My best
compliments
to Charles, our dear kinsman and fellow-saint; and
Messrs.
Messrs.
Robert Forst
Zimri Burns Ainslie, or Architophel, &c.
,
look your Bible for these two heroes, if you do this, I will repay the
compliment.
* * * * *
LXXVI.
TO MR. ROBERT MUIR.
[No Scotsman will ever read, without emotion, the poet's words in this
letter, and in "Scots wha hae wi Wallace bled," about Bannnockburn and
its glories. ]
_Stirling, 26th August, 1787. _
MY DEAR SIR,
I intended to have written you from Edinburgh, and now write you from
Stirling to make an excuse. Here am I, on my way to Inverness, with a
truly original, but very worthy man, a Mr. Nicol, one of the masters
of the High-school, in Edinburgh. I left Auld Reekie yesterday
morning, and have passed, besides by-excursions, Linlithgow,
Borrowstouness, Falkirk, and here am I undoubtedly. This morning I
knelt at the tomb of Sir John the Graham, the gallant friend of the
immortal Wallace; and two hours ago I said a fervent prayer, for Old
Caledonia, over the hole in a blue whinstone, where Robert de Bruce
fixed his royal standard on the banks of Bannockburn; and just now,
from Stirling Castle, I have seen by the setting sun the glorious
prospect of the windings of Forth through the rich carse of Stirling,
and skirting the equally rich carse of Falkirk. The crops are very
strong, but so very late, that there is no harvest, except a ridge or
two perhaps in ten miles, all the way I have travelled from Edinburgh.
I left Andrew Bruce and family all well. I will be at least three
weeks in making my tour, as I shall return by the coast, and have many
people to call for.
My best compliments to Charles, our dear kinsman and fellow-saint; and
Messrs. W. and H. Parkers. I hope Hughoc is going on and prospering
with God and Miss M'Causlin.
If I could think on anything sprightly, I should let you hear every
other post; but a dull, matter-of-fact business, like this scrawl, the
less and seldomer one writes, the better.
Among other matters-of-fact I shall add this, that I am and ever shall
be,
My dear Sir,
Your obliged,
R. B.
* * * * *
LXXVII.
TO GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ.
[It is supposed that the warmth of the lover came in this letter to
the aid of the imagination of the poet, in his account of Charlotte
Hamilton. ]
_Stirling, 28th August_, 1787.
MY DEAR SIR,
Here am I on my way to Inverness. I have rambled over the rich,
fertile carses of Falkirk and Sterling, and am delighted with their
appearance: richly waving crops of wheat, barley, &c. , but no harvest
at all yet, except, in one or two places, an old wife's ridge.
Yesterday morning I rode from this town up the meandering Devon's
banks, to pay my respects to some Ayrshire folks at Harvieston.
look your Bible for these two heroes, if you do this, I will repay the
compliment.
* * * * *
LXXVI.
TO MR. ROBERT MUIR.
[No Scotsman will ever read, without emotion, the poet's words in this
letter, and in "Scots wha hae wi Wallace bled," about Bannnockburn and
its glories. ]
_Stirling, 26th August, 1787. _
MY DEAR SIR,
I intended to have written you from Edinburgh, and now write you from
Stirling to make an excuse. Here am I, on my way to Inverness, with a
truly original, but very worthy man, a Mr. Nicol, one of the masters
of the High-school, in Edinburgh. I left Auld Reekie yesterday
morning, and have passed, besides by-excursions, Linlithgow,
Borrowstouness, Falkirk, and here am I undoubtedly. This morning I
knelt at the tomb of Sir John the Graham, the gallant friend of the
immortal Wallace; and two hours ago I said a fervent prayer, for Old
Caledonia, over the hole in a blue whinstone, where Robert de Bruce
fixed his royal standard on the banks of Bannockburn; and just now,
from Stirling Castle, I have seen by the setting sun the glorious
prospect of the windings of Forth through the rich carse of Stirling,
and skirting the equally rich carse of Falkirk. The crops are very
strong, but so very late, that there is no harvest, except a ridge or
two perhaps in ten miles, all the way I have travelled from Edinburgh.
I left Andrew Bruce and family all well. I will be at least three
weeks in making my tour, as I shall return by the coast, and have many
people to call for.
My best compliments to Charles, our dear kinsman and fellow-saint; and
Messrs. W. and H. Parkers. I hope Hughoc is going on and prospering
with God and Miss M'Causlin.
If I could think on anything sprightly, I should let you hear every
other post; but a dull, matter-of-fact business, like this scrawl, the
less and seldomer one writes, the better.
Among other matters-of-fact I shall add this, that I am and ever shall
be,
My dear Sir,
Your obliged,
R. B.
* * * * *
LXXVII.
TO GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ.
[It is supposed that the warmth of the lover came in this letter to
the aid of the imagination of the poet, in his account of Charlotte
Hamilton. ]
_Stirling, 28th August_, 1787.
MY DEAR SIR,
Here am I on my way to Inverness. I have rambled over the rich,
fertile carses of Falkirk and Sterling, and am delighted with their
appearance: richly waving crops of wheat, barley, &c. , but no harvest
at all yet, except, in one or two places, an old wife's ridge.
Yesterday morning I rode from this town up the meandering Devon's
banks, to pay my respects to some Ayrshire folks at Harvieston.
