2,66 Appendix. 



spirit. The sunshine of the past years of my life brightens all 

 that may be awaiting me. I very gratefully remember that for 

 eighty years it has pleased God to grant me almost uninter- 

 rupted health. Instead, therefore, of allowing myself to reflect 

 on the present, I derive constant enjoyment from the retrospect 

 of the many happy days of 'auld langs3^ne.' 



" I was deeply affected when I read in the Times the 

 announcement of Lord Hopetoun's death. Few people know 

 what a noble-minded, kind-hearted man he v/as. I never can 

 forget the affectionate regard he always bestowed upon me. 



*' As it is always more delightful to buy than to sell horses, 

 I am glad to hear that your stalls are empty. You will, I 

 know, soon get some rusliing, impetuous animals to fill 

 them. 



"As regards Women, it is said that * if they deliberate, 

 they are lost ; ' but your horses never allow you to deliberate ; 

 so, accordingly, you find yourself well over the rails before you 

 had made up your mind to ride at them ! " 



" mvember 5th, 1873. 



" My spirit hovered over you all at your first Meet on 

 Monday. 



" I had always fancied that when the moment came 

 to say Farewell to the pig-skin, I should be a most miserable 

 creature ; but as it pleases God to temper the wind to the 

 shorn lamb, so I found, that ^Wthout the slightest effort, I was 

 able, when I sent my last horse out of my stable to put him 

 simultaneously out of my mind ; and I never think of future 

 rides, though I do of past ones. 



" On a German spring cushion, with an air one on the top of 

 it, and with another at my back to recline on, I daily drive in 

 an open carriage with my faithful old nurse — Lady Head — now 

 in her eighty-second year — by my side. Besides this, I go 

 through the fresh air at about twelve or fourteen miles an 

 hour, in a swing on my lawn, that — by means of a transverse 

 beam, a yard long, and two ropes — I can work myself, pulling 

 alternately with each hand, about as hard as a good-mouthed 

 snaffle-bridled horse. 



