should you succeed, I will undertake to get new | place the capital letters properly; as to the music worthy of the subject. What a fine field punctuation, the printers do that themselves. for your imagination, and who is there alive can I have a copy of Tam o' Shanter ready to draw so many beauties from Nature and pastoral send you by the first opportunity: it is too imagery as yourself? It is, by the way, sur- heavy to send by post. prising that there does not exist, so far as I I heard of Mr. Corbet lately. He, in conknow, a proper song for each season. We have sequence of your recommendation, is most zealsongs on hunting, fishing, skaiting, and one au-ous to serve me. Please favour me soon with tumnal song, Harvest Home. As your muse an account of your good folks; if Mrs. H. is neither spavied nor rusty, you may mount is recovering, and the young gentleman doing the hill of Parnassus, and return with a sonnet well. in your pocket for every season. For my suggestions, if I be rude, correct me; if impertinent, chastise me; if presuming, despise ine. But if you blend all my weaknesses, and pound out one grain of insincerity, then am I not thy Faithful friend, &c. No. CLIV. TO MRS. DUNLOP. November, 1790. "As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country." No. CLV. TO CRAUFORD TAIT, ESQ. EDINBURGH. DEAR SIR, His Ellisland, Oct. 15, 1790. ALLOW me to introduce to your acquaintance the bearer, Mr. Wm. Duncan, a friend of mine, whom I have long known and long loved. father, whose only son he is, has a decent little property in Ayrshire, 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 Fate has long owed me a letter of good news than enough for common life; as to his heart, from you, in return for the many tidings of sor-when nature had kneaded the kindly clay that row which I have received. In this instance composes it, she said, "I can no more. I most cordially obey the apostle-" Rejoice with them that do rejoice"-for me to sing for joy is no new thing; but to preach for joy, as I have done in the cominencement of this epistle, is a pitch of extravagant rapture to which I ne ver rose before. 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; but whom the consciousness of friendless obscurity presses to the earth, and wounds to the soul! I read your letter-I literally jumped for joy -How could such a mercurial creature as a poet, lumpishly keep his seat on the receipt of the Even the fairest of his virtues are against best news from his best friend. I seized my him. That independent spirit, and that ingegilt-headed Wangee rod, an instrument indisnuous modesty, qualities inseparable from a nopensably necessary, in my left hand, in the mo- ble mind, are, with the million, circumstances ment of inspiration and rapture; and stride, not a little disqualifying. What pleasure is in stride-quick and quicker-out skipt I among the power of the fortunate and the happy, by the broomy banks of Nith, to muse over my their notice and patronage, to brighten the joy by retail. To keep within the bounds of prose was impossible. Mrs. Little's is a more elegant, but not a more sincere compliment to the sweet little fellow than I, extempore almost, poured out to him in the following verses. (See the poem-On the Birth of a Posthumous countenance and glad the heart of such depress ed 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 eyes, lest the wants and woes of our brotherI am much flattered by your approbation of mortals should disturb the selfish apathy of our my Tam o' Shanter, which you express in your souls! Child.) former letter, though, by the bye, you load me I am the worst hand in the world at asking a in that said letter with accusations heavy and favour. That indirect address, that insinuating many; to all which I plead not guilty! Your implication, which, without any positive rebook is, I hear, on the road to reach me. As quest, plainly expresses your wish, is a talent to printing of poetry, when you prepare it for not to be acquired at a plough-tail. Tell me the press, you have only to spell it right, and then, for you can, in what periphrasis of lan No. CLI. TO MR. CUNNINGHAM. Ellisland, 8th August, 1790. FORGIVE me my once dear, and ever dear friend, my seeming negligence. You cannot sit down, and fancy the busy life I lead. I laid down my goose feather to beat my brains for an apt simile, and had some thoughts of a country grannam at a family christening: a bride on the market-day before her marriage; a tavern-keeper at an election dinner; &c. &c. -but the resemblance that hits my fancy best is, that blackguard miscreant, Satan, who roams about like a roaring lion, seeking, searching whom he may devour. However, tossed about as I am, if I choose (and who would not choose) to bind down with the crampets of attention, the 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; Are not these noble verses? They are the introduction of Smollett'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*. With love of the Muses so strongly still smitten, Of this from himself I enclose you a plan, With some rays of your genius her work may illume, Whilst the flower whence her honey spontaneously flows, As fragrantly smells, and as vig'rously grows. B THO. BLACKLOCK. No. CLIII. EXTRACT OF A LETTER FROM MR. CUNNINGHAM. Edinburgh, 14th October, 1790. I LATELY received a letter from our friend ,—what a charming fellow lost to society-born to great expectations-with superior abilities, a pure heart and untainted morals, his fate in life has been hard indeed-still I am persuaded he is happy; not like the gallant, the gay Lothario, but in the simplicity of rural enjoyment, unmixed with regret at the remembrance of "the days of other years." I saw Mr. Dunbar put, under the cover of your newspaper, Mr. Wood's Poem on Thomson. This poem has suggested an idea to me which you alone are capable to execute :—a song adapted to each season of the year. The task is difficult, but the theme is charming: should you succeed, I will undertake to get new | place the capital letters properly; as to the music worthy of the subject. What a fine field punctuation, the printers do that themselves. for your imagination, and who is there alive can I have a copy of Tam o' Shanter ready to draw so many beauties from Nature and pastoral send you by the first opportunity: it is too imagery as yourself? It is, by the way, sur- heavy to send by post. prising that there does not exist, so far as I I heard of Mr. Corbet lately. He, in conknow, a proper song for each season. We have sequence of your recommendation, is most zealsongs on hunting, fishing, skaiting, and one au-ous to serve me. Please favour me soon with tumnal song, Harvest Home. As your muse an account of your good folks; if Mrs. H. is neither spavied nor rusty, you may mount is recovering, and the young gentleman doing the hill of Parnassus, and return with a sonnet well. in your pocket for every season. For my suggestions, if I be rude, correct me; if impertinent, chastise me; if presuming, despise ine. But if you blend all my weaknesses, and pound out one grain of insincerity, then am I not thy Faithful friend, &c. No. CLIV. TO MRS. DUNLOP. November, 1790. "As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country." Fate has long owed me a letter of good news from you, in return for the many tidings of sor row which I have received. In this instance I most cordially obey the apostle-" Rejoice with them that do rejoice"-for me to sing for joy is no new thing; but to preach for joy, as I have done in the cominencement of this epistle, is a pitch of extravagant rapture to which I ne ver rose before. No. CLV. TO CRAUFORD TAIT, ESQ. EDINBURGH. DEAR SIR, Ellisland, Oct. 15, 1790. 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 Ayrshire, and has bred the young man to the law, in which department he comes give you my friend's character in two words: I shall up an adventurer to your good town. 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, who goes into life with the laudable ambition to can enter into the feelings of the young man, do something, and to be something among his fellow creatures; but whom the consciousness of friendless obscurity presses to the earth, and wounds to the soul! I read your letter-I literally jumped for joy -How could such a mercurial creature as a poet, lumpishly keep his seat on the receipt of the best news from his best friend. I seized my him. Even the fairest of his virtues are against That independent spirit, and that ingegilt-headed Wangee rod, an instrument indisnuous modesty, qualities inseparable from a nopensably necessary, in my left hand, in the mo- ble mind, are, with the million, circumstances ment of inspiration and rapture; and stride, not a little disqualifying. What pleasure is in stride-quick and quicker-out skipt I among the power of the fortunate and the happy, by the broomy banks of Nith, to muse over my their notice and patronage, to brighten the joy by retail. To keep within the bounds of prose was impossible. Mrs. Little's is a more elegant, but not a more sincere compliment to the sweet little fellow than I, extempore almost, poured out to him in the following verses. (See the poem-On the Birth of a Posthumous 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 eyes, lest the wants and woes of our brotherI am much flattered by your approbation of mortals should disturb the selfish apathy of our my Tam o' Shanter, which you express in your souls! Child.) former letter, though, by the bye, you load me I am the worst hand in the world at asking a in that said letter with accusations heavy and favour. That indirect address, that insinuating many; to all which I plead not guilty! Your implication, which, without any positive rebook is, I hear, on the road to reach me. As quest, plainly expresses your wish, is a talent to printing of poetry, when you prepare it for not to be acquired at a plough-tail. Tell me the press, you have only to spell it right, and then, for you can, in what periphrasis of lan guage, 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 iny situation I am persuaded has a full ordinary allowance of its pleasures and enjoyments. of a sparrow, and satire the pop-gun of a schoolboy. Creation-disgracing scelerats such as they, God only can mend, and the devil only can punish. In the comprehending way of Caligula, I wish they had all but one neck. I feel impotent as a child to the ardour of my wishes! O for a withering curse to blast the germins of their wicked machinations. O for a poisonous tornado, winged from the torrid zone of Tartarus, to sweep the spreading crop of their villainous contrivances to the lowest hell! I have, these several months, been hammering at an elegy on the amiable and accomplished Miss Burnet. I have got, and can get, no farther than the following fragment, on which, please give me your strictures. In all kinds of poetic composition, I set great store by your try of the heart, no Roman Catholic ever set more value on the infallibility of the Holy Father than I do on yours. 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-opinion; but in sentimental verses, in the poeneyed with self-accusation in that way, that my conscience lies in my bosom with scarce the sensibility of an oyster in its shell. Where is Lady M'Kenzie? wherever she is, God bless her! I likewise beg leave to trouble you with compliments to Mr. Wm. Hamilton; Mrs. Hamilton and family; and Mrs. Chalmers, when you are in that country. Should you meet with Miss Nimmo, please remember me kindly to her. DEAR SIR, No. CLVI. ΤΟ ses. I mean the introductory couplets as text ver ELEGY ON THE LATE MISS BURNET OF MONBODDO Thy form and mind, sweet maid, can I forget; known. WHETHER in the way of my trade, I can be of any service to the Rev. Doctor, is I fear very doubtful. Ajax's shield consisted, I think, of seven bull-hides and a plate of brass, which al-In vain ye flaunt in summer's pride, ye groves, together set Hector's utmost force at defiance. Alas! I am not a Hector, and the worthy Doctor's foes are as securely armed as Ajax was. Ignorance, superstition, bigotry, stupidity, malevolence, self-conceit, envy-all strongly bound in a massy frame of brazen impudence. Good God, Sir! to such a shield, humour is the peck • Dr. M'Gill of Ayr. Thou crystal streamlet with thy flowery shore; Ye rugged cliffs o'erhanging dreary glens, Princes whose camb'rous pride was all their country. But far otherwise is the lot of the man ver ch of family and fortune. His early follies and ex- Well! divines may say of it what they please, but execration is to the mind, what phlebotomy is to the body; the vital sluices of both are wonderfully relieved by their respective evacuations. No. CLIX. FROM A. F. TYTLER, Esq. 17th January, 1791. TAKE these two guineas, and place th against that account of yours! has gagged my mouth these five or six months! I can as little write good things as apologies to the man I owe money to. O the supreme curse of making three guineas do the business of five! Not all the labours of Hercules; not all the He- DEAR SIR, Edinburgh, 12th March, 1791 brews' three centuries of Egyptian bondage were MR. HILL yesterday put into my hands & such an insuperable business, such an sheet of Grose's Antiquities, containing a poem task!! Poverty! thou half-sister of death, thou of yours, entitled Tam o' Shanter, a tale. The cousin-german of hell! where shall I find force very high pleasure I have received from the of execration equal to the amplitude of thy de- perusal of this admirable piece, I feel, demands merits? Oppressed by thee, the venerable an- the warmest acknowledgments. Hill tells me cient, grown hoary in the practice of every vir- he is to send off a packet for you this day; I tue, laden with years and wretchedness, im- cannot resist therefore putting on paper what I plores a little-little aid to support his exist must have told you in person, had I met with ence, from a stony-hearted son of Mammon, you after the recent perusal of your tale, which whose sun of prosperity never knew a cloud; is, that I feel I owe you a debt, which, if unand is by him denied and insulted. Oppressed discharged, would reproach me with ingratiby thee, the man of sentiment, whose heart tude. I have seldom in my life tasted of higher glows with independence, and melts with sensibility, inly pines under the neglect, or writhes in bitterness of soul, under the contumely of arrogant, unfeeling wealth. Oppressed by thee, the son of genius, whose ill-starred ambition plants him at the tables of the fashionable and polite, must see, in suffering silence, his remark neglected, and his person despised, while shallow greatness, in his idiot attempts at wit, shall meet with countenance and applause. Nor is it only the family of worth that have reason to complain of thee; the children of folly and vice, though in common with thee, the offspring of evil, smart equally under thy rod. Owing to thee, the man of unfortunate disposition and neglected education, is condemned as a fool for his dissipation, despised and shunned as a needy wretch, when his follies, as usual, bring him to want and when his unprincipled necessities drive him to dishonest practices, he is abhorred" as a miscreant, and perishes by the justice of his enjoyment from any work of genius, than I have received from this composition; and I am much mistaken, if this poem alone, had you never written another syllable, would not have been sufficient to have transmitted your name down to posterity with high reputation. In the introductory part, where you paint the character of your hero, and exhibit him at the ale-house ingle, with his tippling cronies, you have delineated nature with a humour and naiveté, that would do honour to Matthew Prior; but when you describe the unfortunate orgies of the witches' sabbath, and the hellish scenery in which they are exhibited, you display a power of imagination, that Shakspeare himself could not have exceeded. I know not that I have ever met with a picture of more horrible fancy than the following: Coffins stood round like open presses, |