NO. CCCLXVIII. BURNS TO MR. THOMSON. April, 1796. ALAS! my dear Thomson, I fear it will be some time ere I tune my lyre again! By Babel streams I have sat and wept almost ever since I wrote you last; I have only known existence by the pressure of the heavy hand of sickness, and have counted time by the repercussions of pain! Rheumatism, cold and fever, have formed to me a terible combination. I close my eyes in misery, and open them without hope. look on the vernal day, and say with poor Fergusson, I Say wherefore has an all-indulgent heaven Light to the comfortless and wretched given? | This will be delivered to you by a Mrs. Hyslop, landlady of the Globe Tavern here, which for these many years has been my house, and where our friend Clarke and I have had many a merry squeeze. I am highly delighted with Mr. Allan's etchings. "Woo'd an' married an' a'," is admirable! The grouping is beyond all praise. The expression of the figures, conformable to the story in the ballad, is absolutely faultless perfection. I next admire "Turnimspike." What I like least is "Jenny said to Jocky,' Besides the female being in her appearance *****, if you take her stooping into the account, she is at least two inches taller than her lover. Poor Cleghorn! sincerely sympathise with him. Happy I am to think that he yet has a well-grounded hope of health and enjoyment in this world. As for me but that is a sad subject ! NO. CCCLXIX. MR. THOMSON TO BURNS. May 4th, 1796. I I NEED not tell you, my good Sir, what concern the receipt of your last gave me, and how much I sympathise in your sufferings. But do not, I beseech you, give yourself up to despondency, or speak the language of despair. The vigour of your constitution, I trust, will soon set you on your feet again; and then, it is to be hoped, you will see the wisdom and the necessity of taking due care of a life so valuable to BURNS TO MR. THOMSON. THIS will be delivered by a Mr. Lewars, a young fellow of uncommon merit. As he will be a day or two in town, you will have leisure, if you choose, to write me by him: and if you have a spare half hour to spend with him, I shall place your kindness to my account. I have no copies of the songs I have sent you, and I have taken a fancy to review them all, and possibly may mend some of them: so, when you have complete leisure, I will thank you for either the originals or copies. (219) I had rather be the author of five well-written songs than of ten otherwise. I have great hopes that the genial influence of the approaching summer will set me to rights, but as yet I cannot boast of returning health. I have now reason to believe that my complaint is a flying gout-a sad business! Do let me know how Gleghorn is, and remember me to him. This should have been delivered to you a month ago. I am still very poorly, but should like much to hear from you. NO. CCCLXXII. NO. CCCLXXIV. TO MRS. RIDDEL, WHO HAD DESIRED HIM TO GO TO THE BIRTHDAY ASSEMBLY, ON THAT DAY, TO SHOW HIS LOYALTY. Dumfries, June 4th, 1796. I AM in such miserable health as to be utterly incapable of showing my loyalty in any way. Kacked as I am with rheumatism, I meet every face with a greeting, like that of Balak-"Come, curse me, Jacob; and come, defy me, Israel! So say I-Come, curse me that east wind; and come, defy me the north! Would you have me in such circumstances copy you out a love song! I may, perhaps, see you on Saturday, but I will not be at the ball. Why should I?— man delights not me, nor woman either! Can you supply me with the song, "Let us all be unhappy together"-do if you can, and oblige le pauvre miserable, R. B. NO. CCCLXXIII. TO MR. CLARKE, Dumfries, June 26th, 1796. MY DEAR CLARKE-Still, the victim of -Still, the victim of affliction! Were you to see the emaciated figure who now holds the pen to you, you would not know your old friend. Whether I shall ever get about again, is only known to Him, the Great Unknown, whose creature I am. Alas, Clarke! I begin to fear the worst. As to my individual self, I am tranquil, and would despise myself if I were not; but Burns's poor widow, and half-a-dozen of his dear little ones-helpless orphans!— there I am weak, as a woman's tear. Enough of this! 'Tis half of my disease. I duly received your last, enclosing the note. It came extremely in time, and I am much obliged by your punctuality. Again I must request you to do me the same kindness. Be so very good as, by return of post, to enclose me another note. I trust you can do it without inconvenience, and it will seriously oblige me. If I must go, I shall leave a few friends behind me, whom I shall regret while consciousness remains. I know I shall live in their remembrance. Adieu, dear Clarke. That I shall ever see you again, is, I am afraid, highly improbable. R. B. TO MR. JAMES JOHNSON, EDINBURGH. Dumfries, July 4th, 1796. How are you, my dear friend, and how comes on your fifth volume ! You may probably think that for some time past I have neglected you and your work; but, alas! the hand of pain, and sorrow, and care, has these many months lain heavy on me. Personal and domestic affliction have almost entirely banished that alacrity and life with which I used to woo the rural muse of Scotia. You are a good, worthy, honest fellow, and have a good right to live in this world -because you deserve it. Many a merry meeting this publication has given us, and possibly it may give us more, though, alas! I fear it. This protracting, slow, consuming illness which hangs over me, will, I doubt much, my ever dear friend, arrest my sun before he has well reached his middle career, and will turn over the poet to far more important concerns than studying the brilliancy of wit, or the pathos of sentiment. However, hope is the cordial of the human heart and I endeavour to cherish it as well as I highly flattered with the approbation of the on my legs. I have been a week at sealiterary circle you mention-a literary circle bathing, and I will continue there, or in a | inferior to none in the two kingdoms. Alas! friend's house in the country, all the summy friend, I fear the voice of the bard will mer. God keep my wife and children: if I soon be heard among you no more. For am taken from their head, they will be poor these eight or ten months I have been ailing, indeed. I have contracted one or two sometimes bedfast, and sometimes not; but serious debts, partly from my illness these these last three months I have been tortured many months, partly from too much thoughtwith an excruciating rheumatism, which has lessness as to expense when I came to town, reduced me to nearly the last stage. You that will cut in too much on the little I actually would not know me if you saw me. leave them in your hands. Remember me Pale, emaciated, and so feeble, as occasionally to my mother. Yours, R. B. to need help from the chair my spirits filed! fled!-but I can no more on the subject; only the medical folks tell me that my last and only chance is bathing, and country quarters and riding. The deuce of the matter is this; when an exeiseman is off duty, his salary is reduced to £35 instead of £50. What way, in the name of thrift, shall I maintain myself, and keep a horse in country quarters, with a wife, and five children at home, on £35? I mention this, because I had intended to beg your utmost interest, and that of all the friends you can muster, to move our commissioners of Excise to grant me the full salary; I dare say you know them all personally. If they do not grant it me (221), I must lay my account with an exit truly ea poëte-if I die not of disease, I must perish with hunger. I have sent you one of the songs; the other my memory does not serve me with, and I have no copy here; but I shall be at home soon, when I will send it you. A-propos to being at home,-Mrs. Burns threatens in week or or two to add one more to my paternal charge, which, if of the right gender, I intend shall be introduced to the world by the respectable designation of Alexander Cunningham Burns. My last was James Glencairn, so you can have objection to the company of nobility. Farewell. R. B. NO. CCCLXXVI. TO MR. GILBERT BURNS. July 10th, 1796. no DEAR BROTHER-It will be no very pleasing news to you to be told that I am dangerously ill, and not likely to get better. An inveterate rheumatism has reduced me to such a state of debility, and my appetite is so totally gone, that I can scarcely stand NO. CCCLXXVII. Brow, Thursday. MY DEAREST LOVE-I delayed writing until I could tell you what effect sea-bathing was likely to produce. It would be injustice to deny that it has eased my pains, and I think has strengthened me; but my appetite is still extremely bad. No flesh nor fish can I swallow: porridge and milk are the only thing I can taste. I am very happy to hear, by Miss Jess Lewars, that you are all well. My very best and kindest compliments to her, and to all the children. I will see you on Sunday. Your affectionate husband, R. B. NO. CCCLXXVIII. TO MRS. DUNLOP. Brow, Saturday, July 12th, 1796. MADAM-I have written you so often, without receiving any answer, that I would not trouble you again, but for the circumstances in which I am. An illness which has long hung about me, in all probability will speedily send me beyond that bourne whence no traveller returns. Your friendship, with which for many years you honoured me, was a friendship dearest to my soul. Your conversation, and especially your correspondence, were at once highly entertaining and instructive. With what pleasure did I use to break up the seal! The remembrance yet adds one pulse more to my poor palpitating heart. Farewell ! ! ! R. B. (222) NO. CCCLXXIX. TO MR. JAMES BURNESS. WRITER, MONTROSE. Dumfries, July 12th, 1796. MY DEAR COUSIN-When you offered me money assistance, little did I think I should want it so soon. A rascal of a haberdasher, to whom I owe a considerable bill, taking it into his head that I am dying, has commenced a process against me, and will infallibly put my emaciated body into jail. Will you be so good as to accommodate me, and that by return of post, with ten pounds? Oh, James! did you know the pride of my heart, you would feel doubly for me! Alas! I am not used to beg. The worst of it is, my health was coming about finely, you know; and my physician assured me, that melancholy and low spirits are half my disease:-guess, then, my horrors since this business began. If I had it settled, I would be, I think, quite well in a manner. How shall I use the language to you,-oh do not disappoint me!-but strong necessity's curst command. earnestness, but the horrors of a jail have made me half distracted. I do not ask all this gratuitously; for, upon returning health, I hereby promise and engage to furnish you with five pounds' worth of the neatest songgenius you have seen. I tried my hand on "Rothermurche" this morning. The measure is so difficult that it is impossible to infuse much genius into the lines; they are on the other side. Forgive, forgive me! (224) NO CCCLXXXI. MR. THOMSON TO BURNS. July 14th, 1796. MY DEAR SIR-Ever since I received have been ruminating in what manner I your melancholy letters by Mrs. Hyslop, I could endeavour to alleviate your sufferings. Again and again I thought of a pecuniary offer, but the recollection of one of your letters on this subject, and the fear of offending your independent spirit, checked my resolution. I thank you heartily, therefore, for the frankness of your letter of the 12th, and, with great pleasure, enclose a draft for the very sum I proposed sending (225). Would I were Chancellor of the Exchequer but for one day, for your sake! Pray, my good Sir, is it not possible for you to muster a volume of poetry? If too much trouble to you, in the present state of your health, some literary friend might be found here, who would select and arrange from your manuscripts, and take upon him. the task of editor. In the meantime, it could be advertised to be published by subscription. Do not shun this mode of obtaining the value of your labour: remember, Pope published the Iliad by subscription. Think of this, my dear Burns, and do not reckon me intrusive with my advice. You are too well convinced of the respect and friendship I bear your to impute anything I say to an unworthy motive. Yours faithfully. The verses to "Rothermurche" will answer finely. I am happy to see you can still tune your lyre. NO. CCCLXXXII. TO JAMES GRACIE, Esq. Brow, Wednesday morning, MY DEAR SIR-It would be doing high injustice to this place not to acknowledge that my rheumatism has derived great benefits from it already; but, alas! my loss of appetite still continues. I shall not need your kind offer this week (226), and I return to town the beginning of next week, it not being a tide week. I am detaining a man in a burning hurry. So, God bless you! R. B. NO. CCCLXXXIII. TO JAMES ARMOUR (227), MASON, MAUCHLINE. Dumfries, July, 18th, 1796. MY DEAR SIR--Do, for Heaven's sake, send Mrs. Armour here immediately. My wife is hourly expecting to be put to bed, Good God! what a situation for her to be in, poor girl, without a friend! I returned from sea-bathing quarters to-day, and my medical friends would almost persuade me that I am better, but I think and feel that my strength is so gone, that the disorder will prove fatal to me. Your son-in-law, R. B. (228) |