Saturday, 7 Aug. 1847
My dear Friend,
Shd. I not find you within and not see you before you start for my native land, I beg to enclose a letter to my Brother at Kelso, a dozen of miles from Abbotsford, and about the loveliest ride in the West from that place.
The whole country is haunted by history and song and wild legends. Raxburgh Castle is a mile off. Melrose, where Scott sleeps, only ten.
The Eildon Hills famous in superstition, and the tremontium of the Romans. Thomsan's birth-place two miles, Ednam. The broom af Cowdenknowes, the Braes af Jarrow, the Field af Flodden, Tweedside, and many other spots embalmed in our sanctish ballad lore. In short, there are a hundred things to delight you, and I will assure yau a hearty welcome, but should my brother, who has been unwell, have gone to a watering place for his health, my Nephew, Niece, Sisters, and Cousin Mr. W. Smith, will do their best for you.
Yrs. most truly,