thing from believing in
spirit-rapping, which I scorn.

We returned as usual to Burntisland, in spring, and my father, who was
at home, took my mother and me a tour in the Highlands. I was a great
admirer of Ossian's poems, and viewed the grand and beautiful scenery
with awe; and my father, who was of a romantic disposition, smiled at my
enthusiastic admiration of the eagles as they soared above the
mountains. These noble birds are nearly extirpated; and, indeed, the
feathered tribes, which were more varied and numerous in Britain than in
any part of Europe, will soon disappear. They will certainly be avenged
by the insects.

On coming home from the journey I was quite broken-hearted to find my
beautiful goldfinch, which used to draw its water so prettily with an
ivory cup and little chain, dead in its cage. The odious wretches of
servants, to whose care I trusted it, let it die of hunger. My heart is
deeply pained as I write this, seventy years afterwards.

* * * * *

In Fifeshire, as elsewhere, political opinions separated friends and
disturbed the peace of families; discussions on political questions were
violent and dangerous on account of the hard-drinking then so prevalent.
At this time the oppression and cruelty committed in Great Britain were
almost beyond endurance. Men and women were executed for what at the
present day would only have been held to deserve a few weeks' or months'
imprisonment.[5] Every liberal opinion was crushed, men were entrapped
into the army by promises which were never kept, and press-gangs tore
merchant seamen from their families, and forced them to serve in the
navy, where they were miserably provided for. The severity of discipline
in both services amounted to torture. Such was the treatment of the
brave men on whom the safety of the nation depended! They could bear it
no longer; a mutiny broke out in the fleet which had been cruising off
the Texel to watch the movements of a powerful Dutch squadron. The men
rose against their officers, took the command, and ship after ship
returned to England, leaving only a frigate and the "Venerable,"
commanded by Admiral Duncan, with my father as his flag-captain. To
deceive the Dutch, they continued to make signals, as if the rest of the
fleet were in the offing, till they could return to England; when,
without delay, Admiral Duncan and my father went alone on board each
ship, ordered the men to arrest the ringleaders,