OF JOHN RAMSAY, M.A. THE SELECTED WRITINGS JOHN RAMSAY, M.A MEMOIR AND NOTES BY ALEXANDER WALKER (HIS LITERARY EXECUTOR) PORTRAIT AND ILLUSTRATIONS BY GEORGE REID, A.R.S.A. JOHN RAE SMITH, ABERDEEN WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS EDINBURGH AND LONDON 187 I A (I rights reserved. Printed by R. CLARK, Edinburgh. TO THE GENTLE READER. A WISE man wrote some forty years ago, that "there were three difficulties in authorship to write anything worth publishing, to find honest men to publish it, and, to get sensible men to read it. Literature has now become a game, in which the booksellers are the kings, the critics the knaves, the public the pack, and the poor author the mere table, or thing played upon." The writer of the following papers, while in life, held some such opinion as to the gains and comforts of book- making. At his death he gave his executors the liberty to gather together into a volume such of his literary bantlings as were thought worth preserving. For the characteristic portrait of Mr. Ramsay, and graceful artistic drawings of "bits" and "places" which he loved to look upon, the Editor has to thank the facile pencil of his friend Mr. George Reid, A.R.S.A. 2000101 CONTENTS. PAGE MEMOIR ...... xiii MY GOOD OLD AUNT ..... i CRITICISM ON ADDISON .... 5 ON TAKING LEAVE OF ABERDEEN . . .19 ROYAL VISITS TO ABERDEEN IN OLDEN TIMES . 21 LINES ADDRESSED TO A LADY . . . .30 THE AUL'TON CROSS . . . . .31 NEWSPAPERS . . . . . -35 THE PAPISTS Chapter I. . . . . . .50 Chapter II. . . . . . .54 Chapter III. ..... 59 Conclusion ...... 64 BE HEAVEN MY STAY ..... 70 FASCICULUS FACETIARUM ABREDONENSIUM A Tale of the Broadgate . . . . 72 A Friend in Need . . . . .72 The Rev. Mr. Abercrombie and the Rev. Mr. Fullerton 74 A Pat Remonstrance . . . -75 The Weaker Vessel . . . . -75 An Attentive Hearer . . . .76 A Probationer of the Kirk . . . -77 viii CONTENTS. PAGE FASCICULUS FACETIARUM ABREDONENSIUM Contd. The late Mr. L th . - . . -77 A Double-entendre . . . . -77 Dr. John Chalmers ..... 78 A Left-handed Compliment . . . -79 A New Sett ..... 81 The learned Blackwell .... 82 Jean Carr ...... 82 Mr. W , formerly minister of Echt . . .83 The Rev. Mr. Forbes .... 83 "Timmer to Timmer" . . . .84 A Dead Hit ..... 84 The late Rev. Mr. G d-n ... 85 An Accommodating Servant . . . .86 "Sine Die" ..... 86 SONNETS The Planet Venus . . . . .87 Moonlight . . . . . .87 OUR CATHEDRAL . .... 89 ABERDONIANS . .... 94 EXCURSIVE EDUCATION Fytte First Ichthyology . . . -97 PADDY WEEKS' ADDRESS . . . .114 MATHEMATICS . . . . . .117 DR. HAMILTON . . . . . .126 DR. CHALMERS . . . . . .134 EPITAPH GEORGE GRAY . . . .144 THE REV. DR. BLACK . . . . .145 DR. FALCONER ...... 155 MR. ARCHIBALD SIMPSON, ARCHITECT . . .161 MR. DUNCAN, EX-TREASURER OF POLICE . .168 HYMN . . . . . . 173 CONTENTS. ix PAGE THE LAMENT OF DAVID FOR SAUL AND JONATHAN . 174 "RANDOM RHYMES" ..... 176 MORNING : A FRAGMENT . . . .180 ON HEARING A LARK SINGING IN A CAGE IN LONDON 181 GORDON'S HOSPITAL . . . . .182 To DESPAIR ...... 202 THE CHURCH OF ST. NICHOLAS Chapter I. . . . . . . 205 Chapter II. . . . . . . 212 Chapter III. . . . . . .219 Chapter IV. . . . . . . 225 Chapter V. . . . . . . 23 1 A SUMMER EVENING WALK WITH LUCY . . 238 GRAMMAR SCHOOL REMINISCENCES The May Play . . . . .242 "The Visitation" . . . . . 248 AN OLD ABERDONIAN . . . . .255 ABERDONIANA The Old East Kirk Notables and Notabilia . . 258 The Old East Kirk . . . .265 Random Notes of Local Antiquities, etc. . .276 MEMORANDUM RESPECTING SOME ANCIENT INSCRIPTIONS IN SCOTLAND ...... 308 NOTES ON THE PRESENT STATE OF CRIME . . 320 ANCIENT CITY WELLS ..... 332 THE FIRST OF APRIL 1813 .... 341 THE SICK CHAMBER ..... 346 To MY FRIEND ..... 349 MY GRAVE . . . . . .351 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Subject. PORTRAIT OF MR. RAMSAY KING'S COLLEGE FRAGMENT OF THE AUL'TON CROSS THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. MACHAR THE OLD CHURCH OF ST. NICHOLAS FRAGMENT OF TOMB (MENZIES') DRUM'S AISLE MURAL TABLET (PROVOST LEITH'S) 1352 PEW BACKS IN ST. MARY'S CHAPEL THE OLD GRAMMAR SCHOOL RAMSAY'S GRAVE Engrnved by R. C. Bell, Frontispiece R. Paterson, Page 3 1 34 205 208 215 219 242 353 MEMOIR. MANY a memorial notice, pensive and graceful, did the author of the following papers write during that long life it was given him to spend in Aberdeen. To reciprocate for him this office to sketch John Ramsay in manner as he lived, in all his rugged independence, shrewdness, wit, with all his power of fascinating talk, telling repartee, or stinging sarcasm, is no easy task. Careless of posthumous fame heedless of the effects of the sharp words he used and, to many, seemingly profoundly in- different to everything that did not minister in one way or another to his personal comfort, he had yet a depth of kindly feeling which few gave him credit for, and, the writer believes that, in spite of all his acrid utterances, he was a thoughtful Christian gentleman. No man ever suffered more from in- capacity to control the expressions of a keen wit. His perfervidum ingenium often forced from him sayings he would have recalled as soon as uttered, and if unhappily some stinging epigram, or sharp incisive witticism, did now and again turn a kindly b xiv MEMOIR. acquaintance into a bitter enemy, we may well lay them to rest with him in his grave. He is no friend to the memory of John Ramsay who can repeat such sayings of his, brilliant though many of them were, apart from the circumstances of real or fancied wrong which called them forth. Here at least they can find no place. The selected articles which constitute the bulk of this volume indicate with sufficient clearness his position as an essayist, mathematician, poet, and wit. Of necessity, and to a great extent, only a local interest can be felt in the subjects treated, but many of these writings, by the grace and purity of their style, merit and will receive a broader recognition of their worth. If the Memoir fails to catch the salient points, or show the true character " Of that friend of mine who lives in God That God who ever lives and loves," it will be the fault of the Editor ; for discernment, perception, force and solidity of character, every quality needed in portraiture, the subject had in abundance. John Ramsay was born in London on the i8th September 1799. His father, John Ramsay, was Master of a West India trader. He died in Bar- badoes. His mother was the only daughter of Alexander M 'Donald, of Calcutta, and of Elizabeth Smith, eldest daughter of the Alexander Smith, of Blairdaff, near Monymusk, whose name occurs in MEMOIR. xv the list of the Commissioners of Supply for 1690. This family was one of the oldest in the county, having been settled at Blairdaff for many genera- tions. When Ramsay was only nine months old, his mother left London for Aberdeen, taking up house in Correction Wynd, afterwards in Black's Buildings, where he was brought up. At four years of age he was initiated in reading and spelling by Miss Hogg, who taught a juvenile school in the neighbouring street, and whose good graces he fortunately gained. His two grandmothers, both women of strong sense, were at this time alive, and vied with each other in affectionate regard for him. He never had an aunt, and those elegant Cowper- like verses of his, "To my good old Aunt," the writer thinks are a creation of the poet's fancy from a study of the characters of those two gentle- women. His grandmother by the mother's side, Mrs. M'Donald, had received a liberal education, had herself been a teacher of youth, and had seen much good society. She had lived for some time in the family of Thomas Ruddiman, to whom she was related. Sir John Peter Grant of Rothie- murchus was at one period her juvenile pupil, and in the family of his father she became acquainted with the celebrated Hawkesworth, and used to amuse young Ramsay's childhood with anecdotes of him and other distinguished persons of the day, to whose society she had been introduced. This excellent xvi MEMOIR. lady delighted to superintend his religious, moral, and intellectual training. Before he could read with fluency, she used to read the Bible, the Spectator, and other works to him. The vision of the valley of dry bones in Ezekiel, the Vision of Mirza in the Spectator, the death of Mary Queen of Scots, were all favourite passages. After having been about two years with Miss Hogg, he entered Mr. Falconer's English and Writing School, where he continued to extend his elementary studies. Mr. Falconer was a remarkably good-tempered and able teacher, for whose memory Ramsay cherished the deepest gratitude and affection. He entered the Grammar School in November 1807, under Mr. Nicol, with whom he remained three years. He was then transferred to the Rector's care. With Mr. Nicol he had the character of being a clever, spirited little chap, who could when he would. Ramsay once, on a holiday afternoon, stopped so long at Fittie, that his mother, getting alarmed, called on Mr. Nicol. John came home, all right, late at night. Next morning, Mr. Nicol admin- istered a long advice and a heavy thrashing to the wanderer, winding both up with the assurance that he had done it all "for the sake of his mother, Betty M 'Donald." He had no private tutor. He always enjoyed his play first, and tJien his lessons ; and sometimes in the longer summer nights, used to write his MEMOIR. xvii version outside the window, after an evening of play, for his careful mother allowed no candles at that season. He was passionately fond of reading all sorts of books, of attending the Circuit Court, the meetings of the Synod, and other public assemblies, and much given to bell-ringing, and all manner of pranks. He was a keen hand at all boyish sports, but rather given to suggesting than leading in the ploys of his schoolfellows, by whom he was generally liked. For story-books he would have done or given anything. He was free from vice, and never could tell a lie. Even when dis- posed to make the attempt, his face betrayed him. He did not like Mr. Cromar so well as Mr. Nicol ; his progress with the former was therefore less satis- factory. In 1812 he competed for a bursary at Marischal College. Twelve were given, and he stood fourteenth. A son of Mr. Falconer's was thirteenth, and George Moir, afterwards distinguished at the Scotch Bar and in literature, ranked next below. They all went back to the Grammar School, of which Ramsay tired in six months. He then went to the town's Public School, at that time taught by Mr. Cruden, afterwards minister of Logie- Buchan, for arithmetic and mathematics, of which studies he became very fond. Mr. Alexander Leith Ross and Mr. Ramsay conceived about this time a great mutual friendship. Mr. Ross advised him to try his luck again at the competition, and xviii MEMOIR. took considerable pains with him, prescribing his versions. Ramsay's pride would not allow him to compete again at Marischal College, so he went to King's and gained the second bursary, being the youngest of ninety competitors. From Mr. Ross, and his worthy father, the Rev. Dr. Ross, of the East Kirk, he received many acts of kindness, particularly the loan of books. Ramsay's first attempt in verse was made on the occasion of the death of the amiable and lamented Mr. Ross in 1821. It was the natural expression of sincere grief. He did not like the studies pursued during the first year at College, and therefore did not make suitable progress. He was cut off from the society of his former class-fellows, most of whom were at Marischal College. Of these, Forbes Falconer, who was formerly unsuccessful along with himself, had gained the first bursary, and George Moir, also at first unsuccessful, gained the second. Next session Ramsay entered on the study of mathematics, to which he now became greatly attached. He had begun to study astronomy by himself, and copied out a short system from a book which had been lent to him by a class-fellow. He drew the figures with a fork for want of a compass, and was reckoned the best youthful mathematician in his class. During the long vacation he prosecuted his mathematical studies with enthusiastic ardour, MEMOIR. xix generally getting up at four o'clock in the morning, and many times not going abroad till nine in the evening. He could go over the whole of Euclid mentally, without the diagrams, and this used to be his employment in his walks. He loved the study for its own sake, and overcame many difficulties and discouragements in its pursuit. After this session he continued to prosecute his mathematical studies, and began an acquaintance with French mathematics. He was particularly delighted with the Arithmetic of Sines, and at this early age (seventeen) discovered some curious theorems in that branch. Mr. Ramsay was never married, but in his own way defined the influences of the fits of the tender passion, to which he had been exposed. He owned to having had two the first inspired by Annie Downie, who sat near him in the East Kirk, whose brother's battles he could fight, but to whom for three whole years he could only pay a silent worship and the tidings of whose death, while Ramsay was deep in Lacroix, caused him not a pang ; and the other by that English girl to whom he spoke his love, and was spurned. His wild rush from her father's house, out over the moor for four long miles, till he fell down ex- hausted, may draw a smile from those who knew Ramsay in his latter years "they laugh at wounds who never felt a scar." As regards the xx MEMOIR. forming of John Ramsay's character, would not he himself have said " 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all." Mr. Ramsay graduated in 1817, and on leaving College was for several years much engaged in teaching. Previous to this he had commenced the study of the higher calculus in the writings of Lacroix and others. Every fresh accession of knowledge only sti- mulated him to acquire more. In this way he obtained a large amount of general information, which an iron memory enabled him to retain. He found no difficulty in recollecting facts and reason- ings, but never had a great memory for dates, or isolated quotations. He became tutor in the family of one gentleman after another, till the late Mr. Joseph Hume, noting the capacity of the man, engaged him as his private secretary. Private secretary to Mr. Hume was not an office much in a poet's way, and accordingly we find Mr. Ramsay quickly quitting the uncongenial task of transcribing extracts from Blue Books, or follow- ing out such instructions as are contained in the following very characteristic note of the old Re- former. "SEVEN OAKS, KENT, 2d April 1823. "DEAR SIR All the letters and newspapers that come for me (except the Times, which must MEMOIR. xxi be regularly sent off to Arbroath every night), are to be sent by post to this place, until I advise you again. " Let me know whether you have received any of the Essays from the binder, that I may give you directions respecting them. " Open the desk at which I sit (the fir one), and in the left hand corner you will find a list of sub- scribers to Mill's Essays. Send that list to me in course of post. " Put up 10 copies of the Essays in a parcel, addressed to Alex. Bannerman, Esq., Aberdeen. " Also 20 copies addressed to Mr. James Glen, Montrose. "Also 5 copies addressed to James Goodall, Esq., Arbroath, and put up with Mr. Glen's. "Also 10 copies to Mr. Francis Allan, Hanover Street, Edinburgh ; and on every one of them write, with Mr. Hume's compliments. " Let the 10 copies for Mr. Allan, addressed as directed, be put up in a parcel and taken down immediately to Mr. Plow's, at Charing Cross, who will send it off immediately to Edinburgh. " Whoever takes that parcel to Mr. Plow's, let him ask for 250 copies of the article on Govern- ment, which Mr. Plow has, take them to York Place, and keep them separate from those you have. "Let the parcel for Mr. Glen, and the parcel xxii MEMOIR. for Mr. Bannerman, be neatly put up, sealed, and directed, and you will take them down to Down's Wharf, at Wapping, where the Aberdeen and Montrose Packets lie, and give them to the cap- tains, who will take charge of them, without the expense of entering them as parcels at the Wharf. " If any person call, or you have anything to say, do so daily, and oblige, Yours truly, "JOSEPH HUME. " Mr. Ramsay." " Impracticable," or some such disparaging ver- dict, was the eminently "practical" Joe's rinding on our friend. A few months after leaving Mr. Hume's employment, Mr. Ramsay became one of the teachers in Robert Gordon's Hospital, Aber- deen. In 1827 we find him contributing some mathematical questions to The Ladies' Diary. It is amusing to glance over those neatly printed Ladies' Diaries, in which the mathematicians of those days gave each other nuts to crack. Mr. Ramsay's nuts, although hardish then are not hard now, our mathematicians having hit upon simpler forms of solution. In the comparative quiet and ease of Gordon's Hospital, Mr. Ramsay found leisure for much else besides mathematical trifles. He contributed articles to Blackivood's Magazine, TJte Aberdeen Magazine, and other serials got into correspond- MEMOIR. xxiii ence with Southey, Wordsworth, Joanna Baillie, Miss Mitford, Christopher North, etc. ; in short, began the life of a man of letters. In 1834, he left the Hospital and became editorial writer for the Aberdeen Journal, whose leaders from this date exhibit a vigour and literary finish not common in a provincial paper. Joseph Robertson, James Bruce, William Dun- can, Thomas Spark, and Robert Brown, formed then his close companions. These wrote and spoke much, and enjoyed life with the zest which youth, sound teeth, and a good digestion, ever give. Ram- say's wit made him often cock of the company. The symposiums held in " Susie Affleck's," the squibs let off in the Letter of Marque, Pirate, etc., etc., were of this date. At " Susie's," high jinks were held after the manner of those immortal nights at Ambrose's, with this difference, that a racy verbal description was all that remained of the one, while a mass of glorious reading is the produce of the other. In the Shaver, Quizzing Glass, and Pirate, Ramsay indulged freely in teasing Aber- deen writers and readers. Much of it deserves to perish, but some is good and pure, and will live when the media through which it first saw light are utterly forgotten. The Aberdeen editors of those days delighted in humbugging each other. Local publications were then greatly more numerous than now, and in Aberdeen Magazines, xxiv MEMOIR. Censors, Journals, Chronicles, Pirates, Shavers, Observers, etc., there was much vigorous good writing. His work upon the Journal did not then sit heavy on him, and many a table at that time owed its chief attraction to Ramsay's presence there. He was an exquisite mimic, and at these merry meetings, by some inimitable imita- tion or drollery, would set the table in a roar. His talk was always in " native Doric," and pithily could he use it. As illustrations, amongst many that occur to the writer, the following indicate the vein in which much of his conversation ran. Speaking of the frequent necessity for the rough and ready practical enforcement of principles on the young idea, he added " Yer fine moral 'suasion is all humbug ; Naething persuades like a rap on the lug." " I min' weel when I was scarcely five years old, how my mither taught me that. The good woman had been hearing me repeat ' The Lord's Prayer.' She had added to her other instructions that night the information that next night she wished me to say in addition 'something of my own something that I earnestly wished God to grant me.' Ye can fancy her amazement, when from the lips of her kneeling boy there rose the petition, ' Oh Lord, gi'e my mither a better temper mak' her .' The ' dirl,' that instantly rang through my head, rings in't now when I'm speakin' o't" Changing the MEMOIR. xxv current of conversation, he would dramatise some scene which had occurred during the week, and the rendering of the manners and peculiarities of all the characters introduced was a treat such as is rarely enjoyed. One such scene may be recorded here, but without the facile imitative voice and mobile face of the little man, it loses much of its point. Robbie Brown had given an account of a political harangue of Dr. Kidd's. This report, though reproduced verbatim et literatim, did not please the doctor, who went from one devout admirer to another, as was his custom in such difficulties, asking, " Did I say so and so," till he got enough of "Eh na, Doctor," to satisfy himself. Then hurrying to Woolmanhill, where Brown's little shop was, he demanded of Brown's aged mother, also an admirer of the popular preacher, " Does Robert Brown live here?" "Yes, Doctor." "I want to see him." Robbie was in the cellar, and being lame, came up so far leaning on his crutch. As the head appeared above the floor level, he stopped at the shout of the irate polemic, " Are you Robert Brown ? " " Yes, Doctor." " You write for the papers." No answer. " You put words into my mouth which I never uttered." No answer. " You put a lie on the lips of a minister of the gospel." No word from Robbie, who "stood on the leg that was good," waiting the clearing of the storm. It came in the following thunder-clap. " You've done that, sir, xxvi MEMOIR. and I'll hunt you I'll hunt you thro' earth I'll hunt you to ." Ramsay's dramatised version of the scene was exquisite; "Old Mrs. Brown, weeping and crying, " Oh, Rob, Rob, I tell't ye nae to meddle wi' the papers. An' ye canna thrive fin ye've interfered wi' the ministers. Oh, Rob, Rob, ye canna brak anither mither's heart." The Hebraist's thundering, and Robbie's calm serenity, were all done justice to. Mr. Ramsay was at a dinner party, in the days when black velvet vests were held to be the correct thing to wear, his honest black cloth one drew down a shower of jokes upon him from Dr. D . till Ramsay stopped the medico's fun by naively uttering, " Doctor, doctor, the mort-cloth is not the insignia of my profession." "Ramsay, I'll paint your portrait for that hit," said Mr. Giles, and painted forthwith it was.* " Why do you let Mr. Power of the Aberdeen Herald go on so ?" said some one in the course of the evening to Mr. Ramsay : the question evoked from Ramsay the neat quotation "Ah ! The pomp of Heraldry, The pride of Power, Alike await the inevitable hour." Having a deep reverence for things sacred, * Now the property of the writer ; Mr. Giles at his death having bequeathed it to him. MEMOIR. xxvii Ramsay was yet intolerant of everything approach- ing to cant or formalism, and the constant protest which he felt constrained to make against the sayings and doings of the "unco guid" who drifted across his path, often led to his own feeling and practice being misunderstood. Flowing from this, or rather accompanying it, there was in Ramsay, as in many thoughtful and right-minded Scotchmen and Scotchwomen of days gone by, an audacity of thought and speech in dealing with sacred things which in a differently constituted mind would have bordered on profanity. His quaint apology for cursing a man who had done him grievous wrong "They're guid Auld Testament curses," his message to an old spinster " Tell Kirstie that she winna be comfortable in the kingdom o' heaven, for there's neither cats nor scandal there," his reply to a self-righteous friend, who had gratified his suppressed love for excitement by attending an oratorio, and lamented to Ramsay his having missed the singing of the Psalms, " Like eneuch, like eneuch, Geordie, listen ye to as mony o' the Psalms o' David as ye can here, for ye'll no get mony o' them faar ye're gaun." "Your wife re- minds me o' the commandments." "Why?" "Be- cause she is exceeding broad," are specimens of the freedom with which this audacious wit touched on things which to another mind would have been hedged in and sacred. xxviii MEMOIR. About this time Mr. Ramsay seems to have resolved on launching a volume of his poems on the world, but he appears to have proceeded with commendable caution. He had ready beside him a quantity of MS. He had been greatly praised for what he had already published, and a laudable desire for fame led him on ; but the common-sense shrewdness of Poet-laureate Southey and Mr. Robert Chambers, as shown in the following letters, nipped the notion in the bud : " KESWICK. " SlR Your letter with its enclosed poems has this day reached me. I am sorry you have been at the trouble and expense of sending them to one who has no means of promoting your wishes, having no connection with newspapers or magazines, nor with any of the persons engaged in, or con- ducting them. Thirty or forty years ago your poems would have obtained the notice and the approbation which they deserve ; but it is your misfortune, like that of very many others, to live at a time when fine literature (not to mention its other diseases) is desperately sick of a surfeit. Excessive competition, which is at the root of all our national evils, affects this as it does everything else. " From such compositions, however great their merit, it is hopeless now to look for any remunera- tion, unless they are published by subscription ; MEMOIR. xxix and success in that way must depend wholly upon the number and activity of an author's friends. He must be a fortunate man who can count upon enough to encourage him in making the attempt. " I wish I could have given you a more cheering reply ; but this is the melancholy truth. I remain, Sir, Yours in all good-will, ROBERT SOUTHEY." EXTRACT from a LETTER to GEORGE MONRO by ROBERT CHAMBERS. " His poem came to my hands without a full signature, and it seemed to me so beautiful that I feared some one was passing off a piece of Herrick's upon us as original. Accordingly I went to a library, and painfully looked over the whole of the mingled garden and nettle-field of that man's works, to ascertain if ' My Grave ' were among them. It was not, and I published it without any signature whatever. Poetry is so little in our way, that I cannot encourage your friend to write any more of that kind of thing for the Journal? After this he did not cease to write poetry, as the contents of this volume show ; but he never again seriously entertained the thought of collecting into a volume what he had written. In after years xxx MEMOIR. he burned much of it ; but enough is here given to show that " the light which never shone on sea or land the poet's consecration and his dream" was his. Long extracts from Journal editorials on the governmental polity of the period political party struggles, or parish politics even, are not to be worked up as " packing" for this volume. Nor, interesting though they be, will the Editor be tempted into quotations from those clear strong essays in which Mr. Ramsay fought "The Kirk's" fight against the secessionists of the day. No grander moral spectacle did the world ever see than that crowd of educated gentlemen leaving the Church of their fathers, and their daily bread, for a principle. Scotland, and the Church of Scotland, gained much by their self-sacrifice. Unquestionable good has arisen out of the evil of that day, nee tamen consumebatur. The reasonings and writings of the so-called Erastian party were sound and good, and Mr. Ramsay's writing was not behind the- best, but it is better left where it lies. Those interested know where to find it. To the present race and to the general reader it offers no attraction. The fight is over, the feuds forgotten " the glory dies not, and the grief is past." In 1846-7 some influential friends made an effort to advance Mr. Ramsay's interests by secur- MEMOIR. xxxi ing for him the editorship of the Edinburgh Evening Courant, then as now the leading Conservative journal in Scotland, Lord Aberdeen " Athenian Aberdeen," among others doing all he could to promote his interests. " I have been a regular reader of the Journal? says his Lordship, "and have always found reason to approve of the manner in which it has been conducted. . . . The ability and temper exhibited in the principal articles, I think, are incontestable. ... I shall be glad if any favourable opinion expressed by me should be of use to you in your endeavours to obtain a more lucrative and less laborious situation, but I shall very sincerely regret the loss of your services in a quarter where I think they have been eminently useful." While these negotiations were proceeding, an event occurred which brought them to a close. His mother died. She had been abroad at her daily walk, and was passing home somewhere about Queen Street, when a horse and cart knocked her over. She was carried home, de- clining to allow any one to tell her son, and giving as her reason, " It's Saturday, his busy day, an' he'll ken sune eneuch." She lingered some little time, but died of the effects of the shock on the morning of the soth June 1847, a S e d eighty-two years. Deep and devoted was Mrs. Ramsay's love to her son. From her he inherited his wit and xxxii MEMOIR. love of letters. The keen, tidy, little gentlewoman was much respected by all who knew her, and there were many besides the Grammar-School teacher who did John Ramsay a good turn "for the sake of his mother, Betty M'Donald." Her last advice to her son was very eminently characteristic "Do your duty, run no risks, and put your trust in Christ" Her last articulate utterances were " I canna bide here." This irreparable loss crushed him. He stopped his friends in their candidature for the editorship of the Courant, and shortly after gave up all connection with the Aberdeen Journal. The Editor cannot pass this important point in his friend's career v/ithout giving some slight sketch of what Mr. Ramsay's fourteen years' work on this excellent paper represented. He had written all the original articles political, ecclesiastical, literary, antiquarian, and miscellaneous, in number rather over nine thousand. When he joined the Journal, its cir- culation, according to the Parliamentary Returns, was Nineteen Hundred stamped copies weekly ; when he left, it was Three Thousand Two Hundred odd. The exhaustive and readable essay upon " Newspapers" was written by Mr. Ramsay a few months before leaving the Journal. It had been meant to be of service at the Centenary banquet, January 1848, but was not so used. It is here printed for the first time. Amidst much in it that MEMOIR. xxxiii is Isaac Disraeli's, there is enough of John Ramsay to make us grateful that he wrote it. In 1851 he was an unsuccessful candidate for the Chair of Mathematics in his "Alma Mater." His fitness for this appointment, which would not have been doubted by any one who knew him intimately, was certified by such men as Dr. Olinthus Gregory, Dr. Anderson, and others. This dis- appointment evidently preyed upon him " set his hair up," as he would say " giving him no joy in man or woman either." His own diagnosis of his case was ingenious if not scientific. " Suppressed irritation, pent up ire, ails me." " Quid keep's, Ramsay," said a friend, to whom he was telling this, "If you suppressed or keepit back ony, you've let out plenty." Mr. Ramsay continued in impaired health for some years, and frequently talked about quitting Aberdeen, but never could succeed in tearing him- self away from the familiar places for more than a few weeks at a time. Gilcomston, the Heading Hill, Black's Buildings, Spa Street, the houses where his mother had lived, the churchyard where she slept, had irresistible power over him. He had a deep poetic reverence for the past, and a nervous dislike to change. At length this lassitude and depression wore off, and we find him again writing archaeological papers, pensive notices of " friends that round him fell," energetic defences of xxxiv MEMOIR. some time-honoured building, or ancient right assailed. The grand old belfry of Saint Nicholas again asserted over him its magic power " Here he found A sweeter paradise of sound, Than where the sirens take their summer stands, Among the breathing waters and glib sands." In his boyhood, "Maria and Lawrence" had drawn him, by their deep melodious tones, into many a close communing with Carr the sexton, beneath the dust-laden beams of the old Tower. Carr was dead now, but Drum's Aisle and the bells were there, fascinating as ever, and many an hour was spent by Mr. Ramsay in quiet meditation in the belfry and the aisle ; while not many years elapsed before his intimate acquaintance with the tower and its bells became of great use. Under the provostship of Mr. Webster, who entered into the movement with great spirit, a handsome equipment of bells was presented to the Church of Saint Nicholas. " Hono- rabilis Vir" is all that remains legible of the in- scription on the monument of Provost William Leyth, who presented the two great bells, Maria and Lawrence, to the Church, in expiation of his having slain Bailie Catnach at Barkmill in a quarrel. More than five centuries had passed since that expiatory gift was made, but it was left to the citizens and sons of Bon-Accord in distant lands to complete, in 1857, the present peal of eight bells. MEMOIR. xxxv Change-ringing was then little practised, and less understood, in Aberdeen, and Mr. Ramsay, with commendable zeal and rare enthusiasm, set about learning it scientifically and thoroughly. He neither spared himself nor his friends, but worked in the belfry, and wrote to every man of note in cam- panological matters. He thus accumulated a great amount of information which he worked up into a variety of papers. They have never been published, and are unsuited for this volume. Many an evening, at curfew hour, has the writer stood in the belfry, while Mr. Ramsay, with coat off, by voice and hand, taught his " sett." He had made himself a good ringer, and was proving himself a good teacher, when a studied insult drove him in disgust from the belfry. For many years, with intervals of quiet, a keen discussion had been carried on as to the best means of shutting the door of one of the two Northern Universities. Dr. Johnson in 1773 des- cribed them "In both" (King's and Marischal) said he, " there are professors of the same parts of learning, and the Colleges hold their sessions and confer degrees separately, with total independence one of the other." Between 1684 and 1742 the Marischal College and University of Dr. Johnson's time had arisen, and the building having (1826) be- come dilapidated and insufficient in size for the work it had to do, an effort was made to secure for its re- xxxvi MEMOIR. construction part of an unappropriated government grant as supplemental aid to the liberal subscription which the citizens had raised. The application was successful (1834), and fully 20,000 were granted by Parliament for the purpose. Marischal College was then handsomely rebuilt its professorial staff and standard of teaching raised in efficiency. The irritation left on the minds of the professors and friends of the sister University by this success the latent dread of being still more eclipsed by such men as had been teaching in Marischal College, and such alumni as they had sent out into the world during the first quarter of the century and the dislike to having a rival standard of efficiency so close to their door, rankled in the minds of the older corporation. The position and prospects of Marischal College were thus felt to be less a gain to education, than a loss to King's College and University. This feeling had culmin- ated in 1835, in the introduction of a Bill into Parliament to unite the two Universities ; but the measure was defeated. For twenty years Mr. Ramsay did his share of the party-writing which filled the local papers on this vexed question, and so hotly did the quarrel rage, that " Fusionist" and " Anti-Fusionist " became terms of endearment as powerful as " Intrusion " and "Non-Intrusion " slang had ever been. With Mr. Ramsay's voluminous writings upon this subject the writer does not mean MEMOIR. xxxvii to meddle. While, however, claiming for Mr. Ramsay his position in the front van of those who fought for the City University, he feels com- pelled in justice to add that Mr. Ramsay did not stand alone. We cannot say of him, " of all the faithless faithful only he." Dr. Torrie, Dr. Daun, Mr. Leslie of Powis, Dr. Mearns of Kineff, Mr. Fraser of Saint Clement's, and a host of other King's College men fought consistently for the rights of Marischal College. They fought, however, an unequal fight, as their antagonist now had a few skilful diplomatists managing her interests, while the urban University was weakened by the very incongruity of the crowd of untried defenders who, in pamphlet, speech, paper, on plat- form, in Town Council, or at Head Court, ventilated each his pet project. The Aberdeen demand for duplicate arts classes helped King's College most effectually. The disciplined few defeated the un- skilled many, and the wishes of a great city and district were set aside to benefit the Professors, and to give to the Aberdeen Medical School a set of handsome class-rooms. And thus, for these ends only, was blotted out in 1860 the individuality of a noble institution, nobly used, whose very name and legend was a glory to the city. The cost of education in the north of Scotland was raised enormously, and so great is the effect of this increased cost, that at the present day, with an increased population, there xxxviii MEMOIR. are not a score more entrants at the University than used to present themselves at each of the Colleges when the Universities were separate and distinct. During the fifty years that preceded the Union, the carefully-guarded chairs of Marischal College had been filled by such men as Campbell, Beattie, Brown, Hamilton, Copland, Black, Macgillivray. The Senatus-filled seats at King's during the same period had been honoured by three names of distinguished merit Gerard, Eden Scott, and Mearns. A Professor at Marischal College told the world with the coolness of an Old Bailey lawyer, that " this fusion of the Colleges was to be for the benefit of the poor." If, "sotto voce" he had added, "professors," the object has doubtless been gained, otherwise, one may look in vain for the good that has resulted from the amalgamation. To the subject of this memoir the excitement of the discussion, and the stirring interest he took in the struggle, did more good than all the "waters of Israel." Again his dapper little figure sunned itself in Union Street, and many a table was again joyous with his wit. Mr. Ramsay's political feelings were at no time markedly positive, and being facile with his pen, and fond of using it, the passing topics of the hour were written about in the Herald, Free Press, or Journal indiscriminately. In the pages of all these his hand may be traced during the last MEMOIR. xxxix ten years of his life. The trial of the woman M'Lauchlan in Glasgow the repairs and restora- tion of St. Machar's Cathedral the returning Municipal Elections the need of a new Fish Market ; in short, nothing came amiss to his head and hand. The gratitude of an old pupil, who had made a fortune in India, and, dying about this time, bequeathed a few hundred pounds to Mr. Ramsay, helped to swell the little store, which, beginning with his good thrifty mother's savings, had since her death grown steadily in her son's hands. He was very careful and economical, and lived on what many would have called a starvation pittance, saving and setting aside a little every year, giving at the same time many a thanklessly-received help to some needy one. There still live among us " lorn, forsaken brothers," who, by Mr. Ramsay's timely aid were enabled to "take heart again." In such matters he let not his right hand know what his left had done, and when discovered, his hasty remark would be " we'll get a blessin' wi' the lave, and never miss't." His tastes were simple, and in a grave and serious tone he would often denounce the extravagance of some one of the Aberdeen " Upper Ten Thousand," who for the day was foremost in the wild race of waste and dissipation. The future, " that all haill hereafter," was never xl MEMOIR. absent from his mind, and this too close intro- spection to which he was ever submitting himself, had the usual hurtful result. At three previous periods of his life, but now with greater severity and longer continuance of mental disquiet, he was confined to bed, almost seeming " like one that was of sense forlorn," seeing scarcely one of the friends of his untroubled days, and feeling an unutterable longing for "the rest that remaineth" "I know in whom I have believed." " I neither am, nor ever was, sceptic or free-thinker, tell him t/iat," he said, referring to one who had doubted the sincerity of his faith. While recovering from this illness 1865 he wrote "The Sick Chamber," and slowly once again came back among old familiar faces for the last time. A couple of years of comparative health many little contributions thrown off old favourite sketches re-written and re-touched sparkles of the old wit, mellowed by time were still gladden- ing the homes and hearts of the few friends whom he now visited, when an attack of bronchitis laid him down, prostrating and shattering in a few weeks the hale and hearty little man. An old school-fellow, a rich metropolitan merchant, being in Aberdeen, and hearing of his illness, called to see him at Black's Buildings. " So ye never married, Robert." " No, Ramsay, I got a wife and family handed to me ready made." " Oh, MEMOIR. xli yes, I recollect" (remembering that a widowed sister and her children had been taken to his friend's house). "Ye" re doing the work o' yer heavenly father, takin' care o' the widow and the fatherless, and it'll no be forgotten ; it'll be a crown o' joy and rejoicing to you ae day." Returning summer brought no renewed strength ; he moved from one house to another in search of health, and found his last home on earth in Marischal Street, in the house that once was Historian Kennedy's. There for months he lingered, pre- paring with his own hands his last will and settle- ment, bequeathing to the fund for Aged and Indi- gent Gentlewomen the greater part of that little which it had cost him so much to accumulate. He suffered greatly during the last four months of his life ; yet ever and anon gleams of the old power flashed out. One instance, occurring a few weeks before his decease, brings the man so completely before those who knew him, that the writer does not hesitate to give it. " You are placing too much trust in medicine for relief, Mr. Ramsay," said a dear kind friend to him. " Ay, ay, that's a' very good o' you, who never had a day's illness a' yer life." " Oh, but, Mr. Ramsay, my time of trial and pain will come." " I'm nae sure o' that ; it's whom the Lord loveth that He chasteneth." Chastened sore he was, with much suffering, struggling into that brighter day, yet, leaning firmly on that one xlii MEMOIR. arm which could alone sustain him, he passed down the dark valley, and entered into his rest, on the morning of Saturday, the 4th June 1870 ; and, on the seventh day of the same month, amidst flowers that love had strewn around his grave, the friends of early years laid him beside his mother in " the Auld Kirkyard," where, " after life's fitful fever he sleeps well." 25 DEE STREET, ABERDEEN. 1st November 1870. SELECTED WRITINGS. MY GOOD OLD AUNT. AH ! never, never, can my heart forget My good Old Aunt I was her infant pet ! Methinks I see her in her sober trim So clean so tidy, but by no means prim That pointed backward to the olden time When she, and many gone, were in their prime. Her decent head-dress of transparent lace A simple ribbon fastened to its place j Beneath the chin it formed a little knot, Above her brow there bound it to the spot A tiny brooch of sparkling garnet stone ; Her chastened taste permitted that alone To deck her forehead, where the " almond tree" Usurped the place where auburn used to be ! Around her neck, as pure as summer dawn, Was thrown a kerchief of unsullied lawn ; Let not the belles within our own good town Deride the antique fashion of her gown : What though the sleeve just reached the elbow-joint ? What though the train seems rather from the point ? What though its rustling length would hardly suit The wanton mincing of some pretty foot ! Still she'd salute me with endearing word Her " sweet" her " darling" or her " bonny bird!" Would gently stroke my little head, the while B MY GOOD OLD A UNT. The action suited by her kindly smile ! Would make me con the hymn or simple prayer ; From naughty thought would caution to forbear ; Would speak of Him who loves the little child, Who tends the lamb, and clothes the floweret wild ; Of that most happy place where enter none That lack the temper of the little one ; To that thrice holy book would draw mine eye, And lead me on, mine infant skill to try Its sacred page to scan ; and when away To luring print my giddy thought might stray, Would still endeavour, with some wile of love, To hint a lesson of the things above ! Then, from her pocket there would ever come The pretty book confectionary plum ; And as I kissed my hand with beaming eyes, More pleased than since with some far greater prize, The mother's heart would glisten in her eye ! But her true love had died : and when her sigh Had caught my ready notice, then I took Her hand, with childhood's unsuspecting look, And asked, in lisping accent, if she ailed 1 Her quivering hand her eyes a moment veiled ! 'Twas but a passing cloud for the clear blue Of their fair sky resumed its customed hue. And when, at walks, I toddled in her hand To daisied mead, or sea-begirting sand, With ceaseless converse we beguiled the way : Then from her side I oft would scour away, To cull some pretty weed or shining shell Where ocean's mimic murmurs seemed to dwell. And she would smile to mark my childish glee, When fleeing from the fast-pursuing sea ; MY GOOD OLD A UXT. 3 And, when I bilked the drenching of the spray, Her feeble cheer would join my shrill huzza. ! Much would I prattle of the passing sail, When scudding fast before the favouring gale. Much of the finny tenants of the wave, Much of the " sinking sands," and " mermaid's cave ;" Much of the hidden treasures of the deep, Where many crews of gallant sailors sleep The sleep that needs nor couch nor downy pillow ! Nor constant lulling of the rolling billow ! And when the Sabbath brought its heavenly calm, With chime of bell, and voice of simple psalm, How pleased was I to seek the house of prayer, My hand in hers ! With what a solemn air Precocious mannikin ! I took my seat ! Far was the flooring from my dangling feet, Unwelcome neighbours of the muslin gown Of buckram spinster, whose forbidding frown And jerking jog, and eye as fierce as cat's, Denounced both marriage and its plaguy brats ! But my old maid would draw me to her side, With shoes and all, and looked so gratified When I would note the text in holy book, From which the man of God his counsel took, And still would help her fading sight to trace Th' appointed service to its proper place. And when some pettish mood or froward pranks Procured me something in the shape of thanks (For some transgression of a high command), From dreaded ferule, or the ready hand, Bent on performance of the parent's duty, In stern accordance with the moral beauty Of that same proverb which seems rather odd MY GOOD OLD AUNT. To all who feel the fondling of the rod ; How she would strive to soothe my little grief, And to my faults would still refuse belief! Of some " bad boy " she now and then would hear, Yet sure she was it could not be " her dear ! " And when, with coming years, I laid aside The child the boy for the gay stripling's pride, And stepp'd abroad in all the confidence Of what I deemed my own matured sense, Careless of counsel of success secure In hope, so rich ! in caution, very poor ! With what delight she viewed my ripening years Myself the centre of her hopes and fears ! At length, I helped to lay her reverend head Gently upon her last and lowly bed. Still to her grave my pensive steps I bend, To bless my early venerable friend ! Ah ! often 'midst the tumults of the strife Of joys and sorrows in my after life, Would I bethink me of my good old maid, And e'en would fancy that her friendly shade (If such permission to the saints were given) Might steal a moment from the bliss of heaven To touch my heart ! Did not the contrite tear My better thoughts bespeak her presence near ? How dear, O memory ! thy reflective power To render back the bygone happy hour ! Too oft, alas ! thou only bringest gloom From the dim precincts of the beacon-tomb Of days departed ! When thou dost display A pleasing dream of some past halcyon day, We yearn for joys that never must return, As fondly as we vainly clasp the cherished urn ! CRITICISM ON ADDISON. ADDISON is justly regarded as one of the earliest and greatest improvers of the English language. During a period, which some have been pleased to consider the Augustan age of English Literature, his style was esteemed the standard of elegant com- position. Although he is by no means an absolutely faultless author, and more recent usage has rendered his style in some respects antiquated, yet there are few writers whose style can be more safely recom- mended as a general model for imitation. The style of Addison is, generally speaking, extremely simple and unaffected. It is perspicuous and pure in a very remarkable degree ; and if occasionally it is not very precise, it is at least as much so as his subject requires. In the construction of his sen- tences he is distinguished by graceful ease and insinuating melody. He often displays a rich vein of figurative language, which greatly enhances the beauty of his manner. Although he was careful, even to fastidiousness, in polishing his style, yet it bears no obtrusive marks of labour, no appearance 6 CRITICISM ON ADDISON. of constraint, but a happy union of elegance, sim- plicity, and ease. The moral characteristics of his works are of a very high order. All his writings are distinguished by a spirit of modesty, of urbanity, of philanthropy, and of devotion to the great interests of religion and morality, which is as creditable to his heart, as the merely intellectual excellences of his style are to his head. If, in any respects, he is deficient, it is, as already remarked, in precision and strength ; a circumstance which renders his style more suitable to such works as the Spectator, than to those which require a higher and more elaborate kind of composition. This defect, however, may have naturally arisen from the light nature of some of the subjects of which he treats, and the peculiar manner which he thought fit to adopt in order to secure a favourable reception from the public for others of a graver character. The more we consider the character of the age in which he wrote, the greater will the merit of Addi- son's writings appear in effecting a remarkable revolution in our literature, the beneficial effects of which have been transmitted through succeeding years, and are still conspicuous at the present day. True it is that, before his time, various writers had appeared who had exhibited unquestionable proofs of the vast capabilities of our language ; yet, while these were distinguished for originality of thought, and masculine energy of style, they were frequently CRITICISM ON ADDISON. 7 deficient in that purity, harmony, simplicity, and polished grace, which Addison displayed in so re- markable a degree as mainly to contribute to the fixation of the English language. We shall now proceed to consider the most remarkable points, both in sentiment and style, in that paper of the Spectator, from the pen of Addison, which is the proper subject of this essay. In endeavouring, however imperfectly, to execute this task, we trust we shall experience that measure of indulgence to which its difficulty is entitled. The subject of the paper is Westminster Abbey. It so happens that a distinguished writer of the present day (Wash- ington Irving) has treated the same subject in one of his essays in the Sketch Book. An occasional comparison of the different ways in which these two distinguished writers handle the same topic cannot fail to prove an interesting and profitable employment. The subject of this essay appears to us to have been peculiarly suited to the genius of Addison. The reflections to which a survey of this venerable cathedral naturally give rise, are of that pensive, moral, and religious character which are much akin to the subjects of many of Addison's most successful efforts. For example, the train of thought which might be supposed to be suggested by an edifice in which repose the ashes of many of the great and good of a series of ages, must be of a kindred nature with that which is so beautifully 8 CRITICISM ON ADDISON. developed in his Vision of Mirza. Although the subject of the present paper is similar to those of various others in which the master-mind of Addison shines forth in all its strength and elegance, yet it strikes us that he has not, on the present occasion, displayed those transcendant qualities in an equal degree. This is by no means an uncommon case with distinguished writers. It sometimes happens that in treating subjects which seem to be pecu- liarly adapted to their genius, they unaccountably fall short of their usual success ; while, in handling others of a less promising nature, they display a measure of talent which is as great as it is, in some respects, unexpected. We do not mean to say that the paper which is the subject of discussion is un- worthy of Addison in every respect ; we only mean to express our conviction, and that with all due sub- mission, that it is not, on the whole, the happiest of his essays, and certainly inferior to various others of the same class. We think that, in general, there is a want of keeping in it, and that he introduces certain reflections which do not harmonise with the peculiar train of sentiment which we deem congenial to the subject. Westminster Abbey is an edifice devoted to the service of the Almighty, and a sanc- tuary for the gathered dust of many generations. The thoughts, therefore, which the contemplation of such a building inspires, must naturally be of a solemn, elevated, and pensive complexion ; and, CRITICISM ON ADDISON. g consequently, reflections of a light, trivial, or sar- castic nature, appear to us to be quite unsuitable to the occasion. But to proceed to particulars. Generally speaking, the introductory sentence of an essay is the most difficult and important part of it. It ought in some measure to be a key to the whole. It ought to be perspicuous, of moderate length, and embued with the pervading character of the essay. The first sentence of this essay is as follows : " When I am in a serious humour, I very often walk by myself in Westminster Abbey, where the gloominess of the place, and the use to which it is applied, with the solemnity of the build- ing, and the condition of the people who lie in it, are apt to fill the mind with a kind of melancholy, or rather thoughtfulness, that is not disagreeable." If we may be allowed to hazard an opinion on this sentence, we would say that it appears to us to be rather loose in its texture, and somewhat de- ficient in harmony. We consider the term " gloomi- ness" somewhat inappropriate, as conveying ideas of a disagreeable nature, which are foreign to the subject. We think, too, that the conjunctive par- ticles employed in enumerating the four character- istics of the building here mentioned might have been omitted, and their cumulative force thereby increased. We think that the expressions, " a kind of melancholy, or rather thoughtfulness," are perhaps a little redundant, and that the idea might io CRITICISM ON ADDISON. have been better conveyed by a single expression. Let us compare this with the introductory sentence of Irving's essay. " On one of those sober, or rather melancholy days in the latter part of autumn, when the shadows of morning and evening almost mingle together, and throw a gloom over the de- cline of the year, I passed several hours in rambling about Westminster Abbey." We think this intro- ductory sentence superior to Addison's in all essen- tial points. It surpasses it in harmony, precision, and propriety. Nothing can be finer than its melody ; and nothing more congenial to the sub- ject than the train of sentiment which ^it breathes. In these respects it strongly reminds us of the in- troductory sentence of the vision of Mirza already alluded to. Passing over the next sentence, which does not seem to contain anything remarkable, we would beg leave to make a few remarks on the three sentences which follow : " Most of them i.e. the inscriptions on the tombstones recorded nothing else of the buried person, but that he was born upon one day, and died upon another ; the whole history of his life being comprehended in these two circumstances, that are common to all mankind. I could not but look upon these regis- ters of existence, whether of brass or marble, as a kind of satire on the departed persons, who had left no other memorial of them, but that they were born, and that they died. They put me in mind CRITICISM ON ADDISON. 11 of several persons mentioned in the battles of heroic poems, who have sounding names given them, for no other reason but that they may be killed, and are celebrated for nothing, but being knocked on the head." We do not think that the sentiments here expressed are in strict accordance with good taste and suitable feeling. The occa- sion on which they are made, is, we think, of too solemn and pensive a nature for such sarcastic remarks. The contemplation of the memorials, whether more simple, or more gorgeous, of mor- tality, we should think, must dispose the mind to feelings of a subdued and tender nature. In such a survey we must feel that death levels all distinc- tions arising from connection with the present world ; and that it is the means of introducing all mankind into a state, in which it were unwise to form too sanguine conjectures respecting the fate of those who, in this world, were apparently as faultless as is consistent with the fallen state of humanity ; or to indulge in too severe suspicions with regard to the condition of those who, in the eyes of their fellow-mortals, seemed less worthy of approbation. On such an occasion every harsher thought ought to be hushed, and every desire to be quenched to draw the frailties of the departed from their drear abode. To say that they erred, is but to say that they were mortal. The remark about the simplicity of most of the inscriptions is not 12 CRITICISM ON ADD I SON. generally just. The more simple that a monu- mental inscription is, it is always the more appro- priate ; and there are some cases in which simplicity is far more striking than the most ornate eulogium. For example, could any inscription be more appro- priate for a monument to Newton than the name alone, with the simple record of his birth and death ? In such a case the name alone would convey an idea of affecting sublimity, which the most laboured epitaph could not impart. The mere inscription of the persons' names, with the dates of their births and deaths, cannot be justly regarded as a kind of satire on their memories. The absence of monu- mental encomium is no evidence that the deceased were unworthy of praise ; and the most eulogistic epitaph may be undeserved. The remarks here, therefore, appear to us to be unworthy of the occa- sion, and at variance with the dictates of proper feeling and just views of human nature. The allusion to the heroes " mentioned in the battles of heroic poems," appears to us to be far-fetched and constrained ; and the phrase, "knocked on the head," savours too much of vulgarity. Let us compare this passage with a corresponding extract from the essay of Irving. " The epitaphs were entirely effaced, the names alone remained, having no doubt been renewed in latter times. I remained some little while musing over these casual reliques of antiquity, thus left like wrecks upon the distant CRITICISM ON ADDISON. 13 shore of time, telling no tale but that such beings had been and had perished, teaching no moral but the futility of that pride which hopes still to exact homage in its ashes, and to live in an inscription. A little longer, and even these faint records will be obliterated, and the monument will cease to be a memorial." The sentiments, and the language in which they are conveyed, of the above extract, appear to us to be far more proper than those of Addison in the extract already quoted. A little farther on Addison says, " I entertained myself with the digging of a grave," etc. To our ears the use of the word " entertained " appears to be some- what strange. This, however, arises from the change which its application has undergone since the days of Addison. The words " entertain " and " enter- tainment," according to present usage, convey the idea of diversions of a light and joyous character. We talk of the entertainment of the evening with reference to the amusements of the theatre ; but, in the common acceptation of the term, the digging of a grave is by no means an entertaining spectacle. However, all that Addison means by thus entertain- ing himself, is, that he interested himself in con- templating the performance of one of the sad offices of mortality. We proceed to the next sentence, which, though a long one, we are glad to quote as matter of commendation. " Upon this I began to consider \vith myself what innumerable multitudes 14 CRITICISM ON ADDISON. of people lay confused together under the pavement of that ancient cathedral ; how men and women, friends and enemies, priests and soldiers, monks and prebendaries, were crumbled amongst one another, and blended together in the same common mass ; how beauty, strength, and youth, with old age, weakness, and deformity, lay undistinguished in the same promiscuous heap of matter." It is un- necessary to point out particularly the excellences of this sentence. It is just in sentiment, clear in expression, and harmoniously balanced through- out. In the next sentence there occurs an unfortu- nate expression. It runs thus : " After having surveyed this great magazine of mortality, as it were, in the lump," etc. The phrases " as it were," and "in the lump," we consider objectionable, par- ticularly the latter, with reference to the occasion on which it is employed. We may with propriety talk of surveying a package of goods, or any equally undignified quantity, " in the lump," but the phrase as used in the present instance is certainly out of place. In the following four sentences Addison again indulges in a strain of sarcastic remark, which, although it may be partially just, we consider, for reasons already assigned, to be somewhat unsuitable. " Some of them were covered with such extravagant epitaphs, that, if it were possible for the dead person to be acquainted with them, he would blush at the praises which his CRITICISM ON ADDIS ON. 15 friends have bestowed upon him." The word " per- son " seems to be here incorrectly used. It appears to imply that the same dead person had a common right to all the extravagant epitaphs, which certainly is not the meaning which the author intended to convey. In a subsequent sentence he says, "In the poetical quarter I found there were poets who had no monuments, and monuments which had no poets." This is rather a summary way of discuss- ing the most interesting part of the Abbey. Let us hear Irving on this point. " I passed some time in Poets' Corner, which occupies an end of one of the transepts or cross aisles of the Abbey. The monuments are generally simple, for the lives of literary men afford no striking themes for the sculptor. Shakespeare and Addison have statues erected to their memories, but the greater part have busts, medallions, and sometimes mere inscrip- tions. Notwithstanding the simplicity of these memorials, I have always observed that the visitors to the Abbey remain longest about them. A kinder and fonder feeling takes place of that cold curiosity and vague admiration with which they gaze on the monuments of the great and the heroic. They linger about these as about the tombs of friends and companions for, indeed, there is something of companionship between the author and the reader. Other men are known to posterity only through the medium of history, which is continually grow- i6 CRITICISM ON ADDISON. ing faint and obscure ; but the intercourse between the author and his fellow men is ever new, active, and immediate. He has lived for them more than for himself ; he has sacrificed surrounding enjoy- ments, and shut himself up from the delights of social life, that he might the more immediately commune with distant minds and distant ages. Well may the world cherish his renown, for it has been purchased, not by deeds of violence and blood, but by the diligent dispensation of pleasure. Well may posterity be grateful to his memory, for he has left it an inheritance, not of empty names and sounding actions, but whole treasures of wis- dom, bright gems of thought, and golden veins of language." The allusion to Addison in this beau- tiful passage we deem highly interesting. It could scarcely occur to the author of the Spectator, while surveying the monuments of departed genius, that, after an interval of a hundred years, a kindred spirit from a foreign land might make a pilgrimage to his tomb, and thus record a tribute of veneration for his memory. In a subsequent sentence he says, " As a foreigner is very apt to conceive an idea of the ignorance or politeness of a nation," etc. Here the word " politeness," as opposed to " ignorance," means an acquaintance with elegant literature and the fine arts. This acceptation of the term is now obsolete. The term "politeness," in its modern sense, is employed to express elegance of manners CRITICISM ON ADDISON. 17 and urbanity of demeanour in social intercourse. The episode, if we may use the term, about Sir Cloudesley Shovel's monument, and the remark on the Dutch monuments which follow, have little else in them remarkable than their being rather out of place and certainly not very complimentary to English taste and, perhaps, not very just. The four following sentences, though sufficiently com- mon-place in point of sentiment and expression, do not contain anything remarkably objectionable, either in the one respect or in the other. In the last three sentences, however, Addison is decidedly him- self. We must quote at length this admirable passage. " When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies in me ; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out ; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion ; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow. When I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect, with sorrow and astonishment, on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind. When I read the several dates of the tombs of some that died yesterday, and some six hundred years ago, I consider that great day when C i8 CRITICISM ON ADD/SON. we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our appearance together." The whole of this pas- sage deserves unqualified praise. We do not think that it contains anything faulty in point of expres- sion, and the sentiments conveyed are admirably suited to the solemnity of the occasion. Each succeeding sentence rises above that which precedes it, in elevation of thought, and the last contains the natural climax of the whole train of reflection. From reflections on the more common chances of life and death, the author ascends to such as relate to the fate of those who were prominent in the world for rank, for genius, or for learning, and at length reaches that great consummation which connects time with eternity, and the circumstances of our globe, and all who it inherit, with the unseen realities of the world beyond the grave. OX TAKING LEAVE OF ABERDEEN. FAIR blows the wind, the lagging waves With murmurs seek the shore, The flowing tide our vessel laves, Old ocean spreads before, And, rolling on his sandy couch, Methinks, seems now to smile To night's fair queen, and fondly crouch, Though lashed to rage erewhile. But time and tide must fail at last, The pilot chides our stay, The canvas wings our straining mast, We bound across the bay ! Sure some there are on shore on board- On whom the pilot's call Came like the knell of all adored By them on earth ; 'tis gall To mark th' embrace all speech above The scarcely breathed "Adieu !" The eloquence of looks which love Interprets " Still be true." 20 ON TAKING LEA VE OF ABERDEEN. And then the fixed the straining eye Bright glistening through a tear, And, mingled with a stifled sigh, The oft-repeated cheer ! Though no such strong emotions shake My heart, it cannot well, Of much that has been dear now take, Without one throb, farewell. What though each dear familiar scene No more may greet mine eye ! Nor time nor place my soul shall wean From days long long gone by ! Those days on which fond mem'ry throws A soft reflective gleam, Sweet as the smile my country shows All in the moon's mild beam ! Farewell ! farewell ! thrice-honoured land ! Still clings my heart to thee ! Though urged my course, by fate's command, Far, far across the sea ! ROYAL VISITS TO ABERDEEN IN OLDEN TIMES. AT a time when the ancient and ever loyal City of Bon-Accord is about to receive a passing visit from our most gracious and beloved Queen, it may be deemed not inappropriate to the auspicious occasion to present a few notes of the circumstances under which some of her Majesty's royal predecessors have honoured Aberdeen with their presence. Some of our old chroniclers will have it, that Aberdeen was one of the residences of the usurper Grig, commonly called Gregory the Great, whose misty history belongs to the latter half of the ninth century. They assure us, that he had what they magniloquently call a " palace " in Aberdeen ; that he bestowed on the city its first charter ; and that he was so specially fond of it, as to speak of it as " his own city." These statements, however, are not borne out by any trustworthy evidence, and must be regarded as in a great measure, if not wholly, fabulous. It is most likely that Aberdeen owed its first 22 ROYAL VISITS TO ABERDEEN charter/ if not its origin, to the munificence and en- lightened patriotism of David I., since the oldest charters extant are partly confirmatory of privi- leges conferred on the citizens by that monarch, but make no reference to earlier marks of royal favour. The first monarch of whose residence in Aber- deen there is authentic evidence is King William the Lion, grandson of David I. He appears to have resided frequently, either in the city or county, between the years 1179 anc ^ I2I 4- The oldest ex- tant charter of the city was granted by him, and is believed to be of the former date. It is still in good preservation. William appears to have had a house in Aberdeen, which, about 1211, he bestowed on the order of Trinity, Red, or Maturine Friars, whose chief business it was to collect funds for the redemption of Christians held in slavery by the In- fidels in Palestine. Of this palace nothing now re- mains ; the site is occupied by the Old Trades Hall. But there is still to be seen in the new Hall a ponderous table, at which tradition says the leo- nine monarch used to preside. It is a very curious piece of furniture, consisting of a massive slab of artificial stone, smoothly polished, and set in a beautiful oak frame of much later date ; the style of the ornaments showing that it belongs to the early part of the seventeenth century. The framework bears the arms of Dr. Guild, who purchased and AY OLDEX TIMES. 23 fitted up the ruins of the monastery as an hospital for decayed burgesses of trade. Alexander II. appears to have been frequently in Aberdeen between the years 1222 and 1235. Old Wynton says that, in the former year, " He held his yule in Abbyrdene." He. too, is said to have had a palace in the city, which he afterwards bestowed on the Preaching or Black Friars, an order of which he was a great patron. Its site was in what now forms the garden of Gordon's Hospital. The building was destroyed at the period of the Reformation, and not a ves- tige of it was visible for many years, until latterly its foundations were accidentally discovered. Be- tween 1272 and 1369, Aberdeen was the occasional residence of Alexander III., John Baliol, Robert the Bruce, and David II. The unfortunate Baliol was taken captive here by John Comyn, Laird of Strathbogie, and delivered up to Edward I. of Eng- land at Montrose. Edward himself came to Aber- deen on the I4th of July 1296, and remained in it for five days. On the i/th he received the homage and oath of allegiance of the burgesses and com- munity. For this act, however, the citizens after- wards made so ample an atonement to "The Bruce," that that illustrious monarch conferred on them many privileges, which are set forth in what is justly called the Great Charter of the Burgh. In 24 ROYAL VISITS TO ABERDEEN some of the battles which he fought, in vindication of his title to the Crown, the citizens of Aberdeen seem to have afforded him signal assistance. We may here mention incidentally that the citi- zens gave undoubted proof of their loyalty and bravery at the battle of Harlaw, July 1411, when their gallant Provost, Sir Robert Davidson, and many of the burgesses, were slain in defending the rights of the Crown against the usurper Donald of the Isles. In the month of July 1448 James II. paid his first visit to Aberdeen, w r hen the Magistrates made him a present, under name of a " propine," of two tuns of Gascony wine, wax candles, and sweet- meats. His Queen paid a visit in January 1455, and was presented with 100 merks in money. James IV. visited Aberdeen in 1492, 1495, 1497, 1504, 1507, 1509, when he received "propines"of wine, v/ax, spiceries, and money. In May 1511 Aberdeen was visited by his Queen, Margaret, eldest daughter of Henry VII. of England. The occasion was afterwards celebrated in a poem written by Dunbar (who seems to have accom- panied the royal party), entitled, "The Queeneis Re- ception at Aberdein." Great preparations were made to receive her Majesty with suitable pomp and cir- cumstance. Commissioners were appointed to raise money to defray the expenses of the occasion ; and the citizens were ordered to decorate the fronts of IN OLDEN TIMES. 25 their houses with arras work, evergreens, and flowers. It appears from Dunbar's poem, that the Queen was met, at some distance from the city, by the burgesses, " richelie arrayit, as became thame to be ;" four of their number, " men of renoun," "In gounes of velvet, young, able, and lustie, To beir the pall of velvet cramasie, Abone her heid, as the custome has bein." Under this canopy the Queen took her seat, and was borne to the Shiprow Port of the city. Here she was welcomed by another procession, " in cap of gold and silk full pleasantlie," and was treated with a succession of masques and pageants. The first represented the Salutation of the Virgin " The sound of menstrallis blawing to the sky." Then came the pageant of " The Orient Kingis three ;" then the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Paradise by an Angel, "with the sword of vio- lence ;" lastly came the Bruce * * that ever was bold in stour, Richt awful, strang, and large of portraitour, Ane noble, dreadful, michtie champion." Then followed a procession of " four-and-twenty maidens young," all clad in green with white hats, and " of marvellous beautie " " Playand on timberallis, and singin richt sweetlie." In fine 26 ROYAL VISITS TO ABERDEEN " At her coming, great was the mirth and joy ; For at the cross abundantly ran wine ; Unto her lodging the town did her convoy ; Her for to treat they set their haill ingine ; A rich present they did to her propine, A costlie cup that large thing would contain, Covered, and full of coin-ed gold richt fine : Be blyth and blissful, Brugh of Aberdeen ! " The gold in the cup amounted to two hundred pounds. I n J 537 James V. visited the city, and was sumptuously entertained in it for the space of fifteen days. The unfortunate Queen Mary visited Aberdeen about August 1562, when she was received with every mark of loyalty and attach- ment She was also here in the end of October that year, when the Earl of Huntly \vas defeated by the Earl of Murray, in the battle of Corrichie, fought in one of the glens of the Hill of Fare, in this county. The Gordon chief and many of his followers were slain ; and many prisoners were conveyed to Aberdeen, including Huntly's second son, the gallant and handsome Sir John Gordon, for whom the Queen is said to have had at one time a strong attachment. He was beheaded in Castle Street on the 2d of November, to the profound grief of the Queen, who was so situated as not to have the power of saving his life. James VI. often found a loyal reception and comfortable quarters in Aberdeen between the years 1581 and AY OLDEN TIMES. 27 1 600. On all these occasions he received " propines " of money, and sometimes levied a needful contri- bution. On the occasion of his marriage with Anne of Denmark, the citizens fitted out a vessel called the NicJwlas (after the patron saint of the city), which was commanded by one of the Bailies, and sailed from Aberdeen, to join the royal squadron bound for Denmark, on the i6th of April 1589. The vessel was completely armed, and decorated with " ensigns, flags, and streamers of war, red side-cloths, and gilded tops." It would appear that James contemplated a visit in 1617, for the Magistrates received a despatch, recommending " that lodgings be prepared in the most handsome, civil, and courtly manner ; with good bedding, well-washed and well-smelled na- perie ; clear and clean vessels, of sufficient large- ness ; plenty of provisions and vivres." Suitable preparations were made, but the King came no farther north than Dunnottar Castle. In 1620, one of the citizens, Sir Thomas Menzies, presented to his Majesty a large pearl found in the brook of Kelly, which runs into the Ythan, not far from Haddo House, and which is said to be " the top pearl in the Crown of Scotland." For this gift the King bestowed on Menzies the honour of knighthood. The next, and last, Sovereign who visited Aberdeen was the "merry monarch," Charles II. 28 ROYAL VISITS TO ABERDEEN During his first exile, the Scottish Parliament having proclaimed him King of Great Britain, Commissioners, one of whom was Provost Jaffray of Aberdeen, were despatched to bring him over from the Continent. He embarked under convoy of a Dutch fleet, and landed at Speymouth on Monday, the 4th of July 1650. After resting at Bog of Gight, now Gordon Castle, he arrived in Aberdeen on the /th, and took up his residence in a house in Castle Street, which some conceive to have been that which is now called the " Bursars' House." His visit to the city was intimated to the Magistrates in the following letter from the Commissioners, of date 23d June 1650 : " Worschipfull and good friendis, we have directed thess to let you know, that the King is saiflie arryved, and intendis, if God permit, to be at Abirdein on Thursday at night ; thairfore ye will tack such cair to prowyd fitt ludgingis for him, and for the Commissioneris, and for the trayne, as may be best haid, on so short adverteismentis ; and we beseik you let nothing be wanting quhich may testifie your effectioun to the native King, quha haith fullie assured all the desyr of his people. No further, but we ar your werie assured freindis. (Signed) Cassillis, Lothiane, Brodie, Geo. Wynram, J. Smith, Al. Jaffray. Speymouth, 23d Jany. 1650. For the Richt Worschipfull the Magistratis of the toun of Abdn. Thess." On his arrival he was received with every mark of distinction and popular attachment. He conferred the honour of knighthood on the Provost, Farquhar /A 7 OLDEN TIMES. 29 of Mounie, and on Mr. Leslie of Eden, who had formerly held that office. The King remained in the town but one night, proceeding next day to Dunnottar. He would appear to have been again in Aberdeen on the 25th of February 1651 the last time that our city enjoyed the honour of the presence of royalty. Now that,* after the lapse of nearly two centuries, we are about to receive a renewal of that distinguished honour, under the happiest auspices, well may we exclaim with old D unbar " Be blyth and blissful, Brugh of Aberdeen ! " * Her Most Gracious Majesty arrived in Aberdeen, for the first time, on the morning of Thursday the 7th September 1848, and this account of "Royal Visits to Aberdeen in Olden Times," appeared in the Aberdeen Journal the day before. LINES ADDRESSED TO A LADY Who sent me a Watch Paper, cut in the form of a DART, a KEY, and a HEART. IN vain the Fair, with skilful hand, The polished scissors plies, And paper any form may take Her fancy can devise. Assailed by far more potent charms, Unconquered I remain, For tears and smiles, and sighs and song, I equally disdain. Cupid his arrows may exhaust May aim with all his skill His darts I dread not, for my breast Is armed with triple steel. If for admittance to my heart, The wily elf should knock, The door is barred the key is safe And potent is the lock. Then know the Fair, though I her gift In complaisance reject not, Yet, for her paper one, my heart She really must expect not. THE AUL'TON CROSS. A REMNANT of this ancient and beautiful fabric, of which the original place has long ceased to know it, was recently rescued from a. situation of most inglorious obscurity, and placed in a fitting asylum in King's College. Our topographers tell us that there formerly stood in the centre of the area fronting the Town House of Old Aberdeen a cross which was formed of an upright stone, raised upon a pedestal of three steps above the level of the street. This stone was surmounted by a figure of the blessed Virgin, and underneath were the armorial bearings of Bishops Dunbar, Stewart, and Gordon. The last named succeeded to the episcopate in 1545, which serves to indicate the period about which the cross was erected. At the era of the Reformation it was defaced by those whose indiscriminating zeal took offence 32 THE AULTON CROSS. at whatever even "smelt somewhat of Popery:" and, after experiencing the inclemency of many a trying season, and the rough manipulation of ruth- less hands ministers of wanton mischief the fabric was finally removed about the time when the Town House was rebuilt. What became of the shaft is not known ; but the stone on which were cut the armorial bearings of the episcopal trio was one day discovered in a smithy in Old Aberdeen, where it had long been degraded into an utensil for holding tackets, old iron, and other odds and ends, tossed into the square cavity into which the top of the shaft had been inserted. To such vile uses had come a portion of a time-honoured fabric, which had once so proudly "cropped the causey!" This curious relic owed its more congenial quarters in King's College to the commendable care of the party who by chance discovered it. In Spalding's Troubles there is a droll passage, from which it appears that this cross was pressed into a Candlemas " lark," played off by certain juveniles of 1643. " Upon the second of Februar," saith he, with notable gravity, " being Candlemas day, the bairns of the Old Town Grammar School, at six hours, cam up the gate with candles lichtit in their hands, crying, rejoicing, and blythe eneuch ; and, being six hours at nicht, cam thus up to the THE AUL'TON CROSS. 33 cross, and round about goes diverse times, climbs to the head thereof, and sets on ane burning torch thereupon. I marvellit, being at sic tyme [of the dour Covenant], and whereof myself had never seen the like. Atour, they went down from the cross, convoying Joh'n Keith, brother to the Earl Marischal, who was their [Candlemas] King, to his lodgings in the Chanonrie, with lichtit candles !" This ebullient demonstration seems greatly to have refreshed the Episcopalian spirit of the wor- thy Commissary Clerk, who lets slip no opportunity of bewailing every falling-away from the obser- vances of the good old times, through the chilling influence of Andrew Cant and his crabbed con- federates. Spalding, indeed, seems to have regarded the " ploy," which he so carefully records, as a cheering revival in a small way a proof that there was yet some hope of young Scotland and a pregnant sign of the times doubtless, " afore something ! " It is just probable that the merry, mad-cap rogues may have got up their " rig " in brave defiance of Cant himself, and all his tyrannical, ascetic whim- sies ; for, of a surety, he appears to have been so noted a hand to " frichten bairns " in his day, that no wonder if, as O'Connell used to say, the young blood might sometimes bethink itself of the wild justice of revenge. Spalding assures us that, on one occasion, when D 34 THE AUL'TON CROSS. some children, outside church, were rather noisy, Cant, who was within, lost all patience with them, and, instead of tipping the requisite wink to the beadle, banged out of the reader's desk chased the young fry from the scene of their " collie- shangie" and then returned to his seat, quite satisfied with himself, and seemingly all the easier for his explosive demonstration, but to the great "admiration" of his worshipping flock, who were exceedingly scandalised by his indecorous sally. Such severities must have rendered him no favourite with the rising race, and may have even provoked the Candlemas crusade which Spalding with such gusto narrateth. The careful circumstantiality, indeed, with which the quaint annalist records the pranks of John Keith, Rex, as aforesaid, and his rollicking con-disciples, would almost suggest a suspicion that the " nickums" had actually coaxed the old chronicler nothing loath to give their "shine" a sunny nook in his Troubles ! NEWSPAPERS. THE origin of periodical records of passing events, subsequently known by the general name of News- papers, is enveloped in much obscurity, any attempt to remove which would involve not only a wide departure from my present purpose, but, I fear, a severe trial of your patience. I pause not, there- fore, to inquire how far the Acta Dinrna, said to have been published at Rome in the time of Julius Caesar, may be placed in the same category with the newspapers of later and present times. Nor will I detain you by canvassing the rival preten- sions of England," Italy, or Germany, to the estab- lishment, during the sixteenth century, of printed newspapers, circulated by post ; although it seems to me that, on the whole, such periodicals first em- anated from Augsburg and Vienna. In England, the first attempt at the establishment of news- papers, of which there is undoubted evidence, seems to have been made about the beginning of the seventeenth century. We hear of " News from 36 NEWSPAPERS, Spain," in 1611 ; " News out of Germany," in 1612, etc. etc. These occasional pamphlets of intelligence soon became regular periodical publications, such as Butler's " Courant,or Weekly News from Foreign Parts," published in 1621. Between this period and 1665, upwards of 350 various publications of this kind are said to have appeared, none of which, however, were long-lived. On the 7th of Novem- ber of the latter year the present London Gazette was established. Of English provincial news- papers, still existing, the oldest is the Stamford Mercury, established in 1695. The parent of the Irish Press is the Dublin Evening Post, first pub- lished in 1725. In regard to Scottish newspapers, we find that the first published in this country was, "A Diurnal of some Passages and Affairs," printed in London, and reprinted in Lcith in the year 1652. It lived about a year. The first newspaper written, prin- ted, and published in Scotland, was the Mercurius Caledonins, edited by Thomas Sydserf, son of the Bishop of Orkney. It appeared weekly, commen- cing on the 3 ist of December 1660, and expiring on 22d March 1661. In 1718 appeared the Edin- burgh Evening Courant. In 1720 the Caledonian Mercury* The oldest paper published in Glas- gow, is the Glasgow Journal, which first appeared in 1713. * Since incorporated with the Scotsman. ED. NEWSPAPERS. 37 The first Scottish newspaper published beyond the Forth was the Aberdeen Journal, the first number of which appeared on Tuesday, the 5th of January 1748. The paper has since regularly ap- peared every week, although the day of publication has been occasionally changed to suit the conveni- ence of the time. The original printer, publisher, and proprietor of the Journal was Mr. James Chal- mers, father of the late, and great-grandfather of the present, proprietor. Mr. Chalmers was a son of the Rev. James Chalmers, originally minister of Dyke, in Morayshire, and afterwards Professor of Divinity in Marischal College, and one of the ministers of this city. To these offices he was ap- pointed in the year 1725, and died in 1745. His son, Mr. Chalmers, learned the art of printing under the City and University printer, Mr. James Nicol, who succeeded his father-in-law, Mr. John Forbes, in these offices, in the year 1710. Between this year and 1705, the period of Mr. Forbes's death, the business was carried on by his widow, Margaret Cuthbeard. Mr. Forbes became printer to the City and University, in the year 1662, on the death of Mr. James Brown, who had held those offices from the year 1649, being the immediate successor of Edward Raban, the first printer in Aberdeen, or the north of Scotland. In the year 1621 a patent was obtained from King James, by Bishop Patrick Forbes, and Sir 38 NEWSPAPERS. Paul Menzies of Kinmundie, Provost of Aberdeen, for establishing printing in this city. In consequence of this patent, Mr. Edward Raban quitted St. Andrews, and settled here in 1622, having been appointed printer to the City and University. From the specimens of his works still extant, he appears to have been no mean master of his art, although then in its comparative infancy in this country. Latterly, Raban appears to have opened a shop at the south end of Broad Street, under the quaint designation of the " Laird of Letters." He appears to have established his printing office in what was then a new house, be- longing to the Corporation, situated on the north side of what was then Castle Street, its south front being a few feet in rear of the back wall of the present North of Scotland Bank. The lower part of this building is said to have been originally occupied as a meat market, the upper-floor as a dwelling-house for the printer, while in the attic- floor was his printing office. In this ancient tene- ment the Journal was printed. There was " Chal- mers' stair," which the learned and ingenious Skinner celebrates as the means of conducting him to an interview with Robert Burns. Mr. Chalmers died in 1764, and was succeeded by his son, the late Mr. James Chalmers, as printer to the City and University. An excellent scholar and a thorough master of his business, Mr. Chal- NEWSPAPERS. 39 mers had previously been employed at Cambridge in printing various works for the University there ; and, a vacancy occurring in its printership, he was a candidate, and lost the appointment, I believe, by an adverse majority of only one vote. On succeed- ing to his father's business in Aberdeen, Mr. Chal- mers continued to publish the Journal, and to print various classical and other works with much approbation and success for many years. He died in 1810. About the year 1798 the printing office was re- moved to a building in the rear of the Town House, and which had been originally erected for the pur- poses of a ribbon manufactory. In 1814 the office was removed to the present premises in Adelphi Court. The Journal, as I have already mentioned, was commenced in 1748 ; but it would appear that its proprietor, who had been in business as City and University printer for some years previously, had published in 1746 a broad-sheet, in some respects claiming the character of a newspaper, as it con- tained an account of the battle of Culloden, and other transactions of the day. Mr. Chalmers was a staunch loyalist, and had a commission in the Commissariat Department of the Royal Army. This employment, so incompatible with his profes- sional pursuits, compelled his temporary absence from Aberdeen, and probably interrupted the pub- 40 NEWSPAPERS. lication of a periodical, which he intended to be continuous. His account, however, of the battle of Culloden, coupled, it maybe presumed, with state- ments unfavourable to the cause of the Pretender, rendered him so offensive to the adherents of that unfortunate Prince, that a party of them, coming to Aberdeen, beleaguered the worthy Journalist in his own office, whence he was fortunate enough to secure his retreat by a back window, and thus escaped their vengeance ! We may here mention that the success which seems to have attended Mr. Chalmers' paper in- duced Mr. Francis Douglas and Mr. William Murray to establish a printing office in Aberdeen in 1752, and to publish, on the 3d of October of that year, a weekly newspaper called the Aberdeen Intelli- gencer, which ceased on the 22d of February 1757. About the year 1770 a weekly paper was estab- lished by Mr. John Boyle, and continued for a year or two. Other attempts of the same kind seem to have been made last century, but they all failed ; the truth being that the Journal was in pre-occupation of a field where there was then no scope for another newspaper. It was not until 1806 that the Aberdeen Chronicle was published by a worthy and venerable citizen, Mr. Booth. The increase of population, and various other circum- stances, have induced the publication of several local newspapers in this and adjoining counties ; NEWSPAPERS. 41 proofs of the advancing spirit of enterprise which distinguishes the present times. Among these, I cannot omit particular mention of the Aberdeen Observer, as having made much exertion to improve the art of reporting, and to stimulate the literary character of the local press. To the establishment of the other existing newspapers in this quarter, it is unnecessary particularly to advert^ The. first number of the Journal is a small folio of four pages, containing in all about 200 square inches of letterpress. The price was twopence each number. For advertisements the charge was 2s. 6d. for the first time, and 2s. for each time afterwards. It contains no introductory address other than the fashion of our times ; but at the end of the paper there is a Nota Bcne, requesting those who may be good enough to " encourage" the undertaking, to transmit their names and places of abode. Country subscribers were to receive the paper by the first post or carrier. The first number is almost entirely occupied with foreign news, without any reference to domestic politics or local occurrences. It con- tains one advertisement, which is as follows : " That on the 2Qth of March last [i.e. in 1747] were amissing three promissory notes of the Aberdeen's Company, one for .10, and two for 2os. each ; and of the Bank of Scotland, two for 2os. Whoever brings them to the publisher of this paper shall have two guineas reward, and no questions asked." 42 NEWSPAPERS. At what precise period this bank was established I have not ascertained. The partners seem to have been Provost Mowat, Messrs. Elphinston, Osborne, and Brebner ;'for, about the year '55 or '56, I find these parties advertising the winding up of the concern. At the conclusion of the first year of the Jour- nal, the proprietor seems to have been very well pleased with its success a feeling to which he gives expression in the following address to his " en- couragers :"- " My grateful thanks for all your favours past, Which, pray, continue, this year as the last, From every post, impartially I'll cull, Whatever is not trifling, false, or dull ; And tho' no more you must expect to hear Of Cities stormed, and Castles blown in air The fruits of peace, of concord, and of joy, And happier events shall the press employ." Taking a saunter through the columns of the earlier numbers, we discover the following among the most interesting of the notabilia. On the ist December 1748 we find an adver- tisement by Mr. David Dalrymple, Sheriff-depute of Aberdeen, and afterwards Lord Westhall, pro- hibiting the wearing of the Highland dress, under the penalty of imprisonment for six months. Never- theless, among the domestic occurrences are several, stating that so many parties had been brought from NEWSPAPERS. 43 this or that quarter and lodged in gaol for this offence. In another part of the volume we find the announcement of the first great and beneficial change which was introduced by the Senatus of Marischal College into the curriculum of study in that seminary. In connection with this institution, it is interest- ing to find the record of the first literary triumph of the Author of the " Minstrel" : " On Tuesday, April loth, 1750, the Premium given by Principal Blackwell towards the end of the session to the best scholar of his first class, was, after a severe trial, adjudged to James Beattic, from Laurencekirk.* The trial was an analysis of part of the 4th Book of the Odyssey, and the students were close locked up while they wrote it. There seems to have been at all times a Pocfs Corner in the Journal. In No. 58 is a piece on the death of the famous Lochiel, who, on the defeat of the Pretender, retired to France, accepted a com- mission in the French army, but soon died. The poet, after lauding his character, and mildly re- lating his politics, thus concludes : " Compelled by hard necessity to bear In Gallia's bands a mercenary spear ! Yet heaven, in pity to his honest heart, Resolved to snatch him from so poor a part. * Beattie must have been then only fourteen. 44 NEWSPAPERS. To cure, at once, his spirit and his mind, With exile wretched, and with error blind, The mighty mandate unto death was given, And good Lochiel is now a Whig in heaven." Dr. Johnson's Opinion. We find some intimation of the sort of education young ladies used to receive, in an advertisement from Miss Isobel Garioch, in which she announces her having opened a boarding school for young ladies, " where they are to be trained to all accom- plishments, including the first principles of genteel behaviour and good address, white and coloured seam, and washing and dressing after the best manner." Some of these accomplishments would be reckoned rather homely now-a-days, but they seem not in the least to have impaired the charms of the young ladies a century ago, repeated proof of v/hich is seen in the announcements of their marriages. Thus we find that such a one married "a young lady of great beauty, and possessed of all the amiable virtues that can render happy the nuptial state." Another gentleman is fortunate enough to make himself the husband of " a young lady of distinguished beauty, virtue, and merit." Even of old folks entering the married state most honourable mention is made. Thus, " a venerable couple were married at Old Deer ; the man was 76 and the woman 73, having only five teeth betwixt them both, yet they re-entered the con- nubial state with as much vigour and warmth as NEWSPAPERS. 45 the decline of life could possibly admit of." More- over, " a venerable, well-meaning couple in the parish of Bellie, warmed with a feeble ray of their declining sun, in spite of old age and its attend- ants, boldly ventured on lawful wedlock the man 96, and the woman 70, years of age. The same week the contagion spread to the neighbourhood, where a man and woman, each aged 89, followed the laudable and pious example." It would appear that the art of matrimonial advertising was not unknown in old times. In the twenty-eighth number of the Journal we find that " any well-behaved young woman, between thirty and fifty years of age, and having .100 at her own disposal, may hear of an affable and agreeable husband, aged thirty-three," provided she will only name where she is to be " spoken with." Well, a reply appears from Ketty Willing, Nairn, to the effect that said Ketty is a young unmarried woman, eighteen years of age, fit to be a wife, of good com- plexion, for a nurse, and not deformed in any part, and having also in her custody ,2000 pounds 41 Scots. But she demurs as to further negotiation until she shall obtain the male advertiser's real address, that she may send a friend to commune with him. In those days infanticide and child-exposure seem to have been very common, and no wonder, for the kirk-sessions bore not their sword in vain. 46 NEWSPAPERS. Thus, we find the kirk-session of Rathen hounding the whole country after a frail pair who had stolen away from the lash of their discipline. After particularly describing the parties and the circum- stances of their elopement, the kirk-session express a fervent hope " that wherever they are seen they will not be permitted to cohabit as man and wife!" Another advertisement of this sort seems to have been nearly the cause of the murder of the frail parties after whom it was launched. In the times to which we refer, the principles of religious toleration were not much understood, for we find that William Grant was arraigned before the Aberdeen Circuit Court in September 1750 " as being habit and repute a priest, Jesuit, or trafficing papist." He pled guilty, and was sen- tenced to banishment from Scotland, under pain of death in case of his return the soldier who appre- hended him having been allowed a reward of 500 merks according to Act of Parliament. But while our fellow-creatures were thus badly dealt with, the canine race seem to have been held in high consideration. Thus, we read that " a favourite dog belonging to a lady near Grosvenor Square was put into a coffin, and, being carried by her two chairmen on a horse, was interred behind Primrose Hill and Hampstead. The footmen walked before, and the dog-doctor, who had attended him all night, behind." NEWSPAPERS. 47 This leads us to notice another story about a dog which belonged to Mr. James Rait, tanner, brother of Professor Rait of King's College. Rait had a farm at Hilton, where he was much annoyed by a fox. He contrived to set the fox and his watch-dog Tygcr by the ears, about a leg of mutton, when Tygcr proved too many for the fox. It is particularly mentioned that this dog Tyger was nephew to the famous Tyger given by Mr. Rait (in testimony of his loyalty) to the Duke (of Cumberland) in a present, in the year 1747, and the son of Old Dublin, the Irish bitch who fought an Irish grenadier of Fleming's Regiment in 1747. But, to come to serious matters, we find that, in 1751, a proposal was in agitation, which we would specially recommend to the notice of our temperance societies. " We hear that a learned argument is preparing, and will shortly be exhibited, to show that the only effectual means of prevent- ing the pernicious use of distilled spirituous liquors will be to inflict a corporal punishment, instead of a fine, upon the retailers and vendors of them. Some are of the opinion that the most certain way to prevent the decrease of his Majesty's subjects, so much and so justly complained of, will be to hang, or transport for life, any one who shall be found guilty of serving his neighbour with a quarterin. Others think that perpetual imprison- 48 NEWSPAPERS. ment, and a public whipping once a quarter, may be sufficient punishment in this case." The political articles in the Journal, as in other provincial papers of the time, are all extracts from the London Evening Post, and some of them are great curiosities in their way perfect riddles, Avhich could not, as they were perhaps never meant to be solved. Here is a specimen in 1750 "Our correspondent at Paris assures us that something of very great importance is upon the carpet there, and that, notwithstanding the greatest secrecy is obsen/ed at Court, yet some of the members have intimated that it will not be long before a great event will happen, extremely acceptable to the nation but of what nature is entirely left to conjecture !" Strange notions seem to have prevailed on the subjects of political economy. We find a fierce argument against the transportation of corn to starving France, thus put forward. " Whether, as Providence has thought fit to afflict the French with so dreadful a scourge, the running counter to this benevolent dispensation with regard to Iliis island, may not turn that blessing into a curse upon ourselves ?" In 1752 we have the first report from the infirmary. It appears that for the year ending August '43, the number of patients admitted was 21 ; cured, 9 ; dismissed, 10 ; dead, 2. We sup- NEWSPAPERS. 49 pose there were not eight doctors. In '45 -'46 the house was filled with sick and wounded soldiers. So early as the beginning of 1749 we find a society of honest farmers in Aberdeen and Banff- shires, established for the purpose of taking into consideration the proper methods for improving difficult soils. The first Whale Fishing Company signed their contract of copartnery on 2/th June 1751, the subscribed capital being then nearly ,7000. Boy hurt by falling from the joggs in Castle Street (Pety Vault) Woman had her eye severely injured by the creels of a man riding on horseback William Wast accommodated with a neat suit of irons, etc. etc. THE PAPISTS. CHAPTER I. " O my soul, come not thou into their secret ; unto their assembly, mine honour, be not thou united." GEN. xlix. 6. WE intend to address a few words to those Pro- testants who are in the habit of frequenting the Papist chapel for the seemingly laudable purpose of hearing the errors of Unitarianism exposed. We cannot but regard the conduct of such individuals as inconsistent. Is it wise in them to run the risk of spiritual contamination of one kind, as a pre- ventive against spiritual contagion of another de- scription ? If they scout the doctrines of Unitarians as being contrary to their creed, why lend their countenance to the worship of the Papists, which is as much at variance with the principles of their faith ? Would they, to avoid the chance of being scorched by the flames of a conflagration, which they need not approach, rashly expose themselves, in a crazy boat, to the dangers of the wintry wave ? Would they, as an antidote against a poisoned cup, THE PAPISTS. 51 which they might at will pass from their lips, need- lessly court the deadly sting of the rattlesnake ? What monstrous absurdity ! what heaven-tempting folly ! What have they to do with Papists or Uni- tarians ? Have they not the Bible as an infallible rule of faith ? The Papists are anxious to make proselytes. They are industrious, artful, persever- ing, insatiable, and alas ! too often successful in this trade of spiritual kidnapping ! We deem it the more necessary to warn Protestants against the wiles of the Papists, since, in the harangues de- livered in St. Peter's on Sunday evening, due care is taken to sink the more startling dogmas of the Church of Rome. When a simple Protestant hears the divinity of the Son so earnestly advocated from a Papist pulpit, he is disposed to think that the doctrines of the Romish Church are perhaps, after all, not so very absurd as he has been accustomed to regard them. He begins to fancy that there is not so very wide a difference between the creeds of Protestant and Papist as he had been taught to be- lieve that there was. This is the first step towards the unsettlement of his faith. This is the great, the primary point, at which the Papists aim. They wish to impress on the minds of Protestants that the discrepancy between the Papist and Protestant creeds is but slight mere distinction without dif- ference. They thus endeavour to smooth the pas- sage from the one to the other. But Protestants 52 THE PAPISTS. will never know thoroughly what Papist doctrine is, until they are once fairly entrapped into an adoption of the Papist creed. When once within the mysterious inquisitional walls of the Confes- sional, then, and then only, will they know the wide gulf which separates the creed which they have adopted from that which they have renounced. If the Papists affect to honour the Son by main- taining his divinity against the Unitarians, they dis- honour him in many other ways. They may de- claim against Unitarianism as they will ; we think it far more consistent to deny the divinity of the Son altogether, than to support it on one hand, in form, but to belie it on the other, in effect. It is not our intention at present to enter into any lengthened discussion of the doctrines of the Papists. Let any Protestant of common sense only look into their Book of Vespers, or their " New Testament," and say, whether he does not there find the formal avowal of principles the most glaringly contrary to reason, and to the word of God. It is no very easy matter for Protestants to get hold of these books ; they are generally carefully smuggled out of sight, as if the owners of them were conscious of the con- traband nature of their contents. In these insti- tutes of superstition, these travesties of the genuine word, Protestants will find the broad declaration of doctrines which strike at the very roots of the Gospel. Those who wish to enter the lists of con- THE PAPISTS. 53 troversy with the Papists, ought to be well ac- quainted with their official and accredited manuals of doctrine and discipline. We were grieved at the sorry figure which some of our Protestant clergy and laymen made at their public discussions of the Roman Catholic creed. They showed an unfortu- nate ignorance of the doctrines of the Papists. On some points of their faith the Papists have a plaus- ible show of reason on their side, but it is all mere show when thoroughly examined. Let Protestants beware of thoughtlessly imputing to Papists doc- trines which these do not maintain. By disavow- ing, as they justly may, such doctrines, they obtain a triumph over their opponents, and thus derive borrowed credit for the really objectional dogmas of their creed. We deem it the more necessary thus boldly to state our opinions on this momentous subject, and to warn Protestants of their danger from the craftiness of Papists, because in the pre- sent day there are some who, under the affectation of charity, are offended, forsooth ! at what they are pleased to stigmatise as bigoted zeal ! We shall be told that these are not times for reviving the antiquated trivial controversies of divines about Popery and Protestantism ; that all creeds are becoming gradually assimilated ; that it is quite unseemly to be zealous about a mere difference of opinion. That there is nothing like a gentlemanly impartiality in such matters. The Papists, we are 54 THE PAPISTS. told, are very different persons from their fore- fathers. There are no such things no\v-a-days as crowds of racked, or burning, or bleeding martyrs for the Protestant faith ; many pious and holy men perishing in dungeons and deserts ; soldiers stimu- lated by priests to merit heaven by revelling in the torments of helpless women and innocent babes ; midnight spies and domestics wiled or tortured into informers ; the annihilation of the knowledge of the truth by severe punishments for reading the Bible ; swarms of lazy, bigoted, and vicious ecclesi- astics. CHAPTER II. IN our last chapter we exposed the folly and inconsistency of the conduct of those professing Protestants who frequent the Papist chapel on Sunday evenings. We are happy to find that our observations on this subject have given satisfaction to not a few Papists, of course, excepted. Confi- dent of the justness of our sentiments, we were convinced that they only required to be plainly stated in order to command ready acquiescence in their propriety. We were fully satisfied that no rational Protestant could, on mature consideration, deny the inconsistency, at least, of lending his countenance to the Papists, who hold doctrines so THE PAPISTS, 55 widely different from his own, and who cautiously avoid giving his religion the slightest shadow of support in return. How much at variance soever the opinions of different sects of professing Chris- tians on some points of doctrine and discipline, we think it well becomes them to be on terms of good fellowship one with another, and only to vie in promoting, each in the way of its own approval, the diffusion of religious knowledge. This, how- ever, the Papists will not do. Their system is quite exclusive. Their great aim is to promote, not the grand principles of Christianity, but the peculiar dogmas of the Church of Rome. Very eager are they to propagate their own creed, very willing are they to receive support from Pro- testants, but do they ever, in any single instance, make the slightest return of countenance to the Protestant faith ? Do they not, on the contrary, do everything for themselves, and everything, directly or indirectly, against the Protestants ? If they contributed occasionally their mite towards the support of Protestantism, then might they justly claim a mite in return, on the grounds of the interchange of good offices ; but since they will not on any account give, what business have they to get ? To Protestants we would say " If you will haunt St. Peter's Chapel in defiance of common sense and regard for the faith of your fathers, be not so silly as to allow the Papists to 56 THE PAPISTS. extort a single farthing from you. What you do give, give of your own good will, if you cannot make a better use of it. If the Papists will not treat you as they would themselves be treated should they enter a Protestant place of worship, let them have their seats to themselves ! Is there one Protestant place of worship in our city, at the gates of which the smallest coin is demanded before accommodation is afforded to the stranger? Sorry should we be to see the humblest Protestant church or chapel thus degraded into a level with the theatre, or an exhibition of wild beasts ! Will Papists say that they do not insist on something for the plate ? Try them. Is the knowledge of the Protestant faith so very widely different that there is no necessity for endeavouring to extend it farther ? Does it abound in the uttermost parts of the earth in the distant isles of the Gentiles ? Is there no room for spreading it in our own island in our own native land in our own city ? Alas ! alas ! those who visit the abodes of igno- rance and its inseparable concomitant, vice, can tell but too truly how much there is yet to be done, even in our own city, to extend the benefits of our faith to many within its bounds. Is it then right to give the children's "bread" to "dogs," while many of them are starving for want of the very " crumbs ?" We intend to make a few simple remarks on THE PAPISTS. 57 some of the peculiar doctrines of the Church of Rome. We shall take for our guides the Word of God and common sense, avoiding all scholastic quibbling as unprofitable in itself, and unsuitable to our purpose. We write for plain people, who take the Bible into their hands in simplicity of heart, and not to gratify the cravings of a contro- versial spirit. In making our observations on Papist doctrine, we shall quote their own accredited and official manuals of faith and discipline. In The Ordinary of the Mass, laid down in their Book of Vespers, is the following Oblation of the Host : " Accept, O holy Father, almighty and eternal God, this unspotted Host, which I thy unworthy servant (the priest) offer unto thee, my living and true God, for my innumerable sins, offences, and negligences, and for all present ; as also for all faithful Christians (Papists of course), both living and dead (!) ; that it may avail both me and them unto life everlasting." Next comes the Oblation of the Chalice : " We offer unto thee, O Lord, the chalice of salvation, beseeching thy clemency, that it may ascend before thy divine Majesty, as a sweet odour, for oiir salvation (!), and for that of the whole world." Now, even admitting, for the time, the absurd doctrine of Transubstantiation, to what purpose 58 THE PAPISTS. did Christ suffer on Mount Calvary, if this constant repetition of sacrifice is to be made ? Did he not offer himself up, a willing sacrifice, once for all ? If this Papist sacrifice is necessary, then v/as the sacrifice of Christ ineffectual. Is not this striking at the very roots of the gospel ? A little farther on we find " May the Lord, by the intercession of blessed Michael the archangel, standing at the right hand of the Altar of Incense, and of all the elect, (Michael and the elect, all Papists of course !) vouch- safe to bless this incense, and receive it as an odour of sweetness." Here Christ is set aside by Michael in the office of intercessor with the Father. This is but consistent. If his office as Mediator is infringed, it is but consistent to rob him of the glory due unto him as our Intercessor. A little farther on we find " Receive, O holy Trinity, this oblation which we make to thee, in memory of the Passion, Resurrection, and Ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ, and in honour of the blessed Mary, ever a virgin, of blessed John Baptist, the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and of all the Saints, that it may be available to their honour and our salvation" THE PAPISTS. 59 CHAPTER III. IN our last chapter we attempted to prove, from the Book of Vespers, one of the accredited manuals of Papist doctrine and discipline, that that creed is at variance with the distinguishing feature of Christianity the Atonement of Christ. This we conceive to be a mode of controversy to which no Papist can reasonably object. We take up their doctrines just as we find them laid down in their books, which have the seal of their own authority. If these doctrines are absurd, then are we not to blame for exposing them ? Their absurdity is not merely constructive ; it is inseparable from the doc- trines, and requires only to be barely enunciated, without any laboured comment of ours, to expose it in its true colours. The Papists cannot thus find a temporary refuge in the bold disavowal of doctrines which are falsely imputed to them. We ascribe to them no other creed than that which they themselves believe, and would palm on un- wary Protestants. We have heard it affirmed that the creed of Papists is of a very plastic and accom- modating nature that their catechisms are suited to time and place that doctrines which are main- tained in Spain are found unsuitable to the meri- dian of Britain and that certain points of faith 60 THE PAPISTS. pass current in Ireland which would be rather too much for the credence of our " north countrie." Be this as it may, the Book of Vespers, now before us, we make our text at present, and from it we think it will be no difficult matter to condemn the Papists. The doctrine of the Atonement is the chief corner-stone of Christianity. Any system of belief which contains doctrines incompatible with this is not Christianity, although it may falsely assume that name. We think that a great deal of un- necessary trouble may be often spared by call- ing things by their proper names. What can be more absurd than to concede the title of Chris- tians to those who refuse the distinctive marks of the true disciples of Christ ? These pseudo-Chris- tians thus derive a degree of credit and advantage to which they have no shadow of claim. Now-a- days, a man who professes himself a disbeliever in Christianity is not by any means regarded as a very respectable character. The consequence is, that many profess to believe, more to obtain the praise of men than the praise of God. Under the name of Christianity, too, various sects of religion- ists obtain a more ready reception for their dogmas, how much soever at variance with the Gospel scheme. But to return to the Vespers. At page 23 we find the following prayer to the Virgin : " O Holy Mary, succour the miserable, assist THE PAPISTS. 6 1 the dejected, comfort those that mourn ; pray for the people, intercede for the clergy, plead for the devout female sex. Let all be sensible of thy aid who celebrate thy holy memory." Now, where is it said in Scripture that the Virgin Mary has power to answer the prayer thus offered up to her ? Where are we required to cele- brate her memory ? Where is she set forth as a proper object of adoration ? A little farther on, at page 24, we find " Grant, we beseech thee, O Lord God, that we, thy servants, may enjoy constant health of mind and body, and, by the glorious intercession of the ever blessed Virgin Mary, be delivered from present sorrow, and possess eternal joy? Now, in what stronger terms could one plead with Christ ? Here our eternal happiness is repre- sented as depending on the Virgin Mary. If this is not setting aside Christ in his mediatorial office, what is it ? The absurdity of this must be mani- fest to any person of common sense. At page 25 we find " Grant, we beseech thee, that we may experi- ence her intercession for us by whom we deserved to receive the author of life, our Lord Jesus Christ." Here Christ is called the author of life, but this life we derive not from him of his own free grace : no ! the merits of the Virgin must entitle us to this ! In the whole compass of sacred writ, nay, in 62 THE PAPISTS. the Papist Bible itself, is there one word about the mediatorial merits of the Virgin Mary ? At page 29, we find "I confess to Almighty God, to blessed Mary, ever a Virgin, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John Baptist, to the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, to all the saints, and you Father (the priest), that I have grievously sinned, therefore I beseech the blessed Mary, ever a Virgin (and the rest before-mentioned), to pray to the Lord our God for me." Who constituted the Virgin Mary, and the rest, our confessors ? For what purpose is confession of sin made ? To whom ought it to be made but to Him who has power to forgive ? Can Michael forgive our sins ? At page 39, we have a hymn in praise of the Virgin " Hail, Mary ! Queen of heavenly spheres, Hail, whom the angelic host reveres ! Hail, fruitful root ! Hail, sacred gate ! Whence the world's light derives its date ! " etc. etc. "Vouchsafe, O sacred Virgin, to accept my praises, give me strength against mine enemies." At page 41 we find " Grant, we beseech thee, that through the Virgin Mary, Christ's mother, we may receive the joys of eternal life'' 1 At page no we have another hymn to the Virgin, which says THE PAPISTS. 63 " The sinner's bonds unbind, Our evils drive away." So much for the office of the Virgin Mary. Here we find her regarded as an object of adora- tion, prayed to as our intercessor with God, and as being able to confer on us those blessings which Christ died to purchase for us. No one who is ac- quainted with the Word of God can have the effrontery to maintain that such doctrines have any foundation there. They are the cunning inventions of man to answer the basest of purposes to arro- gate a tyrannical sway over the conscience to support the cause of spiritual ignorance to aggran- dise an artful priesthood, and to prop an ambitious hierarchy. Well may the priests refuse to their flocks the rights of exercising their judgment in perusing their books of devotion ? The man who can believe such monstrous contradictions must first completely surrender his right of exercising the measure of common sense with which God has gifted him. Darkness is the proper element of the true sons of the Romish Church ; and if the light that is in them be darkness, how great is that darkness ! In making our observations on this subject, we have no personal quarrel with Papists. In the various relations of life, we take them just as we take Protestants as we find them. Their creed is a fair subject of free discussion. 64 THE PAPISTS. CONCLUSION. WE intend now to close our remarks on some points of the creed of the Romish Church. The peculiar dogmas of this Church have given rise to numberless controversies, of which not a few have been conducted, on both sides, in a spirit but too much at variance with that divine message which proclaims " peace on earth, and good will to the children of men." While the supporters of the Protestant faith have sometimes denounced the Romish creed, in toto, as containing nothing what- ever which had the slightest claim on the adoption of rational beings ; on the other hand, the advo- cates of Catholicism have not been slack to retort on their opponents charges of a similar nature, with at least an equal intensity of acrimonious feeling. In the present imperfect state of human nature, such consequences are more or less unavoidable in all disputes ; but in controversies concerning subjects which, like religion, so deeply affect the present and future state of the contending parties, rousing every latent passion of the soul, and engaging the most stubborn prepossessions of moral and religious education, the spirit of overbearing zeal for a par- ticular system of belief, operates with peculiar force. It were well if controversialists on ^//subjects THE PAPISTS. 65 would bear in mind that every speculative error which boasts a multitude of advocates, has its golden as well as dark side ; that there is always some truth connected with it, the exclusive atten- tion to which has given it charms for the heart. In the remarks which we have ventured to offer on some points of Romish doctrine, we have endea- voured to avoid as much as possible any personal reference to those by whom such doctrines are held. We have been careful not to impute to Catholics other doctrines than such as we conceive to be con- tained in their own books. To enter into any ela- borate discussion of these doctrines was quite foreign to our present purpose. We are far from indulging the vain hope of gaining over Catholics to the Protestant faith, but we do not despair of our success in warning unwary Protestants against being entrapped into a hasty adoption of the Romish creed. This is our principal object. The Catholics in this place have of late manifested an eager spirit of proselytising, and their efforts to make converts have been, in too many instances, crowned with success. This has been greatly owing to the interest excited by the musical part of the Catholic worship, and by the popular talents of one of the priests. If those Protestants who are so fond of frequenting St. Peter's are really dissatisfied with their own creed, we hope that, for their own sakes, this dissatisfaction is the result of a patient and F 66 THE PAPISTS. candid examination of the doctrines of the Protes- tant faith. We hope that before they shall inquire into the soundness of the Romish creed they shall have good reason for condemning that in which they have been brought up. But, if they are satis- fied with their own faith, let them stand fast by it, and, in this particular, at any rate, learn a lesson from the votaries of the Catholic Church. We proceed to make one or two extracts from the Romish " Vespers," as its title page bears. At page 215 we find the following : " O Cross ! brighter than all the stars, renowned throughout the world ; more holy and lovely to men than all things ; who alone wast worthy to bear the price of the world ! Sweet wood ! sweet nails, that bore so sweet a burthen ! Save us here assembled to celebrate thy praises, Allel" Now, let any person of common sense say what the above means, if words have any meaning at all. Is it not a prayer addressed to the wood of the cross which bore the Saviour, in terms as plain as can be devised ? Could any stronger petition be offered up, mutatis mutandis, to the Saviour him- self ? Is not this very like the worshipping of stocks ? What virtue can there be in a piece of wood ? Do Papists say " It was the instrument of crucifying Jesus for the sins of the world ?" Why, on a similar principle, we might adore Judas Iscariot, and with much better reason, for he was an THE PAPISTS. 67 active agent in the death of Christ, whereas the cross was a mere passive instrument. We are for- bidden to do evil that good may come, and is it likely that we should be required to pay homage to an evil agent which may have produced contin- gent good ? At page 226 we find " O God, who didst translate blessed Dunstan, thy Bishop, to heavenly kingdoms) grant by his glorious merits, that we may pass from hence to endless joys. Thro'," etc. What assurance is there that this same Dunstan is in heaven ? How can his presence there be ascertained, except by revelation ? Admitting him to be there, what authority have we for praying to him in particular ? Is such authority to be found in Scripture ? Here again we are to be saved partly by his glorious merits. Who was this Dun- stan ? We hope he was not the wretch of the same name who figures in the early period of English history. The mercy of God is doubtless unbounded, and is displayed in the salvation of the chief of sinners, but wd should as soon think, humanly speaking, of canonising the great enemy of man- kind himself as the infamous Dunstan. At page 299 we find " O God ! who hast crowned blessed King Edward, thy Confessor, grant, we beseech thee, that we may so honour him on earth as to reign with him hereafter in heaven." 68 THE PAPISTS. Here there is no Thro', etc. brought in as a saving clause at the end. We leave this, and, in- deed all our extracts, with the common sense of Protestant readers. They may compare our ex- tracts with the original whenever they please. We are not conscious of our having wilfully misquoted from the "Vespers;" indeed, had we been so dis- posed, we trust we had prudence enough to refrain from a species of fraud which could be so easily detected. We have no wish unnecessarily to wound the feelings, or to offer violence to the pre- judices of Catholics, and we are convinced that such of them as are disposed to think for themselves must at once admit that "a disputable point is no man's ground." One principal object of our remarks has been, as we said before, to warn Protestants against what we conceive to be the errors of Papists. They ought not to throw themselves in the way of hear- ing Catholic doctrine until they have good reason for rejecting their own. But we are confident that those Protestants who are able to give a reason of the hope that is in them, are in no danger from Catholic contagion. To suppose that our opposi- tion to Papists proceeds from any dread that in this country they should gain an ascendency, is the height of folly. Theirs is, and long has been, a falling cause. Need we prove this ? Think what the creed of this country was three centuries ago, compared with the prevailing faith of the present THE PAPISTS. 69 times. The palmy days of the Romish Church have passed away like a dream of the night. Its spirit is truly congenial only with an unenlightened age. Where are now the days when the Popes not only usurped the authority of supreme arbiters in disputes about religion or church discipline, but as- sumed the character of lords of the universe, arbiters of the fate of kingdoms and empires, and supreme rulers of the kings and princes of the earth ? Where are now the authority, the opulence, and splendour of the Papal See ? Need we wonder at its reverse of fortune ? Its kingdom was of this world, and it has therefore shared the vicissitudes of every power which is not founded on the " rock of ages !" BE HEAVEN MY STAY. IN all the changes, here below, Of transient weal of common woe, It may be given me to know ; Be Heaven my stay ! When my poor heart would fail for fear, Without the hand of pity near, Gently to wipe the unseen tear ; Be Heaven my stay ! When I must bear the worldling's scorn, Derided for my lot forlorn, E'en of itself, but hardly borne ; Be heaven my stay ! When many friends, whom once I knew, Have waxed, in number, very few, And doubts arise if these be true ; Be Heaven my stay ! When one with whom I'd link my fate Forsakes like silly bird its mate And leaves my heart all desolate ; Be Heaven my stay ! BE HE A YEN MY STA Y. When days of health and youth are flown, My path with faded roses strewn ; The thorns are all I find my own ; Be Heaven my stay ! When full of tossings on my bed, I cannot cannot rest my head, Scared with dim visions of the dead ! Be Heaven my stay ! When sorely chastened for my sins, And pleasure ends, while grief begins, And suffering no guerdon wins ; Be Heaven my stay ! When all in vain, I strive to brave The gloom of Jordan's swelling wave, And hand of mortal cannot save ! Be Heaven my stay ! When faith itself begins to fail, When prayer seems of no avail, And when, for praise, I find but wail ; Be Heaven my stay ! 7 1 FASCICULUS FACETIARUM ABREDONENSIUM. " A word in season how good is it?" SOLOMON. A TALE OF THE BROADGATE. A member of that proverbially loquacious craft, who are particu- larly hostile to the distinguishing mark of the dis- ciples of Joanna Southcote, which they denounce as a barbarism, was one night " working with sinu- osities" along the Broadgate, with several bottles in his pate, making sundry hair-breadth escapes of a broken nose, ever and anon coining soap-suds, encountering a brush with a Charley, a dry-shave from a quizzical crony, a cut from every strapping wench he chanced to meet, when he was thus ac- costed by a douce woman of his acquaintance : " Ah ! George, George, ye're i' the Braidgate." Un- willing to be thus bearded, George, with a con- temptuous curl of the lip, replied, " I ken that ; but for as braid as it is, I need it a' !" A FRIEND IN NEED. Our townsman, Captain FASCICULUS FACETIARUM, ETC. 73 Cushnie, whose simple characteristic monument in the West Church records his charitable bequeath- ment of a fortune found in the lottery, with the heart, possessed also the humour, of a genuine son of Neptune. After the accidental acquisition of his prize-money he cast anchor on his native shore, where he spent his time and fortune in relieving the necessities of the poor. He was a great walker, and would naturally often steer his course towards the sea-beach. During one of his visits thither, while he was viewing a fleet of fishing-boats in the offing, suddenly the sky became overcast, the wind blew with fitful and increasing violence, until the sea into a storm it roused. The bents were soon covered with the relatives of the fishermen, who were in great jeopardy. Amid the roar of the waves, and the howling of the wind, nought was heard save loud lament, and the most extravagant expressions of despair. One luckie, on whose lungs frequent practice in crying " caller haddocks" had conferred stentorian strength, was particularly ex- clamatory, and seemed determined to arrogate a monopoly of woe. Amongst other ravings which she bellowed, she exclaimed, "O gin I had but a knife, I wad cut my ain throat !" Whereupon the captain, who was standing alongside of her, think- ing it a hard case that the honest woman should be prevented, for lack of the needful, from carrying into immediate execution so rational a resolve, 74 took from his pocket a large joctelcg, which he pre- sented, unclasped, to the forlorn matron. But, in- stead of availing herself of the preferred aid, she ungratefully exclaimed, " Ah ! you villain ! wad ye gie a knife to a mad woman ?" THE REV. MR. ABERCROMBIE AND THE REV. MR. FULLERTON, MINISTERS OF ABERDEEN. The former of these gentlemen possessed great natural shrewdness, was an orthodox and popular preacher, a stern disciplinarian, *' given to hospitality," but a somewhat overbearing disputant in the church courts, and, for reasons best known to himself, bit- terly and personally hostile to Mr. F., whose charac- ter in some points as much excelled, as in others it differed from his own. Mr. F. was a pious, a learned, and a most modest man. On some question which was being discussed in the Presbytery, Mr. F. made a motion, which Mr. A., according to use and wont, opposed with tooth and nail, although it was evident to all except himself, that his opposition militated against his own interest After Mr. F. had endured with patience and imperturbable good humour, a torrent of scurrilous invective from Mr. A., he said, " Well, Mr. A., have it your own way ; but will you hear a story ?" Mr. A. gruffly assented. " A man and his wife," said Mr. F., "who led a cat-and- doggish sort of life (his better half, like you, Mr. A., wishing to have everything her own way, whether ABREDONENS1UM. 75 right or wrong), were once walking together by the side of a river. The wife, slipping a foot, fell into the stream ; but, in her fall, caught hold of a bush, by which she contrived to keep her head above water until her husband, to whom she bawled for help, should come to her assistance. Her husband, however, took from his pocket a knife, with which he cut her forlorn hope, while he coolly said, " Many a thing have I allowed to go with you, and I shall let this go too." A PAT REMONSTRANCE. Our townsmen, not- withstanding their proverbial acuteness, and keen sense of the ridiculous, sometimes betray a disposi- tion to emulate the sons of the Emerald Isle, in that species of colloquial " dulcia vitia" commonly called bulls. The late Bailie Farquharson once afforded a notable instance of this. He was a cap- tain in the volunteer corps during the war; and finding that his company did not on some occasion dress so well as he could wish, he remonstrated in these terms : " O fie ! gentlemen ; ye're crooked like an ousen bow. Only come out and look at yoursel's !" THE WEAKEJI VESSEL. The many excellent qualities of the late venerable Dr. C will long preserve his memory in the parish of Nigg, where he officiated for some threescore years or so. By 76 FASCICULUS FACETIARUM all his parishioners he was justly regarded as a father, and was constantly referred to as umpire in all their differences. An honest fisherman in the Cove happened to be cursed with a termagant of a wife. His frequent disputations with this Xantippe were not always conducted according to the Socratic method. At length, after finding that his wife and he could not by any means row in the same boat ; that he could not manage her either by hook or by crook ; that they were daily and hourly making a sad kettle of fish of it ; after in vain attempting to manage her on the " claw me, claw thee" plan, he resolved to lay all oars in the water, and tell the Doctor how he was baited. He de- scribed his wife as being a perfect pictarnty ; that he was quite upset by her jaw ; that her conduct cost him " mony a saut-tear ;" that, for all his dauting of her, he could not steer her by any means. The Doctor, after remarking that he believed his tale, although it was somewhat confused, recom- mended patience and forbearance, observing, that his wife was the weaker vessel. " Weel, stir," re- plied the man, " gin she be the weaker vesshel, she sud carry the laigher sail." AN ATTENTIVE HEARER. A member of a cer- tain seceder kirk (not very far from St. Nicholas Street], on one occasion took along with him to a prayer meeting one of his sons, a boy about nine ABREDONENSIUM. 77 years of age. The boy appeared very attentive to a very long prayer which one of the lay members was making a circumstance which was remarked with no small satisfaction by the father, who, on arriving at home, asked his son whether he could give some notes of the prayer. " Weel, father," re- plied the observant younker, " d'ye ken, yon man said Ok ! jist seventy-three times in his prayer, for I keepit an exact coont o' them !" A PROBATIONER of the kirk, who died here not many years ago, was once preaching in the church of Banff. In prayer he used the following expres- sion : " Bless thy servants in the magistracy sncJi as they are!" N.B. The magistrates were sitting in the front of the gallery right opposite to the pulpit. THE late Mr. L th of the Grammar School was once questioned about the progress of one of his pupils, who was by no means a bright genius. Mr. L. replied, " O ! he'll improve as he mends /" A DOUBLE-ENTENDRE. Let not this equivocal Gallicism startle our fair readers. The story we are about to tell contains nothing but what they may safely peruse. The late Colonel T r, al- though an Aberdonian, was by no means very far north. During a residence on the Continent he re- ceived, while in Brussels, a card of invitation to a ball. In the corner of the card were written the 78 FASCICULUS FACETIARUM letters R. S. V. P. (Reponse s" il vous plait, An answer, if you please.) The meaning of these letters was to the Colonel a perfect mystery. He did not like to ask any one ; vanity forbade such an exposure of his ignorance of the formulary of bon ton. On his return to Aberdeen, being at a dinner party given by the late Mr. Y of C , he mentioned the circumstance, affecting to know the meaning of the letters, and propounding them, with towering confidence, as a riddle which he defied any one in the company to solve. The host well knew the meaning of the letters, but, pretending ignorance and wonder, determined to amuse himself at the Colonel's expense. After affecting to ponder the meaning of the letters with intense and anxious in- terest, he suddenly exclaimed, with counterfeited glee, "I have it: I have it!" "Well," said the Colonel, " I shall call you clever fellow if you have." " The letters," said Mr. Y., " are evidently the initials of the words, ' Rien sans votre presence' "without your company there will be no ball." " Egad," wheezed the Colonel, delighted with an interpretation which his vanity and ignorance united in pronouncing the true one, " the very thing. Well, now, I thought I had puzzled you ; but I see I was mistaken for once in my life." DR. JOHN CHALMERS, formerly Principal of King's College (an office which he held during an ABREDONENSIUM. 79 ordinary life-time), had a country-house at Sclattie, to which he used to retire during the summer months. On one of his journeys thither, he fell from his horse and received a severe contusion on the shoulder. The report of the accident soon spread, and it was confidently asserted in Aberdeen that the Principal was lying at the point of death. Two of the professors, each an aspirant to the ex- pected vacancy, set out, post haste, to inquire after their friend's health, and arrived simultaneously at Sclattie. They were ushered into the silent and darkened bed-chamber of the wounded man, and on stealthy tiptoe, with countenances arranged into suitable demureness, took their stations on opposite sides of what they believed (hoped ?) was his death- bed. A solemn silence of some minutes was at length abruptly broken by the Principal thrusting out his cap-enveloped head, and putting the dumb- founding question, " Well, gentlemen, which of you is to be Principal ?" The Professors looked first at the Doctor and then at each other, and, after a hearty laugh, in which the Principal's voice was " ready chorus," sincerely congratulated him on his state, which was by no means so dangerous as they had been induced to suppose it. The Principal lived a good many years after the accident A LEFT-HANDED COMPLIMENT. The Rev. Mr. Thomas D was employed for some time as 8o FASCICULUS FACETIARUM assistant to the Rev. Mr. Forbes. Mr. D. was not a very popular preacher, but nevertheless he steered on, independent of the aura popularis, " neither dreading the censure nor courting the applause of of his hearers," as the late Rev. Mr. D g used to say. He would even tell, with a good deal of humour, some stories about himself, which most people, under similar circumstances, would have prudently kept for private rumination. One of these was the following : One Sunday, after divine service, as Mr. D. was returning homewards, he was accosted by an old woman, who said, " Oh, Sir, weel div I like whan ye preach." " Ou yea, my wifie," replied the astonished preacher ; " I wat ye're nae like mony ane. Fat for do you like whan I preach?" " Ou, sir," quoth the wifie, "whan ye preach I get a guid seat !" The same gentleman was distantly related to the Earl of A . Being on a visit at H House, soon after obtaining a situa- tion as a teacher in an institution in Aberdeen, he mentioned the circumstance to Lord A., and at the same time hinted that he hoped his lordship might perhaps be able to get him a kirk. His lordship observed, that he " should be satisfied in the mean- time ; and that his present situation, although humble, was yet bread." " True," rejoined Mr. D., " but it is written, man cannot live by bread alone." " Well," said his Lordship, humouring the joke, " we must see to get you some kitchen for it." ABREDONENSIUM. 8 1 A NEW SETT. Our political readers will be disappointed if they imagine that we mean to give them a story about a New Sett of the Burgh ; that is so old a story that we are quite set with it, and shall therefore allow them to settle it as they please. Nor is our story about a sett of milk, although it is necessary that our readers should know the mean- ing of the word sett as thus applied, in order to understand the fun of it. Lest, in these " march of intellect days," there should be any so learnedly ignorant as not to know what is meant by so fami- liar a " household word" as " sett-o'-milk ;" for the information of such milksops in philology, such literary sucklings, we beg leave to premise, that a sett of milk means a regular daily allowance of that beverage which is paid for weekly. Now for our story : One of the masters of a certain " semi- nary op learning" (those who were there when we were will appreciate our variorum reading of op for of], belonged to that class whom Horace had in his eye in the lines " Est qui nee veteris pocula Massici, Nee partem solido demere de die, Spernit." His progress to his daily task was uniformly re- tarded by a certain shop, where he used to get his " morning." On one occasion he came in as usual, while there was a customer in the shop, and " taking off his dram," went out without saying a word G 82 The customer observing this, remarked that the dominie had gone away without paying. "Oh!" replied the shopman, " he has a sett." THE learned Blackwell, formerly Principal of Marischal College, was remarkably stingy. While the workmen were employed in building his house at Puhmtir, where it is still to be seen, he sometimes gave them a gaudeamus of particularly small small- beer, which was commonly carried in a water-bucket. On these festive occasions he used to honour the masons with his company, and drink to their health, always remarking " Ah ! my lads ! this will put marrow in your bones /" On one occasion a mason, of particularly dry turn, observed, " Aye, aye, water- buckets bear nac ale /" JEAN CARR. The late Rev. Mr. R, minister of F vie, used to tell a story about one of Jean Carr's queer pranks, which well nigh upset his gravity while he was preaching one Sunday in the Kirk of Tarves. In a back pew in the gallery, right oppo- site to the pulpit, sat a young clodhopper who went by the name of the buck of the parish. He wore his hair tied in a long queue, and the dust of the meal-pock had not been spared on his nob. In tripped Jean, during sermon, frisking about here and there, until she halted immediately behind the youth. Suddenly seizing him by the tye, she twisted ABREDONENSIUM. 83 round his phiz, and fairly kissed him ! The time, the place, the parties, not to mention Jean's moutJi, which was none of the most tempting, were almost too much for the composure of Mr. F., who was at all times a grave man. Mr. W , formerly minister of Echt, was often obliged to employ assistants during the latter years of his life. One of these was rather vain of his qualifications as a preacher, but affected to be quite embarrassed by any compliments, which he received on that score. Mr. W , after the sermon, went up to the probationer, and was going to shake hands with him. The young man antici- pating nothing short of some high-flown compli- ment, exclaimed, " My good sir, no compliments no compliments !" " Na, na," replied the parson, " now-a-days I'm glad o' ony body !" THE Rev. Mr. Forbes, formerly one of the ministers of Aberdeen, was equally celebrated for the purity of his doctrine, the integrity of his life, and a Nathaniel-like simplicity of character, which endeared him to all who knew him. He was one of those few who let not their left hand know what their right doeth. His better half was a not- able woman in her way " To thrift and parsimony much inclined," and considered that her spouse " dealt with too 84 FASCICULUS FACETIARUM slack a hand," in his almsgiving ; in short, she had a "saving knowledge." Mr. F. was a studious and rather absent man. One day, his lady having occasion to go abroad, locked the minister in ; during her absence a beggar came to the door ; Mr. F. finding it locked, took up a large loaf and handed it out at the window to the grateful mendi- cant. Mrs. F. on her return made a sad fuss about the loaf, marvelling greatly at its disappearance, and charged the minister with having made away with it. Mr. F. mildly observed, " My dear, what is kept in at the door, sometimes goes out at the window." TlMMER TO TlMMER. A reverend gentleman in the presbytery of A , who has the misfortune to require crutches, assisting at the ordination of one whom he not unjustly regarded as a lame brother, when the " laying on of hands " was being performed, instead of coming forward from his seat, which was rather distant from the noviciate, and laying on his hand, deputed his staff to perform that important office. One of his brethren remon- strating with him on such an indecorous departure from the usual ceremonial, he coolly observed, " There is naething like timmer to timmer." A DEAD HIT. A gentleman who holds a re- sponsible situation in a banking establishment in ABREDONENSIUM. 85 our "guid town," was travelling in one of our northern stages along with a respectable house- builder of " that ilk." The builder, although a plain man, and not disposed to say a great deal, nevertheless attempted a shaving of the banker, and, looking as mysteriously piercing as an augur, observed that such and such a banker in the North was dead, with a screwing of the mouth, which plainly said, " I suppose you are looking after his place." The banker was not so green as the man of jeests ; according to current account, he replied " Well, sir, I hope you have got his coffin to make." THE late Rev. Mr. G d-n, formerly minister of Banff, used to let part of his glebe in grass to some persons who kept cows in the neighbourhood. One honest 'oman happened to march (not in the intellect way) with a field of grass which the worthy divine kept in his own hands, to his no small annoy- ance, as the said honest 'oman appeared to have rather indistinct notions of the relations of meum and tuum, often allowing her cows to sorn on his grass. The minister frequently remonstrated, when obedience was readily promised by the guidwife, but performed only while he was in sight. Finding the cows, one day, as usual, at free quarters in his grass, he says to the 'oman, " You must keep your cows off my grass." " Ou aye, sir," was the reply, followed up by instant obedience. Coming soon 86 FASCICULUS FACETIARUM, ETC. after, he found the cows as they were, whereupon the minister says, " If you don't keep your cows off my grass, /'// prosecute you" Next time, finding even this threat in vain, he says, "I'll give you five shillings, if you'll keep your cows off my grass." " Troth, sir," replied the honest 'oman, " I wadna de't for twenty ! " AN ACCOMMODATING SERVANT. A boy who had been some time in the employment of W r and Y , was informed by their clerk that he could be no longer retained in their employment, as there was no work for him. " O !" said the loun, " lat's only stay, an' we sanna cast oot about the wark /" "SINE DIE." A certain Dr. S - O , very popular with the old ladies as a preacher, was before his fathers and brethren 'of the Presbytery, on a charge of being in a certain house, on a cer- tain morning, and there conducting himself in a manner unbecoming the character of a clergyman and a gentleman. Around the kirk door an eager crowd of gossips waited to learn their favourite's fate. "What have they done?" " Oh," said the first bringer of the unwelcome news, " heard ye ever the like o't, they've suspen'it him till they see in he dee /" SONNETS. THE PLANET VENUS. Bright star ! thy name is Beauty, justly thine, Daughter of Morning and of Evening, thou Dost wear a lasting radiance on thy brow, And, 'mong thy sisters that around thee shine In softest glory, thou art queen divine ! Beautiful ! canst thou tell me whence we trace That more than earthly brightness on thy face 1 Art thou that distant speck which thou dost seem, A thing of light to deck our evening sky, Thou, with the myriads of thy shining train, That wing, with N;hee, their course in harmony ? Or art thou what our hoary sages deem, A world, perchance inhabited by men Even like ourselves, who now would scan thee but in vain ? MOONLIGHT. Oh ! how delightful 'tis to gaze on thee, Transcendent empress of the starry night, Thou mildest, softest, loveliest, heavenly light, Shining and sailing in chaste majesty ! SONNETS. See how the little clouds, all fringed with white, Drunk with thy beauty, come to kiss thy beam, And melt away like rain-drops in the stream, And all the thousands of the starry throng Twinkling like diamonds in the sun's bright ray, Around thee move in loveliness along, Till lost to the admirer's dazzled gaze. Creation's God ! how wondrous are thy ways ! Thy greatness framed this glorious canopy, Thy goodness spread it out for creatures such as we ! OUR CAT JEDRAL B 1 OF the Cathedral of Saint Machar the history is rather obscure. If we may trust authority more or less worthy of credit, it occupies the site of a primitive place of worship established by a missionary sent forth by Columba, with instructions to plant his preaching station fast by a river which pursued its course towards the neighbouring sea in windings like the crook of a bishop's staff. The holy man trudged along the coast until he came to the place where rose the future Cathedral, and there he took his station. As this must have occurred some thirteen centuries ago, it might be an inquiry for the geolo- gist whether the Don at that time pursued its present course, or ran right in front of Seaton House, then crossing into the hollow north of the brickwork, and turning down the links into the estuary common to it with the river Dee, opposite 9 o OUR CATHEDRAL. to the Broad Hill ? Be this as it may, however, in process of time some five hundred years afterwards mention is made of an episcopate having been founded at Mortlach, where are said to have ruled three bishops, whose names prove them to have been of native origin, Beyn, Cormack, and Nectan, the last of whom is said to have been translated along with his See to Aberdeen, where he ruled for several years. These particulars rest rather on tradition (somewhat hazy, although not perhaps entirely constructive), than on documents which antiquarians have considered unexceptionably gen- uine. The earliest document of satisfactory cha- racter dates 1157, when Edward was certainly Bishop, whoever his predecessors may have been. Beyn is said to have been Bishop from 1010 to 1047. What we must accept as the history of the Cathedral tells us, that the first which was built on the present site was reared by Bishop Mathew Kininmonth, 1163-1197, and was, as we may well believe, a very humble building. We are told, that " Alexander Kininmonth, second of that name, who became Bishop in 1357, caused demolish said old church, esteeming it not beautiful enough for a Cathedral, and laid the foundation of another more magnificent [the present], but died before the work was raised six cubits high, in the year 1381." Another account says that " he finished only the OUR CATHEDRAL. 91 bell-tower." Was this the great central tower which held all the bells gifted by Bishop Elphin- stone ? or was it the south-western tower, which was the only bell-tower during the chronicler's time ? The other building prelates were Leigh- ton, 1424-41 ; Lindsay, 1441-59; Spence, 1459-80; Elphinstone, 1484-1514; Dunbar, 1518-32. This most munificent and excellent prelate, the worthy successor of the illustrious Elphinstone, built the south aisle of the transept, in which, with an allowable feeling, he constructed a tomb for the reception of his remains, little thinking that, within a few and evil years thereafter, the sanctuary of his rest would be invaded and rifled by felon troopers of the Cromwellian domination. Among other im- pressive mementoes of the humiliating vicissitudes of time, it is most touching to note how completely, save to the antiquarian, the monument of this great and good man has long ceased to be memorial. Some years ago, during the opening of a grave contiguous to the Bishop's tomb, the wall of the vault in which his remains had been placed was discovered, and (at the suggestion of the writer) the whole having been cleared out, it showed a recep- tacle some eight feet square and five deep, beauti- fully built of freestone ashlar. It presented but too palpable proofs of having been desecrated, being completely filled with rubbish like a dust- hole. There were some mouldering remains of an 92 OUR CATHEDRAL. oak coffin, lozenge-shaped pieces of tinselled tin, oyster shells, a fragment of a skull, and part of a backbone. All that remained of the Bishop's statue of black marble, which had lain under the arch of the tomb was one foot, trampling a dragon, all executed with great spirit and precision. There was also found the head of the effigy of a Canon, of much older date, which was restored to its trunk, which had long lain, and now lies, on the Bishop's tomb. As for the foot, that too was carefully placed there, and remained for some weeks, when it was stolen. What now remains, and has been so long used as a parish church, is only the nave of the original Cathedral. The ruin of the transept, of the choir, and of the central tower and steeple, was begun by " Hands, more rude than wintry sky." The portion left is the oldest part of the fabric ; and it is in this respect unique, that it is built of granite, but of a softer kind than that now used. It is somewhat singular that the less ancient por- tions are built of freestone. Viewed as it now stands, although sadly shorn of its original glory, the Cathedral is a highly pictu- resque and interesting object. The aspect of its western end, with its noble window of seven lights, flanked by lofty towers capped by those quaint old steeples, is singularly beautiful and striking more OUR CATHEDRAL. 93 especially when glowing in the mellowed ray of the western sun, and partly shaded by the venerable trees, which so beautify and solemnise the scene, redeeming the dreariness of the graveyard, and, by their obedience to the law of the seasons, so in- structively symbolising the change from mortal to immortal life. None but the veriest clod of the valley can be uninfluenced by the spell which binds one in the rapt contemplation of so fair a scene, of which the fascination is crowned by the swelling music of the Don " unseen, but not remote." Of a surety, other homilies there are than those de- livered from the pulpit by which the heart is made better. ABERDONIANS. Far fowls are fair feathered.' IN the character of Aberdonians there is, as in all others, somewhat to commend and somewhat to condemn. Let us not be deemed censorious if we select for the subject of a short essay a trait of character which all allow to be unworthy of Bon Accord. The trait of public character to which we allude is the propensity of Aberdonians to prefer strangers to public offices, to the prejudice of their fellow citizens. We mean not to assert that in no instance are our own people preferred to the stranger ; but we do affirm that an tmdtte preference has too fre- quently been shown to the latter in appointments to public offices. The truth of our assertion must be manifest to every one who bestows a moment's consideration on the subject. Survey our public institutions ; have they not been too often filled by those who were not born and bred in Aberdeen ? Is not this a common topic of self-reproach amongst us ? when a vacancy occurs in any of our public situations, does it not too frequently happen that a ABERDONIANS. 95 stranger is preferred to it ? When such a one is, at length, discovered to have been unworthy of the trust too unthinkingly reposed in him, immediately a hue and cry is raised against him, and after every- thing has been said against him which can be said, the vituperation is generally wound up with the remark " Well, we always prefer strangers to our own folks, and see what we get !" The fact is be- yond dispute ; we are naturally led to the considera- tion of its causes. Surely it is not unreasonable to expect that we should prefer our own children to the sons of the alien. Is it not natural for the parent to prefer his own to the child of another ? The bonds of affection are indeed less firmly knit in proportion as relationship is more remote ; but still, in every case where there subsists the slightest connection, the correspondent obligations are indis- pensable. One of the causes of our preferring strangers is that proneness, common to all, to admire what is novel. We overlook qualities of transcendent excellence in those with whom we hold daily intercourse ; while we fancy that we can discover peculiar virtues in those whom we behold for the first time. Another cause of our preference surely no very rational one is our ignorance of strangers. We are disposed to give them credit for the possession of all the good qualities which they are certified to have, or which they boldly claim for themselves. 96 ABERDONIANS. We seldom reflect that they must have their defects, which are discretely thrown into the shade when they appear as candidates for a situation. In our familiarity with the imperfections of our own people, we unfairly overlook their just claims on our patronage. Another cause of our undue preference of a stranger is, mutual jealousy and party spirit. In filling up public offices we are too apt to separate into parties, each with a favourite candidate of his own. It thus happens that a stranger, unconnected with any party, steps in, and is successful, owing to the unwillingness of one party to yield to another. Another effect is the discouragement of native talent. This effect is most deeply to be deplored ; its tendency is to eradicate from the minds of deserv- ing young men those natural sentiments of attach- ment to home which might one day induce them to confer important benefits on their native city, as a return for the fostering care which they had once enjoyed. Few, compared with those which other places have experienced, are those proofs of grateful remembrance for Bon Accord, bequeathed by her sons that have breathed their last in the land of the stranger. Instead of regarding their native city as a kind parent, many of these have had but too just reason to look upon her as a cruel stepmother, whom they could neither love nor respect. EXCURSIVE EDUCATION. FYTTE FIRST ICHTHYOLOGY. " Dulce est desipere in loco. HOR. THE public are aware that our system of education is about to undergo certain changes of a peculiar character, which have been strongly recommended in the interim reports of our " committees," to whose legislative care this important matter has been intrusted. This is the more necessary in the Grammar School, as the first report states, with confidence, that the system of education which has hitherto been pursued at that seminary, with acknowledged success, " does not give satisfaction to the public." That system has been chiefly pursued with a view to qualify our youth for their studies at the universities, an object which must appear to every "right-thinking mind" of very little importance. Besides, the system tends "to establish one of the worst habits for the human II 98 EXCURSIVE EDUCATION. mind that of reading without comprehending." True it is, indeed, that at the last visitation the boys not only translated and parsed the classic authors, but " were also required to give an account of the proper names of places or persons which occurred, and of any other word which might convey a knowledge of ancient manners, customs, or laws," true it is that Dr. Melvin states that " in every department the pupils are most carefully instructed not only in facts but principles, and taught to exercise their judgment as well as their memory," true it is that he further states, " it is presumed that those who have gone through the curriculum of our school, and have profited fully by the training, must, besides everything else, have acquired such habits of industry, attention, and accuracy, as cannot fail to be highly advan- tageous," yes, all this may be very true but " that's nothing !" No ! the committee boldly state it as their opinion that, "however diligently and anxiously for the mental improvement of their scholars the teachers in the Grammar School may have studied to convey their instruction, it is not to be believed that a profitable use can be made of five hours a-day of the life of youths of eight to fourteen studying the Latin language, and that, too, on a plan having chiefly for aim expertness in an almost mechanical task." "A habit of atten- tion, which may be considered the mark of a EXCURSIVE EDUCATION. 99 promising youth, cannot possibly be cultivated or preserved by demanding five hours' application in a dry pedantic study." "The task must be tire- some and insipid, unless, indeed \in order to enliven it and give it a zest], a remedy be called into play \which, however, is no joke, as we can testify /] which has been considered and used as the only specific for the cure of inapplication in many of the famous English classical schools [to say nothing of Solomons recommendation] viz. the liberal use of a degrading punishment \_pandies /], which ministers at the same time \]ww convenient /] in many cases a cure to the master's bad humour." No ! no ! a new order of things must prevail. A system of education must be introduced " better fitted for the tender mind" a mode of discipline must be adopted " better fitted for the tender" skin ! The schoolmaster, under the new system, " will be found teaching the meaning of the prepositions the most abstract terms in our lan- guage, with bits of wood, and making the import of to, towards, from, with, and by, as clear to the urchin as the shape of its top." Nay, more, "manu- factories of earthen, stone, and iron ware, and of cotton, linen, and woollen yarns and cloths, will not be in operation around him from year to year unvisited, and all the means they furnish for exercising the powers of observation, judgment, and reflection, and composition lost ! No ! he will ioo EXCURSIVE EDUCATION. take parties of his pupils by turns to examine some neighbouring manufactory, or to roam over the green fields of nature [say the Links\ and imbibe her instructions, aided by his living and affectionate voice ; he will require them to give a written account of what they have seen [by way of trial version], correct their exercises and point out their defects with a parent's care and tender- ness ; and, above all, he will persevere till he makes them what he wishes them to be." This this is the plan of intellectual of Pestalozzian instruc- tion which will be pursued not only in the above- mentioned departments, but also in another " to be afterwards mentioned ;" for " the means that may be employed to meet the capacities of tender youth, are endless as the resources of an able and enthusiastic teacher who is thoroughly inoculated with the Pestalozzian idea !" Such are the principles of the new system of education, a specimen of its practical operation which we lately had the happiness to behold we now proceed to detail. We were accidentally informed that it was in contemplation to take a " party" of the Grammar School boys to a Pesta- lozzian excursion to the Fish Market, for the purpose of instructing them in the elements of ichthyology, or the philosophy of fish. We had learned that the " movement" was to be conducted by a councillor who is "thoroughly inoculated EXCURSIVE EDUCATION, 101 with the Pestalozzian idea," and who had made voluntary tender of his services on the occasion in the absence of the Pestalozzian professor of ichthyology, who was daily expected from the Sketraw. As we promised ourselves some instruc- tion and no small amusement from this expedition, we contrived to give our bodily presence at the time and place appointed in the Grammar School on Friday, which was judiciously selected as the most convenient day. When we approached the seminary of classic lore, our ears were greeted by certain sounds of youthful mirth and jollity, in which it was once our delight to join in our "tender age." The happy rogues were beating time with their feet, not to the " march of intel- lect," but to the good old rhyme '.' Ofor the play, boys ! Friday is the day, boys!" At the well-known sounds our heart leaped within us for very joy ! We entered the class-room in a flurry of delight, and squeezed ourselves into a faction near the door, although with some difficulty, as the seat and our corporation appeared to have changed their relative proportions since the period of our boyhood. At first we were taken for the professor, and there was temporary silence and expectation among the " laddies ;" but we were soon stripped of our transitory importance by 102 EXCURSIVE EDUCATION. being unluckily recognised by some of the young dogs, who simultaneously squalled out, "It's nae him it's nae him. It's only come to see the shine !" This announcement was received with a tremendous ruff, and most uproarious cheering, which might have perchance been 'fol- lowed up by other tokens of recognition more free than welcome, when the riotous " demonstration " was interrupted by the bona fide entrance of the professor, who forthwith established himself in the maisters desk, when " There was silence deep as death, And the boldest held his breath For a time ! " Several of the youngsters looked round to see how we were affected by the presence. Poor little fellows ! they might have saved themselves the trouble ; we were prepared for the worst. We were not recognised by the professor, however ; and, indeed, were probably by him taken for one of his disciples, for we have long relinquished the vain wish that a cubit were added unto our stature. The professor, after a few preliminary hems, addressed his pupils as follows : Professor. My dear boys ! the long wished-for period has at length arrived when you are to be disenthralled from the worse than Egyptian bond- EXCURSIVE EDUCATION. 103 age under which you have hitherto groaned ; when you are to be emancipated from the iron fetters of antiquated forms, manumitted from the slavery of pedantic studies, and entered as free denizens of the kingdom of nature. (A ruff} A new era has arrived in the moral, intellectual, political, and physical organisation of society, in which the rising generation are particularly interested. In- stead of being necessitated to get by rote dry rules of grammar, and to con over lessons in a dead language, you are now to be initiated into the mysteries of the " green field, the manufac- tory, and the dockyard;" and, instead of being lacerated by the hateful engines of corporal punish- ment, you are to be cheered on in your delightful tasks by the " affectionate voice" of your teacher. {Tremendous cheers. Cries of "Burn tJie tards /" "No flogging!"} My dear boys, it affords me heartfelt satis- faction to hear these spontaneous demonstrations of your unsophisticated feelings. (A ruff} Rest assured that the period is rapidly approximating when a tards will be reckoned among the number of things that were, and only preserved in the cabinets of the curious. (Thunders} Instead of being obliged, as formerly, to pursue your dry studies caged-up in " pitiful class-rooms," you will have the never-dying delectation of prosecuting your utilitarian researches under the open canopy io 4 EXCURSIVE EDUCATION. of the sky ! The true the Pestalozzian the intellectual principle of education is to convey instruction through the " medium of the senses," by familiar manipulation, and by ocular demon- stration. (One cheer more.) Nor will your interests alone be attended to, but arrangements will be entered into for promoting the intellectual educa- tion of those whom a reverend friend of mine has emphatically denominated " the finer sex." In the new system no place will be found for coercive measures all will be carried on by the immortal voluntary principle. (Ruffing?) To submit to be educated on any other principle is to forfeit the birthright of free-born Britons nay, of ratioci- native beings ! Such an order of things opens up a delightful vista to the Pestalozzian philanthropist. He sees in it the bloodless triumphs of intellectual manifestations, when universal peace shall reign, and we shall hear no more the sounds of what has been falsely termed "the pomp and circumstance of glorious war." (Drums in Gordon's Hospital beat to arms answered by a volley of ruffing) No ! my dear boys ! let others " follow to the field their martial lord," we shall turn a deaf ear alike to the " spirit-stirring drum," " the shrill fife," or " soft recorders!" Even music will have no charms for us, unless it be brought to bear on the elucidation of the useful arts. (Band strikes tip " The rock an' tti wee pickle tow"} The object of our present EXCURSIVE EDUCATION. 105 meeting is to study that branch of natural science called IcJitJiyology. This word, as I have been informed by my reverend friend to whom I have already alluded, and who is celebrated for quoting original Greek, is derived from two Greek vocables, the one meaning a fish, and the other method. Under the former term are comprehended not only the finny tenants of the deep, but also lobsters, partans, oysters, and mussels, and, as my reverend friend deems highly probable, and extremely pro- per, Finnan haddies also. But, as my friend well observes, " whatever discrepancy may exist among commentators as to the classification of the latter, there can be but one opinion as to the pre-eminent place which they occupy among the ' good things ' of this world." The waters which cover the surface of this earth, whether they be oceans, seas, rivers, lakes, or burns, or ponds, or dams, or canals, are filled with innumerable living creatures, whose instincts are as different as their forms and colours are beautiful ; among these various tribes the fishes are by far the most valuable. They are found alike under the dreary skies of the poles, and in the burning latitudes of the tropics. They supply us with wholesome and nutritious food, with oil, and various other matters of convenience "to be afterwards mentioned." Well has Dr. Franklin observed, that "he who takes a fish out of the 106 EXCURSIVE EDUCATION. water, finds a piece of money." This is a saying which could not have emanated from any one except the citizen of a free country like America. But to come to particulars. There is the herring, which, although a small fish, is nevertheless king of the sea. Herrings are said to attack the whale, whose gigantic size might well entitle him to the despotism of the deep, yet they overpower him by numbers. Hence we may learn that union among themselves must render the friends of liberty omnipotent. It was this principle which rendered complete the triumph of the memorable Bill. You have probably heard of that dreadful fish called the shark, or what sailors term sea- lawyers. It is a most voracious fish, and ought to be speedily extirpated from the ocean. From its other name, in conjunction with its devouring propensities, we may naturally deduce as a corol- lary the necessity of a speedy law-reform. From this, again, we may readily infer the urgency of reform in every department of Church and State. Ah ! my dear boys, of how extensive application is the Pestalozzian principle, which teaches us to connect together causes and effects the most remote ! But why should we sit here, when we ought to listen to the instructions of Nature in the Fish Market, where the unsophisticated matrons of Collieston and the sturdy damsels of the Cove may be considered as her handmaidens? This this EXCURSIVE EDUCATION. 107 is our schoolroom ; here shall we best study ichthyology through " the medium of the senses." Thrice happy your fate to live in times like these, when the " Pestalozzian idea," germinated and reared beneath the genial skies of the south, is destined to bloom and bourgeon in this " our northern city cold !" Before we set out, allow me to say that we will pursue our route by the Mutton Brae, in the neighbourhood of which were formerly held numerous meetings of the supporters of the Bill, and where an eloquent triumvirate were wont to lend their oratorical talents to forward the good cause. Then we shall wend our way along the banks of the meandering Denburn, whence we shall steer our course through the Green to the arena of our Pestalozzian exercitations. Agreeably to this resolution, the professor left the class-room, followed by a tail of a score of boys. The " party" excited considerable interest as they passed along. Bakers, grocers, shoe- makers in Kilmarnocks and leathern aprons, etc etc., turned out to behold the passing spectacle. Various were the conjectures formed about the object of the expedition. The boys were in high glee, and cut manifold capers. The professor seemed to be absorbed in his " pursuit of know- ledge," and was all-unconscious of a long paper queue with which one of the rogues had kindly accommodated him. Some of them had pur- ro8 EXCURSIVE EDUCATION. chased "crackers" in a neighbouring shop, which combustibles they distributed among sundry bou- rocks of auld wives in the Mutton Brae who had turned out with their shanks to see what was the matter. These proceedings excited the wrath of the aged females, who speedily withdrew within their domiciles, from the doors and windows of which, as from loop-holes in a garrison, they discharged certain "winged words" with dire intent, which it was impossible to mistake. Little remarkable occurred at the Denburn till their arrival at the Bridge, under which some of the boys discharged small-arms as a practical illustration of the Pistol- ozzian manner of " teaching the young idea how to shoot !" When they were opposite the head of Carmelite Street they were attentively surveyed by a member of the /$Y/ / S. DEVORET E T. T E. OR. PRO CUP A N I M A. I do not pretend to give the original letters or contractions, which time or accident seems to have effaced from the inscription. It is impossible to determine what selection the stone-cutter may have made in his drafts on the Roman and Irish alphabets. At all events, he must have so managed matters as to confine his work within the prescribed limits. I translate the above as follows : O ! Cross ! Time may destroy thee, too ! Pray ANCIENT INSCRIPTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 313 for his (the person named in the first part of the in- scription) soul ! Now, there is a singularity in this inscription : the first word (Chros} is Gaelic, and the rest are Latin. How may this be accounted for? The ancient Gaelic term for a cross is cros. The -vocative is formed by aspirating the nominative into chros. To write the Latia crux with the Irish character was impossible. The alphabet has no x, and the sound of this letter is foreign to the Gaelic language. Hence, instead of Sarenach, we have Sassenach. Thus there was an obvious necessity for using the vocative of the Gaelic word, cros. I conjecture that, as was usual in such cases, the first part of the inscription contained the name of the person to whose memory the cross was erected. Thus, the part above deciphered would be a very natural sequence. It is marked by all that touching simplicity which is characteristic of inscriptions on monuments of the same era, noticed by Mr. Petrie, whose accurate and tasteful re- searches have thrown so much light on some of the darkest and most interesting points of Gaelic antiquities. Of the devices, animals, etc., on the back of the cross, I shall not here speak, as my present business is with the inscriptions. Suffice it to say, that I think I could prove that some of these devices are borrowed from monuments still extant in Scotland, 3H ANCIENT INSCRIPTIONS IN SCOTLAND. the age of which exceeds that of the cross by many centuries. The next inscription which I shall notice is that on an ancient monument in the Church of Fordun. Fordun is a parish of Kincardineshire, the county immediately north of Forfarshire. Kincardineshire is sometimes called the Mearns, and its people, "the men of the Mearns." In the old Irish Annals they are called " Viri na Moerner* There are many interesting particulars connected with the parish of Fordun. John de Fordun, author of the Scotickronicon, was either a native of it, or resided there, when he wrote his History of Scotland. It was the native parish of George Wishart the Scottish Martyr ; of the eccentric Lord Monboddo ; and of Beattie, author of " the Minstrel." Further, it was the locale of the famous shrine of St. Palladius. The remains of Paldy Chapel are still standing ; there is still Paldy, or Pady Fair ; and there is a well in the minister's garden, called St. Palladius' Well. Some will have it that the famous Saint actually lived, died, and was buried here. I am not sufficiently acquainted with our early ecclesiastical history to give any opinion on the subject ; but I am disposed to agree with those who think that Pady Chapel was built, not by the Saint, but by some of his Irish disciples, who came to this part of Scotland, probably with some of his relics. His mission certainly was to * Instance of mixture of Latin and Gaelic. ANCIENT INSCRIPTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 315 Ireland, "ad Scotos in Christum credentes." The earlier Christian churches in this quarter were certainly Columban ; but some may have been of Ninian, or Palladian origin. Even at the early period referred to the spirit of ecclesiastical rivalry seems to have been at work. At all events, the chapel of St. Palladius was always accounted the mother church of the Mearns. But to come to the matter in hand : the ancient monument to which I refer (some account of which was first given by the late Professor Stuart, of Marischal College, Aberdeen), was first observed upon taking down the old church of Fordun, some sixty years ago. " It had been placed horizontally as a base for the pulpit to rest on, and was con- sidered of so little consequence, as to be thrown aside for many years into the old chapel of St. Palladius, hard by." This old church of Fordun was so old, that it was new roofed about 360 years ago. After lying neglected for a long time, the old stone attracted the attention of the parish minister, who had it cleaned, and a drawing of it taken. The material is a very coarse freestone. The dimensions, five feet one inch in length, by two feet eleven inches broad, thickness fully four inches. It is carved on one side only. The emblematical devices are three figures on horseback, a greyhound, a wild boar, a serpent, or dragon ; and the peculiar spectacle device 316 ANCIENT INSCRIPTIONS IN SCOTLAND. like that on other old monuments in the north of Scotland. To these I do not refer at present ; my business being with the inscription. Professor Stuart makes it probable that this monument commemorates the assassination of King Kenneth III., in the year 994. His Majesty is said, by our historians, to have been assassinated at the instiga- tion of Finele, " daughter," says the Professor, " of Cruchne, Maormor of Angus." This should be the CruitJme (Pictish) Maormor of Angus. The royal residence was at Kincardine. In the neighbour- hood are StratJi-Finclla and Den-Findla. In this case, history is confirmed by tradition and topo- graphical etymology. A drawing of the fragmen- tary inscription will be found in the ArcJiceologia Scotica, vol. ii. p. 315. There has been another line, if not more, above what remains, and I do not pretend to be able to decipher that with certainty ; but it strikes me that it looks like Kcnkardin or Kinkardin, the name ANCIENT INSCRIPTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 317 of the royal residence. It is to be observed that the costume of the human figures on this monu- ment is exactly the same as that of the only human figure on the Cross of St. Vigean, belonging, as I conjecture, to the same period. The next inscription which I shall notice is that on an old monument which was found some years ago in the parish of Insch, Aberdeenshire. The dimensions of the stone are six feet by one foot eight inches. The inscription runs along the central length of the stone. It is ORKCPRy*HK9/iR/]DVLFI ? S/VCCflDO^I S this is evidently : \Orate pro Anima Radulphi Sacerdotis. The characters show the influence of Anglo-Sax- onism at the period when the monument was executed. There are some grounds for believing, that it was placed over the grave of Radulph, Bishop of Aberdeen, who died in 1247. I have been induced to give the above speci- mens of ancient inscriptions in Scotland, in the hope that they may incite the able and zealous archaeologists of Ireland to direct their attention to the subject. There are other inscriptions in this country of perhaps greater interest, to which I forbear to refer ; partly because I confess my entire ignorance of their nature, and partly because I 3 1 8 ANCIENT IN SCRIP TIONS IN SCO TLAND. believe they have already attracted the notice of members of the Royal Irish Academy, from whom, if from any, the interpretation of those inscriptions may be expected. Between the antiquities of Ireland and those of the north of Scotland there are many points of interesting connection. The aborigines of both countries belonged to the same great family of the human race ; both remained almost equally intact from the ambition of ancient Rome ; neither had to bow the neck to the yoke of the old Saxons ; both were harassed by the Danes ; and while the Picts were compelled, partially, to succumb to warriors of Irish descent, it was to missionaries of Irish origin that they owed their first acquaintance with the Gospel of Peace ! In both countries are still to be found many memorials of aboriginal times, which had once their resemblances in England, but which have there disappeared under "the tramp- lings of three conquests," and the march of modern improvement. I refer, particularly, to those remote times when Druidism bore its mystic sway. Its usages yet linger in customs of popular superstition, although oblivion has long since fallen on the meaning attached to them by a crafty, powerful, and domineering hierarchy. Many an age has passed since its oracles became dumb ; but the nomenclature of its religious creed is still employed to express, by the unwitting Gael of the present A NCI E NT I NSC RIP TIONS IN SCO TLAND. 3 1 9 day, some of the mysteries of his purer faith ! We have still the mysterious " temple," with its massive " cromlech," the poetry of the solitary moor, and seldom-trodden height, many of which have been protected by our landed proprietors, with com- mendable feeling, disregarding not the protest against eviction of those adscripta glebes, and refus- ing to abandon to " Hands more rude than wintry winds." relics which have braved the buffetings of countless storms. NOTES ON THE PRESENT STATE OF CRIME. THIS subject is still a leading topic of discussion by all the more influential organs of opinion and their numerous correspondents. It has been a theme of comment by several of the English Judges on their various circuits, and in one instance a strong representation of the necessity of penal reform was made by a Grand Jury through its Foreman, the Speaker of the House of Commons. In short, various circumstances have recently con- curred to rouse the community to earnest con- sideration of the state of crime under its multiform relations and aspects, and to produce a universal conviction that some vital change of our penal system is indispensable to the security of society. The system under which criminals have been disposed of during the last few years, involved a great change from that which preceded it. It was, of course, experimental, and its merits or demerits are being only now practically ascertained. That, to a considerable extent, it has proved a failure PRESENT STA TE OF CRIME. 32 , seems to be admitted even by its warmest advo- cates. That this has been particularly the case in England is beyond denial. A great blunder has been committed in making the terms of penal servitude awarded by the Bench convey a false meaning. It is absurd to read of a Judge solemnly expatiating on the severity of a sentence of ten years' penal servitude, when it is well known that this really means only seven years' confinement. Then, it is stated by most competent authorities, and popularly believed, that this confinement is.no adequate punishment ; that, in fact, it is accom- panied by so little of that suffering and discomfort which are the essence of penal infliction, that it falls altogether short of the end of all punishment, the deterring from crime. Reflection and common sense seem now to have reached the conclusion, that the change from the old to the present system partook not a little of the character of a rush from one scheme to another. Without doubt, a decided change was in various respects imperative. Our penal code was in many instances cruelly severe, and the reformation of criminals was a thing scarcely thought of unless by a few considerate philan- thropists. Many comparatively venial offences against property were visited by the terrible punish- ment justly attached to the most atrocious murder. Retrospection to those times now fills us with astonishment that the community should have so Y 322 PRESENT STA TE OF CRIME. long submitted to so cruel, so unchristian a system. But the great crisis in our political relations which occurred some thirty years ago, imparted to popular opinion an authority which has made itself powerfully felt along every fibre of our social frame. This influence was beneficially manifested in the proceedings of our Criminal Courts. It was tacitly respected by the Bench : it purified and improved the selection of Juries ; and encouraged those Juries to assert their constitutional independence. Popular feeling and opinion, acting through Juries, corrected the too sanguinary character of the law. Jurors chose rather to do violence to their convic- tions, than perpetrate what in their estimation was a greater evil the consigning of a fellow-creature to capital punishment for an offence adequately punished by a few months' imprisonment. Nothing could have more clearly indicated the confliction between the law and public opinion, which is, in fact, the basis of all law. But the uncertainty of punishment caused by this anomalous state of things was found to involve defeat of the very ends of punishment. The only remedy, therefore, was to reconcile the character of the criminal code with the conclusions of intelligent and humane opinion, and to aim at the prevention of crime by the increased certainty of appropriate punishment. The number of capital offences was accordingly reduced to treason, murder, and arson attended PRESENT STATE OF CRIME. 323 with the loss of life ; of which the second is that most frequently appearing in our Criminal Courts. A leading defect of the old system was the undue severity with which offences against property were visited, which was rendered all the more glaring when contrasted with the comparative leniency with which offences against the person were punished. This may have been owing to the statutory nature of the former class of crimes, and reform was undoubtedly most imperative in this department. But little or no attention seems to have been directed to the inquiry, whether some improvement was not required in the penal treat- ment of offences against the person ? This inquiry, however, seems likely to be now forced upon our law reformers by the alarming prevalence of such offences, not only in the metropolis, but in almost every county of England. Scarcely a week passes without some appalling record of homicide, or of violent and cruel assault. Witness the many deliberate murders caused by revenge, jealousy, covetousness, lust, and intemperance, or wanton blood-thirstiness ! What fearful disclosures of other crimes and gross immoralities are afforded by the trials of the criminals ! Now there seems to be a growing and well-founded impression that in too many instances those crimes are not punished with adequate severity, and that this is a direct cause of the increasing jeopardy of human 324 PRESENT STATE OF CRIME. life. It outrages the sense of justice to find, at the same assizes, a set of unfortunate creatures, con- victed of theft, and doomed to years of penal servitude ; while some ruffian, convicted of culpable homicide, is sentenced only to some months imprisonment ! Then there are cases, not a few, of what most people would consider murder, which are softened down into culpable homicide, either through the quirkiness of counsel, or the unaccountable, and seemingly capricious doubts and difficulties insinuated by the Bench, or by some culpable carelessness in the getting up of the prosecution. So very anomalous are some of those cases, that one would think that the object of committal for trial was rather to favour the escape of the criminal scot-free, than to prosecute him to conviction ! Now, such a system seems a gross inversion of the natural order of things. Surely one's life is of more value than his purse, or even all that he has. Protection of property undoubtedly implies previous provision for the personal security of its owner. Undue leniency, in such cases as those referred to is cruelty and injustice to society. It directly encourages atrocities not merely perilous to the individual, but brutalising to society, by the revolting accounts of their perpetration, and the hideous punishment which they occasionally entail. To keep down such crimes there ought to be adequate certainty PRESENT STATE OF CRIME. 325 of punishment proportionate to their particular character ; while inferior courts of summary pro- cedure might be beneficially intrusted with increased powers, not of fine, but of punishment by flogging and imprisonment, even in the more common cases of offences against the person. There are many other matters connected with this subject which seem obviously susceptible of improvement. To these further reference is mean- time postponed. There ought to be such a thorough revision of our criminal code and procedure, as to render the Court of Appeal, which some have pro- jected, comparatively unnecessary ; for what does such a project imply but faultiness in the primary proceedings ? Trial by jury is too sacred a popular right to be tampered with, either directly or in- directly. Infallible it is not ; but what merely human institution is so ? All that can reasonably be expected of criminal law and procedure is that they shall be so framed and administered as to diminish the chances of error as much as possible. We have already referred, in general terms, to the failure of our system of penal servitude, partly in consequence of its errors in principle, and partly through the faultiness of its administration. In the endeavour to reconcile the penal with the reforma- tory intention of imprisonment, failure has been the consequence in both respects. It does seem to exceed all the reasonable claims of humanity, when 326 PRESENT STATE OF CRIME. it is deemed a duty to support convicted criminals in a degree of personal comfort denied to those whom the chances of life have reduced to a state of honest poverty. We are assured by parties who have personally inspected our places of penal ser- vitude, that they are less like prisons than institu- tions founded by the tenants themselves, to sharpen the faculties of swindlers by a good education, and to send out garotters, after an excellent course of physical training, to prey the more effectually upon the public. It is stated as a fact, that some time ago a chairman of Quarter Sessions having sentenced two prisoners to four years' penal servi- tude under a misapprehension, was obliged after- wards to reduce the sentence to a year's imprison- ment in the House of Correction. The next day the prisoners actually sent to him to say that they were advised that, having been convicted upon two counts of the indictment, they were en- titled to the longer sentence, and to entreat that it might be inflicted ! In fact, the " run " of the prison is far superior to that of the House of Correction ; and, far from deterring from crime, it seems rather to encourage it, for, the more aggravated the offence, the less disagreeable the punishment ! The inmates of our penal institutions have a wholesome, nutritious, and toothsome dietary, about which they are very particular. Loud and indig- nant are their complaints if there is the slightest PRESENT STATE OF CRIME. 327 error in the quantity, quality, or cookery of their meals. Banyan days are unknown in these " stone- frigates," the daily dinner including a handsome portion of the best butcher-meat, beef and mutton being given on alternate days to prevent unpleasant monotony ! There is besides a basin of savoury soup, and a sufficit of first-rate potatoes, " admirably boiled." Breakfast consists of a proper allowance of bread and restorative cocoa ; and for supper there is a pint of balmy " brochan." The prisoner's bed-room is a snug little place, clean, well-aired, and pleasantly warm. There is every comfort about the bed to induce sound sleep ; every week the prisoner has his refreshing bath, heated to an agree- able temperature ; and he enjoys the devoted ser- vices of chaplain, doctor, and schoolmaster. If he likes to be rather reserved, attractive books are at his command ; if he is gregariously inclined, he has society, rather numerous, however, than select. In short, to regard his confinement and treatment as a punishment were absurd. Then, if he feels even this confinement rather irksome, he may abridge it by a mechanical conformity with prison routine, which makes him a good prisoner, but not a whit the better man. There is no such thing as really hard labour in any of the prisons. Calico- weaving, mat-making, shoemaking, and such light occupa- tions are the only descriptions of work performed within the prison. The prisoner is consulted, as 328 PRESENT STA TE OF CRIME. far as the resources of the establishment permit, as to the particular trade he prefers ; and, if he chooses to be industrious, he may earn a considerable gra- tuity, carefully saved up for him by the Govern- ment, and amounting at the end of a long term of punishment to 20, and sometimes even ^40 ! At Portland, where there is out-door work, some are employed in blacksmiths' shops, some at brick- layer's or mason's work, but the majority work in the quarries. In winter they work about eight and a half hours, in summer nine hours daily; but they take it very easily, five of them doing no more than is accomplished by two free labourers working for hire ! This explains why criminals make so light of what is termed hard labour. Should a shower fall, they are actually marched off to sheds for protection, while the honest labourer plods on through foul and fair! At noon the latter sits down, when he works, to his poor dinner of bread and cheese, with some occasional scrap in the way of relish, and a jug of sober coffee ; while the con- vict is marched to quarters, where he first makes his toilet, and then sits down to his ample and savoury dinner, either in solitary enjoyment, or in a snug little mess of some half-dozen. We have already mentioned what is the usual " run of the kitchen ;" but convicts who choose to behave so decorously as to obtain the " fruits of good living," in the only sense which they seem PRESENT STATE OF CRIME. 329 capable of appreciating, may obtain a standard of moral excellence which is marked by an ascending scale of " suet-dumpling, baked meat, treacle- dumpling, cheese, and beer!" These creature- comforts, the regularity of habits, the cleanliness, and the " constitutional" labour which the convicts undergo, all tend to keep him in tip-top health and good spirits, and are an agreeable and refreshing change after the irregular hand-to-mouth, feast-and- fast sort of lives which they have led previous to imprisonment. At length, when there is no real regard for social and moral amendment, even this regular and easy life palls, and the convict, un- changed in heart, sighs for enlargement, with all its roving licentiousness. In many cases he quits a prison a more depraved being than he was when he entered it. This is caused not only by the mis- direction of what is intended to be reformatory treatment, but by the directly injurious conse- quences arising from a promiscuous intercourse among the convicts which it is impossible to pre- vent. It may be easily imagined that the conver- sation which prevails on such occasions is not of the most refined or edifying character. " Old hands" recount their criminal exploits with great gusto to groups of admiring " greenhorns," who thus learn the arts of housebreaking, lock and pocket picking, and the scientific use of the bludgeon or life- preserver. In short, such a system is neither a 330 PRESENT STA TE OF CRIME. terror to evil-doers nor a praise and protection to such as do well. When its natural tendencies are considered, the results, as manifested by the increase and atrocity of crime, cease to be matter of wonder. A return to our former system of transportation has been generally recommended as a ready and effectual means of getting rid of the evils of penal servitude. Transportation has not been altogether discontinued, but it is resorted to in comparatively few instances. Formerly, for many years, it was a ready outlet for criminals ; and the home country had thus good riddance of them, while their labour was of great importance to our nascent colonies. By convicts all great and useful Government works were executed ; and not a few of them were use- fully employed by private individuals. In those days transportation was awarded for comparatively light offences, and in other cases not implying great depravity of character. Not a few convicts, there- fore, betaking themselves resolutely to honest in- dustry, attained, in process of time, much wealth and consequent consideration. They had chances of well-doing which they never could have com- manded at home, where even their merited pro- sperity was rather unlikely than otherwise to cause their unfortunate antecedents to be overlooked. Besides, in our Australian colonies there was boundless scope for enterprise. There was society for those of a social turn ; there were " fresh fields PRESENT STATE OF CRIME. 331 and pastures ever new" for those who preferred the independence, tranquillity, and ease, of com- parative solitude. All went well until sad abuses crept into the system of convict management. Convicts were permitted the unrestricted purchase of intoxicating liquors even from the very Govern- ment officials ! A train of mischiefs followed, so that at length the colonists, greatly increased in settled communities, in wealth, social refinement, and respectability, loudly protested against a con- tinuance of the then system of transportation, as threatening their utter ruin. Their complaints were listened to ; the system, instead of being im- proved, was abolished ; and the evils of which the colonists complained were transferred to the home- country. But experience has shown that trans- portation is best suited to those colonies which are in a state of comparative infancy. Along the west, and particularly the northern coast of Australia, there are vast tracts suitable for the purpose ; and in some quarters convict labour would be thank- fully received. It is some such improved system of transportation which is now advocated, as a measure beneficial both to the home country and to the colonies. ANCIENT CITY WELLS. No city in the empire is supplied with better water for every domestic purpose than Aberdeen. It was not, however, until after the lapse of many centuries, the adoption of various imperfect expedients, and a world of local contention, that our citizens bethought themselves of applying to the river Dee, as the source of a never-failing supply of an element indis- pensable to their health and comfort. Availing myself of some curious particulars, kindly com- municated by an antiquarian friend (W. D.*), I have thought it may not be deemed uninteresting to give a history of some of the earlier projects for furnishing the city with one of the prime necessaries of life. In ancient times the wants of the community, in the respect referred to, appear to have been supplied either from draw-wells, or from the various burns which traversed the town, the waters of which then flowed in all their primitive purity. * The sagacious, witty, kind, true-hearted William Dun- can. Next to the last literary work Mr. Ramsay finished was that memorial notice of his friend, W. D., inserted in an earlier part of this volume. Mr. Ramsay's last writing was a short memoir of another friend, very dear to the Editor. ANCIENT CITY WELLS. 333 Before the Reformation it was customary to dedi- cate wells either to the Virgin or to some favourite saint Hence, St. Mary's well, which gave name to Marywell Street of the present day ; St. John's Well, still dispensing its limpid stream in the neighbourhood of Gilcomston Church ; and the Angel Well, near Hanover Street, which was pro- bably dedicated to St. Michael. Each of the four Monasteries formerly in the town had its well, all of which have been discovered in the course of modern improvements. That of the Trinity Friars was immediately underneath the eastern wall of the Charter-room erected by the Incorporated Trades. The Corbie Well, on the Denburn, is so called from its flowing from the base of what was anciently named the Corbie Heugh, where part of an old forest afforded shelter for a settlement of rooks. Tradition has it that the old trees were cut down to furnish timber for building the steeple of St. Nicholas. In the ancient Bead House was a large well, which recently remained in a house in Correction Wynd. It probably supplied the water required for the ceremonial of the adjacent church of St. Nicholas. The Garden Nook Well, still to be seen, was dedicated to the Virgin, and probably quenched the thirst of our "ancient forefathers" in the heat of their sports in the contiguous Play Field. Among the old draw-wells for common use was one situated in Park Street (close by No. 17), near 334 ANCIENT CITY WELLS. the corner of East North Street. This was made in 1558, when licence was given to William Ronald- son and his neighbours to dig a well without the Thieves' Port, provided it were enclosed with a wall of stone and lime. Elderly citizens recollect this well. It was of great depth ; and the water was raised by means of a bucket, rope, and wheel. The loch appears to have anciently supplied water for domestic purposes. In process of time, however, it became unfit for such uses. In 1632 the muni- cipal authorities, " considering the great necessity wherein the neighbours of the town stood through want of pure and clean water to serve their houses ; and that the most part of the water wherewith they were served, coming only from the loch, was filthily defiled and corrupted, not only by the gutters daily running into the burn, but also by litsters [dyers], and the washing of clothes, and the abusing of the water in sundry parts, with other sorts of unclean- ness," came to the resolution that fountains should be erected at the public expense for a proper sup- ply of water. For this purpose the Burgesses of Guild agreed to be taxed ; and Thomas Garden, convener of the trades, promised 1000 merks Scots, for himself and in name of the trades, for the furtherance of the work. Not a little water was at this time required for the brewing of ale. Even about a century earlier, there were no fewer than 150 " browsters" in the town. The scheme of 1632, ANCIENT CITY WELLS. 335 however, was never carried into execution, in conse- quence of the civil commotions, from which Aber- deen suffered so much for nearly half-a-century. The population was about this time nearly 9000 ; but towards the end of the seventeenth century it had de- creased to 6000. So the citizens were forced to put up with such water as they had, supplies of which were distributed by licensed water-carriers. In 1655 William Ingram and William Steven paid 10 merks yearly for the privilege of being " burne beirers." In 1682 another proposal to erect fountains proved as unsuccessful as that of 1632. In 1706, however, a similar project had better speed. Bailie Stewart was " ordained to buy as much lead as would be sufficient for pipes and cisterns for bring- ing water from Garden's Well." The work, how- ever, went but slowly on, for, in 1708, the Town- Council, " considering the many retardments that Joseph Forester, plumber, had met with in bringing in the water, allowed him the sum of .200 Scots, with ^36 of drink money to his servants." Joseph's servants, although labouring to supply the com- munity with fair water, seem to have had no fancy for the exclusive potation of it themselves. A century earlier their labours would probably have been beguiled by a tune on the bagpipes, a sort of creature-comfort which was liberally supplied by the town piper to the workmen employed on the old south pier. James Mackie and John Burnet 336 ANCIENT CITY WELLS. agreed, in 1706, to build the first fountain at Car- den's well for IQ sterling. About this time William Lindsay was appointed overseer of the new fountains, with a yearly salary of 200 Scots. He engaged to erect a statue of brass on the Castlegate Well, with four " antick faces" on the corners thereof, whence water might play ad libitum. This hydraulic fancy seems to have been found rather expensive ; so a wooden statue, gilded over, was erected instead of the brazen image. The new wells appear to have been the favourite rendezvous of gossips, both male and female, to the great hindrance of business. In 1710 the authorities were obliged to ordain, that " stands or casks were not to remain at the wells longer than necessary." The town sergeants were authorised to "break casks, stands, or pans, and to make use of the brass and timber thereof for their own use ; they always bring- ing the broken pans to the clerk's chamber." The latter clause seems to have been enacted in view of the possibility of any compunctious feelings on the part of the sergeants towards condemned pans, in- asmuch as it was natural for those functionaries to prefer keeping entire the forfeited utensils, seeing that they were " for their own use." At the same time persons were prohibited from washing any- thing at the wells ; and " all women from washing and tramping in tubs in any part of the streets of the burgh, under the penalty of 20 Scots." ANCIENT CITY WELLS. 337 The demand for water still increasing with the increase of the population, it was resolved, in 1 766, to bring an additional supply from the " Gilcomston Spring," and to erect a reservoir in Broad Street for the water brought from Fountainhall, which reser- voir still remains. The execution of the work was committed to Mr. Selbie, plumber, Edinburgh. Now, this project appears to have been the source of much curious contention. The building of the reservoir was being proceeded with when a droll difficulty was started by certain dwellers in the Broadgate and Gallowgate, to whom a supply of mere water appears to have been a secondary object. They addressed to the Town-Council an earnest memorial, setting forth that the said reser- voir " would shut up the dial-plate on the College Kirk from public view." True, there was the College clock ; but this time-measurer they charged with such " insufficiency," that its vagaries " led the neighbourhood into sundry errors and mistakes." It would seem that these worthy citizens were con- scious that it required a steady clock, indeed, to keep them to time ; for they candidly confessed that " an exact clock would tend much to promote regularity and good order in their quarter, an event very desirable" They prayed, therefore, that a new clock and dial-plate might be placed in front of the reservoir. Moved by this frank representation, and duly perpending the grave necessity of provid- z 338 ANCIENT CITY WELLS. ing the means of enabling the fallible, but ingenuous petitioners to keep good hours, the Council resolved to put up the desiderated clock, "in a handsome and genteel manner." This looks like a considerate wish on the part of the authorities to correct the irregularities of their petitioners with as little offence as might be to their feelings. Up, then, went the clock ! but, alas ! for the unfortunate memorialists ! In the course of two years, " regul- arity and good order" in their quarter were still found to be as "desirable an event" as ever. A dial-plate, indeed, had been administered in their case ; but it was far too obstinate to yield to any- thing short of the exhibition of a bell, too ! The merely "silent monitor" without, seems to have been as " insufficient" as that within them. What availed it to admonish them of the value of time through one sense only the sense of sight bootless o' nights, and, at any time, so liable to tantalising fits of duplexity ! No, their sense of hearing must also be appealed to. They required something striking to make a due impression. So, " on a petition from a great number of the inhabit- ants, a striking part and a bell, " were ordered to be added to the clock on the reservoir. This seems to have had the desired effect To this wise provision may we, doubtless, ascribe the " regularity and good order " which have ever since characterised the worthy " nichtbours" in this quarter ! Of elder ANCIENT CITY WELLS. 339 denizens of the gossipdom, old Time has spared a remnant to enjoy well-earned ease, and a crack about days of yore, amid the tasteful amenities of suburban retirement. We may remark, by the way, that the College folks seem never to have complained of the " insufficiency" of their clock ; their habitual discipline probably making amends for the free and easy system pursued by their horologe. Among other objectors to the reservoir a staid old lady complained that it " obstructed her lights" but whether of her domicile or under- standing appeareth not ; while a certain merchant took out an " interdict " against the unhappy build- ing reasons not stated. Nevertheless the reservoir was completed, and did its duty ; when, in the course of some twenty years, " the letting out of its water " again symbol- ised "the beginning of strife." In 1791 eighty citizens memorialised the Town-Council, to the effect that the water of the reservoir was " strongly impregnated with tar, in consequence of the im- proper mode of repairing the seams and rents in its bottom, by which great disgust was occasioned, and pernicious consequences might arise, both to the health of the citizens, and the public cisterns and pipes" Here was a monstre grievance, and most disinterestedly was it urged. Not for themselves alone were the memorialists concerned, their sympathies embraced the "cisterns and pipes." 340 ANCIENT CITY WELLS. Could either, albeit of mould so leaden, be expected passively to act as the harbourers, or guides of tar water, without "great disgust!" The overseer of the reservoir was denounced as a poisoner ; placards were posted on the building itself, bearing " Tar water sold here ! " No faith had the citizens in the doctrines of good Bishop Berkeley, who was at the trouble to write a treatise to prove that tar water was as sovereign a panacea as Parr's Life Pills are now attested to be. An explanation was demanded of the overseer. That he was sorely puzzled appears from the fact that he gave in a " long answer." When the cistern was nearly empty not a rent appeared, but when it was full there was a "continual dropping." Despairing of finding out the mystery, he did tar the bottom of the cistern. The worthy man ultimately discovered that it was the weight of the water, when the cistern was full, that set the rent a-gaping, which of course closed when the utensil was nearly empty ! The cistern was at length repaired without tar, and the citizens, cisterns, and pipes were satisfied ! So much for old wells, and for some of the old frets of our forefathers. What was once cause of irritation to them, is now a source of amusement to us. We, too, shall have our turn. Our ancestors, mayhap, will be avenged of our pleasantry at their expense in the jokes cracked by a future generation on the squabbles of our own day. THE FIRST OF APRIL 1813 WILL long be remembered as one of the most disastrous days of Bon-Accord, in consequence of the melancholy shipwreck of the Oscar on the fatal Greyhope, a rock at the Girdleness, situated a little to the south of the entrance of the harbour. For some time previous the weather had been remark- ably propitious, and everything was fraught with the promise of uninterrupted spring. Early on the morning of the ist of April the Oscar had left the harbour in company with four other whale-fishing vessels, and all were riding at anchor in a sea as smooth as glass, which proved but too deceitfully calm. About five o'clock in the morning, however, the sky began to lower, and exhibited to the expe- rienced eye of the seaman certain presages of impending storm. The Oscar accordingly weighed anchor and stood out to sea. Unfortunately she had not on board her full complement of crew, and was obliged to stand into the bay for the absent hands, who had been spending their time in all the reckless jollity in which the sailor delights to revel on the eve of departure on a long voyage. 342 THE FIRST OF APRIL 1813. By this time the storm of the morning had lulled a little, as if on purpose to facilitate the securing of its devoted victims. All the crew were safely shipped on board the Oscar, now far in-shore, amid a heavy sea, a stormy flood-tide setting in, and a fatal calm. Suddenly a hurricane burst from the north-east, accompanied with thick snow. The situation of the Oscar was now perilous in the extreme, and the spectators on shore trembled for her fate. About half-past eleven A.M., after drag- ging her anchor, she drove ashore on the rock called the Greyhope. Her destruction now appeared inevitable. A tremendous surf broke over her, ever and anon dashing her against the rock with such resistless force that the noise of the concus- sion was distinctly audible at a considerable dis- tance, striking terror and dismay into the crowd that covered the pier, in defiance of the violence of the tempest, which threatened destruction to all that opposed its career. A more heart-rending scene cannot well be conceived. Forty-four hapless individuals were perishing in sight of their nearest and dearest relatives and friends, who could only send them, across the raging deep, their heart-felt yet unavailing sympathy. Some of the crew at- tempted to form a bridge to the nearest rocks by cutting away the main-mast, but it unfortunately fell alongside the ship, instead of towards the shore as they had fondly anticipated. Soon after the fore THE FIRST OF APRIL 1813. 343 and mizen masts gave way, when many who had clung to them for a chance of safety were swept into the tumultuous waves. Every desperate effort of the sailors to save their lives was fruitless. All that now remained above water of the once trim Oscar was the forecastle, on which five men, one of them Captain Innes, were distinctly seen, making signals for that assistance which all longed to give, but found it impossible to afford. After clinging to the wreck for some time, they were at length compelled to share the fate of their unfor- tunate companions. Of the whole crew only the first mate and one of the seamen were, with the utmost difficulty, saved. The loss sustained by the owners was estimated at 10,000. The Oscar had been recently repaired, and was completely equipped for the voyage. This catastrophe excited the deepest sympathy for the surviving relatives of the sufferers, and the sum of 1200 and upwards was speedily raised and distributed among them, according to their various situations. The bodies of Captain Innes and thirty-seven of the crew were afterwards cast on shore ; and it was a melancholy sight to see the crowds of weep- ing relatives eagerly endeavouring, often with difficulty, to recognise the storm-disfigured counte- nances of the departed objects of their affection. In this sad employment they were much comforted 344 THE FIRST OF APRIL 1813. by the unremitting and unwearied kindness of the late worthy Dr. Cruden of Nigg, who was equally zealous in ministering to the temporal necessities of the wretched, and pouring the balm of spiritual consolation into the wounded soul. Soon after the complete destruction of the Oscar, the storm, which had raged with such un- expected violence, suddenly abated its fury, as if satisfied with having executed the mysterious behest of heaven. The sky resumed its wonted serenity, the wind was hushed to repose, and no vestige of the recent wrath of the elements re- mained, save the deep swell of the hollow-murmur- ing wave, and the desolation which the untimely visit of winter had left behind. Fair dawned the morning of that fatal day, Bright with false promise of returning spring, When o'er the wave they winged their joyous way, To spoil the icy ocean of its king. Light was the sailor's heart, as best beseems The heart that meets the terrors of the wave ; No idle fears, no sentimental dreams Be his whose pathway soon may prove his grave ! The sailor revels in the freshening gale, The sounding surge is music to the Tar, Else could he brace the tempest-tatter'd sail, Or brave such ocean-fields as Trafalgar ? Yet there is terror in that cloud that steals, Low, crouching, from the ocean's utmost verge ; Still seems the sea-fowl, as aloft it wheels, To scream the mariner's prophetic dirge. THE FIRST OF APRIL 1813. 345 Ah, were it only seeming/ for now forth From the dark citadel of cloud and storm Rush the dread legions of the ruthless north, Heaven's mystery of judgment to perform ! Bootless the cunning of the pilot's hand To baulk the fury of the raging blast ; Bootless the strife to reach or shun the strand, Yon rock proclaims the hour of safety past ! And must they yield, unaided, to their fate, Sweet home in sight, and all its nameless charms ! Despair usurp the too fond breasts where late, Heaved the deep tumult of true love's alarms ? Are prayers of kindred, friendship, woman's love, Lost 'mid the uproar of the maddening waters ? Is there no Father in the heavens above To soothe the sorrows of his sons and daughters ? There is : yet clouds and darkness oft surround His throne though radiant with eternal light ; Even though unsought, in mercy is he found, And love directs the terrors of his might ! Where erst were heard the timbrel and the dance, The voice of weeping steals upon the ear ! And thoughts of late departed joys enhance The grief that longs to share the lonely bier. The parent's house is childless in a day ; The child must learn to seek the " orphan's aid ; " The wife ! she now implores the " widow's stay ; " Oh ! may he cheer the more than widowed maid. Oft as the voices of the winds and waves Shall wildly mingle in unearthly glee, Some hearts will wander to the moundless graves Of those who sleep beneath the deep, deep sea. THE SICK CHAMBER. " It is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting." SOLOMON. SINCE better to the house of woe, Than that of feasting, ye may go ; Then, ponder well that sufferer's part, When aching head makes fainting heart ; When dearest boon he may obtain Is respite brief from tossing pain, And the couch where he doth languish Seems the chosen bed of anguish. E'en from the cheerful eye of day Despondingly he turns away ; And sounds, which joyous else appear, Strike doleful on his watchful ear Still listening to the plodding clock, And startled at the fancied knock ! Even in the passing wind Dreary omen he will find ; And should the voice of midnight hour Give warning from some churchyard tower Loud swelling on the fitful blast Despair propounds was that thy last ? 'Tis ciphered in the flickering taper, That life is but a fleeting vapour ; THE SICK CHAMBER. 347 There's that, in leech's guarded look, Few, from his lips, can calmly brook ! And then around come trooping fast The phantom memories of the past ; And, hovering around his bed, The sick man sees the long-lost dead With looks so sad so passionless, So shadowy all, so fashionless ! Ah ! then, how stricken conscience bleeds, At memory of wayward deeds ; Of many an hour to folly given, Despite a still forbearing Heaven ; Of time misspent of talent wasted Of pleasure's cup too deeply tasted Of grace despised neglected prayer ! Oh ! what a load of guilt is there ! Meanwhile, the pulse's fluttering play, Scarce warrants hope of added day, While muttering lip, and filming eye, Announce the time of farewell nigh, And words, which may not be repeated, Bespeak a brain too fiercely heated : The scarcely-breathing watcher's foot Falls softly as the snow-flake mute, For, in that chamber's gathering gloom Seems growing kindred with the tomb, And, brooding there, he well may ween A presence awful though unseen ! In such dark hour, from purpose fell ! Prevailing Spirit ! guard us well ; For, dread to all, howe'er they die, Is nature's parting agony ! Oh ! gently, in that hour of dread, THE SICK CHAMBER. Deal ye who tend the lone sick-bed ; The contrite tear be gently dried ; Be pity's dearest art still plied ; Still words of hope and peace be spoken, Still ministered some soothing token ; Perchance some old familiar flower Of youthful love's remembered bower ; There's solace in its balmy breath, For spirit drooping nigh to death, And hint of love without decay, Enshrined in one long passed away, (For seraphs linger not in clay !) Still o'er the sick devoutly bending, Affection's prayer with his lie blending, That, even at nature's parting hour, Be felt sweet mercy's purchased power ; That faith, the quenchless lamp of Heaven, Be to the pilgrim-spirit given, Sure guide along the shadowed way, Till mingling with eternal day ! TO MY FRIEND. AND have I found a friend tho' few there be Worthy that name my heart bestows on thee ? Tho' some might flutter in my brighter day, With its alas ! their flight they winged away ! At fortune's gloom, if friendship's show is flown, 1 Yet friendship's self in thee I call mine own ! Fain would my wish some meet return impart ! If thou wilt have it take my wounded heart ! Poor is the gift 'tis true ; tho' poor it be 'Twill boast a worth in being dear to thee ! And never, never may such heart be thine As needs the sympathy I crave for mine ! Still as these simple lines shall meet thine eye, Oh ! let them win the comment of a sigh For him who penned them, when to native dust Is given his fragile frame as soon it must ! Think that I loved thee ! if my spirit may When 'scaped the prison of this mortal clay, Breathe one fond wish let this an earnest be My fervent prayer shall oft be breathed for thee ! Nor deem my presence as for ever fled When low in grave is laid my weary head ! In pensive mood if thou shalt, haply, steal Where thou wilt need no marble to reveal 35 TO MY FRIEND. The lonely spot where unawakened lie The tongue's prompt greeting ! welcome of the eye ! The ready smile ! the look ! which only love Like thine might read ! all force of speech above ! Perchance even then my spirit shall be near, To thine ! be, therefore, checked the starting tear, Or if a single droplet needs must flow Bright let it fall ! nor dimmed by shade of woe ! My soul shall seek thee if it ever may ! Unseen companion of thy earthly way ! When fortune smiles, thy joy shall reach to me, If aught of gladness I may share with thee ! And if thou prove the lot of all that live, I'll soothe thy grief if aid be mine to give ! And when at last shall come the solemn hour When death asserts its universal power, And thou must pace, alone, its dreary vale O ! were it mine the very first to hail Thy stranger spirit with a brother's kiss A welcome denizen of realms of bliss ! MY GRAVE. FAR from the city's ceaseless hum, Hither let my relics come ; Lowly and lonely be my grave, Fast by this streamlet's oozing wave, Still to the gentle angler dear, And heaven's fair face reflecting clear. No rank luxuriance from the dead Draw the green turf above my head, But cowslips here and there be found, Sweet natives of the hallowed ground, Diffusing Nature's incense round ! Kindly sloping to the sun When his course is nearly run Let it catch his farewell beams, Brief and pale, as best beseems ; But let the melancholy yew (Still to the cemetery true) Defend it from his noontide ray Debarring visitant so gay ; And when the robin's fitful song Is hushed the darkling boughs among, 352 MY GRAVE. There let the spirit of the wind A heaven-reared tabernacle find To warble wild a vesper hymn, To soothe my shade at twilight dim ! Seldom let foot of man be there, Save bending towards the house of prayer Few human sounds disturb the calm, Save word of grace or solemn psalm ! Yet would I not my humble tomb, Should wear a deep forbidding gloom, As if there over brooded near, In fancy's ken, a thing of fear ; And, viewed with superstitious awe, Be duly shunned, and scarcely draw The sidelong glance of passer by, As haunt of sprite with blasting eye ; Or noted be by some sad token, Bearing a name in whispers spoken ! No ! still let thoughtful schoolboy stray Far from his giddy mates at play, My secret place of rest explore, There con the page of classic lore : Thither let hoary men of age Perform a pensive pilgrimage, And think, as o'er my turf they bend, It woos them to their welcome end : And let the woe-worn wandering one, Blind to the ray of reason's sun, Thither his weary way incline, There catch a gleam of light divine : But, 'Chiefly, let the friend sincere There drop a tributary "tear; MY GRA VE. There pause, in musing mood, and all Our bygone hours of bliss recall ; Delightful hours ! too fleetly flown ! By the heart's pulses only known ! 353 , . c Iufque& qu la"M6rt ttfoubie !>;Toy pouldrc eapouldretouriicr.is . ? University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY Return this material to the library from whicrut was borrowed. 2