234 LITERARY JEALOUSY. Lucy! it is a time for prayer— A time for thoughts we cannot speak, Our thoughts will find the home they seek. We are not things of dust and clay, Shepherd. Thae verses are nae small beer, Tickler. You're a bad reader, but they read themselves-sae fu' o' pathos and poetry. Here's the health o' the chiel that wrote them. North (awakes sober). Have you read the "Hints for the Holidays, "James? and how do you like them? Shepherd. I enterteen ower muckle envy and jealousy o' that awthor, fairly to judge or fully to enjoy ony o' his warks. He does the same o' me-so we're on a fittin2 o' equality. Tickler. In short, there's no love lost between you. Shepherd. I hope not for I love him as weel as ony freen I hae—and sae I verily believe does he me. But, oh! that leeterary envy and jealousy to which we are baith a prey. It embitters the very heart's-bluid. North. I never felt such passions. 3 Shepherd. Because, ye see, Mr North, ye staun ower high aboon a' ither editors. Wi' a weel-pleased face, you keep lookin down on them and where's the merit in your seeing them, without envy or jealousy, plouterin in the dubs, or brastlin up the braes, or sittin down pechin* on "Rest and be thankfu'." But mind that to you they're a' lookin up-that "they sigh the more because they sigh in vain," yet glad glad would they be if they could rug ye doun frae your throne by the tail o' the coat, or drag the crutch out o' your nieve, or even mislay your specs, that they might dim your perspicacity! I hae often heard ither editors, and their contributors, wondering how auld ye really were, some o' them moving ye up as heigh as fourscore! They try, but it winna do, to believe it possible that ye may have some constitutional tendency to apoplexy, and swear, against the testimony o' their 1 Contributed to Blackwood's Magazine, Nos. CXIV., Professor Wilson. 3 Plouterin in the dubs-floundering in the puddles. CXVI., CXVII., by 2 Fittin-footing. 5 A seat on the summit of the ascent in Glencroe-a wild Highland passis so called. NORTH GENERALLY ABHORRED. 235 There's no a ain senses, that you're unco short in the neck. better complaint to bring against a man than cholera morbus, and wi' that, sir, they have charged ye several times, even to the length o' death. In the Great Fire o' Edinburgh, a far greater ane than the Great Fire o' London, in proportion to the size o' the twa touns, and that's a' a Scotchman need contend for, it was rumoured that ye had perished under a fall o' fiery rafters. That sough1 I traced mysel back to the Seven Young Men; and, nae doubt, mony mony howped ye had been in the Comet. North. It is not in my power to bring myself to believe that I can be hated by any human being, James. It is not, indeed. Shepherd. Hated-by some you're just perfectly abhorred! your name's just anither name for Sawtan; and the sanctum sanctorum, in their imagination, what ither place but, to be plain wi' ye, preceesely hell? North. That is very discouraging to Shepherd. Discouragin! What! to be hated, abhorred, feared by the bad and the base, the paltry and the profligate, the sinfu', and, what's sometimes waur than sinfu', the stupit? What for didna baith o' you twa come up to the moors on the Twalf this season? Tickler. We were at Dalnacardoch, you ignoramus, also at Dalwhinnie, along Loch Ericht, over from Dall to Megarney, at the head of Glen-Lyon, thence across the Moor o' Rannoch to the head o' Glenorchy; then pluff-pluff-rap-rap-slab -bang in the direction of Inverary-away round by Cairndow -from that ower some grand shooting-ground to the Cobler sitting in the Clouds above Arrochar and Loch Long —and finally, skirting the coast over against Greenock, a steamer took us to Glasgow, where the rums were looking up, the punch was pleasant, and the people given to geggery, every house hospitable, and a set of first-rate fellows flourishing at THE CLUB. 3 Shepherd. It wasna fair no to let me ken. Tickler. The truth is, James, that North was in rather an odd way, and did not like to be looked at by anybody but me 1 Sough rumour. 2 The contributors to Constable's Magazine were so characterised by Blackwood. 3 A lofty mountain in Argyllshire is so called, from the appearance it presents of a cobbler bending over his last. 236 CHEER UP, MR NORTH. Shepherd. Didna like to be looked at by ony ither body but you! He maun hae been in an odd way indeed.—Was ye rather a wee wrang in the head, sir? If sae, I can sympatheeze wi' you, for I was geyan ill mysel in that way about the time that I was writing the "Pilgrims o' the Sun.' Tickler. Not then, James. It was when you were engaged in writing Memoirs of your own Life. Shepherd. Cheer up, Mr North, cheer up! Oh, my dear sir, whenever the Magazine wants a gran' article, only ask me, and ye shall hae't. I hate to see ye sae down i' the mouth. North. Nobody can understand my feelings, James. I am an unhappy man. The Magazine is getting every month stupider and stupider. I think-that is, Ebony thinks of reducing the price to two shillings, and augmenting the sheets to twelve. Rousseau in his Confessions and the Opium Eater Shepherd. Cheer up, Mr North, cheer up. You hae nae occasion for Rousseau, and he's ower far aff to send articles without a sair expense-and naebody kens where he is; and as for the Opium-Eater, he lives in a world o' his ain, where there are nae Magazines o' ony sort, but o' hail and sleet, and thunder, and lichtnin, and pyramids, and Babylonian terraces covering wi' their fallen gardens, that are now naething but roots and trunks o' trees, and bricks o' pleasure-houses, the unknown tombs o' them that belonged ance to the Beasts in the Revelations, and were ordered to disappear by a hand on a wall, shadow and substance baith emblems-(is that the word?)-o' the thousan years transitory greatness of the michty-ignorant, that at the verra best they were the ghosts of ghosts, shadows of dreams, and tenth-cousins to the dust, frailer and mair evanescent than their dry relation wha is himsel disowned by that proud landed proprietorEarth! North. Surely Ambrose has made some alteration in his house lately. I cannot make out this room at all. It is not the Blue Parlour? Shepherd. We're at Southside, sir-we're at Southside, sir -perfectly sober ane and a'; but dinna be alarmed, sir, if you see twa cotches at the door, for we're no gaun to separate -there's only ane, believe me and I'll tak a hurl wi' ye as far's the Harrow, X. (NOVEMBER 1826.) Scene,-Ambrose's Hotel, Picardy Place-Paper Parlour. SHEPHERD, NORTH, and TICKLER. Shepherd. Do you ken, Mr North, that I'm beginning to like this snug wee roomy in Mr Awmrose's New Hotel, maist as weel's the Blue Parlour in the dear auld tenement? North. Ah no, my dear James, none of us will ever be able to bring our hearts to do that; to us, Gabriel's Road will aye be holy and haunted ground. George Cooper1 is a fine fighter and a civil landlord, but I cannot look on his name on that door without a pensive sigh! Mr Ambrose's worthy brother has moved, you know, up stairs, and I hobble in upon him once a fortnight for auld langsyne. 2 Shepherd. I aften wauken greetin' frae a dream about that dear dear tenement. "But what's the use o' sighing, since life is on the wing;" and but for the sacredness o' a' thae recollections, this house-this hotel-is in itsel preferable, perhaps, to our ancient howf. North. Picardy is a pleasant place, and our host is prosperous. No house can be quieter and more noiseless. 3 Shepherd. That's a great maitter. You'll recollect me ance lodgin in Anne Street, noo nae langer in existence,—a steep street, ye ken, rinnin down alang the North Brig towards where the New Markets are, but noo biggit up wi' a' thae new buildings 1 George Cooper, a respectable man, although a pugilist, succeeded Ambrose 2 Greetin-weeping. in Gabriel's Road. 3 The Scottish Central Railway terminus is close to the site where Anne Street formerly stood. 238 THE BURNING OF MOSCOW. North. That I do, James. 'Twas there, up a spiral stone staircase, in a room looking towards the Castle, that first I saw my Shepherd's honest face, and first I ate along with him cod's head and shoulders. Shepherd. We made a nicht o't wi' twa dear freens1; -ane o' them at this hour in Ettrick, and the ither ower the saut seas in India, an Episcopalian chaplain. North. But let's be merry, James. Our remembrances are getting too tender. Shepherd. What I was gaun to say was this,—that yon room, quate as it seemed, was aften the maist infernally noisy chawmer on the face o' this noisy earth. It wasna far, ye ken, frae the playhouse. Ae wunter there was an afterpiece ca'd the Burnin o' Moscow, that was performed maist every nicht. A while afore twal the Kremlin used to be blawn up; and the soun', like thunder, wauken'd a' the sleepin dowgs in that part o' the town. A' at ance there was set up siccan a barkin, and yellin, and youlin, and growlin, and nyaffin, and snaffin, and clankin o' chains frae them in kennels, that it was waur than the din o' aerial jowlers pursuing the wild huntsmen through the sky. Then cam the rattlin o' wheels, after Moscow was reduced to ashes, that made the dowgs, especially the watch anes, mair outrageous than ever, and they keepit rampaugin in their chains on till past twa in the mornin. About that hour, or sometimes suner, they had wauken'd a' the cocks in the neebourhood-baith them in preevate families and in poulterers' cavies; and the creturs keepit crawin defiance to ane anither quite on to dawn o' licht. Some butchers had ggem-cocks in pens no far frae my lodgings; and oh! but the deevils incarnate had hoarse, fierce, cruel craws! Neist began the dust and dung carts; and whare the mailcoaches were gaun, or comin frae, I never kent, but ilka halfhour there was a toutin o' horns-lang tin anes, I'm sure, frae the scutter o' broken-winded soun'. After that a' was din and distraction, for day-life begude3 to roar again; and aften 1 Mr Grieve of Cacra Bank, Ettrick, an Edinburgh merchant; and Mr James Gray, one of the masters of the High School. The latter was an accomplished linguist. After leaving the High School, he held an appointment in Belfast College, and died in India, in the service of the Church of England, while engaged in translating the Scriptures into one of the native dialects. 2 Quate-quiet. 3 Begude-began. |