When at Edinburgh last
winter, I got acquainted at the Herald's office; and looking thro'
the granary of honors, I there found almost every name in the
kingdom; but for me,
My ancient but ignoble blood
Has crept thro' scoundrels since the flood.
Gules, purpure, argent, etc., quite disowned me. My forefathers
rented land of the famous, noble Keiths of Marshal, and had the
honor to share their fate. I do not use the word 'honor' with any
reference to political principles: _loyal_ and _disloyal_ I take
to be merely relative terms in that ancient and formidable court
known in this country by the name of 'club-law.' Those who dare
welcome Ruin and shake hands with Infamy, for what they believe
sincerely to be the cause of their God or their King, are--as Mark
Antony in _Shakspear_ says of Brutus and Cassius--'honorable men.'
I mention this circumstance because it threw my Father on the
world at large; where, after many years' wanderings and
sojournings, he picked up a pretty large quantity of observation
and experience, to which I am indebted for most of my pretensions
to Wisdom. I have met with few who understood Men, their manners
and their ways, equal to him; but stubborn, ungainly Integrity,
and headlong, ungovernable Irascibility, are disqualifying
circumstances; consequently, I was born, a very poor man's son.
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