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68

AN ASYLUM FOR FALLEN ROYALTY.

pairt, I am no just prepared to gang the length o' that apothegm. I fear not a few respectable people have shown ower muckle favour to this new French revolution,—and you and me-wise as we are, and wise as the world thinks us— maunna exclude frae the ranks o' respectability a' folk that are sae unfortunate as no to be o' our way o' thinkin.

North. I sit corrected, my dear James. I am no bigot.
Shepherd. Arena ye?

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North. Sir Walter's appeal to the people of Edinburgh, in behalf of the " grey discrowned head of the old ex-King was like himself, generous and gentlemanly; but methinks he must have but a poor opinion of "mine own romantic town," else had he never doubted that they would sympathise with Fallen Royalty seeking an asylum in Holyrood. Sir Walter reminds us that the highest authority "pronounced us to be a nation of gentlemen!" Let us then behave towards him who was once Charles the Tenth of France, in a way worthy the character bestowed on us by him who was once George the Fourth of England.

Shepherd. Is that his argument? 'Tis but a puir ane.

North. But so so-no great shakes. But I say, James, that we are not, never were, and I hope never will be, a nation of Gentlemen. And you will allow, whatever Sir Walter may do, that I am a higher than "the highest authority" on the character of our countrymen, and that here, George Guelph must yield to Christopher North.

Shepherd. Oh! ye radical!

North. George the Fourth-heaven rest his soul! was the "First Gentleman in Europe," nor do I know who is his successor, whether king or subject, commoner or peer. But

Shepherd. I can understaun' a man's being the First Fiddle in Europe, but not the First Gentleman; for equality seems to me-but to be sure I'm but a puir silly shepherd—to be necessarily involved somehow or ither in our idea o' a Gentleman, whereas a' competition in accomplishments and manners is out o' the question between subject and king. It might aiblins be mair correct to say that he was the First Gentleman amang the Kings o' Europe.

North. Excellent, James; George the Fourth saw little either of Scotland or Scotchmen; William the Fourth, I hope, will

WILLIAM IV.-CHARLES X.

69

see more; and as he, thank God, is not the First Gentleman in Europe-very far from it indeed, but I hope something many million times better, a Patriot King-he will be delighted to find that so far from being a Nation of Gentlemen, we are, take us on the whole, and on working week-days, for in our Sunday's best we do look very genteel, about as coarse, clownish, commonplace, vulgar, and raw-boned a nation as ever in loyalty encompassed, as with a wall of brass, iron, and fire, a hereditary throne.

Shepherd. Auld Charlie 'ill be treated wi' pity and respeck -nae fear o' that-as lang's he sojourns amang us in Holyrood. There's something sacred in a' sorts o' sorrow-be it o' the great or the sma'—but imagination, unrebuked either by reason or the heart, is mair profundly stooned1 by the misfortunes o' those who have fallen frae a high estate; and och! what nasty politics that could abuse Pity for openin the door o'a Sanctuary, let his errors hae been what they may, to a fugitive and a suppliant King!

North. It was in the exaltation of victory, and indignation at crime, that the Editor of the Sun newspaper, for example, James a scholar and a gentleman-used language too, too strong respecting the punishment due to Charles on his fall. A friend of ours rebuked him in Maga; but who always speaks wisely? Surely not I, any more than that worthy Editor; and I doubt not that when he hears that the old man is again in Holyrood, he will feel that, without any compromise of principle, he may say, "Peace be with him in his retreat!"

Shepherd. And what wad ye think o' askin him and his suit some nicht to a Noctes Ambrosianæ ? I'm perfeckly serious in sayin that we maun ask him; and I'm as perfeckly serious in saying that I'm sure that he'll come. Why no him as weel

as

North. Silence, James, silence-the time has not yet come for divulging that secret.

Shepherd. -Why no him as weel as his LATE MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTY GEORGE THE FOURTH ?

North (starting up). Gurney, expunge!

Shepherd (starting up). Gurney, restore! O North, I think I see him pechin incog. up the brae o' Gabriel's Road, atween the oxters o' us twa-Tickler acting as guide and pioneer

1 Stooned-pained.

70

GEORGE IV. AT AMBROSE'S.-MOORE'S BYRON.

wi' that wee shauchly body the Marquis o' Winchester, and that great big muckle John Bull, Sir William Curtis—and a bit anonymous cretur belonging to the nobility in the rear-a' sax o' us, such was the royal pleasure, in kilts—and hoo Awmrose took us for a deputation o' the Celtic Society, and persisted, a' the nicht through, in ca'in the King, Francis Maximus Macnab, him that wrote The Universe!1 O but it was a gran' ploy !2 and may we soon see sic anither in the Saloon!

North. Well, well, James-let your daft nonsense go forth to the world. Nobody will credit it.

Shepherd. Mony a lee-lookin tale's true, howsomever, and that amang the number. But let's change the subject.—When think ye, sir, is Mr Muir's second volumm o' Lord Byron's Life comin out? You maun review it in a splendid style. What for didna ye notice the first volumm?

North. What the devil do you mean, you Incubus? Did I not write two articles on it, each thirty pages long,3—full of the

Shepherd. If I read them at the time, I hae clean forgotten them,―ane seldom remembers what he reads in a maggazin.

North. If he does not, then one seldom remembers what he reads anywhere else, James. True, that the wit and wisdom of one month succeeding the wit and wisdom of another in endless succession, mankind must often forget when and where, and from what source, they have derived such infinite amusement and instruction. But the amusement and instruction themselves do not perish on that account, but go into a million treasuries. People are manifestly growing wiser and better every day; and I humbly confess that I think myself one of the great instruments in the hands of Providence, of the amelioration of the human race. I am not dead to the voice of fame, but believe me that my chief, if not sole object in writing for Maga, is the diffusion of knowledge, virtue, and happiness all over the world. What is it to me if the names of my articles are often forgotten, not by a thankless but a restless generation, too much agog after novelties, and too much enamoured of change? The contents of any one of my good

1 Francis Maximus Macnab was the author of an insane production entitled The Theory of the Universe.

2 Ploy-a harmless frolic, properly of a social kind.

3 In Blackwood's Magazine, Nos. CLXIII., CLXIV.

NORTH'S ARTICLES.

71

articles cannot possibly be forgotten by all the thousands who have told me that they once delighted in them,-some fair or bright image-some tender or pure feeling-some high or solemn thought must survive,-and enough for me, Jamesif in hours of gay or serious memories, some mirthful or melancholy emanation from my mind be restored to being, even though the dreamer knows not that it was mine,—but believes it to have arisen then for the first time in his own imagination. Did I choose to write books, I believe they would find readers. But a book is a formal concern,—and to read it one must shut himself up for hours from society, and sit down to what may indeed be a pleasant task,-but still it is a task,--and in the most interesting volume that ever was written, alas! there are many yawns. But a good article-such as many of mine that shall be nameless-may be read from beginning to end under the alternate influence of smiles and tears;-and what if it be laid aside, and perhaps never meets more the fair face that bedewed or illumined it ?—yet methinks, James, that the maiden who walks along the spring braes is the better and the happier of the sights, scents, and sounds she enjoys there, though in a month she remembers not the primrose-bank, on which, cheered by the skylark's song, she sat and smiled to see her long dishevelled tresses reflected in the Fairy's Pool.

Shepherd. That's no unbonny.

North. I believe that all my words are not wasted, each succeeding month, on the idle air. Some simple melodies, at least, if no solemn harmonies, are sometimes heard, mayhap from my lyre, floating along the lonely valleys, and the cheerful villages, and even not undistinguishable amid the din of towns and cities. What if, once heard, they are heard no more? They may have touched a string, a chord, James, in some innocent, simple, but not unthoughtful heart; and that string, that chord, James, as well thou knowest, for thou art one of nature's own poets,—I but a proser—and an old greyhaired proser too,-may thenceforth of itself "warble melody," while, if untouched by me or you, or other lovers of their kind, it might have lain mute for ever! If so, verily I have had my reward.

Shepherd. What for do you never try to write verses, sir? Ca' and they'll come.

North. An old poet is an old fool, James.

72

KENNEDY.-AIRD.-GALT'S LIFE OF BYRON.

Shepherd. But then you see, sir, you're sic a fule already in sae mony things, that the world 'ill no think ae grain the waur o' you gin you'll play the fule in that too. Be a poet, sir, and fling yoursel for food to the hungry critics, for they're in a state o' starvation, and, for want o' something to devoor, wull sune a' dee o' hunger and thrust.

North. There, James, is an exceedingly graceful, elegant, and pathetic little poem, "The Arrow and the Rose."

Shepherd. What is't about, and wha's the Owther?

North. Mr William Kennedy,' and the subject is the story of the loves of Henry of Navarre, when Prince of Béarn, and Fleurette, the gardener's daughter-a story traditional in Gascony, and preserved by M. de Jouy.

Shepherd. Wi' your leave, I'll put it in my pouch.

North. "The Captive of Fez," James, is a powerful performance. The versification often reminds one of Dryden and Byron-strong passion pervades the tale—and the descriptions of scenery are at once poetical and picturesque. But I must review it one of these days-and a few magnificent extracts will show that Mr Aird2 is a man of true genius.

Shepherd. He is that, sir-and I ken few men that impresses you in conversation wi' a higher opinion o' their powers than Mr Aird. Sometimes I hae considerable diffeeculty in followin him-for he taks awfu' loups frae premise to conclusion, clearin chasms dizzy to look doun on- and aften annunces as self-evident truths, positions that appear to me unco problematical. But he does, at times, flash fine fancies, half out o' his lips, and half out o' his een; and afore I kent he wrote verses, I saw he was a poet.

North. He's a man of strong intellect and strong imagination-and his mind dwells in a lofty sphere.

3

Shepherd. Hae you read Byron's Life o' Galt, sir?

North. I have, James. His lordship used John somewhat scurvily on one or two occasions-but our friend pays

1 Some time private secretary to the Earl of Durham in Canada, and afterwards British Consul for Texas, of which State he wrote an account.

2 Editor of the Dumfries Herald, and author of Religious Characteristics, also of a Memoir of D. M. Moir. His Poetical Works were published by Messrs Blackwood in 1848.

3 A misnomer (not unapt) for Galt's Life of Byron. John Galt, author of The Annals of the Parish, The Ayrshire Legatees, The Entail, &c., was born in 1779, and died in 1839.

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