tude 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 mankind awhile; to it I owe my present eclat; but I see the time not far distant when the popular tide, which has borne me to a height of which I am, perhaps, unworthy, shall recede with silent celerity, and leave 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, anything to the account; and I trust I shall take every atom of it back to my shades, the coverts of my unnoticed, early years. 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. By far the most agreeable hours I spend in Edinburgh must be placed to the account of Miss Lawrie and her piano-forte. I cannot help repeating to you and Mrs. Lawrie a compliment that Mr. Mackenzie, the celebrated "Man of Feeling," paid to Miss Lawrie, the other night, at the concert. I had come in at the interlude, and sat down by him till I saw Miss Lawrie in a seat not very distant, and went up to pay my respects to her. On my return to Mr. Mackenzie, he asked me who she was; I told him 'twas the daughter of a reverend friend of mine in the west country. He returned, there was something very striking, to his idea, in her appearance. On my desiring to know what it was, he was pleased to say, "She friend, I warn you to prepare to meet with your share of detraction and envy-a train that always accompanies great men. For your comfort I am in great hopes that the number of your friends and admirers will increase, and that you have some chance of ministerial, or even royal, patronage. Now, my friend, such rapid success is very uncommon, and do you think yourself in no 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. has a great deal of the elegance of a well-bred lady about her, with all the sweet simplicity of a country girl." My compliments to all the happy inmates of St. Margaret's. SIR: No. XLII. TO DR. MOORE. R. B. Edinburgh, 15th February, 1787. PARDON my seeming neglect in delaying so long to acknowledge the honour you have done me, in your kind notice of me, January 23d. Not many months ago I knew no other employment than following the plough, nor could boast any thing higher than a distant acquaintance with a country clergyman. Mere greatness never embarrasses me; I have nothing to ask from the great, and I do not fear their judgment: but genius, polished by learning, and at its proper point of elevation in the eye of the world, this of late I frequently meet with, and tremble at its approach. I scorn the affectation of seeming modesty to cover selfconceit. That I have some merit I do not deny; but I see, with frequent wringings of heart, that the novelty of my character, and the honest national prejudice of my countrymen, have borne me to a height altogether untenable to my abilities. For the honour Miss Williams has done me, please, Sir, return her in my name my most grateful thanks. I have more than once thought of paying her in kind, but have hitherto quitted the idea in hopeless despondency. I had never before heard of her; but the other day I got her poems, which for several reasons, some belonging to the head, and others the offspring of the heart, give me a great deal of pleasure. I have little pretensions to critic lore; there are, I think, two characteristic features in her poetry-the unfettered wild flight of native genius, and the querulous, sombre tenderness of "time-settled sorrow." I only know what pleases me, often without being able to tell why.* R. B. "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 virtue. This is my prayer in return for your elegant composition in verse. All here join in compliments and good wishes for your further prosperity." * [The answer of Moore is characteristic of the man: the glimpse which it gives of the household in which the heroic Sir John Moore was born and bred will be acceptable to the world. "Clifford-street, 28th February, 1787. "DEAR SIR:-Your letter of the 15th gave me a great deal of pleasure. It is not surprising that you improve in No. XLIII. TO JOHN BALLANTINE, Esq. MY HONOURED FRIEND: I WILL Soon be with you now, in guid black prent; in a week or ten days at farthest. I am obliged, against my own wish, to print subscribers' names; so if any of my Ayr friends have subscription bills, they must be sent in to Creech directly. I am getting my phiz done by an eminent engraver, and, if it can be ready in time, I will appear in my book, looking, like all other fools, to my title page.* R. B. do not deny me this petition. I owe much to your lordship: and, what has not in some other instances always been the case with me, the weight of the obligation is a pleasing load. I trust I have a heart as independent as your lordship's, than which I can say nothing more; and I would not be beholden to favours that would crucify my feelings. Your dignified character in life, and manner of supporting that character, are flattering to my pride; and I would be jealous of the purity of my grateful attachment, where I was under the patronage of one of the much favoured sons of fortune. Almost every poet has celebrated his patrons, particularly when they were names dear to fame, and illustrious in their country; allow me, then, my lord, if you think the verses have intrinsic merit, to tell the world how much I have the honour to be, Your lordship's highly indebted, R. B.+ I WANTED to purchase a profile of your lordship, which I was told was to be got in town; but I am truly sorry to see that a blundering painter has spoiled a "human face divine." The enclosed stanzas I intended to have written below a picture or profile of your lordship, could I have been so happy as to procure one with any thing of a likeness. As I will soon return to my shades, I wanted to have something like a material object for my gratitude; I wanted to have it in my power to say to a friend, there is my noble patron, my generous benefactor. Allow me, my lord, to publish these verses. I conjure your lordship, by the honest throe of gratitude, by the generous wish of benevolence, by all the powers and feelings which compose the magnanimous mind, THE honour your lordship has done me, by your notice and advice in yours of the 1st instant, I shall ever gratefully remember : "Praise from thy lips 'tis mine with joy to boast, Your lordship touches the darling chord of my heart, when you advise me to fire my muse at Scottish story and Scottish scenes. I wish for nothing more than to make a leisurely pilgrimage through my native country; to sit and muse on those once hard contested fields, where "This union of taste partly proceeds, no doubt, from the cement of Scottish partiality with which they are all somewhat tinctured. Even your translator, who left Scotland too early in life for recollection, is not without it. * correctness and taste, considering where you have been for some time past. And I dare swear there is no danger of your admitting any polish which might weaken the vigour of your native powers. "I am glad to perceive that you disdain the nauseous affectation of decrying your own merit as a poet, an affectation which is displayed with most ostentation by those who have the greatest share of self-conceit, and which only adds undeceiving falsehood to disgusting vanity. For you to deny the merit of your poems would be arraigning the fixed opinion of the public. "As the new edition of my 'View of Society' is not yet ready, I have sent you the former edition, which I beg you will accept as a small mark of my esteem. It is sent by sea to the care of Mr. Creech, and along with these four volumes for yourself, I have also sent my Medical Sketches,' in one volume, for my friend Mrs. Dunlop, of Dunlop this you will be so obliging as to transmit, or, if you chance to pass soon by Dunlop, to give to her. "I am happy to hear that your subscription is so ample, and shall rejoice at every piece of good fortune that befalls you. For you are a very great favourite in my family; and this is a higher compliment than perhaps you are aware of. It includes almost all the professions, and of course is a proof that your writings are adapted to various tastes and situations. My youngest son, who is at Winchester school, writes to me that he is translating some stanzas of your 'Hallowe'en' into Latin verse, for the benefit of his comrades. I remain, with great sincerity, * [The original picture, from which Beugo engraved the portrait to which the Poet alludes, was painted by the now venerable Nasmyth-the eldest of living British artists. It is of the cabinet size, and, though deficient in that look of inspiration which belonged peculiarly to Burns, is regarded by all the North as a good likeness. The engraving by Beugo has a more melancholy air, and is of a swarthier bue: this change was made by the engraver, who caused the Poet to sit to him, and finished the copper from his face, in preference to working from the picture. This painting passed into the hands of Mrs. Burns, after the death of Alexander Cunningham: it is now in the possession of the Poet's son. Captain William Burns, in India.] † [The Earl of Glencairn seems to have refused, from motives of delicacy, the request of the Poet; and the Poet. perhaps stung by the refusal, destroyed his own copy of the verses, for they have been sought for in vain.] Caledonia, rejoicing, saw her bloody lion borne through broken ranks to victory and fame; and, catching the inspiration, to pour the deathless names in song. But, my lord, in the midst of these enthusiastic reveries, a long-visaged, dry, moral-looking phantom strides across my imagination, and pronounces these emphatic words : No. XLVI. TO GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ. DEAR SIR: "I, Wisdom, dwell with Prudence. Friend, I do not come to open the ill-closed wounds of your follies and misfortunes, merely to give you pain: I wish through these wounds to imprint a lasting lesson on your heart. I will not mention how many of my salutary advices you have despised: I have given you line upon line and precept upon precept; and while I was chalking out to you the straight way to wealth and character, with audacious effrontery you have zigzagged across the path, contemning me to my face: you know the consequences. It is not yet three months since home was so hot for you that you were on the wing for the western shore of the Atlantic, not to make a fortune, but to hide your misfortune. "Now that your dear-loved Scotia puts it in your power to return to the situation of your forefathers, will you follow these will-o'-wisp meteors of fancy and whim, till they bring you once more to the brink of ruin? I grant that the utmost ground you can occupy is but half a step from the veriest poverty; but still it is half a step from it. If all that I can urge be ineffectual, let her who seldom calls to you in vain, let the call of pride prevail with you.— You know how you feel at the iron gripe of ruthless oppression: you know how you bear the galling sneer of contumelious greatness. I hold you out the conveniences, the comforts of life, independence, and character, on the one hand; I tender you civility, dependence, and wretchedness, on the other. I will not insult your understanding by bidding you make a choice." This, my lord, is unanswerable. I must return to my humble station, and woo my rustic muse in my wonted way at the plough-tail. Still, my lord, while the drops of life warm my heart, gratitude to that dear loved country in which I boast my birth, and gratitude to those her distinguished sons who have honoured me so much with their patronage and approbation, shall, while stealing through my humble shades, distend my bosom, and at times, as now, draw forth the swelling tear.f ever R. B. • [Copied from the Bee, vol. ii., p. 319, and compared with the author's MSS.-CURRIE.] + [The Earl of Buchan was one of the most economical of patrons; lest the object of his kindness might chance to feel too heavily the debt of obligation, he did not hesitate to al Edinburgh, March 8th, 1787. Your's came safe, and I am as usual much indebted to your goodness. Poor Captain M.[ontgomery] is cast. Yesterday it was tried whether the husband could proceed against the unfortunate lover without first divorcing his wife, and their Gravities on the Bench were unanimously of opinion that Maxwell may prosecute for damages directly, and need not divorce his wife at all if he pleases; and Maxwell is immediately, before the Lord Ordinary, to prove, what I dare say will not be denied, the Crim. Con. then their Lordships will modify the damages, which I suppose will be pretty heavy, as their Wisdoms have expressed great abhorrence of my gallant Right Worshipful Brother's conduct. O, all ye powers of love unfortunate, and friendless woe, pour the balm of sympathizing pity on the grief-torn, tender heart of the hapless Fair One!. My two songs on Miss W. Alexander and Miss P. Kennedy were likewise tried yesterday by a jury of literati, and found defamatory libels against the fastidious powers of Taste; of Poesy and and the author forbidden to print them under pain of forfeiture of character. I cannot help almost shedding a tear to the memory of two songs that had cost me some pains, and that I valued a good deal, but I must submit. My most respectful compliments to Mrs. Hamilton and Miss Kennedy. My poor unfortunate Songs come again across my memory. D-n the pedant, frigid soul of Criticism for ever and ever! I am ever, Dear Sir, Your obliged ROBERT BURNS. [The above interesting letter was communicated to the Editor of the present edition, by John Hamilton, Esq., the "wee curlie John " of Burns's Poetical Dedication to his friend and patron Gavin Hamilton, Esq. It will be perused with interest by all admirers of the great Scottish Bard. The Songs so feelingly alluded to were "The Bonny Lass o' Ballochmyle," and "The Banks o' Bonny Doon"-two of the finest lyrics in the language. They were not long in making their appearance. See pp. 357 and 409.-J. C.] No. XLVII. TO MR. JAMES CANDLISH.* Edinburgh, March 21, 1787. MY EVER DEAR OLD ACQUAINTANCE: I was equally surprised and pleased at your letter, though I dare say you will think by my delaying so long to write to you that I am so drowned in the intoxication of good fortune as to be indifferent to old, and once dear, connexions. The truth is, I was determined to write a good letter, full of argument, amplification, erudition, and, as Bayes says, all that. I thought of it, and thought of it, and, by my soul, I could not; and, lest you should mistake the cause of my silence, I just sit down to tell you so. Don't give yourself credit, though, that the strength of your logic scares me: the truth is I never mean to meet you on that ground at all. You have shown me one thing which was to be demonstrated that strong pride of reasoning, with a little affectation of singularity, may mislead the best of hearts. I likewise, since you and I were first acquainted, in the pride of despising old women's stories, ventured in "the daring path Spinosa trod;" but experience of the weakness, not the strength of human powers, made me glad to grasp at revealed religion. I am still, in the Apostle Paul's phrase, "The old man with his deeds," as when we were sporting about the "Lady Thorn." I shall be four weeks here yet at least; and so I shall expect to hear from you; welcome sense, welcome nonsense. I am, with the warmest sincerity, No. XLVIII. R. B. TO MR. WILLIAM DUNBAR. Lawn-Market, Monday Morning, [March, 1787.] DEAR SIR: In justice to Spenser, I must acknowledge that there is scarcely a poet in the language could have been a more agreeable present to me; and in justice to you, allow me to say, Sir, that I have not met with a man in Edinburgh to whom I would so willingly have been indebted for the gift. The tattered rhymes I herewith present you, and the handsome volumes of Spenser for which I am so much indebted to your goodness, may perhaps be not in proportion to one another; but be that as it may, my gift, though far less valuable, is as sincere a mark of esteem as yours. • [The person to whom this letter is addressed-at that time a student of physic in the University of Glasgow, was a good scholar, something of a poet, and much of a controversialist. He was, it is believed, a native of the province of Galloway-was well acquainted with the poetry of John The time is approaching when I shall return to my shades; and I am afraid my numerous Edinburgh friendships are of so tender a construction that they will not bear carriage with me. Yours is one of the few that I could wish of a more robust constitution. It is indeed very probable that when I leave this city, we part never more to meet in this sublunary spher sphere; but I have a strong fancy that in some future eccentric planet, the comet of happier systems than any with which astronomy is yet acquainted, you and I, among the harum scarum sons of imagination and whim, with a hearty shake of a hand, a metaphor and a laugh, shall recognise old acquaintance: Where wit may sparkle all its rays, Rejoice for endless years. I have the honour to be, with the warmest sincerity, dear Sir, &c. R. B. You may think, and too justly, that I am a selfish, ungrateful fellow, having received so many repeated instances of kindness from you, and yet never putting pen to paper to say thank you; but if you knew what a devil of a life my conscience has led me on that account, your good heart would think yourself too much avenged. By the bye, there is nothing in the whole frame of man which seems to be so unaccountable as that thing called conscience. Had the troublesome yelping cur powers efficient to prevent a mischief, he might be of use; but at the beginning of the business, his feeble efforts are to the workings of passion as the infant frosts of an autumnal morning to the unclouded fervour of the rising sun: and no sooner are the tumultuous doings of the wicked deed over, than, amidst the bitter native consequences of folly, in the very vortex of our Lowe, author of "Mary's Dream," and furnished a copy of the Galwegian bard's song of "Pompey's Ghost," at the request of Burns, for the Musical Museum. He was one of the very earliest of the Poet's companions, and one of the cleverest; nor was he unsuccessful in the world.] horrors, up starts conscience, and harrows us with the feelings of the damned. I have enclosed you, by way of expiation, some verse and prose, that, if they merit a place in your truly entertaining miscellany, you are welcome to. The prose extract is literally as Mr. Sprott sent it me. The inscription on the stone is as follows : "HERE LIES ROBERT FERGUSSON, POET, "Born, September 5th, 1751-Died, October 16th, 1774. "No sculptur'd marble here, nor pompous lay, On the other side of the stone is as follows: "By special grant of the managers to Robert Burns, who erected this stone, this burial-place is to remain for ever sacred to the memory of Robert Fergusson." Session-house within the Kirk of Canongate, the twenty-second day of February, one thousand seven hundred and eighty-seven years. Sederunt of the Managers of the Kirk and Kirk Yard funds of Canongate. Which day, the treasurer to the said funds produced a letter from Mr. Robert Burns, of date the 6th current, which was read and appointed to be engrossed in their sederunt book, and of which letter the tenor follows: * [From the sinking of the ground of the neighbouring graves, the head-stone placed by Burns over Fergusson was thrown from its balance; this was observed soon after the death of the Bard of Ayr, by the Esculapian Club of Edinburgh, who, animated by that pious zeal for departed merit which had before led them to prevent some other sepulchral monuments from going to ruin, re-fixed the original stone, and added some iron work, with an additional inscription to the memory of Burns. The poetical part of it is taken, almost verbatim, from the Elegy on Captain Matthew Henderson : Dignum laude verum Musa vetat mori. To the Memory of ROSCOE. ROBERT BURNS, THE AYR-SHIRE BARD; AND DIED AT DUMPRIES, O ROBERT BURNS! the Man, the Brother! Like thee, where shall we find another, The world around! Go to your sculptur'd tombs, ye Great, In a' the tinsel trash o' state! But by thy honest turf I'll wait, Thou man of worth! And weep the sweetest Poet's fate, E'er liv'd on earth. To have raised one solid monument of masonry to both, working Fergusson's head-stone into one side of the structure, and placing the Burns inscription on the other, would "To the honourable baillies of Canongate, Edinburgh.-Gentlemen, I am sorry to be told that the remains of Robert Fergusson, the so justly celebrated poet, a man whose talents for ages to come will do honour to our Caledonian name, lie in your church-yard among the ignoble dead, unnoticed and unknown. "Some memorial to direct the steps of the lovers of Scottish song, when they wish to shed a tear over the narrow house' of the bard who is no more, is surely a tribute due to Fergusson's memory: a tribute I wish to have the honour of paying. "I petition you then, gentlemen, to permit me to lay a simple stone over his revered ashes, to remain an unalienable property to his deathless fame. I have the honour to be, gentlemen, your very humble servant (sic subscribitur), ROBERT BURNS. Thereafter the said managers, in consideration of the laudable and disinterested motion of Mr. Burns, and the propriety of his request, did, and hereby do, unanimously grant power and liberty to the said Robert Burns to erect a headstone at the grave of the said Robert Fergusson, and to keep up and preserve the same to his memory in all time coming.* Extracted forth of the records of the managers, by WILLIAM SPROTT, Clerk. perhaps have been more judicious. See Letter to Mr. Peter Hill, dated Feb. 5th, 1792, relative to this monument. On the subject of Fergusson's head-stone, we find the following letter in Dr. Currie's edition of the Poet's works:March 8th, 1787. * * I AM truly happy to know you have found a friend in *; his patronage of you does him great honour. He is truly a good man; by far the best I ever knew, or, perhaps, ever shall know, in this world. But I must not speak all I think of him, lest I should be thought partial. So you have obtained liberty from the magistrates to erect a stone over Fergusson's grave? I do not doubt it; such things have been, as Shakspeare says, "in the olden time;" "The poet's fate is here in emblem shown, He ask'd for bread, and he receiv'd a stone." It is, I believe, upon poor Butler's tomb that this is written. But how many brothers of Parnassus, as well as poor Butler and poor Fergusson, have ask'd for bread, and been served with the same sauce! * * * * The magistrates gave you liberty, did they? Oh, generous magistrates! * *, celebrated over the three kingdoms for his public spirit, gives a poor poet liberty to raise a tomb to a poor poet's memory! most generous! * *, once upon a time, gave that same poet the mighty sum of eighteen pence for a copy of his works. But then it must be considered that the poet was at that time absolutely starving, and besought his aid with all the earnestness of hunger. And over and above he received a *, worth at least, one third of the value, in exchange; ; but which, I believe, the poet afterwards very ungratefully expunged. * Next week I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you in Edinburgh; and, as my stay will be for eight or ten days, I wish you or * ** would take a snug, well-aired bedroom for me, where I may have the pleasure of seeing you over a morning cup of tea. But by all accounts it will be a matter of some difficulty to see you at all, unless your company is bespoke a week before hand. There is a great rumour here concerning your great intimacy with the Duchess of |