70 Transactions. 



great contiileiice in the parties who arc to edit and piiut lor yo\i. lu 

 all the instances of papers begun in this country l>y a number of pro- 

 prietors, I liave generally noticed that the property ultimately verged 

 towards decay until tlie majority of the proprietors, worried and teased 

 for money to carry it on, forfeited their shares, and thus condensed it in 

 the hands of their active partners. This was actually the case with the 

 Star. It was undertaken at first by not less than 24 persons. Ten of 

 these forfeited, and the remainder agreed to sell. A gentleman and 

 myself bought it, and if the whole property had not been thus vested in 

 few hands it would have ceased to exist many year's ago. Besides, the 

 business of printing a newspaper Is one of those in which a sleeping partner 

 can never see his way. I should regret, moreover, your embarking in any 

 scheme in wliich I might be expected to be of service when, from a prin- 

 ciple of delicacy, I cannot render you the assistance I could wish. Mr 



(the name is torn oxit ; he began life as an apprentice in the office of 



the Dumfries Journal) is my old master, and I never will violate the 

 respect which I have for his family. This sentiment, however, has not 

 led to the opinion given in the preceding part of this paragraph. You 

 have a right to print or publish as you j^lease, but I really believe that 

 Dumfries is not the market for two newspapers. This being my lionest 

 opinion, I know you will not be displeased with my candour, assured that 

 I am with every wish for your welfare, — My dear sir, your much obliged, 



J. Mayne. 



Mayne also sent the following poetic letter acknowledging 



the bun referred to. It is a very clever production, and is 



not, so far as Mr Wilson knows, contained in his published 



works : — 



London, 4th January, 1 809. 



In the daft days o' mirth and fun, 



The author o' the Siller Gun 



To Grierson, friendship's faithfii' son. 



This Handsel Monday, 

 Returns thanks for New'r-day bun 



Received on Sunday. 



The better day, the better meed, 

 Handsel'd by you, I'm sure to speed ; 

 Wow, man ! Ijut it be dainty bread. 



And brings to mind 

 Pleasures lang past, and friends now dead. 



Or left behind. 



When I've been skelping through the rain, 



Or hunting after news in vain, 



I'll think on Nith's sweet banks again. 



And taste your bun. 

 For pleasure, when it follows pain, 



Warms like the sun. 



