The want of cleanliness in the Scottish hostelries, even those of the chief towns, in the previous century, is continually referred to by English travellers in the country. Sydney Smith, while praising Scotland and its natives, among whom he made his home near the close of the eighteenth century, confessed that they ‘certainly do not understand cleanliness.’ [Sidenote: SCOTCH DRINK] The inns or change-houses in country districts remained still in a state of grievous untidiness and squalor. To many a village and little town Scott’s lines might have been applied: Baron o’ Bucklyvie, The muckle deevil drive ye, And a’ to pieces rive ye For biggin’ sic a town, Where there’s neither man’s meat, nor horse meat, Nor a chair to sit down. Nevertheless, already before railways had spread their network across the kingdom, when the country roads were more frequented than now by stage-coaches, post-carriages, and pedestrians, many modest and comfortable little inns had come into existence, and were to be met with by the roadside. These have now unhappily in great measure disappeared, or have sunk into mere public-houses, kept open only for the sake of selling drink. My impression is that proportionately much more whisky is now consumed by the artizan and labouring classes than in those days when various kinds of light or heavy ale were in demand. The ‘tippeny’ of Burns’ time, his ‘reaming swats that drank divinely,’ the ale that ‘richly brown, reams ower the brink in glorious faem,’ were still familiar forms of ‘Scotch drink.’ But nowadays the labourer no longer ‘sighs for cheerful ale’; when he enters the public-house, it is usually whisky that he calls for. In my boyhood a custom still prevailed, which I think must now be obsolete--that of placing a ‘spelding,’ or dried salt haddock, beside the glass of ale ordered by a caller at a public-house or roadside inn. Bitter beer had not yet come into vogue in Scotland. Instead of it, all the liquors supplied were of native brewing, from the light ‘tippeny,’ which was a refreshing and innocent drink, up to the strongest Edinburgh ale--a liquor which required to be quaffed with great moderation. When a few drops of it ran down the glass they glued it so firmly to the table that some force was needed to pull it off. The salt fish was, of course, served that it might provoke thirst enough to require more liquid. [Sidenote: WHISKY AND GOLF]