246 NIMROD'S NORTHERN TOUR. 



ways," observed his lordship; *' what do you mean by winning ways?" 

 *' Why please you, my lord," resumed Jack, *' the captain comes along- 

 side me, on the quay, slaps me on the back, and says— What ! Jack — 



you d — d ill-looking, blear-eyed, squinting • •, ar'nt you a going 



to sail again along with me? Please your honor, my lord, I could'nt 

 help it arter all that there kind discourse." 



Of Captain Wemyss's power of voice 1 have already spoken, and I 

 should think it seldom needed the aid of the trumpet, even on the quarter 

 deck. Indeed, his chairman at the Cupar dinner — in allusion, perhaps, 

 to his speaking the sentiments of his constituents — pronounced the 

 captain to be *' no whisperer, even in a drawing room;" but the follow- 

 ing anecdote, related to me by one who was a party concerned in it, will 

 plainly show, that the captain speaks out every where. My informant 

 and himself, it appeared, were one Sunday in the same pew, in the most 

 aristocratic church in all London. " I say, Melville*," said the captain, 

 loud enough to be heard by half the congregation at least, *' that's a d — d 

 dandified looking fellow ; is he not?'' Mr. Melville dropped as if he 

 had been shot, and was some time ere he could venture to raise his head. 

 But, reader ! Who do you imagine this " d — d dandified looking fellow" 

 to have been ? why no other than the parson who had just settled him- 

 self in the pulpit, ready to commence his discourse, a time at which, of 

 all others, the greatest silence generally prevails in churches ! Speaking 

 out in a church, however, is no great novelty — Sir Roger de Coverley to 

 wit, who would let no one sleep during the sermon but himself, calling to 

 them with an audible voice if they did ; and it is written of the celebrated 

 Lord Sackville, of former days, who is said to have gone every Sunday to 

 church at the head of his whole establishment, — '' leaving only a sentinel 



* Not Mr. Whyte Melville. 



