TO MR. THOMSON.
[The blank in this letter could be filled up without writing treason: but nothing has been omitted of an original nature.]
July, 1794.
Is there no news yet of Pleyel? Or is your work to be at a dead stop, until the allies set our modern Orpheus at liberty from the savage thraldom of democrat discords? Alas the day! And woe is me! That auspicious period, pregnant with the happiness of millions. * * * *
I have presented a copy of your songs to the daughter of a much-valued and much-honoured friend of mine, Mr. Graham of Fintray. I wrote on the blank side of the title-page the following address to the young lady:
Here, where the Scottish muse immortal lives, &c.[257]
R. B.