The Sun.
London, England, 1866-06-22 00:00:00

SNVFF-BROWN AND SCARLET.

A true merchant prince was Andrew Ramsay, and be
and his brethren, the " Tobacco Lords," reigned over
Glasgow of 1777 with a more than princely rule. For old
mother Clyde had so bestirred herself to give her sons a
fair start in life that many of them bad come to be the
chief merchants of this dear little queen island of the seas.
It is said of one of them that "he traded yearly for above
half a million sterling." It is no great wonder to our poor
human nature that our " Tobacco Lords" were ex-
ceeding proud " should strut, an' stare, an' a' that."
Moreover, they wore scarlet cloaks, cocked hats, and
golden-headed canes, while bumbler men wore snuff-
brown coats and continuations, with handsome com-
fortable white woollen stockings to the knee, which
last article must have got fearfully splashed in our
streets of 1777. When a snuff-brown coat met a scarlet
cloak it drew together about the shoulders and slipped
past, a strange living expression of "by your honour's
leave" in every crease. Sometimes the scarlet cloak
strutted past, the eyes of the wearer having an elevation of
90 degs., or thereby. Sometimes it said, " How d'ye do ?'
superciliously, and sometimes it stood still, to shake hands
and have quite a friendly " crack" in a lordly way. The
snuff-brown coat was only cast down when the scarlet
passed by, only content when it gave however supercilious
a greeting, and only delighted when it shook hands and
had a "crack." Snuff-brown never quarrelled with
scarlet, act as it would. What a strange place Glasgow
must have been a hundred years ago ! And then it had
only one pavement, the " plainstanes " by name. And a
very fine thing they considered it. It was under the
piazzas, in front of the public offices near the Cross. Hero
all the scarlet cloaks paraded, talking over merchandise
and politics, inside of a double row of cannon set on end
like a rustic paling. Outside the cannon passed the
peaceably-disposed " snuff-browns," though I dare say
sonic more ambitious obtruded themselves on the " plain-
stanes," and looked hard to get some sign of recognition
from the great men.

Very little does it trouble John M'Farlane on
which side of the road his path may lie. His young
son chafes at his moderation, and urges him to walk
upon " the plainstanes."
His father locked at him and smiled.

" It's never been my way in life, John, to take the crown
o' the causey. Them that would keep it maun fight for it
I slip my ways past in peace. And we save ourselves a
deal of vexation, John, by keeping the place we naturilly fall
into. When our Lord marked how they chose out the
chief rooms at feasts, he said, 'When thou art bidden, goand
sit down in the lowest room, that when he that bade thee
coine', he may say unto thee, friend, go up higher.
That's not only a lesson in religion, John, it's good world-
wisdom. If they shouldn't say go up higher, they can
scarce say go down lower."

Far less happy in his pride is Andrew Ramsay as
he sits at the head of his princely table, with " a
splendidly got-up footman" taking note of his short-
comings, and " looking sublimely unobservant."

Oh, the misfortune of the man who has made the too
too Joany thousands that tempt him to keep a finer gentle-,
man than himself standing behind his chair ! While by
wise saws and homely adages he seeks to spur on his lads
that it's "so amazing to see what they are, and to think
how he began ;" while he prides himself innocently on his
bonny lasses that are "so wonderful considering ;" while
he addresses the wife of his bosom—who began
with him so humbly and with him has run so
well—in the kindly Scottish idiom, that fellow, who
has been accustomed to lords and ladies, is sneering at him ;
sneering at him, so he cannot raise his eyes while he stands
in front of him ; sneering at him, so he feels it all down
his spinal marrow while he stands behind him ! But a
free-born man will kick a little under such slavery. Andrew
Ramsay, without looking up, gruffly desired John to see
that his cloak was better brushed than yesterday, and to
fetch a different pair of shoes from that, and then he felt
somewhat appeased for his superiority. _

Isobel Ramsay, warm - hearted, simple - minded
" Bell ;" Janet M'Farlane, with her girlish devo-
tion to romance, who lets the supper burn while she
is poring over " Evelina," but who ultimately sub-
sides into the most matter-of-fact and credit-
able of matrons, are more interesting, be-
cause more true to life, than the dreamy,
disconsolate Elison, with her mournful love and her
musical lamentations. Some of these last, however,
are very sweet and tender. The real heroine of
the book is Violet M'Farlane, " Mrs. Vi," the
charming coquette of the first volume, who delights
the eyes but grieves the hearts of those who love her,
and the noble-hearted heroine of the last volume,
who, in a spirit worthy of her father's daughter,
bears her self-imposed cross with patience and reso-
lution, and works good to herself and others out of
apparently overwhelming evil. Other very capital
characters we must leave unmentioned ; we have
said enough to demonstrate the nature of this very
charming and attractive tale.