Reminiscences of Scottish Life & Character Part 26

[119] A sort of dagger or hanger which seems to have been used both at meals as a knife and in broils--

"And _whingers_ now in friends.h.i.+p bare, The social meal to part and share, Had found a b.l.o.o.d.y sheath."

--_Lay of the Last Minstrel_.

[120] Thong.

[121] No lawsuit.

[122] Robbers.

[123] Rue, to repent.

[124] More.

[125] Maidens.

[126] Hares.

[127] Take after.

[128] Cuckoo.

[129] Note.

[130] Attired.

[131] Curried.

[132] Related.

[133] Outrun.

[134] Tune.

[135] Curtsied.

[136] Fallen.

[137] Surprise.

[138] Christmas.

[139] Pasch or Easter.

[140] Early.

[141] Severe.

[142] The proper orthography of this expression is deoch-an-doruis (or dorais). _Deoch_, a drink; _an_, of the; _doruis_ or _dorais_, possessive case of dorus or doras a door.

[143] Praise.

[144] Tears.

[145] Thatch.

[146] It has been suggested, and with much reason, that the reference is to a fly sticking on a wet or a newly painted wall; this is corroborated by the addition in Rob Roy, "When the dirt's dry, it will rub out,"

which seems to point out the meaning and derivation of the proverb.

[147] A young bullock.

[148] Saddle for supporting panniers.

[149] Vol. i. p. 134.

[150] Shy.

[151] Empty.

[152] Stoop down.

[153] Wave.

[154] The way.

[155] Fox.

[156] Trust to.

[157] Chirping.

[158] Even in Forfars.h.i.+re, where Carnegies abound, we had Craigo, Balnamoon, Pitarrow, etc.

[159] This custom is still in use in Galloway; and "Challoch,"

"Eschonchan," "Tonderghie," "Balsalloch," and "Drummorral," etc. etc., appear regularly at kirk and market.

CHAPTER THE SEVENTH.

ON SCOTTISH STORIES OF WIT AND HUMOUR.

The portion of our subject which we proposed under the head of "Reminiscences of Scottish Stories of Wit or Humour," yet remains to be considered. This is closely connected with the question of Scottish dialect and expressions; indeed, on some points hardly separable, as the wit, to a great extent, proceeds from the quaint and picturesque modes of expressing it. But here we are met by a difficulty. On high authority it has been declared that no such thing as wit exists amongst us. What has no existence can have no change. We cannot be said to have lost a quality which we never possessed. Many of my readers are no doubt familiar with what Sydney Smith declared on this point, and certainly on the question of wit he must be considered an authority. He used to say (I am almost ashamed to repeat it), "It requires a surgical operation to get a joke well into a Scotch understanding. Their only idea of wit, which prevails occasionally in the north, and which, under the name of WUT, is so infinitely distressing to people of good taste, is laughing immoderately at stated intervals." Strange language to use of a country which has produced Smollett, Burns, Scott, Galt, and Wilson--all remarkable for the humour diffused through their writings! Indeed, we may fairly ask, have they equals in this respect amongst English writers? Charles Lamb had the same notion, or, I should rather say, the same prejudice, about Scottish people not being accessible to wit; and he tells a story of what happened to himself, in corroboration of the opinion. He had been asked to a party, and one object of the invitation had been to meet a son of Burns. When he arrived, Mr. Burns had not made his appearance, and in the course of conversation regarding the family of the poet, Lamb, in his lack-a-daisical kind of manner, said, "I wish it had been the father instead of the son;" upon which four Scotsmen present with one voice exclaimed, "That's impossible, for _he's dead_[160]." Now, there will be dull men and matter-of-fact men everywhere, who do not take a joke, or enter into a jocular allusion; but surely, as a general remark, this is far from being a natural quality of our country. Sydney Smith and Charles Lamb say so. But, at the risk of being considered presumptuous, I will say I think them entirely mistaken. I should say that there was, on the contrary, a strong _connection_ between the Scottish temperament and, call it if you like, humour, if it is not wit. And what is the difference? My readers need not be afraid that they are to be led through a labyrinth of metaphysical distinctions between wit and humour. I have read Dr.

Campbell's dissertation on the difference, in his Philosophy of Rhetoric; I have read Sydney Smith's own two lectures; but I confess I am not much the wiser. Professors of rhetoric, no doubt, must have such discussions; but when you wish to be amused by the thing itself, it is somewhat disappointing to be presented with metaphysical a.n.a.lysis. It is like inst.i.tuting an examination of the gla.s.s and cork of a champagne bottle, and a chemical testing of the wine. In the very process the volatile and sparkling draught which was to delight the palate has become like ditch water, vapid and dead. What I mean is, that, call it wit or humour, or what you please, there is a school of Scottish pleasantry, amusing and characteristic beyond all other. Don't think of _a.n.a.lysing_ its nature, or the qualities of which it is composed; enjoy its quaint and amusing flow of oddity and fun; as we may, for instance, suppose it to have flowed on that eventful night so joyously described by Burns:--

"The souter tauld his queerest stories, The landlord's laugh was ready chorus."

Or we may think of the delight it gave the good Mr. Balwhidder, when he tells, in his Annals of the Parish, of some such story, that it was a "jocosity that was just a kittle to hear." When I speak of changes in such Scottish humour which have taken place, I refer to a particular sort of humour, and I speak of the sort of feeling that belongs to Scottish pleasantry,--which is sly, and cheery, and pawky. It is undoubtedly a humour that depends a good deal upon the vehicle in which the story is conveyed. If, as we have said, our quaint dialect is pa.s.sing away, and our national eccentric points of character, we must expect to find much of the peculiar humour allied with them to have pa.s.sed away also. In other departments of wit and repartee, and acute hits at men and things, Scotsmen (whatever Sydney Smith may have said to the contrary) are equal to their neighbours, and, so far as I know, may have gained rather than lost. But this peculiar humour of which I now speak has not, in our day, the scope and development which were permitted to it by the former generation. Where the tendency exists, the exercise of it is kept down by the usages and feelings of society. For examples of it (in its full force at any rate) we must go back to a race who are departed. One remark, however, has occurred to me in regard to the specimens we have of this kind of humour--viz. that they do not always proceed from the personal wit or cleverness of any of the individuals concerned in them. The amus.e.m.e.nt comes from the circ.u.mstances, from the concurrence or combination of the ideas, and in many cases from the mere expressions which describe the facts. The humour of the narrative is unquestionable, and yet no one has tried to be humorous. In short, it is the _Scottishness_ that gives the zest. The same ideas differently expounded might have no point at all. There is, for example, something highly original in the notions of celestial mechanics entertained by an honest Scottish Fife la.s.s regarding the theory of comets. Having occasion to go out after dark, and having observed the brilliant comet then visible (1858), she ran in with breathless haste to the house, calling on her fellow-servants to "Come oot and see a new star that hasna got its tail cutt.i.t aff yet!"