"Dear happy scenes of innocence and ease-- Scenes of my youth, when every sport could please!" Ferguson and I spent whole days together in the solitude of nature, with nothing but the deep blue and fleecy white overhead; the stunted thorn and the croaking raven above; and the brawling brook and trout-dimpled pool before us. In all games of activity I had the start of Ferguson, and was always first chosen at "King o' Cantilon," "the dools," and "shinty;" but he had the advantage again of me in feats of strength and precision of eye--in the quoits and putting-stone. But I am wandering from my purpose, and forgetting my narrative. Ferguson would often admonish me that I was giving offence to several professors, in order to gain the good opinion of one, and that the applause which my medal would procure for me might be too dearly bought at the expense of every other department of study. I took all this in good part, but without altering, in the least, my conduct, as I answered that my friend was making a virtue of necessity, and recommending that course of obscure diligence to me which he, by nature, was destined to pursue. In consequence of the _eclat_ of the medal, I had an invitation to make one of a pleasure party to Roslin, and had the happiness of being introduced to some young ladies, who had previously expressed to my friend Ferguson a wish to make my acquaintance. We spent a most delightful day-- "'Midst Roslin's bowers sae bright and bonny, And a' the sweets o' Hawthornden." The ladies were young, bright, and beautiful, light of heart, and delightfully pleasing in manners and conversation. I had not been previously accustomed to such fascinating society; and I felt that kind of intoxication which youth, innocence, and strong passion only can feel. I was all day _off_ my feet, and gave way to every manner of fun, frolic, and foolery, to show that, though I was an immense philosopher, I was still a man in every pulse and vein. There was in this happy group one divine countenance; an eye so blue, and so soft, and so penetrating--lips that moved in meaning, and held every instant communication of the most electric character, with a little playful, almost wily dimple which gave the most varied fascination to a cheek of sunshine and almost rosy hue. Her form "Was fresher than the morning rose When the dew wets its leaves--unstain'd and pure As is the lily or the mountain snow."