Stanhopian plan, the perfect man; a man to lead nations. But are great abilities, complete without a flaw, and polished without a blemish, the standard of human excellence? This is certainly the staunch opinion of men of the world; but I call on honour, virtue, and worth, to give the Stygian doctrine a loud negative! However, this must be allowed, that, if you abstract from man the idea of an existence beyond the grave, then, the true measure of human conduct is, proper and improper: virtue and vice, as dispositions of the heart, are, in that case, of scarcely the same import and value to the world at large as harmony and discord in the modifications of sound; and a delicate sense of honour, like a nice ear for music, though it may sometimes give the possessor an ecstacy unknown to the coarser organs of the herd, yet, considering the harsh gratings, and inharmonic jars, in this ill-tuned state of being, it is odds but the individual would be as happy, and certainly would be as much respected by the true judges of society as it would then stand, without either a good ear or a good heart. You must know I have just met with the Mirror and Lounger for the first time, and I am quite in raptures with them; I should be glad to have your opinion of some of the papers. The one I have just read, Lounger, No. 61, has cost me more honest tears than any thing I have read of a long time. Mackenzie has been called the Addison of the Scots, and, in my opinion, Addison would not be hurt at the comparison. If he has not Addison's exquisite humour, he as certainly outdoes him in the tender and the pathetic. His Man of Feeling (but I am not counsel learned in the laws of criticism) I estimate as the first performance in its kind I ever saw. From what book, moral or even pious, will the susceptible young mind receive impressions more congenial to humanity and kindness, generosity and benevolence; in short, more of all that ennobles the soul to herself, or endears her to others-than from the simple affecting tale of poor Harley ? + Still, with all my admiration of Mackenzie's writings, I do not know if they are the fittest reading for a young man who is about to set out, as the phrase is, to make his way into life. Do not you think, Madam, that among the few favoured of Heaven in the structure of their minds (for such there certainly are), there may be a purity, a tenderness, a dignity, and elegance of soul which are of no use, nay, in some degree, absolutely disqualifying for the truly important business of ma making a ga man's way into life? If I am not much mistaken, my gallant young friend, A *** much under these disqualifications; and for the young females of a family I could mention, well may they excite parental solicitude, for 1. a common acquaintance, or as my vanity will have it, an humble friend, have often trembled for a turn of mind which may render them eminently happy-or peculiarly miserable! *, I is very I have been manufacturing some verses lately: but as I have got the most hurried season of excise business over, I hope to have more leisure to transcribe any thing that may show how much I have the honour to be, Madam, I SHALL not fail to wait on Captain Riddel to-night-I wish and pray that the goddess of justice herself would appear to-morrow among our hon. gentlemen, merely to give them a word in their ear that mercy to the thief is injustice to the honest man. For my part I have galloped over my ten parishes these four days, until this moment that I am just alighted, or rather, that my poor jackass-skeleton of a horse has let me down; for the miserable devil has been on his knees half a score of times within the last twenty miles, telling me in his own way, * [This paper relates to attachments between servants and to him by you, as he expressed to me a very strong desire to masters, and concludes with the story of Albert Blane.] + [Of all the letters which Burns wrote to Henry Mackenzie, not one has been handed down to us; the following is from the pen of the Man of Feeling, and was addressed to the poet when about to set off on his Border tour: "DEAR SIR, "AMIDST a variety of occupations in which I am at this moment engaged, I have only time to scrawl these few lines to return you very sincere and cordial thanks for the engraving and the letter accompanying it. The anecdote you obligingly communicate is not less gratifying to the feelings of the man than flattering to the vanity of the author. "I heartily wish you a pleasant jourucy and all happiness and success in the cause and in the objects of it. I hope, as soon as you return to Edinburgh, to have the pleasure of seeing you. Mr. Stewart told me he had given you a letter to Mr. Brydone, otherwise I would have written a few lines see you at his house on the banks of the Tweed. more I wish you every thing pleasant and prosperous. "Yours very faithfuliy, Once "HENRY MACKENZIE." It is singular that the poet read the Mirror and Lounger for the first time in 1790-in the year 1786 there appeared i the latter a generous article from the pen of Macker.zie on the poems of Burns, in which he was placed nigh the summit of the Scottish Parnassus.] to.] [Probably Anthony, a son of Mrs. Dunlop, is here alluded [Collector Mitchell was a kind and considerate gentleman, and befriended the poet on several occasions; to his grandson, Mr. John Campbell, surgeon, in Aberdeen, we are indebted for this characteristic letter.] 1 'Behold, am not I thy faithful jade of a horse, on which thou hast ridden these many years?' In short, Sir, I have broke my horse's wind, and almost broke my own neck, besides some injuries in a part that shall be nameless, owing to a hard-hearted stone for a saddle. I find that every offender has so many great men to espouse his cause that I shall not be surprised if I am committed to the strong hold of the law to-morrow for insolence to the dear friends of the gentlemen of the country. I have the honour to be, Sir, COMING into town this morning, to attend my duty in this office, it being collection-day, I met with a gentleman who tells me he is on his way to London; so I take the opportunity of writing to you, as franking is at present under a temporary death. I shall have some snatches of leisure through the day, amid our horrid business and bustle, and I shall improve them as well as I can; but let my letter be as stupid as *******, as miscellaneous as a newspaper, as short as a hungry grace-beforemeat, or as long as a law-paper in the Douglas cause; as ill spelt as country John's billet-doux, or as unsightly a scrawl as Betty Byre-Mucker's answer to it; I hope, considering circumstances, you will forgive it; and as it will put you to no expense of postage, I shall have the less reflection about it. I am sadly ungrateful in not returning you my thanks for your most valuable present, Zeluco. In fact, you are in some degree blame able for my neglect. You were pleased to express a wish for my opinion of the work, which so flattered me that nothing less would serve my over-weening fancy than a formal criticism on the book. In fact, I have gravely planned a comparative view of you, Fielding, Richardson, and Smollett, in your different qualities and merits as novel-writers. This, I own, betrays my ridiculous vanity, and I may probably never bring the business to bear; but I am fond of the spirit young Elihu shews in the * [The sonnets to which Burns alludes were those of Charlotte Smith; in the volume which belonged to the poet one note alone intimates that the book passed through his hands; the fair authoress, in giving the source of line 14, in the 8th sonnet "Have power to cure all sadness but despair," quotes Milton book of Job-"And I said, I will also declare my opinion." I have quite disfigured my copy of the book with my annotations. I never take it up without at the same time taking my pencil, and marking with asterisms, parentheses, &c., wherever I meet with an original thought, a nervous remark on life and manners, a remarkable well-turned period, or a character sketched with uncommon precision. Though I should hardly think of fairly writing out my "Comparative View," I shall certainly trouble you with my remarks, such as they are. I have just received from my gentleman that horrid summons in the book of revelations"That time shall be no more!" The little collection of sonnets have some charming poetry in them. If indeed I am indebted to the fair author for the book, and not, as I rather suspect, to a celebrated author of the other sex, I should certainly have written to the lady, with my grateful acknowledgments, and my own ideas of the comparative excellence of her pieces. I would do this last, not from any vanity of thinking that my remarks could be of much consequence to Mrs. Smith, but merely from my own feelings as an author, doing as I would be done by.* I RECEIVED a letter from you a long time ago, but unfortunately as it was in the time of my peregrinations and journeyings through Scotland, I mislaid or lost it, and by consequence your direction along with it. Luckily my good star brought me acquainted with Mr. Kennedy, who, I understand, is an acquaintance of yours: and by his means and mediation I hope to replace that link which my unfortunate negligence had so unluckily broken in the chain of our correspondence. I was the more vexed at the vile accident as my brother William, a journeyman saddler, has been for some time in London; and wished above all things for your direction, that he might have paid his respects to his Father's Friend. "Vernal delight and joy, able to drive To this Burns added with the pen "He sang sae sweet as might dispel These lines are to be found in one version at least of the fine ballad of Gil Morice.] His last address he sent me was, "Wm. Burns, at Mr. Barber's, saddler, No. 181, Strand." I wrote him by Mr. Kennedy, but neglected to ask him for your address; so, if you find a spare half minute, please let my brother know by a card where and when he will find you, and the poor fellow will joyfully wait on you, as one of the few surviving friends of the man whose name, and Christian name too, he has the honour to bear. was ill. "YOURS of the 16th of July, I received on the 26th, in the afternoon, per favour of my friend Mr. Kennedy, and at the same time was informed that your brother Being engaged in business till late that evening, I set out next morning to see him, and had thought of three or four medical gentlemen of my acquaintance, to one or other of whom I might apply for advice, provided it should be necesBut when I went to Mr. Barber's, to my great astonishment and heart-felt grief I found that my young friend had, on Saturday, bid an everlasting farewell to all sublunary things. It was about a fortnight before that he had found me out, by Mr. Stevenson's accidentally calling at my shop to buy something. We had only one interview, and that was highly entertaining to me in several respects. sary. He mentioned some instruction I had given him when very young, to which he said he owed, in a great measure, the philanthropy he possessed. He also took notice of my exhorting you all, when I wrote, about eight years ago, to the man who, of all mankind that I ever knew, stood highest in my esteem, "not to let go your integrity." You may easily conceive that such conversation was both pleasing and encouraging to me: I anticipated a deal of rational happiness from future conversations. Vain are our expectations and hopes. They are so almost always perhaps (nay, certainly), for our good. Were it not for disappointed hopes, we could hardly spend a thought on another state of existence, or be in any degree reconciled to the quitting of this. I know of no one source of consolation to those who have lost young relatives equal to that of their being of a good disposition, and of a promising character. Be assured, my dear friend, that I cordially sympathize with you all, and particularly with Mrs. W. Burness, who is undoubtedly one of the most tender and affectionate mothers that ever lived. Remember me to her in the most friendly manner, when you see her, or write. Please present my best compliments to Mrs. R. Burns, and to your brother and sisters. There is no occasion for me to exhort you to filial moment id to use your united endeavours in rendering the to return yor life as comfortable as possible to a mother who ing and the lu so great a part of it in promoting your temobligingly commmal welfare. of the man than fi. Dr. Moore I delivered at his house, and "I heartily wish you your oninion of Zeluco, the first time and success in the cause ish on the me for a long letter. Be soon as you return to Easyourgh, to I hope she is too much seeing you. Mr. Stewart told me he haure, or to sorrow as to Mr. Brydone, otherwise I would have w "The enclosed letter, which I lately found among my papers, I copy for your perusal, partly because it is Burns's, partly because it makes honourable mention of my rational christian friend, his father; and likewise because it is rather flattering to myself. I glory in no one thing so much as an intimacy with good men-the friendship of others reflect us honour, when I recollect the pleasure (and I hope benefit: 1 received from the conversation of WILLIAM BURNESS, 1 especially when on the Lord's Day we walked together for about two miles to the house of prayer, there publicly to adore and praise the Giver of all good. I entertain an ardent hope that together we shall renew the glorious theme in distant worlds, with powers more adequate to the mighty subject, THE EXUBERANT BENEFICENCE OF THE GREAT CREATOR. But to the letter : I promised myself a deal of happiness in the conversation of my dear young friend; but my promises of this nature generally prove fallacious. Two visits were the utmost that I received. At one of them, however, he repeated a lesson which I had given him about twenty years before, when he was a mere child, concerning the pity and tenderness due to animals. To that lesson (which it seems was brought to the level of his capacity) he declared himself indebted for almost all the philanthropy he possessed. Let not parents and teachers imagine that it is needless to talk seriously to children. They are sooner fit to be reasoned with than is generally thought. Strong and indelible im pressions are to be made before the mind be agitated and ruffled by the numerous train of distracting cares and unruly passions, whereby it is frequently rendered almost unsusceptible of the principles and precepts of rational religion and sound morality. But I find myself digressing again. Poor William ! then in the bloom and vigour of youth, caught a putrid fever, and, in a few days, as real chief mourner, I followed his remains to the land of forgetfulness. JOHN MURDOCH."] + [This brief letter enclosed the admirable poem on the death of Captain Matthew Henderson, and no one could 10 AFTER a long day's toil, plague, and care, I sit down to write to you. Ask me not why I have delayed it so long! It was owing to hurry, indolence, and fifty other things; in short to any thing but forgetfulness of of la plus aimable de son sexe. By the bye, you are indebted your best courtesy to me for this last compliment; as I pay it from my sincere conviction of its truth-a quality rather rare in compliments of these grinning, bowing, scraping times. Well, I hope writing to you will ease a little my troubled soul. Sorely has it been bruised to-day! A ci-devant friend of mine, and an intimate acquaintance of yours, has given my feelings a wound that I perceive will gangrene dangerously ere it cure. He has wounded my pride!* No. CLXXXVIII. TO MR. CUNNINGHAM. R. B. brazen foundation of integrity, I may rear up the superstructure of Independence, and, from its daring turrets, bid defiance to the storms of fate. And is not this a "consummation devoutly to be wished?" "Thy spirit, Independence, let me share: Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky!" Are not these noble verses? They are the introduction of Smollet's Ode to Independence: if you have not seen the poem, I will send it to you. How wretched is the man that hangs on by the favours of the great! To shrink from every dignity of man, at the approach of a lordly piece of self-consequence, who amid all his tinsel glitter, and stately hauteur, is but a creature formed as thou art and perhaps not so well formed as thou art came into the world a puling infant as thou didst, and must go out of it as all men must, a naked corse. R. B. [1790.] I AM much indebted to my worthy friend Dr. Blacklock for introducing me to a gentleman of Dr. Anderson's celebrity; but when you do me the honour to ask my assistance in your proposed publication, alas, Sir! you might sign of an advocate's wig, or humility under as well think to cheapen a little honesty at the the Geneva band. I am a miserable hurried devil, worn to the marrow in the friction of holding the noses of the poor publicans to the grindstone of the Excise! and like Milton's Satan, for private reasons, am forced "To do what yet, tho' damn'd, I would abhor." - and except a couplet or two of honest execration better feel than the gentleman to whom it was addressed the difference between the dissonance of politics, and the harmony of the muse. Who Henderson was has been a source of some solicitude; Mrs. Burns had only heard of his name, and Mrs. M'Murdo remembered him as an agreeable and witty man, but knew nothing of his lineage. Sir Thomas Wallace was applied to, and his communication afforded a little more light. He was intimate, he said, with Henderson, and much attached to him, as all who knew him were. During the stay of Burns in Edinburgh the Captain lived in the High Street, dined regularly at Fortune's Tavern, and was a member of the Capillaire Club, which was composed of all who inclined to the witty and the joyous. "With his family," says Sir Thomas, "I was not acquainted: but he was a gentleman of true principles and probity, and for abilities, goodness of heart, gentleness of nature, sprightly wit, and sparkling humour would have been an honour to any family in the land."] * [Who this ci-devant friend was, and what was the nature of the quarrel between him and the poet, remain in obscurity. "The preceding letter to Mrs. Dunlop explains the feelings under which this was written. The strain of indignant invective goes on some time longer in the style which our bard was too apt to indulge, and of which the reader has already seen so much."-CURRIE.] * [Dr. Robert Anderson was one of the kindest and most benevolent authors of his time: his door was never shut against the deserving, and he held out his hand to almost all young literary aspirants. He was one of the first to discover the genius of Campbell, and the poet acknowledged his discernment in a dedication. He has been for some time numbered with the dead.-CUNNINGHAM. This fragment, first published by Cromek, is placed by him and subsequent editors under 1794, and by Mr. Cunningham is supposed to be addressed to Dr. Robert Anderson, the editor of the British Poets. We have little doubt that the gentleman addressed was Dr. James Anderson, a well-known agricultural and miscellaneous writer, and the editor of a weekly miscellany entitled "The Bee." This publication was commenced in Edinburgh, December, 1790, and concluded in January 1794, when it formed eighteen 698 No. CXC. THE WORKS OF BURNS. ALLOW me to introduce to your acquaintance the bearer, Mr. Wm. Duncan, a friend of mine, whom I have long known and long loved. His father, whose only son he is, has a decent little property in Ayr-shire, and has bred the young man to the law, in which department he comes up an adventurer to your good town. I shall give you my friend's character in two words: as to his head, he has talents enough, and more than enough, for common life; as to his heart, when nature had kneaded the kindly clay that composes it, she said, "I can no more." You, my good Sir, were born under kinder stars; but your fraternal sympathy, I well know, can enter into the feelings of the young man, who goes into life with the laudable ambition to do something, and to be something among his fellow-creatures; 3; but whom the consciousness of friendless obscurity presses to the earth, and wounds to the soul! Even the fairest of his virtues are against him. That independent spirit, and that ingenuous modesty, qualities inseparable from a noble mind, are, with the million, circumstances not a little disqualifying. What pleasure is in the power of the fortunate and the happy, by their notice and patronage, to brighten the countenance and glad the heart of such depressed youth! I am not so angry with mankind for their deaf economy of the purse:The goods of this world cannot be divided without being lessened-but why be a niggard of that which bestows bliss on a fellow-creature, yet takes nothing from our own means of enjoyment? We wrap ourselves up in the cloak of our own better fortune, and turn away our volumes. The above letter by Burns, from the allusion it makes to his extreme occupation by business, as well as from the bitterness of its tone, seems to have been written in the latter part of 1790, immediately after the poet had commenced exciseman; it was an answer, probably, to an application for aid in the conduct of "The Bee," then about to be started. For these reasons, the present editor has shifted its place in the poet's correspondence. - CHAMBERS. That this is evident will appear by the following Poetical Epistle of Dr. Blacklock to the Poet: Edinburgh, September 1st, 1790. "How does my dear friend, much I languish to hear, I am the worst hand in the world at asking a favour. That indirect address, that insinuating implication, which, without any positive request, plainly expresses your wish, is a talent not to be acquired at a plough-tail. Tell me then, for you can, in what periphrasis of language, in what circumvolution of phrase, I shall envelope, yet not conceal, this plain story. - "My dear Mr. Tait, my friend Mr. Duncan, whom I have the pleasure of introducing to you, is a young lad of your own profession, and a gentleman of much modesty, and great worth. Perhaps it may be in your power to assist him in the, to him, important consideration of getting a place; but, at all events, your notice and acquaintance will be a very great acquisition to him; and I dare pledge myself that he will never disgrace your favour." You may possibly be surprised, Sir, at such a letter from me; 'tis, I own, in the usual way of calculating these matters, more than our acquaintance entitles me to; but my answer is short: Of all the men at your time of life, whom I knew in Edinburgh, you are the most accessible on the side on which I have assailed you. You are very much altered indeed from what you were when I knew you, if generosity! point the path you will not tread, or humanity call to you in vain. As to myself, a being to whose interest I believe you are still a well-wisher, I am here, breathing at all times, thinking sometimes, and rhyming now and then. Every situation has its share of the cares and pains of life, and my situation, I am persuaded, has a full ordinary allowance of its pleasures and enjoyments. My best compliments to your father and Miss Tait. If you have an opportunity, please remember me in the solemn-league-and-covenant of friendship to Mrs. Lewis Hay. I am a wretch for not writing her; but I am so hack Of this from himself I inclose you a plan, Now with kind gratulations 'tis time to conclude, THOS. BLACKLOCK"] * [Formerly Miss Margaret Chalmers.] : 1 |