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subject is so horrible I dare not look it over again. Farewell. R. B. * * * * * CCCXLIV. TO JAMES GRACIE, ESQ. [James Gracie was, for some time, a banker in Dumfries: his eldest son, a fine, high-spirited youth, fell by a rifle-ball in America, when leading the troops to the attack on Washington.] _Brow, Wednesday Morning, 16th July, 1796._ MY DEAR SIR, It would [be] doing high injustice to this place not to acknowledge that my rheumatisms have derived great benefits from it already; but alas! my loss of appetite still continues. I shall not need your kind offer _this week_, and I return to town the beginning of next week, it not being a tide-week. I am detaining a man in a burning hurry. So God bless you. R. B. * * * * * REMARKS ON SCOTTISH SONGS AND BALLADS. * * * * * [The following Strictures on Scottish Song exist in the handwriting of Burns, in the interleaved copy of Johnson's Musical Museum, which the poet presented to Captain Riddel, of Friars Carse; on the death of Mrs. Riddel, these precious volumes passed into the hands of her niece, Eliza Bayley, of Manchester, who kindly permitted Mr. Cromek to transcribe and publish them in the Reliques.] * * * * * THE HIGHLAND QUEEN. This Highland Queen, music and poetry, was composed by Mr. M'Vicar, purser of the Solebay man-of-war.--This I had from Dr. Blacklock. * * * * * BESS THE GAWKIE. This song shows that the Scottish muses did not all leave us when we lost Ramsay and Oswald, as I have good reason to believe that the verses and music are both posterior to the days of these two gentlemen. It is a beautiful song, and in the genuine Scots taste. We have few pastoral compositions, I mean the pastoral of nature, that are equal to this. * * * * * OH, OPEN THE DOOR, LORD GREGORY. It is somewhat singular, that in Lanark, Renfrew, Ayr, Wigton, Kirkudbright, and Dumfries-shires, there is scarcely an old song or tune which, from the title, &c., can be guessed to belong to, or be the production of these countries. This, I conjecture, is one of these very few; as the ballad, which is a long one, is called, both by tradition and in printed collections, "The Lass of Lochroyan," which I take to be Lochroyan, in Ga
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