SOME years have now
elapsed since I commenced recording REMINISCENCES OF SCOTTISH LIFE AND
CHARACTER. The first edition of the work was published in 1857, and
consisted entirely of personal recollections. Since then it has
been gradually increasing, and I now write a preface for the fourteenth
edition. Ever since the work passed the ninth edition, I had been most
anxious to put it into the hands of a larger class of readers, to whom
hitherto the price had offered an obstacle in their possessing it. I was
quite aware that many of the most racy anecdotes of the collection came
from the Scottish peasantry, and that the peculiar features of that
humour which it is the purpose of the book to illustrate still linger in
various parts of the country amongst the older occupants of Scotland’s
lowly dwellings. I was desirous, therefore, before I finally closed my
connection with the work, to bring out what might fairly be called a
PEOPLE’S EDITION—an edition which, from, its price, might be within
reach of all classes of my countrymen, and which might form a standing
portion of every Scottish cottar’s simple library. In this design I
have been most. kindly and cordially seconded by my valued friends the
Publishers, who brought out in a cheap form the tenth, eleventh,
twelfth, and thirteenth editions of the work.
One most agreeable
circumstance connected with this publication I have already referred to
in the introductory chapter, and that is the general and sympathetic
communications I have received from Scotchmen, I may literally say, in
all quarters of the world, sometimes communicating very good
examples of Scottish humour, and always expressing their great pleasure
in reading, when in distant lands and foreign scenes, anecdotes which
reminded them of Scotland and of their ain days of "auld lang syne."
I am, on continued
observation, only the more fully persuaded that the characteristic
peculiarities of our Scottish people are indicated in a very marked
manner by our Scottish anecdotes. I have been anxious that specimens of
them should be preserved at this time, as it seems evident that, except
they are so preserved, in a few years’ time they will have become
obsolete. It is to anecdotes which bear upon this question, therefore,
that I have directed my attention, and for many such stories I am
indebted to the kind interest of correspondents. Several stories which
have been sent I have been obliged to omit. They were very pointed and,
very, characteristic, but were not suitable for publication, although in
many cases I believe the offence was more in the expression than the
sentiment. I might from such communications have greatly increased the
size of the volume, but I preferred making a selection of those that
were truly characteristic and most direct to the point. And of these I
have some more recent communications which, without disturbing the order
of the text, I would now preserve by recording them in this preface. For
instance, I think our national jealousy of Ritualism furnishes a very
characteristic anecdote: A worthy U.P. minister, having received a
present of a preaching-gown, considered himself bound to make use of it
in divine service, although it was a novelty in the congregation. An
old-fashioned lady, who looked with suspicion on this innovation, began
to catechise the minister upon his proceedings, and opened the question
cautiously. "Weel, sir, ye hae preached in a gown; div ye ken if
Paul ever preached in a gown?" "‘Deed, Janet," the
minister replied, "I wad ask, do ye ken gin Paul preached in
his breeks?" She was taken aback, and acknowledged "She could
not say." "Weel, I suppose ye wadna hae me to preach without
my breeks."
I have heard of a very
matter-of-fact view of a remarkable contingency as it had been proposed
to one of the older race of Forfarshire matrons. Her nephew had been
annoyed by the readiness with which the old lady had always admitted
strangers into her pew at church, and broke out petulantly with the
exclamation, "Indeed, aunt, I think you would let the devil into
your pew if he were to offer himself! "And what for no’,"
was the quiet answer, "gin only he’d
behave himsel’."
There is a quiet mode of
turning the tables upon an inquirer or complainant which I have noticed
as characteristic of our countrymen which it is impossible to illustrate
except by example. Take this account, which I have received of a
well-authenticated case very much in point: A gentleman had sent for the
village barber, in extremely hot weather, that he might be shaved by
him. He soon perceived that the man was much the worse of drink, as he
had, in fact, cut the skin two or three times during the tonsorial
operation. He desired to notice this in as delicate a manner as
possible, and suggested to the operator, "I think, my friend, the
hot weather has made your hand unsteady." He very quietly replied,
"Na, sir; it’s no’ that sae muckle as that the heat has made your
skin some tender."
The matter-of-fact
reception of a sarcastic injunction given by the lady of the house to a
servant-girl in the same family is quite delightful. She had a very
delicate and favourite piece of china which she put into the girl’s
hands to be washed, adding bitterly, as a sure mode of impressing
the necessity of carefulness, "And when you wash it, be sure to
break it all in pieces." The girl accordingly brought back the
china, and produced it triumphantly, washed and broken, with the
address, "I washt the cheena, mem, but I dinna ken whether the
pieces are sma’ eneuch."
An old servant’s
reproach of his horses, as joining in the accusations of his
enemies against him, was very rich and naïve. I had the story from
persons who knew the family in which the complainant was. The two Misses
—— kept a carriage, of which they kindly allowed friends to have the
use. Charges had lately been carried to his mistresses militating
against the sobriety of their old servant, and it was especially
insinuated that one public-house he never passed without a glass, all
which he specially denied. The Misses ——had sent the carriage to
fetch some friends who, in coming to the house, had to pass the
public-house in question. Unfortunately, instead of driving straight
past, the horses quietly, and in spite of Donald’s remonstrances, drew
up to the door as if too well accustomed to the process. Donald urged
them on the way with whip and voice, bitterly accusing the poor animals
of betraying him, "Get on, ye leein’ beasts."
The incongruous
application of the term "honest" to a woman convicted of
theft, mentioned at page 197, is far surpassed by an application of the
term, as told me by a Roman Catholic clergyman. Conversation turning
upon the excuses of Satanic influence often made by persons in
palliation of faults for which they were only themselves answerable, a
humorist quietly observed, "Indeed, the deil, honest man, has had
owre mony things laid to his charge."
There is a shrewd answer
given to a traveller who had expressed his admiration of the number of
churches in a town through which they were travelling as sure indication
of an abundant prevalence of religious feeling. The answer was very
significant of the state of ecclesiastical matters amongst us. The
person addressed quietly said, "I’m nae just sae sure o’ that.
Kirks may be whiles built out o’ curstness," showing that he had
remarked how the multiplication of churches was not always due to zeal
for extending the field of the Christian ministry, or for multiplying
means of grace through the land, but that additional churches were
required on account of splits or divisions amongst members of various
congregations. His observation implied that "curstness" (or
crabbed-ness) of man’s nature, or, in short, other motives than piety,
might cause churches to be built. This sentiment was stated in a
bolder and, I should hope, in an exaggerated form at a meeting of
ploughmen, of which I read an account, lately held at Ratho upon quite a
different question from church-building. One of the speakers commenced
his address by stating that he had heard his "mither" give
forth the sentiment, "The
mair kirks the mair sin."
At page 237 is an
anecdote of a Fife girl’s astronomical theory, when she saw the comet,
that it was a "star afore its tail had been cuttit aff." On
the evening of the late magnificent display of meteorolites, or falling
stars, an honest man at Leith, who had been very attentively observing
them, reminded his hearers that they could nae expec’ mony stars in
the heavens now —sae mony had fa’en out!" And as next night was
a peculiarly dark one, the honest man felt quite sure that many of the
stars had ultimately gone from the firmament and disappeared for ever.
At pages 178, etc.,
frequent mention is made of a class of old ladies, generally residing in
small towns, who were peculiarly Scotch, and who retained till
within the memory of many now living the special characteristics I have
referred to. Owing to local connection, I brought forward those chiefly
who lived in Montrose and the neighbourhood. But the race is extinct;
you might as well look for hoops and farthingales in society as for such
characters now. You can scarcely imagine an old lady, however quaint,
now making use of some of the expressions recorded in the text, or
saying, for the purpose of breaking up a card-party of which she was
tired, from holding bad cards, "We’ll stop now, bairns, I’m no’
enterteened," or urging more haste in going to church, on the plea,
"Come awa’, or I’ll be ower late for the ‘wicked man.’"
From anecdotes of
the pulpit in the following pages it will be seen how much more personal
the communication between the preacher and his hearers used to be in
past times. Let me conclude my remarks for this preface with an account
I have received of a Highland minister who used this privilege in a very
sly or pawky manner. He had preached a very strong sermon against
the sin of drunkenness, and earnestly warned his hearers not to indulge
in too frequent use of the bottle. He then concluded, "We’ll no’
mak’ this discoorse owre personal; but if a short, bald-headed laird
sittin’ in the corner of the east gallery pew tak’s it to himsel’
I canna help it." |