THE SHEPHERD'S DEFENCE.

329

ony ither man engaged in geyan sair and heavy wark, think na ye that his "Excursion" would hae been far less fatigue

some?

Tickler. It could not at least well have been more so, James, -and I devoutly hope that that cursed old Pedlar is defunct. Indeed, such a trio as the poet himself, the packman, and the half-witted annuitant

North. My friend Wordsworth has genius, but he has no invention of character-no constructiveness, as we phrenologists

say.

Shepherd. He, and ither folk like him, wi gude posts and pensions, may talk o' drinkin water as muckle's they choose -and may abuse me and the like o' me for preferrin speerits -but

North. Nobody is abusing you, my dear Shepherd

Shepherd. Haud your tongue, Mr North-for I'm geyan angry the noo—and I canna thole being interrupted when I'm angry,-sae haud your tongue, and hear me speak,-and faith, gin some folk were here, they should be made to hear on the deafest side o' their heads.

North. Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!

Shepherd. Well then, gentlemen, it cannot be unknown to you that the water-drinking part of the community have not scrupled to bestow on our meetings here, on the Noctes Ambrosianæ, the scurrilous epithet of Orgies; and that I, the Shepherd, have come in for the chief part of the abuse. I therefore call on you, Mr North, to vindicate my character to the public, to speak truth and shame the devil-and to declare in Maga, whether or not you ever saw me once the worse of liquor during the course of your career?

North. Is it possible, my dearest friend, that you can trouble your head one moment about so pitiful a crew? That jug, James, with its nose fixed upon yours, is expressing its surprise that

Tickler. Hogg, Hogg, this is a weakness which I could not have expected from you-Have you forgotten how the Spectator, and Sir Roger de Coverley, and others, were accused of wine-bibbing, and other enormities, by the dunces of those days?

Shepherd. Confound their back-biting malignity! Is there a steadier hand than that in a' Scotland ?-see how the liquid

330

SHEPHERD'S DAILY LIFE.

quivers to the brim, and not a drop overflowing-Is my nose red? my broo blotched? my een red and rheumy? my shanks shrunk? my knees, do they totter? or does my voice come from my heart in a crinkly cough, as if the lungs were rotten? Bring ony ane o' the base water-drinkers here, and set him doun afore me, and let us discuss ony subject he likes, and see whase head's the clearest, and whase tongue wags wi' maist unfalterin freedom!

North. The first thing, James, the water-drinker would do, would be to get drunk, and make a beast of himself.

Shepherd. My life, Mr North, as you ken, has been ane of some vicissitudes, and even now I do not eat the bread of idleness. For ae third o' the twenty-four hours, tak ae day wi' anither throughout the year, I'm i' the open air, wi' heaven's wind and rain perhaps, or its hail and sleet, and they are blessed by the hand that sends them, blashing against me on the hill:-For anither third, I am at my byucks—no mony 0' them to be sure in the house-but the few that are no the wark o' dunces, ye may believe that; or aiblins doin my best to write a byuck o' my ain, or if no a byuck, siccan a harmless composition as ane o' my bits o' " Shepherd's Calendars," or the like;—or, if study hae nae charms, playin wi the bairns, or hearin them their lessons, or crackin wi' a neighbour, or sittin happy wi' the mistress by our ain twa sels, sayin little, but thinkin a hantle, and feelin mair. For the remaining third, frae ten at nicht to sax in the morning, enjoyin that sweet sound sleep that is the lot o' a gude conscience, and out o' which I come as regular at the verra same minute as if an angel gently lifted my head frae the pillow, and touched my eyelids with awakening licht,-no forgettin, as yoursel kens, Mr North, either evening or morning prayers, no verra lang anes to be sure, except on the Sabbath; but as I hope for mercy, humble and sincere, as the prayers o' us sinfu' beings should ever be-sinfu', and at a' times, sleepin or waukin, aye on the brink o' death! Can there be ony great harm, Mr North, in a life that-saving and excepting always the corrupt thochts o' a man's ain heart, which has been wisely said to be desperately wicked-even when it micht think itsel, in its pride, the verra perfection o' virtue

North. I never left Altrive or Mount Benger, James, without feeling myself a better and a wiser man.

Shepherd. Nae man shall ever stop a nicht in my house, without partakin o' the best that's in't, be't meat or drink; and if the coof1 canna drink three or four tummlers or jugs o' toddy, he has nae business in the Forest. But if he do nae mair than follow the example I'se set him, he'll rise in the morning without a headache, and fa' to breakfast, no wi' that fause appeteet that your drunkards yoke on to the butter and bread wi', and the eggs, and the ham and haddies, as if they had been shipwrecked in their sleep, and scoured wi' the salt-water, -but wi' that calm, sane, and steady appeteet, that speaks an inside sound in a' its operations as clockwork, and gives assurance o' a lang and usefu' life, and a large family o' children. North. Replenish the dolphin, James.

Shepherd. She's no toom, yet.-Now, sir, I ca' that no an abstemious life-for why should ony man be abstemious?— but I ca't a temperate life, and o' a' the virtues, there's nane mair friendly to man than Temperance.

Tickler. That is an admirable distinction, James.

Shepherd. I've seen you forget it sir, howsomever, in practice-especially in eatin. Oh, but you're far frae a temperate eater, Mr Tickler. You're ower fond o' a great heap o' different dishes at denner. I'm within boun's when I say I hae seen you devour a dizzen. For me, sufficient is the Rule of Three. I care little for soop-unless kail, or cocky-leeky, or hare-soop, or mock-turtle, which is really, considerin it's only mock, a pleasant platefu'; or hodge-podge, or potawto-broth, wi' plenty o' mutton-banes, and weel peppered; but your white soops, and your broon soops, and your vermisilly, I think naething o', and they only serve to spoil, without satisfyin a gude appeteet, of which nae man o' sense will ever tak aff the edge afore he attacks a dish that is in itself a denner. I like to bring the haill power o' my stamach to bear on vittles that's worthy o't, and no to fritter't awa on side dishes, sic as pâtes, and trash o' that sort, only fit for boardin-school misses, wi' wee shrimpit mouths, no able to eat muckle, and ashamed to eat even that: a' covered wi' blushes, puir things, if ye but offer to help onything ontil their plates, or to tell them no to mind folk starin, but to mak a gude denner, for that it will do them nae harm, but, on the contrary, mingle roses with the lilies of their delicate beauty.

1 Coof-ninny.

2 Toom-empty.

332

SHEPHERD'S TOLERANCE.

Tickler. Every man, James, is the best judge of what he ought to eat, nor is one man entitled to interfere

Shepherd. Between another man and his own stomach!Do you mean to say that? Why, sir, that is even more absurd than to say that no man has a right to interfere between another and his own conscience, or his

Tickler, And is that absurd?

Shepherd. Yes, it is absurd-although it has, somehow or other, become an apothegm.-Is it not the duty of all men, to the best o' their abilities, to enlighten ane anither's understandings? And if I see my brethren o' mankind fa' into a' sorts o' sin and superstition, is't nae business o' mine, think ye, to endeavour to set them right, and enable them to act according to the dictates o' reason and nature?

Tickler. And what then, James?

Shepherd. Why, then, sir, it may be often our duty to interfere between a man and his conscience, when that conscience is weak, or dark, or perverted-between a man and his religion, when that religion is fu' o' falsehood and idolatry. The opposite doctrine that holds that every man's religion is a matter solely between his own soul and his Maker, is, in my belief, a pernicious doctrine, and one that countenances all enormities of faith. There is surely such a thing as Truth— and such a thing as Falsehood-and for my ain part, I shall never leave ony freen' o' mine in undisturbed enjoyment o' falsehood, even if that falsehood relate to his God.

North. We are getting on difficult, on dangerous ground, my dear Shepherd

Shepherd. Yes; but we maun a' tread difficult and dangerous ground, Mr North, every day in our lives, even the simplest and the maist sincere,—and we are a' o' us bound to contribute to ane anither's security, amang the pitfalls and quagmires o' life. I hae nae notion of that creed that tells me to leave a dour, doited devil to go daunderin on, wi' his een shut, his ain way to perdition.

North. Would you, like Missionary Wolff, challenge the Pope to battle, and call his religion a lie?

Shepherd. No, sir,—I wad never sae far forget mysel as to cease being a gentleman,-for then, so far, I should cease being a Christian. But gin I thocht Papistry a fause thing, which I do, I wadna scruple to say sae, in sic terms as were consistent wi' gude manners, and wi' charity and humility of

CATHOLIC EMANCIPATION.

333

heart, and back my opinion wi' sic arguments as I had learned out of that book which the Pope, I fancy, wadna allow a poor lay-creature like me to read at nicht, afore gaun to-bed, and just after I had seen the bairns a' soun' asleep in theirs, wi' their quiet smiling faces hushed to peace, under the protecting love o' Him wha had wrapt the innocent things in the heaven o' happy dreams. Still, I wadna ca' the Pope a leear, like Mr Wolff; for nae man's a leear, unless he kens that he is ane; and his Holiness, for onything I ken to the contrar, may be, in his delusion, a lover of the Truth.

North. You would not, if in Parliament, James, vote for what is called Catholic Emancipation?

Shepherd. I scarcely think I would, at least I would be what Mr Canning says he is not, a security grinder.

Tickler. And I, James.

North. And I, James.

Shepherd. And, thank heaven! the majority of the British Parliament, and three-fourths of the British people, Mr North. North. Have you read Dr Phillpotts' Letter, Tickler?

1

Tickler. I have, with delight. One of the ablest productions of modern days-bold, fearless, manly, gentlemanly, Protestant. North. And yet the Whigs all call it personal-nay, libellous -although Dr Phillpotts expresses towards Mr Canning, to whom it is addressed, the greatest respect for his character, and the highest admiration of his talents. Not thus, Tickler, did they speak and write of that illustrious person a few short years ago.

Tickler. I have made out a paper on that point,—but it is too long, I fear, for the Magazine-it would occupy three sheets-of malignity, stupidity, and abuse incredible, but from the tongues and fingers of Whigs. Even now, they hate Mr Canning. We, on the contrary, always loved him-then as now-but

Shepherd. What noise is that in that press? Is't a mooss getting its neck into a trap? Let's see

[Opens the press, and out steps a person, shabby genteel, in black or brownish apparel.

1 Afterwards the Bishop of Exeter. In the letter referred to, and in other publications, he argued against the Catholic Emancipation Act. But when that measure was brought before Parliament by the Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel, he preserved an entire silence, which was generally construed

as consent.