Out in the Forty-Five Part 18

Flora looked puzzled, and Mr Cameron answered for her, with amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes.

"A mutch, young lady," said he, "is what you in the South call a cap."

"The South!" cried I. "Why, Mr Cameron, you do not think we live in the South?"

I felt almost vexed that he should fancy such a thing. For all that Grandmamma and my Aunt Dorothea used to say, I always look down upon the South. All the people I have seen who came from the South seemed to me to have a great deal of wiliness and foolishness, and no commonsense. I suppose the truth is that there are agreeable people, and good people, in the South, only they have not come my way.

When I cried out like that, Mr Cameron laughed.

"Well," said he, "north and south are comparative terms. We in Scotland think all England 'the South,'--and so it is, if you will think a moment. You in c.u.mberland, I suppose, draw the line at the Trent or the Humber; lower down, they employ the Thames; and a Surrey man thinks Suss.e.x is the South. 'Tis all a matter of comparison."

"What does a Suss.e.x man call the South?" said Angus.

"Spain and Portugal, I should think," said Mr Cameron.

"But, Mr Cameron," said I, "asking your pardon, is there not some difference of character or disposition between those in the North and in the South--I mean, of England?"

"Quite right, young lady," said he. "They are different tribes; and the Lowland Scots, among whom you are now coming, have the same original as yourself. There were two tribes amongst those whom we call Anglo-Saxons, that peopled England after the Britons were driven into Wales--namely, as you might guess, the Angles and the Saxons. The Angles ran from the Frith of Forth to the Trent; the Saxons from the Thames southward. The midland counties were in all likelihood a mixture of the two. There are, moreover, several foreign elements beyond this, in various counties. For instance, there is a large influx of Danish blood on the eastern coast, in parts of Lancas.h.i.+re, in Yorks.h.i.+re and Lincolns.h.i.+re, and in the Weald of Suss.e.x; there was a Flemish settlement in Lancas.h.i.+re and Norfolk, of considerable extent; the Britons were left in great numbers in c.u.mberland and Cornwall; the Jutes--a variety of Dane--peopled Kent entirely. Nor must we forget the Romans, who left a deep impress upon us, especially amongst Welsh families. 'Tis not easy for any of our mixed race to say, I am this, or that. Why, if most of us spoke the truth (supposing we might know it), we should say, 'I am one-quarter Saxon, one-eighth British, one-sixteenth Iberian, one-eighth Danish, one-sixteenth Flemish, one-thirty-secondth part Roman,'--and so forth. Now, Miss Caroline, how much of that can you remember?"

"All of it, I hope, Sir," said I; "I shall try to do so. I like to hear of those old times. But would you please to tell me, what is an Iberian?"

"My dear," said Mr Cameron, smiling, "I would gladly give you fifty pounds in gold, if you could tell me."

"Sir!" cried I, in great surprise.

He went on, more as if he were talking to himself, or to some very learned man, than to me.

"What is an Iberian? Ah, for the man who could tell us! What is a Basque?--what is an Etruscan?--what is a Magyar?--above all, what is a Cagot? Miss Caroline, my dear, there are deep questions in all arts and sciences; and, without knowing it, you have lighted on one of the deepest and most interesting. The most learned man that breathes can only answer you, as I do now (though I am far from being a learned man)--I do not know. I will, nevertheless, willingly tell you what little I do know; and the rather if you take an interest in such matters. All that we really know of the Iberii is that they came from Spain, and that they had reached that country from the East; that they were a narrow-headed people (the Celts or later Britons were round-headed); that they dwelt in rude houses in the interior of the country, first digging a pit in the ground, and building over it a kind of hut, sometimes of turf and sometimes of stone; that they wore very rude clothing, and were generally much less civilised than the Celts, who lived mainly on the coast; that they loved to dwell, and especially to wors.h.i.+p, on a mountain top; that they followed certain Eastern observances, such as running or leaping through the fire to Bel,--which savours of a Phoenician or a.s.syrian origin; and that it is more than likely that we owe to them those stupendous monuments yet standing-- Stonehenge, Avebury, the White Horse of Berks.h.i.+re, and the White Man of Wilmington."

"But what sort of a religion had they, if you please, Sir?" said I; for I wanted to get to know all I could about these strange fathers of ours.

"Idolatry, my dear, as you might suppose," answered Mr Cameron. "They wors.h.i.+pped the sun, which they identified with the serpent; and they had, moreover, a sacred tree--all, doubtless, relics of Eden. They would appear also to have had some sort of woman-wors.h.i.+p, for they held women in high honour, loved female sovereignty, and practised polyandry--that is, each woman had several husbands."

"I never heard of such queer folks!" said I. "And what became of them, Sir?"

"The Iberians and Celts together," he answered, "made up the people we call Britons. When the Saxons invaded the country, they were driven into the remote fastnesses of Wales, c.u.mberland, and Cornwall. Some antiquaries think the Picts had the same original, but this is one of the unsettled points of history."

"I wish it were possible to settle all such questions!" said Flora.

"So do the antiquaries, I can a.s.sure you," returned Mr Cameron, with a smile. "But it is scarce possible to come to a conclusion with any certainty as to the origin of a people of whom we cannot recover the language."

"If you please, Sir," said I, "what has the language to do with it?"

"It has everything to do with it, Miss Caroline. You did not know that languages grew, like plants, and could be cla.s.sified in groups after the same manner?"

"Please explain to us, Mr Cameron," said Flora. "It all sounds so strange."

"But it is very interesting," I said. "I want to know all about it."

"If you want to know _all_ about it," answered our friend, "you must consult some one else than me, for I do not know nearly all about it.

In truth, no one does. For myself, I have only arrived at the stage of knowing that I know next to nothing."

"That's easy enough to know, surely," said Angus.

"Not at all, Angus. It is one of the most difficult things to ascertain in this world. No man is so ready to give an off-hand opinion on any and every subject, as the man who knows absolutely nothing. But we must not start another hare while the young ladies' question remains unanswered. Languages, my dears, are not made; they grow. The first language--that spoken in Eden--may have been given to man ready-made, by G.o.d; but I rather imagine, from the expressions of Holy Writ, that what was granted to Adam was the inward power of forming a tongue which should be rational and consistent with itself; and, if so, no doubt it was granted to Eve that she should understand him--perhaps that she should possess a similar power."

"The woman made the language, Sir, you may be sure," said Angus. "They are shocking chatterers."

"Unfortunately, my boy, Scripture is against you. 'Whatsoever Adam'-- not Eve--'called the name of every living creature, that was the name thereof.' To proceed:--The confusion of tongues at Babel seems, from what we can gather, to have called into being a number of languages quite separate from each other, yet all having a certain affinity. The structure differs; but some of the words are alike, or at least so nearly alike that the resemblance can be traced. Take the word for 'father' in all languages: cut down to its root, there is the same root found in all. Ab in Hebrew, abba in Syriac, pater in Greek and Latin, vater in Low Dutch, pere in French, padre in Spanish and Italian, father in English--ay, even the child's papa and the infant's daddy--all come from one root. But this cutting away of superfluities to get at the root, is precisely what a 'prentice hand should not attempt; like an unskilled gardener, he will prune away the wrong branches."

"Then, Sir," I asked, "what are the languages which belong to the same cla.s.s as ours?"

"Ours, young lady, is a composite language. It may almost be said to be made up of bits of other languages. German or Low Dutch is its mother, and the Scandinavian group--Swedish, Danish, and so forth--may be termed its aunts. It belongs mostly to what is called the Teutonic group; but there are in it traces of Celtic, and though more dimly perceptible, even of Latin and Oriental tongues. We are altogether a made-up nation--to which fact some say that we owe those excellences on which we are so fond of priding ourselves."

"Please, Sir, what are they?" I asked.

Mr Cameron seemed much amused at the question.

"What are the excellences we have?" said he; "or, what are those on which we pride ourselves? They are often not the same. And--notice it, young ladies, as you go through life--the virtue on which a man plumes himself the most highly is very frequently one which he possesses in small measure. (I do not say, in no measure.) Well, I suppose the qualities on which we English--"

"We are not Englis.h.!.+" cried Angus, hotly.

"For this purpose we are," was Mr Cameron's answer. "As I observed before, the Lowland Scots and the northern English are one tribe. But I was going to say, when you were so rude as to interrupt me, English and Scots, young gentleman."

Angus growled out, "Beg your pardon."

"Take it," said Mr Cameron, pleasantly. "Now for the question. On what good qualities do we plume ourselves? Well, I think, on steadiness, independence, loyalty, truthfulness, firmness, honesty, and love of fair play. How far we are justified in doing so, perhaps other nations are the better judges. They, I believe, generally regard us as a proud and surly race--qualities on which there is no occasion to plume ourselves."

"Much loyalty we have got to glory in!" said Angus.

"We have always tried," replied Mr Cameron, "to run loyalty and liberty together; and when the two pull smoothly, undoubtedly the national chaise gets along the best. Unhappily, when harnessed to the same chariot, one of those steeds is very apt to kick over the traces. But we will not venture on such delicate ground, seeing that our political colours differ; nor is this the time to do it, for here is the inn where we are to dine."

When we drove up to the manse on Wednesday, the floor stood open, and in the doorway was Helen Raeburn, who had evidently seen our chaise, and was waiting for us. Flora was out the first, and she and Helen flew into one another's arms, and hugged and kissed each other as if they could never leave off. I was surprised to find Helen so old. I thought Elspie's niece would have been between thirty and forty; and she looks more like sixty. Then Flora flew into the house to find her father, and Helen turned to me.

"You're vara welcome, young leddy," said she, "and the Lord make ye a blessin' amang us. Will ye come ben the now? Miss Flora, she's aff to find the minister, bless her bonnie face!--but if ye'll please to come awa' wi' me, I'll show ye the way.--Maister Angus, my laddie, welcome hame!--are ye grown too grand to kiss your auld nursie, my callant?"

Angus gave her a kiss, but not at all like Flora; rather as if he had it to do, and wanted to get it over.

"Well, Helen!" said Mr Cameron, as he came down from the chaise, "and how goes the world with you, my woman?"

"I wish ye a gude evening, Mr Alexander," said she. "The warld gaes vara weel wi' me, thanks to ye for speirin'. No that the warld's onie better, but the Lord turns all to gude for His ain. The minister's in his study, and he'll be blithe to see ye. Now, my la.s.sie--I ask your pardon, but ye see I'm used to Miss Flora."

"Please call me just what you like," I said, and I followed Helen up a little pa.s.sage paved with stone, and into a room on the right hand, where I found Flora standing by a tall fine-looking man, who had his arm round her shoulders, and who was so like her that he could only be her father. Flora's face was lighted up as I had seen it but once before-- so bright and happy she looked!

"And here is our young guest, your cousin," said my Uncle Drummond, turning to me with a very kind smile. "My dear, may your stay be profitable and pleasant among us,--ay, and mayest thou find favour in the eyes of the G.o.d of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to trust!"

It sounded very strange to me. Did these people pray about everything?

I had heard Father speak contemptuously of "praying Presbyters," and I thought Uncle Drummond must be one of that sort. But I could not see that a minister looked at all different from a clergyman. They seemed to me very much the same sort of creature.