I am quite aware, Madam, what task | male and female-We have discovered a the world would assign me in this letter. certain ***, nefarious, abominable, and The obscure bard, when any of the great Wicked SONG, or BALLAD, a copy wherecondescend to take notice of him, should of We have here enclosed; OUR WILL heap the altar with the incense of flatte- THEREFORE IS, that YE pitch upon and ry. Their high ancestry, their own great appoint the most execrable Individual of and godlike qualities and actions, should that most execrable Species, known by be recounted with the most exaggerated the appellation, phrase, and nickname of description. This, Madam, is a task for THE DEIL'S YELL NOWTE ;* and, after which I am altogether unfit. Besides a having caused him to kindle a fire at the certain disqualifying pride of heart, I know CROSS of AYR, ye shall at noontide of nothing of your connexions in life, and have the day, put into the said wretch's merno access to where your real character ciless hands the said copy of the said neis to be found the company of your com- farious and wicked Song, to be consumed peers; and more, I am afraid that even by fire in the presence of all Beholders, the most refined adulation is by no means in abhorrence of, and terrorum to all such the road to your good opinion. COMPOSITIONS and COMPOSERS. And this in no wise leave ye undone, but have it executed in every point as this OUR MAN DATE bears before the twenty-fourth cur rent, when IN PERSON We hope to ap plaud your faithfulness and zeal. One feature of your character I shall ever with grateful pleasure rememberthe reception I got when I had the honour of waiting on you at Stair. I am little acquainted with politeness; but I know a good deal of benevolence of temper and goodness of heart. Surely, did those in exalted stations know how happy they could make some classes of their inferiors by condescension and affability, they would never stand so high, measuring out with every look the height of their elevation, but condescend as sweetly as did Mrs. Stewart of Stair. GIVEN at MAUCHLINE, this twentieth day of November, Anno Domini one thousand seven hundred and eighty-six.f GOD SAVE THE BARD! No. VI. No. VII. DR. BLACKLOCK TO THE REVEREND MR. G. REVEREND AND DEAR SIR, IN THE NAME OF THE NINE. AMEN. WE ROBERT BURNS, by virtue of a War- I OUGHT to have acknowledged your rant from NATURE, bearing date the favour long ago, not only as a testimony Twenty-fifth day of January, Anno Do- of your kind remembrance, but as it gave mini one thousand seven hundred and fif-me an opportunity of sharing one of the ty-nine,* POET-LAUREAT and BARD IN CHIEF in and over the Districts and Countries of KYLE, CUNNINGHAM, and CARRICK, of old extent, To our trusty and well-beloved WILLIAM CHALMERS and JOHN M'ADAM, Students and Practitioners in the ancient and mysterious Science of CONFOUNDING RIGHT and WRONG. finest, and, perhaps, one of the most genuine entertainments, of which the human mind is susceptible. A number of avocations retarded my progress in reading the poems; at last, however, I have finished that pleasing perusal. Many instances have I seen of Nature's force and beneficence exerted under numerous and formidable disadvantages; but none equal to that with which you have been kind enough to present me. There is a pathos and delicacy in his serious poems, a vein of wit and humour in those of a more festive turn, which cannot be too much admired, nor too warmly approved; and I think I shall never Old Bachelors. ↑ Enclosed was the ballad, probably Holy Willie Prayer E open the book without feeling my aston- | rising fame, and I wish and expect it may ishment renewed and increased. It was tower still higher by the new publication. my wish to have expressed my approba- But, as a friend, I warn you to prepare to tion in verse; but whether from declining meet with your share of detraction and life, or a temporary depression of spirits, envy-a train that always accompany it is at present out of my power to accom- great men. For your comfort I am in plish that agreeable intention. great hopes that the number of your friends and admirers will increase, and that you have some chance of ministerial, or even ***** patronage. Now, my friend, such rapid success is very uncom danger of suffering by applause and a full purse? Remember Solomon's advice, which he spoke from experience, "stronger is he that conquers," &c. Keep fast hold of your rural simplicity and purity, like Telemachus, by Mentor's aid, in Calypso's isle, or even in that of Cyprus. I hope you have also Minerva with you. I need not tell you how much a modest diffidence and invincible temperance adorn the most shining talents, and elevate the mind, and exalt and refine the imagination, even of a poet. Mr. Stewart, Professor of Morals in this University, had formerly read me three of the poems, and I had desired him to get my name inserted among the sub-mon: and do you think yourself in no scribers; but whether this was done, or not, I never could learn. I have little intercourse with Dr. Blair, but will take care to have the poems communicated to him by the intervention of some mutual friend. It has been told me by a Gentleman, to whom I showed the performances, and who sought a copy with diligence and ardour, that the whole impression is already exhausted. It were, therefore, much to be wished, for the sake of the young man, that a second edition, more numerous than the former, could immediately be printed as it appears certain that its intrinsic merit and the exertion of the author's friends, might give it a more universal circulation than any thing of the kind which has been published within my memory.* I hope you will not imagine I speak from suspicion or evil report. I assure you I speak from love and good report, and good opinion, and a strong desire to see you shine as much in the sunshine as you have done in the shade; and in the practice, as you do in the theory of vir tue. This is my prayer, in return for your elegant composition in verse. All here join in compliments and good wishes for your further prosperity. No. IX. TO MR. CHALMERS. Edinburgh, 27th Dec. 1786. MY DEAR FRIEND, I CONFESS I have sinned the sin for which there is hardly any forgivenessingratitude to friendship-in not writing you sooner; but of all men living, I had I rejoice to hear, from all corners, of your intended to send you an entertaining let *The reader will perceive that this is the letter which produced the determination of our Bard to give up his scheme of going to the West Indies, and to try the fate of a new Edition of his Poems in Edinburgh. A copy of this letter was sent by Mr. Lowrie to Mr. G. Hamilton, and by him communicated to Burns, among whose papers it was found. For an account of Mr. Lowrie and his family, see the letter of Gilbert Burns to the Editor. ter; and by all the plodding stupid powers that in nodding conceited majesty preside over the dull routine of business-a heavily solemn oath this!-I am, and have been ever since I came to Edinburgh as unfit to write a letter of humour as to write a commentary on the Revelations. To make you some amends for what, before you reach this paragraph you will have suffered, I enclose you two poems I have carded and spun since I passed Glenbuck. One blank in the address to Edinburgh, "Fair B-," is the heavenly Miss Burnet, daughter to Lord Monboddo, at whose house I had the honour to be more than once. There has not been any thing nearly like her, in all the comEnations of beauty, grace, and goodness, the great Creator has formed, since Milton's Eve on the first day of her existence. I have sent you a parcel of subscriptionbills; and have written to Mr. Ballantyne and Mr. Aiken, to call on you for some of them, if they want them. My direction is-care of Andrew Bruce, Merchant, Bridge-street. No. X. TO THE EARL OF EGLINTON. MY LORD, As I have but slender pretensions to philosophy, I cannot rise to the exalted ters. No. XI TO MRS. DUNLOP. Edinburgh, 15th January, 1787. MADAM, YOURS of the 9th current, which I am proach to me for ungrateful neglect. I this moment honoured with, is a deep rewill tell you the real truth, for I am miserably awkward at a fib; I wished to have written to Dr. Moore before I wrote to you; but though, every day since I received yours of December 30th, the idea, the wish to write to him, has constantly pressed on my thoughts, yet I could not for my soul set about it. I know his fame and character, and I am one of "the sons of little men. "To write him a mere matter-of-fact affair, like a merchant's order, would be disgracing the little character I have; and to write the author of The View of Society and Manners a letter of sentiment-I declare every artery runs cold at the thought. I shall try, however, to write to him to-morrow or next have already experienced, as a gentleday. His kind interposition in my behalf part of Lord Eglington, with ten guineas, man waited on me the other day on the by way of subscription for two copies of my next edition. I ideas of a citizen of the world; but have all those national prejudices which, I believe, grow peculiarly strong in the breast of a Scotchman. There is scarcely any thing to which I am so feelingly alive; as the honour and welfare of my country; and, as a poet, I have no higher enjoy- I have made of my glorious countryman The word you object to in the mention ment than singing her sons and daugh- and your immortal ancestor, is indeed borFate had cast my station in the rowed from Thomson; but it does not veriest shades of life; but never did a strike me as an improper epithet. I disheart pant more ardently than mine, to trusted my own judgment on your finding be distinguished; though till very lately, fault with it, and applied for the opinion I looked in vain on every side for a ray of some of the literati here, who honour of light. It is easy, then, to guess how much I was gratified with the counte- all allow it to be proper. The song you me with their critical strictures, and they nance and approbation of one of my coun- ask I cannot recollect, and I have not a try's most illustrious sons, when Mr. copy of it. I have not composed any Wauchope called on me yesterday on the thing on the great Wallace, except what part of your Lordship. Your munificence, my Lord, certainly deserves my very which I will print in this edition.* You you have seen in print, and the inclosed, grateful acknowledgments; but your pat-will see I have mentioned some others of ronage is a bounty peculiarly suited to my feelings. I am not master enough of the etiquette of life, to know whether there be not some impropriety in troubling your Lordship with my thanks; but my heart whispered me to do it. From the emotions of my inmost soul I do it. Selfish ingratitude, I hope, I am incapable of; and mercenary servility, I trust I shall ever have so much honest pride as to detest U the name. long ago, I attempted a description of * Stanzas in the l'ision, beginning "By stately tower or palace fair" and ending with the first Duan. E. SIR, No. XII. TO DR. MOORE. 1787. You are afraid I shall grow intoxicated with my prosperity as a poet. Alas! Madam, I know myself and the world too well. I do not mean any airs of affected modesty; I am willing to believe that my abilities deserved some notice; but in a most enlightened, informed age and na- MRS. DUNLOP has been so kind as to tion, when poetry is and has been the send me extracts of letters she has had study of men of the first natural genius, from you, where you do the rustic barc aided with all the powers of polite learn- the honour of noticing him and his works. ing, polite books, and polite company-Those who have felt the anxieties and to be dragged forth to the full glare of solicitude of authorship, can only know learned and polite observation, with all what pleasure it gives to be noticed in my imperfections of awkward rusticity such a manner by judges of the first chaand crude unpolished ideas on my head-racter. Your criticisms, Sir, I receive I assure you, Madam, I do not dissemble with reverence; only I am sorry they when I tell you I tremble for the conse- mostly came too late; a peccant passage quences. The novelty of a poet in my or two, that I would certainly have alterobscure situation, without any of those ed, were gone to the press. advantages which are reckoned necessary for that character, at least at this time of day, has raised a partial tide of public notice, which has borne me to a height where I am absolutely, feelingly certain my abilities are inadequate to support me; and too surely do I see that time when the same tide will leave me, and recede, perhaps, as far below the mark of truth. I do not say this in the ridiculous affectation of self-abasement and modesty. I have studied myself, and know what ground I occupy; and, however a friend or the world may differ from me in that particular, I stand for my own opinion in silent resolve, with all the tenaciousness | of property. I mention this to you, once for all, to disburden my mind, and I do not wish to hear or say more about it. But "When proud fortune's ebbing tide recedes," you will bear me witness, that, when my bubble of fame was at the highest, I stood, unintoxicated, with the inebriating cup in my hand, looking forward with rueful resolve to the hastening time when the blow of Calumny should dash it to the ground, with all the eagerness of vengeful triumph. Your patronising me, and interesting yourself in my fame and character as å poet, I rejoice in; it exalts me in my own idea; and whether you can or cannot aid me in my subscription is a trifle. Has a paltry subscription-bill any charms to the heart of a bard, compared with the patronage of the descendant of the immortal Wallace? The hope to be admired for ages is, in by far the greater part of those even who were authors of repute, an unsubstantial dream. For my part, my first ambition was, and still my strongest wish is, to please my compeers, the rustic inmates of the hamlet, while ever-changing language and manners shall allow me to be relished and understood. I am very willing to admit that I have some poetical abilities; and as few, if any writers, either moral or political, are intimately acquainted with the classes of mankind among whom I have chiefly mingled, I may have seen men and manners in a different phasis from what is common, which may assist originality of thought. Still I know very well the novelty of my character has by far the greatest share in the learned and polite notice I have lately had; and in a language where Pope and Churchill have raised the laugh, and Shenstone and Gray drawn the tear-where Thomson and Beattie have painted the landscape, and Lyttleton and Collins described the heart, I am not vain enough to hope for distinguished poetic fame. Your obedient, humble servant No. XIV. written for your perusal. I must forgive | ber of your subscribers, but find many of her, however, in consideration of her good my acquaintance are already among them. intention, as you will forgive me, I hope, I have only to add, that with every senfor the freedom I use with certain expres- timent of esteem and the most cordial sions, in consideration of my admiration good wishes, of the poems in general. If I may judge I am, of the author's disposition from his works, with all the good qualities of a poet, he has not the irritable temper ascribed to that race of men by one of their own number, whom you have the happiness to resemble in ease and curious felicity of expression. Indeed the poetical beauties, however original and brilliant, and lavishly scattered, are not all I admire in your works; the love of your native country, that feeling sensibility to all the objects of humanity, and the independent spirit which breathes through the whole, give me a most favourable impression of the poet, and have made me often regret that I did not see the poems, the certain effect of which would have been my seeing the author last summer, when I was longer in Scotland than I have been for many years. I rejoice very sincerely at the encouragement you receive at Edinburgh, and I think you peculiarly fortunate in the patronage of Dr. Blair, who I am informed interests himself very much for you. I beg to be remembered to him: nobody can have a warmer regard for that gentleman than I have, which, independent of the worth of his character, would be kept alive by the memory of our common friend, the late Mr. George B-e. TO THE REV. G. LOWRIE, OF NOCK. Edinburgh, 5th Feb. 1787. REVEREND AND DEAR SIR, WHEN I look at the date of your kind letter, my heart reproaches me severely with ingratitude in neglecting so long to answer it. I will not trouble you with any account, by way of apology, of my hurried life and distracted attention: do me the justice to believe that my delay by no means proceeded from want of respect. I feel, and ever shall feel, for you, the mingled sentiments of esteem for a friend, and reverence for a father. I thank you, Sir, with all my soul, for your friendly hints; though I do not need them so much as my friends are apt to imagine. You are dazzled with newspaper accounts and distant reports; but in reality, I have no great temptation to be intoxicated with the cup of prosperity. Novelty may attract the attention of manBefore I received your letter, I sent in-kind awhile; to it I owe my present eclat; closed in a letter to a sonnet by but I see the time not far distant, when Miss Williams a young poetical lady, the popular tide, which has borne me to a which she wrote on reading your Moun- height of which I am perhaps unworthy, tain-Daisy; perhaps it may not displease shall recede with silent celerity, and leave you.* me a barren waste of sand, to descend at my leisure to my former station. I do not say this in the affectation of modesty ; I see the consequence is unavoidable, and am prepared for it. I had been at a good deal of pains to form a just, impartial estimate of my intellectual powers, before I came here; I have not added, since I came to Edinburgh, any thing to the account; and I trust I shall take every atom of it back to my shades, the coverts of my unnoticed, early years. I have been trying to add to the num The Sonnet is as follows: While soon "the garden's flaunting flow'rs" decay And scatter'd on the earth neglected lie, The "Mountain-Daisy," cherish'd by the ray A poet drew from heaven, shall never die. Ah! like the lonely flower the poet rose! 'Mid penury's bare soil and bitter gale: He felt each storm that on the mountain blows, On nature with impassion'd look he gazed, In Dr. Blacklock, whom I see very often, I have found, what I would have expected in our friend, a clear head and an excellent heart |