No. XXXV. From MR. Gordon Castle, 31st October, 1787. SIR, IF you were not sensible of your fault as well as of your loss, in leaving this place so suddenly, I 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 ay until he was as sensible of his error as you seem to be of yours. Your * Mr. Nicol. Your song I shewed without producing the author; and it was judged by the duchess to be the production of Dr. Beattie. I sent a copy of it, by her Grace's desire, to a Mrs. M'Pherson in Badenoch, who sings Morag and all other Gaelic songs in great perfection. I have recorded it likewise, by Lady Charlotte's desire, in a book belonging to her ladyship, where it is 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. No. XXXVI. FROM The Reverend JOHN SKINNER. Linsheart, 14th November, 1787. SIR, YOUR kind return without date, but of post-mark October 25th, came to my hand only this day; and, to testify my punctuality to my poetic engagement, I sit down immediately to answer 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 tracks 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 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 VOL. II. sorry A plan of publishing a complete collection of Scottish songs, &c. E 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-familiate, 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, It |