No. LI. FROM MR. W Athole House, 13th September, 1787. YOUR letter of the 5th reached me only on those bright talents which the Almighty has | bestowed on you, be henceforth employed to the noble purpose of supporting the cause of truth and virtue. An imagination so varied and forcible as yours, may do this in many different modes; nor is it necessary to be always serious, which you have been to good purpose; the 11th; what awkward route it had taken I good morals may be recommended in a comedy, know not; but it deprived me of the pleasure or even in a song. Great allowances are due of writing to you in the manner you proposed, to the heat and inexperience of youth;-and as you must have left Dundee before a letter few poets can boast, like Thomson, of never could possibly have got there. I hope your having written a line, which, dying, they would disappointment on being forced to leave us was wish to blot. In particular, I wish you to as great as appeared from your expressions. keep clear of the thorny walks of satire, which This is the best consolation for the greatness makes a man a hundred enemies for one friend, of ours. I still think with vexation on that and is doubly dangerous when one is supposed ill-timed indisposition which lost me a day's to extend the slips and weaknesses of indivi- enjoyment of a man (I speak without flattery) duals to their sect or party. About modes of possessed of those very dispositions and talents faith, serious and excellent men have always I most admire; one differed; and there are certain curious quesYou know how anxious the Duke tions, which may afford scope to men of meta- was to have another day of you, and to let Mr. physical heads, but seldom mend the heart or Dundas have the pleasure of your conversation temper. Whilst these points are beyond hu- as the best dainty with which he could enterman ken, it is sufficient that all our sects con- tain an honoured guest. You know likewise cur in their views of morals. You will forgive the eagerness the ladies showed to detain you; but perhaps you do not know the scheme Well! what think you of good lady C.? which they devised, with their usual fertility It is a pity she is so deaf, and speaks so indis-in resources. me for these hints. One of the servants was sent to tinctly. Her house is a specimen of the man- your driver to bribe him to loosen or pull off a sions of our gentry of the last age, when hos- shoe from one of his horses, but the ambush pitality and elevation of mind were conspicuous amidst plain fare and plain furniture. I shall be glad to hear from you at times, if it were no more than to show that you take the effusions of an obscure man like me in good part. I beg my best respects to Dr. and Mrs. Blacklock, And am, Sir, Your most obedient humble servant, before the fire, and plenty of innirich, or Highland soup, prepared to conclude their meal.-The whole fa mily and their guest ate heartily, and the evening was spent as usual, in telling tales and singing songs be side a cheerful fire. Bed-time came; Omeron brushed the hearth, spread the cow hide upon it, and desired the stranger to lie down. The Earl wrapped his plaid about him, and slept sound on the hide, whilst the family betook themselves to rest in a corner of the same room. Next morning they had a plentiful breakfast, and at his departure his guest asked Cameron, if he knew TALE OF OMERON CAMERON. whom he had entertained? You may probably," IN one of the wars betwixt the Crown of Scotland answered he, " be one of the king's officers; but who and the Lords of the Isles, Alexander Stewart, Earl of ever you are, you came here in distress, and here it Mar (a distinguished character in the fifteenth cen- afforded, you are most welcome."-"Your guest, was my duty to protect you. To what my cottage tury), and Donald Stewart, Earl of Caithness, had the then," replied the other, "is the Earl of Mar: and if command of the royal army. They marched into Lochaber, with a view of attacking a body of M'Don- to the castle of Kildrummie."-" My blessing be with hereafter you fall into any misfortune, fail not to come alds, commanded by Donald Balloch, and posted upon an arm of the sea which intersects that country. Hay- you! noble stranger," said Omeron; " if I am ever in ing timely intelligence of their approach, the insur-distress, you shall soon see me." gents got off precipitately to the opposite shore in their curaghs, or boats covered with skins. The king's troops encamped in full security; but the M'Donalds, returning about midnight, surprised them, killed the Earl of Caithness, and destroyed or dispersed the whole army. The Earl of Mar escaped in the dark, without any attendants, and made for the more hilly part of the country. In the course of his flight he came to the house of a poor man, whose name was Omeron Came ren. The landlord welcomed his guest with the ut most kindness; but, as there was no meat in the house, he told his wife he would directly kill Mool Odhar, to feed the stranger. Kill our only cow!" said she, "our own and our little children's principal support!" More attentive, however, to the present call for hospitality, than to the remonstrances of his wife, or the future exigencies of his family, he killed the cow. The best and tenderest parts were immediately roasted • Mool Odhar, i. e. the brown humble cow. The royal army was soon after re-assembled; and the insurgents, finding themselves unable to make head against it, dispersed. The M'Donalds, however, got notice that Omeron had been the Earl's host, and forced him to fly the country. He came with his wife and children to the gate of Kildrummie Castle, and required admittance with a confidence which hardly corresponded with his habit and appearance. The porter told him rudely, his Lordship was at dinner, and He became noisy and impor must not be disturbed. tunate: at last his name was announced. Upon hear ing that it was Omeron Cameron, the Earl started from tical stanza," I was a night in his house, and fared his seat, and is said to have exclaimed in a sort of poemost plentifully: but naked of clothes was my bed. Omeron from Breugach is an excellent fellow!" He was introduced into the great hall, and received with been treated, the Earl gave him a four merk land near the welcome he deserved. Upon hearing how he had the castle; and it is said there are still in the country a number of Camerons descended of this Highland Eumeus. failed. Proh mirum ! The driver was incorrect, and some particular stanzas would give ruptible. Your verses have given us much universal pleasure. Let me know, however, if delight, and I think will produce their proper you incline to give them any farther touches. effect. They produced a powerful one im- Were they in some of the public papers, we mediately; for the morning after I read them, could more easily disseminate them among our we all set out in procession to the Bruar, where friends, which many of us are anxious to do. none of the ladies had been these seven or When you pay your promised visit to the eight years, and again enjoyed them there. Braes of Ochtertyre, Mr. and Mrs. Graham of The passages we most admired are the descrip- Balgowan beg to have the pleasure of conducttion of the dying trouts. Of the high falling you to the bower of Bessy Bell and Mary "twisting strength," is a happy picture of the Gray, which is now in their possession. The upper part. The characters of the birds, Duchess would give any consideration for an"mild and mellow," is the thrush itself. The other sight of your letter to Dr. Moore; we benevolent anxiety for their happiness and safe- must fall upon some method of procuring it for ty I highly approve. The two stanzas be- her. I shall enclose this to our mutual friend ginning "Here haply too"-darkly dashing is Dr. B- who may forward it. I shall be most descriptively Ossianic. extremely happy to hear from you at your first leisure. Enclose your letter in a cover addressed to the Duke of Athole, Dunkeld. God bless you, J. SIR, - No. LII. M FROM MR. A W Here I cannot deny myself the pleasure of mentioning an incident which happened yesterday at the Bruar. As we passed the door of a most miserable hovel, an old woman curtsied to us with looks of such poverty, and such contentment, that each of us involuntarily gave her some money. She was astonished, and in the confusion of her gratitude, invited us in. Miss C. and I, that we might not hurt her delicacy, entered-but, good God, what wretchedness! 6th October, 1787. It was a cow-house-her own cottage had been burnt last winter. The poor old creature stood HAVING just arrived from abroad, I had your perfectly silent-looked at Miss C. then to the poems put into my hands: the pleasure I re money, and burst into tears-Miss C. joined ceived in reading them, has induced me to soher, and, with a vehemence of sensibility, took licit your liberty to publish them amongst a out her purse, and emptied it into the old wonumber of our countrymen in America, (tc man's lap. What a charming scene!-A sweet which place I shall shortly return), and where they will be a treat of such excellence, that i accomplished girl of seventeen in so angelic a situation! Take your pencil and paint her in would be an injury to your merit and their feelyour most glowing tints.-Hold her up amidst ing to prevent their appearing in public. the darkness of this scene of human woe, to the Receive the following hastily-written lines icy dames that flaunt through the gaieties of life, from a well-wisher. without ever feeling one generous, one great emotion. Two days after you left us, I went to Taymouth. It is a charming place, but still I think art has been too busy. Let me be your Cicerone for two days at Dunkeld, and you will acknowledge that in the beauties of naked nature we are not surpassed. The loch, the Gothic arcade, and the fall of the hermitage, gave me most delight. But I think the last has not been taken proper advantage of. The hermitage is too much in the common-place style. Every body expects the couch, the bookpress, and the hairy gown. The Duke's idea I think better. A rich and elegant apartment is an excellent contrast to a scene of Alpine horrors. I must now beg your permission (unless you have some other design) to have your verses printed. They appear to me extremely cor "The humble petition of Bruar-Water to the Duke of Athole." FAIR fa' your pen, my dainty Rob, Your leisom way o' writing, Their words are wondrous bonny, Wi' you this day. Poor Mailie, troth, I'll nae but think, But, wae's me, how dare I fin' faut, Wha great an' sma's begun to daut, And tak' him by the gardie; It's fair to praise ilk canty callan, If he but tries to raise as Allan, Auld Scotia's bonny name; To you, therefore, in humble rhyme, And tho' it's but a swatch of thine, Frae Jock o' Groats to bonny Tweed, In ilka place where Scotsmen bleed, There shall your bardship shine; On ony day. Feart that my cruicket verse should spairge I'se nae mair o' this head enlarge, Lang may you live, lang may you write, And sing like English Weischell, This prayer I do myself indite, up the ghost of Joseph MD. to infuse into our bard a portion of his enthusiasm for those neglected airs, which do not suit the fastidions musicians of the present hour. But if it be true that Corelli (whom I looked on as the Homer of music) is out of date, it is no proof of their taste;-this, however, is going out of my province. You can show Mr. Burns the manner of singing these same luinigs; and, if he can humour it in words, I do not despair of seeing one of them sung upon the stage, in the original style, round a napkin. I am very sorry we are likely to meet so seldom in this neighbourhood. It is one of the greatest drawbacks that attends obscurity, that one has so few opportunities of cultivating acquaintances at a distance. I hope, however, some time or other, to have the pleasure of beating up your quarters at Erskine, and of hauling you away to Paisley, &c. ; meanwhile I beg to be remembered to Messrs. Boog and Mylne. If Mr. B. goes by ―, give him a billet on our friend Mr. Stuart, who, presume, does not dread the frown of his diocesan. I am, Dear Sir, Your most obedient humble servant, No. LIV. J. RAMSAY. FROM MR. RAMSAY, ΤΟ From yours still, A M This very day. No. LIII. FROM MR. J. RAMSAY, TO THE REVEREND W. YOUNG, AT ERSKINE. sure. DEAR SIR, Ochtertyre, 22d Oct. 1787. ALLOW me to introduce Mr. Burns, whose You may tell Mr. Burns, when you see him, poems, I dare say, have given you much plea- that Colonel Edmonstoune told me t'other day, Upon a personal acquaintance, I doubt that his cousin, Colonel George Crawford, was not, you will relish the man as much as his no poet, but a great singer of songs; but that works, in which there is a rich vein of intel- his eldest brother Robert (by a former marriage) lectual ore. He has heard some of our High- had a great turn that way, having written the land luinigs or songs played, which delighted words of The Bush aboon Traquair, and him so much that he has made words to one Tweedside. That the Mary to whom it was or two of them, which will render these more addressed was Mary Stewart of the Castlemilk popular. As he has thought of being in your family, afterwards wife of Mr. John Relches. quarter, I am persuaded you will not think it The Colonel never saw Robert Crawford, though labour lost to indulge the poet of nature with a he was at his burial fifty-five years ago. He sample of those sweet artless melodies, which was a pretty young man, and had lived long in only want to be married (in Milton's phrase) France. Lady Ankerville is his niece, and may to congenial words. I wish we could conjure] know more of his poetical vein. An epitaph nonger like me might moralize upon the vanity | took such uncommon pains to instil into your af life, and the vanity of those sweet effusions. minds from your earliest infancy May you live -But I have hardly room to offer my best com- as he did! if you do, you can never be unhappy, pliments to Mrs. Blacklock; and I am, Dear Doctor, Your most obedient humble servant, J. RAMSAY. I feel myself grown serious all at once, and affected in a manner I cannot describe. I shall only add, that it is one of the greatest pleasures I promise myself before I die, that of seeing the family of a man whose memory I revere more than that of any person that ever I was acquainted with. I am, my dear Friend, Yours sincerely, JOHN MURDOCH, tance. No. LV. FROM MR. JOHN MURDOCH. ago; No. LVI. FROM MR. If you were not sensible of your fault as well as of your loss in leaving this place so suddenly, should condemn you to starve upon cauld kail for ae towmont at least; and as for Dick Latine, your travelling companion, without banning him wi' a' the curses contained in your letter, (which he'll no value a bawbee), I should give him nought but Stra'bogie castocks to chew for sax ouks, or aye until he was as sensible of his error as you seem to be of yours. MY DEAR SIR, London, 28th Oct. 1787. As my friend, Mr. Brown, is going from this place to your neighbourhood, I embrace the opportunity of telling you that I am yet alive, toerably well, and always in expectation of being better. By the much-valued letters before me, I see that it was my duty to have given you this intelligence about three years and nine months. SIR, Gordon Castle, 31st October, 1787. and have nothing to allege as an excuse but that we poor, busy, bustling bodies in London, are so much taken up with the various pursuits in which I we are here engaged, that we seldom think of any person, creature, place, or thing, that is absent. But this is not altogether the case with me; for I often think of you, and Hornie, and Russel, and an unfathomed depth, and lowan brunstane, all in the same minute, although you and they are (as I suppose) at a considerable disI flatter myself, however, with the pleasing thought, that you and I shall meet some time or other either in Scotland or England. Your song I showed without producing the If ever you come hither, you will have the satis-author; and it was judged by the Duchess to be faction of seeing your poems relished by the Ca- the production of Dr. Beattie. I sent a copy of ledonians in London, full as much as they can it, by her Grace's desire, to a Mrs. M'Pherson be by those of Edinburgh. We frequently re- in Badenoch, who sings Morag and all other peat some of your verses in our Caledonian so- Gaelic songs in great perfection. I have reciety; and you may believe, that I am not a corded it likewise, by Lady Charlotte's desire, little vain that I have had some share in culti-in a book belonging to her ladyship, where it is vating such a genius. I was not absolutely certain that you were the author, till a few days ago, when I made a visit to Mrs. Hill, Dr. M'Comb's eldest daughter, who lives in town, and who told me that she was informed of it by a letter from her sister in Edinburgh, with whom you had been in company when in that capital. Pray let me know if you have any intention of visiting this huge, overgrown metropolis? It would afford matter for a large poeni. Here you would have an opportunity of indulging your vein in the study of mankind, perhaps to a greater degree than in any city upon the face of the globe; for the inhabitants of London, as you know, are a collection of all nations, kindreds, and tongues, who make it, as it were, the centre of their commerce. Present my respectful compliments to Mrs. Burns, to my dear friend Gilbert, and all the rest of her amiable children. May the Father of the universe bless you all with those principles and dispositions that the best of parents in company with a great many other poems and verses, some of the writers of which are no less eminent for their political than for their poetical abilities. When the Duchess was informed that you were the author she wished you had written the verses in Scotch. Any letter directed to me here will come to hand safely, and, if sent under the Duke's cover, it will likewise come free; that is, as long as the Duke is in this country. I am, Sir, yours sincerely. No. LVII. FROM THE REV. JOHN SKINNER. spew, And quo' the wee wifeikie, I wish I binna fou, I have heard of another new composition, by a young ploughman of my acquaintance, that I am vastly pleased with, to the tune of The humours of Glen, which I fear won't do, as the music, I am told, is of Irish original. I have mentioned these, such as they are, to show my readiness to oblige you, and to contribute my mite, if I could, to the patriotic work you have in hand, and which I wish all success to. You have only to notify your mind, and what you want of the above shall be sent you. etic engagement, I sit down immediately to an- It took upo' the wife's heart, and she began to swer it in kind. Your acknowledgment of my poor but just encomiums on your surprising genius, and your opinion of my rhyming excursions, are both, I think, by far too high. The difference between our two tracts of education and ways of life is entirely in your favour, and gives you the preference every manner of way. I know a classical education will not create a versifying taste, but it mightily improves and assists it; and though, where both these meet, there may sometimes be ground for approbation, yet where taste appears single, as it were, and neither cramped nor supported by acquisition, I will always sustain the justice of its prior claim to applause. A small portion of taste, this way, I have had almost from childhood, especially in the old Scottish dialect: and it is as old a thing as I remember, my fondness for Christ kirk o' the Green, which I had by heart ere I was twelve years of age, and which, some years ago, I attempted to turn into Latin verse. While I was young, I dabbled a good deal in these things; but, on getting the black gown, I gave it pretty much over, till my daughters grew up, who, being all good singers, plagued me for words to some of their favourite tunes, and so extorted these effusions, which have made a public appearance beyond my expectations, and contrary to my intentions, at the same time that I hope there is nothing to be found in them uncharacteristic, or unbecoming the cloth, which I would always wish to see respected. As to the assistance you propose from me in the undertaking you are engaged in,* I am sorry I cannot give it so far as I could wish, and you, perhaps, expect. My daughters, who were my only intelligencers, are all foris fumiliate, and the old woman their mother has lost that taste. There are two from my own pen, which I might give you, if worth the while. One to the old Scotch tune of Dumbarton's Drums. The other perhaps you have met with, as your noble friend the Duchess has, I am told, heard of it. It was squeezed out of me by a brother parson in her neighbourhood, to accommodate a new Highland reel for the Marquis's birth-day, to the stanza of "Tune your fiddles, tune them sweetly," &c. If this last answer your purpose, you may have it from a brother of mine, Mr. James Skinner, writer in Edinburgh, who, I believe, can give the music too. There is another humorous thing, I have heard said to be done by the Catholic priest Geddes, and which hit my taste much : "There was a wee wifeikie was coming frae the fair, Had gotten a little drapikie, which bred her meikle care; Meantime, while you are thus publicly, I may say, employed, do not sheath your own proper and piercing weapon. From what I have seen of yours already, I am inclined to hope for much good. One lesson of virtue and morality, delivered in your amusing style, and from such as you, will operate more than dozens would do from such as me, who shall be told it is our employment, and be never more minded : whereas, from a pen like yours, as being one of the many, what comes will be admired. Admiration will produce regard, and regard will leave an impression, especially when example goes along. Now binna saying I'm ill bred, Maun aye be harland in their trade, Wishing you from my poet-pen, all success, and in my other character, all happiness and heavenly direction, SIR, I remain, with esteem, Your sincere friend, JOHN SKINNER. No. LVIII. FROM MRS. ROSS. Kilravock Castle, 30th Nov. 1787. I HOPE you will do me the justice to believe, that it was no defect in gratitude for your punctual performance of your parting promise, that has made me so long in acknowledging it, but merely the difficulty I had in getting the Highland songs you wished to have, accurately noted; they are at last enclosed: but how shall I convey along with them those graces they acquired from the melodious voice of one of the fair spirits of the hill of Kildrummie! These I It • "A plan of publishing a complete collection of must leave to your imagination to supply. Scottish Songs," &c. has powers sufficient to transport you to her |