's sae easy to themselves, wha write, in my opinion, a sair splutterin style, as to langage,—and, as to thocht, they gang roun' and roun', and across and re-across, backards and forruts, out of ae yett and in at anither, now loupin' ower the hedges, and now bringin' doun the stane-wa's,-sometimes playin' plouter into a wat place up to the oxters, and sometimes stumblin' amang stanes,-noo rinnin' fast fast, like a jowler on the scent, and then sittin' down on a knowe, and yowlin' like a colly at the moon,-in short, like a fou' fallow that hast lost his way in a darkish nicht, and after sax hours sair and unavailing travel, is discovered snoring sound asleep on the road-side by decent folk riding in to the market. NORTH. I shall probably have two pretty stiffish articles about public men and things in this Number; and therefore fear that I must delay the Currency Question for another month. I shall then, in my usual way, settle it for ever. TICKLER. Malachi Malagrowther is in the wrong, and the Courier scribe has done him. NORTH. Malachi Malagrowther is in the right, and the Courier prig has done him self. I have a twenty-page article in my head; and it will spring forth, fullgrown, and armed like Minerva, from the brain of Jove. SHEPHERD. Ma faith! you and Malachi 'll skelp their doups for them, and gar them skirl. NORTH. O Lord, James! but the Chancellor of the Exchequer is a heavy joker! If his taxes were as heavy as his wit, the country would indeed be sorely bur thened. There is a grace and brilliancy about all Canning says, and he never makes a pass without a palpable hit. Robinson should stick to his own figures -arithmetical ones, I mean-yet there was "Hear, hear!" And the Chancellor cackled, flapped his wings, and crowed after the fashion of an unwieldy barndoor fowl, who sees that a game-cock, who would kill him at a single blow, is at a safe distance in another croft, attending to his own pursuits. I disagree entirely TICKLER. SHEPHERD. Haud your tongue, Mr Tickler. I'm quite convinced by Mr North's twentypage article, that's to loup out like Minerva. Besides, eh! man, a' the Englishers, like gowks, canna see that Malachi has a way o' expressin' himsel peculiar to the Malagrowthers; and they set about answering him wi' grave faces the length o' my arm. NORTH. Very silly indeed, James-but there's a braw time comin'. Tickler, have you been at the Exhibition? TICKLER. John Watson Gordon is great. His Dr Hunter is equal to anything of Raeburn's. I doubt that. NORTH. TICKLER. Well then-next to Raeburn-John stands among our Scottish modern portrait painters. i SHEPHERD. What for does every person cry out, "Ower many portraits, ower many portraits?" Can onything be mair pleasant than just a' at ance, when your freend is a thousand miles aff, or perhaps dead, to see the very cretur himsel on canvas, lookin' at you wi' a smile or a frown? TICKLER. If people would not be so excessively ugly, James! Portraits are in general very unpardonable. Mr Colvin Smith forces upon you strong and striking likenesses, and I augur well of the young man when he shall have learned to draw and colour; but why represent all his gentlemen as half-seas over, and all his ladies as little better than they should be? NORTH. Vile taste and feeling indeed! His pictures are clever and coarse; and wo betide the wight who passes through his hands, for he instantly loses all appearance of a gentleman. SHEPHERD. Weel, I just think his pictures capital. It's a' nonsense you're talkin' about leddies and gentlemen. Painters are owre fond o' flattery; and if his portraits are vulgar, as you ca't, how can Mr Smith help that, gin he wishes to be true to his original? NORTH. Simpson, in landscape, is delightful this year. He has an exquisite sense of the beautiful in scenery-and is a master of the principles of his art. TICKLER. Come, come, let us have no drivelling about pictures. There's the Shep herd himself, a much better painter than the best of the whole set. NORTH. Did you never use pencil or brush, James? I do not remember anything of yours, by an amateur," in any of our Exhibitions. SHEPHERD. I've skarted some odds and ends wi' the keelavine on brown paper-and Mr Scroope tell't Sir Walter they showed a gran' natural genius. Î fin' maist diffeeculty in the foreshortnin' and perspective. Things wunna retire and come forrit as I wush-and the back-grun will be the fore-grund whether I will or no. Sometimes, however, I dash the distance aff wi' a lucky stroke, and then I can get in the sheep or cattle in front, and the sketch, when you dinna stan' ower near, has a' the effect o' nature. NORTH. Do you work after Salvator Rosa, or Claude Lorraine, James? SHEPHERD. I'm just as original in paintin' as in poetry, and follow nae master! I'm partial to close scenes-a bit neuk, wi' a big mossy stane, aiblins a birk tree, a burnie maist dried up, a' but ae deep pool, into which slides a thread water down a rock-a shepherd readin'-nae ither leevin' thing-for the flock are ayont the knowes-and up amang the green hills-ay, anither leevin' thing, and just ane, his colley, rowed up half-asleep, wi' a pair o' lugs that still seem listenin', and his closin' een towards his maister. That's a simple matter, sir, but, properly disposed, it makes a bonny pictur. NORTH. I should have thought it easier to " dash off" a wide open country with the keelavine. SHEPHERD. So it is-I've dun a moor-gin you saw't you would doubt the earth being roun', there's sic an extent o' flat-and then, though there's nae mountaintaps, you feel you're on table-land. I contrive that by means o' the cluds. You never beheld stronger bent, some o' the stalks thick as your arm-and places wi' naething but stanes. Here and there earth-chasms, cut by the faroff folk for their peats-and on the foreground something like water, black and sullen, as if it quaked. Nae birds, but some whawps-ane fleein’, and ane walkin' by itsel, and ane just showin' its lang neck amang some rushes. You think, at first, it may be the head o' a serpent-but there's nane amang our mosses, only asks, which is a sort o' lizards, or wee alligators, green, and glidin' awa without noise or rustle intil the heather. Time-evening, or rather late on in the afternoon, when Nature shows a solemn-maist an awfu' stillness-and solitude, as I hae aften thocht, is deeper than at midnight. NORTH. James, I will give you twenty guineas for that keelavine sketch. SHEPHERD. Ye'se ha't for naithin, sir, and welcome-if you'll only fastent against the wa wi' a prin, aboon the brace-piece o' your Leebrary-room. Let it be in the middle, and you sall hae Twa Briggs to hing at either side on't. The ane, a' the time I was drawin't, I could hardly persuade mysel wasna a rainbow. You see it's flung across a torrent gayen far up a hillside, and I was sittin' sketchin't a gude piece down below, on a cairn. The spray o' the torrent had wat a' the mosses, and flowers, and weeds, and sic like, on the arch, and the⚫ sun smote it wi' sudden glory, till in an instant it burst into a variegated low, and I could hae ta'en my Bible-oath it was the rainbow. Oh! man, that I had had a pallet o' colours! I'm sure I could ha'e mixed them up prismati cally aneuch-yet wi' the verra mere, naked, unassisted keelavine (that day fortunately it was a red ane,) I caught the character o' the apparition, and keepin' my cen for about a minute on the paper, shadin' aff and aff, you ken, 12 |