No. LVIII. TO THE EARL OF GLENCAIRN. MY LORD, WHEN you cast your eye on the name at the bottom of this letter, and on the title-page of the book I do myself the honor to send your lordship, a more pleasurable feeling than my vanity tells me, that it must be a name not entirely unknown to you. The generous patronage of your late illustrious brother found me in the lowest obscurity: he introduced my rustic muse to the partiality of my country; and to him I owe all. My sense of his goodness, and the anguish of my soul at losing my truly noble protector and friend, I have endeavored to express in a poem to his memory, which I have now published. This edition is just from the press; and in my gratitude to the dead, and my respect for the living (fame belies you my lord, if you possess not the same dignity of man, which was your noble brother's characteristic feature,) I had destined a copy for the Earl of Glencairn. I learnt just now that you are in town: allow me to present it you. I know, my lord, such is the vile, venal contagion which pervades the world of letters, that professions of respect from an author, particularly from a poet, to a lord, are more than suspicious. I claim my by-past conduct, and my feelings at this moment, as exceptions to the too just conclusion. Exalted as are the honors of your lordship's name, and unnoted as is the obscurity of mine; with the uprightness of an honest man, I come before your lordship, with an offering, however humble, 'tis all I have to give, of my grateful respect; and to beg of you, my lord,-'tis all I have to ask of you, that you will do me the honor to accept I have the honor to be, &c.* of it. *The original letter is in the possession of the Honorable Mrs. Holland, of Poynings. From a memorandum on the back. of the letter it appears to have been written in May, 1794. 2409387 SIR, No. LIX. To Dr. ANDERSON. 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 honor to ask my assistance in your purposed publication, alas, Sir! you might as well think to cheapen a little honesty at the sign of an Advocate's wig, or humility under 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 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 * No. LX. To Mrs. DUNLOP. Castle Douglas, 25th June, 1794. HERE in a solitary inn, in a solitary village, am I set by myself, to amuse my brooding fancy as I may. Solitary confinement, you know, is Howard's favorite idea of reclaiming sinners; so let me consider by what fatality it happens that I have so long been exceeding sinful as to neglect the correspondence of the most valued friend I have on earth. To tell you that I have been in poor health, will not be excuse enough, though it is true. I am afraid I am about to suffer for the fol lies of my youth. My medical friends threaten me with a flying gout; but I trust they are mistaken. I am just going to trouble your critical patience with the first sketch of a stanza I have been framing as I paced along the road. The subject is LIBERTY: You know, my honored friend, how dear the theme is to me. I design it an irregular ode for General Washington's birth-day. After having mentioned the degeneracy of other kingdoms I come to Scotland thus: Thee, Caledonia, thy wild heaths among, Where is that soul of freedom fled? Immingled with the mighty dead! Beneath that hallowed turf where WALLACE lies! Hear it not, WALLACE, in thy bed of death! Ye babbling winds, in silence weep; One quenched in darkness like the sinking star, You will probably have another scrawl from me in a stage or two. K2 No. LXI. To Mr. JAMES JOHNSON. MY DEAR FRIEND, YOU should have heard from me long ago; but over and above some vexatious share in the pecuniary losses of these accursed times, I have all this winter been plagued with low spirits and blue devils, so that I have almost hung my harp on the willow trees. I am just now busy correcting a new edition of my poems, and this, with my ordinary business, finds me in full employment.* I send you by my friend Mr. Wallace forty-one songs for your fifth volume; if we cannot finish it any other way, what would you think of Scots words to some beautiful Irish airs? In the mean time, at your leisure, give a copy of the Museum to my worthy friend Mr. Peter Hill, Bookseller, to bind for me, interleaved with blank leaves, exactly as he did the Laird of Glenriddel's,† that I may insert every anecdote I can learn, together with my own criticisms and remarks on the songs.-A copy of this kind I shall leave with you, the editor, to publish at some after period, by way of making the Museum a book famous to the end of time, and you renowned for ever. I have got an Highland Dirk for which I have great veneration; as it once was the dirk of Lord Balmerino. It fell into bad hands, who stripped it of the silver * Burns's anxiety with regard to the correctness of his writings was very great. Being questioned as to his mode of composition, he replied, "All my poetry is the effect of easy composition, but of laborious correction." This is the manuscript book containing the remarks on Scottish songs and ballads, presented to the public, with considerable additions, in this volume. mounting, as well as the knife and fork. I have some thoughts of sending it to your care, to get it mounted anew. Thank you for the copies of my Volunteer Ballad. -Our friend Clarke has done indeed well! 'tis chaste and beautiful. I have not met with any thing that has pleased me so much. You know, I am no Connoisseur; but that I am an Amateur-will be allowed me. No. LXII. To Miss FONTENELLE. Accompanying a Prologue to be spoken for MADAM, IN such a bad world as ours, those who add to the scanty sum of our pleasures, are positively our benefactors. To you Madam, on our humble Dumfries boards, I have been more indebted for entertainment than ever I was in prouder theatres. Your charms as a woman would insure applause to the most indifferent actress, and your theatrical talents would insure admiration to the plainest figure. This, Madam, is not the unmeaning, or insidious compliment of the frivolous or interested; I pay it from the same honest impulse that the sublime of nature excites my admiration, or her beauties give me delight. Will the foregoing lines be of any service to you on your approaching benefit night? If they will, I shall be prouder of my muse than ever. They are nearly extempore: I know they have no great merit; but though they should add but little to the entertainment of the evening, they give me the happiness of an opportunity to declare how much I have the honor to be, &c. |