, till he carried the joke rather too far,
in making proposals to one of the young ladies of the family, and publishing the
banns betwixt her and himself in the public church.
 
18 After the Revolution of 1688, and on some occasions when the spirit of the
Presbyterians had been unusually animated against their opponents, the Episcopal
clergymen, who were chiefly non-jurors, were exposed to be mobbed, as we should
now say, or rabbled, as the phrase then went, to expiate their political
heresies. But notwithstanding that the Presbyterians had the persecution in
Charles II. and his brother's time, to exasperate them, there was little
mischief done beyond the kind of petty violence mentioned in the text.
 
19 Southey's Madoc.
 
20 I may here mention, that the fashion of compotation described in the text,
was still occasionally practised in Scotland, in the author's youth. A company,
after having taken leave of their host, often went to finish the evening at the
clachan or village, in »womb of tavern.« Their entertainer always accompanied
them to take the stirrup-cup, which often occasioned a long and late revel.
The Poculum Potatorium, of the valiant Baron, his blessed Bear, has a prototype
at the fine old Castle of Glammis, so rich in memorials of ancient times; it is
a massive beaker of silver, double gilt, moulded into the shape of a lion, and
holding about an English pint of wine. The form alludes to the family name of
Strathmore, which is Lyon, and, when exhibited, the cup must necessarily be
emptied to the Earl's health. The author ought perhaps to be ashamed of
recording that he has had the honour of swallowing the contents of the Lion; and
the recollection of the feat served to suggest the story of the Bear of
Bradwardine. In the family of Scott of Thirlestane (not Thirlestane in the
Forest, but the place of the same name in Roxburghshire) was long preserved a
cup of the same kind, in the form of a jackboot. Each guest was obliged to empty
this at his departure. If the guest's name was Scott, the necessity was doubly
imperative.
When the landlord of an inn presented his guests with deoch an doruis, that is,
the drink at the door, or the stirrup-cup, the draught was not charged in the
reckoning. On this point a learned Bailie of the town of Forfar, pronounced a
very sound judgement.
A., an ale-wife in Forfar, had brewed her »peck of malt,« and