this time (1751),
at the head of the moderate interest, and had his temper been equal to
his talents, might have kept it long, for he had both learning and
sagacity, and very agreeable conversation, _with a constitution able to
bear the conviviality of the times._"

Now, of all the anecdotes and facts which I have collected, or of all
which I have ever heard to illustrate the state of Scottish society in
the past times, as regards its habits of intemperance, this assuredly
surpasses them all.--Of two well-known, distinguished, and leading
clergymen in the middle of the eighteenth century, one who had "obtained
much respect," and "had the appearance of great strictness in religion,"
is described as an enormous drinker of claret; the other, an able leader
of a powerful section in the church, is described as _owing_ his
influence to his power of meeting the conviviality of the times. Suppose
for a moment a future biographer should write in this strain of eminent
divines, and should apply to distinguished members of the Scottish
Church in 1863 such description as the following:--"Dr. ---- was a man
who took a leading part in all church affairs at this time, and was much
looked up to by the evangelical section of the General Assembly; he
could always carry off without difficulty his five bottles of claret.
Dr. ---- had great influence in society, and led the opposite party in
the General Assembly, as he could take his place in all companies, and
drink on fair terms at the most convivial tables!!" Why, this seems to
us so monstrous, that we can scarcely believe Dr. Carlyle's account of
matters in his day to be possible.

There is a story which illustrates, with terrible force, the power
which drinking had obtained in Scottish social life. I have been
deterred from bringing it forward, as too shocking for production. But
as the story is pretty well known, and its truth vouched for on high
authority, I venture to give it, as affording a proof that, in those
days, no consideration, not even the most awful that affects human
nature, could be made to outweigh the claims of a determined
conviviality. It may, I think, be mentioned also, in the way of warning
men generally against the hardening and demoralising effects of habitual
drunkenness. The story is this:--At a prolonged drinking bout, one of
the party remarked, "What gars the laird of Garskadden look sae
gash[39]?" "Ou," says his neighbour, the laird of Kilmardinny, "deil