The Modern Scottish Minstrel, Volume V. | Page 5

and heroic in human character--
"Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster!"
I see him before me, as he lives in the recollections of childhood--as he lives and seems to speak in Raeburn's inimitable portrait at Fleurs. What a perfect mould of man! scarce one mark of old age in that face--no sign of weakness or decay in that frame, which has weathered eighty winters. He was over the middle size; straight, firm, strong built, and compact, with the air of native lordliness and command. His countenance was peculiarly beautiful, full and rounded as if young; fresh-coloured; and beaming with health, spirit, and vivacity. Its almost womanly sweetness was chastened and redeemed by the massiveness of the head, the deep penetrating eye, and an aspect of uncommon elevation and nobleness. Till the last, he was the very personification of the old _Dux_--the Duke of Chivalry--the foremost leader and commander of the people. But instead of chained mail and helmet, he was to be seen every day walking about amongst his people in hoddin-gray coat, nankeen breeches, white vest, and rumpled white hat--plain, easy, manly, and unaffected in all things.
Beyond the honour of an occasional pinch of the ears, or that kind, homely greeting which in passing he bestowed on all of us, young and old, I did not and could not know him personally. But, from those who did, I have always heard the highest estimate of his character, intellectually and morally. He possessed extensive information; but rather that of a man who had moved much about, and observed much, than from book-lore. His understanding was of the most masculine order--in all his views and judgments, distinguished by clearness, decision, and energy. But his great mental characteristic seems to have been _wisdom_--that fine, just inward sense of things, which, like poetry, is born in a man, not acquired--the result, generally, as in his case, of an innate power, combined with large, varied, and calming experience. Like most men of this stamp, he had both a keen sense of the humorous, and a racy talent for it; abounded in sententious, remarkable sayings; and had a dash of playfulness and eccentricity which gave a zest to his many solid excellences. The physician who attended his deathbed, often expressed regret that he had not kept a memorandum of his many striking observations during the short period of his illness. His character, morally, may be summed up in its two polar qualities--justice the most austere, generosity the most tender and boundless. Interwoven through his whole dispositions and actions was a strong, vehement temperament, which infused into all he said and did a vivid intensity, which would sometimes degenerate into sallies of passion, but which, upon the whole, raised and exalted his character to the true heroic dimensions. His factor, a respectable Edinburgh burgess, a gunsmith by trade, whom he had selected for no aptitude but from the freak of the name (Innes), could not always appreciate his schemes of improvement on the estate, which really were not based on economic considerations, but were meant to afford large means of employment to the people. In consequence, the duke, though he respected him greatly, would sometimes be ruffled, and blurt out a harsh thing at his expense. Walking with him one day in the fields, he was explaining with the most animated eloquence, where he intended to make some drains. "But," interrupted the burgess-factor, only thinking of the balance-sheet, "you will spend a great deal of money." "Yes," retorted the old nobleman, with ineffable contempt; "you have guessed my object: I _will_ spend a great deal of money." Then, turning quick on his heel, "You know more about the barrel of an old gun than about drains." After one of those sallies, the factor, who resided a few miles from Fleurs, and had swallowed and forgotten the bitter dose, was preparing, about twelve o'clock at night, to go to bed, when there was a sharp, sudden ring at the door-bell. It was a messenger from the duke, with a letter, in which he stated, that, in reflecting on the incidents of the day before retiring to rest, he felt remorse for the taunt which he had uttered; that it was the ebullition of the moment, but cruel and unkind; and that he could not sleep until he had received forgiveness. It may be conceived in what ardent terms the factor replied, and with what redoubled attachment he regarded and served such a master! This was no exceptional blink of goodness. It was only a specimen of his habit of justice, even against himself--of his magnanimity and generous candour--changeless as the sun.
During the just, benignant sway of the "good Duke James," perhaps Fleurs was the happiest place of all Scotland to live in;--not a happier could be in the wide