restrictions. In the history of the country this has repeatedly been exemplified. We find it was so in the west and south-west of Scotland — in Ayrshire and Kirkcudbrightshire — during the middle and latter end of last century, when smuggling was carried on to an enormous extent, and connived at both openly and secretly by the people ; and we find it at the present day even in the Highlands, in the secret distillation of whisky, among otherwise respectable people. Excisemen and guagers in such circumstances are seldom popular. Even a Robert Burns, with all the personal attractions of his loving poetic nature, when engaged in this capacity, had difficulty at times in dispelling the fear which "the Exciseman’s" visits created. Chambers mentions as an interesting reminiscence of his father’s residence at Joppa, that among the few excise officers set to watch over the salt works, and give permits to purchasers, there was one of the name of Stobie who had done duty for the Poet during his last illness in 1796. Old Mr Chambers and Mr Stobie were on the most intimate and friendly terms, and young William Chambers records that it was to Stobie’s honour that he generously acted gratuitously for Burns at this melancholy crisis ; while he appears to have further delighted the young publisher with particulars of the Poet’s life from his acquaintance of him in Dumfries.
William Chambers describes Joppa Pans as "a small odorous place, consisting of a group of sooty buildings situated on the sea shore." "But the Sundays spent on the shore of the Firth of Forth formed a refreshing change on the ordinary course of life.” Toiling all the week in Edinburgh, he and his brother Robert were thankful to enjoy a pleasant and not uninstructive calm amidst the shell and tangle covered rocks of Joppa.
The degraded condition of the labouring population of the district, and especially of the salt workers and colliers of Joppa has already been referred to; but it is rather startling in this nineteenth century to have the evidence of slavery existing within four miles of the capital told us by an eye-witness of the fact. William Chambers’ evidence is remarkable. "The small smoke dried community of these Salt Pans,” he says, "was socially interesting. Along with the colliers in the neighbouring tiled hamlets, the salt makers — at least the elderly among them — had at one time been serfs, and in that condition they had been legally sold along with the property on which they dwelt. I conversed
