In the course of these notandums, I have, here and there, touched on
divers matters that did not actually pertain to my own magisterial
life, further than as showing the temper and spirit in which
different things were brought to a bearing; and, in the same way, I
will now again step aside from the regular course of public affairs,
to record an occurrence which, at the time, excited no small
wonderment and sympathy, and in which it was confessed by many that
I performed a very judicious part. The event here spoken of, was
the quartering in the town, after the removal of that well-behaved
regiment, the Argyle fencibles, the main part of another, the name
and number of which I do not now recollect; but it was an English
corps, and, like the other troops of that nation, was not then
brought into the sobriety of discipline to which the whole British
army has since been reduced, by the paternal perseverance of his
Royal Highness the Duke of York; so that, after the douce and
respectful Highlanders, we sorely felt the consequences of the
outstropolous and galravitching Englishers, who thought it no
disgrace to fill themselves as fou as pipers, and fight in the
streets, and march to the church on the Lord's day with their band
of music. However, after the first Sunday, upon a remonstrance on
the immorality of such irreligious bravery, Colonel Cavendish, the
commandant, silenced the musicians.

Among the officers, there was one Captain Armour, an extraordinar
well demeaned, handsome man, who was very shy of accepting any
civility from the town gentry, and kept himself aloof from all our
ploys and entertainments, in such a manner, that the rest of the