"I studied at St Andrews College under the late Dr Jackson, who was an
eminent philosopher and friendly man; also under Mr Duncan, of the
Mathematical Chair, whom I regarded as a personification of unworldly
simplicity, clothed in high and pure thought; and I regularly attended,
though not enrolled as a regular student, the Moral Philosophy Class of
Dr Chalmers. Returning to Edinburgh and its university, I became
acquainted, through my friend and countryman, Robert Hogg, with R. A.
Smith, who was desirous that I should assist him with the works in which
he was engaged, particularly 'The Irish Minstrel,' and 'Select
Melodies.' Smith was a man of modest worth and superior intelligence;
peculiarly delicate in his taste and feeling in everything pertaining to
lyric poetry as well as music; his criticisms were strict, and, as some
thought, unnecessarily minute. Diffident and retiring, he was not got
acquainted with at once, but when he gave his confidence, he was found a
pleasant companion and warm-hearted friend. If, as he had sought my
acquaintance, I might have expected more frankness on our meeting, I
soon became convinced that his shyer cast arose alone from excess of
modesty, combined with a remarkable sensitiveness of feeling. Proudly
honourable, he seemed more susceptible of the influences of all sorts
that affect life than any man I ever knew; and, indeed, a little
acquaintance with him was only required to shew that his harp was strung
too delicately for standing long the tear and wear of this world. He had
done much for Scottish melody, both by fixing the old airs in as pure a
state as possible, and by adding to the vast number of these national
treasures some exquisite airs of his own. For a number of the airs in
the works just mentioned, but particularly in the 'Select Melodies,' he
had experienced difficulty in procuring suitable words, owing chiefly to
the crampness of the measures--a serious drawback which appears to
pervade, more or less, the sweetest melodies of other nations as well as
those of our own. A number of these I supplied as well as I could.

"About this time the native taste for Scottish song in city society
seemed nearly, if not altogether lost, and a kind of songs, such as
'I've been roaming,' 'I'd be a butterfly,' 'Buy a broom,' 'Cherry-ripe,'
&c. (in which if the head contrived to find a meaning, it was still such
as the heart could understand nothing about), seemed alone to be
popular, and t