taken down from the shelf. For such a man
to begin a new novel would have been as irksome as travelling in a
foreign land."

I am bound to say that I have great sympathy with the sentiments I have
quoted from the speech of this kilted critic. If it were possible to
retain the elasticity and adjustableness of the mind till the end of
life, new authors would perhaps fix our attention as much as the old.
But only a limited number of articulate-speaking men, such as the
omnivorous Professor Saintsbury of Edinburgh, preserve their appetite
tireless and intact. The Professor, like a literary Livingstone, can
grapple with the most arid and dusty libraries, and is the envy of all
scholars; but, alas! the majority of us have to take something less than
the whole of knowledge for our province.

It must not be supposed that all the remarks made at these meetings were
like those I have quoted. An airy irrelevancy was quite as common as the
serious note.

VARIETIES OF CHAIRMEN.

I have had experience of hundreds of chairmen, and admired most of them.
It is rather a painful thing to have one who is utterly unversed in
speaking. I remember being introduced in the ante-room to the chairman
of the evening, and, big bucolic giant as he was, he seemed fearfully
perturbed. His hand trembled, his lips were ashy-gray, and his laugh was
a nervous grin. "I am not much used to this sort of thing," said he,
with a poor attempt at mirth and a furtive movement of his hand to his
waistcoat pocket, where he had his introductory speech. "All you have to
do is to introduce me," I hinted; "you needn't say much." On the
platform he shook so much that the whole structure quivered. He rose,
and was received with loud applause. Happily he did not read his speech,
but simply pointed to me and said, "G-g-go on." He sank in his chair,
while runnels of sweat coursed down his cheeks. I admired that chairman
more than one in Caithness, who, after angling for the honour of taking
the chair, grew so terrified towards the hour of meeting, that he went
to bed and sent word he couldn't be present owing to flying pains in his
leg! In country districts, reluctance to take the chair arises from a
man's fear of making himself ridiculous; once he cuts a poor figure in
public, discredit is for ever attached to his name.

Highlanders as a rule make excellent chairmen. The superior gifts of the
Celtic mind, in imagination and wealth of florid expression, nowhere
show