A blate[150] cat maks a proud mouse.  Better a toom[151] house than an ill tenant.  Jouk[152] and let the jaw[153] gang by.  Mony ane speirs the gate[154] he kens fu’ weel.  The tod[155] ne’er sped better than when he gaed his ain errand.  A wilfu’ man should be unco wise.  He that has a meikle nose thinks ilka ane speaks o’t.  He that teaches himsell has a fule for his maister.  It’s an ill cause that the lawyer thinks shame o’.  Lippen[156] to me, but look to yoursell.  Mair whistle than woo, as the souter said when shearing the soo.  Ye gae far about seeking the nearest.  Ye’ll no sell your hen on a rainy day.  Ye’ll mend when ye grow better.  Ye’re nae chicken for a’ your cheepin’[157].

I have now adduced quite sufficient specimens to convince those who may not have given attention to the subject, how much of wisdom, knowledge of life, and good feeling, are contained in these aphorisms which compose the mass of our Scottish proverbial sayings.  No doubt, to many of my younger readers proverbs are little known, and to all they are becoming more and more matters of reminiscence.  I am quite convinced that much of the old quaint and characteristic Scottish talk which we are now endeavouring to recall depended on a happy use of those abstracts of moral sentiment.  And this feeling will be confirmed when we call to mind how often those of the old Scottish school of character, whose conversation we have ourselves admired, had most largely availed themselves of the use of its proverbial philosophy.

I have already spoken of (p. 16) a Scottish peculiarity—­viz. that of naming individuals from lands which have been possessed long by the family, or frequently from the landed estates which they acquire.  The use of this mode of discriminating individuals in the Highland districts is sufficiently obvious.  Where the inhabitants of a whole country-side are Campbells, or Frasers, or Gordons, nothing could be more convenient than addressing the individuals of each clan by the name of his estate.  Indeed, some years ago, any other designation, as Mr. Campbell, Mr. Fraser, would have been resented as an indignity.  Their consequence sprang from their possession[158].  But all this is fast wearing away.  The estates of old families have often changed hands, and Highlanders are most unwilling to give the names of old properties to new proprietors.  The custom, however, lingers amongst us, in the northern districts especially.  Farms also used to give their names to the tenants[159].  I can recall an amusing instance of this practice belonging to my early days.  The oldest recollections I have are connected with the name, the figure, the sayings and doings, of the old cow-herd at Fasque in my father’s time; his name was Boggy, i.e. his ordinary appellation; his true name was Sandy Anderson.  But he was called Boggy from the circumstance of having once held a wretched farm on Deeside named Boggendreep.  He had long left it, and been unfortunate