388 NIMROD'S NORTHERN TOUR. 



together one day after hunting. Far from a wish to bruise the broken 

 reed, but to restore it to its wonted vigour, the captain was relating the case 

 of a whipper-in that he knew— a fac-simile of Philip, one of the cleverest of 

 the clever— who lost an excellent place, under an excellent master, (tu 

 quoque Philippe !) because he would get drunk. '* Did he, indeed, sir,'' 

 said Philip ; "dear me, how surprising 1" But this is human nature, so well 

 set forth in the fable of the old man and his wallet. We had another rich 

 scene with poor Philip, one evening at Keith -hall, during our visit to the 

 stables, by lamp-light. " Will you promise to keep sober ?" said the 

 captain to him. " I will, indeed, captain," replied Philip, in a very 

 penitent tone; " I'll promise never to get too much drink again, if my 

 lord will please to keep me»" " You have heard of O'Connell, have 

 you not, Philip," said I to him. " I can't say but I have," replied 

 Philip. " Then do as he did," resumed I, stretching out my arm upwards, 

 ^^ make a vow to heaven f' when he actually went through the man- 

 oeuvre, with his eyes turned upwards. But what is a vow when opposed 

 to whiskey? Philip no doubt thought with Shakspeare that " the gods 

 are deaf to hot and peevish vow^s," and in about a month from that time, 

 he was drafted as incurable from riot, as we say of a hound. But don't 

 let it be supposed that I mean to charge Scotch servants in general with 

 the hideous and ruinous vice of drunkenness, which, as the immortal 

 novelist and historian of their country says, *' is the greatest bar to 

 greatness in any way." 



Having been told that Willie, Lord Kintore's groom, was a great 

 admirer of Burns's lyricks, and that he sang one of his Bacchanalian 

 odes with great taste, he was one evening, at my request, introduced into 

 the dinner room at Gask, and at the word of command, gave us the beau- 

 tiful ballad of 



