h, for there is none in whose judgment I can so much
confide, or who has shown me so much kindness.

I also send, as amusement for an idle half hour, a copy of the
regulations of our Society, some of which will, I think, be
favored with your approbation.

My {p.156} mother and sister join in compliments to aunt and
you, and also in thanks for the attentions and hospitality which
they experienced at Rosebank. And I am ever your affectionate
nephew,

WALTER SCOTT.

P. S.--If you continue to want a mastiff, I think I can procure
you one of a good breed, and send him by the carrier.

While attending Mr. Dugald Stewart's class, in the winter of 1790-91,
Scott produced, in compliance with the usual custom of ethical
students, several essays besides that to which I have already made an
allusion, and which was, I believe, entitled, On the Manners and
Customs of the Northern Nations. But this essay it was that first
attracted, in any particular manner, his Professor's attention. Mr.
Robert Ainslie,[83] well known as the friend and fellow-traveller of
Burns, happened to attend Stewart the same session, and remembers his
saying, _ex cathedra_, "The author of this paper shows much knowledge
of his subject, and a great taste for such researches." Scott became,
before the close of the session, a frequent visitor in Mr. Stewart's
family, and an affectionate intercourse was maintained between them
through their after-lives.

[Footnote 83: Mr. Ainslie died at Edinburgh, 11th April,
1838, in his 73d year.]

Let me here set down a little story which most of his friends must
have heard him tell of the same period. While attending Dugald
Stewart's lectures on moral philosophy, Scott happened to sit
frequently beside a modest and diligent youth, considerably his
senior, and obviously of very humble condition. Their acquaintance
soon became rather intimate, and he occasionally made this new friend
the companion of his country walks, but as to his parentage and place
of residence he always preserved total silence. One day towards the
end of the session, as Scott was returning to Edinburgh from a
solitary ramble, {p.157} his eye was arrested by a singularly
venerable _Bluegown_, a beggar of the Edie Ochiltree order, who stood
propped on his stick, with his hat in his hand, but silent and
motionless, at one of the outskirts of the