If I stay much longer at Edinburgh, I shall be changed into a downright Caledonian--My uncle observes, that I have already acquired something of the country accent. The people here are so social and attentive in their civilities to strangers, that I am insensibly sucked into the channel of their manners and customs, although they are in fact much more different from ours than you can imagine--That difference, however, which struck me very much at my first arrival, I now hardly perceive, and my ear is perfectly reconciled to the Scotch accent, which I find even agreeable in the mouth of a pretty woman--It is a sort of Doric dialect, which gives an idea of amiable simplicity--You cannot imagine how we have been caressed and feasted in the good town of Edinburgh of which we are become free denizens and guild brothers, by the special favour of the magistracy. I had a whimsical commission from Bath, to a citizen of this metropolis. Quin, understanding our intention to visit Edinburgh, pulled out a guinea, and desired the favour I would drink it at a tavern, with a particular friend and bottle-companion of his, Mr R-- C--, a lawyer of this city--I charged myself with the commission, and, taking the guinea, ‘You see (said I) I have pocketed your bounty.’ ‘Yes (replied Quin, laughing); and a headake into the bargain, if you drink fair.’ I made use of this introduction to Mr C--, who received me with open arms, and gave me the rendezvous, according to the cartel. He had provided a company of jolly fellows, among whom I found myself extremely happy; and did Mr C-- and Quin all the justice in my power; but, alas, I was no more than a tiro among a troop of veterans, who had compassion upon my youth and conveyed me home in the morning by what means I know not--Quin was mistaken, however, as to the head-ake; the claret was too good to treat me so roughly.