and what often appears to them, capricious, autho rity. While under Mr Millar's care, all his pupils were treated alike; or rather the differences which might be remarked in his attentions, were the consequence of superior talents or application, never of superior rank. When they left his house, his connection with most of them necessarily ceased. He was always delighted, indeed, to hear of their success or eminence; but his regular occupations rendered it impossible for him to continue an epistolary correspondence; and his proud independence of mind made him rather decline, than cultivate, the friendship of those who succeeded to honours, or rose to power.

Such were his regular and stated occupations, during the winter. For some years after he was settled in Glasgow, he was in the habit of spending great part of the summer with his father at Hamilton; but, as his family increased, this became more inconvenient; and his uncle, ever attentive to his comfort, gave him a small farm near the village of Kilbride, about seven miles from Glasgow.

The farm of Whitemoss consisted of about thirty acres of very indifferent land, lying in a climate no way genial. Such circumstances, however, did not prevent him from feeling all the ardour of an improver. Many a scheme did he devise for rais

ing crops, and clothing his fields with verdure; and, though these schemes were never very successful, they were carried on at little expence, served to amuse his leisure, and, to a certain degree, diminished the natural bleakness immediately round his house.

His life at Whitemoss was very uniform; but, occupied with the cultivation of his little farm, interested in his studies, and surrounded by his family, he felt no languor, and desired no variety. He had few neighbours, and visited them very seldom. With Sir William Maxwell of Calderwood, to whose lady Mrs Millar was distantly related, he always lived on terms of friendship; and with Dr and Mrs Baillie, on a footing of intimacy. Dr Baillie, after being elected Professor of Divinity, resided, during the summer, at Long Calderwood, about a mile from Whitemoss; and, after his death, his widow and daughters made it their abode for several years. Their society added much to Mr Millar's enjoyments and to those of his family; the young people were together almost every day; their time of life and amusements were the same; and the celebrity which Dr Baillie of London afterwards acquired in his profession, the universal admiration which his sister has secured by her

fs

Dramatic Compositions, have been sources of the purest pleasure to their early friends.

In the year 1784, Mr Millar's uncle, who had ever been most kind and attentive to him, from unwillingness to prevent improvements of which Milheugh was very capable, but which he was much too old either to direct or even altogether to approve, went to reside with his brother at Hamilton; where he remained till his death, which happened in the following year. The two old men had, during the whole of their lives, been very strongly attached to each other, and had often been heard to wish that the fate of two brothers who had died in Hamilton, within a few days of each other, might also be theirs. In this wish they were not disappointed. The old clergyman, after his brother's death, became uneasy and restless, but could not be prevented from attending the funeral. Being so near Milheugh, he took a last view of the scenes of his infancy, and, with singular liberality of mind, gave his approbation to alterations which had swept away many objects of his early partiality. The agitation of his mind, the want of sleep, and the heat of the weather overpowered him. By the time he returned to Hamilton, symptoms of an inflammatory fever had appear

ed, and, in a few days, he followed his beloved brother to the grave.

Milheugh possesses many natural beauties. It consists of several small meadows, separated from each other by the Calder, a little stream which winds among them, sometimes skirting, at other times intersecting, the valley. The bushes which fringe the edges of the rivulet, and a number of large trees standing near the house, and shading several of the principal walks, give great richness to the scene, while the steep banks, which rise from each side of the valley, suggest ideas of retirement and seclusion. But, when Mr Millar came to Milheugh, there was much to alter and improve. He removed many formal hedges, which subdivided the little meadows, or, by stiff unbending lines, marked too distinctly the course of the rivulet. He formed the old orchard into pleasing groupes of trees around the house; left bushes irregularly scattered on the banks of the stream; and carried plantations along the top of the banks. Every thing throve in this sheltered situation, and Milheugh is now one of the sweetest little retirements that could be desired. Its beauties are elegant and simple, and perhaps it would be difficult to point farther embellishments that would accord

out any

with the character of the place.

the

For some time, Mr Millar's summers were altogether devoted to his improvements. Every tree that was planted, still more every bush that was cut down, was the subject of many consultations with his family: The direction of a path, the opening up of a new view, or the discovery of a new object in one of his prospects, engrossed the whole of his mind: and, when he could not enjoy these higher pleasures, he watched, with delight, progress of his young plantations, and enjoyed, by anticipation, the future beauties of his plans. By degrees, as his improvements were completed, Milheugh occupied less of his attention; but it never ceased to interest and delight him. It was endeared to him by no common ties; it had been the scene of his early years, and was now embellished by his mature taste: in one view, it was associated with his most pleasing recollections; in another, it might almost be considered as the pro duction of his own mind.

Mr Millar's intercourse with his neighbours was scarcely more frequent at Milheugh, than it had been at Whitemoss. He was, indeed, no way dependent on society; but he was fond of the occasional visits of his acquaintances, and of the variety arising from the addition of a few strangers to the family circle. He was therefore much gratified,