happening to be on the pier, said, "Ou, Neil, is this you?" "Whisht man,' I
answered Neil, with a sly expression, "let me land or ye ca' me Neil; I hae
got naething but Maister a' the way o'er."
There are few professions where persons are more exposed or tempted to habits of indulgence in liquor, than those whose calling it is to minister music to the midnight and morning revel. The fatigue of playing for hours in crowded and heated rooms—at those times, too, which are usually devoted to sleep—requires stimulants; and not a few have fallen victims to habits acquired in such situations. But, though exposed to these temptations as much as any man ever was, Neil Gow was essentially sober and temperate. He never indulged in unmixed spirits, and when at home, without company, seldom took any drink but water. At the same time, he was of a social disposition, and delighted in the interchange of friendly and hospitable intercourse; and it befits not the truth of our chronicle to deny, that prudence, though often a conqueror, did not on every occasion gain the race with good fellowship, or in plain words, that Neil did not find, at the close of some friendly sederunts, "the maut aboon the meal." At least we would infer as much, from an anecdote that has been told of him—Returning pretty early one morning from Ruthven Works, where he had been attending a yearly ball, he was met with his fiddle under his arm, near the bridge of Almond, by some of his friends who lamented the length of the road he had to walk to Inver, when Neil exclaimed, "Deil may care for the length o' the road, it's only the breadth o't that's fashin' me now." It was, perhaps, with reference to the same occasion, that a friend said to him, " I suspect Neil, ye've been the waur o' drink." "The waur o' drink?" responded the musician, "na! na, I may have been fou, but I ne'er was the waur o't" His son Nathaniel frequently sent him presents of shrub and ale. In acknowledging one of them, he wrote, " I received the box and twenty bottles of ale, which is not good,—more hop than faith—too strong o' the water, &c. My compliments to Meg, and give her a guinea, and ask her which of the two she would accept of first."
He was a man most exemplary in all the private relations of life—a faithful husband, an affectionate parent, and a generous friend. In more cases than one, he refused lands which were offered to him at a trifling purchase, and which would have been worth thousands to his successors, and chose the more disinterested part, of giving money to the unfortunate owners to enable them to purchase their lands back. He not only had religion in his heart, but was scrupulous in his external observances. He was constant in his attendance at divine worship, and had family prayers evening and morning in his own house. In regard to his private character altogether, we may quote from a very elegant biographical sketch from the pen of Dr Macknight, who knew him well, and which appeared in the Scots Magazine in 1809. "His moral and religious principles were originally correct, rational, and heartfelt, and they were never corrupted. His duty in the domestic relations of life, he uniformly fulfilled with exemplary fidelity, generosity, and kindness. In short, by the general integrity, prudence, and propriety of his conduct, he deserved, and he lived and died possessing as large a portion of respect from his equals, and of good will from his superiors, as has ever fallen to the lot of any man of his rank."
In a professional point of view, Neil Gow is to be judged according to circumstances. He never had the advantage of great masters, and indeed was almost entirely self-taught. It would be idle to inquire what he might have been had he devoted himself to the science as a study. He did not, so far as is known, attempt the composition of difficult or concerted pieces ; and it is believed, did not do much even in the way of arrangement to his own melodies.
