It's aye the cheapest lawyer's fee To taste the barrel. Alake! that e'er my Muse has reason And hardly in a winter's season E'er spier her price. blame throat ask Wae worth that brandy, burning trash! hash, O' half his days; And sends, beside, auld Scotland's cash To her warst faes. rough fellow Ye Scots, wha wish auld Scotland well, It sets you ill, Wi' bitter, dearthfu' wines to mell, Or foreign gill. May gravels round his blather wrench, Wha twists his gruntle wi' a glunch mouth - frown Out owre a glass o' whisky-punch Wi' honest men! Oh whisky soul o' plays and pranks! When wanting thee, what tuneless cranks' Thou comes they rattle ' their ranks At ither's ! Thee, Ferintosh! oh sadly lost! Now colic grips, and barkin' hoast, For loyal Forbes' chartered boast 1 Crank- the noise of an ungreased wheel. cough 2 For services and expenses on the public account at the Revolution, Forbes of Culloden was empowered, by an act of the Scottish Parliament in 1690, to distil whiskey on his barony of Ferintosh, in Cromartyshire, free of duty. This inconsiderately conferred privilege in time became the source of a great revenue to the family; and Ferintosh was at length recognized as something like a synonyme for whiskey, so much of it was there distilled. By the act respecting the Scotch distilleries in 1785, this privilege was declared to be abolished, the Lords of the Treasury being left to make such compensation to the existing Mr. Forbes as should be deemed just, or, should they fail to make a satisfactory arrangement, the case was to be decided by a jury before the Scottish Court of Exchequer. The Lords failing to satisfy Mr. Forbes, the case was accordingly tried by a jury, November 29, 1785, when it was shown by Mr. Henry Erskine, the plaintiff's counsel, that Thae curst horse leeches o' th' Excise, Wha mak the whisky-stells their prize! Haud up thy han', Deil! ance, twice, thrice! There, seize the blinkers! And bake them up in brunstane pies For poor dd drinkers. Fortune! if thou'll but gie me still Hale breeks, a scone, and whisky-gill, barley-cake And rowth o' rhyme to rave at will, abundance Tak a' the rest, And deal't about as thy blind skill Directs thee best. the privilege could be made to yield no less than £7,000 a year to the family, though the actual annual gains from it, at an average of the last thirteen years, was but a little more than £1,000. He further showed, that while the right was an undoubted piece of property, which nothing could justly take away, the family had not failed to deserve it, as they had ever continued useful and loyal servants to the govern ment, Mr. Duncan Forbes, the late Lord President, having, in particular, spent no less than £20,000 of his private fortune in suppressing the rebellion of 1745-6. The jury sur prised the Lords of the Treasury by decreeing the sum of £21,580 for "loyal Forbes' chartered boast." THE AUTHOR'S EARNEST CRY AND PRAYER ГО THE SCOTCH REPRESENTATIVES IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. "Dearest of distillation! last and best! How art thou lost!"-PARODY ON MILTON. Towards the close of the year 1785, loud complaints were made by the Scottish distillers respecting the vexatious and oppressive manner in which the Excise laws were. enforced at their establishments - such rigor, they said, being exercised at the instigation of the London distillers, who looked with jealousy on the success of their northern brethren. So great was the severity of the Excise, that many distillers were obliged to abandon the trade, and the price of barley was beginning to be affected. Illicit distillation was also found to be alarmingly on the increase. In consequence of the earnest remonstrances of the distillers, backed by the county gentlemen, an act was passed in the session of 1786 (alluded to by the author), whereby the duties on low wines, spirits, etc., were discontinued, and an annual tax imposed on stills, according to their capacity. This act gave general satisfaction. These verses seem to have been composed during the general outcry against fiscal oppression at the end of 1785, or beginning of 1786. YE Irish lords, ye knights and squires, And doucely manage our affairs soberly In parliament, To you a simple Bardie's prayers Alas! my roopit1 Muse is hearse ! Low i' the dust, And screechin' out prosaic verse, Tell them wha hae the chief direction, And rouse them up to strong conviction, Stand forth, and tell yon Premier youth, Tell him o' mine and Scotland's drouth, The muckle devil blaw ye south, Does ony great man glunch and gloom? Speak out, and never fash your thoom! frown trouble 1 A person at the last stage of cold in the throat is said in Scotland to be roopit. The word is not in Jamieson. 2 Mr. Pitt. |