I READ your letter with watery eyes. A little, very little while ago, I had scarce a friend but the stubborn pride of my own bosom; now I am distinguished, patronized, befriended by you. Your friendly advices-I will not give them the cold name of criticisms, I receive with reverence. I have made some small alterations in what I before had printed. I have the advice of some very judicious friends among the literati here, but with them I sometimes find it necessary to claim the privilege of thinking for myself. The noble Earl of Glencairn, to whom I owe more than to any man, does me the honour of giving me his strictures: his hints with respect to impropriety or indelicacy, I follow implicitly. You kindly interest yourself in my future views and prospects; there I can give you no light. It is all "Dark as was Chaos ere the infant sun Was roll'd together, or had tried his beams The appellation of a Scottish bard is by far my highest pride; to continue to deserve it is my most exalted ambition. Scottish scenes and Scottish story are the themes I could wish to sing. I have no dearer aim than to have it in my power, unplagued with the routine of business, for which heaven knows I am unfit enough, to make leisurely pilgrimages through Caledonia; to sit on the fields of her battles; to wander on the romantic banks of her rivers; and to muse by the stately towers or venerable ruins, once the honoured abodes of her heroes. But these are all Utopian thoughts: I have dallied long enough with life; 'tis time to be in I have a fond, an aged mother to care for: and some other bosom ties perhaps equally tender. Where the individual only earnest. that -, and other ladies of distinction. I am really told "Cards to invite fly by thousands each night;" and if you had one, I suppose there would also be "bribes to your old secretary." It seems you are resolved to make hay while the sun shines, and avoid, if possible, the fate of poor Fergusson, *. Quærenda pecunia primum est, virtus post nummos, is a good maxim to thrive by you seemed to despise it while in this part of the country, but probably some philosopher in Edinburgh has taught you better sense. * * Pray are you yet engraving as well as printing-are you yet seized "With itch of picture in the front, But I must give up this trifling, and attend to matters that more concern myself; so, as the Aberdeen wit says, "Adieu, dryly; we sal drink phan we meet." I guess that I shall clear between two and three hundred pounds by my authorship !* with that sum I intend, so far as I may be said to have any intention, to return to my old acquaintance, the plough, and, if I can meet with a lease by which I can live, to commence farmer. I do not intend to give up poetry; being bred to labour, secures me independence, and the muses are my chief, sometimes have been my only, enjoyment. If my practice second my resolution, I shall have principally at heart the serious business of life; but while following my plough, or building up my shocks, I shall cast a leisure glance to that dear, that only feature of my character, which gave me the notice of my country, and the patronage of a Wallace. Thus, honoured Madam, I have given you the bard, his situation, and his views, native as they are in his own bosom. R. B. Edinburgh, 15th April, 1787. THERE is an affectation of gratitude which I dislike. The periods of Johnson and the pauses of Sterne may hide a selfish heart. For my part, Madam, I trust I have too much pride for servility, and too little prudence for selfishness. I have this moment broken open your letter, but "Rude am I in speech, And therefore little can I grace my cause "The above extract," says Dr. Currie, "is from a letter of one of the ablest of our Poet's correspondents, which contains some interesting anecdotes of Fergusson. The writer is mistaken in supposing the magistrates of Edinburgh had any share in the transaction respecting the monument crected for Fergusson by our Bard; this, it is evident, passed between Burns and the Kirk Session of the Canongate. Neither at Edinburgh, nor any where else, do magistrates usually trouble themselves to inquire how the house of a poor port is furnished, or how his grave is adorned." See additional letter on this subject, dated September, 1789.] * [It has not hitherto been stated accurately how much the Poet made by the subscription copy of his poems: the clear profit has indeed been calculated at seven hundred pounds; but such calculations can be at the best but lucky guesses, in the absence of a correct subscription-paper. Some put down their names for ten copies and took but one, while others subscribed for one and paid a guinea.] 1 : so I shall not trouble you with any fine speeches and hunted figures. I shall just lay my hand on my heart and say, I hope I shall ever have the truest, the warmest, sense of your goodness. I come abroad in print, for certain on Wednesday. Your orders I shall punctually attend to; only, by the way, I must tell you that I was paid before for Dr. Moore's and Miss Williams' copies, through the medium of Commissioner Cochrane in this place, but that we can settle when I have the honour of waiting on you. Dr. Smith was just gone to London the morning before I received your letter to him. R. B. No. LII. TO DR. MOORE. Edinburgh, 23d. April, 1787. I RECEIVED the books, and sent the one you mentioned to Mrs. Dunlop. I am ill skilled in beating the coverts of imagination for metaphors of gratitude. I thank you, Sir, for the honour you have done me; and to my latest hour will warmly remember it. To be highly pleased with your book is what I have in common with the world; but to regard these volumes as a mark of the author's friendly esteem is a still more supreme gratification. I leave Edinburgh in the course of ten days or a fortnight, and, after a few pilgrimages over some of the classic ground of Caledonia, Cowden Knowes, Banks of Yarrow, Tweed, &c., I shall return to my rural shades, in all likeli hood never more to quit them. I have formed many intimacies and friendships here, but I am afraid they are all of too tender a construction to bear carriage a hundred and fifty miles. To the rich, the great, the fashionable, the polite, I have no equivalent to offer; and I am afraid my meteor appearance will by no means entitle me to a settled correspondence with any of you, who are the permanent lights of genius and literature. My most respectful compliments to Miss Williams. If once this tangent flight of mine were over, and I were returned to my wonted leisurely motion in my old circle, I may probably endeavour to return her poetic compliment in kind. R. B. the new edition of your poems. You seem to think it incumbent on you to send to each subscriber a number of copies proportionate to his subscription money, but you may depend upon it, few subscribers expect more than one copy, whatever they subscribed; I must inform you, however, that I took twelve copies for those subscribers, for whose money you were so accurate as to send me a receipt, and Lord Eglinton told me he had sent for six copies for himself, as he wished to give five of them as presents. "Some of the poems you have added in this last edition are very beautiful, particularly the 'Winter Night,' the 'Address to Edinburgh,' 'Green grow the Rashes,' and the two songs immediately following-the latter of which is exquisite. By the way, I imagine, you have a peculiar talent for such compositions, which you ought to indulge. No kind of poetry demands more delicacy or higher polishing. Horace is more admired on account of his Odes than all his other writings. But nothing now added is equal to your "Vision" and "Cotter's Saturday Night." In these are united fine imagery, natural and pathetic description, with sublimity of language and thought. It is evident that you already possess a great variety of expression and command of the English language; you ought, therefore, to deal more sparingly, for the future, in the provincial dialect-why should you, by using that, limit the number of your admirers to those who understand the Scottish, when you can extend it to all persons of taste who understand the English language? In my opinion you should plan some larger work than any you have as yet attempted. I mean, reflect upon some proper subject, and arrange the plan in your mind, without beginning to execute any part of it till you have studied most of the best English poets, and read a little more of history. The Greek and Roman stories you can read in some abridgment, and soon become master of the most brilliant facts, which must highly delight a poetical mind. You should also, and very soon may, become master of the heathen mythology, to which there are everlasting allusions in all the poets, and which in itself is charmingly fanciful. What will require to be studied with more attention is modern history; that is, the history of France and Great Britain, from the beginning of Henry the Seventh's reign. I know very well you have a mind capable of attaining knowledge by a shorter [The answer of Dr. Moore was as follows:- process than is commonly used, and I am "Clifford Street, May 23, 1787. "DEAR SIR-I had the pleasure of your letter by Mr. Creech, and soon after he sent me [Adam Smith, the distinguished author of "The Wealth of Nations," &c.] certain you are capable of making a better use of it, when attained, than is generally done. I beg you will not give yourself the trouble of writing to me when it is inconvenient, and make no apology when you do write for having postponed it be assured of this, however, that I shall always be happy to hear from you. I think my friend Mr. - told me that you had some poems in manuscript by you, of a satirical and humorous nature (in which, by the way, I think you very strong), which your prudent friends prevailed on you to omit, particularly one called 'Somebody's Confession:' if you will entrust me with a sight of any of these, I will pawn my word to give no copies, and will be obliged to you for a perusal of No. LIV. them. I understand you intend to take a farm, and make the useful and respectable business of husbandry your chief occupation: this I hope will not prevent your making occasional addresses to the nine ladies who have shown you such favour, one of whom visited you in the 'auld clay biggin.' Virgil, before you, proved to the world that there is nothing in the business of husbandry inimical to poetry; and I sincerely hope that you may afford an example of a good poet being a successful farmer. I fear it will not be in my power to visit Scotland this season; when I do, I'll endeavour to find you out, for I heartily wish to see and converse with you. If ever your occasions call you to this place, I make no doubt of your paying me a visit, and you may depend on a very cordial welcome from this family. I am, dear Sir, your friend and obedient servant, No. LIII. J. MOORE."] TO MRS. DUNLOP. Edinburgh, 30th April, 1787. -YOUR criticisms, Madam, I understand very well, and could have wished to have pleased you better. You are right in your guess that I am not very amenable to counsel. Poets, much my superiors, have so flattered those who possessed the adventitious qualities of wealth and power, that I am determined to flatter no created being, either in prose or verse. I set as little by princes, lords, clergy, critics, &c., as all these respective gentry do by my bardship. I know what I may expect from the world, by and bye-illiberal abuse, and perhaps contemptuous neglect. I am happy, Madam, that some of my own favourite pieces are distinguished by your particular approbation. For my "Dream," which has unfortunately incurred your loyal displeasure, I hope in four weeks, or less, to have the honour of appearing, at Dunlop, in its defence in person. TO THE REV. DR. HUGH BLAIR. REVEREND & MUCH-RESPECTED SIR: I LEAVE Edinburgh to-morrow morning, but could not go without troubling you with half a line, sincerely to thank you for the kindness, patronage, and friendship you have shown me. I often felt the embarrassment of my singular situation; drawn forth from the veriest shades of life to the glare of remark; and honoured by the notice of those illustrious names of my country whose works, while they are applauded to the end of time, will ever instruct and mend the heart. However the meteor-like novelty of my appearance in the world might attract notice, and honour me with the acquaintance of the permanent lights of genius and literature, those who are truly benefactors of the immortal nature of man, I knew very well that my ntmost merit was far unequal to the task of preserving that character when once the novelty was over; I have made up my mind that abuse, or almost even neglect, will not surprise me in my quarters. I have sent you a proof impression of Beugo's workt for me, done on Indian paper, as a trifling but sincere testimony with what heartwarm gratitude I am, &c. R. B. [The [The answer of Blair to this letter contains a full refutation of all those who asserted that the Poet's life in Edinburgh was wild and irregular : "Argyle-square, Edinburgh, 4th May, 1787. "DEAR SIR:-I was favoured this forenoon with your very obliging letter, together with an impression of your portrait, for which I return you my best thanks. The success you have met with I do not think was beyond your merits; and if I have had any small hand in contributing to it, it gives me great pleasure. I know no way in which literary persons who are advanced in years can do more service to the world than in forwarding the efforts of rising genius, or bringing forth unknown merit from obscurity. I was the first person who brought out to the notice of the world the poems of Ossian; first, by the 'Fragments of ancient Poetry,' which I published, and afterwards, by my setting on foot the undertaking for collecting and publishing the 'Works of Ossian; and I have always considered this as a meritorious action of my life. "Your situation, as you say, was indeed very singular: and in being brought out, all at once, † The portrait of the Poet after Nasmyth. R. B. * [The well-known poem, beginning, "Guid morning to your majesty." (See p. 254.) Mrs. Dunlop had probably recommended its being omitted in the second edition, on the score of prudence.] יו from the shades of deepest privacy to so great a share of public notice and observation, you had to stand a severe trial. I am happy that you have stood it so well; and, as far as I have known or heard, though in the midst of many temptations, without reproach to your character and behaviour. "You are now, I presume, to retire to a more private walk of life; and I trust will conduct yourself there with industry, prudence, and honour. You have laid the foundation for just public esteem. In the midst of those employments, which your situation will render proper, you will not, I hope, neglect to promote that esteem, by cultivating your genius, and attending to such productions of it as may raise your character still higher. At the same time be not in too great a haste to come forward. Take time and leisure to improve and mature your talents. For on any second production, you give the world, your fate, as a poet, will very much depend. There is no doubt a gloss of very novelty, which time wears off. As you hint yourself, you are not to prised if in your rural retreat you do not find yourself surrounded with that glare of notice and applause which here shone upon you. No man can be a good poet without being somewhat of a philosopher. He must lay his account that any one, who exposes himself to public observation, will occasionally meet with the attacks of illiberal censure, which it is always best to overlook and despise. He will be inclined sometimes to court retreat, and to disappear from public view. He will not affect to shine always; that he may at proper seasons come forth with more advantage and energy. He will think himself neglected not not always praised. I have taken the liberty, you see, of an old man to give advice and make reflections, which your own good sense will I dare say render unnecessary. if he be When you return, if you come this way, I will be happy to see you, and to know concerning your future plans of life. You will find me by the 22nd of this month, not in my house in Argyle-square, but at a country-house at Restalrig, about a mile east from Edinburgh, near the Musselburgh-road. Wishing you all success and prosperity, I am, with real regard and esteem, " Dear Sir, "HUGH BLAIR."] [Mr. Peter Hill, afterwards in business for himself as a bookseller, and honoured by the poet's correspondence. Reared with Mr. Creech, he was in his turn master to Mr. Constable. He died at an advanced age, in 1836.] † [This letter first appeared in Hogg and Motherwell's No LV. TO MR. PATISON, BOOKSELLER, PAISLEY. Berry-well, near Dunse, May 11th, 1787. DEAR SIR: I AM sorry I was out of Edinburgh, making a slight pilgrimage to the classic scenes of this country, when I was favoured with yours of the 11th instant, enclosing an order of the Paisley banking company on the Royal bank, for twenty-two pounds seven shillings sterling, payment in full, after carriage deducted, for ninet ninety copies of my book I sent you. According to your motions, I see you will have left Scotland before this reaches you, otherwise I would send you "Holy Willie" with all my heart. I was so hurried that I absolutely forgot several things I ought to have minded, among the rest, sending books to Mr. Cowan; order of yours will be answered at Creech's shop. You will please remember that non-subscribers pay six shillings; this is Creech's profit; but those who have subscribed, though their names have been neglected in the printed list, which is very incorrect, they are supplied at the subscription price. I was not at Glasgow, nor do I intend for London; and I think Mrs. Fame is very idle to tell so many lies on a poor Poet. When you or Mr. Cowan write for copies, if you should want any, direct to Mr. Hill, at Mr. Creech's shop, and I write to Mr. Hill by this post, to answer either of your orders. Hill is Mr. Creech's first clerk, and Creech himself is preI suppose I shall have the sently in London. pleasure, against your return to Paisley, of assuring you how much I am, edition of Burns's works, and is valuable inasmuch as it shews the number of the Poet's works which were subscribed for in Paisley. The original MS.is in the hands of Charles Hutcheson, Esq. of Glasgow.] hour that I sheuk hands and parted wi' auld Reekie. me. * My auld, ga'd gleyde o' a meere has huchyall'd up hill and down brae, in Scotland and England, as teugh and birnie as a vera devil wi' It's true, she's as poor's a sang-maker and as hard's a kirk, and tipper-taipers when she taks the gate, first like a lady's gentlewoman in a minuwae, or a hen on a het girdle; but she's a yauld, poutherie girran for a' that, and has a stomack like Willie Stalker's meere that wad hae disgeested tumbler-wheels, for she'll whip me aff her five stimparts o' the best aits at a down-sittin and ne'er fash her thumb.When ance her ringbanes and spavies, her crucks and cramps, are fairly soupl'd, she beets to, beets to, and aye the hindmost hour the tightest. I could wager her price to a thretty pennies, that for twa or three wooks ridin' at fifty mile a day, the deil-sticket a five gallopers acqueesh Clyde and Whithorn could cast saut on her tail. I hae dander'd owre a' the kintra frae Dumbar to Selcraig, and hae foregather'd wi mony a guid fallow, and monie a weelfar'd hizzie.I met wi' twa dink quines in particlar, ane o' them a sonsie, fine, fodgel lass, baith braw and bonnie; the tither was a clean-shankit, straught, tight, weelfar'd winch, as blythe's a lintwhite on a flowerie thorn, and as sweet and modest's a new blawn plumrose in a hazle shaw. They were baith bred to mainers by the beuk, and onie ane o' them had as muckle smeddum and rumblegumption as the half o' some presbytries that you and I baith ken. They play'd me sic a deevil o' a shavie that I daur say, if my harigals were turn'd out, ye wad see twa nicks i' the heart o' me like the mark o' a kail-whittle in a castock. I was gaun to write you a lang pystle, but, Gude forgie me, I gat mysel sae noutouriously bitchify'd the day, after kail-time, that I can hardly stoiter but and ben. My best respecks to the guidwife and a' our common friens, especiall Mr. and Mrs. Cruikshank, and the honest guidman o' Jock's Lodge. I'll be in Dumfries the morn gif the beast be to the fore, and the branks bide hale. Gude be wi' you, Willie! Amen! Infernal world! and thou, profoundest Hell, I cannot settle to my mind.-Farming-the only thing of which I know anything, and Heaven above knows but little do I understand even of that, I cannot, dare not risk on farms as they are. If I do not fix, I will go for Jamaica. Should I stay, in an unsettled | state at home, I would only dissipate my little fortune, and ruin what I intend shall compensate my little ones for the stigma I have brought on their names. I shall write you more at large soon; as this letter costs you no postage, if it be worth reading you cannot complain of your pennyworth. I am ever, My dear Sir, * [This mare was the Poet's favourite, Jenny Geaues. She was named by him, says Cromek, after the old woman who, in her zeal against religious innovation, threw a stool at the Dean of Edinburgh's head, when he attempted, in 1637, to introduce the Scottish Liturgy." On Sunday, the twenty-third of July, the Dean of Edinburgh prepared to officiate in St. Giles's. The congregation continued quiet till the service began, when an old woman, impelled by sudden indignation, started up, and exclaiming aloud, 'Villain! dost thou say the mass at my lug?" threw the stool on which she had been sitting at the Dean's head. A wild uproar commenced that instant. The service was interrupted. The woman invaded the desk with execrations and outcries, and the Dean disengaged himself from his surplice to escape from her hands."] † [This letter cannot be otherwise than obscure to many a reader; nor can we hope, by a mere explanation of the words individually, to let English light in upon northern darkness. The gentleman to whom it was addressed understood it well: he was of humble parentage, and, like our Poet, forced his way to distinction by his talents and his learning: having achieved eminence, he sat quiet for a time, and seemed to be satisfied with himself. His love for pleasant company, and lively sallies of humour or of wit, led him to indulge in the pleasures of the table, and carried him to an early grave. He died in 1797.-CUNNINGHAM. ["No man had ever more command of the ancient Dorie dialect than Burns. He has left a curious testimony of his skill in the above letter-an attempt to read a sentence of which would break the teeth of most modern Scotchmen."-Sra WALTER SCOTT. It is written in the west-country dialect, and I does not present any difficulty to a native.-MOTHERWELL-] | |