In the absence of that finely-adjusted balance of power which ought to
be found in the state of marriage, it becomes a nice question, whether
less evil results from an overstretched domination on the part of the
husband, or from his due submission or subjugation to an authority
exercised by her, and carried farther than is generally deemed
consistent with the delicacy of her sex, or the situation in which she
is placed. Connected with this question is that which comprises the
comparative evil arising from a superabundance or deficiency of the
intellectual powers of the wife. We are too well aware of the
uselessness, as well as the impracticability, of solving such
speculative questions, to say a single word on either side of the
vexed argument to which they have given rise; but we will be within
our province, and probably not beyond the wishes of our readers, if we
lay before them a _case of real life_, involving a solution of the
question in one exemplary instance, where the "grey mare" is not only
found to be the "better horse," but where, by her powers of judicious
leading, she saves not only herself but her partner from the dangers
of a rough road and a precipitous course. In those good days of old
Scotland, when the corporation hall formed the theatre wherein was
enacted the great play (comedy, if you please) of "Burgh Ambition,"
the influence of petticoat power extended its secret workings behind
the green curtain, and often regulated all the actions of the
performers in a manner which was not only totally concealed from the
spectators, but even from the moving puppets themselves. In one
instance--that to which we have referred--this secret authority
transpired, and in a manner so ludicrous that it deserves to be
recorded. The incorporation of Dyers and Scourers of P---- (at the
time of which we speak a considerable fraternity) had a deacon and
boxmaster; the former named Murdoch Waldie, and the latter Andrew
Todd. Their names still figure in the old books of the corporation, if
these are not gone astray; and there is, or was, an entry in these
same books, connected with the reign of the two worthies, which,
illustrative and probative as it is of our story, we shall have
occasion to lay before our readers. Well, to proceed in historical
order, the worthy boxmaster had been married for a number of years. He
might be about fifty years of age, was of small stature, very bland
and affable in his manners, of an easy disposition, but, withal, as
ambitious of fame as any of the aspirants for office in his
corporation. Endowed by nature with very inadequate powers of
judgment, he experienced no want of the powers of speech, which was as
fluent as a shallow mind could make it; and he had, besides, a species
of humour about him, which owed its existence rather to the simplicity
and _bonhommie_ of his nature, than to the more ordinary source of a
perception of the ludicrous. As almost every want is remedied by some
equipollent surrogation which strangely often supplies its place,
Andrew Todd was _sensible_ of his want of mental powers; and thus he
exhibited that sense of a _want of sense_, which is often more
valuable than sense itself, in so far as the modesty with which it is
accompanied leads the individual to seek the assistance of good
advisers, by which he sometimes surpasses, in the race of life,
conceited wiseacres. We do not say that he married Mrs Jean Todd
merely because he saw she was endowed with greater powers than
himself; but it is certain that, after he came to appreciate the
extent of her understanding, he had the prudence to take every
advantage of her excellent sense and judgment, as well in the private
affairs of his business, as in the public concerns of the corporation
treasurership, with which he came, by her means, to be invested. This
was not only advantageous to his pecuniary interests, but congenial to
his feelings, as, getting quit, in this way, of the trouble of
thinking--a most laborious operation to him, and generally very ill
executed, if not altogether bungled--he was left at liberty to indulge
his speech and humour; two powers which had nothing more to do with
judgment or even common sense, than with the sublimated spirit of
genius itself.
His wife, Mrs Jean, was, as partly hinted, the very opposite of her
husband. She was a large, stout, gaucy woman, at least twice as big as
her mate. She had been, early in life, considerably pitted with the
small-pox, enough of the traces of which were still left to give her
that sturdy, hardy aspect they generally impart; while a strong and
somewhat rough voice, agreeing well with her other attributes, gave
her ideas and sentiments an apparent breadth and weight, which, added
to their own sterling qualities, could not fail to produce a
considerable effect even on men of strong minds, and to give her a
decided advantage over her sex. Her original powers of mind were
strengthened by reading--an occupation in which, as it required
silence, her husband very seldom engaged; and, what few women are able
to accomplish, she never allowed this favourite habit to interfere
with the regulation of her domestic economy, or of the actions of her
husband. Bold and masculine, however, as she was, she was a
kind-hearted woman; and, having no family to her husband, she was a
warm friend, a ready adviser to all her female acquaintances, and a
charitable giver to those who, after a strict and very stern
investigation, she thought worthy of her assistance.
The deacon of the incorporation again, Murdoch Waldie, was a man of a
very different cast from the boxmaster. He was a person of
considerable parts; but his conceit, which led him to conceive himself
cleverer than nature had made him, produced often all the consequences
which result from a deficiency of mental parts. Proud and domineering,
he loved to rule his corporation with dignity and authority; while his
love of official show and domestic parade rendered him extravagant,
and made him poor, notwithstanding of a good trade, which he carried
on with great success. In his choice of a wife, there might have been
perceived the tendency of his peculiar disposition; for he married a
beauty, who qualified his love of authority by an affected softness,
gentleness, and meekness, and his self-conceit, by showing herself
inferior to him in understanding, as indeed she was, though she
excelled him in another quality, which more than supplied its place.
What with his business, his deaconship, his chain, his gold-headed
cane, and his fair wife, dressed in the gaudy colours of his own
dyeing, Deacon Waldie was an important personage in those times, when
to be high in a corporation was to be in the enjoyment of the truest
elevation to which human nature, in this world, could aspire.
Vain, showy, gaudy, and frivolous, Mrs Deacon Waldie held the same
position to Mrs Todd that the boxmaster did to her husband. She had no
sense or power to rule her lord, who, indeed, would not have submitted
to female authority; but she had what Mrs Todd wanted, and what served
her purpose equally well, and that was cunning--the signal quality of
small, weak minds, and the very curse of the whole race of man and
woman. This insidious power enabled her to detect her husband's
failings, as well as to profit by them--and hence her affectation of
total subjugation to his high will and authority, and her tame system
of according and assenting to everything he said or did, whether right
or wrong. But in all this her selfish cunning had a part; because,
while she pretended to love him, and dote on him and prize him beyond
all mortals, her adulation, her blandishments, and submission were
accompanied or followed always by _petitions_. She contrived to have
hardihood enough to make the most unreasonable requests, and to show
that she was too sensitive, too fragile, and too weak, to bear a
refusal. If her suit was rejected, she flung herself upon the haughty
deacon's bosom, and sobbed; and what deacon could withstand the appeal
of beauty in tears? The sight was the very personification of the
triumph of his pride and dignity. The chain of his official authority,
and the arms of a praying, supplicating, weeping wife, hanging at the
same time around his proud neck, were the very counterparts of each
other. His love of subjugation bent, as it often does, his own head;
and cunning enjoyed its greatest triumph in overcoming one, by turning
his own weapons against himself.
The contrast which we have thus exhibited between these two couples,
is that of real everyday life. The characters of too many married
parties partake, more or less, of the qualities possessed by those we
have now mentioned; but how strangely do apparent contrasts often meet
in grotesque resemblances? Mrs Todd ruled her husband, and he knew it;
but Mrs Waldie ruled her husband, and he was ignorant of it: while the
one followed her occupation for her own and her husband's good, the
other was bent (unconsciously, it may be) on her own and her husband's
ruin.
These two couples were on the most intimate terms--the circumstance of
the two husbands being office-bearers of the same corporation having
increased an intimacy which had been of considerable duration. But
there was little respect felt for her showy friends on the part of the
wife of the minor official, who probably saw that their extravagance
was fast driving them to ruin. This foresight was soon verified. The
demands of Mrs Deacon Waldie were not limited to her own wants and
wishes--they were extended to those of her friends. Her father,
trusting to the reputation of her husband's deaconship, had occasion
for his security to the extent of L200; and she was fixed upon as the
instrument to wring, by her usual artifice, out of her proud lord and
master, not only his own name to the bond, but also that of some of
his friends, to be procured through his means and intercession. She
had, for a considerable time, been occupied zealously in endeavouring
to accomplish her object--bringing into contrast her husband's proud
domination, and her innocent and interesting weakness and timidity,
and showing, as she hung round his neck, her helplessness and
insignificance, at the very moment when she was exercising more power
than ever was arrogated by the boxmaster's wife in all her female
tyranny. She succeeded in her scheme, and Waldie consented--but only
as a king grants the prayer of a petition--not only to give his own
name to the bill, but to endeavour to get that of Mr Andrew Todd.
Tears of thankfulness, and a full acknowledgment of his great power
over her, was the reward offered and granted for this great
condescension and unparalleled favour. But it was more easy for Mrs
Waldie to ask, and give thanks and tears, and for her husband to
vouchsafe his own name as cautioner, than for him to get out of the
clutches of Mrs Jean Todd the consent of her husband. The deacon knew
how his brother-official was ruled by his wife, and lustily despised
the white-livered caitiff for his pusillanimity.
"I canna promise, Mrs Deacon Waldie," said he to his wife, according
to the fashion of address that suited his dignity--"I canna promise to
get the boxmaster to gie his name to yer faither's bond. He's sae
completely, puir cratur! under the power and direction o' a woman,
that he daurna tak sae muckle liberty wi' his ain. The woman brocht
him naething when he married her, but the iron rod o' authority by
which she rules him; and yet, strange to say, he seems to like her the
better for a' the stern dominion she exercises owre him."
"That's a fault, I'm sure, ye canna charge me wi'," replied his wife.
"No, Margaret," said the deacon; "you dare not presume to dictate to
me; and, to do you justice, you never attempted it; but I began ye
fair. I showed you at first the proper conduct o' a husband towards
his wife--firm but kind; and the duty o' a wife towards a
husband--obedient and loving; and it was weel that you had the sense
to understand me, and the good-nature to comply wi' my wishes; for, if
I had seen the least glimpse o' an inclination to rule me or force me
into yer measures, there wad sune hae been rebellion in the house o'
Deacon Waldie. The consequences o' a wife's domination are weel
exemplified in the case o' that contemptible man whase assistance we
now require. He daurna assist a freend. His wife is cash-keeper,
conscience-keeper, housekeeper, and, by and by, she may be box-keeper,
to the entire disgrace o' oor trade, wha, though they live by women
(for men never employ dyers), wouldna relish to acknowledge the
authority o' a female boxmaster. When a man resigns himsel to the
authority o' a wife, he is dune for a' guid to himsel as weel as his
neebors."
"Ye canna, my dear Murdoch," said the soft wife, "look upon a tame
husband, wha submits to the rule o' a wife, wi' mair contemp and ill
favour than I do upon the virago wha presumes to reverse the order o'
nature, and wrest the authority frae the lord o' the creation."
"You gie a fine turn to the sentiment, Margaret," replied the
gratified deacon. "I am anxious (but it is my ain free will) to do yer
faither this service; and I will try, for ance, if I canna fecht Mrs
Jean Todd wi' her ain weapons. The boxmaster's no dead to shame; and
surety, if there's ony power on earth whereby the blush can be brought
to the face o' man, it's the power o' being in a condition to tell
him to that very face he is _henpecked_. The very word has a spur and
a neb in't to rouse him to the vindication o' the rights o' man. I was
aye afraid o't; and, God be thanked! I hae escaped even the very
chance o' its application to me."
"You forgot, my love, that you hae also _me_ to thank for that
happiness," said the wife.
"No, it is mysel, it is mysel," cried the proud lord of his own
household. "It lies in my native sense o' the rights o' our superior
sex, and my firmness o' purpose in keepin the reins ticht upon ye. You
hae only the merit o' no rebellin; but even your rebellion I would hae
sune laid."
"I fancy, then," said Mrs Waldie, gently, "it will be your intention
and pleasure to see the boxmaster immediately."
"No, Mrs Waldie," replied the deacon, a little touched; "not
_immediately_, but by and by."
The deacon, however, did almost immediately wait upon the boxmaster,
and got him to adjourn to a tavern in the Lawnmarket, at that time
much frequented by the members of the incorporation. They had scarcely
seated themselves when the superior official opened his subject.
"I am a frank man, Mr Todd," began he, "and I winna hesitate to tell
ye at ance that I want a favour frae ye. Will ye join me in security
for my father-in-law to the extent o' twa hunder pounds?"
The boxmaster paused, and thought of the stern chamberlain at home. He
was inclined to assist his deacon, who was a person of great
importance in his eyes, but he saw the danger which might result from
his going out of his province, and acting upon what he conceived to be
right. His pause was at once understood by the deacon, whose keenness
to make a dash at the supposed obstacle to his suit arose from his
contempt of his friend's pusillanimous conduct, and his desire to
attain the object of his request.
"I can read your thoughts, Mr Todd," said he, as the boxmaster still
paused, and seemed irresolute and confused. "You _wish_ to serve, but
you daurna. Mrs Todd winna let ye follow the counsel o' yer ain heart.
This is a delicate subject; but I am your freend, and would wish to
redeem ye frae the slavery o' a woman's (and otherwise, I grant, a
guid and sensible woman's) domination in matters wherein she has nae
legitimate authority."
He waited the effect of this speech, which was a kind of touchstone.
"I see nae delicacy in a subject," replied the boxmaster, "whar
there's nae secresy. How does it come to be known that my wife is my
counsellor and adviser?--Because I mak nae secret o' what I hae nae
reason to be ashamed o'. I dinna ken how you feel, Mr Waldie, but I
think it's the pleasantest thing on earth to be, as it were, compelled
to alloo yersel to be taen care o', and defended, and nursed, and
petted, and ruled, by a guid wife. In my opinion, to be loved by a
wife is only the half o' oor right. Ony woman may love a man--it's a
woman's _trade_ to love; but when you see a dear cratur takin the
pains and trouble o' governin a' yer actions--ay, and as it were, even
yer very thoughts--lookin wi' a keen and carefu ee after yer maist
minute affairs, regulatin yer conduct, keepin yer siller, directin yer
financial, domestic, personal, private, and public operations; and, in
short, _thinkin_ for ye--how is it possible for a man to see sae
muckle care taen wi' him and his concerns, without bein filled wi'
gratitude and affection to her wha labours sae officiously for his
guid?"
"Mr Andrew Todd," said the deacon, impatiently, "you are describin ane
o' the maist pitifu and contemptible spirits that ever warmed the
scaly body o' a reptile that has nae sting. What man wi' a spark o'
independence in his breast would think o' resignin his judgment into
the hands o' a woman? They are guid craturs in their ain place, and
baith interestin and usefu when they are occupied in conductin the
affairs o' their houses, obeyin the commands o' their husbands, and
ministerin to his slichtest wishes, as if every look were an act of
parliament; but, to stoop to mak a woman a counsellor, to gie her a
vote in the great council o' the noble thoughts o' man's divine mind!
Unheard o' humiliation! Why, man, a woman is only the twenty-fourth
part o' a man, seein we hae, as the doctors say, twenty-four ribs; and
we hae the authority o' Scripture for sayin that, at the very best,
she is only a help to man. She was, besides, the beginnin o' a' evil.
And yet this fractional thing, this help, this unlucky author o' the
waes o' mortals, ye dignify and raise up into the very place and power
o' yer inheritance frae Adam; reversin the order o' nature, degradin
our noble sex and makin laughinstocks o' a' married men."
"I'm no sure if there's muckle practical truth in a' this, deacon,"
said Andrew, smiling good-naturedly. "Suppose, for an instant, that,
besides the satisfaction and pleasure I derive frae nestlin safely in
the arms o' my wife's judgment, and courin aneath her protectin
wing--whilk gies me, sometimes, a flap I like as weel as her kindest
embrace--I hae discovered that her thoughts and reflections are a
thousand times better than the boxmaster's--what say ye to that,
deacon? I hae seen an oaken tree twenty-four times bigger than its
parent, and yet a' it ever had to thank the auld stock for was an
acorn. Sae, in place o' only bein a twenty-fourth part, as you say, o'
man, I am satisfied I hae scarcely a twenty-fourth part o' my wife's
mind; and will onybody tell me that a wise counsellor should be
rejected, because she happens to be dressed in petticoats?"
"Yes, Mr Todd, I will tell you that," replied the deacon. "The private
sodger has dootless often a mind superior to the general's; but he
maun still keep the ranks. Mind is naething in this affair--station
is everything. Look at Mrs Margaret Waldie--a cleverer cratur doesna
exist--that is, in her ain way; but did she ever dare to counsel me?
Did she ever presume to sway or alter, in the slightest degree, the
decrees o' my judgment? Na; she has owre muckle respect for the status
and respectability o' her lord and maister. Rouse yersel, Andrew; tak
example by me, man; act as your kind heart prompts in this freendly
affair; and join me in the bond, whereby you'll incur nae danger."
"I am anxious to oblige ye, deacon," said Andrew; "but I scarcely
think it wad be a gratefu part in me to repay a' Mrs Jean Todd's care
o' me for twenty years, by actin, in this affair, upon my ain
individual and responsible judgment. I micht anger her, and she micht
withdraw frae me her countenance and protection: I micht as weel lose
the licht o' the sun. Ye dinna understand me, deacon; ye are made to
command--I to obey. Pressure brings out the power o' the spring; and
a' my happiness in life is produced and brocht out by the weight o'
the judgment and authority o' Mrs Jean Todd. Her very mind seems to
hae passed into mine; and I feel, when I'm thinking her thoughts, a
satisfaction I never feel when my ain are passin, like unbidden
ghaists, through my mind. But surely I hae some excuse: is she no a
noble cratur? How she maks a body shake wi' the sound o' her voice,
and the solidity o' her thoughts! and how beautifully she softens doun
the impression o' her authority, by restorin, wi' a half-severe,
half-kind sort o' a smile, peculiar to hersel, the confidence she
frightened awa by the mere force o' her superior intellect!"
"How beautifully, in short, Andrew," said the deacon, "are you
_henpecked_! That is the very soul and marrow o' a' ye hae uttered."
"Ay; and I glory to be pecked by _such_ a hen!" cried Andrew, with
sparkling eyes, and a real and unsophisticated appearance of triumph.
The deacon, notwithstanding of his anxiety to get the bond signed,
laughed outright at this tremendous sally of the boxmaster's
enthusiasm of servitude; but it was a laugh of derision, and he forgot
that he was himself daily losing more feathers, by a silent process of
peculation going on under his wing, than were taken from Andrew by the
conservative operation of his wife's billing and cooing.
"Then I suppose you will not refuse my request?" said the deacon,
"seein you glory in the _henpeckin_ it may produce. Seriously, will ye
comply wi' my request?"
"Seriously, deacon, I am inclined to oblige ye," replied Andrew, "if I
could get Mrs Jean to agree to it. I'll try her this very nicht. I can
say nae mair."
The deacon could make no more of him. He went home, and reported the
result of the negotiation to his wife, who despaired of success, but
overpowered her husband with thanks for what he had done. She had a
secret wish that he should do more--viz., call upon Mrs Jean Todd
herself, and solicit her. The difficulty of accomplishing this was to
herself apparent; but she was determined to carry her point in some
way or another; so she straightway began to weep bitterly, crying that
her father would be ruined; but never hinting any remedy for her
distress. This paroxysm of affected grief produced its usual effect
upon the proud husband; who, hard as a rock when attempted to be
dictated to, was as weak as a child when attacked with tears, and an
apparent helpless subjugation to his high will. He took the weeping
wife in his arms, and asked her what more he could do to assist her
father in this emergency.
"There's only ae way," said she, wiping her eyes; "there's just ae
remedy for our case."
"What is it, my love?" said the deacon.
"I canna mention't," said the cunning wife. "It's against a' the high
and proud feelins o' yer noble natur."
"But we are sometimes obliged to sacrifice our feelins," said the
gratified deacon. "Speak, my dear Margaret; ye ken wha ye're speakin
to. What is your remedy?"
"It's to ca' upon Mrs Jean Todd yersel," said she, holding away her
head, while another burst of tears overtook her voluntarily.
The deacon started back in amazement. The request _was_ against all
the feelings of his nature. The proud stickler for marital rule was in
an extraordinary position: first, his wife was governing him at that
moment, unknown to himself; and, secondly, he was requested to sue, at
the feet of a woman, for liberty to her husband to act as he chose.
"Margaret," said the deacon, "_you_, I am sure, dinna ask me to
overturn, at ae blow, a' the principles o' my life, conversation, and
conduct?"
"Na, Murdoch," said she, throwing her arms round his neck, and weeping
again--"na, na; _I_ dinna _ask_ ye."
"But ye maybe wish it, my dear Peggy," replied he, whimpering.
"Necessity is a great power: maybe ye feel _compelled_ to wish it."
"Maybe I do," said the wife, with another burst.
"Weel, Peggy, dry up yer tears, my love," said the conquered lord;
"I'll awa to Mrs Jean Todd."
And he was as good as his word. Away he went, to recognise that
authority in a wife which he so heartily despised, and to which he was
himself, at the very moment, bowing his head. He took the bill with
him, with the view of taking advantage of a compliance upon the
instant, as he feared the effects of a night's reconsideration. He
found the couple in a curious position. They were sitting, one on each
side of the fire. Mrs Jean Todd had on her spectacles; but her book
was lying on the table. Mr Todd was apparently doing nothing; but he
was thinking more deeply, and with more difficulty, than was his
partner, who was occupied doubtless in digesting what she had been
reading. Mr Todd was, in truth, at that very moment in the very act of
endeavouring to call up courage to tell his wife the import of the
deacon's request, and to make some attempt at supporting his petition.
A few words had passed previous to the entry of the deacon.
"I had a lang sederunt wi' our worthy deacon the day," said Andrew.
"He's no an ill body, the deacon. I canna forget the trouble he took
on my appointment to the honourable office o' boxmaster."
"It was _I_ that made ye boxmaster, Andrew," said Mrs Jean Todd. "I
commanded the suffrages o' the hail corporation. Deacon Waldie couldna
hae opposed me. I was at the blind side o' the electors, through their
wives; and what man could hae dared to compete wi' the electors'
wives, when they were determined to vote for me? The deacon professes
to laugh at _our_ authority. Puir man! he forgets, or doesna see, that
there's no a man in the hail corporation wha is mair ruled, and mair
dangerously ruled, by his wife than he is! She'll ruin him; and that
ye'll sune see. Nae tradesman could stand her extravagance; and, I
understand, she cunningly contrives to get him to assist _her_
friends, and to despise and disregard his ain. How different is my
conduct! Your friends, Andrew, I hae assisted; and the only thing I
ever left to your unassisted judgment was the benefiting o' mine."
This sensible speech had, as the sun does the fire, extinguished
Andrew's mental cogitations, and put out his courage. A silence had
reigned for several minutes, when Mr Deacon Waldie entered. Drawing in
a chair, he commenced--
"The boxmaster would doubtless be tellin ye, madam," said he, "that I
wanted a sma' favour aff him. My wife's father requires a bill for
intromissions the noo to the extent o' twa hunder pounds, and the
employers insist upon twa securities. They micht hae been content wi'
mysel; but, seein they hae refused my single name, I hae asked Andrew
to gie his, as a mere matter o' form, alang wi' my ain. I dinna doot"
(looking into Mrs Jean Todd's face, and attempting to laugh) "that ye
may hae _some_ influence wi' the boxmaster. He's quite _against_ it"
(looking at Andrew, and winking--a device observed by the quick-eyed
dame), "though there's nae danger; and I hae, therefore, come at ance
to the fountain-head o' a' authority. Just say to the boxmaster that
he ought sae far to oblige a freend, and the bill, which I hae here in
my hand, will be signed in an instant."
This speech was understood in a moment by Mrs Jean Todd. The manner
of her husband previous to the entry of the deacon--the deacon's
visit so soon after the meeting, his speech, his wink, and all
together--satisfied her that her husband was inclined to sign the
bill, and that they had laid their heads together to accomplish
their object by the manoeuvre to which they had thus resorted. Her
pride and honesty made her despise these underhand and crooked
schemes; but her prudence prevented her from showing either her
penetration or her feelings. There was one thing, however, which she
was determined not to countenance. She knew that Deacon Waldie
despised, and, indeed, openly, and at all times, and often in her
own presence, denounced the husband who allowed himself to be
dictated to by his wife; and now he was in the very act of proving
that her husband was worthy of that denouncement, and that she
herself was the individual who, by exercising authority over her
husband, had degraded him, and rendered him the subject of the
deacon's scorn. This hurt her beyond bearing; but she was determined
that she should not recognise this imputed authority. At the same
time, she could not allow her husband to be ruined; and the question
was, how she should act in these trying circumstances? Her quick
mind was soon at work. For some time she contrived to prevent an
awkward silence from sitting down upon them and producing
embarrassment; and this she accomplished by putting a few
insignificant questions to the deacon regarding his father-in-law,
while she was deliberating with herself what she was to do, and how
she was to escape from the dilemma in which she was situated.
In the first place, she caught her husband's eye, through which the
charm of her authority could generally be very easily sent. She
endeavoured to retain his glance, and to show that she was decidedly
opposed to this scheme, and saw through all its bearings. Without
altogether losing this hold of Andrew, she directed a prudent and
cautious speech to the ears of the deacon.
"I winna affect, Mr Deacon Waldie," said she, "notwithstanding I hae
often heard yer sentiments on the subject o' the authority o' wives--I
winna affect either to be ignorant o' my husband's affairs, or to be
careless o' what concerns baith him and me. I will say further, that I
dinna hesitate to gie him a guid advice when I think he requires it;
for out o' many counsellors comes wisdom; and, as Solomon says, 'every
purpose is established by counsel.' Though 'a good wife,' says the
same wise man, 'layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands holdeth
the distaff,' her business doesna finish there; for he adds, that 'the
heart o' her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have
no fear o' spoil.' But there's a limit to a wife's interference. You
say my husband has already declared his opinion" (looking at
Andrew)--"why then should I be asked to overturn the resolution o' his
ain mind and judgment? If my advice had been asked in time, it would
hae been given; but I canna think o' endeavourin to overrule my
master, when ance his mind is made up and his resolution fixed."
She rose as she finished this judicious speech, and left the room,
kindly bidding the deacon good-night. Both the men were surprised.
The deacon was chagrined. The boxmaster was left in great doubt and
perplexity. Both had great cause; for the first was caught in his own
snare, and the latter had had thrown upon him a superabundance of
power and authority in forming his own judgments that he never got
awarded to him before. The deacon was determined not to lose his
ground. _The dame had left the matter in the hands of the boxmaster_.
That was a great point gained; and he set about to convince Andrew
that he was left at liberty to do as he chose. But the worthy
boxmaster had very great doubts and scruples upon the subject, and
wished to follow Mrs Jean, to consult her in private. To this again
the deacon could not give his consent; but continued to pour into the
ears of the irresolute boxmaster all the arguments he could muster, to
satisfy him that the construction he had put upon Mrs Jean Todd's
speech was favourable to the exercise of his liberty, at least in this
case. The position was scarcely denied by Andrew; but he could not get
out of his mind the expression of his wife's eye. He had read in it a
denial and a reproof. At the same time, he could not reconcile it with
her speech, which was entirely different from anything of the kind he
had ever witnessed. Her opinions were always ready and decided; and he
never saw her shrink from declaring a difference of sentiment, when
she entertained an opinion different from his. Why, then, did she in
this instance depart from her ordinary course? The question was
difficult to answer. It seemed that she _did actually_ in a manner
leave it to himself. The deacon seemed to be right in his
construction; and his arguments were almost unanswerable.
"If," said he, "Mrs Jean Todd had been hostile to this measure, would
she not have declared it _manfully_, as is her uniform practice in
similar cases?"
The boxmaster could not answer the question satisfactorily; and the
deacon, continuing his arguments, persuasions, promises, and
flatteries, at last got the victim to put his name to the bill. Upon
the instant the door opened, and Mrs Jean Todd appeared before them.
She went forward to the table, and laid her hand upon the document.
"Is that your signature, sir?" said she, looking calmly at her
husband.
"Ou ay--I believe, yes--I did put my name to that paper," replied
Andrew, in great agitation; "but I thocht ye left me to do as I chose
when ye gaed oot. If ye didna want me to sign it, ye shouldna hae left
the room."
"A bill is no a bindin document," continued she, without seeming to
attend to what the boxmaster said, "until it be delivered. It's no
delivered sae lang as it is in my hands; and never will be delivered
by me sae lang as I recollect the words o' the wise man o' the east,
wha said--'If thou be surety for thy friend, thou art snared with the
words o' thy mouth.' Yet this paper is no my property. The stamp is
yours, though my husband's name is still his." Turning to the
boxmaster, who was shaking and retaining his breath with pure
fear--"Do you stand by this, sir," said she, in a commanding voice,
which increased his fear, "or do ye repent o't?"
"I repent o't," replied Andrew, with dry lips, and a gurgling of the
throat, as if he had been on the eve of choking.
"Then, I fancy," continued Mrs Jean Todd, "ye would like yer name back
again?"
"Ou ay--surely," replied Andrew.
"Well, then," said she, as she with the greatest coolness took up her
scissors that hung by her side, and with affected precision cut away
his name; "there it is"--handing it to him. And turning to the
deacon--"The rest is yours, sir--I hae nae richt to meddle wi' your
name--there's yer paper"--returning to him the mutilated bill.
At this operation the deacon stared with a stupified look of wonder
and contempt. He had never before seen so cool an example of female
rule and marital weakness; and his pride, his selfishness, and his
spite were all roused and interested by the extraordinary sight. He
was too much affected for indulging in a vulgar expression of feelings
which could not adequately be expressed by mere language. Taking up
his hat, and casting upon the boxmaster a look of sovereign contempt,
and upon Mrs Jean Todd one of anger, he bowed as low as a deacon ought
to do, and left the room. The circumstance produced no very unpleasant
consequences to either the boxmaster or his wife. She, no doubt,
reproved him for his stupidity; but the point of her wrath was turned
away by the repentance and soft words of her husband, who promised
never to do the like again. He had, besides, some defence, arising out
of her dubious conduct, which, though quite easily understood, he
could not well comprehend. The naivete of his statement, that "she
shouldna hae left him unprotected," was quite enough to have mollified
a much sterner woman than Mrs Jean Todd, and during that same night
they were a far happier couple than Deacon Waldie and his fair spouse.
When the deacon went home, and reported the extraordinary proceeding
to his obedient wife, the grief it occasioned was in some degree
overcome, on the part of the husband, by the favourable contrast it
enabled him to form between the boxmaster and his wife, and him and
his obedient spouse. Mrs Waldie did all in her power to aid the
operation; but she did not forget the bill, which her father was
pressing hard to procure.
"Surely every man's no under the rule o' his wife," said she, with the
view to leading to another cautioner.
"No, God be thanked!" said the deacon, "there are some independent men
i' the world besides mysel. Every husband's no _henpecked_. Every man
that has a wife doesna 'glory' in being 'pecked by _such_ a hen.'"
"There's William M'Gillavry," said the sly wife, in a soft and
unassuming tone; "_he_ is independent o' his wife."
"Do ye mean, Peggy, that I should get him to sign the bill?"
"Na," replied she, "I dinna say that; I merely meant that he was an
independent man like you, wha, if _ye asked_ him to do it, wouldna
refuse on such a ground as the want o' consent o' his wife. Oh, what
will my puir faither do? I canna live if he is in sorrow and
perplexity." (Weeping.) "I saw William M'Gillavry yesterday. He asked
kindly for ye. Ye haena visited him for a lang time. Twa husbands sae
like each other might meet oftener, and twa wives, wha agree in the ae
grand point o' submittin to the authority o' their lords and masters,
might, wi' advantage, be greater gossips than we hae been."
"Might I try William, think ye, Margaret?" said he.
"My puir advice canna be o' muckle avail to ye," said she; "ye ken
best yersel; but I think, _if_ he were asked, he wadna refuse the sma'
favour."
"I see you wish me to try him, Peggy," said he; "and I _will_ try
him."
Away hastened the deacon to William M'Gillavry. He found him at home;
and, as a deacon, was well received. Having opened the subject to him,
he found that M'Gillavry was not inclined to become cautioner, unless
he got put into his hands some security, that, in the event of his
being called upon to pay the money, he might, in the end, be safe.
This proposition was not expected by the deacon, who did not possess
any portable security that he could give. He endeavoured to get his
friend to be satisfied with his own obligation, to keep him scatheless
against all the effects of his obligation; but the other would not
agree to this, and, pretending to be called away by some one, left the
room for a little, promising to be back instantly. In the meantime,
the deacon heard a conflict of words in an adjoining apartment, in the
course of which several half-sentences met his ear. The wordy war was
between William M'Gillavry and his wife. Her notes were shrill and
high, and repeatedly she said--"Get my brither John's bill frae
him"--"that will do"--"he, puir fallow! canna pay't, at ony rate, and
I want to save him frae the hands o' the law." The deacon did not
understand this broken conversation; but he could easily perceive that
his friend was taking the advice of his wife. The words of old
Fleming's ballad of evil wives came into his mind:--
"An evil wyfe is the werst aught
That ony man can haif,
For he may never sit in saught
Onless he be her sklaif."
As he muttered the last words, forgetful of his own case, his friend
entered.
"My wife's brither," said he, "has a bill in your corporation's box
for L250. You can impledge that in my hands, and I'll sign yer
father-in-law's security."
"The corporation's property's no mine," answered the deacon; "I hae,
besides, nae power owre't; the bill's i' the box, and Mr Andrew Todd
has the key."
"I ken that," replied the other (who was a dishonest man), with a
knowing wink; "but ye can easily get haud o' the paper, and I'll gie
ye a back letter that I winna use't unless I'm obliged to pay yer
father-in-law's debt. Naebody will ever hear o't."
The proposition did not altogether please the deacon, who, though very
far from being an upright man, did not care about his frailty being
known to another. He said he would think of what had passed between
them, and came away. His wife, when he came home, was waiting in the
greatest anxiety. Her father had called in the meantime, and told her,
that, if he did not get the bill immediately, with two good names upon
it, he would be put in jail. This alarmed his daughter, who, if she
could save her father, cared little for the ruin of her husband. She
heard with deep anguish the announcement of another disappointment.
Having been weeping before he came in, her eyes were red and swollen,
and the bad intelligence again struck the fountain of her tears, and
made her weep and moan bitterly. The deacon was moved at the picture
of distress. He had not told her William M'Gillavry's proposition, but
only simply that he had refused, unless adequate security were put
into his hands. His wife's grief wrung from him every satisfaction he
could bestow; for he could not stand and witness the sorrow of his
tender and obedient partner, while there remained any chance of
ameliorating her anguish.
"There is ae way, Peggy, o' gettin this affair managed," said he, at
last.
"What is that?" said she, looking up, and throwing back her curls,
which, amidst all her grief, were never forgot.
"William M'Gillavry's wife's brother," said he, "is awin our
corporation L250; and his bill for that sum is in our corporation box.
He says he would sign the bill to your father, if I gave him his
brother-in-law's bill to hauld in security; but I'm no quite sure if
that wad be honest."
"Thae things lie far out o' a weak woman's way," said she. "We haena
the power o' mind possessed by you men; but, if I were entitled to
speak a word on the subject, I would say there was nae dishonesty whar
there was nae wrang. Ye ken the signin o' my faither's bill's a mere
form; and, if William M'Gillavry's brither-in-law's bill were taen out
the box, it would just be put back again. Correct me, my dear Murdoch,
if ye think me wrang."
"I dinna think ye're far wrang, Peggy," said the deacon; "but how is
William M'Gillavry's brither-in-law's bill to be got out o' our
corporation box? There's the difficulty--and I needna ask a woman how
that's to be got owre."
"Na, Murdoch--ye needna ask me that question," replied the wife. "It's
far beyond the reach o' my puir brain; but, if it's in the power o'
ony mortal man to say how a difficulty o' that kind's to be mastered,
it is in that o' Murdoch Waldie. Maybe ye may gie't a cast through yer
powerfu mind. Oh! if ye saw my distractit faither! He left me just as
you cam in, wi' the tears o' sorrow rinnin doun his auld cheeks. Will
ye think o't, my dear Murdoch?" (embracing him) "What's weel intended
canna be wrang; and what's planned by a mind like yours canna fail."
"I couldna get the key frae Andrew Todd," said the gratified deacon,
"unless I told him an untruth."
"A lee for guid has been justified," said the wife. "Rahab was
approved for hiding the spies, and denyin their presence; but I
couldna ask ye to imitate Rahab. I hae nae richt to dictate to my
husband."
"But wouldna ye _wish_ me, my dear Peggy, to stretch a point to get
yer faither's tears dried up, and yer ain stopped? Dinna hesitate,
Peggy--speak yer mind bauldly--I'll forgie ye."
"Ou ay," whimpered the gentle dame. "If Rahab was justified, sae will
Murdoch Waldie be forgiven."
"Weel--I'll try the boxmaster again," said the deacon.
Next day, accordingly, he threw himself in the way of Mr Andrew Todd.
The boxmaster had been in the corporation hall, and was returning home
to deposit the key of the box in the place where he kept it. The
deacon got him inveigled into a public-house, where, when they had
seated themselves, he saw that Mr Todd was blushing scarlet, doubtless
at the recollection of the scene that had taken place the day before.
"Ye needna be ashamed, Andrew," said the deacon, "at the conduct of
Mrs Jean Todd. _Ye_ werena to blame--I assoilzie ye. Think nae mair
o't. You can just sign a fresh bill. I'll buy the stamp round the
corner at Dickson's, and we can draw it out here."
"I beg yer pardon," replied Andrew; "I maunna get into that scrape
again. I'll never resist the authority o' Mrs Jean Todd mair on
earth. To her I owe my boxmastership--my trade--my status--my
health--my happiness--and a' that's worth livin for in this evil
warld; and she will never hae it to say again, that I'm no gratefu for
the care she taks o' me, and the love she bears to me. Let the warld
say, if they like, that I am henpecked--I dinna care."
"Weel, weel," replied the deacon; "we were speakin o' bills. Are ye
quite sure that ye haena allowed the days o' grace in Templeton's bill
to expire? There's indorsers there; and if it is as I suspect, ye've
lost recourse, and may be liable for the debt."
"Mercy on us!" cried the terrified Andrew. "It's impossible. Dinna
say't. Let me count." (Using his fingers). "Count, deacon--count,
man."
"I think we had better see the bill itsel," cried the deacon. "Where's
the key?"
"Here it is," replied the simple boxmaster, taking it out.
"Give it to me," said the deacon, taking it out of Andrew's hand;
"we'll sune see if the bill's past due."
Waldie hurried out of the room, telling Andrew, as he went out, that
he would come back, and inform him how the fact stood. The mind of the
boxmaster was now too much occupied about the danger of having allowed
the days of grace to pass without intimation to the indorsers on the
bill, to have any space left for doubting the honesty of the deacon.
The suspicion of having been cajoled never approached him; he sat and
sipped the liquor that lay before him, occupied all the time in a
brown study, with the thought continually rising--"What will Mrs Jean
Todd say to my stupidity, in making myself responsible for the amount
of Templeton's bill? It will ruin me; and a' her care and prudence
will in an instant be scattered to the winds." He still sat, expecting
the deacon to return with the required information. Half-an-hour
passed, and no deacon came; but a messenger came with a note, stating
that all was quite safe, and that, as something had occurred to
prevent the writer from returning to the tavern, he had sent that
intelligence, to ease his mind, and that he would return the key in
the course of the day. Andrew's mind was relieved by this statement;
he paid the tavern-keeper for the liquor, and went away, to resume his
ordinary occupations.
At dinner-time he went home; and, during the meal, he began talking
again about Deacon Waldie.
"After a'," said he, "he is a guid cratur, the deacon. After the usage
he got here last nicht, wha could hae thocht he wad hae taen ony
interest in my affairs?"
"Ye dinna require an assistant," replied Mrs Jean Todd, "sae lang as I
live."
"That's true," replied Andrew; "but the deacon has dune for me what ye
couldna hae dune."
"What is that?" inquired the wife.
"He apprised me o' the danger I stood in," replied the boxmaster,
"anent Templeton's bill, that's in the corporation box. I had
forgotten the date o' its becomin due, and he brocht it to my mind.
A's safe yet."
The very word "bill" made Mrs Todd prick up her ears.
"I hae lang thocht," replied she, "that yer corporation papers, at
least yer bills, which require greater care than the rest, should be
placed here, under my protection. The circumstance that has occurred
this day proves that I am richt. Let us awa to the hall this instant,
and bring hame a' the papers that are valuable, and for which you may
be responsible. Is the key on the hook?"
"No; but I'm on the hook," muttered Andrew to himself, as he began for
the first time to suspect he had been duped. "No," said he aloud.
"Give it to me, then," said she. "It will be in yer pocket, dootless."
Andrew began to exhibit symptoms of fear, which were in an instant
perceived and understood by the quick-eyed dame, who was accustomed to
_look_ for indications of that kind. She saw that something was wrong.
He remained silent, and his agitation increased as she fixed upon him
her piercing, relentless eye.
"Give me the key, man," said she, in an angry tone.
He still remained silent; his agitation increased, and he trembled in
every limb.
"There's something wrang, Andrew," said she. "Tell me what it is. I'm
no angry. By tryin to conceal it, ye may ruin us baith; by tellin me,
we may hae a chance o' bein saved. Come, now, has Deacon Waldie the
key?"
"Ay," said Andrew, in a low tone. "He asked me for't, to see if the
bill was past due, and said he would come back wi't; but he never made
his appearance."
The good dame said not a word. She saw the necessity for promptitude,
and, running to her bedroom, hurriedly dressed herself. In a few
minutes she was on her way to the corporation hall. In a few minutes
more she arrived; and, having got admittance, placed herself in a
recess, where the incorporation box was deposited, and so disposed
herself as that she might see whether any person interfered with the
treasury. In a short time Deacon Waldie entered the hall, and, with
secret furtive steps, approached the box. He looked about him, but did
not perceive the dame, who, as she saw him approach, retired back
farther into the recess. He took out the key, and applied it to the
lock. It was now time for Mrs Todd to save her husband. Starting
quickly out of the recess, she walked solemnly and dignifiedly up to
the official, before whom she presented herself with a low curtsey.
"How are you, Mr Deacon Waldie?" said she, repeating her curtsey, and
looking at him with an eye that pierced him to the heart.
The deacon, who was a great stickler for etiquette, felt himself, as
he saw the dame curtseying before him, compelled to return the
compliment; but the consciousness of guilt, the cutting satire of the
dame's courteous demeanour, the surprise at seeing her there, and his
fear of being exposed, all operated so strongly, that his bow was
checked, and transformed into a low cringe, making him appear only
half his natural size; while the consciousness of rectitude, and the
superiority of virtue, swelled out the breast of his silent accuser,
and added apparently to her physical proportions. Recovering himself
in some degree--
"I was just about to examine our corporation papers," said he,
irresolutely. "I like to assist Mr Todd in his _official_ capacity,
while _you_ keep him right in his _private_ affairs."
"Between the twa," replied the dame, without changing her countenance,
"he maun be weel taen care o'."
As she said this, she quietly and deliberately took the key out of the
lock; and into a large red cloth pocket, which hung alongside of a
pair of scissors, with which the deacon was already well acquainted
(having tested their sharpness), she deposited the important
instrument. She then made another low curtsey.
"Guid-day to ye, Mr Deacon Waldie!" she said, as she departed; "mak my
best respects to Mrs Deacon Waldie, and to her worthy father."
The deacon stood stiff with amazement, looking after the erect,
dignified figure of Mrs Jean Todd, as she walked slowly along the hall
of the incorporation to the door.
He skulked off in the best way he could; but she, with erect body and
noble carriage, directed her steps homeward, where she found her
husband in a state of intense fear and anxiety, both on account of the
danger he was exposed to, and of the meeting that was about to take
place with his wife. On the latter account, there might apparently
have been little reason for apprehension; for their meetings were very
unlike those mentioned in the old song--
"Then up scho gate ane mekle rung,
And the gudeman he made to the door;
Quoth he, 'Dame, I sall hald my tung,
For an we fecht, I'll get the woir.'"
Her mode of conducting her rule was different _toto caelo_. She walked
into the house with the same erect carriage she usually exhibited,
especially when upon duty, and closing the door after her, without
using any such jealous precaution as turning the key in the lock--a
mode of enforcing the conjugal authority she despised--she went up to
the table where her husband sat, with his hand upon his brow. That
flag of distress she paid little attention to; for she had often
before seen Andrew endeavour to make her own pity plead the cause of
his imprudence.
"Here is the key of the treasury-box, Mr Todd," said she.
Andrew was greatly relieved; but wonder took the place of his fear,
for he could not conceive how his wife could so soon have got the key
out of the hands of the deacon--and yet for certain the key was before
his eyes.
"See you that ring?" continued the dame, holding out a steel key-hoop,
on which were hung a score of keys, shining as bright as silver, from
the eternal motion to which they were exposed in the red pocket of
their mistress.
"Ay, weel do I see it," replied Andrew, "and weel do I ken't. It is by
that magic ring that a' my guids and gear are girded and prevented
frae fa'in into the staves o' that bankruptcy and ruin I threatened
this day to bring upon them."
The dame replied nothing to the remark of her husband, though she was
inwardly well pleased to see him penitent; but, opening the
spring-clasp, she deliberately placed the treasury-box key upon the
ring, along with the score of others that had hung there for a score
of years. She did not deign to accompany this act by a single word of
objurgation. Her faith rested altogether upon the ring, and to have
tried to add to the security it afforded her, by impressing her
husband with a deeper sense of his imprudence, appeared to her to be
sheer supererogation. Opening the entrance to her red "pouch," she
consigned, with a suitable admonitory jingle, the whole bunch to the
keeping of that huge conservatory of the virtues of "hussyskep." She
then resumed her ordinary duties, and Andrew was delighted to have
"got off," as he inwardly termed his relief, with so easily-borne a
reproof of his weakness and imprudence.
The circumstances we have here narrated became, some time after, known
to the public, through what channel it would be difficult to say,
although it is not improbable that the boxmaster, vain of the
protecting care of his wife, had given some hint of it, which, having
been taken advantage of by Deacon Waldie's enemies, gave rise to
reports, and latterly to a true exposition of the whole affair. The
effect of such a transaction upon the credit of any man could not fail
to be ruinous. In a very short time Deacon Waldie became suspected and
shunned--no one would trust him, few would deal with him; and, before
the termination of the period of his deaconship, he failed--falling
thus a victim to that female domination he so much dreaded, and for
submitting to which he so much despised his friend the boxmaster.
The fate of Mr Todd was signally different. At the end of the period
of his office, there was a special meeting called of the trade, for
the purpose of making a vote of thanks to their official, for saving
the incorporation-box from spoliation, and presenting him with a small
piece of plate, in commemoration of his services. This was a delicate
matter. The members knew well to whom they owed the obligation; but
they could not, in a public hall, declare that their boxmaster was
assisted in his official capacity by his wife, and, therefore, they
resolved upon taking no notice of the _real boxmaster_; who, however,
like all good wives, would be gratified by the notice that was taken
of her husband. The vote of thanks was accordingly moved by the
chairman, and supported by a very good speech. Mr Todd rose to
reply:--
"Gentlemen," he said, "ye maunna think that I am sae blind as no to
see what is yer true meanin, concealed though it be under this thick
veil o' courtesy and delicate regard to my feelins. Ye want to try to
conceal frae me that ye ken how muckle baith you and I are obliged to
a sensible and discreet woman; and ye hae twa reasons for this:
_first_, ye dinna like to acknowledge that ye are indebted to a woman
for savin frae the hands o' the spoiler the incorporation-box; and,
_secondly_, ye dinna like to say that yer boxmaster is under the
kindly care and protection o' his guidwife. Now, as to the first, I
leave it in yer ain hands; but as to the second, I will free ye frae
a' delicacy and difficulty, for I here acknowledge and declare, wi'
pride and pleasure, that Mrs Jean Todd is my counsellor and adviser in
a' my affairs, baith public and private; and mony a time she has kept
me frae that ruin whilk my ain wit and wisdom never could hae saved me
frae. I dinna need to say that it was that admirable woman wha saved
the incorporation-box: the thing is already owre the town, and
dootless kenned to ye a', and, I warrant ye, also to yer wives. Why,
then, should I accept o' honour I never wrocht for, and couldna hae
merited by a' the power and skill o' my puir abilities? 'The labourer
is worthy o' his hire.' 'Honour to him to whom honour is due.' I
therefore move that the thanks ye intended for me should be offered to
Mrs Jean Todd--to whom also, wi' your permission, I would suggest that
the piece o' silver-plate should be presented."
This speech produced much laughter throughout the hall. Some humorous
member relished the idea, and, standing up, seconded the boxmaster's
motion.
"A' our difficulty has vanished," he began; "and glad am I to see that
the honour we intended for the _real_ conservator o' our
corporation-box may be, through the noble spirit o' our _nominal_
boxmaster, communicated without the intervention o' a deputy. I second
Mr Todd's motion, because I admire his spirit, and because I rejoice
in an opportunity of doing justice to thae great conservators o' our
sex--the strong-minded, gaucy, thrifty, and loving wives o' Scotland,
to whom our very nation (if it were kenned) awes the character it has
acquired owre the face o' the earth, for its prudence, its honesty,
and its trustworthiness. Weel do I ken that the dear craturs hae
suffered for their exertions in the cause o' our sex, and their
authority has been attempted to be put an end to by drunken caitiffs,
wha, wantin the nobility o' mind to admire and _serve_ wham they canna
equal, blaw up their pot-companions against petticoat authority, by
dubbin them _henpecked_, forgettin, the wretched craturs, that that
very hen supplies often the egg, at least clocks to preserve it for
future increase. The very men the dear craturs feed, and clothe, and
protect, and cherish, sing in the pot-houses that they want their
liberty--
'Becaus their wifis hes maistery,
That they dar nawayis cheip;
Bot gif it be in privity,
Quhan thair wifis are in sleip.'
And, while the sang is birrin through the fumes o' the ale, thae very
wives are busy toilin to hae the singers weel fed, cled, and cared
for, in a' their concerns. What a noble example, on the other side o'
the question, has Mr Todd this day exhibited! Wives are generally
honoured through their husbands. He shall be honoured through his
wife. What I hae said, I believe will meet wi' the approbation o'
this meetin; but I'm no sae sure o' the success o' what comes--because
I propose to tak a sma' liberty wi' the English language, and, by a
kind o' a trope or figure o' speech, to keep the name, while we boldly
change the thing. I'm weel aware that our minutes bear that _Mr_ Todd
is our boxmaster; but we ken better than that, and we, whase trade it
is to change colours, can hae nae difficulty in reconcilin the tints.
I therefore move, as an amendment, that the piece o' plate be
presented at once to Mrs Jean Todd, _our boxmaster_."
The suggestion took; the humour was relished; the minutes were
altered; the name of Mrs Jean Todd was substituted for Mr Andrew Todd;
and the books of the incorporation bore, and bear to this day, that
the plate had been presented to Mrs Jean Todd, "_their boxmaster_," as
a memorial of the gratitude of the trade for her exertions in saving
the incorporation's treasury.