WRITES TO ROSS. 99 



During the brief interval between the building of 

 Aunt Jenny's cottage and his first engagement as a jour- 

 neyman, he writes to William Ross, now in Edinburgh, 

 and copies out for him a selection of his poems. The 

 letter is not without interest from the enthusiasm of its 

 affection for the friend to whom it is addressed. 



' I have long since promised you copies of all my 

 little poetical pieces which you were so good-natured as 

 to approve of, and I now send you them. I am too vain 

 to forget how much you used to praise them ; but was it 

 not as the productions of a half-taught boy that you did 

 so ? and if you loved them, was it not merely because they 

 were written by your friend ? I now see that many of 

 them are extremely juvenile, and this could not have 

 escaped you; but I dare say you did best in not telling me 

 so. I would have been disheartened, and have perhaps 

 stood still. And yet even now, when I see many of their 

 faults, like a true parent, I love them notwithstanding ; 

 but it is more for the sake of the association connected 

 with them than for their own sakes. Some of them were 

 composed among the rocks of my favourite hill when I 

 played truant ; some of them in Marcus cave, when the 

 boys who had chosen me for their leader were engaged 

 in picking shell-fish from the skerries for our dinner ; some 

 of them in the work-shed, some in the barrack. And 

 thus, like the purse of Fortunatus, which was made of 

 leather but produced gold, though not rich in themselves 

 they are full of riches to me. They are redolent of the 

 past and of you ; remember how I used to run to your 

 closet with every piece the moment I had finished it, 

 that you might say something in its favour. You were 

 the whole public for whom I wrote. You will not deem 

 me paradoxical when I say that the pieces I send you are 

 full of scenery and character, though poor in description 



