rsons to whom drinking was
most injurious, and who were yet not strong-minded enough to resist the
temptations to excess. Poor James Boswell, who certainly required no
_extraordinary_ urging to take a glass too much, is found in his
letters, which have recently come to light, laying the blame of his
excesses to "falling into a habit which still prevails in Scotland;" and
then he remarks, with censorious emphasis, on the "drunken manners of
his countrymen." This was about 1770.

A friend of mine, however, lately departed--Mr. Boswell of
Balmuto--showed more spirit than the Londoner, when he found himself in
a similar situation. Challenged by the host to drink, urged and almost
forced to swallow a quantity of wine against his own inclination, he
proposed a counter-challenge in the way of eating, and made the
following ludicrous and original proposal to the company,--that two or
three legs of mutton should be prepared, and he would then contest the
point of who could devour most meat; and certainly it seems as
reasonable to compel people to _eat_, as to compel them to drink, beyond
the natural cravings of nature.

The situation of ladies, too, must frequently have been very
disagreeable--when, for instance, gentlemen came up stairs in a
condition most unfit for female society. Indeed they were often
compelled to fly from scenes which were most unfitting for them to
witness. They were expected to get out of the way at the proper time, or
when a hint was given them to do so. At Glasgow sixty years ago, when
the time had come for the _bowl_ to be introduced, some jovial and
thirsty members of the company proposed as a toast, "The trade of
Glasgow and _the outward bound!_" The hint was taken, and silks and
satins moved off to the drawing-room.

In my part of the country the traditionary stories of drinking prowess
are quite marvellous. On Deeside there flourished a certain Saunders
Paul (whom I remember an old man), an innkeeper at Banchory. He was said
to have drunk whisky, glass for glass, to the claret of Mr. Maule and
the Laird of Skene for a whole evening; and in those days there was a
traditional story of his despatching, at one sitting, in company with a
character celebrated for conviviality--one of the men employed to float
rafts of timber down the Dee--three dozen of porter. Of this Mr. Paul it
was recorded, that on being asked if he considered porter as a wholesome
beverage, he replied, "Oh yes, if you don't take