Jardine writes, on 1st August:-- I have attempted, four or five times, to write to you but this poor church has, for some time past, been in such danger, that I could never find time for it. She has employed all my thoughts and care for these twelve months past. The enemy had kindled such a flame, that the old burning bush was like to have been consumed altogether. I know it will give you pleasure to hear that my endeavours to preserve her have been crowned with success. She begins to shine forth with her ancient lustre; and will very soon be, not only fair as the sun, but, to all her enemies, terrible as an army with banners.[230:1] It is pleasing to find one whose name has been so much associated with the later school of our national literature, as Mrs. Cockburn, the early friend of Scott, enjoying the intimacy of the sages of the philosophical age of Scottish letters. This accomplished lady, well known as the authoress of one of the versions of "The Flowers of the Forest," was a correspondent of Hume. A few of her letters have been preserved; and the following are her free and animated remarks on Hume's flattering reception in France,--remarks written in the full assurance that neither adulation nor prosperity would diminish the regard of that simple manly heart, for the chosen friends he had left in his native soil. From the bleak hills of the north, from the uncultured daughter of Caledon, will the adored sage of France deign to receive a few lines: they come from the _heart_ of a friend, and will be delivered by the _hand_ of an enemy. Which, O man of mode, is most indifferent to thee? Insensible thou art alike to gratitude or resentment; fit for the country that worships thee. Thou art equally insensible to love or hate. A momentary applause, ill begot, and worse brought up,--an abortion, a fame not founded on truth,--have bewitched thee, and thou hast forgot those who, overlooking thy errors, saved thy worth. Idol of Gaul, I worship thee not. The very cloven foot, for which thou art worshipped, I despise: yet I remember _thee_ with affection. I remember that, in spite of vain philosophy, of dark doubts, of toilsome learning, God had stamped his image of benignity so strong upon thy _heart_, that not all the labours of thy head could efface it. Idol of a foolish people, be not puffed up; it is easy to overturn the faith of a multitude that is ready to do evil: an apostle of less sense might bring to that giddy nation--libertinism; liberty they are not born to. This will be sent to you by your good friend, Mr. Burnet; who goes much such an errand as you have given yourself through life, viz., in search of truth; and I believe both are equally impartial in the search; though, indeed, he has more visible interests for darkening it than ever you had.