Sir James Balfour appears to have had a genuine taste. His juvenile proficiency in versification is thus alluded to by the poet Leoch, or Leochæus, in his Strenæ, published in 1626, of which that entitled Janus is dedicated Generoso Juveni Jacobo Balfourio Kincardio:
Hunc tu carminibus constrictum, Jacobe, Latinis
Coge tuis numeris, quos Musa Caledonis aptat,
Et natura tibi; nam tu quoque Scotica Siren.
Panthea nostra tu est ita cultu læta Britanno,
Et meliora mea, si quid queat esse, Puella.
It appears that Balfour, who cultivated Scottish vernacular poetry, had successfully translated Leoch's Latin poem, entitled, Panthea, into that style of verse; therefore the Latinist says—
Namque ut pulchra satis, minus est mea Panthea casta;
Quum non pulchra minus, et tua casta magis.
Sir Robert Sibbald informs us that he had seen a volume containing Latin and Scottish poems by Sir James Balfour, which, however, is now lost. In its absence, the taste at least of the youthful antiquary for poetical objects of contemplation, is evinced by the following letter, extracted from a transcribed collection of his epistles in the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh. It is addressed to Lord Elcho, but has no date.
- My Lord,
Ye aske of my health and quhat I am aboute. I make a returne, by that rill issewing from the ocean of your love, that I am now taken with the plesur of the fieldes, and delyght als much in my reteired quietnes from out of the city, als your lordship does to find a drag going cole at Cameron,[1] for as that promises you for your pains riches, so does this to me healthful houres, and bountiful recreations with the Muses, quhen as I often feid my eiyes with the fruitful usery of my winter labors, much rejoysing that with healthful prosperity, you should remember your poorest freindes. Onley let me pleid for my bypast silence, since I have nothing to wreatt but foolries, which I presume to be bot harsh musicke for so wyse and weill tuned eares. Howsoever, quhen you are most idle, will ye be bot pleased to overlook this paper, in which, without aney mentall reservatione, I subscribe myselve, my lord,
Balfour also appears, at an early period of his life, to have cultivated the society of William Drummond of Hawthornden, then by far the highest poetical name in Scotland. Probably, as none of his own pieces have escaped to posterity, they were such as to render their loss no matter of regret: he must, however, have possessed the sort of qualification which we have elsewhere[2] designated as passive or negative poetry, that is, a keen perception and relish of the compositions of others, though perhaps destitute of the active power of creating good poetry himself. This seems to be evidenced by the following letters to Drummond, which breathe strongly of that ardent affection, which we are apt to entertain towards distinguished literary personages whose writings have made a deep impression upon our minds.
- "To Hawthornden,
"Sir,—That love I beare you hath mened me, with this passing bearir, to vreatt thesse few lynes, content thus in haist to salut you, in doing quhereof, altho I fulfill not the office of a frind, nevertheless I evedince the constancey of my affection. You may therfore returne something to reid: and, if necessity urge, imitat my brevity:
