e I could trust myself to speak respectfully of any
privileged class or person who had not distinguished himself in some
good way and therefore earned the right to public respect. There was
still the sneer behind for mere pedigree--"he is nothing, has done
nothing, only an accident, a fraud strutting in borrowed plumes; all
he has to his account is the accident of birth; the most fruitful part
of his family, as with the potato, lies underground." I wondered that
intelligent men could live where another human being was born to a
privilege which was not also their birthright. I was never tired of
quoting the only words which gave proper vent to my indignation:

"There was a Brutus once that would have brooked
Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome
As easily as a king."

But then kings were kings, not mere shadows. All this was inherited,
of course. I only echoed what I heard at home.

Dunfermline has long been renowned as perhaps the most radical town in
the Kingdom, although I know Paisley has claims. This is all the more
creditable to the cause of radicalism because in the days of which I
speak the population of Dunfermline was in large part composed of men
who were small manufacturers, each owning his own loom or looms. They
were not tied down to regular hours, their labors being piece work.
They got webs from the larger manufacturers and the weaving was done
at home.

These were times of intense political excitement, and there was
frequently seen throughout the entire town, for a short time after the
midday meal, small groups of men with their aprons girt about them
discussing affairs of state. The names of Hume, Cobden, and Bright
were upon every one's tongue. I was often attracted, small as I was,
to these circles and was an earnest listener to the conversation,
which was wholly one-sided. The generally accepted conclusion was that
there must be a change. Clubs were formed among the townsfolk, and the
London newspapers were subscribed for. The leading editorials were
read every evening to the people, strangely enough, from one of the
pulpits of the town. My uncle, Bailie Morrison, was often the reader,
and, as the articles were commented upon by him and others after being
read, the meetings were quite exciting.

These political meetings were of frequent occurrence, and, as might be
expected, I was as deeply interested as any of the family and attended
many. One of my uncles or my father was ge