The scene that opened on our hero in Edinburgh was altogether new, and in a variety of other respects highly interesting, especially to one of his disposition of mind. To use an expression of his own, he “found himself suddenly translated from the veriest shades of life,” into the presence, and indeed into the society, of a number of persons previously known to him by report as of the highest distinction in his country. From those men of letters in general his reception was particularly flattering. And they interested themselves collectively and individually in the cultivation of his genius. In Edinburgh literature and fashionable society are a good deal mixed. Our Bard was an acceptable guest in the gayest and most elevated circles, and received from female beauty and elegance those flattering attentions above all others most grateful to him. A taste for letters is not always conjoined with habits of temperance and regularity, and Edinburgh at this period contained perhaps an uncommon proportion of men of considerable talents, devoted to social excesses, in which their talents were wasted and debased.
[154]
Robert entered into several parties of this description with his usual vehemence. His generous affections, his ardent eloquence, his brilliant and daring imagination fitted him to be the idol of such associations. The sudden alteration of his habits of life operated on him physically as well as morally. The humble fare of the Ayrshire peasant he had exchanged for the luxuries of the Scottish metropolis, and naturally the effect of this change could not be inconsiderable. He saw the danger, and at times formed resolutions to guard against it, but he had embarked on the tide of dissipation and was borne along its stream. Some six months after his triumphant entrance into the city he had returned to Mossgiel for a fleeting visit to his home, and to assist his brother, who had taken upon himself the entire support of their aged mother, and who was struggling with many difficulties on the farm of Mossgiel. It will easily be conceived with what pleasure and pride he was received by his mother, his sisters, and brothers. He had left them poor and friendless; he returned to them high in public estimation and easy circumstances. He returned to them unchanged in his ardent affections, and ready to share with them to the uttermost farthing the pittance that fortune had bestowed. He had been keenly disappointed not to find Mary there. He learned, to his sorrow, that she had gone back to the Highlands shortly after he left for Edinburgh. He felt that she was[155] lost to him now forever, for, while his heart prompted him to hurry to her side, reason told him that the visit would but fill her cup of sorrow to the brim. For, believing as he did, that he was still bound to Jean in spite of the destruction of her marriage lines, he knew he would only have to part from her again, to leave her t............