SHEPHERD.

Na-no on the streets. Folk keepit shoalin' past me-me in ae current o' flesh, and them in anither-without a single ee ever seemin' to see me-a' een lookin' stracht forrit-a' faces in full front-sae that I coudna help askin' mysell-Will a' this break up-is it a' but the maist wonderfu' o' dreams?

But in the Park?

BULLER.

SHEPHERD.

Aye! that was a different story-I cam to my seven senses on Sunday in the Park-and I had need o' them a'-for gif I glowered, they glowered -and wherever I went, I cou'dna but see that I was the centre

TICKLER.

"The cynosure of neighbouring eyes."

SHEPHERD.

O man! wheesht. The centre-the navel o' the great wheel that keepit 'circumvolvin' round, while rays, like spokes, innumerable frae leddies' een, shot towards me frae the circumference, and had na my heart been pierced, it wud hae been no o' wud but o' stane.

O thou Sabbath-breaker!

NORTH.

SHEPHERD.

That thocht sadden'd me, but I shook it aff, and I houp I may be forgiven, for it wasna my ain fawte, but the fawte o' that Lord that munted me on his ain charger, and wou'd shew me-whether I wou'd or no-in the Dress-Rings.

TICKLER.

And how were you dressed, James ?

SHEPHERD.

Wiser-like than you in your ordinar-just in the Sabbath claes I gang in to Yarrow kirk.

NORTH.

Simple son of genius! Buller, is he not a jewel?

He is.

BULLER.

SHEPHERD.

Fie lads-think shame o' yoursells-for I ken that ahint ma back you ca' me a rouch diamond.

NORTH.

But the setting, my dear James! How farther were you set?

SHEPHERD.

I had na on the blue bannet-for I had nae wush to be singular, sir-but the plaid was atowre ma shoulders

NORTH.

And across your manly breast, my Shepherd, which must have felt then and there, as here and now, entitled to beat with the pride of conscious genius and worth.

SHEPHERD.

I shall na say that I was na proud, but I shall say that I was happy; for the Englishers I hae ever held to be the noblest race o' leevin' men accept the Scotch-and forbye that, sirs, a poet is nae mair a poet in his ain kintra than a prophet a prophet; but yonner my inspiration was acknowledged, and I thocht mair o' mysell as the owther o' the Queen's Wake, five hunder miles awa frae the Forest, than I ever had ony visible reason to do sae, in the city owre which Mary Stuart ance rang, and in the very shadow o' Holyrood.

I eclipsed nane. There's nae eclipsin' yonner-for the heaven was a' shinin' wi' many thousand stars. But the sugh went that the Ettrick Shepherd was in the Park-the Shepherd o' the Wake, and the Pilgrims, and Kilmeny

And the Noctes

NORTH.

SHEPHERD.

Aye, o' the Noctes-and what were they ever, or wud they ever again hae been, withouten your ain auld Shepherd?

NORTH.

Dark-dark-irrecoverable dark!

SHEPHERD.

Your haun. Thousans o' trees were there-but a' I kent o' them, as they gaed gliding greenly by, was that they were beautifu'-as for the equipages, they seemed a' ae equipage—

Your cortège.

TICKLER.

SHEPHERD.

Wheesht-wheesht-O man, wunna ye wheesht !-Representin'-containin' a' the wealth, health, rank, beauty, grace, genius, virtue o' England

Virtue !

TICKLER.

SHEPHERD.

Yes-Virtue. Their een were like the een o' angels, and if virtue was na smiling yonner, then 'twould be vain to look for her on this side o' heaven.

NORTH.

I fear, my dearest Shepherd, that you forgot the Flowers of the Forest.

SHEPHERD.

Clean. And what for no? Was na I a stranger in Lunnon? and wou'd I alloo fancy to flee awa' wi' me out the gates o' Paradise? Na-she cou'd na hae dune that, had she striven to harl me by the hair o' the head. Oh, sir! sufficient for the hour was the beauty thereof-sowle and senses were a' absorbed in what I saw-and I became

SHEPHERD.

Oh, sir! the leddies yonner-it maun be confessed-stoop their heads mair elegantly-mair gracefully-mair royally far-than the leddies in Embro!

TICKLER.

Indeed! I should have thought that impossible.

SHEPHERD.

Wi' a mair enchantin' waive o' their arms do they bless ye, as they pass by, wi' a kiss o' licht frae the white saft pawms o' their hauns, that micht amaist mak the sad lily herself begin to grow ashamed o' her leaves!Can it be possible, sir, think ye, that yon gleams are a' o' the real bare skin, and no kid gloves? Yet kids they could na be-for I observed them drawin' them off, as I cam near-and snawy as they were, the slichtest tinge o' pink served to shaw what pure blood was in their veins; but 'twas on their faces you could see the circulation frae their hearts, for there danced the sunshine on roses, and Beauty in its perfection was Joy and Love.

NORTH.

Twenty years ago, my dear Shepherd, and what would have become of your heart?

VOL XXXVI. NO. CCXXIV.

I

SHEPHERD.

Mr North, you dinna need to be tauld that the heart o' every humanaye, o' every leevin thing's a mystery-and a great and afttimes a sair mystery to me has been mine; but at nae time o' life wou'd I hae felt muckle itherwise amang a' that fascination than I did then-for the sense o' my ain condition-o' my ain lot-has aye lain upon me-and held ma speerit doun, true to the cares and duties o' the sphere in which it pleased Providence that I should be born.

NORTH.

You know, my dear James, that I was not serious.

SHEPHERD.

I kent that, my dear sir-for ye hae the insicht. No that seldom the sense o' what I said the noo, has been sae heavy that I was like to fent in the weary wilderness; at ither times, and aftener far, though it was like a pack on my shouthers on a hilly road, I hae carried it not only without complainin', but contented, and wi' a supporting gratitude; while aftenest o' a'-and you'll, sir, no think that strange-it has been to me even like wings on which I walked alang the green braes in the dewy mornin', wi' steps o' air, and envied not leevin cretur in a' the wide warld. And when something within me whuspered that I had genie, then the wings o' themselves unfaulded, and I thocht, without leavin' or losin' sicht altogether o' the Forest, that I sailed awa into still lovelier launs-intil Fairylaun itself— sir-for 'twas there I met Kilmeny-and asked the bonny doo where she had cum frae, and where she was gaun-and if she were to return evermair-and she confided a' her secrets to the Shepherd-and

NORTH.

The Shepherd sung of her "one song that will not die."

SHEPHERD.

That was kind in you, my revered sir, to help me out. Gin conversation had nae ither interruptions than o' that sort, friends micht keep talkin' on a' nicht without ever noticin' the sinkin' o' the cawnles or the risin' o' the stars.

Hem !

TICKLER.

SHEPHERD.

The Forest for me after a'! Sae would it hae been, sir, even had I been ca'd up to Lunnon in my youth or prime. Out o' utter but no lang forgetfulness it would hae risen up, stretchin' itsell out in a' its length and breadth, wi' a' its lochs and mountains, and hills and streams-St Mary's and the Yarrow, the dearest o' them a'-and wafted me alang wi' it, far aff and awa' frae Lunnon, like a man in a warld o' his ain, swoomin' northward through the air, wi' motion true to that ae airt, and no deviatin' for sake o' the brichtest southern star.

Most beautiful.

BULLER.

SHEPHERD.

If it wou'd hae been sae even then, Mr Buller, hoo much mair maun it hae been sae, but some three simmers back, when my hair, though a gae dour broon, was yieldin' to the grey? You was never at Mount-Benger, sir, nor Altrive, and the mair's the pity, for happy should we a' be to see sic a fine, free, freenly fallow-and o' sic bricht pairts-though the weans micht na just at first follow your English

BULLER.

For their sakes, my dear Shepherd-forgive my familiarity-I should learn their own Doric in a day.

SHEPHERD.

That you wud, my dear Mr Buller; and think na ye, gin if I ever, for a flaff, in the Park, forgot my ain cozey beild, that the thocht on't cam na back on my heart-aye, the verra sicht o't afore my een-dearer than ever for sake o' the wee bodies speerin' at their mother when father was comin' hame-and for sake o' her, who, for my sake, micht at that moment be lettin' drap a kiss on their heads.

TICKLER.

Now that we have seen the Shepherd in the Park, pray, James, exhibit yourself at the Play.

SHEPHERD.

The last exhibition you made o' yoursell, Mr Tickler, at the Play, as you ca't-meanin', I presume, in the Playhouse-was no quite sae creditable as your freens wud hae wished-sittin' in ane o' the upper boxes wi' a pented wax-doll-no to ca' them waur-on ilka haun

I never answer that monosyllable-but canna help followin' it up, on the present occasion, wi' an apogthegm; to wit, that a man's morals may be judged by his mainners. But I tell you, Mr North, and you, Mr Buller, that I was in ane of the houses-ance, and but ance; I gaed there out o' regard to some freens, and I ever after staid awa' out o' regard to mysellfor o' a' the sichts that ever met my een, there never was the like o' yon; and I wonder hoo men-folk and women-folk, sittin' side by side, could thole't in a public theatre. The performance was queer by name, and queer by nature-the first I wasna able to remember, and the second I shall never be able to forget. But will ye believe me when I tell you, that on the verra middle o' the stage, gaen well back to be sure, but only sae as to saften them in the distance, visible to the haill audience were a bevy o' naked lasses, a' plowterin' in a bath, wi' the water no up to their waists!

Shocking! shocking! shocking!

OMNES.

SHEPHERD.

Dinna ye believe't? I grant it's a gay lee-like story, but it's as sure's death. They micht hae some sort o' cleedin on, but gin they had, it was no visible to the naked ee, and I cou'd na for shame ask the len' o' an operaglass fra an auld gentleman ahint me, who was kecklin' like a gouty gander across a burn to a gang o' goslings. I perceived mysell getting red in the face-for though no blate, I houp I hae a' life-lang had a sense o' decency; and the young leddy at my side began fannin' me wi' her fan. But I pretended to be readin' the bill o' the play-only noo and then takin' a peep wi' the tail o' my ee-but oh, sirs! yon was a great shame; and though I'm again' a' sorts o' tyranny, or intermeddling wi' the liberty o' the soobject, I am clear for mainteening, were it even by force o' law, the decency of a' public entertainments. I cou'd na help lookin' roun' for some member o' the Society for the Suppression o' Vice.

TICKLER.

Some folks are so very inflammable.

SHEPHERD.

I turned roun' upon the fourscore-and-twa fule ahint me, and ask't the odious dotard if it was na maist laithsome to see him hotchin' on his seat, and to hear him mumplin in the mouth at sic a sicht, in the same box wi' a grown lassie that maun hae been at least his great granddaughter? But the auld toothless satyr was owre deaf to hear me, although wi' help o' ever so mony lenses-baith clarifiers and multipliers-he had sic vision o' the hawrem as made a monster o' him, sufficient-but for the perversion o' public taste and feeling-to hae brought on his bald head the derision, disgust, and horror o' a full house.

Poo-poo-whew!

TICKLER.

SHEPHERD.

That's the way o't. To the pure a' things are pure-and on the faith o' a sayin' in scriptur'-ane o' the haliest ever inspired-do people justify indecency after indecency-till-where, may I ask you, Mr Tickler, is it pro posed there shall be à stop?

I have been at Peebles.

TICKLER.

SHEPHERD.

I ken what you mean. You hae seen a dizzen hizzies on the banks o' the Tweed trampin' claes in boynes, wi' their ain weel-tucked up, and frae ane o' the pleasantest sichts o' the usefullest o' employments, in the pure air and sunshine-pursued wi' "weel-timed daffin," and the industrious merriment of happy hearts-you wou'd reason by a fawse analogy in favour o' the exposure o' weelnigh a' they hae got to expose, o' a gang o' meretrishus limmers-for they're no respectable actresses yon-like them that it's a delicht to see in Rosalind or Beatrice or Perditta-sic as Miss Jarman and Miss Tree-female characters that micht be witnessed even by ministers —but hired at laigh wages-sae might it seem-the grand feck o' them aff the verra streets-to pander to the diseased appeteets o' a luxurious or worn-out generation-or would Lord Grey, think ye sirs, ca't-the Speerit o' the Age?

Bravo-bravo-bravo!

NORTH AND BULLER.

NORTH.

Yet in the same city, and at the same season, were represented to agitated or deeply interested audiences such Fair Humanities as my friend Sheridan Knowles's heart awakens before his fancy, and his genius gives ideal being, to be realized before our delighted eyes by such sweet representatives as those you have now named, and who carry into their characters on the stage the same qualities that make them all that is good and amiable in private life!

BULLER.

Perhaps, Mr Hogg, you have somewhat overdrawn-though not overcoloured the picture. Yet knowing to what pitch public representations were brought in Rome

But I canna-and sae muckle the better-for nae man, I suspeck, was ever improved by satire that painted the vices it denounced; but many have been corrupted by the physical display, who wanted wisdom or will to draw the moral. Mind ye, sirs, my indignation was not prurient-and were ony coof to ca' it coorse, he waud only shew that he kent na the dif ference atween hypocritical sympathy with grossness affectin' cynical contempt, and genuine disgust giving vent in plain language to the feelings

of a man.

James-your hand.

TICKLER.

SHEPHERD.

There. Dog on't, you'll bring bluid!

TICKLER.

These boys flatter you, James-but that I never do

SHEPHERD.

You err, sir, rather in the opposite direction-but atween the twa it'ill be feenally found about richt. Oranges, aipples, grapes, and ither frute, are dootless unco refreshin'; but in their case" increase o' appeteet grows on what it feeds on" far mair surely than in Mrs Hamlet's-sae may I ask you, sir, to ring the siller bell for anither dessert ?

NORTH.

You will find one behind that stand of Japponicas, James.

[The Shepherd wheels round the reserve from behind the Japponica stand -and at the same time enter Peter with chasse-caffee.

NORTH.

What is your opinion, my dear Shepherd, o' these bills for the better observance of the Sabbath?