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Mr. Aiken. I saw his son to-day, and he is very well.

Dugald Stewart, and some of my learned friends, put me in the periodical paper called the Lounger (14,) a copy of which I here enclose you. I was, Sir, when I was first honoured with your notice, too obscure; now I tremble lest I should be ruined by being dragged too suddenly into the glare of polite and learned observation.

I shall certainly, my ever-honoured patron, write you an account of my every step; and better health and more spirits may enable me to make it something better than this stupid matter-of-fact epistle. I have the honour to be, good Sir, your ever grateful humble servant, R. B.

If any of my friends write me, my direction is, care of Mr Creech, bookseller,

NO. XXX.

TO MR. WILLIAM CHALMERS,
WRITER, AYR.

!

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 heavenly Miss Burnet, daughter to Lord Monboddo, at whose house I have had the honour to be more than once There has not been anything nearly like her in all the combinations of beauty, grace, and goodness, the great Creator has formed, since Milton's Eve on the first day of her existence.

My direction is-care of Andrew Bruce, merchant, Bridge Street. R. B.

NO. XXXI.

TO DR. MACKENZIE, MAUCHLINE;
ENCLOSING HIM VERSES ON DINING
WITH LORD DAER.

Wednesday Morning, 1787.

DEAR SIR-I never spent an afternoon among great folks with half that pleasure, as when, in company with you, I had the honour of paying my devoirs to that plain, honest, worthy man, the professor [Dugald Stewart]. I would be delighted to see him perform acts of kindness and friendship, though I were not the object; he does it with such a grace. I think his character, divided into ten parts, stands thus-four parts Socrates-four parts Nathaniel—and two parts Shakspeare's Brutus.

The foregoing verses were really extempore, but a little corrected since. They may entertain you a little, with the help of that partiality with which you are so good as to favour the performances of, dear Sir, your very humble servant, R. B.

Edinburgh, Dec. 27th, 1786, MY DEAR FRIEND.-I confess I have sinned the sin for which there is hardly any forgiveness-ingratitude to friendship-in not writing you sooner; but of all men living, I had intended to have sent you an entertaining letter; 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 Revelation of St. John the Divine, who was banished to the Isle of Patmos by the cruel and bloody Domitian, son to Vespasian and brother to Titus, both emperors of Rome, and who was himself an emperor, and raised the second or third persecution, I forget which, against the Christians, and after throwing the said Apostle John, brother to the Apostle James, commonly called James the Greater, to distinguish him from another WHILE here I sit, sad and solitary, by James, who was on some account or other the side of a fire in a little country inn, and known by the name of James the Less-drying my wet clothes, in pops a poor after throwing him into a caldron of boiling oil, from which he was miraculously preserved, he banished the poor son of Zebedee to a desert island in the Archipelago, where he was gifted with the second sight, and saw as many wild beasts as I have seen since I came to Edinburgh; which, a-circumstance not very uncommon in story-telling-brings me back to where I set out.

To make you some amends for what.

NO. XXXII.
TO JOHN BALLANTINE, Esq.
January, 1787.

fellow of a sodger, and tells me is going to
Ayr. By heavens! say I to myself, with a
tide of good spirits which the magic of that
sound, auld toon o' Ayr, conjured up, I will
send my last song to Mr. Ballantine. Here
it is---

Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,

And I sae fu' of care!-&c. R. B.

NO. XXXIII.

TO THE EARL OF EGLINTON.

Edinburgh, January, 1787.

MY LORD.-AS I have but slender pretensions to philosophy, I cannot rise to the exalted ideas of a citizen of the world, but have all those national prejudices which, I believe, glow peculiarly strong in the breast of a Scotchman. There is scarcely anything to which I am so feelingly alive as the honour and welfare of my country; and as a poet, I have no higher enjoyment than singing her sons and daughters. Fate had cast my station in the veriest shades of life; but never did a heart pant more ardently than mine to be distinguished, though till, very lately, I looked in vain on every side for a ray of light. It is easy, then, to guess how much I was gratified with the countenance and approbation of one of my country's most illustrious sons, when Mr. Wauchope called on me yesterday on the part of your lordship. Your munificence, my lord, certainly deserves my very grateful acknowledgments; but your patronage 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. R. B.

NO. XXXIV.

TO JOHN BALLANTINE, Esq.

Edinburgh, Jan. 14th, 1787.

MY HONOURED FRIEND.-It gives me a secret comfort to observe in myself that I am not yet so far gone as Willie Gaw's Skate, past redemption;" (15) for I have still this favourable symptom of grace, that when my conscience, as in the case of this letter, tells me I am leaving something undone that I ought to do, it teazes me eternally till I do it.

I am still "dark as was chaos" in respect to futurity. My generous friend, Mr. Patrick Miller, has been talking with me about a lease of some farm or other in an estate called Dalswinton, which he has lately bought near Dumfries. Some liferented embittering recollections whisper me

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that I will be happier anywhere than in my old neighbourhood, but Mr. Miller is no judge of land; and though I dare say he means to favour me, yet he may give me, in ruin me. I am to take a tour by Dumfries as I his opinion, an advantageous bargain that may Miller on his lands some time in May. return, and have promised to meet Mr.

I went to a mason-lodge yesternight, Chartres, and all the Grand Lodge of Scotwhere the most Worshipful Grand Master land, visited. The meeting was numerous and elegant; all the different lodges about town were present, in all their pomp. The Grand Master, who presided with great solemnity and honour to himself as a gentleman and mason, among other general toasts, gave "Caledonia, and Caledonia's Bard, Brother Burns," which rang through the whole assembly with multiplied honours and repeated acclamations. As I had no idea thunderstruck, and, trembling in every nerve, such a thing would happen, I was downright made the best return in my power. Just as said so loud that I could hear, with a most I had finished, some of the grand officers comforting accent, "Very well, indeed!" which set me something to rights again.

I have to-day corrected my 152nd page. I am ever, dear Sir, your much indebted My best good wishes good wishes to Mr. Aiken. humble servant, R. B.

NO. XXXV.

TO MRS. DUNLOP. Edinburgh, January 15th, 1787. MADAM.-Yours of the 9th current, which I am this moment honoured with, is a deep reproach to me' for ungrateful neglect. I will 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 declarè every artery runs cold at the thought. I shall try, however, to write to him to-morrow or next day. His kind interposition in my behalf I have already experienced, as a gen.

tleman waited on me the other day, on the part of Lord Eglinton, with ten guineas, by way of subscription for two copies of my next edition.

proper.

The

The word you object to in the mention I have made of my glorious countryman and your immortal ancestor, is indeed borrowed from Thomson; but it does not strike me as an improper epithet. I distrusted my own judgment on your finding fault with it, and applied for the opinion of some of the literati here who honour me with their critical strictures, and they all allow it to be song you ask I cannot recollect, and I have not a copy of it. I have not composed any thing on the great Wallace, except what you have seen in print, and the enclosed, which I will print in this edition. You will see I have mentioned some others of the name. When I composed my Vision long ago, I had attempted a description of Kyle, of which the additional stanzas are a part as it originally stood. My heart glows with a wish to be able to do justice to the merits of the "saviour of his country," which, sooner or later, I shall at least attempt.

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 deserve some notice; but in a most enlightened, informed age and nation, when poetry is and has been the study of men of the first natural genius, aided with all the powers of polite learning, polite books, and polite company-to be dragged forth to the full glare of learned and polite observation, with all my imperfections of awkward rusticity and crude unpolished ideas in my head-I assure you, Madam, I do not dissemble when I tell you I tremble for the consequences. The novelty of a poet in my obscure situation, without any of those 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 selfabasement 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 propriety. 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, lool in; 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 a poet, and whether you can or cannot aid me in I rejoice in-it exalts me in my own ideamy 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?

NO. XXXVI.

TO DR. MOORE. (16)

R. B.

Edinburgh, Jan. 1787.

SIR. Mrs. Dunlop has been so kind as to send me extracts of letters she has had from you, where you do the rustic bard the honour of noticing him and his works. Those who have felt the anxieties and solicitudes of authorship, can only know what pleasure it gives to be noticed in such a manner, by judges of the first character. Your criticisms, Sir, I receive with reverence; only I am sorry they mostly came too late; a peccant passage or two that I would cer tainly have altered, were gone to the press.

The hope to be admired for ages, is, in by far the greater part of those even who are anthors 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 everchanging 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 poetical, 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

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TO THE REV. G. LAWRIE, NEWMILLS, NEAR KILMARNOCK. Edinburgh, Feb. 5th, 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 for a friend, and reverence for a father.

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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 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. I am, my dear Sir, yours
most gratefully,
ROBERT BURNS.

NO. XXXVIII.

TO JAMES DALRYMPLE, Esq.

ORANGEFIELD,

Edinburgh, 1787.

they were very well; but when I saw at the bottom a name that I shall ever value with grateful respect, "I gapit wide, but naething spak." I was nearly as much struck as the friends of Job, of affliction-bearing memory, when they sat down with him seven days and seven nights, and spake not a word.

I thank you, Sir, with all my soul, for your friendly hints, though I do not need them DEAR SIR.-I suppose the devil is so so much as my friends are apt to imagine. elated with his success with you, that he is You are dazzled with newspaper accounts determined, by a coup de main, to complete and distant reports; but, in reality, I have his purposes on you all at once, in making no great temptation to be intoxicated with you a poet. I broke open the letter you the cup of prosperity. Novelty may attract sent me---hummed over the rhymes--and as the attention of mankind a while; to it II saw they were extempore, said to myself, owe my present éclat; 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 peen 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.

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.

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I am naturally of a superstitious cast, and as soon as my wonder-scared imagination regained its consciousness, and resumed its functions, I cast about what this mania of yours might portend. My foreboding ideas had the wide stretch of possibility; and several events, great in their magnitude, and important in their consequences, occurred to my fancy. The downfall of the conclave, or the crushing of the Cork rumps-a ducal coronet to Lord George Gordon, and the Protestant interest-or St. Peter's keys to I am

**

You want to know how I come on.

By far the most agreeable hours I spend in Edinburgh, must be placed to the account just in statu quo, or, not to insult a gentleof Miss Lawrie and her piano-forte. I can- man with my Latin, in "auld use and not help repeating to you and Mrs. Lawrie | wont." The noble Earl of Glencairn took a compliment that Mr. Mackenzie, thee by the manu to-day, and interested him

self in my concerns, with a goodness like
that benevolent being whose image he so
richly bears. He is a stronger proof of the
iminortality of the soul than any that phi-
losophy ever produced. A mind like his
can never die.
Let the worshipful squire
H. L., or the reverend Mast. J. M. go into
their primitive nothing. At best, they are
but ill-digested lumps of chaos, only one of
them strongly tinged with bituminous
particles and sulphureous effluvia. But my

noble patron, eternal as the heroic swell of
magnanimity, and the generous throb of
benevolence, shall look on with princely eye
at "the war of elements, the wreck of
matter, and the crash of worlds."

R. B.

NO. XL.

TO JOHN BALLANTINE, Esq.
Edinburgh, Feb. 24, 1787.

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 into 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.

NO. XXXIX.

TO DR. MOORE.

NO. XLI.

Edinburgh, February 15th, 1787. TO MR. WILLIAM DUNBAR. (18.) SIR.-Pardon my seeming neglect in Lawn Market, Monday Morning, 1787. delaying so long to acknowledge the honour DEAR SIR.-In justice to Spenser, I must you have done me, in your kind notice of me, acknowledge that there is scarcely a poet in January 23rd. Not many months ago I the language could have been a more agreeknew no other employment than following able present to me; and in justice to you, the plough, nor could boast any thing higher allow me to say, Sir, that I have not met than a distant acquaintance with a country with a man in Edinburgh to whom I would clergyman. Mere greatness never embarasses me; I have nothing to ask from the The tattered rhymes I herewith present you, so willingly have been indebted for the gift. great, and I do not fear their judgment; and the handsome volumes of Spenser but genius, polished by learning, and at its for which I am so much indebted to your proper point of elevation in the eye of the goodness, may perhaps be not in proportion world, this of late I frequently meet with, to one another; but be that as it may, my and tremble at its approach. I scorn the gift, though far less valuable, is as sincere a affectation of seeming modesty to cover self-mark of esteem as yours. conceit. 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. (17)

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 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 harumscarum 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, Uncurst with caution's fears; That pleasure, basking in the blaze, Rejoice for endless years.

I have the honour to be, with the warmest sincerity, dear Sir, &c. R. B.

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