By the Forbes Mackenzie Act, all public-houses are [Illustration: THE BASS ROCK--A TRANQUIL EVENING] closed on Sunday, when, however, if all stories be true, a good deal of _shebeening_ or illicit drinking goes on in the cities. It is not unreasonable to suppose that the austerity of Scottish Sabbatarianism has driven many into vicious indulgence; and much is to be hoped from the churches taking an interest in honest amusement as a help and not a hindrance to religion. But a sneer often thrown out by strangers against the supposed hypocrisy of Scotsmen, only shows ignorance of a country where those most concerned about Sabbath observance have long been the deadliest enemies of drinking habits. Whisky, as well as golf, has now so masterfully invaded England, that this can no longer be called “Scottish Drink,” as it was not by Burns. In his day, home-brewed beer was the Lowland beverage, of which a Cromwellian soldier complained as more like brose for its thickness. Up to our day “Edinburgh Ale” made the capital’s chief contribution to the heady gaiety of nations. Whisky came in from the Highlands, its name a contraction of _uisgebeatha_, “water of life,” which Burns and Scott write _usquebaugh_, the Celtic word for water being the same that appears in so many river names _Esk_, _Usk_, _Exe_, _Axe_, and so forth. Even in the Highlands, this mountain dew would seem to have supplanted beer within historic times; and old writers admire the temperance as much as the honesty and courage of Highlanders. Both Highland and Lowland gentlemen preferred brandy, in the days when, as Lord Cockburn tells us, claret was hawked about the Edinburgh streets in a cart, a jug of any reasonable size being filled for sixpence. Firm and erect the Caledonian stood, Old was his mutton, and his claret good. Let him drink port! a beef-fed statesman cried. He drank the poison and his spirit died.