REMINISCENCES OF A SCOTCH JOURNALIST.*

THE author of this fragmentary and digressive autobiography has written some very respectable and highly polished verses ; but in Scotland at least he is best known for a reason which he gave in the course of a brief conversation with Mr. Glad- stone. "Were you the first ? " asked Mr. Gladstone, on the occasion of his visiting Glasgow to be installed as its Lord Rector, of Mr. Hedderwick in his capacity of founder and pro- prietor of the Evening Citizen halfpenny newspaper. I was unable to reply in the affirmative. Although the matter had been simmering in my mind for upwards of a year, it was not until 1864 that I was able to carry my project into effect ; and meanwhile, two small sheets—one in South Shields and the other in Greenock—had preceded me by some days or weeks. The Citizen was, however, the first halfpenny evening paper established in any large city; and from communica- tions and consultations I had from London, Dublin, and other centres of population, I believe it was the principal precursor of that cheap afternoon Press which is now an established institution throughout the Kingdom." Mr. Hedderwick, who is only some three years younger than Mr. Gladstone himself, says very little about his professional work. But it may be inferred from the earlier of his "Back- ward Glances," that although he was born in Glasgow, it was in Edinburgh, and as a member of the staff of the Scotsman when it was under the editorship of Russel's predecessor, Charles Maclaren, that he received his journalistic training. After he started his evening paper in Glasgow, he would appear to have prospered very much after the fashion of most ordinary business men. We should say, judging entirely from these reminiscences, that he has been essentially a retiring man, who has preferred the society of a few friends of con- genial literary tastes to anything except reading and writing verse of such quality as that contained in the volume a new edition of which was noticed some time ago in the Spectator.

It would, of course, be idle to compare a book of this kind with the "chapters of autobiography "—written in such different styles—which Sc,otchmen like Scott and Cockburn left behind them. Mr. Hedderwick can hardly be said to have mingled with what was known in his younger days as" the world." He rather looked at it as a boy, perched in the branches of a tree, looks down at a garden-party in which he plays no part. But he is always entertaining, courteous, and genial. Nor is he more garrulous than an old man may be allowed to be, who ventures to break the golden Goethean rule to "cast no back- ward glances towards the past," and therefore can hardly re- frain from occasionally breaking out into a Carlylian Ay de mi Besides, it is something to go back sixty years to the time when there were stage-coaches and oil-lamps ; when it took nearly three weeks to cross the Atlantic ; when sober Edin- burgh editors fought duels ; when there was no sanitatiox to speak of ; and when dinner-parties ended very frequently in orgies. Mr. Hedderwick once saw Sir Walter doing his work

• Backward Glances; or, Some Personal Recollections. By James Header- wick, LL.D. Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood and EoLs. 1891.

—and yawning over it—as Clerk to the Court of Session in Edinburgh :—

"In a little while he rose, found his hat, and made for the door, passing close to where I sat. For a moment he paused within a few inches of me, on meeting a professional friend in gown and wig. With this gentleman he exchanged a few words whisperingly, but loud enough to enable me to hear his voice, with its soft south-country burr. Then out the great man went into the open air and street. in person he was tall and stoutly built. Attired in black dress-suit and wearing a white cravat of sundry folds, he had much the appearance of an old country clergyman. His lameness was conspicuous. In his right band he carried a strong staff, pressed it to his side, bending over it at every step, and pro- ceeded down the High Street at a leisurely pace with a lofty, swaying motion."

Mr. Hedderwick never, of course, saw Burns, though he knew two of his sons, neither of whom seems to have resembled his father in any respect. But he met with an old lady who had seen Burns, and described him as "a black-a-viced man

marked with small-pox." When some one observed that none of Burns's biographers had alluded to his having had small-pox, her reply was, that "they would never think of mentioning it, as everybody was pock-pitted then." Mr. Hedderwick has more to say of very much younger men than Scott,—of Dickens and Thackeray and Disraeli. The last he met at a private banquet given by the Lord Provost of Glasgow. Disraeli had been presented with the freedom of the city, and after the banquet his health as "Youngest

Burgess" was proposed. Mr. Hedderwick gives his charac- teristic reply : —" I rise with great pleasure on this occasion for two reasons. The first is that there are no reporters present.

I look upon the absence of reporters as the carnival of public speakers. The second reason is that my health has just been drunk as your youngest burgess. I therefore appear before you with all the prestige of youth, and I hope you will all take

an intelligent interest in my future career." Dickens Mr. Hedderwick describes as one of the finest after-dinner—or after-supper—speakers he ever listened to. At the once-

famous Eglinton Tournament, Mr. Hedderwick saw the late Napoleon III.—as Prince Louis Napoleon—getting decidedly the worst of it in a broadsword encounter. He also saw

Edmund and Charles Kean acting together in the old play of

Brutus, as the inexorable Roman father and his traitorous son, and this leads him to tell—on the authority of the late Sir Daniel Macnee, one of the best artists and raconteurs of his time in Scotland—what is out of sight the most amusing story

in the book :— " Macnee had gone to the theatre accompanied by Mr. Miller, a gentleman in business in Glasgow. Miller was a man of unusually keen feelings, and the mimic manifestation of distress proved too much for his susceptible nature. Isn't that splendid ? ' whispered Macnee. I wish to goodness I had never come,' sobbed poor Miller it's the most painful spectacle I ever witnessed. The auld man canna act. He's completely done.' More overwhelming agony on the stage, and more enthusiasm on the part of Macnee and the pit. He can hardly speak,' groaned Miller in affliction. The auld ass ! It's high time he was leaving 't to his son.' Then, with recovered firmness, he declared : The son's a capital actor. Even at the most pathetic bits he's no the least put aboot."

Of Mr. Hedderwick's Scotch friends, he seems to place the

greatest store on Charles Maclaren, sometime editor of the Scotsman, but better known on account of his scientific tastes and enthusiasm. Mr. Hedderwick seems to be greatly tickled with Maclaren's "blunt and amusing sayings." Of these he

gives some specimens. On one occasion Maclaren was met by the late Dr. Hill Burton, the historian, who, referring to some sprightly article in the Scotsman, remarked : "The Parliament

House people are giving me the credit of it." "Out of the question," said Maclaren ; "there was wit in that article." Again, when Burton offered him a sketch of a holiday tour,

Maclaren handed it back with : "That won't do, Burton. The fact is, it requires some talent for that sort of thing." But is not this merely what Maclaren's successor, Russel, would have styled "Cockney chaff" P The best portion of this book, looked at from the Scotch standpoint, consists, not of "good stories," but of descriptions of the manners and customs of the past. There is, in particular, a short chapter on "The Sensitiveness of the Celt" which is, in its way, the best in the whole volume.