“I hope you will not quarrel with my last. Believe me that, to a sound-judging, and philosophical mind this same account of Dr. and Cr., which fills up so much time in the world, is comparatively of very small value. When you get rich, unless I thrive in the same proportion, I will request your assistance for less, for little, or for nothing, as the case may require; but while I wear my seven-league boots to stride in triumph over moss and muir, it would be very silly in either of us to let a cheque twice a-year of L.25 make a difference between us. But all this we will talk over when we meet. I meditate one day a coup-de-maitre, which will make my friend’s advice and exertion essential—indeed worthy of much better remuneration. When you come, I hope you will bring us information of all my rural proceedings. Though so lately come to town, I still remember, at my waking hours, that I can neither see Tom Purdie nor Adam Paterson,* and rise with the more unwillingness. I was unwell on Monday and Tuesday, but am quite recovered. Yours truly,
