Friend Mac Donald Part 14

Their anecdotes, in a word, prove that the Scotch see a subtle, pithy point more easily than the English, whatever these latter may say, and that they are not so intolerant in matters religious as they are often represented to be.

The further north you go in Great Britain, the more quick-wittedness and humour you find. For quickness in seizing the signification of a gesture, a glance, a tone, I do not hesitate, if my opinion have the slightest value, to give the palm to the Scotch.

When, for instance, in lecturing, I remind my audience that the English have given the British Isles the name of "_United_ Kingdom," the Scotch shake with laughter: the little point of sarcasm does not escape their intelligence. In England, I am generally obliged to pause on it and give them time to reflect; and once or twice, in the south, I was seized with a great temptation to cry out, _a la_ Mark Twain, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is a joke."

I have found all my audiences sympathetic and indulgent; but that which provokes a laugh in the north, often leaves the south indifferent. In Birmingham, Yorks.h.i.+re, Lancas.h.i.+re, in all these great centres of British activity, and in Scotland, that which is appreciated in a humorous lecture is a bit of covert satire--a pleasantry accompanied by an imperturble look: the kind of fun that the English themselves call "dry and quiet." In the south, you often regret to see that a broad joke brings you a roar of applause; while some of your pet points, those that you are proudest of, will pa.s.s almost unnoticed.

Let me give you an idea of that which the lecturer has to swallow sometimes.

In a room, a few miles out of London, I had just given a lecture to the members of a literary Society.

In this lecture, wis.h.i.+ng to show to my audience that enlightened and intelligent French people know how to appreciate British virtues, I had recited almost in its entirety that scene in the _Prise de Pekin_, in which the hero, a _Times_ correspondent, walks to execution with a firm step, defying the Emperor of China and his mandarins with the words, "La Hangleterre il etait le premiere nation du monde."

The lecture over, I had retired with the chairman to the committee-room.

Immediately after, a lady presented herself at the door and asked the chairman to introduce me to her.

After the usual salutations and compliments, the worthy lady said to me pointblank:

"You are not a Frenchman; I knew you were an Englishman."

"I am afraid the compliment is a little exaggerated," I responded; "certainly you cannot make me believe that I speak English so well as to pa.s.s for an Englishman."

"Oh! that is not it," she said; "but at the end of your lecture you gave us a French quotation with a very strong English accent."

I begged the lady to excuse me, as "I had a train to catch."

CHAPTER XIII.

Drollery of Scotch Phraseology. -- A Scotchman who Lost his Head. -- Two Severe Wounds. -- Premature Death. -- A Neat Comparison. -- Cold Comfort.

I have spoken in a preceding chapter of the picturesque manner in which the Scotch people of the old school express themselves. Here are two or three examples which will well ill.u.s.trate what I mean.

I one day made the acquaintance of an old Scotch soldier. He had been present at the battle of Waterloo, and was fond of talking about the Napoleonic wars.

I started his favourite topic.

He described the battle of Waterloo to me with the most remarkable clearness. It was even touching to hear him give the details of the death of one of his comrades whose head had been shot off by a cannon-ball.

"Poor fellow," he added, "he will have to appear at the Last Day with his head under his arm."

"Were you ever wounded, yourself?" I asked.

"Yes," replied the old Scot with an imperturbable seriousness which made it impossible to suppose that he intended a joke; "I received two wounds--one at Quatre-Bras and the other in the right leg."

I once had a long conversation with an old lady of eighty-two, whose grandfather had served, in his youth, under Bonnie Prince Charlie. She related to me all the wonderful adventures of her ancestor, and when she had come to the end, added, with a gravity that was sublime:

"He's deed noo."

The conversation of these Scots of the old school is full of surprises.

You must be ready for anything. In the very middle of the most pathetic story, out will come a remark that will make you shake with laughter.

This drollery has all the more hold over you, because it is natural. The Scot is too natural to aim at being amusing, and it is just this simplicity, this _naturalness_, which disarms and overcomes you.

Donald has a way of looking at things which gives his remarks a piquancy that is irresistible: it almost takes your breath away sometimes, you feel quite floored.

A Scotch pastor was trying to give a farmer of his parish an idea of the delights which await us in Paradise.

"Yes, Donald," he cried, "it is a perpetual concert. There's Raphael singing, Gabriel accompanying him on the harp, and all the angels flapping their wings to express their joy. Oh, Donald, what a sublime sight! You cannot imagine anything like it."

"Ay, ay, but I can," interrupted Donald. "It is just like the geese flap their wings when we have had a lang droot, an' they see the rain a comin'."

In making this remark, nothing is further from Donald's intention than to make a joke, or be irreverent. He says it in all seriousness. It is in this that a great charm of the Scotch phraseology lies.

A friend of mine told me that he was once walking through a churchyard with a Scotchman, and feeling a fit of sneezing coming on, he remarked to his companion that he feared he had taken a cold.

"That's bad," replied the Scotchman, "but there's mony a ane here who wad be glad o 't."

CHAPTER XIV.

Family Life -- "Can I a.s.sist you?" -- "No, I will a.s.sist myself, thank you." -- Hospitality in good Society. -- The Friends of Friends are Friends. -- When the Visitors come to an End there are more to follow. -- Good Society. -- Women. -- Men. -- Conversation in Scotland. -- A Touching little Scene.

The hospitality of the Scotch, the simplicity of their manners, and the authority which the father wields, give Scotch family life quite a patriarchal aspect.

The existence which the Scotch lead is a little morose in its austerity, but it becomes these cool, calm people, brought up in a religion that is the enemy of joyousness, and in a climate that induces sadness. Gaiety is produced by an agreeable sense of existence; it is the reflection of a generous sun in temperate climates.

Austerity banishes familiarity from family life and engenders constraint. I have seen Scotch homes where laughter is considered ill-bred, and the joyous shouts of children are repressed. I felt ill at ease there; that reserve inspired by an overdrawn sense of propriety paralysed my tongue, and I could only answer in monosyllables the monosyllabic remarks of my host and hostess. Happily nothing more elaborate was expected of me.

"Is this your first visit to Scotland?"

"No, I have had the pleasure of visiting Scotland several times."

"Our country must seem very dull to you after France."

"A little ... but I live in England."

"Which do you like best, England or Scotland?"

"Oh! Scotland, certainly."

"It is very cold to-day."

"Yes, but not colder than usual."