en
expressed by the late Mr. Wilson, the celebrated Scottish vocalist. He
was taking lessons from the late Mr. Finlay Dun, one of the most
accomplished musicians of the day. Mr. Dun had just returned from Italy,
and, impressed with admiration of the deep pathos, sentiment, and
passion of the Italian school of music, he regretted to find in his
pupil so lovely a voice and so much talent losing much of its effect for
want of feeling. Anxious, therefore, to throw into his friend's
performance something of the Italian expression, he proposed to bring it
out by this suggestion: "Now, Mr. Wilson, just suppose that I am your
lady love, and sing to me as you could imagine yourself doing were you
desirous of impressing her with your earnestness and affection." Poor
Mr. Wilson hesitated, blushed, and, under doubt how far such a
personification even in his case was allowable, at last remonstrated,
"Ay, Mr. Dun, ye forget I'm a married man!" A case has been reported of
a country girl, however, who thought it possible there might be an
excess in such scrupulous regard to appearances. On her marriage-day,
the youth to whom she was about to be united said to her in a triumphant
tone, "Weel, Jenny, haven't I been unco ceevil?" alluding to the fact
that during their whole courtship he had never even given her a kiss.
Her quiet reply was, "Ou, ay, man; _senselessly_ ceevil."

One of these Montrose ladies and a sister lived together; and in a very
quiet way they were in the habit of giving little dinner-parties, to
which occasionally they invited their gentlemen friends. However,
gentlemen were not always to be had; and on one occasion, when such a
difficulty had occurred, they were talking over the matter with a
friend. The one lady seemed to consider such an acquisition almost
essential to the having a dinner at all. The other, who did not see the
same necessity, quietly adding, "But, indeed, oor Jean thinks a man
_perfect salvation_."

Very much of the same class of remarks was the following sly observation
of one of the sisterhood. At a well-known tea-table in a country town in
Forfarshire, the events of the day, grave and gay, had been fully
discussed by the assembled sisterhood. The occasion was improved by an
elderly spinster, as follows:--"Weel, weel, sirs, these are solemn
events--death and marriage--but ye ken they're what we must a' come
till." "Eh, Miss Jeany! ye have been lang spared," was the arch reply of
a younger member