sea in silent admiration; his chosen companion on such occasions being
that learned artist and ardent lover of nature, Alexander Nasmyth."

A visit which the two paid to Roslin Castle is worthy of commemoration.
On one occasion my father and a few choice spirits had been spending a
"nicht wi' Burns." The place of resort was a tavern in the High Street,
Edinburgh. As Burns was a brilliant talker, full of spirit and humour,
time fled until the "wee sma' hours ayont the twal'" arrived.
The party broke up about three o'clock. At that time of the year
(the 13th of June) the night is very short, and morning comes early.
Burns, on reaching the street, looked up to the sky. It was perfectly
clear, and the rising sun was beginning to brighten the mural crown of
St. Giles's Cathedral.

Burns was so much struck with the beauty of the morning that he put his
hand on my father's arm and said, "It'll never do to go to bed in such
a lovely morning as this! Let's awa' to Roslin Castle." No sooner said
than done. The poet and the painter set out. Nature lay bright and
lovely before them in that delicious summer morning. After an
eight-miles walk they reached the castle at Roslin. Burns went down
under the great Norman arch, where he stood rapt in speechless
admiration of the scene. The thought of the eternal renewal of youth
and freshness of nature, contrasted with the crumbling decay of man's
efforts to perpetuate his work, even when founded upon a rock, as
Roslin Castle is, seemed greatly to affect him.

My father was so much impressed with the scene that, while Burns was
standing under the arch, he took out his pencil and a scrap of paper
and made a hasty sketch of the subject. This sketch was highly
treasured by my father, in remembrance of what must have been one of